#High-end brand construction

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[kyoghurts]

WHO FELL FIRST, WHO FELL HARDER ft. mashle various!

self explanatory title — starring mash, finn, lance, dot, lemon, orter, rayne, kaldo, abel, abyss.

✹ MASH BURNEDEAD

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him

it didn’t take two to furnish a soft spot for mash in the home of your heart where you’re built of little pieces of people you deeply care about, a home with a little bit of everything, full of love in each brand of its own from others who give.

but mash is the first to make you want to give your own love, a brand that you call yours, the one that’s unique and careful and gentle. and who is he to not fall for you? hell, it made him collapse into you more. the moment you said you want that kind of peaceful life with him if life grants you the opportunity, who is he if not the one who’ll do anything to make it happen? thats it. you bagged a sweetheart with a killer streak who’ll treat you right. who’ll be your loving and thoughtful partner for life, even if he has no experience in his bones, his wants shall move him in places towards a home built for two, your pieces and his pieces together in a mismatch of furniture and miscellaneous. who’ll live a domestic dream where you spend your days doing mundane things and learning mundane parts of each other.

✹ FINN AMES

who fell first : him

who fell harder : both of you

ah, the high school sweethearts with shy slips of gazes in class and tender chase of each other's fingers in private little pockets of the universe. he fell in love with your caring personality, and he fell even more with the way you fell for him. he didn’t think it’d be possible, but every day, his love grows, and your radiance (who brightens even the most dimly lit person, like his brother, as he introduces you to rayne as confident as he can get.) is the cause of it. you're both each other's sun, orbiting until you’re inseparable.

✹ LANCE CROWN

who fell first : him

who fell harder : you

CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, and if we're not speaking in canon—which i'm 98% sure he'll never have eyes to anyone as he's committed to his goals with his whole life, to the point he's considered (and is) a siscon—but if you manage to land on the 2% which can be a talent, then, congrats! it's automatic that he'd fall for you first, there's something about you that makes you so special, like his sister, but not entirely a form of figure that he idolizes or worship. with time, he sees you in a way that's real, different from the version he constructs in his head. you’re full of flaws and so human, that he didn't imagine himself wanting to take care of you but also see you stand in your light, to bask in your human warmth and win your heart.

once you unravel the six layers of boundaries beneath him, again, it's a talent of sorts that you must've had since you were born, it feels like you're starting to understand him—among many weird traits, you know he has a good heart, a very strong one that he carries by himself, and slowly but surely, you want to hold it with him together. just as he gradually do with yours.

✹ DOT BARRETT

who fell first : him

who fell harder : him

the most loyal to lemon, ever falling for you instead? outrageous, but listen: similarly to lance, i think he's never felt real with anyone other than you. there's so many things in life he hasn't experienced yet, but the lines in his palm are full of firsts, with you, he realizes a lot about himself because of you, and he doesn't regret wanting you. truly, he knows there's a lot to learn, he may do some rash decisions and profess his love but he won't say it, he wants to cherish you even if he'll end up with nothing. he's all for it. he's all for you.

✹ LEMON IRVINE

who fell first : you

who fell harder : you (and eventually, she does too.)

breaking the canon once again. i won't say it's impossible, but i won't say it's easy either. simple, sure, you love her bubbly and affable disposition, she takes you in with grace, but what comes after knowing she's dead set on mash? you'll follow the hopeless romantic lane! and the more you hear her ramble about her love and how she has her moments of fearlessness and courage because of him, who are you to take that away from her?

but things can get a little complicated once she starts missing your presence when you purposely tried to avoid her, to distance yourself physically, though your heart still reaches for her in a yearning ache. when her eyes seemed to drift off to yours more frequently than mash, something in you is cruel enough to take the chance. something in you wells with craving happiness you've been holding back for so long. greedy, you almost didn't recognise yourself, but little did you know that she's going through the same thing. albeit more obliviously.

✹ ORTER MADL

who fell first : him

who fell harder : you (or both, not that he’d admit it)

you're so high up your arse that he can't stand you. but you tell him the same thing as if it hasn’t drilled into his brain yet, you treat him like a child in his emo phase and he treats you like a nagging old person thinking they know everything there is to exist. but what should have he expected from you when you’re both assigned to a mission that he’s certain he can carry himself? definitely not him commending your strength afterwards. and even as far as to check up on your accidental wounds because of his teeny tiny carelessness (because he was in awe, actually, just by a glimpse. how you took charge of the situation, how you didn’t let a second slip past your fingers, taking the slits of skin instead as the criminal went for him. how you protected his back throughout the entire time), he feels a slight pang of guilt in his chest, though perhaps that's not the sole reason he wanted to see you.

it didn’t felt right anymore when you’re not there, or when you remain quiet despite his usual taunts or off-handed remarks, the ones that always catch your attention the most. after what happened, he seemed to feel uneasy with your silence, so when he learned that his strategy isn’t working any longer, he pulls a chair across where you sit in the common room and demands you to talk to him. about what? about anything, about you, about that drink/tea you’re savouring in your hands, about what’s going on in that little head of yours.

you liked this side of him, so every night when given the opportunity, you both exchange something about yourselves for the sake of releasing inexplicable tension sitting uncomfortably between you, orter being the selfish one as he dodges certain question that touches a bit too personal for him. but that made you all the more closer to him, continuously asking and staying curious to your feet.

eventually, he starts sitting beside you, your voice trickling so soft in his ears that altered some sort of his brain chemistry, melting his senses until he’s too drunk in your presence to pull himself back as he confess to you. when you smile, all teeth and teasing, he thinks he’s too far gone to even regret any of this. he doesn’t regret falling for you. (and even more when you say the feeling’s mutual. though he’d rather die soon than admit it to you.)

✹ RAYNE AMES

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him

the man you so love since your first year in this academy, but you love him more as your friend, you love the simplicity of platonic affection. you ignore your longing to be his, pushed at the ends of the belly of emotions. but it comes up springing back when he did achieve his dreams to be one of the DVs. when you congratulate him, told him how you’re proud, that you missed him and his bunnies that he, on certain occasions, allows you to take care of them. it feels like you’re repeating your days back to square one, that you’re falling in love again like the first few moments you’ve spent with him. like there’s a beginning but no end to the story, circling back around tiptoeing into love’s intricate game.

and rayne, thing is, he doesn’t know what to make of you. so he tried to build some distance between you in hopes of letting the hammering feeling in his chest subside, like it’s killing him; but when you do show up at his doorstep, sweet words on your tongue, he wonders if it’s alright to admire you; whole and unnerving to even think about. but he does. and then he asks you how you’ve been during the time he was busy, how he’s lost in his thoughts as he commits you to memory, his hands tracing up your arm and finds itself cupping your jaw, fingers curling to the shape of your neck as you lose your voice. unable to speak.

he kisses you tenderly and he thinks it’s not his beating heart’s the one responsible for killing him, but rather the distance that he stupidly created because of his wrong assumptions. stupid rayne, he’s head over heels and no one is ever going to catch him if its not you.

✹ KALDO GEHENNA

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him (really? thats unlikely. he argues, the blush warming the tips of his ears takes it away though.)

you can’t really find yourself treating him seriously outside of your work, especially with his tendencies to offer you strange foods in awful levels of sugar, almost killed you at one point. it’s silly of him, and some part of you is pulled by this. it makes him more weirdly interesting than just the looks; though you’re not one to lie, that face of his is really kissable to you.

he trusts you, like, a lot. there’s more to you than simply being the devil of cunning (you two are on par with the title, but he feels as if you deserve it more). he gave you ample amount of times and opportunity to backstab and ruin him, you have the sort of reputation for doing these things, and you would’ve done it by now but you didn’t. something about that moves him in some way, maybe he’s special? maybe you like him? the thought could make him go crazy, as if your eyes on him doesn’t drive him enough. and oh, who keeps pestering you now when you’re supposed to be discussing your next agenda together, you’re never late. is he jealous? perhaps so, and when you burst into the door and explain that you had to take care of some unexpected business along the way, his throat is burning to ask you who’s bothering you. he’ll take care of it himself. no more excuses afterwards. just you and your eyes on him alone.

✹ ABEL WALKER

who fell first : him (secretly, also you.)

who fell harder : both of you.

he first felt it when you gave him a box of chocolates when he said something about having cravings, then the times you’ve offered to eat together and the times he accepted. when you brought him a soothing rub when he says he’s having headaches these days. it’s gradual, and almost sacred to look back on. but he loves it, when you said you want to do things for him without reason, there’s nothing to prove that you’re lying. your honesty is his weakness, your thoughtfulness is his medicine, and your kindness is his lost language he’s trying to find again, for you.

he offers dinner with you, and speaks of wanting this forever. wanting you, for as long as he’s able to, for as long as you want to.

you gift him a tear of happiness, cheeks damp and glowing under the amber light of the restaurant, he thinks you’re beautiful, he tells you this. and you smile like nothing else matters and my god he’ll do anything. he’ll do the things the same way you have; without conditions and expectations. without reasons that can translate the weight of his love, it will be experienced like an unwritten poetry but have spoken through your heart.

✹ ABYSS RAZOR

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him

early blue dawn is poured and soaked in the outlines of abyss’s figure with golden blaze and gleaming eyes and his hair is messy, still tangled with sleep. you watched the sunrise with him because days ago he told you he never saw one in his life before, and you stayed true to your words that you’d find a way to sneak outside school grounds and carve a spot for the view. it’s pretty, he realises, but is he talking about the sun, or about you? as he drifts to your peaceful expression, eyes still heavy ridden of sleep?

you turn to look up at him, cold wind engulfing you in its embrace, it does little to settle the warmth kindling within you. you like him enough to let your tomorrows decide with abyss always in mind. at first, you thought it’s just you being a good friend, but later on you’re starting to enjoy his presence so much that you’d rather have your time spent doing nothings and everythings with him, rather than deny the desire that you know you’ll regret holding back.

he would’ve flicker his gaze away if not for the fact that you tell him it’s okay. he hears this affirmation everyday until it starts to knock his unconscious wherever he goes, whatever he does. it’s okay to feel sad, its okay if you don’t want to, it’s okay to be with me- then now, he sees you smile and tell him i hope you’re okay with me, as if he already isn’t with you. he gets a little misty, and he thinks he’s fallen for you completely. he whispers, i want to be okay for you, too.

taglist. @seneon @caelivir @dr-felitas @luvmequmi

it got longer & sappier in the end 🫠 ajhsjkhsjh

© kyoghurts ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1960 Edsel Deluxe Hardtop

This Day in Auto History

6.7.1954

The Ford Motor Company formed a styling team to take on the project of designing an entirely new car that would later be named the Edsel. The decision came as Ford enjoyed its greatest historical success in the 1950s. The 1955 Thunderbird had outsold its Chevy counterpart, the Corvette, and the consumer demand for automobiles, in all price brackets, was steadily increasing. The Ford Motor Company consisted of four brand names: Ford, Mercury, Lincoln, and Continental, listed from lowest to highest in price range. Ford executives believed that there was a gap in the marketplace between the Mercury and the Lincoln, where a new car would compete against GM's Oldsmobile and Buick lines. In the mid-1950s, Americans seemed to have an insatiable hunger for high horse-powered, heavily styled cars, with lots of chrome and many accessories. So Ford planned to fill the public's appetite with a suitable answer. The company spared no expense in the development of its new car, even going so far as to employ famous American poet Marianne Moore to supply possibilities for its name. After an extensive name search and no satisfactory result, somebody suggested that the car be named after Henry Ford II's father, Edsel. Ford balked at the suggestion initially and later relented, on the grounds that his father deserved a tribute; he urged the car's designers to live up to his father's name. Edsel had always had a knack for design, even if his business sense hadn't always lived up to his father's expectations. The Edsel project was launched with great fanfare and vigorous advertising. During the years between the car's conception and its production, the American economy took a downturn. By the time the Edsel was released in 1957, the high end of the car market had once again contracted. Public reaction to the car's exaggerated styling was tepid at best, with particular objections aimed at the Edsel's awkward-looking "horse collar" grill. Sales for the car started slowly and foundered. Newly appointed company Vice President Robert McNamara was charged with the task of salvaging the operation. Had McNamara held the position years earlier, historians point out, the Edsel project may never have been taken on, as McNamara strongly believed Ford should concentrate on the economy car market. McNamara attempted to improve the car's construction and appearance, but when the attempt failed, he was forced to halt production of the car at a disastrous loss of $250 million. To this day, the Edsel remains the biggest failure in American car history, "a monumental disaster created for tomorrow's markets created by yesterday's statistical inputs." History has treated the Edsel more kindly, as its looks are now considered to be an attractive example of 1950s flair. Like its namesake, Edsel Ford, the Edsel has come to be known as an unfair victim of circumstance.

