#a mile is like...17 min maybe.

[docholligay]

The fun thing about one of you being from the south and one from the Frigid North is that you get into spats about whether or not the individual from the Frigid North (me) should walk to the volunteer thing she's doing (about a mile), even though the winter one owns MANY MANY MILITARY WOOL ITEMS.

[f1daydreamers]

𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏]

gif credits: @u-u-piastri81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Oscar is a visitor at your first art exhibition – not exactly his scene – but it's one that he contributed to financially to help you out, an upcoming artist he's taken a bit of a liking to.

Warnings: criticism but not always constructive, fluff, Reader and Oscar being cute, this man in a suit (audience may faint from the gifs), angst, maybe Oscar is a little out of character but I just upped his rizz by a solid 20% because I love him but he's way too shy to do any of this methinks :)

A/N: I know nothing about this profession icl but I got major black tie and exclusive event vibes from the gifs so this is what came out of it. I did a ton of research to make sure it wasn't too unrealistic but experience beats knowledge so if you guys read any things that need some correction, lmk!

Yeah, I never expected this to be so long but once I got to writing, I couldn't stop so hey, enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k words (17 mins reading time avg)

…

Safe to say, this wasn’t Oscar’s scene.

Standing among collectors, art enthusiasts, curators, and industry professionals meant feeling a little out of place was a tad understated.

But he wanted to be here tonight. Of course, being invited is one thing but accepting the invitation comes with a whole new world of formalities he hadn’t prepared for.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, busy greeting and socialising with what looked like a few critics and journalists.

The notebooks in their hands were a dead giveaway but your hand drumming on your leg was another. You were anxious.

Oscar took a sip of his drink, the one he was offered when he received an entry pass coming through the venues' doors. He knew how much this evening meant to you, both in the months of planning and the dreams that preceded it.

Initially, the idea seemed farfetched, but as you dove straight into creating the collection, photographing it, staying up late to create statements that wholly captured the essence of your creative process, the once exciting prospect of submitting it to a gallery felt somewhat dissatisfying.

In a few conversations with Oscar, you’d shared your aspirations of seeing your portfolio bask in the limelight. However, the reality of organising a self-funded exhibition in a rented space would blow your budget out of the water.

You don’t know at what point but he’d made the decision to donate a significant sum of money to your artist fund, covering a major portion of the exhibition's expenses.

It helped you realise all those curious questions about possible venues, dates, and basic costs weren’t just to fuel his enthusiasm, but to sincerely offer his support.

You were grateful beyond what words could describe, and the least you could do was ask him to be here today.

You were nervous partially because you had critics and community leaders alike wandering around the space, conversing about your work you’d spent years dedicating blood, sweat and tears to.

But you were also nervous because he was here tonight.

Even if you’d drawn a squiggly line on a blank canvas, Oscar would marvel at it like it was the most beautiful thing on this planet, but tonight was when he was finally seeing your work in all its completion.

He brought your vision to life and the last thing you wanted to do was make him think his investment was a waste.

Last you’d checked, you hadn’t seen his brown wavy hair anywhere around the venue, his innocent smile playing on your mind even when you were entranced in conversation with fellow artists.

You stepped in front of a painting no one else currently seemed to be trained on, focusing on inhaling and exhaling your breaths, fidgeting with your fingers by your sides.

Tonight, was the most important day of your career by a mile.

“Excuse me.” Someone spoke up behind you and you inhaled a deep breath before whisking around to greet them. But your eyes grew soft, and your smile grew amicably at the man glancing downwards back at you.

“Do you know where I could find the host of the evening?” He asked, his smile mirroring yours, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

"Oscar," you breathed out, and the F1 driver had to force himself to disregard the palpable sense of relief that accompanied the utterance of his name.

The way it effortlessly rolled off your tongue, it left him wanting to hear you say it repeatedly.

“You made it.” He nodded his head, “I did.” Initially, he had doubts about attending, but considering the venue was conveniently located close to his hotel near Silverstone and his flight to Budapest wasn't until Monday evening, he managed to find the time to come.

You drew in a breath, "you look good." Your compliment was genuine, whenever you'd met up with Oscar or came across photos on Instagram, he was either in racing gear or in casual outfits. To see him in a suit was different. A good different.

"Thanks. Pretty sure I should be counting my breaths though." You chuckle as he looks down at himself, the shirt was a little smaller than he would've liked.

A testament to how life in Formula 1 was like and that his neck size had grown exponentially.

"Each one could be your last," you joked, adding on and he nodded.

"Exactly." His laugh culminated into a final chuckle, melting into a warm smile.

When you looked away, seeing the waiters you'd hired tonight refilling cups as people wandered around, Oscar took the opportunity to let his eyes drag over your figure.

"You look beautiful," his compliment drew a smile from you.

You briefly cast your gaze downward before lifting it to his chest then finally up to his eyes. "Thank you, Oscar."

He responded only with a curt nod; his eyes trained on your face before he tore them away to have a look around him.

"How's it going?"

You hummed, thinking about your answer. "It's okay. There's a few paintings that are getting lots of attention, others a little less."

"Did you expect that?" He asked and you reasoned, you knew when you began this collection that people would naturally gravitate more towards some pieces anyway, that's the advice you were given everywhere you went.

"Yeah, I'd be lying if I said I didn't." Oscar took a sip of some liquid courage before pointing at the painting you'd just been standing in front of with the rim of his glass.

"I like this one." You turned as he took steps towards it, his shoulder grazing yours. "This is the last one." You mentioned as he skimmed over the statements planted on the wall next to the artwork.

"I think it's an elderly couple, and the mirrors all around them are portals into a specific memory of their relationship." He said undisputedly. You look up at him, your mouth parting slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, how did you figure that out so quickly?"

"It's almost like you were brainstorming ideas to me on call a few months ago." You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately impressed by his memory.

He hadn't spoken much during that phone call, so you'd assumed he wasn't paying much attention to your endless rambles.

"I never realised you were actually listening." You softly said and Oscar turned his head to look at you.

"Every word." He reassured, and a warm feeling encompassed your chest at his affirmation.

His gaze traced over the painting once more. While he had never hesitated to express his belief in your talent, seeing your artwork displayed in such a way stirred a whirlwind of emotions inside of him.

He was proud of you and excited for you, knowing that you had undertaken this journey for your own sake, garnering an array of artistic admirers. It's no mean feat to organise an event like this, take a risk so early on in your career.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you." You snap him out of his thoughts, turning your body towards him, standing a few feet away.

Oscar mimicked your movements, turning so he was facing you, and placed his now empty glass on a bar tray that a waiter had extended to him, refusing a refill.

"Why do you think you need to repay me? Remember, it was a donation." He said matter-of-factly. You let out a sigh.

Despite his repeated assurances that he expected nothing in return, you couldn't shake off the feeling of indebtedness that lingered in your thoughts.

You found yourself dwelling on the late-night conversations, wondering if your eagerness to discuss your plans had inadvertently conveyed desperation.

Your gaze drops and without hesitation, he reaches his hand out and gently slots it into yours, his thumb caressing over your skin in a soothing gesture. Your heart skips a beat or two, the warmth of his hand was relieving.

"This is the best way you can repay me. Living the dream." He smiles and you nod, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His voice was a calming anchor amid your thoughts.

"I'll never forget how you made it possible though," a small smile graced your lips, and he let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, you never miss a chance to mention it," he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement. You playfully rolled your eyes, a good-natured sigh escaping you as you did.

Oscar's hand retreated to his side, and a subtle longing for his touch flickered within you. Nevertheless, you mask it with a smile that grew as you exchanged a couple more jokes.

...

He courteously held the door ajar, giving a nod to a man entering the bathroom who appeared to appreciate the gesture. Letting the door close behind him, Oscar took out his phone to check the time.

Absentmindedly, he began scrolling through his notifications: a mix of sports updates, a message from his mum, one from Mark. Yet, none seemed particularly urgent.

Just as he was about to tap on one of the notifications, his attention was drawn upward to the sound of your voice.

You were engaged in conversation with a man, his journal held in his hands, and sunglasses perched atop his head. Oscar's gaze briefly went back to his phone screen; he made no overt effort to eavesdrop.

Despite this, fragments of your conversation found their way to his ears anyway.

"I must say, your work is quite disappointing. The lack of technical skill is evident in every piece." Oscar's eyebrows furrow as he observes openly, a marked departure from his earlier disinterested demeanour.

You clear your throat as you try to collect yourself, bringing your fingers up to your mouth to hide your quivering lip.

You had previously cautioned yourself that not everyone will like your work, but experiencing such candid criticism directly was far more destructive than you could have expected.

"Um, okay. What sort of things did you not like about it?" You asked, trying to find some sort of valuable insight from such a respected critic in your community.

"The colours are garish and clash horribly. It's clear that you have no understanding of colour theory or composition." You nod, gathering some form of strength to just take his words on the chin but you were failing rather miserably. Your stomach was sinking, and your eyes were watering slowly.

"It's a shame that your efforts have resulted in such subpar creations." Your jaw tightens and as you scramble for the right words to respond with in your mind, a hand presses into your lower back from behind.

"Excuse me. I want to purchase a piece, but I can't seem to find your sales assistant." The accent is unmistakable, and you muster a smile as you turn to face him.

"I'll help you." Your voice is unsteady, your emotions deflated.

"Thank you," Oscar responds, though his gaze carries a hint of concern. He moves to follow you but before he can do so, the critic extends his hand to grasp his arm, waiting until he's certain you're out of earshot.

"Coming from a collector, don't bother." He smirks, his conviction clear. Yet, the F1 driver's face remains impassive.

