#i was in game for like… six hours at least…… so as you can imagine i now have well over three hundred screenshots of mattodore lmaooo

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

request for mr. kelce. so, y'all were talking about how it would be in bed with him after the deed. anyways, can i request fluffiest, mushiest, cutest fic of travis doting on y/n? i am talking: forehead kisses, tracing his fingers on her back, moving her hair out of her face, laying on his chest. holding her in his arms, making sure she's okay / checking in with her (HEAVY on the aftercare). all the good stuff. like this man doesn't want to let her go. i just imagine her trying to escape his big muscly arms at some point to go to the bathroom, and this man just wont let her go. i am sure you will deliver. thank you :)

Before, During and After

Travis was good with his hands, there was no doubt. He had made a career of it, garnering the attention of millions of fans, with two Super Bowl rings to solidify his talent.

In your humble opinion, he really should be known for the aptitude of his tongue. It had brought you to more leg-shaking, eye rolling orgasms than you could count (you tried keeping count at one point, but stopped when he made you cum six times in a row the night he won his second championship ring), and you were nothing but appreciative of the fact that he saved all of that natural ability just for you.

You spent most of the night after Travis returned from an away game in bed, and when you weren't engaging in explicit activities, you were wrapped up in the security of his strong arms, shutting out the world for at least a couple of hours.

This particular night, Travis came home hungry, determined to ravish you and have you writhing underneath him, and you were willingly at his mercy as he proved just how much he missed you. You shivered as Travis grazed his fingers against your pert nipples, your chest heaving with each breath as you came down from your high. He pressed kisses against your bare chest, tasting the saltiness of your sweat against his tongue.

You watched as he pushed up from the bed, his back muscles flexing as he walked to the bathroom, returning shortly with a warm towel. He gently spread your legs, lightly wiping your skin clean. You relaxed against the bed, feeling the soft terry cloth as he moved up to your stomach and chest. He threw the towel to the floor, kneeling at the edge of the bed to lay between your thighs.

"You got one more in you?" He asked, a cheeky smile on his face as he rested his head on your stomach, stroking the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. You whimpered at the thought, your core clenching instinctively as he inched his hand up.

"I'm spent. I don't think I could even if I wanted to." You shook your head, stroking the back of his buzzcut hair. He chuckled as he watched your legs tremble, residual muscle fatigue setting in.

"You did so good for me baby girl. I'd been thinking about you all weekend." Travis laid a sloppy kiss onto your stomach, his lips lingering against your skin. "I missed you too baby", you muttered, finally catching your breath.

"Oh sorry, I was talking to her." Travis looked down at your glistening core, pressing a kiss to your mound. You rolled your eyes, pushing his head off of your lap. "Oh my god, you're ridiculous." You couldn't hide your giggle at his terrible joke. You tried to get up off the bed, but struggled as Travis wrapped his large hand around your forearm, easily pulling you back down on the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" He bit at his bottom lip, taking in the sight of your naked body in front of him.

"Bathroom, I need to pee and shower."

"Uh huh, that can wait. Come back here." His voice was gruff and hoarse from a long day on the field, exasperated by his grunts and praises mid-coitus.

"Travis, please", you whined out. Even though you objected with your words, you fell back into his hold, resting your cheek against his broad chest, feeling the tickle of his chest hair.

"I'm not ready to let you go." He whispered into your hair, placing a kiss on your forehead as he dug his fingers into the delicate flesh of your hips, pulling you impossibly close into his body. Feeling the goosebumps raise on your skin as your body cooled down, he grabbed the comforter, wrapping both of you up to get warm.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, his hands finding your hair. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, cupping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Did you get more beautiful?", he questioned. He searched your features as you blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach he always brought you even two years into dating. You nuzzled your face into his neck out of embarrassment, but he pulled you back up to look at him, his blue eyes glistening in the room light.

"I really don't know how to answer that." You admitted, feeling the heat crawl up your neck under his stare.

"When I said goodbye to you on Saturday, I didn't think I could get any luckier being with the most beautiful woman, but tonight, I don't know, I'm thinking its possible." He pushed a strand of hair out of your face as you dropped your gaze.

"Oh my goodness, when did you get so cheesy?" You were grinning, tracing against his strong jaw line, buried beneath weeks of beard growth.

"Anything to see that smile, baby." Travis laughed as he pulled you in for another kiss, this one more desperate and passionate, your lips pressing together forcefully. He gently pulled your weight on top of him, his hands traveling up and down your back, never breaking contact.

The two of you laid together in silence for what felt like both forever and a split second, your eyelids growing heavy as Travis drew circles on the back of your arm, lulling you to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of the running shower. The room was dark, except from the light pouring from the bathroom, Travis' large figure casting a shadow over you as he stood in the doorway.

"Are you up for a shower?" He whispered, walking over to you, his boxers hanging low at his hips.

"Too tired", you muttered, allowing your eyes to close.

"Baby, c'mon, five minutes."

Travis lifted you off the bed, carrying you to the bathroom. He pressed a kiss into your shoulder blade before carefully helping you into the shower, the warm water feeling like heaven against your body. He shed his clothes, stepping in behind you. You rested your head against his chest as he washed your hair and body, massaging your back, releasing any tension you had been holding in.

He dried you off, taking his time as he held you in his arms, peppering kiss across your face. You wrapped your hair in a towel as he dried off and got dressed, slipping on the pajamas he laid out for you.

You settled back into bed, the wave of exhaustion hitting you all over again as you tucked under the blankets. Travis turned off the bathroom light, giving you a quick kiss before beginning to leave the room.

"Where are you going, babe?" You asked, not even bothering to open your eyes, as you heard his heavy footsteps walking away.

"I was gonna watch some tape before I go to bed."

"Can you watch it in the morning? I'll sleep better with you here." You patted the bed next to you, pulling the blanket back on his side. Travis didn't even hesitate crawling back into the bed, pulling you toward him, so your back was pressed against his chest, snuggling against your head.

"Good night, baby." You felt the hum of his voice against your hair, a small smile crawling onto your face.

"Good night Travis."

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#travis kelce #traviskelce #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce smut #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction #nfl imagine #nfl smut #nfl fluff #travis kelce fluff

[xjulixred45x]

I was thinking.....Satoru Gojo with an older brother reader.

KIND OF SECOND PART

Whether you were several years older than Satoru or just a year, as soon as he was born you were completely forgotten by the entire Gojo clan, of course, they kept you alive and continued to love you, but you were definitely no longer a priority at all unlike your younger brother born with the Six Eyes.

It hurts at first, but you quickly realize that it's actually not such a good thing to be your little brother. He is spoiled non-stop, yes, but even when he is just a baby, you see how the rest of the clans see him as a threat, a nuisance, something more than a someone.

and that hurts you even more.

so you decide to be a good older brother to Satoru, even if he has the world on his shoulders, you always try to let him be as much of a child as possible.whether it's spoiling him with candy, taking him out of training sessions, showing him Digimon games(he thanks You this FOR LIFE), etc.

and Satoru is no stranger to this.

everyone knows it, he is a spoiled child when it comes to his "big older brother" who, although weaker than him, definitely keeps very close while they grow up. Satoru is very grateful that you tried to give him a childhood even if it was not possible due to his context, you treated him with great affection that was different from the others, it was tender, sweet, genuine.

Thanks to this you always had more "control" over Satoru than everyone in the Gojo clan, either to make him behave or at least not make so many problems.

Satoru literally changed his face completely when it was YOU who spoke to him. Did you see that scene where he was walking through the city alone when he was a kid? You can bet you were looking for him for a solid half hour and when he saw you he said, "don't look at me weaklings" to "howdy Big bro :D" in seconds.

In general Satoru is very clingy with his older brother, if he has to go out with him, he is attached to his leg or his hand, on his shoulders, on a piggyback, etc. His personal favorite is when his brother carries him, with his arms around his neck and his legs curled up, he can even fall asleep like that.

and rest assured that Satoru fiercely protects his older brother, even if he is not weak, the difference in power between the two is overwhelming, so Satoru will not hesitate to go on the defensive for his brother. not only in battle, but also against ignorant people who try to harm him in some way, be it tarnishing his reputation, making him feel less than, any of those things are a great offense in Satoru's eyes, he is not going to tolerate it.

He only becomes more attached to his brother as he grows up, if you have a girlfriend/boyfriend, Satoru will be judging them non-stop, for him no one is worthy of his brother, but if they make you happy, he is happy, but they would have to meet a minimum number of requirements to enter the family (even the Gojo Clan backs him up with this).

Satoru greatly appreciates his brother's ideology now that he is in Jujutsu Tech, now that he believes he understands better what it means to be the strongest. but when reality hits him with what happened with Geto and Amanai, his brother is the first to console him, even thinking that he has failed them in some way, because HE is supposed to be the older brother who protects the younger one, and that he cannot that he was completely young, he feels that he completely failed Satoru. that he has been a bad brother.

and Satoru will not listen to this nonsense.

Satoru refuses to let you put yourself down and your efforts to take care of him, to avoid all this, you are the best brother he could ask for. the only.

(imagine his reaction when he found out that Satoru had impulsively adopted a child from someone who almost killed him and he KILLED on top of it)

Both brothers mature as the years go by, you may even have your own family (with someone you love who miraculously passed the requirements of the Gojo and Satoru) and if you have children, damn, Satoru would spoil them SOOOOO much, he's the quintessential funny uncle(and handsome, he says)

Gojo's coworkers don't understand, how the hell does someone like Gojo of all people have a sweet, thoughtful family man as a brother? It is a mystery to everyone.

Satoru would be somewhat calmer if his brother decides not to continue being a sorcerer, but if he continues to be a sorcerer, he will definitely make him go on all his missions with him, his brother is not like him and he knows it, they both have the same ideas, they hate the ones in charge, and they REFUSE to let these kids' youth be stolen-

but Satoru does not have a family to return to, Satoru does not have a home with people who depend on him in a genuine and loving way, his brother does. but the higher ups wouldn't be bothered if he died simply because it's not him

For the same reason, Satoru Gojo will protect the weak even if it seems exhausting, he will save the world if necessary, because also in this world is his brother,and also the world that his brother wants to protect is only the most precious thing to him, who is only half of his.

_____

Shares, reglogs, and comments are very welcome!

#jjk #male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu no kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #platonic gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #platonic

[manicpixiefelix]

*crashes my imaginary car into your inbox*

OLLIE WHO WAS ADOPTED BY READER'S FAMILY!!!!!

I know this is a major shift in established dynamics but hear me out!!!

