#group stage round 1

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group J Round 1: #J4 vs #J5

#J4: Kids conquering dungeons to change the world

A Magi is a magician whose inclination toward magic is so immense that they can be said to shape the world. With their significant influence, each Magi chooses a worthy candidate to become a king, then helps them conquer strange labyrinths called "Dungeons" and acquire the power of mythical djinns within. Above all else, the Magi supervises their elected representative as they build a country that might one day bring the world to its knees.

Aladdin is a young Magi wandering the world in search of his true self. However, his journey is not a lonely one, as he is accompanied by his friend and mentor Ugo—a djinn he summons using his flute. On his travels, Aladdin also befriends Alibaba Saluja and guides him to a nearby Dungeon. With this newfound friendship, they begin an epic adventure across the world, witnessing various irregularities that seem more frequent than ever.

#J5: Girls live in a school, but not by choice

Carefree high school senior Yuki Takeya looks forward to the School Living Club every day. Consisting of the president Yuuri Wakasa, the athletic Kurumi Ebisuzawa, the mature Miki Naoki, the supervising teacher Megumi Sakura, and club dog Taroumaru, the club prides itself on making the most of life at school. There is only one rule the club members have to follow: all members must live their entire lives within school grounds.

[Admin: I didn’t notice it while screening the submissions, but the submitter’s original trailer and tagline contained MAJOR spoilers for episode 1. Luckily, I’ve watched this show before, so I can edit it safely.]

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#J4: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic

Propaganda 1:

Imagine characters from Arabian Nights/1001 Nights coming to life in an anime. Even though it is loosely inspired off of the tales, it is a unique time and place from most anime settings. It has action, humor, and deep concepts. One of my favorite parts about Magi is how well-developed the background characters are.

Propaganda 2:

This anime has a lot of philosophical takes on what fate is. Basically, is everything that happened to you caused by a force you can’t control or is it what you make of it? Is there something or rather someone pulling the strings on what should or shouldn’t be? Is the person you are because you were lucky or unlucky to be born in the wealthy family or not? Why are things the way they are? Why was I dealt with a shitty hand in life? Is it because I’ll never amount to anything, or is something doing this to me? Why are we here just to suffer kind of deal, but you know not the meme version, the really sad and real version. Then you have the side of the people who may have not had the best life, but found a way out of it. Why do some people get to feel the light when you went through the same thing, but still lost and in the dark?

Trigger Warnings: Partial nudity and slavery. One of the mains is a slave in the beginning, but the other two mains help free her from that.

#J5: School-Live! (Gakkougurashi!)

[Admin: The official trailer spoils ep1, so here, have the opening instead.]

Propaganda:

If you like Madoka Magica, you’ll 100% like this series. It’s hard to explain without spoilers, but it has a huge plot twist in the first episode. The anime is a short one with only 12 episodes, but it has an amazing manga as well! It mixes a cute slice of life high school anime with a darker plot, and it’s handled so well. It doesn’t seem like it’s just dark for the sake of being edgy like some other similar series. It covers topics like mental health and grief well, and it has as happy of an ending as possible for a series like this. The plot twists were executed so well, and I was sobbing by the end of the series.

Trigger Warnings: Animal Cruelty or Death, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Derealization.

[Admin: I had to remove the submitter’s explanations for the TWs because it will spoil the show greatly. You're on your own now. Proceed at your own risk.]

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

[web-novel-polls]

Web Novel Quotes Tournament

Quote A: 

“The first lifetime, a stone appeared, turning into the burial mound of a hero, feelings unable to be broken. The second lifetime, a boulder split, ferrying a predestined love across the Bridge, a pair of mandarin ducks flying off together. The third lifetime, a jadeite burned, vowing to abide by an invaluable oath, eternally following each other in life and death” - Qi Ye, Chapter 1

Submission: This is the opening paragraph of the novel. It goes unaddressed in the rest of the novel but it is heavily implied to be describing Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi’s several centuries of tragic soulmate-ism

Quote B: 

"I wish that, after my death, I’ll also have a picture left in Qilin Hall. When that time comes, you’ll carry it up to the Golden Stage yourself......The most high and most bright are the sun and moon, and the most close yet most distant are a husband and wife. If you promise me this, you will be my only next of kin from now on."  - Fu Shen to Yan Xiaohan, Golden Terrace, Chapter 26

[companion-showdown]

Next time is going to be Chaos Incarnate: Favourite Chaotic Companion (I'd do most chaotic but I think that'll just end up recreating the glowing green goo tournament)

Current list of contestants is

Vicki Pallister

Dodo Chaplet

Jamie McCrimmon

Zoe Heriot

Sarah-Jane Smith

Ace McShane

Clara Oswald

Iris Wildthyme

Missy

the TARDIS

Suggestions for the remaining slots are more than welcome. I've decided not to be as strict about them being actual companions as last time (within reason, they have to either be at least a notable character, or a really good fit for the tournament)

tournament won't start until tomorrow (21/05) (9 BST (UTC+1) at the earliest but probably much later), so again, unlike last time, there is plenty of time, and any suggestions will almost certainly come in before the tournament starts (sorry Doctor Elizabeth Klein)

(Susan, Leela, Bill, Graham, and Dan are currently maybes, so its particularly worth speaking up for them)

[cantfuckbracket]

Reigen Arataka will be in the tournament guys. I promise Reigen Arataka will be in the tournament

[companion-showdown-dot-org]

are you only taking the winner from round o (8 people?) or like, the first two (16)

round 1 was already live by the time I saw this, but I will answer anyway

basically, nobody gets eliminated in round 0, its not really part of the actual tournament so much as something I use to help me place companions in the bracket so the ones who are more likely to win don't face each other until later rounds.

I seeded it myself for fight club, but had to adjust the bracket part way through because I'd overestimated the chances of some companions and underestimated some others. We would have ended up with the final match (C'rizz vs Leela) happening in round 3.

Doing a seeding round basically just gives me some concrete data to base the seeding on so something like that hopfully won't happen again. I use a combination of the percentage and the raw number of votes characters get in round 1 to come up with a ranking I think looks fair, and I think it worked last time.

there is going to be execptions to no eliminations in the group stage in future tournaments, the next one (companion's companions), and another suggested tournament which doesn't have a plan for when it will start yet (best almost/could have been companion). Since the requirements for getting into the tournament are different, there is not an easy way for me to decide without input who makes it in, so there will be a group stage with everyone suggested to bring the numbers down to something useable. These group stages will be called round 1 though, and be run from the main blog @companion-showdown

[awfcspencer]

Text or Call? || alexia putellas x reader

prompt: At the 2019 World Cup you meet Alexia, what happens at the 2023 World Cup.

warnings: uswnt!reader, instances of angst but a happy ending

“The United States look to continue their powerful regime and earn a fourth covenant star on their jerseys.”

It was the somewhat mantra of this year’s major tournament, building the pressure to perform well to the highest magnitude. There was an expectation of excellence surrounding the team months leading up to the tournament, with new eyes joining the march nearly every day, boosting the US to new heights. 

The 2019 Women’s World Cup had been set and it was imperative that the United States go back-to-back World Champions, you could see the newspapers now as it seemed it was somewhat written in the stars for the United States. The pressure to play well was there, and you couldn’t let down your country on the national stage. The prevailing narrative casted an array of self-doubt and anxieties into you, and you couldn’t deny the lingering thoughts of what-ifs. What if you don’t play well? What if you don’t win? 

You’d spent countless years preparing for this opportunity, moving through the USWNT age groups with ease and then battling to make the senior team roster. You’d been playing professional soccer for a couple years right out of college, playing for a few different NWSL teams throughout your career. A few international assignments scattered along the schedule leading up to the World Cup proved you were worthy of such call-up and when the roster was announced, you’d managed to escape with a spot. 

The media’s outrage was uncontrollable, claiming other national team members deserved your earned spot more than you, the constant outpour of hatred flooded your social media, it was hard to ignore, just like the dark cloud that casted over you as you landed in France to begin the tournament. 

The group stage had gone swimmingly, the United States proved once again why they were a threat and seemingly looked to breeze by competition. The roster was filled with the highest of talent but still you’d managed to find minutes on the pitch, only causing increased negative media. One bad pass or one bad movement made you feel each and every ruthless word that the fans spewed online, it was uneasy to escape the anxious feeling you felt each time you played. 