"Sorry, I don't remember asking you. Now, if you don't mind." He looks down at the grip on his arm, his fist clenching by his side. The critic seems taken aback at the blank expression looking back at him, devoid of any gratefulness.

He swallows before loosening his grip.

Oscar rounds the pillar just as you press down on the handle to the fire door exit at the distant end.

He contemplates whether he should grant you some space, but he wonders if doing so will only make matters worse.

Pausing briefly, he contemplates his choices before deciding to make his way toward the fire exit anyway. His hand firmly grasps the handle, and he proceeds to push open the door.

With your back turned towards him, you're unaware of his presence. Your palms are pressed against your face as a means of stifling your sniffles hence the closing of the door registers faintly, the sound hardly penetrating your thoughts.

It's only when the crunching of gravel beneath someone's shoes reaches your ears that you realise you're no longer alone. But oddly, you know there's only one person who it could be.

The combination of embarrassment, distress, and sheer exhaustion was what left you feeling so overwhelmingly emotional.

Aware that you don't want Oscar to witness you in this state, you quickly swipe at your cheeks, hastily erasing any traces of tears from your face.

You whisk around, smiling up at him and nodding your head. "I'm good Os. It's not always going to be a perfect score, right?" His heart swells at the nickname you called him, very few people did so, but hearing it from you felt special in a way.

"He's a dick," the F1 driver bluntly responds, his tone carrying a hint of anger.

You chuckle softly, but the sigh that follows is slightly shaky. A wave of heaviness crashes over you again as the critic's hurtful words echo in your mind, your stomach sinking in response.

Oscar picks up on the shift of emotion and his eyes soften at your teary and lowering expression.

Without a word, he opens his arms and pulls you into an embrace. You don't resist; instead, you bury your face in his shoulder, your shoulders trembling as silent tears escape your eyes.

His arms encircle you tightly, offering a comforting refuge as your emotions spill over again.

His chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the rhythm providing you with some comfort despite how irritated you're getting at yourself for letting one conversation bother you this much.

As he holds you, his chest aches both for your vulnerability and the anger he feels towards the critic who provoked it. You reluctantly pull away after a minute or so, a mixture of gratitude and sadness in your eyes.

But in the moment, you can't help but feel that the money he donated for the exhibition might have gone to waste, that your efforts fell short.

Disappointing your clients is business but disappointing him felt personal, he was the reason you even had a chance to do this, and it'd turned out horribly.

"I let you down," you say quietly, and Oscar's eyebrows knit together as he studies your expression.

"How? Every piece I love, Y/N." He responds, placing his hand on your forearm, his touch warm. It sends a flurry of goosebumps over your skin which you're sure he would've picked up on considering his attention to detail.

He positions his index finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes which you do. Your legs suddenly feel like they're incapable of keeping you upright, your face warming under his gaze.

"You didn't let me down." He whispers.

Oscar's concern remains palpable as his hand doesn't fall back to his side. His eyes hold a depth of emotion, the colours in his eyes becoming more distinct.

The connection that you can sense increases, and it's as if the unspoken understanding between you becomes more profound in that moment.

His cologne surrounds you but it's his gaze that flickers to your lips, a fleeting but unmistakable gesture. You realise that he's leaning in closer and there's a fraction of a second when it feels like the world around you fades.

The possibility of his lips meeting yours feels tantalisingly close.

But just as the moment deepens, you're both interrupted by one of the assistants, their voice breaking through the charged atmosphere.

"Sorry," the assistant interjects, sounding somewhat hurried. "There're a few clients waiting to speak with you Y/N."

Oscar slowly pulls back; he tucks in his bottom lip between his teeth and his expression shifts from one of intimacy to one of polite neutrality.

He offers you a subtle smile, the connection lingering between you even as the assistant's words redirect your attention.

"Of course," you reply, your voice steady despite quite the hurricane of emotions storming inside of you. You look to the assistant, ready to face the responsibilities of the exhibition once again. As you move away, you steal a glance at him, his gaze locked onto you for a moment longer before he nods.

That damned connection between you and Oscar remains, but now only punctuated by unspoken possibilities.

...

"Thank you, ma'am." you say with a warm smile as the elderly woman clasps your hand, offering kind words about your artwork while draping her shawl over her shoulders.

Once she'd left, you looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the space. Oscar had left a while ago considering he was on a flight tomorrow to Budapest.

Though a tinge of disappointment lingered within you, you understood and bid him goodnight.

You wrapped up a little later than you would've liked, a couple of your pieces had sold so you had to coordinate transport for them.

For the remaining few, you'd wrapped them up, gathered the papers for each one before loading them into the van to have them delivered back to your studio.

Oscar eventually made it back to the space he'd rented on Airbnb, staying in a hotel for a week definitely wasn't something he was fond of doing, a neatly packaged box of takeout planted on the small table.

He threw the crumpled paper bag into the bin and settled onto the couch, his phone in hand. He opened Instagram, scrolling through his feed to pass the time it'd take for him to get sleepy.

As he tapped through the stories, your profile picture caught his eye. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched it whole. The familiar scenes of the exhibition unfolded before him – videos capturing the venue, the artwork.

His gaze lingered on the art as if he hadn't been there tonight, his mind wandering into the world you had created. It wasn't just the work itself that interested him; it was the glimpse they offered into your mind, your perspective, and the emotions you poured into your work.

The admiration he felt for your creativity was intertwined with the growing fondness he was developing for you as a person.

Once you'd reached home, you dropped on to the couch with a sigh of relief that the day was done.

So, when your phone started vibrating besides you, you groaned and brought it up to your ear, not bothering to take a look at the caller ID.

"Y/N," you closed your eyes and waited for the other person to respond. They stuttered first before speaking up, "should I - should I reply with my name, or do we just get into the conversation?"

You lightly gasped, chuckling and straightening up on the couch. "Oscar, sorry. I'm still in work mode I think." You rubbed your forehead and the F1 driver poked through his food with a fork on the other end.

"No harm done. You back from the venue?" He asked and you stretched your legs out in front of you, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Yeah, only just. Perfect timing, Piastri." He smiled at your response, "I pride myself in that."

"I'm sure you do." You joked teasingly and fell back on the couch again. The similar onset of warmth and goosebumps from earlier bubbled up again inside of you.

"I thought you would've knocked out by now." Oscar hums, swallowing his food as he traps his phone between his ear and shoulder, throwing the now empty box on to the coffee table in front of him.

"Yeah well, I needed to eat. Luckily for me, there was a long queue at every takeaway place tonight." He retorted sarcastically and you scoffed, "typical London."

He agreed wordlessly before shifting his body horizontally, propping his head up on the armrest, his legs splaying over the leather sofa.

"What did you end up getting?" He made a humming sound as he reached for the receipt he'd tossed carelessly aside, bringing it up to eye level.

"Caribbean chicken curry." He said slowly, squinting to read the half-printed letters. Your stomach rumbling beneath you helped you remember that you too hadn't eaten for majority of the day. Your last meal was breakfast with a few snacks you always have on hand.

"Sounds good. I'd kill for some chicken curry right now." You mumble and Oscar's head turns to look up at the clock hung on the wall above the television.

"How 'bout I bring some?" He asks nonchalantly and your heart skips, you stutter in your response, glancing at the digital clock blinking at you from the corner table.

"You'd do that?" You say, a little more high-pitched than you would've preferred.

He smiles, refraining to say something corny. "Yeah, well I mean it's not my bedtime for another hour so..." He trails off thus leaving you to make the decision.

You don't even care about the food anymore, your stomach is doing somersaults from the mere thought of seeing him twice in one day.

"Only if it's alright with you. If you need to sleep, please sleep." You insist and there's a pause, you could swear you hear keys jangling on the other end of the phone before Oscar confirms.

"I'll be there in a bit."

...

You're changed into some slightly more flattering pyjamas than your regular animated giraffe ones when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you walk the length of the hallway and reach for the doorknob.

Giving it a couple of moments, you open the door to find Oscar standing there, a warm smile on his face that mirrors your own feelings.

He's holding a paper bag up and you smile, "my saviour. Come in."

He slides past you, toeing his trainers off and pushing them up to the wall so they weren't in the direct pathway, allowing you to lead him into the living room.

He places the bag on to your wooden dining table and you sigh in delight, the smell of the food faintly wafting out of it.

"How much do I owe you?" He shakes his head, letting you take the box out of the bag.

"Only your eternal gratitude," he replies, his lips curving into a smile as he takes in the sight of your light expression, your eyes lit with appreciation.

"You already have that." You chuckle.

Eventually, you begin eating, all the while holding a conversation. With each passing minute, a subtle worry creeps in - that he might decide to leave soon. Not that you're against him getting his rest, but your own enjoyment of his company is growing stronger by the second.

The idea of the evening ending prematurely becomes less and less appealing. The warmth of his presence, the humour in his words, the hesitance you initially felt about him leaving transformed into a silent plea for him to stay, at least a little longer.

"I'm going to go up and use the bathroom, head over to the couch, make yourself comfortable." You insist and Oscar nods. His feelings he was aware of when he reached back to his place had tripled since he'd got here.

His leg had been bouncing the entire duration he'd been talking, he was nervous but albeit not understandably. He'd visited your place a few times now, he'd known you for nearly a year.

Nothing about the fluttery sensation in his belly, the excitement prior to seeing you, the attraction, the thoughtfulness, made any sense to him.

But at the same time, they made perfect sense. He likes you. A whole lot.

Realising he was getting a bit warm, he pulled the hoodie over his neck to reveal just a plain white tee underneath.

Tossing it on to the dining room chair he was previously sat on, he plops on to the couch, bringing the calf of his right leg up to rest on the knee of his left, his arm outstretching on the back of the couch.