What if Oliver's tales about his home life were actually true, worse even so he ended up an orphan? He gets adopted by Reader's parents for the optics mainly because it makes them look good and they figure it'll provide their heir with a companion.

So they become this peculiar little duo, both very observant of the world and people around them. Ollie is a stranger to this world of the ultra rich and endures etiquette classes.

Oliver Quick becomes Oliver L/N, the boy uplifted from squalor by the heroic family *eye roll*

Reader is fiercely protective of their brother and will ruin anyone that insinuates he's not ~really~ family

I know we've never really discussed the ancestral home of Reader but I imagine it is every bit as grand and impressive as Saltburn. Ollie's favorite room is definitely the massive library.

BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS A LOT OF COURSE I LOVE HOW YOUR MIND WORKS!!!!

Of course your parents love the optics of it all.

You're six when they adopt Oliver, and he's five; this mousy little thing who doesn't smile often and barely speaks and can't look you in the eyes. He shys away from your overbearing, performative parents, but you seem to be able to see how overwhelmed he's getting. There's no words in your first interaction, only gestures, taking and keeping Oliver's focus as best you can to ground him in the moment; you teach him a simple game, and he returns the favour. Not a word between you two. By the end of the visit, you realise the adults have gone quiet; your parents and Oliver's case worker are just watching you both, marvelling. As you're looking away, Oliver himself finally steps towards you, taking your hand carefully and half hiding himself from them behind you, as if already deciding to trust you. You and Oliver had begun the day as strangers, and ended as siblings.

Your parents love to tell anyone who will listen about how when you first met Oliver you 'practically fixed yourself to his side and haven't moved since'. You look like the perfect family in photos, and the press is quick to forget how little research your parents did on the last charity they very publicly supported, and it's less than ideal history. Oliver learns to smile on command the way you feel like you've always known, but at least they don't make the two of you seperate in these moments.

Oliver says your house is like a fairy tale. At first he sticks close by you, overwhelmed by it all, but as the days turn to weeks and then months, you start to lose him as he goes exploring amongst the estate's many rooms and corridors. No-one knows the old house better then you, but Oliver is a close second; Nan says Mother used to scurry around just like you did, used to know every trick the old house had, but that was a lifetime ago.

Mother's study locks from the inside and Father works long hours in the city, so it's up to you to help Oliver settle in with the nannys and the tutors and the rest of the staff. Your parents like to buck tradition, so they're not precious enough to hire anyone to teach Oliver the etiquette that usually comes with wealth and a house like this, so long as he was polite and respectful and sweet faced in public, they couldn't care less which fork he used for salad. Honestly adults at events found his lack of grace and understanding of their unspoken rules charming in its sincerity. You, however, know that their condescending adoration grates on your brother's nerves as they talk to him like he was some kind of pet.

On the weekends Nan comes over, and it's clear that Oliver likes her the best of all the adults in your lives. Like you she doesn't pressure him to talk, always taking his silence in stride, but also taking the time and putting in the effort to understand him when he does try and communicate, however that may be.

In public - not that you're in public a lot - you and Oliver tend to cling to each other. As you grow older, even as you stop physically holding on to each other, you barely seem to stray from each other's shadow. Of the two of you, Oliver still is the far more reserved one, happy to let you do the talking most of the time, often only sharing his thoughts as quiet asides to you alone.

Considering your parents had no choice but to publicly acknowledge you in this universe, you and Oliver very much grow up in the public eye. The strange, observant duo who seemed to have the uncanny ability to wrap rooms full of adults, the upper echelons of society, around their little fingers, grow into beautiful and bitchy socialites.

Considering you're both getting privately tutored instead of going to a proper school, most of your time is spent travelling and attending events. Following the various Fashion Weeks around the world is a yearly tradition since you were teens, you go to concerts and film festivals and galas, always together, always inseperable. Or at least, inseperable when being seen by people who might matter. Oliver's confidence grows, he's far more open and even talkative in public than when he was a kid, but there's comfort in your established dynamic too. It returns most often at formal events, with Oliver half a step behind you, murmuring his commentary and amusing aside to you throughout the night.

A few of the independent tabloids your family didn't own print unsavoury rumours about your closeness, but those get pulled from news stands within the day, and a few threats of defamation lawsuits make them think twice before printing those kinds of articles again.

Everyone in the Western world knows who you both are, or has at least heard of you. But thankfully it's been years since anyone had tried to tie Oliver back to the Poor Orphan Boy he was when he'd first been adopted. By the time you both get to Oxford, he's been your brother for so long that it's like the world has thankfully forgotten that it's not by blood.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver ln au #head heart hand fic #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #it shouts back

[msviolacea]

why you should play elder scrolls online in 2023

Okay, I've been considering making posts about "why to play X game I love" but finally decided "what the hell, no time like the present." And since ESO is on my mind today, it gets first dibs!

What is ESO??

It's an MMO set in the Elder Scrolls universe - think Skyrim, Oblivion, Morrowind, etc. It's the Elder Scrolls theme park in the same way that FFXIV is the Final Fantasy theme park. But, in the same way, it's not exclusively for people who have experience with the previous games - it's a fun, immersive fantasy world whether you know anything about previous lore or not.

You should play ESO if ...

You like immersive fantasy worldbuilding. Listen, if there's one thing the Elder Scrolls team can do, it's worldbuild like motherfuckers. Do you want a story that reaches back thousands of years and covers dozens of countries/empires/territories, where you can find lorebooks around every corner, and expansive essays on the internet about the briefest of details? ESO has you covered.

You love overland exploration. This is ESO's bread and butter. The explorable areas are expansive and varied and absolutely gorgeous, and the game is built for the player who just wants to travel and collect things and see the sights. Tamriel has pretty much every biome you can imagine - you want medieval Britain? Head for High Isle! You want an Arabic-style desert? Alik'r Desert is your place! Rugged arctic landscape? Listen, there are FOUR SEPARATE Skyrim areas for you. You're like "I just want weird fantasy things that don't look like anywhere on earth?" Vvardenfell and its surrounding areas have you covered. You can explore as you play the story, you can go on a hunt for the perfect screenshot location, you can find an RP location that fits your character exactly, you can make it your goal to complete every exploration achievement in the game ... you can do it all.

You want a game where exploration isn't gated behind your level. ESO made the switch to what they call "One Tamriel" fairly early in their development cycle - this means that all mobs and quests are synced to your level in the overworld, and you can start or go anywhere you want no matter how low level you are. You can play through the storyline in release order, or you can say "I want to start in the newest expansion," or you can go "listen I'm only here for vampires in Western Skyrim," all of these are valid and possible ways of playing. You don't have to go "man the new expansion looks great but I have to put in HOW many hours to get there??" It's all available to you from level 1!

You love decorating houses. Listen, if there is one thing ESO does better than any other MMO (at least the ones I've played), it's the housing system. You can own ALL THE HOUSES. SO MANY HOUSES. Small and large and every conceivable style! You can buy land with no house on it, and build your own structures! You can decorate without having to learn how to glitch or press six buttons at once! And housing feeds very well into the rest of the gameplay - you earn furnishing plans from pretty much every conceivable gameplay system, so it becomes an excellent reason to go do your daily stuff and explore. And the housing community in ESO is one of the most creative groups I've ever seen, I could watch their YouTube videos and streams forever.

You like MMOs that allow you to play mostly solo. None of the story progression is gated behind the need to group up. There is plenty of group content, but it's all optional. There are bosses across the landscape and in public dungeons that require multiple people to kill, but you'll always come across people who want to help kill them without having to group up. And with the last few expansions, you now have companions - NPCs you can unlock and have follow you around everywhere. They can be set and geared to perform any role - tank, healer, DPS - and the AI is good enough at any of those to get you through pretty much anything overland you want to do. (And as a side note, some of the companion quests are really good, and they've been getting really, really good voice actors for the companions themselves - see: Laura Bailey, Brandon Keener - and they have fun dialogue as you wander.)

A couple of caveats:

If you play for story, your mileage will vary. Don't get me wrong, ESO has some very, very good stories within it! But it's not a linear story a la FFXIV or single player MMOs - it has a main storyline for the base game zones, and each DLC/expansion has its own storyline that sometimes connects into what happened in the base game, but for the most part ESO's story is a fragmented experience, and you have to go searching for the stories that connect most with you. Can you find them? Yes, but be ready to put in the time to look. (My personal recommendations? The vampire story that starts in Rivenspire and continues in Western Skyrim and The Reach is my absolute favorite; Elsweyr is also very good, but is more of a direct continuation of the base game story than anything else, so would probably need that context going in. A good portion of the fanbase will cite the larger Morrowind-Summerset storyline as the best the game has, and it's very good, but didn't quite stick with me as much as the others mentioned.) ESO tends to be more about the story of the world at large than about the stories of individual characters.

And speaking of story, the game is absolute balls at directing you to places where starting the story would make the most sense. If you want to experience the story in a vaguely linear fashion, here's what to do when you create a character - immediately head to whatever city is your chosen faction's starting city (Daggerfall, Auridon, or Stonefalls), and wander around until you trigger the "Soul Shriven in Coldharbor" quest. That starts the base game main story, and is the best place to start as a brand new player. The other tip: the fancy striped quest markers are indicative of the "main" story quest in each zone, do those when at all possible.

And speaking of factions, those only matter if you want to play PvP - and only Cyrodiil and Imperial City PvP at that. Otherwise, it's just flavor these days.

In conclusion:

ESO is my comfort "explore and collect" game - I find it very chill to just wander around, level new characters, dig up antiquities (ANTIQUITIES, my favorite side system, seriously I could look for leads and dig things up forever), collect materials to sell in my guild trader, and vaguely achievement hunt while listening to music or YouTube. The scenery is beautiful, the character creation is robust and turns out very cool looking characters, and the combat system is simple enough that I easily remember how to do things even if I've been away for a little while. And it is free-to-play, after buying the game; you don't need a subscription to access anything you've purchased, you just miss out on a few good quality of life features. (The craft bag, I could not live without my craft bag, seriously.)

Some version of ESO will be free on the Epic Game store starting tomorrow - my assumption is that it will be the version that contains all DLC/expansions except the Necrom chapter, which was just released last month. I highly recommend picking it up if you play on PC, just to check it out, if anything above sounds appealing to you! (And if you want to splurge, I can very highly recommend Necrom - the new class it introduces is maybe my favorite class to play yet, the two companions it introduces are fantastic, and Apocrypha is a fascinating area to explore if you like creepy eldritch horror type stuff.)

