#La Incomparable

[commander-katsuragi]

Incomparable

Tu muerte me ha pegado fuerte. Te seguía la cuenta en Twitter y desde hace algunos años tu salud ya no te acompañaba, ya no hacía eco de tu espíritu.

Hoy supe que ya estás en otro plano y no pude evitar mis ojos llenos de lágrimas. Y es que tú me acompañaste en una época increíble y difícil, en una edad en la que no sabía qué era lo que la vida traería al umbral del fin de mi adolescencia.

Recordé a fuego vivo el grupo de teatro en el que estaba en tercero medio, cuando Pedro Pinto, mi inolvidable profesor jefe, un hombre increíble que trajo a mi vida mucha luz y una hambre de conocimiento que no tenía, con el que me siento eternamente agradecida, nos hizo representar una adaptación de una obra de teatro en la que tu baño de luna a medianoche, resonó una y mil veces en la sala de ensayos, mientras yo maquillaba, hacía malabares tras bambalinas con la utilería y soplaba tras el telón los parlamentos a mis compañeros actores.

Hoy te escuché mientras hablaban de tí y de tu legado y yo sólo podía llorar recordando esas tardes de frío en la piel. Recordé mis desamores, mis miedos, mis inseguridades de aquel hermoso 1991.

Has partido, Cecilia Pantoja, la Incomparable. Hoy te lloro porque te llevas una parte de mi vida. Hoy, yo soy un poquito menos sin tí. Mi corazón duele, pero juramentado, toda la vida.

Buen viaje, Cecilia Pantoja. Espero que dónde estés, tu alma nunca más sea limitada por la carne y vivas siempre, cantes siempre, emociones siempre a los que te escuchen.

En espíritu, te llevas un pedacito mío colgado en la costura final de tu pantalón brillante, anhelando feliz de escucharte por la eternidad.

[marcussour]

Sadly, yesterday chilean music icon Cecilia passed away at 79 years old after a sudden illness, and I wanted to take a moment to write something regarding what an important figure she was to chilean music and culture in general.

Mireya Cecilia Ramona Pantoja Levi, known just as Cecilia -nicknamed “la incomparable” (the unmatched)- was a jewish chilean singer. Even though she started her career in the 50′s in her hometown of Tomé, she rose to prominence and stardom in the early 60′s as part of a movement that was known as the chilean “new wave”, that was basically a bunch of artists that took the rock n roll and twist anthems of the 50′s and 60′s and made versions in spanish (often more softened or “tame” versions of the most sugestive songs), that was part of a bigger movement of the same name that happened in almost all of Spain and Latin America.

But Cecilia was special because she always distanced herself from her peers, first by making her own music, and second, by singing songs made famous by spanish and italian artists, instead of usamerican or british ones. Those songs were also more romantic and sad than was the norm back then, to the point that now she’s known as an icon of the “cebolla” music (”onion music”, basically sad songs that made you cry). 

She was also special because of her looks: she had shorter hair and she mostly wore pants or suits similar to the ones Elvis wore in the 60′s and 70′s, all of this at a time when chilean society was even more conservative than today, to the point that her looks and her onstage dancing (that included her signature move, called “beso de taquito”, where she basically sent a kiss flying by doing a move similar to a football heel kick) brought her outrage and criticism from chilean society (there’s a well known episode where she performed at the Viña del Mar’s festival, the most famous music event of Chile, and they tried to censor her).

The things she did and the music she sang kinda made her an outlier between the more tame artists on the chilean new wave. But it was also what made her stand out, not only as a musical icon, but as a feminist and countercultural one: she was friends with some of Chile’s musical legends like folklorist Violeta Parra and singer/theater director Victor Jara (she even made covers of popular songs of both artists). She also founded her own record label during Allende’s government.

Sadly, with the US backed coup of 1973 and the arrival of Pinochet’s dictatorship, Cecilia had to move to a more underground life, partly due to her perceived political sympathies (it’s a well known fact that in the 80′s she was accused of fraud and spent time in jail as part of a political prosecution by the dictatorship because she was seen as “a communist” due to her having a cover of Violeta Parra’s legendary song “Gracias a la Vida”, even though she always referred to herself as an “apolitical” figure). It’s also worth noting that most of the chilean new wave artists were figures that aligned themselves with Pinochet’s dictatorship, either by conviction or convenience, and she was one of the few that refused, which is one of the reasons why she was removed from public eye.

When Chile’s buoyant night life disappeared under curfews and the perils of the dictatorship, Cecilia moved to perform in underground nightclubs, where she became an icon and a cult figure for other audiences: queer people and sex workers (in one of her last interviews, she said she was “the queen of the gays and the ladies of the night”).

With the return of democracy, her figure grew in stature not only among older generations, but also the newer ones, who not only saw in her a music legend, but a feminist icon and an important ally of the LGBTQIA+ community (besides her express support for queer people, there has been speculation for years regarding her sexual orientation due to the fact that she never married, never had a public romance or partner, nor did she had children; even when asked about her sexual orientation, she always kept it hidden due to wanting to have a private life -she once said that even if she was a lesbian, that’s part of her privacy and not something for the public to know-).

Well known chilean artists like Mon Laferte (with whom she recorded a duet), Anita Thijoux, Álvaro Henríquez, Los Bunkers and Javiera Mena always expressed admiration towards her figure. She also received in 2016 the presidential music award, the official award where the chilean government recognizes musicians for their contributions to chilean society.

Even now in death, thousands of people have come to her wake to say their final goodbyes to a musical legend, usually by singing along their songs. It’s a fitting tribute, after all, she stated that one of her final wishes was that, after she died, she wanted to be remembered and celebrated like a party.

Here are some of her most well known songs:

Tango de las Rosas

Puré de Papas

Baño de Mar a Medianoche

Un Compromiso

[upwardsdescensum]

Ayo is too powerful I fear🥲.

[wearelatinamericanrockers]

Café Tacvba is a Mexican Alternative Rock made in 1989 and known for their mix of traditional mexican music with Rock.

In addition to the commercial and critical success they have achieved, the group is recognized for its avant-garde cultural project which mixes rock and its usual themes with lyrics, stories and sounds extracted from Mexican popular culture, the latter thanks to the use in various songs. of instruments such as tololoche and jarana. Among the main awards obtained throughout his career, the Grammy and the Latin Grammy stand out.

Re achieved the gold record in Mexico for more than 40,000 copies sold, definitively putting the quartet on the Spanish rock map.

Theyve been on MTV their most famous songs are "Eres", "La ingrata" and "Aprovéchate". Propaganda Below;

"El Rubén es medio Joto, Re es una obra de arte y la mezcla entre folclore y rock es eximia" "deben ser mi banda favorita mexicana, me encanta que se noten las influencias indígenas y populares y como se mezclan con influencias punk y urbanas 🔥"

Cecilia Pantoja or Cecilia la Incomparable was a Chilean Tango Rock Jewish musician and one of the earliest and pioneer women rockers from the 60s.