Your national teammates tried to shield you from the hatred online, but you saw it, and throughout select moments of the tournament, you felt yourself desperately trying to prove them wrong, but your head was clouded and your mind was on overdrive, your apparent distractedness was only hurting your game. 

With an upcoming knock round game versus Spain, you seeked to play your game, play the game you loved with every fiber in you, play with the seemingly carefree nature that set your game apart from your teammates. The same energy and joy you played with during the NWSL season that had initially brought your name up to Jill, you needed to return to yourself, you needed to play for yourself and not listen to what hundreds of people said behind anonymous screens.

The match against Spain in the midfield looked to be a challenge you welcomed, matched up directly across Alexia Putellas, a woman near your age who had been streamlining a new era of Spain dominance and prolonged success of Liga F’s Barcelona team. 

You’d yet had the chance to meet the brunette in person, but seconds before kickoff you couldn’t deny the effortless beautifulness the midfielder had. Her fixed concentration and aura was undeniable, there was something enticing about her that you clearly didn’t have time to ponder on as the whistle blew and the game had begun.

The US managed to strike first but an untimely mistake that Jenni Hermoso quickly countered on and the score was tied 1-1.  

A wave of up and downs on both sides left the match up in the air, both sides fighting desperately to move on. You’d spent most of the match marking the vital number 11 for Spain, she moved rapidly down the pitch, excelling at such rate that you questioned if she was human or not, her stamina never withering. Alex had sent you a narrow ball on the route down the right side, forcing an untimely challenge from the Spaniard you’d been eyeing all game. You’d felt every spike of her cleat in your ankle, immediate pain coursing through the bone. 

“Lo sien- I am sorry.” She spoke with a clear apologetic tone, crouching down to meet your eyes. Her eyes were piercing up close, an assortment of different brown and hazel tones that fit her perfectly. “Are you okay?”

You’d sent her a swift nod, using her extended arm to help assist you up. Her breathtaking eyes peered down to you ankle, searching for any sort of extra concern. You moved your ankle in circles, the pain dwindled a bit and you were ready to compete again. Alexia let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in, thankful she hadn’t hurt you for her idiotic attempt to stop your path to a goal to put the US back on top.  

“All good.” You explain, sending her an appreciative smile for helping you up and jogged backwards a bit to resume play. You’d understood the tackle wasn’t malicious or targeted, she was simply trying to win the game, you couldn’t blame her efforts as you would have done nearly the same. 

Throughout the rest of the match, you’d found yourself stationed within close distance of the midfielder, her feet always seemed to attract the ball from her teammates and her vision for the game sent you running yards to continue to track the ball down. She made her passes look effortless, slicing through defenders with ease and her dribbling technique to create space was incredible, you would have been in full awe of the brunette if you weren’t in the middle of a vital match. 

Luckily a penalty had been awarded to the United States and the US were now ahead 2-1 and you desperately begged for the final whistle to blow. Your wish came true not much longer and the US moved on to the next stage. Spain gave a valiant effort, exposing the weak parts of the US game which you were sure the opponents were watching. After a brief celebration, your legs seemingly moved without your own account, moving until you were inches away from the Spain number 11, the midfielder that had suffocated your thoughts nearly all game. Before you could really think, your arm peered out and tapped the midfielder on the shoulder. 

“Good game.” You told her when she turned to you. “Jersey swap?”

Her once focused eyes now red-rimmed as tears threaten to fall from her eyelashes. It broke your heart in an indescribable way and you’d just nearly met the girl 90 minutes ago, but there was something alluring about her, she was a future powerhouse of women’s football and there was a sort of fascination that bubbled in you about the brunette.

She nodded and quickly discarded her jersey and handed it to you, “Good game as well.” 

You couldn’t deny, Alexia Putellas was built by God himself, her features chiseled and muscles defined, you couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds before she put your jersey on, the heat certainly rising to your cheeks placing a warm blush across your face. 

“See you around Putellas.” You told her as you walked toward where your team stood in the middle of the pitch conversing with other members of the Spain team.

The celebrations rang through the changing room, everyone congratulating one another on a solid performance and another checked off box towards back-to-back world cup wins. The time difference in France had certainly caught up to you and the efforts of the match meant your sore limbs desperately needed relaxation, so you headed back towards the hotel, leaving your national teammates who you knew would be partying until the sun eventually came up the next day. You’d swiftly changed out of your new Spain jersey and settled for a casual grey sweatsuit combo. 

Entering the hotel, you made your way towards the elevator, but something, or someone, piqued your interest. The all too familiar girl you’d spent the last 90 minutes chasing around, now sat in the hotel bar. She was dressed in similar clothes as you, nursing a small glass of wine alone. You’d recognized the back of her hair immediately, you’d constantly been behind her most of the match as her speed was unrivaled. Her hair now escaped the bun it had during the game and cascaded along her back. She was beautiful in the bun, but something about her hair down made your heart skip a beat, she was breathtaking, even from the back. 

Once again, your legs drove you forward, tiredness forgotten, you were incredibly infatuated in the midfielder and you desperately wanted to know her, understand her. There was something unexplainable about her that you couldn’t pinpoint that drew you in. 

“Can I sit?” You asked timidly. The position you know found yourself in was sticky, you didn’t think about the fact that your country had just knocked hers out of the World Cup and there was a high possibility that she wanted nothing to do with you, the brutal obvious thoughts now entered your mind when she didn’t immediately answer. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll go.” You told her as you made your way to leave.

“No, stay. You can sit.” 

You turn your head at the familiar voice, settling in next to Alexia on the barstool to the right of her. 

“You don’t deserve the hate you get online you know.” She spoke, breaking the awkward silence. 

“Thank you, and if it’s any consolation, you and your country did play well today.” 

She simply nodded in agreeance, taking a slow slip of her red wine. You and Alexia fell into an easy conversation when you asked about her journey, and then when she asked you about yours. The talking flowed effortlessly and you slowly found the girl in front of you coming out of her shell. She was easy to talk to and even after experiencing the loss she did today, she was quite humorous. The laugh that fell from her lips was intoxicating and you slowly found yourself melting around the Spaniard with every passing second. 

During one of your national teammates stories where you described an amusing event at training during the group stage, the pads of her fingers briefly stroked your shoulder and even through your sweatshirt, you could feel her electric touch, something was growing between the two of you in that dimly lit hotel bar. 

Glancing down at your watch, you realized you’d spent nearly three hours in the bar, talking with Alexia. Your once tiredness completely vanished when you saw the girl, but now the weight of your activities of the day now hitting you like a truck and a small yawn escaped your lips unwillingly.

“You should probably get some sleep.” She whispered. “But here.” She tore off a piece of the napkin that held her wine glass and jotted down her number for you. “Text or call after the tournament, yeah?” 

“Of course, Alexia. Thank you for tonight.” You told her as you pulled yourself off the bar stool. “Good night Alexia.” 

You moved to leave the bar before you heard her voice again, “Wait.” 

As you turned back to the midfielder, she placed a soft kiss on your cheek, “Good night.”

After the World Cup, you’d made good on your promise and texted Alexia, blossoming a friendship with the Spaniard, and then with time, you found yourself in a committed relationship with Alexia. A long-distance relationship that relied heavily on communication, but every chance either of you got to visit, you both did so instantly. 

You watched Alexia cement her name in countless record books across Spain and she watched your game develop likewise. A powerhouse couple of sorts in women’s football, and you had fallen madly in love with the midfielder. But eventually, the hundreds of miles caught up to the two of you.

------------

You replay the moment in your head every single day. From the very second you wake up in the morning to the second your eyes close at night, the moment replays in your head like a broken record. Alexia’s voice on the other side of the phone, hundreds of miles away, begging you to not give up on her drilled into your brain. 

Every day that passed you thought about forming a line of contact, trying to take back the obvious mistake you’d made. But you had let her down, and the last memory of the Spaniard you had was her voice buzzing in her your head, pleading to give her one more try. The distance between the two of you ultimately became too much and you couldn’t handle it any longer, and you would not let Alexia throw her whole life away to move closer to you, her home was in Barcelona and yours was in the US. 

You still smell the traces of her scent on your bedsheets. You still remember her favorite songs, the way she’d sing them out loud in the shower thinking no one’s listening. You still remember the feel of her under your palms, every curve, every line. The Spaniard still infiltrated all of your thoughts, even after you thought you’d gotten over her. You still couldn’t get her out of your mind, even though you knew you were probably long gone from hers.

