#○ ☆. ✦ isms. › you are so silent about everything .

[dnpbeats]

so much about why dan loves phil and how phil changed him but what about how phil loves dan??

Okay. When I first read this ask I was like "I got nothing" lol. now obviously not because I think phil doesn't love dan, clearly I believe that he does. but you'll notice that everything I said in my dan loving gremlin phil post was based on things that dan has said. and when it comes to phil, that man is SILENT!! he keeps his mouth shut. so I was like I have nothing to extrapolate from here. but! then I realized that's not true!! bc I think phil is very obvious with his actions!

and honestly just the fact that phil lets us see how much he loves dan through his actions speaks volumes in and of itself. because phil has said so many times that he's a private person, wants to keep any relationship he has private, etc., and I think he's proved that he's serious about that based on the fact that he hasn't said jack shit about dan in the way that dan has said stuff about him.

and yet, phil SHOWS so much how he cares for dan!!! and he says things that allow us to read between the lines! like phil buying the japan tickets and surprising dan with them in 2015. we know that dan is not an impulsive person at all and likes everything to be meticulously planned out. phil knew dan was never gonna bite the bullet so phil was just like "well this is a thing that's happening now" (see also: 2009, phil telling dan to buy tickets to come visit him for the first time and 2023, phil making dan come back to the gaming channel because he knew it would be enjoyable for him again). he just knows dan so well and loves him sm that he doesn't let dan stand in the way of his own happiness. and even though phil is private he allows us see how much he cares for dan, he doesn't try to hide it at all

and then just things like. phil telling the bbc he wanted dan to do the radio show with him. phil calling dan up on stage at the boncas. phil just randomly mentioning dan on his channel(/having dan be there) while giving no context bc at this point he expects everyone to just Know who dan is. phil talking about how proud he is of dan and his book at the end of the hair cutting video bc he knew dan wouldn't let him get away with saying that shit in front of him but he just had to say it.

okay and in terms how dan has changed him/bettered him. I do not think phil was necessarily an unconfident person/struggled in the same way dan did but like obviously everyone is gonna have their own insecurities. but I really truly believe that dan just, lets phil be phil. I was rewatching some of the ditl videos the other day, and in the manchester ditl there's the iconic "phil's in his own little world again" with the fondest laugh ever. but then! london ditl, dan saying yes phil should go climb on the lion and then filming him running over to it (and then being annoyed at the guy who told phil to get off LMAO). japan ditl dan telling phil to go run over towards the bird. do you catch my drift? like phil's a lil quirky but dan doesn't love him in spite of it he loves him because of it!! he encourages phil's phil-isms bc he loves them! and then also just little things like when phil swallowed the glue and dan knew he was anxious so he talked with the paramedic and then texted phil everything that they said and that he was gonna be fine!! I think dan is probably a voice of reassurance for phil a lot. like they just both know each other so well and they know exactly what the other needs, yk?

sorry that I let this sit in my ask box for almost a week anon I just had a lot of thoughts to collect but yeah <3 that's all

[ysomtt]

⚜ THE ROSE IN THE TORN ⚜

⚜ OC X CARDINAL MARIO ASSENTE ⚜

A/N: Hello! I just fineshed watching The New Pope with my mother and oh my gods I LOVE CARDINAL ASSENTE SO MUCH!! He is so iconic it hurts! So i thought that maybe i should write an oc fic, i mean it can be read as reader if you use a word replacer so i thought of posting it here! There may be other chapters in the future but i dont know... A big thank you to @assente-ism and @cardinal-assente for feeding me in this trying times!

AO3

Lucian was a strange priest.

Tall, dark and handsome. Raised in the Vatican by his devoted mother and his barely there father.

It was clear that he was beautiful. His dark curly hair and black soulless eyes were a trap for most and a bother to other.

He was a homosexual. That he couldn't deny. He had this aura about him, nothing to do with his small stature and feminine figure, but everything to do with his long lashes. Those lashes… That was a trap for the most courageous of man and he knew how to use them. He would bat those pretty things at some cardinal or bishop and all his troubles would go away. He liked them very much.

His shoes were always pristine and his cassock sported a belt that was one size too small, and if someone asked he would deny it, but he liked to wear a corset underneath it. We all have quirks…

And his biggest quirk was his way of talking. He was smooth and sensual when needed but cold and unnerving when alone. The poor nuns were often the ones to receive his cold speech, not because he hated them like they tended to think, but because he felt like he could be himself around them, something he did less and less.

He liked the chase more then the catch. The slow seduction of a confuse and pent up strait member of the clergy was like heaven to him. And after, if they refused to do what he said he would just fuck them into submission. By doing that he came to know many things about many people and he liked that very much! So, in his down time research was his greatest company. Just him and that old and worn out laptop he promised himself he would fix someday.

However, one priest always made him nervous, Leopold Essence, the mystery of the Vatican. He knew nothing of the man, and that is what made them get close. He was a lost puppy when it came to Father Leopold. Always following him around and looking for his approval.

A quick fuck wasn't enough for Essence. He was always something more. Handcuffs, leashes, blindfolds were vanilla to him, and Lucian liked that very much…

He became his little lap dog. Always around, always watching, always silent…

But when the moment came for Essence to leave he was back with his previous antics.

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Children loved him. Especially teenagers, it was like he understood them a little better. Always putting up a mask to the public to disguise the cringe fest they were underneath. So his mornings were filled with kids going to school trying to get his attention. He just smiled and were polite with them and their parents.

And for someone who hated children, Cardinal Mario Assente was sure alluring to them. It was too funny. To watch in the shadows as a child or another went to him for a 'hello' or something. His forced smile at that small coffee shop was hilarious to see, but even more hilarious was his hurried step when a group of school kids passed by him waving and cheering to get his attention.

Lucian loved him.

Not romantic love. No. A more deeper obsession, not unlike what he felt for Essence. He was charmed by him. And he knew everything about him.

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The Vatican gardens were really the heart of the city. And a particular spot was Lucian's favorite. A small rock behind a hedge, as far away from the people as possible. But this spot wasn't just his favorite but was Assente's too. His place for his escapades. Were he brought from innocent looking boys to domineering heavy looking man. Lucian wished it was him.

"You are on my spot dear." speaking of the devil. He turned and batted those big eyelashes he was so found of. "Cardinal Assente! How wonderful to see you!" Assente walks closer to him noticing he was trying to act coy. "How wonderful indeed…" he stayed there for a moment before turning and walking away.

Lucian hated him.

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His steps were silent at night, like a cat's paw. And, just like a cat at night he had a target. The Secretary of State's office. And he had a perfectly good cause. He wanted to fuck Cardinal Assente.

But as he, as silent as ever, opened the door he was graced with the most wonderful image. Cardinal Assente on his knees with Don Luigi Cavallo's cock between his lips and a rosary between his hands. How cute…

He giggled.

And with a noise they both turned to him. "Care to join Father?" Cavallo spoke after a couple of seconds. He just giggled again. "I prefer to have him tied up by myself father." "Very well my dear."

He closed the door and left just as silent as he came in hoping that hey learn to lock the door next time.

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He also loved his mother. He loved her very much, but sometimes he wished she had had more sons.

"You have to get out of there if you don't want to be a priest anymore." "Mother i love being a priest…" "You love being a slut!" "Mother!" She was a direct and strict woman that didn't take bullshit from anyone.

"Listen, i know you love God and all, but you can serve him other ways." "No mom. I love being a priest, i really do, but i am still young…" She smiled and grabbed his hands. "No wonder you are so miserable all the time. You want so much and gives too little." She was right, she was always right.

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The man across the bar was also a priest but the wink he threw his way was nothing but unholy. Marcus was his name he thought. An ordinary priest, nothing special at all. So he went home with him.

The night was good. Nothing to write home to his sisters. Nothing to note at all… But he liked it. Vanilla sex was good every now and then. But it was not what he wanted right now. Not since he saw that scene at the office. He wanted to tie Assente to the ceiling and leave him there until he begged to stop. Until he was screaming the safe word.

He never thought he would be thinking this way. He was the twink, the Vatican slut, he wasn't a controlling dom… That asshole got the worst of him.

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Lucian had a good phone. He liked to seem young and modern to the general public. it was one of those fancy flip phones that just launched. It was a gift from a Bishop, he didn't remember their name. The case was light purple and there was a small charm of a pickle jar he got from a four year old somewhere. But he liked it. He thought it made him seem innocent and cute. Just an innocent little priest that loves children and pickles! Nothing to see here!

His life was a fantasy that took a very long time to maintain.

"Where did you find this one?" His sister motioned to Marcus who was in a line to buy them coffee. "I don't remember. Maybe he was here for a while?" he said looking up from his phone. "No… That was the one with the eye-patch…" "Then maybe at mass?" "Probably…"

He had 4 sisters. Older sisters. He was the baby, the favorite. And after all except one of his sisters moved on with their husbands his relationship with his only left sister really elevated. Her name was Marie. The oldest one. Fake blond hair fall into her shoulder as she leaned to whisper to him. "I think he is cute for a priest." "I think you are insane." he chuckled.

She was single with a child at home. Her husband was 6 feet under, to her pleasure. She hated him. And everyone that hurt his family had to go.

"I am not sleeping with him." He lied "You are a good liar." she nodded.

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Looking in the mirror wasn't something he usually did. He had gained weight. A little pudgy thing at the bottom of his belly. He squished between his hands and found the feeling quite pleasant. If he wanted, or was needed, he could always tighlace his corset a little bit more.

Leopold didn't mind. As soon as he arrived in the Vatican the two of them were back to their old ways.

But Lucian wasn't the same. Not after spending nights and nights with his hands between his legs picturing Cardinal Assente screaming and begging. No, he didn't want to be the same…

Leopold didn't care. He found it amusing, in his strange way. He taught him things. How to tie a good knot, how to torture someone just right… Lucian liked that new version of him.

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He had a soft spot for nuns.

Being raised by women he felt more comfortable around them. So when old Sister Amelia fell ill he was extremely distraught, and when her only wish was to see the sea he wanted to help.

So he found himself in front of Monsignor Cavallo's office. Voiello saw right through him, but Monsignor Cavallo… well, he could be persuaded.

"Monsignor? May i come in?" He batted those pretty eyelashes at him and he melted.

"My son, what can i do for you?" "I need some funding for a friend of mine, she is dying and her only wish is to go out at sea… The sisters have joined together to help but we don't have much…"

Cavallo looked him up and down before nodding "Poor thing, i will talk to Cardinal Voiello for you sweet child." he smiled "Thank you so much Monsignor! I really appreciated it!" he then leaned over the table to see on the other side "Hello Cardinal Assente!" He giggled as he found Assente knelled behind the desk, a deep flush on his cheek. Lucian loved him even more.

"You would look delightful besides him…" Cavallo's hand came to his face caressing his bottom lip. He smiled trying to act coy "Thank you Monsignor, but maybe another time. I have to tell the sisters the good news!" "I havent got an answer yet darling…" "I belive in you…" Lucian winked before leaving the room.

He wanted Cavallo dead.

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The click-clack of his father's cane was ingrained in his memory, and when he visited home he dreaded to hear them. They had never been close. He didn't even knew his father's full name, or did he? He didn't care to remember.

His father had been proud of him when he decided to become a priest. Said it would make a man out of him. Poor man…

In his birthday the family would get together in their little Vatican home and share a simple orange cake. Without candles. They were never allowed to blow out candles. His father thought inappropriate for a boy to be this childish…

So, on his 13th birthday he had sneaked off to his father's friend house and gave him a blowjob in his marital bed. That had been his biggest memory growing up.

That had destroyed him.

He was scared of the man for a couple of years. Why? He didn't know. Didn't care to know.

At his funeral he made sure to be involved. He had recently been ordained and it was his first funeral. First and last.