Cecilia broke out as a soloist in the full glory of the New Wave, rising towards the mid-1960s as the biggest youth star of the time, although her style and repertoire did not fully respond to the mold of the movement. Cecilia acquired her own personality with a diverse catalog of songs ascribed to the Latin and European musical tradition.

has won one President of the Republic National Music Award in 2019, and has been dubbed "Queen of the gays and ladies of the night". Her most famous songs are "Baño de mar a medianoche", "Pure de papas" and "Aleluya"

[danielpowell]

Hello, I hope your day is going well! I was listening to the instrumental playlist you made for the irons a few months ago, and I'm absolutely smitten with the track 'the shore, it speaks with me' by cloudburn - its been on my main rota ever since. I just really love the field recorded elements of it, and its slow melodic synths. They sound really rich n textured n all that jazz, but tonally it's kind of a rare find? It reminds me a bit of mount shrine in that respect, but it's sparseness sets it apart from a lot of other stuff in the world of ambient music (if that's even the right genre to be looking in).

I've been looking around, and while I poke my head into ambient and instrumental genres, I've never found anything quite like it, and the track's artist doesnt seem hugely active. I wanted to ask if you had any directions you might recommend looking towards to find anything that scratches a similar itch?

honestly, if you have any advice for digging further into instrumental work, in general, it would also be very much appreciated. I have a inkling that I need to explore more from bandcamp.

Which is all to say: Thank you for sharing so many of the playlists you have made. They've opened the door to a lot of new music for me in the last few years, and have been a wonderful source of inspiration and further exploration, both for the artists included as well as the featured subjects.

Wow, this has to be one of the best asks I've ever received, I'm deeply touched ;w;

I completely understand the frustration of a rare find not matching anything in subsequent dig sessions. You are in the right direction, as ambient and field-recording are the terms I would use to describe this particular track.

Strangely enough, I was in the middle of digging for another mix and the soundscape of "The Shore, It Speaks With Me" is very reminiscent of a Claire Rousay album, A Softer Focus. Claire incorporates plenty of field recording in her works and it tends to verge on being solely ambiance with no real musicality; however, this album does have tracks with strings and synth.

I'd also recommend Chihei Hatakeyama's discography, particularly Hachirogata Lake, for the nature soundscape aspect.

Field Works has a lovely selection of field recording focused tracks and you might discover some new favorites in their available works !

I find that dark ambient has more symphonic elements, so maybe Dead Melodies or Atrium Carceri will have something along those lines. That said, dark ambient as a subgenre tends to be... dark.

SVLBRD and Warmth are on the more classically ambient side- this is also the artist behind ARCHIVES and Faint, the former of where I stumbled upon the original compilation that contained our fabled CloudBurn track.

Yes, I became aware of CloudBurn thanks to an ambient soundscape compilation on Bandcamp.

I’ve had a fondness for compilations since I grew up in coffee shops and record stores that would sell compilations at the counters < 3 They are a great place to start when looking into new genres. I also try to steer folks towards supporting local radio stations (especially student / college), but I do not think most offer an ambient format.

If you want to sonically wander, try looking into albums on there tagged with 'ambient' and 'field-recording' on Bandcamp. The best sellers are great in their own right, but the surprise me section might just surprise you !

I encourage music exploration in the way that is best for your personal experience. Ask around, go into a recommended tab rabbit hole, search your local record stores, find creative ways of using a platforms sorting algorithm, delve into a label's offerings, click on stuff with pretty album art, call into a local station, give a stranger's playlist a fighting chance- the world is your auditory oyster.

And my words falter when expressing gratitude. I can assure you that this was really heartwarming to see in my inbox and I'm always so thrilled to learn that my little mixes bring something to others. Thank you for listening, take care !

[mengonigallery]

Marco Mengoni live 2016 Amsterdam

[digital-ayatolah]

[manaosdeuwu]

i never emote on rollercoasters but i looooove them i have the time of my life going on life endangering rides

[feelingjane]

Cecilia 1943-2023 🌹 descansa en paz reina hermosa 💖

[enibly]

what i didn’t remember while watching Fast X

between me and my friend, we were able to figure out who everyone was (and all their various relationships to each other) except:

- who was Little Nobody? could not place him at all but apparently he joined in F8? i’ve only seen that one once so I guess I gotta rewatch it now

- who was the guy running the race in Rio? apparently he’s Diogo and was in Fast Five, and I do not remember him, so I guess I have to rewatch 5 again (which I’ve seen many times, but seriously, who is he?)

- why was Shaw so mad at Han? Shaw “killed” Han for killing hospitalizing Big Bro Shaw in 6, but then Shaw made peace with Dom and the others, so wouldn’t Shaw not be pissed at Han anymore? even when Han was like, I’m not here to fight you, Shaw kept going at him, but why?

[28mindgames]

23 de abril de 2024

UNIVERSIDAD PÚBLICA SIEMPRE 🇦🇷

gratuita, pública y federal

[ringside]

now what are the chances that bg chicago is the same weekend as my one big family vacation 😐

[star-girl69]

New Romantics

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!

a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!

LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!

New Romantics - Taylor Swift

warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.

The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.

It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.

You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.

You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.

The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.

The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.

This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.

There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.

Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.

“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.

The boy held out his hand.

“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”

Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.

Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.

The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.

You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.

He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.

You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.

“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”

You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.

Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.

You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.

She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.

Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?

Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?

“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”

The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.

“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”

He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.

“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”

His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.

“I said apologize, dumbass.”

He glares at Clarisse.

“You’re fucking insane.”

She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”

“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”

“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.

Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.

The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”

The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”

Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.

The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.

She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.

She brushes her thumb across her cheek.

“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”

She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.

Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.

—-

clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are

—-

[samkerrworshipper]

twos a company, threes a crowd pt.2 | alexia putellas x reader x lucy bronze

lucy and r decide to try and dom alexia but it doesn’t turn out to well….

part 1 - just more smuttttt for my horny girlies

warnings: smut smut smut 18+ minors dni.

You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek. There was something so incredibly wonderful about plotting against Alexia. Lucy, Alexia and you had fallen into some kind of rhythm with your lives, it was this perfectly orchestrated symphony that none of you were ready to label or even try to define. You just knew that it worked and that the sex was out of this world and that was all that really mattered. You were all young, and having fun was all that really mattered to you, you were all caught up in the cohesiveness between the three of you for anything else to matter.

Lucy had in a lot of ways moved into yours and Ale’s shared house. You’d never extended the invitation but she also knew it wasn’t necessary, and whilst the older woman might have acted like she had no idea how she’d wormed herself into you and Ale’s lives there was evidence of her everywhere in your house. Whether it was the coffee mug of hers that now permanently resided on the kitchen island, the sets of her clothes that now lived beside yours and Alexia’s in the wardrobe, her weird snacks that now inhabited the pantry or the hook at your door that Alexia had installed beside your own to hold Lucy’s keys that were on the hook more often than not.

She’d become a part of your lives, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The feeling of waking up with the two women beside you, even just the complete peace that seemed to overcome your house in the mornings as the three of you moved around making breakfast in the kitchen. It was all perfect, just pure incomparable happiness.