From then on, you’d thrown yourself full force into your game, working hours a day to perfect your game and make the 2023 World Cup roster. A numbness had settled into you some time after the breakup and it had never left. Your main focus was football, the game that had changed your entire life, and not necessarily because of the sport itself. The game in which you had the highest of highs and low lows, the game that had brought you Alexia, and the game that eventually teared you away from the girl. 

You’d watched her struggle to recover from her ACL tear and watched her proudly return back to the pitch like she had never left. You’d kept up with Alexia, peaking into a Barça match every so often, watching her excel on the pitch just like she did four years ago at the World Cup, now just more people appreciated her game and you couldn’t be happier for you her.

The 2023 World Cup had the same intense feeling as the 2019 World Cup, the pressure for the United States to win another star was at a new height and it was up to the squad to win at any cost necessary. You’d cemented yourself as a valuable member of the team and now felt the weight of what was at risk for this tournament. 

You knew Alexia was going to be at the tournament, but you tried to force it out of your mind and focus on the task ahead. But there was no way to avoid her, the anxiety that settled into your stomach thinking about the girl was uncontrollable. Your mind was supposed to be focused and ready, but instead you felt numb and blank. Physically you were in Australia, but your mind was elsewhere. 

The group stage was all a blur, you’d been simply going through the motions for longer than you could remember, trying to just survive. The media was even more ruthless this tournament, claiming the US had lost their passion for the game and condemned each and every national team member, it was ruthless and you simply couldn’t escape it, but your mind spewed the same things, except your thoughts were focused on the girl who hadn’t left you mind since you broke her heart. 

The game against Sweden was an eye-opener, a stalemate match that even after extra time was still even, forcing a penalty shoot-out. Your team swayed together uncontrollably as your heart pounded in your ears, tuning out the crowd and trying to focus on the penalties. 

Next up was you. You lined the ball up and did the same penalty kick routine you’d done every single time. You took a deep breath and kicked the ball. The ball cleared the goal post, missing the net entirely, sending the ball into the stands. You had missed the penalty, and Sweden capitalized. You’d let down your country. 

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia sat in hotel room watching the match. Her knee bounced anxiously as she tried not to bite her nails, a habit you desperately pleaded for the Spaniard to stop. The match had given her heart palpitations as she shakingly paced around the room when the match came down to penalties. She watched you take yours and miss terribly, and when the camera panned to you, her heart broke in a million little pieces.

 Her thumb hovering over your contact, wanting to extend herself to you again, to be a shoulder to cry on, she knew this pain all too well. But luckily, she knew where you would go.

Back at the stadium, the Sweden team celebrated and the USWNT left in despair. You want to scream and cry but you can’t, every time you want to show an emotion, your body shuts down, unable to get the numbness that has surrounded you all tournament out. You needed something to let go, to get rid of this agonizing feeling and aid your despair.

You’d made quick work of packing your belongings in the changing room, and escaped out the door as quickly as you could, getting on the team bus and locking your eyes out the side window, not allowing the tears to fall. 

Once back at the hotel, you fell behind your teammates and instead of turning right towards the elevator up to the hotel rooms, you took a left and entered the hotel bar. You’d asked the bartender for something strong, something to forget the last 90 minutes of football. 

 “I figured I’d find you here.” You knew her voice all too well, it sent a bone chilling shiver down your spine. “Can I sit?” 

As you turned towards the girl, even in the softly lit bar, you knew who it was. 

“Alexia.” You try to not let your voice betray your feelings because you know Alexia can read you like an open book. Being back in Alexia’s presence was more intoxicating than any drink the bartender could offer you. 

“This was a bad idea. I just wanted to…” What did Alexia want to do? In truth she wanted to kiss you, hold you and tell you how special you are and apologize a thousand times for letting the distance get in the way, she wanted to do and say so many things. She noticed your eyes were tired but still had the same fire she saw four years ago. 

“Please stay.” You said and reached out to grab her, not caring how desperate you sounded, you couldn’t help it. Alexia, the girl who you had tried to avoid like the plague the second you landed in Australia, stood right in front of you. Her hair was slightly longer and you met her eyes for the first time since the breakup. She sat next to you in silence, she’d never seen you so damaged, so frail.

“How are you… doing?” You asked, swallowing around another lump in your throat, trying to get your thoughts together as you look towards her nervously. 

“I’m okay.” She said, sending you a soft smile with the small quirk it always had, the smile that was ingrained in the back of your mind even though you wished it wasn’t. 

Your heart thuds in your chest, Alexia was mere inches away from you and you yearned to lean over and kiss her, but you knew you couldn’t. She most likely had moved on and found solace in someone else, someone who wasn’t you. 

You try not to look into Alexia’s eyes for too long, because you know that if you lock eyes, Alexia will see just how much you still love her. 

“It’s not your fault you know.” She said, but you couldn’t tell if she was speaking about the match or about the past relationship. But nonetheless, you saw the opportunity and took it, and the apology spilled out of you.

“I was scared. I was hurt by the distance and I couldn’t handle it any longer. I tried to get you back but I am so sorry Alexia.” You whisper brokenly, tears streaming down your cheeks gently. You choke on your own cry that builds in your throat, everything bubbling to the surface. 

“I am so sorry I ever let you go.” Your voice cracks on the last word, not knowing where this conversation would go from here, but it had to be said.

Before you can say anything more through tears, you feel Alexia stand up, a hand wrapping around your waist and warms lips on your neck. Your eyes close as you cry harder, emotions from the game combining with the unsettled emotions of your breakup all those months ago. Alexia tightened her hold around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You watch as something flashes across Alexia’s face and it takes your heart in a vice grip to see the girl so confused and hurt. It makes you think back to the phone call and if you’d been able to see Alexia’s face when you broke up with her, you didn’t think you’d be alive now. 

There were two broken hearts in the room, not just one.

Alexia takes one of your hands, holding it between the two of you, “If you leave again, I will not be able to survive.” 

Her words hit you like a train as the impact almost makes you fall over, but you take your combined hands and place them firmly over her heart. You close your eyes and focuses on the heartbeat under your palm.

“I never want to live without you ever again.” You tell her as you hold your breath with the last syllable as you finish. Alexia kisses the small tear rolling down your cheek, The move is gentle and genuine and you reach out and tug Alexia closer. 

Alexia lifts your head up to meet her eyes that are also brimming with tears, “I never want to live without you ever again.” 

Alexia is giving you the power to reach into her chest and rip her heart right out again, but she is trusting you won’t this time. She leans in once more and kisses your lips, the gesture so familiar as if no time has passed. 

Alexia manages the one sentence that she knows doesn’t need much explaining for you to know the meaning, and she weighs on it heavily to anchor the two of you. 

“Text or call after the tournament, yeah?” She asked as the corners of her mouth curved into a smile. 

[explicit-tae]

Carnal Desire (1/3)

The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know. @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111

Word Count: 2.070

Warning: smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, haegeum type vibes fr fr, grinding, finger sucking, the reader is down bad, but so is yoongi, kissing, sucking,

“You’ll do amazing, really!” Bunny - your co-worker - says as she pats the highlighter upon your cheekbones. “You’re already on your way to becoming a favorite.”

You take a deep breath and nod.

“Please stay focused. We have very important people tonight.”

And there it was, your nerves kicking back in once more.

You only been here for a week - the high end strip club is more than you imagined. You often thought it would be littered with creeps and smelt of cheap booze and cigarettes - but maybe you just chose the right one. 

Your name is being called now and from behind the curtains, you notice the lights dim, and the red spotlight appears. You clicked your heels, rounding the curtain and made your way towards the middle of the stage. It’s amazing how you were able to turn your nerves off when needed be - you were highly grateful that you didn’t need any liquid courage to do so.

Bunny was correct when she said it would be a busy night - and the important people she spoke of had to be front and center. You sway your hips to the pole, hooking a leg around it and swinging as you do - a routine you practiced for the past two days.

You often don’t look into the crowd while performing - you were a natural overthinker and the last thing you needed was to mess up in front of a group of men. However, this was different. You had important people here tonight and your boss informed each dancer tonight to “appear” available and interested.

You regret taking her advice.

You drop to your knees slow and sultry, crawling towards the edge of the stage. Smoking typically wasn't allowed, but important guests always got their way. Your eyes focus on the man smoking and you froze.

Those eyes - such cold and feline-like eyes. They flash in your mind and you were brought back to your childhood; specifically your teenage years. As the smoke clears, as does your vision on the man - pale, porcelain-like skin, hard eyes and a low smirk on his lips.