You eventually return, having brushed your teeth since the aftertaste of the curry wasn’t a very pleasant one in your mouth.

“Do you piss for that long?" Oscar asks curiously, locking his phone and sliding it on to the table.

You scoff and feign offence as you sit next to him just a few inches away. "I don't actually, even if I did, what's it to you?" You tease and he shrugs, his lower arm draping off the couch casually, his fingertips brushing close to your shoulder.

"I was bored," he admits, his explanation falling a bit flat.

You raise an eyebrow, a mockingly sympathetic expression on your face. "Poor Oscar, suffering from boredom in my humble abode. My heart aches for you." He smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at your antics.

His eyes sparkle with amusement, "Well, I must say your empathy is truly heartwarming."

"That's just me, a paragon of compassion," you quip, a mischievous glint in your eyes. His proximity has your heart racing, and you're acutely aware of the playful tension that's building between you.

He tilts his head, his gaze holding yours as he leans in slightly. "You know, I was half expecting you to beg for my forgiveness."

You roll your eyes, your gaze locked on to his, you didn't mean for them to glance down to his lips, but it didn't skip past his notice either.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and the silence that followed afterwards definitely gave Oscar enough time to be able to pick up on it.

"Please forgive me Oscar, please?" You reduce your words to a whisper and he smiles, refusing to waste another second and he instantly ducks his head to catch your lips in a fervent kiss.

His actions catch you off guard, the sensation electrifying and sending a jolt of surprise through your system.

Your thoughts scatter as the world seems to narrow down to the point of contact between your lips. The kiss is eager and filled with a mixture of longing and curiosity, as if both of you have been dancing around this moment for far too long.

Your heart continues racing, and time feels suspended as his touch sends shivers up and down your spine.

The sudden intimacy of it all is exhilarating, and you find yourself responding without hesitation, your fingers instinctively finding their way to his arm, your body moving a fraction closer to his.

A soft moan escapes you, and Oscar slides his hand beneath your top, pressing his palm against your waist. A squeeze of your skin hints at you to move back slightly, creating the room needed for him to push you down on to your back.

Your lips detach for a moment as he positions himself over you, lowering his head seconds later to press them together again.

His face was level with yours when he eventually pulled away to catch his breath, and let you catch yours, his arm propping him up besides your head.

"Isn't it your bedtime?" He chuckles softly, his fingers toying with a few strands of your hair.

"I'll just have to use the plane's naptime feature." You laugh, bringing your hand up to push his hair out of his eyes.

His gaze flickers across your face, capturing the traces of your faint smile lines and the tiny beauty mark adorning your skin.

He leans in, planting a tender kiss on the mole. Meanwhile, your fingertips journey to the nape of his neck, exploring the contours of his hair.

He grins boyishly when he picks his head up again. "I think I could stay here forever," he admits, his voice a soft confession.

You playfully raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? What if the plane's naptime feature gets jealous?"

He chuckles, a low, melodious sound. "Well, I guess it'll just have to deal with a bit of competition," he remarks before his lips find yours once again.

...

Masterlist

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

Just a rumour!

Shortly after the start of The 152nd Open at Royal Troon Club in South Ayrshire, SH was seen making and shooting the “hotel highball” cocktail in his room at The Gleneagle Hotel, in Perthshire, resulting in a chaotic experience 😂 You can always use a tripod! But you never put it on another sofa you always have other options.

The people immediately raised questions about the purpose of his visit to the Highlands. It's unclearn whether he came to The Gleneagle Hotel as part of a package for 3 nights B&B at The Gleneagles Hotel, which included rounds at Gleneagles Courses and Thursday & Sunday tickets to the 152nd Open at Royal Troon, (around 1 hr 28 min (81 mi) between The Gleneagles Hotel to the Royal Troon Club) despite he is not a golf enthusiast, like his friends, or if he just came for a relaxing weekend stay at the hotel. There were even rumours that he came to see the golfer Hayden Sylte, now Founder, and Perfumist. I couldn't help but laugh at the far-fetched rumours that this was SH’s reason to visit the hotel. Indeed, the theory seemed bizarre.

Regardless, if he did come to see the final at The Open, I hope he enjoyed it. There is no evidence to suggest any relationship between SH and the golfer, who was at the hotel around the same time and also visited The Royal Troon to watch The Open. Without any photos, videos or concrete posts, these are simply baseless speculations.

She was a photoshoot for the Morris fragrance her newest aroma advert in St. Andrews, for Her business called ‘On and Off The Course’ which focuses on fragrance. Very opportunist name remembering Tommy Morris considered one of the pioneers of professional golf and the first young prodigy in golf history, but no one saw SH with her at the Old Course at St Andrews the home of golf ⛳

Hayden has been in Scotland this July for the International Pro-AM tournament event for individual golfers, club professionals, and amateurs, which took place from 8-11 July at the Gleneagle Hotel.

She was also a visitor at @theopen and stayed this week around Royal Troom and played there during the first days on the track between 14-17 July before officially the Open Championship at Royal Troon started 18-21 July.

Hayley has been visiting Scotland since March of this year to shoot an advert for her new fragrance. Meanwhile, SH has been seen in embarrassing situations in London, which didn't reflect well on him, adding to his confusion, based on these recent sightings, revealing SH’s side that no longer he can hide, Any woman with even a small amount of intelligence, self-esteem, and self-respect would think twice before start thinking about him. Therefore, there is no evidence to suggest that SH and HS have any relationship beyond a possible friendship in case they have met at any moment in particular. But it takes all sorts to make a world.

So, briefly: around the week of July 9th, Hayden finished a photo shoot for her newest fragrance in St. Andrews. In the following days, she was at Gleneagles Hotel for the Pro-AM event. The next week, she went to the Royal Troon in Ayrshire. Maybe SH accompanied her since he had nothing else to do. She was seen playing golf alone at the Royal Troon Club. Who knows? If you want more details, you should ask him, but I hope he enjoyed watching the final at The Open and seeing the silver Claret Jug trophy! 😂

SH’s hotel highball” cocktail was posted on the 19th of July. However, it is possible that SH arrived at the Gleneagle Hotel before this date for the Pro-AM event and then published the cocktail event later to avoid suspicion since the dates coincided. If there was any encounter with the golfer, it was brief. Hayden returned to St. Andrews and left the Fairmont St Andrews hotel and supposedly back home today Tuesday, the 23rd, or to St Andrews town (Fairmont St Andrews golf ⛳ is situated 2 miles (3.2 km) outside the town of St. Andrews in Fife) Based on her Instagram photos, she was alone.

By the way, last but not least. It's important to note that SH was not in St. Andrews during the 150th anniversary event in 2022, as some people believe. The presentation discussed the special coverage of the "Home of Golf" for @abcnetwork and @peacocktv, but it was not broadcast live. Let's set aside SH's misleading information.

In golf, the advice is to "hit the shot you know you can hit, not the one you think you should."

Posted 23rd July 2024 ⛳

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 17

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 Word Count: 2257 (average 17 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, homophobia, fantasy racisms. All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

Altan POV

It was two, maybe three miles of walking in the dim torchlight through the underground path before we noticed the compact dirt and mud slowly transition to rock and stone. We started to recognize that the tunnel was leading us to some kind of cave. The walls became jagged, not uniform and smoothed down like the dirt. The walls were slick with damp and I felt my shoes struggle to stay balanced.

Drunrag’s hands were immediately on mine as he led me delicately through the uneven parts. His eyes were keen and I knew he could see better in the dark than I could. And it showed as he stepped carefully and purposefully, and I did my best to leap behind him and land where he landed. 

The cave widened and we found that the mouth of the cave was cleverly concealed behind foliage. There was a sound of rushing water and we quickened our pace to follow it. 

Drunrag pulled the foliage back and I stepped through and waited for him to follow. Everything was difficult to see during the night, but it looked as if the entrance of the cave opened just below a bridge that crossed over a small, steady stream that ran off from the river we could hear. There wasn’t enough water to reach the mouth of the cave  and we were able to quickly scramble through the rocks and pebbles to get onto soft land. 

Drunrag threw the torch into the river and watched as the light fizzled and died out. He took a hold of my hand and said softly. “I can see enough to lead us on.”

I trusted him with complete complicity and I squeezed his hand in return.

“Do you need to rest?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Let’s go.” I answered.

I didn’t know what time it was, but I could make a guess that we were approaching the peak of night. Everything was dark and I found myself holding onto Drun’s hand like a vice. I had read once that orc’s made great hunters thanks to their ability to see well in the dark. A perk to having an orc for a partner, I thought wryly. 

“How far are we?” I asked. “From the city?”

Drun looked around, I couldn’t see much of his features, no more than a shadow in the dark, but I could see the whites of his eyes as he observed our surroundings. “We look to be just a half mile from the gates.”

“That’s not far enough.” I breathed. “The guards are probably on horseback and will gain on us in little time. At least we have the shadow of night as our advantage. Do you see anywhere we can hide ourselves?” 

I was able to catch my breath as Drunrag planned our route. Even with everything happening, I couldn’t stop myself from exulting in some small way at that moment. My hand was being held by one who I had spent the last few months literally dreaming about. I knew we weren’t totally free yet, there was still so much risk, but I felt something strong and pounding inside me telling me how right this all was. I didn’t doubt or regret choosing this over a comfortable life.

“This way.” He said softly and he began to pull me through the darkness. “I see a copse of trees over there.”

We walked swiftly, yet quietly. I knew I was holding Drun back, that I was the slow one in the group, but he said nothing and he kept his hand on mine and never let go. The grass was dry and brittle and even with our careful steps rustled and crumbled loudly beneath our feet. Every so often, I would find myself looking back, waiting to see a line of torchlight pursuing us and every moment I didn’t see it, I grew more worried.