Navigating back to the sex though, it was incredible. Alexia had kept you above satisfied, she was exceptional, but having two women who knew exactly how to make you boneless and hot in all of the right places was celestial.

There was one thing that you and Lucy had been working on for the past few weeks though and the whole plan had you giddy. In the few weeks that Lucy had wormed her way into your house and lives she had been clearly getting a little bit agitated by the power that Alexia held in your bedroom. She loved the sex as well, but she wasn’t as used to being bossed around. In all honesty, she didn’t really mind, the pleasure that Alexia and you gave her was completely indomitable. But it was the challenge of one upping Alexia that had her plotting and somewhere along the way she’d managed to brainwash you into helping.

You were innocent, a true sub, especially for Alexia. She had you wrapped around her little finger, and you didn’t mind. You loved the way that she bossed you around and made you quiver just with her voice. Lucy had observed that, in the lead up and one Sunday afternoon, whilst Alexia had been out doing some media work and the two of you had been staying in watching a film and eating pizza she’d gotten to you. It had started with a rough, deep order and had ended with her edging you six times on her lap until you’d been at your wits end and ready to do anything to get your high. Somehow, in your orgasm obsessed haze you’d agreed to throw La Reina off of her throne.

It was a plan that had been a few weeks in the making. You’d been anxious about it to say the least, and Alexia had picked up on it. You’d pawned it off as being some injury concerns, you’d managed to obtain a small hamstring injury that had seen you doted over and not leaving bed without the assistance of Alexia or Lucy for three days.

Lucy was patient, she played the long game and the simple figment of her mind that knew that eventually she would get her moment was good enough to keep her plotting. She kept you informed, not enough that if Alexia managed to catch a whiff she’d get much out of you, but enough to keep you up to speed.

She knew that there was a part of you that yearned to get a little bit of power over your dom, that whether or not you wanted to admit it there was a bratty side of you hiding somewhere underneath and she was fairly certain that under the goody two shoes facade there was something lurking beneath.

So she plotted silently, in the dead of night, at training, every waking moment alone in her brain she spent trying to find the last puzzle piece to her plan, the perfect moment to take action.

It had come up when the three of you had received the news of a two week break that you had.

The three of you had decided to take the opportunity of the two week break and get away, making the collective decision to take a well earned trip to Greece. It was a dream, the three of you spending all of your spare time by the pool and drinking bottomless cocktails. It was also what Lucy considered as a vulnerability, an opportunity. During the season, all of you were so busy, you hardly had enough time to have normal sex, it was a luxury. So when you did you took what you could get, but right now, Lucy had what she considered a lot of leeway, and she was very ready to use it, especially to put her plan into play, and use Alexia’s innocent good girl as the main pawn in her plan.

It had started with letting you know her plan. It was the fifth day in your holiday and all of you were blissed out, the sun, sex and alcohol making you all much happier than you had been when you’d been working tirelessly in Barcelona.

She’d waited for that stage, waited patiently for Alexia to lull herself into calm, happiness, she was taking advantage of it and you were too amused by it to care very much.

You’d fallen into a routine, waking up with sleepy morning sex whilst the sun seeped up from the horizon, then you’d all have some wake up shower sex and make a decision on where you’d go for breakfast. After that you’d go for a morning walk, eat and then return to the holiday house to change into your bikinis and then you’d either head out to the pool or down to the beach. After a dip and some quality tanning time the three of you would trail back into town typically, feeding yourselves lunch before the two older women took an afternoon nap and you typically sat down and took some time to yourself, whether it was reading a book or catching up on the phone with some friends. Once they woke up the three of you would all get ready for an early dinner and then go out, before coming back to the house and fucking until you were all happily spent and tired from your day.

One thing Lucy had come to realise was that Alexia on holiday and Alexia at home were two completely different people. Alexia at home was a wild insomniac, she hardly slept and when she did it was light and fairly restless. However Alexia on holiday was a lot less stressed and a lot more content, she slept soundly and very deeply and Lucy took complete advantage of it.

So on night four, under the blanket of stars Lucy had whispered in your ear her plan for the following morning and you’d just let yourself feel giddy at the simple idea of what Lucy set out to do.

You’d woken up to Lucy rubbing circles along your back and murmuring good morning in your ear and it had been your sign to get into action. The both of you had discreetly slipped out from Alexia and the covers, Lucy retrieving her tools and you readying the room as quietly as possible for her plans.

She really was using you in relation to getting to Alexia, knowing that you being a brat would lessen the blow for her when Alexia clocked onto what was happening, you didn’t really mind. It wasn’t often that you misbehaved, you were Alexia’s angel, always a good girl but often you’d contemplate acting up just to earn yourself a little bit more attention from her. You’d never tapped into it, never let yourself out of fear that Alexia wouldn’t enjoy it, but with Lucy egging you on it was too good not too.

Once Lucy collected the supplies, that was when the plan truly fell into place. She passed you a variation of silk ties, pressing them into your palm as you anxiously smiled at her and then Alexia’s sleeping form, the woman was still deeply sleeping and you couldn’t help but watch her. She looked so peaceful when she slept, it was the rare moment everyday that you knew she was truly relaxed for, that all of the anxiety and pressure that was normally on her was completely gone. A part pf you felt bad for disturbing her, a part of you also had been thinking about this for weeks and now that you had the opportunity you knew that you and Lucy couldn’t waste it.

So you clambered as gracefully as you could onto the bed, and nudged Alexia onto her back, an action that had you taking a deep breath as she stirred slightly but didn’t awaken, thankfully. Once she’d settled back into the sheets you’d reached carefully for one of her hands, quickly tying one of the silk pieces around it and then tugging her lifeless arm up to one of the bed posts.

You repeated the same process with her other four extremities, Lucy watching you with a deep smirk on her face from her position sitting in a chair that she’d tugged out from the dining room, sitting directly in front of the bed so she had a full view of the show.

She watched keenly as you finished with Alexia’s extremities, the woman still completely unconscious, something that was equally unsurprising and surprising at the same time. That was phase one of the plan done, and arguably the easiest and one that would have lesser consequences. Once you’d double checked each of the bonds to make sure they were secure you’d reached onto the sheets and retrieved your other supplies that Lucy had handed you, supplies that you were certain would awaken the Catalan.

You took a deep breath, building up the courage in your chest as you passed the object between your hands.You and Alexia were in similar states of undress, in that neither of you were dressed whatsoever, your bodies on complete show to Lucia as she surveyed you. You could feel her eyes on you, raking up and down your naked form as you fiddled anxiously with the object.

“Can I?”

Your voice quivered, this was uncharted territory for you.

“Bebita, you don’t have to ask, Ale’s not in charge today and she’s given us full permission to be awoken by you like this, I promise you that I’ll keep you safe from her.”

Lucy’s final words were said with a snort that had you frowning deeply. You knew there was going to be repercussions for this, it was unavoidable that this whole scheme was going to end with you and Lucia in the sexual doghouse, but the risk was worth the reward.