Yoongi.

Min Yoongi was before you. He was the important guest tonight - he looked it. Even in the sea of people, you can smell the expensive cologne mixed with the nicotine smell. He appeared clean shaven and had not aged since you last saw him a decade prior.

Yoongi brings the cigarette back into his lips, his fingers curling as he does so. Your eyes glance to his hands, large and veiny and full of shining diamonds. 

Your eyes begin to grow dry and you blink. You finally inhale to not have your head go any more lightheaded than necessary. 

You hear a hiss of your name and your body immediately reacts. You begin to crawl once more, your eyes on nobody but Yoongi now. He furrows a brow and appears amused and curious.

Min Yoongi was before you.

Your Min Yoongi.

The same Min Yoongi that your father despised - called him a thug and everything but a decent human being. Father’s never approved of their little girls being hooked on an older man - but he was only two years older; if that. The same Min Yoongi who you had once admitted to loving during too many drinks and even when you insisted on showing him you weren’t a little girl, he never took advantage of your advances.

Min Yoongi was before you now - and you weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a woman that grew into her curves and appearance, and you were determined to show him just that.

It’s crazy to think that just one look at him made you feel as you did as a teenager - shy, but willing, giddy and wanting to prove yourself to him.

Yoongi leans closer to the stage just as you lean forward. Your manicured hand grasps his large ones and grasps the cigarette. You were never a smoker - he knows this. But he only smirks as you take a puff of it and blow it at him.

Your time was up, but your eyes linger onto Yoongi’s longer as you exit the stage. You feel it all fall on you at once - the nerves and nausea. Yoongi was here. He had seen you like this - what was he thinking? Has he remembered you? 

“What was that?” Bunny heels slam against the floor as she rushes to you. “Do you know who that is?”

Yes. “No.”

Bunny’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Suga is?”

Suga. Yoongi must have made another name for himself. He was once someone your father considered bad news and you can only guess what he was into back then - but Yoongi is a man now. He surrounded himself with men, him directly in the middle. He was an important member of whatever society he ran with; you didn’t really care much to ask.

“I was told to entertain the guests.” you shrug your shoulders. “Suga seems to be a very important person.”

Bunny nods with wide eyes. “Extremely. He dabbles in organized crime and is one of our biggest spenders here. You-”

“Y/N.”

You freeze, as does Bunny. 

“I’m dead.” you murmur to Bunny who slowly nods.

Your boss’ eyes are upon you when you turn. Her arms are crossed as she motions you to follow her. 

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“You aren’t in trouble.” your boss murmurs as you saunter towards her. “Seems like your little stunt caught Suga’s eye. He never pays for a dance.”

Yoongi did remember you.

Your heart races as your boss points to the back rooms, the further room in the back. The only room without a camera.

You look yourself over in the mirror. Your hair appeared to be in place still, as did your makeup. Your lingerie hugs you nicely and your heels were just an added bonus. 

It grows hotter and quieter as you make your way down the hall to the back room - a V.I.P section. You slide the door open and make your way in. Yoongi is seated upon the round, leather section. The room is surrounded with mirrors and low lights. On the table forward him is a large bottle of champagne - the most expensive there was at the club - and two glasses.

“Sit.” Yoongi says as you close the door behind you. He goes to pour both glasses of champagne, handing you one as you round the table.

“Thank you.” you murmur. It takes everything in you not to melt - but you are grown now and no longer the shy teenage girl.

You sit on his lap, legs swinging to trap him between your thighs. Your eyes meet his as you drink the champagne.

Yoongi’s pink tongue coats his lips as he leans back into the couch. He doesn’t go to move you from your laps, and even if you did, you wouldn’t leave without a fight. After all, he paid for your services - private dances weren’t cheap and especially not in the V.I.P backroom.

You discard your glass beside you without a care, licking your own lips.

“Y/N…Y/N…”

Your arms are fresh with goosebumps when you hear his voice say your name. He down the champagne, free hand rubbing against your thigh to your waist. 

“How much you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” Yoongi finally says as he finishes the champagne, discarding his own glass to the side.

“I can say the same for you…” you begin to roll your hips. “...Suga.” All the girls are informed to not be so close to a client. They paid for a certain amount of time - and in that time you were told to stall, only sitting upon them at the last few minutes of the dance.

Yoongi’s hands are as large as you know them to be, both now cupping your waist. 

“How is it that when my name comes from your lips it sounds sweeter than ever before?”

Yoongi’s eyes rack over your figure.

You were no longer the little girl who followed him around against her father’s wishes. No, you were now a woman - a full grown woman who grew into her chest and hips. He recalls the amount of times he (against your own knowledge) would have to assure no creep used your naivety to their advantage.

Yoongi’s girl is what they called you - even back then. No matter how much he told anyone that you were nothing but a close friend to him; someone he would protect because he had a heart.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi allows his curiosity to get the best of him. He was no fool in knowing the pure hatred your father had for him - even if Yoongi never took advantage of your feelings for him. When you were old enough to consider making your own decision, you were shipped far away from Daegu - and that was ten years ago.

You continued your lap dance, your hands placing themselves on his shoulders. Yoongi is but a man and his eyes rack your figure in the tight lingerie, large hands rubbing up your side with a lick of his lips once more.

“My dad sent me to live with my aunt and continue school there.” you respond. “I came back when he got sick.”

Yoongi furrows a brow. Your father was sick. He hasn’t seen the man since he last saw you.

“Dropped out of school to take care of him. Now I’m here.” you roll your hips against the bulge forming in his pants. “With you.”

Yoongi feels your hands rub from his shoulders to his torso.

“What about you, Suga? You seem to have made a name for yourself.”

Yoongi was being far too modest for your liking. You grasp his hands in yours, eyes staring right into his. You allow his hands to roam your body, setting them right onto your breasts.

“I have.” Yoongi murmurs, voice deeper. “I own this city now, baby.”

You swallow at the pet name, leaning closer. You want to capture his lips with your own - they were so rosy and soft. 

“I bet you do.” you murmur, warm breath against his lips. “Does someone run it with you?”

Yoongi tilts his head. He gives you a snicker. “You still got that crush, huh?” he teases. He squeezes your breast lightly before his right hand cups your check.

You grow hot at his words, swallowing thickly. You wouldn’t allow him to treat you like the same little girl you once were. You were an adult - you were in control of your own desires. 

“It’s more than a crush now. I’m not a little girl.”

Yoongi knows this - he wants to tell you just how much you’ve grown since the last time he saw you. 

“I can show you how much it’s grown.” 

Yoongi can’t take his eyes from you. Your tongue peeks out and wraps around his thumb. You suck on it, eyes boring into his own. His cock twitches at the sultry act.

“Y/N…”

You moved fast. From sucking onto his thumb to your lips upon his. Your thighs clenched him beneath you tightly, never wanting to let go. 

Yoongi loses himself in your touch, arms wrapping around your bare body, touching skin he never knew he would ever long to touch. 

Your tongue dances with him, his hands cupping your ass, guiding you to continue to grind against his bulge.

“I want you, Yoongi.” you murmur against his lips. 

“I know, baby.” Yoongi grunts. “I know…”

Your teeth clasps down onto his bottom lips, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Then take me.”

Yoongi shudders, holding onto you even tighter.

“You can have me. All of me.”

Yoongi shakes his head, breathing quickening. Your words ring in his ears non-stop.

“I want to be your girl.” you continue - you refused to hear anything other than approval. “You can have all of me right now and forever.”

Yoongi lips are against the skin of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. Your words are getting to him, his cock begging to take you.

But you weren’t a common whore - not just some pussy to wet his cock. You were someone he cared for deeply.

“You are my girl.”

Your lips meet his once more and your heart feels satisfied - it’s the same words you wanted to hear for years now.

Part 2 | Part 3

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

(Horny Round 2!!!)

Reader is a burlesque dancer, cuz they got mouths to feed, and Old Man Lilia gives them a proposition: put on a show for him and his boys so they can learn how to best please their future lovers. Voyeurism, corruption kink, Daddy Lilia~

Characters are aged up!! I based it off of this YouTube video as well as a few pole-dancing videos.

