#they’re so insane for this at the beginning of book 3

[moghedien]

Verin: ok girls now tell the Whitecloak you’re sorry for trying to blow him up

Nynaeve: no I’m not sorry

Elayne: technically we don’t have to apologize because we didn’t actually try to blow him up, just all of the ground around him and his horse so technically it wasn’t him in danger so technically we didn’t even break the three oaths and legally speaking we did nothing wrong

Egwene: *visibly in the middle of a PTSD dissociative episode* haha sorry my bad

[ellecdc]

may i pretty please request more potter!reader x barty 🤲 whatever you feel like darling, though if you need ideas i think i’d be hilarious if james insists on joining reader to the slytherin common room bc he “doesn’t trust” barty and then him just being extremely uncomfortable while the slytherin skittles are their usual chaotic selves

ooooh Barty & our potter!reader. thanks for your request! <3

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who should date a nice Slytherin like Evan [644 words]

CW: summoning demons as a pass time, Slytherin skittle nonsense, James is way in over his head

“He did what!?” James beseeched as he and Regulus sat down in the Slytherin common room across from you. 

Regulus smirked as he shot you a knowing look. “He released a malevolent poltergeist that was restricted to the haunted hall of the dungeons into Central Hall. Dumbledore and Filch are currently trying to negotiate with it in hopes to get it to return to its designated section of the castle.” 

“A poltergeist worse than Peeves!?” James asked, causing Regulus to cock his head at him.

“You consider Peeves malevolent?”

James blinked at his boyfriend. “Well…I wouldn’t exactly consider him …volent…” 

“Salazar.” Regulus muttered under his breath as he pulled out a book. “Yes, Jamie, worse than Peeves.”

“Bug!” James exclaimed, turning his comically wide eyes (only magnified by the thickness of his glasses) towards your casually curled up form.

“Yeah?” You asked nonplussed as you turned a page in this week's Witch Weekly. 

“What on earth did Junior do!?” 

You looked up at your brother with a look mixed with concern and confusion. “Erm…well, as Regulus just said, he released a-”

“I heard what Regulus said!” James barked as Barty and Evan entered the room; Evan moving to sit politely in a wingback chair whilst Barty languidly rolled over the back of the sofa you were sitting on and laid his body atop yours, which you readily accepted by lifting your arms with your magazine over his head so he could rest his head against your chest. 

“Oh, are we talking about Donny?” Barty asked casually, though he kept his face shoved in the junction of your neck. 

“‘Donny’?” Regulus snickered as James looked at him in horror.

“You named a poltergeist Donny?!” 

“I didn’t name the poltergeist Donny, Potter.” Barty sneered. “It’s a nickname; it’s short for Abaddon.” 

James let out a desperate, disbelieving sound as he turned his attention to you. “Bug, listen; out of all the Slytherin’s, really? Junior? Don’t get me wrong, I get the appeal, really, I do; but why couldn’t you have picked a nice Slytherin, like Evan?”

His question was answered with a snort from his own boyfriend. “Well which is it, James? Do you want her to date a nice Slytherin, or do you want her to date Evan?” 

“Careful what you wish for, there, Potter.” Evan jeered from his seat. 

“You’ve not got a leg to stand on here, Jamie.” You replied simply. “Not only are you and your lot responsible for the sodding squid in the Black Lake, but your own boyfriend is the one who summoned Donny to begin with.” 

“You what!?” 

“Yeah!” Barty chimed in. “I only released him from the dungeons, Regulus is the one who invited him here to begin with!” 

“Why would you do such a thing!?”

Regulus simply shrugged his shoulders. “Evan bet me ten galleons I couldn’t do it.”

“And why would you do that!?” James directed to Evan who also shrugged his shoulders.

“I was bored.” 

“Merlin’s tits.” James whispered in horror as he stared at the floor unseeingly. “They’re sodding mad…”

“Ha ha.” Barty taunted. “You’re in love with the criminally insane.” 

You simply snorted and offered Barty a chaste peck on the lips before he once again rested his cheek on your chest. “Surprised it took you this long to notice, James.” 

“They’ve not exactly been subtle.” Evan added. 

“What are you saying, Evan?” Barty tried to bark, though the way his face was basically shoved into the fabric of your jumper seriously diminished any severity he tried to imbue. “Subtle is my middle name.” 

“That’d make your initials B.S.” Evan continued, causing Regulus to snicker.

Barty hummed in thought. “No, nevermind. I prefer B.J, thanks.”

“Don’t we all.” Regulus added salaciously, and you nearly choked at the abashed look that took over your brother’s face.

“Welcome to the snake pit, Jamie.”

[alexiroflife]

"five more minutes?"

part 2.

college au, grungy!choso, fluffff, beginnings of mutual pining

choso kamo x writing tutor!reader

Synopsis: your last tutoring session of the day catches you off guard when the hottest guy you've ever seen in your life walks into the writing center

to sum it up: you and choso didn't expect to enjoy each other's company so much and your giddy awkwardness shows it

WC: 3,700

Warning(s): none, just you and choso being cute as hell

-> guys i am speechless thank you so much for +2,000 followers y'all are amazing i love you so much

You, in truth, never wanted to be a writing tutor.

Your English professor had recommended you to do so, seeing that you had a tendency to excel in your creative and academic writing courses. Your major in english and the years prior you spent scribbling away the fantasies of your mind in middle and high school certainly were to commend for you exceptional writing skills now, but you find that any time you’re actually forced to put pen to paper instead of doing so on your own will dulls the experience entirely. 

You can’t necessarily complain too much because you are getting paid (certainly not enough as a junior in university), but you don’t exactly enjoy the tediousness of having to sit down with freshmen who are crawling their way through their introductory writing courses, fighting to keep their engagement as they try to rush you through your hour and a half appointment- despite how badly they need it.

Writing is an art, and should be treated as such, but god, the way the intro courses are treating it and how the students treat it accordingly truly hurts your soul. Especially because they’re required classes, and people never fare well in classes they’re forced to take. You have first hand experience with that.

You’re almost done for the day when you double check your schedule to see that you have one more slot filled before you can call it a day.

Sighing, you lean back in your desk chair and click on the profile of the boy you’re meant to be meeting with. Apparently he’s in a grade above you working on a seminar. You raise your brow, curiosity striking you. You don’t typically find many upperclassmen coming to your services since they normally already have the writing training that they need and have been crafting enough essays to get the hang of things, or are simply too lazy to be bothered with visiting the writing center.

You don’t have much time to ponder it before there’s a knock on your office door frame, signifying the arrival of the person you are to be mentoring. You look up, and the breath almost flies from your lungs when you see a tall brunette clad in heavy, dark cargo pants, a tattered band tee, and a puffy jacket. His heavily lined, violet eyes meet yours tiredly, though after a few moments, a sprinkle of light flickers its way into his irises upon registering the sight of you. 

“I’m… uh, here for my 3:30?” his remarkably deep voice mumbles out as he stares at you pensively, ringed fingers clutching the strap of his beaten satchel book bag. “You’re (Y/n)?”

You blink. “Oh, y-yeah. Sorry,” you clear your throat, hastily throwing on a friendly smile. “Come in. You can take a seat right here.”

You gesture to the chair before you at your desk, and he approaches, slinging his bag from his shoulder to the floor and seating himself in the cushioned seat. 

You scroll through your computer mindlessly to relocate his profile and exactly what he is here for, but you can’t deny the fact that your mind is immensely distracted by the presence of the man sitting in front of you. You can feel his pretty eyes wandering over the room, bouncing over you then to his lap. You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from practically screaming, for this kid is insanely attractive in a grungy, silent loner kind of way, and you’re unsure of how you’ll even be able to focus throughout the session.

“It’s Choso, right?” you ask, turning from your monitor to meet his diamond eyes.

He nods, pressing his lips together. “Yeah.”

“Okay, cool. Nice to meet you. Why don’t you walk me a bit through what you need help with?”

He releases a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his head and averting his gaze. “I don’t know, my senior sem professor said I needed to work on my paragraph structure for the essay part of the project,” he explains almost disinterestedly. “I don’t really know what she means, so I figured I’d just come here.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Do you have a draft that you can show me?”

Choso reluctantly nods once more, leaning over to collect his bag and pull out a thin stack of papers. He gathers them in his hands and as if embarrassed, slides them across the wood table toward you. You take it from him and briefly skim over the words, the title catching your eye.

“You’re a bio major?” you ask, interest piqued.

“…Um, yeah. I’m writing about blood coagulation… it’s kinda boring stuff I guess.”

“No way, I think that’s sick,” you say casually, flipping through the other pages. “I could never begin to understand that stuff.”

You miss the way Choso’s gaze lingers on your face in momentary, subtle surprise. Your eyes fly up from the page to him again, and he immediately looks away. 

You place the papers back down. “I can kinda see what your professor means just by first glance,” you tell him, reaching over to grab a red pen from your pencil holder.

“That fast?” Choso asks, raising a brow.

You chuckle slightly. “I mean, I didn’t get to see everything obviously. I was just browsing, but I do this a lot. I notice you tend to jump from one thing to another without a solid transition.”

“Oh.”

“That’s okay, though. And was it just paragraph structure…? Was there anything else you specifically wanted to look at?”

He shrugs stiffly. “I don’t really know,” he admits. “I’m… less of a writer and more of a researcher. I don’t really- I’m not too good with this kind of stuff in general. I just do the work.”

“That’s no problem. You’ve got the important parts down,” you assure him. “Here, why don’t we move to the center next door? It’ll be easier for me to help you with your paper when I’m next to you instead of sitting across.”

“Sure.”

You believe that you have sabotaged yourself in suggesting so, though moving to a less cramped room is something you always do with your clients. Even so, the second you and Choso seat yourselves beside each other at a rounded table in the next room, with another appointment taking place across the room and rather distant from you, his scent of woody cologne consumes your senses the moment his breeze blows past you with his settlement into his chair. 

Your eyes go slightly wide, his arm inches away from brushing yours when he throws his bag over the back of the chair. While he pulls out his computer and gets his papers and notes situated, you sneak a glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He beholds the facial structure of a model, a rather bored, tired energy capturing his eyes but emphasizing his beauty nonetheless. His hair, you think, is styled uniquely into two ponytails, but it somehow complements his aura perfectly. Tendrils of chocolate brown sweep over his forehead and behind his ear, and that is when you catch a peak of a tattoo creeping up his neck from behind his jacket collar. 

This guy is too gorgeous for his own good. Part of you doesn’t believe that he is aware of his beauty himself, for he carries himself as though he wishes not to be seen, or more accurately, hardly pays any attention or care to how he is perceived by the surrounding world. He’s reserved, calm, and oh, the way his Adam's apple bops when he clears his throat softly is criminal.

You’re prepared to ask him about his tattoo when you recall that you are supposed to be maintaining a professional, yet amiable environment. To make it obvious that he’s captured your attention and then some would interfere with the entire purpose of his appointment, which he scheduled for academic assistance with you, a tutor. 

You immediately avert your gaze when reality smacks you in the face and you shift your focus back to his paper, sliding it under your palm and ripping the cap of your pen rather harshly. Just as you turn away, Choso finds himself peering over at you, but far less sneakily. 

He had come here expecting to despise the entire process, for his pride is slightly wounded that he even has to visit a writing tutor, but he refuses to allow his lacking skill in essay craft to debunk his grade in something he is so passionate about, and something that he desperately needs to graduate. Besides, he has come for help early enough in the process for it not to have much of a strain on the final product overall, but when he found you in your office, he hadn’t expected to be working with someone like… you.

He was expecting a stuck up hermit who was prepared to tear apart every single piece of his rough draft that he had thrown together, sneering down at him through round framed glasses and frowning at his sheer inferiority within the English department. Instead, he’s greeted with you; a fresh, friendly and drop dead gorgeous face that welcomes him in with no judgment. Aesthetically, and likely spiritually, the two of you can’t appear more different, but you don’t seem at all moved by his dark presence. You smile at him, and you compliment his work though no one has ever taken him as a guy interested in or withholding the brains of one who desires to study the inner workings of the human body. He half thinks you’re just being nice because it’s your job, but he can’t help but take a liking to you immediately solely because of how pretty he deems you to be.