We rested in the dark cover of the trees and gathered ourselves before moving on to our next destination. Drun’s attention was tuned in to everything around us. I could hear him sniff the air and adjust our course to avoid something only he knew about. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. He was so good at being worried for me. I felt warm every time he asked me.

I nodded. “Fine.”

“We should only rest for a moment here,” He said, his eyes looking at the town behind us. “I’m nervous still being so close. We should go as far as we can and take a long rest when there is some distance between us. Perhaps at dawn.”

Dawn. That was still likely hours away from now. I let out a breath. 

I saw him shift to look at me again, “Will you manage?”

“I will. I have to.” I answered, determined. I adjusted the pack on my shoulders and rose to my feet. It was laughable how even as I stood at my full height, Drunrag managed to reach my shoulders sitting. I still wasn’t used to how large, how massive he was. He probably could carry me if he wanted. The thought of it was tempting.

I brushed the thoughts aside and changed the subject, “Do you have somewhere in mind we should go?”

“North.” He answered, I detected a touch of reluctance in his voice as he said it. “My family would be able to provide us asylum. They live in the Fields of the Dead.”

A pleasant name for a stretch of land, but it was the unfortunate burial ground for hundreds of soldiers from centuries worth of battles and conflicts throughout our history. I remembered hearing stories of the undead that would rise and wander through the fields. How the soil smells of blood. I wondered how or why a tribe of orcs would find themselves living there, but I dared not ask questions. The idea of seeing Drunrag’s family was something I had never considered. I had foolishly made the assumption that there was little contact between them. I sensed the anxiety it caused Drunrag to take us there, and I couldn’t help but feel a similar sense of dread at the idea of it.

“Oh.” I responded. “Will…will we be safe there?”

“They would be wise to not touch you.” His voice was heavy and low and it made my body shiver as I felt the possessiveness of those words. 

“What about you?” I asked.

There was not an answer for a long while and I worried that I had asked the wrong question.

“I can handle my family.” He finally answered.

I hoped what he said was true, because I still felt a pit in my stomach at the thought of having to face them down.

We let the silence settle as we adjusted our packs, caught our breath and stretched, only it ended quickly when Drun grabbed my arm suddenly and hissed, “The gates are opening, we need to leave.”

I whirled around and saw the faint dim specks of torchlight in the distance and felt my heart begin to pulse loud and pounding inside me. 

Hand in hand, we set out in the field. I was once again blind in the night and let Drunrag guide us through. He would shift our direction every so often and he often looked back to assess our pursuers. We were traveling once again in open fields. In daylight such a thing would spell our doom, but in the thick of night with little moonlight, we were safe, hopefully long enough to find cover.

My breath was all I could hear as I did my best to keep astride with Drunrag. I knew he was slowing down for me, but even still my legs were starting to scream at me for rest after having run this much already. I didn’t pull back though, instead I gritted my teeth and pressed on. 

“They’re gaining on us.” Drunrag said between breaths. “We’ll need to find cover soon.”

We picked up speed and I started to feel like I was being dragged behind him. 

“Here.” He said and we were suddenly taking a sharp turn and climbing up a small slope until we were resting against large protruding rocks. They were chill to the touch and I pressed my cheek against it. Drun then enveloped himself around me, I felt his broad chest against my back, heaving slow, steady breaths. His arms were on either side of me, pulling me tightly to him. I let myself be held as he pressed us against the rock and we both held still and waited. 

I did my best to still my breathing, but I was still winded from running. Now that I was pulled into Drun’s embrace, my cheek was pressed against his chest and I felt the even rise and fall of his breathing. I could see hardly anything except the arm that was around my front that helped me to stay right next to him and then the dim view of the fields below us, a large dark blanket of shadow with no shape or form. I burrowed closer to him and I felt his chin rest above my head and he squeezed me tightly to him.

We heard the pounding of hooves and  from my limited perspective, I caught sight of four separate torches emitting light across the field. They looked to be at least a half mile away from us, so I couldn’t recognize anyone from where we were. 

My body was stock still and unmoving as I watched between Drun’s arms. The men were spread out, circling around and advancing forward. Their horses were light on their feet and danced across the field from one side to the other, covering distance in only a few seconds.

Drun turned his head away from them and buried his head into me. We held still, so still. My heart was out of control inside me, begging that we live through this, that we get through this night. 

I closed my eyes, a prayer on my lips to protect us, oh great gods preserve us.

“Not here!” A voice called. It sounded like it had only been a few yards away. I felt the twitch and flex in Drun’s body at the sound of it and he gripped me tighter. I heard the pounding of the hooves fade off as they returned back to the team and they continued on. 

We each were frozen for a time before I felt Drun’s muscles relax  and he pulled away only slightly.

“What now?” I barely breathed the words out loud.

“We wait.” He answered. 

We didn’t speak, we didn’t even so much as look at each other as we sat in the horrid dark of night. The sounds of the guards in pursuit were fading.

I started to lift my head to look out when Drun pressed me closer to his chest. “Not yet.” He hissed. “There could be more.”

I held back and I let myself be held. Drun’s body was warm, his chest damp with sweat. Under normal circumstances I might have found that to be a sensual thing…but I barely registered it at that moment as I held my breath. 

I didn’t know how much time passed, only that my body ached and certain parts felt numb before, I shifted and shuffled and stretched until I was facing him and I leaned my back against the wall. I kept my hands up to my chest. I felt his arms adjust around me and pulled me safely into his chest. 

“Where do you think they are? Still searching?”

“Most likely. I can smell them nearby,” he said. “We can’t accept the risk of continuing our travel if they're still out there.”

“So.” I started, “We wait?”

I felt his head nod against the side of my head. 

I took in a deep, long breath and took in Drun’s scent. It was a manly smell - mostly sweat now, but I noticed the underlying reminiscent scent of Doxxah’s bakery and then an even more permanent smell of earth and ash on him, reminding me of when I first met him on the sunny day on the coast, dressed to work in the hot fires of the forge. 

I jerked back when I also caught a faint whiff of something sweet, more fragrant. “Is that…cologne I smell?”

I wish I could have seen his face as I heard the bashfulness in his voice. “Doxxah helped me.”

I leaned in and took in another long breath, “It’s…it’s nice. Kind of fruity. I think it suits you.”

I felt him tense and he shivered.

I lifted my head up. “Are you alright?”

“Tickles.” He answered.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I didn’t realize until then how my nose was practically pressed into his collarbone. I moved to adjust myself, but his arms didn’t let up.

“Don’t. I don’t mind.” He said, his lips were just above my ears and I felt the vibration of his voice. I too shivered in response.

We held each other there and I found myself struggling to keep my eyes opened and my mouth would open wide with a long, drawn out yawn. 

“You may sleep, if you want.” He said, “I’ll keep watch.”

I blinked and shook my head, “I’m okay, I’ll stay up.”

“Orcs are built to endure.” He said. “You need rest.”

I knew he was right, but I was feeling so helpless at that moment. I opened my mouth to protest when I felt a hand on the back of my head. He cradled it tenderly and whispered in my ear. “Nod Merad, sleep.”

I didn’t know what the words meant, but he said them with such gentleness, it was soothing and kind. I didn’t know that orcish could be gentle, and I closed my eyes wondering what other gentle words I would someday hear from him.

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@eltrolodecadadia

[btsqualityy]

Okay. I don’t know why but I like the three amigos! Pooks, Miles and Junior! I know Pooks is 6 years older than Junior. Is Pooks a year older than Miles? I’m asking because Mama Min had Pooks when Kinsley was 16. Mama Kim had Miles when Mason was 17. So they are a year apart? Maybe even 2 years apart because Mason could of been turning 18 at the time. So Miles is about 3-4 yers older than Junior? Right? Lol! I don’t know why I like knowing ages. Thank you Shay!

Miles is 5 years older than Junior 😌

[businessconsiderations]

4.5 mi

9:03a, 72F, 75% humidity, sunny, 45:48, 10:07 min/mi pace

Abnormal running week for me, traveled to NJ for work Monday afternoon to Thursday evening, so did two of my runs on treadmills, one of them in the evening, the other 12 hours later in the morning.

My wife and daughter left Friday evening for a soccer tournament out of town, so my morning routine felt a little off when I got up for my long run, that is, I stayed up too late watching a movie in bed on Friday night, lied in bed too long on Saturday morning.

By the time I got moving, I realized I probably didn't have time to get 5 miles in before the boy's and I had to leave for my youngest's soccer game as we needed to hit the road by 10a. Plus, the it was hotter in the sun than the weather stats suggest.

I set out at my normal starting point a 3-min walk from my front door, ran to the end of Ekana, left on Lockwood, hit the one-mile mark near Seminole State, pace was 10:19, seemed right because I felt like I was moving very slowly. It was hot. The fact that I opted for Taylor Swift's new album as my running playlist wasn't helping my energy level either.

At this point I hadn't decided how far I'd go, still thinking about 3 or 4 miles. Turned left on old Lockwood, figuring I'd do 4. Kept the effort level the same, mile 2 was 10:10 pace. Somewhere around then I decided 4 was not enough but didn't want to feel crunched for time at home so 5 was too long. Figured I'd do 4.5.

I kept listening to melancholy Taylor Swift songs, turned right on Nak Nak Run, it's not gravel anymore, they paved it. The song about Florida featuring Florence + the Machine played during this stretch, I sort of liked that one, nothing else really stood out for me. Well, maybe the "But Daddy" song did too. I turned around at the 2.4-mile mark in the least graceful way possible, felt like I was starting my run over.