Warnings: Reader is not Yuu, AFAB but with GN pronouns, corruption kink, voyeurism, pole dancing, strip teasing, lap dance, dry humping, foursome, penetrative (p in v) sex, corruption of the future king and his knights, jerking Sebek and Silver off, overstimulation, creampie(s), blowjob(s)

Diasomnia

There was a dancing troupe coming to the Briar Valley, and they came around annually in the summer because it gave the citizens something to look forward to. Well, it wasn’t just the dancing troupe. It was an entire fair, but the dancing was the main show. During the day, the dances were all child-friendly, and the children were even allowed to hop up on the stage sometimes to join the dancers.

However, after the clock struck 8:30 PM, the doors were closed for children, and the dancers went into their dressing rooms and brought out the more… provocative… outfits. This was a time for an adult audience, and maybe a few teenagers in the older margin who managed to sneak in somehow.

You were with your girls in the back, making sure that your red lipstick was applied pristinely. You had large feathered fans, and a rather revealing outfit that was covered up a bit with a tutu. Your fellow dancers were all hyping each other up, and you saw one of them slap another on the ass as she went on stage, saying go get ‘em, tiger! It made you laugh… until the matron of the troupe called your name.

Getting up from your seat, you walked over, fans in hand, nervous that you were going to get fired. This entire fair was your livelihood. If you were to be let go, not only would you suffer, but so would the family members you’ve been sending money to. Your heart was racing as you walked up to the matron, heels clacking against the floor.

“Y/N, someone has requested our best dancer for a large sum of money. I know the financial situation you are in and you are the first that came to mind. Plus, you are one of our finest dancers, so I am giving you the option, should you accept, to give our esteemed guests a private show.”

“Madame, I don’t mean to sound selfish or money-obsessed, but how-”

“They are offering 1 million thaumarks, and I have the check in this envelope right here,” She held up an envelope, emphasizing that this was real and not a joke. Then, she brought her arm back down, and extended it to you. “You don’t need to have sex with them, but the… leader?... of the group wanted for them to have an experience with something so informal as the fair.”

“Umm…” This was probably the biggest decision of your life. 1 million thaumarks?! There was no way that you were going to pass that up. So, you nodded your head, “Yes, I will do it.”

“Good! This is yours, then! They will be in Room 1 in about 45 minutes. Your routine should be fine, as the man said he wanted it to be ‘culturally enlightening’.” She then walked off, and you were left staring at the envelope now in your hands.