You anxiously looked down at the purple silicone bullet vibrator that was balancing in between your index and your thumb.

“Y/n, don’t make me tell you again.”

Lucy’s voice was sterner, and your subbed out brain couldn’t do much more than listen to her. You pressed down on the on button, watching as the vibrator whirred to life in your palm and began to pulsate in your palm. Without a second glance at Lucy you reached down to the apex point between your thighs, pressing it directly to your clit and immediately moaning at the sensation.

It didn’t take long for you to do as Lucy had requested, get yourself hot, bothered and dripping. Once you did it was time for phase 3 of the plan, the part that involved the awakening of Alexia.

You began by very carefully straddling your legs over each side of her hips, hovering above Alexia, your juices dripping down onto her as you worked up the courage to do as Lucy had asked of you. Before you could second guess it, you reached down to Alexia’s own apex and before you could even begin to think about how this was going to end for you, you pressed it down onto her waiting clit and sunk yourself down on her abs, beginning to work yourself up and down the tanned skin.

It took a total of two seconds passed by before Alexia’s eyes popped open, a look of complete pleasure and terror washing over her as she took in her surroundings. It took a total of 5 seconds before she realised exactly who was hovering over her. 7 to discover what was Occuring to be causing her such pleasure and 8 to realise that she was completely restrained by the bonds on her arms and legs and your hips that were straddling her body to the bed.

Alexia looked like a mix between dumbfounded and gobsmacked, this was not what she’d been picturing the night beforehand when she’d been drifting off to sleep with you pressed up against her and her arms wrapped around Lucy.

Alexia just laid, absolutely stock still, sleep still in her eyes as she took in her surroundings. She struggled in the restraints for a total of 2 seconds before acknowledging that it was pointless, whoever had tied her up had done their job well and she knew from experience. She took in your form, observing you as you worked your way up and down her abs, your head propped backwards as the moans rolled from your mouth, the feeling of Alexia’s tense muscles brushing up against your entrance and sensitive little nub.

“Bebita.”

Alexia’s words were controlled, extremely controlled for a woman who currently had a vibrator pressed directly against her pussy with absolutely no way of moving away.

“Y/n, look at me.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, her voice as clear as crystals. You forced yourself to look down at her, a big frown looking up at you with both of her eyebrows raised up to her hairline.

“Bebita, I’m giving you the opportunity to be a good girl. I know that Lucia is using you to take advantage of me, and trust me she is going to be punished for it, but if you stop now and untie me, and stop whatever little stunt this is then I won’t punish you, you’re my good girl, you know it and so do I, don’t let Lucia manipulate you.”

You looked back at Lucy. She’d conditioned you in the past few weeks, told you that Alexia would do this, would try and use the good girl card, knowing just how much you craved her praise, Lucy knew that you wouldn’t slip up, or she trusted that her training had been enough to at least get you past this point.

“Mm sorry Ale, but I can’t.”

You continued to rock back and down on Alexia, the woman completely unable to do anything to stop you from approaching your orgasm, something that Alexia was so protective of.

“I swear to dios that if you cum baby then you won’t for a month. You don’t want that, remember the two weeks I spent edging you, you broke everyday, it was torture, don’t make me do that to you again, not when I’m giving you the opportunity to give up this stupid ploy.”

Alexia’s words were bitten out through gritted teeth, she was trying to stop herself from succumbing to the pleasure that she was inevitably feeling, trying to keep a brave face, trying to take proper control of you before her body betrayed her mind.

“She’s not going to break, Reina, I’ve got her well trained.”

Lucy stood up from her seat for the first time, allowing Alexia to get a proper view of the older woman, who was grinning down at her like the Cheshire cat.

“Don’t even get me started on you Lucia, trying to manipulate our little angel.”

Lucy just smirked at Alexia, reaching down in between her legs and taking the vibrator from your hands, pressing down on Alexia by herself.

“She’s no angel, hell she was practically jumping at the opportunity to get a one up on you, you should have seen the glint in her eyes when she was tying you up, and now you get to watch the glint in her eyes as she comes undone all over you without your permission or help.”

Alexia’s jaw locked and you could tell that any pleasure she was feeling was being completely washed out as she watched you becoming a complete mess on her stomach, slowly melting all over her.

“Bebita, don’t you dare cum, lo juro por dios, if you cum then I will edge your ass and spank it raw everyday for the next month, that’s a promise.”

Lucy just smiled at you, reaching her free hand down to the gap between your thighs and pressing down hard on your sensitive little nub, forcing you to see stars as you teetered on the edge of release that you knew Alexia was going to kill you for going over.

“It’s okay sweetheart, go ahead, cum for me sweetheart, don’t listen to Reina.”

You smiled at Alexia, sugar sweet before looking back at Lucy and nodding, waiting for another wave of pleasure to wash over you before Lucy roughly pinched your clit, sending you directly over the edge.

You spasmed into Lucy’s arms, feeling Alexia’s body tense aggressively below you, the older woman clearly extremely displeased by you. As you came down from your high you got a flash of Alexia’s deep frown, you were in the shit as soon as you untied her, but why end your fun prematurely?

You reached down to Alexia’s lips, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, not lingering for long enough for her to have the opportunity to deepen it or even try to bite you, just a form of kindness that you rewarded her with.

“Untie me, right now.”

Her jaw was set as stone, the unhappiness and disdain clear across her facial expression.

“I don’t think we’re done yet, I think that I’m going to go and fuck our good girl over the kitchen bench, we’ll leave the door open though, so you can hear what’s happening.”

Lucy was pushing, toeing the blurred line that was Alexia’s restraint. There was a certain point of joke Alexia could get to. There were limits though. Number one on that list being your orgasm, without her permission. It was a safely guarded thing that Alexia was possessive of and having Lucy walk in and purposely take advantage of that was getting on her last nerve.

“Lucia Roberta, don’t push me.”

Lucy just smirked at Alexia, picking you up off of her hips and having you straddle Lucy’s own hips as she lifted you. You immediately secured both of your arms around her neck, holding on tightly to the Lioness.

“M’ sorry Ale.”

You gave her a sad smile, you felt a little bit bad, but only a smidge enough for the look in her eye to make you feel a tad bit guilty.

“Baby, listen to me, Lucia’s already in a lot of trouble, but if you stop here, if you prove to me that you can be a good girl, I’ll lessen the punishment for you, prove to me that you can still be my perfect angel.”

Your lip wobbled in between your teeth, you wanted to give into Alexia. But you were already getting punished, and you figured so was Lucy, anything you were getting she’d receive the same, so at least you were going through it together.

“Can’t do that Ale, I'm Luce's good girl today.”

Alexia was possessive, more than anything else and you claiming you were Lucy’s girl set off bursts of anger across her body. She was happy to share you with Lucy, but flat out being ignored and taking her power off of her was taking it a step too far.