Left back on Old Lockwood, hit the 3-mile mark near the rear entrance of Hagerty High School, 10:17 pace, I was slowing down, which is fine for an easy pace run that felt good but his didn't, this felt too slow, this is not working, Taylor Swift had to go.

Switched to my current playlist and skipped until I found fast pace songs. "Runner" by RL Grime helped me, sometime after I turned right back on Lockwood, I hit the 4-mile mark, 10:00 pace.

Re-entered the neighborhood at Riviera, skipped to other fast-paced songs, turned right on Turnberry, immediate left on Ekana, hit the 4.5 mile mark shortly thereafter, 9:26 pace for that last half mile. Walked a few minutes home, no time to shower, changed into yesterday's clothes and headed to the soccer fields with my boys for a nice little Saturday.

[middleagerunblog]

XXXVIII.

Week 5 recap

Exercise:

Sun Jan 7 - 11:03a, hike on Little Big Econ Trail with my youngest son, 2 mi, 50 min

Mon Jan 8 - 6:01a, outdoors near home, 4 mi, 40:55, 10:12 pace

Tue Jan 9 - 6:02a, outdoors near home, intervals

Wed Jan 10 - 6:01a, outdoors near home, 3 mi, 30:33, 10:09 pace

Thu Jan 11 - rest

Fri Jan 12 - 6:04a, outdoors near home, 1 mi easy pace, 3 mi race pace with splits of 8:39/9:00/8:45, then half mile at easy pace

Sat Jan 13 - 8:25a, outdoors near home, 8 mi, 1:20:22, 10:02 pace

Diet:

I figured some things out this week but also failed in spots.

EGPA - 2.43, down from last week's 2.86, sight above Q1's 2.40 ... daily splits ... Sun C-, Mon A-, Tue B-, Wed B, Thu B, Fri C, Sat D

Alcohol wasn't the problem this week as I've stuck to red wine only for Jan before abstaining completely in Feb. Only 3 drinks all week, 1 on Sun, 2 on Fri.

I didn't weigh myself again this week. I want to lose weight, maybe I still can lose a few lb. before the race in March, but I'm 5 weeks in, 7 weeks to go, let's see this half marathon thing through and decide if I need to pivot to something more weight loss friendly in March.

The 38W jeans came in the mail and were absurdly big. I didn't take the tags off and will stick with 36W. Counting this a minor win.

Music:

Newer song I heard this week and liked - "Plastic" by Cheekface (2023)

Everything's in place now Do you like it? No matter what you don't like We can move it

Old song new to me I heard this week and liked - "Damaged Goods" by Gang of Four (1978)

The change will do you good I always knew it would

Old song I listened to the first time in a while this week - "Preaching The End Of The World" by Chris Cornell (1999)

Hello, I know there's someone out there who can understand And who's feeling the same way as me

Rereading:

Only reread two more chapter in Kafka on the Shore, 16 and 17. Johnnie Walker tell Nakata his crazy cat-killing/soul-taking/flute-building story and asks Nakata to kill him or else he'll keep murdering cats. Nakata doesn't quite understand what's going on but obliges and saves a couple cats.

Oshima picks up Kafka at the mountain cabin after a couple of days. On the drive back, Oshima invites Kafka to live and work at the library ands says all sorts of interesting things. One I've already blogged about, but in the spirit of continuing to progress on this reread, I'll just list the other two interesting quotes I highlighted without further commentary here:

"Reality's just the accumulation of ominous prophecies come to life."

"In everybody's life there's a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can't go forward any more. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept that fact. That's how we survive."

[cannoli-reader]

My notes watching Wheel of Time: Season 1, episode 3

Posted on readandfindout.com on 11/19/2021

4:00 – Not sure how I feel about Nynaeve using a weapon. Not that there’s anything wrong with it per se. But it’s just her thing, that she’s not a killer, but a Healer.

7:27 – By “you won’t” he meant “succeed” of course. Because Lan.

7:50 – Yes, Perrin is gone, too. Nice of you to remember.

9:30 – I kind of feel like it should be obvious to WoT Novices that the Dragon Reborn is probably not Perrin or Mat.

10:46 – Perrin was not nearly so sanguine ITB about Egwene’s channeling, and he should not have been, because that’s super dangerous as Verin points out in the next book, and Perrin’s deal is that he understands the dangers of things and grasps the importance of controlling power instead of using it. Because he’s really strong and waves heavy objects for a living and doesn’t want to hurt anyone. And also, the One Power is the reason for every single aspect of WoT that is worse than the Real World, so people are more afraid of it than anything.

I kind of feel like they don’t get this and think they are fixing Perrin here, by making him supportive.

11:15 – And Egwene wants to go back home to look for their friends, instead of heading to Tar Valon. Like or hate her, like or hate this aspect of her character, it’s a big deal for her! Hell, ITB, she was adamant about not delaying their journey to the Tower for even the slightest detour even after Elyas demonstrated how much better off they would be in his company. Perrin even went on an uncharacteristically sarcastic mini-rant about it.

12:45 – Nynaeve would never require coercion or pressure of any sort to heal someone who was sick or hurt, for any reason. That is her thing. It’s as much her thing as Egwene’s ambition or Perrin’s caution. She would never hold out Healing in order to pressure someone into doing what she wants.

14:25 – Why be coy about her tracking? ITB she offered an explanation of her skills unsolicited.

I just realized that maybe she was embarrassed ITB in Baerlon, because she actually was more subconsciously relying on the link to Egwene and did not want to admit she was actually following a feeling she could not explain. Which, in turn, might explain her reluctance to answer Lan. Except in this version, there is still no explanation of how she then found Lan and Moiraine, rather than being drawn in Egwene’s direction.

17:28 – I like the dream if it’s Baalzamon trying to make Perrin fear the wolves, otherwise, wolves in his dreams were protecting him from Baalzamon. And shouldn’t be eating his dead wife.

17:40 – I’m imagining those snarls are wolvish for “Damnit Young Bull, we’re trying to help! There’s food over…no, not that way! Crap, someone find Long Tooth to talk to these idiots.”

20:13 – I feel like maybe the show people don’t know what the point of those cage things actually is. They are intended to make people die of exposure, a long, slow suffering. Not to hoist them up as target practice. One of those cages whose occupant is riddled with arrows looks like he was mercy-killed.

20:30 – Is this Whitebridge or Baerlon? It’s got a bridge, but it’s kind of shabby and miney for the former.

21:14 - >resigned sigh< I’m half expecting Min to be winning a drinking contest in this place. TV writers being all super-original and whatnot.

21:43 – Thom?

22:00 – Okay, guitar.

22:21 – Is this good singing? I can’t tell.

23:55 – A song about how sad LTT is would not be something people in the Third Age would appreciate.

24:52 – Saw that coming a mile away. Hood dude was a clear and obvious Film Pickpocket, but if he managed to get Thom, I’d have shut the browser window. Thom picking HIS pocket was the only way to stay true to the character. Happily.

25:07 – Please don’t let “donation for the gleeman” become the new “Toss a coin for your Witcher”.

25:13 – So with that essential character service out of the way, we can go on with Thom taking advantage of two hard-up young men in over their heads, because his mercenary attributes and greed are a thing with him.

25:53 – “Aawooo! Seriously, Young Bull! You’re going in the wrong direction for hunting or water. Just hold up, Long Tooth isn’t far!”

28:09 – Careful, barmaid. In Rand’s experience, doing the dishes means sex.

Ah, good thing she’s setting him to chop wood. No innuendo or euphemisms there.

29:00 – They don’t use scatological profanity in WoT. How hard is it to stick with “bloody” and “burn me” and “blood and ashes”? What’s gained by having Mat say “shit” all the time.

29:59 – Or sexual profanity. Not least because that tends to have sexist connotations.

30:17 – There’s a reason why Rand is mentioned as taking off his coat when doing chores for his room and board. It’s confining and gets in the way, especially a long flappy one like he’s wearing. Would it be too much trouble for TV writers to ever do a little manual labor so they know these things? Anyone who’s ever split wood would feel that shot was wrong.

32:02 – What exactly are we getting out of this whole scene in the bar? Turns out this is Breen’s Spring, so it’s not like this is an important locale they need to establish.

32:28 – This is NOT Mat! Even with the dagger affecting him for much longer, even when it has him thinking Rand will abandon him if he can’t keep up, he still sticks with Rand, protects him when he’s weak and gets him food and shelter.

32:55 – I don’t think the locals know the barmaid so well because of enforced familiarity, but because she’s prone to blabbering to even a stranger she was belittling moments ago for being lazy and useless. This is Sanderson all over again. Jordan wrote a million characters. We don’t need all this screen time devoted to a useless original one who serves no purpose.

35:56 – This is, like, exactly the opposite of how the Tinkers are presented. Why would you ever trust these creepy people without an intermediary like Elyas vouching for them?

36:30 – They haven’t actually been welcomed to the Tinker camp, because the show thought it would be better to have them seem creepy and shocking, so you get zero points for sticking with the book dialogue.

36:59 – “You both look awful and this is being said by people who appear not to have washed our top-knot man-bun dreadlocks in forever.” Why is so much TV dialogue putdowns, insults or mockery, even, or especially, between friendly characters?

38:18 – It’s almost like Perrin and Egwene tucked into their food so emphatically because they really want to finish and get away from the most evil person from Downton Abbey and her husband, Taika Waititi.

38:42 – Yay. Took off his coat.

38:47 – See, this is what I mean. You can dig into the barmaid’s comments to infer that she’s impressed with Rand’s work ethic and output, but it’s all negative. First, she’s questioning why he’s working when she let Mat off an hour ago, then she’s ironically noting that he’s chopped enough wood for the next year and when he asks for confirmation that he’s done enough to earn food and shelter, her manner of agreement is as if she’s trying anything but to say, “yes, good job, thank you.”

