#Best Reference Book for 2024

[sagarrachnagrp]

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[chiropteracupola]

I hope you remember / To treat the gelignite tender-ly, for me / I'm having dreams about things not going right / Let's leave in plenty of time tonight...

[biggles and von stalhein, requested by anonymous... total mystery who that anonymous requester could have been!]

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind

[captainsophiestark]

Oblivious

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024! Requested by @elenavampire21 - hope you like it! Thanks for being patient while I got it done!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day Thirty-One Prompt: "It's always been you."

Summary: You've always felt like the lowest priority out of everyone in the Mystic Falls group, but Damon disagrees.

Word Count: 1,905

Category: Fluff, light Angst

A/N: That's a wrap on Fictober baby! Woohoo! And Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I hummed to myself as I scanned my bookshelf, trying to decide which one to grab. Since moving into college at Whitmore, I'd mostly just brought my favorites, since I didn't have much book space to spare in my single dorm room. But bringing all of my favorites made it a little hard to decide what to read on any given day.

I'd just about made up my mind, actually reaching out to grab one when the door to my room went flying open, smashing into the opposite wall.

I whirled around, my fight or flight response kicking into overdrive as I tried to remember where the nearest stake was in my room. I'd been dragged into the supernatrual drama just by being tangental to a certain friend group in Mystic Falls, which meant I was on high alert for supernatural threats. This weekend in particular, everyone I knew was back in Mystic Falls for a visit and a party.

At least, they were supposed to be. As I whipped around towards the door, I came face to face with none other than Damon Salvatore.

My heart started a very annoying gymnastics routine. I'd had a crush on Damon for a long time, despite knowing all his supernatural secrets, but with Elena around he'd never bothered to give me the time of day. I'd made my peace with it, more or less, but suddenly finding him standing in the doorway of my room, his piercing blue eyes fixed absolutely on me, still sent my heart racing.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I demanded, fixing Damon with the fiercest glare I could muster. Probably not very fierce at the moment, but I did my best.

"You should really keep this locked," Damon drawled instead of answering me. I scowled as he closed the door behind him, then took a few steps closer to me.

"We're in a crowded student dorm hall. It's normally not a problem."

"Well, it's a problem now."

Damon grinned at me, making a point of flashing his fangs. My scowl deepened.

"Do you not have to be invited in to student housing?" I asked, trying to deflect and distract Damon from paying any attention to my heartbeat. His grin only widened.

"Nope. I've used that to my advantage many times."

I tried to keep a grimace off my face at that. I knew enough about Damon and his history to realize he was refering to past hookups as much as anything else. Not my favorite subject to get into with him.

I cleared my throat, trying to push the thoughts out of my mind. I met Damon's gaze again and raised an eyebrow, going for casual and just hoping I could kind of pull it off.

"Why are you here?" I said. "Aren't you supposed to be hosting a party in Mystic Falls?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at that party with me?" Damon asked, voice low as he took another few steps towards me. I let out a little huff and looked away.

"Believe it or not, I'm not in the mood to go running back home every weekend that I'm at college. I have work to do and people I want to spend time with this weekend, both of which require me to stay here."

Damon stepped even closer to me, getting in my space and moving to try to see my expression. When I continued to look away from him, he took my chin in his hand and turned me to face him. I scowled, but didn't pull away.

"I don't believe you."

"What do you mean 'you don't believe me'?"

"I mean, when you explained your reasoning to me just now, your heartbeat told me you were lying." I frowned, but Damon just leaned in a little closer, his grip still tight on my chin. "So why aren't you in Mystic Falls?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes, finally pulling back and out of his grip. He let me go, but took a few steps to follow me across the room as I walked away.

"I'm just sick of all the supernatural drama," I said. "It's been nice to be here, building something separate from which vampire we're trying to kill this week, or which werewolf is trying to kill us. I'm happy here, and I don't want to blow all that up by going home and finding myself in the middle of the supernatural drama again."

Damon hummed. Nothing I'd said was a lie, technically, so he couldn't call me out like he had earlier. I kept my back to him so he couldn't read it in my face either.

"I guess that's the truth," Damon said, his voice way too casual. "But I know you well enough to know it's not the whole truth."

I snorted, then whipped around to face Damon with a scowl.

"Why do you care? I gave you an explanation, and it's the truth, so it's all you're getting."

Damon shook his head as he stepped even closer to me.

"Not gonna work for me, sweetheart. I'm not leaving here without the whole truth."

"Why? Damon, seriously, why is this so important to you?"

"Because. Now are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to compel it out of you?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at me, but I just rolled my eyes.

"We both know I'm on vervain, so knock it off. Just go back to Mystic Falls. Flirt with Elena to mess with your brother, whatever! Just leave me alone!"

"I don't want to flirt with Elena," Damon said, taking another step towards me. His voice was low, and more serious than I usually heard it, as his eyes locked onto mine. "I want to flirt with you, no one else. It's always been you."

Everything about Damon's tone and body language told me he was serious, but I knew what a good actor he could be when he wanted to. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders to face Damon.

"Oh please. It's always been Elena, from day one with you! And the handful of times it hasn't been Elena? It's been just about anybody else in our group besides me. Caroline, that reporter Andie, the vampire Rose who kidnapped Elena... hell, even Rebekah Mikaelson! But never once me, Day."

Damon's frown had deepend, and he actually looked a little wounded. He took another step closer, almost putting us chest to chest, and opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but I put up a hand to stop him before he could get a word out.

"It's fine, Damon. Seriously, it's not a crime for you to not reciprocate my feelings. And I'm not avoiding Mystic Falls all because of some one-sided crush. But, seriously. Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena were supposed to be in a triple together. Nobody even checked with me, if I might want to join them in a dorm, since we were all going to Whitmore. I know I got sucked into the group by accident and not really by friendship, but for fuck's sake, I've thrown myself headfirst into this world and trying to help you guys, and still, it's like I'm barely even present. So I decided to say screw it, and I've made a bunch of great friends here outside of all this vampire shit, and I'm happy with that. So just go back to your party and leave me alone. I'd say pass the message on, but I doubt if anybody else'll notice."

Damon's frown had been steadily deepening the whole time I'd been speaking, and now he looked truly upset. I'd confessed a little more to him in the heat of the moment than I'd been planning to, but my words were still true. Maybe it was time for a full break from the rest of the Mystic Falls gang, and maybe this was how I got it done.

"Are you... absolutely blind?" Damon demanded, reaching out to take my hands before I could stop him. "I'll admit, when I first met Elena, she looked so much like Katherine that I was a little hung up on her. But I got over her when I got over Katherine. All I've been doing since a few weeks after I met you is trying to flirt with you! You've always shut me down!"

"What? Damon, you're crazy-"

"I abandoned Ric at the bar to buy you a drink and play pool. I blew off Stefan to go to some stupid Mystic Falls festival with you. For god's sake, I even asked you on a date after your graduation!"