So when the news of his father's passing, only days after his birthday, came he couldn't help but be… sad…

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"I've wanted you for so long…" Monsignor Cavallo's kisses on his neck were grounding in a way. They kept his hatred for him alive, but he had to thank him. He had managed to gift him a cruise for poor sister Amelia and he had appearances to maintain.

So he gladly oppened his legs and made sure to moan a little louder than usual.

He hasn't seen his dear Assente recently, he had looked for him, looked everywhere. It was like he was running from him.

So if he grabbed Cavallo's hair a little too tight while picturing his dear lover, well, who could blame him?

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He never spoke Italian. Not even once.

His mother was from the USA and his father from Kenya so his mother tongue has always been English. Even at school he insisted on speaking English to the displeasure of his teachers.

His friends were few and his loneliness was perceptive to everyone who bothered to pay attention. But he didn't mind. Not anymore.

Now he wasn't lonely anymore. His beauty had given him too many admires and his days were filed with talk and company.

So finding time alone to go out of his way to look for Cardinal Assente was a difficult task.

After days without seeing him were torture for him. He knew that hes position as secretary of state made him busy, but he didn't care. He wanted, and he always got what he wanted.

He didn't dare to look for him in his office for fear of finding him with Monsignor Cavallo which would make his day a little worst, he didn't want that. But sometimes anger was necessary.

So he found himself at his knees sucking Cavallo's cock like it was candy for answers. When he finished he made sure to give Lucian's face a little slap which made him laugh, pathetic.

"What could you want from me for such a beautiful display…" "I have some documents for Cardinal Assente to sign but i cant seem to find him… Monsignor Alexander is in my back for those and i cant get a hold of him!" Cavallo just laughed "Elusive like a snake hm? Are you sure you just want some signed papers from him?" "For now Monsignor…" They both chuckled.

"I will have him look for you tomorow…" "Oh thank you so much!" he gave him a few kisses to his face.

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"You are a noisy little thing aren't you?" That was the greeting he got from his love. Why couldn't he give him what he wanted and be done with it? "I don't know what you are talking about Eminence" He innocently handed Assente some documents he had Essence forge for him.

Assente just blindly signed them and handed back to him before turning to leave but not before Lucian grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a wall for privacy. "You know i want you…" he looked up at him, he was so tall…

"You are not exactly someone i go after." Assente pulled his arm free. "I can be! Please…" Assente sighs and fixed his cassock looking away. "If i suck your cock will you leave me alone?" "No. I want to please you…" "I doubt you can-" "I can try!" Assente shook his head with a smirk.

"Little boy you wouldn't know what to do with me…" he smirked and leaned forward "I can try…" Lucian tried to muster every seductive bone in his body by setting his arm in Assente's waist. "Poor little thing…" Assente just grabbed him by his cheeks before giving him a small peck on his lips and turning to walk away.

Lucian loved him.

[crispy-kiss]

MYSTICAL FEST 2025 🇧🇷

Mystical Fest happened a few days ago and I can't get it out of my head. It was life changing experience and I already miss all of them — especially Közi — so badly. We had MAYOHK, Kaya and Hizaki (ft. CERO too!), Közi solo and Schwartz Stein. plus a little meet&greet!

About the meet&greet, my only regrets are that everything was way too quick, and I couldn't say everything I wanted to Közi because I was so damn nervous 😭. Basically, they were all lined up and you had to do the hi-touch with all of them. Közi was right in the middle, with a chair in front of him so the fans could sit and take a pic afterwards.

I took my gekka Közi doll with me, ans while I did the hi-touch with the other guys, Közi kept looking at it. Now I regret not having given it to him AaAaAa maybe next time! Anyway, when I did the hi-touch with him, I accidentally did it too hard and he was surprised, he did a little "WoOoOoh!" and I thanked him for coming — in English, because any japanese that may exist in my heard disappeared the moment I saw him so close to me.

Közi is SO small, so tiny. He was wearing platforms shoes, but still we we're basically the same height — I was wearing regular boots, no heels. — he's really that tiny, I can't tell exactly but he absolutely isn't taller than 5'5. His shoulders are small and he's really thin, you can notice that even with his baggy clothes. He has so much hair, and it actually looked very fluffy. His hands are just a little bigger than mine. Cute as hell, I could just die in front of him 💔. He's the prettiest man I've ever seen.

After the photo, I went to the merch table and got a bunch of MAYOHK stuff: C'est Si Bon CD, pixel közi keychain, chekis, and a got acrylic. Other than that, I also got an autographed poster. The chekis were sadly all random! But the kind clerk helped me to pull Közi ^_^

Ok, the show started with MAYOHK, they're so fucking cool. The only songs I had already listened to were SEXY MUSIC and Donuts because of Közi's FC, but they still surprised me! They're amazing, Hora's vocals are so appealing and Közi's voice is so stable, he was doing high notes so easily even though he was a bit sick of his throat this week. It was also beautiful because even though almost everyone there was hearing the songs for the first time, in SEXY MUSIC everyone learned the lyrics midsong and were singing along with Közi! You could see in his eyes how happy he was. He brought a tiny cute pink guitar to play during C'est Si Bon, I couldn't believe I was seeing him playing right in front of my eyes. After that, MAYOHK is the only thing I've been listening to these past few days.

Közi's solo began right after Kaya and Hizaki finished playing. He said "Good Night" in portuguese and ILLUMINATI started playing, the crowd went wild, It was an indescribable feeling to hear everyone screaming the lyrics, and I think that was when it hit me that I was really seeing him, the Közi from Malice Mizer.

It was really funny, at the end of the song his microphone stopped working (maybe because he wouldn't stop fooling around with it) and he looked PISSED as hell bv the staff was kinda slow to come help him, lol. When a guy finally came to help, he looked at us like this "🤷🙄" and the show kept going. After ILLUMINATI, we had ISM (Hora mix) and I couldn't stop screaming. Seriously, I screamed so much that I still have a sore throat. Then we had Ju te veux, Dans erebos, Color Me Blood Red, and of course, his muse: Honey Vanity. He sang the Retromantics mix and it was the most beautiful thing i've ever heard. The crowd didn't went silent for a second, we were shouting and screaming the whooooole time! As soon as it was over, we started chanting "Közi eu te amooo" (Közi I love you) mutiple times and he did a cute little dance before foing back to the backstage.

After Schwarz Stein was done, they all came back to the stage with the Brazil flag and played Au Revoir. Közi was the one who stayed on stage with us the longest and sang some parts, while playing with his little guitar and fooling around with Hora. Hizaki came to hug the audience and I just happened to be in front of him, so my face went on his boobs LOL.

When the show was definitely over, we waited at the exit of the venue to say goodbye to them, they came out without makeup, wearing masks (Közi was wearing glasses too!) and as soon as he got into the van, we could see through the window that the first thing he did was grab a can of alcohol to drink. <3

That's it. At the end of it all, it was almost 7 hours of standing straight, but I didn't even feel the time passing, I could have stayed in that moment all night. It was the best day of my life, I was able to finally meet irl many of my friends and I saw my literal God, Közi. I hope he comes again soon! I will post more photos and videos + mayohk lyrics

Also! these were some of my presents to him:

[elytrafemme]

blinks at u if u feel so inclined. tho idk if the irl-ism will interfere with the visual imagination

the difficult thing about this is like, kinda as you said, i can't really visualize distinct locations because i'm just thinking about my favorite places i've been with you. there are a few specific ones i'm thinking about i guess but, whatever.

you're a cityscape sorry but like, yeah i wasn't going to picture you as a fucking farm now was i. we're outside in the city though we're not going inside anywhere. there is a significant number of cats out here, they're large and they're sleeping in front of the doors of buildings, one or two (some are doing the cat thing where they cuddle and their fur overlaps and you can't tell which is which?) per each building. all of them are orange, or tortoiseshell, or calico. all of the people around are shadows-- very characteristic shadows, like they aren't scary or anything, it's just now what's most important. so they're moving to and flow like particularly strong winds. also, it's cold, thanks for that asshole (it's not that bad.)

there's music hanging over everything like a cloud. i don't think connor or i have shown you the ghosttrick soundtrack? but it's that kind of sound, if that's anything. there's vocals but they aren't really what you're focused on.

there aren't cars on the street, but there's keyboards, and magazines, and graffiti. the street is dark grey and none of those dividing lines are painted or anything, it's just a monochrome grey.

everything is, as a base, black and grey and purple and a bit of dark blue mostly as a hue at the bottom of the buildings, because every building is a gradiant. but the path beneath your feet isn't a normal sidewalk, it looks like the path you'd take into a person's house (so there's some small patterns, it's not fully brick, they're kind of circular? EDIT -- not circles they are shaped like scallops. why did i write circular that's obviously wrong.) and that path is a dark sunset pink. so clearly the sun is setting, but also it's nighttime, you can see all the stars and the sky is black but if you looked behind you there would be an entire sunset. most things are dark dusky lavender.

the clouds look like smoke making funny shapes-- you can see them if you squint at the sky, and they change what they make every single time. there aren't words spelled out or anything that shit would be scary, but it's like ambiguous shapes you can think about. the moon and sun are both in the sky right beside each other. i said it was cold, but there are also spurts of hot whenever the strangers come by, like when you try to light a stove and it's abruptly burning and then it calms down. it's that, but the burning doesn't hurt. the weather patterns here are a little bizarre.

you know, to be honest, when i was visualizing this in my brain i figured the scene would be taken from the perspective of a person walking on the pavement, but that doesn't actually make sense. you're one of the cats in this scene. you're in front of a normal, not particularly unique building-- you aren't guarding anything. you're just awake, and watching the clouds shift. you're facing east. the wind is strong, and you're talking to the other cats and the shadows and everything-- you're just having sweet normal conversations, but there's not sound being emitted, it's a silent conversation but you understand it perfectly. it tastes like bubblegum and sour patch kids. everything is intoxicatingly, earnestly calm. it could be boring, but there's always something new that someone is saying (and new people in general), and the music keeps changing and never repeats, and the clouds are always shifting, and it's a little uncertain but if i sink into it hard enough and trust fall into the vision -- it's just relaxing.

i don't know how to finish this one off. i think the whole point is that you know how.

[papirouge]

The amount of Christians in the west that are standing by everything Israel is doing to palestinas believing that Israel is friends with Christians while they bomb churches and Christians in Palestine gets me so emotional. I hate this centrist take of “I don’t just pray for Palestine I pray for BOTH SIDES 😌”

These people will be the same people who will cry for support when zionists attack them next

The "i don't pick side" thing is so stupid and coward tbh

Like, there's no way to both side ism advocating for peace. You can advocate for peace AND still not be for any sides. When I defend Palestine it's in the same of protecting life wherever it is - not because I condone anything that Palestinians do. However I do consider Christian Palestianians as actually brethrens in Christ and will keep tabs of all the cowards "Christian" who remained silent regarding their martyr.

Their silence wouldn't be so irksome if they weren't people not having any issue to talk about the oppression of Christians in middle east. I guess this oppression was relevant only when it was at the hands of Muslims¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. It's not like religious Jews didn't have a deep seated hatred against Jesus (even on Tumblr there are Jews who feel entitled to dunk on Christian based on their Jewish beliefs - but it's a problem if we Christians do it)

If you feel emotional or sad when seeing the body of Christ being hurt, that's normal. If someone hurts your left foot, you will feel uncomfortable. If anything, I am concerned by all the people not feeling anything seeing them, and worse, condoning their oppressor. It only means they do not belong to the body of Christ, and are only but mere spectators.

