#they are in a particular order but it's like

[sayruq]

The Israeli army is likely to carry out a fresh massacre in the northern Gaza Strip town of Beit Lahia, initiating a new round of forced evacuation orders against its estimated 50,000 citizens who remained in the area. The UN and other international parties need to take immediate action to protect Palestinian civilians. After declaring the town of Beit Lahia to be a "dangerous combat zone" and threatening to "act with extreme force," the Israeli army started to launch heavy air and artillery attacks on the town, followed by fresh evacuation orders. The Israeli army set up shelters for the town of Beit Lahia's residents to evacuate towards known shelters in blocks number 1770, 1766, but these were originally destroyed areas that are unfit for any form of life and lack water supply as well as functioning sewage systems. The two designated evacuation points are unsafe areas and, like all areas of the town of Beit Lahia in particular, and the northern Gaza Strip in general, have previously been subjected to widespread destruction, including shelter centres and public facilities, as a result of the ongoing Israeli military attack since October 7. In light of the ongoing crimes of genocide and forced displacement policy in the Gaza Strip, every area designated by the Israeli army as a military operation area is completely destroyed, subjected to a strict and oppressive siege, and horrifically massacred, as the remaining residents have nowhere safe to flee. In the absence of strong international accountability mechanisms and any swift international action to put an end to these crimes, which have been going on for six months, the military operation that the Israeli army launched in the town of Beit Lahia will result in more serious crimes and violations of international humanitarian law and international human rights law. The town of Beit Lahia was the scene of multiple large-scale military operations by the Israeli army during the previous seven months of its military assault on the Gaza Strip. One such operation occurred at the end of December last year, which resulted in extensive damage to homes, infrastructure, and civil and service facilities, with the town's buildings and infrastructure being destroyed to the tune of approximately 90%. The Israeli army's Beit Lahia military operation is taking place on the 200th day of the massive military assault on the Gaza Strip, which has had horrific consequences due to its direct and deliberate targeting of Palestinian civilians amid the shameful international inaction to oblige Israel to abide by international humanitarian law and the orders of the International Court of Justice to stop its genocide crime.

[mortra]

prettiest covers imo in no particular order

falin- just ethereal, so pretty bbg

kabru- I just really like how the colors remind me of candy crush lol

mithrun- mithrun, so pretty. I love the composition. yassified mithrun

izutsumi- really interesting dynamic and angle

golden lion- need i even say anything?

some runner-ups

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ JH⁸⁶

TRACK 18 ─── IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | almost a year ago, your whole was shattered by the one person you'd never thought would hurt you. and now you were back in the city where it all started with one simple mission ─ get him back.

─ word count | 2.5k

─ warnings | oof where do i begin, angst? obviously second-chance romance, slightly suggestive, mention of drinking/getting tipsy, jack being a cocky ass, slightly fluffy? idk just a lot of word vomit but yeah!

─ taglist |

─ ev's notes | yaya! first ttpd celly fic is out!! hoorayyeeee!!! also i've been listening to this album like on fucking repeat since friday and holy shit, this is probably my third fav now (sorry speak now). i also literally can't choose a fav but according to my music app, i've listened to so high school 72 times since it came out!!!!!!!!

YOU SWORE YOU'D NEVER COME back to New Jersey ─ but, here you were.

How you ended up here, tipsy and alone in this bar? You're not exactly sure. What you do know is that the night started in your childhood home with your parent's very expensive bottle of wine. And now you were here, in downtown Jersey in one of your old high school dresses that fits a little tighter than it did almost 5 years ago.

Your lips were stained red as you ordered another glass of Blueberry Gin & Tonic. You didn't know when you had started drinking Gin & Tonic but a lot had changed in the last couple of months. You didn't even know who you really were anymore, it was blurry.

And you could blame all of that on your high-school sweetheart ─ the person you'd thought you'd spend the rest of your life with. Key word: thought, as in past-tense.

As you swirled the ice in your glass, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your mind. The late-night drives down highway roads, the whispered promises of forever, and the way your heart used to skip a beat at the sight of his smile. But somewhere along the way, those promises faded into echoes, and the smiles became almost bitter memories.

It all came crashing down a few months ago. The pain was like a dagger through your heart, leaving you gasping for air in a world suddenly devoid of color. You lost the one person in your life who made you, you. You had to relearn who you really were without him.

And in the aftermath, you tried to pick up the pieces of your shattered and almost confusing life, but the wounds were too deep, the scars too raw. So you ran, running from the memories that now haunted you, seeking solace in the anonymity of far-away cities and unfamiliar faces.

But no matter how far you ran, you couldn't outrun the ghosts of your past. They followed you like shadows, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

And tonight was no different.

When your eyes locked with his familiar blue ones, a particular ghost of your past appeared. And you didn't miss the way you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw his now grown-out hair (you'd never let him grow it out when you were together) and his soft stubble that you always made him shave. But it suited him, he looked more mature.

But you weren't surprised, it almost seemed like fate. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that you knew, in the back of your mind, he always liked spending his Saturdays playing pool with his friends, in this exact bar. You pretended like you hadn't planned this entire thing.

And so you feigned ignorance, pretending as if you hadn't noticed him at all. You kept gazing at him, taking him in. You felt the anger rise in your body as your nose flared, beginning to think sober up again. You took another swig of your drink and turned away from him, you could practically hear the wheels turning inside his head as he analyzed you right back.

A few moments pass and as you predicted, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Y/N?"

You met his gaze and it felt so much different from the last time he'd looked at you. He looked... surprised? Is that even the right word? You felt his eyes scan you up and down, the tight dress fitting you perfectly in his mind.

You, too, had changed since the last time he'd saw you. Your hair was slightly shorter and more put together, you looked healthier and more mature. Less like a teenager and more like an adult now, but that's just how aging works, right? Not only did your looks change, but the way you carried yourself.

God, you were sexy. Jack always knew you were beautiful, it was undeniable. But after not seeing you for months now, you looked like a dream ─ a hauntingly beautiful vision that stirred something deep within him. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you carried yourself, with a newfound confidence and poise that spoke of strength.

He was at a loss of words. But it was Jack, of course he didn't let it show. He plastered on his award-winning smirk and let his gaze fall back on to your face. "I didn't know you were back in Jersey, you shoulda texted."

Your face contorted into surprise. Was he really trying to pretend like nothing happened? Oh, two can play that game. "I was just visiting family." Your red lips turned into a tipsy smile. "But you're right, I should've texted. How have you been?"

"Awesome. Is this seat taken?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled out a chair and sat down. He glanced down at your drink, the smirk still very much evident in face.

God, how much you wanted to just smash his face in. But you swallowed the anger with your drink, letting him study you for a few more moments.

"Since when do you drink?" His tone was amused as he watched you swallow the liquid so effortlessly, like it was water.

Since you left, you wanted to shout. "Not until recently."

You watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "And what brought about this newfound appreciation for alcohol?" He asked, his tone still but the underlying curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Life." you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Life has a funny way of changing things."

He nodded, as if he understood, but you could see the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know the half of it, didn't know the pain and the heartache you had endured in his absence. And part of you wanted to keep it that way, wanted to shield him from the truth of how much he had hurt you.

But another part of you, a smaller part buried deep within all the hurt and bitterness, wanted him to know. Wanted him to see the scars he had left on your soul, to feel the weight of the words left unsaid between you. But not to burden him, to somehow reverse all the pain he'd caused you.

"So, what have you been up to?" you asked, deflecting the conversation away from yourself. "Anything exciting?" By anything, you really meant anyone.

You saw the way Jack's smirk faltered as he shook his head. "Nope, nothin' new." But he knew that you knew the real answer.

Two months, it took him two months to move on from a 4 year relationship. "Really?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism. "No new hobbies, no new friends, no new... interests?"

Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer to you, his gaze locking with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, I might have picked up a few new hobbies," he admitted, his voice low. "But nothing as exciting as running into you here, that's for sure."

Despite yourself, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of your lips at his charming response. He had always had a way with words, a charisma that could disarm even the most guarded of hearts.

"There she is," his voice was soft as he watched the curves of your lips turn upward. "I missed that."

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and longing swirling within you like a whirlpool. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was still a part of you that missed the comfort of his presence, the familiarity of his smile.

"Well, don't let it get to your head," you teased, although the playful tone of your voice couldn't mask the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "I wouldn't want you thinking you can charm your way out of everything."

"I'm not trying to, trust me. I can't help it." Jack smirked as he shrugged. "And for the record, I did miss it. I don't remember the last time I've seen your genuine smile."

Your smile faltered as your stomach squeezed in anxiety. The last couple of months of your relationship was spent only arguing, and the smiles had become a rarity, buried beneath layers of resentment and hurt. You swallowed hard, the memories of those final days weighing heavy on your heart like a rock.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to push aside the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "A lot has changed since then."

"I can tell," his eyes scanned your body and you felt your heart jump. He wet his lips as his blue eyes met yours again, a grin playing on his lips. "I remember this dress. You wore it at my draft party, I remember."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, memories of that night flooding back with a rush of emotions. You remembered the excitement in the air, the pride shining in his family's eyes as he celebrated the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

"Yeah, I remember," you said softly, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It feels like so long ago."

Jack nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reached across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I never forgot that night," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Or how beautiful you looked in this dress."

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt like the air was knocked out of you at his words. Goddamn him, his smooth-talk, and that damned cologne that made you feel high off of him. "Shut up," was all you could muster as Jack chuckled.

"Let's go take a walk."

And like always, Jack didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed your hand and began walking toward the exit. Your mind raced as Jack's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. And despite your inner turmoil and the warning bells ringing in your head, there was a part of you that couldn't resist the pull of his charm, the familiarity of his touch.

You hated how he still had this effect on you and how confident he was, he always made decisions for you. You're not sure if it's really a bad thing, because how can something so bad feel so insanely good?

"Okay," you said softly more to yourself than him, your voice barely above a whisper. You allowed him to lead you away from the dimly lit bar and out into the cool night air.

As you walked side by side, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over you. It was like stepping back in time, back to a simpler era when the world was young and full of promise.

Jack pulled you into his chest as you walked, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders as you leaned into him, seeking solace in his familiar warmth.

Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still longed for the comfort of his embrace, for the reassurance of his presence by your side.

"The dress still fits you so well," Jack finally spoke up. You could feel practically hear the grin on his face as you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging on your lips.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I haven't outgrown it," you replied, your voice light and teasing as you leaned into his embrace subconsciously.

Jack chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "You'd look in a garbage bag, princess. You can never outgrow anything."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." You quipped.

"It's gotten me this fair, huh?" Jack's tone was amused as you felt yourself roll your eyes at his cockiness. He let out a laugh as he squeezed your arms, the way he knew you liked.

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face but instead, you just shook your head at his teasing. He still knew you so well, even after so long. As much as you wanted to resist his charm, there was a small part of you that couldn't help but be swept away by it. Jack had always had a way of getting under your skin, of finding the cracks in your armor and worming his way into your heart.

"You're insufferable," you said, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the fondness you couldn't quite suppress.

Jack chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious as he leaned in closer to press a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"But you love me anyway," he said, his voice soft as he met your gaze with a knowing smile.

You couldn't deny the truth of his words, no matter how much you wanted to. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still loved him ─ had always loved him. Would you always love him?

You gazed back at him, his grin even bigger as his hand squeezed your arms again. The more you stared, the more you slipped back right where he wanted. Fuck, you were back.

Your hands came up to touch his soft stubble, one of the many new things about him. Something you never thought you'd like, you swore his clean-face was your favorite but he proved you wrong.

"You like it?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky as he watched you trace your fingers along his stubbled jawline. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power he still held over you.

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, your fingers lingering against his stubble. "It suits you. You look... different, but in a good way."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, his eyes sparkling with gratitude as he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm glad you think so."

