#I would like to see the agreement terms 😂😂😂

[thearchercore]

I came across these 2 thoughts which really interested me on the blog@tsarinablogs and I found her responses very interesting. (I always like his answers which are very relevant and interesting)

I would also like to know your opinion on this subject because I really like your way of perceiving and analyzing. (if that doesn't bother you of course, it's not at all an obligation)

1)

after having an anon's thought, i realized something. (a personal impression) max is someone who is very easy to read, I have the impression that we know straight away what state of mind he is in, he is very open about his emotions, he is easy to read.

Charles, on the other hand, is very paradoxical. He has a very expressive face, you see everything on his face. But at the same time and despite this I find that he remains someone difficult to read. He is expressive but he still maintains a certain control over his emotions. I think sometimes it's hard to really say what he thinks. I don't know if I'm expressing my thoughts well, sorry 😂 I just find that Charles is much more complex than he seems. People like to call him nice, naive and handsome //

2)

It's fascinating how similar and different Charles and Max are at the same time. In terms of racing, they are identical (even in the way they drive there are similarities). They talk about running as something vital, a need, as if the only time they feel comfortable and at peace is in a car. I have no doubt that it is a passion for all drivers but for them it seems like it is different. It seems like they need things to go well. They compare their car to a member of their body. Their way of talking about racing is different and I have the impression that what binds them is that they are the only ones who understand each other. They find themselves in this way of thinking, in this obsession and this vital need; there is an agreement.

another similarity is their humor and their perception of life; I have the impression that they are similar in this respect.

Their difference mainly lies in the way they act and interact with others. Max is very direct and more awkward, he has less self-confidence and needs some approval (like when he makes jokes). He is a very affectionate and spontaneous person. Charles is more socially comfortable and has more confidence. he has more control over his emotions than Max but at the same time he is a very open person.

thank you for mentioning @tsarinablogs! we're friends, and not to sound like i lack any critical thinking whatsover, but we do have a lot of joint opinions

THAT BEING SAID, what i find most interesting about them is how max generally never pretends, he's extremely straightforward and unless RB pr holds him at gunpoint, he will say what he thinks. charles, on the other hand, knows how to use the public opinion to his advantage and knows how to manipulate the narrative extremely well.

when you put these things together, you end up with what max and charles have going on - max who never cares about pretending to be anything he's not being interested in charles and charles, who's really great at keeping his PR persona up, tends to lose some of his cool around max and just becomes more of a private version of himself, let's say. so it's definitely fun to watch them interact vs other people on the grid just in terms of their persona preference of how they present themselves to the world.

when it comes to racing, i think they are extremely similar in both their mindset, approach, and driving styles. someone recently dug out an instance when drivers on track were complaining about their back in the cars and only him and max didn't mind “I am not here to be comfortable, I am here to drive a fast car” so it definitely helps to find someone who has similar mindset in the industry you work in, no matter what sort of industry it is.

finally, you can just tell both max and charles are there to race and win. it's their hyperfixation basically, and so them talking about racing probably fires up those little insane neurons in their brains and they can't physically shut up. i think we've all been here (when you find joint interest and realise the other person shares the same opinions AND you can nerd out together).

#lestappen

[the-lonelybarricade]

Queen of Thieves - Chapter 6

Summary: A fulfillment of this kinkmeme prompt. Or; A Canon AU where half fae, con-artist Feyre makes an ill placed bet.

All of my love to @climbthemountain2020 for reading through this chapter and convincing me not to delete everything 😂💕

Read on AO3・QoT Masterlist ・Previous Chapter

-

The terms of a bargain must always be clear.

In Prythian, ambiguity was a weapon, and by the docks of Velaris, the lesser fae knew how to wield it expertly. There, where saltwater seeped through the cracks in the wood, rotting everything from the inside out, gamblers only kept on their feet through careful, precise wording.

At a minimum, each deal should state plainly when it begins and ends. If the terms of a bargain weren’t finite… it could be damning. It could mean a lifetime in service of its terms.

Raised as a merchant’s daughter, Feyre learned at an early age how to word a deal in her favor. But it was the years that came later, when evenings in taverns became routine, where she witnessed the true consequences of ill-worded bargains. Swaggering males who walked through the doors with everything and found themselves indebted beyond coin.

The lacework of ink decorating Feyre’s hand, fingertip to elbow, laid testimony to each wager she’d ever made, the countless times she’d risked her life on a gamble. And won. But perhaps, caught in the arrogance of her triumphs, she’d forgotten her first tavern-goer lesson.

The terms of a bargain must always be clear.

Twenty-four hours of her company, during which the High Lord could do whatever he liked to her, in exchange for ten thousand marks.

A simple enough bargain. Straightforward, finite, measurable. The twenty-four hours had passed, and the ten thousand marks had been conferred. The terms were fulfilled, and hypothetically, Feyre and the High Lord would now be able to go their separate ways.

But—that had not been part of the bargain. If Feyre could go back to amend the terms, she would have added: Twenty-four hours, after which the High Lord was never allowed to see or contact her again.

They’d made no such agreement. Which meant that after the funds had been withdrawn from the account Rhysand created in Feyre’s name, of which he’d doubtlessly been notified, there was nothing stopping the High Lord from waiting outside the modest apartment they rented above a confectioner’s shop in the Palace of Bone and Salt. She’d hoped for somewhere on the Rainbow, but ten thousand marks would only stretch so far, and the two-bedroom apartment that perpetually smelled of burnt sugar was a far improvement from the moldy attic in the tavern.

“He’s back,” Elain said, appearing at her door frame with wide eyes.

Of course he was. This had become his daily routine.

Feyre pried the hatch of her second-story window open, exposing her bedroom—one she no longer needed to share with her sisters—to the dewy morning air, crisp and sweetened by the cooked sugar within the shop below. The High Lord of the Night Court was opposite its storefront, propped against the wall with his hands leisurely tucked into his pockets.

He’d been staring at her window before she’d pushed it open, and when she leaned over the windowsill, his smile stretched wide enough to see his perfectly white teeth.

“Surely a High Lord has more important things to do than stand outside my window?”

“Someone thinks highly of herself,” he said, nodding towards the Cauldron’s Confections sign hanging over the door. “I could be here to provide valuable patronage to my people.”

“Patronage usually occurs inside the shop.”

Rhysand shrugged. “Some find my presence… distracting.”

Feyre snorted under her breath. Distracting didn’t even begin to describe how it felt to be pinned beneath his assessment. Even across the cobblestone pavement and a story below, his power radiated from him, pulsing like an invading heartbeat, threatening to spear beneath her veins and take control. His talons of darkness were nowhere to be seen, but Feyre still double-checked her mental shields just to be sure nothing crawled into her mind while her guard was down.

“I’m waiting out here until the shop quiets down,” he continued.

A moment of silence was all she needed to confirm his lie. The shop did sometimes get busy, particularly at midday, when an influx of voices swept in from the streets and drowned out the movements of the kitchen in the back. Now, the voices in the shop were a low murmur—and if she listened carefully, she could still pick out the crackling flame beneath the oven, the soft sputter of melted chocolate.

“In other words, you’re loitering,” she said.

Outside of his line of vision, she could feel moisture collecting in the hollow between her palm and her death grip on the window ledge. It was a concentrated effort not to fidget, particularly as Rhysand cocked his head like he was weighing the audacity in her tone.

Then he smirked. “And if I am, who’s going to hold me accountable for it?”

There was a challenge in the way he said it—in his eyes, as he studied her, turning over every inch of her expression for all the pieces of information she was unknowingly betraying. His smile was taunting, like that penetrating gaze saw past the veneer she painted over her uncertainty, through the defiance of her tipped chin and narrowed brows, right to the pit of apprehension yawning open in her stomach.

This was a mask she’d worn a thousand times over, night after night in that cramped tavern. She’d faced the scrutiny of males with fewer reservations towards violence, and yet none had ever made her feel so unsteady as the High Lord. But none had ever been as powerful, as capable of killing her with half a thought.

“The press,” she decided, after a moment’s consideration. “I bet I could sell this story for a pretty copper. The High Lord neglects his duties to laze around a sweet shop. Better yet—to stalk a harmless female.”

Stalk. She couldn’t believe she’d said it out loud, and to his face no less. Her boldness was going to get her killed one of these days, but this was the third day in a row that he’d shown up outside her apartment. She didn’t see how else to label it.

Rhys laughed, but with a razor-sharpness that straightened her spine. Shadow unspooled around him, rippling from his form like someone had smeared charcoal along the outline of his portrait.

His voice dragged over her skin, delicate as a lover’s blade. “That sounds a bit sensationalized to my ears.”

The velvet promise in his voice, its underlying violence, raised every hair on her arm. Despite her better judgment, she said, “The best stories usually are.”

He was drifting closer. No longer propped against the wall, but standing in the middle of the street. Citygoers passed by, moving out of their way to avoid him, but he continued staring up at Feyre’s window like he didn’t notice. A great stone parting a river’s current.

“Would you allow me to buy your silence? With dinner, tonight?”

Feyre shook her head and pushed up to her full height. “I’m afraid our bargain gave you the wrong impression, High Lord. I can’t be bought.”

His mouth opened, but she shut the window with exaggerated force before she could hear his response. She hurried into the kitchen, where Nesta and Elain were both sitting at the table with raised brows that said they’d been listening to every word.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Nesta said. “If you think you have any agency with him, you’re deluding yourself.”

Elain took a long sip of her tea, not meeting Feyre’s eyes. Her silent way of saying she agreed.

They didn’t know the full truth. She let them think the same as everyone else in that tavern—that the High Lord had seen a pretty, half-human novelty and wanted to have his fun for an evening. Feyre hadn’t told them how she met the High Lord in the alleyway, how he’d saved her life and slaughtered his captain. They didn’t know that he’d discovered her daemati ability and that he hadn’t touched her, at least not the way they assumed, during those twenty-four hours she’d been subject to his will.

I have plans for you, Feyre Archeron.

Yes, she was playing a dangerous game, but one she had stumbled into unknowingly. She was in its trenches now, fumbling blindly, and she already knew she was far too deep in shit to find a way out now.

“What was I supposed to do?” Feyre demanded, relying on her temper to disguise the helplessness clawing at her. She wished Nesta could give her an answer. “Let him buy me dinner? I’m sure that would have gone over splendidly.”

Nesta set her teacup on its saucer with enough force to send the porcelain ringing. The sound speared through the room, so sharp it made Feyre’s teeth ache. “You could have kept the window shut and ignored him. You’re only indulging his game by acknowledging him.”

“He’s our High Lord, Nesta.” Feyre flung her arms out in exasperation. “I can’t just ignore him. We’re required by law to pay him our respect.”

“Oh, because that conversation was brimming with respect.”

Feyre’s temper reared. “If you know so much better than me, what would you do?”

Nesta took a moment to respond, paying the question more consideration than Feyre expected. Once she came to her decision, Nesta tipped her chin and said with quiet steel, “I would have taken his money and bought a ship that would carry us as far away from Velaris as we could get.”

And maybe… maybe that was precisely what Feyre should have done.

-

That night, Feyre dreamt of the sea, churning beneath a low sun that cast its rippling surface into a deep, honey gold. It swirled and swirled until it crashed against a wall of crystal glass and emptied down into her open mouth.

Her throat burned against its invading strength, but it warmed her chest, and she sighed, setting the crystal down on a table.

“I heard your plan for our little recruit epically crashed and burned.”

“Shut up.”

Neither of those voices belonged to her. They were deep and smooth like the golden sea refilling her glass, churning again as a broad, umber hand lifted the cup and swirled its contents.

“Cheer up. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“Leave me to drink in peace, you bastard.”

If more was said, it was lost to the bottom of the glass and the torrent of golden liquid that washed over her, its current warm as it carried her out to sea, then back to shore. The sun’s touch prickled over her skin, and she thought she heard a soft voice whisper—

Sweet dreams, Feyre.

-

Feyre was being followed.

The unsettling awareness of it skittered down her spine. She stood in line for a bakery on the corner of the Palace of Bone and Salt. It was a busy day at the market, and a glance over her shoulder betrayed only the passerby flitting between stalls.

Eyes of varying jewel and earthen tones swam past, many straying towards the palace’s largest attractions of smoked meats and spun confections. If any attention snagged on Feyre as she scanned the crowd, it was brief and largely accidental—apart from one ash-haired lesser fae, who met her stare and offered an inviting smile. That was a strange, new thing she’d become accustomed to. People treated her differently now that she was wearing handwoven clothes from the Palace of Thread and Jewels and not an oversized tunic she’d won off a sailor’s back.

With her fine sleeves covering the bargains inked onto her skin and her hair down to cover the smooth curve of her ears, Feyre looked just like any other citygoer. No one in the market was paying her any mind, but she couldn’t shake the unease coiling a knot in her gut. With a huff of air, Feyre stepped reluctantly out of line to see if anyone else abandoned their place to follow her. She earned her a few curious glances, but there was little movement aside from the few who shuffled forward to claim her spot.

That was fine. There was more than one place to get bread in the Palace of Bone and Salt, and she ambled in the direction of another stall as though she’d merely caught its scent and found its offer more tantalizing. The line was shorter, which promised the quality of the bread was less appealing, but maybe that meant it was cheaper, too.

“Good morning,” the baker chirped, standing beside her proud display of fresh bread, each wrapped lovingly in twine and wax paper.

There were other delicacies, too. The morning sun glinted off a row of glazed pastries generously dollaped with berries as vibrant as a freshly cut ruby—and nearly as expensive. Between the cost of their new apartment and the clothes they’d purchased last week, there wasn’t enough coin left over from Feyre’s bargain to afford her sweet tooth.

Just as Feyre opened her mouth to order, someone reached over her shoulder, pointing an elegant finger towards the pastries she’d been eying.

“Two of those, please,” said a male voice, deep and churning as a honeyed sea. Feyre stiffened. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d last heard that voice. “And what else were you after, darling? A loaf of bread, I presume.”

She whirled to find a familiar pair of violet eyes, half-lidded with delight. He was standing so close he needed to stare down his nose to meet her eyes.

Feyre bared her teeth at him. “Have you been following me?”

“Good morning to you, too,” he purred, slipping his coin to the baker without even counting how much he was overpaying her.

No wonder all the shopkeepers in Velaris thought so highly of him. Not that she’d been asking, of course. But in the weeks since their bargain, she had been listening more intently. Checking the tabloids if only to ensure her name didn’t end up among them. For all the gossip traded in this city like its own currency, she noticed there had been remarkably little chatter about the High Lord’s bargain with the witch of Velaris. Though if he was aiming for discretion, cornering her in the busy marketplace seemed counterintuitive to that goal.

Feyre crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

“You can be so grouchy in the morning,” he said, clicking his tongue.

The baker handed him a pastry, which he immediately offered to Feyre.

“Here, have something to eat.” When she only stared, he raised a brow. “Do I need to take a bite to prove that I haven’t poisoned it?”

The baker looked affronted by the question, which was the only reason Feyre took the damn thing from him.

“Thanks,” she said, ice dripping from her voice.

Rhys was satisfied enough by her response that he didn’t push further. With a charming smile towards the baker—the kind he flashed like he intended its recipient to begin fawning over him—he accepted the second pastry and handed Feyre a loaf of bread.

Once they were out of earshot, Feyre pushed her uneaten pastry back in his direction. “I don’t want it.”

“No?” Rhys swiped his finger through the jam in the center. It collected at his fingertip, gleaming like a pinprick of blood, and he held it an inch from her lips with a taunting smile. “Not even a taste?”

Taste, something whispered in the back of her mind, urging her to move forward, to dart her tongue across his skin. Perhaps it was a leftover cry from the child who could still remember how sugar melted on the tongue, from a time when her father used to return from his voyages with treats from faraway lands. Feyre leaned back, less from the threat of the High Lord’s fingers and more because she didn’t trust herself not to give into that wild and inexplicable impulse.

“And what will it cost me?” She demanded, stoking her anger to smother that strange ache. “Another day in your service?”

Rhys pulled his hand away. “Just your company,” he said, holding her gaze while he licked his finger clean with a long, exaggerated swipe of his tongue.

She tried not to think of the dream he’d given her on the night of their bargain, how she’d hovered over his mouth, close enough to feel his breath, and what that tongue might have done if she’d let him continue. Tried—and failed miserably.

His eyes sparked like he could see the direction of Feyre’s thoughts, despite how she triple-checked that her shields were still up.

Feyre narrowed her eyes. “My company for how long?”

“Only the time that it takes you to eat the pastry.”

Oh? It was roughly the size of her palm, but Feyre wagered she could still eat it in a single bite if she needed to.

“Fine.” She took a pointedly large bite and said around it, “But you might consider talking fast.”

If he was offended by her bad manners, he did a good job disguising it behind a laugh. “Have you considered that I simply enjoy your company, Feyre?”

She swallowed around the thick bite. “I think you like to check in on your loose ends.”

That prompted a raised brow. “Is that what you think you are?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve left my life of gambling and mind reading behind.”

“And what are you doing now?”

Feyre raised the loaf of bread in her hand. “Shopping.”

“I mean to make money.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said with an innocent hum. “But hey, worse comes to worse, I could always get a job at one of the pleasure halls. Do you think you could give me your personal recommendation?”

Rhysand’s pupils flared, and Feyre’s heart jumped into an uneven beat at the darkness she saw flickering there, accompanied by a sideways smile. “I could write you a glowing recommendation, Feyre, but I personally think that’d be a waste of your talents.”

“Oh?” She took another bite of her pastry, meeting his eyes as if to say, your window’s closing. “And what would you have me do instead?”

“You could come work for me.”

There it was.

Pushing him, she crooned, “In your bedroom?”

Rhysand gripped her chin, turning her face towards his. “Is that where you’d like to serve?”

A challenge. An offer. A threat, maybe.

Her nerve was crumbling beneath the full force of his gaze. Those eyes seared straight through her, and though she knew her mental shields were in place, she somehow felt like he could read every thought she’d ever had. Her soul laid bare to him.

She wanted to make him feel equally riled. To waver the control he so carefully laid in place. Maybe that was why she whispered to him, poisonous and sweet, “Maybe I want to sit on your throne instead.”

His fingers tightened. She’d just threatened to steal his crown, and yet he was grinning like a fiend. “That could be arranged.”

Claws raked against her mental shields, and with it, an image flashed: Feyre, with her legs spread over the arms of a dark throne, Rhysand crouched before her, his head buried in her thighs. She flinched, struggling against his hold to escape the vision. His grip was iron-tight, and he only yanked her closer, leaning in until his lips grazed the curve of her ear.

“I have been exceptionally generous with you, Feyre Archeron, and your behavior has been atrocious in return. Is it a bid for my attention, or has someone never bothered to teach you any manners?”

Feyre gritted her teeth. “Some might say it’s part of my charm.”

The back of his throat rumbled. Rhys pulled away just enough to examine her face. His eyes narrowed in on her lips and he swiped his thumb upwards, brushing away a bit of leftover jam, which he then held in front of her mouth. Waiting.

Their eyes met, and he said, “Even I am a man of limited patience, Feyre.”

She parted her lips and he pressed his thumb between them, his remaining fingers holding her firm so she couldn’t pull away. With her cheeks burning, and her eyes boring into his, she pressed her tongue to the pad of his finger and licked away the jam.

“Good girl,” he said, releasing her.

Feyre wiped at her lips like she could erase the humiliation of what she’d just been made to do. With a glare in his direction, she shoved the rest of the pastry in her mouth. Rhysand’s chest was heaving, eyes simmering at her defiance.

All she said was, “Thank you for the food, High Lord.”

Then she stalked off, trying to put as much distance between them as physically possible. Rhysand didn’t pursue—at least not from what she could see glancing over her shoulder. But the oily, uneasy feeling of being followed didn’t relent, no matter how many crowds she weaved through.

Feyre veered another corner before she decided that even if Rhys was following her, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know where she lived. It wasn’t as if she could escape him in his own damn city. With a sigh, she cut across an alley that she knew would take her back to the Palace of Bone and Salt.

She dodged a shopkeeper loading barrels into the back of her store and kitchen staff filling up buckets of water from the outdoor spigots. Their curious stares trailed her as she passed, but it loosened some of her tension to know she wasn’t alone.

Not alone, indeed. Soon, that creeping sensation cracked over her spine with the urgency of a snapping whip. She noticed the shadows lurking in her periphery before she picked up the footsteps, and Feyre whirled, prepared to give him another piece of her mind.

Except it was not Rhysand standing behind her.

Feyre barely registered this information before her body was sent barrelling into the brick wall at her back. The air knocked out of her, and she’d only had a moment to gasp when her assailant grabbed her by the throat, trapping that precious breath beneath his palms.

Black cloth covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were exposed. Hazel eyes, wild and burning as they narrowed on her, as his gloved fingers tightened against her throat. She clawed and thrashed at his grip, but he met each of her pathetic blows with unflinching strength.

“Please,” she choked.

She speared her magic towards him, only to slam into a mighty wall of cruel, vicious steel.

“You’re close with the High Lord,” he said.

Feyre shook her head.

The cloth over his cheeks shifted, and if she had to guess he was baring his teeth as he snarled, “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” she rasped.

His voice was the violent thunder rolling over a midnight sky. “You looked pretty close to me when he had his fingers in your mouth.”

Feyre kicked her legs out, shrieking her exasperation that nothing she was doing had any impact on this cold, ruthless male. She flashed her teeth at him. “And I would have bitten his fingers off for it, if he wasn’t High Lord.”

Something flickered in the male’s eyes, a certain understanding, and his fingers loosened on her throat. Feyre drew in a sharp breath, greedily sucking air back into her lungs.

“You resent him?”

Feyre held her tongue. She didn’t know who this male was, who he might be reporting back to. But her silence said enough.

He let go of her throat entirely. “Well then, how’d you like to make some coin and even your score with the High lord?”

Her interest was piqued. But so was her suspicion.

“Doing what?”

“He has something that belongs to me. Steal it back, and I’ll pay you what it’s worth.”

Feyre cocked her head. “Tell me what I’d need to steal, and I’ll consider it.”

-

Two mornings later, Feyre woke to the sound of fluttering paper, and peeled her eyes open to find a letter resting atop her bedside table.

She knew where it was from, even before she lifted the parchment to her face and found the Night Court insignia stamped at its signature—the same one she found inside Rhysand’s desk drawer. The letter was penned in elegant scrawl, though its content was meaningless to her.

Feyre D-

Feyre Dar-

Feyre Darling,

Im… Ima.. g—

The letter crumpled in her fist. With the Night Court insignia, it looked like an official letter, perhaps even a direct order from the High Lord. Elain would read it for her if she asked, but Feyre didn’t trust Rhysand not to have added something incriminating or absurd.

When she knocked on his door hours later, the letter folded and shoved into her pocket, he opened it with a smile that said he knew she’d be paying him a visit today.

“Feyre,” he purred. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She crossed her arms. “What does your letter say?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

Feyre tossed him a flat look. “Rhysand.”

“My, what a pleasant sound.” He stepped back into his entryway, gesturing to the hallway beyond. “Would you like to come in? I’d love to tempt my name from your lips a second time.” He craned his head. “Unless there’s another reason why you’ve come?”

She took a deep breath.

“I want to renew our twenty-four hour bargain.”

#Feysand #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #Feyre x Rhysand #Rhysand x Feyre #Feyre x Rhys #Rhys x feyre

[esther-dot]

So I'm going to preface this ask by saying GRRM has no obligation to finish the books and doesn't owe anyone anything. If he wants to spend every single day laying by the pool and chilling and never writing another word more power to him, I wish I could do that as well and not work lol. That being said, I think it's very unprofessional and underhanded how he has let D and D take the entire fall for the GOT ending, makes vague comments about the series ending being different (using minor characters and plotlines as an example) after the finale aired when he had spent years saying his and the show's ending would be essentially the same in terms of broad strokes before the finale happened and before he saw the major backlash. I'm sorry, but I do think he is obligated just from a basic integrity standpoint to come out and say 'Hey, I didn't finish the books and that's on me. These plots points i.e. King Bran and Dark Dani came from my notes.' But he hasn't and never will and I think this is a big contributing factor to why the fandom is so toxic. I sometimes wish D and D would come out with receipts of GRRM giving them those endpoints so the constant debate and increasingly q-anonesque meta and prediction writing can finally stop. But they're too classy to do that and I think they've fully moved on from GOT. Just my two cents.

Oh dude, I would love for D&D to just release the bullet points they got from Martin. Can you imagine the chaos?! 😂

I'm sorry, but I do think he is obligated just from a basic integrity standpoint to come out and say 'Hey, I didn't finish the books and that's on me. These plots points i.e. King Bran and Dark Dani came from my notes.' But he hasn't and never will and I think this is a big contributing factor to why the fandom is so toxic.

He can't really do that now though, can he? Maybe at one point fans would have thought that was an exciting development, but Dany was kinda treated like a feminist icon while GoT aired, and I'm surprised that even now I'll periodically see her referenced that way. If he were to confirm she was gonna go bad/die a villain, I think the ramifications for all of his books/the spin-off shows would be huge. It's his choice to not disclose more, but I think HBO must be very, very happy that he didn't own that!

Since the backlash, he's definitely tried to create more and more distance between himself and GoT which on the one hand, duh, D&D totally reinterpreted the characters and ruined the themes, on the other, he's intentionally creating the room for fans to expect something wildly different and they're gonna be bereft when we get TWOW (shhhh, yes we will). So, I don't think he's obligated to tell us what was his, what was D&D's, (for all we know, they could have had discussions and agreements about all that), but I have qualms about some of his post s8 statements.

If Martin had done what you suggested, I would have admired that so much though! It would have been a way for him to show how much he appreciates and respects his book fans who have had such faith in him during the long wait.

#grrm critical #anti daenerys #dot chat #< for filtering

[whumpwillow]

trope: humiliation character: royal whumpee

Oh nooo, I watched too many Game of Thrones and HOTD to think up of something original, I think this trope is such an already explored area that risks to borderlines RPF... BUT I'LL TRY LETS SEE

CW : ITS F ING LONG | Humiliation(Obviously) | Torture | Degrading | Furniture Whump

A royal Whumpee was one of the youngest heir to a failed crown that has fallen to an armed rebellion by a new dynasty. It's not like Whumpee was directly responsible for how the last monarch managed the realm or how the system failed the people, but Whumper has planned the rebellion well, awful rumors that made the commoners scared with Whumpee already spread long before any violence broke out. Abandoned and alone, Whumpee becomes the target of contempt and hatred at every turn.

Another thing is that by the time the smoke of war clears, they're the last surviving symbol of the previous royal line, and the next guy in NEED the kingdom to know they're not in charge anymore. Mere floggings or degrading parades would not suffice. The message must transcend borders, reaching neighboring kingdoms and former allies, acknowledging that the last ruling dynasty is DONE. And Whumper know just how to make a scene that crosses borders.

Caretaker is a diplomat sent by one of the kingdom's former allied state. Whumper had finally opened communication to their realm, and its their job to attend the court to re-establish connections. They have heard that the Whumpee is still alive(which is a good news, as Whumpee shares a bloodline connection with Caretaker's own monarch) What they didn't expect is that they would be standing beside Whumper in the negotiation room with other envoys, completely silent and broken, wearing robe that bears the symbol of their house.

As Whumper welcomed all of the foreign guest, a guard callously strips away Whumpee's robe, revealing a body marred by hundreds of bruises, cuts, and burn mark. They forced them to crawl as Whumper used them as a chair throughout the talk. Throughout ALL talks, in the duration of Caretaker's stay. Caretaker's home kingdom is desperate to keep Whumpee alive, and Whumper knows it. It is a simple matter to injure Whumpee every time the any former allies brought up terms that Whumper didn't like, sometimes forcing Whumpee to beg, bring the envoys their pens or lick their boots, or maybe flog them until the disagreeing party concede.

Other envoys are appalled but find themselves trapped by the exigencies of forging strategic alliances and securing crucial trade agreements. Caretaker had to juggle between appeasing whumper and other diplomats, strategizing and compromising here and there to keep the discussions brief to keep spare Whumpee from prolonged negotiations, becoming Whumper's unwilling political advantage. Just as planned.

[I'M SO FUCKING SORRY I CANT WRITE AND IT ENDED UP INTO A POLITICAL FANTASY I COMMITED A CRIME]

Haha its not a crime don’t worry 😂 and a trope can never be explored too much. Have you explored it to the depth that you are satisfied? No? Then it’s not too much ✌🏻 also this is such a tasty scenario omg, what with whumper using whumpee as a bargaining chip in the negotiations with caretaker

#whump #whump prompt #willow answers #answered asks #whump prompts #whumpee #whump tropes #royalty whump #royal whump #royal whumpee #royal whumper

[qvnthesia]

Obviously not scientific at all, but since the Mikaelsons are pretty split between blonde and brunette, do you think Dahlia's spell had anything to do with it? Like magic and creation can't come out of nowhere so what if her genetics or ability to have children were somehow involved in Esther being able to have children?

Huh, well, to be honest - this does warrant a biiiiit of science 😂 (tw: mentions of/allusions to possible incest)

Before answering, I'd just like to state that magic and science are like, related, of sorts. Magic is a science and science is simply magical.

With that said, in the TVDU universe, we've observed that the Mikaelsons are either blond/blondes or brunet/brunettes. We have Freya and Rebekah on the blonde side, which is a clear genetic inheritance from Esther. Elijah, Kol, Finn, and Henrik are on the brunet side, which comes from Mikael since the children I've mentioned so far are canonically Esther and Mikael's biological children. Klaus, on the other hand, definitely got his hair from Esther since it's canon (as per the TVDU wiki) that Ansel's hair is light brown.

Now, what you're saying about Dahlia's spell affecting their genetics is a very likely possibility - but not because of the spell, exactly. I'd say 50% spell, and 50% genetics.

How so? Well, Esther and Dahlia are blood siblings. It's safe to assume that one of their parents was light-haired and the other was dark-haired - hence Esther is blonde and Dahila is brunette. Now, when Esther pleaded for Dahila's help, obviously a spell to allow child-bearing and conception would require blood to - you know - ensure the terms of their agreement remain unbroken. So, I'm guessing Dahlia and Esther made a blood pact, which went totally to Dahlia's advantage, of course. Thanks to the blood pact, whatever genetics Dahlia inherited, the same traits were passed down to the dark-haired Mikaelson children which Esther conceived.

The probability of the genetics inherited by Dahlia being passed through the Mikaelson children is 85% likely. This is because, according to canon, Mikael has light brown/blond hair. The only person who comes close to having inherited Mikael's hair is Finn, who was conceived prior to the enactment of Dahlia's spell. The rest of the Mikaelson males that followed (Elijah, Kol and Henrik) have hair colors that are eerily similar to Dahlia's hair color - and they were conceived after the spell came into effect.

So, to answer your question - hell yeah. I think Dahlia and her genetic traits have most certainly passed down the Mikaelson children - which is genuinely a very uncanny observation, come to think of it.

Correlating their personalities, I can very well see Dahlia's hunger for power in Kol and her way with words in Elijah (with Esther's influence mixing in). Not to mention, her ruthlessness is reflected in Freya, not even considering the horrifying treatment she subjected her niece to. The siblings least affected by the conception spell are Finn, Rebekah (she mostly goes by Mikael), and Henrik (he'd definitely go after Esther and Mikael, but would follow Klaus more - hence turning out different). Klaus may seem similar to Dahlia, but that's just because of decades of paranoia ingrained by his woefully long existence. Otherwise, Klaus is definitely not like Dahlia at all, and is definitely least affected by the conception spell.

Now that I think about it, this theory just blows my mind. At this point, Esther's just created an incest fest where Dahlia can also be considered as a possible biological mother to Elijah, Rebekah, Kol and Henrik. There's a possibility that Klaus might come under this too, but I think his werewolf genetics definitely make him the exception to this. But, taking the previous thing into account, that definitely would make both Esther and Dahila as mothers to Elijah, Rebekah, Kol and Henrik 😵‍💫🤯

#tw: mentions of possible incest #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #henrik mikaelson #finn mikaelson #freya mikaelson #the originals #esther mikaelson #mikael mikaelson #qvnthesia's asks #fic inspo #sevensistersofsussex #tw: mentions of incest

[a-simple-life-23]

Love & InSIMplicity (25)

About a month had passed since Cassandra’s rendezvous with Lou, she hadn’t actually gotten a chance to see him again with how crazy her semester at university was. Between homework and term papers, she barely had enough time to eat and sleep!

It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Lou’s part, he did send her a couple “u up? ;)” texts but she just didn’t feel comfortable with the whole hook up thing after all, she knew it wouldn’t make her happy.

Luna saw her kind of moping around and called her into her little study closet and sat her down, “you know, you could always call Caleb again. I know you said you felt you had good chemistry with him”

Cassandra thought about it, she did have a good time on her date and he did mention he was interested in a long term relationship. But was she really ready to date? Lou was a one day rollercoaster and the text Wolfgang has sent her threw her off, was he at the club that night?

Cassandra’s head started spinning for a moment. She was lonely, it would be nice to go on dates and have companionship. She nodded her head in agreement with Luna, maybe she’ll call Caleb after all. Suddenly her stomach started growing, “speaking of never having time to eat..”

Cassandra headed to the kitchen to grab some leftovers for lunch, right as she opened the door a putrid smell smacked her right in the nostrils and a wave of nausea immediately overtook her. Luckily she made it to the toilet on time, it was definitely times like this she missed Wolfgang’s cooking 😂

#sims4 stories #sims 4 #my sims #cassandra goth #luna villareal #love&insimplicty

[latetaektalk]

Just caught up to LTHY and wow😭😭😭 JK is such a cutie and I loved the way u characterized him, he’s literally a puppy, but it’s so cute and warm to see him never falter w his attempts at gaining y/n’s affection

This is one of my fave couples in fics ever, I really love how this story is unfolding

I was a bit frustrated with y/n withholding so much from JK or just being difficult in general, but I love their dynamic of her always brushing him off and he continues and just continues to show her love

And I love how she’s slowly coming to terms with her feelings for him, but why does she keep doubting jks “real” feelings for her, obviously they are in this agreement, but why would he go out of his way to say he loves her and is in love with her, especially when they are alone by themselves usually when he randomly confesses his feelings!!! I love how frustrated they make me😂🫶

Also the bathroom guy🥲🥲 I wonder when JK is gonna tell her that it’s him, bc that was actually so cute😭😭 idk who I expected it to be, but finding out they had already made a connection warmed my heart

This is such a good fic, thank you for writing it🫶

Do you have an updating schedule or a general timeline of when we could expect something (no rush/pressure, just wanna prepare myself in case I have to wait 2 years to see y/n meet jks parents😂)

AHHHH this ask has been sitting in my inbox for SOOOO long because i genuinely didnt even know where to begin :(( this is so so cute!! thank you so much 😭 im so happy you love lthy you so much!!!! and even more so that you like jkay's characterisation 💕 cute sweet patient hopeless romantic! jungkook has always been my favourite!! but yeah oc is definitely giving him a hard time HAHA shes not making it easy on him at all, but so far jk really has been nice to her!!

i honestly think it makes sense that oc is so suspicious. aside from the fact that shes had,,,,, bad experiences with ppl similar to jk cough jaehwa cough she also just met jk. like lets not forget that all of this is happening in a span of roughly eight weeks!! its a lot! oc barely knows whats real or not, especially with how much theyve blurred the lines in the past few weeks and gone way beyond what they initially agreed to!! but hihi good to know that i can make you feel frustrated haha because oh my god im equally as frustrated by them 🤧🤧

and oh god i wish i had a consisten upload schedule, but i rarely even get enough sleep these days 💀 i gotta be honest these two or so weeks ive been absolutely stressed bc of class so really im not sure when the next chapter will drop. the moment i do, you guys will be first to know!! i promise!!

also what makes yall think that jk is bathroom guy omg who said that!!!!!

#fic: love to hate you #linh.ask #linh.anon

[emerella72]

Advice from the Moon Goddess Selene PAC

Hi guys so this is my first PAC. Since on the 14 was the Full Moon in Sagittarius; I thought it would be a cute idea to do a PAC on advice Selene would give you. Selene is one of the many gods/goddess's that I work with. This really was fun thing to make and I'm looking forward to making more. PS this is an intuitive reading if it doesn't resonate; Leave it.

Anyway here are the piles:

1~2~3

Pile 1: 

Seven of Wands, The Star, Knight of Wands, Queen of Swords, Five of Pentacles and King of Wands 

The message for you pile 1 is don’t be too stubborn, open your heart and let people in.  

Okay Pile 1 this is my spirited group.  Some of you love to argue.  I’m sensing that some of you are either debate leaders, future politicians and/or activists.  Damn I'm so in awe of you guys.  Y’all are badasses lol.  

But I also sense this fear; fear of loneliness to be exact (I’m guessing some of you were abandoned, maybe by family).  Selene is telling you to not be scared.  You are not alone.  Pile 1 you have a wonderful support system.  I’m talking about friends, colleges, maybe teachers or bosses.  You guys have people that would go to the end of the earth for you.  That is amazing; I’m actually tearing up.  I keep hearing the quote “friends are the family you choose”. That quote fits perfectly with this pile. 

Selene is telling you to be open with these people.  Some of you are closed off due to fear of being hurt again.  These people aren’t going to hurt you.  They love and respect you and they want to be there for you.  They aren’t going to judge you.  They genuinely want to help you.  So Pile 1 let these people in and open yourself to them.  Dammit Pile 1 just let them HUG YOU ALREADY LOL.

Pile 2:

Seven of Cups, The World, Eight of Cups, Ace of Swords, The Moon and Three of Wands.

So the message I’m getting for you is the possibilities are endless but be cautious; Things are not as they seem.

Pile 2 the opportunities are coming in fast for y’all. Someone has been busy manifesting. Omg wait the Full Moon was in Sagittarius and Sags are all about travel and expansion. Just made that connection 😂😂

So pile 2 I’m getting that for the most of you that either you’re moving or going on a long vacation. For a small amount of you; you’re getting a new job. This is something that you guys have been working towards for a long time. (Some of y'all have been working at this for 2 to 3 years it seems).

Even though this is something that you guys definitely want, Selene is telling you to not be too hasty. She knows that you’re excited; but she’s warning you that there are going to be some bumps in the road. She wants you to be vigilant. Remember to read all major documents especially if you are one of the people moving. READ your rental agreements people. For the people traveling; Make sure you have your passports and visas in date.

This might be a very specific message for someone but I NEED to share. If you are one of the people getting a new job, reread your contract. Just double check if those are the terms you agreed upon with your new employer.

Pile 2, Selene is seeing happiness for all of you. She just wants you to be a little cautious and to protect yourself from being lied to.

Pile 3:

Strength, the sun, Page of wands, knight of swords, king of cups and the hierophant

The message for you is: A new relationship is coming, be excited.

Well hello to my romance pile. Pile 3 I don’t know if you guys are planning on having a romantic relationship this year but what I can say is that it’s a BIG possibility. For the people who aren’t looking for a romantic relationship this might be a new friend coming or a new mentor.

Pile 3 the person who is coming into your life is the sweetest human being. Their energy is off the charts. They’re a literal ray of sunshine. It feels like they might be the complete opposite of you. Like they’re the Sun and you’re the Moon. I’m getting great vibes from this pile.

These people are gonna be such a great influence on you pile 3. Like they’re gonna make sure you're eating, sleeping and drinking your water. They’re the type of people to scold you while hugging or cuddling you. These people are also active. They’re very much one with nature. They might be into hiking or rafting?!?. (Idk man whatever is outdoorsy). The one thing I know is they wanna drag you along with them. They wanna go EVERYWHERE with you. They’re giving me Golden Retriever vibes.

Basically Selene is telling you to be with this person. She approves 100%. I don’t feel comfortable saying this is your soulmate. This is someone with an impact on your life. Definitely a good impact. I’m not really seeing any negative energy surrounding this relationship. But I’m seeing some anxiety. I am saying that this is you pile 3. Selene wants you to know that it's okay to be nervous but know that you are gonna grow so much with this person by your side. You are going to go through an evolution of some sort. This person is going to teach you how to let go and be free. To smell the roses. Basically to heal your inner child.

Pile 3 this person is pure light. There is nothing to be afraid of. Selene wants you to enjoy this person and the new experiences that they’re gonna take you on.

#pick a pile #pick a card #pac #tarotblr #tarot #witchblr #this took me forever to do 😭😭 #but I loved every second of it #love reading #advice reading #greek mythology #selene

[acourtofthought]

I always enjoy reading your posts and I usually comment as much 😂

I’m curious since I also think that Az/Gwyn and Elain/Lucien will be together…how do you think SJM will write AZ moving on from Mor? I interpreted Az and Elain as kind of rebounding but I really don’t want those vibes to translate to Gwynriel. Im just curious if you had any thoughts on how that could be done. Also, Mor is still a mystery to me btw!

Hello @thatsthewayshegoesagain!

Thank you for the message and comments! 😊

I am in complete agreement. Az and Elain definitely read as a rebound and while it doesn't necessarily seem to have been a positive experience for either one, I think it was healthy for them because it shows they're both willing to try to move forward. Obviously Mor / Az and Elain / Graysen were never meant to be but I don't think it can be denied that Az really did love Mor and Elain really loved Graysen and letting go of your first love is difficult. You would never want to jump into another intense and serious relationship before you've really had time to move on from that first love and I don't really think that Az or Elain were there yet when they developed an interest in one another. But, since (in my opinion) the POV closed the door on E/riel, it served its purpose in helping them come to terms to a life without Mor and Graysen. Not completely, but enough that they can really start to understand why those first loves might not have been right for them.

I do think Az's book is going to start with him finally acknowledging how difficult it's been for him to really accept that he and Mor aren't going to ever be a thing. And I think "THE" conversation with Mor is finally going to happen. Az might have started the process of letting her go but I think her coming out to him is going to free him of any lingering hope. I think once he gets that clarity, he'll be able to acknowledge that he's maybe had some subconscious awareness of Mor's preference for quite awhile and I really do think that's all going to put him in a place of seeing what is in front of him with Gwyn.

I don't think you have to worry about their relationship being tainted because SJM did a good job of having Feyre deal with her past with Tamlin before really bringing in her emotions for Rhys and I think Gwynriel will be like that but flip flopped, where Gwyn may have suspected that she and Az were something though she wanted to give him time to work through things (in the way Rhys did with Feyre).

Gwyn doesn't strike me as a character who would feel put out over the realization that Az was going through some stuff and wasn't immediately head over heels for her. I think those kinds of feelings would all be so new to her too that she'd want things to move at a comfortable pace for herself as well.

I also feel like SJM is starting Mor on a path which takes her away from the NC more regularly which would a good thing. Regardless of how moved on Az is from Mor, you don't necessarily want that constant reminder for Gwyn.

#pro gwynriel #gwynriel #azriel acotar #mor acotar

[aew-kun-age-regression]

What classifications would you give the teen wolf characters?? (🧁)

Ooo hiii 🧁!!! Okay please bear with me here I don't know all the characters yet so if I'm missing someone you want please let me know!!! <33 also all sense of timeline went out the window for this.

Scott Mccall ~ Flip. I think Scott leans more towards a caregiver role more frequently however if he's had a particularly hard day at school/or dealing with the supernatural he can fall into the regression role. When it comes to watching people he normally watches Stiles, Isaac, Theo, Liam, Allison or Kira. He's a very energetic caregiver who will 100% run around with Regressors! Funnily enough I think when regressed he has lots of energy however I do think he'd be quite calm despite this. If he's taken to a park he will run around and let all that energy out but he also recognises when a good time to be that energetic is. When regressed I think he'd be in the 6-7 age range. His regression would be involuntary.

Stiles Stilinski ~ Flip. Like Scott I think Stiles is also a flip however where as Scott is normally in a caregiver role it's the opposite for Stiles. He's normally a Regressor however sometimes taking on a caregiving role is helpful for him. His regression can be voluntarily or involuntarily. When he regresses involuntarily he usually goes to a younger age. (about 3) When voluntarily regressed he's normally in the 5-6 age range. This kiddo has so much energy!!! For primary caregivers I think Noah, Derek and Scott. But honestly every Caregiver in the pack looks after him. In a caregiver role he'd normally watch over Scott, Lydia and Malia, (on occasion he watches over Liam.) With Stiles as a caregiver there's either a list of rules or no rules. There is absolutely no in-between. (Any rules that are out in place are there for a good reason 😌)

Isaac Lahey ~ Regressor. (Oh boy here I go 😂) I definitely only see Isaac as a regressor. I think his regression would be involuntary and caused because of his dad and the supernatural stuff. I think he'd regress the youngest out of everyone. Normally he regresses to about the 1-4 age range. He speaks in very short, mostly one worded sentences. The people he likes look after him when small are Derek, Scott, Melissa, Chris and sometimes Peter or Noah. The other regressors he likes to play with are Stiles, Scott, Erica and Malia. (Although him and Malia have different interests normally, if she's particularly young the two like to babble to each other.) He is comfortable with Deaton watching him if no one else is able to. (Deaton has access to dogs so that's enough bribery for him. 😂🤷)

Derek Hale ~ Caregiver. I absolutely see Derek as a caregiver and he doesn't take that job lightly. (And by that I mean I pretty much am happy with hims look after anyone 😂)

His favourite people to look after are Stiles, Isaac, Erica and Scott. He's looked after Allison and Malia on a few rare occasions and he did genuinely have a lot of fun with both of them. He's a very run caregiver but he's also not massively energetic. He will gladly take the littles to the park and play with them but it's unlikely he will be running around too much. However give him paints, pens, makeup, nail polish? He'll gladly sit there and do things like that indoors. When it comes to communicating with other caregivers he quite likes talking to Melissa and Noah. He doesn't mind Chris (y'know once they kind of come to an agreement to be on okay terms with each other 😂)

Allison Argent ~ Flip. I think that it's 50/50 with Allison if she's regressed or in a caregiver headspace. If she wants to look after people she mainly looks after, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia and Scott. When small these are also the people she loves hanging out with!!! She has the best okay dates with them!!! When regressed I think her age range would be 7-9. She's a big girl. 😌 Her favourite people to watch over her is her dad or Lydia!!! <33

Lydia Martin ~ Flip. She is definitely a caregiver lean. She loves looking after the pack, she is willing to look after anyone!!! When regressed I think she'd be in the 5-6 age range. She's very private about her regression. Not everyone in the pack even knows she regresses. Allison knows, the two of them hang out when regressed!!! Ali is her big sister and takes good care of her!!! Stiles also knows and has taken care of her a few times. Jackson also knows and loves looking after her. The only other person who knows is Peter. (He found out by accident but Lydia doesn't mind too much as he's the only person who knows that's solely a caregiver.)

Kira Yukimura ~ Little. Age range wise I think she'd be about 4-5. She likes hanging out with Scott (when he's big or small she doesn't mind!) Lydia is one of her favourites of the caregivers. {I don't know much about her so I don't really have a lot to say about her 😅}

Theo Raeken ~ Flip. I think he'd be a caregiver lean. He likes the caregiver role as it helps him feel responsible (he likes being able to have a positive effect on people ❤️)

He isn't very open about his regression. I think only Scott, Stiles, Liam and Noah would know. Age range wise id say he doesn't have one, his regression is completely involuntary and is because of trauma. He just wants to make up for his childhood. 🥹😭

As a caregiver his favourite people to watch over are Liam and Stiles.

When regressed he only really likes Scott watching over him.

Liam Dunbar ~ Little. He is baby. 3-5 age range. He's super clingy when regressed. He has quite a few tantrums and I feel like he'd get really upset if he was struggling to speak (it could stop him from communicating and that can make him angry. ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ) Everyone loves Liam. Anyone will look after him!!! Theo is his primary Caregiver. (Scott and Stiles have also watched over him, they're normally his babysitters.) He has 100% called Scott Dad and Stiles Mum at some point! When regressed his favourite other Regressors to hang out with are Stiles, Isaac and Malia. (They can all regress quite young and so they all like to babble and hang out with each other.) Nap times!!! >>>

Malia Tate/Hale ~ Regressor. She doesn't have a set age range, she is missing 8 years of her childhood. Her regression is involuntary. Peter, Derek, and Noah look after her!!! (Lydia is a babysitter who Malia really likes watching over her!!!) She likes to play with Stiles, Isaac and Liam!!!

Melissa Mccall ~ Caregiver. She's a mum through and through!!! She normally watches over Scott, Stiles or Isaac the most. She is so protective over any little she watches over!!!

Noah Stilinski ~ Caregiver. Like Melissa, he's a parent. He's happy to watch over any of the littles, however he normally looks after Stiles, Isaac, Malia. And on occasion if he's comfortable with it Theo. (Mainly during the night, especially if Theo is brought into the police station.)

Chris Argent ~ Caregiver. Again a parent. He mainly watched over Allison if she's regressed or Isaac. He has babysat Scott a handful of times but only on rare occasions.

Peter Hale ~ Caregiver. Parent. He looks after Malia, Stiles and Isaac mainly. He also babysits the other Regressors if need be. (He has baby sat Lydia on more than one occasion by pure accident and the two have an unsaid agreement to just not mention it )

Erica Reyes ~ Regressor. Smol kiddo, probably about 4-5 years old. She likes hanging out with Isaac and Stiles!!! Derek watches over her the most!!!

Allan Deaton ~ Caregiver/Babysitter. Hes everyone's number 1 choice of babysitter!!! 😂 His favourite Regressor to look after is Scott however he looks after anyone. He normally watches Scott, Isaac and Stiles when they are hanging out all together.

Jackson Whitmore ~ Flip. Right. Here me out on this. I feel like it's a typical 'bully' story. He acts tough but in reality he'd be a Regressor lean!!! He only really looks after Lydia when she regresses and that isn't normally very often. He often ends up regressed but no one really knows.. I feel like he would be embarrassed about his regression despite all and any support given. 😭

#agere blog #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #sfw little post #little space #agere little #aewlittlerambles #sfw little community #teen wolf agere #teen wolf age regression #aewlittleheadcannons #pack classifications #agere classifications

[jahayla-parker]

Hi, I’m Ellie :) can I please request Harry Holland x reader please thank you! Your such a good writer, absolutely amazing. The reader bumps into him somehow when he is with Tom and his brothers. They are all out after a day of work, They went to this cafe, where Harry sees you alone. He thinks your cute, his brothers encourage him to go talk to you. And he comes to sit next to you. He has good chat and flirty banter with you. Eventually, you trade numbers. You can add or make some changes if you like but the basic line is Harry likes you! Thank you so much 🥰

Hi Ellie! Thank you for the super sweet words and support 💝 Also, thank you for sending in another request! I hope you like it 😊 P.s. I started this from Harry’s POV and you’ll see why 😍

Warnings:

Probably typos as I did this on my phone while traveling. I’ll try to edit later!

Use of description as “fit” is used as British slang version meaning attractive not physically fit

May need to use Google to look up some slang terms? Is that a warning?😂 you can see some here and some others here

Note: names of cafes are made up and are not representing any actual places or the quality of their food/drinks!

Lush Mint Bistro: Harry Holland X Reader

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Harry’s POV:

“Mate we are not going there” Paddy tells Tom as they enter the car, Sam behind them. Sam sits up front next to me and rolls his eyes when we make eye contact. “What are they arguing about?” I ask, turning the key in the ignition to start the car. “Tom wants to go to Cafe Lillabell but Paddy wants to go to Nimpson Coffee and Bakery” Sam shrugs.

It isn’t surprising Sam and I have a lot in common, after all, we’re twins and are super close. Everyone assumes we’re the exact same but there are plenty of things we disagree on. However, the one absolute thing that we can always agree on, is that Tom has the worst taste when it comes to tea and coffee. “Cafe Lillabell? Really?” I ask and Sam nods and rolls his eyes.

“Tom, no, we’re so not doing Cafe Lillabell. Their tea is seriously minging bruv” I groan, pulling the car out of mum and dad’s driveway. “Ha! Nimpson it is!” Paddy cheers and through the rear view mirror I can see him fist pump the air. “You guys are such tea snobs” Tom groans. “I literally got food poisoning from there mate” Sam says, joining the conversation.

“Okay but Nimpson isn’t great either” Tom argues. I shake my head as I turn left. “Where are you headed? We haven’t agreed yet” Paddy says, noticing how far we’ve gone. “Lush Mint Bistro” I say, expecting all of my brothers to argue with my decision. I’m fully prepared to pull the ‘I’m the driver so I decide where we go’ card on them when Sam nods his head in agreement with my choice.

“Lush Mint Bistro is good” Sam says, turning to look at Tom and Paddy. “It was good when Harry worked there, yes” Tom admits, still pondering his decision. Not that it really matters, I’m craving this chocolate pastry that is only available there so the decision’s already been made. “But he doesn’t work there anymore” Tom adds in disagreement.

“Why are you talking about me in third person?” I laugh as I turn my blinker on to switch lanes. “Shut up you twit” Tom whines. “I’m just saying, you don’t work there anymore so we don’t know if it is still good” he rebuts. He’s partially correct. I had worked there as a server a few years ago but am now working as his personal assistant and videographer/photographer. It is a more upscale bistro and is mostly a “sit-down” style restaurant. Therefore, Maxwell the owner would have us servers be in charge of making the non-specialized teas, coffees, etc. so that the cooks/pastry chefs could focus on the specialized or custom drinks and handle making all the bakery items.

So Tom is correct that we don’t truly know how the tea will taste since I’m not the one working. But, the bistro’s reputation with locals and tourists still stands; and there’s a reason for that. “Div, I learned how to make it based on Damien’s guidance and I’m pretty sure he still works there as the manager now” I defend, trying to focus on correctly navigating to the cafe as it’s been awhile since I’ve driven there. “Mmmppfft, fine” he says, making a weird exasperated sound.

“Finally. You lot are exhausting. It’s just tea” Paddy mumbles and I look at him through the rear view mirror and notice he’s been on his phone this whole time. “You started it” Sam laughs. “I just didn’t want rubbish food and drink” Paddy remarks, making eye contact with me through the mirror. “I wasn’t expecting Tom to be all cheesed off” he shrugs and laughs at having caused Tom to glare at him. I laugh and move my eyes back to the road in front of us. “Let’s just move on” Sam says in an attempt to shut them up.

“Mate you’d have to spend an arm and a leg to get that car” Paddy says suddenly. I look to the back through the mirror while Sam turns to face them. From the rear view mirror I see Tom is showing Paddy something on his phone. Tom notices Sam and I watching and hands Sam his phone. “Paddy’s right but she’s a beaut” Sam sighs, turning the phone to show me. I momentarily turn my head to look at it before back at the road, “is that a Bugatti?”. “The Bugatti La Voiture Noire to be precise” Tom corrects, grabbing his phone from Sam as I pull into the car park.

“If you buy it, do I get to drive you around in it?” I ask gleefully. I know he’s probably just daydreaming about the car. Even though he’s made a lot of money off Spider-Man and his other films, he’s not a big spender. To be honest, none of us really are when it comes to big purchases like that. Tom laughs and unbuckles, “I’m not actually buying a car for eighteen million pounds. And if I were, no you wouldn’t be driving it”. I jokingly pout as I get out of the car.

“Harry! How are you?” Damien asks the second we walk in the door. He’s standing at the front podium in his uniform and a huge smile on his face. “I’m good mate! How are you?” I smile back. “Hunky-dory. Are you lads eating here or to go?” He asks, opening his note pad. I turn to face my brothers to ask if they wanted to take it home or get a table. But as I do, my eyes notice this smashingly beautiful girl and I freeze, my body part way between Damien and the boys.

“Here’s great” Sam laughs, punching my arm to get my attention. I whip my head around and feel heat rushing to my face. “Alright” Damien smirks and grabs a few menus and walks us to the seating area. “She is fit” Tom whispers and I groan. They caught me and are now not going to let this go. “Is here okay?” Damien asks and the boys stifle a laugh causing me to look around and notice he is seating us directly across the aisle from her. I glare at him and take a seat.

“I’ll be back in a bit” Damien laughs as he sets our menus down and walks off. The boys take their seats and are all smirking at me. “Could you not do that? All I did was look at her, it doesn’t warrant that” I sigh, shaking my head. Maybe if I don’t look at her again they’ll leave it alone. But my mind decides to torture me by instead replaying what I saw earlier. Her y/h/c hair is in the most wicked curls. I’m not sure if the curls are natural like mine or not; but she certainly knows how to keep them healthy either way. The curls perfectly frame her face and rest softly on her shoulders in perfectly conditioned coils.

“Baz” I hear someone say and her image disappears from my mind. Finally, I mean she can’t be that pretty anyways, my mind is just romanticizing it… right? “Hmm yeah?” I ask, focusing back on the boys. “Harry you’re clearly enamored by her. Go chat her up” Sam says with a mocking but encouraging smile. I shake my head. If she really is as beautiful as my brain is recalling, she’s way out of my league. It’s unfair how the red lipstick she has on makes her lips even more defined and full. It’s brutal how her y/e/c eyes manage to shine so bright I could see it across the bistro when she smiled at her friend. Oh Lord, her smile. Her- “Mate, you’re doing it again. Just go over there” Tom laughs.

I groan and rest my head in my hands. “Sorry,” I sigh, shaking my head as if that’ll send the mental images of her out of my brain, “I’m good now.” The boys laugh and seemingly disagree yet don’t say anything as they go back to their menus. “No, you know you don’t get to touch my camera” I hear someone say, causing me to look up and towards the sound. When I do, I notice the voice was her’s. She’s not British? Where is she from? It sounded like an American accent but I wasn’t paying enough attention. Wait… did she mention her camera? Is she a photographer too?!

“Fine, I’ll do it on my phone instead” her friend laughs. “I’m sorry y/f/n but I’ve already had to replace the lens twice and the whole DSLR body once from friends dropping it. Plus, we’re on the other side of the ocean so I couldn’t even replace it and I need it for work” she apologizes. No one other than a photographer or videographer would know those terms and go through replacing all of that. And she needs it for work? She has to be a photographer. I mentally groan, it would be a lot easier if she was rude or boring. That way I could just go on with my day. But instead, she seems really nice and has similar hobbies and interests which only makes her more attractive.

“Earth to Baz” Paddy laughs. I glare across the table at him. “We had to order for you because you were in a whole other world you Div” Sam chuckles. “Why won’t you go introduce yourself?” Tom asks, setting his phone down. “Because, she’s too-” I begin, finally allowing myself to look over at her. God, my brain wasn’t exaggerating, she’s stunning. “Too what?” Sam interjects and it’s only then that I realize I stopped mid sentence. “Pretty” I admit, running my hand through my hair. “Baz, come on, you’re a great looking lad, go on over” Tom encourages. I give him a thankful smile but still argue, “have you seen her though?”

The boys laugh and Paddy responds “mate, of course we have, you won’t stop goggling at her”. I blush and sigh. I should talk to her, I don’t want to miss my shot at any minor chance I may have with her. “I don’t even know what to say to her” I admit. “Anything is better than sitting here” Sam jokes, pushing my shoulder. I sigh and nod, raking my brain for something to say. “You could always use a pickup line” Tom says. I roll my eyes, “I’m not doing that. That’s not my thing and she seems like the type to not fall for that anyways “.

Before the boys can respond, I hear her laughing and I instantly melt at the sound. She has the most heartwarming laugh I’ve ever heard. I unconsciously smile to myself upon hearing it and I’m sure the boys are mocking me but I don’t care. I have to talk to her. I look over to her table desperately trying to find a justification to go over; even a tiny one would do. “Are you sure Y/N?” her friend asks. Y/N hmm? That’s really fitting. I take a deep breath and even though I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, I keep listening in order to hopefully find a conversation starter I can join in on.

“Yes I’m sure, the book clearly says right here that’s the British slang for making out” she Y/N says, pointing at a thin book she has on the table. “Oh Baz is done for. They’re talking about snogging while we all know Baz has been daydreaming about doing exactly that with her since we walked in” Paddy says under his breath and laughs. I glare at him, “knock it off. I just want to ask her out and see where it goes”. “So do it!” Tom exclaims, standing up.

My eyes widen, “what’re you doing?”. “Stand up” he says. For some unknown reason I comply and slowly stand up from my seat. Tom comes over and starts adjusting my hair and clothes. I groan as I realize why he’s doing this. “Tom I appreciate the help but I still haven’t figured out what to say” I sigh. “Baz just-” he begins but Y/N’s friend’s voice cuts him off. “Y/N, there’s no way that people here still say necking instead of making out” she laughs. “I know, it sounds old fashioned for sure, but that’s what it says” Y/N defends, pushing the book to her friend. I smile to myself, I think I found an entrance. It’s not a great one, but it could work.

“Why don’t you go clarify?” Tom suggests, seemingly reading my mind. I nod, “I also thought that”. He straightens my shirt again before literally pushing me in her direction. I take a few shaky steps as I regain my balance from the push. Here goes nothing… “Hi, my name is Harry” I say as I reach their table. Somehow she’s even more gorgeous up close.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Y/N’s POV:

I’m slowly dragging my fingers down the page as I look to find any other slang we haven’t heard of so far. “Hi, my name is Harry” I hear someone say causing me to look up. I instantly notice how cute he is, his bouncy curls poking all the sides of his face as he smiles nervously at me. “Hi Harry, I’m Y/N, and this is Y/F/N” I say pointing to her.

“I hope it’s okay, I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing British slang terms” he says, his British accent thick and coating each word like honey. I bite my lip and nod, embarrassed that it’s clear we’re not from here. Granted the accent gives it away but now it’s clear we’ve not been here long either. He laughs softly, “well I just wanted to clarify that necking does technically mean making out”. He blushes before continuing, “but it’s mostly the elderly that use that term. Most people call it snogging”.

“I told you this book wasn’t going to help” I sigh, pushing the book Y/F/N insisted on buying from the airport towards her. “Thank you” I say, making the mistake of looking up at the boy Harry. He has the most contagious smile and, are those dimples?! “It’s no big deal” he says, smiling more. I try to take a deep breath but it’s like the air has all been emptied from my lungs. “Are you here on holiday?” he asks. Holiday, that term I know, we just call it vacation instead.

“Actually, no. We just moved here” I say, reminding myself not to give too much information. He may be the most attractive person I’ve seen, which is saying something given we’re in the UK and surrounded by gorgeous men with amazing accents. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a stranger still. His eyes widen a bit, “in that case, maybe you and I could meet here tomorrow for some tea and I can help you with learning the terminology?”

“Oh, I actually don’t drink tea” I say and mentally slap myself. Was he just asking me out? And if so, did I really just respond by saying oh I don’t drink tea?! Y/F/N kicks me under the table and raises her eyebrows at me, “clueless” she says as she ‘coughs’ to cover it up. If Harry wasn’t looking at me I would’ve glare at her and rolled my eyes. Instead, I bite my lip and look up, trying to think how to remedy my blunder.

“O-okay. I understand, enjoy the rest of your afternoon” he says, turning around to walk away. “Wait, Harry” I say, standing up and following him. He stops walking and turns back to me and nods softly. I blush, “I.. I’m sorry, I’m really bad at recognizing when a guy is flirting or asking me out”. He gives me a kind smile, “ ‘s okay”.

I shake my head, “no I’m sorry. I wasn’t meaning to say no to the date. I’d love to go on a date with you, if the offer still stands; God knows I could use the help with the slang you guys use here “. Harry laughs and my heart speeds up at the sound of it. Before he can respond, my anxious brain feels the need to continue my explanation. “I just said no because I truly don’t drink tea” I ramble. Why did I need to add that? Who cares that I don’t drink tea, I can just get water if the date is still on the table.

“You don’t drink tea?” Harry asks, looking around the bistro and towards my table. I shake my head no and he seems to notice my water glass. “Love, you’re in London at a cafe and are choosing to drink just water?” he asks. My face reddens at him calling me love but I push past it and nod, “yeah I don’t really like tea”. Did I really just tell a cute British boy that I don’t like tea?! The British love their tea. So much so I might as well have insulted his mother or wiped my face off on his shirt after eating a messy meal. He’s cute enough to pretend I like tea, why didn’t I just do that?!

“How can you not like tea?” Harry asks, seeming truly shocked at my revelation. Well there goes the shot at the date still happening. I shrug, “it’s too sweet for me. Even unsweetened tea”. “Too sweet?” he all but gasps. “Wait! You’re from the States. Have you had British tea?” He laughs. I shake my head no, “Is there a difference?”. He smiles and nods, “ a huge one and based on your reason you don’t like American tea, I think you’ll enjoy this one”. Even if not, I can certainly pretend. “Tell you what, if you let me have Damien make you a tea with just the right amount of milk, even if you still don’t like it, we can still have that date” Harry smiles. “Damien?” I ask, confused. “Ahh, he’s one of the employees here” he explains. “And he makes the tea with milk?” I raise my eyebrows. I’ve heard of a sugar, lemon, etc. But milk? Harry nods, “I know it probably sounds weird but it is super common here and really good”. “Okay, deal” I nod back. Harry smiles and waves down a server who appears to be a few years older than us. “Hey, can you make Y/N a mug of tea? She’s never had British tea before!” I press my lips together to suppress the smile forming on my face. He’s so excited about this and the way he said my name sounded so incredible. “Sure thing! How much milk would you like?” The server, Damien I presume, asks. I look over at Harry unsure. He smiles back at me and winks, “use my ratio please Damien”. I blush and play with the hem of my shirt. “On it, I’ll be back in a moment” Damien says, heading to the kitchen. “Your ratio?” I ask. This time it’s Harry who blushes, “I used to work here. And if I do say so myself, I make an ace cuppa tea”. I laugh, “based on the context, I’m assuming ace means good?” Harry nods and smiles.

“Here you are, enjoy” Damien says, setting a cup down on the random table Harry and I sat down at. “Thank you sir” I say and see Harry smile at me. I blush and grab the mug, taking a deep breath as I look at Harry and raise my eyebrow playfully before bringing the mug to my lips. Woah. This is so different than tea back home. Harry was right, I do like this better. My eyes widen and I take another sip before setting it down. When I look at Harry he’s got this precious smirk on his face as he watches my reaction. “You were right, this is really good” I admit. Harry laughs, “I’m glad darling. Does that mean I can take you out for some tea and British slang studying tomorrow?” I smile and nod, “as long as they use your recipe”. Harry blushes, “I’ll see to it”.

“Okay darling, I’ll see you tomorrow at three” Harry says, handing me my phone back after plugging in his contact information. I smile, “perfect”. He grins at me before excusing himself to return to his table. I watch as the boys at the table he must’ve been at all quickly look away when I make eye contact. I blush and laugh to myself as I walk back to my table. “Well? You two looked cozy” Y/F/N smirks. I bite my lip and shrug, “he’s really sweet and I’m going to go on a date with him tomorrow”. She lets out a tiny squeak that’s luckily quiet enough I know he can’t hear it. I grin and nod in agreement at her reaction. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Harry’s POV:

“Well how was the date? Looked like you got along” Paddy says the second I reach our table. “It wasn’t a date. Yet. We’re going out tomorrow” I smile, my heart feeling like it’s going to burst between my nerves and happiness. Tomorrow’s gotta go well, I need to have her in my life. In just a matter of a few minutes she’s already been the highlight of this whole week.

“Congrats!” Tom cheers. “Mate that’s smashing! I knew you could do it” Sam agrees and Paddy simply smirks and nods his head. “Shhh you guys are loud” I complain but can’t stop my smile from growing. “Yeah, let’s not embarrass him in front of his new girlfriend” Paddy remarks. I shove his shoulder gently, “she’s not my girlfriend”. “Yet” I finish, determined to make this work with her. The boys nod, “yet”.

#harry holland #Harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #harry holland fic #harry holland fanfiction #harry holland x you #harry holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland #my writing #requests

[writefightandflightclub]

🧡Thank you for reading🧡

Prepare for me to get mushy up in here.

Look, I write alone.

The writing itself, is a solitary thing. My alone time. My escape. (I’m not saying I would never collaborate though omg 👀)

But, the posting of it? That’s a bit different. It’s about sharing. About community. About -inevitably- exposing a little bit of yourself, in a way, even through fictional scenarios which may not resemble much at all about our real-life truth.

There are two fics I posted, where sharing has made me feel less alone, in wildly different ways, and I wanted to say a little bit about that.

The first, I’m being a little bit flippant. I now know I’m not alone in wishing I magically had a dick so I could engage in some polyamorous gender bent kinky roleplay type scenario with two fictional middle-aged blorbos. 🙈🤣 (Who knew anyone else would be into that?!)

The second? Well… that fic was almost written as a personal bit of therapy. To get something out of my head and onto the paper and be done with it. I wasn’t sure if anyone would read it, and I didn’t necessarily expect anyone to relate to it.

Look. I’ll level with you. I’m categorically not saying I was previously kept up at night wondering if a randomly generated Luna-brain Frankiago fantasy was something anyone else would be into. 😂

But in the latter case? Honestly? I had wondered. Things like - are these feelings valid? Will anyone ever understand?

Maybe they will, I’d thought. Maybe if I can find the right words? I had tried that IRL for a long time. Then I tried it in a story. And, hey. Guess what? Some people finally understood. Knowing that some people had related to the fragments of myself I was weaving into this fictionalisation? Honestly? That was kind of a big deal.

“Hey!” I thought. “I’m not alone!”

We all tell our stories all the time, beyond fiction. In life, we all try to find the right words, don’t we? All want to be understood, right, on some level? Seen?

I promise. You are not alone.

Even if people around you right now aren’t hearing you, one day you will share your story -whatever it is- to the right people, and you will be understood. You will feel validated.

Thank you for being my right people.

For sharing part of yourself back with me.

That’s what “commenting” is, right? Sharing? I really genuinely treasure that. This form of us sharing how we feel. Of saying we feel the same things, sometimes. Not in the same way. Not exactly the same, of course. But when we scream and keysmash and gif and type there’s something there. Something that resonates in terms of our shared human experiences. Of desire, longing, love, fears, hopes, challenges, a seeking out of comfort, of catharsis, healing. All of this and so much more. Of course, it’s not always about agreement. It’s wonderful that everyone sees things from such a unique perspective. But sometimes, it is about something in common. Finding a way of saying, I want this too! This scares me too! I have felt like this before too! This makes me happy (or horny) too! I also want to be ravaged by the blorbo! I enjoy this idea too! That’s how I see him too! I am also curious about this! I also can’t stop thinking about this! I’m just a a excited as you are!

Finding a community.

So… Thank you, when I choose to engage in what can feel like an incredibly vulnerable pursuit at times -writing-, for being vulnerable and so generous back. For allowing me a peek into who you are. How you feel things. What makes you smile and cry and yearn and makes you feel afraid. For the times we’ve found out sometimes we agree about those things. For letting me learn the ways we might be different and the same and mostly probably both at once.

On this occasion, thank you for letting me know you had felt something I had felt.

You certainly don’t owe your comments or your time to me or anyone (supporting writers is wonderful, both truths can coexist etc. etc.). I know they stem from your kindness and generosity alone as you take time and energy out of your day. I know you have your own reasons with engaging or not engaging with particular fics, all of which are valid. But, anyone who comments is aware they are giving, right? A boost to an author, a little lightning bolt of happiness, a shot of pure joy into the bloodstream. And sometimes, even more than that. Sometimes those comments might be appreciated in ways far beyond what you might expect or even in ways you may never know.

Today I wanted you to know.

On this occasion in particular, it seemed worth saying that not only are your comments and feedback a source of immense joy in general - and I have unwaning gratitude for each one - but they are even more than that for me.

We’re not.

We’re not alone.

Sometimes a community looks like pocket friends who happen to thirst after the same DILFs.

Some would say it’s not that deep.

Yeah, and?

It’s actually wonderful thing imho.

So, THANK YOU.

For reading, yes. Absolutely. But not only for that.

Thank you also, because when I have shared things over the years, some of you have chosen to share something of yourself back. Sometimes, that’s a part of yourself, which let’s a part of me know it’s going to be okay.

I might not know what city you live in or what your face looks like but I know something about your kindness and your heart 🧡

I know that some of us, sometimes, feel the same things. Not in exactly the same ways, no. But enough to be understood by one another. To be seen.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to tell you about everything that means to me.

So. It actually is that deep, I would argue.

There are plenty of people who try to devalue fandom and writing about middle-aged blorbos on the internet. As something trivial. But often, we’re not exclusively telling their stories. Sometimes we are, for sure -often maybe- and I think that’s wonderful in and of itself and I will come for anyone who says otherwise. But sometimes, the story we’re telling is -wait for it-our own. Maybe not wholly and not all at once. Maybe in tiny, very well-concealed fragments. Maybe not true to life, no. But true at its heart. True in terms of the feelings and dreams and fears… and all of that human shit.

We’re dealing with big human themes in a seemingly small way here, aren’t we? In these stories? But… isn’t that the only way they exist? From one heart and brain to another. Aren’t stories one of the most human ways of sharing and understanding we’ve ever known?

We’re always transmitting our stories.

Fictional.

Real.

Sometimes, maybe, a blur between the two.

Always trying to find the right words.

And sometimes, yeah, it’s about pure escapism or The Horn or whatever. But sometimes? Sometimes when we write we’re trying to be seen a bit too. Sometimes when we read we’re maybe trying to find our own story looking back at us.

On occasion, wherever and whatever you’re reading, I hope you see yourself.

I hope that causes you to know.

You’re not alone.

You’re not alone.

You’re not alone.

It will all be okay.

So. Thank you for reading. Yes, absolutely. But not only for that.

Thank you for everything.

It means so very much to me.

More than you can know.

But today, I wanted you to know.

🧡🌙

#I’m on my period maybe that’s why I’m feeling soppy #fuck it #romanticise everything #small things are big things #the smallest differences are sometimes the biggest #maybe I will delete this later

[dreamwritesimagines]

Re: the extra scene-

(It’s CMA)

Omggggg this is so, so cute!!! Also Ben being so aware of her throughout the entire day 🥺🥺

Does Lottie know she’s in love with Anthony?

Omggg after they get engaged Anthony is going to walk into his study after he talks with her father and the chair is going to swivel around (idk if they had those then but shhh just go with it) and it’s going to be benedict going ‘well well well what do we have here’ and Anthony is like ‘u don’t even live here anymore???????’ And Ben’s negotiating the terms of their engagement, even tho anthony just did it with her dad. And at the end Ben is going to be like ‘have I made myself clear’ or whatever and Anthony is going to be exasperated and so over it and he’s just like ‘yes are you done’.

(Bonus: Ben did not expect him to be so forthcoming and so he keeps adding on stipulations to the agreement by going ‘and one more thing!’)

Idk I’m just imagining Jake peralta and captain holt from b99 vibes but idk if you’ve seen that show. Maybe rob Swanson and Leslie Knope but I’m less familiar with that show. Just Ben way too high on having the power over his brother for once. I mean I know that’s not entirely Ben’s vibes but also it’s silly and fun so who cares

Ben being worried he’ll be a bad husband and we all know he’s actually worried about like… being too chatty or accidentally killing a rose bush by pouring paint water on it or something. (Also though if that did happen Ben would feel awful but I hope clover would be mature enough to realize it was an accident like how she was with teddy but I doubt she’s in that place yet).

But anyway I don’t think he’s really worried about cheating or anything cuz I don’t think that’s in his nature nor being violent, despite what clover keeps insinuating, and I think he knows that he’s so in love with her that he wouldn’t want anything else or whatever.

Also though I am such a fan of the trope where the one who is worried about being cheated on is the babysitter when the other gets giggly drunk and just their drunk adoration is enough to reassure them like even if they’re inebriated they still love me. Like the whole drunk words sober thoughts kind of vibes?

And idk I feel like there might be a reverse of lady danbury’s luncheon where the guys shoot the shit together and Ben gets giggly drunk. It’d just be so cute. (Wait no I really want to see this now) (stop I’m in love with my own headcanon lmfaoooooooo)

Okay I’m done (I think). I just love this extra scene so much (and this entire story if you couldn’t tell lmfao)

CMA HI MY LOVEEEEE! ❤️🥰

Charlotte kiiiinda has an idea but not really ❤️ She convinced herself Anthony would never fall in love with her, so she is trying not to think about her own feelings for him because she thinks it's hopeless❤️ So she thinks he's the most amazing person in the world but she ignores the fact that she is completely in love with him ❤️

Lolll oh Benedict will give Anthony hell when Anthony proposes to Charlotte and afterwards😂 Like, he will make things much harder than Charlotte's father did! 😂

I've seen both of those shows, I totally know what you mean!❤️

Oh absolutely! ❤️ Benedict knows he would never cheat on her or do anything to hurt her, ever ❤️ But like, he's worried about saying the wrong thing and hurting her feelings or something, because all the relationships he had so far were physical or just not serious, and now he's actually married 😂 So he's sooo freaking out 😂

WAIT OMG-

I LOVE THIS IDEA?! 😱😍 Benedict getting drunk and Clover being totally sober, listening to him ramble about how pretty she is with a smile on her face awwww🥰 We need that scene! 😍

Thank you so much darling! 😍 ILY! ❤️❤️❤️

[rockthistowninsideout]

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#if this fails it might be the first stepping stone for airlines to really introduce even smaller seats (or those shitty standing -up/double

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#5

Digimon Frontier Fest 2022

Day 3 - What are your hopes for the “official” Digimon Frontier 20th anniversary? 

It would be hella rad to have something like the To Sora clip they released alongside Kizuna. Let’s see if I can come up with suitable careers that Toei could present to us.

(Edit: I wrote that before any announcements from Toei’s side.)

Takuya - I think... that Takuya would make an excellent kindergardener. The children would absolutely love that he’s full of mischief and always up to fun. Because he has a strong sense of justice, the kids come to him when they need a problem between each other solved. But he also has an open ear for their personal issues and is not afraid to take a stand against the parents when that’s better for the children.

Kouji - While Kouji has made a lot of progress in regards of letting people into his comfort zone, he has still not developed into a party animal. That’s why he works in a more solitary career as a freelance photographer. He can choose which assignments he takes up, and if there are too many people, he politely declines. What he prefers are landscape shots with only a few people, and less wedding photos or concert photography.

Izumi - With her unique combination of Italian and Japanese, she’s basically destined to run a restaurant that serves both cuisines in exciting and novel ways. Though at some point she outsources the cooking to a team of trusted employees, not just because the restaurant becomes such a huge hit that it’s too much too handle for one person but also because she wants to take on the challenge of managing a business. I like to think that she keeps just that one restaurant even though there are a lot of offers to branch out.

Tomoki - While he is probably the one who grows the bravest, despite not being the goggle boy, his biggest trait is his helpfulness. After trying out a few social jobs, he lands in a retirement home - and the elderly dote on him like he is their collective adopted son. He works there as a caregiver but later on he climbs up the ladder to a management position where he tries to improve the situations for the elder people and the caregivers alike.

Junpei - My heart wants him to be a full-time magician who runs his own magic shop. He’s a more down-to-earth magician than the big illusionists like David Copperfield, more your local neighbourhood than Las Vegas. He guests in children‘s birthday parties, retirement homes and company parties. Which is all the success he needs - he doesn’t want to sell out a theatre that holds thousands every night. Bright eyes is all the payment he wants.

Koichi - He is so thankful for the rescue from his near-death that he wants to become a doctor. While he is bright enough to learn all the terms and studies hard, the pressure of medical studies takes its toll. Paired with the lingering dark stemming from Lucemon’s influence, it’s too much for him and he has to abandon his studies. But a mentor at his program suggests that he becomes a nurse instead. Less years of study with the same amount of impact and there’s always the option of further education.

(they’re nodding in agreement with my headcanons 😂)

47 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 9. April 2022

#4

Digi Week 2022

Day 2 - Sports

61 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 27. Juli 2022

#3

Digi Week 2022

Day 3 - Humour

Hikari is not taking criticism.

62 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 28. Juli 2022

#2

Happy Odaiba Day everyone!

I hope you have a lovely day and you can incorporate a bit of Digimon magic into it.

(made with pngs provided by the fantastic @earlgreymon!)

(I made this long before any announcements for DigiWeek were posted but I worked hard on it so I’m not gonna delete it. That’s why I still post it - as a treat.)

69 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 1. August 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

Amongst Our Weapons spoilers with no context:

103 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 23. April 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

#tumblr2022 #Jahresrückblick #Mein Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 #Dein Tumblr-Jahresrückblick #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i can't be bothered right now to translate it

[talkfantasytome]

Better Than Revenge

No one steals Nesta's toys and gets away with it.

Warnings: Toxic; semi-NSFW; grinding; gaslighting

Word Count: 2,032 | Read on AO3

This one goes out to @unhealthyfanobsession for the agreement on the song in relation to Nesta, and mentioning gaslighting in the first place, which gave me the "plot". 😂

a/n: IDK, y'all. This came up in a conversation about the Speak Now album, and I said something about how Better Than Revenge is Nesta...and here we are. Is this good? Probably not. Pretty sure it's crap. And both Nesta AND Mor are definitely hella toxic. But Nesta comes out on top, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Also, this isn't meant to be anti-Mor. She was just the best character for her role. And, sorry if I'm using the term wrong, but by my understanding, Nesta is definitely gaslighting Mor. 😈 And, you know, maybeeeee this is also me getting some revenge/closure for all the shit in ACOWAR with Cassian and Mor that we NEVER got any resolution on. 👀

OH! One more thing: I'm not trying to straight-code or make Mor more straight or anything like that. In fact, that's part of why I explicitly state they're not actually official. This is just an AU where Nesta and Mor are both Toxic, and may care as much/more about competition with each other than other things. 👀 #longliveemorie

"Nesta, are you sure you want to do this?"

Nesta didn't bother looking away from her reflection toward her friend as she dabbed at her lip, cleaning up any stray points of bright red. "Absolutely."

"Is he really worth it?" Gwyn asked tentatively. She was twisting her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

"It's not about him anymore." Nesta straightened, tousling her golden brown hair before taking a step back to admire the look.

The sparkling, crimson dress was tight against her torso, the neckline low enough to show off her generous cleavage without being so low she looked like a slut. The fabric hugged her every curve all the way to mid-thigh, where it left the rest of her legs bare for the world to see. They looked divine, glowing and toned - complete torture in the five-inch black stilettos she adorned.

This outfit was a weapon, plain and simple, and one Nesta was ready to wield.

"That bitch needs to know that I'm not someone to play with," Nesta continued, finally turning to look at her friend. Gwyn was in a far more modest dress of dark blue. It still sparkled, but fell just above the knees, showing off her curves without hugging her body tightly. "She stole something that's mine. I'm simply going to get it back."

Gwyn sighed heavily and nodded, knowing it was pointless to continue.

She was the only one who truly knew what Nesta was thinking…feeling. The only one who saw the pain Nesta experienced when she found out that Cassian had hooked up with Mor.

They weren't official or anything, it's not like he cheated. But she had him right where she wanted him, a toy she could play with whenever she wanted, and then that witch took him right out from under her. Nesta never admitted to Cassian how she truly felt, preferring to hide behind the games they played. She never told him what she wanted, outside of the bedroom, at least. But she'd been so sure they were on the same page, to lose him like that, it kept beating on her like an unrelenting drum that wouldn't shut up.

It was a quick walk to the bar where Feyre was hosting some large, end of summer party. Nesta didn't care much about the purpose of the event, just that there would be a free bar and a particular couple in attendance, if she could even call them that. To the best of her knowledge, they weren't dating, she didn't even know if they'd hooked up again. But since that night, she hadn't seen Cassian once, so she knew Mor had dug her claws in - deeply.

The party was in full swing by the time they got there, people dancing in the center of the large room, a crowd hanging out by the bar, and then small groups sprinkled about the room around small bar tables.

Nesta scanned the room, finding her targets quickly, and with Gwyn at her flank, she took that path toward the bar.

Cassian looked up from his drink and froze at the sight of Nesta walking toward him, his eyes widening as he took her in. She offered him a coy smile, trailing her own gaze down his body in a way she knew would drive him mad.

"Nesta!" Mor's sickly sweet voice called as she reached their little table, the girl wrapping a golden arm around Cassian's waist. Nesta didn't miss the way Cassian seemed to stiffen slightly at the touch, as if he didn't want to be touched by her while Nesta was there.

She chose to take that as a good omen for her own plans. Plans she'd sent in motion weeks ago.

"Look at you," Mor continued. "Trying to impress someone?"

"Mor, Mor, Mor…must you constantly be trying to start a war?"

Mor rolled her eyes. "There you go again with the rhyming."

"It's unintentional," Nesta swore, placing her hand over her heart. "Not my fault it happens so easily. Now, if you'll excuse us, we were heading to the bar." Nesta brushed her fingers through her hair, flipping her part and smiling to herself as she saw Cassian's eyes watch the movement closely.

"You don't want to catch up?" Mor added a mock pout to her question. "I was so looking forward to asking you about Tomas."

Nesta stilled, her face falling into one of shock as she turned to look back at Mor.

"I'm going to grab those drinks," Gwyn sighed, excusing herself as the tension between the other three increased exponentially.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Nesta ground out.

Mor threw her a dazzling, triumphant smile. "You and Tomas Mandray…getting together…"

"What?!" Cassian hissed, his eyes snapping back to Nesta's. For a moment, she forgot about everything; her goals for the night, her plan, her need for victory. For one second, it was just her and Cassian in an empty room, able to forget about all the shit in their world and just be.

But it didn't last, not as Nesta was reminded by a shrill cackle about the woman still draped over him.

"Yes, they're becoming quite the item, I believe," Mor added.

Nesta huffed out a low laugh, shaking her head. "I don't know where you're getting your gossip, Mor, but you're highly mistaken. I am not with Tomas, nor have I ever been." Oh, she definitely had. Or, well, she'd kissed him. Purposefully. When she knew Mor was watching.

"Nice try, Nesta, but I saw you two last week."

Tilting her head, Nesta threw Mor an innocent look full of concern and confusion. "Mor, I honestly don't know what you're talking about. Everyone knows Tomas Mandray is a dick and treats women horrifically." And a perfect fuckboy for Nesta to toy with and not feel too badly about. Especially since his family had moved earlier in the summer, and Tomas was only back for a few days to see some friends. "How could you think I would ever involve myself with him?"

"Because I saw-"

"Mor, come on," Cassian grunted, giving her a stern look. "This isn't funny."

Mor huffed in offense. "It's not a joke! I saw them."

"It must have been someone else you saw," Nesta suggested sweetly. "I didn't even know he was back in town."

"What do you mean?" Mor's eyes narrowed toward Nesta.

"Tomas moved to Hybern at the end of June," Cassian explained, taking a sip from his beer. Mor's mouth parted as she gaped at Nesta in confusion.

"You're a bitch," she seethed, her cheeks beginning to flush.

Nesta feigned insult, but she didn't have to say anything as Cassian slammed his bottle on the table. "That's enough! You made a mistake, so just move on."

Mor ground her teeth. "I didn't."

"It's okay Mor, we all make mistakes sometimes," Nesta offered, flashing her a smirk that told Mor exactly what mistake she was talking about. "Now, I'm going to go find my friend."

Pivoting on her heel, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and strutted toward the bar where Gwyn was waiting with a cocktail in each hand. Nesta accepted the drink with glee as Gwyn watched something over her shoulders.

"What did you do?"

Nesta looked behind her to see Cassian all but shouting at Mor before he walked away. She shrugged triumphantly as she turned back to face Gwyn, taking a long sip of her drink. "Nothing too bad. Just making sure Cassian sees Mor for who she truly is."

"Nice," Gwyn sighed.

"It is for me. She steals Cassian away from me, fine. I'll make sure she loses him, too."

"Incoming." Gwyn ducked her eyes away, turning to lean against the bar as Nesta spun to greet the newcomer.

"Cassian," she beamed, placing her drink down on the bar and making a note not to come back to it.

Cassian nodded at her. "Hey. Look, I just want to apologize…about Mor…it was stupid of her to-"

Nesta cut him off with a tsk. "Is she yours to apologize for?"

"No."

"Then don't worry about it. No harm done to me." She widened her smile and then moved to pass him, flinging over her shoulder a simple request. "Dance with me?"

She didn't need to look behind her to know Cassian was following, his stare completely on her backside.

They weaved in and out of the dancing couples until Cassian decided they were done walking, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her body into his. He began to move to the beat of the music - it wasn't perfect, but this type of dancing was what Cassian was best suited for. So long as he didn't have to move his feet too much, they were good.

Nesta relished in the feel of his body against hers, her ass against his front, the noticeable hardness she was rubbing against. His massive hands were splayed over her hips, moving her with him, holding her close. She leaned her head against his chest, the heels making her tall enough that about half her head peeked over his broad shoulders.

Cassian was practically curled up around her, his head tilted down so he could rest it against her temple. She smiled at all the different points of contact, at the flame they each seemed to ignite. It had always been this way between them. Like an electric spark, shocking them and drawing them closer all at once. She rested one hand over his while she lifted the other to tangle her fingers into his hair, to hold his head close.

He breathed in deeply, as if he were trying to memorize her scent, then sighed out a soft, "Nesta."

"Mmmm," was her only response. She allowed herself to get lost in the music, let her body take over completely, keeping her mind blank so she could savor the moment.

"Gods, Nesta," Cassian groaned. She felt her face scrunch at his tone, the seriousness of it. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't," she explained simply.

"No, I wasn't." Cassian gripped her tightly and turned her in his arms so they were facing each other, never once losing the contact of their bodies. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands found their place on her ass.

Their dancing grew wilder, more intense as Cassian moved slightly so that Nesta was now grinding against his thigh. Her arms slipped as she began to loosen, her hands now digging into his shoulders from behind. His own grip tightened as he helped to press her against him harder, and Nesta lost all sense of reason as she felt a pressure build within her.

Cassian leaned his forehead against hers as their breathing grew uneven, and though her own eyes were closed, she could feel him watching her as she chased that high she hadn't felt in almost two months.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice guttural. She felt her pants grow louder, soft moans slipping out with each one, and when Cassian leaned in and clamped down softly on her neck she lost all control. Her hips bucked and began to move completely unchecked, hard against his thigh as her orgasm cascaded through her entirely. Cassian moved with her, kissing up her neck as she rode out her climax.

Nesta all but stilled, feeling as if she were being held up by Cassian as she breathed in deeply, working to compose herself.

When she looked back up, she saw Cassian smiling down at her as they swayed slowly.

He moved closer and brought his mouth to her ear. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Nesta felt herself smirk. "I'll think about it," she offered, stepping away from him. "But thanks for the ride."

With a wink, Nesta turned and walked away, knowing his eyes followed her all the way to the door as she made her leave. A triumphant queen he was ready to serve again.

She had never expected it to go so well. But, then again, there was nothing Nesta did better than revenge.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @live-the-fangirl-life @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @sv0430 @confusedfandomslut @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @whoreforgwynriel @emily-gsh @my-fan-side

If you'd like to be added to my Nessian or general tag list, let me know! 😄

#nessian #nessian fic #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #nesta and cassian #cassian x nesta #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of silver flames #acosf #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #toxic relationship #toxic #toxic!nesta #toxic!mor #better than revenge #based on a taylor swift song #grinding #gaslighting

[lcandothisallday]

Has Jack ever said the word “mamas” about women? I see that being used in fics everywhere lol

LMAOO tbh I don’t think I’ve ever personally explicitly heard him saying or using it. I think fans on here just collectively agreed that’s an endearing term jack would use. Kinda like how fans have steve rogers say “doll” in all of the fics he’s in when I don’t actually remember him saying it in any of the movies😂

maybe I’m wrong and haven’t come across jack saying it so if anyone has proof, reblog it pls cos I too would like to know😌 but until then, it’s like a collective thing jack blogs and fans have come to an agreement on😂😂

#jack harlow concepts