[tseneipgam]

"of course, without the legitimacy of a flashy title at a blue-chip company, I wouldn't have a platform to say anything at all. Any value my words have in this country is derived from my association with its institutions: universities, banks, government. I can only repeat their words and hope to convey a kind of truth. Perhaps that's a poor justification for my own complicity. My part in convincing children that they, too, must endure. Silence, surely, was the least harmful choice."

"There's no time in October for more than peanut butter, traffic lights, and liberated slaves. It's disorien- tating, prevents you from forming an identity. Living in a place you're forever told to leave, without know- ing, without knowledge. Without history. After the war, the crumbling empire sent again for her colonial subjects. Not soldiers, this time, but nurses to carry a wavering NHS on their backs. Enoch Powell himself sailed upon Barbados and implored us, come. And so we came and built and mended and nursed; cooked and cleaned. We paid taxes, paid extor- tionate rent to the few landlords who would take us. We were hated. The National Front chased, burnt, stabbed, eradicated. Churchill set up task forces to get us out. Keep England White. Enoch, the once-intrepid recruiter, now warned of bloodied rivers if we didn't leave. New laws were drawn up; our rights revoked. Yet, some survived. And managed somehow, on meagre wages, to put a little aside. Eventually enough to move wife, husband and child from a rented room in a house shared by five families, to a two-up two- down all of their own. That they owned. And an ethic, a mindset, a drive was established then, that persists now. A relentless, uncompromising pursuit. Transcends race, they say of exceptional, dead black people. As if that relentless overcoming, when taken to the limit, as time stretches on to infinity, itself over- comes even limits, even infinity, even this place."

"But what it takes to get there isn't what you need once you've arrived. A difficult realization, and a harder actualization."

"

Beside me, sleeping, he is formless as water. Unperturbed by the day's anxieties. He breathes stead- ilv. With him, I have become more tolerable to the Lous and Merricks of this world. His acceptance of me encourages theirs. His presence vouches for mine, assures them that I'm the right sort of diversity. In turn, I offer him a certain liberal credibility. Negate some of his old-money political baggage. Assure his position left of centre. I turn my phone to silent. Perhaps he doesn't recognize the pragmatism of our coupling as I do, or Rach would. As his father surely must. But it's there. In his imagined autobiography, this relationship will ultimately reduce to a sentence - maybe two. Thin evi- dence of his open-mindedness, his knack for cultural bridge-building. Everything is a trade."

"

He introduces me to his political friends from across the spectrum. Conservatives who o and ah and nod telling me I'm just what this country is about. And so articulatel Frowning liberals who put it simply: my immoral career is counterproductive to my own com- munity. Can I see that? My primary issue is poverty, not race. Their earnest faces tilt to assess my compre- hension, my understanding of my role in this society, They conjure metaphors of boats and tides and rising waves of fairness. Not reparations - no, even social- ism doesn't stretch that far. Though some do propose a rather capitalistic trickle-down from Britain to her lagging Commonwealth friends. Through economic generosity: trade and strong relations! Global leader- ship. The centrists nod. The son nods, too. Now that, they can all agree to. They take their modern burden seriously; over Beyond Meat burgers with thick-cut chips drizzled in truffle oil. Per bell hooks: We must engage decolonization as a critical practice if we are to have meaningful chances of survival . . . yes, yes! But I don't know how. How do we examine the legacy of colonization when the basic facts of its construction are disputed in the minds of its benefi- caries?"

"British officials during the government-sanctioned frenzy of mass document destruction. Operation Legacy, to spare the Queen embarrassment. The more insidious act, though less sensational, proved to have the greatest impact: a deliberate exclusion and obfus- cation within the country's national curriculum. Through this, more than records were destroyed. The erasure itself was erased. With breathtaking ease, the facts of Britain's non- war twentieth-century history have been unrooted, dug out from the country's collective memory. Sup- planted. Vague fairytales of benevolent imperial rule bloom instead."

[killervelveteenrabbit]

Well, that happened.

You probably don’t want to hear this, chat, but I need to say it: I never really thought she’d win. If anything, I’m more shocked that the outcome materialized in one night.

All the rah-rah I heard on my socials and the press, all the insinuations about unreliable polling and early voting and a red mirage… somehow it sounded too self-assured, too insistent upon itself, too much like the buzz I heard around Hillary eight years back. Deep down, I knew that juxtaposed with the threat of real or perceived inflation and appeals to middle America’s assorted isms and phobias, no amount of positive messaging or last-minute battleground state campaigning would break through. I think that’s the subconscious reason I went radio silent last night. I knew I’d handle the news better if I didn’t see it happening live.

In the weeks following the 2016 elections, I was fond of quoting a bon mot of my own creation: “America got the president it deserved, and now it deserves everything it gets.” Four years later, following a deadly pandemic made worse by Trump’s mishandled response and asinine statements, I said to myself, “No, we couldn’t possibly have deserved this.” Today, I’m saying yes, we do deserve what’s going to happen in the next four years, because America at large has happily allowed a wanna-be dictator the opportunity to become just such by legal right. And I say that as someone who may suffer disproportionately over the next four (?) years as a result, and who has friends who may suffer as well.

My advice to you all is to start saving money now so you can handle the price shocks we’ll experience in the next few months once Trump gets the tariffs that he thinks will fix everything. You’ll also need it to help your friends, family, and neighbors through any natural, civil, or personal disaster. The assistance we’ve come to expect from state and local governments may not be there once the agencies that once supported us are deregulated out of existence, or they might not be available to you because you or the district you live in didn’t vote the “right” way. Be there for your demographically vulnerable friends, whether it’s comforting them after particularly bad news or defending them from governmental and civilian “hateriots” who think Trump’s victory means they can do whatever they want to people, legally or even physically.

And sometimes, you’ll need to follow my example from last night: disconnect from everything, spend time on the things and people that matter to you, and calmly strategize how you will respond to the reality before you. I for one am handling this disaster much better than if I’d stayed up all night watching history repeat itself.

Without indulging in the doomsday scenarios of your favorite dystopia-themed media, these will be four difficult years for this country. But we, or at least most of us, have already survived four difficult years for this country. Faith in ourselves, in each other, in an arc that bends towards justice, and a Ruler and Judge more powerful than any other—this will see us through. Good luck, and God help America.

[leeloooonfire]

I hate living like this.

I hate capitalism and fascism and that I have to defend my believes that we should not have to live like this!

Its not right to have to work against my body, my mind, against nature and everything that's natural only to fit into a society that makes us sick and tired and wanting to die.

Its not right that we have to pay for water and housing. Or that we grade people on how much they can contribute to capitalism from a very young age and everything is centered around money and success. You cannot tell anyone that you like to write without them questioning why you haven't published a book and if you've published a book, you're questioned if it makes good money and if you can live off it. That is fucking disgusting. We're conditioned to produce and produce and to work for others without having enough to cover our basic needs, but there's neither the time nor the energy to find a new job, because we work overtime on 6 to 7 days a week and are even too tired to brush our teeth on our free day. There're basically no accommodations for people with special needs and if there are the people in charge are disgusting and assholes about it. (Personal example: I work for a university and for people who have disadvantages due to mental or physical illnesses there is the option to give them extra time during exams or f.e. a laptop, and my colleagues are such assholes about it. I hate it.)

Its also not right that there's money, billions, to bomb people in Gaza and to feed into A.I. (which is horrendous for our nature, same for the bombs and war and the genocides that are being committed around the world) so it can produce art, but there's no money to help the poor and sick or to fund education or economic changes to bring climate change to a stop. The world is burning and drowning and wildlife is dying but Germany decided to bring back nuclear energy and buy 'clean' oil/gas from 'somewhere in africa'. Like wtf?!

It is vile that we all have to fight against the -isms and -phobias again and again only for the states and countries to develop back into racists believes, the left becomes more right and slavery is having a comeback - even if its a modern version. It becomes illegal to have no home (in some states) in the US. That means these people can be put into prison where they're made to work for companies for basically no income which means that they cannot put some back for the time they're released which means that they have extra trouble to find a home and a job which means again, due to homelessness being illegal, that they can be send back to prison. This is modern slavery. And it's unfolding right in front of our eyes.

It is not right to live like this. And I am so sick of this.

And still I have to get up every single shitty day to go to work where my boss and my colleagues and the state boosts about being good people because they help others with disadvantages to live through a gruelling educational system these young people leave with horrendous debts only to make fun of these people behind closed doors because they have a crippled arm and cannot write with a fucking pen or are blind and need a special PC, or have adhd or autism and need a silent room with little to no people inside.

And then I get into trouble because I'm not smiling enough.

Why should I smile when I see this world and think: oh we are fucked

[freezegirl]

"Later," she'll tell Rachel, eyes twinkling. "If I start right now, you'll get stuck with me doing the pseudo-philosophical thing for hours on end or I end up falling asleep on you. Neither of which would be preferable, I'm sure, 'cause once I'm out, I'm out like a light."

Then she falls silent as Rachel speaks, stops and holds up a hand. Khione chuckles quietly, recognizing the mannerisms for what they are, nodding her head as she does. Pre-damage damage-control because every word out of one's mouth could be taken, twisted, turned into something else entirely.

"I follow you on both, actually." It's an easy thing to admit. "I liked the one where you did Elphaba's battle cry from Defying Gravity." Khione grins once more. "Honestly, my content is very much ice skating related. With the occasional vlog of me snow sculpting or visiting one of those ice sculpting festivals on the mainland."

One day, she'd rope her friends into coming with her. Until then, she'd go on her own. It's a miracle in and of itself that she's managed to get most of them on the ice.

"I'm glad to hear it." Her mother, Saraswati, had been pregnant for about a month when her father, Evander, began his brief fling with Zach's mom, knocking her up too. So it isn't like Khione has a blueprint for what a stable marriage should be.

"Yeah," she says and everything about her softens, "we went to the same school, same classes and everything but I never really did pluck up the courage to talk to him until homecoming during our sophomore year. Initially, I wanted to ask him to dance but we sat down at a table near the dance floor and started talking instead, and I don't think we ever stopped."

And now that Rachel's asked her to share, it doesn't look like Khione will be stopping anytime soon, either.

"He's wicked smart, actually; he's so well read. Knows the Bard like the back of his hand whereas I only know Ten Things I Hate About You - which I'm pretty sure is a redux of Taming of the Shrew - because both of the leads are hot." Giggles escape her lips. Yes, she does so have a type. "Most people don't see past his exterior or past his past." He is the son of Barron Battle, after all. Never mind the fact that he's the son of Mrs Peace, too. "And I think that's such a shame because he's got a great sense of humor. A little dry, a little dark."

She snorts. "The best thing about him, I think, is that he is patient. With me and all of my me-isms. That, and he sat through Lord of the Rings and the Rings of Power with me and he doesn't mind my penchant for, you know, audibly reacting to the tv whenever I watch stuff, either." Warm laughter escapes her lips, then. "That definitely has to count for something, 'cause I am the most annoying person to watch tv with."

Khione starts on a tangent that for a minute there, Rachel thought wouldn't come to an end, and whilst she listens, she maintains a fond and appreciative smile and because she knows somewhere in there was a compliment, once silence falls on their shoulders once more, she chuckles and says— “I see. Thank you, Kie, I'm glad I can take a little bit of weight off of your shoulders and that you don't feel like you have to put on a show for me.”

“Yeah... or.. I think so,” She turned her attention the bottle beside her, lifting it to make reading the label easier, “Honestly, I grabbed the first unsupervised bottle I saw, didn't even check to see what it was 'til now, but yeah, it's riesling.” She placed the bottle down again and nudged it toward Kie, “Have a drink, if you want.”

Rachel doesn't say anything aloud, but thinks eggrolls sounded so good then and there, and she would have suggested sneaking away from the event to go to the Paper Lantern, but she wasn't in the interest of abandoning Rafe.