If you want to know more about ESO, just give me a shout! And if you're a mutual who decides to try it, hit me up, I have many gifts to give people!

#elder scrolls online #eso #i felt like pimping it out this morning #just because

[erodasfishtacos]

Okay but imagine mlbrry completely oblivious to the fact that YN wants to jump his bones. Inspired by these shorts and my mind running when I saw them.

-

The three boys were at Anne’s for the weekend, she had wanted to take them to some sort of summer fesitival near her house.

It gave Harry, YN, and Briar some time to themselves for two whole days - their daughter just around nine months at this point.

The thing is…Harry isn’t even trying to do it on purpose like he sometimes does - he’s not even trying to be sexy.

But as he does domestic things around the house like fold laundry, fix a loose shelf in the pantry, and assemble a new big boy bed for Ezra - YN can’t focus on anything.

He’s in these shorts, the tiniest pair of shorts to exist that don’t even cover an inch of his tiger tattoo, they’re that short.

It’s not a secret that Harry is well endowed and so the bulge is something that’s hard to miss when he is in certain positions.

When he asks her to bring him a screwdriver while he’s laying underneath the frame of the bed - stomach going in and out as he breathes steadily, which makes his six pack literally twitch.

YN’s body automatically responds, feeling herself get wetter as she watches his biceps flex and the hard cut of his muscles as he moves around - he’s in such good fucking shape, he looks like Adonis.

She has to get distracted by something or she was going to lose her mind, giving one last glance over the light dusting of hair that leads from his bellybutton into his shorts .

It doesn’t help that it had been such a busy week with his games and the kids that they hadn’t gotten any time to themselves.

YN decides to step away, letting Briar hang out with her father, to the kitchen to organize the pantry, check to make sure nothing has expired but it doesn’t last long because then she sees a sight that no doubtly speaks to her.

Harry padding through the kitchen with a sleepy baby on his hip, he’s giving the baby little kisses all over her face to make Briar belly laugh.

It’s just…he is such a good dad and those are her babies, he gave her them, and it’s something instinctual, primal that’s makes her flush at the sight.

“I think s’about nap time for her. Do you want to try to feed her first or should I give her a bottle?” Harry asks, bouncing the now grumbling baby as she smacks her lips hungrily.

“I’ll feed her,” YN replies easily, stepping over to one of the kitchen stools and sitting down - literal goosebumps start to decorate her skin when her husband’s hand brushes her breast when he’s helping pull up her shirt.

Once again, he was oblivious to how on edge YN was as he hands over Briar before trailing over the fridge to grab a protein shake.

YN watches him as he takes a swig, neck elongated and Adam’s apple bobbing - his other hand absentmindedly scratching at his stomach - making his shorts dip for a half a minute.

God, what was wrong with her.

She’s been with this man for years, literally has him trying to get in her pants at least once on a slow day and right now, she drooling like a teenager.

Harry just makes it worse, not even on purpose, by this point he’s eating an apple and asks casually after he chews, “How bad does this bruise look? He had to hit me at least 75 miles per hour. I’m glad he got fined.”

Then he’s pushing down the side of his shorts to reveal where his hip and thigh meet, there’s a gnarly purpling bruise that takes almost of his side.

YN is more focused on the sculpted curve of his bum, the flash of his pubic bone where she can she his neatly trimmed hair, knowing it get thicker the close it gets to the base of his…

“Mama?” Harry shakes her from her daydream with a frown, “Are you tired? Want to go nap for a little bit, baby?”

Oblivious.

“No, I’m good. Sorry,” YN mumbles, her fingers dancing across Briar’s baby-soft locks as she finishes up her meal, “Yeah, that bruise does like rough still.”

Harry gives her a weird side glance before shrugging and tossing away the apple before coming to collect Briar to burp her and put her down for nap in her nursery.

“Why don’t you go lay down. I could go for a nap, want you t’join me. I’ll meet you in our room, ‘kay?” He murmurs, giving her a kiss before heading towards the stairs.

“Sounds good, thank you,” YN sighs as she tugs her top back down and finishes a few more dishes before going up to their room.

As she enters the room, it’s nearly impossible to ignore the ache between her thighs especially because the room is drenched in his warm, dark cologne scent that sticks to their sheets in the most delicious way.

YN doesn’t know why but this shorts have just made her feral today and they actually have time as Briar’s naps have been at least two to three hours.

She doesn’t look the tiniest bit sexy right now but she knows her husband could care less because he’s wanted her when she’s looked way worse - hell, he watched four babies come out of her.

It’s only a few minutes before Harry is stepping into the room, his shoulder a bit red where YN assumes Briar has been trying out her new baby tooth on her father’s skin.

YN’s sitting on the edge of the bed and her husband trails right up in front of her, about to say something sweet and encourage her budge up so they can cuddle as they sleep.

Instead, her fingers go straight to the waistband of his shorts, and her mouth goes the little strip of hair near his belly button to start smattering kisses as she begins to pull them down.

Harry’s stomach sucks in, ribs popping against his skin for a moment, as he moans a bit too loudly in surprise whenhe’s revealed - soft but still thick and big but already plumping up for his wife.

“Baby, are you-“ He tries to choke out but YN is wrapping her lips around his length and bringing him to full hardness in her mouth, “Fuckin’ hell, you’re so fucking sexy.”

Harry’s hands weave into her messy hair, chin tilted down as he watches her work on him - sloppy and wet just like he loves it.

Her hands gripping the pudge at his hips that despite how lean he is, has never disappeared and bringing him until the crown of his cock hits the back of her throat.

He gently but firmly holds her hair, keeping her head steady as he begins to shallowly buck his hips forward to use her mouth.

His words that follow are filthy.

“Look at those lips, meant to have m’cock in between them, yeah?”

“Sucha a desperate girl, give it to you all the time and it’s still not enough for you, hm? Must fuck you that good.”

“Can’t even ask, you’re so horny, you turn into a greedy slut but it’s just for your husband, right?”

“Already know this is your cock to take, right sweetheart? Don’t ever have to ask.”

He smelled so good, his skin a mixture of clean soap and sandalwood, her nose nestle in those curls she lusted after earlier when she took him all the way down.

“S’good, sweetheart. You know it’s yours to take, this cock is yours baby - know s’yours, can have it whenever you want,” He babbles with a deep, aroused rasp as his hips start to become a bit more erratic.

However, he gets a little too carried away and forgets how big he is - when he fucks in a little too much and cause YN to sputter and push at his hips to catch her breath, eyes watering instantly.

“Sorry, m’sorry,” Harry coos lovingly, becoming a bit more aware and out of his lust filled state as she coughs, thumbing the spit off her lips and leaning down to kiss her swollen ones, “Let me make it up to you, mama.”

With that, he’s pushing her onto her back and bringing her bum to the very edge of the bed as he takes off her bottoms to reveal where she’s sticky and drenched.

“Jesus Christ,” He huffs in disbelief, dragging his thumb through her folds before popping it into his mouth, “How the fuck did I land you, huh?”

Harry wastes no more time in tugging her legs up around his waist to prevent her from falling with her still on her back and slides right it to pure heaven.

“Yes, fuck,” YN mewls happily when he fucks in until their hips are nestled together before he’s pulling fully out and thrusting right back in, in a harsh rhythm.

He’s not going to last long after having her mouth on him and he has to get her there too, his thumb tucking back between her folds and rubbing at her clit with firm, direct circles - relentlessly and perfect.

“C’mon, need you to come,” Harry grits out, feeling his release building at the base of his spine, speeding up his ministrations on her bud as he pounds in her with abandon.

“S’coming,” YN moans with her eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm wracks through her body, back arching and hips moving with his.

“Good girl, give it to me so fuckin’ well,” He growls as his movements become erratic and uncoordinated, “You’re gonna make me come. How’s your cunt this perfect?”

And when they’re coming down, Harry pulls out and flops right on top of her with his full weight, sprinkling kisses all over her face.

“What brought that on? Not that I’d ever complain,” Harry ask curiously, pecking at her lips and nuzzling into her.

“Those shorts,” YN giggles because that was really it at the end of the day.

“My shorts? Just showing a little bit of leg gets your pussy soaked?” Harry hums crudely, his fingers dripping down to tuck back up into for round two.

—

It’s fair to say Harry buys multiple more pairs of those shorts and wears them any chance he gets in front of his wife.

-

🥵

#mlb!verse #mlbrry #mlb!harry blurbs #mlb!harry masterlist #mlb!harry #mlb harry #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles writing request

[inexplicablymine]

2023 Writing Roundup

Thank you to @welcometololaland @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @three-drink-amy and @rmd-writes @orchidscript for the tags, it was a fruitful year for my first toe dip into fanfic ~ and it will end with quite the bang as well (hence why I’m putting off my 2023 fic wrapped until at least January 1st).

July

No Sense or Sensibility (RWRB, T, 5K)

How to win the newlywed game with your best friend with whom you are not even dating (yet)

Uncut Not Uncultured (RWRB, E, 6K)

Alex never thought about if Henry was uncut down there… but now it’s all he can think about

August

The month in which I disappeared from all internet for three weeks to enjoy one of my other loves in this life with no service!

September

- Mr BodyPillow (RWRB, T, 21K)

The adventures of Ace Alex finding love, cuddles, and assurance from Henry

October

- They Were Tentmates! (RWRB, M, 4K)

What happens when you are forced to share a tent (and a sleeping bag) with your nemesis

- Because I’m a Scoundrel (RWRB, E, 8K)

Olympic athletes! TIME Gala at the White House! Mistaken couples costumes!

November

- Mr Party Hardy (RWRB, T, 7K)

A Mr. BodyPillow follow up exploring Alex’s relationships with parties pre and post Henry

- Minty Fresh (RWRB, G, 2K)

An illustrated story of their relationship to proposal one gum wrapper at a time

- No Nut November (RWRB, E, 10K)

Can the boys survive No Nut November? Not without a lot of innuendos that’s for sure.

December

- No Laughing Matter (RWRB, T, 3K)

Alex is the dental hygienist who helps with Henry’s Wisdom Teeth removal. It’s just as funny as you imagine.

To be posted before the end of the year :)

Super Six and the Sirens Call (RWRB, T, 111K, 20th)

Camp Halfblood meet the Super Six, a quest of the likes you have never seen before

Not So Silent Night (RWRB, E, TBD, 21st)

Alex is sick and tired of his piano playing neighbor, but what happens when they get stuck in an apartment together on the longest night of the year?