You smiled genuinely, the anger slowly dissipating as you looked into the eyes of the man you'd once loved, wholeheartedly. His face may have changed but his gaze was still the same, the same blue eyes you'd been drawn to from the beginning.

"Let's head back to the car, yeah?" His voice came out hoarse and low, you could hear practically hear the need in his voice. And again, you let him lead you back to his car and eventually, to his home.

Your lips curved into a smirk, you'd had gotten exactly what you'd sought out to do. You'd gotten him back, but who ever doubted you?

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[helen-with-an-a]

Out of Position

Hi. So, I'm not really sure I like this but hey-ho. I'm trying to write my masters dissertation so fics may be few and far between loll but I wanted to write something. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Lucy Bronze x reader

Description: R has to play out of position for Barça

Word Count: 1.5k

The season had been … tough, to say the least.

The start of the season was great, you were playing your favourite 6 or 8 positions. You were happy there – you were racking up assists, you had your name on score sheets more regularly. Things were really looking good for you. You were in the Starting XI regularly, slowly increasing the minutes to full matches every week. Your national team coaches had noticed your efforts to, soon earning that number 8 shirt at international level. Things were looking really, really good.

And then Mapi got injured. That was a blow to the team, no doubt. Her infectious energy was sorely missed during trainings, her technical prowess and defensive knowhow that were so integral to the team was difficult to replicate. But everyone was managing incredibly well. Slowly but surely, you were being played further away from where you were comfortable. And then Alexia was out again too. Another massive knock. Not just for the team, seeing the Captain out of commission was hard on everyone, but for you in particular. You were slowly being played further back on the pitch than you were entirely comfortable with. You weren’t a defender. You did your part, when necessary, but you weren’t a defender. You were never fully happy making those harsh tackles and committing essential fouls. Your main form of defence came from interceptions – your speed was something to be noted by all commentators. You were always the first onto a wayward ball. It was something you prided yourself on. It was something the whole team prided themselves on, none-so more than Lucy.

You didn’t know how it happened really, but by the away El Clásico, your picture was being displayed on screen in the no. 5 position. Who would have thought you would end up playing against Real Madrid as a centre-back? Especially when considering you started the season as an attacking midfield and borderline striker?

“I can’t do this.” You were full on panicking in the changing rooms. Your hands were gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles were turning white; your wide frantic eyes flittered nervously around the room; your skin was cold and clammy, your breathing erratic. You were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Sí, puedes, chica.” Patri soothed, running her hand in wide comforting circles along the length of your back. You had been fine during training, and most of the warmup but you had seen Moller Hansen give you, what you interpreted to be, a menacing glare, and something had snapped in you. “Amiga, you need to breathe” Patri reminded you, exaggerating her own breathing to try and prompt yours. It wasn’t working. Marta and Irene were with you, both looking on with some concern. “Ves a buscar la Lucy.” Patri ordered one of them, not taking her eyes off you. You had moved one hand from the bench to your thigh, your nails pressing harshly into the muscles, dragging unforgiving lines up and down.

Not 30 seconds after the door swung shut behind Marta, a very concerned Lucy appeared by your side, worry etched on her face.

“Can’t … do it,” you struggled to get the words out. Lucy’s heart shattered at your words. She had seen the hours you had put in, the number of dates you had rain checked to stay late with the defensive coaches, the frequent mornings when she had woken up, alone with your side of the bed cold with a note on your pillow telling her that coffee was in the machine, she just needed to press start and that you’d see her at training. If she didn’t know where you were, she would be concerned you were cheating on her. But no, you were in the gym at the crack of dawn, strengthening your muscles and pushing yourself to go beyond your previous limits. She was exhausted just looking at the work you were doing. But it wasn’t in vain. You looked so natural in the back line; anyone that didn’t know you would think you were comfortable. But no one saw these moments and sheer and raw terror that coursed through your veins moments before you stepped out of the changing rooms.

“You can, pretty girl. I promise you; you can do it.” Lucy said, gently crushing you to her chest. She was sad to admit that this was a common occurrence.

“Scared,” you croaked out. “let the team down.”

“No, my love, you will never let us down. I promise. You can never, ever let anyone down.” She cooed, her fingers dipping under your shirt to run her nails over your bare back. She pulled back after a few moments, waiting until your breathing evened out a little bit – her comforting smell washing over you and soothing your body more than any words could do. She cupped your face, gently running her thumb across your cheek. “I love you, so, so much. There are 10 other girls on that pitch, all of them believe in you. You wouldn’t be out there if the club didn’t think you could do this.” She said her words with such conviction. You took a deep breath and nodded – not believing her words, but the noise outside the changing room was growing louder, signalling that both teams were ready to go. You were still incredibly nervous, but you did have a job to do after all. You both left the changing room hand-in-hand, taking your customary places at the back of the line.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” She whispered in your ear as she caught you staring off into the distance. You turned to look at her, a slightly guilty look on your face as your bite your lip harshly. “I love you,” she said emphatically.

“I love you,” you said softly back, not as nervous as you were before, but definitely not good.

It was a tough match. Real Madrid had really stepped up their game since the last time you were out. It was a 1 – 1 all draw that was growing more precarious every minute. You had just 10 minutes left of the match and both sides were determined to break the stalemate.

 Madrid were on the attack, having been able to pick out weaknesses in Barça’s defence. Lucy had drifted too far from her position, letting Carmona utilise the space by making a speedy break for it. You were the furthest back in your team’s line up. Your muscles were aching, your face was red with effort, yet you had to win this ball back. You couldn’t let Cata take on Carmona and Caicedo all by herself. You ran. Hell, you practically flew down that flank, pushing yourself harder and faster than you ideally wanted to.

You knew exactly what Olga was going to do before she did it. Maybe it was your experience up front? Maybe it was all the hours you had spent reviewing footage of various players you would face in the league? But you abandoned your chase on Carmona, changing your momentum to catch up to Caicedo just at the right time. Cata had drifted to the right in anticipation of Olga’s strike, but you knew she wouldn’t attempt the shot – not when Caicedo was sitting wide open with a goalkeeper-less net in front of her. You threw your body into the header – it was easily the harshest one you had given all season – possibly your whole career. Your technique was perfect though as you caught only the ball, using your momentum to bounce the ball away from the goal before bouncing painfully on the ground. You quickly rushed to your feet, watching Cata take advantage of a very confused Caicedo and a disappointed Carmona to chase the ball and boot it out into the stands.

There was a moment of quiet – at least it was quiet for you – before the world came back into focus. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you sucked in precious oxygen. Cata was the first to get her hands to you. She shook your shoulders almost violently, your head wobbled comically at the action.

“Tu nena preciosa,” she shouted, kisses raining down on your forehead. You felt head pats and light taps on your back as you made your way back into your position.

Finally, the full whistle went. Barça had won El Clásico yet again (although it was tougher than anyone cared to admit)

“You …” Lucy said as her warm arms wrapped you in a hug. “That was the best defending I have ever seen.” She smiled, clearly wanted to say and do more.

“I learned it from you,” you whispered as you squeezed back. “The flying header. A Lucy Bronze special,” you teased.

“And you said you couldn’t defend.” She scoffed. “I’m so proud of you.” She said, pressing kisses into your sweaty hairline. You blushed profusely but smiled, nonetheless. That was all you really wanted, to make Lucy proud. “I think this calls for a treat, don’t you?” She whispered seductively into your ear as she dragged you into the changing rooms, a sly smirk dancing on her lips.

Hope you enjoyed reading <3<3<3<3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a good weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.  

“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt. 

“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine. 

“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.  

He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway. 

“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...” 

You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him. 

You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs. 

You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.  

You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game? 

You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you. 

You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude. 

You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands. 

You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges. 

Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle. 

“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray. 

You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame. 

“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.” 

“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.” 

“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?” 

“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.” 

“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--” 

“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.” 

Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? 

“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--” 

“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.” 

The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are. 

You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on. 

“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?” 

“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...” 

“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again. 

You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--” 

“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.” 

“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.” 

You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor. 

As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down. 

“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.” 

“Thank you, sir, I am fine.” 

“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.” 

You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?” 

“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.” 

Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something? 

“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--” 

“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.” 

“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--” 

“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.” 

Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master. 

“I would not,” you repeat. 

He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.” 

“Sir Bryce--” 

“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.” 

You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.” 

He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it! 

And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid. 

⚔️

You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure. 

“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.” 

You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north. 

“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.” 

You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly. 

“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?” 

She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.” 

You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest. 

“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.” 

She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.” 

You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant. 

“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.” 

You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls. 

“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.” 

You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away. 

“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.” 

She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid. 

“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.” 

You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands. 

“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.” 

[sepublic]

Alright, let's talk about some details from the TOH pitch bible;

A lot of the stuff is what we've already seen and/or in line with the show. What's interesting is that King WAS a former King of Demons at one point, and we would've had an episode where he runs into his old gang and chooses Luz and Eda over them. It makes me wonder if he even had a connection to the Titan in earlier drafts, if he wasn't recognized as one back in the day because he just wasn't big enough, etc. Eda makes a deal to help remove the collar, which IS the source of King's woes, placed by a 'mysterious wizard', I wouldn't be surprised if it was Obron AKA Proto-Belos.

What gets me is that Tibbles originally started off as a friend to the protagonists, while Bump was an antagonist! Coupled with Tibbles being re-elected as mayor after Bump is deposed for corruption. I like the detail of Bump being a parasite controlling a body from the head, because it carried over into his final design with Frewin, and before we got confirmation Frewin was a separate entity, I loved the joke theory that the imp on Bump's head was the REAL Bump!!! Seems that was always the implied story of the design, I love it. Tibbles being the demon fan of human stuff would eventually become Gus instead, so this is technically Proto-Gus too…?

Interesting how Bump and Tibbles' alignments switch completely with one another, and it makes sense that with Lilith no longer the principal in the final draft, it goes to Bump, who ends up being really chill and a subversion in his own right! Interesting, but I do prefer the final Bump we got, and that's fine by me, because when the concepts aren't as interesting as the final product, it means we got the best possible version.

I've already discussed Obron and William in a separate post, and Pupa is someone we've been told about in a previous livestream. Lilith would've been both head of all covens (and not just the Emperor's Coven) AND principal at the same time, and she seems much more of a jerk to Eda in general; She has no qualms with cursing Eda because of a direct order from Obron.

Apparently the curse would've been an AGING spell, which settles my questions on how it would've been portrayed in earlier drafts! This goes along with Eda's older look. Likewise, there would've been a subplot of Eda considering Luz's sacrifice as a way to restore her youth, which likely goes hand in hand with Obron's orders to bring Luz to her, etc. The 'Bloom of Eternal Youth' quest, which Eda and Lilith go through together as their sisterly relationship is explored, feels like a carryover from this past idea.

I think I prefer the final draft; I like that the curse isn't just aging Eda, but also takes away her magic, makes her turn into a beast, etc. I like Lilith being a lot more complicated in her relationship with Eda, instead of just hating her and cursing her without hesitation. The redefining of the curse makes it less about age, and more a chronic illness metaphor, and I like how Eda in the final draft is upfront about having to learn to live with it, deal with it, on her own terms. She isn't trying to find a cure (although Lilith being promised one by Obron feels like a carryover of Eda's moral dilemma with Luz), and that adds another nice dimension to her conflict with Lilith, as well as Gwen. It's pretty frank in its own right about normalizing disability, and those who play an antagonistic role (however brief) are the real weirdoes for making such a fuss about it.