Lucy secured to vibrator to Ale’s thigh, smirking at the Catalan as she carried you out of the room and into the kitchen. Lucy’s heart swelled with pride at your defiance, her heart thrumming with pride at your continuing resistance to Alexia.

Lucy rewarded you, roughly bending you over the kitchen counter and hardly giving you enough time to think before she stuck two fingers into your pussy, beginning a relentless, pistoning pace. It had you very quickly becoming a moaning mess on the kitchen counter, your breasts pressed against the marble slab and your nipples hardening against the surface. It was pure ecstasy, Lucy focusing all of her energy on making you feel good, and getting you as loud as possible to ensure Alexia could hear.

“Luce, please, another finger.”

You were a panting, muffled, moaning mess, the pleasure of Lucy’s fingers pumping in and out and curling against your sweet spot being so incredibly pleasurable.

Lucy obliged your request quickly, adding a third finger to your entrance and slowly working it in, it was a stretch but your hole very quickly accommodated to the extra digit, your hips rocking back against Lucy to push her deeper on every pump. It was pure celestial ecstasy and the feeling of your nipples rubbing against the cold only added to the sensations that your body was feeling, the irresistible pleasure completely fogging over your brain.

“Luce, mm, fuck going to cum, going to cum all over your fingers, please let me cum.”

Lucy only began to roughen her pace, completely unrelenting in her rapidity. There was something so enjoyable about knowing how much you were ticking Alexia off, how wrong this was in so many ways.

“Cum sweetheart, cum for me, my good girl.”

It was Lucy’s praise that sent you tumbling over the edge, your hips bucking wildly against the marble counter, a movement that you were sure would leave bruises along your hips bones, although by the end of today you were fairly certain they wouldn’t be the only bruises on your body.

“You two are in so much trouble.”

It was the low and grumbly voice of Alexia that had your head immediately picking up from the kitchen counter, your pleasure cloud no longer glazing over your brain.

Alexia was standing, a metre in front of the kitchen counter, arms crossed across her chest grumpily as she watched you and Lucy.

Lucy looked absolutely terrified, like she’d just seen a ghost.

“How the fuck did you get out?”

Alexia smirked at Lucy’s exclamation, pulling up her right wrist which was looking fairly inflamed.

“I dislocated my right wrist, fairly easy if you know how to do it right, then I untied the rest.”

Alexia was smirking like a full psychopath, a shit eating grin spread all over her face as she watched the two of you realise just how fucked you were now.

“I’m sorry Ale, I’m sorry, Lucy told me I had to, that, that she’d tie me up if I didn’t help with you.”

It had come to your realisation that there were two paths you could go down right now, and that was Lucy’s or Alexia’s. Seemingly, you were middle ground, and Alexia had the higher ground, so jumping ship earlier was only going to do you better.

Alexia smiled at you, Alexia also knew that you were fair game and whoever had their innocent baby girl on their side was always going to win.

“There’s my good girl. Don’t get me wrong, you're still in trouble, two orgasms, that’s completely against the rules, but I’ll deal with you another day. I think it’s about time that Lucia reaps the consequences of manipulating our sweet little girl.”

This was what Alexia lived for, Lucy and I knew it. I came out from under Lucy, walking towards Alexia like a kicked puppy and walking into her open arms.

Lucy stayed at the kitchen counter, frowning deeply at your betrayal.

“Come here Lucia, don’t prolong the inevitable.”

Within a few seconds Lucy was joining you in Alexia’s embrace, the both of you allowing the Catalan older woman to lead you into the bedroom for whatever punishment she had planned for the two of you for the rest of the day.

“Now, considering the two of you planned on leaving me tied up in here all day, your going to do the same, except I’m going to put your vibrators in and for every single orgasm that you two have today it will equal a day that you both spend being edged, understood?”

Alexia’s voice was painfully stern, as she led the two of you to the bed she’d previously occupied, for a much worse fate than she’d had.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The worst opening ceremony ever

That’s because you’re looking at it all wrong. The opening ceremonies are incomparable, for a whole list of reasons:

The economic and financial situations, both in the country that’s hosting and for the entire world.

The country hosts

The creative and production teams involved in putting on the shows.

Geopolitical tensions and issues of the times

The athletes involved

You’re expecting 2008 production value in a 2024 world that’s dealing with different economic crises, two very significant wars with WW3 breakout potential, and a rising far-right/return to dictatorship. It’s incomparable.

You have to look at the opening ceremonies as their own standalone unit. And when you consider last night’s spectacle that way, it was actually a tremendous success:

Arson shut down most of the French trains and there were enormous fears of what it meant for the ceremony, but it went off without a hitch.

It rained the whole time, but all the performers still made good performances, no one was injured, and everyone made it.

Celine Dion made her first major public singing appearance while dealing with a huge medical condition. If you don’t know the significance of Celine Dion to the French or the song that she performed, then just be awed by her commitment to turn up, IN THE FREAKING RAIN, on TOP of the Eiffel Tower to perform. Who cares if she lip-synced? It was raining! She showed up anyway, with every right to demand the performance be relocated to the flat ground under cover.

The athletes all had a good time and were excited.

The cityscapes during the torch relay showed off Paris’s incredible architecture and skyline. Name any other city that can do that and have it be so meaningful.

The bells of Notre Dame rang for the first time in 5 years, they gave credit to all the workers and trades/crafts that have been restoring and repairing the cathedral, and gave an homage to the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

There was a lady in a croissant costume. A CROISSANT costume!

They had a choir of headless Marie Antoinettes accompanying a heavy metal band that was performing AT the very same prison she was held captive at.

They lit a piano on FIRE and floated it down the Seine while performing “Imagine.”

They acknowledged France’s bloody, violent history without it being preachy or sentimental. (Watch the LA 2028 ceremony ignore the US’s bloody history - I guarantee you it’ll highlight our melting pot culture but it won’t even touch on the oppression, slavery, Civil Rights era, or how indigenous peoples were treated, much like the London 2012 ceremony didn’t acknowledge Britain’s bloody history.)

They highlighted all the ways that French culture contributed to the global community; music, literature, love, fashion and Coco Chanel pink, Louis Vuitton, the Eiffel Tower, croissants, the minions, and French people’s contributions to modern sport (as well as foreign success in French sport).

The homage to Assassin’s Creed, the Phantom of the Opera, and other famous masked French figures in the torch relay and flag-bearers.

They had an opera singer dressed as the French flag singing the national anthem from a sloped rooftop over the stadium in the rain. I had literal chills, y’all. It can’t get more patriotic than that.

Organizers made statues of important French women to display during the ceremony and they’re DONATING all of them to Paris after the Olympics! I don’t know if you caught it, but the male-to-female representation in Paris’s statues is 4.5:1 (over 200 male statues, just 40ish female statues). It’s an incredible start towards gender equality in Parisian and French history that a lot of countries could take a note from.

Les Mis! Who doesn’t love a good musical interlude?! Especially one introducing a segment paying tribute to the French Revolution. (And I must admit, I’m now kinda expecting LA 2028 to have a Hamilton nod.)

The image of Assassin’s Creed with the dove wings behind her as she walked up.