This 1960 Edsel Deluxe Hardtop was photographed at Das Awkscht Fescht at Macungie Park in 2022.

[xxblairexxss]

Doudou (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 (Charles’s ending)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader / Lando Norris x reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

Let me know what you feel and which side are you on!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles explored the aisle of chocolates, scanning each brand while holding a basket that was halfway full with packets of chocolates.

“Mate, that’s a lot. You tryna get high on sugar or something?”

He turned around and was greeted by Lando, who had an amused curiosity expression on. “I never knew you were that big fan of sweets.”

“No, my sweet racks needed a restock. I wasn’t gonna finish everything in one sitting.”

“Great. I was gonna say I’m one call away if you were overdosed with all that.” Lando had realised Charles’s behavior had been more light-hearted and carefree during the winter break. He wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the break or it was you. The last time he hung out with you, you did mentioned that you bumped into Charles but didn’t go into the details of what you guys talked about.

And he didn’t ask you because he wasn’t sure if he would like to know.

“Hey, uhm, did something happen between you and Y/N?”

The question made Charles stopped looking at the rows of chocolate. Lando never asked about you, it wasn’t a topic that he would put on the table if you weren’t presence.

“Yeah, I mean, no. I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. You just look different.”

“I haven’t heard her voice for so long, mate. Hearing her voice was enough to lift up my spirit even if the conversation I had with her wasn’t exactly how I wished.”

Your voice was his favourite song.

“I didn’t know you were this close with her.”

Lando was taken aback. He thought he sounded casual with the conversations but it seemed like some of his true feelings slipped off along with the words he had spoken. “No, we only shared a couple of texts and phone calls. It wasn’t anything more than that.”

“Chill, I was just saying. She deserved a good friend like you, Lando. I wasn’t gonna stop you from hanging out with her or anything. I just…wanted her to be happy and I know she’s in a good hand with her friends…. and you.”

But Lando knew Charles said that because he was far off, way far off compared to what you and him had been through.

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 334,546 others

ynusername bb face *(*❦ω❦)*

username belleee

username la plus belleee 😍

username Your hair is cuteee

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You scrambled through the cabinet to find that one thing that had always been there when you didn’t need it but vanished when you badly needed it, like right now.

“Ah! Here it is!”

The sound of doorbell broke the silence in your apartment. You had a slept over with your friend yesterday and the house was a mess. It wasn’t that bad but messier than usual. Your friend, Lia had decided to bake her own version of cake to celebrate your first job and to make it short, the cake wasn’t edible but it was the thoughts that was counted. So now your kitchen was a mess chocolate chips was everywhere, the dishes, the batter. It was best to say that your kitchen was under construction at the moment.

“Charles? What are you doing here?” You were in an oversized hoodie, your hair was a mess, your head was throbbing and your period cramp was like cherry on the cake. Complete set.

“Hey, I brought some chocolates for you…”

“Chocolates for…?”

“Your period cravings?”

You weren’t gonna ask how he knew about it because you knew he had always set a reminder on his phone. But you didn’t expect him to still keep the reminder on.

“You still set it on?”

“I never turned it off. I am not sure if you had a new favourite so I bought some of your all time favourite and some of them are new ones. It has new flavour written on the packaging but I didn’t buy any flavour that has fruits.”

Because you hate fruits and chocolates combination.

He rubbed on the back of his neck awkwardly and was going to walk away as you took the bag of chocolates and sweets but you stopped him.

“Do you…wanna come in?”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You just wanna dug a hole and hide your face when the reality hit. You shouldn’t have invited him in because you were only humiliating yourself. You could see the way Charles blinked as he walked into your apartment.

“Did you get rob?”

“No….Lia came over last night and we were trying to bake to celebrate my first job but it didn’t go according to plan. I didn’t get to clean up the mess because I woke up with a headache and—“

“It’s okay. Give me that.” Charles stepped closer and and took the heating pad that you had in your arms, the thing that you were looking for before he rang the doorbell. “You should go and rest, I’ll fill up the heating pad and make ginger tea for you.”

“Can you make the tea with honey and—“

“Lemon, yeah I know, silly.”

He knew you couldn’t stand the smell of ginger tea alone.

The heating pad and tea did help to soothe some of the pain but you were still feeling awful. Charles had left you alone in the living room and you could hear the thud and clunk sound from the kitchen as he cleaned up the mess and cooked a simple and the only pasta recipe he knew that would be edible even if he cooked it horribly.

After all those ruckus, you were both now sitting on the couch with some random movie playing on the screen of the television.

“You really didn’t have to buy this much chocolates. I won’t be able to finish it.” You chuckled at the bag of snacks sitting on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I would end up with a bag full of it. The new flavours were the one that sold me out.”

“Do you wanna try some of it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

After spending like half an hour rating half of the chocolates, they ended up making you feel drowsy. Charles had noticed your head kept on falling forward as the sleep tried to win you over. He took the heating pad from your hand to change the water inside before pulling you to his side which caused you to jolted awake.

“Do you want to lay down?”

“Yeah. Can you hold me….?”

“Of course, doudou.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You fell asleep in his embrace, the embrace that completed the missing piece of comfort in your heart after the night. You had your ear against his chest and the sound of his heartbeat was a comfort to you. You could smell his cologne and feel the rhythm of his breathing as your head moved along with his chest as he breathed. You missed everything. You missed him.

“I haven’t washed my hair.” He tittered to your sudden remark which made your heart flutter.

“Is that what woke you up? It’s not the first time I have seen you on your period. I still think you look beautiful.” His palm went back to apply light pressure on your stomach.

“At any point in your life when we stopped talking, have you ever regretted what happened to us that night?” That was the actual thought that woke you up.

“Every second of it.”

“Charles?” You looked up.

“Yeah?”

“If our story was only meant to be up until this point in our lives, how would you take it?” You could feel your throat closing up as you imagined the end of us, the life where Charles was no longer in the frame with you. It was a hypothetical question. You just wanted to know what his answer would be.

Charles believed the question, or the possibility of you not being in his arms, either of it gave him goosebumps.

“Do you see yourself being happy after it ended?”

“That’s not the answer!”

“Answer the question first. If our story was to end here, where do you see yourself?”

“What if I can’t see myself ever being happy?

“Then I am still gonna chase after you. I have never prayed for anything so bad but I would beg for the universe that somehow, in any case that it could hear me, all I asked for is a chance to fix everything, to be with you again.”

“What if I see myself being happy after our story ended?”

“Then I would feel strange.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just strange to see evidence of you changing and continuing on without me being there to witness it. But you said you would be happy. I think being given a chance to grow up with you and learn about love together was enough to shape me for who I am today so it would be selfish for me to ask for more chances to be with you when you are already happy on your next chapter of you life. So, maybe if our story was to end here, I’m gonna continue with my life, it’s gonna hurt, of course, but I’ll always go back to reread our chapter all over again and remind myself that you are happy, and that’s all that matters.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I don’t think this is the right shape, Lando. Look!”

“Yeah, that one has double sided holes. But it can’t be this one.”

Lando had asked for your help and when you asked him to elaborate more, he said you should know once he came over.

He came over with a 10,000 pieces set of Lego. He couldn’t ask you out on a date because he was scared you would pulled away if you knew he liked you.

But he was very desperate to get to know you better so he came up with Lego. He thought 500 pieces would be too short so he went for 10,000 one.

“Oh, look! We did it! We did the first section. How many sections left?” You placed the small stacked up section away to start with the next one.

“I think we have….40 sections left. Yeah, 40.”

“What?! Ugh, that one took us 30 minutes because you weren’t helping.”

“Oh, yeah? I wasn’t the one helping or it took 30 minutes because you just picked everything that looked like the shape without double-checking and I had to go over the steps again to fix it back?”

“I call dibs on the first one!” You laughed. Lando couldn’t help but to smile at you, the sound of your laugh made him wish he could stop the time.

“Would you drink coffee or beer for the rest of your life?”

You straighten your back and sit up to look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, just wanted to know your answer.”

“Coffee. I don’t like to drink. I only drink when I’m with someone I’m familiar with.”

“Why?”

“Why I don’t like to drink or why I only drink with someone I’m close with?”

“Both.”

“I was born with migraine. It was genetic. Beer would trigger my migraine. As in why I always drink when I’m with someone I’m close with, it’s because I’m a woman, Lando. Isn’t it not obvious?”

He cackled in response. “Oh, yeah. I just realised about it. It wasn’t that obvious, actually.”

“Lando!” You slapped on his arm. “And it was also because when I get drunk, I just become more….affectionate.”

“Interesting. Would you rather watch sports or play sports?”

You and Lando spent another hour making different sets of legos while answering some random questions like ‘comedy club or dance club’ or ‘skiing and skateboarding’ and Lando jotted down everything you said is his mental note.

Play sports, check.

Dance club, check.

Skateboarding, check.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“There was this one time my dad sent me to a karate class and—“ You bursted out into another fit of laughter and rolled your body on the fluffy carpet.

“And what?” Lando has no idea what you were going to say but he had already joined you laughing. “Y/N, what?”

“And the next day I came to school, I punched my friend in the face because I tried to show her what I’ve learned.”

“No way! Are you kidding? What happened then?” He guffawed at what he just heard, unable to imagine you punching someone in the face.

“She cried, of course! And I got scolded by my teacher.”

“That was amazing!”

“No, it’s not! I have never felt so embarrassed.”

“That was some hands-on training, wasn’t it?”

“You could say that.”

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You and Lando shared more funny stories without caring about the time and for some reason, the night felt so short. It was already midnight when you started feeling sleepy, and so was Lando.

“I’ll get going so you can take your beauty sleep, yeah?” He ruffled on your hair before taking all his stuffs except for the Lego box.

“Thank you for today, Lando.”

“No, I should be the one thanking you. I had a lot of fun tonight.”

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landoprivate

Liked by 5 others

He thought you had a lot in common with the moon; it’s light, its beauty, and its distance from him.

[simp-ly-writes]

Betting on Hearts

Cross-over: Contemporary! Peaky Blinders x The Gentlemen (2024)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Shelby!Reader,

Summary: Being the main face to the (legal*) Shelby Business Empire, you too dabble with the less than legal side when prompted to (against your Brother's wishes). So when a certain Duke and Glass Family start stirring things up on your doorstep, you decide to seduce the duke into compliance but maybe, Eddie had the same idea for you too...

Warnings: 5000~ words, depictions of blood, overprotective siblings, emotional manipulation (seduction), reader is a bit... much. Probably some other tags that I am forgetting

A/N: more notes later.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | read-through and edited.

↳ The Shelby empire was dominant in many industries and with you being among the middle children, just behind your three older brother's, you mainly took to the newer parts of the business but you of course wrangled your way to the darker sides as well no matter how much your family protested (except for Polly, she openly cheered you on before her untimely passing)

↳ You were the Queen of import/export, the face to the Gin company and co-owner to your new digital sports betting app, your younger sister Ada had stepped in to help you manage it all. Using the earnings from the gambling you put it towards the branding and advertisements of your other departments and the greater Shelby corporation

↳ Arthur, the spirited yet your mentally-barley-afloat brother as he drank half the gin you supplied to his section of the business or found himself high as a kite while insisting on keeping your hands as clean as possible, coming with you on every assignment. Arthur maintained his "Garrison" bars across the country, moving on to establish high dining and was currently trying to stick the Shelby name into hotel management.

↳ John, a man that carried a huge heart with his irresistible charm and humor. He (while trying to convince the youngest, Finn to join him) managed the productions and manufacturing of each one of your industries. Supplying the parts, the bottles and ingredients, alongside the construction materials for every one of Arthur's expansions alongside supplying for your... darker dealings. The company, to a degree, was self-sustainable

↳ And of course, you had Thomas, the mastermind of the whole empire and the one you reported every minuscule detail to at the end of the day. You wouldn't call him kind, but he was considerate to a degree. You could always count on him to protect you where other's have failed but that also caused the greatest conflict between the two of you. It was hard, managing family verses business with him, lines always threatening to be crossed as your relationship was strained. Thomas respected you deeply, you had stuck with him when the rest of the family fell apart and offered him new perspectives to cultivating legal business. Yet he was too protective of you, he couldn't stand to lose you and openly admitted that you where his first choice if he needed to choose who would live

↳ In recent times, your family was playing chess against with a rising power called the Glass family who not so suitably started poking their fingers into your sectors, fixing your gambling sites with their newest expansions. You chuckled to yourself within Tommy's house. The men reported on the new business the Glass family had established, a boxing ring as you shoved Arthur in his chair with a teasing smile.

