#not really my forte but i was in a mood lol

[bugeyedfreaks]

Sometimes I feel like I should just bite the bullet and join Twitter because sometimes I end up lurking on there and find news about PPG related things I otherwise didn’t know about… despite the fact that I do have a network of amazing people who follow my blog who alert me of Big Events from time to time. I feel like I might end up being a little more in the loop if I just made an account.

…but it’s Twitter… 🤢

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Snow Bunny | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After the bat boys enjoy their annual snowball fight, in which Azriel wins, he gets the best prize of all, a night alone with his mate.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, p in v penetration, nudity, violent snowball rock assault (rip cassian), and tooth rotting fluff.

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, so go easy on me lol, was just in another feening-over-azriel mood and needed to write, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

It was a cold winter, though all of the winters in Night Court were cold. Compared to Illyrian winters, Azriel supposed that they weren’t too bad. Illyrian winters had everyone shivering and shaking and doing anything for the littlest bit of warmth. Night Court winters usually yielded a bit of snow, maybe a foot or two if the Mother was feeling generous, for the children, or in this case, grown Illyrian males, to play in.

The annual snowball fight began as usual, they built their snow forts, packed them densely, or at least Azriel always did, and went to work making snowballs.

He would admit that using his shadows to make snowballs for him did seem like cheating, but who is he to not use his resources?

Rhys and Cassian went head to head first, predictably, and after hurling snowballs densely packed at each other as hard as they could, their tanned skin was left tinted red and a few bruises. The killer blow was when Cassian hurled a final one at Rhys, and this snowball was packed full of ice in the center.

It knocked the High Lord straight out.

Cassian let out a whoop of victory, but a bit too early, as Azriel then launched a massive snowball with a rock in the center at him, payback, and a guarantee of victory apparently as Cassian then collapsed backward on the snow with a soft groan.

Both Nesta and Feyre came out, not too worried as they were very used to their mates’ shenanigans. Feyre helped drag Rhys into the house, while Nesta fought with Cassian, who was mumbling about how he was “perfectly fine”.

“Really…’m okay, jus’ a few more minutes..”

He mumbled, clearly out of it. Nesta grabbed his legs and began dragging him away.

“You are going inside. I am not letting you die because of a snowball fight of all things.”

Her stern tone rang out, dragging him into the house after Feyre managed to get Rhys inside. Azriel followed soon after.

*********************************************************

You went to the door to drag Azriel back inside but were instead met with the sight of him entering, and you ran smack into his chest. You shuddered slightly at how cold and wet he was. His lips were chapped, crusty, and dry. You pulled your tube of lip gloss out and applied a generous amount on his lips, before leaving a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m assuming you won?”

You asked in an amused tone, glancing over at Cassian and Rhys being dragged away by their mates. Azriel chuckled, the deep sound sending a thrill through your body, before replying with a little smirk.

“Yes, per usual.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Quit being a cocky bastard, and let’s go get you in a hot bath. You’re freezing.”

He gave a little huff of laughter at your quip, before following as his mate dragged him off to their shared bedroom. Your intentions were far from pure, and you wanted much more than a bath, but only if he was willing to provide that. He might be tired.

“Are you sure you want me to take a bath?”

He asked, a knowing glint in his eye as he pushed the door to your shared bedroom closed, locking it painfully slowly, ensuring that the noise would echo through her brain and rattle it.

He began slowly stalking towards you with a predatory, feline grace, his wings flaring behind him in what you could recognize as a symbol of both dominance and desire. Even his shadows seemed eager, slithering up your body as far as he allowed them, their cool touch both soothing your skin and causing goosebumps to rise.

“Maybe a bath isn’t so necessary.”

You said, your voice more feeble than you’d like it to be, swallowing as you sat on the edge of your large bed, with him moving to stand right in front of you and look down at you with nothing short of a lover’s gaze.

“Good. I love our annual snowball fights, but do you know what I love more..?”

He asked in his rich baritone voice, smiling slightly as he pushed you gently back onto the bed, settling over you as he let his hands roam your soft, warm body. His hands went from your thighs, back up to your hair and face, then back to your inner thigh as his leg nudged your knees to open.

As any sensible person would do, you spread your legs for him easily. You'd gotten to a point within the mating bond that submitting to him was as easy as breathing.

“..No, what?”

You asked, your voice wavering slightly as your cheeks flushed, watching him with wide eyes. The arousal in both of your scents could easily be detected. His hand stopped around the waistband of your pants, tugging them off, and the rest of your clothing was soon to go.

Eventually, his large hands began palming your breasts, rubbing your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. He leaned down near your ear, prolonging his answer as long as possible to build your curiosity and the tension before he spoke.

“My mate.”

He answered simply, his hot breath fanning against your ear, before his mouth moved down to latch onto one of your pert nipples, alternating between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. The sheer dominance and possession in his statement made your desire pool as your heavy breathing turned to light mewls and moans, whining to him.

His mouth then switched from your right nipple to your left, continuing his sinful sucking, before separating with a little ‘pop’ as he smirked up at you.

His hand had trailed down to his leathers, unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off, if only to give you a little taste of the eye candy he truly was beneath his clothes. One hand reached down to your panties, and ran a finger over them, nearly purring in delight.

“Already so wet? I must've put on quite a show tonight.”

He murmured against your chest as one of his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, before throwing them onto the floor with the rest of your clothes. His fingers slid through your wet folds, before beginning to playfully taunt your clit, rubbing just enough for some pleasure, but never enough for any real friction.

One of his fingers slid over to your slit, gathering all the slick that waited there for him, and he coated his fingers in it before slipping it in, easily going knuckle-deep.

“I’m gonna stretch you out, okay? Gonna get you ready for my cock.”

He said with a small smirk in a soft, almost whispered voice, that had deep currents of lust and desire running not far under it. Soon, one finger turned into two pumping in and out, curling into that delicious spot while you whined because of the stretch. The whines soon turned to moans and begging him for more.

“Az, need more..”

You begged, your hips already starting to buck on instinct and try to grind against his fingers.

“I’ll give you more in due time, darling.”

He replied simply. And then a third finger was slipped in, his thumb still running sinful circles and applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit. In no time you were already slipping so, so close to the edge, and he let you get there, rubbing faster and harder until you fell apart around his fingers with a cry.

His fingers continued working you, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible before slipping out when the high had ended. However, you could hear the sound of his leathers slipping off, and when you opened your hazy eyes, you saw a glimpse of his cock, throbbing, the tip pink and leaking, begging for attention. He stroked himself a few times, hissing at the feeling, before running it through your folds thrice to get it soaked and ready.

“Ready? Take a deep breath for me and relax, darling.”

He whispered softly into your ear, and you could feel his tip prodding at your entrance before slowly inching in. No matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of his dick always managed to surprise you.

The stretch immediately took over your senses, making you whine against him. It was a mixture of pleasure and irritable pain that you didn’t want to admit how much you enjoyed.

After what felt like hours of soft, whispered reassurances and praise of how good you were doing for him, and how warm and tight you were, he had finally bottomed out. You immediately jerked your hips against him, breath leaving you at how delicious it felt.

“Please move, Az. Need you to.”

You said, your breathing already shaky. You weren’t going to last long, and from the way he was already groaning and throbbing in you, he wasn't going to either.

He pressed himself against you, beginning a slow and steady rhythm as he moved against you, groaning lewdly into your ear. His place turned to sloppy, loving thrusts as he just began going with instinct.

“You gonna cum with me, sweet girl? Yeah?”

He asked in a breathless tone, panting for air. The moment you hit your climax, your walls clenching and throbbing around his cock, letting you feel every particular inch and vein as it moved inside of you, he also came, thick ropes of his seed shooting deep into you, both of your moans and groaning making a chorus with the sounds of wet squelching and skin slapping skin as he painted your insides white.

You both just laid there for a moment, content to enjoy the afterglow, and as soon as it came down, Azriel was there for his usual godly aftercare.

“Bath?”

He asked, voice raspy and somewhat gruff from all his noises. You gave a wordless nod, and he picked you up, carrying you over to the bathtub and starting a warm bath, easing both of you into it.

He knew your entire haircare routine to the smallest details, and his shadows, still a bit pouty that he hadn’t let them participate in your session, seemed eager to help as you felt their cool touch against your scalp, then moving on to wash your body with your favorite scent of body wash.

You washed his hair, scrubbing shampoo in, then washed out and followed by conditioner, before the shadows helped you clean him off. A few of them helped ‘clean’ his very sensitive cock, causing Azriel to hiss at the feeling and tell them to stop, which only made you and the shadows giggle.

When you finally got out of the bath, you didn’t bother to put on any clothes, and neither did he. You enjoyed the moments of bare skin-to-skin contact with him.

Curled up in the bed, laying beside him with your arms around him, one of his arms around her waist, and his wings curled protectively around you, you whispered something to him.

“I love you.”

You whispered, voice soft and a bit raspy from earlier. He opened one eye, peeking at your serene face, before whispering back with a smile on his lips.

“I love you, too.”

[seungfl0wer]

Seungmin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩷

Did I indulge myself with this? Yes. Could have I written a novel? Yes I stopped myself before it got way too long lol.

-🩵

•Definitely shy when yall first start dating, cute little awkward thing he’d be.

•However after getting close he’s never shutting up now.

•Teasing him about how he went from barely talking or making eye contact.

•To this man who openly flirts with you in public.

•A true menace in disguise.

•Playful teasing all the time.

•But it’s a mutual thing.

•You stutter he’s making fun of you.

•He drops something you’re doing it right back.

•It’s honestly one of those things that makes him love you even more.

•Knowing you two can joke around like this, “you’re an asshole but you’re my asshole.”

•Ya’ll adopting a dog at some point too.

•I don’t make the rules.

•You gotta buy a puppy for your puppy right?

•He loves having you lying in his chest so he can sing to you.

•All cuddled up just listing to his beautiful voice.

•He gets so blushy when you compliment his voice too

•Oh god does he. He’ll try and hide his face but you can see it creep to his ears too.

•And if he’s lying on your lap?

•Play with his hair.

•Please. Just do it. This might be his favorite thing in the world.

•Just lying with you, as you play with his fluffy hair.

•This is his happy place, the place where all his stress disappears.

•He’s honestly just so soft for you.

•He’s so attentive and reads you really well.

•He can tell if you’re having a bad day even before telling him.

•He’ll grab your favorite things to make you feel better.

•He remembers a lot of things you’ve said.

•I feel like he’s that kinda guy that just remembers all the little details about what you like or have told him.

•He’ll stare with those big puppy dog eyes full of love.

•He’s honestly very enamored by you.

•How can someone be so perfect?

•Not to mention how can someone so perfect be his?

•Of course he’ll never admit this.

•Not saying he doesn’t do his share of mushy things.

•But he’s seungmin, he has to end the sweet convos with a dumb comment like “cause I’m the perfect boyfriend duh”

•Likes calm dates.

•Like going for coffee or to book stores.

•Will make forts in the living room to watch movies.

•I feel like he’s also one of those people who sends you flowers while you’re at work.

•Likes to write cute notes on them to get you all blushy at work.

•Probably has you in his phone as something like “My Dummy” or something like that.

•In such a loving way though.

•Also probably has the dumbest nicknames for you.

•His nicknames range from something cute like “puppy” to “my little dumpster fire”

•Hand holding always.

•Will pout when you let go “so what if our hands are sweaty”

•Loves PDA when it makes you all blushy.

•He’ll also do the whole “kiss you to shut you up”

•He really enjoys your kisses.

•Also will never admit how much it melts his heart seeing you in his hoodies.

•He’ll snap cute pictures of you in them.

•Has so many ugly photos of you in a locked folder so you can’t delete him.

•So he can “use them for black mail”

•He’s just a kind soul who’s a little rough around the edges but you are too.

•He’ll always make you feel loved and cared for. You’ll also always know what he says is his true feelings.

•He never sugar coats things and is always honest with you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•This little ass is such a tease.

•Will put his hand on your thigh slowly sliding it up.

•He’ll pull you to his lap, gripping your hips as he pushes himself against you.

•Would definitely send you dirty texts in public to see you get all red.

•Whatever mood he’s in you’re getting a different person in bed.

•Some days he’s more aggressive than others.

•Pushing you up against the wall leaving hickeys all over your neck.

•His hand wrapped around your throat as he teases your sensitiveness.

•When he’s fucking you like this he’s like a dog in heat.

•Multiple rounds until you’re both spent.

•He’d love when you’d scratch his back so deep or bite his shoulder.

•Just a way to show others how good he fucks you.

•He’d definitely be doing the biting back, pulling your hair and spanking you.

•On the other hand he has those lazy days were it’s the most loving sex of your life

•It’s so sensual laying in bed while he’s whispering how much he loves you as he’s thrusting slowly into you.

•Touching your sensitiveness lazily. Just savoring every moment.

•I feel like he’d be a small bit possessive of you.

•So he’d probably say stuff like “You’re all mine” “No one else can make you feel this way”

•He’s more of a talking when it’s rough but the moans and groans he lets out.

•Especially when he’s just lost in you they’re just- beautiful?

•A horn dog honestly.

•Constantly just wants you.

•He’s so damn needy when he’s on tour too.

•Whines about how he needs you cause his hand doesn’t help.

•Aftercare is normally more quiet as he just holds you close kissing you softly.

•Rubbing your body as you both catch your breath.

•A small “you ok?” He’d say and if it’s a yes he just pulls you closer to him.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[miley1442111]

down bad- jj maybank

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: yes, i am a swifty- sorry lmao. I was thinking of doing a story for every track but we'll see how that ends up lol.

intended for fem!reader

summary: based off of down bad by taylor swift

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader, (platonic) rafe cameron x adopted sister

warnings: break-ups, no happy ending

Did you really beam me up

In a cloud of sparkling dust

Just to do experiments on

Tell me I was the chosen one

Show me that this world is bigger than us

Then send me back where I came from?

It was another party and another useless attempt at calling Jj. You sat in the corner, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids, yet you stayed. You stayed for the small chance that Jj might come. It might’ve been your birthday, but you’d never been less merry in your life.

For a moment, I knew cosmic love

What happened? You two had been the pogue couple. You two were perfect for each other, his teenage petulance, your logical mindset. You were going to college on the mainland, you’d probably bring him with you. At least, that’s what the entire island thought. 

You were his sense. You were his saviour. You stopped his excessive drinking and smoking. You were there for him every time he stood up to his father. You helped him with schoolwork when everyone else had given up on him. You stayed by his side, always. 

And he discarded you. 

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym)

Everything comes out teenage petulance

Fuck it if I can't have him (Fuck it if I can't have him)

I might just die, it would make no difference

Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood)

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up, I might stay

You sat there all night, waiting for a sign of him. He didn’t show. He forgot your birthday. He must’ve really been done with you. 

As you swept up the remnants of a party you didn’t want, a familiar voice rang through the house. 

“You alright?” Rafe, your brother. You wanted to scream, but you took a deep breath instead, a pleasant smile on your tear-stained face. 

“Fine,” you lied. “How are you?”

“I heard Jj left you,” he sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“If you’re here to gloat Rafe, I’m not in the mood,” you sighed. “Just go.”

He didn’t move. “I’m sorry-”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hand off you. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m here for you, you know that, right?” 

You didn’t want Rafe to be there for you, you wanted Jj to be there for you. You hadn’t felt rejection and devastation like this break-up. Jj was your first love, your first everything. Every time you closed your eyes you felt his hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, his smile on your skin. 

Down bad (Like I lost my twin)

Fuck it if I can't have him (Down bad)

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

“You’re my everything,” he whispered, a hand dusting your waist. “We don’t have to do anything.”

You shook your head. “I want to,” you promised. 

“You sure princess?” he smiled. You nodded. 

I loved your hostile take-overs

Encounters closer and closer

All your indecent exposures

How dare you say that it's?

I'll build you a fort on some planet

Where they can all understand it

How dare you think it's romantic

Leaving me safe and stranded?

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

So fuck you if I can't have us

(Ah)

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

You opened your eyes again, tears spilling freely. “Get out Rafe.”

“I don’t think you want that.”

“I do,” You sobbed. “I want you and everyone else on this shitty island out of my fucking life! I can’t fucking wait to get out of here, away from you and fucking away from Jj! I hate you Rafe, truthfully, I do. But I hate Jj even more, and you’re just here because your dad asked you to be and we both know it, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”

Jj stilled, the flowers in his hand falling to the floor. You turned at the sound and another choked sob left your throat. 