39:28 – And she’s only being actually nice when she’s being a good LGBTQ ally. Because that’s the highest virtue. And they’re playing it for laughs, so it’s not even like this is being woke.

39:53 – WHY have Rand and Mat each exchanged more words with the bar woman than with Thom? Or maybe even each other since coming into this town? They might have spent more time with her, each, than Lan and Nynaeve have interacted.

40:02 to 40:16 – Lan sitting on his horse looking over a cliff. Why? You couldn’t have him just ride up to Nynaeve and Moiraine and say he found it?

43:06 – “Stop acting like a bloody white-veiled Aiel” doesn’t have the same ring to it. Thom knowing about Aiel honor also feels wrong.

44:20 – I like Thom kind of teaching Mat a moral lesson here and being a good example. He doesn’t get enough credit for that ITB.

45:19 – And we’re back to the barmaid. She had better be a Darkfriend at this point.

48:00 – Okay. Better, but predictable. And no, the braid doesn’t make you look like Egwene when you’re easily 50 pounds heavier than she is and the nose ring only highlights another proboscis-related difference.

48:30 – I suppose it would make sense for a gleeman to have some knowledge of Aiel customs, even if he didn’t bury the guy properly, but you’d think that with that knowledge would come questions or speculation as to what one was doing so far out of his homeland.

50:36 – Dana the Darkfriend.

52:24 – Predictable can be satisfying. There was no way this monologue was ending without Thom’s knife suddenly sticking out of her. But it’s only satisfying because she’s been so annoying and pointless and taking up too much of the episode, not because she is actually scary as a chubby woman in a bulky dress trying to hold off two fit men.

54:38 – Since when do Aes Sedai address each other as “(Name) Sedai”?

How did we get through the introduction of the Tinkers with no reference in the whole episode to the Way of the Leaf? That's like a vegan's diet - they find a way to work it into every conversation.

[greenteawaist]

6/17/23

June's weight loss trend has been incredibly satisfying, like, even though I'm just now at the weight I was plateaued at in April (177.8), I've been really consistent in the last week or so and my trendline is at 178.2 which is the lowest it's been all year.

Husband and I went on a little walk around the neighborhood last night which ended up being about a mile and a half and feeling really nice. our dog is sick, so I'm at home babysitting him but maybe I'll sneak out or to the basement for 40 mins to do some more walking.

[running-yenny]

Day 1- 1 mi @ 12:17

I have never been a runner. Even when I was doing track, I dreaded the half mile warm up. Somehow, in my adult life I signed up (and miraculously) completed a half marathon. I was literally the last person who crossed the finished line. Everyone was like “you did it! you finished! so many people dropped out but you didn’t quit!” I responded “lol thanks you’re right!” but deep down I was mortified. My boyfriend and friends came to support me and tailgate and I didn’t do well.

I am in a bit of a funk right now. Is it depression? Is it seasonal allergies? Maybe both? Couldn’t tell ya. But this also has made me reflect on running and other things that I’m not very good at but could be good at with some more work. So I am going to redeem myself with another half marathon and not come in last. That is my goal, not come in last. I don’t know how long it’s going to take me but I have an untraditional plan set out- run 1 mile until I get to 8 min/mile. Then add another mile, to get to 2 miles at 16 min/2 miles. So on and so on and hopefully with that pace I will not come in last. Also while I was training for my first half marathon, my mood was a lot better so maybe it was just the fact of actually getting out there and doing something instead of sleeping 10 hours.

Today I am also planning on taking a break from my therapist. Seems counterintuitive, I know. But 1. Its a money thing and 2. She’s actually taught me a lot so far so I will continue to do the things she’s told me. Some of those things are journaling (here we are) and the other is “comparison is the thief of joy” which again sounds weird for training for a sport/race but I’m not comparing myself to my old self, I’ve already accepted her. This time, I just want to see how well I can do. No expectations, just pushing myself and trying my best. 

[45before45]

Best not to have foresight sometimes

Yup a good job we didn’t “should / could / maybe” this one - all things considered, not least the much calmer day effect - I would have put money on it being: 

Should: set season’s best

Could: Beat 17.10

Maybe: Break 17 mins

As it turned out it was actually 5 seconds slower but in the cold light of day really not a problem. 

The good: Although I didn’t feel like I really kicked on or was overly comfortable or anything it was a relatively retrained k’s 2,3 &4. Last k was able to pick it up a decent amount and actually finished last k nearly 12 secs quicker than last week. Howell was actually in touching distance (if I actually had a decent finish)

The bad:  Well yeah it was 5 secs slower on a less windy (but much colder) day and looking “up the road” 17 mins was a bit further away.....although not THAT much thinking about it.

The Never Ugly: Still managed to just about beat Paul, did a decent session afterwards (though miles behind S&P), was in the midst of 95k week with a “new record” Tuesday Tread Sess and a decent 30 mins at 6.10 /3:50 pace. 

Next Steps: Drills, strides and the all important Herc Tuesdays. That and maybe 2kgs should see a decent leap forward. 

[xpeachesncream]

get to know me tag

thank you for tagging me, babes! 💕 @mercurygguk @xiaokoo

tagging (please don’t feel pressured!): @chans-baby-girl @jimidol @firstraysofthedawn @namjooningelsewhere @sunflwrxclouds @lovelytaes-blog @invisiblefortoday @purplehearts1996 @jikookiekosmos @kithtaehyung-main @dntaewithluv @ddeseokielune @buzzyybee @siredsong @ressjeon @jinpanman + whoever else would like to join in 🥰

1. when is your birthday?

april 15th

2. what is your favorite color?

hunter green/forest green

3. what is your lucky number?

7, 11

4. how tall are you?

5′6

5. how many pairs of shoes do you own?

ouu lord, let’s just say a lot LOL

6. favorite song?

yes, i am still stuck on ‘love me like that’ by sam kim 🥺

7. favorite movie?

i’ll give you top 3 since i can’t exactly choose lol - the wood, selena, space jam

8. what would be your ideal partner?

to keep it simple, someone who’s real and someone who can cherish me just like i do with them. a ride or die, a homie, lover and friend. 

9. do you want children?

hm, no. not at this moment, not for awhile.

10. have you gotten in trouble with the law?

no lol

11. what color socks are you wearing?

none, just my grey house slippers haha

12. bath or shower?

shower shower shower

13. favorite kind of music?

pop, RnB, hiphop

14. how many pillows do you sleep on?

one, but i have two extras

15. what position to you sleep in?

right side, back, on my tummy with my leg out lol

16. what don’t you like when you’re sleeping?

when it’s too hot and the covers are already light as heck!

17. what do you eat for breakfast?

coffee? i typically eat my first meal at lunch time.

18. have you ever tried archery?

nope! would like to though!

19. what are your favorite fruits?

mango, strawberries, papaya

20. favorite swear word?

F U C K

21. do you have any scars?

on my left knee :) from riding my bike and falling off of it lol

22. are you a good liar?

i can be, yes. depending.

23. what is your personality type?

to be honest, i haven’t taken that test in a long time - however, to get down to the knitty gritty in simple terms, i care for my people and i will always put my people first! i can be an introverted extrovert? could take me awhile to warm up to you/people depending on the setting, but once i do warm up, i can talk. i can be way too nice, but i can also have an attitude lol i possess most of the aries personality traits, esp if you’ve known me for awhile 🤧😂

24. what is your favorite type of girl?

as long as we can get along and vibe, you’re my girl, i sweaaaar!

25. right or left handed?

right

26. favorite food?

filipino, japanese food

27. are you clean or messy?

clean

28. favorite foreign food?

japanese? i should also add i do love indian food and thai food!

29. how long does it take you to get ready?

y i k e s, maybe 15-30 minutes at most

30. most used phrase?

oh fuck lol

31. are you a good singer?

noooooOoOOO

32. do you sing to yourself?

yes

33. biggest fear?

shoot, i have a lot to be honest.. i guess one that instantly pops up right now is being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

34. do you like short or long hair?

i’m okay with either, kinda prefer long though

35. are you into gossip?

i mean if people need to vent, sure. but i don’t go looking for it lol

36. extrovert or introvert?

introverted extrovert

37. favorite school subject?

science

38. what makes you nervous?

driving HAHA fuck

39. who was your first real crush?

one of the people i grew up with

40. how many piercings do you have?

three

41. how fast can you run?

ah, i haven’t ran in a really long time due to my recovery. but i used to run 3 miles in 30 minutes? 10 min per mile? we’ll see when i work my way back into it

42. what makes you angry?

it takes a lot for me to get really angry but i think one thing that drives me crazy is when people wanna say shit about something they clearly don’t know much about.

43. do you like your own name?

sure, yes

44. what are your weaknesses?

big attitude, i get bored really easily, too impatient

45. what are your strengths?

i can be really passionate about certain things, determined, organized. lol

46. what color is your bed spread?

white and teal

47. what color is your room?

off white

[smilingleoo]

He tells Y/N he kissed a girl when he was drunk- PJM Drabble Pt.2

Request: can u do a part 2 of He tells Y/N he kissed a girl when he was drunk plsss🥺 i love your writing so much

Warnings: slight angst

Author’s Note: thank you! I love writing for you guys 🥺 hope you like it, I did it with a happy ending this time. Too much angst for me lol. Enjoy!!

Pt.1 Pt.2

————

————

He was devastated to say the least.

A month had gone by since your breakup and it was killing him. The boys had demanded an explanation for his sloppy dance moves, cold expressions and aloof attitude. They were concern and extremely worried. They hadn’t seen you around lately and, mostly Yoongi, had suspected that something was not right between the both of you-“I cheated. Remember the night we went out to have some drinks because of the award? I might have drunk too much and...I made out with another girl. I returned home and blurted it out.”