The Bat Queen would've had more of a recurring role based on the description, which saddens me; I always got the vibe she was planned for more, but between all of the other stuff the show had to juggle, plus the shortening, she ended up getting shafted despite being one of the earlier characters. Sashley, Pasha, and Bruno are also interesting, with Pasha in particular giving me freaking Philip Wittebane vibes with his grossness, beard, and anti-demon attitude; He even starts off as a potential friend to Luz because fellow human, only for his true bigotry to show. Makes me wonder if Philip ended up incorporating Pasha, we also have bodily transformation because of consuming magical stuff... P-names.

(Also, I like how in the drawing of typical Demon Realm denizens, I can see an eye demon who resembles a past drawing of Dana's!!!)

Eda was actually a late bloomer, which creates a parallel with Luz in one way, and their relationship is referred to as sisterly (in the final draft it’s explicitly maternal). So Eda wouldn't have been the talented youth, in fact things may have switched between her and Lilith; Lilith's disdain may have partially come from Eda not being as innately talented as her.

Luz and Amity's dynamic seems like it would've had Amity retain a lot of her more stand-offish, pragmatic personality even as a friend with Luz, and this would've come up more; So basically, she'd remain more like S1 Amity. That, or this part of their relationship would've lasted longer, and then we would've seen character development as Amity unlearns a lot of the issues her parents passed on. I also wonder if the Willow who cameos in the pilot was originally supposed to just be an extra separate from ‘Paulina’, but then they combined the two together.

The themes are exactly as I expected, glad to see they're still there, nothing changed! Luz becoming a witch and defying all odds to do so, putting in real work and passion. Celebrating individuality amidst conformity, plus Luz trying to impose her own fictional tropes onto the world, only to have to put that aside... Just like Wing it like Witches. It seems Amity would've had more involvement with Luz's journey to become a witch, though we still do have a carryover of that disconnect with her rant near the end of Covention.

I love the Demon Realm being situated BELOW the Human Realm, way to be subtle about being Hell you guys lol... Apparently portals to the human world are a lot rarer to find and use, which makes me wonder if the pilot's 'dimension port' doesn't have access to the human world; Meaning Amity is Luz's only way back, so her improved relationship with her is linked to getting back home. There's a gag about the Knee having service with the human world, but I can see how that didn't make the cut, for dramatic purposes; It seems like the premise for a S1 episode or at least a B-plot. Would Luz have struggled to communicate with Camila through this, or would her search for wi-fi be for mundane reasons?

Apparently Luz's magic would've required a lot more steps to complete, and I see why the show simplified things down to just glyphs. I wonder if there was always going to be the connection of glyphs as a gift from the Titan, or if the Titan and her story was going to be less intertwined in the overall narrative. There also don't seem to be nine main covens, just the many, many covens, some of which are pretty ridiculous, and Covention's sub-covens seem a callback to that.

Luz's first spell would've been levitation, and THEN she would've infiltrated Hexside, with Amity being a lot subtler about exposing Luz, though in the final draft she does figure that out as the way to go in I was a Teenage Abomination. Yeah, I prefer Light being her original spell, feels so much more symbolic and personal, etc. I wonder if the Titan is even as much of a character in early drafts, and if there's still the whole connection/relationship with the land and learning to respect it aspect. Some of these hypothetical episodes push the idea of Amity as a more episodic, typical popular kid antagonist, though in the final draft, the show goes through her character development and explores Amity's romantic relationship with Luz and its complications.

It seems the idea of the Mirror Ghost was split into Adegast and Vee, with Adegast being the one who offers the easier narrative for Luz to believe in about becoming a witch (only to be a fraud who uses uncanny puppets), and Vee being a doppelganger whom Luz communicates through with mirrors. Interesting how Yesterday's Lie was born from this. We saw the test animation from Spencer Wan for TOH, so I guess we know what Luz's puppet-doppelganger is called! And we can safely call her Proto-Vee. I wonder if she also would've been a sympathetic character, I always thought she reminded me of Lake from Infinity Train (and speculated her to be as such since Enchanting Grom Fright), and now the similarities are even MORE apparent!

Alas, The Good Witch Azura, or 'The Unassuming Princess' seems like it'd have been a lot less dear to Luz's heart, as the pilot also reflects; In the end, it turns out the author is just Eda's ex using her adventures as basis, and including private information. I remember when I once speculated that Raine, before we saw their face, would've been just like this as the author of Azura... Again, I think I prefer Azura as being a lot less mean-spirited in the final draft, and instead a celebration of who Luz is as a person, her relationship with fantasy and fiction, etc. We also would've had a Luz birthday party, the Quincenera we've been hoping for since S1...! In the final draft (and episode) we still get that Human-Demon Realm disconnect, though by that point, Luz is much more attuned and chill with the isles.

There’s definitely more of an episodic, sitcom feel to this pitch bible, especially when you compare Proto-Yesterday’s Lie to its final version. Makes sense, Dana is pitching this to Disney executives, though her statement on Understanding Willow feeling truly like her show makes me wonder if she always intended to push TOH in that more serious, emotional route we got.

[aesethewitch]

Ambient Spells

The idea of the ambient spell isn’t so uncommon. My use of the word “ambient” may throw you for a bit of a loop. An ambient spell is any spell that permeates a space in an unobtrusive way. They affect the area surrounding their vessel and require little to no maintenance or upkeep. They’re long-term workings that require varying levels of effort to put together and cast. Depending on what exactly you need, they can be as simple as setting out a bowl of salt or as complex as crafting a home decor piece from scratch.

I always recommend making ambient spells that are self-fueling. I often refer to them also as “set it and forget it” spells. They’re the crockpot of spellwork — work up front for a slow burn output.

Chances are that you’re already aware of or even know how to create ambient spells. Any spell that affects the vibe of a room, for example, would count as an ambient spell. Lighting incense specifically to invite in positive energy counts. A ward that sucks up baneful magic and transforms it into blessings also counts. The primary idea of an ambient spell is that it’s making a change to your environment in the background. It’s the cool breeze in summertime, the subtle piano at a fancy restaurant, the scent of fresh-baked cookies fading as the day goes by. Positive, but not overt.

When to Use (or Not Use) an Ambient Spell

By their nature, ambient spells are fairly general workings. They can be quite powerful, of course, just like any other spell. The thing to keep in mind is that they’re not ideal for targeted magic.

For example, I wouldn’t create an ambient spell to banish someone from my life. I might make an ambient spell to make an area unwelcoming to them, or to anyone who would do me harm. The unwelcoming vibe might discourage them from coming around, sure. But it may not work outside of the area the spell lives in; and it may not get rid of them for good.

Similarly, an ambient spell might make a good general ward for keeping out loud, unwelcome spirits, but it wouldn’t specifically cast out the one particular spirit who’s been causing problems. It might discourage their behavior, but it wouldn’t necessarily get rid of them. A concentrated, single-use banishing spell would work significantly better for that purpose. Afterwards, an ambient spell can keep the area clear of that spirit’s influence.

I also wouldn’t use an ambient spell to draw in specific success. General success or money, absolutely — whatever wants to come my way is welcome, via a basic money bowl set up next to my wallet. But if I specifically want a promotion or a particular amount of money, I’m not going to leave that to the ambient money spell. I would craft a spell specifically for what I’m looking for.

When deciding what kind of spell to cast, keep this idea in mind. An ambient spell is best for behind-the-scenes results that happen without your concentrated effort. When you want something specific, a more targeted spell will work better nine times out of ten.

Creating an Ambient Spell

It’s possible to create an ambient spell with nothing but energy work. However, I often find that these fade quickly and don’t lend themselves well to self-fueling. They tend to need more active upkeep than I prefer for a spell that’s meant to be set and let go. I recommend choosing an appropriate vessel of some kind to contain the spell to help it last longer.

How do you decide what’s an appropriate vessel, though? And how do you set one up? How do you make a spell self-fueling? Let’s start from the top and go in order.

Identify the Purpose

Decide what the spell will do. This is going to define the components and the way you’re going to cast the spell. In my experience, ambient spells work best when they’re given a single purpose. For example, I wouldn’t make a spell that’s a ward and a cleanser and a spirit welcome mat. It dilutes the purpose. Choose a single, clear motive for the spell.

Choose a Vessel

Now that you know what your spell will do, it’s time to decide what it’s going to look like. The vessel you choose should reflect the spell’s purpose in some way.

An open bowl works well for absorbing energy. Why? It’s open. The face of it is open to the room, ready to take in whatever kind of energy you assign to its contents.

A closed jar, on the other hand, would be good for repelling. It’s closed off and sealed — a one-way road going out of the jar and into the room to clear it.

A wreath hung at the door could serve a lot of purposes, depending on what it’s made with. I would use a wreath as an agent of transformation or as an energy emitter to release a certain energy into the space.

A stone makes a solid vessel for protection or grounding. I have one on my working altar to help keep me in the moment and create a good environment for working magic.

When you’re choosing your spell vessel, keep in mind how visible you want it to be. Certain vessels are going to naturally be more obvious than others. A wreath, for example, is hard to miss — but it also just looks like nice home decor. A jar full of herbs and things would be more obviously a spell, but they can be small and easily hidden.

I have both obvious and hidden ambient spells peppered around my home for varying purposes. If you’re keeping your practice a secret, you’ll likely want to keep your spells more obscure or hidden. But if you aren’t, and you can make the choice of whether you want the spell to be in plain sight or not, consider the effect you want the spell to have.

If you want the spell to absorb bad vibes, baneful magics, the evil eye, or other negativity, a hidden spell might serve you well. Hiding the vessel somewhere means that whoever’s casting against you may not expect the resistance. On the other hand, if you want a vessel that allows friendly spirits to visit you during the holidays, a beautiful centerpiece on your dining table that’s charmed with spirit-friendly magic might serve the purpose.

Choose an Energy Source

Ambient spells need to draw energy from somewhere. Think of it like a battery. The ingredients you put into the spell may provide a temporary charge, but if you want the spell to be long-term, it needs an input. How will your spell recharge itself?

If you want the spell to be shorter-term, only a few days or so, then you can skip this step. But if you want an ambient spell to last a while, like a ward or vibe-adjuster, you’ll need to think about this carefully.

Like when choosing the vessel, the energy source should match the purpose of the spell. For example, I have a simple room refresher spell set on a table that’s central to my home. The purpose of it is to take anxiety and negative thoughts to turn them into positivity. I set it up so that the act of walking past the bowl swirls the air around it, and therefore also the energy around it. That kinetic energy fuels the bowl’s magic and keeps it going. I don’t have to actively recharge the bowl or its contents, because we walk past it constantly.

Another example would be an ambient spell to help you do the dishes. (Whether that’s remembering to do them or finding the motivation for it is up to you.) The fuel for the spell could be the act of walking into or past the kitchen, running water elsewhere in the home, or even cooking or eating.

The energy source could also be something like lighting a candle next to or over the vessel on a schedule, if you prefer. This would add an upkeep step, of course, and wouldn’t be my first choice. The only ambient spell I do this with is my money bowl, and that’s because it’s tuned to be able to shift focus from day to day depending on what exactly I need (commissions versus tips versus discounts, etc.).

Setting Up an Ambient Spell

Decide where you want to place your spell’s vessel ahead of time. If you have pets or kids, make sure you put whatever it is out of their reach. If the vessel is something like an uncovered bowl, you’ll want to be sure that it isn’t going to get knocked over. Similarly, if it’s made of glass, you don’t want it to fall and shatter. If your vessel needs to be hidden somehow, determine where you’ll keep it. It would be smart to make note of where the spell is and what it looks like in your grimoire or spell notebook just so that if you forget about it, you can identify it later on down the road.

After you know where you want to put it, it’s time to choose ingredients and fill your vessel. The components you decide on should, obviously, match your goals.

Casting an ambient spell is much the same as casting a regular spell. The only thing to keep in mind is that an ambient spell has a sort of prolonged release.