Not only that, but you guide him through each and every one of his stand points within his draft, circling words, marking down sentences, scribbling little notes in the corner summarizing the main point he wishes to get across and how he intends to prove so with his research. You listen to him after asking him to explain something you don’t quite understand, and your eyes search his honestly as he mutters through his intentions that are yet to be properly conveyed on the page. You then nod along with him and tell him that he makes perfect sense when he talks, then you freely provide suggestions about how he can improve this portrayal of understanding in a different way.

And everything you tell him, he understands effortlessly. You have a way with your words and how you transcribe them into something that can be put into paper. You know absolutely nothing about what Choso does academically, but somehow, you magically transform that unknown into what you do know. You tell him that literacy is universal, so it’s easy for you to take any topic and help him construct it properly for literary intake. 

Choso finds himself enraptured by your tutoring. He’s agreeing with you, humming in interest and pointing at the things you write for him, typing away at his notes to record everything he’s hearing. He’s taken by the way your lips move when you speak passionately, intelligently; how your hands swirl animatedly with your speech as you paint physical pictures in the air of what you are verbalizing; how you grin widely when Choso adds onto your suggestions, proving that he is getting a hang of what you are telling him. And above all, Choso can see the joy in your eyes as you help him, how entranced you are by the chance to hold an intelligent conversation about what you have mastered doing and what Choso has mastered doing.

You actually like tutoring him, and Choso can tell because he has come to enjoy being tutored by you within the hour and a half block that you are given.

The two of you only make it through about eight of twenty pages before you somehow get off topic, minutes past your block has ended.

“How long have you been a tutor?” the purple eyed man beside you questions suddenly. You look up, closing the cap of your pen with a gentle smile. You don’t even notice the other appointment in the room leaving, the two of you now completely alone.

“Just for a little over a year,” you say. “I started at the beginning of sophomore year last year.”

“So, you’re only a junior,” Choso observes.

“Didn’t you know that when you clicked my profile on the tutoring site?” you tilt your head.

Choso shakes his head, looking down as he reaches his hand to his keyboard and bouncing his leg. “I… wasn’t paying attention,” he mutters and you laugh slightly.

“You could have picked anybody to help you, then.”

“Yeah, apparently,” he hums. “I’m glad I got you though.”

A certain giddiness captures you as your light smile brightens. “Really?”

“I- just mean, you’re a good teacher,” he adds quickly, brows drawing together. His jumping knee leans over the slightest in his manspreading position beneath the table, leading it to bump against yours clumsily. The two of you look down at the same time, and he brings his leg back in hastily. “Sorry.”

“You’re good,” you bring your shoulders up as you crowd your hands in your lap, his brief contact having startled your nerves. “And thanks. I try my best. I actually had fun during our session.”

He turns to look at you. “You had fun trying to fix my awful writing?”

“No, no,” you chuckle. “Usually I help a lot of freshmen and they don’t really care what they’re writing about, but you really seem to.”

He hums. “I get it.”

“So… why biology? Why blood function?”

“I don’t know. It’s always been cool to me, how much stuff happens inside the body that we can’t see,” he says lowly. “I also… got money to come here in high school for science and all that. It’s kinda always been something I’m good at.”

“You say that like it’s not a big deal,” you raise your brows, turning in your chair to face him completely. He glances at you momentarily from the side, but keeps himself awkwardly forward as he clicks randomly away at the keys on his computer. You can see a dust of pink creeping over his pale skin as he eyes his screen. 

“It’s not really. Plenty of people have scholarships and stuff.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make yours any less impressive,” you say, and his blush brightens. He’s so cute. “What would you wanna do with that when you graduate? This is your last year, right?”

“Oh, uh,” he tilts his head back. “I’m looking for work now… but I don’t know, not a lot of jobs in my field would really…” he tries to find a way to explain. His lips tug to the side and his brows angle, hand finding his locks. “...approve of the way I present. I could probably get away with being a lab tech, but if not, I’d do something behind the scenes. Maybe get another job in retail, too.”

You hum, looking over him. “Is it because of your…” you stop to point to his neck. He looks at you quizzically, reaching his hand to where you point. His face relaxes in realization.

“Yeah,” he breathes out a light laugh, and you shiver. “Didn’t know you could see that.”

“Only a little…” you grin. “What is it?”

He takes in a deep breath, looping his fingers over his jack and pulling it down from the skin by his ear. His face is still lit with a pinch of color as he averts his gaze, tilting his chin so that you can see the sharp lines of ink swerving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, a cyber sigilism design. 

You gulp, your own face growing warm with heat as you examine the way his muscles ripple beneath the tattoo, his face bored though leg still jittery with nerves. 

“I like it,” you say as he releases his jacket and lets it rise to conceal his neck once more. “It suits you.”

He looks at you, pursing his lips. “Thanks. I have a lot more.”

“Yeah?” your eyes dash over his frame out of curiosity.

“You won’t be able to see them,” he tells you, and you snap your eyes right back up to his face. A small smile plays on his lips.

“O-Oh. Right,” you stammer. “How many do you have?”

“At least, like, twenty by now.”

“Really?!” you gasp, rather impressed. “Did they hurt?”

“Only a few, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Hmm. You’re making me think I should get a tattoo.”

Choso’s lips curl into a full fledged grin as he examines you, seemingly amused by the idea. You falter slightly when his teeth reveal from behind his soft lips, a dimple prodding in the corner of his cheek with his smile. “You’d get one?”

You pick up on his slightly playful tone and raise a brow. “Why? I don’t look like I would?”

He shakes his head. “I mean- well, no, but-” he paused. “I guess I don’t look like I’d want to be a medical professional, so.”

You can feel your smile widening, your heart brimming with excitement as he opens himself up to bantering with you. And his smile… you would have never expected such an angelic sight on someone like him. You knew he was handsome before, but now with his eyes shining with humor, his cheeks flushed, and a tumble of shy laughter spilling from his throat, you’re willing to risk everything for a chance to hear him laugh again.

“See?” you muse as he finally closes his laptop.

“Where would you get one?”

“Uhhhh,” you try to think. “Maybe… on my shoulder?”

“Yeah?” he pokes out his bottom lip and nods. “I think you’d pull it off,” he goes to tuck his papers back into his bag, keeping his eyes down as the next phrase falls from his mouth. “Maybe I should take you to get one.”

Your brows jump at his suggestion, unsure of whether he is joking or being serious. He catches your eye when he pulls himself back up, heliotrope pools simmering with that hint of bashfulness as he looks at you through his long lashes. 

“Y-You know,” he starts once more. “After you finish helping me with the rest of my essay.”

Your mind clicks when the topic at hand shifts back to the reason why you are sitting with him in the first place. You turn to look at the clock on the other side of the room and widen your eyes when you find that it is half an hour past when you were meant to be finished. “Speaking of,” you start. “We ran really late.”

Choso perks up, following your gaze. “Oh… shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to… keep you.”

“No, it’s okay! Really. I didn’t even notice what time it was,” you say. Choso stalls with his hand on his computer, having prepared to put it away, but something in his mind is making him hesitate.

“So-”

“Did you-”

You both stop, having talked over each other, and you laugh nervously. “Sorry, you first,” you tell him.

“No, you go.”

You oblige. “Well… when are you free next? We can keep working on your draft. Maybe in the library soon if you want a change of scenery? Or not, we could just stay here.”

You don’t know why you’re all of a sudden acting like a child struggling to speak before him. You are meant to be scheduling a follow-up, as you do with everyone you tutor, but somehow it feels as though you’re asking Choso out on a date.

Before you can say anything more, the brunette is nodding before he even comprehends what you’re asking. “Yes. The library is good. Let’s do that.”

You grin, relieved. “Okay. Cool. Great. When-?”

“Whenever,” he rushes. You blink, and he reels in upon noticing how quickly he answered. He turns away. “I mean- whenever you’re free.”

“Next week? Same time?”

He hums. “Yeah. That’s- that’s perfect.”

You go to stand as Choso reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The two of you stand before each other, silence taking you as you find yourselves unsure of what else to say. 

You look to the side and notice that Choso’s computer is still sitting on the table. You reach out for it, gathering it safely in your hands and presenting it to him. “Here. Don’t forget this.”

He looks down at the device and his brows lift. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he takes the computer from your hands, brushing his fingers accidentally with yours, before pulling it into his grasp and tucking it into his bag, lowering his head to hide his flustered expression. “Thank you. And thanks for the��� the help.”

You nod, smiling. “Anytime.”

You remain before each other for a moment more, neither of you desiring to leave just yet. 

“Should I, you know, give you my contact?” Choso suggests, and you perk up. “For next week, and I guess in the future when we schedule other appointments…”

“Oh, yeah! Sure, here.”

You pull out your phone and let him hover over you, his scent invading your senses once more as he types his number into an empty contact. You call it once he is finished so that your number can pop up on his phone, and he leans away. “Got it.”

“Great,” you smile at him. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

You watch his tall figure trudge away, out of the doorway and down the hall with his face into his phone as he works to save your contact. The moment he leaves, you heave out and press your hand to your chest, excitement fluttering through you in the form of butterflies. 

Hell. What you would have given to get just another five minutes alone with that beautiful stranger. Maybe he would have asked you to hang out sometime properly. 

[cloudcountry]

muse of mine (spoilers for book 3)

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones.

Summary: Azul sees you staring at him and scribbling in that stupid sketchbook of yours time and time again, and he doesn't know why. The worst part about it? Jade and Floyd both know and they won't stop teasing him.