“Get out of my life!” You shouted, running up the stairs to your bedroom. 

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym)

Everything comes out teenage petulance

Fuck it if I can't have him (Can't have him)

I might just die, it would make no difference

Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood)

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up,I might stay

Rafe sighed and looked at Jj. “What the fuck are you doing here man?”

“I wanted to see her,” he mumbled.

“You fucked her up, get out,” Rafe was baring his teeth. “I’m not telling you twice.”

“Please-” he tried but Rafe just sighed. 

Down bad (Like I lost my twin)

Fuck it if I can't have him (I'm down bad)

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

The summer months passed, you went to the mainland for an internship and slowly tried to forget about Jj. He forgot about you. You dreamt of him every night, wished for him every day.You left thousands of messages. 

He didn’t read them.

Like I lost my twin

Fuck it if I can't have him

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: my @wyattjohnston winter fic exchange fic for @senditcolton (whose writing i am OBSSESSED with - praise you like i should made me see the light on matty t) 🥰 i’ve never written for tyler seguin and my only familiarity with him was him showing his own headshot to get into the arena which immediately made me love him lol. i had fun writing this one and i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 12.1k

tw: drinking , fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, hangovers, mild cursing

summary: new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

After your divorce papers are signed, sealed, and delivered - on Christmas day no less, leave it to your jackass ex to find the only lawyer in the entire Fort Worth area willing to work on a national fucking holiday - your best friends appear at your front door with suitcases, bottles of champagne, and round trip tickets to Las Vegas, leaving on the 27th.

“No,” you tell them flatly, arms crossed over your flannel shirt, hair in a three-day old knot on top of your head. “I’m not in the mood to go anywhere, much less Vegas.”

You hadn’t even taken your parents up on the offer to pay for a plane ticket back home to New York for the holidays. It was too much to face them after your marriage had imploded and getting the third degree from your relatives wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. Spending the holidays alone had seemed like a better option, even if the day had been a little lonely. But a spiked hot chocolate and a string of Christmas movie classics had kept you from getting too depressed.

“Honey,” Nora says, in her Christmas sweat set, the cartoon Grinch blazoned across the front giving you a nasty smirk, a patient smile on her face, “now is exactly the time to get away. You just shed a hundred seventy five pounds of jackass, you need a distraction.”

She muscles past you and nearly drags her rolling suitcase’s wheels over your bare toes. You pull your foot back and lean against the wall as Katie and Nic follow her inside, a makeshift parade to celebrate your divorce. Nic at least has the decency to shoot you an apologetic look as she passes, whispering, “I tried to get her to settle for a little trip to a spa, you know, manis, pedis, massage. But you know Nora…”

“Never Takes No for an Answer Nora,” you finish when Nic trails off, smiling a little despite yourself. Nic gives you a little smile and bumps your hip with hers.

“Seriously though,” she says as you close the door behind her, “if you really don’t want to go, Nor will understand.”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, I…it’s probably good for me to get out of town,” you admit reluctantly. It’s been a depressing few months, full of anger and tears and tense phone calls and curt emails. You’re tired of being sad, of being angry, but mostly you’re tired of being in the same city as your asshole ex-husband. Even though you moved out of the house you shared and into an apartment, the entire city holds reminders of your relationship. Now that the divorce is official, you’re starting to wonder if staying in Fort Worth is the right move. Your friends and your job are here, but the risk of running into Jason is astronomically high and maybe a change of scenery would be good. You rub at your forehead - that’s a problem for the new year.

The girls leave their suitcases in a pile in your front hall. Two pairs of Nikes and a pair of Ugg platforms join the suitcases and you’re pulled into a pile on your couch - the college tradition for a broken relationship. Back then it had been cheap wine coolers and binge watching The Bachelor. Now, Nora hands you a bottle of champagne, cheers when you pop the cork, and drops her head to your shoulder after you take a huge gulp. You drape your legs over Katie’s lap and rest your cheek on the top of Nora’s head. It’s not the way you thought you’d be spending the holidays, but you’re so grateful for your friends.

“In about an hour, we’re going to start helping you pack,” Nora says, taking the second bottle of champagne from Nic and swigging from it. “But right now, it’s time to tell us every single negative thought you’ve had about Jackass Jason and didn’t want to say before.“

“Have to cleanse the energy,” Nic says, “by putting all his negative traits into the air and I’ll light some sage.”

“Sage?” You lift an eyebrow, warm and cozy in the cocoon of your friends.

Nic digs into her giant purse and pulls out a wad of sage, tied up with white string. She beams. “Sage! It’s very cleansing.”

Katie cackles a laugh. She kicks Nic’s thigh lightly and grins, “never change those hippie ways, Nicky.”

“Pass me a lighter,” Nic holds out her free hand and wiggles her fingers. Nora drops a well used plastic Bic onto her palm and you lean in to cup your hands under the sage bundle. The last thing you want is ashy smudges on your couch.

It takes two tries, but eventually Nic manages to get the lighter to catch and she holds the flame to the top of the bundle. It immediately starts to smell of the burning herb and smoke rises to the ceiling when she blows out the small fire. You cough a little, the scent of sage stinging your nose. Nic rolls off the couch and begins to wave the stick around, explaining what she’s doing as she goes.

“So, we’re getting rid of all of Jason’s negative energy and karma,” she waves the stick and you wince when a little clump of ashes falls to the carpet and then sigh when Nic’s bare foot grinds them further into the fibers.

“Jason never lived here,” you point out reasonably, the bottle of champagne lighter in your hand as you take another drink. Your chest already feels lighter and less knotted with grief and anxiety.

Nic looks at you like you’re an idiot and you feel strangely chastened, taking another swig from the bottle. “Honey, his negative energy and toxicity was absorbed by you and all the stuff you took from the house. We have to just, like, get his energy out of here.” She cocks her head at you, squints, asks, “would you consider cutting your hair? Hair holds onto a lot of trauma.”

“No!” You yelp, hand flying up to clutch at the knotted mess on top of your head. “I thought you were the ones to talk me out of breakup bangs when he first left? Now I’m supposed to cut my hair?”

“Just a suggestion,” she says, even as the other two chime in from the couch to encourage a change in your hairstyle. Nora mentions a bob and you resist the urge to kick her.

With a roll of your eyes, you say firmly, “I’m not cutting my hair. Let’s move on from this.”

Nic nods and finishes sageing the apartment, leaving a faint haze of smoke in the air and you’re honestly very grateful when she puts the bundle in a ziploc bag and stashes it back in her purse. “Okay,” she beams, dusting off her hands, “bad energy officially cleansed. We can move onto the fun part!” She drinks from the bottle that you’ve mostly emptied on your own and before you can ask what the fun part is, you’re being pushed into your bedroom and the girls are rummaging in your closet for your suitcase.

They work in coordination, while you’re sitting stupid in the middle of your bed, to throw your skimpiest clothes into the opened suitcase. You watch as a colourful array of fabric is tossed from your drawers and wonder what, exactly, they have planned for the trip.

“This one, for sure,” Katie’s voice is muffled from deep in your closet. Her hand appears, the mirrored minidress you bought and wore for the Eras Tour swinging from its hanger. The mirrors sparkle under the hi-hats in your room and throw discs of light onto your bedroom walls.

“What are we doing in Vegas?” You ask finally, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I mean, I love that dress, but can’t this just be a chill trip? Like what if we just got tickets to see Adele? And I can cry to her music?”

“Absolutely not,” Nora shakes her head and Katie shakes the dress at you again. “We’re going to get you to forget about the jackass and the divorce one way or another. Whether it’s drinks or dick, that’s your choice, but you deserve to let loose after taking care of him all these years.”

“Besides,” Katie pipes up, “how good do you think we are that we could get last minute Adele tickets? That shit was sold out months ago!”

Tears prickle at your eyes, your nose burning a little. Divorced at 27 isn’t exactly how you pictured your life going after meeting Jason in college, getting married at 22, and supporting him all throughout his time in law school, but you’re beyond grateful for your girls.

“No dick,” you murmur, a shaky smile on your face. “I’m not ready for that, but drinks I can do.”

The trio cheers and starts tossing more clothes into your suitcase.

——

The next day is spent nursing your mild hangover and repacking the drunken mess you’d all made of your suitcase the night before. Once you’re packed to your satisfaction - mirrored mini dress and platform heels included - you run out for a quick wax before meeting the girls for a manicure.

“I meant to say it last night,” you say watching your crusty old gel polish disappear into dust, “but let me know what I owe you, for the flight and hotel and everything. I’ll Venmo you.”

Nora waves you off, apologising quickly to the manicurist when she complains as Nora’s hand is ripped away. “Don’t even worry about that. I used miles for the flights and -“

“The guy I’ve been seeing?” Nic cuts in. “The hedge fund guy, Mark, he’s treating for the hotel suite.”

Katie’s eyebrows shoot up along with yours. Clearly she didn’t know about the hotel connect. “Whoa,” she grins, “Nicky with the high roller! Hold onto him with two hands.”

Nic blushes. “He’s really sweet too.” She continues talking about him for a few minutes until she stops herself and looks at you with wide eyes and an apologetic expression. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! Here I am rambling on and you’re going through -“

“Oh my god, don’t do that!” You cut her off. “I’m okay! I want to hear about the guys you’re dating. Just because I’m single again doesn’t mean I want death to love for everyone.” You snort a laugh that sounds a little forced even to your own ears. The girls share a look that you hate, but continue talking about the dates they’ve been on and the mediocre sex they’ve been having. Truthfully, you tune them out a little bit, cranky about the divorce, about the trip that was sprung on you, and embarrassingly enough, jealous that they’re having sex at all.

Even before Jason started the divorce proceedings six months ago, it had been nearly eight months before that the last time you had sex. You should’ve realized he was seeing someone else on the side because there was no way he had gone that long without sex. And yet. You’d been caught off guard by the cliched texts found in his phone, the lacy thong found in his car, and the divorce petition delivered to you while he was “working late.” Thinking back on it, you feel supremely stupid.

Now that the paperwork is signed and you’re officially, legally single again, you’re just glad you didn’t have kids or anything really significant to fight over. It’s almost a blessing that the process wasn’t as drawn out as it could’ve been.

You make a conscious effort to push all thoughts of Jason from your mind and try to be in the moment, a task made easier once you’re in the air en route to Vegas and then actually in the city itself. It’s both like the movies and not, colorful and loud and a little sketchy. But you immediately make twenty bucks on a slot machine in the airport, so you figure that’s a good omen for the trip.

The first four days of the trip pass in a blur - all you can eat buffets, drinking, dancing, spas, too little sleep, and too much gambling. You’re up nearly three hundred dollars after being down almost a thousand the day before, so that’s cause to celebrate with drinks. Not that you really need an excuse - you’ve had more alcohol in the last four days than in the last four months. You’re exhausted, but you’ve also laughed more than you have in a year and your face hurts from smiling. The entire city has a numbing effect on your lingering emotions and you feel yourself starting to rediscover who you were before the Jason of it all.

“Time for the mirrorball dress!” Nora singsongs, dancing around the suite in her plush robe. It’s New Year’s Eve and the city feels even sparklier than usual. The streets have been packed with people and the casinos are at capacity - apparently there’s a hockey game tonight too, so the sports bettors are having a field day. You’ve been going to different hotel bars and clubs the past few nights, but tonight is the big night out before you fly back to Texas tomorrow night.

The entire Strip is shut down to traffic for the night and you’re planning on going to TAO for dinner and dancing since it’s inside the Venitian, where you’re staying. It’s a major splurge, but fuck it, you’re about to get alimony from your corporate lawyer ex-husband. You still have Jason’s credit card, so you’re fully planning on putting dinner on his tab, before he realizes that the card is in your possession. For all the little details Jason remembers, he’s surprisingly bad about his finances.

For now though, you dig your hand into the pillowcase that had been full of the little shot sized bottles of alcohol four days ago and is now mostly empty. You groan when you pull out a little bottle of Pink Whitney, the pink lemonade vodka is your least favorite drink. You knock back the shot while the girls cheer you on, all three of them already in various states of tipsy. It honestly feels like you haven’t been completely sober since you left Texas.

Nic blasts a classic 2000s playlist while you’re getting ready and you dance around the huge suite, feeling light and floaty.

It’s complete chaos out on the Strip, even though it’s barely after 7. You could’ve gotten to the restaurant directly through the hotel, but you decide to walk outside for a bit to see what’s happening. It’s chillier than you expected, so by the time you get to the restaurant, you’re more than ready for a drink and dinner. You fill up on sushi and expensive drinks, gossiping about people you knew in college, spilling some more of the more extreme details of Jason’s cheating when you’re finished with your third TAO-tini.

“FUCK HIM!” Katie shouts in the middle of the restaurant, drawing attention to your table. You giggle and shush her drunkenly, waving a hand to get her to lower her voice. “No,” she shakes her head, only marginally quieter, “you really are so much better than that douche. When we get downstairs, we’re finding a man and you’re fucking him!”

Nic giggles and leans a little sideways in her seat, “new dick to cleanse Jackass Jason from your vagina!”

You flush with embarrassment as more people look over, but thank god the waiter comes by with the check. You toss Jason’s platinum AmEx onto the little dish and grin wickedly as you tell the girls, “dinner was on Jason.” They cheer and Nora laughs, “I should’ve ordered another drink!”

Once the bill is paid, with a generous 30% tip added, you traipse downstairs into the club part of the restaurant. The lights are low and the music is loud, plenty of people already drunkenly dancing just three hours before midnight. Nic and Nora join the fray immediately while you and Katie detour off to the bathroom quickly where you fix up your makeup and fluff up your hair, inspecting your face in the mirror. You look tired, but there’s a spark in your eyes that you hadn’t noticed was missing in the last year of your relationship with Jason.

“I’m serious,” Katie says, her solemn tone betrayed by the slight slur to her ‘s’. “Pick a guy in here and I will make sure you fuck him. You deserve a little fun.”

“I have been having fun,” you assure her, your reflection grinning at hers. The alcohol is making your brain pleasantly fuzzy, thoughts drifting away as easily as they come. “I don’t need a man right now,” you continue. “Even for the night. I just want to dance.”

“Okay!” Katie chirps, grabbing your hand and pulling you back out into the club. “Let’s dance!”

And you do. You find Nic and Nora and for a handful of songs, the four of you are jumping and screaming and having a blast.

Sweaty and thirsty, you break off from the girls and wobble towards the bar, weaving in between the throngs of people. The line for the bar is two or three people deep, so you settle in for a wait, looking around the room and people watching. The crowd seems pretty typical for New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, but your gaze lands on a group of men and your heart skips a beat.

There’s at least four of them huddled together, maybe five, and you know you’re drunk, but you didn’t think you were drunk enough to be seeing double. You blink and they come into sharper focus - not seeing double, just two incredibly handsome, dark haired and bearded men. Another dark haired man with no beard and a curly haired blond man. They’re all in slacks and white button downs in various states of unbuttoned, like they came from the office or something. They don’t look out of place in the club though, with drinks in their hands and the way they’re grouped together.

They’re laughing and shoving at each other, like overgrown frat boys, and you can’t look away. You’re captivated by the way they hold themselves, clearly confident in their bodies. Even in the dark of the club, you can see the faint outlines of ink through the white fabric of one of the guys’ shirts.

You’re still staring like a creep when the tattooed guy turns and looks directly at you, making and holding eye contact. A little gasp slips from your lips and your stomach flips, the familiar and nearly forgotten feeling of arousal sparking to life in your stomach. His friends shove at his arms, laughing. You blink and look away, feeling shaky and not from the alcohol. A faint flutter between your legs has you pressing your thighs together. “This is stupid,” you mutter to yourself. Ten seconds of eye contact shouldn’t have had you reacting like this. Yes, it had been a while since you last had sex, but jeez.

You rub your fingers over the bridge of your nose and nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, unfamiliar voice says, “what are you drinking?” right in your ear.

“Oh!” You turn, stumbling just enough that a hand shoots out and grips your elbow to steady you. A warm, broad hand. Attached to a tanned, tattooed forearm. Attached to a broad chest barely covered by an obscenely unbuttoned white shirt - tattoos and chest hair exposed and making your body react. Attached to the dark haired man you had made eye contact with. You blink up into warm brown eyes and ignore the way your stomach clenches up. His thumb brushes against the inside of your elbow and your skin feels like it’s on fire.