"No no no, that was playful flirting. And the date thing was to make Elena jealous!"

"The date thing was not to make Elena jealous!"

I laughed, mostly out of panic, shaking my head and stepping back from Damon. He didn't let me get far. He followed me across the room until my back hit the wall, and then stepped into my space again. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and I knew he could hear just how fast my heart was beating.

"Damon, come on. You're... you. If you'd had a thing for me for over a year, there's no way I wouldn't know about it!"

"That's what I kept telling myself," he muttered. The faintest possible smile made its way onto his face. "I'm actually a little relieved it turns out you're just oblivious."

I snorted, but my heart had picked up speed again, which honestly shouldn't have been possible. If Damon were lying... well, it didn't make sense for Damon to be lying. There was no reason for him to come all the way down here, especially while everyone else in our group was throwing a party at his house, all for a lie with no real motivation.

I searched Damon's face, this time without a scowl. He smirked back at me and let his gaze slowly, clearly wander down to my mouth. I laughed.

"You're serious, aren't you? You're telling the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth," he said. His voice was more sincere and serious than it had been since he'd walked into my room as the smirk on his face became more of a smile. Slowly, he let one hand wander down to rest on my waist. I bit my lip, considering for just a second, then surged forward and kissed him.

Damon wasted no time pushing me against the wall and kissing me back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting myself get lost in the moment.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to Mystic Falls?" I breathed between kisses as Damon moved along my neck and jaw. "You're missing a party in your own house."

"I'm sure. I hid all my good booze before I left. And I hate to rub it in, but..." Damon pulled back just enough to look me in the eye and let a predatory grin spread across his face. "I'm pretty happy you ended up in a single dorm room right now."

I laughed, something I honestly never thought I'd be able to do about the way I'd ended up in this single dorm room. Leave it to Damon to find a way to make it happen, despite the odds.

It'd taken a lot more drama and heartache than it should've to get here. Still, as Damon wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight to his chest, I got the distinct impression that it would be worth it.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[moiraimyths]

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) | Official Trailer

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a lore-rich and choice-driven historical fantasy visual novel inspired by Irish mythology and Celtic folklore. Play as a tenant farmer from mid-19th century Ireland, whose path becomes inexplicably entwined in fairy affairs after getting robbed by the roadside and lured into the mythic and war-torn world of Tír na nÓg: A once unified land, now divided into the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. Will you escape and return home with your stolen belongings? Or does fate have something else in mind?

🍃 STEAM 🍂 ITCH.IO 🍃PATREON 🍂DISCORD 🍃

Eager to play? Certain route content is available NOW in early access on Steam and Itch.io! For more information, click below👇

Meet the Cast

Facts & Questions: The Game

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a Kickstarter-funded project currently in development. Due to the scope of the story, we will be releasing it serially over several years to Steam and Itch.io, and discounting it while in early access. The earlier it's bought, the cheaper it will be overall, and you'll only need to buy the game once!

🍂 Not all routes are currently available! As of Nov. 1, 2024, you can play half of Shae and Maeve's routes; both approximately 50k words. If you're not sure about paying for an unfinished game, feel free to check out our free demo first. It consists of Vol. 1, Book of the Traveller (the pre-route content). Differences between the demo's Vol. 1 and the paid game's Vol. 1 are marginal following our August 1, 2024 re-release of the demo.

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) has a recommended reading order (Vol. 1, then 2, then 3, etc.), which will correspond to the release order of the routes. For more information on our reasoning behind this, click here.

🍂 Due to its setting, The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) will occasionally feature instances of characters speaking in Gaeilge, i.e. the Irish language. All instances of Gaeilge are linked to an internal translation tool, which is voiced by Nigel McKeon, a Gaeilgeoir.

🍃 The main character is yours to shape. At minimum, you must choose a nickname, pronouns, and one of four default appearances, the last of which can be your own artwork (instructions are included in the game's files). You may also choose to discard the True Name…

🍂 All routes, both current and upcoming, will have both romantic and platonic choice options. If you're uninterested in romance, feel free to make friends instead! No matter the nature of your relationship, you will still be able to reach the good end. (Want to learn more? Refer to this post!)

🍃 Our cast consists of two men, two women, and two non-binary characters. All are romancable no matter the MC, but some characters are asexual or on the aromantic spectrum, which may impact aspects of their romances.

🍂 If you are a Mac user and are having issues launching the game via the Itch direct download, refer to this guide for troubleshooting before sending us an ask. We strongly recommend purchasing the game through Steam instead of Itch if you are a Mac user; it is the best way to avoid issues with launching the game.

🍃 NDM is very intentionally set just prior to the onset of the Great Famine, which is both thematically and textually relevant to the leftist, anti-imperialist story we're aiming to tell. If you would like more insight into this, refer to this post.

🐎 There are secrets to be found in this game, with more yet to come. Prepare yourself for a lot of horse related shenanigans. 🐎

Facts & Questions: The Company

🧵 Moirai Myths is a five-person company based out of Canada. The core devs/founders go by Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. All writing and programming are done by this collective, i.e. the Fates.

🪡 Moirai Myths has a two person in-house artist team consisting of Kazane, our Character/UI Designer, and Melinoe, our Environmental Designer. In addition to them, though, we have had a number of guest artists assist us with the creation of sprites, CGs, and an assortment of other materials. If you'd like to meet them, check out our about page on our website!

✂️ Moirai Myths stands with the people of Palestine 🇵🇸

Disclaimer: This description will be updated periodically. If you're reading this in a reblog, you may want to check our current pinned post for potential changes.

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm trying to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over his shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[fanboundbooks]

Silver and Copper By @heronfem

This is my 2024 Renegade Bindery Exchange story and I just recently was able to get the author's copy to them! So now I get to post!

This is a Witcher fic so I wanted to really lean into the sort of Medieval vibes of it. And it just so happened that my local book arts center was teaching a class on Medieval bookbinding this past fall. So, I took it, and incorporated some of the techniques into this binding. This book is sewn on duel sets of cord which are then pulled through holes in the boards to attach the text block to the boards.

The cover design was inspired by Jaskier's journal in the story; it was said to have a blue cover, look roughly hand made, and had some fun design elements for its cover art. So I did my best to make Jaskier proud. Ever since I started making books I have wanted to do something to pay homage to old medieval illuminated books. And while I didn't have the time to go full monk on this I did spend many many hours doing my best to draw a number of illustrations in what I hope is a fitting style to add to the book.

I incorporated a number of flowers into many of the images. Folks familiar with the source material will likely already know of Jaskier also being referred to as Dandelion (so of course they make a big appearance in the type set), but the author for this story also gave him siblings and they all got associated flowers as well. So, as the story progresses and you find out about them I started incorporating their flowers into the designs as well.

