#((SHIT I FORGOT THE PALETTE FOR HIS WINGS))

[hello-universe-lovers]

"My love! We're here to rescue you from your unjust and foul imprisonment!!"

The bard/cupid boi is here and he's got a lot of love!

Rant under the cut

Doesn't he look adorable!? Idk why but I love him! (Honestly I like all of my voice designs)

I honestly had no solid idea on how to color him. Like I got the shape and general palette down, but picking exact shades took WAY too long. That is until a certain salty fish told ne He looked like a cupid/bard hybrid, so I leaned into it for my colors. He is probably the shortest voice in my version, bc I love the trope of "Tiny man with a lot of love" (probably bc my own bf is short ^^).

Minor details time!:

- what the heart lock is for? That's up to you to think about! ;)

- His lyre is to scale. Its BIG on him.

- The gems on his lyre has the color of the Sapphic flag. (Woman liker/j)

- He doesn't like his bird features, so he tries his best to hide them, except for his wings. He can say he looked like an angel with those wings.

- Similarly, that's why he covers his hands (talons are unsightly) and wears baggy clothes (so his feathers don't suffocate him).

- His pupils are a conscious choice. He needs to look conventionally attractive to the Princess. If not, then how can she love him?!

- His Princess is funnily enough the Tower (which explains his attitude)

- The yellow feather looks like a halo, and will morph depending on how he feels.

- Sing, poetry, soliloquy, he'll do anything to make the people he love happy! So be happy!

LET'S HOPE HE IS MENTALLY SANE/sarcasm

[hanakihan]

UUUUUGH so anyway really quick ruler salieri A3 look that I wanted to mirror count’s but yea

since in my eyes ruler salieri is convergence of actual salieri as a caster and avenger salieri, this look is supposed to mirror his late life in a way?

Rant under if you’re interested in details

- multiple detached clawed hands reflecting how he put his hand on everything in music world, detachment reflecting how later in life he was unable to create anymore. two of them holding misericordia, the one avenger salieri uses as a remnant of bad fame clinging to him, other one hands conductor baton is form of a needle

- all the threads coming out of his neck (in fact are strings used in instruments) and ties and bows is both a ref to wailing exterior, attack patterns and him being heavily restrained after rumors started, as well as loss of mental stability and autonomy in hospital

- mix of white/red and black/gold is self explanatory ig

- tried to go into classic opera vibe and palette mixed in with your classical biblical stuff hence why pure white (his restored reputation in recent years) gradients to dripping blood/charred black (the false rumors forever plaguing him), also more references to wailing exterior with its red wings because yknow gotta feed that biblical portrayal ig

- pendant moved closer to neck like in a portrait because he has sentimental attachment to it

- half of face and neck is covered in blooming bloody flowers as a final stage of suicide denial/proof, the mourning and blooming of life in one go

- absolutely not noticeable but on his neck he has those fancy red gemstones (in his case blood) neck accessories that imitate blood droplets, plus all the blood strings from his neck to keep it all together as well as providing control over hands

- absolutely forgot (as usual lmao) but he’s supposed to have a faint shattered resemblance of a halo which is basically that one rainbow effect diamonds give when under light

- he absolutely floats here around being civil and rather nice until he isn’t and his NP is literally creates a local marble which is basically an opera hall with orchestra and he pretty much does what humanity did to him (I honestly idek after all the shit he went through man deserves to be sweetly aggressive while also being support focused ruler???)

[drossna]

caduceus lvl.20 redesign i did ages ago but forgot to post

copious amounts of design notes under the cut

tl;dr: my goal with this redesign was to create a coherent design consistent with his previous art, improved enough to hopefully read as lvl.20, but still practical enough to serve as actual adventuring clothes

okay anyways so watch how autistic i can be about caduceus

i wasn't satisfied with caduceus's lvl.20 design. i'm not entirely sure how that design happened. to be fair, critrole designs have never been consistent, but lvl.20 cad abandons nearly every key aspects of cad's design. it drives me batty

why is his hair so straight and pale and dead. why is he draped in so much brown. how do those wing-skirt things work. why does his staff... look like that. like its gonna explode into toothpicks at the first use. why is there honey. why is the gold of his shield so bright. what is the rope on his shoulders for

i mean, who knows what goes on in the critrole art development process. my personal theory is that they continue to design these characters as personal ocs and not as official characters in a huge multimedia franchise, and their personal choices trump all, design considerations be damned. like, i cant really judge. i have the privilege to make whatever choices i want when drawing. i answer to no one. i could tell taliesin jaffe to go fuck himself. yknow. if i wanted to die

regardless, i dont hate everything about the lvl.20 design. i appreciate that it brought back his swirl-patterned pants, but the entire core of his design is so busy with shit that it becomes a problem

i tried to preserve cad's key aspects as much as i could in my redesign, as well as incorporate aspects i enjoyed most from each design. for example, i really like the idea of the goliath beetle armour in lvl.20 cad, but i tinted the black shell towards blue to match cad's signature teal green.

I also tried to create a palette consistent with his previous designs. teal should always be his primary colour, with pink being the most prominent accent. after that, anything thats analogous to those two is gravy. for real, i am begging critrole to at least keep consistent palettes, because this is a problem for most of their designs

my choice to include the red cords is inspired by the winter cad design as well as one of fjord's earlier designs (side note: most of fjord's designs are pretty great; he's the most consistently on-par)

i enjoy drawing aesthetic parallels between connected characters. on that note, the swirly jade earring is a gift from beau :3 because they're fun earring buddies

speaking of cad's winter design, the design sheet showed a lot of asian influence (thats mostly covered by the cloak) and i will take any excuse to add asian influence to a design. the first two tunics below were my main reference for my own tunic choice

the knots on the cords are specifically chinese knot art. the largest knot at his waist is a plate knot which can symbolize the cyclical nature of life and death, and the knot on his cape is a brocade knot which can symbolize (re)unity. i thought these concepts were in-line with cad's general philosophy and the wildmother's teachings. also, the brocade knot acts as his holy symbol with a crook-shaped pin woven through the cord. i really fuck with holy symbols being integrated into a design rather than just slapped on somewhere

lightning round design notes:

the fraying woven material is witch hair moss, which i imagine could be made very soft and warm. this is my version of the neutral-coloured flynet cape in the fourth design

i brought back the iconic pink lichen

i simplied the staff again. my way of visually portraying a growth in power is that the one wooden hand has transformed into many hands grasping the crystal, which is also a representation of cad widening his social circle and of the nein in general

cad curly hair and beard so important to me

cad wide nose so important to me

final note:

the pose i chose for caduceus was very intentional. while cad looks great in a power pose, i feel like it doesnt suit his character. his power isnt so confrontational. his power is quiet and gentle and humble and inevitable. he doesnt need to show off. he's just chilling. i love this dumb silly man

and for the record, while i consider cad to be the worst lvl.20 design, jester is a guaranteed second place. very tempted to redesign her as well, because mature-but-frilly pirate lolita is right up my alley

[bearschronicdiary]

Hi hii!! My first post! Waasss going to do a cool bio, but I need to research more, people do cool shit for that lmao.