Upkeep and Care of an Ambient Spell

For the most part, ambient spells should require little to no upkeep. With that said, you should still do routine check-ups on them. I include them in my regular rounds when I check on my wards and various protections, but you could do yours whenever it makes the most sense to you.

Depending on how you decided to fuel your spell, you may need to do a bit of feeding. Whether that’s lighting a new candle, refilling a cup of water, mixing around a pile of herbs, or giving the vessel a little shake, do so anytime it feels like the spell’s energy is flagging. It may take some practice in sensing energy to know exactly when a spell needs refueling. This is partly why I suggest creating a schedule to check in on the spell; ambient spells are a great type to practice sensing spell energy, since they’re typically long-lasting and may wax or wane depending on the day.

If your spell is fully self-fueling and it doesn’t seem to be working anymore (or at all, even from the start), it’s time to take it apart. Discard disposable components according to your practice’s tenets. Cleanse the rest for future use. I would suggest washing your spell vessel alongside magical cleansing.

A Ready-to-Use Example

Here’s an extremely simple example of an ambient spell I use in my home to keep the main living area light, fresh, and conducive to getting work done. Since both my partner and I work from home, it’s important that our areas have an aura of focus.

Materials:

- A small bowl, preferably green or brown - Enough salt to fill the bowl halfway - A few pinches of dried rosemary

Instructions:

1. Ensure the bowl is clean and dry. Pour salt into the bowl until it’s halfway full. 2. Sprinkle dried rosemary into the salt and stir. 3. Instruct the spell, in whatever way makes sense to you, to exude focused but calm energy into the space. 4. Place the bowl in an area that is frequently trafficked. 5. Leave the bowl in place until it no longer provides a fresh, focused energy to the space. Dispose of the contents, clean the bowl, and reset the spell.

Notes: - This spell is powered by movement specifically, because both my partner and I work from home, and we pace when we’re having a hard time focusing. The spell draws in the energy from our pacing and the frustration we’re putting out to fuel itself. It then transforms and releases the energy as calm, focus, and productivity. - I suggest a green or brown bowl because this spell is meant to work for our jobs. Green for success, brown for grounding. Personally, my bowl has both colors. - When instructing the spell, you can speak to the bowl, write a petition, do an incantation, or whatever else you like. This is the most personal part of the spell, and it’s what makes the thing Go. It’s up to you to decide how it’s going to work.

Final Thoughts

I would hesitate to call ambient spells “low energy” spellwork. While they can be low-energy-friendly in the long run, and they can be extremely simple to set up (such as the one I described above), they aren’t always. Ambient spells do require an up-front energy cost. Even so, I find them very rewarding and useful.

Folks who visit my home often comment that it’s an inviting, friendly, good-natured space where they can leave their worries and anxieties behind. That’s on purpose. I’ve got ambient spells in place that eat up anxiety and spit out positivity. I’ve got ones that repel hexes and are charged by sunlight. All of these spells are long-lasting and well worth the effort it took to create them.

I hope this little guide is useful to you! If you’ve got questions, feel free to send me an ask. I’m happy to ramble about ambient spells or other types of magic as much as you’d like.

And if you did enjoy this post, consider dropping a couple dollars in my tip jar! Supporters of all types (tips, commissions, shop purchases, and memberships) get early access to posts like this, sometimes up to two weeks early, and every bit helps me keep the lights on.

[sibylsleaves]

some things fall when they're meant to fall

11k (so far) | rated T | read on ao3 Eddie’s gaze drop to Buck’s lips—pink, like his birthmark. Eddie wants to taste those lips, and he wants it with a fierceness so sudden it shocks him. “I’m, uh,” Buck stammers. “Last night. When you saw me and Tommy…we—we were on a date.” Everything inside Eddie goes still. If his heart is a kite, then this is the moment it plummets back to earth.

or, Buck tells Eddie some news. Eddie has a realization and breaks up with his girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order.

written for @burnthatbridge

Chapter 2/4 now up on ao3

Eddie is happy for Buck. Obviously. It goes without saying that he’s happy for him.

And look, it’s not like it’s hard. Not when Buck’s been walking around like the LA sun shines specifically for him. He’s got this shimmering halo of excitement around him these days, and beneath that, a kind of deep relief. Like some of the heavy weight he’s dragged around with him his entire life has been lifted.

More than anyone Eddie’s ever known, Buck has spent his life searching for something. And finally, he’s found it.

Not Tommy—although Buck does get a particular blushing grin on his face whenever he talks about him. What Buck has found is something bigger than that. A truth about himself. An answer to a question he never knew to ask.

So yeah, Eddie’s happy for him. How could he not be? This whole year, when he hasn’t been worrying about Chris, he’s been worried about Buck and how he’s been dealing with the aftermath of the lightning strike.

He’s not worried anymore.

And as for Eddie’s own revelation…the realization that for him, all roads lead to Buck, well…

He’s not thinking about it. He’s doing everything in his power to act like nothing’s changed, to act the way the Eddie Diaz of two weeks ago would act. The Eddie Diaz whose brain hadn’t yet caught up to his heart on the matter of Evan Buckley.

“So, there’s a Dodgers game this evening,” Eddie says, jiggling his car keys nervously while he waits for Buck to finish changing after their shift. He rests his gaze somewhere to the left of Buck's bare chest. “I was thinking about inviting Tommy over to watch. And I know you’re watching Jee so Chim and Maddie can work on wedding stuff—”

“Eddie,” Buck tugs his shirt over his head and looks at Eddie quizzically. “We’ve already been over this. I was never actually mad that you were hanging out with Tommy without me. I mean yeah, I guess I felt slightly excluded, but it was more about—”

“Yeah, yeah I know, the giant crush you had on the guy,” Eddie says with a fond eye-roll. There. That’s something two-weeks-ago Eddie would’ve said, right?

(read chapter 2 on ao3)

taglist:

@remembertheskittles @myao3library-blog @sorryimlatecapt @swiftiesisters14 @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual

@myphilomena @neuromagpie @fleurdebeton @daffi-990 @crysty-rp-2023

@confetti-cupcake @pixelmator5 @fabgirlll @evansbuckkley @lyricfulloflight

@daisievalentine @crazyfangirlallert @bucklavaa @torturedpoetdean @smallandalmosthonest

@notalwaysdead @anatargmova @marmottion @flavored-soda @thebirdling

@tulipfromtheinternet @takemebythehand-andsetmefree @sunshinediaz @thatsveryood @devirnis

@messyhairdiaz @skies-below @actingcamplibrarian @dirundmir @stagefoureddiediaz

@wh0rebehavi0rmain @dancy-nrew @eddiebabygirldiaz @screamatthescreen @organizedstardust

@leothil

[herdarkestnightelegance]

Nocturnal eyes

Pairing: Astarion/ g/n Tav

Tags: vulnerable Astarion, angst, friendship, a bit of fluff

Length: 2.4k words

Summary: Astarion notices something is off with his eyes …

A/N: @nyx-knox out here once again, being the ✨best✨ beta-reader I could hope for!

Also: ARE Y'ALL FOR REAL?! Over 750 reactions on my Bedhead fic?? Thank you so much 🥹!!!

Taglist: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate , @littlelovelore, @onlyancunin @chaoticbardlady99

::::::::::::::::::

Astarion sits in the soft green grass, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun.

Today had been exhausting. The party had finally left the wilderness behind and set up camp on the Mountain Pass. Tomorrow they will head to the Githyanki Crèche, but for now … he’s just relaxing, listening to the soft rustle of the trees above him with his eyes closed.

Because they are hurting again - his damned eyes - causing his head to ache in that awful stinging way. This has been happening semi-regularly since they crashed on that beach. By the end of every day, his eyes feel exhausted. Sometimes he even welcomed the night, the dark bringing relief to his vision, much as he hated to admit that he found any solace in the darkness after having been trapped in it for so long.

It’s not that he wants to be in the dark again - on the contrary! Oh, words could never express how much he enjoys the feeling of the warmth on his skin, the smell of sun-baked earth beneath him, filling him with life, making his undead heart swell with secret joy. It’s just …

“Truly, a sight to behold,” Gale had said, when they first stepped through the gate onto the Pass and were greeted by a magnificent view of the surrounding valley … Or at least Astarion assumed that’s what it was.

Because he can’t tell. Not really. In fact, all he sees are blurry, rugged shapes and a haze of earthy colors far off in the distance.

When Astarion had first opened his eyes after the crash, all he could do was gasp audibly. The sun seared his eyes, the light brighter than anything he had seen in centuries. Immediately, he had shielded his face from the merciless rays, curled into a ball, panic taking over. “No!” he yelped. It’s daytime! I can’t be out! Oh Gods, do I smell smoke? Am I burning up?? Am I disintegrating???

But a few heartbeats passed and to his surprise - and great relief - it was not a burning pain he started to feel. Rather, it was a sensation he thought he had forgotten but that he immediately recalled, having felt it lifetimes ago: The warmth of the midday sun.

Cautiously, he had uncoiled himself and tried opening his eyes again. Gods! It hurts. Of course, Vampire eyes are sensitive to the light, in order to see better at night. An essential trait for nocturnal creatures, predators, such as himself. His eyes hadn’t had to process so much brightness in … forever. So, being blasted with daylight for the first time in roughly 200 years - it hurt like all Hells! 

It took a few moments, but eventually Astarion managed to pry open his crimson eyes. And he began to see. To look. And he saw colors he hadn’t seen in too long. He saw the bright blue sky, the deep purples of the Nautiloid shipwreck, the turquoise water covered with the most beautiful shimmering reflections. Everything was bright. Everything was so vibrant! Everything was so … full of life. He looked up, squinting at the trees and their slightly blurred leaves. Those luscious, green leaves. Gods … I had forgotten how beautiful that particular color is … 

But there had been no time for him to enjoy all those new sights for long. He heard them before he saw them. The others. Friends? Enemies? He couldn’t tell. They were just indiscernible shapes in the distance - but as soon as he had lured one of them close enough to put a knife to their throat, he was back in survival mode, forgetting about the colors he had just reveled in.

That’s what he knew how to do, after all. Hitting his close target. And really, that’s all he should care about, that’s really all he actually needs to see. He’s a master at close-up melee combat, a rogue who sneaks up to his victims, dangerous with his blade. He’s skilled at picking locks and picking pockets. And he’s an amazing lover, always able to read every detail of his victims' expressions to make sure he hits that target just as well. All he needs to see clearly is what’s right in front of him, isn’t it?

But if he was being really honest … it’s not like his usual tricks have actually worked out for him so far, now have they? His first melee attack had earned him a headbutt to the face. He had woken his first victim while sneaking up on them. And he felt his nice little seduction plan for Tav slowly and steadily backfiring on him - but that was a problem for another time. So why not top it all off with embarrassingly inadequate vampiric eyesight to really emphasize it all, he figured?

Astarion opens his eyes again and looks at the hazy, blurred valley below, the wind tousling his white locks, and he scoffs. Ironic, isn’t it? Here he is, finally free from his captor. But of course, even out in the open, he’s not able to look beyond the confines of his own metaphorical cell. As if his eyes are still keeping him prisoner.

A sound behind him snaps him out of his thoughts. Again, he hears them before he sees them coming. Only this time he knows it is a friend. “Astarion?” Tav, he thinks with a knowing smile. He knows their voice anywhere.

“Yes, Darling?” he asks as their leader emerges from the shade of the trees.

Astarion grew to enjoy Tav‘s company quite a bit, if he was being honest. Not only during their passionate encounters, but also just sitting with them, talking about their journey, about the others in their party, sometimes even about his past, which he never thought possible when he had been pressing his knife to their throat just a short time ago.

“Enjoying the view?” they ask as they sit down next to him in the soft grass.

“Oh of course,” Astarion answers as he leans back onto his elbows.