I tried to find what I hope is the least offensive of an old style of font for the main body text. I found it legible so I hope that is true for everyone else. Many thanks to my exchangee for introducing me to this story!🌾🐺

[riamaple]

Life on Your Line (Ch. 11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Cursed to sacrifice your life to save another, you were never able to connect with others, always meant to drift before you could belong. Death was all you knew. Then, one day in Brooklyn, you saved a young man, and for some reason, you kept seeing him again. And again. And again. No matter where you went, across decades, you always found your way back to him.

He was forced to live to destroy, you were forced to die to save—bound together in ways neither of you could understand.

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending). Death and Dying. Self-Sacrifice (Immortality / Resurrection). Canon-Typical Violence / Description of Wounds. Suicidal Thoughts. Implications and References to Child Death, Suicide, Self-Destructive Behavior / Self-Harm.

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Word Count: 1.3k (Shorter than usual but it's because it's Part 1 Epilogue and I'm posting this back-to-back with Ch. 10!)

CHAPTER 11: August 27, 2024

“Hey, Avery?”

You looked up at Mandy, blinking at her smile while the edges of your lips twitched upward in response. “Yeah?”

She giggled before placing a white paper bag onto the countertop. “I brought you your favorite.”

You lightly smiled, taking the bag. “What’s the occasion?”

She chortled, shrugging as she walked past you. “What? I can’t get you an eclair now and then?”

You gave a small, quiet laugh. It was a little strained, but Mandy’s energy was enough to make you try. “No, I’m not saying you can’t.”

“Good!” She winked before chucking her bag into the back room, which always made you roll your eyes. “You can’t go wrong with getting a sweet treat while working!”

You hummed before crossing your arms, your small smile still present. “Yeah? And tell me—why are you here today? I said you didn’t have to come in.”

Mandy shrugged again. “I don’t know. I was bored.”

“Aren’t you writing a novel?”

She shrugged again.

You shook your head before reaching for one of the stacks of books beside you. “Well, if you’re really that bored, you can help me put these back where they belong.”

Mandy scoffed. “I swear,” she began while grabbing a stack, “why the hell is it so hard for people to put books in the right spot?”

“Incompetence?”

“Stupidity,” she concluded with a dramatic sigh. 

You chuckled again as you walked around your store, your body moving on autopilot. Finding every book’s home was an easy task for you, and your movements were slow as you reached their rightful place. Your fingers traced the spine of each book before sliding them back onto the shelf.

Behind you, Mandy was watching you from the corner of her eye. You had noticed that she’d been more present in the past few weeks, but not necessarily that she had been watching you carefully. She was always perceptive, but she was keeping an eye on you in ways even you hadn’t realized.

Maybe being shaken had somehow made Mandy nervous too.

Over a month ago, you were reading a novel on your couch, the television playing softly in the background while Brooklyn murmured outside of your window. It was supposed to be a calming night, but then the news started to report on an attack at the GRC voting by the Flag Smashers.

By the way, you thought that was a stupid fucking name.

When you raised the volume, you saw him on the screen.

James Bucky Barnes.

You tried your best not to fall apart, but nothing was ever in your control. Crumbled to the floor, you watched his face shine underneath the streetlights as he walked to the building. He glanced at the camera, his frost-blue eyes dimmed by the night and the weight of the incoming battle, but there was still the same sharpness and softness within them that made you feel afloat. His hair was cut shorter, and his metal arm was no longer silver, but black and gold like the beautiful art of kintsugi.

That was what he was. Beautiful.

God, he was so beautiful.

The footage had cut to different moments of the night. Civilians rushing around, James speeding by on a motorcycle, and Sam Wilson, the new Captain America—which, thank fuck, because that John Walker guy was not it—soaring around and fighting a helicopter.

Whenever it cut back to James, you were on your feet, hands to your chest as you tried to keep your breathing calm. You’d seen him fight before—the way he moved so precisely and gracefully through the violent nature of his punches. But seeing that the last time you watched him fight led to a knife wound in his stomach, you couldn’t help but feel terrified.

Then you felt proud.

You felt so proud when the camera showed him breaking open a van full of hostages. The reporter called him a hero, but you already knew that. Your heart leaped to see James doing what he always did best—protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. 

At that moment, you felt so much relief—relief that he was surviving without you. There was a second where you wanted to run out and find him, throw yourself in front of him from any dangerous threat, but you didn’t. You stayed in your quiet apartment, watching James fight for others and himself.

You were happy.

Then your chest began to hurt.

Seeing James again after ten years tore you apart. He was alive again, but that didn’t revive you. You weren’t there when he needed you the most—you couldn’t do the one thing you were cursed to do. The world took him away from you and spat him out when you were at your weakest. Too weak to move. To feel. To love.

Well, actually. That last one was a lie.

You were never weak enough to love, but to act upon it? It exhausted you. It hurt you.

Seeing him hurt you because you knew you couldn’t let him back into your life.

You flinched at the sound of a book hitting the floor, and you looked down to see that you were the problem. Sighing, you bent over and scooped the novel off the floor before sliding it into its home. A dull ache seeped into your chest and you shut your eyes, focusing on your breathing as the world tried to spin you around.

“Avery?” Mandy called behind you. “Are you okay?”

You exhaled and walked back to the front desk with a forced smile. “All good,” you replied, grabbing another stack of books.

When you turned back around, Mandy continued to stare at you. She had also seen the news—watched James Barnes run around and save the city alongside Captain America. The entire night, she only thought about you and how you must’ve felt seeing the man you loved back in action.

She tried to ask you about it the next day, but you said you didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t lie and say you were fine—you definitely were not. For the past few weeks, you moved slower, sighed heavier, thought longer.

Loved harder, even when you didn’t want to.

Mandy didn’t push it any further, but you could feel the weight of her stare. So you kept your back turned to her—to the customers roaming around—to the front door that would open and close now and then.

Eventually, with three books left in your arms, you gazed at the top shelf. Rolling your eyes at people’s stupidity to put things back where they belong, you rolled the wooden ladder to the shelf you needed to get to and climbed up.

You reached up, sliding the book back into its place before carefully climbing down the ladder. But then, right as you were close to the bottom, you heard a snap and you felt your foot fall through one of the steps. With nothing underneath it, your foot swung forward while the rest of your body fell back. Your one hand lost its grip while the other let go of the books, and you yelped as you braced yourself to fall—

Into a pair of arms. 

You opened your eyes, blinking as you found yourself in someone’s grasp—very sturdy and comfortable, you noticed. With one foot still on the ladder, you were leaning back into this man’s chest, his arms underneath your armpits and wrapped around you. You could suddenly smell his cologne and hear his soft sigh, definitely out of relief that he happened to be right where he needed to be. Your cheeks flushed red as you slowly stepped off the ladder, and he helped you stand up.

“Damn.” You couldn’t help but sigh in embarrassment, turning around to face your savior. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize the ladder was ready to—”

Frost-blue eyes met your gaze, and you froze.

END OF PART 1: LIFE ON YOUR LINE

NEXT CHAPTER >

AN: We'll be back in 3 weeks with PART 2: BREATH IN YOUR MARGIN :) Thanks everyone!