His mouth, full lower lip and thinner upper lip surrounded by a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, quirks up at the corner. “In case I wasn’t clear,” he says and you can hear the laughter in his tone, “can I buy you a drink?”

A faint smile touches your own lips and you nod. “Double vodka cranberry,” you say, voice a little raspy from screaming along to the music.

Mystery Man nods, smiling, “good choice. Come with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he slides his hand down your forearm and laces his fingers with yours to pull you behind him while he uses his broad shoulders to muscle past the crowd around the bar. When you reach the bar, he does a quick maneuver, dragging you in front of him so you’re sandwiched between the bar and his chest, heat pouring off his body. He leans forward a bit, pressing against you, and catches the bartender’s attention. Your entire body feels too warm, the thin fabric of your thong growing damp from the solid mass of his chest against your back.

“Double vodka cranberry for the lady,” he orders. “And double scotch on the rocks for me.”

His forearms come to rest on the bar top, trapping you in the circle of his arms. The alcohol is lowering your inhibitions and your intrusive thoughts win out and you arch your back a little, pressing your ass into his crotch, turning your head to look back at him. He wears a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t usually let strangers buy me drinks,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. He doesn’t feel like a threat, doesn’t feel like someone you should be afraid of. You lean a little closer to him, something crackling in the air between your bodies.

Something flitters across his expression, but you’re just this side of drunk and can’t manage to identify it before it’s gone. “Tyler,” he introduces himself, trailing a finger over your arm and up to your shoulder where he plays with the thin silver strap holding your dress in place. “Not a stranger now.” Goosebumps lift on your arms as his fingertip twists in the skimpy strap. His gaze is searing, flickering from your eyes to your lips to the hint of cleavage exposed by the draping of your dress. Your nipples tighten under the fabric, pinching almost painfully.

You offer up your own name in return, taking the drink directly from the bartender when he returns. You sip at it and it tastes stronger than a double or maybe that’s just Tyler’s proximity that’s clouding your senses.

He takes a sip of his own drink and leads you away from the bar, giving you another opportunity to watch his back muscles move under his shirt as he works his way through the crowd. A gym rat, you think, with the way he’s all lean muscle and quiet strength. He’s muscled, but not disgustingly so.

“What are you doing in Vegas?” He asks, when you’re alone again, just off to the side of the bar. You can see the girls out of the corner of your eye, staring at you with matching ‘you go, girl!’ expressions on their faces. You giggle a little.

“Celebrating,” you reply vaguely, taking a sip of your drink and fluttering your lashes. You’re flirting, you realize. You haven’t flirted with anyone since Jason. The bubbly feeling in your chest expands and you smile up at him.

“Huh,” he laughs warmly, “what do you know, me too. And the only thing my night was missing is a pretty girl.”

Alcohol fuels your confidence, along with the hungry way Tyler’s gaze takes in your body, and you reply, “good thing you found me then.”

Your gaze lingers on the notch of his collarbone, the dusting of hair over his chest, the dark lines of his tattoos. Your cunt gives an enthusiastic throb and you swallow heavily.

Tyler leans in a little and you catch a whiff of spicy cologne mixed with the scotch on his breath. This isn’t his first drink of the night either. “Would your friends mind if I monopolized your time tonight?”

Biting your lip, you look over at the girls. Katie is moving her hand near her mouth in the universal sign for blowjob and Nic is giving you the biggest, most encouraging puppy dog eyes. Nora flashes you a double thumbs up, spilling some of her drink in the process. A laugh huffs through your nose and you look back up at Tyler, “no, I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Good,” his smile is adorable, his hand lands on your waist, and you completely forget why you told Katie you weren’t interested in a hook up tonight. “Want to dance?”

You’re not quite sure how it happened - one minute you were dancing with Tyler, one of his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hips gyrated against his pelvis, the hard bulge of his cock obvious every time you moved and the next minute you found yourself pressed up against a wall in the VIP section of TAO, with Tyler’s tongue deep down your throat and his hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingertips playing at the hem of your dress. Your hands are fisted around the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close as you can while you moan into his mouth and cant your hips towards his, spreading your legs a little to encourage his hand’s exploration.

His fingertips make contact with the soaked fabric of your thong and you whimper, knees going weak. Tyler’s lips turn up in a smile against yours and he uses more pressure, finding your clit easily through the fabric until you have to pull back and gasp for air, your head thrown back while you pant.

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, kissing a trail down your jaw and over your throat. “You’re fucking soaked.” He sucks gently at your pulse point, your heart hammering in your chest.

He slips his fingers under the fabric, rough pads of his fingers catching against your slick folds. “Oh my god,” you mutter, grinding against his fingers. “More, please, Tyler.”

He obeys, thumb catching on your clit and middle finger teasing at your entrance before sliding inside easily. A whine catches in your throat and it feels so good, too good. Between the alcohol and the lust and the months long celibacy, you’re at the edge of an orgasm in less than a minute, dripping around Tyler’s fingers before you can even process that you’ve come. White spots dance in your vision and it could be the strobe lights or the searing pleasure from having your clit rolled between Tyler’s thick fingers.

“Good girl,” he grins against your neck, beard and teeth scraping against your skin. Your face already feels rubbed raw with beard burn, but you don’t want him to stop. “Think you can do it again?”

Truthfully you think that you’re so worked up and horny you could come just from Tyler looking at you, but you nod and squeak out a yes.

Tyler bites a mark against your collarbone and drops to his knees, wedging his shoulders between your thighs and forcing them apart. He looks up at you from between your legs, dark eyes even darker with lust and a wicked grin on his face, “hold on, baby, gonna make you see fireworks for the New Year.”

You laugh at the corny line, choking off into a prolonged moan when he buries his face between your legs and presses his tongue flat against your cunt, the wet heat of his tongue pressing your damp thong into your sensitive clit.

You’re beyond thankful for the darkness of the VIP area and the loud music because you can’t contain the noises that Tyler’s drawing from your mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair - fuck, it’s so soft - and hold his face up against your cunt. The other hand reaches blindly for the magnum bottle of champagne you’d been sharing. Technically it’s the second bottle and it’s more than half gone when you tip it up to your mouth for a drink.

“I - ah! I don’t usually doooooh my god, right there - this,” you gasp, writhing over Tyler’s face. His nose is pressed against your clit and his tongue is flat against you, licking with purpose. You grind against his face, making sure the tip of his nose rubs against your clit.

“What,” he pulls back with a wicked grin that only grows when you whine and try to push him back in place with your grip on his hair, “get your pussy licked?”

The bottom half of his face is glistening in the strobe lights and you feel the blush rise on your chest knowing that your body did that to him.

“Um, yes,” you admit quietly, “and the whole, uh, stranger in a club thing too.”

His smile turns a little soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Happy to be your first then,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and lifts your leg so it’s draped over his shoulder and you’re spread even wider for him. You’re impossibly exposed to him and all it does is make you wetter. Tyler tilts his head back a little and opens his mouth, you instinctively pour some champagne into his mouth, the both of you laughing when it splatters onto his face and shirt, making the white fabric nearly see-through. He wipes a little at his face, fingers scraping at his beard, and he shrugs. “Was gonna get all wet and messy anyway.”

He holds his champagne covered fingers up to your face and you lick at his skin, sucking his fingertips into your mouth and letting them rest on your tongue for a moment before he pushes them a little further past your lips, until saliva is dripping down his palm.

Tyler’s head is back between your legs, a strong hang gripping at your thigh, his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucks at the swollen bud and your leg kicks out, the heel of your platform smacking against his back with an audible thunking noise. He grunts into you and you moan an apology, his fingers falling out of your mouth so you can take another gulp of champagne. The bubbles fizz on your tongue and burn going down.

He buries his wet fingers into your cunt, curling and pumping, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear you with how loud the music is in the club. You grind your hips against Tyler’s face and feel him smile, the coarse hair on his face scratching against your inner thighs when you subconsciously try to close your legs around his ears.

“Gonna kill me,” he pulls back and mutters, nipping at the junction of your thigh. You jolt when his hands squeeze at your asscheeks, the scrape of the sequins on your dress adding more overwhelming sensation. He adjusts your thigh over his shoulder, his other hand trailing down your leg and wrapping around your ankle. He pulls back a little and you whine at the loss of sensation. “I like these,” he says, his fingers tapping against the sparkle of your platforms. “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.”

You laugh, about to deny that this is going any further than the club, when his mouth is back on your cunt, tongue stiff and warm as he licks at your clit. All thoughts are gone from your head, aware only of the pleasure Tyler’s giving you. His hands are all over your body, fidgeting from your thighs to your ass and back again, calloused fingertips ghosting over your skin and making you shiver.

You close your eyes against the pleasure building in your body, tears pooling at your waterline. How the fuck did you go this long in life without realizing that you’ve never had a satisfying orgasm? And some random, gorgeous man in a club in Vegas is the one to satisfy you over and over? It’s a shame this is a one night thing.

—-

Sunlight streams in through the windows and you screw your eyes shut tighter, nausea rolling your stomach even though you haven’t moved. It’s like an ice pick is stabbed into your temple, the throbbing somewhere deep in your brain a harsh reminder that you’re not 21 and immune to hangovers anymore.

You press your lips together and lift your hand to rub at your temple, trying to keep your movements as slow as possible so you don’t vomit. Something hard and sharp knocks against your brow bone and you crack one eye open to see what the hell it could possibly be since you don’t remember putting any jewelry on last night. A huge twinkly diamond ring stares back at you from your finger.

The ring finger.

The left ring finger.

…fuck

Your eyes fly open and you ignore the wave of nausea and shooting headache to look around the hotel room. The unfamiliar hotel room. The sheets slide down your chest, exposing you to cold air and making you shiver. Your nipples pebble from the cold and you look down, eyes widening at the little bruises and bite marks scattered over your chest and stomach. You’re naked under the sheets save for a pair of black boxer-briefs looped around one thigh, like you tried to put them on last night and got tired halfway. The fabric is soft and worn and they’re absolutely not your underwear.

“Fuck!” You yelp, gaze landing on Tyler’s prone form in the bed next to you. He’s flat on his back, one arm thrown over his face, the other out to his side with his fingers curled in your direction. “Oh my god!”

His chest is bare, tattoos a stark contrast against the white sheets and his tan skin. He’s got purpling bruises on his chest and stomach too, marks that you must’ve left on him. Marks that make a trail from his collarbone over his pecs, down his stomach, barely hidden by the sheet that rides low over his lap.

If you’re half wearing his briefs, he’s definitely completely naked from the waist down too. Before you can comprehend the thought, you wonder if you left marks lower on his body too.

Your head is moving around like it’s on a swivel, taking in all the details of the room that you’re pretty sure is Tyler’s. There’s a black suitcase in the corner and your dress is a shiny pile on the floor. Your thong tossed over the lampshade on the bedside table. You can’t find your shoes, until you notice them at the foot of the giant bed, left in a haphazard pile and you remember, faintly, Tyler’s words from last night - “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.” They look like they were discarded in a rush, one ankle strap not even fully pulled from its buckle. His clothes are everywhere, tossed in a trail from the door that speaks to how fast you were trying to get him naked.

The hangover is clouding your brain, making it feel like your head is stuffed with cotton, and you haven’t even begun to consider what the ring on your finger means. Maybe it was just a joke? It had to have been a joke.

Tyler shifts, grunting a little in his sleep, and reaches his hand out in your direction like he’s trying to find your body. His movement startles you.

“Ah, fuck!” You yelp, scrambling out of the bed, legs all tangled in the sheets. The briefs slip down your leg and tangle around your ankle. You kick your leg wildly, the black fabric going sailing across the room with the force of your kick. Frantically, you yank at one of the blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed and wrap it around yourself like a toga. Your hands shake a little.

Tyler stirs and blinks sleepily, stretching his arms over his head, giving you a show with how the black ink of his tattoos move. His gaze is unfocused when his eyes finally open, landing on your blanket-wrapped form. A slow smile graces his lips and he rasps, “hey, morning.” There’s a smudge of your dark lipstick on his cheek, partially hidden by his beard. A bruise is sucked into the underside of his bearded jaw and you notice, for the first time, the ragged red nail marks on his shoulders and biceps. He looks like he was attacked by a feral animal - and it’s a jolt to the system when you realize that feral animal had to have been you.

You can’t even find words, mouth gaping open and shut at him like a fish. Now that you’re standing, you finally stop for a second to take stock of your own body. Sticky between the thighs, sore like you’ve never been sore before - in a pleasant, well taken care of way. Your inner thighs feel raw and you know that when you look later, you’re going to find beard burn on the sensitive skin. You can already feel it on your chin and cheeks.

“What is this?” You hold your left hand out to him, the gaudy ring - because now that you’ve gotten a better look at it, it’s not a real diamond, thank god. It’s cubic zirconia or something cloudier than a real diamond and it’s a huge oval, spanning the entirety of your knuckle - glinting in the early morning sunlight.

Tyler squints at you, rolling onto his side before sitting up, either unaware or unconcerned that he’s completely naked and the sheet pools low enough in his lap that you can see the trail of dark hair leading down to his dick and the hair at the very base of him. You try to keep your eyes from looking, but he reaches a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck, making his bicep pop and the sheet move around and you’re only a woman, you can’t help yourself from looking. Your clit throbs between your legs, clearly remembering what happened last night even if most of it after getting eaten out in TAO is a little fuzzy to your brain.

“It’s a ring,” he replies simply, looking like his brain is trying to come back on-line too. He shifts his hand and his eyebrows lift. “Oh, shit. I’ve got one too.”

Your gaze lands on the band on his left ring finger. It’s yellow gold, or something cheap that looks like yellow gold, and you hate that your immediate thought is that it looks good on him. The band contrasts nicely with his skin and he spins it with his thumb, your eyes tracking the rotation.

A little chuckle slips past his lips and you blink at him. He takes in your expression and laughs outright. “Come on, you can’t possibly think we what? Got married last night?” His laugh is warm and too familiar for someone you’ve known less than twelve hours. “That’s a Vegas cliché if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shake your head. “Right, no. Yeah, I’m just being stupid. It’s just—“ you hesitate, glancing around the room again, avoiding looking at him, noticing the - oh god - four condom wrappers discarded on the floor. No wonder you’re so sore. The tenting of the sheet in his lap isn’t doing much to hide his morning wood, the shape of him obvious even with the quick little glances you’ve been sneaking. Four times. It’s a minor miracle that you’re not walking bowlegged.

Tyler stretches again and looks around for something - his clothes, his phone, who knows - while clearly not caring that the sheet is covering next to nothing. “Hey, do you see my phone?” He asks, drawing your attention back to his face. “Just wanna check the time.”

He’s remarkably chill and you’re starting to feel a little crazy for overreacting so much to silly rings bought in a drunken haze. There’s a phone on one of the little decorative tables in the corner of the room and you’re not sure if it’s yours or his, but when you pad across the room to get it, you step on a piece of paper, crumpling it under your heel. Leaning down to pick it up, you fall back on your ass in shock when your eyes land on the words at the top.

Clark County Marriage License

“You okay?” Tyler asks, sounding concerned.

“No,” you manage to squeak out the word around the block in your throat. There in black and white - your name and Tyler’s. Tyler Paul Seguin, apparently, if the document is to be believed. You feel your stomach lurch when you see the date on the license. Last night, New Year’s Eve.

How drunk had you been?

Who the hell had let you get married?

You’re so caught up in the implications of the piece of paper you’re holding that you don’t realize Tyler’s out of bed and squatting next to you, wearing his briefs, thank god.

“Whatcha got - oh,” he cuts himself off, reading the words over your shoulder. “Oh. Shit. Wow.”

He sits down on the floor next to you and you look over at him, eyes wide. “We actually got fucking married in Las Vegas,” you breathe, chest tightening in panic.

“I mean, maybe we didn’t?” He says hopefully. “That’s just a license, doesn’t mean we actually did it.” He taps his fingers absently over one well-muscled thigh, an irregular beat that you somehow sync your breathing to. With a huge effort, you drag your gaze away from his fingers - long and thick and the last you remember, stuffed up your cunt and dragging an orgasm out of your body - and steady your breathing. One hand presses against your chest, fingers digging into your skin like you could reach in and squeeze your heart back into a normal rhythm.