“Especially the Crèche,” Tav continues, pointing into the valley, making casual conversation.

“Why, I agree. Who would have thought the Gith were such marvelous architects,” the pale Elf replies without missing a beat. 

It’s now that Tav turns to look at him. “... Except the Crèche is in the opposite direction?” they say cautiously. 

Shit. Astarion tenses.

He hates this. They know. Immediately he is prepared to snap, to throw a sarcastic comment back at them, telling them to mind their own damn business. Feeling exposed, he keeps his gaze fixed forward, part of him expecting to see mockery, or malice even, should he meet Tav’s eyes. But when he eventually looks up … all he sees is a knowing smile. Their face is so very clear next to him, and so is the genuine fondness that greets him in their expression. The same fondness he is secretly happy to see on Tav’s face every time they look at him.

Astarion takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want his walls to go up. Not for Tav. He resists it, that stupid defensive mechanism and to his surprise, he actually relaxes a bit. “You noticed,” he says quietly.

Tav nods. “On our first day, actually.” His eyebrows go up in surprise. 

“Did you now?” the vampire asks.

“We climbed that platform next to the crash site, remember? You were first up. And you said there’s nothing to see.” Their tone is neither condescending nor reproachful. “But there was... A lot, actually. You know, like, the village? Or the goblin camp. Or, well, this mountain pass. So yeah, I noticed.”

Astarion scoffs. They were right, of course. And back then, he didn’t even realize there was something wrong with his vision. He had still been so overwhelmed with all the light and color, all this blue and green…

For a moment, both sit in silence before Astarion speaks up. “It’s all rather blurry, you know?” he finally admits aloud. “I never noticed it back in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav listens and nods. “I thought vampirism cures all mortal ailments, even eye problems.”

“Well, maybe there are exceptions? Or maybe I’m just a sorry excuse for a vampire spawn. Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not like any vampire is able to look at vast illuminated landscapes during the day to notice if something is off.” he says in a slightly frustrated, even embarrassed tone, gesturing towards the sunset.

“Your eyes have been adjusted to the night for 200 years. So … maybe they just need a bit to adjust to the daylight now? Give it some time.” The optimism and sweetness in Tav’s voice makes the corner of Astarion’s mouth twitch up into a half-smile.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” he says. Maybe they are right. Maybe. 

This is when Tav clears their throat. “But uhm, until then …” Astarion’s pointy ears twitch slightly as he hears Tav rummaging in their pocket. When they procure something wrapped in a folded leather cloth, he sits up.

“What’s this?” he asked, and they hand him the flat parcel. Curiously, Astarion opens the wrapping. 

In his hand lies the most hideous pair of mismatched spectacles he has ever seen. 

Before he can say anything, Tav begins to talk. “I came across this half broken pair of looking glasses while looting some time ago, and I thought, well, while there is no way we would ever find the perfect pair, we might just try making a custom one, right? I mean, it’s obvious you’re straining your eyes. You might not say anything to us about it, and you don’t have to, but I can tell that you often have a headache by the end of the day, and I, well, wanted to help.” Astarion still says nothing, inspecting the wonky looking thing in his hands.

Quickly, Tav continues, compelled to explain. “But you have no idea how hard it is to find undamaged spectacles! I mean, it makes sense, right? Who would leave their eyes behind? So anyway, I started collecting all the glasses I could find, hoping for an intact pair, but well … eventually I ended up with … this.”

The pair of spectacles in Astarion’s hand was clearly made of two halves from different glasses, held together in the middle by a thin leather cord, wrapped around it several times and in several other places. “Both glasses seemed to be made for looking at things further away. Of course, I can’t say for certain. They are not for me, I mean, if anything, I should be looking into finding a pair for me, so I can finally read that book Gale won’t shut up about. But … anyway, I thought maybe they might be of use to you.”

It’s not often that Astarion is stunned into silence. Tav did this? For him? It takes him a moment to process this … act of kindness. But when he does, he leans over to Tav, turning their face to him with a finger beneath their chin, and softly kisses them. “They … are hideous, my dear,” he says against their lips, with a chuckle and a genuine, soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, I know,” Tav agrees, kissing him back, mirroring his smile, before pulling away. “Well go on then, put them on.”

And he does. Astarion puts on the mismatched, wonky pair of improvised spectacles, the right temple barely fitting over his ear.

“Well?”, Tav asks hopefully.

With the awkward thing perched in his elegant face, the vampire looks down into the valley and takes in an almost inaudible breath. It’s … much better than he could have hoped for. Yes, it’s far from perfect. The glasses are sitting on his aquiline nose lopsided and the left glass is not even close to what he probably needs, yet he feels that nagging strain on his eyes eases immediately.

But that’s not what stuns the pale Elf.

Just as the sun begins to disappear behind the mountains, casting long shadows and a warm orange glow on everything around them, Astarion sees. And all of it this time! For the first time in 200 years, he sees the crisp outline of the setting sun. He sees the mountain tops and ridges. He sees the glowing clouds. By the Gods…

“Astarion?” Tav asks timidly, but he does not react. They sit with him in silence then, watching him watch the sunset in wonder, those red ruby eyes they love so much squinting intently, unmoving, until the glowing disk disappears behind the horizon and the sky slowly begins to turn a lovely shade of purple.

It takes a moment for Astarion to stir again. Carefully, he takes the spectacles off his face as if it’s the most precious thing he has ever owned, before looking at Tav. A lot of things are going through his head at that moment, and - much to his ever-growing confusion - through his undead heart as well. This is not a thing you just do for a travel-companion. Why are you so nice to me? I do not deserve your kindness. “Thank you.”, he eventually settles on, and he knows to Tav those simple words convey everything. 

Tav smiles. “Don’t mention it,” obviously delighted their little gift has been accepted. Why in the hells his favorite travel companion, no, his lover, went out of their way to help him like this, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Sure, they agreed to help him kill Cazador, but this is not the same! This is special. This is … caring. It is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him. And he is truly, deeply grateful.

This gift would do wonders for his vision, at least until his nocturnal eyes fully embrace looking into the far distance during the day. He knows he will look so foolish with this contraption on his nose and he would probably have to kill Gale should the wizard ever see him with them on, but somehow he didn’t mind wearing these, looking silly, unsightly even, in front of Tav. They wouldn’t judge him, they wouldn’t laugh at him. Because he feels that they care.

After a moment, Astarion puts the spectacles back on, turning his head up to the tree branches above them, that stunning green of the individual, defined leaves still visible in the dim dusk light.

“You know, Darling …”, he says, “I really do love that color.”

[scoops404]

I'm in a bad mood, so to make myself happy here are some fics I've been enjoying in the last few months, in no particular order. Some of these are incomplete. Please read tags on each individual story before reading <3

The Remedy to Everything - by @simply-smitten - this is such a good fic. When I was betaing months and months ago before this even came out, I told Smitten that this is going to be a new classic. She told me the ending last night and I am GATEKEEPING

Warm, Like Starlight - also by Smitten. She's like, talented or whatever. (this is a joke, I love Smitten)

Every Mountain Tells a Story by @czargasm - you know those AUs where you get sucked in and you know you're reading something by an expert? Yeah, that's this fic. And also it's just plain good. Still updating, but get in on this one early

Our Own Terrible Way by Chelsey Czargasm - this is epic. ANF to DNF pipeline is so believable and Chelsey really pulls it off. Good smut, good jealous, good banter. What more do you want?

what if we just by @alittledizzy - GUYS! When I read this it hit me so hard, like a truck, this fic was so necessary and so needed and it was like a balm to my soul (as many dizzy fics are and have been for many many years, yeah I have loved her a long time)

soft sunlight & soothed dogs by wooowriter - have I ever cared much for hybrid fics before? no, not really. Do I care now? Yeah, and it's this fic's fault. Realistic world building, realistic feelings. It's good shit.

fucked up and down bad by Dizzy and Alison, my home dogs. I got to beta read this one and I screamed the entire way through. It's so good. I really enjoyed it!

In Safety There is Bravery by @gottagetshiver - i just-- yeah. I liked this one, what can I say? Shiver is awesome and this fic is too.

going through the motions by @hardtofindneuro - neuro has to be next to Shiver, that's just the way the world works. This fic is good so good but extra warning to take the tags seriously. Neuro always hits that angst HARD, but it's definitely worth it <3

Okay I have to go back to work so I'll add more later :D

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter One: Filly

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: You, a seasoned bounty hunter, team up with a gruff ghoul to capture a high-value target. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.2k

Bounty hunting is no walk in the park, but the rewards make it worthwhile. Your body aches as you trudge through the settlement known as Filly. Pushy vendors eagerly try to sell you their wares, with one particularly persistent one urging you to spend your hard-earned caps on dog meat. Politely declining their offers, you navigate your way through the bustling street towards the more reputable shops and services.

Having visited Filly a few times before, you recognize familiar faces among the locals. You exchange a silent greeting with the local repair girl and spot Ma June preparing to open her shop for the day, making a mental note to stop by later. As you approach a semi-functional Nuka Cola machine, you catch sight of a man seated in a chair. He's dressed like an outlaw from the Wild West, giving off an air of danger. His gaze locks with yours as you pass by.

A ghoul.

You've had mostly positive experiences with ghouls in the wasteland, but this one seems different. There's something about him that sets off alarm bells in your head. Feeling bold, you approach him after grabbing an unbearably warm Nuka Cola.

"Hey," you stand in front of him and take a sip. "I don't personally have a problem with ghouls, but the folk around here aren't too fond of them."

Smirking, he looks up at you, his sunken eyes and lack of nose more pronounced in the sunlight. Most people find ghouls unsettling, but you've grown accustomed to their appearance after years of interacting with them.

"That may be true," he drawls. "but I ain't here to make friends."

You offer him a sip of your drink, he stares at you in confusion. Taking it as a rejection, you finish the rest and toss the bottle aside.

"You look like you're either playing cowboy or you're a bounty hunter," you remark.

"What's your guess?" he snarls.

Leaning towards him, you place your hands on the arms of his chair. "I'm guessing you're here looking for a specific doctor."

"You're pretty bold for getting so close to a ghoul, smoothskin."

"And you're pretty bold for assuming I've never been closer." A small smile creeps onto your face as he looks at you curiously.

"I'm sure our paths will cross again. Until then..." Stepping back, you give him a casual salute and walk away.

The presence of the ghoul gives you the feeling that shit is about to go down so you decide to hang around on the outskirts of Filly. Leaning against a tree just outside the bustling street of vendors, you can hear the sound of raised voices and the unmistakable echoes of gunfire coming from the center of town.

"Called it," you mutter under your breath. There's no need to dive headfirst into the chaos when you can simply wait it out and observe the aftermath. Given the hefty reward on the line for this particular doctor, it's unlikely that he'll be an easy target. If he's anything like the other high-value bounties you've pursued in the past, he'll find a way to slip away, and you'll have to track him down.

Inhaling deeply, you take a moment to assess your surroundings, ensuring that your rifle and pistol are in proper working order. As you inspect your weapons, the air is suddenly filled with distorted screams, "No, no, no!" Looking up, you witness a spectacle that catches you off guard. A suit of Power Armor is soaring uncontrollably through the sky above you. Could it be the Brotherhood of Steel? This bounty just keeps getting crazier.

The Power Armor veers off in the opposite direction, leaving you to wonder what in the wasteland is going on. With the chaotic gunfight seemingly subsiding, you make your way back towards the town center. It appears that the flying garbage can and ghoul have caused quite the commotion, scattering the combatants and bringing an end to the firefight.

As you draw closer to the scene, the absurdity of the situation becomes even more apparent. Bodies, torn apart and scattered haphazardly, litter the ground. The locals, seizing the opportunity, have already begun looting them. You catch sight of the ghoul making his way towards a path that leads out of town. Without a moment's hesitation, you decide to follow him.