Author's Comments: Azul's Overblot form is really pretty. I want to give him a kiss. Also I made reader extremely chatty and very willing to show people their art because I thought that'd be very interesting with Azul because he's so reserved.

~~~~~

You were staring again, and it was really starting to creep him out.

He was used to the piercing gazes of Jade and Floyd when they wanted something from him or found something new to mock him about. This was different because it was you.

You’d been coming to the Mostro Lounge for weeks now, having considered yourself acquainted with Azul and friends of all things with the eel twins. You never brought any schoolwork with you, but you always had a sketchpad and a pencil. You’d order the same drink, show Jade or Floyd (whoever brought you your drink on that day) what you’d drawn most recently, and then stare at him for the remainder of your visit.

Granted, it wasn’t constant. It just felt like it. Azul would look over at you only to find you sketching away. But then you’d look up, make eye contact with him, and he’d whip his head around like he’d never looked at you at all. Jade and Floyd thought this was hilarious, occasionally bragging about what was in your sketchbook that Azul hadn’t seen. He didn’t want to see what was in your sketchbook if it was something the twins found funny—it was probably weird and disturbing anyways.

And yet you wouldn’t stop staring at him.

“I’m going to do something about this.” he muttered to himself as he paced the VIP Room for the fifth time this week.

“Yeah, good luck Azul. I don’t know if you could handle what’s in that sketchbook of theirs.” Floyd hummed, his tone light and teasing.

“Indeed. It’s quite interesting, if I do say so myself.” Jade chuckled.

Azul ignored them. “They’re a paying customer, so I can’t very well throw them out. Should I just confront them?”

“Ohhhh yeah. Totally! I vote confront.” Floyd laughed loudly, Jade chuckling politely beside him.

Azul rubbed his temples, opting to just ask you what you were doing. What was the worst thing that could happen? You could say something outlandish and he could throw you out. He'd be losing some of his profit, but he had plenty of other paying customers, and you were driving him insane. He’d get some sanity back by just talking to you.

“Jade, Floyd. Bring them here.”

Neither of them said a word as they nodded and left. Floyd definitely found this funny if he didn’t complain, which worried Azul even more. Clearing his throat, he straightened his glasses and sat down at his desk. Maintaining his carefully crafted businessman facade, he waited for you to arrive.

A knock on the door almost made Azul jump out of his skin. He responded with the usual “come in,” staring at you over the rim of his glasses as you were escorted into his room.

“Azul, if you’re going to ask if I want a deal, then it’s a no. I’ve told you I’m not interested.” you said, smiling as you stood next to the guest chair.

Azul said nothing, but motioned for you to sit. You sat, brow beginning to furrow in confusion as Jade and Floyd left your side.

“They’re going to begin their shift. Don’t mind them.” he adjusted his glasses again, “Now, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer honestly.”

“Okay…?” you tilted your head to the side, still clutching that stupid sketchbook to your chest-

“Why do you stare at me so much?” he gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at you, “I’ve noticed. It’s not a constant thing, sometimes you’re staring and sometimes you’re not. Are you planning something? Searching for a weakness? You say you don’t want a deal, but why would you be so fixated if you didn’t want something from me?”

“Azul…actually, wait. I haven’t shown you any of my drawings, have I?” you lit up, scooching closer to the desk, “Here, let me show you-”

“I don’t care about what’s in your sketchbook.” he stated calmly, resting his hand on top of it to stop you from opening it.

“I’m telling you, Azul, it’ll answer your question.” you patted his hand gently, a gesture that made his heart stutter, “Will you let me show you?”

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away. If this was a waste of time or a deflection, he would just stop you. Simple.

“Okay, so…” you opened to the first page, flipping through a few drawings before you stopped a little less than halfway through, “I’ve been documenting things that I love about this place just in case I go home someday. That way I won’t forget anyone’s faces even though a few years may pass. I’ve got Ace and Deuce and Grim and- well, you don’t care about that.”

You were right, he didn’t care about your Heartslabyul friends. The only time he cared was when they were working for him.

“So…well…I mean, I’ll just show you.” you looked excited as you turned another page and pushed your sketchbook towards Azul.

He blinked, not sure of what he was looking at, until he saw it.

You’d drawn him.

He was standing in his dorm uniform, one hand outstretched and mouth open as if talking to a client. His hat was tilted in his head, his hair curled like ocean waves. Swirling octopus tentacles bordered the page, with little heart doodles that Azul didn’t even want to think about littering the background.

“May I…?” he gestured flipping through the pages, to which you nodded enthusiastically.

He flipped to the next page, surprised to see a drawing of just his side profile this time. There was one of him smiling, him annoyed, him smug…

The next page. Him in his bean camo.

The next page. Him in his Halloween costume.

The next page-

His Overblot.

“I’ve been documenting things that I love about this place…”

“You drew…this form?” he recoiled, dropping the sketchbook on the table as if he’d been burned.

“Azul…” you sighed, staring at him with eyes full of an emotion he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge, “I thought it was beautiful. Not that you were about to die or that I was about to die or that Ruggie and Leona and Jack and Ace and Deuce and Grim and- sorry, you get the point- I didn’t think your suffering was beautiful, I thought you were. You're still the prettiest boy on campus in my opinion. I know you don’t like your merform, and that’s why I was hoping I could really do it justice someday, so that you could look at my art and say woah! That’s beautiful! I love looking at this! And recognize it because if it’s not exactly like you then it won’t be as beautiful as I want it to be.”

“If it’s not exactly like you then it won’t be as beautiful as I want it to be.”

Azul’s face was aflame, and by the look on your face you definitely thought he was upset. Of course there was a part of him that thought you were mocking him, but the bigger part of him knew you weren’t that type of person.

“Buttering me up won’t help you get something out of me.” he mumbled, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Oh, you’re flustered! Not angry. Good, because you turned the same shade of red as Riddle does and I was really worried you were going to blow up at me. I’m glad you didn’t though!” you laughed, but returned to your serious state from before, “I’ll seriously stop drawing you if it makes you uncomfortable. I guess I just got in the habit of drawing things I like and-”

“It’s fine. Draw me as much as you want. Just-! Make sure you show me. Next time. When you draw me.” he refused to meet your gaze, but he saw you light up in his peripheral vision.

“Of course! Thank you so much, I’ll make it even better next time!” you nodded vigorously.

“You may take your leave now. Thank you for meeting with me.” Azul bowed his head as you left the room, humming an unfamiliar tune as you let the door shut behind you.

Azul sat in silence for a few beats.

He slowly took off his hat.

And he screamed into it.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

Mark and Julian’s relationship makes me so insane the first time I read the books I don’t remember feeling that way about it? I think I payed most attention to Ty&Livvy + Ty&Jules + Livvy&Jules out of the dynamics so those stuck out most in my memory there are also shifts in what’s focused on most in LM vs Qoaad so that’s part of it but like… Mark and Julian is so funny and compelling to me because they do not understand each other at all! No scene encompasses how much Mark does not get Julian like the scene post whipping where Jules goes on that speal about how he wouldn’t want to live if Emma died and knows it’s not healthy but he might do what Malcolm did for Annabel if she did did and Mark is like “no my baby brother you are too good a person you would never ever do something like that ik you don’t mean any of it” had me in stitches ajdjdj as a reader who’s been in Jules’ head and knows that yes, he absolutely did mean all of that (codependent king love him for that <3). And then in LoS there’s a scene where Mark is tasked with watching the kids and minor things go wrong (well I mean someone does get injured. But for Shadowhunters that is still p minor) so he’s like “oh my god Julian would Never have let things go wrong like this he would know exactly what to do” bestie no… he wouldn’t have known better he would have just faked it till he made it and never let anyone know he was struggling to begin with lolz. That’s not even getting into the Emma thing which is just a whole cycle of them projecting their own feelings onto the other person Mark assuming Julian loves her platonically because he does and Julian assuming Mark’s would be in love with her because that’s normal existence to him usually I don’t care for set ups like that but this one is fun somehow.. and that scene after Emma and Jules argued and then fucked in that cottage so Jules comes back in a good mood and notices that Mark is constantly on edge around him because he’s accidentally been so snippy/cunty to him since the fake dating started and he’s like “oh have I been that bad?” And then tells Mark he’ll be cool now because he knows they weren’t really together Andjjd. also they’re both sooo bad at being teenage boys in completely different ways so the juxtaposition of their traumas is fun “I don’t understand how to be a teenage boy because I’ve been raised to be a “feral” (only using the word because they use it to describe Mark so many times in the books) creature and feel trapped by being among humans” vs “I don’t understand how to deal with teenage boy emotions or think through that aspect of life so I repress all of them while clinging to my responsible adult mask + using my political strategist wiles to get through life”. Idk why but I just really like their whole thing…

[berrypass-de-murdler]

100. Murder at the Murdle Premiere

The final episode.

please I implore you, provide feedback of what you thought of the series, and if you're looking forward to the second installment - I strongly want to improve or potentially end depending on general response this series <3

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico can’t sleep. He tosses and turns in his lonely apartment bed in the dead of night. The movie Murdle is tomorrow… and as much as he wishes he could just leave Hollywood and pretend the film never happened, he can’t. He has to be there, to solve an inevitable murder… and because Midnight III is forcing him to. He is jumpscared by a call from an unknown number. He answers it with his heart beating out of his chest.

???: I know who framed Irratino!

The voice is too quiet to identify.

LOGICO: Who are you!

Of course, the caller immediately hangs up. Logico rubs his eye and falls back down, miserable, praying this will all be over soon.

The next night, after the poor chap had essentially been sleeping all day, Logico wearily heads outside to a surprise. Inspector Irratino is in a full suit, in front of a sparkling limousine. 

LOGICO: Irratino… what the hell? IRRATINO: I know you hate to drive. Come on - guest of honor first.

Flustered but touched, the little man climbs in. Irratino gives him a miniature tux to match, so he’ll look even more like a penguin. Logico is afraid of what will happen at this showing. But he snuggles into Irratino in the backseat as they’re taken to the most extravagant cinema in the world.

Everything in the theater is sparkling velvet and gold - it’s so luxurious it’s an eyesore. The crowd they’re met with is insane, it seems like every suspect from every case has come to watch the film. And the screen on the stage is the largest anyone has ever seen. In fact, the very last thing that comes to Logico’s attention is the body. 

PRESIDENT: The Vice President. A complete waste of My time, but regardless, a person. MIDNIGHT: Look Logico. A murder. Deal with it before the movie starts.

Obsidian stands close by, looking suspicious as ever. Irratino is staring intensely. Logico finds a paper in the dead man’s pocket with a phone number. And he looks up at the four people who are in front of him. 

Logico knows he’s been set up. That this entire adventure that has worn him down to nothing was meticulously planned by someone. Midnight III forced him into this job. The President is bound by his father’s will to keep the studio intact. Obsidian has been playing him since the beginning and will do anything for her own success. And Irratino knows too much. The goat approaches him. Logico, unable to bring himself to speak, holds out his hand to stop him. 

To make matters worse, everyone in the audience is staring. Logico looks at them all and can barely see straight. 

PRESIDENT: Hey. [kneels down to him] How do We know You’d even be able to solve something like this? LOGICO: Just start the film.

He gives up and leaves. He is so tired of solving murders. He never wants to do this again. 

PRESIDENT: There We go.

Irratino tenses, and shoves the president out of the way, heading after Logico.

LOGICO: [sobbing] I can’t do this… I never wanted to be here… I want to go home.

A shadow looms over him.

LOGICO: …Irratino… I… know you’re there. IRRATINO: G- LOGICO: Don’t say anything. 

He doesn’t. He just shows him two notes - one in Detective Code, and one in the code that he taught him on the cruise. Remembering the symbols, Logico is able to read both, and looks up at the goat lord, who gives him a soft smile. 

LOGICO: [quietly] I could have never done this without you.

Hug <3

And they go back to the stage.

LOGICO: It was Midnight III - he’s behind everything.

Everyone kind of looks in confusion. What evidence does he have to back that up? But staring dead at the cloud of smoke, Logico knows he’ll break. He’s just too cocky not to.

MIDNIGHT: Fine. I did it. I killed the vice president, but I only did it because he got it my way. PRESIDENT: Son. Stop talking. Wait until Blackstone gets here. BLACKSTONE: I am here!! I heard the whole thing- MIDNIGHT: Shut up, Dad. 