"Remember when you wanted to become a boxer, brother?" Arthur flips you the finger, a frown emerging from his moustache as he pours himself another drink, mumbling about you being a spoiled little brat yet you don't bother to catch the end of it.

The spy coughs, returning all of your attention back as Thomas glares at you both to hold yourselves, John's face has gone red trying to conceal his laughter at the childish faces you pull at him as Thomas throws his hand up, signalling for the man to continue.

"They have been having some difficulties in expanding their weed enterprise as well, we are still trying to get to the bottom of as to why this is as the documentation we have stolen shows nothing out of the sorts." A series of copied folders and photographs are then spread against the hardwood table as your painted nails sort through each stack, categorizing them in sequential order. Your green nail taps on top of a dead mans face thoughtfully stroking his cheek as you look at the bullet hole placed in between his eyes, "And what is the backstory to this incident exactly?" you comment.

The spy looks towards Thomas who already looks bored, there was nothing of significance to be said just yet but this newest bit of information had him raising as eyebrow. "Well, that kill was confirmed to be done by the new Duke of Halstead as I were one of the men stationed to dispose of it."

The spy throws another bundle on the table labelled, "The Duke." You excitedly snatch the manila folder quicker than anyone else at on the table as your eyes dart across every picture and piece of information you can grasp. Captain, Aristocrat, Medals... More Medals, Service, First Place, Honour Roll, Head Boy, Family Strain, oh... Your thoughts pause, cheeks heating when you flick up a stapled bundle of papers, a defined uniform, blue beret. The next page a Polo champion in college and deep black suit for the funeral. Slamming the folder shut, all eyes snap to the sudden noise.

"We are joining the upper echelon of society, brothers! Do let me meet up with him- I promise not to disappoint," you plead, already knowing that you are perfect for the mission. You and the Duke were both public-facing faces with one foot in reality and another in the pits. It would be a simple mission really, you convince yourself and your brothers as they immediately protest to the idea. Step in, seduce, convince him to sign-out and step out- as simple as that.

You look at Thomas, eyes strong, eyebrows furrowed as you level his stare. "You know I'm the only who can properly do this job, Thomas and if it does not work out, we can just kill them off just like the last, right?" The spy departs, bowing his head before speedily turning out of the room as tension only rises in the room, getting caught in your throat as you hitch your breath watching as Tommy's mouth moves into an echoing, "fine."

--

↳ So here you sat, in your covered box from the sun at the races. You clapped joyfully with a smile spreading your cheeks. You tip your hat down, seeing your bets adding up on your card as Ada cheered loudly beside you, leaning over the railing as she praises your chosen racer. Interviews for the sportsmen start as the Jockey casts a wink up at your sister. Ada throws down a business card the he clutches, placing it in his breast pocket with a tap to his chest before continuing to answer the post-race questions.

"Have yourself a date?" you tease out, picking up your spiked lemonade to hide your smile curving up into a knowing smirk. "Well you are one to talk sis, I heard down the grapevine that you had a certain duke chasing after you like Cinderella," Ada rebuttals, fixing herself a drink at the cart as you eye the three shots of vodka she stirs in, "isn't that a bit much for..." you look down at your wrist-watch, "...1PM? We do have dinner at Arthur's later tonight you know."

"We all can use a pick-me-up every now and then," she comments as you hum out, eyeing up your singular shot drink before shifting further down the couch to create space for her as she removes a pillow, placing it on her lap as she kicks off her heels and sets her feet up upon the coffee table. "Now, you didn't answer my question, go on then," she sasses, setting her drink down and leaning closer to you with knowing eyes gleaming into your own.

You roll your eyes, face going red while pushing her face away from your own as she laughs, "So you do have the hots for him!"

"No, its just that a second sun is bursting in my face and plus, we could never work," you retort, now refusing to meet her chasing eyes as she grips your hand. "Oh, come on (name)! details, details! don't leave me hanging here, thats brothers work," Ada presses forward just as your resolve crumbles. You place a hand to the bride of your nose, pinching as you eyes squeeze shut. "I won't repeat myself so listen closely," you start recalling the first day you met Captain and Duke, Edward Horniman.

--

↳ Running around your house, asking various staff members of your estate as to where your old mail had been distributed you felt around the thin papers and pages till you felt weight and lifted out the invitation from the stack. Mr. Johnston's Estate invites you to his quarterly festivities, your fingers trace over the pressed letters and seal before looking towards your closet

↳ You had worn a tailored dress that perfectly accentuated your body for tonights assignment. Within a closer inspection, various hand stitched black branches and birds spread across the top sheer level of fabric set to a black backdrop. Your hair was pinned upwards, showcasing the glowing skin of your neck and upper chest that you spent way too much time blending in with your makeup.

↳ You suitably leaned against the bar-top, feet already sore from the high heels you wore to make your legs appear longer and by the looks around the room, your plan of seduction was already in the works as a woman ordered a drink for the two of you. Her red lipstick simmering brightly under the dim lights, beckoning you in closer yet you held your resolve. Thanking her for the drink while placing a hand on her own before walking towards the neighbouring room. Feeling her stare as you left, you offered her a floating kiss before turning the corner.

↳ The windows were open as you walked down the long hall towards the cheers as multiple guests played various card games within the billiards room, you pulled the sleeves of your dress down further as you dropped the drink on a floating tray- it's sickeningly sweet taste formed a headache as you pinched your temples.

↳ You strolled around the room, smiling at every face that met yours, shaking hands with others as you enjoyed watching every. single. face. fall in recognition to who they were just flirting with. Stuttering apologies, you grew disappointed when their eyes drifted cautiously around the room for a threat of a man, one of your brothers. You scoff at this, turning towards the next.

↳ With the most recent man that was trying to capitalize on the half-attention you were giving him, absent-mindlessly nodding along to his business proposition as you both strolled around the estate, you found yourselves back at the entrance as your eyes snapped over to the late party-goers just making their arrivals, one of them being just the man you were waiting for as he stumbles through the open doors.

His beauty stumps you in person, the blurry pictures you obtained from at the table do not do the man justice as he practically glows under the warm lighting above. His hair tussled in a wind-swept way as your hands itch to fix every strand. Chocolate eyes are all you want to drink in before your attention is being called back as you start to glare at the intrusion.

"So what do you think, Mademoiselle Shelby?" the man asks to you, hand starting to drift up your arm, another on your leg before your eyes snap back down to his face from over the crowd. You rip your arm away from his touch, sending him a cold smile as you fix the lapels of his jacket for him, gripping the suit closest to his neck as you pull him closer to you. Any outside looker would think your reaction to be a romantic display yet by the sweat starting to form at his hairline, you were receiving just the reaction you wanted.

"I have no interest in working with a boy who already starts to sweat at the mere touch of a woman," and with that you drop him, watching as he falls into a group of people who all glare down at him, stepping around as he scrambles out the backdoor. You fix your appearance in your phones camera before making your way towards your mission.

--

Edward Horniman's Perspective

Re-buttoning his suit jacket, he places his keys in the hands of a staff-member while making his way up the stairs. Susie had been waiting for him in the lobby rather impatiently, her foot tapping against the tiled floors as she dully looked at the floral decorations that hug around the vaulted space before her eyes snapped to Eddie form spinning around to face her.

"You look a bit shit," she says while eyeing him up and down, taking notice to the small amount of blood beginning to form at his side with distaste.

"Remind me why we're here?" Eddie states, taking the conversation reigns as he begins to glance around the room. Susie begins walking closer to him, making their way out of the foyer.

"We are here to learn why Uncle Sam wants in to your estate and subsequently our Business," Susan replies, a subtle shake of her head as if ringing out the terrible idea of it all. Her feet start to falter as she instantly notices you stepping into the room behind them both with a champagne flute delicately place in your hand.

"Then whats his business?" Eddie pushes forwards, moving them both through the sea of people as Susie snaps her head back forwards, doing her best to maintain composure and not cause a scene as she allows Eddie to guide her further into the estate.

"Meth. He's made billions from it."

"Then what are you, Susan, a drug dealer with a heart?" Eddie question's, raising a brow as he stops to pick them both up a drink. A small smile spreading across his lips as they chime together before Susie proceeds to down the rest of it.

"Everything alright?" concern now rising in his features as he looks around the room, his gaze stopping, breath intaking sharply at the sight of you. He is unable to tear his gaze away as you turn your head to face him, you offer a small smile. Eyeing the man from his shoes, the seam of his pants, his neck that swallow deeply as your hand rises from your side, up to your collarbones as you delicately play with the necklace you wear. You finally stop at his eyes as you mouth a cheeky hello before turning around back towards the bar.

Susie still remains looking at her now empty drink, unknowing to Eddie's distraction by the sound of the crowd as she continues conversation normally. "We like money just as the next man, but his gear comes with a rather violent price tag. We stay in our lane because comparatively, its a peaceful one. We let him in, carnage will follow."

Susie now looks up, noticing that Eddie had not replied to her speech as she follows his gaze to your back as your fingers play with the lip of your cup. You laugh at whatever the bartender had just said to you before your glass has been topped off once more, you turn around, flashing them both a smile before slowly making your way closer to them.

Eddie takes a step forwards, wishing to meet you halfway before Susie reigns him in, nails digging into the arm of his suit jacket as she pulls him back to her side.

"I don't think you are quite ready for the big leagues, Captain-" Susan warns, looking at the side of Eddies face before he turns back to her, a charming smile accentuating his features before he speaks.

"I just killed a man, Susie. I think I can handle speaking to a woman-"

"Hm, well thats just not any ordinary woman, Edward. That is Miss. Shelby- the possible saviour to every one of our problems if we did not already... push some buttons," Susie states, smile waning as you get progressively closer, many people still try and gain your attention as you hold up your hand, wishing not to be disturbed.

"And there's room to fix that I'm sure, but what exactly did WE do?" Before Susie could answer, your heels are in front of Eddies dress shoes as you extend a hand forwards in greeting. "Miss. Shelby," Susie greets you with a composed look, her smile dropped as she tries to stare through you.

Edward picks up your hand, pressing a kiss on to the back of it as you hold hands for longer than necessary before pulling away. "Your Grace, Miss. Glass," you greet, "a pleasure it is to see you both here tonight." Your voice is like honey, hanging in the air as you smile at them both.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Shelby," Edward replies, noticing Susie's mock indifference as she shifts her weight slightly under your faux-gentle eyes; sharped to a cutting-stare as you strike her down. "You two make a rather charming couple, if I may ask, how recent is this development?" you question, hiding your growing smirk in your drink as Eddie's gaze falls to your lips and the print you leave against the glass, snapping back up to your eyes- yours crinkle in a second greeting.

"You have yourself mistaken, Myself and Miss. Glass are merely business associates," Eddie clarify as you set your glass gently on the bar-top, hand brushing against Eddies bicep in the movement. Your eyes continue to lock on to one another, a silent conversation being played as you lean a bit closer, taking a deeper look at his features as you notice Eddies gaze roam your's own. In that moment, Susie decides to step back into the conversation.

"What does your family want?" she deadpans, eyeing the closing distance between you and Eddie with hardened eyes as her hand threatens to crush the glass in her hand. "Well, by the looks of it, your business had became my business, thanks to your mingling," you charismatically charm, hand hovering on Eddies arm as you adore the jealous look brewing inside her.

"And if you two are merely just associates, I think this calls for a more... personal discussion with the Duke since our businesses are now becoming tied together, is that not tight Susie?" you finish with as Eddie looks between the two of you, undeceiving of who to follow alongside. But by the look of your eyes snapping to his lips once more as you tongue swipes across your own, parting them slightly- his decision is made.

"I will be back in a moment, Susie," Edward says, following in-step as you lead him out of the crowded space. Just as Eddie reaches the hall, he casts his head back, sending Susie a knowing look as if to say, I'm fixing it before disappearing. Susie glares at your lipstick stained glass sat on the counter with distaste before being led towards Mr. Johnston by his assistant.

--

Your Perspective

Success, you cheer to yourself, as you loop your arm around Eddies arm, leading him towards a nearby study you know to be empty. The door softly closes behind you both. In the next moment, you pull Eddies arm to his side, shoving him against the door as it rattles from the impact.