Quickening your pace, you navigate through the debris and bodies, doing your best to avoid the looters who pay you no mind. The ghoul moves quickly with a dog by his side, his sunken eyes focused on his route to the wastes.

As you approach the outskirts of town, the ghoul glances back, acknowledging your pursuit. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he comes to a halt and turns to face you.

"I ain't accepting companions," he declares, a note of irritation in his voice.

"That's too bad," you reply with a smirk, coming to a stop in front of him. Your attention is drawn to the dog standing beside him, looking up at you with a wagging tail. A warm feeling washes over you - you've always had a soft spot for dogs.

Kneeling down, you scratch behind the dog's ears and ask, "What's her name?"

"I don't fuckin' know," the ghoul snaps back.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and confusion on your face. "Did you hit your head back there? How do you not know your dog's name?"

The ghoul rolls his eyes slightly, clearly exasperated. "She ain't my dog. She was with the doctor. Along with some vault dweller."

A surge of curiosity courses through you at the mention of the doctor and the vault dweller. This situation just keeps getting more intriguing. You stand up, still keeping an eye on the ghoul.

“A vault dweller?”

He begins to draw his gun and points it at you, “Give me a reason not to shoot your ass. You’re startin’ to annoy me.”

“Calm down, beef jerky.” Taking a step back, you maintain a calm demeanor. “I think we can help each other out.”

The ghoul's grip on his gun tightens, but he hesitates, seemingly intrigued by your proposition. "I don't need help.”

“Oh but yes, you do.” You pull out a small vial filled with amber liquid, capturing his attention. “This dog will do a great job tracking its owner but I’ll do an even better job of making sure you don’t go feral. No offense but you seem pretty old - even for a ghoul.”

The ghoul's grip on his gun loosens, and he seems to consider your words. After a moment, he reluctantly lowers his weapon. "Fine," he grumbles. "But don't think I owe you anything."

You nod with a small smile, "Fair enough."

[mortra]

ultra-analysing the elves in this cover page... because one of them might be related to thistle

in no particular order, here we go;

Senshi the elf

Flamela, the Canaries' Vice Captain

Pattadol, Canaries' Captain's Squad

Unnamed, Canaries Vice Captain's Squad

Lycion, Canaries' Captain's Squad

Otta, Canaries' Captain's Squad

Cithis, Canaries' Captain's Squad

Fleki, Canaries' Captain's Squad

Misyl, Canaries' Vice Captain's Squad

Milsiril, Former Canary Member

Unnamed, Canaries' Vice Captain's Squad

Marcille's Mother, Royal Court Mage

Marcille, Dark Sorceror

Mithrun, Canaries' Captain

Mithrun's brother

Mithrun's lover(?)

Thistle, Mad Sorceror

So now, who are they??

I could re-read the manga again specifically to look for them, but I'm not that insane. Also, they look a lot like thistle, so... maybe???

there's a resemblance!!

[zhaosbin]

what about fwb with gyuvin?? AND MAYBE HIGHSCHOOL AU!! like everybody thinks that you are just friends but in private it's something else..

ohhh i'm obsessed with this idea...THANK U ANON🫡

just friends — k. gyuvin

the dreaded day had finally come...monday. to make this particular monday more bearable, you and your friend hanbin had decided to meet up at a cafe before school started. you both order a small iced coffee and sit down at a booth nearby for a few minutes.

"did you study for mrs. choi's exam yet?" your friend asked you curiously. you quickly snap your head to look at him.

"we had an exam?" you say with an almost terrified look on your face. your friend, being used to ur laziness when it comes to school, simply laughed at you and offered to help you study as he always did.

"maybe if you weren't so busy with gyuvin, you would've known" hanbin says while giggling. you roll your eyes at your friend. everybody knew you and gyuvin were best friends, almost inseparable these days. it didn't stop them from teasing you both about it though.

"i already told you, there's nothing going on between us. we're just best friends"! you semi shout while hitting hanbin with you bag.

of course, you didn't like lying to your best friend. but you couldn't exactly tell him you were fucking one of his closest friends, could you?

—

you walk into your fourth period class exhausted. of course you got stuck with gym first period and had to go the rest of the day sweaty and tired. you take your seat next to your desk mate gunwook and you two casually talk about your days before the teacher comes in and begins the lesson.

unfortunately, the subject being taught right now was math. you couldn't care less about fractions and exponents right now. not when your phone was blowing up with text messages and calls. you knew right away who it was.

from: gyuvin 👹

y/n

y/nnnnn

can you come to the west wing?

please

it's important

answer me

from: y/n🫣

gyuvin i am literally in class

you were surprised when your needy "best friend" didn't immediately answer your message. putting your phone away, you went back to trying to figure out what ur teacher was even teaching.

a few moments later, a rather hard knock on the door snapped you out of your trance. the teacher looked annoyed until he opened the door to see his favorite student. kim gyuvin.

"im sorry sir, may i borrow y/n for a yearbook picture"? gyuvin says with a perfect smile on his perfect face.

you have to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. you cannot believe the nerve of this guy. the teacher, who absolutely ADORES gyuvin, immediately nods and motions at you to gather your stuff.

you both leave the classroom as gyuvin shoots the teacher a wave and another award winning smile. when the door finally shuts, you immediately slap his shoulder.

"are you crazy! what could possibly be this important?" you shout at him in the empty hallway.

gyuvin immediately pulls you to the closest janitors closet. he takes your hand and you look at him confused, until he places it on his very obvious boner.

"im sorry, i just couldn't stop thinking about being inside you again" gyuvin says casually like it's something normal.

you shake your head in disbelief, but you couldn't lie to yourself, just the thought of you making him hard was a huge turn on.

gyuvin could tell you were slipping into your submissive role already, the state he most adored you in. he placed a stray hair behind your ear and smiled at you.

"do you wanna help me out?" gyuvin asked with those beautiful puppy dog eyes. although u could tell he really needed this right now, you know he wouldn't force you into anything you didnt want to do.

instead of responding, you pull him in for a long and heated kiss. what started out slow and innocent turned into gyuvin shoving you against one of the shelves in the closet.

you gasp as your back hits the shelf. while part of you wanted gyuvin to publicly be yours, you couldn't deny how exciting it was having these secret sessions only the two of you knew about.

gyuvin moves from your lips down to your neck, being careful not to leave any noticeable marks there.

growing impatient, you nudge your knee against his crotch as he lets out a deep groan. gyuvin giggles at your lack of control and quickly gives in and lifts up your skirt. yeah, this was definitely his favorite part of the uniforms you guys had to wear.

he moves your panties to the side and immediately feels the wetness between your legs. you let out a sweet whimper, possibly one of gyuvin's favorite sounds in the world.

he slowly rubbed circles around your clit just to get you to relax a bit more. this only continued for a few minutes because he was simply too impatient. he needed to be inside you again.

helping him undo his belt, he quickly gets rid of his pants and throws them somewhere behind him. he then takes out a condom and rolls it onto his length, fingers fumbling due to his speed.

gyuvin gives you another sweet kiss as you feel him finally enter you. he groans at the feeling of your tight walls around his throbbing cock.

knowing the last time he was inside you was only two days ago, he wastes no time in fucking you mercilessly against the shelf.

your latch on to him and rest your forehead on his chest, his strong arms holding you up.

"fuck, you always feel so good around my cock baby" gyuvin pants almost breathlessly.

you moan in return, barely able to speak a sentence due to his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you.

trying to focus on something, you glance down at his hands. those veiny fucking hands.

as of gyuvin could read your mind, he wraps one of them around your throat. you knew it was game over for you.

"gyuvin i-im cumming" you're barely able to spit out before your orgasm shakes ur entire body. knowing you can get loud when you cum, he takes the hand that was around your throat and places it over your mouth.

"hold on baby, im almost done" gyuvin says as he kisses your forehead. he only manages to get a few more thrusts in before he's cumming with a deep moan.

he pumps into you a few more times before finally pulling out and helping you to stand. when you guys make eye contact again, you both let out a laugh. you couldn't believe this was your life.

after you both clean up the best you can, you exit the janitors closet together. when you step outside, you see hanbin standing on the other side of the hallway, a look of disbelief but also humor on his face.

"I KNEW IT!" he shouts loud enough for anyone passing by to hear. you and gyuvin look at each other and he grabs your hand.

"let's just make it official" he says with a look of adoration on his face.

[pspaura27-blog]

Uncle Sukuna!

Feat. Teacher!

After his graduation, Yaga asks if he wants to be a teacher, citing that he is strong and all, but Yaga actually prays that Sukuna will get a bratty student so he can suffer, too.

Sukuna doesn’t want to live in Sendai, Jin’s PDA with the damn woman and all, so he agrees.

Then, he meets his Karma, the triple S: Satoru, Suguru, Shoko. Urgh.

He is late 3 minutes to the first homeroom class and Gojo breaks the window in a damn fight with Geto.

“Now, who the fuck did that?!”

“Sensei, I—”

“Fuck, you know what? I don’t give a shit, go run laps, all of you brats!”

Gojo Satoru is very bratty, confident in his own strength, and he likes to flip Sukuna off. So, the two duel it out in the training ground.

Sukuna is old and he also wins(?) in canon, so he knocks Satoru to the ground and mocks him.

“Ha! So this is all the Six Eyes holder can do, huh? I guess you are fucking overrated, brat. Now, get your ass up and go do the fucking report!”

He regrets it later when Satoru wouldn’t leave him alone, determined to win against him one way or another.

Satoru seems like the type to knock his room at 3 in the morning for a round.

And he has to clean up after their mess.

The Star Plasma in particular. Sukuna knows it. Geto Suguru is as fucking reckless as his buddy, that’s a fucking apartment he blows up! And who deals with paperworks and those fucking elders? Him!

[[Sensei, it wasn’t me—]]

[[I’ll chop you into damn pieces, brat! Better be prepare for an F!]]

God, does this mean he fight with Toji?!

Sukuna is waiting at the gate for his students to return with Riko. Then, he lets Gojo get stabbed because—

“You didn’t see that, huh? That’s pathetic. You better train harder if you wanna call yourself the strongest.” Sukuna scoffs and throws him to Geto. “Get out of my way, brat.”

“…” Riko thinks she knows where Gojo gets his attitude from!

After wrecking buildings, Sukuna wins and gets Megumi..?

He feels his veins throb, does he look like a charity person or something? Hello, he even has a face tattoo! Take care of your own damn brat because he will not do that!

Probably heals Toji so he doesn’t have to take Megumi.

“Our teacher might look like that but he is a softie.” Suguru smiles softly. “When he told us about this mission, he said that—”

“Do it, brats, if you’re so weak that you need another brat to protect you. I dare you!”

“And the elders—”

“I don’t take order from those weaker than me.”

“Oh, I didn’t— expect that.”

Suguru hums. “He likes kids, actually.”

Sukuna goes to visit his bratty nephew that month. Yuuji is 3 but he runs to tackle his leg like a little octopus.

“Un-cal Kuna!” Yuuji squeals. “Whoa, me misses you s’a lot! Kuna, you bwing me owange candies?”

“Are you missing me or candies, brat?”

He grumbles but still pulls out a bag of orange candies for his toddler nephew. He doesn’t spoil the brat. He just doesn’t want to listen to him complaining.

“Oh, dear, how are you here?” Kaori walks out to greet him with a surprised smile. “I thought our elders fried you alive by now. It was Master Tengen after all.”

“Like those wrinkle bastard can do anything to me.”

That star brat is, like, 10 years older than Yuuji. Deep down, he thinks it’s just wrong, it could have been Yuuji, but he will never admit it.

Yuuji chews on his candy, mumbling a new word under his breath. “Bash-tard.”

“Don’t repeat that, brat!”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure. 