Midnight’s voice is starting to get really gravelly and scathing, unlike how he sounded before..

MIDNIGHT: I don’t care about your lawyers. I’m sick of you altogether. You inherited a company built on oil, and you tried to make it half about movies. Your pathetic attempt to make art got in the way of what we needed to make, and what I needed to make. 

He continues to explain his evil plan, as every weak villain does. But it’s a lot of dialogue, and I’m too lazy to write the entire thing word-for-word. And if you’ve read the book, like you should have, you already know what he says!

MIDNIGHT: I hope you’re both murdered soon. And I want this fucking show to end. Can’t you see you’ve all been played. Can’t you see that… that your stupid story was planned. I was doomed to fail from the beginning. CAN’T YOU SEE WE’RE ALL DESTINED TO-

Obsidian steps in and forces the little blob off the stage. And the President too - he’s useless. Midnight continues ranting, but no one can hear him anymore. Logico and Irratino stare at the vast audience of previous offenders. There’s a long silence. And then, suddenly, everyone bursts into a roaring applause. They’re cheering for Logico! The real Logico… not just some character he plays. Obsidian smiles and raises a glass to him. He tears up and looks at Irratino, who grabs him into a tight hug. For the first time, Logico feels so relieved. He doesn’t want this moment to end.

IRRATINO: Logico... remember when you brought that penguin from the dead and we had a drunk party? LOGICO: Yes, Irratino, how could I ever forget. IRRATINO: ...Could we do that again?

And they do. For once, Logico doesn't care if he and Irratino look like idiots, because this is worth celebrating.

The movie sucked, but who cares? It’s just a movie, and Logico got enough money for a slightly bigger apartment. He leads Irratino to it.

LOGICO: All right, open your eyes.

He does, and gasps when he sees a new desk labeled ‘I. IRRATINO’. The hapless goat squeals and squeezes Gico, ready to move in as soon as he can. This is not what Logico meant. But he’s not going to say no.

On the backside of the door, there’s a note he certainly didn’t write, and neither did Irratino. It’s made of only numbers. And Logico can’t figure out what it means… 

IRRATINO: Hey Logico. LOGICO: …what. IRRATINO: You know when there were ancient ruins on the moon? LOGICO: WHAT? You weren’t there for that! IRRATINO: Ah, but was I? The ruins may be oil deposits, but that doesn’t explain anything about the one on the moon - how’d ancient people even get up there without some kind of alien presence? LOGICO: Oh come on, are we doing this now? This is just stupid…

Irratino shuts the door behind them, slowly zooming out on the apartment, the building, and the city.

IRRATINO: Alright, if it’s so stupid, how do you explain it? LOGICO: Pfft. It’s not ALIENS. IRRATINO: Then what is it?? LOGICO: No more questions. IRRATINO: Logico…

And they continue to banter on, deep into the night.

The end (for real this time)! 

Thank you to anyone who bothered to read this - I love you all.

May the power of Goat Lord compel you

[fairer-tales]

In Memoriam Headcanons!!

cus i’m still insane about them and want nothing but happiness for our boys

~spoilers for the book ahead-

• In Brazil, Gaunt and Ellwood almost always wear coordinating ties and handkerchiefs (either wearing the same pattern in different colours, or vice versa, or by swapping so that one has the kerchief to go with the others tie)

• Gaunt tried to write a poem about Ellwood once. He got four lines in and got embarrassed with himself and went to box instead. he left the page in her desk drawer and never found it again.

• Contrary to popular belief, Gaunt is a riot at embassy events in Brazil (when he actually joins in conversation). He just makes blunt, usually unwittingly witty comments that make the tipsy embassy blokes roar with laughter (that tism humour fr).

• Ellwood loves to host. in the beginning, it’s to fill the void of living in brazil and the aftermath of the war, but he finds that he really enjoys it. utter peacock.

• Ellwood loves the flowers in Brazil, but he can’t often find some of ones that align with the victorian flower language. So, he invents a new flower language just for him and Gaunt.

• Ellwood, ever spiteful, used to step on the toes of young women who flirted with Gaunt at balls when it was his turn to dance with them. Despite how much it pained him to risk damaging his reputation as an excellent dancer.

• They used to have snowball fights at Thornycrpft when they spent Christmas hols there together.

• Gaunt rarely speaks german, but when he’s particularly drunk, he starts whispering german terms of endearment into Ellwood’s ear. Ellwood doesn’t have a clue what he’s saying but he’s not complaining.

• Having baths together (partly as an inside joke, partly cus <3 )

• I’m sure they would have a pet, but can decide on what animal. i can picture ellwood getting an exotic bird for parlour tricks when he’s hosting, giving it an eccentric name (like Benedict or Florian) but actually getting super attached. Or, Gaunt having a realy pampered cat (probably a white long haired breed). ORRR Gaunt finds a dog that reminds him of his old dog at home and has a ‘can we keep him’ moment

• Gaunt publishes his translations. perhaps he makes them more accessible for people who aren’t getting that upper class public school education, with english translation accompanying the original greek (inspired by his friendship with Hayes). Maybe Hayes reads them and resolves that they’re just ‘decent’

• If they return to england, Ellwood brings his hosting reputation with him, and holds a party upon his return to england and before their departure back to brazil or wherever their travels take them every time. unwittingly attracts a LOT of upper-class queers.

• they get (fake) married one day. they get matching wedding bands in whatever metal matches the other’s undertones (cus this is the type of thing at least one of them knows). they get to cal each other ‘husband’ in the comfort of their own home.

[year2000electronics]

do you have any tips or suggestions for someone wanting to make their own oc story? your ocs and their stories are so insanely cool but i have no idea where i’d even begin to make one!

also happy y2kvr-versary ! late i know but it was still the ask blog that caused me to follow you and i’ve just stuck around for your other content after. :)

HMMMM lemme just spill a bunch of my thoughts all at once, this is just some stuff i personally like doing with my own oc stories! by no means is this a comprehensive list and i am not a professional!

1. accept the fact that you’re probably going to need minor/side characters. of course that isn’t always the case, there are story types that only focus on a handful of characters, but let’s use the reckoning as an example: even though i love all the characters there dearly, it’s about sinclair and his donning and subsequent subverting of the “mythological hero” mantle by taking on the vices’ challenge. montez and duncan, the other two archangels, are there to serve as a secondary antagonist in holy orders and bring some more life to the story’s world respectively, and That’s Okay. recognizing that not all your characters are gonna be the most specialest boys is a great place to start with structuring an oc story imo!

2. KEEP AT IT. the reckoning as it exists now didn’t truly come together until 2020, which is when the ask blog was made. cardine (the city the vices reside in) is such a key, important concept that drives the story along and the reckoning wouldn’t be nearly as good without it, and that only got introduced in one of the final drafts pre-ask blog!! reworks, practice with laying out the events, thinking and re-thinking of stuff and spending years with it is really good. it’s healthy. i mean a lot of great films and tv get ‘saved’ at the last minute from being terrible by one terrible concept being scrapped so revising and not being afraid to change things is your best friend

3. learn some rules. i’m of the firm belief that storytelling should be an all-access hobby for everyone, so you don’t have to read all of save the cat and then write out a full script or anything, but like. turn on a movie you like, or read a book you love. think about what they’re doing to convey primary themes to you. pick out the themes, actually, that’s good too. being able to pick up on themes that aren’t just being stated to you as if it’s dialogue from sonic heroes is a great teacher on how to subtly weave those themes into your story

4. don’t be afraid to break those rules! a lot of that stuff is great to pick up but at the same time they’re YOUR characters, and if you find yourself getting bored by playing too “by the book”, nobody said you can’t change how things work. for example, a lot of my oc stories have “villain protagonists” because i just really connect with the way ‘villains’ present themselves in media. if you find yourself fixating on a side character and brushing your main character aside? screw it! you can just make the story about them! what if a 7/11 clerk went on an adventure instead of the main guy!!

5. INSPIRATION IS YOUR FRIEND. WEAR IT ON YOUR SLEEVE. i don’t mean you have to publicly disclose every single thing you were inspired by, but the amazing digital circus is REALLY big right now, and gooseworx has told people IHNMAIMS and the raggedy ann movie were big inspos and she clearly loves those things because they uplift the work higher! (plus it gave people a new appreciation for those things) and, imo, understanding what inspires you and celebrating it is a lot better of a mindset than going into something out of sheer spite (like you’ll see a lot of people online making very inflammatory “i alone could fix a piece of media that had to go through an entire writer’s room as well as corporate mandates, gosh why doesn’t everyone just Make Things Good?” type posts on social media, and i find myself straying more and more away from that). best example i can think of are all those very ill-fated “original alien stories” that su criticals made back in the day that were even more confusing than the gems and everyone had to pretend that “of course it makes more sense for the aliens to be flowers, gosh, why didn’t rebecca sugar think of this? we’re so smart”. my point is hate and shame can fizzle out quickly but creativity is forever

6. and of course, always make sure you’re actually having a good experience with the process. fun, catharsis, importance, etc. if it sucks, you can literally hit the bricks. i say that with experience because before my original superhero story existed (iris of the storm), there was another (problem students). it was dormant as a story for a really long time because i had accidentally made a superhero story without any of the superhero tropes i loved, but i couldn’t just… delete it all! OH WAIT. YES I COULD. i started it all over and got rid of ocs that i was glad i made but don’t need anymore, and i’ve never been happier cos iris of the storm is actually fun for me.

BUT YEAH THATS IT. thumbs up

[audrinawf]

The Identity Shift

so I’m writing this 5 months later than I expected but here it goes. this spring I decided to change my identity. I did some small changes but also some big ones. some changes I felt like were kind of unnecessary in the beginning but they proved to be just as important.

I’ve always used manifestation as a hack. which means that when I wanted to manifest something I would call it in using various manifestation techniques but something’s changed this year.

I delved into my spiritual path more than ever this year, I read so many books, I meditated more than ever and most importantly, I completely isolated myself for almost a whole year. complete hermit mode. and also…I did 🍄.

one of the consistent teachings I kept seeing in all the books and schools of thought I encountered was the concept of changing one’s identity.

and here’s the thing. the more you ascend wether that’s mentally or spiritually , you can even think if it as levels.let’s say you’re at level 5. once you get to level 6 a lot of things change in your physical reality. some people just completely disappear from your life. they didn’t die but they might as well. the people you used to run into on the streets are nowhere to be found, suddenly you’re seeing completely new people when you go to your usual spots.

it’s cause you’re at a completely different level of reality and consciousness. it’s like a game. and what I noticed is that if you don’t make the necessary changes yourself, you get put in situations where you are forced to change, the decisions is out of your hands.

this quite literally happened to me. as soon as I ascended I could no longer tolerate the foods I’ve been eating all of my life. sounds crazy right? I can’t even explain how or why.

I went from eating a very high carb diet to being completely unable to digest any gluten and basically forced to go in a carnivore diet. cause even when I tried to resist meat and only eat beans and lentils and nuts my body developed a allergy to all 3 of those foods.

why did this happen? cause I decided that I was going to be a fit person. I decided that I was going to be lean and always have abs. so now thanks to the diet I’m basically forced to have I do have abs. and mind you I was someone who insisted that I could never be fit cause I was South Asian and us South Asians can’t be fit cause our genetics is ruined thanks to colonialism. It’s a limiting mindset I had for years.

I decided that I was someone who never got cavities, well guess what? I literally couldn’t drink energy drinks or eat sour candy without getting sick. why? cause the acidity in those foods was rotting my teeth. so the universe literally forced me to stop.

I decided that I was someone who was surrounded by good people that only wanted good things for me. what happened? my best friend literally started acting so crazy out of nowhere that I had to cut her out of my life. well it’s turns out that she had been doing black magic on me for a long time and the moment I decided that I wanted quality friends over quantity, she was gone. the way our friendship even ended was out of my hands. all it took was one identity shift.

I realized now that my life has changed so much. It’s absolutely insane. my friend who I’ve literally grown up with since we were babies just disappeared from my life. and here’s the thing, she lived 30 seconds away from me, and we work together at the same company and I haven’t run into her at work or the grocery store, NOT EVEN ONCE. it’s like she doesn’t even exist in my reality.