“Holy fu-”

~~~~~~~~

In the aforementioned room, 4 men were sitting, discussing the plan for the evening. Three of them had no idea what was going to happen, while the ‘leader’ was explaining everything.

“Alright, boys. As you know, this is not a children’s show. However, I wanted you to learn something about the art of burlesque dancing. It’s quite sensual, but it gives power to the performer because they have the audience in their hands just with the way they move.”

“LILIA-SAMA, I AM GRATEFUL THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN US THIS EDUCATIONAL OPPORTUNITY, BUT I FAIL TO SEE WHY THIS WOULD BE IMPORTANT!” Sebek was immediately shushed, being told that he needed to keep the volume of his voice down.

“Well, it will teach-” Lilia was cut off by the room going dark. The thing about these rooms was that they were really smaller-scale tents behind the large one. In addition to that, the small tents had platforms in the middle of them for the dancer, along with a pole.

Spotlights came on, highlighting you and your large fans. You were wearing a bustier, corset, panties, and a tutu, and you were wearing bright red lipstick as well as elbow-length gloves. Your heels sparkled in the light. You bent down, one leg in front of the other, using one fan to cover your rear end and the other to point at your outstanding foot.

“Hello, boys~” Your voice said. Then, the music started up, and you started to dance. Sharply moving your hips up and down, making sure that your toes were always pointed so that your legs looked longer. You could feel their hungry gazes on you, and you smiled as you reached your hands behind you, going to untie the tutu.

Shimmying it down your waist, you could tell who the leader was. You know he had been at previous adult shows, as his pink hair was hard to miss. However, based on the reactions of the one with light green hair and the one with silver hair, you guessed that this was the first adult show they had been to. You were happy to be their first. As for the one with the horns, you could see that he was genuinely interested in the art as well as you.

Once it was off, you threw it like a frisbee to the man with green hair. You smiled and winked at him as his face was glowing an even brighter red. Truly, his face would put your red lipstick to shame.

You then turned to the silver-haired one and ushered him over to the stage. You turned around, making sure to bend over as much as you could, and then you asked if he could untie your corset. He nodded his head and went to untie it, struggling a little because his hands were shaking. You heard the ‘leader’ shout something.

“Let him take it off of you!”

Smiling, you looked at the man and he was also frozen in place. Did you really have that effect on men?

Whispering, you asked, “Would you like to help me take it off?” You giggled as he nodded, pulling at the strings pair by pair, and you worked on unclasping the front of it. Once it was off, you threw it to the horned man while placing a rather passionate kiss on the silver-haired man’s lips. Breaking apart, you saw that you left red lipstick on his lips, but you gently pushed him back in his seat.

Standing back up, you headed to the pole. You weren’t as advanced in pole dancing as some of your fellow dancers, but you did know how to do the basics. You grabbed the pole, pulling your body to it, slowly sliding down, placing your fans down on the ground. Once you were squatting down, you started grinding against the pole. You stood back up slowly, locking eyes with the leader, and then you sauntered over to him after picking up one of your fans.

Straddling him, you threw your arms around his neck and he placed his hands upon your hips gently, making sure you aren’t feeling pressured to do anything you don’t want to. You placed a kiss on his lips this time, making sure to rub your clothed regions against his growing boner. For him being a rather small man, you could tell that he definitely had a disproportionate size, but it just further served to arouse you.

This small group of men was different from others you have danced for. They appreciated your art, and they weren’t groping you in a way that made you uncomfortable. They allowed you to go to them first, and you loved it. You stood up, repositioning yourself in a reverse cowgirl position, and leaned back into him. He placed kisses upon the crook of your neck, and you used your fan to cover up the way you were grinding back down on him.

You can’t remember a time where you felt genuine pleasure from one of these dances, but you felt yourself growing wet as you continued your actions. You felt one of his hands slowly reach up to cup your bra-clad breast and one reach down to your panties, giving you a chance to stop him, but you didn’t. You instead tossed away your fan so that the other guys could see what was going on.

“Call me ‘Lilia’, love~” He whispered into your ear before using his fangs to bite into your neck. There was a bit of pain, but pleasure soon followed, and it wasn’t enough to draw blood anyway. Otherwise, you might have guessed he was a vampire.

“Call me ‘Y/N’,” You whispered back, letting out a gasp when he started rubbing your clit. His other hand went under your bra and he started fondling your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You looked back at the other men and you were surprised to see them drawing closer.

“Alright, Y/N. I wanted you here because I want to teach these boys how to pleasure somebody. However, I need verbal consent,” He said louder, stopping what he was doing so that you could answer.

“You have my consent, Lilia,” Upon saying that, he immediately shoved a finger into your awaiting pussy, making you moan at the sudden intrusion. You could feel his finger curling and moving inside of you, and you simply wanted more. 

As your hips rolled to try and get more friction, you ended up rubbing more and more against his erection, making him groan. 

“So wet for me~” He snickered, looking at your little audience, “Boys, you never want to just go right ahead and stick your dick inside someone without a little bit of preparation and foreplay. After all, you want them to be aroused and participating.

That’s another thing: basic consent and participation. Depending on what you are into, all parties involved must be participating and making sure it is a pleasurable experience for those involved.

Please stand up, love.” 

You followed his orders, saddened that he took his hands out of your bra and panties. Then, you heard his belt unbuckle and his pants slide down, and you felt your underwear slide down your legs. The cold air hits your exposed regions like a block of ice, making you shudder. It didn’t go unnoticed by anybody in the tent.

“Now you may sit back down,” Lining up your entrance with the tip of his cock, he put his hands on your hips to guide you. Feeling him fill you up finally could have made you cum alone, but his size made your eyes roll back in pleasure. You tried covering your mouth to block any moans from coming out, but his hand blocked yours. “Let those pretty noises out, dearie. These boys need to learn what pleasure sounds like.”

Nodding, you put your hand back down as he started to guide you up and down on his cock. 

Oh, oh, ohhh’s enunciated each drop down, with an occasional fuckkkk. You didn’t even notice the silver and green-haired knights get close and right next to you, unbuckling their pants as well. 

“Y/N, you wouldn’t mind giving these guys a bit of the pleasure you’re feeling, would you?” You looked to see them with their dicks out, and you quickly reached out your arms and hands to start jerking them off. The horned man continued watching you all, a smirk on his face.

Up, down, up, down, up, down. Your hips went up and down on Lilia’s member, your hands went up and down on the knights’ cocks, the horned man’s eyes went up and down following you. Every single time Lilia hit that special spot inside of you, you squeezed on the dicks in your hands, making the two men groan.

The man with bright green hair had already came, and now he was just a tad sensitive. You guessed he was at least part fae based on his fangs, so his durability had to be amazing. If you were being honest, you were not far behind, and you found your climax washing over you as you slumped, but your eyes snapped open when Lilia kept thrusting up into you.

“You didn’t think I was done… did you? Neither are any of these fine gentlemen. Tell me, Y/N, where do you want me to cum?” 

“I-Inside… Please, please, please inside!” You cried, and you had felt another orgasm wash over you as he came inside of you. You were panting, feeling the warmth of his cum painting your walls white.

“I would be willing to have a turn with them, Lilia,” The horned man said, and his height intimidated you. The dick imprint that you could see against his pants intimidated you as well. However, you found yourself somehow getting aroused again, and, stumbling, you walked over to him.

With a snap of his fingers, you saw that his pants were off and folded neatly on the side. His size was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. To be fair, it’s not like you slept around, but you have had a few flings here and there in the different places you performed. No beastmen could come close to comparing.

“I’m aware I’m… better endowed than most. If you wish, I could prepare you more-”

“That isn’t going to be necessary, sir. I think I’m ready.” You really need to think about what you say before you say it, but you just couldn’t wait to have that absolute monster inside of you. You decided that you would straddle him, cowgirl-style, so that you could work at your own pace.

However, he had other plans.

Placing his hands on your hips, he shoved you all the way down, and tears leaked from your eyes. You groaned in both pain and pleasure, burying your head in his shoulder, adjusting to his size.

“Tell me when you want to start moving.” It took a few moments, but you eventually nodded and he began moving you up and down again. Luckily, he had strength to do it for you entirely, as your legs gave up.

“Do you think you could bend backwards enough to suck this young man off?” Lilia asked. Being a dancer granted you a level of flexibility that actually allowed you to do this. You leaned back as far as you could, just to be met with the silver-haired man’s cock. 

Oh, yeah… he hasn’t cum yet, you realized. Opening your mouth, he slid the tip in. It was quite unusual to be giving a blowjob in this position, but you were always down to be a bit more adventurous in such activities. His size was the smallest in this group of men, but it still wasn’t anything to laugh at.

“Oh, fuck…” The man muttered under his breath. What you couldn’t see was that as he was thrusting into your throat slowly, there was a bit of a bulge. Your mouth was so warm. You moaned around his dick, adding even more stimulation. On your left, Lilia and the green-haired man were each stroking themselves, watching you get absolutely railed by these two men.

Earlier that day, your matron said you didn’t have to have sex with them. Lilia even told you that you could tell them to stop. However, they were both wrong. You did have to have sex with them, and you couldn’t tell them to stop. If you turned this down, you might have to have yourself committed to a mental asylum because no one in their right mind would turn down an opportunity like this.

[gayest-classiclit]

Classic Literature Sexyperson Tournament; Round 1

propaganda:

Quincey:

quincey deserves #1 sexyman prize. he is the token cowboy. in a gothlit book. his first instinct when in danger in to randomly shoot through windows to (scare the shit out of) protect his friends. he decided he would literally die for a group of people he met like 3 hours ago because they seemed nice enough. he's texan for christ's sake. tropes: angst (dead), bait, distinctive voice, LGTBQ+ coded (dracula polycule is canon bram told me so), himbo (-ish), well dressed (cowboy).

Dracula:

owwsaawoagghb. older gentleman who is very regal and polite and is a fucking vampire how much sexier can you get

Obv everyone knows vampire sexy. The sensuality of drinking blood is *chef's kiss*. But I just really wanted an excuse to share this one thing, that isn't even related directly to the novel. So, my junior year of high school we read Dracula, and then our class went on a field trip to see a local theatre group perform the Dracula stage play-- and EVERY TIME Dracula came on stage, his neckline would progressively dip Lower and Lower (like. Comedically so) until he was soooo close to showing just straight up tiddie, but still juuuust barely not-- the tease was immaculate and istg it was doing Something for everyone in the audience. It was transcendent. An awakening. Even all these years later when my old high school friends and I bring it up, the only detail we can remember from that performance is Count Dracula's plunging neckline and that's Gotta count for something right