You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey. 

As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words. 

‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar. 

The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed? 

“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.” 

“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--” 

“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.” 

The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him. 

“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through. 

“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within. 

The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further. 

The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin. 

“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--” 

“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.” 

“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists. 

The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths. 

You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee. 

“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.” 

“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--” 

“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.” 

“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--” 

“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.” 

“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.” 

The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly. 

“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.” 

“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.” 

She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.” 

“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--” 

“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--” 

The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up. 

“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips. 

“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.” 

“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?” 

“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance. 

“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.” 

“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly. 

“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues. 

“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--” 

“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!” 

The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you. 

“Go, fetch wine,” he relents. 

You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him. 

You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue. 

You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid. 

You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving. 

You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him. 

“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides. 

The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly. 

“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps. 

“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?” 

The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.  

“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt. 

“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?” 

Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you. 

“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath. 

As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber. 

You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy. 

You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall. 

Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze. 

“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.” 

“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.” 

Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts. 

“Wait, what happened?” She mopes. 

“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.” 

“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.” 

Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead. 

“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses. 

“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.” 

He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold. 

“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.” 

“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.” 

“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine. 

Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind. 

The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no. 

“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise. 

You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose. 

“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.” 

“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.” 

“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!” 

“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says. 

“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.  

As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair. 

“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.” 

“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.” 

“Let the maid go,” the king grits. 

“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.” 

Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.” 

“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.” 

“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks. 

You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly. 

“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.” 

The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples. 

“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises. 

“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.” 

The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself. 

“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?” 

Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?” 

[becauseimanicequeen]

Don't Ask Me for QL Recommendations Because My Taste is BAD

Bad as in TRASHY.

For your own good, don't ask me for recommendations.

I'm writing this because I've gotten some asks lately for QL recommendations and I wanted to spare you the pain.

If you still don't trust me (because to be fair, why would you? I'm just a random weirdo on the internet), let me tell you how bad my taste is so you'll know why I'm doing you a great favor by sparing you the pain.

(I also watch, and rewatch, series/films for ridiculous reasons, yet another reason not to listen to me. I’ll come back to this in a minute.)

Let's start with a brief rewind to a couple of decades ago (because it matters in this context).

The first queer content of any kind I can remember watching was Xena: The Warrior Princess in the late 90s and early 00s (I was a child/pre-teen at the time). It was such a pivotal point for me, which is why I remember it vividly. Not only was Lucy Lawless (the actress playing Xena) the most beautiful human being I had ever seen at that point, Xena was also queer and I loved her.

The series, though? It’s bad.

It’s over-the-top, contains ridiculous humor, face-palm-worthy fight scenes, etc., etc. (But, it was also the 90s, so it was quality television at the time, no matter what anyone else says.) It was so bad that it was ridiculously entertaining. I would watch it today (if I could find it anywhere…). That’s how bad my taste is (or how attached I am to bad shit).

That’s when the groundwork for my bad taste was laid. I blame THANK Xena: The Warrior Princess for it.

Then there was a huge skip until July last year when I found the Asian QL world, because I had no idea it even existed (I’m from Europe, btw).

(My personal story is that I fell into the queer/gay film world before the QL world, and the queer films I could find were made and released very sporadically. But ever since I found the treasure trove of Asian QL series in July 2023, I’ve watched 291 series/films as of right now.)

The reason I fell into the Asian QL world was thanks to a Short on YouTube with the main characters from Roommates of Poongduck 304 kissing. (Want to know what convinced me to watch it? One of them was wearing blue and the other pink, two of my favorite colors. Yep, that’s the reason. Told you it would be ridiculous.)

Since then, I’ve been exploring this rabbit hole and loving every second of all the bad shit that’s out there (there’s some great shit too, and some great things that aren’t shit at all, but they’re not really my taste because my taste is trashy, remember?).

I quickly noticed what my taste was pulling me towards and, in some cases, the trashier it was, the more I liked it.

(I’m talking about fiction here. I’m mature enough to be able to separate fiction from reality. Just because I enjoy watching a series/film that depicts a problematic topic, and sometimes do it in a problematic way, doesn’t mean I condone it in real life. I’m just putting this here as a disclaimer because people on the internet are easily offended nowadays. And I honestly don’t have time to respond to people who are venting their anger after purposefully misinterpreting what I’ve said, unless there’s a very valid reason, which there usually isn’t.)

So, what are some of my favorites that I absolutely do not recommend you watch?

Unless you want to watch trash, then, have at it. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

(Btw, if you like any of these, I apologize for calling your taste bad and trashy. But, if you like any of these, I think you already know your taste is bad. Also, if you like any of these, hey, bestie!)

Let’s start with the less extreme ones so I don’t scare you away from the start. After that, they’re in no particular order.

(With the issues/TW section for each series/film I include possible trigger warnings, taboo topics, what viewers/commenters have brought up as problematic, my possible issues with the writing, etc. I won’t list everything (because some of them would have looong lists) but I’m including some of the major ones.)

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, age gap, “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers, etc.

Both couples in this series have their own set of issues. Ai Di and Chen Yi are the “adoptive” brothers who become lovers while Ze Rui and Zong Yi have an age gap (I can’t remember how big of an age gap but I think it was close to 10-ish years).

(Before I move on there’s one thing you should know about me… I was born into a family with a varying degree of age gaps within marriages, from 2 to 23 years. Even though we’ve talked about the bigger age gaps occasionally, it’s never been an issue. I don’t mind age gaps as long as they’re legal. Does that mean I would hook up with someone in their late teens or early twenties? No. I would rather hook up with someone who has a fully developed brain, which science suggests doesn’t happen until somewhere in the mid-to-late-twenties. But it does mean that age gaps (as long as they’re legal) aren’t something I’ll be bothered by or judgemental of.)

Kiseki: Dear to Me is one of my favorite series because:

It’s from Taiwan, and the Taiwanese QLs are generally great at dealing with more difficult and taboo topics.

Ai Di is the feistiest, most colorful, and pettiest bitch and I love him with my entire ice-cold heart.

Chen Yi looks amazing in black.

The neon lights (because I’m a slut for that).

Also, the kissing (from both couples) is great.

You know, I did say that these would be series/films I absolutely do not recommend you watch. But I’ll actually recommend this one. Watch it. It’s great.

Unknown (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Age gap, “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers, etc.

This is another one I’ll actually recommend you watch because it’s great.

The main couple (Qian and Yuan) are the “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers while the age gap is most prominent between San Pang (Qian’s business partner) and Lili (Qian’s younger sister). There’s also the fact that San Pang is part of their chosen family and has seen Lili grow up and stuff. So, if that bothers you, then don’t watch it.

The biggest reasons I would personally recommend it to those I know aren’t particularly bothered by taboo topics are because:

The yearning is palpable (and I love shit like that).

Qian would move heaven and earth for his family.

The great story.

The even more amazing acting.

Some moments made me bawl (and since I'm an ice queen, I get obsessed with shit that shatters my ice and makes me cry).

I know I said my taste is trashy… but I would actually give myself a gold star for loving this one.

Now, back to the real trash…

Love in the Air (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, rape, MAME, etc.

Everyone and their aunt (or however the saying goes in English) seem to have an issue with MAME (the original creator of LITA and several other trashy BLs) and for good reason. (I would say that she improved a lot with Wedding Plan, which is the least problematic thing I’ve watched from her and it’s the latest series of hers, as of right now.) If she’s grown, remains to be seen. But it doesn’t change the fact that LITA has some issues.

Honestly, I just watch this for the visuals, as in the motorcycles and the neon lights. That’s it. That’s the reason.

I mean, if you look at the whole first sex scene between Sky and Prapai, you get what I mean with the neon lights. It’s divine. (I recently rewatched LITA for this very reason. A waste of time, you say? Not when you’re a slut for neon lights.)

Don’t watch this though! Just enjoy this gif instead…

I just saved you 13-ish hours of your life. You’re welcome.

TharnType and TharnType 2: 7 Years of Love (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, homophobia, domestic violence, MAME, etc.

Don’t watch this. This is bad. As in, really bad. And all the issues are in the main couple’s relationship.

But, since my taste is really bad, I rewatched this recently for horny reasons (it’s Mew, after all, and he’s got me in a chokehold for some reason). It’s still as bad as I remembered it, but I would still rewatch it for Mew’s sake (and because Techno is ridiculous throughout both seasons, which means I love him).

To be fair there are other, a lot spicier, series that I watch more often for horny reasons (yes, some of them are in this post because they’re trashy too), but none of them include Mew. And since I have to get my dose of Mew from time to time, I return to TharnType (especially the second season).

Big Dragon (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, blackmail, etc.

This isn’t that problematic in my opinion, but there is definitely a drug-induced sexcapade that’s taped and used for blackmail for a while. And that's how the series starts.

I recently did a rewatch of this and it was still bad (in a good way) and I loved every second of it.

What I love about this series are:

The visuals. The set designs are beautiful (especially Yai’s home and the bar, before he demolishes it). As a visual artist, this is speaking to my soul.

The chemistry between Yai and Mangkorn.

Pong and Park. Two idiots I love with my whole ice-cold heart.

And the title track because it’s addictive as hell to listen to.

Also, the sex (which my horny ass needs). Let's not forget the sex. Those scenes were also visually stunning, which made me love them even more.

Honestly, I'll kneel and bow down to this shit because it's that great.

Don’t trust my judgment, though, because my taste is trashy.

Only Friends (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Manipulation, stalking, promiscuity, etc.

This series is messy in terms of intrigue (especially from Boston and then Boeing’s part). The ending had some issues. The sex isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, either. I, on the other hand, would drink a whole pot of this.

Overall, I loved this trash. Mainly because of:

How visually stunning it is.

Sand. He’s a hardworking, good person. He’s also a proud bi!

How they depicted and handled Ray’s addiction and recovery. (I know some watchers were upset that the focus of the series landed on Sand and Ray towards the end while neglecting the other characters, which is a valid point. However, setting that aside, the way they portrayed Ray’s addiction and then his road to recovery in the last couple of episodes was realistic, and I loved it.)

The promiscuity, because I loved it and the mess it created.

Boston being a slutty asshole. The more of a slutty asshole he was, the more I loved him. (I know, it’s a me-problem.)

Boeing coming in and kissing (almost) everyone.

It’s trashy, it’s messy, and I love it!

But, I don’t recommend it to anyone.

My Beautiful Man 1, 2, and 3 Eternal (Japan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, obsession, bullying, lack of (or no real) communication, etc.

I love this series (2 seasons + 1 film), but I honestly don’t see it as particularly problematic. But I know others will disagree with me, so here it is on my list of trashy QLs.

I don’t mind Hira’s obsession because I know Kiyoi is just as whipped for Hira (even though he doesn’t know how to communicate it to Hira at first, especially in a way that Hira understands). Would I be okay with someone’s obsession and stalking in real life? Of course not. But, as I mentioned before, I’m mature enough to separate fiction from reality.

Also, I love miscommunicating characters, especially when the misunderstandings they create bring out all the emotions (angst, hurt, anger, sadness, embarrassment, etc.) and even the flight response. I especially love miscommunicating characters when they learn to communicate throughout the series/film. And this series is especially delicious on the miscommunicating part.

But, it’s also problematic, apparently. So, don’t watch it.

The End of the World With You (Japan)

Issues/TW: Blackmail, biphobia, cheating, etc.

I’ll be honest and say that I’ve only watched this series three times. And that’s because the biphobia is fucking annoying. In this series, the bi character is depicted as a cheater (which is common in QLs, btw). It’s an exasperating stereotype. Cheating has nothing to do with your sexuality and everything to do with who you are as a person.