Eddie's eyes are blown wide as he hisses out slightly in pain, forgetting about the gun-shot wound before becoming distracted by the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Your heels make you tall enough to capture his lips into a delicate battle of heated touches, your skirt being bunched up by Eddies hands, your gentle caresses of the stubble of his cheeks as playful bite his lower lip, wishing to explore more.

Gasping for air as you pull away, you further taint his skin a deep red to match his lips you coated in your lipstick. Pressing a kiss at the side of his mouth as he whispers out a tease before you trail over to his cheek, paving a way to his chin and down his neck as his head raises, exposing more skin for your greedy lips. He grips your hips, keeping you in place as you suck a mark onto the base of his neck. A soft moan escaping between his lips before an equally greater hiss as blood continues to pour out of his side.

You take a step back, gently opening his jacket, your eyes cast upwards, through your lashes as you playfully pout. You place a palm at his inner thigh, watching as his eyes grow in size as your hand drifts just past the growing bulge in his pants- stopping slightly before the wound as you hum out thoughtfully while looking at it.

"My, my, your grace. Whatever do you have here?" You rhetorically ask before pressing your hand into the opening, listening as he hisses out, hands swiftly moving off your hips and onto your hand as they pull your touch off of him side.

"You little fucking temptress," Eddie curses out, eyes darkened as his tongue sweeps over his lips, you take a few steps back. The Duke presses himself off the wall, taking wide strides as your hands begin to sweat yet you do not break eye contact. Continuing to swiftly walk backwards as best you can in heels before tripping over a rug and falling against the back of a chair.

Eddie's arms cage you in against the chair, your breath hitching as he places his face within the crook of your neck. His facial hair tickling your skin, a soft burn forming with every word he speaks, "Now tell me, Miss. Shelby, what is it you want from me?"

You swallow. Hard. Knuckles turning white at the force you grip the chair with before trying to compose yourself, a shaky breath you exhale conceal in a moan. Pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I want you to kiss me, Eddie," you murmur, hand fixing those curls you wanted to from the start. Your fingers curl around a few strands within an instant as Eddie sucks a bruise to your neck, licking the area afterwards. "What are you here for?" he questions once more as you shake your head, wondering how far you can truly push this.

"No. That was not a proper kiss, sir. Kiss me." You state again, taking a deep breath in as victory when Eddie pulls away, eyes boring into your own, blood now tainting the band of his pants as your eyes flicker down to it. Your chin is gripped as Eddie pulls you into that proper kiss you were begging for but he pulls away too quickly as you press your lips together to hide your frown. Your cheeks were warm, hair a mess, your chest raises up and down like you had just ran a mile.

Edward appears in the same state as he stumbles back, hand gripping his side, eyes tipping down to your chest before snapping back up with a cold look- you needed to answer, couldn't have your signature bleeding out before he could sign.

"I need you out of my bettings, your grace," you breathily state, hand placed on your chest as you feel your heart-rate still bumping fast. You take deeper intakes of air, feeling for your heart starting to slow as you watch Eddie crunch over, blood-loss starting to make him go dizzy.

You swiftly stand and hobble towards the desk, finding a first aid kit in one of the lower drawers as you unknowingly bend down in front of Eddie as he curses you out once more, you look back, murmuring an apology before standing up straight and beginning to make work of his clothes, jacket off, tie discarded and shirt unbuttoned, you pluck the remnants of the bullet out from his side.

Eddie grits his teeth together, hands curled into fists as he watches you work, your tweezers poking into his muscle. "If you would stop watching me so closely, maybe I could focus more and poke you less," you sass, looking up at his while blowing the hair out of your eye. Eddie fixes the stand behind your ear before raising his hand once more. "Well just a minute ago you were practically on your knees begging for me to look at you," Eddie responds with a smirk, you huff and maintain your work, gathering the last bits of metal before treating the area and wrapping his torso snuggly.

The Duke's blood stains your hands as you look down at them thoughtfully. The thick liquid cascades off your fingertips, falling onto your dress, marking a pair of birds. "You owe me a new dress," you say, wiping your hands with the small cloth the kit provided before taking a stand. You start to walk away before Eddie grasps your arm, you pause mid-step, feet now plated in wait.

"Thank you, Miss. Shelby. I will sign to never fix a game with your business if you promise to have a meeting with Miss. Glass and I," Edward compromises, letting go of your arm and watches as you walk towards the exit, "I don't think you are in any position to make compromises, nevertheless demands, Edward. But... I'll keep you updated on my decision," and with that you close the door softly behind yourself for him to get dressed. Pressing your forehead to the wooden surface, you grip your hands into fists before settling your head up high as you descend the stairs and move towards the coat room. You sneak your keys and coat before slipping out the side door and walk towards your car.

A series of hastened footsteps against the gravel have you rolling down the window to your Range Rover, foot on the brake, hands on the wheel- ready to make haste. You do your best not to be surprised when the Duke's face greets you on the other side, a I know something you don't smile resting on his features as you raise a brow to it.

"We never exchanged contacts," he states to you casually, as if it were the weather. You hum out, analyzing his statement while look out the windshield before looking back at him. Light rain begins to fall as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek, "I will find you in due time, you and Miss. Glass. Have a good night, your grace." And with that, you roll up your window, and drive off underneath the moonlight.

--

You take a deep sip of your drink as Ada sits still, mouth open as you swear to be losing circulation to you hand. Pins and needles start to form at your fingertips form how tightly she holds onto your hand. "Fuck, sis. Sounds like you got him good," Ada says, barley able to conceal her smile.

Shaking your head you take a deep sip of your near melted lemonade before clearing your throat and checking for the time, it would be an hour's drive from here, you both had to leave soon. "Well even if I have managed to, 'get him good...'" you raise your hands in quotations, starting to mock even the idea of you two together yet your heart speaks otherwise, beating rapidly in your chest as you recount the feeling of his lips on yours. The small hickey on your neck still bruised as you wonder if his has healed since then.

Ada raises a brow, watching as you absent-mindedly reach up towards your mark, fingers circling around the mark as you continue to speak, "...Tommy would never allow it-"

"Fuck what Tommy thinks, he's not you. Do YOU want to see him again?" Ada cuts you off, a serious look taking over every feature, tightening into sharp lines- as if daring you to say else-wise.

You refuse to meet her eyes, looking outside to the near empty tracks, "I mean..."

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung @surazim

↳ A/N: What did you all think? I am quite happy with this being a standalone but I am willing to write a pt.2. If you have any ideas as to where it could go- send an ask, DM, or comment and I'll see what can be done further :) (i'm also taking a break soon... maybe... probably).

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Categorical (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him. 

Warnings: Smut. Oral sex (F receiving) Friends/ Academic rivals to lovers. Torturing of philosophers.

A/N: Man, translating modern texts into High Valyrian is a pain. I did my best. Also look! My first Aemond smut. For nerdy explanations, go beneath the dots. 

“No.” You laugh, placing your cup down. “You will not convince me of Archmaester Rene's superiority to Septon Immanuel.”

It's very late on the library. You are sitting cross-legged on top of the table, Aemond properly sat on a chair. If a Maester were to see you, or god forbid, a Septa, you would be scolded until their face turned red. 

You shouldn't be here. Not in the library or alone with him, either. A loud feast is going on outside, to celebrate Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. Neither of you wanted to stay for longer than was strictly required. 

It had been your idea. Noticing how pent-up the Prince was becoming, you had offered to come here in the hopes of letting him blow off some steam in a constructive way. If you had been taught how to handle a sword, you would have invited him to the courtyard. But you had been born a woman near Oldtown. Words were your preferred weapons. 

“Rene shaped his era!” Aemond protests, brandishing the Second Meditation in his hand. “Without him, Immanuel would be nothing.” 

You scoff. Here he goes again. One would think, for such a devout man, he would be kinder to the Septon’s views on philosophy.

“That's a bit much. Did Prince Aegon spike your drink?” 

Aemond and you… It was a weird thing. As the daughter of a member of the small council, you had been brought to King’s Landing to foster alongside Princess Helaena. But as a girl from The Reach, you had little interest in embroidery and chasing bugs. No, you were more interested in learning politics and new languages. It meant that you were closer to her brother than her. 

At first, both of you had been hesitant to break out of your roles, but soon, having someone who was as passionate as you were about learning turned seductive. Sometimes, too seductive. 

“Perhaps you are right.” The Prince laughs, and you let your expression turn hopeful for a second. Had you finally defeated Aemond in an argument? You could actually dance from happiness because the man was as stubborn as they came.  "Only on being a bit much. Because while that might have been exaggerated, you know I am right about any Maester being superior to the Septons in terms of exploration of philosophical themes. Septons stray into ethics too much, and do not solve the truly important questions.” 

“And what is exactly wrong with ethics?” You frown. You have dedicated yourself to the pursuits of understanding how a rational human being behaves in society. It's interesting, as an overthinker. Obsessing over the existence of a universal way of doing the right thing occupies most of your days. 

How different would life be, if there was a universal guideline to follow and have things always turn right? How easier, if you knew how to get the best outcome, each time?

“Nothing, I guess. If you like ethics, I am willing to indulge you. But Immanuel?”  Aemond shakes his head, sliding the book to a corner of the table. It’s opened in the middle of one of the passages, one you know well.

One you hate well, too. A thing that thinks. A thing that doubts. Cogito ergo sum. You were not sold on the idea of reality being the product of a particularly malicious demon, but it was on-brand for Aemond. To you, instead, it ended up reading more like the ramblings of a madman. 

“What’s wrong with him? His work is revolutionary!” And it is true. You are not exaggerating. No one else has done such a thorough job of explaining how one should behave, and how society and laws play into our choices. 

“Who likes him, anyway? He is a nightmare.” Aemond shakes his head. 

“To your logic self, perhaps. I find him very inspiring.” You try to keep a straight face as you say it, but your lips are twitching into a smile. 

You are morally obligated to defend Immanuel's honor. He is the basis of your whole studies. But you have to admit, he is not the easiest read. Or the most interesting. The Archmaester is much more compelling in that aspect, but you would rather die than prove Aemond right. 

“You are lying through your teeth right now. What would the Septon think of that?” 

“Oh, shut up, you. It still doesn't prove your point.”  And honestly, it’s a tactic so low, it impresses you. Moral attacks? Really? You grin at Aemond and he grins back, knowing you caught him red-handed. He shrugs. 

“Do you want me to prove my point?” His hand taps on your knee.  The Prince is not meant to touch you like this, no matter how innocent. You are not supposed to be this close to a man who is not part of your family or your betrothed. Yet, he never seems to care. 

You and Aemond touch often. Always innocent touches, of course. A hand that lingers too long when passing over a quill. Lips that drink from the same cup, from the exact place your lips have left a mark. You circle each other, you chase each other. 

You marvel each time he does, at the wonderful reactions he manages to prompts from you. Heart skipping a beat, palms getting sweaty, pupils dilating. You are in love. So in love it hurts, and it tears at you, but also feels like floating and sitting on the softest clouds. 

It’s exquisite, the pain of loving. Overwhelming. Like standing in the freezing rain. Makes you feel so alive but so utterly lonely, knowing the object of your affections will never see you as you want him too. 

You are his friend. The one he can count on to discuss the latest book or the intricacies of a long forgotten society. Never a woman. 

How you long for him to look your way, just once. For his eye to linger on your lips a little too long. His hands to stray away from proper touches, towards intimate caresses. 

And it hurts, when it doesn’t happen. You clear your throat, vanish those thoughts, and plaster a smile on your face. It’s easy, pulling witty remarks out of the tip of your tongue. It always is, with him. The debate manages to be lively and profound, minds bouncing from topic to topic until you exhaust yourselves. You make each other better, sharper, smarter. 

"Of course, Prince of Arguing.” You tease, eyes crinkling at the corners. “No rhetoric. Or fallacies. Tu quoque.” 

“I don't need them. I can do it with pure empirical evidence.” Aemond taunts right back, leaning forward on his chair. It sounds strange. More charged than usual. The tension between the two of you building, rising. Suddenly, it’s not a conversation about Septon Immanuel and Archmaester Rene. 

“Oh?” 

It’s all the permission he requires. Aemond gets up, abruptly. The chair falls back with a loud clatter. Neither of you pay it any attention. 

“Look me in the eye.” He says, stepping closer. Your breath hitches at the proximity, but you decide there is nothing wrong with indulging him. The library is empty and no one will look for either of you. “Iksā iā run bona iotāpagon.” 