But I made this cutesy kitty keychain for my friend! Ignore the South Park in the background lmao

I got the idea from a tiktok slideshow about DIY projects, so I just went in, winging the process lmao. I can show where I got the inspo from, if anyone reads this (lol imagine) and is curious. Not sure of the original creator </3

They used pink fabric, I decided to use some of my partner's old jeans!

I added a lil (accidentally off-centre ;;;) butthole like Pompompurin! I thought adding little paw pads that match the ears' shape would be cute, and also to spruce up the other side of the plushie.

I harvested the pink buttons off a Strawberry Shortcake cardigan (got it from New Look, but here!)

I already bought the adorable heart button at my local haberdashery! Cheers, Creaseys.

When drafting the rough shape of the kitty, using a cotton bud with water can help sharpen or undo your chalk markings.

NOTE! I didn't fully wash off the chalk on the final product, but simply using a damp paper towel/washcloth could probably clean the lil guy.

I wanted the attaching string of the buttons to look like cat eye slits, but I don't think it translated over much :PP This was my very first plushie, so I was sooo nervous cutting further and actually sewing it together!!

You can have an easy, cohesive palette by using the inside bit of the jeans! The denim's weft and warp usually makes two differently coloured sides, so you get two colours for the price of one!

But I finally slimmed him up, pinned him up, and ta-daaaa! I used scraps of denim fabric for the stuffing inside! I debated perfuming it for my friend, but meeehh. I also used a belt loop off the same pair of jeans as a keychain loop! Simply sewed it between the ears when doing the final outline stitch. Backstitch for liiffee.

I'm glad I managed to finish him in time, cause we had a VERY impromptu meet-up with our mates that very night, just forgot to fully wash off the chalk, teehee.

With a liberal usage of fabric glue and a......... rustic(?) look at the very end, I'm still super happy with the result, and I can only hope my friend (and maybe you!) loves it too :3

[iantimony]

a day late because yesterday i was tooooo busy! some spoilers in here for dungeon meshi and saltburn!

listening: mostly background stuff. i still haven't played more nier: automata but the boyf got me listening to the soundtrack and it whips.

reading: more tgcf at night to soothe my frenzied brain to sleep. i finished dungeon meshi yesterday!! i did cry!!! it was so, so good, i loved it. i really liked that there was no set antagonist, per se, at least not until the very end with the fight against the winged lion, it was all just a bunch of characters with different but justifiable goals that had their aims all butting up against each other. very cool. i love kabru what a little shit

a collection of some good screenshots:

watching: many things this week. my partner is visiting for the week and we like to have videos on while we're cooking n eating so we watched...essentially the entirety of weird history food channel, started with the trader joes one and spiraled from there.

we also watched the currently-released episodes of dungeon meshi. very charming. i cannot wait to see how they animate certain scenes.

on sunday night we did a friend dinner, so me and my boyfriend, roommate and hers, and one other friend; after dinner we movie night-ed it and watched saltburn and blazing saddles:

saltburn was insane! apparently there is shock and alarm at the sex scenes, which i am not very online about it so i have no idea what people are actually saying but imo it was not that crazy. there is a solo, uh, let's call it Moment towards the end of the film that is pretty out there, but besides that the sex scenes are the least of anyone's worries in this movie. it took me WAY too long to realize that the main character was the antagonist, i'm normally pretty savvy to those kinds of twists so that took me off guard. my roommate had seen it once (or even twice?? i think?? i have no wish to watch that movie again, good for her though) and i didn't start clocking it until immediately before felix tricked oliver into going home. as they were in the car i was like "there's no fucking way that he lied about his family to felix. right. right??" oops. some good cool symbolism in there, i had a bit of an xkcd "of course everyone knows this myth" moment when my roommate was like "huh i wonder if there's a symbolic reason for the bull-man statue in the maze at the end, or felix's angel wing costume" and i was like surprise pikachu. the minotaur, the labyrinth, icarus, hello? wdym you don't know the story of the minotaur??? much to think about with this movie. i searched it on tumblr and feel like a lot of people missed the point in favor of blorbo romance but like, fair, it is the blorbo romance website. 8.5/10.

blazing saddles was our palette cleanser after that doozy of a film. my friend said at the end "anyone who thinks this movie is racist needs better media literacy" and i'm inclined to agree. yes the n word is in there - but the people saying it are so unambiguously depicted as insanely stupid and wrong, and the leading man is a charismatic handsome black man, and tbh the smartest person in the movie? arguably more homophobic (the end scenes) than racist but even then the way 'f*ggot' is deployed hit me like modern tumblr humor.

idk. even though it's a comedy it is Very clear to me that a message from this movie is "Racism Bad". i thought it was fun, didn't find the blonde lady's musical number very good or funny, got a few chuckles out of it overall. classic mel brooks. 7/10.

playing: wizord101.

making: started experimenting with english paper piecing! i forgot to take a picture yesterday so ill try to remember and add that later today. or maybe for next week's post. also started a pair of fingerless gloves for my mom

eating: my boy made us all a budae-jjigae type object on sunday and it was so so so yummy - photo from before simmering for like 30 minutes, with pork belly, spam, tofu, and a bunch of mushrooms, grunions, and kimchi:

before my roommate came back from a conference we did this cabbage and thin-sliced hotpot beef thing that was. so fucking good. we had it two separate nights in a row. just layering meat and napa cabbage and then cutting into ~2in strips, laying them in a pot, filling the center with mushrooms; make a broth of soy sauce/dashi/misc soup stock powder from leftover ramen, pour it over, simmer til cooked baby. delicious. this image is a little steamy bc i tried to take it right after opening the pot, lol

misc: wough. struggling to get back into the routine a little. i need to make more spreadsheets for my agonies (apartment hunting and determining what internships/programs to apply to for this summer). and i need to start using my planner again because i keep forgetting to do shit.