all of a sudden I got 6 new friends, and now I have the type of friend group I’ve always wanted. We go out and eat, we travel together, they’re helping me plan my wedding and we meet up regularly. It truly feels like the friendship that the girls from the sex and the city have and that’s exactly the type of friendship I have tried to manifest and I got it the moment I changed my identity.

So how do we consciously change our identity?

you need to change every little thing about yourself even the things you think don’t matter. but they do.

if you want to you can even create an alter ego. I know Beyoncé does it when she’s on stage. she becomes Sasha Fierce. cause sometimes we have to be someone completely different to be able to break the habits of ourselves.

this is why so many people prefer to start fresh in a new town once they want to change their identity. so create a new identity and allow yourself to turn that identity on every day.

think about what characteristics you identify with and why? did someone call you shy and you just internalized it. maybe you’re not shy maybe you’re just someone who has boundaries and takes a longer time to trust other people. maybe you don’t think some people are worthy of knowing you so you keep that part of you reserved for your closest. whatever traits you identify with flip them and see them as positive.

once you’ve worked on the internal you can start changing things physically.

Like me for example I always wear my best jewelry even if I’m going to the grocer. I even bought so many different styles of engagement rings before I even met my fiancé cause I loved the idea of wearing a wedding ring one day. And guess what? I manifested the fattest engagement ring.

I decided that I was someone that had a high income side hustle so on the days I didn’t work I wake up early, got dressed as if I had an important day filled with meeting and then I got in my laptop and started working on my side hustle. If you saw me you’d think I was the CEO of a million dollar company. but you know what. the moment I got into this role and started playing this character, a thousand doors opened. It’s absolutely crazy how many opportunities came out of nowhere.

I didn’t have to work on marketing my business, I didn’t have to work extensively on perfecting my site. the moment I changed my energy, money started flowing to me and my business.

there’s so many ways to change your identity and it can be so much fun. I decided that I wasn’t someone who ate junk foods and sugar ever. So I don’t. That’s not who I am. I decided I was someone who was stylish so I started wearing my best outfits even when I “didn’t have a good enough reason to” I wore the pretty dresses that had been in my closet collecting dust cause I have a reason to show up as my hottest best self and that’s cause I’m an important person with a job and a business and I look good every day. and the more I dressed up the more events and parties I manifested. I literally became the person I was trying to magically manifest for years in just 5 months.

and I did it cause I knew that whatever I wanted would come to me. I didnnt have to know how cause the way would be revealed to me in the future. I just had to start. And so I did.

follow for more identity shifting tips 🩷

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

June 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Step By Step (Tues WeTV & Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I really adore the family/household dynamics in this show. All the relationships between siblings are so well executed. All the tension and sub text and covert glances in the first “modeling” sequence was so good. I really want to watch the BL within this BL. Bruce is THE BEST. Jeng shutting down everyone with a cool few words is genius (especially given the curt sharp flat way he speaks Thai). Why does nobody have parasols or sun hats or sunshades or sunglasses or anything? I’m actually not mad about seeing an attempted reunion with the ex, bc we are getting to see both that (and how) they once were good together, and also the cracks that drove them apart (and will not allow them to ultimately be together a 2nd time around). I do feel sorry for Jeng, he moved too slowly and lost the 1st round. The captions were not good in the trunk seen, but trust me it was totally hilarious. 

La Pluie (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - I finally figured out why I am so tense around this show. In openly taking to task and challenging the soulmates trope, this narrative is telling viewers not to trust it’s core trope - which means we cannot trust the main couple to end happily, nor can we trust those characters who believe most strongly in fated mates (Pat & Mai). This means I, personally, not only can’t rely on an HEA but (as someone who also does not believe in soulmates) I am not entirely sure I even WANT an HEA. This has NEVER happened to me before. It makes me uncomfortable because that’s a core part of my identify with these shows. I mean, good job La Pluie, but also.... huh. Back to this ep: Uh oh. The crush is obvious and the soulmate knows what’s up now. The sex scene twist was v interesting, v gay, and v unusual in a BL. Unfortunately it’s still a BL so the faen fatal just HAD to appear. Will there ever be one out of Thailand where this trope doesn’t show up? Next week is the tried & true uke damsels off into the woods alone. Sigh. 

Our Skyy 2 (Bad Buddy & 1k*) eps 12-16fin - Jimmy, baby, why so hot in an engineering smock? Please have mercy. Aw, Marc is back in yet ANOTHER BL. Definitely the current record holder for most BLs at any one time. (His filming schedule must’ve been insane at the beginning of this year!) PatPran are still great, and their eps this had me hooting with laughter (startling the cat). I forgot how much I enjoyed this show and cast. (Ohm looks great with longer hair, but also he’s lost a lot of weight. I hope he’s OK.) OhmNanon give pitch perfect LTR energy. Throwing EarthMix into the, erm, mix is fun if awkward. NO SINGING. 2 damsels in the forest! Also PatPran = geniuses at mock fighting. So much flirting. It was all quite adorbs. But me-thinks Chief & Tian have been eating moonlight chicken. Full review below. 

Be My Favorite (Fri YouTube) ep 3 of 10? - was enjoying it up until the last bit, why so digusted by smooches? Bad GMMTV no green tea for you. Trash watch here! Rollercoaster about to go DOWWNNNN. 

Luminous Solution (Sat Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - I still only like the high school characters + Dome (WHY so gorgeous?). Is he a magical spirit too? Also, the subs were well off kilter. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 10 fin - God they’re so cute. This show used the manga as a storyboard, so I knew the “crisis of faith over possibility of loss” would happen. Still in live action this felt tonally off. While understandable given Yutaka’s character, and ultimately particularly important for the dad and a relationship with the family, I don’t know we needed it in this BL. The book does have a better ending second scene, but it wouldn’t be possible to do it on screen easily. Ultimately, this show had a simple, touching, quiet end to it. That’s very like the show as a whole. I did love it - it’s been top of my list all along. Full review after the special airs. 

Love Tractor (Korea Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 8 - I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT IS EVERYTHING. SHUT UP I AM FERRIL FOR THE BEAUTIFUL CITY BOY AND THE YOUNG FARMER. Come on. Korea. SRS? Plus some language play? I just go die now. 

Star Struck (Korea iQIYI & Gaga) ep 7-8 fin - Man this was a difficult show for me. I know we’re supposed to identify with HanJoon but I really felt for YooJae. I’ve been in his position more often than I care to count, and it’s terrible to lose a friend because they caught feelings and you did not. It’s an awful thing to hold a friendship hostage on condition of a romantic relationship. Especially if the other person is not sexually interested in you! All that said, the boyfriend ep was okay. Not sure I believed in this relationship, but it was cute enough. The final ep was (how do I put this?) a loser. We spent a lot of time with terrible home lives and then a semi happy for now final scene? Whatever. Full review below. 

Vian the series (Vietnam YouTube ) ep 6 of 12 - somehow I keep missing this one, I’ll catch it next week. 

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - I think the Taiwanese boss is my favorite character. Japan rarely (if ever ) trots out the faen fatal trope. I mean I named it with a Thai word for a reason, it’s not from origin yaoi at all. Yet still there she is. Sigh. This show. 

Stupid Genius (Vietnam Fri YouTube) ep 1 of 6 - RL Studio (Stupid Boys Stupid Love) bringing us yet another high school set VBL. It’s actually not bad. I see a lot of common faces whom I’ve enjoyed in past VBLs. 

It’s Airing But ...

House of Stars (Thai Mon iQIYI) 12 eps - I bounced at ep 3. Will binge if told it is worth it at end.

Stay (Pinoy YouTube) 7 eps - It’s mostly in English and set in LA so I’m not bothering but the first one did drop.

Ever After (Pinoy ????) - I got nothing. 

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS and no, I have no idea where to get it, why would I? (Say it with me everyone: Oh Japan, must you?*)

Boys Love Omegaverse (Japan ????) - honestly tho? Who tf cares? You’ll still tell me if you find it, because inquiring minds... Irony of this airing at the same time as Takumi-kun. Full circle much, Japan? 

Tin Tem Jai Special (Thai ????) - honestly I checked Gaga & iQiyi in my territory (craptastic hotel) and neither had it listed so I quickly gave up. I mean OF COURSE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE Lee Long Shi in a bathtub, who wouldn’t? But... 

Just because I didn’t watch the special doesn’t mean I can’t gank Lee Long Shi wearing nothing but soap bubbles for you. 

I’m not a monster. 

Ended This Week 

Our Skyy 2 final 4 eps thoughts: This was an interesting combination, and don’t get me wrong I very much enjoyed it, but it felt like the story was carried by PatPran’s characters while the setting and narrative followed an ATOTS arc - ultimately disjointed. OhmNanon are so bold and vibrant they’re too stark a tonal contrast to EarthMix’s more refined and elegant approach, so for me the screen presences and the style of story clashed. It was like a bouquet made up of tulips & roses: they are both flowers and they’re both pretty, but I feel like they actually belong in different vases. Still, enjoyable. And I got a crying kiss. Always makes me happy. Definitely the best of this bunch, and probably the best Our Skyy (and I genuinely loved both the NLMG historical installment and SOTUS.) 8/10 

Star Struck. A friends to lovers story that felt more friends to tolerant yet disinterested partner. It was more about challenges with parents and class strife. I would’ve been disappointed if the show hadn’t come out of nowhere so I had no expectations. But as KBLs go, don’t bother. 6/10 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting:

6/15 Tokyo in April AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan Gaga) 8 eps - Based on a yaoi, this is a reunion romance that takes place in an office. Japan does Our Dating Sim? Yes please.

Still Coming - June 2023

6/22 About Us but Not About Us (Pinoy movie from 2022 on Prime) - A professor grieving the loss of his partner meets an ambitious literature student.

6/24 Why You (Khmer BL ????) - Billed as a horror romance, not sure if this is a movie or a series where it will air... nothing except that it exists.

6/24 Tie The Knot AKA Under the Same Sky (Pinoy movie on Prime) Trailer - I guess Prime is coming for our Pinoy BL? From OXIN Films (Rainbow Prince), announced for 2022 based on a true story, Briggs's family runs a bridal business but he has never had a chance to fall in love until he meets Shao, a groom to be.

6/25 Dinosaur Love (Thai iQIYI) Trailer 5 eps - from Ultimate Troop about a uni student, Rak, whose partner cheats on him with Rak's best friend. This gives bad boy hazer Dino an opportunity to hit on Rak at last. From The Yearbook people so I will not watch this as it airs. After Remember Me? Never again with them.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Bruce is so damn fantastic in this show.

Consent comes in all different forms. (both Step by Step) 

Fight fight fight!

Sex sex sex blow job! (both La Pluie) 

Smartest boy in the show. 

Not enough InkPa... never enough. Never never never! 

Love the suit.

All from the Our Skyy 2 BB + ATOTS cross over. 

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? IVE’s I Am

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

10 Forgotten Muscle Cars That Deserve to Be Restored

by James Derek Sapienza 

Source: General Motors We all know the story; it started in 1964 with the Ford Mustang. No, wait — I mean the Plymouth Barracuda. Or the Pontiac GTO. Or was it earlier with the Pontiac Catalina SD? The ’50s Dodge D-500 maybe? Debating the origin of the muscle car is like debating over the first rock and roll record; everyone you talk to has a different opinion, and no one is exactly wrong. Let’s just say that by the early ’60s, a generation coming of age fell in love with high-performance midsize cars coming out of Detroit, and for a few brief years, performance ruled the day. Naturally, the good old days seem to look better with each passing year, and as the book was written on the muscle car, a fair amount of contenders fell by the wayside.

1. 1964 Studebaker Avanti R3

Source: Auctions America The Avanti isn’t generally counted among muscle cars, but then, Studebaker was never exactly considered a performance powerhouse to begin with. But the fiberglass Avanti had a long hood, short rear deck, and 289-cubic-inch V8 a full two years before the Ford Mustang did. In 1964 (after production officially ended), Studebaker bored out nine V8s to 304 cubic inches, slapped a Paxton supercharger on them, and dropped them into remaining Avantis. The result was a 171-mile-per-hour rocket, which the company claimed made it the fastest production car in America. This R3 was sold by Auctions America in 2010 for $96,250. With the collector market being what it is today, good luck finding one this cheap ever again.

2. 1965 Pontiac 2+2

Source: General Motors As far as classic muscle cars go, the ’65-’67 GTO is remembered to be about as big as they came. But with the success of the GTO, Pontiac wanted to take its go-fast formula to an even bigger car, which became the ’65-’67 2+2. Based on the full-size Catalina two-door, the 2+2 had its own unique 338-horsepower 421-cubic-inch V8, and in High Output guise, power jumped to 376 ponies, which when tuned right could rocket from zero to 60 in a mind-bending 3.9 seconds. Bigger, plusher, and often faster than its smaller stablemate, the 2+2 deserves a lot more love from speed freaks. 