You arch an eyebrow. Of course, he picks the one language you have yet to be able to master. 

“Valyrian. How fancy.” 

Aemond ignores you. You have no choice but to look up at him, with the way he is looming over you. This close, you can see his pupils are blown, and he looks slightly nervous. Does he think you are a dragon, perhaps, that he is speaking High Valyrian in such a soothing tone? You are about to make that joke, but it dies in your throat when he gets even closer, nose nearly bumping against yours. 

"Bona umbagon, bona vestras kessa, bona vestras daor.” He mutters, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You tilt your head up, like a flower moving to follow her sun. Whatever he is saying, you don’t know, but you recognize the words for yes and no. You do not dare speak, afraid of breaking whatever is finally building up between the two of you. 

So many months spent playing cat and mouse, so many months making him give chase. Queen Alicent gushing about how good you would look together, how much she wants another daughter. Nights spent in the library, arguing just for the sake of it. 

It doesn’t feel like a game, anymore. 

Aemond leans forward, pupil dilated and dark. “Bona gīmissiks byka.” His nose bumps against yours. Your pulse accelerates. To jump or not to jump? His eye goes from yours, to your lips. You watch the slight smug quirk of that smart mouth you love so. It’s then when you get a hold of yourself. You love him too much to lose him to this if it were to go wrong. That line you don’t dare cross. You try to get off the table you are sitting on. 

Aemond grabs your arm, not forcefully, but enough to hold you in place. You could get out of it if you wanted to. 

“Bona daor gīmissiks olvie.” He whispers, carefully cupping your cheek in his hand. Helpless against him, you nuzzle his hand. Fervently, as if promising something, anything, he keeps going. “Bona ēza jorrāelagon, vēdros, ebas, daoriot ebas.” 

Jorrāelagon. Love. A confession. For your ears only, in a way that fits both of you. High Valyrian has always been the language of the arts, after all.

Unable to resist him any longer, you kiss him. Forgetting all about how you should behave, how the library is empty and that if you two get caught, your reputation would be ended. You just couldn’t wait anymore.  

You would know his voice among a thousand voices. That's why you know, even when it is a whisper, that Aemond is still speaking into the kiss, smugly. 

“Bona ēza ēdrugon, bona ēza dijāves.” 

You kiss him harder. He is quoting something against your lips, against your skin, as he presses lush and desperate kisses to the skin of your jaw. As you suck a bruise in the hollow of his throat. 

He pushes you gently to lay on the table, giving you a wicked look. When you nod, Aemond hikes up your skirts, exposing your legs and lower stomach. 

“And to think we could have been doing this for so long.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your belly button, smiling as you squirm desperately. 

“Quoting things in High Valyrian?” You ask, unable to not tease him. 

“That, too.” He laughs. “If you knew it, you would have figured out it was Rene's Second Meditation.” 

You laugh, soon melting into a moan when he starts nibbling at your thighs. 

“I’m not sold on his superiority, yet.”

“Trust me, my Lady.” Aemond grins. “When I am finished, you will be singing his praises.” 

“Aemond…” You say, suddenly apprehensive. Despite trusting him, you are a smart and educated woman. You know that even a hint of doubt could ruin your reputation. And while you would gladly give your maidenhead to him, you do not feel comfortable enough to enjoy it. “I… We are not married.” 

“I know.” He says, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “I’m not that kind of man.” 

“What are you doing, then?” You push yourself up on your elbows, to be able to look at him. Aemond remains crouched between your legs, busy with sucking a bruise on the juncture between thigh and hip. 

“Finally, a subject where I am more knowledgeable than you.”  The Prince smirks, before licking over your hole. You bite your lower lip to keep quiet, trying to stay still on the table. 

“My Prince…” You whine. It’s a strange feeling, but a pleasurable one. His mouth is scorching hot over your sex, and his tongue is doing things that you are pretty sure are considered a sin by the Faith of the Seven. A shame you were never very religious. 

You cannot think straight, with the way his tongue is lazily playing with your pearl. You try to be polite about it, but the moans leave your mouth unabashedly. If it were not for the feast happening outside, the whole Red Keep would hear your moans. You hope the music is enough to drown it. For your sake and his. 

“Ah, weren’t you the most eloquent Lady in The Reach? Finish your sentence.” Aemond mocks, pulling back. It doesn’t make any sense to you, your line of thought long-lost to the pleasure he is delivering you. Unashamedly, you try to grind your hips against his face, but Aemond just tuts. “Use your words.” His voice is filled with the same smugness as when he beats Ser Criston on the training yard, or manages to make you change your mind on a subject. 

The respite lets you think. Without him assaulting your senses, you try to recall what it was that you two were discussing. Knowledge. Aemond had been saying he had more knowledge than you about something, and his phrasing had been ambiguous. You had been about to ask him what he meant. 

“I meant to…” He swirls his tongue around your pearl, making you cut off your question, again. He keeps at it, making your voice turn shaky. You cannot think straight, or speak without moaning. Not with the way his tongue presses at your entrance, not with how he keeps torturing your poor pearl. The bud throbs and feels swollen, and you can tell he is taking advantage of it. “Ask. I was going to… Prince Aemond!” 

“What?” Aemond sits back on his heels, perching his chin on your thigh. Caressly, he takes off the eye patch. You respectfully don’t look.  You know it’s not because he trusts you, or because he wants you to see it. It’s because he is about to dive right in between your thighs and with how wet you are, the garment would get soaked. And it would show. You know your body well enough to know that your juices would stain the dark leather. 

Eventually, the night will come to an end and you two would have to return to your separate chambers through hallways full of people. If the Prince were to walk back with a stained eye patch, tongues would talk. More so, when your absence was noted. Half the Red Keep knows already how much time you spend together. He would not risk the stain on your reputation or on his. If it were found out you two were partaken in such deviant acts, both of you would be shunned. 

So, keeping your eyes firmly on the ceiling to not embarrass him or force him to share something he is not ready for yet, you speak. 

“I can’t speak with your mouth doing… Doing… That!” 

Your cheeks burn. You are unsure how to name the act, and if perhaps you got over your shyness, you would ask him. 

Aemond's response is clipped. Irritated. 

“You should have thought about it before denying us for so long. Keep arguing. Or I’ll stop.”  And it’s not your fault, really. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose. On the contrary. So focused on your feelings of admiration towards the Prince, you had been blind to his. You had never thought your love was reciprocated, and so were set on stomping on it until nothing but friendship and camaraderie remained. 

Never would you have thought him angry at your constant shying away. The thought makes butterflies surge in your stomach. The fact that Aemond wants you so much that he is angry at the thought of not having you sooner has you weak at the knees. 

Aemond takes your pearl between his lips, once more. He is careful, so the pleasure only edges to uncomfortable. You whine. He pulls away. You scream out on betrayal, before remembering exactly what Aemond asked you to. 

“I meant… Ask if you meant you knew…” And back at it, he goes, this time rewarding you by licking a path from your hole towards your pearl. “Ah! More than me in…” 

Too lost in your pleasure, you grab a handful of his hair, bucking your hips on his face. At this angle, Aemond’s nose rubs you just right, and you find yourself chasing the friction. 

“Go on. I quite enjoy where this is heading.” He snickers, the vibrations doing wonders to make you lose your line of thought even more. But the threat of him stopping the wonderful, wonderful things he is doing is enough for you to rack your brain for anything to say. 

“Knew more about matters of the flesh or if you meant… Aemond, Aemond, stop it! I can’t think.” You beg, on the verge of tears. Just as you are speaking, he starts sucking hard on your pearl. You have never, in your life, been as frustrated. It’s impossible to do his bidding when he is torturing you. Aemond has set you up for an impossible task. You would rather have the feeling stop than have to endure it a bit longer. Your body trembles, shaking and writing on the table. “High Valyrian!” 

“Both. A few times.” Aemond answers, and you mumble back something incoherent. You are near something, a cusp of pleasure so intense you fear you might shatter from the force of it. You scream, shrill and high, feeling your body absolutely gush at his ministrations. 

As you pant down from your high, Aemond tenderly fixes your skirts. He smooths your dress down, making sure there are no creases or suspicious stains. Completely at ease, as if he was not making you reach a peak that had your legs shaking mere moments ago, Aemond puts back on his eye patch. 

You remain laying on the table, flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He gives you a mischievous look, and leans down to kiss you. 

“Will you teach me, my Prince?” You ask, when you two part. It comes out more eager than you would have wanted, but you don’t care. You are not afraid anymore of showing how head over heels you are for him. And in the typical fashion of Targaryen men, Aemond seems to delight in the attention. 

“Trust me. I intend to.” He pulls you to a sitting position. Still shaky, you cling to him. Aemond keeps grooming you, fixing your hair and tugging at your sleeves. You rest your head against his breastbone. 

“Long engagement?” 

“Short. I would marry you tomorrow, were I able to.” He answers, as he fixes a button that had come undone in all your trashing. Then, he grabs the Second Meditation and presses it into your hand. “So?” 

“Yes. You win. Archmaester Rene is superior to Septon Immanuel.” 

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Credits: 

The ideas that Aemond and the reader are discussing belong, of course, to Kant and Descartes. The Second Meditation of Descartes as a prelude to sex was my sexual awakening, during a philosophy class at like… I don’t know. Sixteen? There is this show our philosophy teacher showed us, where a philosophy teacher is the main character.  Merlí. In the first episode, the Philosophy teacher seduces the English teacher by reciting the Second Meditation in the original French.  As the years passed, and I too entered my love and hate philosophy phase, I never lost that memory.  I really wanted to write something with it, and my Aemond’s fics tend to be more artsy. 

Also, forgive me for using philosophy from the 1500 - 1600 AC. I just can’t find it in myself to make the debate on how many angels can dance on a pinhead fascinating (That one would be period, although not Westeros, accurate) Hm. I should have gone for Aquino, maybe. 

[mariacallous]

At the end of January, clips from a film about the housing market in Russian-occupied Mariupol began circulating on TikTok and X (formerly Twitter). After the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Russian army held Mariupol under siege for 85 days, all the while relentlessly pummeling the city with missile and air strikes. Mariupol was effectively reduced to rubble, and no one knows how many lives were lost — though some estimates place the number as high as 100,000. As soon as the Russian authorities had captured the city, they set about rebuilding it and erasing any trace of war crimes.

The film, titled “Shocking Prices for Apartments in Mariupol — Millions for Ruins” was released in November on the YouTube channel “Mirnyie” (the plural form of “peaceful” in Russian and the first part of “peaceful inhabitants,” a Russian term used to distinguish non-combatants from military personnel in conflict zones). The Mirnyie project is led by “war correspondent” Regina Orekhova, a journalist from the Russian state news agency RIA Novosti. In 2022, she received a special award from the Russian Union of Journalists for “courage in fulfilling journalistic duty.”

The Mirnyie project, as one might surmise from its name, explores the lives of ordinary people in the conflict zone. “These are the stories of people who found themselves caught in the crossfire — some left, while others stayed. [We share] their experiences, how they survive, and what they think about,” reads the description. Judging by the channel, Orekhova primarily works in Mariupol. Previous reports of hers cover topics such as Azovstal’s underground tunnels, the sea port, city maternity hospitals, and the drama theater, which was destroyed by a Russian airstrike while an estimated 1,000 civilians were sheltering there.

In the introduction to the half-hour film, Orekhova promises to answer the following questions: “How do you buy an apartment in Mariupol? Is it more profitable to invest in ‘ruins’ that you can resell once renovated? How do you rent commercial space for a business here and how much does it cost? What kinds of apartments are for sale and what determines the price?” Orekhova explains that in Mariupol, there are “damaged buildings” as well as “brand new and renovated ones.” “The real estate market is very unconventional. We’ve studied it in detail and we’ll tell you all about it,” she promises. 

Orekhova speaks with three local realtors who show her properties for sale in different parts of the city. As it turns out, these are mostly half-destroyed apartments, hastily abandoned by residents who left all their personal belongings behind as they fled. However, even such properties, according to the realtors, are in high demand. In some cases, actual ruins, where just parts of the walls survived the bombings, are for sale. However, Russian construction companies will restore these buildings later for free, which significantly increases prices. There’s also the rare property untouched by war, or newly renovated apartments in restored buildings. Prices for these range from four to six million rubles (about $50,000-$66,000). Apartments in historic Stalin-era buildings in the center of Mariupol with surviving inner courtyards (i.e., enclosed parking), renovated entrances, and sea views are considered premium housing.