[emduo]

my personal hexxit hardcore hcs/thoughts. Grins

-pretend i added the hx! thing in front of their names here ok im too lazy to retype it . im talking about their mc characters not them as people. whatever .you understand

-both of them started off human but became hybrids. classic mcrp design choice . phil is a chocobo (mainly has the feet, wings, tail and ear feathers etc), he is mostly flightless but can float a little and runs and jumps way faster #hardcoreparkour. schlatt is a bighorn sheep (horns, hooves, tail) though it would also be cool to me if he looked more like the questing ram! not 100% sure yet. phil’s also either a gold or yellow chocobo 2 me <- ik black chocobos exist and would fit into his typical design more but shhhh I don’t care. this also is my justification for why phil was so fond of chocobos etc

-my justification for them being part mob is like. every time they hack into the server to revive themselves they have to take some kind of energy or matter from their world/living beings around them to replace the energy/parts of themselves that they lost when they died. like absorbing their life forces or whatever. i.e. schlatt first died landing on his feet so he grows hooves in their place, phil suffocated so i like to think that maybe his lungs/stomach/other internal organs changed a bit, and when they both died together they got exploded + died of fall damage so other various chunks of their bodies got transformed/replaced.

-basically. they look very out of place at first but over time they visually become more and more like the world around them. if i had the energy to draw this whole process it would basically just show not only their clothes and bodies changing, but their color palettes/art style transforming a bit as well until they match the world’s aesthetic more.

-speaking of aesthetic God i fucking love how hexxit looks and feels. the colors especially… just very simplistic and nostalgic and dreamy, idk how else to word it. probably feels that way bc it’s an older version of minecraft. tbh i listen to music a lot to get inspired for hxhc ideas and kubbi + gorillaz + some of philza’s stream playlist + random stereotypical dnd/old fantasy game music are my biggest inspirations

-i used to also draw parts of them as glitching and slowly losing chunks of themselves to represent them deteriorating over time from prolonging their lives unnaturally, not sure how to work that into their designs anymore but i still like it

-also they do Not just suddenly stop their adventure on episode 5 idc. im playing hexxit 2 myself and there’s sooo much shit they could go explore. in my mind palace pretending they fought the twilight lich or fell into limbo (like i did… ermph). and schlatt still has that fucking mirror. and they still live in that shitty r/malelivingspace ice cave with their ghost armadillo

-they do in fact share a bed and i never forgot that detail . its so silly to me. schlatt is hogging that entire blanket and randomly elbowing and kicking phil all night and it’s so miserable

-hxhc being canon to dsmp would not make sense at all but it’s really funny to me so ive added it to my belief system. they don’t even get to meet each other in dsmp afaik so who cares, plus i can’t remember shit about the revive book but that could explain why schlatt specifically would know how to revive people from the dead… red string on corkboard i know

-in my dreams i see that place….. pink door + lawn

[trashcankitty12]

Mirta Headcanons:

Mirta Vaughn, one of the few ‘magical chimeras’ to live so publicly. (A witch turned fairy chimera too, much like a certain headmistress.)

So who is Mirta? 

Kind, yes. Somewhat naive at first? Sort of, though she feels it’s more that she just likes to believe in the good of people...

Either way, we’re going to learn just a tad more about her.

(All headcanons are for my main verses: The New Company of Light/Balance and Left. Use if you want. I don’t mind. :) Also, I forgot to add in what I think her enchantix look would be like, but I know it’s in my ‘book 4′. Somewhere...)

-Mirta’s family used to move around a lot, which made it difficult for little Mirta to make friends as a kid.

-After she turned 10, her family finally managed to stay in one realm for a long time, Inseca, which is where she made friends with Lucy.

-(Inseca is also where she considers her homerealm to be… She’s never felt home anywhere else.)

-Lucy was pretty popular at the school, and Mirta ended up gaining sort of ‘second-hand popularity’.

-(What she doesn’t realize is that she was one of the few true friends Lucy had. One of the few who said what she meant and didn’t just take shit off of her.)

-Her father works as a Magical Dimension’s version of a government contractor, which is why he and his family moved so much. His goal was to try and help the Council secure peace and find ways of bringing the realms together to try and prevent a second war.

-Her mother’s a stay-at-home mom and they are rather close. (Though there are times when Mirta wishes her mother would be more of a mom than a friend…)

-She keeps it hidden, but Mirta does enjoy style, but it’s more hair than fashion. She loves to come up with new ways to do her hair and style it up. (Her favorite being her current bob and colored strand, she finds it shapes her face rather well.)

-Mirta has a large family that’s scattered around the Magical Dimension. Some of them are people she’s never even had a chance to meet. (But there are a few cousins she’s close too. They were her first friends.)

-Mirta’s ‘signature shirt’ isn’t just because she likes Pumpkins, it’s a band t-shirt that Lucy had gotten her for her birthday and she just adores it.

-She was shocked when her magic came in and she’d caused her drawing to come to life. Neither one of her parents had magic and it was quite a shock.

-(Of course, come to find out, she’s adopted… And they told her about her parents, how they’d helped fight in the Great War for Magic alongside the Company of Light… How they’d left little Mirta to them, her godparents.)

-It was hard for her and she had a small breakdown, but thankfully Lucy was there and helped her better understand her magic and what she was capable of.

-Lucy was the one who convinced Mirta to apply for Cloud Tower with her. She had always known she was a witch, and because illusion magic is traditionally a dark magic skill, she’d assumed Mirta was a witch too.

-It was an adjustment being at Cloud Tower and surrounded by all of the other witches. (Especially due to their attitudes toward light magic and fairies. They really bummed Mirta out.)

-She was always able to make friends with anyone, no matter their magical alignment, so hearing the things her fellow witches were saying made her angry. Angry enough to speak up and try to help change minds. (Which sucked when it didn’t work out.)

-What really hurt though, was the 180 Lucy pulled. It was like she couldn’t even recognize her best friend anymore. (She couldn’t recognize the girl she loved anymore.)

-(Mirta’s always known she was into women. She noticed when her middle school friends started talking about boys and all she could think of was how amazing they were.)

-Being turned into a pumpkin was extremely weird. She could hear and see what was going on, but she was paralyzed and unable to move (unless she concentrated really hard on her leaves and vines, but that always left her with a migraine). And she was unable to speak, even when she wanted too.

-Her parents were notified about her… Change in appearance by Flora. But because they didn’t have magic, there wasn’t much they could do. And no one wanted to bring in Griffin or Faragonda. (Though Mirta has no idea why they wouldn’t bring them in… But she couldn’t argue considering her predicament.)

-Watching the way the Winx girls interacted with each other and stood by one another made her a little jealous. She’d never had such a close friend group before, and it just… Stung.

-(It stung less though, when Flora tried to help bring her into the fold and made sure to pay attention to her too.)

-Becoming human again was a weird experience too. She had to relearn how to walk and talk. (And fast, because there was a major fight brewing and they needed all hands-on deck.)