The phone on the tabletop starts buzzing and Tyler reaches up to grab it - “mine,” he says, glancing at the screen and jabs his finger to silence the alarm. He reaches his hand back up on the table and comes back with a handful of Polaroids. He splays them out like a deck of cards and you look at them. “Huh.”

Each picture is blurry as hell, but they’re unmistakably wedding photos. You’ve got a little fluffy veil on. Tyler’s shirt is unbuttoned past is sternum, but tucked neatly into his pants. He’s got you dipped back at the waist, kissing you dramatically. You’re on his back, holding a bouquet of flowers in the air as you kiss his cheek. He’s holding you, chest to chest, one large hand splayed over your bare back, your hand slid underneath his shirt. The Little White Wedding Chapel sign behind you and Tyler in one photo makes what happened last night unavoidable.

“I think we got married,” Tyler states the obvious and you burst into hysterical, gasping laughter. He looks at you, concerned for a beat before starting to laugh himself. It’s not funny at all, but if you don’t laugh, you think you’ll cry.

Once you catch your breath, you hiccup a little noise that sounds like a sob and carefully put the license up on the table. Tyler watches you and then glances back down at his phone, wincing at the time. “So, uh, hate to get married and run, but I have to go,” he taps his phone screen. “I’m on a flight to San Jose in an hour and I really can’t afford to miss that.”

You catch a glimpse of his lock screen and it’s a picture of him cuddling three dogs, which makes you feel marginally better because at least it’s not a woman that he’s cheating on and any man that has his dogs as his phone screen can’t be a total sociopath. A little bit of the knot in your chest unravels.

“San Jose,” you repeat, finally catching onto what he said. “Is that where you live?” You ask the question realizing you know nothing about this man that you’ve married. You didn’t even know his last name until five minutes ago. Oh god. You’re going to have to manage a time difference while filing for divorce. Your thoughts spiral out. Can you even get divorced in a state that’s not Nevada? You should know this, you’re probably the divorce expert in the room. He isn’t giving off divorced man energy, but do you give off divorced woman energy? You hadn’t thought about that and now it’s all you can focus on.

Tyler laughs a little, drawing your attention and stopping your panic attack. “No, thank god. I’m, uh, not to sound conceited,” he says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but you really didn’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You frown, studying his face. Maybe he looks familiar? But in that way that most dark haired white men look alike. You’re almost positive that you’ve never seen him before.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “This is awkward. But I play for the Dallas Stars, the hockey team? We played Vegas last night, San Jose tomorrow.”

You cock your head at him, this new information sinking in. Dallas. Just thirty minutes from your place in Fort Worth. You’ve obviously heard of the Stars, you don’t live under a rock, but you’ve never been to a game, never cared about sports enough to learn any of the players’ names. It would be a weird thing to lie about, but - “prove it.”

“Prove it?” Tyler repeats incredulously. You nod. He frowns and looks like he’s trying to make a decision. After a second, he huffs a little laugh to himself and mutters, “well, it already worked once,” before unlocking his phone and typing away on the screen. A second later he holds it up next to his face, a Google search open on the screen. A headshot - Tyler’s headshot in a green jersey - looks back at you. He grins wryly, “proof enough?” The search bar at the bottom of the screen shows that he typed in ‘tyler seguin dallas stars headshot’ and misspelled his own name as ‘tylor’ - you don’t know why, but it makes you bite your lip to smother a laugh. The little typo is endearing.

You look back and forth between the screen and Tyler, long enough that he starts to genuinely laugh. “C’mon,” he teases, putting his phone down on his thigh, “you’re a tougher sell than security at the arena.”

“Okay,” you offer him a tiny smile, “I believe you. I’m just, um, a little overwhelmed. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever done it before either,” he replies, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be on the road for a bit, west coast swing, but if you put your number in my phone, I’ll have my lawyer start working on the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

He coughs a little awkwardly. “The divorce? Or annulment? Divorce though right? ‘Cause we obviously slept together,” he gestures at the condom wrappers, “so we can’t just sweep it under the rug. Like Ross and Rachel in Friends.”

“No!” The word slips out before you can stop it and Tyler frowns.

“We can annul it? My knowledge of ending Vegas weddings is pretty minimal.” He pauses and then as if to reassure you, says, “my knowledge of ending marriages in general is pretty limited too.”

“No,” you chew at your lip, “it’s still a divorce. But, fuck, this is mortifying. A second fucking divorce before I’m even 28. Good fucking job with your life.” You mutter the last bit more to yourself than to Tyler, tears welling up in your eyes. That would be the last thing you need, to tell your family and friends about this whole debacle. Literally a week after your first divorce is finalized, you go out and get married again. Drunkenly. In Las Vegas!

Tyler’s eyebrow lifts and he doesn’t ask the question he so clearly wants to ask. You scrub a hand over your face, nausea returning but you’re not sure if it’s the hangover this time or the way he’s looking at you.

“What if,” he says slowly, studying you carefully for a reaction, “what if, we just…didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” You shift, the floor uncomfortable under your sore ass. The blanket wrapped around your body isn’t the softest and you’re starting to sweat a little despite the cold air pumping into the room. Tyler’s presence next to you is becoming distracting, the movement of his chest muscles, the rasp of his voice. Your body wants more of him.

“Didn’t get divorced…” he tilts his head at you, keeps looking you in the eye, even after your jaw drops and the blanket slips a little. “We could, I don’t know, just -“

“Stay married?” You finish for him, eyebrows up in your hairline. He nods, shrugs - why not? “Oh my god.”

Tyler’s phone vibrates on his thigh and he glances down at the alarm. It reminds you that you have no idea where your own phone is and you really, really need to talk to the girls. He jabs at the alarm again and looks apologetic. “I really do have to go,” he gets to his feet and holds out a hand to pull you up. A spark shoots up your arm when his fingers clasp around yours. He doesn’t let go right away, his thumb rubbing against the backs of your fingers. “Think about it,” he looks at you more softly than you think he really should be in this moment. “You said you don’t do this kind of thing,” he continues, “but new year, new you?” The tiny smile he gives you sends your heartbeat into overdrive and this cannot be good for your health.

“Drunk married in Vegas would be a really new me,” you reply faintly. His hand finally falls away from yours and you’re mildly concerned to realize that you miss his touch. Your fingers flex at your side.

His smile doesn’t waver and he reaches out to brush a piece of hair off your cheek, fingertips lingering on your skin. “I’ll be back in Dallas in two weeks. Think about it, I’ll take you to dinner and we can just…go from there.”

He says it so simply, like it’s nothing. Strangely enough, you do feel calmer than you had a few moments ago, Tyler’s steady calm rubbing off on you.

“Okay,” you nod, repeating yourself. “Okay. I’ll…two weeks.”

Tyler grins a little wickedly. “At least we know we’re good together in bed,” he teases, kicking at a condom wrapper with his bare foot.

A laugh startles out of your chest and you find yourself nodding in agreement. “I, ah, definitely agree with that,” you murmur, your entire face flaming with heat.

——

One Year Later - New Year’s Eve. Dallas. TX

Tyler greets you at the door, suited up and bouquet of flowers in hand. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin,” he grins at you.

“Mr. Seguin,” you laugh back, leaning in to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him soundly, nipping at his lower lip. When you pull back, you’re breathless. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

His hands roam up and down your back, catching in the fabric of your sparkly white minidress, sliding up under the hem to knead at the flesh of your ass. He grins wickedly when his hands don’t find any fabric covering your ass. You smirk at him and wink, giggling when he pinches a cheek.

You lean into his touch with a contented purr. If it wouldn’t make you late for your own party, you’d pull him inside the house for a quickie. You’d already had sex this morning - a wedding present, according to Tyler when he’d given you back to back, mind numbing orgasms with his tongue and dick before you’d returned the favor with a blowjob that had rendered him speechless for twenty minutes - but you would never get enough of being in Tyler’s arms.

“Does it count as bad luck if none of the guests know they’re coming to a wedding?” He asks, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Or a vow renewal, technically.”

The last twelve months have been a little insane and honestly, looking back, you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

After getting dressed quickly, Tyler had found your phone wedged in the cushions of the hotel room’s armchair. The battery was nearly drained but your screen was lit up with more than a hundred texts in the group chat with the girls and nearly as many missed calls. When you had finally called back, all three had shrieked that they were twenty minutes away from reporting you missing. You’d kept the little surprise of legally binding matrimony to yourself, but had admitted to the girls that you’d spent the night with Tyler and that he lived in Dallas and that you were going to see where it went. The flight home was full of whispered shrieking and more questions than you had honestly had answers for at the time. The gaudy engagement ring was buried in the bottom of your toiletry case, acting like the tell-tale heart, blood rushing in your head every time you thought about it.

When you got home, you’d shoved the ring in your jewelry box, determined not to think about it, but found yourself absently running the pad of your thumb over the underside of your ring finger when you let your mind wander to Tyler.

After Tyler had returned to Dallas from his two week road trip - during which you’d basically internet stalked him and spiralled out quietly about not filling for a divorce right away - you’d finally decided to give it, give Tyler a chance. He’d texted nearly every day he was gone, sending stupid jokes or a picture of something he thought would amuse you. Worst case scenario, you filed for divorce and went through the process all over again. By the time Tyler took you out for dinner at a quiet dive-y taco place in Fort Worth where you could actually hear each other, both of your memories of the wedding night had returned, although yours were coloured in a hazy film that made the whole thing seem like a fever dream.

The little ceremony had been officiated by an Elvis impersonator, another Vegas cliché, a fact that you’d learned when Tyler had found another Polaroid in his wallet when he was on the plane to San Jose. You’d cracked up when he finally showed it to you in person - Elvis in the middle, clearly past his prime, with you and Tyler on either side of him doing your best air guitar? Maybe?

“I think I’m trying to do an Elvis hip swivel,” Tyler had laughed.

“Whatever it is, it looks like we’re both mid-seizure,” you’d nearly snorted your drink out of your nose. Looking at the photographs was fun now, a little warmth building in the pit of your stomach, not the tight, nauseous coil of anxiety that you’d experienced when you had first seen them.

Other wedding details were still a little hazy, like where you had picked up the rings or what exactly the ceremony had consisted of, beyond being declared man and wife and being told to kiss and cement your “burning love.”

(What you remembered and what Tyler made sure you didn’t forget was just how good you were in bed together. The four condom wrappers on the floor were not an anomaly with Tyler.)

He’d gotten you tickets for games, right up against the glass so he could skate by you during warmups and tap his glove against the glass to capture your attention. After a few games, once you’d decided to really commit to the relationship and were official within your friendship circles, he picked up the habit of blowing you a kiss, grinning when you’d blush.

He’s really good at his job and you’re only a little surprised to find that you actually love watching him play. It’s horrific watching him get hit or tossed into the boards, but when he scores a goal and celebrates in a big hug with his teammates you’re always the first one on your feet, screaming your head off.

You’d brought the girls to a game early on in your relationship and all three of them had been surprised at how comfortable you were in the arena and how quickly you’d picked up the rules of the game. It was hard to explain that you weren’t just trying to make a regular relationship work, but a whole marriage. The stakes were just a little bit higher than usual.

The league had a break for the All-Star Weekend in early February and Tyler had surprised you with a trip to Mexico, where you’d soaked up the sun and gotten to know each other better, giving him all the sordid details about your divorce and sharing stories from your childhoods over icy margaritas and more tacos than your body knew what to do with. He’d told you about his early career, his misbehavior in Boston and how much he loved being in Dallas. The long weekend was slow and lazy, leaving so much time for the two of you to really talk and get to know each other. The experimental sex in a hammock on the beach was the icing on the cake.

After that, it was like a switch flipped and all you wanted to do was be with him. Truthfully, you sometimes forgot that you were thrown into the relationship with a marriage and settled comfortably into dating Tyler, folding each other into your lives, moving in with him, telling him you love him and hearing him say it back, cheering him on when Dallas made it all the way to the Western Conference Finals before being bounced in seven games by, of all teams, the Vegas Golden Knights.

Summer break meant a road trip to Whitby to meet Tyler’s family. A drive that should’ve been two or three days took nearly a week because you kept making random stops to see the silliest monuments advertised on the highways. You’d nearly killed him driving through Illinois, convinced this was the end of the relationship and you’d have to pull the trigger on the divorce, and then he had surprised you by stopping at a corn maze and getting lost in it with you almost immediately. Your stomach had hurt from laughing with him and making out like teenagers.

The trip to his hometown had been beyond fun, getting Tyler to show you his childhood haunts and seeing all the baby pictures of him with his mom telling you stories too.

On the drive back to Dallas, halfway through Oklahoma and in the middle of the night, while you’re pulled over on the side of the road to look at the stars, Tyler asked you to marry him. Again.

This time you had the moment committed to memory, the way Tyler’s hands had been shaking slightly with the black velvet box popped open in his fingers. The way Tyler’s speech rambled, like he hadn’t prepared anything or had forgotten his words just as he started talking, explaining how your relationship had started in an unconventional manner, but he couldn’t picture his life without you now. The way you’d started crying almost the second he had turned to you on the hood of the car with that gorgeous ring glinting at you in the moonlight and how you hadn’t stopped until he’d slid the ring home on your finger and kissed you like he’d never kissed you before.

Over the months, the wedding plan shifts and changes, from a summer wedding so you can have a real ceremony and party, the whole nine yards, to what it actually ends up becoming - a quiet inside joke with the two of you in order to keep your anniversary date, a New Year’s Eve party for your closest family and friends to be surprised at midnight when you and Tyler recite your vows.

It’s much easier to plan a party in six months than it would’ve been to plan a wedding.

Jamie Benn, Tyler’s best friend and the dark haired man in Vegas you had initially thought was just you seeing double, is tapped as the officiant, getting ordained online and getting really into his role, not knowing it’s basically all just a front. He just loves that he’s the only one in on the secret, constantly wearing a shit eating grin any time any of your other friends discuss wedding plans for a summer wedding that’s not going to happen.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces,” you admit, hooking your hand in the crook of Tyler’s elbow and letting him lead you out to the car. He does a double take when he notices your hand.

“What’s that?” He taps on the ring nestled on your ring finger. Your original wedding ring from a year ago had been replaced with a real diamond, still an oval, but smaller and more tasteful. But that’s not what you’re wearing right now.

Your lips twist up in a sly smile. The huge, gaudy cubic zirconia is back on your finger, your second engagement ring tucked safely in its box in your drawer. “It didn’t feel right to get married without it,” you admit, flexing your fingers against his arm so the fake gem will sparkle.

Tyler’s laugh is contagious. “Everyone’s going to ask about it,” he warns you.

“Let them,” you shrug. “I want to wear my original ring on my anniversary.”

Hours later, when the surprise has been pulled off and Jamie announces that Tyler may kiss his bride, you fall into your husband’s arms, kissing him with all that you’ve got.

Fireworks go off outside the venue, the countdown to midnight at less than a minute.

“Happy anniversary, wife,” Tyler grins against your lips, quiet enough that only you can hear him.

Around you, the countdown continues, seconds ticking away until it’s January first.

“Happy New Year, husband,” you whisper back, laughing when he dips you back dramatically.

The party continues well into the early hours of January first, you and Tyler having had the foresight to rent out the venue for twice as long as a normal party. You spend the night flitting between dancing with your friends and cuddling up against Tyler’s side, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your cheek is pressed against Tyler’s side, the wrinkled fabric of his button down soft under your skin. Your fingers play with the buttons, slipping them from their holes one by one until his shirt is more unbuttoned than not.

Tyler smirks down at you, his hand rubbing an arc over your hip, rucking up the fabric with each upward stroke of his hand, exposing your thigh inch my inch. “Undressing me already, wife? Can’t wait for the wedding night?” He winks at you and you laugh into his chest.

“I think that ship has sailed,” you murmur, sliding your hand under the unbuttoned shirt and over the smooth skin of his stomach, ridged muscles dancing under your touch. You yawn a little, the weird combination of overtired and wide awake making your brain buzz.

Tyler holds you close and leans down a little to whisper in your ear, “want your anniversary gift?”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I thought I already got my gift this morning?”

“That was a wedding gift,” Tyler teases. “This is an anniversary gift, and no, it’s not in my pants.”

You giggle and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “Shame, I like what’s in your pants.”

“I’ll give you that later,” he promises, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, I stashed it in the coat closet.”