The film doesn’t explain why or, more importantly, by whom all the housing in Mariupol was destroyed. Realtors talk evasively about “all those events” or “military actions.” Orekhova asks how many real estate agencies are currently operating in Mariupol. “Well, there aren’t many surviving citizens per square meter, you could say, but they exist, of course,” a realtor answers.

Showing a damaged three-room apartment in the center of Mariupol, real estate agent Natalia remarks that “one shouldn’t focus on the consequences of what happened to the apartment but on the apartment’s potential.” There’s no electricity, the ceiling is leaking, and personal belongings, including toys and a highchair, lie strewn about — but the windows have been replaced. Natalia points out the “magnificent view” from the balcony. “These buildings have survived more than one war and, as you can see, are still standing,” Natalia says encouragingly. According to her, it would be too painful for the previous owners to come back and see their home like this, which is why they’re looking to sell the apartment in its current condition.

The realtors say that apartments are mostly bought by newcomers “from big Russia” and bemoan that locals can’t afford newly constructed housing. According to them, Russian authorities introduced a special two percent mortgage rate for people from the self-proclaimed “Donetsk People’s Republic” and “Luhansk People’s Republic” who have Russian citizenship. But locals can’t get approved because most aren’t officially employed — there are no jobs with decent salaries in Mariupol.

Luisa, the head of a real estate management company, explains that it’s virtually impossible for Mariupol residents to get an apartment without Russia’s help. She says they “can’t afford to buy back their old homes in Mariupol or to purchase new ones.” When new construction is put up where their destroyed homes used to be, the mortgage payments are out of reach. Luisa recalls how an apartment building in the center, leveled in the bombings, was cleared away to make room for new construction. Residents were offered housing somewhere on the outskirts as compensation, but they weren’t able to buy apartments in the new building being built on their property, even though they’re legally registered at the address.

Tatiana, another realtor, thinks everything in Mariupol is “getting back on track.” She says people are returning, “even those who didn’t plan to.” “The demand [for apartments] is very high, much higher than the supply,” Tatiana explains. “If an apartment is in poor condition but at a good price, it goes quickly. The interested buyers are mainly newcomers. People from Siberia are also eyeing our seaside breeze.”

Tatiana tells Orekhova that everything is “looking up” for the city:

Mariupol has never experienced such rapid growth. The city is developing before our eyes. It’s happening in such a way that even we don’t know where things will improve tomorrow, where slums will turn into upscale neighborhoods. Because our sky is blue. When I say this, everyone smiles, actually. But before, our sky used to be gray or brown, never blue. And now life is getting better; every cloud has a silver lining. You just don’t want to remember the military operations; you go numb. But when you see what’s happening in Mariupol — everything will be fine, everything will work out.

[onegirlatelier]

Floral vest | November, 2023

This vest is a Frankenstein of two patterns—the construction is from the Ophelia Slipover by Toshiyuki Shimada 嶋田俊之and the floral pattern from the Flower Yoke Pullover by Erika Tokai 東海えりか (@erika_tokai on Instagram). Both patterns are listed on Ravelry but only available in printed books.

Now, it is not my genius idea to piece these two together. I think it was first done by a fellow Chinese knitter and designer, who is XS KNITTING on RED and XS_KNITTING on Wechat. I have both pattern books but she did provide very detailed instructions on how to combine the two patterns for this vest. I mostly followed her notes – see modifications below.

Overview of the construction

Make a provisional cast on with a waste yarn.

Knit colourwork in the round from bottom up, ending at approx. underarm level. Decrease on the sides as instructed. You will later steek the fabric at the sides so the pattern includes the additional allowance for steeking.

Knit the front and back yoke sections flat, following the instructions for neck and shoulder shaping. (There is no armhole shaping in the yoke part.)

Sew together the front and back yoke parts, pick up stitches to make the neckband.

Reinforce the steek and cut. Pick up stitches from the steeked edges to make the side bands. Sew the bottom bit of the side bands together.

Pick up stitches to make the hem.

Needles

(all 80cm circulars)

Colourwork: 3.00mm

Yoke: 2.75mm

Neckband: 2.75mm, bind off with 2.5mm

Side bands: 2.5mm, bind off with 2.25mm

Hem: 2.75mm, bind off with 2.5mm

Yarn

Biches & Bûches Le Petit Lambswool 248m/50g, in white and light pink. This is a 2-ply woolen spun, slightly rustic but soft yarn. It softens even more after washing and blooms too, making an incredibly light but hearty fabric. I always thought it was produced in Europe since this is a French brand, but the Lambswool range is actually spun and dyed in Scotland. Hence it is a little less local than I thought (and their website doesn’t say where the wool material comes from), but I’m also happy to support Scottish mills that produce less chemically treated yarns in small batches.

Another nice thing is that each of my skeins/balls actually weighed 55g, so there was a little surplus than what I paid for.

Yardage

I took detailed measurements just in case you (or future me) are worried about having enough yarn, or thinking about doing differently coloured bands, etc.

As can be seen, the bands and hem take up quite a bit of yardage.

Modifications

Colourwork

I think I followed the instructions entirely for the colourwork.

Yoke

I knitted one more row at the bottom of the front and back yokes respectively, because I somehow started from the wrong side and the pattern started from the right side. The shoulder seams are done with Kitchener stitch instead of a three-needle bind-off. Therefore I think I had about 104 rows in the yoke instead of 100 in the pattern, which means I picked up 84 stitches instead of 80 for the side band at the yoke section.

First block and felting

After I finished the yoke, the colourwork looked rather uneven. Since the yarn I used was thinner than the Shetland yarn in the pattern and I knitted the colourwork loosely to match the instructed gauge, the fabric was also quite loose and not as supple as I wanted. The good thing is that the finished garment (using the required gauge) had quite a lot of positive ease for my body measurements. So I decided to shrink the garment slightly by hand-felting it.

To felt a wool garment, you need one or more of the following: high temperature, moisture, agitation, soap. Here’s what I did to felt it as gently as possible. The half-finished main body had no live stitches at this point so I just soaked it in icy cold water as how you would normally block a knitted garment, but without soap. Then I just use my hands to agitate the fabric until I felt that it had first evened out and then tightened up. Trust me, without hot water or soap you need quite a lot of agitation to felt a garment—not just swishing it around.

I’ve also seen people putting their work into a pillow case into the washing machine on a hot drying cycle and stopping every few minutes to check if it’s felted enough. I have no confidence in operating my washing machine but you can try.

The result was satisfactory enough for me to go ahead.

Neckband

Neckband was finished with a tubular bind off with two rows, i.e. one pair, of reinforcement (the ‘tubular’ bit’). To do this, you would first use a slightly smaller needle to switch the ribbing from 2*2 to 1*1 as you knit across (see Suzanne Bryant’s video). I used a needle one size smaller but I think I could’ve gone down two sizes, as the finished neckband feels a little too loose.

Side bands

I reinforced the fabric using the crochet method and then steeked it. Some people recommend the hook to be one size smaller than the knitting needles, but I used a 1.5mm and it worked well for me. It;s absolutely possible to steek with an even number of stitches (many tutorials say you can only do an odd number of stitches).

Using a 2.5mm circular I picked up stitch for stitch for the colourwork and 84 for 104 for the yoke. One stitch is added at either ends. There was no stitch decrease after picking up. I finished with Italian bind off which is another kind of invisible bind off like tubular bind off, just without the ‘tubular’ bit.

To do this: On the 15th row (wrong side), I knitted the first 35 sts (which were not bound off) using the 2.5mm needle in 2*2 ribbing. Then I switched to 2.25mm and switched the ribbing to 1*1 as I knitted across, and finished by knitting the last 35 sts using the 2.5mm needle again in 2*2 ribbing. On the 16th row (right side), I knitted the first 35sts in the 2.5mm needle and 2*2 ribbing as usual. Then I adjusted how I held the project so that I could pull the working yarn to the opposite side (front/back side) of the garment and start the sewn bind off from the wrong side.

It is absolutely not necessary to do all this. Some people make a very simple knitted bind off. This is purely because I want an invisible bid off and the ribbing pattern made it easier to do it this way. Also see illustration.

Then I Kitchener-stitched the 2*2 ribbing to make the side seam.

Hem

I took out the provisional cast on and transfer sts to a 2.75mm needle. My side bands were slightly wider than instructed so I picked up more side stitches for the hem too. 336 sts I think. I did 2*2 ribbing and finished with a tubular bind-off with four rows, i.e. two pairs, of reinforcement.

And that's it! I'm really pleased about this little vest and might make more in different colour schemes in future.

[femmefatalevibe]

what advice do you have for building a classy, dark energy, femme wardrobe on a budget?

I LOVE these expensive brands I see (YSL, Balenciaga, Jimmy Choo, etc.) but I'm trying to save money for more important things right now.

(plus I can't afford lots of super high end brands on a regular basis, as I'm sure most of us can't lol).

How can I "find dupes" for lack of a better term for these bougie brands I love, or what tips do you have for looking classy and highend on a budget (fashion wise anyway)?

Thanks xoxo

Hi love! I would say the main thing to do is pay attention to fabrics and stitching of garments.

Overall construction matters considerably more than the name on the tag when it comes to building a "high-end" wardrobe. Some fabrics to look for include: 100% cashmere, Pima/Supima cotton/organic cotton, merino wool, genuine leather, and/mulberry silk.

Pay attention to the stitching/buttons or accents on garments. Make sure there are no gaps or loose threads. Look for lined or double-lined items. Darker garments tend to look more expensive. Stick to neutral colors and classic silhouettes for a more "elevated" look.

Some more "affordable" brands (in the mostly $100-$300 range) I love include:

The Frankie Shop

Pixie Market

Massimo Dutti

Manière De Voir

Lilysilk

Reformation

Naadam

Sézane

GAP

Express (for bodysuits/trousers)

Banana Republic

Everlane (the Supima basic tops are great for the price)

Personally, my favorite way to save money on high-end clothes is to use sites like TheOutnet or YOOX and shop the sales sections of designer retailers like Farfetch, Luisa Via Roma, Saks, FWRD, etc. to get the same quality of clothing for less.

Hope this helps xx

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[octuscle]

Hey im really confused and need some help from suport.

So im a male actor/ model and things have been really tough in the industry lately with the strikes and all so i was over the moon when a clothing brand reached out to me. But the wierd thing is this brand does not really catter to ny estetic. I usualy get jobs from high end luxury brands, but this company is a street wear blue collar clothing brand. I went to a meeting and gave me a out fit of a thick t-shirt, carpenters jeans, a flannle shirt, work boots, and a jock strap. All of them a size or more to bog for me. They also gave me a dinged up old cell phone. Then then told me to get comferable in thecloths and show up to the abandand site the next morning at the crack of dawn for the shoot. Im feeling realky weird and hungeryer then i ever been in my life. Please help.

The bag with the clothes for the photo shoot is in the trunk of your VW Beetle overnight. Cute little car. It's already got a few years under its belt. But still drives well. And that's all you can afford at the moment. You also need the money from this job. Otherwise you'll have to part with this car too. That's why you're so excited about the job. You're not sleeping very well. And normally you would go for an hour's run after getting up. But today you're hungry after a restless night. A huge appetite. You make yourself a large portion of scrambled eggs and bacon. You didn't even know you had so many eggs in the house. Yeah, that was good. Now the day can begin. You put on a white button-down shirt, plain Calvin Klein jeans and white sneakers and walk to your car at 05:00 in the morning. Yes, the Mustang is a bit rusty. But it's a classic. It suits you. It makes you feel a bit like James Dean.

Shit, you've left your iPhone in the apartment. But there's still the old Cat phone in the bag with the clothes. You type in the address and turn on the speaker. Looking at your hands, you're annoyed that you haven't had a manicure. You have hands like a construction worker.

One disadvantage of your Mustang is that it consumes an incredible amount of gas. You have to refuel halfway to the photo shoot. And take a shit. Hehehe, if you eat a lot in the morning, you have to shit a lot. And you're hungry again. It's almost 07:00 already. So you fill up at the next service station and then eat a burger with a large portion of fries. Your white T-shirt has a few ketchup stains and slips out of your old 501 over your belly, but now you feel good again. Your cell phone says there are only 50 miles to go. A stone's throw for your mighty pickup. The only thing you need before you arrive on the set of the shoot are cigars. Fuck, you left yours at home too. Luckily, you pass a tobacconist's just before you leave for the abandoned industrial site. The photo shoot is scheduled for two days, so ten cigars should be enough.