Messiah (RWRB, M, TBD, 25th)

Two boys, two instruments, two churches. Midnight mass and a very religious experience between the two of them

Fifteen Hours Till Forever (RWRB, M, TBD, 25th)

A firstprince canon compliant wedding weekend

Balls to the Wall (RWRB, T, TBD, 26th)

The story of how Alex spent a night in college in the drunk tank… even though he was never drunk

Glitter Bomb (RWRB, E, TBD, 27th)

Alex comes wrapped in a bow for Henry… and in some glitter

Where Is My SuperSuit (RWRB, M, TBD, 28th)

A four way love square between two super powered idiots

3/4th Cup of Love (RWRB, E, TBD, 29th)

What really happened in the kitchen when Alex taught Henry how to make those quiches

Sleeping Beauties (RWRB, M, TBD, 30th)

Alex and Henry attend the 2024 Met Gala as the muses of world class designer Pez Okonjo

Halfway There (RWRB, T, TBD, 31st)

Canon compliant demiromantic Alex realization contemplation and conversation

So much still happening!!! Will end the year with a whopping 19 fics and over 100K words shared. Spectacular.

An open tag but also tagging some lovely people to share what a year they have had!!

@adinarj @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @alasse9 @clottedcreamfudge @celaestis1 @cheesecurdsgravyandfries @celeritas2997 @cultofsappho @dumbpeachjuice @daisymae-12 @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hillerskas @heybuddy-drabbles @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @jackwolfes @kill8a @lem0nademouth @littlemisskittentoes @nontoxic-writes @pirates-against-heterosexuality @roseapothecary @rockyroadkylers @read-and-write- @smc-27 @saintlynomenclature @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @thinkof-england @vonpeepsisback @wordsofhoneydew @xthelastknownsurvivorx @zwiazdziarka

#2023 writing round up #inexplicablymine writes #< many things apparently #all of these are RWRB #also wow did that in less than 6 months okay okay okay

[pretty-idol-hell]

Okay, so, here is my PriMagi debut story!!

I arrived at Prism Stone Tokyo more or less straight off the plane, a full day of travel and less than three hours sleep, a complete disaster lugging a big suitcase behind me. It was literally my first stop when I got off the train from Narita (well, after the conbini for a pizza bun).

Upon seeing someone on the PriMagi machine, I decided to get in line for PriPara instead. I hoped the PriMagi machine might be free by the time I was done and I was right! Yes! I really didn't want anyone lined up behind me while I was fumbling through it.

.........

As soon as I put the coins in a new person immediately lined up behind me (godammit).

It was basically an exact repeat of what happened to me during my PriPara debut!!! (Someone breathing down my neck as I clearly have noooo idea what I am doing. I mean... Took almost the full countdown to realize ITS A F*ING TOUCH SCREEN. Uuughgh.)

Also, first version Luna has pink highlights (as seen in the video) because I didn't know how to change it then.

Still, although embarrassing (I didn't even know how to scan the cards....) I guess it was kinda cool to debut at Tokyo Station Prism Stone! (Also reminiscent of my PriChan debut, which was at Prism Stone Nagoya.)

So after this, I checked into my hotel, showered and all that, and went out to find an arcade with more machines so I could work things out. And I did! A Taito station with like six or eight machines AND a recorder!!?! So I sat down, put in my money and realized.... I left my profile card back at the hotel....

So, I decided I would just play one game with Auru and then move on. But then this came out of the machine.

Naturally I wanted my character to wear it immediately.

I thought about just making another one but... in the end, I decided no. NO. You are not abandonding initial PriMagi Luna! She debuted at Tokyo Station Prism Stone!

So, I went all the way back to the hotel, all the way back to the arcade, fixed my highlights, learned how to scan cards...

And slowly began to work out the other mechanics of the game.

I also learned that this game gives out URs like candy haha ha... (maybe because it's ending?)

So, first impressions.

I definitely don't like that it costs 200 yen. (All the previous games cost 100.)

But, after playing it's kinda understandable?

I mean just LOOK at these cards. These are actual printed cards from the machine!? How does that work. It's like... ma... magic... (you got me there).

PriMagi also feels like a more umm immersive experience than the previous games? It's LONG. There are a lot of scenes you can skip past, but if you actually watch all of them I feel like it takes at least twice as long as an average game of PriPara.

The rhythm game is kinda random and doesn't flow nearly as well as the previous games. Touch this, now touch that, now touch this. Also, I keep forgetting to select the harder difficulty and the easier one is super boring. Also, I can't figure out the PriMagi equivalent of Cyalume Change (like I mean the button mashing)... my PriPara/PriChan technique hurts my knuckles on the diamond buttons, and my Idol Land technique on the screen is no good either.

And shopping for coords right in the middle of the song? Yeah. HATE IT. I can't imagine ever getting used to that. Even my friend who knows nothing about Pretty Series who was watching over my shoulder was like WTF it's forcing you to pay more? And I was like..... not exactly forcing me...... but............

But.

But the colors, the sounds, the characters. It's all very intoxicating and just designed to draw you in... for some reason 100 yen coins just keep falling out of my pockets... and into this game....

#Youtube #waccha primagi #primagi arcade

[wandringaesthetic]

Once again I must speak of humanity's highest art form, the Japanese Role-Playing Game

So Tales of Berseria ate my free time in a way that it's been a while since a video game did. I just beat it.

I'll get the easy stuff to talk about out of the way first.

Regarding gameplay. I played it on "normal." I should have played it on a higher difficulty, and you should too unless you are just remarkably bad at action RPGs. Starting from about the halfway point I got good enough at chaining combos together with Velvet that the difficulty became trivial. I ignored whole mechanics. I hardly ever bothered switching out characters.

Battles are the thing I like least about the Tales games I've played previously. They mostly translate the "action" part of "Action Role-Playing Game" as "pressing a lot of buttons" in a way that doesn't reward strategy OR skill very much. Berseria isn't an exception here. That said, there's probably a little more to it on a higher difficulty, and it feels a lot more "fair" than its direct predecessor (Tales of Zestiria) did, in that it does reward attacking enemy weaknesses and enemy attacks rarely feel totally unavoidable. The bell-like sound when you successfully KO, stun, etc an enemy and the combo counter going way up in the 50s does feel kinda satisfying in the way I imagine the lights and bells on a slot machine feel satisfying.

Overall visual presentation is uneven. In some ways, it feels like a game of an earlier generation. Like "we are doing as much as we can with these three tile sets, give us a break, let your imagination do some of the work." A few areas, windswept green hillsides and hazy, blooming marshes, are legit beautiful. Dungeons generally feel a little sparse. Towns are bright primary colors vaguely european anime world. Given that the world is being alternately overrun by daemons or under the iron grip of its government and church, the generally bright and sunny aesthetics feel a little discordant and I feel like this story could have benefited from the world backing up its themes and vibes a little better. Don't even necessarily veer away from the anime aesthetics much, just do something with the lighting. One of the moments where the aesthetic best backs up the plot and themes, IMO, comes late in the game. Your heroes are in an abandoned, far northern town. The sun is setting and there's a red glare on the snow....

SO ANYWAY NONE OF THAT IS WHY I WANT TO TALK ABOUT TALES OF BERSERIA.

From one point of view, this is a revenge story. From another point of view, this is a classic JRPG , you're awaking the elemental lords and preventing an ascent to godhood. From another point of view, you are the villain of the piece, on a mission to kill the guy who actually really did save the world, fucking up everything and everyone on your way. You consort with daemons, witches, pirates, and traitors. You eat people.

What is called reason... isn't. What is called selfishness... isn't. The people who are yelling about their feelings are maybe the most reasonable ones and the ones keeping it locked up are absolutely bridled by their emotions. What is luck? What is one's nature? What is free will?

(Why do birds fly?)

The writing, in terms of themes and motifs and meaningful echoes and variations on themes is really, really special. (At least if one understands that this IS a JRPG and this IS an anime and we ARE going to yell about our ideals.) Also the character dialogue (and there is so much dialogue, just SO MUCH both meaningful and unmeaningful this is also a feature of this series hope you enjoy listening to your six new wacky, grimdark anime friends for the next 60 hours) is very good.

Combs, apples, hair, swords, coins, flowers, compasses. Illness, grief, death, loyalty, faith, despair, perfection, children, hunger.

Maybe I'll walk this back when I'm not high on this game's fumes, but as a scholar of JRPGs, I think this is one of the top two or three best WRITTEN of them out there. I feel like I'd have to play it two or three more times to really highlight why, there is so much going on here. Like, if you accept that it is highly, highly character driven and the world's a little underbaked.

Anyway. Good and evil, order and chaos, darkness and light, reason and emotion, all that's illusions and if you must insist on dividing them, if they're not in an ourobourus yin yang, eating each other, keeping each other in check, shit gets fucked real quick.

#this is also the thesis (one of the theses) of the million hours of FFXIV commentary that exist in my brain that I may never get out #tales of berseria

[paellegere]

final thoughts: supernatural season 15

holy shit. i did it. i finished supernatural. i actually finished it a couple hours ago but i'm still having trouble processing it. i've been working at this for six months (but with a one-month break back in december) and i'm finally finished. honestly i don't think i really believed i would do it because shit this show is long, and i am not predisposed to enjoy shows like this. so this is a huge mark of pride for me, that i can finally say i did indeed sit down and watch all 327 episodes of supernatural :)

anyway all that to say i hated this season with a passion lmao, hasta la vista baby ✨

honestly i think i'll end up keeping this short because frankly most of my criticisms boil down to

how did you fuck up your own lore this badly

holy plotholes batman

this is so disrespectful and irreverent toward kripke's supernatural

nothing about this writing makes any kind of sense

well, that's convenient (in the most boring way imaginable)

so it's basically just a game of spin the wheel and see what it lands on.

the season started super weak; the concept was bad from the get-go and executed only to a mediocre standard, so i couldn't help but cringe my way through it. rowena's death was really well done, but her character was never well developed, in the same way most side characters on this show are never well developed, so while i appreciate the care that went into that scene it felt rather empty. it made me regret how poorly and inconsistently written she was. and yeah most side characters get this treatment—hell, cas gets this treatment which is why i don't care about him much—but she had such a provocative death scene that it had me lamenting that she didn't get a better foundation and better development. alas, that's just what it means to be someone other than sam and dean on supernatural.