3. 1964 Mercury Comet Cyclone

Source: Ford For ’60s Ford products, the Mercury Comet was about as basic as they came. Closely based on the Ford Falcon, the ’64-’65 Comet could be livened up with Ford’s famous 289-cubic-inch V8. But for those who wanted more from their Mercurys, Ford built 50 Comet Cyclones for the dragstrip, complete with fiberglass hood, fenders, doors and front bumper, plexiglass windows, and the same 425-horsepower 427 V8 found in the Shelby Cobra. In ’66, Mercury introduced the production Comet GT with the 390 V8, and while they’re capable compact muscle cars, they couldn’t hope to match the insanity of their big block predecessor.

4. 1968 Ford Ranchero 500

Source: Ford It’s been long overshadowed by Chevy’s iconic El Camino, but the Ford Ranchero was America’s first car-based Ute. And while Chevy was offering the 396 V8 in its muscle trucks, Ford upped the ante in ’68 and made its restyled Ranchero available with a 335-horsepower Cobra Jet 428 V8. Unfortunately, a lack of weight over the rear wheels made the hot Rancheros a handful to drive, so very few were built with Ford’s biggest motor. While it seems like every surviving El Camino happens to be an SS model, we can’t remember the last time we’ve seen a Cobra Jet Ranchero. Come to think of it, we can’t remember the last time we’ve seen any Ranchero.

5. 1969 Chevy Kingswood 427

Source: General Motors Back in the ’60s, you could order virtually any option you wanted on a car, and companies would actually build it for you. So imagine you’ve got a growing family, and your Corvette just can’t handle them. What to do? Buy a Chevy Kingswood station wagon with Rally wheels, hideaway headlights, seating for seven, and the same 390-horsepower V8 found in your ‘Vette. Only 546 buyers opted for the big V8 in ’69, but a number of 427 Kingswoods spent the next decade making their mark on the drag strip.

6. 1969 Oldsmobile Rallye 350

Source: General Motors When gearheads think of outrageous muscle cars from 1969, the Pontiac GTO Judge easily sits at the top of the list. But while the Judge has gone on to become a legend, Oldsmobile’s analog, the Rallye 350, is all but forgotten. Like the Judge (at least at first) it was offered in one outrageous color (Sebring Yellow), had color-matched wheels and bumpers, a spoiler, and a fiberglass hood. And compared to Olds’s top-dog 442, the car’s 310-horsepower 350-cubic-inch V8 made it significantly lighter, allowing it to scramble from zero to 60 in seven seconds and run the quarter mile in a respectable 15.27 seconds at 97 miles per hour. Just 3,500 Rallye 350s were built, making it one of the more obscure muscle cars to ever come from GM.

7. 1969 Ford Torino Talladega

Source: Ford Half a century on, the Plymouth Roadrunner Superbird and Dodge Daytona get all the love when it comes to NASCAR homologation specials. But in 1969, Ford tried its hand at aerodynamics too and built the Torino Talladega. Starting with a Torino Sportsroof, Ford worked with the Holman-Moody race shop to design a sleeker, longer front clip and rear fascia for the car. The Talladega was honed in the wind tunnel — a relative novelty for the era — and powered by the 429-cubic-inch V8 found in the Boss Mustang. Production was over by March; Ford only built 754 of them and they were barely advertised, but the slippery cars dominated during the ’69 season, winning 29 races. In 1970, however, the 200-mile-per-hour Superbird ruled NASCAR, and the Talladega’s time in the spotlight was over. Today, the Talladega (and near-identical Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II) are bargains on the collector market compared to the beak-nosed Mopars.

8. 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix SJ

Source: General Motors The second-generation Grand Prix is largely remembered for its role in popularizing the Personal Luxury Coupe segment, but in its early days, it was one of the hottest cars on the street. With a long hood (the longest hood of any production car in ’69, in fact) and short deck, the Grand Prix was available with Pontiac’s 390-horsepower 428-cubic-inch V8, allowing it to scramble from zero to 60 in 6.5 seconds and run the quarter mile in 15 seconds at 97 miles per hour. Its combination of luxury and power made it the Grand Prix massive hit for Pontiac; within a few years, any semblance of performance would be gone.

9. 1970 Chrysler Hurst 300

Source: Fiat Chrysler Automobiles As early as 1970, Chrysler die-hards were feeling nostalgic for the 300-letter series, which ended in 1965. The 300-series carried on, but performance had taken a back seat as mid-sized muscle cars had picked up the go-fast mantle. Chrysler tried to recapture the magic for ’70 by outfitting a 300 coupe with the interior from an Imperial, a fiberglass hood and decklid, a 375-horsepower 440-cubic-inch V8, and a Torque-Flite automatic to handle all that power. At 18.5 feet long and 4,400 pounds, the big Chrysler could still make zero to 60 in 7.1 seconds and run the quarter mile in 15.3 seconds. With just 500 built, the Hurst 300s rank as one of the rarest Mopar muscle cars of all time. 

10. 1971 AMC SC/360 Hornet

Source: Chris Andrews Productions via YouTube In the ’60s, AMC’s red, white, and blue Rebel Machine and SC/Rambler muscle cars failed to move the sales needle for America’s last independent automaker, but they sure caused a scene wherever they went. For 1970, the company had introduced the compact Hornet and Gremlin to replace the Rambler, and with them came the SC/360 Hornet. With an available 285-horsepower 360-cubic-inch V8 under the hood, the small Hornet could hit 60 from a standstill in 6.7 seconds, and run the quarter mile in 14.9 seconds at 97 miles per hour. But in 1970, displacement still ruled the day, and despite being cheaper than a Plymouth Duster 340, AMC found just 784 buyers for its smallest muscle car. We think it’s aged remarkably well, and would love to take one of these ’70s-era sleepers to the drag strip.

[raraeavesmoriendi]

I just finished last night and I have some questions for people who have read mike bockoven’s fantasticland -

[for those who have not:

- take a climate change-charged hurricane that’s the worst noaa has seen in recent memory and the first to hit daytona beach since 1960

- throw it at a Not-Disney-World Florida theme park with major national nostalgia, where a bunch of the Not-Disney College Program kids and some adult staff have opted to get paid extra to stay inside the park through the storm to prevent looting

- watch as people trapped within the park for more than a month - still with plenty of food and water, mind you - lose their minds, fragment into factions, and begin going full battle royale/lord of the flies on each other

- tell the whole thing testimonial style with different witnesses interviewed each chapter, a la World War Z, with some insanely unreliable narrators to boot

if that sounds like your kind of horror novel, give it a go. it’s not perfect (especially when they call the factions ‘tribes,’ which. yikes.) but I tore through it in like, two days.]

okay, questions below, spoilers for the novel:

1. …is the pirate who comforted the little boy who was evacuating, in interview three with the kansas city dad, Brock Hockley? am I reading too much into that?

like. I don’t remember that we ever get a description of him, so I don’t know about the “weird beard/mustache thing” the dad describes, but just. the emphasis put on “I’d like to shake his hand. I might even give him a hug.” feels so purposeful. part of me wonders if that’s supposed to add some further hindsight horror to what happened in the park and then his prison interview. he says early that he found making little kids happy a fulfilling and rewarding part of his job as a character actor in the park, and we know other people found him charismatic enough to follow, not just because they were scared but bc he could have these moments of surface-level charm or rationality (the code, etc.)

idk, I just thought it felt a bit too one-off to read it as Just Some Guy. but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I could be wrong.

2. we never get any hint as to the identity of the warthog couple, right? I remember the FNG found their masks discarded outside the World Circus, they’re first mentioned in the book as hanging around/inside the circus, and the guy from the Dreamland Hotel interview talks about still getting postcards from them whenever he moves (scariest part of the whole book for me ngl), so we can assume they were walked out with the rest of the survivors. I just wasn’t sure if there was anything else to do with them that I missed.

I’m still thinking about the fact that they turned the Dreamland lobby into a torture theater. like… who was that for? just for them, or did they have an audience? probably not, right? since they weren’t affiliated with anyone? but still. also, who were they taking there, just people they could pick off???

hmm. I wonder if any casualties thought to be faction-related were actually theirs.

3. in Travis’s interview (the guy with the body camera), do we know who the girl is that they found in the crawlspace of the employee locker room? the one whispering “Mommy” over and over? there were enough survivors left that she could be someone we didn’t encounter before, but I just thought I’d check that there wasn’t some other interview where someone describes a girl running off to hide. the Anonymous shopgirl mentioned one of the girls disappeared during the cannon raid on Pirate turf with the Deadpool soldiers before they turned on each other, so I wondered if it could be her.

4. Brock in his interview mentions that Sam Garlieck’s people were terrorizing others during the power outage in the storm shelter, specifically mentioning an instance of sexual assault. does anyone else corroborate this in their interview? Adam Jakes sounds skeptical, saying his research would have turned that up by now, but the only people we really hear from about that period are Sam himself (obviously an unreliable narrator, like, duh) and Stuart Dietz, who mentioned that Sam definitely killed Maria Flynn. did anyone see any other mentions of this anywhere, or did we just move straight out of the storm shelters and never talk about them again once we get to the park? is this just Brock being an unreliable narrator himself to justify how things went down? (but then why would he need to be, when Bryce definitely died?? although he himself says that wasn’t as big a motivator as people writing about him want it to be, so maybe that’s moot)

5. not really a question just an observation: Stuart Dietz, the maintenance guy/Mole Man, is the only person to get two interviews in the entire novel. Not Sam, not Jill, not Brock. I don’t know, I just find that really interesting why he was selected to come back twice. I know part of it is to describe the botched demolition, but I’m also wondering what effect it has on the novel that the only person we hear from multiple times is an older dude from one of the pointedly non-aggressive factions.

6. in looking through posts already in the tag, I don’t quite follow some readers’ comments that there was an attempt at a “cell phones bad!!” message here. I feel like every time it’s come up, it’s been shown by Adam Jakes (author stand-in) to be minimizing what really happened and looking for an easy scapegoat. I don’t think that was part of the intended story at all, I think it’s just been stated over and over as people using an excuse to not think themselves capable of similar violence. just wanted to put that out there.

anyway. one of my favorite things about novels with multi-witness perspectives is finding threads that leave off in one person’s story and pick up in another, so I’m going through my digital copy and highlighting all the places two different interviews tie together (Austin’s fate, the guy who botched branding Adrienne as part of his Pirate initiation, etc.)

if anyone else has noticed anything interesting, I’m all ears 👀

[injaws]

jenna ortega, twenty-three, she/her   ⟡   —   is that ESMERALDA HEROUX i just saw walking around kilmer’s cove? i heard they’re a TOURIST who’s been here for TWO MONTHS. it slipped my mind, since they just tend to hang out at THE LIGHTHOUSE. at face value, they’re said to be INTELLIGENT and RESOURCEFUL, but i don’t know… some people have said they can be quite BLUNT and STANDOFFISH. just don’t get on their bad side, i guess! don’t tell them i told you this, but i’ve heard they DO  believe in all the ghost stories around town. who knows what the future holds for them! 

mention of child abandonment.+ disability (vision)

BASICS:

full name: esmeralda genesis heroux nickname(s): esme, es age: twenty-four gender: cis woman pronouns: she/her sexuality: bisexual biromantic date & place of birth: december 31 in el monte, california occupation: paleontology doctorate candidate & researcher at the tanya b. heady museum faceclaim: jenna ortega piercings: so many. six on each ear, a belly button piercing, and a nose stud traits: reserved, polite, observant, cynical, meticulous, blunt, curious, stoic similar to:  kat stratford (10 things i hate about you), prue halliwell (charmed), gayle weathers (scream), camilla saroyan (bones), monica geller (friends), nancy wheeler (stranger things), beca mitchell (pitch perfect) aesthetics: coffee with an ungodly amount of creamer, humming songs while cooking dinner, going outside at 3 am to look at the stars, accidental 5 hour long naps, an earbud always in one ear, an array of rings on each hand, bitten lips, over the ear headphones

BULLET POINTS:

— born as one of two twins. her parents, who didn't know they were having twins, gave her up because they didn't prepare for two children. -- esme, who had been born legally blind, was chosen to be the one given up — was fostered and later adopted by parents aksel and sarah heroux in manhattan, new york. — found her forever home with the two, later coming to have younger siblings of her own (her younger brother aleksei is very close to her heart and practically her best friend) — growing up she was always known as an “old soul” (read: autistic), and on account of both her disability and a personality that favored blunt (but observational) remarks, esme was teased a bit relentlessly — grew to be quite reserved and tightly wound as a defense mechanism, building strong armor in the form of poisonous words and evasiveness (no she will not process any of this please dni) — leant into books, music, film, and poetry to help her escape throughout the years and cherished the time she had with her family (homeschool kid ass energy…) — went to columbia to get her bachelor's in geology, and stayed to begin her doctorate program in paleontology — special interest in dinosaurs and yes it is ridiculously serious — applied to work at a research site in scotland (where dinosaurs actually effing existed), got sent to kilmer instead. not happy about it, only staying because she thinks the museum is actually quite cool — currently maybe getting a bit too curious about finding out what the fuck is happening in town/its history … maybe she should watch where she steps :O 