General Taglist! @a-century-of-sass @clemicious @fallenxjas @paryl @frog-fans-unite @sebastians-love @buckvoidsyy @recorddust @nj01 @avengersgirllorianna @western-nightss @chonkybonky @weasleyswheezeys 

Thanks for reading :)

[girlbossagenda]

How to girlboss up in 2025 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

2024 is slowly but surely closing its doors to us, and 2025 is about to welcome us, you might have tried everything in your power to improve this year, but you might still feel far away from your goals or you simply have no sense of direction, through this post learn how you can upgrade yourself and get closer to becoming the best version of yourself this new year! And girlboss up your way to 2025!

୨୧ Review this past year ୨୧

Check your old new year resolutions, go trough your journal, watch how you progressed this year, one goal that you MUST have is learn from your mistakes and take accountability, this is the best way to build your self concept and confidence, owing to your mistakes without making it your fault.

୨୧ Vision board ୨୧

A classic, nothing beats a good vision board, sometimes you don't have specific goals in mind, having a visual reference can help you clar your mind, decide if you want a digital or physical vision board, check the next guides to see the different versions that you can create.

୨୧ Clean your socials ୨୧

Are you still following people that are not contributing in a positive way in your life, that influencer that posts only about her body? that Tiktok girl that became famous for just begin pretty? Do you still have pics of your ex, that friend that dragged you though hell or those school book pages? Time to clear up!

୨୧ Set your goals ୨୧

Now your mind is clearer, so how do you set new goals for this year? Write minimum 3 big goals that you want to accomplish, example: hit the gym, travel, get my money up, this will be the themes you'll be actively work in 2025, then make categories like: health, social, professional. Then make smaller general goals for the whole year for each of the categories, during the year each month you'll set monthly, weekly and daily goals, to keep track.

୨୧ Take action ୨୧

Your goals are nothing without you! One thing that I learned this year is that everything happens for a reason, if you end with a certain result, understand that you played a part in it, the rest just unfolded, so take things in your hands and direct your wishes towards the optimal ending.

Ciao bellissime!! Thank you for reading part 1 on how to glow up this 2025, I really hope this guide will help you archiving that mindset for 2025, it’s time to jump into this new journey, see you soon next year!!

xoxo

-𝓐

[dreamescapeswriting]

Vanishing Act ~ HHJ

⤜WORD COUNT: 1.7K

⤜GENRE: Established relationship, mafia romance, mafia boyfriend! NON IDOL, Arguing couple, fighting, making up, cry baby reader, angst with a fluffy ending

⤜PAIRING: Hyunjin!Mafia x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I lost the original screenshot! But I remembered cry baby reader so I hope this is okay! 

Hyunjin paced back and forth in the dimly lit office he'd spent most of the day in, his mind plagued with worry. You had vanished without a trace earlier in the day. You hadn't answered his calls or messages, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that gnawed at him. In their world, disappearing like that wasn't just unusual; it was dangerous. His anxiety only grew in his chest the more he thought about what could have happened to you.

"Did you find her?" He growled out at your personal guard who had managed to lose you this morning. He'd hired Mark because he was supposed to be the best of the best, an ex-military man who was also a private investigator and you'd managed to get out of his sights.

"No," Mark gulped, looking around at the office and back at Hyunjin who looked as though he was about ready to throw up at the thought of something happening to you. Being who he was in this world meant anyone close to him had a giant target on their back and you were the closest person to him in the whole world. 

As the hours stretched on, Hyunjin's anxiety mounted higher and higher as he thought about everything. He imagined all sorts of scenarios - rival gangs, undercover cops, or some personal vendetta targeting you. He couldn't afford to lose you. You were his anchor, his solace in the tumultuous world they inhabited, you were everything to him and the thought of losing you was tearing him up inside.

Finally, as the evening descended into darkness, Hyunjin made his way home ready to find someone else to try and find you but when he walked through the door he couldn't believe his eyes.

You were sitting calmly on the couch, engrossed in a book, and his anger flared. No one had been able to find you and you'd just been sat there all day?

"Where the hell have you been?" he barked, his voice echoing off the walls. You jumped, dropping your book onto your lap and staring up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion spread across your face.

"Hyunjin, I was just out for a walk. I needed some time alone." You breathed out, you assumed he was referring to you being gone most of the day. You just needed some time away from everything to relax and clear your mind. 

Something you used to do a lot before the two of you had moved in together, something you didn't think was that big a deal, especially since you'd stuck to the gardens of his mansion and just spent most of the days in there. The place he had once told you was the safest place in the country. 

"Alone?" Hyunjin's voice rose, his frustration bubbling over as he stared at you, how could you not be taking this as seriously as he was? Did you find this all funny? 

"You think you can just disappear like that? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Do you know many enemies we have out there that would love to get their hands on you!?" His voice bounced off the walls and you stood up, wanting to get away from his wrath since you knew he would go on a tangent for a while.

"Hyunjin-" He cut you off by shaking his head at you and scoffing loudly,

"Don't Hyunjin me! You know how worried I get when you disappear on me without a word!" He yelled, his anger finally getting the better of him as he lashed out at you, knowing deep down that it was wrong for him to do so. 

"What if someone had gotten to you? Huh? Kidnapped you?!" You stared down at the floor, feeling the tears starting to rush into your eyes as you did your best to stop it from happening. 

You were so insecure whenever it came to crying in front of anybody but especially someone that you were getting into an argument with. You hated that whenever someone was yelling at you your body's response was to cry, it was the same thing that happened whenever you were angry the tears would just stream down your cheeks. Hyunjin's anger surged as he saw tears rolling down your face, your shoulders trembling with silent sobs but instead of softening, his words only turned harsher, cutting through you like a knife.

"Stop crying!" He barks at you, his voice laced with venom and impatience.

"Is that all you know how to do? Acting like a damn crybaby whenever someone yells at you?!" You flinched at his words, your head shooting up and finding his eyes on you as you stared back at him. your tears flowing more freely now, your silent sobs turning into choked gasps as he turned your insecurity back on you. Something you'd never thought Hyunjin, of all people, would do to you.

You struggled to compose yourself, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands, but the tears refused to stop flowing. Hyunjin's heart clenched at the sight, a pang of guilt piercing through his anger and allowing him to see how much he had hurt you.

He knew just how insecure you were about it, how you saw it as a sign of weakness but his frustration had gotten the better of him and now he'd only added to your pain,

"Yn, I..." He began, his voice faltering as he reached out to you, but you recoiled, your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. 

"Don't," You whispered, your voice barely coming out, you couldn't believe that he would do this to you.

"Just...Don't," You choked out, walking away from him as he called for you to go back to him but you couldn't. Right now you didn't want to be near him or face him after what he had said to you. 