All the athletes running together for the final torch relay - more chills! (Usually that doesn’t happen.)

Raising the Olympic cauldron by hot air balloon so everyone could see.

That amazing light show from the Eiffel Tower.

and so much more.

Yeah, the can-can line was sloppy and the audio quality was poor, the parade of nations took forever (they always take forever though) and no one understood the order they were coming in (because it wasn’t explained until *after* the ceremony that the upcoming hosts are also at the end) and there’s a ton people offended by the threesome and the drag queens on the grounds of religious morality (you can see my reaction to that criticism in the earlier post below), but overall, all things considered? Considering the entire 4-5 hour show, in the spectacle that is Paris, with a terrible weather forecast, in the unprecedented geopolitical times we’re in?

It was a kick-ass opening ceremony.

[itsonlydana]

"passenger princess" | chapter two

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 4,2k

❱ summary: meeting Thranduil; memories of first and past encounters

❱ warnings: alcohol, the usual swearing and bantering

❱ an: first look at the dadd.. father Thranduil! What do we think? hehe :)

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER TWO: THRANDUIL

Thranduil's appearance shouldn't have surprised you that much, he was Legolas' father after all and owned the very table you sat at.

But here you were; hands clenched in your lap as you drank in the glorious sight of him.

Thranduil Oropherion took your breath away every time you saw him and now that you were slightly drunk and already caught unguarded more than ever.

As CEO of his law firm, he usually never drove home before midnight, so seeing him at a relatively early hour - a good quarter hour before 11 - was unusual.

On other occasions, when you found yourself at Legolas' place at a later hour, he would make a modest effort at conversation but promptly excuse himself to retire to his rooms.

Today, the man in front of you looked quite chipper, his sharp eyes wandered through the round before it lingered on you.

"You were far from getting her," Thranduil mocked his son, "or she wouldn't have lost interest so quickly. Though I doubt it had ever been there, had it?" He smirked.

You blushed under his gaze, which stayed on you as he slowly unbuttoned his long black coat with long and nimble fingers; it brought a diziness that wiped out everything in your mind.

"All tactics, Thranduil," you blurted out, though your voice threatened to break away.

Quickly, you took a sip of your now lukewarm beer. It did not help whatssoever.

After swallowing, you tipped the bottle toward the board, "When his mind is on his ego, he doesn't play quite as well and well, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't take complete advantage of that?"

At the indignant "Hey!" of your best friend, Thranduil laughed gravelly and warmly. "Very good tactics- you're such a clever girl."

Oh god.

His praise hit you right in the heart and before you could control yourself, the blood rushed hot to your cheeks.

You nodded, because now you knew you couldn't trust your voice.

With a dry throat, even though you had just finished drinking, you watched as he stripped off his coat, revealing one of those perfectly fitted brown suits that drove you crazy.

No ones Dad should be allowed to look this hot, right?

But of course, here he was; looking exactly what you imagined model agencies were after.

Legolas had to have gotten his looks from somewhere and one look was sufficient to pin point exactly from who.

They had the same long blonde hair, though Thranduil's flowed down his back like molten silver while Legolas embodied the warmth of sunshine in his blond strands.

Their features mirrored each other as well, from the enchanting light blue eyes to the dark eyebrows and prominent cheekbones, though then there were Thranduil's lips, tinged with a rosy hue, that, when curled into a smile, not only lit up his whole face but every cell in your body as well.

He was a total DILF, a more refined version of his equally beautiful son and wouldn't you've had befriended Legolas and met his father, you're sure that you would have become on of Las's admirers.

And oh Thranduil's height played into his imposing figure as well, around 6,5' tall and built with broad shoulders that flexed under his white shirt, tightening it as he folded his arms behind his back and walked toward your little round.

Unconsciously, your head moved along with his relaxed steps, following the swing of his hips and the casualty with which he loosened the tie around his neck. You admired him for his sauntering, no matter how he walked, how he stood and how he sat, he radiated an incomparable elegance.

He came to a stop right behind you, propped one hand on the back of your chair to lean down slightly, and you took in a cloud of his senses-thrilling perfume, rich and noble and underneath the smell of just him.

Leaning lightly against his fingers, you sensed the pressure of the rings adorning his slender hands against your back, prompting you to automatically straighten up.

If someone else behaved like you, the fawning, the blushing, gods– the giggling and utterly nonsense you could ramble whenever Thranduil was close, you would have called them completely ridiculous and a lovesick fool.

It had taken a lot of effort to face what your body, your heart, your soul and your whole being demanded.

That it was the father of your best friend hadn't necessarily made it easier for you.

The first time you met Thranduil Oropherion was at the end of the second semester, on a night that, while seeming ordinary, marked a turning point in your life.

It was mid-February, the day of your last exam before the semester break. An exam with Professor Sauron on the last day—seriously, who came up with such sadistic ideas?

Frustrated, you decided the only logical solution was to hit your favorite bar.

The cozy joint quickly filled up with your fellow students. Fast forward a few hours, and there you were, getting schooled by Aragorn in Beer Pong, winning a drinking contest against Gimli, and belting out "Mr. Brightside" with Legolas on karaoke. Looking back, it had to be one of your finest performances. The two of you would get compliments for "rocking that shit" that never really ended.

So, none of you were in any shape to catch the usual bus back home.

Surprisingly, even Aragorn, who usually doesn't party to the point of a near coma like you, was holding his own with the beer. Plus, there wasn't enough cash left for a cab.

You pushed the problem aside until the bar shut off the music in the wee hours, and the remaining patrons were tossed into the night.

Confronted with the cold February air, you had to make a quick decision; none of you wanted to spend the semester break sick in bed.

So, Legolas, after fumbling with his cell phone and struggling to find the right number in his contacts, called his father.

It was only after the short call, in which Legolas slurred a "See you soon, Ada," that you thought about whether you had just woken the man up.

Although Legolas assured you several times how little his father slept and that he had likely been working, you couldn't help but worry about your first encounter with your best friend's father.

The few details you had managed to extract from the blonde, who had fallen asleep on your shoulder, were that he's "totally cool as long as I don't barve over the seats" and that his name was Thranduil.

It was a name that now rolled smoothly over your tongue, strange and enticing, and that he wasn't just a lawyer but owned an entire law firm, "the one that took down that one asshole, y'know?"

Knowing Legolas, his grades and the level of intelligence he had whenever he wasn't in love or drunk, it made sense that his father had cared a great deal about his education.

That you felt sick to your stomach and nervous about meeting the man was an understatement. There was a part in you that was ready to run into the night as to avoid meeting your best friends father drunk and barely dressed; and that for the first time.

A man so firm in his attitudes about work and education surely had no joy in picking up his son, drunk as hell, in the middle of the night or playing cab driver for his equally drunk friends.

Those thoughts vanished as soon as a sleek black sports car pulled up in front of the sidewalk and he stepped out.

He could've been Legolas older brother by the looks of them.