HEADCANONS:

— wears special glasses that correct the little vision she had – can now see pretty much 20/20 with them on, hates them and sometimes doesn't wear them — when not wearing their glasses usually uses a form of echolocation through little tongue clicks or snaps and wears sunglasses to cover her eyes (has very fun shapes i must say) — autistic special interest is dinosaurs. sleeps to dinosaur jungle asmr. please do not engage unless you want to have your ear talked off. ---  baby loves to cook. always trying new recipes & loves to host dinner parties. she did many a cooking classes as a kid. she also danced for a while, but uses it now more as stress relief than anything else. — always tired. 9/10 if she isn’t replying it’s because she’s sleeping. insane concealer budget — loves film and movies and thinking way too deep into them. her letterboxd goes crazy. that being said, their standards are questionable — big fan of animal crossing. terraforming beast. her sims house goes crazy — she has a black leopard gecko named honey, a black cat named milagro, and an array of fish, including a small leopard catshark named buddy. — collects bugs in amber as well as other small fossils — maximalist and has a bajillion stuffed animals — favorite season is winter — always wearing chunky boots — always cold — wicked sweet tooth — rides a motorcycle (her dad hates it she keeps giving him a heart attack) — never found without her cherry cola flavored vape <3

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

guh. check back l8r.

[haeseolar]

the gaze of the angels

guild hunter au - kinnporsche / archangel!kinn, hunter!porsche

rated G, 2.7k words

twitter

based on a scene from the first book in the guild hunter series, angels' blood. for context, angel's create and handle vampires as they work under them. porsche as a hunter tracks any unruly vamp who has escaped and brings them back to their 'owners', in this case, the arch/angels.

----

“Give me one good reason I should be talking to you on my day off.”

“Well, hello to you too, Porsche,” Arm, the director of the Hunter’s Guild, says, his voice no less sarcastic even through the phone line.

Porsche snorts, kicking off his boots into a heap by his front door. He’ll fix that later; right now, he has one thing on his mind: to relax.

“I’m waiting,” Porsche replies, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He’d never hang up on his best friend-cum-boss, but the temptation grows as he wanders into his apartment - his haven, his sanctuary - and feels in his gut that whatever Arm is about to tell him won’t be anything good.

“Well,” Arm begins and then goes so quiet Porsche has to check to make sure they’re still connected. “Your holiday is being cut sh-"

“No fucking way!” Porsche cuts him off, coming to stand in the middle of his kitchen.

The marble top island is more cluttered than he’d like it to be, but he’s been nonstop working for the past 3 weeks on one of the hardest hunts of his life. A rogue vampire had gone insane, slaughtering more people than he could count on his fingers. Despite being a crazy lunatic, the bastard had been smart, and led Porsche on a wild chase until he finally caught up and sent him back to his angel owner for her to deal with. He’d barely had time to sleep, let alone clean.

“Porsche,” Arm’s voice is hard - stoic and with no room to argue, taking the tone that the director of the Guild should have. This wasn’t a friendly chat - this was a business one through and through. “You’ve been requested.”

Porsche scoffs, “That’s nice, but -”

“By an archangel.”

Porsche feels his whole world go quiet. “It’s not April Fool’s Day, Arm,” He says shakily.

“I know, and I’d never joke about this, but…” Arm sighs, and it’s a frustrated one. “We’re between a rock and a hard place. I tried to deny his request and said you’re off duty for the foreseeable future, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Fucking archangels, Porsche thought, the voice inside his head spiteful. He’d never be able to say it out loud without dire consequences, but in the privacy of his own brain, he’ll curse them out as much as he wants. They’re selfish creatures, living in their high-rises to look down upon all mortals, ruling over the cities they claim as their own without a care in the world. As long as they’re happy, nothing else matters.

“What does he want?”

“They wouldn’t say. His lackeys who called up were very secretive, even with me,” Arm grumbles something under his breath with the same amount of disdain Porsche feels. The archangels are famously hard to work with. “I’m really sorry, and I will do all I can to make this up to you - but you have to meet him tomorrow.”

“Which one?” Porsche asks, mind going a hundred miles an hour. He went through all the ones he knew - the ones he’d already worked for. He’s had to clean up more of their messes than he can count, but of course, they do nothing but deposit a grand sum of money in his bank account and go about their day without even a simple thanks.

“Archangel Anakinn.”

The name cut off all of Porsche’s internal ramblings. That name had fear instilled into it, each letter dripping with the promise of death if you defied him. The archangel of Bangkok wasn’t exactly known for his niceties; even Porsche, who had fought rogue vampires twisted with bloodlust beyond any form of rationality, who stood up against anyone or anything not caring about the consequences, starts to feel anxiety creeping in.

“Fuck me,” Porsche let out, leaning against the counter to keep him up. His knees felt weak. “Let me guess, I’ve gotta go on my own, too?”

He could feel the wince through the phone as Arm answered, “Yep.”

Double fuck, Porsche curses. “Ping me the time and location.”

“Porsche -” Arm began, but Porsche hung up before he could finish, not in the mood to talk anymore.

He glances around his apartment, at the warm woods and white accents, at the trinkets and paintings spread around that he’d collected in his travels, and breathes in the scent of incense to try and ground himself. There’s no use in avoiding the inevitable, so he looks outside his window at the hotel situated opposite his apartment building. It towers above him, each window lit with shadows of activity behind them. It’s a building that never sleeps, with all sorts of goings on happening in the secrecy only immortals had the pleasure of knowing.

Porsche’s phone pinged with the details of his meeting for tomorrow.

Director Arm:

Tomorrow, Theerapanyakul’s Hotel, 09:00 am sharp.

Memorising the information immediately, Porsche knows that if he takes a few steps forward, he’ll be able to see the rooftop of the hotel - the Theerapanyakul’s Hotel. It doesn’t have any railing or safety bordering it, as there would be no point. It’s a landing and takeoff point for angels, and they could fly, their giant wings sprawling outwards so wide that even to this day, Porsche finds himself pausing whatever he was doing to stop and watch. He’d spent countless hours since he’d moved into this apartment spying on them, watching them come and go, equally fascinated as he was repulsed by their royalty in society.

Each angel had their own set of wings, and no two were the same. One pair had caught his attention the most out of all he’d seen, and he’d seen plenty at this point. Porsche recalls ones that were so wide that they had almost blocked out the entire sky, so dark in colour that it seemed as if a black hole had opened up in their place, if not for the red tips of the feathers that were visible even from so far away. Porsche has never met Archangel Anakinn - but he knows him. He’s seen him, watched him, studied him the best he could from afar as he admired each descent and take-off from flight, the beauty of his wings too tempting to look away from even for a second.

Porsche walks forward, eyes rising upwards until he can finally see the rooftop, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. To his dismay, the rooftop is empty, so instead he imagines what it’ll be like when he is up there tomorrow, and if he’d survive the meeting long enough to continue admiring the view of the angels he so frequently indulged in

-----

“Alright, alright! I get it, no need to push,” Porsche says, wrenching his shoulder away from a heavy-handed vampire. 

The impudent thing just glares at him, his fangs poking out, just begging for the hunter to act up within the hotel. Everyone knows that you behave when in a general radius of an archangel, let alone when you’re in one’s territory. The vampire looks young, but the smell radiating off of him could only mean age - and Porsche doesn’t mean a few years, but hundreds. He looks overly serious, with his perfect ponytail and miserable atmosphere, which only makes Porsche want to prod at him even more to see if he can get a reaction out of him instead.

“Get in.” The vampire orders, shoving Porsche into an open elevator. 

“Does your boss not teach you any manners?” Porsche mutters under his breath, nose scrunching up in distaste at the vampire’s scent now clinging to him. 

Each one smells different, much like each angel’s wings - it’s part of their DNA, their defining feature. This one smells sour, his scent warped with internal rage and something sad, almost as if he’s left it so long that it’s gone off, twisted and rotten. It’s clear that he hates Porsche, so much so that it’s leaking out of every pore.

“What did you say, guild hunter?” The vampire snaps, eyes narrowed in malice.

“I said, did your boss not teach you any manners?” Porsche repeats, enunciating each word clearly, not caring about the consequences. 

“Why, you -” The vampire begins through gritted teeth until the elevator doors open and let in a gust of wind so strong it threatens to knock him off balance.

Porsche blinks, his eyes drying out immediately as he takes in the scene before him. He hadn’t even noticed they’d made it to the top, caught up in the brewing fight. The vampire grabs his arm, dragging him out and practically throwing him forward. Porsche’s senses are all going off, each one struggling to acclimate to a slew of incoming smells, sounds, and feelings. 

“Khun Kinn, he’s arrived.”

“Thank you, Big. You may go,” A voice replies, so smooth and luxurious that Porsche’s stomach clenches. 

He watches as the vampire - or Big, he supposes - bows and takes his leave, looking like nothing more than a trained puppy in front of his master. Porsche holds back the urge to sneer, but he reigns it in.

 

Even though he’s completely open out here, the wind is strong and loud, it’s warmer than he expected, the sun shining directly into his eyes. He squints, trying to gather his bearings as he looks out across the expanse of the roof, focusing on a shadowy figure at the opposite end. Even without fully seeing him - Porsche knows who it is. 

Archangel Anakinn.

There’s no doubt in his mind, no second guesses, as his mere aura alone is enough to suffice. The great span of his wings flutters, rising and blocking out the harsh glare of the sun, bringing everything back into focus. Porsche blinks, black spots dotting around his vision as he adjusts until he can finally see who he is truly facing.

His breath catches in his throat, eyes widening without his permission as he takes in the archangel. Anakinn’s hair is perfectly styled, not a hair out of place except the purposely left-out strand that catches on his eyelashes, even with the harsh winds that are whipping Porsche’s clothing and hair around relentlessly. It’s as if the earth has stopped moving, stopped existing, covering Anakinn in an eternal peace where he’s untouchable. Porsche’s eyes carry on moving, desperate and wanting to take the man in. They follow his masculine brow bone and down the gentle slope of his nose, cataloguing each mole and curve, straight angle and harsh cut of his jawline. 

Even hidden, Porsche can sense the sheer amount of strength hidden within his body. It’s not all physical, although he doesn’t doubt that he is just as strong in that sense as he is in any other, but the archangel naturally exudes such a vibe that Porsche feels dizzy. Anakinn’s clothes are simple - a white shirt that stands out starkly against his black wings and is open enough to show off the cut of his pecs, along with a pair of tight slacks. He mustn’t feel the chill, either, as any sensible person would at least wear a jacket up here.

 

Porsche’s eyes flicker back up to meet Anakinn’s, and where they are a natural brown colour, there’s nothing normal about them. It isn’t just one shade, but hundreds, maybe even thousands, that meld and entwine amongst each other in his irises, glowing almost golden with how rich they are that Porsche fears if he looks for too long, he will lose himself forever amongst them. 

“Done looking, Hunter Porsche?”

Porsche visibly jolts at the address, shuddering back into reality as he snaps out of whatever daze he is in.

“It’s not often I find myself face-to-face with an archangel,” Porsche retorts, willing the heat on his cheeks at being caught to fade away.

Anakinn smiles, barely a tilt of his lips, and yet Porsche feels he’s being treated like a child. It’s humouring - demeaning - like the angel opposite him sees him as nothing more than a toy to entertain himself with. It wouldn’t surprise him if that’s exactly what was happening, but it pisses him off either way. 

“We’re a private bunch,” Anakinn replies simply, gesturing to the table to the side. Porsche follows his hand to the breakfast spread laid out for them. “Shall we have something to eat, and then begin?”

Porsche shrugs, too stiff to be casual, but it at least forces his muscles to loosen, “Sure.”

Anakinn waits until Porsche moves first, and even with his back turned, he can feel eyes following him with each step. Before he can drag a seat out for himself, Anakinn asks from right behind him:

“Did Big treat you well on your way up?”

Porsche spins around, not having felt or heard anyone creep up on him. His heart is in his throat, his hand on the knife that was hidden in his jacket sleeve, the blade peaking out as he’s ready to attack. It’s lucky he just about caught himself from stabbing the archangel, too on edge from nerves.