You are a star model in the workwear scene. You're actually a crane operator, but you can always use a little extra money. Besides, there's usually a lot to fuck on the set of the shoots. Photographers, marketing hipsters and the effeminate professional models love your huge cock. Your cigar is tiny in comparison.

[louisa-gc]

de-influencing you

from someone who gets overwhelmed any time she opens a social media application.

expensive cosmetics. keep it simple and stick to skincare, makeup and hair products you know and trust. i've tried it all from salon shampoos and high-end concealers to ridiculously priced face oils and praised nail polishes, only to realise my favourites are the affordable drugstore products i can easily repurchase. it's the ingredients that matter, not the prestige or popularity of a brand or the amount of products in your routine.

new clothes. of course you can and should replace your holey socks and the jeans you've grown out of, but i'm certain most of us have more clothes than we need. what if we tried to use up (and, when possible, mend) our existing pieces instead of getting new trousers and sneakers just because there's now a trendier option out there?

dietary supplements. unless you have a deficiency and have been told by a healthcare professional to take a supplement, you probably don't need one. with a healthy, varied diet, you can skip all those green powders, probiotics and multivitamins, that weirdly enough have become part of some internet aesthetics. if, however, you do need to supplement (as i need to with iron), make sure you know what is in the product you're buying and how it works best — iron, for example, should be taken on an empty stomach and with vitamin c.

internet aesthetics. your style, your whole lifestyle, doesn't need to fit an "aesthetic". it's tiresome to try and classify your tastes and attempt to stuff them into the narrow confines of these artificial ideals. do things you enjoy, decorate and dress according to what appeals to your eye and forget about the rest.

regular beauty treatments. if your skin is healthy, a normal at-home skincare routine should be enough to make sure your face is glowing. a (fake) tan, hair removal and manicured nails aren't and shouldn't be necessities either, but if your beauty routines are important to you, just do the things at home and save your resources for more valuable pursuits than the ever-expanding requirements of modern womanhood.

cosmetic injections or surgeries. i've always been of the opinion that we should all be allowed to do as we please with our bodies, without shame or judgement from others. however, the more i learn about the risks of cosmetics procedures and the rates of patients' dissatisfaction with their results, the more negatively i've started to view it all. with more and more people walking around with filler, botox and surgically enchanced or erased features, i worry about our ability to accept ourselves as we are. i worry about the class divide these procedures are creating (who can afford it at all? who can afford a good result?) and i worry about people spending massive amounts of money and time on what are essentially unnecessary health risks. so i say: don't do it.

anything designer. as we all know, price and quality don't always go hand in hand. while i'm all for choosing great quality lasting products, popular designer brands might not necessarily be the way to go. people haven't ditched designer goods just because the go-to style is now "old money"; they've just moved from gucci to céline. i personally don't think any designer brand is really worth it, but wherever you buy, at least pay attention to materials and construction, and stay away from counterfeit goods.

trying to look "expensive". while i have always had a more classic style and was raised never to show logos ("you're not a free advertisement, dear"), i find the "looking expensive" thing such a strange trend, one that returns whenever times are financially unstable. even though i wholeheartedly approve of buying timeless quality pieces (if that is a style you actually enjoy), i don't think anyone should do so in order to look wealthy. nobody will think you're the trust fund offspring of a centuries-old family if you aren't, and most of all, nobody really cares whether you are one or not. the thing is, you really cannot tell whether someone is wealthy based on their looks, so why spend time and money trying to look the part?

clothes that don't fit your lifestyle. it's difficult to resist cute athleisure, but as someone who only wears workout clothes to actually exercise three times a week, i know i only need two or three sets. buy pieces that fit your everyday life, not the life you wish you had. no amount of cocktail dresses will make your life a flurry of parties, if these events are already few and far between.

most stationery products. i love stationery as much as the next person: i love a good notebook, beautiful pens and all the related little knick-knacks, but frankly, i only use one mechanical pencil, a specific type of black gel pens, and three notebooks at a time. no matter how cute some highlighters, letter papers or pastel page markers may be, i have zero reason to buy them.

trending books. i know this might be a controversial one, but buying piles of books on the recommendation of social media influencers isn't a smart use of space and money. just last year i got myself half a dozen popular titles from a cute bookshop, but ended up regretting the purchases because i only liked one of them. borrow the trendy new books from your local public library, and if you really want to collect books, only buy ones that you really love.

[whispering-radiance]

| Glow of amber | Chapter [#1]

Word count: [ ~2890 ]

Hello everybody! This is the first story that I’m actually showing to people — so I’m a bit nervous … Although I feel confident about my English, it’s not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors along the way.

I’ve made a post explaining this AU some time ago, you can give it a read if you want to, but I will explain everything in the story eventually.

With that being said, I invite you below

The corridors of Norrisville high were unusually quiet. There was no soul around, not even a single student running late for their classes. Janitor had already done his round around the school, mopping the floor and sweeping dust bunnies under the lockers. Halls remained empty for most of the day, not unless a teacher had to rush to the building to file some important documents or to prepare materials for another school year.

While the other parts of school slumbered, the main hall brimmed with life. As usual, a great Ninja battle had left a great damage on the property, and this time, the repair team was tasked with fixing a considerably huge hole in the wall. But since the school year was ending, there wasn’t a need to do it immediately, so all of the heavy work was left for the vacation period. 

As careful as they wanted to be, they unfortunately caused some small, additional “scratches”. Cement was splattered on few lockers, a bucket of paint rolled all over the floor, a new guy made some mistakes while reading the blueprints and connected water pipes into one big circle, and heavy machines were dragged across the most beautiful thing in the Norrisville highschool, a carp mosaic decorated by strange, yellow gem.

School itself didn’t have anything precious to guard, but the business responsible for the construction team and equipment demanded to hire someone to protect the expensive materials.

It was a bright night and a full moon decorated the sky.

“It’s just you and me, buddy!” A night guard shook his flashlight and locked the back door. He also pinned a card with “Jeremy” written on it.  “Maybe they don’t pay much but after tonight we’ll be able to afford a brand new keyboard!”

He kept talking with his trusty flashlight as he walked down the hallway. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he made sure to bang on every locker to check for hidden intruders, but he found nothing. Maybe it was for the better, even if it meant the rest of the night being extremely boring.

The sound of his own footsteps was creeping him out. He wished he could at least turn on the big lights and get rid of the uncomfortable darkness, but due to safety and financial reasons, power was cut off for the night.

“Ughhh! This stinks!” He moved his light around him.”I know I’ve said that I’m over my fear of the dark but… Jeez… I will go insane before this shift ends.”

Jeremy glanced at his flashlight again.

“I heard that this school has a glass ceiling” He shook it and made a squeaky voice. “It’s in the main hall! And you know what else is in there? Equipment we have to keep an eye on! How about we just go in there and enjoy our shift under the bright moonlight?”

“Oh buddy!” He smiled. “You always have the best ideas!”

Thanks to the gentle rays of the moon, the Main lobby looked enchanted, despite it being a construction site.  Heavy machines and bags of cement were covered by large blankets, and the hole in the wall was well secured. The whole room seemed very inviting, yet something felt weird. The giant mosaic of golden carp was beautiful, but bathed in moonlight it gave off an eerie energy. Jeremy agreed with his trusty flashlight that they should avoid getting closer to it.

After doing the necessary check up, he lied down on the floor and leaned against a pillar.

“Everything is where it’s supposed to be…Nothing was stolen… no intruders…” He yawned. “Darkness was terrifying but besides that…– Well I didn’t expect this job to be this boring”

His eyelids felt heavy.

“What if I just… take a quick nap…?” He looked around the room one last time.”If there’s no boss around then you can do what you want.”

After just a few minutes, he was drooling on the floor.

“I’ve been stuck here for far too long…”

 A husky voice echoed in his ears. Jeremy’s eyes were quick to open. He didn’t know what he was seeing, but one thing was sure, he wasn’t in the lobby anymore. The amber sky seemed to be stretching for miles. Whatever he was standing on didn’t feel right, on the one hand it was slippery like glass, but at the same time it felt sticky, like if it wanted to trap him.

Jeremy looked around, he wasn’t alone, but he couldn't locate the person he had just heard.   

“I’m alone— All alone!” The voice cried loudly. “What’s the point of keeping me here anymore?! The Sorcerer is gone after all…”

A gigantic shadow of a bird flew just above Jeremy’s head.

“But it’s not about the sorcerer!” Huge bird landed and laughed to itself. “It’s because he hates me. Oh, he wants me here for all eternity!.. To hell with him!”

Demonic creature hit the floor with all its rage. This was enough to make Jeremy fall down and scream out of fear. As he was laying on the floor, slowly sticking more and more, he expected to wake up at any moment. He heard another hellish screech and sound of sharp talons getting closer very quickly.

Jeremy opened his eyes, hoping that he would see the familiar moonlight. But instead he was greeted by a pair of glowing, red eyes analyzing his every movement. The head of the creature was just a skull of a bird with a few blue markings that resembled a warpaint. The bird demon was smiling, sending chills down Jeremy’s spine.

“A visitor…” Its voice echoed through his head. “Tsch, not anyone I know…– How bothersome.”

“I.. I am… I…” Night guard was squeaking like a mouse.”I’m Jeremy! Just a simple guard!”

“I didn’t ask! And frankly I’m not interested in hearing about your pitiful life!” The demon screamed and threw Jeremy back. “I hate humans. You always think of yourself as heroes! Think that your lives are somehow more important than other beings!”

“I don’t consider myself a hero…” He tried to stand up. “I’m nothing compared to our town's savior, the Ninja!”

Creature went silent, and so did the boy. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, everything felt so real that he started questioning if it really was a dream. Bird demon approached him in silence.

“Ah… so he’s a hero.” Its last word came out with a lot of bitterness. “Yes… Hm, yes, it was very heroic of him to slit my throat with his blade, disrespect my body by ripping away my feathers… and then trap my spirit here! Who you call a hero is nothing more than a filthy murderer.”

Jeremy stood confused. 

“From what you’ve said… It sounds like… well… you don’t paint ninja in a good light” He tried pinching himself in order to escape this dream. “I don’t think he would have done all that without a good reason.”

The black shadow of a bird turned into flames, and from them it reformed itself in a much different shape. No longer was it a monster looking down at him, but simply a man. His body was translucent and colored like a bright ember. He was wearing damaged samurai armor, wings dragged behind him like a cape, and in his hand he held a broken blade. His gaze was intense and drilling, but not as wild as in his bird form.

“Did I say something wrong!?” Jeremy was trembling. “I am terribly sorry! I… I know nothing about the ninja… but… I thought he’s an honorable guy!”

“I think this whole conversation started on a wrong note.” Warrior dropped his blade.”Don’t think I’ve changed my mind about humans— my hatred runs deep. But since you’re already here, I think you deserve to learn a few things about your hero.”

“Well… I don’t want to take your time!” He shook his head.”Maybe you can just— wake me up! And I won’t be bothering you anymore!”

The spirit tried his best to give a sincere looking smile.

“You’ll miss out on some valuable knowledge.” He shrugged. “You know, in the past people would do anything to have such a conversation.”

Night guard took a deep breath.

“Then if I may ask… who are you?”

“I’m glad you asked.” His chuckle sounded a bit forced.”People used to call me a Tengu— a bird spirit. I was the greatest swordsman in the land, and a noble one as well. I never declined a duel, not even to a human. I always fought with honor.”

“Why are you here then?”

“Because of the ninja, of course!” Tengu was making circles around the scared boy. “You see, one day he challenged me to a duel. He was confident about his powers, but confidence alone isn’t enough to win. I defeated him and sent him on his way.”

“But…”

“Shhh” He put his finger up.”Some time had passed and I was sure I wouldn’t see him again. Oh but I was wrong— He was furious that I'd managed to defeat him! He came to claim his victory and he was ready to do so at any price!”

“If you’ve beaten him once— then how come you didn’t manage to win again?” Concentrating on Tengu’s story made him stop shaking.

“This time he had a friend.” He clenched his fist. “I don’t know what he had said to that goddess to make her think I was the enemy… But he was successful…He challenged me to an uneven battle. I couldn’t win against someone backed up by a heavenly power…”

Tengu gasped theatrically.

“They imprisoned me here.” He spread his arms.”In a stone they’d called “Eye of Eternities”!”

Jeremy scratched his head.