“I don't have any interest in it.” She says-then she realizes her own words and how they could be twisted and misinterpreted and so she raises a hand, as if to say, 'Wait,' before beginning to rework her statement. “Clients and contracts... those are his thing, sitting in meetings and networking.. all his thing and he's good at it. He knows what he's doing. My thing... is acting, climbing on stage and dancing and singing my heart out. My YouTube channel, my TikTok, those are my things. I'm good at that.” They're people persons in different and similar ways.

“I love when he talks about his work though.” Of course. He'll talk and he'll talk passionately and she'll listen whilst looking at him with admiration, and he does the same when she talks about some play she's in or what she plans to do with her channel next.

How's married life treating you? “It isn't what I thought it would be, and I mean that in the best way.” She smiles—then shrugs, then gestures to Khione with her head. “You and... Warren, right? There's something there? Tell me about it.” Really, she's just going off hearsay, but she hopes she's correct.

[rottaen-blog]

tag drop !!

[happenedinforks]

Dating Jasper and Alice

a/n: im gay af but Jasper could hit it

warnings: some suggestive tones briefly, also possible writing mistakes (im too lazy to proof read it’s like 2 am)

They're already vampires, living with a vampire family, with a treaty considering shape-shifting wolves so a poly-relationship wasn't necessarily that big of news to them.

Like they both liked you, you liked them. If you were down to "share" then they'd be too. It was quite simple for them.

It would be quite casual at first, no one really acknowledged the whole vampirism-thing for a while. For better or for worse.

You thought you were still 17, you had time, so why stress and turn grey from over-thinking?

Surprisingly, Jasper had this same attitude. Just... for about everything in life.

It drove Alice insane. She would like to plan out what you guys would do for your anniversary and in exchange she'd get you and Jasper lounging around, reading books and saying "we'll figure it out" and "don't stress about it, darling."

But also sometimes you sided with Alice and dragged poor Jasper accross town for that adorable decorative pillow you ”just had to get for your couch”.

Having two hundred years old genius’ helping you out with homework and studying. Your grades rose like Jon Snow from the dead.

Being one of the few humans Jasper has no trouble tolerating scent-wise, mainly because he loves you but also because your scent is quite mild according to him.

During summer these two act like your personal cooling packs.

As rare as it is, sometimes it does get hot in Forks, Washington. And that’s when cuddling with two vampires gets handy.

These two weren’t as afraid of sex as their lovely brother.

Bella was kinda jealous of you let’s be honest here.

But it was a lot of: ”are you alright?” ”Does it hurt anywhere?” ”Do we need to stop?” ”Alright Jazz shut up and kiss me.” ”Alice for the love of god live in the present.” You know, the usual.

And ALSO Jasper being an empath made everything (and I mean everything) just a tad bit better.

Because, you know, feelings were enhanced. And from that also other things.

So yeah sex is amazing with them.

But also kind of a rare treat given that when they get really excited + their vampire-ism equals broken furniture.

It’s kind of a miracle you arent actually broken.

Emmett laughed at the joke, Jasper and Alice didn’t find it as funny.

Alice and Jasper have a habit of talking either in that annoying vampire speed (especially if it’s about the Volturi or Riley Biers or Victoria or overall someone or something that would worry you)

Or they would have this weird non-verbal communication.

The two have known each other for how many decades? They can basically read eachothers minds by now.

Cue you going: ”Uh, yes hello, human over here, what is going on?”

Other than that you guys are all quite open about everything.

They’d happily tell you stuff about the history.

I mean Jasper had some explaining to do with the whole... army... thing...

And even about the not so happy things.

They like to think of it not like ”oh yes we’re going to traumatize this human for life” but more like ”it’s better she knows this and hears it from us rather than from those dogs.”

Oh by the way, did you like La Push? Too bad, you’re not going anymore.

Okay, that’s a bit overstated.

But you know, they’re extremely wary of the place. And the wolves.

These two can sometimes act as your own personal body guards.

One time this one asshole tried to flirt with you in Seattle, and Alice was this close to snapping his wrist.

And dont even get me started on the silent judging you guys do.

Especially in school.

Because even though they were vampires and could easily hear stuff from accross the room, you were still sort of their first line of defense when it came to gossip.

Everytime something happened, Alice and Jasper were the first to find out.

And when someone who had called Alice weird walked past, you and Jasper would stare them down until they were out of sight.

Alice pretend pleaded you to stop but she actually enjoys it. Just a teeny bit.

They just adore everything you do.

Because they’ve been vampires for so long, they kinda forgot the small things humans do.

Like you just flipped a pancake perfectly on your pan? Amazing.

Or perfectly threw and caught popcorn from mid-air? Show-stopping.

You did what? Filled a small balloon with water and threw it at Edward, completely soaking him with water? Someone get this girl a Nobel prize.

I swear, these two were in awe from the tiniest things they had completely forgotten about.

So usually Jasper does the driving.

Because you and Alice are very passive agressive. Alice more of the type who mumbles under her breath and you the type who honks and yells inside the car as if the other driver would hear it.

But when you weren’t complaining about other drivers you would be teasing Jasper of his southern heritage.

You and Alice purposely googled old southern slang and just used them in everyday conversation.

”Don’t you start with me boy”, said with the most obnoxious southern drawl possible.

Calling Jasper son even though he’s like gazillion years older than you.

”Listen here, son—” and cue a very bad Robert de Niro personation.

It’s contagious and soon Emmett is calling Jasper ”boy” and ”son” ironically.

Also:

“Can you be the yee to my haw?”

“Alice put her to bed please.”

“There’s a snake in your boot!”

“There’s not even snakes here!”

“Saddle up.”

”We’re driving. A car.”

”This ain’t my first rodeo, boy.”

”Alice I beg, not you too.”

You’re pretty sure he secretly likes your jokes. Like at least 50% of them.

Everything is the same except 100 times more chaotic after you’ve been changed.

[moononastring]

Spirit Meets the Bones XII

Find it all here.

Genre: Angst/Romance  Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering. Author’s Note: Feedback is always welcome and very encouraging :) I love knowing what you think so thank you for reading!

Tagging: @wrathscannoli | @nina-zcnik | @chloepereyra | @tealnymph24 | @helion-ism | @illyrianvalkyrie | @arielle-reads | @gwyns | @highladyofdawn | @ae-lingalathynius | @gingerwritess | @lovelywordsandwine | @verifiefangirl | @live-the-fangirl-life | @positivewitch | @asteria-of-mars | @sfae | @highladyoftheday | @rarephloxes | @readthelastpaage | @thewilderheart | @ddsworldofbooks | @deardiarystuff | @ladyelain | @rainbowcheetah512 | @rainbowsnowflake | @bookologist | @lattristantketchup | @spell-cleavers | @sheisnotwriting | @sophilightwood | @reindeer-games2 | @applestrudeldoo | @story-scribbler | @sapphire-faythe | @velvet-rays | @pascale-the-bard | @cinnamon-mentos | @cynicalpotato95 | @ellies-iced-coffee |

Each day after that, the two of them woke up with the sole purpose of watching each other. Eris watching Iris and Iris watching Eris.

Eris followed up on his promise with training and the first few sessions were the most entertaining time of his life.

“Tell me your favorite color.”

Eris had only blinked and blocked Iris’s attempt to jab him in the ribs.

“My favorite color?” he repeated with a snort. “Why?”

“It is a valid question.” she said indignantly and aimed for another swipe that he easily deflected. “This is a basic piece of information any couple should know about each other.”

“If you keep bracing yourself, I’ll see the hit coming and block it. Don’t hesitate, just hit.” he instructed, tapping her elbow and though Iris narrowed her eyes, she nodded. “Get a hit in and I’ll tell you.”

Iris rolled her eyes and stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. “So now I have to earn my information? What happened to a question for a question?”

“You’ve been itching to smack me since you met me, so I figured this was the proper motivation.” Eris said with a smirk. “You also didn’t actually ask a question, wife.”

Iris flipped him off then resumed position across from him. “Fine, smartass.” she huffed. “A question for a question.”

“Yes, wife?”

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked dully, and Eris’s lips twitched.

“I don’t think about colors.”

Which was one of the many, many lies Eris had been constantly telling himself these days.

He had started to think about colors quite a lot actually. He thought about the way he particularly loved the color green on her. And the color wine. And he didn’t want to admit how the color purple had nearly brought him to his knees the first time she wore it.

He thought about the color pink when she painted her lips with it and worse, when she flushed, and that same pink bloomed on her lovely cheeks.

His favorite color was the color of her eyes and the way they lit up in excitement whenever they did anything together these days. But Eris had no need to mention that. No need at all.

“That’s not a real answer, you cheat.” she replied then held the dagger up threateningly and Eris chuckled.

“What’s yours?”

“Cerulean.”

He wouldn’t think about her in that color and how magnificent it would look against her tanned skin. Instead, Eris pursed his lips and said dully, “You mean blue?”

Iris fully stopped and shot him a look of annoyance so cold, Eris had to fight everything in him not to laugh.

“You dress too well to pretend you don’t know your colors. I’ll just guess then.” she finally said and began pacing around him. He only watched her with a raised brow and a smirk, turning as she turned.

“What do you think is my favorite color then?”

Iris pursed her lips, silent for a moment then pointed with the dagger in hand and confidently boomed, “It’s green, isn’t it?”

It certainly was now. He thought to himself and opened his mouth to reply but Iris barreled on.

“Which is a tad cliche, but you wear green often and it suits you without clashing with your hair.” She continued, more so to herself as she tilted her head and observed him. “You tend to go for the darker greens, but I think sage would look really nice on you too.”

Both of Eris’s brows went up. “Is that so?”

Iris hummed, her free hand casually reaching out to touch his arm. “Celadon would match well too. It’s just a shade away from sage but just as nice.”

Eris only watched her hand touch the fabric of his shirt and held very still. “Would you like input in my wardrobe, wife?”

Realizing she was still touching him, Iris flushed lightly then pulled back. “How about some nice fluffy skirts?”

“I’m afraid you’d get jealous with how spectacular my legs would look.” he said and grinned when she laughed.

“I wish I had the right word to describe you.” she said with a shake of her head.

“Handsome? Delightful? Wonderful?” he offered. “In case you missed it the first time I said it but, once again, handsome?”

She scrunched her nose in mock distaste and said, “Obnoxious is what I would go with. Maybe nauseating.”

Slowly, with each quip, they tried to build a routine.

And Eris, who was not used to having someone be a constant presence around him was slightly unsettled.

Especially because the more time they spent together, the worse his reactions to her were getting. It was getting harder and harder for him to resist her even if all she did was stand next to him.

Each day passed in a blur, until a week and then two were gone before he knew it. A week and then another, of exploration, of questions, of training, and every single thing Eris could think of to include in their day-to-day. Even though he needed to plan it well to maneuver everything without his father detecting it, Iris was a constant companion by his side every day where it was suitable. It was an ache he didn’t realize he was feeling that was soothed. He was exhausted but it felt good. Being around her felt good.

And it scared the shit out of him. Especially whenever he was in the same room as his father. Any urges he felt were dimmed down very quickly with the slight panic of just thinking about Iris near his father.

Iris tried to be stealthy about her observations of Eris as they went about their day but Eris was always aware of how she watched him. He tried not to let it unnerve him but also wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He also tried to take his mother’s advice and show Iris kindness each day. Problem was, he wasn’t exactly sure if he was doing it right.

Her threats continued, though half-hearted. His inappropriateness was the response, also half-hearted. It seemed to be the easiest way for them to navigate whatever this was.

He had never requested so many flowers in his life. Elain outdid herself each time with her bouquet because he would only trust her with flowers. The last thing he needed was his father to find out he went out and bought his wife flowers.

Iris had adjusted to their expected roles better than he had anticipated. Whenever they stepped out of their room, she became the demur, adoring wife and Eris tried not to let it fuck with his mind. Especially whenever she touched him.