after that was... the eileen subplot. i do really like eileen despite her being a rather flat and uninteresting character the way most women are on this show (y'know, kickass independent "girl power" women without nearly any other significant personality trait), but i really didn't appreciate the substantial pivot sam took from dean-focused to eileen-focused in this season. yes, season 12-14 did go to great efforts to make sure this wasn't The Sam And Dean Show anymore, but season 15 is so dramatically incongruous from even 12-14 that it just boggled my mind. the sam/eileen stuff was a major part of that, and it just didn't feel good because it was one more nail in the coffin with regards to how little the showrunners respected the foundation of the show (y'know, "the epic love story of sam and dean"). the only real salmondean moment in the entire season was the 7-minute incest speech in the finale—like what? i couldn't even properly enjoy that because of how poorly it was set up, thanks to the four seasons of retconning their relationship and making it less important to the series overall.

anyway all that to say, they had this massive sam/eileen subplot and then nothing even came of it. sam didn't even call to check if she was alive after jack resurrected everyone? he didn't meet up with her on screen even once? like if you're going to give him this season-long romance with someone other than dean, you could at least have the balls to commit to it. i find that just. godawful writing. eileen didn't have to be sam's blurry wife or anything, but he should have had some kind of resolution, literally anything at all, if we're meant to believe she's in any way important to him. c'mon.

more incongruous moments: dean got weirdly angry in this season. like what's with episode 17 man? there is nothing about dean in that episode that feels even remotely in character. from "jack's not family" to dean pulling a gun on sam, it all felt wildly overblown, way too melodramatic and sudden, and just not anything dean would do. yeah he's an angry guy, but???? this was too much, even for him. and the whole jack argument between sam and dean made me roll my eyes hard. because how do you expect me to believe that after all of the developments up to that point, that

dean wouldn't consider jack family. first of all that's stupid, dean drops the f-bomb on literally anyone he thinks is useful to further his goals. second of all it contradicts the bond they've formed since season 13, and it no longer fits with the parallel themes set up between sam, dean, and jack. it undermines what's been established, what's been developed, and what jack means to them on a thematic level. so so so stupid. cannot stress how dumb this move was. it just felt like the writers pulling out yet another OOC moment just so they can conveniently move the plot in the direction they wanted. so annoying.

sam and cas are equals in dean's eyes. like that's just hilarious to me. the last time cas died dean got sad for a little bit and burned his body on a pyre. the last time sam died dean committed suicide. these are not equal reactions. and sam and cas have never been equal to dean because dean always chooses sam over everyone, again evidenced in the series finale. so it was just hilarious for this one episode to pretend like sam and cas could ever be equal.

of course season 15 did really push a destiel agenda in the most unexpected and bizarre way. like wow, and i thought seasons 12-14 were a totally different show. no, season 15 is so much worse than that. i have absolutely no idea why they made the choices they did with this season, but they were not good, they routinely disrespected kripke's foundations of the show, and they ignored every theme ever laid out up until then. all for... what, exactly? so dean and cas can have a weird little non-romance together for 18 episodes only for them to slip wincest back in at the end? what's up with that? no like seriously, what were they trying to do here????

i told my friend this earlier, but i do think it's funny how cas's death speech is just straight-up factually incorrect regarding dean. i'm 100% fully willing to believe that castiel was blinded with lust by dean winchester that he simply made up some guy in his head who looked like dean. and that will be my headcanon going forth because wow it's shocking and funny as hell how much he got wrong while waxing poetic about dean. "you're the most selfless man i know" when kripke spent 5 seasons pounding it into our heads how fundamentally selfish dean (and sam, obviously, but the speech is about dean) is. girl what are you saying. dick so good he rewrote dean's basic character traits to be more convenient to him. i respect it truly i do.

anyway the finale. i hated it! to absolutely no one's surprise. a few days ago i wrote out what i thought would have been the most thematically cogent endings for supernatural. i knew what actually happens, obviously (hard to miss tbh), but my resolve on this front was only strengthened by actually watching it. yes the 7 minutes of incest were very nice and compelling, but... wow. this episode has some of the worst pacing i've ever seen in my life. dean died halfway into the episode? and the rest of that was... a sequence of short scenes that are too drawn-out to be a montage??? like there was no tension, no buildup, and no setup for what they did. it felt so lazy and underdeveloped, lacking any kind of poignancy or thematic cohesion. and then i had to watch TWENTY MINUTES of half-baked scenes of dean in heaven and sam growing old. i wouldn't have hated this ending so much if they had better pacing, i'm serious. like the outrage i feel is predominantly because of how badly it was written. the concepts aren't good, but they were par for the course. but TWENTY MINUTES OF MONTAGE. A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH WITH NO EMOTIONAL BUILDUP, WHICH ACTIVELY CONTRADICTS THE THEMES OF THE SHOW. WHAT!!!!!!! WERE THEY THINKING!!!!!!!!!!

anyway i disliked that a little bit.

so overall i pretty much hated every part of this season and there were very, very, very few redeeming features sprinkled in. it's fine though! i'm fine. it's all over now :)

a few brief thoughts on the series overall: i regret ever speaking badly of kripke's supernatural; i didn't know how good i had it until it was gone. in hindsight, a lot of the seasons i thought were dogshit were actually not the worst things ever—i just didn't realize how bad bad could get. i know now. i will carry that knowledge with me forever.

dramatics aside, i honestly did enjoy watching the show. as much as i hated so many of the writing choices, the plotholes, the retcons, the way the writers just handwaved away anything inconvenient and rewrote characters entirely just to force them into the story they way they wanted them—it was still, like, fun. the agony was enjoyable (things masochists say). i think it helps that the fandom at large generally agrees that the writing is bad; it gives a sense of community and solidarity in the misery. there's no uneasy disconnect between myself and the rest of the fanbase, and that honestly does make all the difference. it's fun to suffer together, and i don't regret watching this show one bit :)

so with that said, here's my final ranking for every season:

season 1 (thematically strong, tight writing, incredible vision, truly foundational in its establishment of overarching themes, tone, and genre)

season 2 (such an interesting plot which builds on what was established in season 1. this is where the meat of the show is, where the heart is exposed to daylight as the chest is ripped open)

season 3 (well written, though disappointing in some areas largely due to kripke dropping the special children plot thus leaving a hole. not very noticeable due to the good writing, but still there. i'll never forgive them for killing off henricksen)

season 4 (this is the first real drop in quality imo, but it's relatively insignificant. the writing feels more meandering, and the tone shifts rather drastically away from the horror of its origin. the introduction of angels destroys a lot of the religious anxiety that formed the foundation of the show, but at the same time introduces a fantastic story about fate and doom)

season 5 (same as season 4, but with the flaws a bit more glaring. castiel's unclear motivations and underdeveloped shift in perspective are a major point of contention for me; i don't think it was handled well and could have been written better to make him a stronger character from the get-go, possibly allowing him to be a better character in later seasons instead of the conflicting mess we ended up with)

season 9 (the writing is atrocious, but the vision is so good. i still don't know how they managed that. they had such a great idea and they took kripke's supernatural and expanded on it in such a satisfying way. it drove me crazy! but holy shit the actual writing is so bad)

season 8 (i feel largely the same about 8 as i do 9, but i just think the writing was overall worse. it does get brownie points for having benny in it, though)

season 10 (boring. boring and paced so, so, so badly. the sole redeeming feature was how committed it was to its vision. it has the exact opposite problem as season 6 in that it has too little content to fill out the season. but god, the vision. you'll hear me waxing poetic about the season 8-10 vision on my death bed)

season 7 (it did a lot to pave the road for seasons 8-10 which i can't ignore. it also got itself fairly settled after the mess season 6 was and didn't try to bite off more than it could chew. i didn't love it, but it had a lot of moments that were provocative and interesting, and it provided pretty good setup for season 8. the writing was not good, but i think that goes without saying)

season 6 (introduced really interesting ideas, but tried to cram so much into one season that it failed to deliver satisfying payoffs for any of its setup. soulless sam was an interesting exception and really redeemed it for me)

season 12 (12 and 13 are about equal for me because i hate the plots, i hate the intense diversion away from The Sam And Dean Show, i hate the writing, i hate the concepts, etc etc. but they both introduce supporting characters which show off new and interesting sides to sam and dean: mary in 12 and jack in 13. it allows for focus to stay on sam and dean's relationship a little longer even though they're no longer generating any organic conflict between them, so i appreciate that at least)

season 13 (i fucking HATE the apocalypse world. that is my deciding factor between seasons 12 and 13. also i hate what they did to mary here)

season 14 (honestly an inoffensive season. i still hate the writing way more than anything else pre-12, and it doesn't have the benefits of a new character introduced to provide external conflict between sam and dean, so while it was relatively inoffensive it was also boring, lacking, and really obvious how little the writers cared about maintaining sam and dean's relationship as the emotional core of the show)

season 11 (the writing all things considered wasn't the absolute worst thing i've ever seen, if i'm being fair. on the other hand, i hated everything about this season conceptually, and i hate that it vouched for christianity as the ~one true religion~ which again undermines kripke's original series. this is me being petty and i'm okay with that)

season 15 (see above. oh but i'm honestly surprised it managed to surpass my ire toward season 11. like honestly it's impressive because i hold a massive grudge toward 11 which should have been insurmountable. a feat has certainly been achieved here!)

anyway. i said this wasn't going to be long but then i just kept on writing and writing. because that's what i do. i never learn 😔 i'll end it here then. i intend to go back and rewatch seasons 1-5 now that i'm finally finished, so i'm looking forward to that. i want to see if my rose-tinted glasses that i've been looking at kripke era with are based on reality or simply a longing to return to less terrible times :P

#liveblogging: supernatural #oh my god o h my god <3 #i did indeed rank every season from 1 to 15 in here. for funsies #spn reviews #.txt

[mikhailwrites]

Waiting for Connection 4 / Ghost x Soap NerdAU

Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...

Previous chapter | AO3

Soap seems to be a busy man, only playing for an hour or two in the evening a couple of days a week if he’s lucky. Sometimes, he doesn’t play for a week. Or two. Ghost understands, of course. He knows how it is, which doesn’t mean he’s not feeling a little sorry every time he starts Steam, looks at his very short Friendslist and sees CallMeSoap in the “Offline” section of it.

Truth be told, it took one week for Ghost to get used to Soap; to finetune his own playstyle to Soap’s, to count on him having his six or be wherever Ghost needs him to be. To do a good job. Even though they are still playing with random people, the two of them usually carry the brunt of the mission due to their sheer efficiency, teamwork and skill.

