#dates!

[frc-ambaradan]

THIS BOOK IS SO COOL!!! 🤩

Here're are the two pages about the Chiss if someone's interested, but I definetely suggest you pick up the book (don't be a stingy like me 😉): there's so many infos and stuff and with all the new material as well.

[queersturbate]

Hihi! 14 and 20 for the ask game! ^U^

hey rayla!

from this ask game!

14. are there any love rivals?

no lol, like not at all! they really only see each other, like legitimately. They are more often than not, only paying attention to each other. there isn't anyone who could compare to L, for light, and vice versa. thats a short answer but yeah nope! no love rivals for a couple of obsessed assholes!

20. what does a typical date look like for them?

Ahh! Light cooks. If Light is cooking then they know it's a date. The only thing that distinguishes them being around each other like normal, and being on a date, is if Light is cooking, L isn't on his laptop, and/or they have sex at some point. they mostly just hang out. discuss what Light made, watch something on the little tv the hotel provides. sometimes Light invites L to shower after dinner so he can wash his hair for him and they have an excuse and a more private place to be romantic. idk! just little things that separate normal days/nights into dates.

[the-final-sentence]

I can’t find the courage to tell her how much I love when she says we yet, but there’s an entire future written in that word, and we’ll make time.

Satvika Neti, from “To War We Go” in Dates!

[ununniliad]

Book Review: Dates! An Anthology of Queer Historical Fiction

Cute stuff! As the extended title implies, Dates is an anthology of queer historical fiction, mostly short (5-6 page) comics with a few prose pieces sprinkled within, funded via Kickstarter and published by a small press outlet. It's a labor of love, and it shows.

It's clear that the talent on display here is pretty raw. There's a lack of polish in much of the art and the writing. Many of the stories can't quite fit the emotional arc they're going for in the space allotted. And some of the choices in terms of shading and lettering are just odd.

But that rawness is a strength, too. There's a lot of fire and passion. There is burning anger at injustice, the injustices repeated throughout humanity's life on Earth that persist to the present day. There is intense love - sometimes sexual, sometimes romantic, sometimes neither, always queer. And there's so much care and attention put into the details of history - cultures the world over, from prehistory to the twentieth century, are lavished with detail, the stories of men, women, and none of the above rising out of the worlds in which they lived. That doesn't mean it always works, as a story - but it means there's always something to appreciate.

There are a lot of people thirsting for diverse storytelling, diverse in time and space, diverse in identity and role, diverse in love. They are the people who made this anthology - and they are the people who will appreciate it most.

[its--deandraa]

SHE BETTER DROP THOSE DATES SOON!!!

IM READYYY!!! 🐎 🤠🤠🎖️🐎🐎

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

Yeah so we were ROBBED of a full season 3

[rarephloxes]

elucienweek, flower prompt. 

sorry girls!!! I’m late!! Hope it still counts though :)))))))

for @elucienweek <3

rating: G

wc: ≈3.3k

warnings: none!! they just go on a date!!! and bring each other flowers!!

psa: my first language is Portuguese! And this is also the first thing I’ve even written and posted! Ever! So, I’m nervous!! Lol! Enjoy!! Also: outfits link at the bottom!!

~*~

  Elain flitted through her bedroom excitedly, her nerves jittery and drowned in thoughts of the day she was about to have.  

 “But what do you think I should wear?” Elain asked her sister, Feyre, who was just a laughing face in the screen of her phone.  

 “Put me on FaceTime,” Elain’s phone speaker told her “I’ll help you pick.”  

 “Can you add Nesta to the call, please?” Elain asked, eyeing the clothes hanging in her wardrobe confusedly, brows wrinkled.  

  With a sigh, she sat down at her vanity, the gleaming glass of her perfumes and pretty makeup containers beckoning her.  

 Feyre’s laughing face, a picture taken by Rhys, her sister’s husband, winked out to be quickly replace by Feyre's and Nesta’s profile pictures.  

 (Elain knew she ought to be used to the fact that her sister was wed, for she had gone to her wedding wearing a beautiful pink dress matching the few other bridesmaids. She had even danced with Rhysand’s broody brother, Azriel, and overall had a great deal of time, but it was still weird thinking of her baby sister as a wedded woman. Who also was, uselessly, trying to pretend not to be pregnant).  

“Good morning,” Nesta greeted them, a little bleary eyed “What’s this about?”  