Namjoon was the first one to react, of course, telling him he had been irresponsible and irrational. Jimin knew it, had known it since he left the apartment you both shared, and blamed himself for it daily. The next one to scold him was Min Yoongi, surprisingly. He was a little bit more subtle but straightforward anyways-“Y/N did everything for you, Jimin-ah. Why?”

Jimin had asked himself that question too. He hadn’t found a proper answer yet, and he feared he never would. Did he really wanted to kiss another person so desperately? Either way, he had lost and he doubted you’d give him a second chance-“I don’t know...I wish I had an answer to that.”

“I’ve talked to her”-Taehyung added-“She’s doing well. She told me she had a hard time getting over you and that maybe she’s rethinking everything. Maybe you should talk to her, Jimin-ah.”

A slight punge of hope punctured his chest as he fished for his phone, browsing through his contacts until he stopped on your name. The letter shone brightly on his screen while he analyzed his movements, every breath he took calculated and cold. Should he call you? He opted for the safer choice and decided that sending you a message would be more appropiate.

Your screen flashed automatically when Jimin’s text arrived. His name was still saved with a cute heart and a pig since both loved eating so much. Even though you had made it your priority to forget him, Jimin was always stuck in your constant daydream. You though about him and his stupidly charming smile or his adorable way of taking care of you. He had loved showing you off to the other members, bragging about how awesome you were and how flawless you looked every second of every day.

You still loved him, of course.

But your pride was just so damn big that you had buried those feelings deep within your soul. Until now.

Hello, Y/N. How’s everything going?

Hi, Jimin. Everything’s fine, hbu?

Your finger pads began sweating as you watched how his contact name had ‘typing’ underneath. You tried to distract yourself by scrolling through other social media but, as soon as he finished the text, you clicked on it.

Everything’s fine too. I was wondering if we could talk. I know we ended our relationship a while ago now but I’d like for us to have a proper chance to talk things through. I won’t insist if you don’t want to...I just thought it’d be nice.

You hesitated, thumbs fidgeting over each other while trying to form a coherent response in your head. What should you say? You knew that if you turned him down, he wouldn’t bug you anymore. At first, it sounded nice to finally forget about Park Jimin for once but, after some serious consideration, you weren’t sure if that’s what you’d prefer.

I guess we can grab a coffe someday.

His response came in right away.

Great! How about tomorrow?

Yeah, I’m free. Same place at 17 O’Clock?

Same place at 17 O’Clock.

()

The beige coat hung lossely from your shoulders as you warmed up your freezing hands with some leather gloves you had purchased some month ago. You knew Korea’s winter could be extremely cold, but you had underestimated the temperature just a little bit. It was too late to realize, though, and the chilling wind made nothing to sooth your stoic limbs.

A small smile crossed your lips as the little coffe shop you had visited so much with Jimin suddenly appeared. It was as cozy as it had been before; snuggled in between two giant building that doubled it in height. The twin windows on either side of the main door radiated a yellow-ish light from within inviting you to step in, order a warm cappuccino and relax from the heavy thoughts that had been running through your mind the whole day.

Jimin was there when you gathered up enough courage to jump inside the shop. He had booked your usual spot further into the room, with enough lightning to see each other’s features but also dim to have that intimacy that you’d only felt with him. Something in your stomach sprung when his eyes spotted yours from miles away. He waved his hand slightly while a silly smile accompanied his invitation. You felt clumsy all of a sudden, as if your legs had forgotten how to properly walk, and you stumbled through some empty chair before finally plopping down in front of him.

You noticed he had ordered your usual drink and a fuzzy feeling took over you senses when you realized how well he knew you-“You look beautiful”

You stiffened.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just...I didn’t mean to be disrespectful-”-he mumbled.

“Don’t worry”-you chirped in-“You weren’t. You look great too. How’re the boys doing?”

“They’re as annoying as ever”-he chuckled-“They miss you, though. I miss you...”

“I miss them too”-you-“I miss you too.”

Jimin couldn’t believe what he heard but he played it cool, he needed to know your emotions for sure. The date went on; treats being bought, laughs being shared and memories being built once again. You couldn’t believe how much you had missed being with Jimin and he for sure couldn’t get a grasp on it too.

“I think we should go”-he laughed-“The lady over there has been glaring at us for more than ten minutes straight. I think she might want to kick us out.”

“I noticed her too!”-you exclaimed as you hanged your purse over you shoulder-“I though I was being paranoic.”

Although you knew you needed to part your own ways, you just wanted to stay a little longer with him. You wanted to freeze time just a while longer to appreciate properly the man by your side. His freshly dyed hair glinting under the fading sunlight accompanying that faint pink blush from the day’s cold breeze and his beautiful smile. Everything about him was so delicate yet sharp and you just could describe the image as an absubrd contradiction.

A paradox.

“Do you have more time?”-you blurted out-“Maybe we can go for a walk, there’s a park nearby.”

He checked his phone-not really looking for anything since he would have complied anyways-and nodded afterwards. The walk towards the park was quiet yet it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. The streets were busy, as usual, but Jimin made it feel as if the both of you were the only ones on Earth.

Jimin guided you through and archway made by still trees intertwining their branches like the hands of young lovers. His pale hand was dangling by his side, urging you to take it on your own, but you weren’t sure.

Not until he spoke.

“I can’t live without you, Y/N”-he mumbled-“I tried to but it’s impossible. I’m lost without you and I can’t fathom the image of you being with someone else. It’s selfish, I know. It’s selfish because I want to see you happy. You deserve to be happy. But I want to be the one whose responsible of it. I want to be blessed with that opportunity. Please, I know I’ve let you down but I promise I’ll work to be the best for you. I love you.”

His eyes became watery mid confession but you found it endearing rather than annoying. How his voice cracked or how his lip shivered contributed to his purity and honesty, so the uncertainty of being lied to wasn’t even there.

“I...”-your voice came out as a soft yet firm echo-“I can live without you.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. His heart cracked and his hopes vanished from his insecure soul. Had he caused you so much pain?

“Y/N please don’t-”

“I can live without you, Park Jimin”-you continued-“But I don’t want to. The time we weren’t together gave me space to think things through. I became a whole new person; I could indeed get to know me better. I’ve always been so devoted to other, never being true to myself and my desires. This time I had to just be with me made me realize I can be selfish and it doesn’t need to be entirely wrong. Because right now, I want to kiss you and I want to be with you. I want to be selfish and let my pride fall for once. Because I love you and you make me happy and I deserve to be happy.”

“Then be selfish”-he sighed-“An fucking kiss me.”

His lips were soft-softer than you remembered-like falling petals of a blossoming rose or shining clouds on a sunny winter day. They reminded you of warmth and comfort. His limbs found heir way to your waist, tugging you closer to his chest. Your pressed one palm over his cheek while the other tangled itself in his soft locks.

You never wanted to let go.

He never wanted to let go.

Not again.

Not anymore.

[5h4rk1zzl3]

mmmm im tryna avoid binging rn and am bored and we know how tht leads to it soooooo im gonna do all 30 days in one post :)

day 1- idk the exact tbh. dont have a weigh scale at my house bc everyone else is naturally skinny but me, im gonna try and buy one soon tho.

day 2- around 5'4 ehhh im not terribly mad about it but i definitely would prefer to be taller.

day 3- a pic of my thinspiration and why:

i really like how their shoulders are boney & the skinny limbs & the slight abs omg & the collar bones AHHHH

day 4- tbhhh i have quite a few fears:

-i wont look how i wanna look at my ugw

-stretch marks wont fade enough & will still be just as bad when im skinny

-saggy skin :/ im loosing around 60 lbs so i think that might happen idk tho

-people wont even realize i lost weight??? idk i feel like ppl arent even gonna realize for some reason bc i only wear all baggy clothes anyways idk makes no sense cos u can still tell but whtever

-ppl will still view me as the fat sister.... uh idk i just always have been it and i feel like ill still be viewed as it even when im skinny

-ill gain it all back ¿¿ kinda cliche but it already happened to me and i dont wanna let it happen it time.

day 5- yeah im doing it for myself mostly but theres alotta reasons like the main one being i used to be skinny and was so much happier and more comfortable then... but theres alotta smaller reasons like maybe get more (good) attention, get praise from ppl, can wear better clothes, idk not feel so insecure

day 6- yeahhhhhhhhh uhhh i think mostly it happens when i get mad and then i cant help myself :| i gotta work on that but ive been pretty good with it for the past 2 months actually i have binged a fee times but each time i worked out enough to kinda even it out i feel like (if tht even makes sense)

day 7- yeah but they think im doing it healthily because i lie abt my cals

day 8-mostly running on a treadmill

day 9- uhmmm no not rlly besides my parents... actually yeah maybe some of my exes friends :|

day 10- time tbh... the amount of time i spend working out is insane im so behind on all my fkn school work

day 11- idk i dont rlly keep track of blogs i kinda use pinterest for thinspo mostly

day 12-alot of string beans, strawberries & tht 45 calorie toast

day 13- its been pretty healthy because i wanted to avoid going down a spiral again. (eating 1500 working out for 1.5 hours) but im seeing no results and i been doing this for 2 months and now i feel myself starting to slip. ive been eating under 500 for the past week and starting to work out for 2-4 hours a day

day 14- 95, idk i was supposed to reach it by the end of july but now i think it may take alot longer :/

day 15- no

day 16- 2 months ago i used to be pretty skinny march of 2020 and then covid happened and i gained like 40 lbs in a year and now i wanna get back down

day 17- idk?????? sometimes i think i do but no im not diagnosed, like last year i used adderall to loose weight and idk if that counts as one but i wish i could do tht again but cant get my hands on any

day 18- bagels omg. so high in cals. so yummy. like i cant afford it bc ONE is 290 cals and then i always put butter so another 80 (relatively low cal butter)

day 19- its actually been a while so i had to check the door dash app lol. but may 1st i ordered popeyes :,) mostly for my family

day 20- none. i dont diet i just count calories

day 21- idk?????? i wear xlarge hoodies & sweats everyday

day 22-i think around 120, covid and a mix of my bf breaking up wm caused me to be super depressed and i gained sm up to 170

day 23- yeah i wanna look like all the perfect ppl i see

day 24- i dont like it like idk why ppl would be pro why would u wish it upon anyone.