[gurugirl]

The Amateur | Special Preview

sugardaddy!ceo!harry x burlesque!dancer!yn

New Patreon exclusive short series preview! Part 1 out now on Patreon!

Series Summary: Y/n is a down-on-her-luck burlesque dancer sleeping in her car. Harry is a wealthy CEO looking for someone to spoil.

Preview Word Count: 1.7k

Her costume was lost or had never been ordered. She wasn’t sure. So, instead of having her first dance routine that night, she was booked to serve cocktails for a private party. Not how she envisioned her dance career progressing, but a job was a job. She needed the money. She needed to eat.

She was given a basic outfit to serve cocktails in. There were four cocktail waitresses. The little outfit was a bit showy for such a job, but she wouldn’t stick her nose up at it.

She curled her hair and pinned the front back and applied makeup. She adjusted her little outfit and tugged at the hem of the skirt. It barely covered her bottom. The tall heels were a touch too small for her feet but she took deep breaths and kept calm. The private party was in a large room (not the main room) with a small bar, some tables, and a stage.

She stood toward the entrance and watched the room get set up.

When the guests who’d booked the private party arrived, Y/n took her spot as directed and saw a group of ten men with nice suits and big attitudes walk in.

She immediately walked up to the table assigned to her and smiled brightly, “Welcome! Can I get you started off with a drink gentlemen?”

There were three tables for the guests and four cocktail waitresses spread amongst them.

Two beers, a whiskey neat.

Back and forth.

A round of shots for the group.

Water. Don’t forget the lemon.

No ice for the one with the grey suit and pink tie.

Her feet were killing her. She leaned against the bar and slid her shoes off for a moment of relief. The fucking things were an inch too high and a half inch too small, and she was struggling. She took a breather and watched over the table she was working. They had just gotten fresh refills and more water so they would be good for a bit.

The dancers on stage were having fun. Y/n could tell they were fill-ins. Not main stage worthy. Like Y/n, amateurs most likely.

Bethany put her hand on the bar next to Y/n, “Can you take my table their drinks? I need to go to the bathroom,” she told Y/n the order and ran off.

The bartender quickly got the order ready and Y/n reluctantly slid the borrowed heels back onto her feet. Somehow, the short rest for her feet only made putting the tight shoes back on worse. Her gait was affected. Her heels were blistered, and her toes were smushed in. She tried to maintain a natural stride on her way to the table but the only way she could stand to walk was to go very slowly.

“IPA?” She lifted the pint up and a man raised his hand as she placed the glass in front of him.

She handed off the drinks one by one and the last was a bourbon on the rocks. The only man who’d not yet been served was looking at her with anticipation of receiving his drink. She moved toward him and her attempt to not step fully down onto her heel had caused her to lose her balance and she dumped the whiskey onto the man’s nice suit.

She gasped and so did the man. Kicking her heels off she ran to the bar to grab towels and then back to the table.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry, sir! This is my fault. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning…” She got to her knees and placed the towel over the top of his thigh and looked up at his face with worry and noted his surprised smile.

She used her other hand to wipe the table as she blotted the towel over his thigh. She had not expected a smile from him.

“Don’t worry. Happens to us all. I don’t need you to pay for the dry cleaning either,” he said as he took the towel from her.

His voice was calm and deep. He sounded British. She stood up and stared down at the man and realized how kind he looked. His smile was genuine and the dimples poking into his cheeks were boyish and cute. He had crystal green eyes and broad shoulders. He was handsome. She was thankful that he was kind.

“I’m really so sorry, sir. I feel so bad. I’ll get another one for you and make sure to put all your drinks on the house,” she knelt down to pick up her heels and as she turned to go back to the bar the man gently grabbed her wrist, “Another bourbon is fine. You don’t need to comp any of my drinks, though. Please. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.”

She looked down to where he had her wrist. He had rings along his long fingers. His hand was big. She looked back up to his face with a smile, “Are you sure?”

The man with curly brown hair smiled and nodded, “I’m sure.”

The rest of the night was far less exciting. When Bethany returned Y/n went back to her original spot. But she couldn’t stop herself from looking at the other table to the man who’d been so kind to her, even after she ruined his suit. He was attractive and it was clear to Y/n that Bethany also thought so. She gave extra attention to him. Anyone would.

When the guests had left and Y/n could put on her sneakers, the room got cleared and everyone went their separate ways. The club didn’t serve food, which Y/n had kind of hoped it would. She was hungry. She’d barely eaten anything all day long. Her day started off early trying to perfect the routine but then after hours of practice, she learned she wouldn’t be on stage because her costume was nowhere to be found.

Running back and forth in tight heels to serve liquor was just as tiresome as dancing on a stage. And being hungry on top of it all was brutal. Her stomach was growling as she walked out of the club and to her car parked at the side of the building where all the employees parked.

“There you are!” The voice of a familiar-sounding man startled her.

Y/n jumped and lifted her head to find the British guy with the bourbon-stained suit approaching her. Her eyes widened. As nice as he seemed in the club, she was hesitant to give him her full trust at 1 am in a dark parking lot with no one else around.

The man stopped in his tracks, “I’m sorry. I know you probably didn’t expect to see me, but I noticed you walking out and thought I’d just come and, I don’t know… maybe say hi,” he suddenly seemed more timid. Perhaps he realized how scary it could be as a woman to be approached by a man in this way.

Y/n gripped her keys tight and looked around. His soft smile put her at ease a little, “Yeah. I figured you guys all left already. I was just leaving for the night. Everything okay?”

Even in her alert state, she still wanted to make sure the man was all right. She was probably too nice for her own good.

His husky laugh sounded like relief in Y/n’s ears and it made her smile, “Everything’s fine. I was hanging back. I have a friend who works here. Just happened to see you leaving is all.”

Dimples.

Bright eyes.

Dark curls.

Tattoos, that she hadn’t noticed until now with his sleeves bunched up to his elbows.

He was attractive and his demeanor slowly put her at ease. She loosened the grip on the keys in her hand and finally smiled at him genuinely.

“Oh. Who do you know?”

“The owner. Richard. Short guy,”

“Bald,” Y/n spoke with a smile and Harry grinned back at her and nodded.

“Yeah. I’ve known him for years. Always lets me get in for a quick last-minute private party if I need. A lot of my colleagues enjoy the atmosphere.”

Y/n nodded and kept her eyes on the man. They both fell silent.

“Uh,” he lifted his hand up in a waving gesture and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m Harry.”

Y/n’s smile widened, “Y/n. It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry nodded and stayed in his spot on the other side of her little car. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by getting too close.

“So, guess you’re headed home, huh?” Harry looked at her little silver car and back to her.

Y/n nodded, “Yep,” she didn’t know what home meant but she would consider her car her home at the moment.

Harry looked down at his feet and back toward the car, “I uh, are you new here? I mean, I only ask because I’ve never seen you around.”

Y/n nodded, “First day. Was supposed to be in the main room on stage but my costume was never ordered or it was lost, or I don’t know… So they had me serving cocktails. I just need the money so I’ll do almost anything at this point,” she laughed and her shoulders relaxed a little more.

Harry’s brows furrowed and he frowned, “Understandable.”

The silence grew loud again and Y/n shifted on her feet. Suddenly the sound of her stomach gurgling in hunger filled in the space in between them and she laughed it off, “Wow. I should uh, go get something to eat.”

Harry kept the small frown on his face, “Well, there are plenty of places open. Vegas baby. Right?” He chuckled lightly, “I guess I should leave you alone, huh? So you can find a spot to grab a meal,” Harry spoke as he backed away from her car, and slowly headed toward the main parking area.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Harry. Thank you for being so kind to me on my first day,” she slid the key into her door to unlock it and kept her eyes on the man.

He nodded and put his hands into his pockets, “It was nice meeting you, Y/n. And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again. I’m around often.”

A/N: This 3 part series will only be posted on Patreon. If you'd like more of this, I'd be so thankful to you for subscribing! xoxo

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group H Round 1: #H3 vs #H6

#H3: Two guys time-travel through photos. Depression ensues.

Best friends, roommates, and business partners Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang run a photo studio, developing pictures and the like. But that’s not all they do. The Shiguang Photo Studio has a secret extra service—they can deliver messages you never got to send and find information you never got to learn, so long as you bring a photograph, or maybe several.

Their method? A clap of the hands, and Cheng Xiaoshi dives into the past and into the body of the photographer. Guided by Lu Guang, he has twelve hours to achieve his goal, whether that is finding a secret, saying goodbye, or winning a fight.

Assisted by their friend and landlady Qiao Ling, the duo navigates a gallery of corporate lies, interpersonal drama, old regrets, and crime. The recently released second season continues threads that begin in the first episode of season one, showcasing the same level of brilliant writing and even higher stakes for our beloved characters.

#H6: Cozy slice of life about a high school girl with a camera

In her last year of middle school, Fuu Sawatari had trouble dealing with her emotions following the sudden death of her father. Through the help of her brother and childhood friend, she rediscovered her love for photography, an activity she and her father often did together. In addition, she decided to attend high school in Takehara, her father's hometown and a place they often visited when she was younger.

It has been one month now since Fuu moved to Takehara and became close with her current group of friends: carefree Kaoru Hanawa, excitable Norie Okazaki, and quiet Maon Sakurada. Together with them and several acquaintances around town and abroad, Fuu continues her mission of capturing the joys of everyday life using her father's camera, while also helping her friends discover their own passions.

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#H3: Link Click (Shiguang Dailiren)

Propaganda:

(Admin: Five people submitted different propagandas for this. Instead of posting each of them as they are and making this post even longer, I merged them altogether for coherence and brevity.)

Link Click is a show that is criminally underrated outside of China that it’s become a running meme in the fandom (i.e. Link Click fans to everyone they know: WATCH LINK CLICK!!!). Some people are just so resistant to watching anything Chinese that even others in the Link Click subreddit prefer its Japanese dub—which is sad because they don’t get to hear certain nuances in the original audio. It’s also just really frustrating how xenophobic people can get.

Anyways, the beauty of Link Click lies in its simplicity. For a time-travel show, you’d expect our characters to tackle on tasks that involve the fate of the world or something, but no. In Link Click, it’s all about the ordinary person. All the people Cheng Xiaoshi dived into have been your everyday person—an office woman who gets harassed at work, a restaurant owner who’s grown estranged from her best friend, a man who misses his first love and his old friends, a man who wants to gain the approval of his girlfriend’s family, etc. Even when the stakes go high in season 2, the core of the conflicts still lie in the personal problems that the characters face—which may seem small in the grand scheme of things, but they are not any less important.