He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you off, getting stopped every few feet by someone else who wants to gush about what a great surprise the party was. “Just couldn’t wait another minute to marry her,” Tyler grins in response every time, making you laugh at his side, the inside secret of your Vegas marriage a warm fizz in your chest.

When you finally escape off to the coat closet, you try to loop your arms around Tyler’s neck and lift up on your toes to kiss him. He obliges you happily, cupping the back of your head and giving you a searing kiss before pulling away. You whine, “I thought we were sneaking off for a wedding night quickie?”

“I literally told you that your gift wasn’t in my pants,” Tyler laughs, kissing your cheek. “Why would you think I wasn’t being serious?”

Your hands find their way underneath his shirt again, fingertips digging into the muscles of his back, and drawing yourself closer to him. “Because I wanted you to be kidding,” you reply. “A little coat closet quickie would be a fun way to start the year.”

“And normally, I’d agree, baby. But I think you’re gonna like this gift,” he leans forward and reaches behind you, giving you the opportunity to press your nose against his collarbone. When he pulls back, he has a fairly large, flat wrapped package in his hand.

“What’s that?” You ask, taking the gift from Tyler as he leans back a little, shoulders resting against the wall, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The package is lighter than you thought it would be.

He nudges your foot with his, “open it.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you chew at your lower lip. Neither of you had really discussed the fact that it’s your anniversary or gift giving and now you’re a little embarrassed that you hadn’t thought about it. You sway a little on your feet, fingers ripping a little at the corners of the paper until it crumples under your touch and the corner of the gift pokes through.

Tyler shakes his head. “Don’t care. It’s kind of something for both of us anyway,” he says and you wait for the little joke, the tease that you can let him unwrap you later, but it never comes and that’s how you know your husband is about to make you cry with whatever this gift is.

You can feel Tyler watching you as you pull back the paper - leftover Christmas wrapping that’s so clearly been wrapped by a man, too much tape and messy folds. God, you love him - and expose a frame. It takes you a second to process what’s behind the glass, but when you do, you hiccup a little gasp and tears well at your lash line.

Behind the glass is your marriage license with last year’s date and your pair of wobbly signatures. The Polaroids you’d taken that night surround the license and you trace trembling fingertips over the image of you kissing Tyler on the cheek.

“Tyler…” your voice cracks on his name and he gives you a soft little smile.

“This year his been batshit insane, baby,” he leans into your personal space and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “But I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married.”

Tears are sliding down your cheeks and you nod, “I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married, too.”

His laugh is muffled by all the coats surrounding you, but it’s warm and it feels like home. He pulls you into a hug, the frame smushed between your bodies and digging into your stomach, but you don’t care. Tyler’s hand curls around the back of your neck and you wipe at your eyes with the back of your wrist, black mascara smudges streaking across your skin. You giggle a little wetly, “I’m such a mess, oh my god.”

“Everyone will just think you dragged me off so you could have your wicked way with me,” Tyler teases, smirking at you.

“Coat closet quickie for the newlyweds,” you reply, grinning. You settle the frame on the floor, the back of it leaning against your leg, and really wrap your arms around Tyler’s neck, pressing a kiss against the hollow of his throat. The spice of his cologne invades your nostrils and you press your nose harder against his throat, enveloped in his warmth.

Tyler rests his chin on the top of your head and hums, rolling his hips against yours lazily so you can feel the bulge behind his fly. “I could give you a real quick one, just to make sure you don’t have to lie,” he ducks his head to whisper in your ear, kissing at the hinge of your jaw. His hand slides down to graze your ass and you’re nearly ready to say yes, suddenly desperate for him, when a loud bang on the door has you jumping back, heart pounding from the shock, nearly cracking Tyler’s chin with your head. The frame bounces off your leg with your movement, falling to the floor with a little clatter that you hope isn’t broken glass.

“Fuck!” He yelps and you clap your hands over your heart, gasping. “Jesus, who is it?”

Jamie’s voice is choked with laughter as it comes through the door. There’s a slight slur to his words too, as he shouts, “stop fucking on everyone’s coats, we’re doing body shots.”

Your jaw drops open and Tyler rolls his eyes at the interruption. He bangs on the door with a hand and shouts back, “fuck off! I’m trying to spend some time with my wife.”

“Actually,” you say slowly, a little smirk forming on your face, “body shots could be fun…”

“Yeah?” Tyler lifts an eyebrow at you, palm flat on the door.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a wicked grin, “you know I like the way champagne tastes on your skin.”

Tyler’s eyes shut like he’s in pain and your gaze slides down to see the bulge in his pants grow. “You’re a fucking menace and I’m so fucking glad you’re my wife,” he mutters, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you out of the coat closet, nearly knocking Jamie over in his hurry, your shrieked giggles drowned out by the music from the party.

The next morning, afternoon really by the time you finally open your eyes, you wake up with half of your body draped over Tyler’s completely naked one. His hip and thigh is securely wedged between your legs, his morning wood hot against the outside of your thigh. One of your arms is in the sleeve of Tyler’s button down, the rest of the fabric draped over your back like a blanket. The hangover pounds at your temples and the sunlight blinds you and it’s such a deja vu moment you almost think you’re back in Vegas, right until the moment Tyler’s hand twitches against your lower back and he rubs his bearded chin against the top of your head. You melt against him, sighing happily.

“Anniversary party slash vow renewal every New Year’s Eve?” Tyler rasps against your hair, sliding his hand up your spine.

You hum into his skin, “as long as you get me electrolytes and a greasy breakfast on January first, I’m in.”

“How about a headache relieving orgasm first?” Tyler rolls you gently onto your back, already kissing a path down your body. You shiver with each brush of his lips and your legs fall open for him to slot himself between them. He rests his chin on your hip bone and looks up at you with a soft look in his eyes that doesn’t match the hungry smirk that curves his lips.

“What?” You ask, angling your neck to look at him, raking a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. There’s a little streak of glitter against his temple and you brush your thumb over it, wiping the smudge away.

He shakes his head a little. “Just thinking about this past year,” he lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “How fun it’s been, how glad I am that we did the surprise last night.”

“Getting soft on me, Seguin?” you tease, poking at his side with your foot. He wiggles away a little from your touch, ticklish even though he won’t admit it.

“You know I’m anything but soft for you,” he laughs, nipping at your skin. “Let me prove it.” He presses a kiss against your hip bone and then lower and then there’s no more thoughts, just you and Tyler and the rest of forever stretching out in front of you.

[the-starry-lycan]

Sea of Stars Headcanons 01

Whoo! As I play this game, I adore each of the characters, but I feel that some of them are a little bit of blank slates. As such.. there's much room for headcanons! I'll be making some for a bunch of SoS characters, and to kick off the list with my very first hcs, I'll be doing some for Zale! Our favourite sunboy and solar blade dancer!

Out of the main trio, Zale is the shortest of the three. He may not be the tallest, but he's got muscle! He's still pretty damn strong. Valere and Garl do still tease him for being little, though.

He likes (surprise!) sunny weather the best, and has a great tolerance for heat. Doesn't really care what the temperature's like, as long as the sun's out, so he doesn't mind being out in the snow.

In the snow, he's the type to go for the elaborate snowball fights with snow forts and such.. he also liked Glacial Peak, enjoying how the ice was fun to slide about on.

When it comes to food, Zale likes strong, spicy-tasting foods, much to the dismay of Valere and the others. When Garl was unable to make food for the party and it was Zale's turn to cook, his food would generally turn out to be a near-inedible concoction of spices and powerful flavours.

He used to balk at being made to sew for hours in his Zenith days, much to Moraine's chagrin, and would run off to attempt some mischief or the other.

His high energy levels mean he's proooobably bad at meditating hehe, as he cannot sit still for the life of him a lot of the time.

He probably also had a messy side of the room when he was in Zenith, and Valere would help him organize it.

Zale was closer with Brugaves than Erlina as a child, since he and Brugaves shared an easygoing attitude.

Oh, definitely a dog person, though he likes animals of all sorts.

Out of all the party members, he gets along best with Garl and B'st, and doesn't get along all too well with Resh'an and Serai at times.

He's also very good at fishing, and ends up catching the good stuff for Garl to cook.

When Zale is sick or hurting, he craves affection and comfort quite openly. He'll cuddle up to Garl and/or Valere, maybe even Seraï, if the assassin allows (or is roped in to watch him).. Resh'an not so much as the Alchemist doesn't like it, but B'st is good with it.

Speaking of affection.. this boy is very physically affectionate. He likes to hug, hold, and keep close physical proximity to those he likes. Oftentimes, he'll idly play with Garl or Valere's hands or hair, or lean on them casually (or just touching shoulders, no weight on them).

He enjoys boisterous play, sparring matches, and roughousing, oftentimes the victim of these being B'st or Valere. The former will gladly indulge, while the latter is sort of neutral to it depending on her mood.

He also bothers Resh'an like this, and the Immortal Alchemist does NOT enjoy it.. partly why Zale likes to annoy him sometimes hehe.

Zale is a morning lark, and does not do well with staying up late in the night.. he gets sleepy fast, and likes to go to bed decently early and get his sleep.

His push-ups idle animation has him looking mighty pissed lol, I imagine he does them (and other exercises/training) for hours on end when he's feeling angry.. a good way to release emotion in any case.

He'll also be visibly grumpy, though his grudges never last long unless they've deeply hurt him (cough cough erlina brugaves)

[pebblysand]

hello! how annoyed i am that this wouldn't fit all into one post 🙄. this is part 2 of the castles playlist commentary.

<LINK TO PART ONE> <LINK TO PART THREE>

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Formidable by La Bronze (Stromae cover): god, do i love this song. and god do i love this cover almost more than the original. i love how she made it less sad and more angry with the more rock-like music, as well as the sound of arabic. it works So Fucking Well. the chorus of this song sort of says it: we were incredible.

The Kid I Used to Know by Arrested Youth: just one of those songs i used to listen to on loop while writing/planning that arc of castles. i do think of this time in this fic as the formal end of harry's childhood, when he finds out about ginny and realises that all their innocence has gone. so long to the kid i used to know.

Hold On by Ren: i feel like there's such a restlessness in this chapter that you also find in this song. this sort of endless torrent of stuff coming harry's way, and him trying to... get through it and hold on.

Blind Leading The Blind by Mumford & Sons: i had originally put this one in for chapter nine, but i actually think it's more of a chapter ten song. welcome to the trials, aka the epitome of the blind leading the blind.

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? by Arctic Monkeys: ah. were you also a teen in the early 2010s? welcome to the song. obviously - very harry & ginny in this chapter.

Falling Is Like This by Ani DiFranco: i've always adored this song ever since i discovered it referenced in another fic. it's where i got the idea of the car running off a cliff in last chapter - it's also very heavily referenced in this chapter. think of it like a transition song lol. just such a Mia mood. falling is like this.

Je suis un homme by Zazie: i was looking for a song this morning to operate the transition between falling is like this and the kids are all rebels, and i settled on this one. judge me all you want but i love zazie, and i think this works quite well with the beginning section of this chapter that is a little bit like the song: humans and their institutions going round in circles.

The Kids Are All Rebels by Lenii: i loooove lenii. she's irish (🇮🇪🥳) and this song is such a DA song. there's this dimension of youthful idealism hitting the brick wall of adulthood, and the things they see the government do which they're not happy with. the song itself was written about trump's covid policies, but it fits so well here too!

Anthem by YOKANA & Barns Courtney: i think this is self-explanatory. harry is starting to doubt his "no comment" strategy...

Statues by Alexandre Desplat: we're... starting a new war in courtrooms, aren't we? jokes aside, it's probably my favourite music from the films, very war-coded, it makes me want to rise up to battle, so.

Remember the Name by Fort Minor & Styles of Beyond: there's something about the relentless rhythm of this song that i just love for the end of this chapter. like: LET'S GOOO!

Legendary by Welshly Arms: i see this as the DA's song, too, you know? not just harry. they're all doing something legendary.

Till I Collapse by Eminem: this is one of my favourite eminem songs, and i think it fits really well with the beginning of this chapter. the onslaught of press coverage regarding harry's and the DA's actions, and their common desire to push through no matter what.

Instant Crush (feat. Julian Casablancas) by Daft Punk: i actually wanted to put da funk in this playlist (which is the song mentioned in the fic) but i chose not to subject you all to five minutes of lyric-less late-naughties techno music 🤣. i also feel like putting this right after Till I Collapse is a bit of an insult to eminem ("you don't know me, you're too old, let go - it's over, nobody listens to techno" 😅), which is a bit funny lol.

Teenage Culture by SKYLAR: it's funny, i listened to this song on loop the summer of 2023 but didn't really find an excuse to add the song to the castles playlist until it finally hit me now that it was per-fect for this chapter. i love skylar and i love this song, it's so tongue-in-cheek and yet lyrically incredibly clever. i think this is such a teenage anthem and fits so well for this chapter, both in the "partying" side of it, but also in a the-kids-are-all-rebels sort of way. i just absolutely love it.

Everyone's at It by Lily Allen: i've just realised this is the first lily allen song in this entire playlist which, if you know me and how much of a lily allen stan i am, is wild. i stole some of the lyrics of this song for the chapter; it's about the double-standards that exist in dealing with drug addiction, which ginny talks about a bit. it's a song that was very important in opening my young eyes on this topic, when i was a teenager. i feel like it also goes so well with the SKYLAR song, it's like the millenial-advocate-y song to SKYLAR's gen z, more apathetic/don't-care take.

all the good girls go to hell by Billie Eilish: i have a very strange relationship with Billie Eilish's music where i listen to her only for very specific occasions and moods, but i do love that song. and, idk, i kind of see it as a symptom of ginny's slight "descent" in this chapter, where under the surface, partying and sleeping around begins to be less "fun" than it used to be. there's something weirdly haunting about Billie Eilish's music (esp the first album, that i feel fits here).

Any Other World by Mika: i added this song to the playlist rather recently but if you are a the good wife fan, it will of course sound familiar. i think i was looking for a song to finish off this chapter and recently was lucky enough to see Mika play live in dublin, and thought it just fit. it's neither really a love song nor a political song, it's a third thing, and i think it's really symbolic of the conclusion you reach at the end of this chapter of "say goodbye to the world you live in". i think this chapter is really the point of no return, this sort of deep realisation that nothing will be the same anymore. it's also the halfway point of the fic (in terms of chapters), so i reckon it works.

Un peu d'espoir by Joyce Jonathan: i relistened to this song recently and i think it really suits the beginning of the chapter. there's a growing up vibe to it and, nostalgia, sadness and hope at the same time. i really see it playing in that time where harry reflects on the upcoming anniversary of the war and where he and ginny talk about the aftermath.

Dance Monkey by Tones and I (Stripped Back): okay. i know this is a bold choice but let me explain. basically: i was working on completing the playlist and was looking for a song for the end of the trials, draco's hearing and all the politics in this chapter. i looked up my top songs of 2022 (which is when this chapter was written) and found out i actually listened to this song quite a lot that year (the original version of it). and yes, this is a dance song, but when you look at the lyrics, there's a vibe of, like, the establishment and the wider world forcing you to do something you don't really want to do? like, sure, here, this is a woman who's being told, basically "why don't you dance/smile more" but i think this is also applicable to harry and his relationship with the press and the wizarding world in general. there is a dimension in it of "dance monkey! dance!" where he's just like - not feeling it. this is the chapter where he rebels, too, and actually doesn't stick to the script, and pushes the wizarding world to change, and we love that for him. i chose the stripped back version for the playlist, because i feel it just fits the mood more than the dance version of this song.

bad guy by Billie Eilish: ugh. do i need to explain? i mean, harry, come on. stop toying with two girls at the same time.

Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran: a bit the same as the above. my bad habits lead to you - you can't quite let ginny go, can't you?

Arcade by Duncan Laurence: if you were on tiktok in the golden age of dracotok, this song will need no introduction. i don't even think the lyrics fit but i now have such a strong association between draco malfoy and this song, it needed to be there in this chapter.

This Is What Makes Us Girls by Lana Del Rey: i feel like this is a lesser-known Lana song, but it's haunted me for years. i think there's a vibe of "for us girls, it's just the way wars are fought" in that song. and, with this chapter being the one where we find out about pansy, i couldn't not include it.

Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons: i've always felt like this was such a castles song overall, but struggled to find a good spot for it in the playlist. and then, i don't know. i feel like this moment after malfoy tells harry the truth and when he's having his tirade about systems just... works. this is a song that to me, represent the both of them, actually. i'll never wear your broken crown, i'll never be your chosen one. for malfoy, it's realising just that - he's not the chosen one. for harry, it foreshadows what's to come with alecto.

Mr. Sandman by SYML: okay, i cannot possibly explain this but i very strongly associate this song with the vibe of draco in prison, and that last scene. it's bizarrely haunting, and i think fits the mood perfectly.

Wrecked by Imagine Dragons: this song is one of those songs about grief that are maybe a bit one the nose but idk, i like it. i listened to it loads the summer it came out, and it inspired me to bring giulia back in this chapter. so there you go haha.

In Your Heart by The Franklin Electric: this is a song i love and i've listened a lot, but again, one that i couldn't really find a good place for in the playlist. but i was looking for a song to cover sort of the alecto/kingsley era of this chapter and i think it's perfect. it's vague enough that it could be about anything, and generally it's very much about guilt and substance abuse, and feeling lost, and very "in your head" which fits the bill. the beginning in particular really speaks to me: it's your fault, when your pride grows thicker than your skin, it's burning up like oxygen. and also this: the teachers never told you about reasonable doubt. i think it very much resonates with harry making that awful decision in that moment, and the guilt/unease that flows from it.

Foundations by Kate Nash: ah, do i even need to explain this one? this article was making the rounds a while back and it's So On Point. this song is an anthem to the breakdown of that first adult relationship you have with a boy that's a dickhead and this is mia's anthem. she deserves it. my fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundations and i know that i should let go, but i can't. i feel like this is so representative of that moment where everything points towards mia leaving him, but instead she asks him to come with her. darling, you deserve so much better!

People Help The People by Birdy: i was looking for a song to cover the memorial and i think this one (this version in particular) is just so beautiful. there's something very breathy and airy and the lyrics really resonate. the ups and downs of the verses v. the chorus of people helping people. give me your hand and i'll hold it is also building towards the hinny moment later. i really love this here.

Tobacco In My Sheets by Lauren Aquilina: god, i've loved and listened to this song so much. to me, it's the ginny&molly song. i've also hesitated on placement, it could have been earlier when molly and ginny were fighting, or later in 22, but ultimately, that scene with the hug is what i'm choosing. this song breaks my heart into a million pieces every time i hear it.

Higher by Lily Allen: ugh. this is probably one of my old time favourite lily songs. it took me a long time to understand it, listen to an interview when she was explaining this was written from the POV of her ex-husband. there's something so tragic about it, but i also really like the conflictual-ness of it, the one-upping each other which is a little bit what harry and ginny are doing for part of their conversation. there's also harry's unrelenting, unyielding attitude towards ginny's fuck ups, both tolerating them, but also making it clear that it needs to stop. it's your life, i said i'd never let you waste my time, i said you'd never hear me say that twice. you crossed that line. i just fucking adore this song.

Delilah by Florence + The Machine: there's a complexity in that song of i'm gonna be free, i'm gonna be fine, but also holding on for your call, i can never let go that i feel is very much the dichotomy of ginny in this chapter. the certainty and confidence but also the vulnerability of her conversation with harry at times.

Supernatural by Barns Courtney: i kind of see this song also as a transition into next chapter. one last time, let you back into my head - to me, it's harry and ginny sort of dancing around each other like they do in the of that conversation. want-me-want-me-not. they both do it at times, and especially harry in the next chapter, and i think it's a good song to launch the next part.

I'm Not A Saint by Billy Raffoul: this song has strong castles!harry vibes - at least for that era of his life lol. i kind of both see it as the opening song for the whole alecto mess, but also as an anthem for the whole chapter. i've one too many cigarettes, burning off my tongue, and the chorus of i'm not a saint but i could be if i tried is very harry/mia.

Lap Dance by Ycare: i fucking love this song. literally, i see it as the harry&hermione dancing scene song. more figuratively, it's harry dancing around with mia and ginny hot-and-cold-ing harry.

Trigger Bang (feat. Giggs) by Lily Allen: another of my favourite lily songs ever - i remember it came out as one of the early releases on no shame and i fucking gasped when i first heard it, i think it's my favourite song on the album. i actually listened to that album a lot while writing act 2 of castles; it's an album that deals a lot with addiction and messing up, which obviously is very much ginny's arc at that point. particularly, this song inspired the party thing where ginny says she'll avoid the party because (in other words), it's triggering to her. i was trying to find an excuse for the "one time they didn't meet" to fit with the theme of the chapter, and that song is what inspired me to write the whole party subplot, actually. that's why i can't hang with the cool gang, everyone's a trigger bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

The List by Maisie Peters: i love the successions of these two songs because they kind of build off on each other. it's new resolutions and turning a page, which is very much what ginny does here.

July by Noah Cyrus: ugh. self-explanatory. this is the most mia song ever. leave him. just leave him (spoiler alert, she can't).

Double Denim - the one to cry to at 3am by SKYLAR: another massive ugh. mia, stop falling for the bad boys. and harry, you are this song in this chapter. this song also have some of my favourite lyrics by SKYLAR ever, which apply so well in this context: mister, mister, if she's like a sister, why did you kiss her? what? to be polite? but aphrodite don't go kiss athena so why d'you kiss her? just, out of spite?

Back To Black by Amy Winehouse: ah, amy, my love. another victim of the tabloid press. i've always seen this song as mia's break-up song, and the title of the paris fic is taken from back to black. he left no time to regret, kept his dick wet, with his same old safe bet. baby, mia, my dear, i'm so sorry.

BLIZZARD by Fauve: there's this meme on french tiktok right now that's like: "the kids who used to passionately listen to Fauve in the summer on 2015, how are you all doing??" 😅 not well is the answer to that question lmao. jokes aside, for anyone not familiar, Fauve were a bit of a musical concept back in the day, and they have a lot of slam/rap songs about love and mental health and stuff that were very #deep but sure look, i still fucking love them. and, this song is so castles!hinny, it's very much about taking a leap and believing in the future, which is the sort of trajectory they're choosing for each other at the end of this chapter. tu nous entends l'amour, tu nous entends? Si tu nous entends, il faut qu'tu reviennes parce qu'on est prêts maintenant, ca y est. on a déconné c'est vrai mais depuis on a compris, et là, on a les paumes ouvertes avec notre coeur dedans, il faut qu'tu l'prennes et qu'tu l'emmènes 🥹

Que tout s'danse by Noé Preszow: this song is another of those songs that are incredibly important to castles and have really shaped the narrative of the fic. it basically says "you tell me anyone can dance through everything". it's a song about love and resilience and fucking up, and really was essential to the whole hinny arc in part 2. it has these lyrics about "i know it doesn't seem like it but i need to be laughed at, i need anonymous letters accusing me of all crimes" - to me it speaks to the very thesis of why harry chooses ginny: because she challenges him and makes him a better person. but, in my head, this song is also a war song, and a castles song. it's very linked to the trials arc of part 2, which also concludes in this chapter. in the song, the lyrics state: tu me dis que tout s'danse, même la gêne, même la haine, même l'errance. Que tout s'danse, la solitude, l'état de siège, l'état d'urgence. that last part, basically translating to "you can dance through anything, a siege or a state of emergency" is a direct reference to the state of emergency that was declared after the bataclan attacks in paris in 2016. as i've said before, i drew a lot of inspiration from the bataclan trials for castles, which were ongoing as i was writing, and from the bataclan attacks in general, which had a massive impact on my life and in part, motivated me to write castles. it's a gorgeous song, and one that has been in the playlist from the very start of this journey.

Friends (The Way I Wrote It) by Ian McConnell: i don't think i need to explain this one. it's the very last of the harry/mia song. it's cute and sad and weirdly perfect.

Paris by The Chainsmokers: i listened to this song a lot whilst writing chapter 15/16 and i couldn't help but feel like i had to include it somewhere. at first i was like "this has got to be mia related because it's paris," but ultimately, i think it's a very hinny-in-chapter-16 song. you'll see anyway that this whole chapter is pretty much one travel-related song after the other (lol), so here's the first one of many haha. i love the "let's show them we are better" and "if we go down, let's go down together" - it's very them and is also a good transition between 15 and 16.

Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls: i really struggled with this chapter regarding whether or not to include the muggle songs that are referenced in the text into the playlist. in the end, i decided not to, apart from this one and the Manu Chao one (see below). i don't think stuff like the real slim shady or wannabe or Dido are particularly relevant to this story, but this one is just so perfectly cliché and great for Ron & Hermione - i just had to include it.

Caravane by Raphaël: i know, i know. if you're french, you can't stand this song anymore cause it's been so overplayed, think: james blunt's you're beautiful. BUT it is a beautiful song. and, it's: harry and ginny leaving. being free. just the two of them. 🥹

Young as the Morning Old as the Sea by Passenger: i just love this song, it's gorge. but yeah, just another travel song in fairness ^^.

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman: so, funnily enough, this song was supposed to be a song harry and ginny danced to at the wedding. i took it out because all things considered, it's not a super hopeful song. but just now, i was looking for song to cover their first fight in misty village and like, idk. i love the metaphor in this, the way the first few pages of the trip (and the first few songs) are very happy-go-lucky and "yaay! we're going on an adventure" but then this one is like: is the adventure really a happy ending? it follows the hopeful beginning of this song and the more tragic end, almost. also this one and the previous one are very guitar-based, so they go well together.

Renegades by X Ambassadors: aaaaaand, they're back on the road lol.

The Seer's Tower by Jamie Cullum: this is a cover of a Sufjan Stevens song but Jamie Cullum's version fucking haunts me. i think it fits so well the low-key tension that exists between harry and ginny in that part of the chapter, around chicago and the midwest, where they're actually talking and making progress but also, everything's a bit complicated. i just adore this. and, obviously, the title of the song is a reference to Sear's Tower in chicago, which harry and ginny visit.

Bongo Bong by Manu Chao: aaaaaand, we're back on the road lol. with this quintessential european 90s song lol.

Sword from the Stone by Passenger: this is probably one of my top three passenger songs and the only "covid" song i can tolerate lol. i was sort of looking for a place for it in castles and then it hit me while making the playlist for this chapter. it's got that sort of desperation to it and that "i can't do it alone" and the ups and downs that are. very symptomatic of harry and ginny in this chapter. to me, this is really representative of the lead up to their final fight and of the fight itself.

It's Called: Freefall by Paris Paloma: this is a cover version which you probably already heard if you're on tiktok - it really inspired this chapter, and particularly the grand canyon moment.

What Is Love? by The Red Pill & Alan Watts: a bit the same as the above, i just love the text and it really symbolises that idea of taking a leap and believing in love for the two of them.

LETTRE A ZOÉ by Fauve: this is probably my favourite Fauve song and to me it so symbolises the vibe of the grand canyon aftermath, the very early, exciting stages of a reconciliation. it's such a beautiful song and i think it transitions wonderfully into the new "stage" of castles.

[vegalores]

Tom Cruise Challenge

1: First movie of his you remember seeing.

Interview With The Vampire 🧛🏻 it was around midnight or just before, in 1998 and I was seven years old. When my brother and I were younger, my Mum set up little pillow and blanket forts in the living room while she slept on the sofa. There was one night when I hadn’t gotten to sleep yet but I pretended I was so as to not alert her to the fact I ended up watching that movie with her while I lay there hiding my open eyes by facing the tv instead of where she sat on the sofa. My mum is a huge fan of Brad Pitt, so she was watching it for that reason. I recall being both equally terrified and infatuated with Lestat. I only informed her I had snuck a viewing of that movie about three years ago and she was highly entertained.

2: The last movie of his you watched.

Had a much needed rewatch of Rain Man about two hours ago because I was browsing our movie library and spotted it on the first page so just decided that would do just fine. I’ve not watched it for at least four years, but it’s a classic and a gorgeous story, if you’re in the right mood for it. I generally get pretty emotional and end up deep diving into my feels.

3: Which movie of his have you watched the most?

Probably a handful if not all of them, because I rewatch all of my favourites every now and then, so since my Tom adoration began, there’s been a shitload of rewatches. I’d estimate that the ones I lean more toward for repeated viewings are Mission Impossible II, Interview With The Vampire, War Of The Worlds, Top Gun, Cocktail, Jerry Maguire, Jack Reacher and Vanilla Sky. They tend to fall into the most loved and appreciated of his movies, but I do cycle through a whole bunch of them.

4: Favorite Movie

Interview With The Vampire, hands down. As far as horror is concerned, it’s that one. Second place is Mission Impossible II and that never changes to be fair.

5: Least Favorite Movie

There are a handful I don’t really care for, including Edge Of Tomorrow, Tropic Thunder, Collateral. I just don’t find myself enjoying them very much when I watch them.

6: Favorite Character

Lestat, of course. I’m so attached to this character because of that first viewing at the impressionable age of seven. It began my lifelong appreciation of Cruise and has held strong over all the years. The light has never dimmed with that one.

7: Least Favorite Character

Les Grossman, naturally. I don’t know.. just don’t enjoy that movie or that character at all. Another one would probably be Nick Morton, mainly cause I couldn’t get into those movies at all, though I did try a number of times.

8: Underrated Movie

Far And Away 👌 also Legend, The Colour Of Money, Days Of Thunder and American Made! I wanna see way more love for all of those movies because I absolutely love them to bits.

9: Most Overrated Movie

Interview is possibly overrated? and so is Top Gun? as far as that term goes anyway, but I do not list them with distaste lol cause I really love those movies. I’m just assuming what other people would consider the most overrated.

10: Favorite Haircut

I have always loved his shoulder length ( or just above ) hair so that will always be my favourite of his styles. Thinking along the lines of his Mission Impossible II haircut and also how it is in Rain Man; both very lovely hairstyles.

11: Least Favorite Haircut

Anything that’s like super short really, like Mission Impossible, the very first one, or Jack Reacher. I think he looks better with his hair at least a little longer than that.

12: Which Movie would you like to see a sequel to?

Most of his movies that don’t have sequels, which is a lot. I want sequels to all of them because I love his characters so much. I would have loved more Chronicles movies so we could get more of his Lestat. I also would have loved a sequel to Far And Away so we could see their lives together <3 Vanilla Sky is one that also desperately needs a sequel. I also really want a Rain Man sequel and maybe also Cocktail.

13: Favorite line from one of his movies

“ You complete me. ” Rain Man

“ Don’t call me son. I’m a lawyer and an officer in the United States Navy, and you’re under arrest, you son of a bitch. ” A Few Good Men

“ Everything ends badly, otherwise it wouldn’t end. ” Cocktail

“ Don’t be afraid. I’m going to give you the choice I never had. ” Interview With The Vampire

14: Favorite scene from one of his movies

15: Favorite Mission Impossible movie

The second one! I know 99% of people hate that one the most, but it is and always has been my ansolute favourite out of the lot of them. Even as further movies for that franchise have been made, it has remained the best to me.

16: Favorite stunt

Most of his stunts for the Mission franchise! especially the one in which he is flinging himself around a rock face in number II and also his climb of the Burj Khalifa in Ghost Protocol.

17: Favorite run

All of them 🤣 they are all uniquely special. I like the run he did in Vanilla Sky a lot, though. That’s probably the best of them.

18: Which Character did you relate to the most?

Erm, probably either Jack from Legend or Joseph from Far & Away, cause I don’t think I relate to his others all that much.

19: Which Character (from books, comics etc. or a possible remake) would you love to see Tom play?

I just want to see him keep playing Lestat 😭 but I know that is not the question, lol. I’d like to see him as Heathcliff cause after Lestat, Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights is my second favourite character in literature, so definitely him.

20: If you could only watch one film of his for the rest of time, which would it be and why?

That would be a tie between my top two, so either Interview or the second Mission movie. Both for very different reasons. I’m probably gonna have to choose just one and pick Interview 😅 for the purpose of the question, but still.

21: A director you would like to see him work with.

James Cameron or Tim Burton! two of my favourites, but also would like to see him work with Spielberg again.

22: A scene where "he does that thing with his face that makes you die inside" the most

23: A sleeper hit. A movie that on the first watch you only thought of as okay, but over time it's become a favorite.

Most likely, for me, that would be Days Of Thunder. I’d never been a car girly until the first Fast movie came out, so getting into Days Of Thunder back in the day was a hard one. The one thing that helped massively, beside Tom of course, was the fact that Zimmer did the score. I absolutely loveee Zimmer. I do now very much enjoy that movie and can appreciate things a lot more.