On days Ghost plays without Soap, he notices the skill gap even more than before. And has even less patience for it, too. Until, one evening, he actually argues full-on with his teammates. Ghost is not petty or anything; he just… wants a taste of his old life, not to educate sixteen-year-old airsoft enthusiasts on the importance of clear and concise communication. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sixteen-year-old airsoft enthusiast. Ghost simply has no patience for it.

After a few very not-fun games, he decides to give it a rest and only plays solo. Unfortunately, there is a reason why he started with multiplayer in the first place. The only advantage of AI teammates is that they’re not as chaotic. However, they are as daft as they come.

Ghost quits the game after the third death that evening. However, he pauses over the Quit the game button. Instead, Ghost shifts his hand, and the cursor selects “Editor”. Despite all the hours spent in the game, he’s never tried to create his own scenario. Who would he play it with, anyway?

Only now, he actually has a mate to play with. He could prepare something interesting for when Soap gets back from whatever hellhole he is currently deployed to. If there’s something Ghost has an abundance of, it’s combat experience, particularly in special operations.

Ghost smiles as the mission editor opens. Oh, he’s going to enjoy this.

“I’ve created some custom missions for two players; wanna try it out?” Ghost says, trying to sound like he didn’t spend about twenty hours recreating one of his oldest missions. There are enough changes to allow for plausible deniability, but it’s been about twenty years. He can’t imagine anybody giving a shit now.

“What kind of question is that? Bring it on, old man!” Soap exclaims, clearly excited. Ghost doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s been called old. It’s a provocation to get him to admit how old he really is, and Simon is not falling for it.

“Eager, Soap?” Ghost smirks. “Equip some explosives with remotes and an SMG with a silencer.”

“We going dark, Ghost? And in close quarters? Oh, I like it already,” Soap’s voice gains a darker, grittier quality.

“Let’s see how good you really are,” Simon smiles, watching as the game drops their avatars to an unknown terrain in the middle of the night -unknown to Soap, at least. They’re in a small clearing in the middle of a dense tropical forest.

“Five Ks away is a small settlement. A local drug cartel has a heavy presence in the village. Our target is a VIP hostage.”

“So we will need a diversion,” Soap notes, and Ghost can only imagine the devious grin on his face. Face he’s never seen. Soap sounds like someone who is open about their emotions. He has no issue laughing, and when he’s pissed, his voice drops and gains a gravelly quality to it that Ghost admits he rather likes. “What will be your job?”

“I’ll be covering you from a distance,” Ghost says as he equips his favourite sniper rifle. There’s a pistol in his thigh holster, too, just in case.

Soap’s avatar lowers their night vision. “You know, I have yet to meet someone in this game who is a decent sniper. People think it’s so bloody easy, just lay in the grass, scope and shoot,” Soap complains.

“I’d be very careful about what you want to imply. Soap, wouldn’t want any friendly fire happening, would we?” Ghost smirks, clicking the magazine back into the rifle.

“Absolutely not, sir.”

Watching Soap work through the scope of the sniper rifle is something else. Especially since it’s just a game. There are no stakes, so Ghost can simply watch and marvel. He would never admit just how impressed he is when he watches Soap sneak around enemy patrols or wait until they come to them, only to jump them with a knife and dispose of them quickly.

Ghost is doing his part, of course. Whenever anyone could come close to surprising Soap, Ghost takes care of them. In one instance, it’s a very close call. Soap is about to open the door to one of the small, single-story houses in search of their VIP hostage when Ghost notices there’s an armed man standing right behind them. It’s too late to warn Soap. Ghost makes a judgement call and shoots the Tango through the window.

It causes noise, of course, and noise attracts attention.

“Alright, let’s bring in some light, shall we?” Ghost asks as he sees multiple hostiles closing in on Soap’s position.

“And there shall be light,” Soap says as he activates the charges he’s set earlier under the car at the edge of the village.

The explosion is spectacular by military standards. It’s no Hollywood fireworks, but it’s big, bright and loud—more than enough to divert attention from Soap.

Ghost checks the surrounding area. “Clear, let’s finish this up, Soap.”

“It’ll be my pleasure, Ghost,” Soap agrees as he sweeps the house for the hostage. This is the last house they haven’t checked, so the VIP must be there. Somewhere.

Ghost is doing his best to check the inside of the house through the windows, but there are still a lot of blind spots.

The moment he catches a glimpse of movement, he knows it’s too late. “Soap!”

He hears a series of silenced shots, then an audible exhale. “That was close, Ghost. I thought you had my six. I did, however, find our package. Heading out now.”

Ghost watches as Soap exits the building, cautiously looking around before he gestures for the hostage to follow. Simon is keeping a close eye on the burning car, the sizeable crowd that gathered around it, and any possible complications. The AI is, however, not that good at improvising and Soap’s retreat is as smooth as it can get.

They venture back into the forest and to the exfil point at a safe distance from the settlement.

“I’d say this is at least worth a first-name basis, Ghost,” Soap says, clearly cheerful. And Ghost? Well, Ghost has to admit he’s actually happy as well. This was his first custom mission, one he actually did in real life, and not only could he revisit it, but he could do it with a friend, a skilled one at that. It’s been the most thrilling thing he’s experienced in a year, maybe even longer. Perhaps he could indulge Soap a little.

“Alright,” Ghost relents. “On one condition. You go first.”

“Obviously,” Soap laughs but quietens fast. “I’m John.”

“Simon.”

There are a few seconds of silence. “Simon? Not what I expected.”

Ghost chuckles. “And what, pray tell, did you expect?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me how old you are,” Soap doesn’t miss a beat.

“Trying to gauge whether I’m old enough to play this game, John?”

“You guessed it!” Soap laughs.

“I’m feeling generous tonight. I’m thirty-eight.”

“Huh,” Soap huffs, and it sounds genuinely surprised. However, he doesn’t say anything about Ghost being an old man, which is good. “Okay, that’s fair. As for the name… I expected something… harder, I guess? Maybe Craig? Or Robert?”

“Fuckin’ hell…, I sound like a Craig to you, do I?” Simon groans. He never felt strongly about his name. It’s okay. It's not horrible, but it's nothing to get too excited about. When he thinks about it, he feels the same about John. It’s… fine. Ordinary in the same way a quaint little house in the countryside is.

“Well, no, I guess you don’t. But… Simon is actually nice. I like Simon. Simon,” Soap repeats the name several times as if to get used to its taste and sound.

Ghost actually sits back, frowning as he realises he’s got goosebumps. What the hell?

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #call of duty fic #I've installed Arma because of this fic #But it's still a side project #I swear

[pilferingapples]

   ah that bit in every Romanticist bio where we gotta get the who's who as the author sees it (all this is from the Fourth Musketeer)

At the Café de Paris, on the boulevard, Alexander breathed the air of the great world. There the celebrities of journalism, literature, and dandyism met.

...this gets long

That man with the warlike hat and blinking eyes' is Nestor Roqueplan who has now left his garret, his washbasin-clock and his pistols-candelabra for the comfortable offices of the Figaro.

OK was this before/after/during its time as an anti-Romanticist paper??

Next him is Jules Janin, who looks comfortably rotund but thinks only of snapping at his neighbor, and who will later fight a duel with Dumas about a wretched question of dramatic criticism.

JULES JANIN DUELED ALEX DUMAS?? ...JULES JANIN DUELES ALEX DUMAS AND LIVED?!?

That fellow by way of being a gentleman, dressed with the correctness of an English lord in a blue coat with gold buttons, a yellow waistcoat, and pearl-gray trousers, is the husband of Marie Dorval, Merle, one of the legitimist party, an epicure and an authority on gastronomy.

..wait, isn't that outfit a Werther cosplay? Am I getting the colors wrong?

. . Over at the long table, orating in a high voice, with his face awkwardly swathed in an enormous neckcloth to hide certain unpleasant scars, is Veron, nicknamed the Prince of Wales, actually the manager of the Revue de Paris, who pays Dumas royally, at least for the time being. With his high color, his greedy lips that look as if they were smeared with jam, and his gluttonous eyes, he seems at once an abbot of former times and a comedy valet.

This guy is way more important than you'd guess by how little he shows up in histories! Also he got his start in patent medicine, which is really jumping out at me post-Blue Castle read!

     That tall, thin, dark man, with hair cut brush-shaped and a prominent nose, wearing a velvet caftan and a cap lined with martin fur, is Adolphe de Leuven, librettist of the Postillon de Lonjumeau, who launched Alexander. By his side, flaunting a magnificent kidskin waistcoat and whirling his rhinoceros cane, is handsome Roger de Beauvoir, with a mop of curly black hair, the only one of Alexander's friends who is an aristocrat of wealth-Beauvoir who entertains six hundred people at the Hôtel de Pimodan, and who has just challenged Balzac for accusing him of being named neither Roger nor Beauvoir. Although Balzac took the trouble to send him "forty pages of excuses," the dandy will listen to nothing and proclaims: "I scorn M. de Balzac's prose, I want only his skin!"

holy shit Balzac you messed up??

     Here is Eugène Sue, very smart in his sea-green coat, with a rather vulgar turn of the nose that detracts from his good looks. Last, simpler and jollier than the rest, is that good fellow Méry who passes for a librarian at Marseilles, but who is always off on a lark to Paris; an amazing improviser who can compose correctly an act of a classical tragedy within two hours, and in the drawing-rooms describe the tortures of hell so vividly that the ladies beg for mercy.

Fun new party game: Describe the tortures of hell!

     Near these gentlemen, but on a lower plane, the madmen appear. "He who was Gannot" and has made himself God under the name Mapah, is a fop and a billiard player now fallen on evil days who sends out manifestos signed "By Our Apostolic Ruin."

The Mahpah is one of the wildest ...visionaries? religious ...somethings? movement leaders? of the time, love seeing him get mentioned (Wiki) (Nonbinary wiki)

Jean Journet, called the Apostle, goes about dressed as a begging friar and sells his verses unfailingly entitled "Songs" or "Cries."

...I have no idea who this is . Sounds like he's coping with poverty very artistishly.

Poor Petrus Borel imagines himself to be a wolf; at his house Alexander has eaten cream from a skull. . . .

excuse you he never said he was a wolf he said he was a werewolf and no one actually disagreed also man,you serve ice cream in skulls ONE time...

         ...you might see (Dumas) in the rue Grange-Batelière, in the salon of the dancer Marie Taglioni, "the sylph of sylphs," or at Delphine de Girardin's on the days when she recited her poems. But Alexander always grew sentimental near "the Muse" and asked her to receive him in private. "I love you," he said, "with an affection too selfish to share you with the world." Then, when they were alone together, she would interrupt him with questions about dramatic art. "Do tell me how one writes for the theater?" Dumas laughed at what he called "the naïveté of genius."      He was attractive to women, there was no doubt of that, even to the most distrustful of them. When Sainte-Beuve, who was fond of playing the rôle of intermediary, proposed to introduce Alfred de Musset to George Sand, she answered: "I don't want you to bring Alfred de Musset. He's too much of a dandy, we should never get along together. . . . Instead of him, do bring Alexander Dumas, in whose art I have found a soul, exclusive of his talent." Alexander came and Sand took a great liking to him.

Wow, imagine if George Sand had ever hung out with Musset What a disaster that would have been huh in that alternate world ><

#place names! #people! #too many to tag #alexandre dumas #Dumas #Delphine Girardin #George Sand #Petrus Borel #French Romantics

[invinciblerodent]

tbh, it never ceases to astound me that there are actual people who are fans, legitimate fans, of Ascended Astarion.

like i'm not even saying this as a funny thing, i'm not even gonna put it any tags or whatever, and it's not like i want to make fun of someone for a preference in a fictional character, that's not what this is about, it's just that.... posts here, and the comment sections on videos of his voicelines, always have at least one person trying to justify his behavior as actually good, or talking about how hot some line or another is, and how much they like this outcome (not because it's fucked up but because it's "passionate" or "sexy" or whatever- this btw is much more prevalent on youtube), and I just... can't grasp how that's a possible thing for people to think unironically. how someone can play through 100+ hours of game, interact with Astarion multiple times, take him through his whole damn personal journey, and still not feel like post-ascension he's just a... a horrible stranger wearing a friend's face.

If you see the fucked up part and go "yeah i'm into that because it's fucked up"? I'm fully in support of you. Absolutely 100% in your corner. Write/imagine/fantasize about nasty fucked up manipulation and shit all you want; I've been known to indulge in worst case scenarios myself. Engaging with unhealthy dynamics with the knowledge that it's unhealthy and exploring that can be good for the soul. But way too many seem to be arguing that "he still loves (the PC)", and that it's possible for that guy and the PC to have a decent, loving relationship on equal footing, while they need to actively dodge all the options even in-game that exist to call him out for being a piece of shit.

because he's. god, ascended he's such a creep. he sets off all the alarm bells in my head, worse than any guy I've ever decided not to let buy me a drink. an obvious manipulator, nakedly abusive, dismissive, clearly a megalomaniac that's going as far as saying the quiet part out loud in the multiple times he can say that he wants to turn the PC into a spawn so they can't leave or defy him, and it's right there on the surface in every single interaction that being with him is not a good idea. The other companions fucking hate his guts and feel sorry for the PC, and even a PC that's head over heels, fully on board with all the bullshit, and is into the whole "gilded cage enslavement" aspect, can complain (and it's implied that they have complained, multiple times) in the epilogue about not having their freedom.

Six months after becoming his spawn, they're still not a full vampire, and we know from that conversation with Aurelia and Leon that one of Cazador's little tactics had been promising his spawn freedom he never intended to give, in order to keep them obedient.

sure, he has some lines that, in a vacuum, are hot. but I'm pretty sure that's all simply Neil Newbon (despite being a very skilled actor who's fully deserving of all the acclaim he's been receiving), being physically unable to inject enough gross sewer-slime into his voice, and not any merit to this weird creep of a character.

this whole thing, I'm gonna be honest, is just... so fucking worrying to me. it like actually worries me how many people can't see something written with the explicit intent to be unsettling, and a guy written openly to be awful and shitty and gross, as such. And it's not like we can fully chalk it up to how emotion in the moment can cloud your judgement, or how manipulators can and do adjust their personalities in accordance to how best to make you stay, he's literally ones and zeroes, and a limited number of lines you can listen to over and over again and dissect if you want.

I'm not even remotely joking, is this how people end up in relationships with genuinely awful people????? because god, it sounds so terrifying that there are actual people who can look at a fictional guy draped in a red flag the size of a tectonic plate, and still only notice that the color brings out his eyes.

(and to reiterate, if the awful is the selling point, I'm fully in support of that. but god, the "I can fix him"/"I know he still loves me" sentiment is just... it makes the back of my neck itch.)

#squirrel plays bg3 #like i said not tagging #this is more of a vent post if anything #and i'm fully open to conversations but i don't really want this reblogged either

[cloudycaffeinatedcryptid]

Your requested ask :3 Who would you: Take to prom? Go on a four hour car ride with? Rob a bank with? And it's Nick, Jacob, and Travis

yyeeeeeEEEEEESSSSssss thank you for the ask!! i love Thinking about Freaks

since being in close quarters with Nick for more than six minutes will turn me into a violent beast & Travis prolly has the worst fucking music taste imaginable, Jacob is the poor soul i'm choosing to be locked in the car with me for four hours, but i'm thinking there's an unexpected advantage to this

for one: Jacob drives the van in-game, or it's at least heavily implied that he does. so i'm obligated to believe he's a decent driver, or at the very least, a confident one. i mean, a van? yikes. so just in case one of us has to do the driving, i trust him. he also prolly can't go more than ten minutes without some sort of snack &/or beverage, so i will definitely have a steady supply of Drink. which is imperative if i have to be in a car. also, he prolly likes decent music, or will be easy to bully into giving me the aux, & then he'll end up liking my music bc Trust Me He Will. all in all, it won't be the worst road trip i've ever been on. & i've been on lots of terrible road trips

Travis has plenty of experience bending the law, so i'm very excited to see how he's going to keep us out of jail for bank robbery :)

i'm taking Nick to prom so i can fist fight him to the song "Evacuate the Dance Floor" & then ditch him in front of everyone before the slow dance. he'll be fine. i'm making out with his ex-girlfriend in the parking lot

#i have plenty of Normal Feelings about these characters #tysm for this ask i had lots of fun thinking about tormenting these idiots #travis is also the only one i would trust (in the loosest sense of the word) in a bank robbery #nick & jacob are loud as fuck & dumb #i am not going to jail without getting my grubby little paws on money #these are the kind of situations i think about #the quarry #ask moth

[floralxhemmo]

home. (c.sb) - chapter 1

soobin x puppy hybrid! trans male! oc

content includes: hair colors aren’t from one particular era because i said so, completely self indulgent bc i fucking can that’s why, hybrids (obviously), past + mentioned hybrid abuse, mistreatment, and experimentation (ie. oc was in a lab), suggestive/possible smut in late chapters, fluff, angst, panic/anxiety attacks, angst but hopefully not too much, “owner” may be used to describe soobin in oc’s pov (know that i don’t really like that term so i may change it to something else later)

He awoke to silence. It was still in the early hours of the morning, light just barely peeking through the curtains. The six other hybrids in the room with him were all fast asleep in their beds; soon they’d be awake and pay him no mind, like they’d been doing for the past fifteen years.

He looked at his corner, pulling the ratted blanket tighter around his shoulders. He was crammed up against the furthest bed with a small, dirty cushion he used as a pillow. He lay there curled up in a ball, his tail in between his legs, watching the room slowly become brighter as the day came to a start.

The other hybrids woke up, gossiping about today’s adoption process, bragging about who would be able to leave and go out into the real world. He was never a part of these conversations, though he often imagined himself interacting with them. Being their servant—and the only boy, not that anyone cared to see him that way—meant he'd never be able to join them. So, he stood there, saying nothing as he made their beds.

He let the others get ready, knowing they’d leave him to clean up their mess. He’d be fed scraps in the other room while the girls dined on fancy meals. He’d bathe in ice cold water and be forced to stay inside while the others got to see the sunlight and play games. He was stuck cleaning and being treated like dirt. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary for hybrids, and it was, just not for him. 

The adoption process would take place in the afternoon and, like every other time, he wouldn’t be picked. Fifteen years in a place like the Moon residence was enough to make him lose hope. 

---

“Okay ladies, line up! Our guests will be arriving shortly!” Mrs. Moon instructed. From tallest to shortest, the seven hybrids lined up. She looked at the end of the line, her brow furrowed.

“Ms. Haerin, what have I told you? Servants are not to be adopted.” He nodded, holding back his tears, while the hybrids giggled at him. He moved over to the farthest corner, trying to hide from sight. Mrs. Moon went to each girl and straightened them up, adjusting their posture or clothing when necessary.

A few minutes passed, before a knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Moon went to answer it, and shortly returned with a man. He was tall and slender. He wore a suit made of silk, and his blonde hair was slicked back neatly. He was extremely attractive, Haerin could tell that much from where he stood. Mrs. Moon had called him Mr. Choi. 

Mrs. Moon started to introduce the girls one by one, though Mr. Choi didn’t seem the least bit interested. Not even the “princess” herself, Priscilla, caught his eye. As he neared the end of the line, he spoke, turning to Mrs. Moon.

“Are these six all you have to offer?” His voice was prettier than Haerin had expected.

“Yes,” Mrs. Moon said, “I’m afraid these girls are all we have to offer at the moment. The others are too young.”

“What about that one in the corner? Is she too young?”

“Oh, you mean Haerin? She’s not exactly for sale.”

“And why’s that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Why, she’s just a servant. Besides,” she leaned towards Mr. Choi, “she…she thinks she’s a boy. I mean, how absurd is that?” Mr. Choi looked at Mrs. Moon, his eyes turned back towards the hybrid, “I’ll take him. I’ll even pay double.”

Silence filled the room. His heart pounded in his chest, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He couldn’t hear the rest of what was said. All he could do was stare as the rest of the girls left the room. Mr. Choi walked over to him. He could faintly hear him ask if he needed to grab anything in his room. He shook his head, his ears ringing as Mr. Choi led him out of the Moon residence. 

It was only when they reached the car that the ringing stopped. He stood there while Mr. Choi went to the other side of the car. The last time he was in a car was when he was five. His breathing started to pick up as he backed away slightly. Mr. Choi came back around to where he was standing.

“Is everything okay, Haerin?”

“I…I’m sorry, Mr. Choi. It’s just that, I haven’t been in a car since I came here.”

“Ah, I see.” he looked down at them, “That’s okay, we’ll take it slow, yeah? I’ll help you get in.”

Slowly, just like he said, he helped him get into the passenger’s seat of the car, even buckling their belt for them. He felt stupid for freaking out about something as simple as getting into a car, but soon calmed down when Mr. Choi got in on the other side.

“Thank you, Mr. Choi.” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome, Haerin. And please, call me Soobin. Mr. Choi is too formal.”

“In that case…could you maybe call me Rin? I like it better,” he whispered.

“Of course,” He reached over to rest his hand on top of the hybrid’s. “I’ll call you Rin, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Also, if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like it if I could be a boy and not a girl. I-I’ll still wear what you want, I just don’t wanna be called a girl.”

Soobin laughed and then smiled brightly, “First of all, you get to wear whatever you like, you’re no longer a servant. Second of all, if you say you’re a boy, then you’re a boy. It doesn’t matter what Mrs. Moon or the girls think. Because guess what?” He held Rin’s hand gently, “You’ll never have to worry about them ever again.”

Rin smiled shyly, looking at Soobin, “Thank you, Soobin.”

“Now then,” Soobin squeezed Rin’s hand before pulling away, “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

#txt #txt x oc #soobin smut #txt fluff #soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #hybrid au #hybrid oc #txt angst #txt suggestive

[aurora-daily]

Though angelic pop anomaly Aurora hails from Norway, it can feel like she was beamed here from another planet, an alternate universe, or at the very least, another time. A superstar with an otherworldly aesthetic, a special bond with nature and millions of followers on Instagram, Aurora is so enigmatic, decoding her is an almost impossible task. Still, we cannot help but try

Aurora is sitting in her bedroom, drinking a dark liquid from an elaborate chalice. “This is cola, by the way, not wine,” she clarifies, giggling. The Norwegian artist’s signature viking-meets-anime haircut frames her angelic face, which fills my screen. Behind her, beaded vintage purses and a dramatic silver gown cascade from the wall. Also in frame: a cabinet full of teas and spices and a picture of what appears to be Mary and baby Jesus.

Aurora is six minutes late, which she is profoundly apologetic for. She had been on top of a mountain in the rain and had to blow-dry her trademark cut before meeting with me. “It’s such lovely weather today. Really small raindrops from the sky,” she says. It’s fortuitous that she likes the rain; Aurora, born Aurora Aksnes, lives in Bergen, the rainiest place on Earth. It also happens to be the birthplace of the majority of Norway’s musical talent – DJ-producers Kygo and Alan Walker, electronic duo Röyksopp, even groundbreaking composer Edvard Grieg all hail from the city.

But Aurora’s story begins on the west coast of Norway, in a village next to the Lysefjord, also known as the Fjord of Light. “A lot of nature, a lot of forest, and little people,” she says. “So I grew up quite sheltered.” A self-described introvert, Aurora spent more time as a child within her own imagination than she ever did in school. She did, however, find a great companion in nature, spending hours walking in the forests close to her home. “Nature, she belongs to all of us. And she offers so much tranquillity and peace and silence,” she says, noting that these days we tend to get “very affected by so many worthless things”. “Nature offers some peace. It doesn’t matter who you are when you’re in the forest.”

After coming across her older sister Miranda’s piano in the attic at just six years old, Aurora started writing music . As she explains it, it was her calling because she felt that she’d never heard a perfect song. At nine, she started to write lyrics in English, and at sixteen, after a video of her singing went viral online, she quit school, and went on her first tour. At 20, she released her debut album All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend, launching an international career. The record features the song “Runaway”, which, despite being six years old, has enjoyed a recent resurgence via TikTok. Today it has more than 500 million streams on Spotify.

This year, at 26, Aurora released her latest album, The Gods We Can Touch, to critical acclaim. While one would certainly identify Aurora as a pop star, she is hardly mainstream. Her music reflects her ethereal essence, somehow embodying the fjords and the mountains around which she grew up. Characterised by dreamy harmonies, her sound both transcends space and time and is rooted firmly in the modern internet pop landscape. Perhaps it ’s this dichotomy that allows her music to live both in the world of Disney’s Frozen II and in the popular video game Assassin’s Creed.

Though Aurora doesn’t recall much from her childhood, aside from “the things I was dreaming about and thinking about”, she does fondly remember her cat, Septimus. It’s the same name she’s given all of her pets – to her mind they’re all the same creature, reincarnated again and again. “To deal with pets dying, it was good for me. I was a sensitive little bean,” she says.

I reveal that I have a pet dog named Doggy, who is nearly 15 years old. As soon as I mention him, Aurora starts to cry, tapping into my impending heartbreak. These days she doesn’t have a pet herself – the lifestyle of an internationally touring pop star doesn’t suit animal companionship. She has, however, made a connection with a crow in the park next to her home. Aurora brings him shiny things, and he brings her gifts sometimes, too.

In addition to Septimus, Aurora also found companionship in her two older sisters, Viktoria and Miranda. She says they are among the few people who understand her, granting her the space and freedom to be herself. “I was very disconnected from people as a child,” she says. “I learned to love most people in my life when I grew up and understood what the essence of family is, and love, and coexisting. Because I was really overwhelmed by just learning to exist in myself as a human.”

Today, Aurora and her sisters are not only best friends, but close collaborators; Viktoria is a stylist and costume designer and Miranda is a hair and makeup artist. The sibling trio collaborated on our editorial. Later, I ask Viktoria over text message what it’s like to work with her superstar sister. “She knows when to leave it to me, and I know when to shut up and do what she wants even though it kills my pride or ego,” she says, adding that Aurora is a “very relaxed boss”. Even over text message, the sisterly bond is apparent – Viktoria signs off with a plant leaf emoji.

“I hate the fashion industry,” Aurora boldly declares when we start to discuss her eight-year long collaboration with Viktoria. “Fashion is important to me – it’s art, and it’s beautiful – but I hate the sad, hidden part of it. It’s so un-transparent and secretive.” Rather than wear items with a nebulous history, she prefers to ask Viktoria to make her clothes. Sometimes she explains her vision, sometimes they draw up designs together. “It’s very loose and free,” she says.

A conversation with Aurora can spontaneously divert to musings on space and time, philosophy, and the human condition. It strikes me that she could have become anything she wanted, but she says she quickly settled single-mindedly on music. “I understood the importance of music quite early, and I connected it in my mind with nature,” she says. “Music is a way to pool what nature is for our souls into something we can hold in our hands, and kind of shape it into something more comprehensible.” Aurora speaks of nature and music as if they are an extension of herself or a language that she speaks fluently. As the thoughts tumble out, the cogs in my mind shift as I try to keep up.

The music she was exposed to early – Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Enya – is a sanctuary for Aurora. These artists offer both a means to self-understanding and a portal for escape. “My brain has sometimes been a good thing and sometimes been a bad thing. It depends on what situation,” she says. “Since I became an artist, it’s always been my goal to offer the same kind of escape.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Aurora is not one to focus on the superficial or mundane. “It doesn’t matter if you get likes or if you’re one centimetre skinnier in your arms. Or if you have a pimple on your forehead. We know it doesn’t matter, but we still let it affect us so much,” she says (for the record, Aurora gets many likes – she has 2.3 million Instagram followers). Instead, she spends her free time studying big ideas: our perception of time, reincarnation and the meaning of life.

Aurora has a charming habit of pointing out concepts she doesn’t understand, as if she’s an alien observing human behaviour. Take, for instance, the way in which we tend to view our lives in a linear series of events - engagement, marriage, children. She chuckles and says that she doesn’t grasp any of it. “I always think of life as me being here, and then life just happens around me all the time and you’re in the middle of the now, which you always own. The now is always yours,” she says, gesturing her hands around her in a circular motion.

“Life is just all a round us, all the time. And we capture the right things sometimes, the right people and the right moments and opportunities.” She pauses to stare out her window towards the mountains, cloudy skies, and miniature raindrops she loves so much, adding, “Earth is my favourite place I’ve been in my life.”

[VOGUE SCANDINAVIA]

#submission #thank you so much for such a great submission wow #aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews

[botheringlevi]

Hello Levi, I hope you’re well. For the ask game, I’m very curious about 16 and 20.

Thank you! ☺️

Right. I'm fine, thanks.

16. name the one meal you are an absolute pro at making, bonus points for sharing the recipe 

I cooked before, for all that's worth. Back then, it was just a side effect of my experiences. When you can barely find a crumb of food, and it's not just laying around—and even then, you can't say it's not rotted until you get your hands on it—you learn how to make something out of nothing. That's all I did, but once I had the money to buy ingredients, it got to my head, and I made something on a whim. For Underground standards, it wasn't bad, and I had it so much when I was a kid that I should've been sick of it at that point.

I never heard it called anything else other than boiled cereal. Rice, or buckwheat if I could ever get my hands on any. It needed salt and a lot of water. But if you wanted it to be any good, milk. Obviously that was worthless. Blink, and it'd go bad.

To make things worse, it needed to be boiled for six hours. It didn't taste like anything, but it was filling. That's all that mattered.

It was better with milk. So much that I was drowned in compliments. Hange would somehow track me down at least three times a day and beg me to make more.

Actually if I remember right... after Hange became Commander and the Scout Regiment was seven or eight members strong, it was as good a time as any to update personnel files. Next to my actual rank, Hange added 'chef' in the smallest letters imaginable thinking I wouldn't notice. Obviously I'm talking about it now.

I could still go to some gourmet restaurant and pass boiled cereal off as something edible. Onyankopon isn't a fan, not that I blame him. He tried.

So I figured out something everyone could stand. It was a pain in the ass because the only vegetable Connie seriously enjoys is broccoli.

So it came down to chicken divan. It's technically a casserole, so I don't have to slave away making it over and over again for just one dinner.

I never measure ingredients. So I had Falco looking over my shoulder and this is what he came up with.

2 cups of cooked chicken. Slice them into chucks.

Grease a casserole dish. Boil 1.5 pounds of broccoli and use them for the base. Then take 2 cups of cooked chicken, slice them into chunks, and add those.

Mix together 2 cans of cream of chicken soup, a cup of mayonnaise, 1 tablespoon of lemon juice, and 1/4 tablespoon of curry powder. In a bowl.

Pour all of that on top. Make sure it's even.

Top it with a half-cup of grated cheese, bread crumbs, and three tablespoons of margarine. It tastes better than butter.

Having an electric stove has helped for the last step. Bake it at 350 degrees for 25 minutes. If the breadcrumbs are burnt, you cooked it too long.

20. if you have a lucky item, what is it

I don't believe in luck. I don't think I ever did. Because of that, I worked harder to achieve my goals even when it was as simple—…ha, simple now—as surviving.

Obviously... almost everything outside you or me is out of our control. Sometimes you're one cent more broke if you'd just looked at the other side of the street, sometimes chance is deadly.

If I had to choose… I’d choose a sliding knife.

#[i spent way too long on this but it’s for him] #levi ackerman rp #aot rp #levi rp #captain levi