“This is confusing…” He was trying to analyze the story. “I’m having a hard time believing all this— It was hard for me to believe in ninja… and you’re spitting nonsense about spirits and gods.”

“You humans used to be more spiritual back then.” Tengu frowned. “You may want to argue with me about your beliefs, but you must believe me that it’s all real.”

“First of all, this is a dream!” Jeremy spouted. “This is just a figment of my imagination!”

“Wrong.” Tengu moved his hand towards the orange sky and after a moment it became clear like a window. “There you are. Lying unconscious on the school floor.”

“But— how— this is impossible!”

“Oh well— If you knew anything about spirits, then you’d know that you should be very careful about what you do during the full moon.” Tengu shook his head in disapproval. “For you, it might seem like a dream, but for me, it’s a very real visit.” 

The young night guard wandered lost in his thoughts. Nothing made sense. Things he considered to be just fairy tales were real this whole time. 

“Why didn’t you just attack me?” Jeremy felt like he should have asked this question earlier. 

“If I’ve attacked you, you’d simply wake up…None of us would have gotten anything out of this meeting.” 

Even though the mind of a Tengu was broken after centuries of imprisonment, he knew he should always take the opportunity when it’s there. It’s not everyday that he has a chance to speak with someone. Boy was naive, he noticed it right away. Maybe if he plays his cards right, he’ll be able to make this night interesting.

“Tell me, Jimmy…”

“It’s Jeremy, actually.” He said quietly.

“Whatever…” Tengu said under his nose.”Do you like helping others?”

“Oh I…— I… sure! Who doesn’t?” Jeremy giggled. “I’ve had many bullies during middle school and high school, but no one was kind enough to give me a helping hand…So now I help others in need!”

“Truly amazing…” He ran his hand across his face. “Would you like to help me then?”

Boy stood shocked.

“Me? Help you? But…—“

“You’ve said you help those in need, am I right?”

“Jeez… yes…—“ He tried looking for an excuse. “Well… From what you’ve said… it seems there’s no reason for you to be here… But how am I supposed to help!? I’m just human! And I didn’t even have my 20th birthday yet!”

“Don’t panic and listen.” Tengu grabbed him by his shoulder. “I can’t free myself from the inside, this prison can be open only from the outside.”

“Didn’t you say that this stone was made by a god?” Jeremy was sweating nervously. “Isn’t it like… crazy powerful?”

Tangu looked up.

“Maybe at the beginning, yes” He chuckled. “But nothing is truly eternal. This stone went through a lot and it was even cracked on multiple occasions. I can feel how weak it has become. I don’t think Ninja is needed for the job anymore.”

He smiled mischievously.

“A brute force might be just enough to shatter this prison.”

“You want me to crack the stone?” Jeremy panicked. “But that would be a destruction of property! I’d be punished for it! Oh man— I don’t have money for such a fine.”

“No one will know about it!” He screamed enthusiastically, trying to earn the boy's trust. “After you get me out I will simply fix it! I promise!”

Jeremy looked at Tengu with mixed emotions. 

“All you need is a hammer, or other tool!” Tengu smiled. “It just so happens that the equipment is right there!”

“And what will you do once you get out?”

Spirit turned around, hiding his face from the boy.

“I’ll return home.” He exclaimed. “I miss my mountain…Maybe I’ll even say hi to old friends.”

He felt conflicted. Tengu’s story felt genuine, but despite his reassuring words, he still felt freaked out by the spirit. 

There were several outcomes of this encounter, and he preferred not to know how it would end if he said “no” to him.  

“I’ll try my best…” There wasn’t much confidence in Jeremy’s voice. “Just…– How do I wake up?”

Spirit of the warrior smiled and came closer to the boy.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” Smile disappeared from his face, and he lowered his voice. “I’m counting on you…– Don’t fail me.”

His last words sounded like a threat. But before Jermey was able to  say anything, he felt a powerful punch hit his stomach. He hasn't experienced such pain before. His eyes faded to black.

He was back.

Jeremy jumped up from the floor. He was sweating and breathing quickly, he could feel his heart pounding his chest, like if it was about to break free from the ribs of his body. He tried to calm down but what he just experienced was simply too much. He was scared for his life.

He grabbed his trusty flashlight.

“I’m so glad to see you again!” He screamed. “I’ve had the weirdest dream of my life! There was this giant bird, and then shoosh! He changed into a samurai, and he told me…”

Jeremy turned his head towards the mosaic. The stone was glowing like a warning sign, it was bright enough to light up the whole hall. It was calling him.

“...He told me to break the stone…” He put down his light. “I’m sorry… I think you should just wait here…Close your eyes while we’re at it…”

He took a deep breath and walked towards boxes of equipment. He didn’t want to do this, but what will happen to him if he decides to flee now? Will he be cursed forever? Will his family die? The thought of spirits, or worse, demons, haunting him for the rest of his life was much worse than paying a few bucks for destroying one thing on the property.

A hammer laid heavy in his hand. 

As he was getting closer to the stone, he felt as if the golden carp was judging his every action. It looked angry in the bright moonlight, and the glow of the amber prison made its scales look alive.

Stress was making him gasp for air. He knelt down and lifted his hammer high, ready to strike the stone.

His whole body was shaking.

“Please… let this be over with.” He closed his eyes and struck the stone.

His first hit was met with a lot of resilience, but it didn’t make him stop. On each next hit he was striking it harder and harder, and with each one he could feel the surface cracking.

The light coming from the stone was getting dangerously intense, and after dealing another blow, he was violently thrown across the hall by a strange and powerful force.

Tiny bits of amber scattered across the floor, and the hammer hit the ground with a loud bang. Jeremy tried to pick himself up, but his body was hurting from the fall. 

And then he heard it, a terrifying screech.

If you’ve managed to reach this section, I want to give you my biggest thanks for taking time out of your precious life to give my story a read ♥️♥️

I might not be the best writer, but I enjoy what I do — and besides, there’s always room for improvement

And remember kids, don’t ever trust a Tengu trapped in a magical stone, he’s mad and insanely good at lying

[itzjustmonikas]

Some short cute scenarios of the octavinelle trio relating to magicam! (Jade,Floyd, Azul x reader with no specified gender)

-Jade runs one of those foraging accounts you see on YouTube where he shows people different types of plants/fungus. He gets especially excited talking about his collection and how he tends to his plant babies. Most viewers first started watching him for his voice, hands, and appearance but stayed for the information. One day he asked you for some help with transporting a pot/harvesting a rare plant and got you on video. You didn't think much of it at first and just went on with your day, but when he uploaded the video his fans were all commenting, asking who you were because they liked your voice and found it rare to see someone other than Floyd in the videos. He responded in the next video by saying “That’s a secret~” and people start speculating and talking about who you might be. You end up making more appearances but your face is never shown as Jade wants to keep his beloved all to himself~ and well, he is amused at his fans reactions and want to keep them guessing ;)

-Floyd is canonly very caught up on the latest trends and fashion. He has a big wardrobe and buys alot of different clothing items and accessories. It definitely costs a lot of money so Azul suggested for him to be one of those influencers that post their fits in order to get brand deals to support that lifestyle. Floyd agreed and is actually interested in doing it consistently, he eventually gets pretty popular on magicam because of that and gets invited to a high end luxury brands fashion show. He initially didn't want to go but found out that you liked the brand so he took the offer and brought you with him. You guys got dressed in matching outfits and went to the show together and go viral for your matching outfits and how compatible you both look. Floyd especially for his eyes, tallness, and unique appearance but you also looked very gorgeous alongside him, had great chemistry. Brands end up sending Floyd loads of clothes for upcoming couple lines and you guys ended up with lots of pictures and some fond memories together~

-As you spend more time in NRC you and Azul have gotten closer, chatting often during passing period and collaborating on projects. He was initially cautious of you and did not think you would become such a special and important person to him. He loves your kind words and feels as if you really understand him, he is still scared and a bit hesitant on telling you about his past. Will you decide to turn away from him like the others or will you accept him for who he is? He hopes for the latter...regardless, he wanted to show his gratitude for you by taking you out on a date to watch that one movie you've been excited about recently. You guys plan it out and go to to the theaters together, snacking on popcorn while giggling together at the funny scenes. As you guys walk out, hand in hand, a few people see you guys and end up snapping a pic of you two together because you guys just look so good! None of you realized because you were both enjoying the moment and excited to talk about your thoughts on the ending. Once you guys got back to the dorms you were bombarded with messages from Cater talking about how you and Azul went viral online. You were shocked and went to notify Azul who also just heard the news, both of you ended up reading through the trending tags and comments. You both blushed at the compliments you guys got, such as:

"they look so compatible", "the way he looks at [insert pronouns]>>>", "I love their outfits", "omgg the chemistry between these two", etc

People were wondering if you guys were upcoming models or something and were comparing you guys to known couples from dramas/television. It was an unexpected event but brought you guys closer in the end~

I am a first time writer so please bear with me if I made any mistakes, I am open to constructive criticism and hope you guys enjoy!

Let me know if any of you guys want a part 2🫧

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group D Round 4: God Troubles Me (Hanhua Riji) vs Happy Sugar Life

#D2: God Troubles Me (Hanhua Riji)

Prophecy girlie, hyper cellphone, and gamer cat get silly

#D3: Happy Sugar Life

Lots of traumatized minors messing each other up bad

Details and poll under the cut!

#D2: God Troubles Me (Hanhua Riji)

Summary:

Su Moting, the daughter of a god and a monster, is the supposed Chosen One set to fix the balance of the universe, but unfortunately, she’s just barely living as it is. Only just told of her great fate, Su Moting couldn’t care less as she juggles her social life, work, and her new duties (which she doesn’t take seriously). Alongside Moting are Star Tianji and Star Dikui, a god and a monster out to help our protagonist with her grand mission. They, too, are also struggling to figure out life on Earth, as Tianji is an immortal who doubles as the god of Su Moting’s personal cellphone and Dikui is a cat monster immortal more concerned with lazing about. Somehow, they make things work as the best worst roommates of all time.

Propaganda:

Four-season donghua (Chinese anime) that’s so recent and seeped in American pop-culture that I needed to do a double take when a literal cockroach said “Run, Forrest, run,” in English with a heavy Chinese accent. There’s a cat who plays video games (he’s very good at it), a phone who’s the worst kind of hype man, a sentient air conditioner, a guy who can shapeshift into any vehicle, off-brand Super-Man but jerky, a high-ranking god that collects anime figures, and the mega ultra cool protagonist who is a normal human girl fresh out of college and always low on money. It’s great

Trigger Warnings: Animal Cruelty or Death, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Flashing Lights, Racism, Self-Harm, Suicide.

All the TW’s above are done for comedic effect, but they come in fast and hard with the humor. Better safe than sorry! The biggest things I remember are one or two “blink and you’ll miss it” racist jokes, characters joking about killing themselves out of embarrassment (no one goes through with it), and there’s a LOT of self-harm via stupid decisions. Stupid things like tying a loose tooth to the back end of a sports car sort of stupid. The protagonists have 3 brain cells collectively.

#D3: Happy Sugar Life

Summary:

Satou Matsuzaka is a beautiful high schooler who has a reputation for being permissive with men. However, a chance encounter with a young girl named Shio Koube makes Satou realize that this is her first and only true feeling of love.

Telling others that she lives with her aunt, Satou secretly shares an apartment with Shio. Despite her innocent appearance, Satou is willing to do anything to protect her beloved, resorting to desperate measures to ensure that their “happy sugar life” remains intact.

Propaganda:

It is questionable, but in the way that the anime is meant to make you uncomfortable. It’s an uneasy psychological horror. You’re meant to dislike almost the entire cast, so you don’t know who to root for. Yes, the characters are fucked up, but it isn’t glorified as far as I can see.

It made my stomach churn, and I was sobbing at the end because that’s what it was trying to do.

I said it’s not good, meaning it’s not comfortable, and none of the characters are good. But it’s well-written and it’s interesting.

Trigger Warnings:

Child Abuse, Pedophilia (not graphic)

Murder/Violence (one brief scene is semi-violent, but most isn’t shown)

Kidnapping

Rape/Non-Con (not shown, but it’s obvious that it happened/explicitly stated)

Suicide

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form with your revisions, and I’ll consider adapting those changes.

New: Starting round 5, screenshots will be included in the poll post. You can submit screenshots through the form linked above, or through here, via ask or dm.

Guidelines in submitting screenshots:

No NSFW or spoilery images.

Pick some good images please. Don’t send any blurry or pixelated ones.

You may send up to 9 screenshots, but not all may be used.