(I mean, you can be a proud bi like Payu in LITA or Sand in OF. They have eyes only for one person as soon as they’re pursuing or dating someone. Give me more bi characters like this, please.)

We could discuss how cheating can be used as characterization in certain stories. But not in this one. Here, they’re basically using Ritsu’s bisexuality as the reason he’s cheating (since he’s sleeping with Masumi while having a thing going on with a girl, and then sleeping with a girl when he has a thing with Masumi), which is why it’s bothering me in this series.

If I’m going to tell you why I like this series, however, it’s for 2 reasons:

It’s about getting a second chance, a topic I love.

The sex (laser-focused horny Ritsu is my favorite Ritsu).

Check Out (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Biphobia, cheating, lazy writing, etc.

(It should be mentioned that I’ve read some comments about some issues involving the company behind this series. I haven’t dug deeper into this so I don’t really know if there’s any substance to the comments I’ve read (like official statements from the company or the other people involved, etc.). But I’m putting this out there in case this might be a potential issue for you (even though I’ve already told you that I don’t recommend you watch any of these because they’re all trashy).)

When I first checked this out at the beginning of this year, this series seemed to have created a storm of bad comments and reviews on MDL since it first came out. So, obviously, I needed to watch it because my taste is trashy.

And, you know what? I loved it!

Besides having the bi character depicted as a cheater (again, the use of this biphobic stereotype is so fucking annoying) and the sporadic clunky and stale scenes, I loved this series because:

It’s about second chances. As I mentioned before, I love that topic.

Best (the actor playing Daonuea) is the best in this series. There’s just something about him that grabs my attention every time. He has me in a similarly tight chokehold as Mew.

There’s sex (and my horny ass needs it).

But, it’s also trash, so don’t watch it.

Pit Babe (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Domestic violence, non-consensual, SA, age gap, etc.

This became popular. Really popular. I saw people comment about it everywhere. And usually, when stuff becomes popular, it’s more than likely reduced to trash quality by the general public. So, obviously, I had to watch it.

Did I end up loving it? Yes.

Honestly, the biggest issue this series had for me was the whole omegaverse thing (this was a new thing for me because I don’t come from an erotic fiction background, my head was rather stuck in fantasy fiction). And, from my limited understanding of this, they didn’t seem to fully commit to the omegaverse thing in Pit Babe, which was unfortunate.

The racing was also so-so for me, which hurt my soul because I usually love racing (cars, mcs, boats, etc.).

What I did like, however, was:

The chemistry between Pete and Kenta (and I’m so sad I only got crumbs of this).

Pavel (the actor playing Babe). I would watch and listen to him recite product placement scripts for toothpaste all day long.

The sex, especially the scene with Babe and Charlie in ep. 9 (even though it was mixed with clips from the racing) and Jeff and Alan’s scene in ep. 13 (because it was sensual, if we ignore the music).

The neon lights (have I mentioned that I’m a slut for neon lights?). I mean, just look at this:

I can watch that pinkish light all day long, even though Babe and Charlie are trying to distract me. (Especially Pavel!)

Dead Friend Forever (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Grooming, bullying, suicide & suicide attempts, etc.

Besides the issues listed above, this also suffered from lazy writing at the end. BUT, I fucking loved DFF anyway.

I never expected to love this series because it’s just a bunch of teenagers stuck at a house in the woods. How interesting could that be? Turns out, very.

DFF wasn’t perfect (perfection doesn’t exist anyway), but what I loved about it was:

The morally ambiguous characters.

The revenge plot.

The poetic justice.

The questioning of what was real vs hallucination.

The visually stunning shots.

The mask!

And Tan’s mask!

The beheading scene.

I could go on, but you get the point. I just love this piece of trash.

But, please, don’t watch it. You will suffer from brain rot. Trust me.

I, however, am currently rewatching this because I choose the brain rot. And my taste is trashy, remember? Or, perhaps I just love watching chaos unfold…

HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, age gap, tragic ending, etc.

Everyone and their aunt and even their dog have an issue with the ending of this one. And it’s understandable.

I don’t necessarily like or dislike the ending. Obviously, the bury your gays trope is tragic in itself, and, tragically, it’s still being used. That’s why I couldn’t find myself liking the ending, even though I don’t mind tragic endings. (Romeo and Juliet is one of my favorite classics, which people tend to forget is a tragedy and not a romance, btw, but I digress…)

At the same time, though, this series made me cry for a whole episode before tragedy struck because I could feel it. And you have no idea how obsessed I get about shit that makes me cry (since I’m an ice queen).

(Another side note: one of my favorite BLs is Once Again, which made me bawl throughout the whole series. It’s not on this list because it’s neither trashy nor bad, but it’s still one of my favorites because it broke me in the best ways. But, anyway…)

The best part of this series from beginning to end was the other couple, at least for me. This couple is the one with the age gap (which, again, doesn’t bother me) and I fucking love them! One, because Wilson Liu (the actor playing Bo Xiang) is such a gem. Second, because their first time was such a spur-of-the-moment thing fueled by a desire that went from 0-100kph in less time than a Ferrari would. And I loved it (just as much as the squeezing of boobs from behind, which, for some reason, appeals to me).

Also, the twins are so pretty it’s annoying.

Do I recommend it, though? No, because I don’t have time to respond to the clap back I’ll get when you come to the end.

HIStory 4: Close to You (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, obsession, age gap, stepbrothers becoming lovers, etc.

This one has some problems (especially the relationship between Yong Jie and Xing Si), but I love both the series and its problems (yes, I’m trash). You could say that I’m as obsessed with this series as Yong Jie is with Xing Si. Would I get this series drunk and fuck the living daylights out of it? No. But I would watch it once every 3 months or so. Oh, wait… I already do that. Because I’m trash.

What do I love so much about this series (other than what I mentioned above):

It’s from Taiwan.

Li Cheng is ridiculous, which is exactly why I love him.

Every time I rewatch it, it gets funnier.

The chemistry between Li Cheng and Teng Teng is amazing.

As well as the chemistry between Yong Jie and Xing Si.

The kissing is just as amazing.

The main fujoshi girl, Mei Fang, is so cute I can’t handle her.

And the bathroom scene! In that lighting! It’s iconic!

I don’t care what anyone else says. This is fucking gold to me. But, then again, my taste is trash. So, don’t listen to me.

KinnPorsche (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, torture, Stockholm syndrome-ish, etc.

This is some next-level trash, and I fucking love it.

Two of the major relationships in this series (Kinn & Porsche and Vegas & Pete) are problematic at some point. Especially Vegas and Pete who have this whole captor/captive, torture, BDSM-ish type relationship. Of course, I love Vegas and Pete because my taste is super trashy (yes, it’s a me-problem, but I don’t force my taste on other people, so, for the love of all that is holy, don’t watch this!).

Other reasons I love this series and rewatch it from time to time:

It’s visually stunning! The cinematography is amazing. As I mentioned before, I’m a visual artist, so this is a very valid reason for me to watch it again and again. And again.

The neon lights.

The whole mafia thing.

The sex (because my horny ass needs it).

Playboyy (Thailand)

Issues/TW: SA, homophobia, suicide, etc.

I was debating whether or not to add this to my list solely based on the ending. However, up until that point, I really liked it.

The fact that every episode starts with a whole ass list of trigger warnings tells me this is my shit. And it was.

At times, it was so bad that it was good (until the ending, which was just so bad it was bad). The things I liked were:

The mystery.

Win (who played Nuth). His acting was great.

The chemistry between Nuth and Phop.

The tattooed daddy that’s Aob and his chemistry with Puen (there’s also an age gap here, btw, but as I’ve mentioned before, it’s fine by me as long as it’s legal).

The weird ass sex scenes (and the underwear).

And the not so weird ass sex scenes (like the ones between Aob and Puen and the ones between Nuth and Phop).

But, this series is trashy. Keep as far away from it as possible. If you still decide to dip in, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Red Wine in the Dark Night (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Obsession, blood, human blood bags, etc.

This is a queer film that’s BL-ish with some dark themes. Mainly, it’s about how far Wine would go to help the person he’s fallen for (or become attached to).

What I loved about this film was:

Fluke (who plays Wine). He’s such a great actor and I love him in everything he does.

Wine who is so desperate to love someone and be loved that he ends up doing some weird shit.

The darker and sadder vibe, which I love.

Irresistible Love 1 and Irresistible Love 2 (China)

(This is also called Uncontrolled Love.) 

Issues/TW: Obsession, homophobia, codependency, adoptive brothers becoming lovers, etc.

This is another queer film (in two parts) that is more BL-ish than the films I’m getting into below.

This depicts a weird relationship dynamic between Xie Yan and Shu Nian where Shu Nian was basically adopted into the family to become Xie Yan’s friend/babysitter/lackey. This is some weird ass shit, and I love weird ass shit so I really enjoyed this rare, uncensored, gem from China.

But, it’s also trashy. So, don’t watch it.

The next couple of films I’ll mention are (obviously) trashy, but also complex and deep (which is why I love them).

One Summer Night (South Korea)

Issues/TW: Obsession, dependency, oppression, etc.

This is a low-budget film from 2016 (so, production-wise, it’s definitely nothing like the usual stuff from South Korea you can watch on Netflix), but I love it.

It’s gritty, it’s raw, it’s explicit (an emphasis on explicit because you’ll see dicks), it deals with being a North Korean defector but ending up in an impoverished situation in South Korea, and it ends with a dubious ending you can interpret in different ways.

This is definitely not for the general QL viewers who watch QLs for the cutesy stuff.

And it's trashy. So, don’t watch it.

Dangerous Drugs of Sex (Japan)

Issues/TW: All the trigger warnings! Seriously. I feel like it’s better to say that so you’ll look up the TWs for yourself (if you choose to watch this, which I'm asking you not to) rather than me mentioning a few and forgetting others.

With this film, what others see are all the trigger warnings (and, yes, I see them too, they’re fucking obvious). However, I can see beyond that and watch it for what it is at the core: Two characters dealing with incredible grief.

Grief is a topic that often affects me and I can relate to it because I’ve had to deal with a lot of grief in my relatively short life. Watching a film like this where grief pushes the characters to their very limits will (often) get a special place in my heart, especially if done well. And it’s done very well in this film.

Do I condone the characters’ behaviors? No (especially not Yoden Ryoji’s). But I do understand that grief can send you over the edge (and in some cases throw you off the edge) because I’ve experienced it. I do understand that grief can cause you to make horrible decisions because I’ve done it (though, not this extreme). I do understand that grief can be self-destructive because I’ve been there. This film shows it all. That’s why I love it so much.

Do I recommend you watch this, tough? No. Don’t do it. This is not for everyone. It’s definitely not for those who watch QLs for the cutesy stuff.

But it is for me because I love trash. Especially good trash. And this is the best trash I’ve ever seen when it comes to gay films.

Anything by Scud Cheng

Lastly, I want to mention any film by Scud Cheng because…

And I’m an artist so art means everything to me.

Cheng is a screenwriter and director from Hong Kong. His films, the ones I’ve seen, are gritty, nude, and real. They are more on the art side than the others I’ve listed above, which is why they have a special place in my heart.

They’re also deep and explore themes like introspection (are we doing things because we believe they’re the right thing to do, or because external forces have “brainwashed” us to believe they’re the normal thing to do?), the porn industry and how it exploits young and queer men, death, politics, and love, to name a few.

These are not for the average QL watcher. They’re not for the faint of heart. They’re not for those who want an entertaining watch.

These films require multiple viewings. I’ve watched some once, some twice, and some more times, and I still find new themes and meanings woven into the stories. So, they’re complex and deep.

But, don’t watch them because I know you’ll come at me later. So, to spare us both the time and energy it would take to argue about this shit, just don’t watch any of it.

Now, if you still want to ask me for recommendations after all that, don't tell me I didn't warn you!