After an hour or so Hyunjin decided to venture up to your shared bedroom, his anger had completely vanished the second he realised how hurt you were but he'd wanted to give you some time alone before he came up to your room. Entering the room, he found you curled up on your bed, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 

The sight tore at his soul, a painful reminder that he had been the one to cause all of this. 

"yn," He whispered as he approached you cautiously, his footsteps hesitant as he sat down beside you.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," His voice was barely audible over the sound of your tears. You flinched at his words but you didn't push him away. Instead, you turned over to face him, your eyes red-rimmed and filled with sorrow.

"You always say that." You murmur, "But it doesn't change anything." Hyunjin felt a stab in his chest, he knew he messed up and he knew that mere apologies wouldn't be enough to mend the damage he had created. He reached out to you, his hand shaking as he wiped away tears from your cheek. 

"I know," He admitted, his voice heavy with regret, "But please, Yn, give me a chance to make it up to you. I'll do anything, I swear," He begged. He wasn't below begging you, he would do anything for you, take a bullet, run in front of a car, anything for you.

"What could you even do to make this up to me?" You mumbled, your voice tinged with scepticism and he moved to sit beside you on the bed, looking at you as he sighed softly. 

"I had a whole evening planned you know, I was going to take you out to dinner...wine and dine you," He smiled weakly as you stared at him,

"When you weren't here I freaked out, I got scared that something had happened to you and I let my anger get the better of me," He admits as he looks down at your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing softly. 

"You disappeared all day without a word...I was worried." He admits to you, not trying to get into another argument but just wanting you to understand his side of all of this.

"The thought of anything happening to you kills me inside." He whispered and you stared at him,

"I wasn't in any danger, I was in the gardens most of the day...I just took some time alone," Your voice had a tinge of frustration but you cuddled into your boyfriend's arms. 

"You can't just wander off without a word, in this world, I need to know where you are." He pleaded with you, his eyes finding yours as you bite down on your lip and nod at him. 

"I worry because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you." He whispers as you kiss his cheek softly, 

"I love you too," You whisper back to him as his eyes start to fill with tears.

"I...I just can't lose you, Yn. Not now, not ever," He whispers as tears start to fall down his cheeks, your arms wrapping around him and cuddling closer to him. Your chest hitting something hard in his pocket,

"What-" Your laugh cut you off as you felt the box inside of his pocket.

"Oh," He groans pulling the box out from his jacket pocket and holding out the small velvet box. It was something he'd been planning to give to you at dinner that night before all of this had happened.

Slowly he opened the box and revealed a delicate diamond necklace. 

"I got this for you, I wanted to give it to you tonight, but I messed everything up," He laughed softly as you traced your fingers over the intricate design. 

"Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much you mean to me," He begged, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears before you nodded slowly, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Okay," You whispered, kissing him softly as he carefully put the necklace around your neck and made sure it was perfectly sitting on your skin.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@stayconnecteed@saymyspringrain@toplinehyunjin@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@just-aelia@choisoorin@straykids5star@midnightfrog625@beccaskz@scarletemeterio@halesandy@junhannies@gothic4under4lord@lixie-phoria@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lensfilm@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact@kpopsstuffs@chaeyoungs@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@niktwazny303@moonlight-the-writer@armystay89@hadassahchan@yxngbxkkie@myyouthdonut@extrhotjne@ca11me3mily@elissasimp@piercedddriver

[nudnickel]

The Furby Trainer's Guide DELUXE! Put together by the fans, for the fans!

FINALLY! After 25 years, the Furby community has come together to make the newest addition to the Furby Trainer's Guide series…THE FURBY TRAINER'S GUIDE DELUXE!

In it, you'll find a layout reminiscent to the previous ones, but updated with new information, chapters, sections, images, illustrations, and so much more.

And best of all, it's all FREE TO READ! 445 pages worth of new and updated content!! Download and read the PDF at this link: http://tinyurl.com/FurbyTrainersGuide

Please reblog this so other Furby fans can refer to this guide if needed, and feel free to send it to anyone you feel might be interested :D

EASIEST WAYS TO OPEN THE PDF AFTER DOWNLOADING:

PC: Open it using Adobe Acrobat, which you can download for free here: https://get.adobe.com/reader/

Mobile: Download Adobe Acrobat PDF viewer for mobile devices

What to do if you can't download the file:

First, try checking it out on archive.org: https://archive.org/details/furby-trainers-guide-deluxe-2024

On mobile: You should be able to read the PDF within Google Drive itself. Opening this on mobile may take a few minutes, so leave your device open while you go get a snack to eat while reading the book.

On computer: Since a lot of online PDF sites require a subscription to view large files, i suggest downloading the file onto an external drive like a USB stick and SD card and opening it on Okular from there.

[chlochette-sunde]

Know your Destiel/Cockles history: a calendar 

As a newcomer on Tumblr and on the Supernatural fandom, I first had trouble following all the past events that were regularly reminded and celebrated.

On this very special day (December 14th, European time), the following post is an attempt at listing those events, focusing on Destiel and Cockles (with a hint of Jenmisheel). Feel free to advise me for more (or less) dates!

Acknowledgement: The idea came from @youchangedmedestiel who also contributed to the content. The present post would never have been possible without @livebloggingmydescentintomadness 's Cockles masterlist. Color code: Destiel / Cockles

Honorary periodic event: FIMMF (Finger In My Mouth Friday)

January

12th: "Mish. Dee." (2021) - 1

16th: Broadcast of 15x09 “The Trap” (2020) - /

17th: ‘Isn't the season you met Misha?’ ‘Taste the rainbow’ JaxCon (2016) - 1

18th: The abandoned Jenmisheel podcast (2022) - 1

24th: Dean's birthday + ‘Jensen's the horse’ HousCon (2015) - / + 1

February

2nd: Broadcast of 12x10 “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets” (2017) - /

14th: Destiel wedding anniversary (2021)

16th: Broadcast of 12x12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)” (2017) - /

26th: ‘Which is funny, because so do I’ JIB11 (2023) - 1

28th: ‘Misha's been working out’ ‘He has though, hasn't he?’ NashCon (2016) - 1

March

1st: Jensen Ackles' birthday (1978) - 1 2 3 4

18th: Danneel Ackles' birthday (1979)

20th: Broadcast of 8x17 “Goodbye Stranger” + Gag reel (2013) - / + 1

23rd: Broadcast of 7x17 “The Born-Again Identity” (2012) + Broadcast of 15x13 “Destiny’s Child” + Gag reel (Jensen's infamous fart joke) (2020) - / + 1

April

1st: Mishapocalypse (2013) + Mishapocalypse 2.0 (2023) - 1 2 + 3

10th: “When Harry Met Sally” JIB2 (2011) - 1

13th: Season 15 EW Photoshoot (2020) - 1 2

15th: Broadcast of 5x18 “Point of No Return” + Gag reel (blowjob+‘we’re missing the gay angel’+‘confetti it’s a parade’) (2010) - 1 + 2 3 4 