-(She still has nightmares of being a pumpkin… Unable to move or speak while horrible and unspeakable things happen to her loved ones… It’s all too much.)

-In a way, Mirta was happy that the Trix attacked Magix because it finally opened up Lucy’s (and the other CT witches’) minds on just how dangerous they were. And it gave a perfect opportunity for the witches and fairies to learn how to work together.

-(And it allowed Mirta and Lucy a chance to speak. It was great, having each other back in their lives.)

-The battle is also the first time Mirta transformed. (Though it took her forever to figure out how to transform again afterword…) Lucy had been pinned and Mirta summoned as much magic as she could to save her friend. Which is what led to her wings showing up.

-After all was said and done, she knew she had to transfer. Thankfully, there were no hard feelings.

-Morgan, Flora, and (surprisingly) Amaryl made sure her transition to Alfea went smoothly.

-She actually joined a club or two while she was there; cooking club and a witch/fairy alliance sort of club.

-(She ended up not being the best at cooking… But she had fun learning and trying!)

-Mirta’s family was super supportive of her being a fairy, too. Her mother even helped her throw a ‘welcome wings’ party. (Which was sweet, but a little over the top!)

-She may not seem like it, but Mirta does have a slight daredevil streak. At least, when it comes to theme park rides. The faster and higher it goes, the more fun it is. Lucy accuses her of being an adrenaline junkie… She may be right.

-Cherie, her pixie, has really helped Mirta flesh out more of her fairy nature. She helped Mirta find her magic center and her wings, helping her be able to transform at will like other fairies can.

-And, on a more debatable note, Cherie helped Mirta figure out her fashion sense. (Meaning Mirta still very much liked the punk look, thank you, but she can see the appeal in softer palette colors.)

-Mirta is a vegetarian. She adores all the fun and intricate meals you can make with just fruits and vegetables and spices. However, she might have lost the taste for pumpkin for a while�� For reasons.

-Despite being a fairy, Mirta has found she can still tap into dark magic when she needs too. And she doesn’t hesitate to do so when people she cares about are in danger.

-Mirta is good at many things… Swimming is not one of them. She sinks. So, she doesn’t typically get into water over 4ft deep.

-She is also not the best at sports. She doesn’t have good hand-eye coordination. Which is fine, she prefers to cheer from the sidelines anyway!

-One thing she found that she’s pretty good at is the trumpet. When Galatea arrived to Alfea, she convinced Mirta to help her with the band and… The rest is history.

-Mirta’s slow to anger, preferring to either ignore the problems/bullying or to just take it. And trust me, she can take it. It doesn’t bother her. Now messing with her friends or family, however, is a different story…

-After she graduated from Alfea, Mirta was super glad she wouldn’t be dealing with anymore crazy shenanigans from the Winx. Even if Lucy did manage to get dragged into another adventure, she managed to find a way to detour it.

-Not that she doesn’t care about her friends or the Magical Dimension, but sometimes fighting evil is exhausting and she really just doesn’t have the stomach for it.

-But she likes to pitch in every now and again. Power in numbers after all.

-Currently, she’s working with her older cousin at his salon and spa as a hair and makeup artist. Her illusion abilities come in quite handy so she can show her customers what the look will be like before they make the selection and spend all that time and money to get the look.

-She loves the work she does and is super happy to be working with family. (Even if her cousin does get on her nerves sometimes… He’s just so picky…)

[musicreviewweeklynorthkorea]

ALBUM REVIEW: KANYE WEST - “JESUS IS KING”

Alright its Kanye West time again and now he’s gone from Christian to Very Christian, at least for this cycle. I listened to this album earlier today but i’m going to give it another spinnaducchio.  The responses i’ve seen to this album on Twitter today were predictably negative, and brought out the inner “r/atheism” in a lot of people. When this album was announced it made a lot of sense to me. For whatever reason, he made that choice to step into the right wing media sphere, clearly ended up way in over his head, and said fuck it my president is Jesus Christ. Pulling the “Only God can judge me” card is a classic last resort for a dumb pissed off guy losing an argument. So we have this album, which possesses a kitschiness to it that I believe a lot of people will backtrack and acknowledge once the dust from it’s non existent controversy has settled.  The lack of interest and momentum leading up to it’s release is staggering when compared to the releases of basically everything else he’s done this decade. I recall Kanye referring to himself as  “black new wave” artist, and how he once compared the Yeezus-to-TLOP album cycle to Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska-to-Born in the USA album cycle.  He passively mentioned liking Nine Inch Nails on Sway back in the wake of Yeezus.  Point being Kanye has both consciously and subconsciously used the rock canon as a parallel to his own sound throughout his career, more frequently and meticulously than any other rapper (maybe Danny Brown?). So with that said, “Jesus Is King” can be placed on the classic rock gradient nearest to “80′s Bob Dylan”.  The same way plenty of 30 year old boomers wear themselves out with noise, industrial, avant whatever and accept their old age with vaporwave, lo fi beats to study and relax to, and Steely Dan, Kanye has also done with his own palette of easy listening, electronica, and gospel.

EVERY HOUR _  I mean, this is just chopped up gospel chords, i could probably listen to this on loop all day. I have nothing negative to say about it. Most of these songs have that rushed, half finished quality of his recent music, more so than “ye”, and that will be a bigger factor in people disliking this thing than the religious stuff or bad lyrics or whatever.

Selah - Lots of references to the Bible, don’t really know any of them. Let’s listen on. hmmmmm.  whatever

FOLLOW GOD - RZA type beat, there was 1 real stinker lyric on here but i already forgot it. this songs basically about talking to your dad on the phone.

CLOSED ON SUNDAY - “You my Chic-fil-A/you my number 1 with lemonade” man, that sucks. Also this song has some very beleaguered lyrics warning people to stay away from his family which offers an incline into whatever insane shit Kim and Kanye have going on in their lives. It’s a recurring thing, celebrities going religious or pivoting to the right politically after coming in close contact with the boundless depravities of the upper classes. Maybe hes just a rich mentally ill guy losing sleep over his massive debts. Little bit of both probably. The beat is moody, mostly drumless and sound like it was made with a Trans Siberian Orchestra beat pack. I’d skip this one.

ON GOD - The P’ierre Bourne beat is great, but Kanye’s mad at the IRS because he’s a fox news grandpa. Lil Uzi Vert belongs here instead

EVERYTHING WE NEED feat TY DOLLA $IGN & ANT CLEMMONS - Basically a snippet of a song on repeat. Sounds like it was picked off the cutting room floor of any sessions between TLOP and now, without any further work done to it. But its pleasant and hypnotic. The more intricate, thought out moments of the album have been the worst so far.  Low stakes moments like this give the project the charm of a beat tape. 