And gods, she touched him so much now. It was subtle touches, almost mindlessly but he never failed to notice that she always hesitated just for a fraction of a second then did it anyway. As though convincing herself it was okay, and it was — it was very much okay. Even if Eris was on the verge of a meltdown constantly.

He didn’t touch her as often. For his own sanity but also because she still to this moment, eyed his hands warily. Even when they started training, her eyes always drifted to his hands.

It was why Eris didn’t mind it that he hadn’t tasted her lips yet. He kept reminding himself that it was one step at a time. Because apparently, making it work didn’t include kissing.

This all didn’t stop them from having...difficult moments.

A few days before, he had a terrible reaction when she had accidentally brushed up against his back in passing and Eris had flinched so hard, she had jumped back several feet from him.

“Don’t.” His snarl slipping from his lips quicker than he could leash it, the command a mirror of the one she had given him before.

Iris had stood, taken aback and a beat of tense silence passed between them. “I’m sorry.” she said quietly, her brows furrowed. “I didn’t realize it still bothered you.”

It had taken him a minute before he swallowed, hating the way she stood away from him so rigidly. “Just because it seems healed doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me.”

“You sleep and walk around shirtless...I assumed you didn’t have any issues —”

“I don’t like people to approach me from behind too closely and I like to air it out,” he replied curtly and rolled his shoulders back. “I’ve also been used to sleeping alone.”

Instinct had told him she wouldn‘t touch his back any of the times he slept shirtless and only because Eris knew she still hesitated to get too close to him, he didn’t bother with shirts. Her expression had flattened at his tone but she kept her voice even, watching his expression.

“You’re telling me no one has ever touched your back?”

“If you’re wondering about previous lovers, they usually had their hands occupied elsewhere.” he snipped then narrowed his eyes, trying not to let a sneer find its way to his face. “Do not pity me for a single moment.”

Iris had only lifted her chin and met his near-sneer with a scowl. “I expect the same from you.”

The rest of that day had been spent in silence, even as they explored. Both of them feeling too awkward to meet in the middle.

It also didn’t help when that same night, Iris had walked in on Eris bathing while doing other things and slammed the door shut with a loud gasp. She had only flushed angrily at him and refused to meet his gaze when he slipped into their bed afterward.

He had desperately tried not to laugh as he was shameless; a male had needs and his wife was fucken beautiful. But Eris, of course, had only said the stupidest thing he could think of.

“To make it very clear, I was definitely thinking about you, wife.”

Which only caused Iris to scoot further away from him and reply, “Go die. Don’t think about me that way.”

“Would you rather I thought of someone else then?” he teased, and she shot him a glare.

“I’m sure you’ve had others you can think about.”

Eris shrugged and crossed his arms, looking at her. “Yes. But none of them are my wife. Surely you wouldn’t want your husband to think of others while pleasuring himself?”

He slowly smirked when she had only pursed her lips and ignored his question. “I assume you’ve had needs as well, wife. I’d be happy to assist you with them at any time.”

“No, thank you.” she spat, flushing deeply and Eris chuckled in the silence that followed her response — until she looked over her shoulder and asked an unexpected question.

“Will you...find relief with others? If I...am not comfortable yet?”

Eris had blanked as she blushed and looked away, quickly adding, “It wouldn’t be fair for me to deny you and then expect you not to find it elsewhere.”

He had stared at her in silence long enough, that it forced her to look at him once more.

“I thought we were going to make this work.” he said tightly, and Iris blinked.

“...Yes.”

“I don’t count infidelity as making it work. Do you?”

Iris swallowed and looked away again, flushing. “No.”

“Good,” he said simply then rolled his shoulders back. “I’m not a male interested in anyone but my wife, even if my wife isn’t interested in me yet. I will wait until you are comfortable.”

Color had bloomed on Iris’s cheeks and she’d stolen one more glance at him before turning away once more, refusing to respond, and Eris had to hold back a grin.

Each day after, they found ways to bridge the gap between them.

Iris joined him and his mother for tea almost every morning and he always felt the strangest sensation watching his mother laugh alongside Iris. He couldn’t find the right word to describe it — didn’t know if he could whenever he watched the two of them bond, but it made his heart swell.

Eris was pleasantly surprised when two weeks later, and after he worked with her on the basics for her self-defense, his wife had indeed kicked his ass hard enough that he was the one on his back in the training room.

She grinned as she stood over him, her dagger at his throat and Eris desperately tried not to get a hard-on.

“Beat you.”

“Your grip on the dagger is getting better.” he said to her slowly, his eyes cataloging every inch of her in fitted training clothes. “I see your stance has improved as well.”

“You have a big mouth but at least you're a decent teacher.” she said with a chuckle and pulled back so he could get up, twirling the dagger in her hand.

But Eris wasn’t so sure he was decent about anything. Especially when all he could think about was having her on her back and doing very indecent things to his one and only student.

“Next time, I’d like to see you try to disarm me more quickly. But good job.” he said with a small proud smile, dusting his training leathers and Iris grinned at the praise. “It seems that the imbecile who stole kisses from you gave you some acceptable pointers in between the fondling.”

Iris’s expression flattened. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“I will have him beheaded if you’d just tell me his name.” Eris said sweetly and Iris snorted, shoving him back.

“No, you won’t because I will not tell you anything. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He kissed my wife!”

“Before she was your wife.”

“Yes, but now you are the future high lord’s wife. I will not have a wife fondler in my court.” Eris added and Iris huffed a laugh.

“How do you know you haven't met him already? What if he’s been working with you this whole time knowing he’s fondled your wife?” she said with an eye roll. “You’re ridiculous.”

Eris paused and narrowed his eyes at her as she pursed her lips, holding back another laugh.

“Do I need to fight for my honor then, wife?”

“Your honor?”

“Yes. You won’t tell me the wife fondler’s name. I will fight for it and win back my respect.”

“You’re losing respect by the second the more you ask about him.”

Eris put a hand over his heart and gave her a once over. “I am the son of a high lord.”

Sheathing her dagger, Iris gave him a saccharine smile and said as she told him once before, “Kiss my ass.”

Eris chuckled. “A few training sessions and you’ve gotten cocky. I’d like to see you try without the dagger then.”

“You just want me to get you on your back again, don’t you?” she taunted with a smirk that had Eris grinning. “Right where you belong.”

“What if I want to get you on your back?”

“We both know by now that’s not how it would go.”

Eris smirked and tried not to let his delight show at the slight flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with their workout.

“I’m very curious to know how you think it would go.” he said seductively. “How long are you going to keep resisting my charms?”

Iris pursed her lips and raised a brow. “Funny how you think there is much to resist.”

Eris tutted as they stood opposite each other, and he gave her a slow once over. “We’re two sides of the same miserable coin so don’t you lie to me. The least we can do is fuck it out, little gazelle.”

Iris returned the once over with one of her own before she met his gaze and firmly said, “Don’t ask for things you won’t survive, husband.”

“I’ve always liked a challenge, wife.”

Iris’s brow raised in challenge. “You would barely survive a kiss.”

“Is it the witchcraft or poison on your lips that’ll do me in?” he asked with a lazy grin and Iris rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth ticked up.

“It would be the knife I so casually slip into your chest if you took a kiss before I gave it.”

“And when will you give me one, wife?” he teased, and she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow.” she replied airily. “When I feel like it, I suppose.”

And oh, Iris would never admit it to him at the moment, but she definitely felt like it. All this time she shared a bed with this male, had started to share so much with him...except a kiss. By her request, of course.

Which she was deeply regretting because now, all Iris felt was pressure. An insane amount of pressure that sat on her chest daily, that squeezed when she looked at him and Iris found herself looking at him a lot.

He chuckled at her comment, waving her off then rubbed his cheek, at the scruff gracing his face and Iris wondered if he had any idea what the light beard was doing to her. He seemed to have forgotten about it completely.

“I like my odds with maybe.” he said with a wink and shoved his shoulder into hers gently.

Iris pursed her lips then shoved him right back but knew he didn’t miss the way she kept eyeing him, her gaze constantly on his face.

“Is there something you would like to say?” he teased again, and Iris rolled her eyes, pushing past him.

“There are a few things I’d like to say but I am a lady.”

“A lady with one of the filthiest mouths I’ve ever seen.” Eris said with a snort. “I have been bamboozled.”

“Bamboozled?” she asked, putting a hand over her heart as a coy smile found its way to her lips. “Are you flirting with me, husband?”

Eris gave her a smirk. “It only took for me to admit being fooled that you realized? I need to work on my approach then.”

“Yes, you do. You’re terrible.”

And the two shared a small, shy smile as they made their way out of the private training room and back to their bedroom.

Since their little heart-to-heart, things seemed to be different but they were both still somewhat cautious with each other. Iris still scowled in his general direction at some of the nonsense he said, and though the pillow barricade was getting shorter, it still stood proudly between them.

A flush blossomed on her cheeks as Iris recalled yesterday morning when she woke up to find their hands inches away from each other.

They still didn’t know what to make of the other.

But...he seemed to be trying. And so, she tried as well.

Each morning, they would venture out somewhere different in the Autumn Court, places she had never seen though she had been born and raised in the court. Eris included her in almost everything and watching him work had been fascinating. The way everything was done in plain sight of Beron and yet...the High Lord knew nothing of the system Eris had built that functioned without him.

The day he introduced her to a few select people he valued above everyone else was one that had filled her with pride.

“This is Nevien, the only healer I trust. She’s patched me up more times than I care to admit.” Eris had said when introducing the older female. Iris had noted his fond smile towards her as the healer smiled back. “Nevien, please note you might see me more often these days as I’m going to start training my wife. She has the tendency to try and stab me.” Nevien had only laughed as Iris rolled her eyes.

Later that same day, he had introduced her to some of his closer sentries she had seen around.

“These are Oren, Mikel, and Serphan — three of my generals who oversee the workings of my legion and personal court within our territory. I trust them with my life.” he explained, and Iris nodded her greeting with a smile — until Eris turned to his generals and continued with, “Friends, if I am murdered, please put Iris on trial first as she threatens me with death several times a day. I annoy her enough that she might actually do it.”

Her expression had flattened before shooting Eris a glare but he only smirked as his men held back smiles.

“See? Murder is in her eyes.”

“Keep talking, it won’t only be in my eyes.” she had muttered. He had only grinned in that infuriating way of his and his companions laughed.

So his most trusted men watched her. His most trusted healer started meeting with her. He trained her himself and Iris had never been so blissfully busy, it made her heart burst. She was finding purpose.

Most importantly, he made time with her every single day to spend away from the court. Even if it wasn’t far, even if it was just in the fields watching her as she ran around with the hounds, he took her.

They avoided his father. They avoided her father. They avoided any outside factors that could sour the mood between them.

They spent every night with each other and when they weren’t exhausted, they spent it doing mindless activities together. The other night, he had sat opposite her while playing cards and Iris couldn’t take her eyes off him. She watched how at ease he was with her, his eyes focused on his cards while biting his lip. Or at least his gaze had been focused on the cards, — until he snapped his eyes to hers and he sniffed the air.

“Interesting development.” he said, and Iris narrowed her eyes at the stupid smirk on his face.

“What development is that?”

“I didn’t realize playing cards turned you on, wife.” he said with a Cheshire cat smile and Iris flushed deeply.

“Oh yes, cards are one of my fetishes.” she said dryly and forced herself to roll her eyes, but Eris’s smile only widened.

She froze, watched him calmly put down his cards and with a predatory gleam in his eyes, Eris moved closer and closer until he leaned over her just slightly so, a knowing look in his eyes. “If that’s the case, I think we can play a different game.”