15th: Bishagate 2.0 NJCon (2023) + Misha’s Cas essay (2022) - 1 2 + 3

23th: Bishagate ‘I’m all three’ NJCon (2022) - 1

25th: ‘I happen to be straight’ (2022) - 1 2

27th: Broadcast of 12x19 “The Future” (2017) - 1 2 3 4

28th: ‘Balls deep’ CR8 (2024) - 1

29th: Broadcast of 6x19 “Mommy Dearest” + Gag reel (2011) - 1

May

6th: Broadcast of 6x20 “The Man Who Would Be King” (2011) - /

7th: First release of 'Watching Over Me' (2021) - 1

19th: Straddlegate JIB10 (2019) - 1 2 3 4

21st: Jensen's bear underwear reveal JIB8 (2017) - 1

23rd: ‘Okay babe’ (2021) - 1

24th: Misha tenderly rescuing Jensen+’We like you the best’+Hitch scene JIB5 (2014) - 1 2 3

26th: ‘It’s not a subtext. It was clear text.’ PurCon8 (2024) - 1

27th: ‘I talked to Jensen and Danneel this morning because I couldn’t sleep’ PurCon7 (2023) - 1

June

July

1st: ‘I miss my blanky’ + ‘I love you’ VS ‘I need you’ (2021 (yes, on the same fucking day)) + ‘Also, Cas is gay.’ (2023) - 1 2 3 + 4

14th: 'Destiel is Cockles Fault' Day SFCon (2024) - 1

24th: ‘Wow, that was really informative. Thank you.’ SDCC (2011) + ‘How do you know’ SDCC (2016) - 1 + 2

August

9th: Destiel fanfics first ship to reach the milestone of 100,000 stories 'I have to admit, I like being on top' (2021)

13th: ‘I’d love to do a Western…slash romcom with Misha’ VanCon (2017) - 1

17th: Cockles day at sea (2015) + ‘I would probably choose to be the car, because Dean would ride me all day’ SPNDEN (2018) - 1 2 + 3

18th: Destiel winning TV Choice Best Chemistry (2015) - 1

20th: Misha Collins' birthday (1974) - 1

September

8th: Release of "Some things I Still Can't Tell You", poetry book by Misha Collins - Men in the Woods (2021) - 1

13th: First broadcast of Supernatural (2005) - /

18th: Broadcast of Lazarus Rising, first appearance of Castiel (2008) + First release of Jensen publicly singing 'Angeles' (2012) (+Bonus: Jensen serenading Misha at JIB11 (2023)) - 1 + 2 3 4

24th: Broadcast of 5x03 “Free to Be You and Me” (2009) (Bonus: reference of ‘personal space’ at SFCon (2024)) - 1

October

11th: Danneel Ackles, sharing a picture of Jensen, reading "Some things I still can't tell you" by the fire, Misha tagged on his heart (2021) - 1 2 

13th: Broadcast of 12x01 “Keep Calm and Carry On” + ‘You're poking me’ Gag reel (2016) - 1

16th: ‘He’s like an angel plushie’ DenCon (2021) - 1

20th: ‘I can say whatever I want because Danneel is in love with you' HCCB (2024) - 1 

21st: Broadcast of 10x03 “Soul Survivor” + ‘Aloha cowboy’ Gag reel (2014) - 1 2

23rd: ‘I should have said ‘I love you too’ and hugged him’ VanCon (2022) - 1

28th: Broadcast of 11x04 “Baby” (2015) (Bonus: reenactment of the CasDean scene at JIB7 (2016))

November

5th: Broadcast of 15x18 "Despair" - Destiel's anniversary (2020) - /

8th: ‘Homosexual declaration of love’ Darklight Online Con (2020) + 'I live it' (2021) - 1 (no official proof because the panel has mysteriously been deleted from social medias around the 26th) + 2

11th: Broadcast of 10x05 “Fan Fiction” (2014) - /

12th: Broadcast of 9x06 “Heaven Can't Wait” (2013) - /

16th: Broadcast of 13x06 “Tombstone” (2017) + ‘Release the tapes!’ Day (2020) - / + 1

19th: Broadcast of 15x20 "Carry on" -> Last episode of Supernatural (so far 🕯🤞🏻) (2020) + Misha sharing by mistake (?) “The epic love story of Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins” blog (2013) - / + 1 2

24-25th: 'y yo a ti' (2020) - 1 

24th: ‘His ferret goes other places’ (2024) - 1

26th: Misha having to live stream and do PR during Thanksgiving, in mid divorce, following 'y yo a ti' (2020) - 1

December

1st: Danneel sharing a post to promote "The Adventurous Eaters Club", featuring Jensen and their kids (2019) - 1 2

5th: ‘I love you, not like a brother, but like a lover’ CCXP (2024) - 1 2

6th: ‘Cas was supposed to have his arm around Dean in the bar’ CCXP (2024) - 1 2

14th: Cockles anniversary (2009) + Introduction of 'Eyes Like The Sky' beer (2020) - 1 2 3 + 4

19th: Jenmisheel holiday package (2017) - 1 2

[lookingforhappy]

thnk u @air--so--sweet for pointing out the tua prop auction, i am obssessed so ofc im now writing up my own transcripts for stuff. i bet someone else has done this but i couldnt find it so here's my record of it:

this is from Reginald's red book in s1 (i presume the dates are written day/month/year as Reginald is english)

transcript:

"#00.01 Behaviour Part 4 -When given opportunity, he acts in accordance to my expectations, and to my instruction, and only to my expectation and instructions. Further experiments needed to figure out the extent of his blind loyalty. -Unknowable at this time if this productive for the cause or detrimental for the cause. 4/03/01 Conducted experiment in which I sent #00.01 to this woods to watch for threats. Not only did he not ask about said threats, he found ways to come up with his own possible threats. He stood watch in a weak, slight base camp from dawn until dusk, without asking if he should stay on overnight. He is still there. -Is it truly best to have the best follower be the leader??"

transcript:

"5/09/01 Another experiment conducted in which I gave #00.01 an unknowable mission, but this time had him try to lead the team in his cause. I instructed #00.01 to take the team and patrol the state beach. Up and down. Until the threat revealed itself. Within hours all members had referred to pursue mission on such little intel. #00.01 never stopped. Even after the pleading from #00.03. Whom usually shows an emotional weakness for. #00.03 Abilities Part 3 -Makes one wonder if she is all the Umbrella Academy really needs. -Her full potential makes the rest of the team look like an afterthought. -How can I convince her the team needs her? Confounded at not being able to capture a non-existent opponent flag. Their petty feud seems to know no bounds. But if the feud motivates #00.02 in a way to suceed in that types of scale, so be it. Work-load Capacity Ranking 1-#00.05 (negated by disregard for rules and safety) 2-#00.01 (enhanced by propensity to protect siblings) 3-#00.03 (strength in collaboration) 4-#00.06 (follower) 5-#00.04 (untapped and unfocused potential) 6-#00.02 (could be 1st or 6th depending on mood) Discipline Notes -Physical pain yields best results with males. -Emotional trauma yields best results with #00.03 and Klaus. Especially when inflicted on others. -Separation from group does not work on #00.02."

transcript:

"-Sensory Statistics -Visual - 21.4% -Auditory - 8.7% -Kinesthetic - 69.9% -Disorders -Likely tendency toward Oppositional Disorder (ODD) -Maternal family history of possible sociopathy (seems incongruent to dynamics with Seven; background research ongoing ref p.49) -Phobias -Darkness -Solitude -Binds Effective Behaviours Modification Techniques"

edit 03/07/2024: spelling corrections 😬

my thoughts beneath the cut:

Pic 1

interesting that Reginald seems more interested in Luther's psychology, and whether it's a mistake for him to be the leader due to his blind loyalty and strict adherence to instruction (to me, Luther reads as somewhat autistic here, following rules to the letter, but this could also be a result of childhood abuse).