WATER feat. Ant Clemmons - I love that damn bass.  All the production here actually. Everything actually clicks on this song, sonically, thematically. I predict there will be a 10 hour version of this on Youtube soon enough. Highlight of the album. 

GOD IS - This is the closest thing to an actual contemporary gospel song. Kanye’s singing is strained and the lyrics are abou a certain little ol’ desert carpenter who had his own share of critics for saying weird stuff. Makes you think.

HANDS ON - Methinks someone doth listenedth too “Age Of” by Oneohtrix Point Never. Compositionally it reminds me of The Station. The minimal electric blue of JIK’s coverless vinyl and tracklisting both look like something out of the Daniel Lopatin School of Repurposing Old Uncool Shit into New Cool Shit. What little album art exists evokes a hazy nostalgia of daytime cable televangelist programming. 

USE THIS GOSPEL feat Clipse & Kenny G - uh everything i just wrote for the last song just read it again. Same idea. 

JESUS IS LORD - Very abrupt ending ok. And a prettier moment of the album, with bright horns that recall The Social Experiment. The melody barely resolves before the 49 seconds are up. It feels like a “fuck you”, a pouty “if you all hate me so much then this is all i’ll let you see of my musical genius!”, which is honestly the best way this album could end. Kanye’s pettiness, his ego, his bitterness being the very last note he leaves you with on an album about being a follower of Jesus lol. 

There’s a pretty clean split between the front and back half of this album. The front is bad and the back is good. People hit middle age, realize that they’re not cool anymore and get really into God or model trains or whatever so this album is for them. 

[jadedbirch]

Would you please: 5. and / or 8 - pairing of your own choice and/or 17- silverhamilton obviously I know I am greedy. :-)) ♥Thanks♥

Thanks Olina!  Well, first of all, I had to make DECISIONS here.  So I chose 8 (being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward) with the “pairing of my choice” aka Pirate Disgustoids.  And I don’t know how you feel about the Penis PJ Verse, but it makes me very happy, and I’ve been sick for over a week, so HERE WE ARE.  Gross™.

Silver lay on his stomach, right on the rug, in the middle of the predominantly empty room that he intended to turn into Flint’s new work space, his finger idly swiping across his iPad as he browsed through yet another furniture catalog.  

“I need to get you some shelves,” Silver said without looking up.  “You have shelves in your studio. I know this, because I have spent a fairly respectable amount of time in your studio, like the adoring and attentive boyfriend that I am.”

“Yeah, on your knees,” Flint called back from the corner by the window, where he had already set up a canvas and was busy mixing his unrecognizable palette.  He certainly was working outside the realm of his usual hues and it made him pause and doubt himself even more than usual in the process.

“Vulgar,” Silver muttered to himself and continued his exploration.  “If you don’t help me pick these out, I’ll just do it myself, and then you’re going to whine about how they’re not absolutely perfect because you like your plebby shit from the consignment store that smells like yesteryear’s grandma.”

“Who’s being vulgar now?” Flint chuckled.  He stroked his brush over the canvas, adding depth lovingly to the image before him.  If only he could do it justice so that everyone who would look at the painting in the future understood what an unstoppable force it was: this new ocean he’d been painting.

“What about chrome?” Silver called out from the floor and Flint wrinkled his nose.  “Nevermind, I can tell you hate it by the way you clench your ass.”

“Stop staring at my ass then.”

“You’re the absolute definition of an ingrate.”

“No, I’m the absolute definition of a person who doesn’t want you to buy him shit.”  Flint smiled as he spoke, casting a look behind him at Silver.  His hair spilled like a waterfall over both sides of his face, hiding him from sight like a mystical curtain.  Flint looked back at his canvas and wondered what it was missing.

Silver managed to be quiet for a few more minutes, flipping through the images on his screen as if hypnotized by the shapes and colors.  “I just want you to be comfortable,” he finally sighed, pushing the iPad away and sprawling onto his back, eyes fixed firmly on the blank ceiling.  

“Then you should get us a couch,” Flint suggested as he let his eyes take in Silver’s form, limbs loose and lax on the floor, his palm turned upwards in a soft and unconscious invitation.  “For those moments when I’m tired of painting and would like to relax with you,” he added.

“Oh, so the floor and the wall are no longer good enough for you, old man?” Silver laughed and rolled over to the side, propping his head up with his arm.  “How quickly they get used to lavish comforts,” he teased.

Flint found himself staring, disappointingly at a loss for a clever come back.  Sometimes his lover had that effect on him, he rendered him suddenly speechless.  Silver licked his own lips, while his eyes slowly traveled behind Flint and landed on the canvas.

“What have you painted?” Silver asked, squinting from the floor.

“Well,” Flint mumbled, suddenly shy, “new locale, new subject matter…”

“Let me see,” Silver said, rising from the floor like some modern version of Aphrodite rising from the sea.  Flint could picture it all very clearly now, the way seafoam would hiss and drip from Silver’s perfectly smooth skin while the winds ruffled his hair. He almost forgot to block his path, Silver was moving towards him with such determination.

“It’s not finished,” he said, placing his hand gently against Silver’s threadbare, loose t-shirt.  His fingers left a brown print on it and Flint swore.  “Fuck… sorry.”

“It’s just a shirt,” Silver said, dismissing Flint with a soft kiss on his unshaven cheek.

Helpless to stand in his way, Flint moved to the side, allowing Silver to have full view of his latest work.  Before Silver lay an ocean of waves, but it was unlike any ocean he’d seen before.  It was dark, overrun with shades of mahogany and ebony, and textured in cascades and vortices, it spilled over pale rocks and hung suspended in ringlets, like no droplets of water would ever do.  In the middle of the dark ocean was an unfinished figure of a tiny white ship, its sail tossed upon the waves.

Silver took a few steps back from the canvas, to get a different perspective.  “Is this…  hair?” Somehow in the curve of the pale rocks beneath the deep, dark sea, Silver had recognized the bend of his own arm.  The chestnut ringlets dangled over the precipice of his elbow.  “My hair?”

Flint swallowed.  “Yeah?”

“And the ship is in there because… it’s full of secrets?” Silver asked as his lips spread in a wide crescent, his smile reach all the way up to his eyes, crinkling the corners.

“Just…” Flint muttered, unable to meet his twinkling gaze. “One step at a time, okay? I can’t just… not put a ship in there.”

Silver’s hands were around Flint’s waist and his nose was already nuzzling against the curve of Flint’s jaw.  “You can put as many ships as you want in there,” Silver breathed out against his lips.