Iris leaned back from him, her cards hugged to her chest, as if hoping he couldn’t hear how loudly it was beating. “And what game would that be?” she asked, completely distracted by the way his scent seemed to flood her senses.

“Why, strip poker, of course.” he said, leaning in further until he hovered close enough to her face and they shared a breath. “If playing cards makes you feel this excited, it seems logical stripping should come next.”

Iris huffed out a laugh, even as her blush gave her away, and shoved his head back with her palm. “Just say you want me naked and stop beating around the bush.”

Eris snorted and slowly backed away, to where he lay across from her and picked up his cards again. “I don’t think I’ve beat around the bush about that for one moment, wife.” he said and then gave her a wink. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll only let you beg for it a little.”

“What makes you think I’ll beg at all?” she asked haughtier than she felt.

And the look he had given her set her whole body aflame. “We shall see, won’t we?” he said softly, and Iris had a much more difficult time paying attention to her cards after that.

With each day after, Iris felt how her feelings towards him shifted from wary to complicated to...somewhat ease. He didn’t push her or invade her space. He taunted her, of course, but never anything more and she found...she stopped minding the taunts so much.

When he had left her the simple gift box on their table before breakfast one morning and she opened it to find a dagger, a well of emotion had surged in her body so fiercely, it almost made her cry. The same dagger now sheathed to her thigh and Iris had to school herself not to launch herself at him as he only said, “Consider it a late wedding gift.”

It was a beautiful dagger with a gold hilt, light enough it didn’t hold her back but sharp enough to slice off an arm.

And this had changed everything for Iris. Because it was an olive branch. A sign of trust. She had almost kissed him then. She found herself almost kissing him in quite a few situations.

She had even started to feel bolder with her nightclothes, choosing ones more comfortable though not too revealing. But with the way he cataloged each set, she might as well have been naked. It was deeply unfortunate that he was very attractive, and she was unfortunately, becoming attracted to him. Unfortunate that there always seemed to be a pull between them and Iris felt her guards getting lower and lower around him. Felt herself starting to like him and it scared the living daylights out of her enough that she always hesitated.

She watched him as they now walked down the mostly empty hall, nodding as certain staff passed. Iris observed him and knew if she didn’t say something soon, she’d end up doing something stupid, like shove him against the wall and kiss him how she desperately wanted to.

Clearing her throat, she stole a glance at him and quietly said, “I’m excited to visit Elain and Lucien tomorrow.”

Eris’s eyes met hers for a moment and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “So am I. They’re very excited to meet you.”

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a moment before speaking. “You told me you can see us getting along before...that’s still the case now, right?”

Eris blinked then paused in his steps, causing Iris to almost collide into him. He turned and gave her a curious look. “Yes, of course. Are you...nervous?”

Iris scoffed, though her cheeks heated. “Of course, I’m nervous! They’re the only family you like aside from your mother and I’m still trying to find time to spend with her.” she said in a quick breath then added quietly, “I want them to like me.”

Eris’s brows went up in surprise then he chuckled. “I can assure you, they’re going to like you very much.” he said. “Probably more than they like me.”

Iris pursed her lips, holding back a small smile then cleared her throat again as they started walking once more. “Well, that much can be expected. I am nicer than you.”

Eris rolled his eyes, knocking into her shoulder gently. “So you say. Yet, I am the one getting threats on a daily basis from someone.”

Iris crossed her arms and knocked her shoulder back into him. “Are you saying they’re undeserved?”

“I am saying for someone so nice, you have quite the violent tendencies.”

“That mouth of yours can inspire homicidal tendencies in just about anyone so really, are you surprised?” she replied with a pointed look and Eris blinked at her then tilted his head back with a laugh.

Iris’s lips twitched, watching the way his face changed with the laugh. How open he seemed. How unburdened. She liked when he laughed. She liked it a lot.

So she added, “One could argue you inspire those homicidal tendencies just by standing there and breathing but I don’t want to give you too much credit.”

“Oh the way you are with your words, wife.” he said with a shake of his head, one of the more genuine smiles on his face. “I’m so incredibly flattered.”

Iris looked down with a small smile, her cheeks reddening just so at his words, at his gaze on her. Only when he gently brushed his fingers against hers at her side did she look up again.

“I know going to the Day Court is a big deal for you.” he said quietly. “Your mother was originally from there, yes?”

Iris looked at him in surprise. She had mentioned that small detail to him in passing, through one of their random conversations. A warm feeling spread through her chest that he remembered.

“Yes, she was.” she said, a sad smile finding its way to her lips. “I’ve always wanted to visit but...he never allowed it.” Iris looked at Eris, brushing back a strand of hair that fell loose from her braid. “I’ve always heard it’s very beautiful. Do Elain and Lucien live in the city itself?”

“They live on the outskirts, closer to the countryside. But you can see the city from their home.” he replied then chuckled. “It is definitely a very beautiful place, but a little too warm for me. I am a bit biased to our crisp and airy weather.”

Iris laughed softly. “That makes sense, I suppose.” She glanced at him once then licked her lips before asking, “Do — do you think we could visit separately one day and explore the city?”

She didn’t miss the look in his eyes at her question.

Iris had grown up learning to expect no to any of her requests — just because her father had the power to do so. But Eris hadn’t said it once. Hadn’t scoffed at a single thing she asked for or about. So she tried to word her questions better, word them in a way that didn’t make him feel doubtful of her. He certainly tried for her and she wanted to keep trying to expect the better of him.

“Helion has been generous enough to grant me permission to visit Lucien at any time so I don’t see why not. I can send in a formal request for the two of us at some point.”

“Yeah?” she asked and her smile widened. “Do you think we’d be able to stay overnight too?”

Eris’s brows shot up and then he gave her a smirk that instantly had her regretting her question. “You’d have to share a bed with me in a new location. However will you be able to handle it, wife?” he asked in a voice too sinful to be used in a public setting. “I’m afraid we’ll be kicked out with how indecent you’ll be with me. How will I protect my modesty?”

Iris let out a cackle of a laugh even as her cheeks heated once more. “Eris Vanserra and the word modesty do not go together. Please don’t embarrass yourself with such lies.”

“That’s quite mean, wife. I won’t let you ravish me close enough to traumatize my brother if you’re not nice to me.”

“No, thank you. I will bunk with Elain and you can bunk with Lucien. The two of you can relive your cherished brotherly memories of sharing a space and protect your precious modesty.”

Eris snorted. “You think I shared a space with anyone? Please.”

“A high maintenance princess through and through.” she said with a grin and felt his soft laugh skate down her spine.

“But of course, I can’t have you lusting after a heathen.”

“Your mistake is you think I’m lusting after you at all.”

Eris gave her a knowing look. “Oh the lies you tell, wife.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Enough about you, princess.” she said with a small smile when his mouth formed a very small pout. “Lucien’s the only one of your brothers that surprisingly hasn’t tried to kill you, right?”

Eris waved a hand with a good-natured shrug. “I wouldn’t say never but definitely less than the others.”

Iris raised a brow, lowering her voice, and walked closer to him as people passed them in the mostly empty hall. “So that’s why he’s your favorite.”

“I’m his favorite.” he corrected.

“It makes sense that you would choose him. He is the most handsome of you.” She said with a smirk that widened at the outrage on his face as he gaped at her.

“You think Lucien is more handsome than I am?”

“You don’t?” She asked with an innocent blink.

“Even with his metal eye?” he asked in amusement and Iris shrugged then gave an exaggerated dreamy sigh.

“Especially with the eye.” she said and fought the smile at Eris’s expression. “It definitely makes him more dashing.”

“You don’t even know Lucien.” he muttered childishly, his eyes narrowed.

“Everyone knows Lucien.” she said, biting back the grin threatening to burst out of her at his expression. “Before he was mated, the Seventh son of Beron was very well-liked by many females. Quite a few males too.”

Eris narrowed his eyes at her.

Iris smiled back innocently.

He scoffed and knocked into her shoulder gently. “I’ll allow your momentary lapse in judgment. Only because I know what’s really in your heart, wife.”

Iris rolled her eyes again, flicking his arm lightly. “Oh do tell, husband dear. What is in my little heart?”

“Why, how could it be anyone else but me, little gazelle?” He replied with a smug smile and tapped over his heart. “I’m sitting right in there, warming up your heart.”

It was Iris’s turn to let out a snort. “I thought you wanted to worm your way under my dresses?”

“I’m great at multitasking. I want to be under your dress, in your heart, and I already know I’m in your head with how often you think about me.”

She let out a laugh and the corner of Eris’s mouth curved up. “You are so full of yourself, how does your body manage to carry that fat head of yours?”

“I have incredible thighs to hold up my weight.”

The laugh died in her throat as Eris’s head shot up and faster than Iris could comprehend, he had her cornered against the wall, his hand lightly wrapped around her throat.

“Play along.” he whispered.

[nutzo0001]

Some_porcupine said:

some are good, others are just snarky takes

Some_porcupine: What's something you'll get a lot of hate for if you say it out loud?​This young man possesses a remarkable clarity of thought. Unfortunately, the system has engaged in a prolonged brainwashing campaign, spanning multiple generations since the industrial revolution. Th... In 59 minutes

Some_porcupine: Shit Poster​A public nuisance and cancer to society In 58 minutes

Some_porcupine: We were called horrible kids too, and so were our parents, and our grandparents, and our great grandparents, and our...​I've known since I was a teenager that "kids are so awful these days" has pretty much always been a thing... like, literally, written records of that bullshit goes back thousands of years... and over... In 58 minutes

Some_porcupine: Shit Poster​Fucking boomers. In 56 minutes

Some_porcupine: Tumblr​Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your people. Edited In 47 minutes

Some_porcupine: hey I think I know why old people are insincere assholes the essay​Yknow when you're trying to connect to someone from an older generation, and they gloss over your attempts at genuine connection? Like when a family member got you a gift that really meant somethi... In 46 minutes

Some_porcupine: weegee​The millennial equivalent of the boomers "fuck you got mine" is the fact that they were allowed to be edgy and shitpost without having their lives ruined or be made a complete outcast, and could pret...

Just A Dumb Bitch Eating Ass™️

okay i personally vote we rename gen z from "generation z" to "baby busters" bc we are in the exact opposite position that baby boomers were in at our age im just saying ‍♂️ like boomers were just...

idk I'll name this later

You know how millennials and gen z are freaking out about 12 year olds doing relatively heavy makeup which is not good for baby skin and people are saying it's an overreaction Weelll boomers and gen...

Nothing's Cool

Baby boomers suck to work with in the job market. They take up positions because they refuse to retire. Their views on job operations are old and outdated. Their behavior in the job fields are old an...

- bad

Yess, it's me, John Langley.

Language, Gen X, LGBTPQRS - whatever! Having already lived through 'ist' and 'ism' being tagged to almost everything by the millennials, my awareness of just how much our language has become dilut...

Ta da!

Silent & Boomer parenting strategy: I'm going to mentally, emotionally, and/or physically beat my child into doing what I want. Life is supposed to difficult. Gen X & Millennial parenting strateg...

Difference in their coming of age

Boomers Gen x Millenails So if you see my place at the top I have started with boomers, I find all the generational gaps fascinating and how we can like show different ways of being with dif...

Tumblr

Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your people.

- little rants ˘

Tumblr

Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your people.

Is it over?

After I graduated college in 10 months I applied to 2561 jobs I only got 68 interviews from all these applications With only 2 job offers to show for all that effort When boomers or gen x talk abo...

wretched thing, pull yourself together

The blog of a weirdo author and perpetual pissant. He/They, pansexual 2x critical damage proc, 294 years old. Call me Kai. I dual wield sci fi and fantasy, but sci fi is my offhand weapon, with my charisma modifier stacked on top. Author website for book updates: klsomniate.com.

timaeuslover00

It's funny how younger poeple nowadays totally trash on the older generations evey change they get but when it's a bout generational trauma and slavery and racism they wanna "look to the past and hon...