Reginald's interest in Luther's blind loyalty, and experimenting on him to test where or if he has a limit on said loyalty, is very similar to the moon mission. Reginald said there was a purpose to it in s3, but maybe the purpose was testing the extent of Luther's loyalty. Maybe he was waiting to see at what point would Luther actually start to ask his father questions, or make requests of him or even outright defy him. We know Luther had started asking for more food, but maybe Reginald was pushing him further, to see at what point he'd ask to come home.

Since Reginald didn't send any of the Sparrows to the Moon it would seem like Luther's moon mission was unneccessary, but to Reginald there was nothing more important than training the children. Since Reginald seems to doubt whether having a Follower be a Leader, maybe he was trying to force Luther into a position that would help him learn how to use his own initiative?

Pic 2

this one is a gold mine.

Luther once again cannot not follow instruction or leave his work unfinished, but he's also considered to be very protective of his siblings by Reginald (which is a good thing in Reginald's books).

Allison is desperate for him to stop, but also seems like she has self-worth or anxiety issues that Reginald is unable to cure her of, likely related to her feeling like people would hate her if they knew the real her.

Diego's feud with Luther over being no.1 wasn't intentional on Reginald's side, but he didn't discourage it either as he felt it motivated Diego. Which is probably related to the fact that Diego doesn't seem to work well without the group. He also says Diego could be no.1 if he sorted out his emotions, but he ranks him in last.

Five is marked top of the group, above even Luther, but he's too opposed to rules and safety in Reginald's eyes.

Ben seems to be keeping quiet and doing as he's told, which also seems to be a good thing to Reginald.

also interesting that Klaus is referred to by name not number, and is grouped with Allison rather than with the "males".

I don't think "physical pain" refers to torture or corporal punishment, but perhaps exhaustion or intense physical regimines? Mostly because Reginald seems extremely hands off with the kids.

Pic 3

It doesn't say who this entry is about but "Oppositional Disorder" and "sociopathy" seems most consistent with Five. and now that we know his mother was a butcher, she seems the most likely candidate to have been thought a sociopath.

(edit: Although, Klaus is also suggested to have ODD in S3, this doesn't seem consistent with the earlier entry mentioning he is more receptive to emotional pain and pain inflicted on others, than to physical pain inflicted to himself. Plus, Rachel seems very emotionally intelligent, and this entry points out a positive relationship with Viktor which has always been more Five's thing)

I don't agree with the sociopath diagnosis, but it seems Reginald is hestitant to diagnose it in the first place since he notes that Five has a good relationship with Viktor, probably meaning he's not devoid of empathy.

the Phobias is also interesting. Darkness, Solitude and Binds all suggest he was forced into similar situations as Klaus and Viktor, where he had to use his powers to escape cramped conditions. the fact that he notes Solitude is one of his phobias is also v sad all things considered. plus the fact that Five is the only Brelly to sleep on a separate floor to the other 6 siblings - maybe this was Reginald's attempt to cure him of this phobia?

[astro-cattus]

A Change of Perspective

I was not expecting so much attention on my latest Flatland artwork, as I´m writting my biggest post so far it´s about to hit 400 notes.

Thank you to everyone for sharing my artwork, following me and thanks to everybody leaving comments on them, I truly appreciate what you have to say about my work!

So, I wanted to write a little about my personal relationship with this novel. Although small, it did help me create a point of reference for my growth over these years.

I knew about this novel since 2016, after the 2016 Bill Q&A mentions Edwin A. Abott. Of course my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to figure out this world. I ended up falling on a 4th dimension theory and Mathematics rabbit hole.

Since a lot of conversations surrounding the book where around theories on the 4th dimension, rather than giving political comentary on the book. As it´s rediscovery was made in the year 1920´s, one could imagine why that was the case. For the most part, due to Einstein´s main interest being how Edwin A. was able to somehow predict the 4th dimension´s existence.

Thanks to this, I didn´t take Flatland´s themes into consideration, and just read a few chapters out of order.

July 2024, The Book of Bill releases. Once again, there´s a reference to the novel in one of the pages. And for old times sake I decided to revisit Flatland. Curiously it´s when I got recommended the 2007 Flatland movie to no end, I eventually, after a long weekend of College work, decided to watch it as I animated.

After that, I decided this time I would finally give myself the time to finish the novel. With an older and more open mind I was able to finish the book and understand it´s themes; critiquing bigotry and seeing the world through a whole new perspective. Makes me wish little me finished the book instead of taking its message for granted, could’ve helped get over some mayor denial I had back then.

I believe things happen a certain way for a reason, maybe it was for the better that I didn’t finish that book back then, at least it gave me the opportunity to better appreciate it :^]c

I hope this community keeps on growing. And I hope to see more people create more content for this interesting world!

[ecrivainalene]

Leviathan Panel at Otakon 2024

I was OVERJOYED to be at the Leviathan panel during Otakon 2024! I'll do my best to recap it below, but if you want a more coherent play by play, this Twitter user did an excellent job.

I've got a handful of photos, recap of Sharp Gender Discussion, plus misc. things I remember.

Not everyone was up for the entire time, but I snapped this photo near the end when everyone was on stage! From left to right: Waki Kiyotaka (Studio Orange), Yoshihiro Watanabe (Studio Orange), Scott Westerfeld, Christophe Ferreira (Quibic Pictures), Justin Leach (Quibic Pictures), Katrina Minett (Quibic Pictures), and Diana Garnet (ending theme vocalist).

New concept art! Looks like Dr. Barlow, Klopp, Alek, and Sharp, right before the Germans attack the Leviathan.

More under the cut!

Alternative shot of that art bc I couldn't get my lighting right:

Clanker and Darwinist technology designs. Watanave explained that Studio Orange's early days were spent doing contract work on Gundam anime, so I can't wait to see how that translates to the Clanker machines.