“Don’t tease me. We artists are very sensitive creatures.”

“You can put ships all over me.”  His hand fisted in Flint’s hair as his mouth, so warm and soft, pressed insistently against Flint’s lips.  Flint gasped, inhaling Silver’s probing tongue along with the sudden intake of air.  His eyes fell closed and his hips jutted forward, melding against Silver’s body which pressed into him with urgent insistence.  Their lips moved like the waves, a soft and steady ebb and flow of the kiss rocking Flint into a heavy and pleasant stupor, the bite of Silver’s teeth an answering sign of equalled passion when Flint’s fingers bit into the perfect globes of his ass.  Silver’s mouth was a cradle, his kiss was a lullaby.  

Flint couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes as Silver finally let him go.  His lips hummed like the beating of dragonfly wings and he brought his fingers to his mouth, chasing the warmth that was there a moment ago.

“Now you have paint on your face,” Silver whispered into his ear and Flint finally blinked his eyes open.

“So, you like it then?” Flint asked, fully aware of the blush that had crept up his neck as he spoke.

Silver leaned into Flint’s body, bringing all that heat and welcome weight back, his head tucked into the curve of Flint’s neck, curls tickling his skin.  “Like it?  I love it.  You know I love it.”

Flint turned his head to place a kiss into the middle of that sea of dark waves.  “I love it too,” he said, with just enough smugness to sell it.

[illyriantremors]

Beneath the Stars Chapter 18

Chapter: I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII

AO3 Linkage

Summary: Feyre and Rhys confront Tamlin's secret and admit the depth of their feelings for each other. Smut ensues. NSFW.

Chapter 18

“I - wait, what?”

“Sit in the chair.”

“Feyre?”

I grabbed my chair and dragged it closer in front of the canvas facing the opposite direction and pointed again. “Sit. I need to paint you.” Rhys stared at me like I’d gone mad. “Please, Rhys.”

That did it. Whether it was the near-violent please or the desperate way I said his name, that did it. He sat.

I dug through my supply bag looking for the paints I needed and paused when my hand touched on something small and plastic. I pulled out the flash drive Rhys had slipped in my locker “for inspiration” the note had said.

“I forgot about this,” I said. Rhys didn’t say anything. Only stared as I walked over to the workroom computer and loaded the music. A beautiful symphony came through the speakers overhead. It was somber and quiet - fitting for just such an occasion.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, walking back to Rhys while the music played on and built towards something more.

Rhys never broke eye contact with me once as he found my hand, pulled it to his mouth, and kissed me just above where his sister’s ring sat on my finger. “With all my heart.”

I wiped the tears staining my face away as best I could. He wanted to touch me. I could tell. But I dropped his hand and moved to my desk where the paints were and started mixing.

Black - that was obvious. But I’d need other colors too. Rhys wasn’t a bleak and dark storm clouding over the sky. He was the sky itself and that required colors - lots and lots of colors. When my palette was set, I undid the bow tie at his neck and loosened the first two buttons so that the top of his chest was exposed.

“Feyre, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Trying and failing epically to resist my good lucks and outstanding charm? I told you - if you wanted me naked, all you had-”

“To do was ask, yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Now sit still. I need to concentrate.”

Rhys watched me - not my hands as I lifted the brush to his skin, but my eyes. Watched the way I supposed they narrowed in on every pore, every drop of paint. A cold tickle met his cheek as my brush glossed over him. “Shit,” he said resisting a shudder. “That’s… that’s… kind of nice actually.”

“Such a baby sometimes,” I said and continued to apply the color, matting in the black around his jaw and hairline before adding in a dark, smokey purple the same shade as eggplant as it came in to reach the corners of his eyes. It matched perfectly. “Why didn’t you tell me about Tamlin and your sister?”

“Is that what he wanted to talk to you about?”

“Don’t deflect. This isn’t about him.”

Rhys closed his eyes as my brushed moved further down his face drawing little swirls and wisps from below his chin and jaw. His lip shook with every brush.

“I’m not mad,” I said when he wouldn’t say anything, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I dated someone who did terrible things to me, who was a crappy boyfriend while I had him, who said the worst things about you and right now I can’t think of one single instance where you returned that animosity - said anything bad about him to me even if I knew you felt it, especially now that I know you had ample reason to trash him, and I... I don’t know what to make of that.”

The tears returned fresh, this time quiet and thirsty to know.

I continued painting him all over his neck and the tops of his chest. I covered his ears so that they blended into the darkness of his hair, nearly disappearing. I stepped back to examine my handiwork and liked what I saw. His face was a study in blacks and greys, clouded with all the weight a heart could carry.

When he opened his eyes and that little pop of violet stood out, I saw the full picture of him against the stark white of the canvas behind his chair. And I knew how to make him look the way I remembered him in my mind every time I fell asleep at night. It had been the same image of him since the night we’d lain beneath the stars together.

I added fresh blues and violets and even a tiny dab of yellow to my palette and went to the canvas. Rhys fidgeted in his seat to get up, but I reached out to his shoulder and held him down firm.

“Sit. I need to paint. Just sit and talk - about anything.”

Rhys nodded and I withdrew looking at my canvas. I shirked off the cape of my gown so it wouldn’t get caught as I moved about. And then - I started painting.

It wasn’t long before Rhys spoke.

“This was her favorite symphony,” he said, his voice dull and lackluster, devoid all the usual bravado that made Rhys Rhys. I honed in on the music, following the haunting melody as it grew and stretched towards an insatiable climax that filled me with a quiet, subtle hope. I could see why Rhys had chosen it.

“She practiced it for hours and hours on the piano and I would yell at her from my room to shut up because I was tired and trying to sleep. Then when she died, I couldn’t stop listening to it. I tracked down every version of it I could find until I had them all. When Mor moved in, she took all my headphones away. Said it was too horrible to watch.”

A light layer of black, sponged on to give a translucency to the canvas that swept out in a great arch. Dark - but not lost.

“Tamlin and I were friends growing up. Nothing like Cassian or Azriel. But good enough. We ran in the same schools and our families knew each other. I shouldn’t have been so surprised when my sister took an interest. I was more surprised when he returned it.”

Veins of gold, small slivers cracking through the clouds here and there. Just enough promise of hope, the kind you feel when new love strikes.

“Was he good to her?” I asked quietly. A sick question, but I needed to know.

“He was. They didn’t date long given, given… what happened. But he was kind once, much kinder than he is now. Sometimes, I wish he hadn’t changed so much, but then I look at myself and how the accident broke me in two and I wonder if I wouldn’t have become the same thing in his shoes.”

I flinched at the horror behind that admittance, at the grief it had to cost him.