"Aren't you a little old for a shitposter?"

Getting real tired of boomers trying to shame me for being proud of managing my shit, especially because as far as responsibility goes, everyone my parents' age seems to have coasted through life. Li...

and list go on - https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/baby boomers

...

+edit https://s9e.github.io/iframe/2/twitter.min.html#1678641211362488322#theme=dark View: https://twitter.com/MKatorin/status/1678641211362488322?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1678641211362488322%7Ctwgr%5E%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=

thanks @WhiteSnake for birthing this idea

edit: what this post is about (skipping the foreword from user W-S who ghosted me XD)

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

thanks @WhiteSnake for birthing this idea edit: what this post is about (skipping the foreword from user W-S who ghosted me XD)...

Do you remember (Now Lost) "Future"?

Parallel thread with https://8chan.moe/404/res/17276.html Example: "internet will topple down *Patriarchy*!" related: https://forum.agoraroad.com/index.php?threads/young-people-%C2%B484-%C2%B414-and-on-giving-up-on-life-life-under-l-s-capitalism-where-is-my-jetpack-cancelled-futures.6412/...

+ "cultural changes you noticed in your lifetime" thread

album:

lost future / post-occupy nonsense world / boring dystopia

DIRECTORY of main points:

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

thanks @WhiteSnake for birthing this idea edit: what this post is about (skipping the foreword from user W-S who ghosted me XD)...

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

thanks @WhiteSnake for birthing this idea edit: what this post is about (skipping the foreword from user W-S who ghosted me XD)...

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

thanks @WhiteSnake for birthing this idea edit: what this post is about (skipping the foreword from user W-S who ghosted me XD)...

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

Nobody wants to read chat logs except glowies. Anyways I find Zoomers seemingly large lack of protest to be both a good and bad sign. It's a good sign as I found most protests since the 80s to be large virtue signaling parties that rarely change anything, making it mostly a waste of time. On...

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

Nobody wants to read chat logs except glowies. Anyways I find Zoomers seemingly large lack of protest to be both a good and bad sign. It's a good sign as I found most protests since the 80s to be large virtue signaling parties that rarely change anything, making it mostly a waste of time. On...

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

glam rock, "teenage rampage", creatives? (to create new future visions) Yeah, those are good- I don't mean at all to undersell or overlook the creative visions that Gen Z already has. Gen Z has a great deal of unique aphorisms, culture, etc. but it isn't understood or catalogued by older...

&

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

glam rock, "teenage rampage", creatives? (to create new future visions) Yeah, those are good- I don't mean at all to undersell or overlook the creative visions that Gen Z already has. Gen Z has a great deal of unique aphorisms, culture, etc. but it isn't understood or catalogued by older...

&

Young people (´84 - ´14 and on) giving up on life - Life under L.S.Capitalism - "Where is my Jetpack!" (Cancelled) Futures

glam rock, "teenage rampage", creatives? (to create new future visions) Yeah, those are good- I don't mean at all to undersell or overlook the creative visions that Gen Z already has. Gen Z has a great deal of unique aphorisms, culture, etc. but it isn't understood or catalogued by older...

[ncssian]

it’s almost winter and there’s new taylor songs sooo… time to bring back taylor swift songwriting drabbles

***

I Was There (Nessian)

In the beginning

“You can’t do this to me anymore.”

Cassian blinked at the unexpected words, twisting to face her from the passenger seat of his truck. “Nesta, I thought we already settled this.”

She shook her head, her grip bone white on the steering wheel despite the fact that they were parked behind an abandoned Target. “Not for me. It’s not settled for me.”

What had been the last straw for her? When he came begging to have her back last night without apologizing, or even before that? When he forgot her birthday because he was out clubbing with Mor, or when he stayed silent when she first told him she loved him?

Nesta pulled the car keys out of the ignition before she could convince herself to stop.

It was a risk to fall for him, she’d known. Older, more rich, more powerful— he knew everything and she knew nothing. But he had had such a charming way of making it all disappear when they were alone by themselves. The way he looked at her in private alone could be enough to convince anyone that they were fated lovers. There was no unequal footing between them when he was kissing her, praising her, laughing with her, fucking her.

“You promised not even twelve hours ago,” he choked now. “We promised—we wouldn’t give up this time.”

And in the twelve hours since Cassian had left her apartment, Nesta had had too much time to think.“You were gone for two months, Cassian,” she refuted quietly. “It was radio silence for two months and then you came back like nothing happened.”

“Because we were taking a break!” he exploded at her. “We weren’t broken up, we were getting space—space that you first asked for.”

He was fuming, panicking, but Nesta could only shake her head in denial. That wasn’t how it went, she remembered how it went.

For all of Cassian’s good, she could no longer ignore the bad. For so long she had waited for him to be kinder, be better to her, until she forgot how to be kind to herself.

So this would be the kindest thing Nesta had ever done for herself: she took Cassian’s hand and placed his keys flat in his palm. “You can’t do this to me anymore,” she repeated in a wavery whisper.

***

Later that night, later that week, later that month, Nesta sobbed like she was the one who had been viciously broken up with. She sobbed like Cassian had died in her arms, and she had died with him.

***

Here at the end

Nesta sees things more clearly now. She sees where his disappointed stares and condescending words left papercuts on her skin, and she sees how his ego blinded him when she was breaking right in front of him.

Despite seeing everything, she still remembers sometimes. When she’s making her morning cup of coffee or getting lunch with her friends, when a new man asks for her number or when she passes a Chevy truck, she remembers how it used to be when she was willfully blind: kisses in the morning, thumb stroking over her hand when he couldn’t use his words, telling her “Fuck our ages, fuck what my friends think.” Pulling her in with addictive highs that always gave way to devastating lows.

She tries telling herself that there’s nothing in the past worth going back to, but it’s hard to believe herself when he did such a half-assed job at burying the skeleton of their love.

And at the end of the day, no matter how much time passes and she starts to pull herself out of that grave, that’s the one question that haunts her days: It was love, why didn’t he ever call it love?

***

idk if anyone on my taglist cares about drabbles but ill test it out:

@rarephloxes

@moodymelanist

@arinbelle

@sayosdreams

@bridgertononmymind

@live-the-fangirl-life

@a-court-of-valkyries

@secretlovelybeauty

@humanexile

@helion-ism

@my-fan-side

@royaltykxx

@xoblivisci

@planet-faerie

@katekatpattywack

@imagine-me

@meridainthedisneyland

@jungtaekwoonie-is-life

@rainbowcheetah512

@valkyriewarriors

@loosingdreams

@chosenfamily-valkyriequeens

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 1 of 2

SPOILER ALERT.

It's probably just the alcohol, but the beats of the music are starting to sound a little bit like a marching drum that's announcing war. She can feel herself dancing along to it, but her whole body is on alert, ready to switch to fight and flight any second.

"So, cool place huh?" The bloke in the leather jacket asks.

She tries to remember his name. Jeff something. Or maybe Jed. No, not Jed, she's thinking of Star Wars again. That's what happens when you binge watch a multiverse of movies in a single day.

Oh, yeah, that's right. She broke the multiverse.

Another shot of tequila, and she takes not-Jed's hand in hers. It doesn't feel right, at least not the way-

No.

She realises he asked her a question, but she can't remember what, and she just laughs, because that always works.

Encouraged, he leans in close and whispers into her ears. "How about we get out of here?"

"And go where, exactly?" She asks, but she's not sure he understands, not with how slurred the words come out.

She laughs again, and this time, it's bitter. This time, she's laughing at how this is so him, this getting drunk in the face of imminent danger and making a mess of things.

(But I'm not you.)

---

She's frozen in her place the second the glowing yellow door appears. But it's not for her, at least not this time.

She hasn't been on the run for a while. Doesn't need to be. Because even though she is the one who unleashed the chaos, it's the chaos that needs to be contained immediately. She's low on the list of priorities.

The TVA will come for her. But not right now.

---

It's extremely easy pretending to be a psychic. All she has to do is take her client's hands and enchant him, find a memory, describe it back to him.

Sometimes she does it just for fun, just to see the look of amazement on their faces.

Other times, she does it for the money she needs to survive.

"And I see a blonde woman. Very beautiful."

"That's my wife."

The way he smiles, loving and proud, makes her heart drop.

"What do you see in her future? Is she happy? Does she get the job at the magazine?"

There is definitely at least one timeline where she does get the job, but The Enchantress cannot exactly tell if it's this one. She can't actually see the future, after all.

She sees the colors drain from his face as her silence swallows the room. "She's going to be okay, right? I just want her to be okay."

(I just want you to be okay.)

There's that bitter laugh again, because-

No. She can't do this right now.

"She loves you very much", she whispers, to the man in front of her, and to the man who is not there to hear those words.

---

Mobius finds her in the middle of a concert by a Nirvana where Kurt Cobain never died. She can easily slip away, disappear into the screaming, writhing crowd if she wants.

Or she can just take him some place quiet and hear him out.

"Help us", Mobius pleads. He sounds exhausted, and not just physically. "We're outnumbered and outwitted. Our world is in danger."

"This isn't my world", she reminds him.

"Yet, you're here", he retorts.

Her smile is pained. "Where else will I go?"

He is sympathetic, like he always has been. And he offers her a new glorious purpose. "Come with me. We need you. He needs you."

She feels the air find its way out of her lungs the same way she pushed him out of her life- painfully, forcefully. "H-how is he?"

"He's okay... all things considered."

Now there's a cocktail of relief and disappointment that will give her months of sleepless nights.

"Tell him I'm-" she starts, but she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. What can she tell him? That she's sorry for not trusting him when she should have? That she's sorry for making the universes collide?

That she's sorry for betraying him and breaking his heart?

(How will I know you won't betray me at the end?)

"Nevermind."

---

It's been really hard facing the consequences of her actions, watching the timelines bleed into each other and destroy people's lives- families torn, achievements gone, every little anomaly delving into death and destruction. Every headline on the newspaper is her fault, and she has to live with that.

But that seems so easy compared to this moment where she has to face him.

The plan was to send him away, kill He Who Remains, give people their free will back, save the world, then come back to him. Yeah, he'd be mad at her at first, sure, but he'd forgive her eventually, she was confident.

Then the timelines started to branch the minute she stuck the dagger in that terrifying man's chest, and she knew she had screwed up.

She had sunk to the ground in defeat as the realisation of the repercussions hit her, and she did what she has always done- run.

She didn't even realise she had sent him to the wrong universe until she teleported herself into another universe as well. The journey back was long and lonely, but she dreamt of him in colors while the world was bleeding red, and that was enough to keep her going.

She doesn't really know what she'll do when she sees him again. Neither does she know what reaction she expects from him. Nothing he can say to her can be worse than what she thinks of herself.

A part of her hopes he would be overwhelmingly happy, he would come running to her, just like he did at The Void, greet her with the smile that has won a hundred hearts- including hers, and tell her everything will be alright. Another part of her fears that he would be furious, and he would confront her with accusations of unleashing havoc on all worlds- especially his.

What she never expected is this eerie calm that makes her feel like she is standing in the storm center.

His walls are up.

And it causes her to redirect the anger she feels at herself towards him. There's venom in her voice. "So you do get to rule, after all."

"I don't feel much like a king." He shrugs. "I'm more of a multiversal janitor. Mopping up multiversal messes."

"My messes."

"Our messes." He corrects, his features softening around the edges. "We made a mistake." He has been saying that ever since he found himself in the alternate TVA, and that hasn't changed even after getting back to his own version of the bureau. Always "we", never "she". He simply cannot bring himself to blame her without taking accountability for his part in the mess.