24: Out of the three films in which he was nominated for an Oscar (Born on the 4th of July, Jerry Maguire, and Magnolia), which one SHOULD have won him the trophy and why.

See now, each of those movies is fantastic in its own way, so that’s quite hard because the performances he gave in each cannot be compared to one another. My favourite out of those movies is Jerry Maguire, but in terms of Oscars, I would say he should have gotten it for Frank TJ Mackey. While that movie is not focused entirely on that character and explores the lives of many others, Mackey had the biggest impact.

25: What's the performance that you think should have been nominated for an Oscar and why?

I wanna say Lestat so badly here. I think his take was spot on and the man did so much research and spent so much time in the books that he just embodied that character as a whole. He is the very reason I love that vampire so much and it is ‘cause of him that I even have a fascination with vampires in the first place. I have to give him credit where credit is due. Lestat is a character I think he portrayed beautifully and he did deserve a nomination for that role. Also, probably Daniel Kaffee? A Few Good Men is another fantastic performance for him.

26: Favorite 80s era Movie? Like besides Top Gun because that's obvious.

Cocktail! that gets the number one spot for this because omg younger me was obsessed with this movie and Brian. I still am but I’ve calmed down over the years, lol. That character is just perfection, in every sense of the word. I’m also still going back and forth on whether or not I’m gonna splurge and get myself a Cocktails and Dreams sign, though I don’t have a bar ✌️

27: Favorite co-star?

I really love him alongside Elisabeth Shue. I think they worked really well together. He was fantastic starring alongside Dustin Hoffman as well! and I also really like him working with Simon Pegg. They both work really well together, too.

28: Favorite fight scene? Like in everything counting M:l!

Mission Impossible II, that fight scene with the bikes will hold a special place in my heart forever. I really like his fight scenes in both Reacher movies as well, but especially the first movie and the scene where he ends up taking a bat to the back of his head and falls into the bathtub. So much is happening in that scene, it’s all over the place and so funny.

29: Actor you'd like to see him work with. (We know he's already been with everyone else ;))

My other favourites! lol. Tom is my all time favourite actor, so I would like to see him work with Johnny Depp, Gary Oldman, Leonardo Dicaprio. For the ladies, my three queens! Goldie Hawn, Emmy Rossum and Bryce Dallas Howard 🤗

30: Favorite TOM era in General?

Early 90’s to early 00’s seems to be my favourite so I’m gonna go with that cause it’s a pretty good range. I do love him in the 80’s and the 2010’s and onward, but anything between 1990 and 2006 at least, holds my heart the most.

[browneyeddevil]

You open the door. I stand there, looking normal, on a lime scooter, immediately explaining how I’m the kid from the back to the future movies and this is my hoverboard. I say: Trick or Treat!

What kind of fall traditions do Katniss and Peeta do? What kind of things do you reckon they do with the kids?

And as for a request: If you want to, a moodboard for Katniss and her fall aesthetic? Or a line from a current WIP!

OMG love ur intro lol - for a moment there I thought u were giving me the treat 😅. This is such a fun question too!

So I think a tradition that Katniss and Peeta would start as a couple would be harvesting their garden together, making elaborate meals with some of their produce, and inviting Haymitch to dinner. On cold stormy nights, they might share some mulled wine by the fireplace snacking on apple-cinamon-flavoured treats made by Peeta. Peeta would also love using the changing leaves for his art -either as a muse or to make short-lived collages for his love. (and of course, peeta gifting these to katniss makes her very flustered which he finds adorable). So, in return, when Katniss is hunting she looks out for leaves that she finds especially pretty to bring back and show him. (which in turn, shocks and flatters peeta to know end). Katniss, as she gets older, and more comfortable in the community and her hunting skills again also makes it a personal goal to track and bring down something big so that the whole district can have some meat to share in the colder darker evenings.

As for things they do as a family, I think K&P would just include the toast-babies in the traditions they already have. Like Katniss will take the kids to the woods to harvest some apples and then Peeta will use those apples to bake a cake or pie with the kiddies. I think the children would also love to play in the piles of leaves (swearing that it's their process of finding pretty-looking ones) and I think Peeta would also find fun art projects to do with them like pressing the leaves. Pumpkin soup would also be a must-have for the family.

I've never attempted making a mood board so it's not really my forte, however, I will treat you with a sentence (really a few, because I can't help myself) from my WIP: The Unlikely Coming of Age of Katniss Everdeen. (subject to change)

~~ "Katniss, stop," Prim says, interrupting me mid-sentence, "Just stop for a moment and consider that maybe, just maybe, he likes you and wanted to talk to you? And that's it. It's not any deeper than that and it doesn't have to be."

Huh. To be fair, I hadn't actually considered that; mainly because it's a ludicrous idea, if a nice one. ~~

Happy Halloween and thanks for the ask, friend :)

[heartlurch]

hey what brush do you use to draw in digital and traditional (if that doesn't bother you!💦)

No worries! I don't mind. :3 The answer isn't so interesting though ww

I just use the pencil tool in MS Paint & the binary tool in SAI 2. Default settings. Most of my art is done this way. I often sketch in MS Paint, and complete in SAI.

(a few examples)

I find it's easier to work within the simplicity of MS Paint, but I do like SAI's features, and sometimes I need the flexibility of pressure sensitivity to really chip away at my thoughts... I find myself relying on it more recently, as I got into JSHK. Human characters aren't actually my forte, and it takes many passes for me to get something legible... Trying to mimic Aida-sensei's ability to render clothes is also breakin' my back lol.

(just taking you behind the scenes :p)

Oh um ... Hm, I draw in my phone notes more often recently as well, so that's the only other variable at times. If you see something like this:

It's just me using the notes app on my samsung galaxy. I use it to jot down ideas for future me. Or... sometimes I'm just passing time. Nothing special about it, I would say, aside from the fact that it's more robust than the previous phone notes app I would draw on. I was fingerpainting back then, but now I have a stylus.

Edit: Wait I feel like an idiot for saying all this and literally posting a piece I made in CSP... SORRY!! My brain is small. That's what I use to animate as well!! !!! Sorry, I just use it once in a blue moon...

On CSP, the brush I like the most has been this one.

As for traditional, I use an assortment of things! It's a split between mundane art supplies (dollar store mechanical pencils, ball point pens, etc.) and some fancier stuff I've been gifted. Currently I have a set of prismas and a couple of ohuhus I use for commission work often. I also have some faber castell brush pens. I prefer inking pens with a flat tip, basically I disprefer fine points/microns etc. (I... um, have a bit of a harsh grip, so I'm prone to crushing them...) My traditional stuff varies a lot more so I'll just paste examples directly. For fun!

Mechanical pencil!

Sharpie!

Faber castells! (The greys are as well!)

Ball point pen and highlighters!

Crayons!

Woodless color pencil! (+inking pens, pencil...)

Ohuhu markers! (+pencil)

Prismas!

Overall, I like having an assortment of things to grab and mess around with, for different moods. I'll draw on any scrap of paper also (to the burden of my wife, who scans and edits ALL!!!! of my art, lol.) If you're at all seeking for a similar experience, I recommend playing with whatever odds and ends you got in your possession. It's not really a matter of skill... imo, cuz, I don't really feel as though I use anything very 'well', I just use it. Perhaps all equally sloppy, and for fun. Just have fun. ╮(╯▽╰)╭

[autobot-ratchet]

MTMTE 4-6 (plus Spotlight Trailcutter and Hoist)

MTMTE 4

oh hell yeah time for one of my favorite arcs in the whole story, it's Delphi time baybeeeeeeee

oh my god I forgot Red Alert and Swerve were roommates in early MTMTE lmfAO god poor Red Alert

aww man Pipes is sweet. Can't wait to get my heart broken all over again when he gets stomped lmAO

love Drift pretending to be brave like “would I even be here if the DJD scared me in the slightest” hard cut to Drift begging Ratchet to kill him before the DJD can get him

also love Drift slicing some poor dude into ribbons for the crime of shuffling unnervingly toward Pipes. But he's not nervous or anything, not on edge, perfectly calm

and Tailgate learns the truth of the war

damn, Cyclonus didn't have to do all that to Tailgate, I know he barely even felt that punch

Love Drift surrounding Ratchet with his swords, also love Ratchet holding Drift's arm down to keep him from attacking Pipes, god they're both so good, I fucking love Drift and I fucking love Ratchet

straight up if Drift wasn't such a show off with all his fancy moves and shit he wouldn't have gotten hit with the rust disease lmAO but he HAD to go vehicle mode to dodge Pipes's shuffling

eeeeeyyyyyy Fort Max is back

MTMTE 5

fuckin rip to those two rando decepticons

ooh get his ass First Aid

LOVE Ratchet changing into alt mode before Ambulon is even done begging him not to, guy's gotta do what he can to save his patients that's all there is to it

gdhfsghjl god it is so funny how often they trust what the autopedia says, Tailgate really just edited his own wiki page like “and he was super strong and smart and cool and the records show that his meat was huge and he was best friends with the president”

“predominantly organic universe,” interesting. I know we later see different kinds of mechanical beings but I didn't realize that there were significantly less kinds of mechanical races than organic, I figured they were closer to 50/50

slurps up all this foreshadowing

fuckin Pharma doing the “camera angle when an anime character is about to go insane” thing. God it is still so funny how fast he jumped headfirst into his joker arc. Also kinda sad if you think too hard about it, like he is so clearly not the villain type, he is so bad at it. But he must have felt so guilty that he truly believed there was no redemption that could save him, which is incredibly tragic, but also he is very difficult to take seriously when he says all this cartoon villain shit

“I'm miles from anyone I truly care about” fuckin liar lmAO

god. Still love that Drift is the one to stop Pharma from shooting Ratchet. How'd he even get up here. Who let him leave the medbay and shuffle his rusty ass all the way to the roof of this fucking building

Spotlight: Trailcutter

Teebs is also very sweet. Can't wait to get my heart broken all over again by him as well

“Brainstorm, Chromedome, and Highbrow- you're all heads, I just thought it was funny” a HEE HEE HOO

“I wish I was normal and I wish everyone would just shut up” fucking MOOD Teebs you are so valid

lol get owned, Lockdown

Rodimus really gave Hoist a gold-plated pin-up of himself. Not even his current self, that's his Hot Rod design

Spotlight: Hoist

I will never be able to see this panel with Hoist telling Swerve about the scanner scope without thinking of that edit someone did to make it say “See that, Swerve? That thing there?" “The internet?” “Do not trust the internet. The internet lies.”

gfdsjks Swerve just “um actually'd” Perceptor shut the hell up

I do like these little glimpses of characters that ultimately didn't get much screentime outside these spotlights, like it's so easy to forget that Sunstreaker was ever on the Lost Light bc he didn't get to do much before he was transferred back over to Barber's comic (it's been years since I've read those as well and I do not remember what the comic's name was at that point and I refuse to look it up)

damn I forgot how rude Swerve is in early MTMTE, he's just out here roasting people unprompted

oh it's bc he's deflecting the fact that he's dying lmfAO fuck forgot about that part

“I know it's neither the time nor the place but damn we look good” it is always the time and place Sunstreaker, you are so FUCKING valid

honestly? Love the idea of the phobia shield. Love that kind of mind-fuckery, would've loved to see it used on more characters lmAO

MTMTE 6

absolutely love the combo of Rung and Whirl being Fort Max's hostages, love how harsh Whirl is, gimme that CONFLICT

aw come on Max don't deadname Roddy like that

oooouuhhguhgh Whirl tells his backstory only when Rung's life is threatened *points at Whirl* haha you caaaaaaaare

god I love how fucked up the way they pacify Fort Max is. Honestly this whole issue is fucked up and I love it

Knowing that Drift is on Overlord duty, his talk about how Red Alert is snooping around too much hits different lmAO

[puppy-coded]

True Love{C.C.}

✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: small murder mention

✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Chrissy Cunningham x reader

✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 800 words

✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Chrissy confesses her undying love for you

✰ 𝐀/𝐍: This is just me wanting to date lol, this is what I want in a partner <3 also haven't written for chrissy in a while and wanted to complain abt dating also written while i was(mostly) in a bad mood lol

You entered your apartment and slammed the door. Gods you hated life.

Not even for a good reason... at least, that's what you've told yourself.

All you had was another thing on your list of "don't"s and another reason to hate dating. Why is trying to find true love so hard?

"What's wrong?" Chrissy asked from her spot on the couch, not looking up from her newest embroidery project.

"Nothing." You huffed, flopping on the couch next to her and crossing your arms.

"Our poor door frame says otherwise babes." She joked, finally looking at you sitting next to her. "What's wrong? I wanna help." She offered sincerely.

"Love is worthless." You complained, laying your head in Chrissy's lap dramatically.

"What?"

"I'm just mad about a bad date." You explained, turning onto your back to stare up at the pretty blonde. "She said she wasn't really looking for anything serious, which, fine but it's not what I'm looking for."

Chrissy smiled softly at you and stroked your cheek as she talked. "Well... What are you looking for?"

"True love."

"What?" She asked again, puzzled by your answer.

"I want someone to be my... soulmate." You said dreamily. "I know it sounds stupid but I want someone to love me. I want marriage. I want someone to wake up and tell me I'm beautiful even with my morning breath and frizzy hair. If true love doesn't exist then what hope do I have?" You rambled, getting more and more frantic with each word.

Chrissy rubbed her thumb across your cheek and spoke softly. "Hey, you need to calm down, okay?"

"I hate online dating. I want the meet-cutes. I want the coffee dates and... and the lazy library browses. I eventually want a family even! I want to find my soulmate but either they don't exist or mine's in fuckin' Iceland or some shit." You ranted angrily, sitting up abruptly in the middle of it and almost hitting Chrissy in the chin.

Chrissy looked worried for you but still sat to look at you. "I promise you, true love exists. You'll find 'the one' someday. Just breathe alright?" She asked. "I need you to calm down. For me please?" She practically begged.

"But like," You started again after a deep breath. "I've only been rejected by two people. What if there's more. What if, one day, it's too much? What- What if my heart can't take it after the millionth rejection?" You asked, tilting your head back against the couch so you don't cry in front of Chrissy.

"Well, I think if you maybe looked in front of you then you'd find what you were looking for." Chrissy mumbled, picking up her embroidery again. She had an angry expression and was stabbing at her project like it had murdered her family.

"What are you even talking about?" You asked, looking at her like she'd gone crazy.

She sighed and shook her head, staring at the pink flowers she was working on. "You ever notice the little things?"

"That... you do for... me?" You asked slowly, hoping you'd guess correctly. But really, you'd watched enough rom-coms to be hopeful.

"Yeah. Like how I learned to make your favorite coffee. Or how I randomly bring home fancy books for you, or flowers on really bad days. Or that one time when it rained and we watched movies in a blanket fort because we both knew if it stormed you'd freak out. I even know your favorite candy are M&Ms." She listed with a small, humorless chuckle. "I'm into you. Hell, I think I'm in love with you. I want you to be my soulmate." She admitted, looking into your eyes at the last part.

You blinked, shocked by Chrissy's admission. "Really?"

"Really." She sniffed. "I'll always be with you. Tell you you're beautiful every day. Quench every craving. Give you everything you could ever want because I'm in love with you Angel." Chrissy smiled tearfully as she grabbed your hands. "I just never... verbalized it before. I was still trying to tell myself this was a friend crush." She said before letting go of your hands and putting her own in her lap.

"I... I think I know why I haven't clicked with anyone Chris."

"Why?"

You stared at her as realization dawned on you. "Because I think I was secretly hoping they'd all... be like you."

[purekesseltrash]

Hi! I'm that one person on ao3 who was like. Utterly obsessed w Bury Them Deep, and I was wondering if you have any thoughts you'd like to share on the playing styles of any of the other characters? Especially the women, but really anyone, I just find it really neat

Oh my goddddd, yes yes yes please because I have thought so much about this shit.

Momo: an absolutely incredible goalie positionally. You could put her in textbooks on how to hold yourself. Her pushes are perfection, like she's just floating on the ice. Her glove hand is wonderful too, as is her stick handling and she has great height. But her best asset, and also worst one, is absolutely her mind. When she is calm and confident, she's an analytical God. The problem is with her tendency to overthink. Too many bad goals or even just unlucky ones and she has to be pulled because it's just gonna get rough. It's one thing that she really admires about Mezou because he can just shrug it off.