“He asked about you. About talking. He’s sorry for what happened and I think that he means it, but I… would be lying if I said he’s not broken anymore.”

Rhys didn’t reply. I chanced a glance at him and found him sitting with his head in one hand, elbow propped up on his knee in sorrow. A dark, fallen prince.

Layers of blue and purple covered the smoke the way the universe filled with galaxies. So much negative space on the surface, distance between wounds and friends and stories, but when you look closely enough, you can see the soul of a person peeking through, see their colors, see their pain. See right through to their very heart.

I smudged that color of Rhysand everywhere that my fingers could manage. Drops fell onto my dress, but I didn’t care. Nesta could yell at me later. By the time my palate was dry, my arms were covered up to my elbows, the sleeves rolled back, like a tattoo made to mark the occasion.

Standing back, a pair of great wings peered out at me through the thick of night I’d painted for Rhys. And when I stepped back even further to move Rhys into the frame, sagging into his hands and knees and all, it was even more magnificent to behold. Triumphant and broken at the same time.

Rhys looked up and I narrowed in on that spec of violet in his eyes, holding onto it like a star sent from Heaven itself to look after me. If I were honest with myself, I’d been staring at those eyes since the moment I’d first met him.

“Stay still,” I whispered. I wiped my hands clean and got a camera out, one of the really nice ones the studio loaned us while we worked, and careful not to get any paint on the lense, I took several pictures of Rhys. The entirety of the backdrop in focus, how the wings changed from different angles not all of them natural, closeups of his face - especially that face.

“You still never answered my question,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me about Tamlin and your sister? I know you trust me. I don’t doubt that. Knowing wouldn’t have changed anything between you and I, only him. So why didn’t you say anything?”

I watched Rhys’s chest swell beneath his tux and hold for a long, lingering moment before it collapsed again. Somewhere between his first words and his last, I set the camera aside and moved closer to him taking a towel along with me. Close enough to touch him again.

“I didn’t say anything because you’d just broken up with Tamlin,” he said, his voice raw. “And I’m not the sort of guy to just jump all over a woman right after a breakup as if she were nothing more than a relationship status for me to occupy. You’re more than that. And,” he stood up, stepping closer. “You loved him. Even though I felt like there was something between us and I couldn’t stop myself from being near you, from wanting you for every second you would spare for me, I wasn’t going to make an ass out of myself by assuming that love you’d had meant so little to you that you’d suddenly want to be with me, especially when I’d given you no reason to.”

“But you did,” I said, my voice grown thick and I grabbed his wrist on instinct, needing the contact. “You gave me ample reason to want you.”

I reached up, dragged my fingers across the paint and indulged in the feel of it smearing through his hair one last time before I began to clean him up with the rag. The touch almost seemed to pain him.

“How are you so wonderful right now? Feyre…”

A tear fell past his guard streaking the paint on his cheek so that it muddied and greyed.

“Do you remember when I told you there was a hole inside of me and I didn’t think I could see the way out of it anymore?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I was wrong. I thought I couldn’t see a way out, but the truth is that I was so miserable and so twisted inside of myself that I went straight to the way out without even realizing what it was.”

Rhys’s brow creased at me in silent question, begging for my explanation that I was heartbroken to think he couldn’t already see.

“You,” I breathed and I smiled as soon as I said it because I was holding the answer in my hands, and oh how he was beautiful and flawed and unendingly necessary to my life now.

“When Tamlin broke up with me and goodness, Nesta had just rung me out to dry, I broke.” It was an effort to say it aloud, but I pushed out every word through the tears blinding me. “I wanted to give everything up and I had no idea where to turn. I was at the bottom of the hole and all I thought I saw was darkness, but I was wrong. I felt more alone than I ever had, but then I was driving myself to your house - to you. You were the one good thing I could think of that hadn’t turned away on me, the only good feeling left in my heart and I clung to it like glue, followed it until I was on your doorstep and you were holding me.

“Rhys - you were my way out. You were my light in the dark. That’s why I love you. You showed me how to live again.” I grabbed both sides of his face firmly, most of it not clear of paint save for the bits around his hairline and the tops of his chest, and held him to me. “Please don’t ever think that you gave me no reason to love you. You gave me a million. And even if I can’t -”

I never got to finish my statement. Rhys’s lips came crashing down on mine no longer able to resist the temptation. And he tasted - oh how he tasted. Like citrus and sea and life all at once.

His lips were soft, moist as they tenderly felt my own, working in a slow haze that burned with a heat we’d both been holding off on for too long. And that heat quickly grew as my tongue cut through my lips and begged him to open for me. I was met with a groan as his lips parted and our arms collided to wrap around each other, to taste and feel and explore everything we could find as he dragged me down onto his lap.

Though our faces remained clean, I could feel the paint transferring between us as I dragged my fingers through his hair, rubbed my stained dress against his chest and jacket. But I didn’t care, couldn’t care. I wanted all of his touches - dirtied and blemished and perfect as they were.

Those touches swept across my neck and into where Nesta had placed the delicate pins keeping the deep blond strands of my hair in place. He pulled them out one by one, chucking them onto the floor when he was finished with them and my hair fell down in waves for his fingers to swim through.

I snapped when his lips left to travel down my jaw and back, back, back to my ear when he nibbled gently on me. I snatched at his waist trying frantically to yank his shirt free and moaned my victory when my hands succeeded, finding the smooth hard expanse of his abs that I further stained with the blues and purples and golds of my earlier handiwork.

“Feyre,” he said into me - my ear, my skin, my entire person.

“Take me home,” I replied automatically. The kisses along my neck stopped so Rhys could look at me seriously.

“Are you sure?”

My reply was to kiss him enthusiastically without question, without restraint. Rhys laughed and scooped me up into his arms marching for the door. “As milady requests.”

Home - I was going home.

We didn’t tell anyone we were leaving. We simply left, no backwards glances. The dance was winding down as it was, handfuls of students trickling through the galleries towards the doors lingering here and there at paintings that caught their eye.

My heart fluttered when I spotted Cassian’s car in the parking lot and realized we had no way home. And then a jingle met my ears.

Rhys held up his keys. “You’re not seriously suggesting we strand them here?” I asked.

“Mor and I had to come by early to go over last minute set-up with the owners. Cass picked us up when we were done so we could all drive together, which means…”

The headlights of his car flashed as Rhys hit the unlock button on his key set. I grinned wildly and ran.

We sped along towards home and I couldn’t stop touching him. Everywhere my fingers trailed along his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, or where my lips kissed at his ear forcing him to grip the steering wheel harder so he could concentrate - I wanted more, more, more. I was desperate just to feel him.