 “Did you just wake up?” Asked Feyre with a knowing smile on her lips. Elain knew that if said smile was directed to herself, she’d blush. “It’s nearly 3PM,”  

 “Oh, well,” responded Nesta with a carefully crafted absent-minded smile “You know how Cassian can be... energetic,”  

 “Nesta!” Elain, despite her best wishes and her sister’s rather tame answer, blushed while applying her mascara “Can we please focus on the matter at hand? I really need some help,”  

 “And what, exactly, is this matter?” Nesta inquired.  

 “It’s Elain’s third date with Mr. Mystery Man,” Feyre slightly static voice answered. Elain’s phone had never been quite the same after she accidentally potted and watered it with one of her apartment plants.  

 “Oh! I didn’t know you and MMM had gotten to the third date phase!” Nesta replied with a note of enthusiasm, the buzz of a coffeemaker as her background noise “A rather early time of day for a third date, though, isn’t it?”  

 Elain bristled slightly, but Feyre answered first “It’s a picnic date, Nesta. It wouldn’t be the same if was later. And besides, it’ll be just the right time for they to see the sunset,” Feyre frowned “Did you really just wake up?”  

 “I was taking a nap,” Nesta supplied with her mouth hidden by a mug covered in book details, a library’s name scripted around it “What can I say? Cass really wore me out,”  

 “Girls, please, please, can we stay on topic?” Elain pleaded a little, “I really do need help.”  

 “Oh, those are lovely lashes, Elain” Feyre praised from where Elain’s phone was propped in her vanity. Elain, now applying her blush until she looked somewhat sunburned, questioned “Do you like it? I glue them underneath my lash line, see? It looks nice, doesn’t it?”   

 Perhaps sensing the bit of anxiety on her middle sister’s face, Nesta said “It looks beautiful, Elain. MMM will not even know what hit him”. 

 Smiling at her sister’s compliment, Elain stood up and angled her phone to the side, widening the camera range to the view of her bed and bathroom door.  

 “So,” Elain started, slightly out of frame as she scoured her clothes for something fitting, “I thought maybe a dress? No pants or shorts because I bought a charcuterie board and really am planning to eat the cake Lu... I mean, Mr. Mystery Man-” Elain stopped herself with a laugh, what a silly nickname, dear Gods. Of course, Feyre would come up with something like that “- is going to bring, so nothing constricting in the belly area,”  

 “Ooh! I know! What about the white dress? With the blue flower print?” Feyre suggested.  

 “White? Feyre, a white dress for a picnic? I’m aware you live in a palace and has the wealthiest man in the land of the free to pay for your every wish, but please remember some of us have to do laundry” Nesta said, a laugh woven in her teasing.  

 Before Feyre could answer, Elain interrupted the seemingly lighthearted argument lest she lost her sisters to an everlasting word brawl “It’s cute, Feyre, you’re right. But, Nesta has a point. I don’t want any grass stains on it.”  

 “Besides, I thought I could wear my strawberry dress,” Elain said, placing a pink dress in front of her robe clad form.  

 “Oh, that’s cute,” said Nesta.  

 “Yeah, really pretty,” agreed Feyre.  

 “Then why do you both sound so unsure?”  

 “It’s just that it is a little plain,” Feyre explained carefully.  

 “It’s a 500-dollar dress,” Elain defended “And it has strawberries in it!”  

 “Yes, of course,” Nesta complied, “But maybe something with sleeves less... puffy? Or without a childish print?”   

 Feeling a little defeated, Elain nodded.  

 Afterward, the pile of clothes on her bed rapidly grew and with it Elain’s anxiety.  

 “Gods, nothing looks good,” Elain said, hating the whiny tone of her voice.  

 “Wait, wait!” Nesta startled “What of that sage green dress?”  

 The little dying light in Elain’s chest glittered.  

 “The one from Reformation?” Elain asked hangers chiming while she reached for the dress.  

 “Isn’t it a bit too fancy?” Feyre replied, uncertain.  

 “He is really well dressed,” mused Elain, looking at herself in the mirror, sage dress draped over her front “So you think this matches well with my white Fendi boots?”  

 “Won’t the boots be uncomfortable for a sitting on the ground date?” Nesta countered, voice muffled by the running water she was using to rinse her mug, coffee long gone by then.  

 “Well, I guess,” Elain acceded just as another dress caught her eye, “YES! I think I found the one!”  

 “Let us see it then!” Feyre asked around a mouthful of something.  

 “Wait, let me put it one first” said Elain before skittering out of view.  

 “What are you eating?” asked the corner of Nesta’s face.  

 “Rhys is doing business with these Belgium people. Very fancy. Particularly important Belgium people,” Feyre’s eyes and forehead answered, “They brought a lot of chocolate,”  

 “Quite the stereotype,” A pause “Save me some?”   

 “Sorry, I’m finished with them already.”  

 “Ok! Grand reveal time!”  

  Nesta’s side eye and frown disappeared once Elain popped into frame, a soft off-white midi dress with a high neckline and short sleeves now around her body, accentuating the dip of her waist.  

 “Ooh, I love the slit!”  

 “Yes! And it’s such a nice print too! The red details go really well with your nails! Where did you go to get that set?”  

  Elain squealed, jumping a bit with the balls of her feet, her skirts flaring “I get my nails done with my neighbor’s girlfriend. She’s quite good, isn’t she?” Elain approached her phone, showing her nails to the screen. “Oh, and look at the back,” Elain twirlied, skirts swishing around her calves.  

 More excited cheers ringed around Elain.  

 “Your tits look amazing! What about the shoes?”  

 Elain barely had the time to blush.        

 ” Oh, it’d look lovely with the converse I painted for you!” Feyre pointed out.  

 Elain had to turn away to hide her frown “I’d thought to wear slip on heels?”  

 “Way better!” recognized Nesta almost too quickly “Or maybe the pretty red ones with the ties at the ankles? Low heeled?”  

 “The red ones are pretty! Yes! But the slip-ons are easier,” Elain said, showing the options to her camera “Nude or green?”  

 “Definitely green,” said Feyre as Nesta said “Go with the nude one.”  

 “Do you think I could pull off wearing one color on each foot?” Elain giggled, putting her lip gloss and money purse in her bag, leaving the colorful shoes on top of her vanity chair.  

 “Nah, Nesta’s right, go with the nude one,” Feyre said, mouth foaming with toothpaste.  

 “What was that?” Nesta mocked in a singsong voice “Can you repeat it, please, I couldn’t hear around your toothbrush. Or the sound of your betrayal. I always save you a bonbon or two.”  

 “No, you don’t,”  

 “Well, I always mean to!”  

 Feyre spit off frame and flipped Nesta the bird.  

 All three of them laughed, Elain hurrying around her room to seem like she was ready to leave.  

 “Thank you so much for tuning in for this episode of Sisterly Love,” Elain joked with a big, unnerving smile, a weird laugh she hoped the poor functioning camera of her phone would hide “I’ll see you girls on next week’s episode- “  

 “Wait! No!” Interrupted Nesta with a serious face, “I see you worrying about, pretending you’re late,”  

 Feyre, who was smiling at someone else off camera, joined in as if she’d just caught on “Yeah! Stop... doing that,”  

  “Tell us about MMM!” Nesta demanded, “You can’t expect us to let you go on a date with a creep!”  

  “How do you know I’m pretending?” Elain huffed, her eyes diminished into slits, hands at her waist.  

  “As if you’d be in the risk getting to your date late. You like him too much,”  

  Nodding to her sister’s point, Elain dropped her facade.  

  “But he’s not a creep,” Elain said as she plopped down on her cushioned vanity chair, using the mirror to double check her makeup.  

  “Then what is Mister Mystery Man like?”  

   Elain had no control over the grin that illuminated her face “He’s... charming. Kind. Tall. And a swimmer too- “  

  “A swimmer! Nice broad shoulders then, huh?”  

  “Well, yes, I guess” Elain stammered a bit “He works in Communications. His brother’s dogs just had a litter, so now he’s taking care of two puppies. The cutest little things I’ve ever seen to be honest-”

 “Ok, ok, but how well does he kiss?”  

 “You’ve kissed him, right?”  

 With a quickened heartbeat, Elain confessed “Yes,”  

 “Then come out with it already! Tell us how it was!”  

 “It was a sweet kiss. He dropped me off at home and... well, you know how these things go.”  

 Neither Nesta nor Feyre said anything, urging Elain to keep talking.  

  And if Elain got a little breathless, none of her sisters mentioned “We were heading home after dinner. He took me to the new Italian restaurant near the Sidra, so it was a short walk until my apartment.”  

 “He looked so handsome, I thought I’d melt when he held my hand and I’ll admit I was rather tipsy by then, and he was so warm and... Gods, when he leaned down to kiss me, I turned into a puddle- “  

 “That sounds straight out of that novel you lent me, Nesta,”  

 “He is quite the charmer, isn’t he?”  

 “Yes. Yes, he is” said Elain dreamily.  

 “Elain! Don’t forget to do that thing you do with your lipstick? Makes your lips look so good,” Feyre reminded enthusiastically, dragging Elain out of her stupor.  

 “Yeah, maybe then your next kissing story won’t be so wholesome,” Nesta added with a leer.  

 With a happy giggle, Elain carefully traced a discreet line with her lipliner over her cupid’s bow and covered it with lip gloss.  

 “Yeah! Just like that!”  

 “Oh, I see the difference now. You look stunning,”  

 Opening a drawer, Elain asked “Big hoops or small ones?”  

 “They won’t look good with this dress, though” mused Nesta “Unless you’re wearing the small chunky ones, more oval than circle,”  

  “You mean these?” Elain showed the jewelry, to the camera.  

 “Yes, that’s the one. I knew I should’ve gone with you to get the extra earring holes! You look ten times hotter with all these earrings.”  

 “Yeah, you definitely should’ve” agreed Feyre with a smile “You look stunning, Elain. MMM is a lucky man,”  

 Not bothering to hide her smile, Elain thanked her sisters, the video call ending quickly after their well wishes and goodbyes.  

  With a reinvigorated sigh, Elain gathered her basket, carefully picking up the flowers she had wrapped to gift her date and left her apartment in a flurry of petals and jangling keys. 

                                          ***

  Elain waited by the Velaris Park entrance that viewed the Sidra, inhaling the salty breeze that ruffled her hair and skirts, cooling the hotness of the sun on her skin. 

 Twirling around as if she’d heard her name in the wind, Lucien stepped into her line of vision and Elain was suddenly, viscerally reminded of the Three Musketeers Disney film she knew all the song lyrics by heart, with the outdated montage of Minnie, the pure hearted French princess, meeting Mickey, the earnest musketeer with a desperate need to prove himself, saturated in an array of old sparkly effects and pretty roses that sprouted at will, surrounding the animated mice in a haven of pastel pink fluffy clouds and romantic orchestra, and the terribly cheesy, awfully idealistic and childishly romantic speech about love at first sight.  

 He walked up to where she was standing, a carefully wrapped beautiful arrangement of multi-colored tulips, lilacs, and white carnations in his hand, and a basket very much like hers tucked in his elbow. He was wearing a cream button down with the top buttons undone, the wisps of red hair and freckles on his collarbone adorned by a discreet necklace glowing in the sun.  

 Elain’s tote bag slipped off her shoulder in a moment of lightheaded carelessness and Lucien gracefully helped her reassert the bag in her shoulder, his hand lingering if only for a moment.  

 “Are these for me?” he asked as a greeting, the light of his smile mirrored in his eyes.  

 “Yes,” she smiled too, something soft slipping into her ribcage and filling her with sunlight at the sight of him “You said these were your favorites in-”  

 “My mother’s garden,” he said with her, still smiling at her like he could not stop even if he tried “I’ll admit it now that I didn’t share that bit of information necessarily aiming for a gift” he walked the few steps so he could stand at her side “Not that I’m complaining.”  

 "I'm glad you liked them," Elain said, her sunglasses slipping on the bridge of her nose "I believe I was promised a fine spot for picnics and watching the sunset?" Lucien’s presence melted away Elain’s unsteady nerves, the tension of her body uncoiling with the tender warmth flowing off him.  

 "The best spot there is," he promised with a wink "Also, these are for you" Lucien mentioned to the graceful bouquet of peonies, buttercups and sunflowers in his hands, the few residual beads of water in the petals scintillating in the sunlight. “I thought it might be presumptuous of me to gift you my favorite flowers, so hence the absence of tulips.”  

  Elain chuckled, walking by Lucien’s side as he led them to his favorite part of the park “I wouldn’t have minded at all. Tulips are one of my favorites as well,” 

 “A woman of great taste,” he replied with a little head bow.  

 Elain, her mouth a little dry, a few strands of her front hair pieces sticking to her brow, wondered why she had ever felt nervous to meet Lucien, with his soft curls smelling of autumn, apples and cinnamon, steady hands, and bright, bright smile. There was nothing unpleasant about his presence, the effortless way he stood and spoke, the grace in his step or the lovely caramel of his eyes. 

 He guided her to a little alcove of grass, lined by tall stone walls covered in vines. In all her walks through the park, she never noticed it. A beautiful corner hidden from curious eyes, but not blocking the river’s breeze or the sight of its running waters. 

 “I’ve got a friend in the team of architects that planned this park,” Lucien explained at Elain’s surprised face “Not exactly something one would find in the City Guide,” 

 “It’s lovely, Lucien. I’ll admit that this could possibly be the best the best sunset viewing spot,” 

 “Possibly be?” he asked with mock outrage, setting the waterproofed fabric over the grass, soon followed by a dark blue checkered flannel blanket “It is the best one. It’s the reason it’s a secret” he said in a conspirators whisper, comically eyeing their surroundings as if in search of busybodies. 

 “Well, I can only decide after the day’s event,” Elain sat at the other side of the blanket, carefully arranging her basket’s content over the fabric, swiping their bouquets so they rested near their respective owners. 

 “Is this a ruse so that I work extra hard to impress you?” 

 “I don’t know,” she smirked while plating the delicate chocolate strawberries she’d made herself the night before, “Is it working?” 

 “I’m proud to say I’ve being incessantly trying to remain at my A game since the moment I looked at you the first time. 

 “That’s good,” if the blush staining her cheeks gave away her smugness, Lucien didn’t acknowledge it.

*** 
 

It was easier than falling asleep, talking to Lucien. Like being carried away by a gentle river current. Like the subtle swing of a hammock by the beach. 

 He liked bossa nova, and she did too! Her father introduced it to her when she was a little girl, swaying her in his arms. It was Lucien’s mother favorite music genre, he accidentally scratched one of her vinyl records as a kid in his haste to listen to the soft melody, the boyish delight he had at the gleam in his mother’s eyes, rare even then, making his fingers clumsy. 

 He grew up in New Hampshire, in a big estate house with woods nearby, camping with his siblings every other week, learning how to fish with his hands because he never liked to use hooks, even as a little boy. Elain had never been one for the outdoors, except for the window box, the closest thing to a garden she had ever managed to keep over the years in her family’s one bedroom apartment. But she’d like to see it someday. He would love to show it to her, he promised with his hand hidden under his thighs as if to retract from touching the flush on cheeks. 

 Elain lived most of her life in apartments, except for the few summers she used to spend at her grandparents’ country house. Her grandmother had the most beautifully cared for garden Elain had ever seen. It even had a maze, towering walls of green she could get lost into while exploring with her sisters. Once her grandparents passed away, her father had to sell the property. She never got the chance visit it again. 

  The deep orange skylight alerted them of the incoming sunset, the Sidra’s waters a wonderful watercolor of blues, pinks, reds, and oranges, gleaming in between the dark green frames of the vine-covered high fence surrounding them.  

  By then, the initial space between them had dwindled, the food containers already inside their baskets, only wine glasses a sip away from being finished near their lazied forms. Elain and Lucien were laying side by side, the gentle slope of the ground allowing them to look at the departing sun without strain. 

 They hadn’t properly touched yet. The easiness of darkness and alcohol in their last date was substituted by the brightness of day and sobriety, their interaction more measured physically. Elain felt the absence of touch as the whispers of a phantom limb. 

 Consumed by the incandescent light of the sun, an unexpected source of courage, Elain laid her head on Lucien’s shoulder. She hadn’t realized they had been quiet for a while, the sunset filling the space where their words had been. 

 Before she could speak, Lucien snaked his arm under her neck, twisting his body to hold hers as they watched the dark blue dotted with stars overthrow the magnificent golden orange. 

 “Is this, ok?” 

  A nod. 

  A hug. 

  A breath on the neck. 

  A shy kiss on the cheek. 

  The white-hot warmth of his lips on hers. 

  The devastating light of her lips on his. 

  Finally, being home. 

Thank you so much for reading it!!!! Please, I'd reeeeealy appreciate your opinions/feedbacks on it :))))

Elain’s dress, shoes

Lucien’s shirt