Some more concept art:

By the way, the entire series is being adapted at once - so we'll get the complete story at once! That in mind, the second image here makes me think of that maneuver near the beginning of Goliath to pick up the cargo.

Sharp!!! Look at them!!!

I don't have much to say about these but I'm fairly sure I hadn't seen them before. I am wondering if they downsized Alek's crew for the sake of the story, or perhaps we just haven't seem Bauer and Hoffman yet.

We got some new character art! The panel was very cryptic about who the character designer is. Apparently they're pretty well known, but they can't share it yet!

Volger I am so sorry your photo was unfocused. Forgive me.

The panel jokingly described him as "Alek's dad," which feels accurate. And maybe I misunderstood, but it sounds like he plays an even more important role in the anime than he does in the books. I've always considered Volger to be a pretty important character, so I wonder what else he'll do in this new series.

Klopp looks exactly like how I pictured him in my mind!! They said if Volger is Alek's dad, then Klopp is like his mom. Which is very fair but also made me laugh a lot.

Dr. Barlow!! She looks amazing. There was a lot of talk about the dynamic between her and Volger and how they're often playing mental chess games with each other. I'm really glad they're leaning into that dynamic.

And one more concept art:

This looks like the visit to Istanbul, which I'm desperately hoping means we'll see my favorite chaotic bisexual, Lilit.

That's all of the photos I have! They also showed us a preview of the show plus a live performance of the ending song with Diana Garnet. No video recording was allowed and I don't break rules, but believe me when I tell you it was stunning. The world feels so full of life and adventure and I can't wait to see the final show.

Tbh I was too busy holding back tears of joy but one thing I remember distinctly is there's a shot of Sharp getting ready for the day, and we see a sheet of paper with a bunch of names written and crossed out before finally (I think) "Dylan" is circled.

Which actually brings me to the Q&A part. TLDR, between the use of "Sharp" for Deryn's name, Scott referring to Sharp as "she/he/they" during the panel, and the scene I mentioned earlier, I feel really hopeful about how they're approaching Deryn's gender and identity in this adaptation.

I asked a question about this at the Q&A and voice recorded it, so I'll try to transcribe it here as best I can because the audio is not great lol. I stumbled through my question so I trimmed it down here but I'll transcribe the response as clearly as I can!

Me: I just finished re-reading [the series] for the first time since I was probably in high school, and one of the things that interests me about this adaptation is the approach to Sharp's character... I guess I'm just interested, like, was there a lot of thought put behind, or what kind of thought was put behind how to approach their character in the anime, I guess as a chance to re-approach the story however many years after it was originally written.

Scott Westerfeld: Yeah, there's a lot to that. The "girl dressing as a boy" as a trope was something completely different in 2007 when I started writing this than it is now. And so we really approached Deryn's identity as what was at stake rather than just... rather than just her being in disguise, it's about their recreating themselves and becoming a different person and transitioning and, and so... but it's always been interesting to me that the words that I wrote back in 2009, 10, 11, y'know, as an old guy who grew up in Texas in the 70s - who was David Bowie fan! - but otherwise didn't have a lot of access into issues of gender, I'm amazed at how many people have been [able to?] adopt Deryn/Dylan as one of their own. I just got an email a week ago from a trans boy whose chosen name is Dylan. So it is amazing to me how whatever imperfections or whatever problematics there are in the text, people still find their way into what they need from a character. And as a writer, I can say that I always respected that character, I always respected their choices, I always respected who they were. I never tried to stick them into a dress and have everyone go "Ooh now you're pretty 'because 'cause you're in dress!" We didn't do that, and I think that what may be important for people and I think that's why it's still what's gonna work here, but it's been fun to be able to update it and everybody on the team's been really great about understanding that.

TLDR I don't want to get anyone's hopes up too high, but I'm really appreciative of the care that's being taken with Sharp's story and identity in this adaptation. It seems like Scott and the others on the team are taking that into account, and I'm excited to see how it plays out.

Other random things I remember:

THERE WAS AN ALEK COSPLAYER. I took a photo with them but I won't post it without their consent. Just trust that they looked fantastic.

Scott said one of the first things he was told was that Alek can't actually kill Nikola Tesla because he's too well loved by people in Japan, which I think is the funniest possible reason for a change to be made in an adaptation.

Diana Garnet (they/any) mentioned how much they love Sharp (don't we all) and also how they used to work at a Barnes and Noble and remembers selling lots of Westerfeld books!

Scott said his approach in writing Leviathan was taking everything he'd always wanted to write about and basically throwing it together, because he was just coming off of the success of Uglies and figured he could get away with it.

If I remember anything else I'll add on to this post! Overall, it was a wonderful panel and I'm incredibly excited for this project.

[breelandwalker]

Witchcraft: A History in Thirteen Trials

Marion Gibson, Scribner, 2024.

Just found this book and read some excerpts. I am DEFINITELY recommending this as a must-have addition to witchy reference libraries. I'm also going to be checking out more from this author, as I'm already impressed.

Gibson, who is the author of several books on the history of witchcraft and paganism, traces the development of the idea of demoniacal witches and the public attitudes and prejudices creating them through the course of thirteen landmark trials from around the world and spanning seven centuries of history. More importantly, the author makes clear that although history may remember the victims of these trials as witches, they were no such thing.

From the publisher's description:

National Bestseller A New Yorker Best Book of 2024 A “thought-provoking and timely” (The Times, London) global history of witch trials across Europe, Africa, and the Americas, told through thirteen distinct trials that illuminate a pattern of demonization and conspiratorial thinking that has profoundly shaped human history. This “inventive and compelling” (The Times Literary Supplement, London) work of social history travels through thirteen witch trials across history, some famous—like the Salem witch trials—and some lesser-known: on Vardø island, Norway, in the 1620s, where an indigenous Sami woman was accused of murder; in France in 1731, during the country’s last witch trial, where a young woman was pitted against her confessor and cult leader; in Lesotho in 1948, where British colonial authorities executed local leaders. Exploring how witchcraft was feared, then decriminalized, and then reimagined as gendered persecution, Witchcraft takes on the intersections between gender and power, indigenous spirituality and colonial rule, political conspiracy and individual resistance. Offering a striking, dramatic journey unspooling over centuries and across continents, Witchcraft is a “well-rounded insight into some of the strangest and cruelest moments in history” (Buzz Magazine), giving voice to those who have been silenced by history.

Marion Gibson is Professor of Renaissance and Magical Literatures at the University of Exeter, UK. She is the author of seven academic books on witches in history and literature: Reading Witchcraft; Possession, Puritanism, and Print; Witchcraft Myths in American Culture; Imagining the Pagan Past; Rediscovering Renaissance Witchcraft; Witchcraft: The Basics and, with Jo Esra, Shakespeare’s Demonology. Marion has also edited five books for publishers such as Routledge and Ashgate, published around twenty chapters and articles, and she is General Editor of the series Elements in Magic for Cambridge University Press. Witchcraft: A History in Thirteen Trials is her most recent work.