Urakara: The ballsiest defenseman you have ever seen. She played exclusively with boys for years and you can tell because if she's going to get a penalty, it will be for playing too rough. She has really excellent vision for the game however and plays a long game that even Bakugou has grudgingly admitted is admirable. They've had some scrimmages where she's actually out played him and after the first time, everyone expected him to blow up but he was like 'good game'. She's not the best skater and her speed isn't fantastic but its the hockey iq that keeps her where she's at, knowing when and where to pinch and where the game is going. She also has a pretty gnarly snapshot and a fantastic PP QB.

Mina: Mina is a skating god. Seriously, she will break your ankles and you won't have any idea until she's long gone. She was a figure skater until she got suuuuuper bored by it and talked her way onto a team, only to end up being super good at it. She's a right winger with a nice little wrister and is great on the foreheck but uuuuuuh, backchecking isn't her forte. That being said, she actually isn't terrible on the PK, especially since that means chances at short handed goals and boy do you not want to let her try.

Hagakure: You know those players that you tend to forget about? They don't really do anything especially interesting so when they do score, you're like 'oh! Holy shit! They're on the team!'? Thats Hagakure. Definitely a grinder queen, doing all the little shit that makes everyone on the team *love* her but that makes her seem totally unremarkable unless you're looking for it. A Chris Kunitz type, if that makes any sense. Always the first on the backcheck, has an awesome +/-, fantastic defensive forward, but unremarkable. She's also locker room gold because she WILL break any shitty moods up.

That's all the girls. I could also bring up Shouta and Hizashi.

Shouta: Positionally pretty good, pretty good reflexes though really nothing spectacular. His biggest handicap has always been his height, which is only short for goalies, and his lack of the superhuman athletic ability that most pro hockey players have. The thing that got him as far as he did was his hockey iq and specifically, how he could look at the ice and read plays. The ECHL and even the AHL were rough for him because the play was so much more chaotic but the few times that he got to play in the NHL were incredible. Because he could see it, he could read all of it and it all made sense. His body just couldn't hang.

Hizashi: I based him off of a combo of Beau Bennett and Tyler Seguin. I even gave him Beau's number, 19, and it was partially due to Beau's nickname of Sunshine and me liking how that matched with the meaning of the name 'Hizashi'. I also thought it was pretty apt given Beau's talent and promise but how his body just could not stay healthy enough to do the things that you could tell he wanted to do.

Oboro: He was a pond hockey player and was proud of it, lol. Put him on defense or have him play as a forward, he didn’t really care. He saw pretty early on how the hockey world just kinda sucked and was like 'nah, I'm good'.

If you have any more questions, I can not stress how delighted I would be to answer them.

[fiapartridge]

Daisy wakes up in a horrible mood, and Will sends her messages periodically just to check in on her

omg yes if will's away and can't physically be with her, he'll be sending messages throughout the day to make sure she's okay

will: rise and shine, baby!!!!!!

daisy: morning

will: you okay???

daisy: no, the coffee machine is broken. and i have an 8 am class today and then i have ballet practice later and drew is making me help him study for his history of sports class because he said i "owe him one" for the time i bailed on getting ice cream with him. so no. i'm not ok.

will: wish i was there, i could've beaten fortescue's ass for you :(

daisy: eh, i could do that on my own

will: 100%

daisy's typing...

will: sorry, my mom is going batshit because my sister lost her lv bag. i'll text you after (tell u if my sister made it out alive lol). i love you, baby ❤️

daisy: i love you! tell grace i wish her luck

will: and me???

daisy: she's not mad at u stupid and plus i like gracie more than u 😇

will: i hate you

daisy: i love you

will: gotta go before the screaming starts i'll text you later, pretty girl

will: i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you

-> 1 hour later

will: hi, baby grace made it out alive sadly :(

will: hope your 8 am wasn't too terrible. you know i hate that old woman's voice she sounds like my great aunt. you know the one with the nasaly voice she really needs to get that thing checked up

will: anyway i love you hope you're okay

daisy: wait my professor??? LOL she's so sweet don't bully her

daisy: and i'm okay. thank u for checking in my love

will: always, baby

-> 30 minutes later

will: hope you didn't kill drew

daisy: will she has me trapped help help help she's gonna kill me SOSOSOSOSOSOS call 911!!!

will: drew give the phone back to daisy and stop harassing her

daisy: hey, i'm not harassing her

will: so how'd you get her phone

daisy: definitely not by jumping her

daisy: he jumped me. that bitch fucking jumped me

will: LMAO DONT KILL HIM WE HAVE A GAME IN 2 DAYS

daisy: don't worry i wont hurt your precious dman

will: thank you love

daisy: but i didn't promise a quick death - he wouldn't feel it... so technically i'm not hurting him???

will: okay i'll help you hide the body when i come back i think there's space in the freezer he's a tiny guy

daisy: he's taller than u willy

will: okay but he's lanky if he gets chopped up those bits and pieces are smalllll

daisy: shit ur right

daisy: you guys are fucking lunatics YOURE GONNA KILL ME AND CHOP ME UP AND PUT ME IN THE FREEZER HUH???

will: stop jumping daisy

daisy: you guys need to stop watching crime docs together

will: yeah yeah give daisy back to me, farts

daisy: forts**** autocorrect i assume

will: nope shit stinks

daisy: hi i missed you

daisy: drew threw my textbook down the stairs and made a run for with my phone so 😀 not much studying

will: i'm coming back today & i'm ready to beat his ass ❤️

daisy: love you gotta go before he starts swinging on me

will: i love you more like a million times more like you're going to get sick of me soon that's how much i love you dais

daisy: not possible <3

-> later in the day - after dinner time

will: how was ballet practice misty

will: hope drew didn't sustain any major injuries

will: also hope your day got better

will: i wish i was there. i miss you so much. all i want to do is kiss you sweet girl

daisy: i love you so much

daisy: practice was good, started the swan lake dance choreo which was so fun but so exhausting my eyes are literally struggling to stay open

daisy: ur almost home and u can come straight to my arms

daisy: i'm sleeping in ur room tonight because drew wanted to cram in some actual studying. he's really worried about his midterm

will: coach says if he doesn't pass the class he can't play against harvard on tuesday

daisy: ouch. i think he'll do fine he's just scared. he knows everything it's just the anxiety that's eating him up

will: hows yours today

daisy: my what

will: anxiety. are you okay? do you need anything? i'm on my way back i can grab you those chips you really like

daisy: i'm okay, my love. your texts kept me from going crazy today haha

daisy: i can't wait to see you. don't wake me when u get home tn. i just wanna be happy to see you in the morning

will: i love you, sweet girl. almost there

daisy: see you in the morning ❤️ i love you

[nickfoo]

Part 1 of a 2 part character thoughts dump I’ve been letting my brain run with while I wait for the train this past week. Separated for two different characters from two different anime/manga. Still both on my favorites shelf. This one is for Bege and Chiffon. Shortened for your dash convenience. 

First, Bege and Chiffon. These two I adore them, they are so gosh darn good. And they're canon! Oda says hes no good at romance and then there's these two! If you know what I am by now, I love pairings where the couples are opposites to the point they look like people who you'd never even think would get together when you stand them next to each other. Bege is a gruff, middle-aged, stone-cold, calculating mafia boss. Sanji described him as such almost word for word when he and Luffy went to meet him in the Whole Cake Arc. He doesn't have any fronts - what you see is what you get. He dresses to the nines, shines his shoes and enjoys finer classy material things. But he's got the look of a street thug smoking his cigar with his dead-eyes and constant scowl. In the Japanese anime of One Piece, if you listen to the way he talks, he speaks in the Kansai-dialect which is known for the 'Yazkua dialect.' Makes sense as he’s a mafia boss. As a friend who's studied the language far more than I has told me, its a basic: 'tough-guy accent.' It’s rough sounding, he rolls his 'R's and while he speaks well, he uses the rude slang terms almost all the time. Then you have Chiffon. A daughter to an empress, shes royalty. She inherited her mother's pink hair and size- she's big at 7ft tall! She dresses modestly, bows in her hair and attire. She is patient and kind-hearted but we see shes made of steel. She has to be! Shes big mom's daughter! Living in Big Mom's family is a survival test when Big Mom herself is a force of destruction prone to mood swings that can involve her taking the life of her own kids. Bege's crew fears and respects Chiffon and she has as much authority in his crew as Bege himself. ( Possibly more lol )

So that these two would get set up in an arranged marriage and then genuinely fall in love with each other?? And its so vital the effect Chiffon has had on someone like Bege. Before that 2 yr skip, Bege was shown to be a man who cared only for himself and his own violent amusement. He maimed his own crew members for questioning him and they were little more than pawns on his chess board to do with as he saw fit. Later, Jinbei tells us how much of a bag guy Bege really was. As a young man he cut the heads off animals for his own amusement to watch their bodies squirm and die. When he got older and started really working for the mob, he had the same idea to do it to rival bosses. So Bege worked his way up to being a boss himself, gained trust of other families and previous bosses he worked for and then for no other reason than 'it was fun to watch', he went after these other families. He killed the boss and only the boss. He never took their territory or titles, only money and goods and left. Then he'd sit back and watch these other mafia families eat each other from the inside out in power struggles to replace their boss. Bege made his empire and name out of betrayal and blood. He went out to sea because he was bored of his dominance in the underworld of the West Blue. So that a man like that would be humanized by a woman like Chiffon after 2 years?? After that 2 year skip when we meet Bege again, he's changed. He's a father and husband now. He now cares for and greatly values his crew, to the point he declared he'd refuse to stand by and do nothing rather than let his 'precious subordinates' die. He was able to level with the StrawHats ( even if it was at his wife's request ) and didn't stab them in the back ( his forte ) even when it would have improved his own crew's chances of survival in the thick of things. Chiffon managed to teach this sociopath basic empathy. Bege tries to do better for his wife! There's points where he shadows his previous nature like when he has a dark chuckle about killing Luffy right there instead while he's got him pinned rather than letting Luffy become a problem later, or when out of malicious intent, he mauls over dragging the Strawhats to their deaths down with him when his plan fails. But he doesn't! Don't get me wrong, even after the 2 year skip, Bege is far from a saint. He still kills for fun and revels in blood and violence. He was clearly having a good time being a sadist as he torments Sanji, Nami, Brook, Chopper and Ceasar in his castle. He’s still a bad guy. But as good mafia credo instates - he takes care of his own. He clearly cares for his crew now and adores his wife and child. There's also the way he and Chiffon have rubbed off on each other. Chiffon speaks with the fairly standard polite dialect, using 'watashi' to refer to herself. But when I showed a scene to my friend who, as I mentioned before, studies Japanese, the first thing he pointed out was: "I really like how she calls him 'Anta.' In Japanese, a wife will usually call their husband 'Anata.' 'Anta' is the much more impolite and personal way of doing so. This not only shows how close they are, but Chiffon possibly trying to imitate Bege's rough-gangster way of talking. And I want to absolutely fucking yell about how Oda hid this all in plain sight with Bege's devil fruit!! He's a castle-man! He is the walls of the fortress - what good is an empty castle when it has no one to defend? Bege was always meant to be a protector.

I relate them both to Vimes and Sybil from Discworld sometimes. Yes, I'm currently reading the Night Watch series of Discworld, so I can pick out the comparisons in my mind easily. A gruff, short, older man who smokes cigars, adores his wife and would do anything for her, a total wife guy, and is trying to do better by his wife by containing his violent urges? A large woman who is from royalty, kind hearted and noble, adores her husband, but tough as nails and clearly wears the pants in the relationship? I mean...c'maaan. It's there. (Granted Vimes being a copper is very different from Bege's piracy, but they were both in a gang at one time and grew up on the streets. )

[lilflowerpot]

I'm like a bloodhound that seeks worldbuilding fuel and worldbuilding fuel only— one time I was like “...the fuck is a matriarch tree” and then hours later came back out the other end, head buzzing with mycorrhizal fungi and plants that apparently have eyes. Or I'd sink so many hours just listening to YouTube videos about various mythologies (OSP in particular is a favourite haunt of mine)— I just can't help it. No wonder I zeroed in on you from the first post I saw, lol. I still can't remember what that post was about but eh.

I commend you so much for being so meticulous with the science stuff despite it not being your forte! I try sometimes but... I get lost in all the words and it's hard to focus because my brain would much rather be munching on history or something. How do you get yourself to focus??

I absolutely relate to you about thinking too much about your AU and fleshing it out a lot, I think it's impossible to be normal about your passion projects! That's just how creators are.

Fun fact, I was also the person who sent in the ask about whether the Archivist can also be the Imperial Consort! I'm gonna have a field day with LB, I can tell.

A question for you, what would be the procedure if a Galra were to pass away faraway from home in space, faraway from a planet, would their remains be preserved to be brought home and then the traditional procedures can happen? Or would the act of holding off a Galra's reunion with Sa by holding off the funeral be considered rude? Daibazaal (the home planet of the Galra) is gone, right? What are the current practices for the folk that live on the ships?

And oho, a new culture/science post coming up??? 👀👀👀👀👀 I'll definitely be looking forward to that!

— I probably need a signature of some kind, don't I

[1][2]

anon this is SUCH a mood actually

As to how I get myself to focus, I'm truly flattered that you think I have control over such a thing, but the truth of the matter is I just chase the intense serotonin high of whatever task is presently delivering it until that is no longer the case, and then I move on to the Next Fascinating Thing......... y'know, like a neurotypical person.

((this is a good part of the reason why some asks remain unanswered for a greater period of time than others, because I physically cannot force myself to craft a proper response to anything until my horrible little goblin brain deems it shiny enough))

The archivist/consort post was also you???? Damn, okay, you've really been single-handedly fueling my worldbuilding as of late haven't you asdvsvcdghsvdfk your contributions are all very much appreciated ♡

So as I said in my post on galra funeral rites, the only phenotype that culturally favours burials over cremation are the Dox, due to their major religion—Eiyyka’an—dictating that just as the jungles in which they historically made their home provided for their people in life, so should they, in exchange, provide for those jungles in death. Of course, Daibazaal is no more and the Empire extends far beyond the confines of a single planet besides, but the ultimate site wherein their body will be laid to rest is usually one of three places. The most traditional is Feyiv, as for the modern galra this has been their official homeworld for (according to my calculations regarding galra lifespans) over sixty generations, and this choice is particularly popular for aristocratic families who boast a personal plot of land that has been cultivated with the flesh of their ancestors; the most common is whichever alternative imperial planet they personally grew up on, as that would be considered the planet that they predominantly owe their flesh to as the place that sustained them in life; the least common (but not unheard of) option is one only really taken by those who spent more time in artificial colonies than not, which is to be buried in the greenhouse of said artificial colony to provide nutrients for the fresh produce.

This last one, as I'm sure you can imagine, is controversial in some circles—particularly for the Jaev who believe that the body must be delivered to Sa's embrace whole for the deceased to have any chance of triumphing in what is considered to be their final battle, thereby proving themselves as worthy of being revived as one of Her chosen—so it is of course required for Imperial colonies to make note of whether any given food (be that plant or animal) has been cultivated on galra burial sites.

This brings us neatly on to the Jaevaji Faith as the major Aalk religion, the followers of which embalm their dead by slathering them with a special clay that is then engraved with the deceased's greatest deeds, before traditionally lowering them into one of Daibazaal's great lakes of magma. Again, with Daibazaal being long gone, one could use any volcano in an Imperial territory of their choosing, usually one with some significance or tie to the family, and though this may draw out the death rites of a given individual depending on how far away they are from one of these locations, the embalming process (with a little help from a cryopod if required) does an excellent job of preserving the body for as long as is necessary. The most popular alternative, however, is simply launching the prepared body directly into the closest star, as while it's less traditional, the general feeling is that if their ancestors had this option available to them, they would have thoroughly endorsed it.

Finally, the most widespread method of disposing of the dead as popularised by both the Byal & Kyx: cremation. All imperial territories, artificial or otherwise, will have a crematorium in the vicinity—the profession itself is a highly respectable one—though these can vary from the more traditional funeral pyre, to that with which humanity is more familiar. After the body is reduced to ash, where the family chooses to disperse them is incredibly personal, and while many choose to return to Feyiv, or another Imperial planet if they deem that their home, it is equally common to simply scatter their loved one's remains out amongst the stars.