Anakinn glances down, catching sight of the knife, “I see you weren’t checked for weapons.”

“I was,” Porsche replies instantly, and even though it’s delayed, he finally gets a waft of the archangel’s scent. His mouth waters - it’s not like anything he’s smelled before. It’s sensual, sweet, and musky - cloying and addictive. “Your people just underestimated me.”

“Oh?” Anakinn’s eyebrow raises, and it’s so unfairly attractive that Porsche feels a pulse of violence rise in him. “I assure you, no one in this building would dare do such a thing.”

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Porsche says cuttingly, sliding the blade back into its rightful place. “I know you chose me for a reason, and I’m damn good at my job, whatever it may be.”

Anakinn hums, eyes appraising as they trace over his face and down his body, and back up again. Each bit they cover leaves hot trails behind, burning his skin even through layers of clothes. “What if I wanted to flatter you?”

Porsche’s heart seizes, his throat clicking as he swallows. “Just add a couple thousand onto my pay check, and we’d be good.”

Anakinn steps closer, boxing Porsche in, pushing his lower back into the chair behind him. It digs in at an uncomfortable angle, precariously balanced on something that could move and leave him unmoored and unstable in his stance. Their chests are almost touching, and Anakinn’s scent gets stronger, sweeter, and more enticing. Porsche can see Anakinn’s wings out of his peripherals, and the feathers look even softer than he could’ve ever imagined. He wants to reach out and touch, but he doesn’t dare.

“Only a couple thousand, hunter?” Anakinn tilts his head to the side, deceptively innocent, “I think you’re worth more than that.”

“You haven’t even tried me yet,” Porsche replies, and he’s not sure what he’s talking about - whether it’s the hunt he’s about to be debriefed on, or something else. Even worse, he’s not sure which one he’d rather be discussing.

“We can change that,” Anakinn says, voice low, words rich and honeyed, as his eyes drop to Porsche’s lips. 

They linger, only for a moment, and then they’re gone, along with Anakinn’s presence. Porsche gasps in shock, turning back around to face the table, where the archangel is now sitting down, poised as if he’s on a throne and not a garden chair. 

“So, you’re not a cheap worker, hm?” 

Porsche drags his seat out, watching as the screeching sound of the metal against the concrete doesn’t make the man flinch. He flops down onto it, relishing in the plush softness of the cushion beneath him. 

Folding his arms over his chest, Porsche replies: “I’ll rinse you dry, but I’m worth every penny.”

Anakinn’s eyes search him again, this time more intense, not even bothering to hide the roaring desire and attraction in them. “Then I suppose I look forward to working with you, Hunter Porsche.”

Porsche smirks, shifting in his seat, leaning into the warm bubbling sensation caressing his skin at such a gaze directed at him, the base of his spine tingling with it. He can’t wait to see what Archangel Anakinn has in store for him.

[godesssiri]

Thrifting antiques and valuable vintage.

I have an 8 foot high shelf in my living room. It’s huge and it’s packed full of gorgeous goodies. I would estimate that there’s easily $10,000 on those shelves – a grand a shelf + a bit extra because I have a pair of stupidly valuable vases that I could sell for $3000. Have I actually spent that much to acquire those items? Hahahahahahahahahahaha! No. I’m not rich, what I am is a dedicated thrifter who has learned to pick the treasures from the trash. Here are my best tips:

1.Pick things up, turn them over, look for maker’s marks, snap a pic and do a google image search, with a lot of them you can narrow down when something was made to a 10-20 year time-frame. Is the item heavier than you were expecting? Antiques are often heavier than new productions because they’re using better quality materiel or just more of the materiel because it was cheaper back then. Look for signs of wear, has the paint or plating rubbed off over time? Unless you like that look steer clear of really worn items, the fact they’re so worn detracts from the value and indicates they weren’t that high quality to begin with. You can learn and awful lot just by picking something up off the shelf.

2. Hand painted items. The stupidly valuable vases? Are exquisitely hand-painted. I got them for 30 bucks and almost had a heart attack when I did a google image search. I’ve got several hand painted things that I’ve picked up for cheap and could easily sell for 10 x what I paid for them. Look for fine painting, things that are intricate and detailed, not blobby. There is a HUGE collector’s market for hand-painted Chinese export porcelain that's over about 50 years old at least.

3. Antique books. A lot of people don’t place value on old books and tragically A LOT get thrown in the trash or cut up by crafters (if you are an artist who uses old books in your work, I’m BEGGING you to look at the publication date before you cut the pages out unless it’s already so damaged there’s no saving it). Anything pre-1950 there’s a collector’s market. Anything over 100 years old is officially antique and is a treasure. I have 3 books that were published in the 1700s and the most I’ve paid was $50, one of them I got for $10 – because the sellers didn’t bother to google the title and author and figure out exactly how old the book was. Since at least the early 1800s most books have had the publication date printed right there in the front so it’s super easy to figure out if the book in your hand with a 50-cent price tag is a genuine antique.

4. Pairs. Things are always more valuable as a pair. So, if you have the chance to buy a pair grab them. The stupidly valuable vases are more valuable as a pair – a single sells for $1000. Or if something was once part of a pair and there’s a chance of you coming across another one then it’s well worth it to make a new pair. I will always grab a single foo-dog/temple-lion because I have made up pairs from 2 singles and it instantly increases the value. The same goes for sets of things. I’m slowly putting together a set of 6 Libby cactus margarita glasses and when I have a full set I’ll probably sell them because I need the space and I have other glasses I like better – but I won’t sell until I find number 6 (I’ve got 5 and it’s driving me insane waiting to find the last one) because an even numbered set is worth so much more than an odd number.

5. Solid brass. See above re. picking things up and feeling for the weight. Solid brass is a lot heavier than hollow and is worth a whole lot more. Next time you’re in a thrift store and there’s a bunch of brass pick up different things and feel the difference in weight, you’ll find a huge variance between similarly sized items. The heavier ones also tend to have finer details which is another indicator and quality and value – not always but most of the time.

6. Details. Speaking of fine detail, up until fairly recently the more finely detailed something was the harder it was to manufacture, therefore the higher quality it was, so always keep an eye on the details. Look at how anything that came from a mold is shaped – are the details sharp and clear or are they a bit blurred and blobby, does it have a visible seem? If something is carved is the carving detailed and smooth or chunky and rough? If something is jointed together, are the joins tight and straight or is there a gap or a crooked join? Look closely and see how things have been made. Good quality is easy to spot when you look closely.

7. Be prepared to pay up. Sometimes you’ll come across things that are pricey by thrift store standards but they’re still a fraction of what the item is actually worth. I have a malachite trinket box. I paid $45 for it and was hesitant to spend that much. But I looked it up and similarly sized boxes brand new are about $150. I’d always wanted a malachite box but there’s no way I’m ever gonna spend $150 on one. But $45? That fits into my discretionary budget for something I’d always wanted. I love Majolica pottery, but it is very very expensive so when I’m able to thrift it I’m willing to pay up – thrift store prices are still just a fraction of antique store prices even when they know they’ve got something special and have priced it on the higher side. And I have picked up some incredible bargains, like a plate for $10, when most of the plates in the store were in the $1-$5 range, but if they’d slapped a $20 price-tag on it then it still would have been a bargain because the same plate from and antique dealer would have cost me $50.

8. Know what you’re looking for. If you love a certain type of antique or vintage collectable, then research research research. Create a pintrest board and pin 10 zillion examples of that that thing until you can identify one in the wild just by a 2 second glance. Read up about when and where it was manufactured. If you see it in antique stores for way more than you’re willing/able to pay still go looking because seeing it in person helps you to learn what to look for when you’re thrifting. Look at listings online and read the descriptions, follow online auctions to see what it goes for, so you know when you find it and it’s way under-value, or maybe there won't be many bidders and you can score a bargain. You can search for things on Ebay then sort by sold listings and that’ll tell you what collectors are actually willing to pay so you can make a realistic offer to a dealer who has it way overpriced. I research a lot, and I know to swoop on a Victorian Bristol glass vase for $7 because it’s actually worth $50, or a Famille Rose vase for $5 when it’s worth $80 (I have a vase addiction OK? I’m aware of it, I have no interest in seeking treatment for it).

9. Search specifically and also search broadly. When you’re looking online it’s great to enter very specific search terms because even if you don’t find things you can afford, you’ll learn a lot. And sometimes you do find exactly what you’re looking for at a reasonable price. If you’re willing to put in the time, it’s also well worth it to keep your search terms very broad. One of the antiques I love is Chinese export Famille Rose porcelain. Yesterday I literally just typed ‘Chinese’ into FB Marketplace and scrolled through hundreds of listings because I figured if there was someone out there who didn’t know exactly what it was, they would at least be able to tell it was Chinese and they might have it listed as ‘Chinese porcelain’ or ‘Chinese figure’ or one I found was ‘Weird little Chinese dude’. I currently have 4 figurines on their way to me that are worth about $200 all up and I spent less than $40 including shipping – yes, I bought the weird little dude. I’ll often just type in ‘Antique’ and set a range of how far I’m willing to drive and just see what cool old stuff is available in that range – often people don’t know what they’ve got but they know it’s old so they list it as antique and you can pick up ridiculous bargains cause they don’t see the value in the item and just want it gone but want a few bucks for it.

10. Pick what you love. In the end it doesn’t matter if something is incredibly valuable if you think it’s ugly. I keep the stupidly valuable vases because I love them and enjoy looking at them on my shelf. I could flip them for a profit and if the day ever came that I really needed to then I would. But it didn’t cost me much to have that beauty in my life and I’m gonna keep it until I’m good and ready to let it go. The more you indulge your own tastes the more discerning you become and the more you’re able to spot treasure in the trash. My favorite aisle in my favorite thrift store is the one where the staff shove items that they think are rubbish. I’ve picked easily a thousand dollars worth of antiques from that aisle in the last year alone because they were things that I liked – things that made me go: Ooh that’s something special.

[quillkiller]

Do you like regulus?

i have a love hate relationship with regulus…. i love him as a he/him lesbian who doesn’t care about or understand gender but he still can’t shake the desire for traditional marriage values and stability. i love regulus in m/f regtunia where it’s enough of a rebellion for them to reject their beginnings, but they won’t rebel like lily or sirius. they want to budget together and have a little house and they want to kiss. i love regulus who’s insane by association, but he himself is boring and a little unspecial. i love regulus who’s gigantic lily’s tiny he/him girlfriend. i love canon regulus in my version of bartylus where they’re just teenage boys together. i love regulus who’ll always be sirius’ sibling no matter what universe he’s in and no matter what their relationship is

i’m not a jegulus shipper because the mainstream concept of them doesn’t interest me and makes me feel a little icky. if you’re a (mainly) jeggy blog that i follow then it’s because i do like jegulus, and your version has captivated me body and soul <3 i’m not immune to lesbian jegulus either. overall tho jegulus is the least interesting regulus ship to me! i reblogged a very good post about exactly why only yesterday which you can read here. i also don’t tend to like him with the marauders. it doesn’t interest me that he would befriend them by default by dating james and i think his own relationships and friendships are far more interesting. i also think regulus’ and sirius’ relationship is far more interesting when they don’t share a friend group. i’m not personally a fan of the skittles and the marauders sort of. mixing together. i don’t think it would be good for either of the black brothers and it’s them that interest me the most. i don’t tend to like the idea james has to juggle both black brothers if there was to be conflicts between them (which there will be) because to me james would always choose sirius

i also don’t, personally, like this whole martyr esque characterization he’s gotten. as if he’s always been haunting the narrative in the harry potter books. i think he’s a little loser who canonically had voldy posters on his walls, and to me his sacrifice wasn’t because he even changed. to me that was for his brother and his brother only. i don’t like the hc that he was forced, had a secret plan, or was always good. i like my regulus confused and fucked up and loyal to the bone. i like him in his own orbit, failing massively at navigating through life and wants and desires and musts

so. i love the regulus who lives in my mind and i love my mutuals regulus!! i don’t tend to like the general opinion of him in the marauders fandom