day 25- yeahhhhhhhhh i did before but i learned now not to because it honestly doesnt get rid of all the calories & leaves u hungrier but i did a year ago

day 26- TBHHHHH having sex again LMAOO i havent since i got fat bc im too insecure

day 27- not well :|

day 28- YES. my mom & sister both have it and i want it SO BAD. i didnt even have it a year ago when i was at my lowest weight which is so annoying

day 29- sebastian stan😍😍😍😍😍LMAOOOOOO

day 30- 10 facts ab me

1- im scared of driving a car LMAOO

2- total insomniac

3- can run a 5 min mile (at 0 incline tho)

4- read ALOT

5- obsessed w marvel

6- in love w sebastian stan :,)

7- love jetskiing

8- gonna move to nyc in a year

9- love coffeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

10- currently am failing 4/6 of my classes

[weedle-testaburger]

Jambudweek Day 5: Drive

Another story for @jambudweek! Steven and Connie’s plan for a romantic vacation goes a bit awry when the reality of what they’re doing starts to sink in. It’s a problem that can only be sorted with a good old heart-to-heart.

Steven pulled up to the driveway of the Maheshwarans’ house, and grinned eagerly as he saw Connie rush out the door, followed by her mom to say goodbye, and put her bags for the trip in the Dondeye’s trunk. She climbed in, and kissed Steven on the cheek to say hi.

“You excited for this?” Steven asked. “Of course,” giggled Connie. “This is gonna be so cool. I’ve barely ever been out of Delmarva before, let alone to the other side of the country!” “I haven’t been away from here in a long time either,” Steven replied. “And I’ve never taken the Dondeye for such a long trip. But I guess if you’re ready,” he added, setting up his phone’s GPS for directions, “Kansas, here we come!” As he set the address for the hotel they’d booked, the distance and ETA came up. “2,706 miles (42 hrs 17 mins),” it read. The two of them looked at it and frowned. “Uh... maybe this was a bit ambitious,” Steven admitted. “You think you can do it, though?” Connie asked a little worriedly. Recognizing she was concerned, Steven replied, “Yeah, of course! Just so long as we have some breaks and stuff, I’ll be fine.”

They came to their first resting stop near Charm City, and after buying snacks and refuelling, Connie asked, “Are you sure this is gonna be OK?” “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Steven replied. “Well, Kansas City IS almost as far away from Beach City as you can get,” Connie pointed out. “I know, but I can do it,” insisted Steven. “I WANT to do it.” “Thanks,” Connie replied somewhat nervously.

As they continued west, Steven tried to avoid looking at the distance measurement on his phone, and put on music to relax himself while Connie was listening to a Spirit Morph Saga audiobook. But suddenly something came on that distracted him- one from Sadie and Shep’s mixtape. Unable to change the song safely, and not wanting to disturb Connie, he sped up a bit to try and drown it out. Connie’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening. “Steven, I think you’re going over the speed limit!” she pointed out, alarmed. Steven instantly slowed down, but Connie could tell from the anxious expression on his face something was wrong. She changed the song quietly, and asked, “You sure you’re OK?” “I’m fine!” Steven answered firmly. “If you’re sure...” came Connie’s reply.

As they continued driving and the daylight faded, Connie grew more anxious, and Steven noticed it. Eventually, while they were in a forest near California City (the one in California, not Missouri), Connie said, “Uh, Steven?” “Yeah?” her partner answered quietly. “I think we should think about stopping now-“ she started. “Why? Don’t you think I can do it?” Steven demanded, barely noticing his hands glowing pink. “Connie, this is your treat! I wanna get you to Kansas as soon as I can! I wanna make you happy!” Connie looked at him with a mix of worry and anger. “Steven, you’re not gonna make me happy like this,” she protested.

Hearing this, the pink light faded from Steven’s skin, and his face fell. “Oh no,” he said in a small voice. “I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I had such a stupid plan, to go this far outside Beach City, without the Gems or portals or even dad to look out for me!” He teared up. “I’m sorry I dragged you out so far like this, Connie.” “Steven, that’s not what I meant,” Connie replied. “I wanna go to Kansas just as much as you do! I’m just scared that if you go like this, and you’re this determined to go there as fast as you can, we’ll both be worried and mad at each other and have an awful time!” Steven didn’t speak for a moment as he considered this. “I... I guess I’m apologizing for the wrong thing,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy all day.” “It’s OK, everyone has bad days,” Connie smiled softly. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to do all this on your own. Driving this far seems so hard- I don’t even know how to drive anywhere, I kinda wish I did so you didn’t have to do all the driving.” “I mean, it’s kinda my fault I didn’t think to take this a bit slower,” Steven admitted. “Honestly, I think driving all this way with you will be fun. Even if I made today kinda nasty.” “Thanks,” Connie replied, blushing a little.

After they parked up, the two of them hugged, and Steven realized something. “Uh... if the hotel’s in Kansas, where are we gonna sleep?” he giggled. “I have an idea, actually,” smiled Connie. She got out of the car, opened the trunk, and pulled something out. Steven followed her out confusedly, and then saw what she’d got- a bunch of pillows and blankets. “Oh, nice!” he said. “I guess that’ll make sleeping in the car a bit nicer.” Once Connie had laid them out, she lay down in the back seat while Steven shut the front doors. “Hey, Steven?” she asked. “You know what’d make sleeping in the car a lot nicer?” Steven looked down as he was about to climb in the back, and saw Connie gesturing that she wanted a cuddle. “Oh, that’d definitely be nice,” he laughed as he got in and locked the car. Getting under the blankets with her, the two of them cuddled gently, and after a goodnight kiss or two, dozed off soundly.

When they were woken up by the sun shining through the windows of the Dondeye, they groaned- and quickly realized they were doing it in unison. Giggling, they looked down and realized they’d fused during the night. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting to come on this vacation,” Stevonnie chuckled to themself. They yawned, and climbed in the front of the Dondeye carefully. “I realized during the night,” they said, “Steven doesn’t have to do all the driving for us like this!” And they smiled to themself like a dork as they proceeded towards Kansas excitedly.

[woo-do-hwan]

Eternal Love of Dream: Episodes 16 & 17

Round 8 or 9??? Let’s go!!!

A couple of pointers that you may or may not know:

1. You DO NOT need to have seen Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (Eternal Love) to watch this. 2. If you have seen Eternal Love, ignore what happens between these two. (They weren’t able to gain copyright access to this novel for Eternal Love, so their storyline was made up and put in as a filler) 3. This is based on a novel, you don’t need to read the novel but it is a great read if you’re interested. 4. I may refer to this as The Pillow Book or TPB. 5. Lastly, there will be some comparisons and I will relate to the novel at times.

Also spoilers, maybe? (If you haven’t seen these episodes yet)

Episode sixteen

Where would historical dramas be without their loving evil mothers? Ah... She doesn’t seem to be evil so that’s something to appreciate. Not the obnoxious type of evil... at least. 

Let’s have some appreciation for all the flowers in this drama.

Please... it hurts to see him on the screen every time...

Just. Lmao. 

The stone knows more about them than those two fools know about themselves.

dONGhUA??? Is THAT YOU??? (no just a lovesick song xuanren)

The way his thumb was just running over her fingers. *sigh* I’m lonely. 

If this is the fcking content we’re getting for a kiss scene imagine the steamier scenes. My God. My body is ready. *asdfghjk*

Cheng Yu checking up on her daug- *ahem* new bestie. 

Yes. More fake instrument playing. A highlight of The Untamed. 

Yooo, yeah, so. Remember when I said I was ready for the steamier scenes. NOT. THIS. FCKING. SOON.  

*proceeds to scream internally for the rest of this* 

GOD DAMN IT SONG XUANREN!!!!!!!!!!!

Episode seventeen

Honestly, this is the most book vibing scene I feel we’ve had so far. (Spoilers: Later in the novel, Fengjiu is drafting up a weapon and takes over Donghua’s study. He doesn’t mind and continues to do his usual all while keeping her company. Then he builds her a conservatory/pavilion for her so she can study outside and admire the scenery. If that’s not couple goals, I don’t know what is Also, Donghua just wanted his study back because it was becoming crowded, lmao. It is the thought that counts.)  

Such a big a** mood. 

Bless these few scenes we get of them together. I need my man Ye Qingti to do a modern drama, I bet he looks good with short hair too. 

What a power couple. 

When evil schemes are in the plot I prefer it being shown in a subtle way before the big reveal. The Untamed did that extremely well and I mean fcking extremely well. I love it when we build up to revealing the crimes all in one blow. 

Is she really gone for good this time though??? (I suppose she is because she isn’t brought up after Ji Heng and Min Su part ways in the novel) Well... she seems like a wonderful actress. Best of luck in the future! I may see you in another drama someday and hopefully, you won’t be killed off. 

See you next time! Any questions and I will try my best to answer them!

episodes 14 & 15 

episodes 18 & 19