Adorned, as usual, in impeccably coordinated slacks and a crisply pressed shirt, this time in a striking bordeaux hue, Thranduil exuded a forbiddingly handsome presence.

The long platinum hair framed his face, pulled up into a ponytail, and his piercing eyes thoroughly surveyed you as he stepped out.

Even if your ass was freezing off on the stone, you were glad to be sitting down. Your legs had turned into jelly as you peared up.. and up and up those long legs.

His first words caught you off guard.

You had expected a lecture about your drinking habits or a mocking comment along the lines of: "partied a little too hard, did we?"

However, the first thing Thranduil said was a warm, "You'll catch your death out there, hop in!" before ushering you into the car.

Wrapped in a surprisingly cozy blanket he provided, you sat in the passenger seat moments after loading a still-dozing (and very much drooling) Legolas into the back seat with Gimli and Aragorn. It wasn't a long drive, but the heated seats and the exhaustion of the day quickly lulled the boys into a sleep you couldn't share.

Determined to stay awake, to make a good impression on Thranduil, you wanted to talk to him and thank him for the ride.

Somehow, you couldn't manage to open your mouth. Instead, it was he who broke the silence with a lowered voice at a red light.

"You must be the woman Legolas won't stop talking about," he stated, your name rolling off his tongue, and at your nod, he smirked. "Legolas has told me so much about you that I wondered when I might finally meet you."

Your eyes were glued to the man at the wheel, not just because of his handsome face and the way he pronounced your name. The last part would have you swooning, wondering how your own name could sound so... sensual on anyones lips.

It was easy to fall into conversation with him after that, even if the beginning was a bit bumpy on your part due to sobering up. You may have forgotten what seminars you took and completly got off road babbling about the books you needed to read, that didn't matter though.

Thranduil listened to you, looked at you, and responded to your stories and opinions with such interest and wit that something in you was released, something that would stay with you for a long time.

He did it a lot now, watching you, looking at you and like, really looking at you with his cerulean eyes that broke through every wall you've ever built around yourself.

It was clear from the beginning that this wasn't some boy like the ones you went on dates with before.

He was a man who showed his interest in what you had to say and what you thought because he was interested in you and not because he wanted to get into your pants.

While Thranduil wasn't always there, making himself sparse whenever the four of you got too loud for him or giving you the freedom to use the house as a second home, those moments where he did join you left an even greater indent in your heart that slowly carved a Thranduil-sized shape into the muscle.

Take last winter for example.

Christmas was coming closer every day, bringing with it the usual hustle of cramming in study sessions for the last exams to be taken while trying to work through the bullet list of activities that Legolas had planned.

They were more meticulous and even color coordinated which made a fine example of his study habits when you tried to quiz him on one of the many topics and all he could list was when and where the first Christmas markets would open. He hadn't even bothered to fake taking an interest in studying.

You loved him, very much so but he tested your skills on holding back and smacking him so much that you needed to get up and get out of the living room. Gimli and he would be alright if you left them alone for a second. Surely.

The afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the high entrance hall as you sat down on the stairs, shuffling through the flashcards you'd prepared in the hopes of getting at least some of the information into your overflowing, mushed brain.

At this point, your head must have been steaming, stuffed full with dates and people doing this because of that, and the historical development of words that you needed to explain other words– it went on and on, building up to a scarily high stack of cards and notes.

You just made yourself as comfortable as one could, perched on one of the steps, leaned against the wall, and feet crossed at the ankles and your back hunched over one of the cards, as one of the doors upstairs opened and closed, followed by footsteps and then, an amused huff.

"Why am I not surprised to find one of you doing yoga on the stairs?"

You snapped up, a sharp sting zipping through you at the sudden movement and you winced, glancing up to the top of the stairs.

"Yoga? Why the hell– sorry, shit.."

Then, your feelings for Thranduil had been simmering on high heat, a new development of the crush that slowly but surely grew out of control.

There was a duality tearing you in two different directions.

1. he was still Mister Oropherion, Legolas's father, a respectable man in society (after the first meeting you had frantically googled him, lying under the stuffy blanket in your dorm and tried to find out as much as you could through newspaper articles and zooming into pictures) and he radiated power, influence.

2. He was Thranduil as well, loving and caring not just to his son but to his friends as well, always making time after a long day at work to ask how you all were and if you needed anything. He drove you around whenever none of you could anymore, he laughed at your jokes and teased, smirking at you, watching you over the rim of his reading glasses…

How were you supposed to act around him if not like a total fool?

Thranduil raised a hand to his mouth and pressed his thumb against his lip which obviously twitched into an amused smile at your attempt to sort out this situation.

"That position you were in just now resembled one I did in my morning yoga course this morning," Thranduil explained as he made his way down, stopping two steps behind you.

"Yoga," you repeated quite horse at the mental image of this man twisting his long body– no no no this was not what should occupy your mind right now, most definitely not.

"However, I see I was incorrect," he continued and nodded the tip of his chin down at the flashcards. "Not as much fun as yoga."

You made a sound somewhere between a distressed wail and laughter. "No this is so much fun, actually. I think I'm having too much fun; nothing else I wanna do other than burn the reasoning for a man doing whatever into this nuggin'"

And while you were alright at it, you knocked your own palm against your forehead, hoping that it would delete some useless information out of there to make room.

It did nothing of the sorts, why would your head cooperate for once in your lifetime exactly when Thranduil was taking another step, right over you and sat down on your other side– one step lower.

The height difference allowed him to have an inch on you nonetheless, presenting you with a close-up of his jawline and the ivory curve of his neck and shoulder line that peeked under his cashmere sweater.

"C'mon," he said and held out his hand.

Your brain was short-circuiting, running hot trying to figure out if you should take it with your hand.

Thranduil chuckled and reached over, taking the stack of cards out of the tight grip of your hands that loosened at the brush of fingertips against skin.

He shuffled through them as well, looking over your handwriting and that alone felt so much more intimate than anything else he had ever done.

Here he was, sitting next to you, his eyes following the brush of your pen and you wondered if he saw the sharp slants of the t's and the dots on the i's and if there was a universe where he thought about his name in your handwriting.

He must have said something for suddenly he lifted his head and looked at you, still staring.

His eyes, the brightest of blue, wandered back and forth on your face, moving and examining and though you were scared he was figuring it out, putting puzzle pieces together that revealed a picture of your desire, you couldn't find it in you to look away.

You imagined kissing him. Press your mouth against those soft and pink lips and finally get it done and over with.

You blinked.

And drew back first.

Thranduil's head inclined the tiniest bit, a quizzing glance in his last glance before he cleared his throat and leaned back against the wall. The winter sun warmed your cheeks and the fuzzy socks on your feet knocked against the banister as you situated yourself again.

This was alright.

Not the right time for kissing your best friend's father but spending time with him filled that part in you that arched for the slightest ounce of attention that he could spare.

And if this was studying in their hallway, you would be alright.

"So… please explain to me what happened in the year–"

"Things don't seem to be in your favor," Thranduil remarked in the present as he examined the board.