"Don't patronize me." Her hands are shaking, just like her voice, a sharp contrast to his steady silhouette, and can he just hold her, please? "I don't need you to take the fall for me."

His eyes go cold, like they were forged in the heart of Jotunheim. "Of course not", he says, fully composed. "You don't need me for anything. It's not like we're in this together."

(Maybe we can figure it out-together.)

---

She now knows her walls don't- can't- keep the hurt out- it just keeps her locked inside this cage of distrust and insecurities. And the price she has to pay for it is too high.

They could have been lying on a beach somewhere, sipping mimosas right now. Instead, they're here, in the vast, silent library of the TVA, sitting on separate tables, reading files on variants.

The only thing worse than bearing the weight of his gaze is having him stare at his files without looking in her direction even once. She can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly blurts out.

He looks up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry for what I did." She repeats. It's difficult to start an apology, but once she finds the strength to begin, the rest of it flows automatically. "I'm sorry I messed up everything. I'm sorry I broke the timelines. I'm sorry the world is in danger." She takes in a deep breath. "And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

His smile is the saddest kind. "A Loki betraying a Loki. That's the least surprising thing in the world. What's shocking is how I didn't see it coming. You really had me going with that kiss. Very nice distraction. Very Loki."

Free will comes with the fine-print of living with the consequences of your choices. And she has to live with hers every day. The tears finally spill out of her eyes. She hasn't let herself cry for a long, long time. But now she's breaking down worse than the multiverse. "I didn't do it to distract you. I did it to say goodbye."

He gets up, and she panics that he's leaving. Instead, he sits down in front of her, reaches for her hand, but changes his mind mid-way and lets them fall to his side. "You didn't have to say goodbye."

"It's all I've ever known." She feels like that scared little girl, far from home, running from minute men, with nobody to turn to but herself. "I told you, I don't have anyone."

"You had me."

That's the saddest part of it all, isn't it? Everything else in her life is the TVA's fault. She's torn from Asgard? Hasn't seen her parents in years? Can't remember her brother Thor? Spent her whole childhood running and hiding? All TVA.

But this? This is all her own doing. This is the one time she had something real, something worth holding onto, someone worth fighting against the world for. Instead, she questioned his intentions, didn't hold on, fought him and ruined everything.

"I didn't want to rule, Sylvie", he finally tells her. "I wanted you."

She has dreamed of this moment when he tells her how he feels. They have come so close to it so many times, the words dangling off the edge of his tongue but never quite finding their way out. She has always known- every word, every action pointed to it. But it was so hard to imagine someone could love her.

It's so hard to imagine someone can love her again. The past tense in his wording terrifies her worse than any danger ever could. "Is it too late to fix things?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "We are fixing things. That's why we are here. Saving the universe."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know how to trust you again, Sylvie." He tells her point blank- no deception, no lies, no Loki-ism. "And you never trusted me to begin with."

That's not entirely true. She trusts him more than she has trusted anyone. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know."

(Not to be dramatic, but yeah, we're saving the universe.)

---

The Avengers are much nicer than Loki described them, considering they don't kill her for what she has done, instead tell her about their own journeys towards redemption. Wanda tells her about the man she has loved and lost, and the pain she has caused to an entire town. Barnes talks about his past as a brainwashed assassin. Clint tells her the story of Natasha and how she took charge and changed her life.

Thor is the kindest of them all. He talks about how far Loki himself has come. He tells her stories of his version of Asgard, the nine realms, the glorious battles, the beauty of earth.

She still dreams of death, but sometimes she doesn't.

Sometimes, she hopes.

---

(To be continued)

[torturedshowgirll]

For the Elucien week drabbleathon, can I have Lucien finding out about his bio father and talking through his feelings with Elain?

ELUCIEN WEEK

DAY 7: FREE CHOICE

Okay so this is kinda funny to get this. I actually have this in my docs that's a multi chapter fic. The feelings bit with Elain is spoilery for the story itself so I can't share that...yet. But what I can do is show this part. Basically in this story, Elain finds out of Lucien's parentage through a vision and this scene below is what happens after that. It's set to be a few parts. Where Lucien deals with this information and then Lucien and Elain playing matemakers lmao. The chapter after this is where we deal with Lucien and talking to Elain I can tag you in it whenever I post this story to tumblr.

TRIGGER WARNING: very, very slight mention of child abuse

The three of them settled in the sun-lit room. For an office it was worlds different than Rhys' in the river estate back in Velaris. That room was a standard four walls. This one, Helion's office in the Day Court was a rounded room. Tall ivory columns wrap around the circular area. There were no windows, it was simply an open space allowing the sunlight and the warm kiss of its rays inside to dance along the tiled floor. Elain adored the sun peering in at every angle and the soft breeze that followed. She only wished they were here for better circumstances.

Glancing between the High Lord of Day and her mate, the resemblance was uncanny. From their posture, sitting regal yet with an air of recklessness to the silken strands of hair, matching grins, and the shape of their eyes. Mother above even their nose was the same. There was no denying her vision wasn’t false. They scarcely were.

When she told Lucien of seeing Helion and his mother, he refused to believe it. He was Beron's son unfortunately. His mother would never hide this from him. Elain pointed out to him that he did in fact cleave an unbreakable spell to come to her aide that day in Hyberns. No Autumn court member, high fae or otherwise had done that. Lucien attempted to pin it on the bond. Elain dismissed it bringing up his tendency to glow when in the throes of passion. The seer had once asked her sister if this common for faes to glow while being intimate. Feyre told her it was power from the High Lord of Day. Elain never could make sense of it. Why her mate glowed like a fire bug in the summer seasons until her vision. Lucien claimed it could be from a crossed lineage years ago.

“Lucien...you said you never felt like you were a Vanserra. That there was something wrong with you.”

“Maybe this is why. Because you’re not a Vanserra. We go to the Day Court and ask Helion says no then fine.”

There was panic and fear in his russet eyes when he looked at her. “What if he says yes?”

Elain crossed the threshold to her love taking his face in her hands, resting their foreheads together, her fingers lacing with his. “Then I will be there with you and together we will hear him out.”

With reluctance he agreed and now they were here, an awkward tension like a dense fog slowly filling the silent room.

Lucien leaned backed in the golden chair, hand flexing at fae speed on the arm of it, his equally golden eye whirring as it zeroed in on Helion. The High Lord's brows quirked up in amusement, a roguish smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

"I've always wondered what that eye of yours could do. What it could see." Elain's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, Helion's gaze fell on her offering a wink, "Petal." He purred, "Is it alright if I call you petal?"

The smile he gave her could turn someone's insides into liquid heat. No wonder he had as many lovers as there were clouds in the sky. She chuckled before answering, shifting in her seat, "Elain is fine."

"Ah, I see. We don't want to upset your mate and have him feel left out."

Helion turned to Lucien who remained silent and watching. A steely gaze on his father, Not father and his boots tapping with the same ferocity as his hand. Elain reached through the bond feeling wave after wave of anxiousness roiling through him. It was enough to make her feel nauseous like they were in a sea of turbulent waters instead of seated, far away from any ocean. His heart, she could tell, was battering so quickly Elain was surprised it didn’t fling directly out of chest. There was something else she noticed in the bond. Realization. He knew. And Lucien was not handling it well in his mind. Elain poured her affections down the bond then overlapping her hand with his. Sweeping a thumb over his knuckles. A silent statement to say, I'm here.

Elain smiled tenderly, noting the appreciation in his russet eye as Lucien glanced at her fingers. Sliding in between his own, squeezing them in reassurance. He repeated the action to her, holding tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Then his eyes met hers. The nervousness etched on his beautiful face softened. Her heart fluttered as it always did when he looked at Elain this way. Like she was his home. His comfort. His everything. Just as he was hers.

Helion coughed a bit too loudly to be real, breaking their moment, "I hate to break up this lovely storybook moment petal. If this is about the Pegasus who ate Rhys' shirt. One Rhys should come and two he left it in the stables. If you’ll excuse me, I do have a party to prepare for and guests will be arriving shortly.” Helion made to stand.

"Sit.” Lucien snarled. Helion’s eyes widened at the pitch and the bite of the one word. “We don't know anything about a Pegasus. We're here on our own accord." Lucien curtly stated.

The two high fae stared each down as Helion slid back into his chair. The fog thick tension is now so deep a knife could only strike it. Helion lifted a hand over his heart " Unfortunately, I don't take mated mates as lovers. I'm honored you thought of me to share your bed." He teased with a lovers grin. The fire in Lucien’s eye was a roaring flame. He was several seconds from exploding. Elain has seen him angry, furious, but nothing like this. If he wasn’t her mate, she’d be frightened at the burning rage beneath him.

"I find that odd. Being if Feyre or Nesta were here you'd take the chance." Elain challenged feeding off the energy her mate emitted.

"I-" His eye shuttered briefly before meeting Elain's again, "Sweet petal," he crooned before he could speak again Elain cut him off feeling Lucien's waring feelings churning through the bond.

"There's a reason you'd deny me. Us. I think it deals with a vision I had and Lucien." She gripped her mate tighter feeling his hand grow clammy yet white hot beneath her own.

Helion grew quiet, brows pressed together, his tanned chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Holding a stern gaze with Lucien. "Of?"

"The past."

Helion blanched, the color of his skin fully drained. All hints of the easy going High Lord faded into nothing. A mask of steel replaced it.

"What did you see?" His voice faltered, shaking and strained. He cleared his throat, aiming for a deeper tone in his voice. One that caused anyone to listen and obey. If an ominous storm with roaring thunder that streaked the sky in lighting had a voice it would’ve sounded like this. It came through gritted teeth in a low predatory growl. "What did you see?"

"You will not speak to her like that." Lucien snapped. Slamming his fists on the desks sparks of embers shot from his hands. Elain jumped back into the chair. Helion had the good sense to look startled for a moment, "Unlike you or my mother, she doesn't keep things from me." then Lucien added that and the steeled features returned.

It was Helion’s turn to stand and move for move copy his son’s actions. “Listen boy. I will rip your throat out if you insult your mother like that in my presence again are we clear?”

Lucien scoffed. Not the usual playful scoff Elain had grown accustomed to. This was laced with malice. “You don’t think I’ve heard threats like this before? My entire life? "I've been beaten for saying less.”

Elucien watched as the emotionless expression Helion wore quickly faded. Now his face crumbled. Pained with grief, the glow in his eyes gone as he stepped away from Lucien. Her eyes darted between the two. This wasn’t just protecting a secret she realized. There was love here. For the lady of the autumn court, and for his son. Her mate.

"I'm sorry." Helion let out in a defeated sigh. "Forgive me. forgive us."

For as fast as that heated anger ripped through Lucien, it seemed to to die down. Like the loud sigh for Helion somehow cooled her mate down.

"I-" Lucien turned to Elain unsure of what to do. Elain did not respond the whites of her eyes rolled up, her body falling back into the chair.

Mate.

The word seared in her head, when thrust back into the past, seeing Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court together. As if her inner eye was speaking to her, revealing a part neither Lucien nor herself were ready for. Now she felt it. The golden spark tethering two souls. Pure, protective, unbreakable love. Seconds later she came back to reality.

Lucien no longer standing at the desk but kneeling in front of her. Calloused palms on hers while he searched her features.

“Elain?”

She didn’t look at him. Her gaze landed on Helion who took a step back.

“You’re mates."

“There are things bigger than telling you the truth. Stakes are high dealing with him and a situation like ours. This conversation cannot happen here.” Helion drew a finger to follow as he stood. “Ears are everywhere in Prythian. You should know this.” He fixed a sorrowful look on Lucien. “We will talk in my inner office.”

elucienweek taglist: @ladyvanserra @helion-ism @bookologist @firestarsandseneschals @thecrownlands @rarephloxes @elucienweek @nestaisgod