And it made me realize just how horrible devoid of this kind of intimacy I’d been, not just with Tamlin, but with… anyone. My life had been empty for long time, maybe even before mom had left. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this free, this wild, this much myself - if I’d ever felt like this at all.

“Is your dad home?” I said between kisses. I could feel the muscles in his neck flexing with every touch, trying to keep control.

“He’s… he’s… shit, Feyre - what happened to wanting me to keep my eyes on the road when I drive?.” But the smile that broke over his face said he wanted anything but for me to stop. “He’s out of town on business this weekend. We’ll have the house to ourselves - save for Mor.”

“Mmm,” I purred against his skin. “She sleeps upstairs. That’s okay. I have a feeling she’ll be a while anyway.” My hand ran once up his crotch enjoying the hardness I found there beneath his pants. I licked up the side of Rhys’s neck in response.

“That’s it,” Rhys snapped. The car came to a rough stop in front of his house. He cut the engine and grabbed me. Pounced, was really more like it. He undid both our seat belts and then his body came over me pressing me into the leather seats as he kissed me hungrily, tore his hands my chest to get to the zipper of my dress.

Steam started fogging up the windows in a white sheen we couldn’t see through. It was cold out tonight. Before I wound up with my very own Titanic moment, I pulled Rhys back and urged him, “Inside. Now.”

His lip quivered in amusement. “You do realize what you just -”

“NOW.”

He carried me down the steps to his room - the basement. His room was simpler than I expected, but I would inspect that later. Right now, clothes took precedence over furniture.

“Feyre, Feyre, Feyre,” he murmured at my lips. I grabbed his shirt and pulled and pulled until the buttons had all popped free one by one and I was able to see that glorious chest of his. He was bare save for an intoxicating strip of dark hair on his abdomen that disappeared below his waistline.

“Wait here,” he murmured and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom of his room. I heard the sound of water running and when Rhys came back, his hair was sopping wet, water running down from it over his neck and chest all of which was now completely clean of my paint.

He brought a damp towel with him and gingerly took each of my hands, taking time to clean my skin so that I was in the clear as well. The urgency I’d felt before leaked out of me as Rhys took care of me. I could have stood there forever letting him knead the muscles, taking all of that horrible tension I couldn’t stop carrying out of me.

When he was done, I watched the towel fly back towards its home in the bathroom. And then those violet eyes were on me again.

“Age before beauty,” I teased, beginning to shrug the jacket and then the shirt off him. Rhys grabbed the fabric as I went and tossed it hard to the floor, eyeing me ravenously the entire time.

“If you insist,” he said. He took a step back from me and the shock from losing his touch was enough to make me realize what he was doing - what we were on the brink of doing.

And then... I was left with Rhys standing before me in nothing but his boxers, a beautiful shade of crimson red, with a considerable bulge tenting them in the front.

His body was magnificent, carved out of earth and rock and darkness. His muscles flexed, worked against me as he pulled me into him, his arms wrapping around me until he found that zipper on the back of my dress again and had pulled it down, down, down. I pulled out of my sleeves and the dress fell like a river along my body towards the floor where it pooled into a lake at my feet.

A sharp sensation forced a cry out of me as Rhys’s teeth nipped at my shoulder and I realized his was dragging my bra straps down with them. The heat between our stomachs where we connected sent my body spiraling and I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed all of him, for not a single part of us to no longer be connected for not one second more.

I undid the clasp on my bra and sent it flying heaven knew where. My underwear followed and just as Rhys’s lips parted to say something suggestive, I yanked his boxers down, taking his cock as I did and pushing us back onto the bed where I straddled him.

Rhys cursed as he toppled down and I stroked him. My body rocked over him slightly in time with my motions and Rhys’s eyes trailed over me - the curve of my hips over his own, the fullness of my breasts, the way my neck grew thick with sweat just from watching him writhe on the bed…

My hand gripped him hard, rising slowly up to the head of him where my thumb ran slowly over the tip. I saw Rhys’s back arch off the bed ever so slightly before he shot up. His hands dug into my hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling me towards him fervently, but not so much that it hurt. I moaned into his mouth and that had him flipping me onto my back.

Our bodies pressed flush against one another, heat radiating in all the little pockets where we molded together. The tightness between my legs was becoming unbearable. Rhys felt it as he smuggled between us to dip his finger between me and found a considerable wetness waiting.

“Do it,” I said thinking only of relieving the unbearable heat in my core. “Rhys…” My voice was barely more than a pitiful moan.

He opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a small square package which he ripped open with his teeth, taking care not to damage the condom inside. He sat back on the bed and watched me as I watched him, rolling that condom down his cock slowly, one agonizing inch at a time…

“Feyre,” he said lying back down with me. He took my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist as he positioned himself at my entrance. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, please,” I said greedily, pulling against his chest to nudge his hips further up. He grinned wickedly and then he was sliding inside me with intolerable gentleness. And the thick, immense feel of him that greeted the heat in my core sent me past the boiling point. My lips parted in a silent gasp as my fingernails dug in carefully at his back. Rhys mimed a sharp, silent whistle of approval.

He brought one of my legs up at his side, bent at the knee, and held it there against his hip as he made the first thrust. My toes curled with each new movement and we began singing that song between us, the one as old as the stars.

An electric feel pulsed inside me each time our hips collided. He held me with delicate tenderness, that I felt myself drowning in it as he kissed me, as he touched me, and as I touched him everywhere my fingers could go. My free leg wrapped around his lower back to bring him in closer and it sent Rhys’s pace on me into a fast rhythm I could have lived and died to.

“Rhys,” I said as the burning in me built to a crescendo. He saw me on the edge and pressed his hand into my lower back to help my hips up. The slight shift in angles made me clench around him and the primal, guttural noise that ached out of him sent me spiraling.

I came on him and there wasn’t a cry left in me to communicate how exquisite he made me feel. My voice simply cracked, a sharp needle of sound splitting the night in two while Rhys worked into my climax.

“I love you,” I said, gripping him fiercely. His body constricted, clinging to me everywhere, and all I could hear him manage to get out as he came inside me was the fractured, “I love… I love… I love…” of a ruined, ravished man.

His head collapsed onto my chest when we decided at last we were finished. We let our bodies lay there for some time in a shaking, quivering mess before tucking ourselves underneath the sheets.

“I see what you mean,” I said as I snuggled into him.

“About what?”

“If I had known this what you meant would happen if you’d started kissing me - when you said you’d never stop? I’d have kissed you all the way back at Lucien’s party.”

The deep roar of laughter in Rhys’s chest as my head lay over him was music to my ears.

xx