And I think that’s beautiful. It’s hard to relate to grand plots of saving the world or facing an apocalypse and whatnot, but it’s easy to relate to the day-to-day struggles that humans face. 

But it’s also depressing, in a way. Link Click is very adamant that the past remain unchanged. Cheng Xiaoshi has to go there, do his mission, and then leave the past as it is—which is difficult when he gets to feel the emotions of the person he’s possessing. Many times he wants to change things for the better, but Lu Guang always pulls him back. 

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang’s relationship is also really nice. Cheng Xiaoshi is the empathic and reckless type, while Lu Guang is the rational and cold (but inwardly a dork) type. They balance each other out, and when they have conflicts, they face it maturely. They also care for each other so so much that the moment the other is in danger, all their personal philosophies get thrown out the window just to ensure the other person’s safety.

The male characters also cry without getting emasculated. They have mental breakdowns that are done so well and feel like a real reaction instead of just the solitary tear down one’s cheek. 

Link Click… is not a gentle show. It will strongly grab your heartstrings and make you cry several times. It doesn’t pull its punches, and it’s always happy to hit you with the “past or future, just let them be” beam. It is cruel, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lastly, Link Click is really about friends being there for each other in hard times, and knowing that while it’s impossible to take all those painful memories back, it is possible to take them with you in the future and turn them into something beautiful.

On Soundtrack: The soundtrack of this show is just amazing. The s1 opening song may seem all fun and games with the finger-tutting, but after s2, you’ll realize how meaningful the lyrics are. The s1 ending is also iconic for us fans. It starts playing before the episode ends, and the ominous start of the song always sends chills down our spines because it signals that something has gone wrong.

The s2 soundtrack gets even better. The s2 opening’s second chorus is basically just the first chorus played in reverse. The director specifically requested for a song that would sound good even when played in reverse, and it’s amazing how the band managed to pull off something so difficult. The s2 ending, like the s1 ed, continues the Link Click style of playing before the episode actually ends, making the last few moments of the episode even more emotional.

Trigger Warnings:

S1: Flashing lights in the opening, attempted and implied sexual harassment, slight panic attack, death, kidnapping, drugging, suicide, blood. Complete list of TW’s for s1 can be found here (it may be spoilery)

S2: Fast-changing images in the opening, domestic abuse, child abuse, emotional abuse, violence, blood, murder.

#H6: Tamayura: Hitotose

Propaganda:

No stakes, only warmth. Tamayura: Hitotose is the single coziest anime I have ever watched. It is like Moomins or Studio Ghibli (without all the excitement), in that after watching it you feel like the greatest magic the world has ever known is a home-made bowl of soup, a trip to the mountains, a photograph of a memory. Which is all true. Animes like this teach you to live right, and that's why we need them. Also to teach us to be "more aggressivu!" If you ever have a really rough day/week/month/year/decade, let your soul be soothed and watch Tamayura: Hitotose.

Trigger Warnings: Unknown.

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

[splatoonusna]

We've received an update on the Splatoon 3 World Championship 2024, happening on 4/13 & 4/14! Day 1 features a round robin group stage with Turf War matches, & Day 2 features Anarchy Battle tournament matches including all modes.

See full details here: https://ninten.do/6019cb32N

[cringefaillosersummit]

Round 1 - Group 3B

Submission notes under cut. Some submissions had notes others did not:

Deandra “Dee” Reynolds:

Everyone she dates dumps her within a week, her entire friend group dunks on her exclusively yet she still stays with them, she banged dozens of ugly men, is always the butt of every joke and became a crackhead just to scam welfare

Look at her. She cannot function the one time she was close to being a normal human being was when she disowned her twin brother but even then she went back to being friends with him and became cringefail icon

Gotō "Bocchi" Hitori:

Bocchi is a walking ball of anxiety who likes to hide herself away in boxes and trashcans. A bunch of birds once stole her food and then attacked her because they were annoyed by how weak and pathetic looking she was. She got so nervous being asked a simple question by her band mate she decided to stage dive into the crowd at her school's cultural festival and landed flat on her face. She's so pathetic that when her band mate's moved her bangs so they could better see her face she couldn't handle the stress of having her face exposed and she turned into ash. When her band mate's inhaled her ashes they became infected with her patheticness.

She plays the guitar from inside a cardboard box. Have you seen her?

Crippling social anxiety. Difficulty communicating. No social life at the start of the series.

[leebrontide]

A legit way to fight the climate crisis from where you're sitting right now

As promised, in honor of Earth Day, I've written some suggestions for how you can write a letter to the editor for your local paper, and reach some people who otherwise might get a more...shall we say restricted view of climate news. Letters to the Editor remain a surprisingly important political vehicle. People see letters to the editor and they feel like they're hearing from their neighbors- real people with authentic, down-to-earth agendas. They're the second most read part of the paper, after the front page. Take that stage!

Step 1- Pick an article in your local paper to respond to. Today is Earth day, and lots of papers will have at least something about climate crisis or environmental protection on it's pages. Local papers are better, because, as you can imagine, papers like The New Yorker get a lot more submissions to compete against, and anyways they don't have the same sense of local opinion.

Don't fret if your local paper leans conservative! That means it has readers we REALLY need to reach! And they may be more open to reading about these issues in a paper than online, which particularly a lot of older, don't feel like "the real world".

Step 2- Figure out what you're going to say! Maybe there's a glaring error in the article you want to address. BUT, if you're not sure, you can look up your local organization that's fighting for these goals. For example, I could look up and find MN350, because I'm in Minnesota. Going to their social media and their webpage/newsletter archive gives me an inside look at what people who are really immersed in these subjects have to say about what's going on.

So, for example, I see that my local group applauds Minneapolis's efforts at going to all clean energy, and has a timeline, but that people on the inside are saying that without a dedicated funding stream, people implementing these changes will have to either hope federal funding stays stable or fight for funding in the city council every year. Ok, now when there's an article about Minneapolis's plans, I have something to say.

Step 3- Draft it up.

The goal here is to be short and to the point.

Opening line: Identify which article you're responding to, and maybe your feeling about it.

First paragraph: What is the specific issue? What is a relevant fact and why does it  warrant public concern?

Second paragraph: What would you say that we do in response, or what would you ask your neighbors to do?  Why?

Third paragraph: What is currently being done to address the issue and how could people who have been persuaded act?

This should be no more than 150 to 250 words TOTAL.

While you're wording it, some things to keep in mind- stats and facts are good, but don't use a lot of acronyms or jargon. Expect your readers to be coming at this with about an 8th grade education.

If you have a sense of what the people you're talking to find persuasive, lean into that. For example, for my letter to the editor, I emphasized that chaotic funding leads to lack of ability to plan ahead or bulk-buy. I know the people I'm talking to like things to be common-sense and detest governmental waste, so that's an easy one.

If you want extra help, I have a list of best practices for communicating about the climate crisis right here.

Step 4- Proofread, then submit it via whatever process your local paper has. The goal, if you can manage is, is to submit something within 48 hours of the original article's publication. That's the sweet spot for most papers.

BONUS ROUND!

You did that, and still have a little energy for the environment left? There's one more thing you can do to super-charge your effort!

Guess what, you can stack the deck in favor of your specific letter being published.

But it will involve using a phone.

That's right, if you REALLY wanna turbo boost this thing, you're gonna call the paper (or have your non-phone-adverse-friend or family member pretend to be you and call the paper).

Call as soon as possible after the editor would have received the material.

Use pleasant persistence to speak with the right person. Don’t stop at a receptionist or secretary. Create enough POLITE urgency about your letter that you get through to the specific reporter or editor who will decide whether or not to print your piece.

Provide the editor with specific local info and urgency. Focus your conversation on why this issue is relevant to their readers.

Get specific feedback and/or a specific commitment from the reporter. If they don’t want to print the letter, find out why and what adjustments you can make to get it printed.

If they agree to print it, find out when you can expect to see it in the paper. The you can tell other people. Even if memaw isn't a big climate activist, she might show your letter to everybody she knows if she knows you wrote it.

And that's the process! I know that's a lot of information to throw at you, but ultimately, it can be pretty quick to crank these things out. And, again, these have been proven to be powerful persuaders. We need as many people as we can to be in this fight, so go and get them!

And always remember, you're not just combating ignorance, you're combating hopelessness, helplessness, and burnout! You can inspire people to think about what's possible.

PS if any of you actually do this, please let me know. It'd make me so happy.

@onbearfeet @basil-gardens @punkypine @rederiswrites @veritatemquarens @radioraja

[plant-taxonomy-showdown]

Phylum Round 1

The Other Kind of Gymnosperm vs Red Algae

Gnetophyta: I don't really know what's going on with these plants. They're gymnosperms (like pine trees -- seeds yes, flowers no) but there's only 70 species in three genera, and all three genera look pretty different from each other. And I'm not the only one scratching my head here, according to Wikipedia, "Unlike most biological groupings, it is difficult to find many common characteristics between all of the members of the gnetophytes." The phylum includes vines, shrubs, and less commonly trees. Welwitschia mirabilis (shown above) lives in the Namib desert in Africa and can grow up to 4 meters or 13 feet in diameter.

Rhodophyta: Arguably not a plant, sometimes a seaweed (the seaweed used in sushi is a red alga.) Over 7,000 known species. Most live in the ocean. No chloroplasts, but they can be green anyways, or pink or brown or purple or almost black, or of course red. Most red algae are multicellular and can be seen without a microscope, and they mostly reproduce sexually. As with many plants they often have alternation of generations, but may have three stages rather than two. A distinguished member of the phylum is corraline algae, which is essential in forming coral reefs.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Joanna Pettet (The Group, Casino Royale, The Best House in London)—no propaganda submitted

Ann-Margret (Bye Bye Birdie, Viva Las Vegas)—While she started as a singer, the lovely and talented Ann-Margret also left her mark as an actress in Hollywood. She won a Golden Globe for her first role in Pocketful of Miracles and was nominated again for Bye Bye Birdie, and very nearly stole the show from Elvis Presley himself in Viva Las Vegas.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ann-Margret:

She can sing! She can dance! She had excellent chemistry with Elvis! She reportedly survived a 22 foot fall off of a stage! The movies and old and problematic but I love her 1000%

Joanna Pettet: