I Refuse To Believe Sarah J Maas Wrote The Line “Autumn Court Males Have Fire In Their Blood And They

reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead

If you like feral mates:

Touch her, smell her, taste her—

Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—

His russet eye flashed with simmering rage. An uncontrollable instinct—for a mate to eliminate any threat. But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair.

If you like protective mates:

Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” I knew who he meant. I shook my head. “I don’t know. Rhysand has a hundred places where they could be, but I doubt he’d use any of them to hide Elain, knowing that I’m aware of them.” “Tell me anyway. List all of them.” “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.”

“My mate is none of your concern.”

“She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—”

If you like mates who believe in the FMC:

But Mor tried again. “There is a reason why Elain is seeing these things. She was right about the other queen turning old, about the Ravens’ attack—why is she being sent this image? Why is she hearing this queen? It must be vital. If we ignore it, perhaps we’ll deserve to fail.” Silence. I surveyed them all. Vital. Each of them was vital here. But me … I sucked in a breath. “I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke.

Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

If you like mates who will fight their way across the world to find her:

“I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.

If you like concerned mates:

And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand?

“Let me do something. About Elain.

“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”

“Should we—does she need …?”

If you like loyal mates:

I asked Lucien to escort me, and he’d been more than happy to do so, given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

“I’m a mated male now.”

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness. Then almost two years later -> Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

If you like mates who are completely gone for her:

But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

“No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.

I hereby declare Lucien, King of All Mates

Cassian - An unexpected meeting (ACOTAR)

Y/n (she/her) x Cassian (ACOTAR)

This short fic takes place in the pleasure hall, Rita's, with an infuriating Ex and an unexpected encounter 🤭

No trigger warnings, just an annoying Ex and some help from a handsome general 😏

(Disclaimer: I am dyslexic, so hopefully it doesn't suck)

~

Rita’s had always been a dazzling pleasure hall, a cherished haunt where fae from every corner of Valaris converged for a night of revelry. The air was thick with the intoxicating mix of bitter alcohol and the musky scent of bodies in motion. The vibrant, electric music pulsated through the space, drawing everyone into its rhythmic embrace. With so many bodies intertwining and grinding to the infectious beat, it was no wonder that this establishment basked in its popularity.

Y/n had come out with a spirited group of friends, their laughter and enthusiastic chatter dancing alongside the music. Dressed to the nines, she turned heads, catching fleeting glances filled with admiration and curiosity. The flashing lights and frenetic energy surged through her veins like a potent elixir as she savoured her third drink of the evening. The delightful buzz of alcohol wrapped around her, soothing the stress that had gnawed at her mind for weeks.

As she danced, lost in the moment, a sudden awareness crept over her—a potent sensation of being watched. Not a mere glance but a deliberate gaze that made her skin prickle. Seeking the source, she found—an all-too-familiar figure. A high-fae male striding confidently across the room, his blonde hair shimmering like spun gold under the strobe lights. When her eyes locked with his, clarity sparked in her mind, igniting memories of the stubborn bastard who had once been her partner.

In an instant, the vibrant atmosphere of the night seemed to drain away, replaced by a hollow ache of disgust and annoyance. It was just like him to intrude on her moment of joy. As she scanned the crowd for her friends, a wave of panic washed over her upon finding only the glassy-eyed faces of strangers. The realisation that she had been left behind tightened like a noose around your chest.

A scowl danced across her face as the blonde male pushed through the throng, unmistakable displeasure etched in her every feature. Yet the male remained undeterred, closing the distance with an unnerving swagger. His voice, barely rising above the raucous music, dripped with condescension, stoking the flames of y/n’s anger. “Come to show off your new male? Oh, wait. You came alone, didn’t you? Are you that desperate for my attention, hm?” The wicked amusement glinting in his eyes only served to amplify the fury bubbling within her.

But just before her resentment could erupt, a deep, slightly rough voice sliced through the noise beside the two. “And who are you talking to, sweetheart?” The words trembled through her body, sending an exhilarating shiver down her spine. A strong arm encircling waist, pulling her gently against the tall figure standing protectively by her side. Hazel eyes, filled with a fierce scowl, fixed on the blonde male.

The blonde male’s gaze flickered between y/n and the towering newcomer, taking note of the protective embrace. Yet, he seemed unfazed by the imposing presence, his voice dripping with bravado as he shouted over the music, “And who are you to call them that?” The hand resting on y/n’s waist began to draw gentle circles on her skin, an instinctive act of reassurance that calmed the chaos swirling within her.

The taller male let the silence stretch, creating an almost palpable tension, and y/n’s gaze was drawn upward to his striking features. Surprise blossomed within her at the sight of his hazel eyes, so rich and warm that they felt almost inviting. He stood tall and confident, his shoulder-length dark hair tousled as if he had just run a hand through it in exasperation. But what captivated y/n even more were his magnificent wings—vast and membranous, unmistakably Illyrian. Yet instead of fear, there was an unexpected comfort in his presence, a feeling that he was attuned to her distress.

The male seemed to sense her reassurance, a charming smirk spreading across his lips, inadvertently igniting a blush on y/n’s cheeks. His gaze shifted back to her Ex, his expression growing cold and unyielding. “You know this rat, sweetheart?” His gentle yet formidable tone drew y/n’s attention back to the blonde male, whose disgruntled expression sparked a flicker of amusement in her.

“No,” she declared firmly, satisfaction threading through her voice as it cut through the music. The arm around her waist shifted, and the male turned, guiding her away from the tension that could have marred her night. “Good,” he replied, a hint of approval lacing his tone.

As y/n blinked up at him, relief washing over her, she felt like she was traversing away from the shadows of the past and stepping into the light of a much brighter evening.

~~~~~~ The end... or is it? ~~~~~~

Only my second fic, but hoping to make many more 😊

let me know if there's anything I could improve on pls, positive criticism is always appreciated ❤

JADE performs ‘ANGEL OF MY DREAMS’ at the 2025 BRIT AWARDS

HOPE ON THE STAGE in Seoul D1

How it started *Under the Mountain*:

Feyre: “So that’s the love of my life.”

Rhys: “Really? Tamlin? That guy?”

Feyre: “Yeah. Thoughts?”

Rhys: “And prayers. Girl what-”

Where it went *Early ACOWAR*:

Feyre: “So this is my mate.”

Lucien: “Really? Your mate is that guy?? Rhysand???”

Feyre: “Yeah. Thoughts?”

Lucien: “And Prayers. Girl what-”

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 💙🦇🩵

Art by @jessi.brasilart

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

Something Like Love

Han Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, suggestive MDNI

Genre: friends/friends with benefits to lovers, fluff

Summary: You've been in love with Minho for so long, but he's already in a relationship - a really toxic one. And your best friend Jisung, who is also like your best friend with benefits, is your only source of comfort. And it looks like there's more cooking here than just benefits.

Your favorite fuzzy blanket did absolutely nothing to cushion the blow of watching Hana shove her tongue down Minho's throat in her Instagram story. You’ve watched it three times now (you didn’t even know why but you liked torturing yourself). 

Why does he stay with her? She was bossy and such a narcissist! Jisung noticed the pout on your face and sighed, plopping down beside you.

“Put that away,” He said softly, wrestling the phone off your hand and tossing it aside. 

You looked at him and saw him giving you that look. The one that made you wonder why you even want Minho in the first place.

You huffed, throwing your head back dramatically.

“She was literally eating Minho’s face like it was her last meal. And he looked so miserable, Ji. Miserable!”

Jisung raised an eyebrow as he popped open the wine bottle.

“Maybe he likes being miserable. Some people are into that. Like you and this whole ‘pining after your taken best friend’ thing.” Jisung teased, and you glared at him. 

But he just grinned, handing you a glass of wine. 

“Don’t.” you bit out. 

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? That you’re wasting your time on Minho when you could be -”

“Jisung.”

“Fine, fine.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender, but there was that glint in his eye. That Jisung glint. The one that promised things you didn’t want to think about right now.

Because Jisung? Jisung was safe. He was your comfort zone. The guy who knows exactly when to show up, exactly what to say (or not say), and exactly how to make you forget about Minho.

Like right now.

He set his wine down, leaned back, and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You hesitated, because you know where this is going. It wasn't like this was your first rodeo. But tonight, with Minho’s stupidly gorgeous, miserable face burned into your brain, you didn’t have the energy to resist.

You climbed into Jisung’s lap, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Let it go, babe” Jisung said softly. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. But you can make out with your incredibly sexy boy here to forget about him.”  

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“Ridiculously good in bed,” he shot back, leaning in closer.  

“Why am I even friends with you?”  

“Because I’m the only one who puts up with your Minho obsession and gives you orgasms on the regular.”  

You slapped his arm, but he caught your hand, tugging you closer with a smug grin.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice dipping. “Let me take care of you.”  

And that’s how it always is with Jisung. No questions. No strings. Just heat and comfort and the kind of laughter that made your tummy ache.

—-

Later, when you were lying in bed, thoroughly spent, he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You know, I’d treat you way better than Minho ever could.” Jisung teased. 

“Please. You’d annoy the crap out of me within a week.” you snorted. 

“True,” he admitted with a grin, kissing the top of your head. “But at least I wouldn’t make you cry.”

And damn it, if that didn’t make your stupid heart skip a beat.

You weren’t entirely sure why you agreed to this. Maybe it was the way Minho had looked at you, all big, sad eyes and that faint pout you couldn’t resist.  

Jisung smirked like the devil himself as he whispered, “We’re gonna regret this so hard, aren’t we?”  

Of course you did. 

The Christmas market was magical, with the twinkling lights, the scent of cinnamon and mulled wine, and obviously, the company of your friends - but Hana managed to suck the joy out of it faster than the Grinch with a vacuum cleaner.  

The mulled wine was too hot. The fudge was too sweet. The carols were too loud.

You gritted your teeth, gripping Jisung's arm so tight. Why the hell were you all letting her lead the way?! 

Hana stopped in front of a stall selling silk scarves and picked up a bright pink one. 

“Oh this would look good on me,” She announced, and Minho winced before gently saying, “It’s not really your color,” 

“Stop thinking about strangling her with that scarf, love.” Jisung whispered in your ear. 

You snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth as Hana shot you a glare. “Something funny?”  

“Nope,” Jisung said smoothly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoying the festive spirit.”  

“Can you not be so clingy?” Hana snapped at Jisung after she saw him move a strand of hair off your face. “It’s so… obvious.”

“Hana please-” Minho tried. He did.  

“Obvious?” you repeated, voice colder than the December air.

Hana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a condescending smirk.

“I mean, really. Do you need him to hold your hand all the time?” 

It took everything in you not to lunge at her, and only Jisung’s firm grip on your wrist stopped you from doing something you’d regret.  

“Relax,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. “She’s not worth it.”  

“I need to use the bathroom,” you hissed, yanking Jisung on your way, brushing past Minho.

“Why does he need to go with you?” Hana called after you, but you didn’t even glance back.

You stormed through the market, weaving past stalls until you found a quiet corner near a stand selling candied nuts. The scent was almost enough to calm you down. Almost. 

“I swear to god, Sungie, I’m gonna -”  

Before you could finish, Jisung spun you around and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “She’s not worth the jail time.”  

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, but your anger was already starting to melt under his touch.

“I just - ugh, she’s so -”  

“I know baby, I know,” Jisung said with a little chuckle.  

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. 

“You’ve gotta let it go, babe. And honestly…” He grinned, his lips brushing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way cuter when you’re happy.”

“You’re so smooth,” you murmured, but your hands were already fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer.  

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, before finally kissing you.  

It definitely wasn’t the first time, of course, but it always felt new with Jisung. 

When you finally pulled back, your anger had dissolved into something softer, something sweeter.  

“You good now?” he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.  

“Better,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest.  

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from the world. “Now, let’s get back out there before Hana convinces Minho to buy her that ugly scarf.”  

“Do we have to?” You groaned.

“Hey, you dragged me here,” he pointed out with a grin.  

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”  

“I am,” he said, tilting your chin up to kiss you again. “Always.”    

The Christmas market outing hadn’t been great, but dinner was starting to look even worse. You all sat at a cozy little restaurant, candlelight flickering over the table while festive decorations twinkled. It should’ve been perfect. 

But then there was Hana.  

Minho had been eyeing the beef stew on the menu with excitement.

“I want to try this,” he said, but Hana barely looked up from her phone.

“That’s too heavy. Order the grilled salmon instead. It’s better for you.” she said, her bossy tone dimming the mood instantly.

Minho’s expression faltered as he said, “I kind of wanted the -”

“Salmon,” Hana interrupted, snapping her menu shut with finality. “Trust me. It's better.”  

You gripped your menu so hard you were surprised it didn’t rip in two. You wanted to stab her with the fork. No wait, you wanted to slap some sense into Minho.

But before you could actually do anything, you felt Jisung's hand on your thigh, his long fingers squeezing gently. 

“Salmon it is,” Minho muttered, deflating like a popped balloon. 

When the waiter came to your table, you watched Minho order two of those damn salmon.

 “I’ll have the beef stew, please.” you heard yourself say.

Jisung immediately chimed in, “And I’ll take the gnocchi.”

You snapped your head toward him, because you've been wanting that gnocchi. He winked at you and said, “It’s called teamwork, babe.”  

Your heart did a weird flip. Damn him and his perfectly calculated sweetness. Your eyes moved towards Minho, who was now clicking some pictures of Hana, and then to Jisung's hand on your thigh.

You placed a hand on top of his and squeezed tight.

—--

The food arrived a short while later, and Hana’s sharp eyes immediately darted to the beef stew in front of you. 

Without a word, you pushed your plate toward Minho.

“Here. Trade with me.” you said. 

Minho blinked, startled.

“What? No, I can’t -”  

“Minho,” you said softly, “it's ok, I want you to have it.”

He hesitated, glancing between you and Hana, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his cheeks pink. 

“Positive.” You smiled, even as your heart twisted.  

Minho hesitated for another moment before switching plates with you.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite place.

Before you could start on the salmon, Jisung slid his gnocchi in front of you and took the salmon for himself.

“Sungie, you didn't have to-” You stared at him, half smitten and half exasperated.

“It's for the greater good, you can thank me later,” he said cheerfully, digging in.

Hana’s glare could’ve frozen molten lava, though.

“Do you two always make everything about yourselves?”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, giving her a shit-eating grin.

“Mostly yeah.” he said, and you didn’t miss the way Hana’s eyes narrowed.

As you all fell silent, focusing on your food, you couldn't help but feel a weird pull in your heart. And it had nothing to do with Minho. And everything to do with this messy haired boy sitting beside you.

The cold air bit at your face as you and Jisung stepped out of the restaurant, the distant glow of holiday lights softening the edges of the night.

Now, you were walking side by side through the bustling city streets, holding hands. Snowflakes fluttered down, catching in his messy hair, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.  

You stopped walking, your breath clouding in the cold air. “Why are you so good to me, Sungie?”  

He stopped too, surprised at the abrupt halt and the unexpected question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, making him look absolutely adorable. 

“Because I’m a mess,” you said, half-laughing, half-starting to cry. “Because I keep dragging you into this whole thing with Minho and I feel like I'm so damn selfish…you don't deserve this, Sungie-”  

“I'm doing this for me, not for you or anyone else. Can you try to accept that? I like being with you, ok?” he interrupted, his tone light but his eyes giving him away.  

Your stomach dropped. 

“Relax,” he added quickly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into that familiar smirk. “I’m just saying… I care about you. That’s it. No strings, no expectations. We agreed on that.”  

It was so Jisung - offering everything without asking for a damn thing in return. And it made you want to cry and kiss him all at once.  

So, you did the latter.

You stepped closer, gripping at his jacket tightly to pull him down to meet your lips. His breath hitched as you kissed him, soft at first, then deeper as he kissed you back.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the world around you faded into nothing but the warmth between you two. 

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, he let out a breathless laugh.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For being too good for your own good.” You smiled, your hands cupping his cheeks.

“Oh? Are you planning to ‘thank’ me properly?”  he asked, raising an eyebrow, his grin turning wicked.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you whispered, “Take me home then.”  

---

The second you stepped into his apartment, your back hit the door as Jisung kissed you like a man possessed. His hands were busy pulling your jacket off you, followed by your sweater and everything else. 

You sighed as you felt his lips and hands everywhere - as if he couldn’t get enough of you. 

“Been waiting for this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough. “You have no idea.”  

“Then show me,” you shot back, tugging him toward the bedroom.

He chuckled, both of you stumbling into his bedroom, and onto his bed. Clothes were shed, and he was settled in between your legs as he hovered over you.

As your eyes met, you saw something you didn't before - the softness of his gaze, a longing. And it made your heart flutter. Neither of you acknowledge it, and the rest of the night was a blur of soft whispers and sweet love making.

Jisung wasn’t just good - he was great, knowing exactly what you liked. And he did give, over and over again, until you were left breathless and completely exhausted.  

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“For what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your temple.  

“For being you.”  

Christmas Eve at Jisung’s place was always so chaotic. You both celebrate together when you couldn't travel back home for the holidays. 

Currently his living room was a mess with half-wrapped presents scattered across the floor, the scent of gingerbread in the air, and Jisung humming Christmas songs off-key. 

This year, though, Christmas came with an unexpected guest.  

Minho stood awkwardly in the doorway, a small bag in his hand and a defeated smile on his face. He looked exhausted. 

Hana was officially out of the picture. The breakup had been messy and so damn difficult, but Minho had finally done it. 

Jisung wasted no time pulling him into a tight hug. And you did too, because he needed all the hugs and love you could give because the poor man has been through a lot.

Minho slowly relaxed, even cracked a few jokes.

But it wasn’t until later, when the three of you were cleaning up in the kitchen, that he finally let the mask slip.

“You were right about her,” Minho said quietly, leaning against the counter as he dried a glass.

You glanced up from where you were wiping down the counter, surprised by the softness in his tone. 

“Minho -”  you began, but your eyes fell on Jisung, who quickly left the kitchen, leaving you alone with Minho. You didn't know why, but it absolutely shattered your heart to see him slip away like that. 

“No, let me finish.” He set the glass down and turned to you. “I shouldn’t have dragged it out. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I was scared to let go... I liked her so much, I kept thinking she would change…but deep down, I knew.”  

You stayed silent, giving him space to continue.  

“And I knew about you,” he admitted, his voice even softer now. “That you… liked me. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I never thought of you like that and I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've said something.”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the counter.

“Love is weird, Minho,” You said quietly. “It's messy and complicated, and you don't have to feel bad about anything. Because you're ok, I'm ok… we're good.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours on the counter. 

“You and Jisung? I think it's great. He is such a nice guy, and it's so obvious that he loves you so much.” Minho said, giving you a grin. 

You smiled gently, your cheeks heating up.

“I think so too,” You whispered. “I’m glad you’re here, Lino…I’ll finish this up, you can go to bed. Get some rest, yeah?”

Minho nodded, pulling you into a quick hug before leaving the kitchen.

Your heart raced as you thought about what Minho said. You've been trying to decide how to bring it up with Jisung for a while now. But you were so afraid, because you know you wouldn't survive the heartbreak if you ever lost Jisung. 

He was everything to you. He made you feel wonderful - like the most special girl in the world. And it felt great. 

So you walked into the living room with wobbly legs, where Jisung was sitting by the Christmas tree, fiddling with a Rubik’s cube. The fairy lights reflected off his skin, making him look impossibly soft and adorable. 

When he saw you, his lips curved into that familiar, heart-melting smile.

“Hey,” he said, setting the cube down. “Everything ok?”

“Sort of.” You grinned, crossing the room to him. Without a word, you slipped into his lap, your arms draping around his neck.  

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, his hands instinctively settling on your hips. 

“Uh… not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?” he asked, his eyes darting towards the guest room where Minho was. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. 

Your eyes meet as you said, “I love you, Sungie.”  

His mouth fell open, and for a second, he just stared at you, completely shocked.

“You… what?”  

“I love you,” you repeated, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I have for a while now. I just didn’t realize it until - well, until recently.” 

The disbelief melted from his face, replaced by a slow, utterly pleased smile.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, pressing your lips to his forehead, before saying, “I love you.”

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been waiting to hear that for a really long time.”  

And then he kissed you - soft at first, but quickly deepening as his hands slid up your back. You put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, humming softly as his tongue caressed yours.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips. “God, I love you!”

You giggle, pressing kisses to his cheeks. 

“So,” he said, “How exactly do you want to ‘celebrate’?”  

You grinned, pulling him down into another kiss. “I have a few ideas.”  

This was your Christmas. And it was perfect.

Tags:

@moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix

DOECHII & LIL NAS X at the 36th Annual GLAAD Media Awards

welcome to my crack au where everything was fine and nothing bad ever happened to anyone