Meanwhile, Gimli, who had momentarily slipped your mind in the haze of thoughts about him and the pleasant warmth coursing through your body from both him and the alcohol, burst into laughter.

"Well," you swallowed hard and forced yourself to look away from Thranduil and back at the table.

You didn't have to look at your friends to see the smirk on their faces.

At first, you had wanted to keep your secret to yourself, but damn Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn, and the evening after one of the harder exams that had loosened your tongue and pulled at your words bit by bit until all your insides poured out, just like the tears that came from finally being able to share this part of you.

Now you had to live with the consequences, the wagging eyebrows whenever Thranduil said something, the giggling as if you were ten and not in your twenties, and if that wasn't frustrating enough, the three of them conspired in a manner that they could disappear as soon as they had to chance to leave you and Thranduil alone.

You searched for your voice for a moment: "Who knows how the game will turn out? I've been clinging for what feels like an eternity to this money and the few rents I can collect. After all, these idiots ripped off street after the other."

"You brought this on yourself," Aragorn replied, rolling the dice.

You hadn't noticed Legolas' move at all, and from the grins on the faces of the three of them, dread gripped you as you anticipated something truly mischievous.

"What have you... Legolas!" you almost shrieked when you saw his rider on your street. "Why didn't you say anything?" you asked aloud, glaring angrily into the round, only to have cheeky-looking faces flashing back at you.

Aragorn started to walk his figure, but you leaned far over the table, grabbing his wrist with one hand. "No.. no, that doesn't count! We were on a break!" you tried to complain but got no encouragement.

Nice friends you had chosen.

Not even Aragorn, who usually took no sides, now raised his shoulders in a quick shrug.

"I said I'm gonna continue," Legolas sang. You saw his lips continue to speak, but the words sounded muffled in your ears, "It's not our fault if you were distracted"

This pure audacity.

The disrespect.

The nerve of this blonde headed idiot!

You wanted to scream, you wanted to shake the mirk out of his face, but all you did was nail him to the chair with a pointed stare.

To no avail.

The guy was building up immunity to that scarily fast. In no time soon, you would need to find another way to shut him up.

The blood burned your face as you let yourself fall backward.

Not the smartest idea, because as soon as your back made contact with Thranduil's hand, you sucked in a sharp breath, a sound that didn't escape the man behind you.

The only thing you could think of to somehow save yourself from the situation was to cross your arms in front of your chest desperately.

Like a defiant child, you pushed your lower lip forward and jutted your chin up. "Alright, let's play unfair."

Behind you, Thranduil smirked.

His breath hit your cheeks hotly as he leaned down to your height all at once, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered. "No matter how you play, dirty or not, destroy them for me, okay sweetheart?"

As if his proximity wasn't already the catalyst for the endorphin explosion and clouding your perception of everything else but him, the way the pet name 'sweetheart' rolled loosely over his tongue made your heart skip a beat.

Fuck, you were so fucked.

"Of course," you managed to bring out just barely.

Your voice had jumped up the scale so far it could have been a squeak. If you tried to think about why he'd unpacked that pet name out of the blue, your brain would probably have gone up in smoke.

Or you would have gone crazy.

Neither seemed like a really promising option and so you played it cool, throwing him a smile and then reaching for the dice.

You felt Thranduil straighten up again, heard the soft rustle of his fine suit pants, and forced yourself to concentrate on moving your figure along and placing it, thank heavens, to a prison visiting field.

"You're home early, Ada," mumbled Legolas, a handful of sour gummy worms between his teeth as his sticky fingers accepted the dice.

Behind you, Thranduil now propped himself up with both hands on your backrest, his tall figure casting a shadow on the board in front of you in the dim light of the kitchen, making your thoughts, as well as your breath, catch.

He was so much taller than you, his shadow engulfing yours completely.

"Would you believe me if I said I was hoping to see my son after a long week at work?" he asked, and for a moment you thought you felt his thumb brush your shoulder blades.

But the feathery touch disappeared so quickly that you weren't sure it had even been there.

"Ay, I'd rather have stayed at work then," interjected Gimli as he slid a few bills to Aragorn and exchanged them for a road, "Seeing Las shitfaced is not a pretty sight" He laughed, though Legolas rolled his eyes.

"Or seeing him in general," you interjected. Again all your bones vibrated at Thranduil's laughter.

Then a dull pain ran through you and, gasping, you looked under the table where Legolas was just pulling his leg back. "You little shit!" you gasped, but the blonde only stuck his tongue out at you.

"My Lady," Aragorn slid the dice to you, probably just in time before Legolas and you erupted into another discussion.

"I'll be in the living room in the meantime if anyone is looking for me. And please," Thranduil's tone made you tilt your head back in your neck so you could look up at him. He looked at one after the other of you "it would be very nice if I didn't run into another one of you half-naked in the morning," he spoke and his eyebrows shot up at Gimli who promptly toasted him with the bottle.

"Of course, Mr. O! In the future, I will not present Mother Nature's gifts until lunchtime."

Thranduil rolled his eyes with a grin and turned away from your group.

In the corner of your eye, you followed him, watching as he disappeared around the corner to the living room.

The room remained silent, music extracted, and as you looked to your friends, you heaved a sigh. "Can we please not talk about this?"

"I don't know what about," Gimli asked, looking to Legolas "Do you know what she might mean Las?"

Legolas shook his head, one shoulder raised "I haven't the faintest idea. Aragorn?"

"Can't think of anything."

Grateful and relieved, you smiled at your boys.

"It's not like it's a big deal that your so down bad for my dad," Legolas interjected as casually as if he wasn't throwing your biggest secret into the room.

A room that was adjacent to the living room.

Your blood ran hot and hold.

"Legolas!" you hissed and paid him back with a well-deserved kick under the table.

Your heart was pounding up to your throat, Thranduil was sitting right there, next door, and Legolas was running his mouth? What was he thinking?

"What?"

"Are you fucking serious right now?"

Unbothered, Legolas threw another gummy worm into his mouth, "C'mon, it's true."

"Oh my god, sure. He.. he shouldn't, no he can't know it though!"

To your surprise, Legolas giggled, "You can't make this up, guys," and Gimli joined in with laughter; even Aragorn hid his laughter behind a hand.

It seemed like you were out of the loop as if the joke had sailed right past you.

The only way the situation could have worsened was if Thranduil had emerged from the living room to share a laugh with the guys about whatever you had clearly overlooked.

Yeah, that would be the tip of the evening, Thranduil laughing in your face over the stupid crush you had.

"Oh, my dear friend," Aragorn leaned over to you, patting your thigh affectionately, "Someday, when you stop putting yourself in the way, you will finally see how the tides can turn."

Your eyebrows shot up questioningly, "Aragorn, I love you, you know that? But no more riddles, no more dallying. Let's just finish this game before I scream."

"Like we're the ones dilly-dallying around," you heard Legolas mutter into his bottle, but you didn't have the motivation to bring up the subject again, and with a roll of the dice you threw everyone else back into action as well.

taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds @mssuguru @solartoge