#oh yes I am obligated to reblog this

[bakerstreethound]

The Loyal Bentley

Relationship: Aziraphale x Crowley

Warnings: post s2 spoilers, mentions of hurt, comfort, soft Crowley, domestic partners, domestic bliss, fix-it goodness, and the Bentley must be protected

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley get the ending they deserve, hidden away from doing the biddings of Heaven and Hell when Aziraphale makes his final choice.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 880

A/N: Hello, hello! I offer up another treat. After listening and heavily inspired by Tracey Champan's Fast Car, I had to write something for the ineffable husbands. I know there's no reader featured, but I really wanted to focus on this alternative ending for them. I hope you enjoy. This is dedicated to @novaracer. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Agony. 

That’s the feeling creeping along the recesses of Crowley’s mind. He leaned against the Bentley, his beloved car, heart thrumming in anticipation. 

He knew surely how lovestruck and forlorn -albeit lost- he looked but he didn’t care. Since when did Heaven and Hell have to continue calling the shots in their life on this earth? It was worth protecting. 

Aziraphale was worth protecting. 

He swallowed again, foot tapping on the sidewalk now as time slowed, people in lower Soho toddling by through their mid-afternoon excursions. It was an odd ambiance, one Crowley wasn't particularly fond of, but Aziraphale thrived in the heart and hubbub of a city. 

Aziraphale. 

The name made his chest falter, and his breath caught as he gazed back to the bookshop doors across the street as they finally, finally crept open. All the hoping, watching, waiting, and joy flowing through his veins skyrocketed tenfold as he caught a glimpse of Aziraphale and his luggage.

Muriel followed behind, dutifully toting a vintage trunk, encouraged by Aziraphale’s ramblings from the look of it while he hauled a briefcase and smaller trunk up to the Bentley. 

“Angel,” Crowley warned, holding out his hand to balance Aziraphale who stumbled on the sidewalk, “you need to watch your step.” 

“I can assure you, I am capable of handling myself, Crowley,” he muttered, a hint of a blush flushing his cheeks. 

“Mr. Fell, is this where you want the trunk?” Muriel smiled, struggling to open the back door of the Bentley which stubbornly refused to oblige their wish. 

“That’s fine, Muriel, thank you!” Aziraphale shifted as Crowley relieved him of the smaller trunk, throwing open the back door, leaving Muriel shocked as he stacked the trunks carefully. He usually wouldn’t care in the slightest but Aziraphale had made a choice and chosen him, chosen their side. 

Us. 

The word so small and insignificant sent the kindling flame within his chest burning and he closed the door, smiling at Muriel. 

“Aziraphale’s leaving the shop in your capable hands, I see.” 

“Oh yes, Mr. Crowley! I’ve got everything planned and in tip-top order!” Muriel gave a thumbs up and turned away to the coffee shop, where Nina stood poised at the door to welcome them in. She waved at Aziraphale and Crowley which they returned, a small smile on her face as she guided Muriel in to treat them to a fancy frozen drink. 

“Ready to go, then?” Crowley drew closer, brushing a finger along the lapels of Airaphale’s cream-colored jacket. Aziraphale swallowed, casting a quick look back at the bookshop that stood quietly, somehow bidding him a bittersweet farewell as his hand shifted to reach for the Bentley’s passenger door.

Crowley’s hand fell gently on top of his. 

“No, Angel, let me.” 

Aziraphale didn’t question it, not when Crowley opened the door for him, waiting until he got comfortable in his seat before shutting the door and joining him in his respective driver’s seat. They sat there a moment basking in the quiet, Crowley’s sunglasses still perched dutifully on the bridge of his nose.

Aziraphale somehow craved to see the demon’s eyes in the full sunlight, their brilliant shade of yellow. So many things were left unsaid, but it felt right, even after the argument. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake drive, Crowley!” 

And so they did, down across the expanse of the city, into the wide spaces of the country. Anything and everything was before them. It was only them. 

Us. 

Such a simple word, but it was all Crowley could want and more. Aziraphale’s choice was one he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t pull away when Aziraphale rested his hand on his thigh, squeezing in encouragement.

The Bentley slowed, Crowley’s grip slipping on the wheel a fraction of a moment- a thousand fractions of moments. The touch was burning, searing full of so many unspoken words that he dared not speak. 

The want was too much. 

So it went on, and on, the Bentley switching from Queen to slow romantic ballroom dancing right as it stopped in front of a countryside manor in the sprawling hills. Hidden in a glen amid a grove of trees, it provided the privacy, yet all the comforts of home one could need. Crowley had ensured it, knew it would fit their life here on Earth, even though he’d prefer to be in the heavens amongst his nebulas. 

“Oh Crowley, it’s quite lovely!” Aziraphale chuckled when the Bentley stopped in the cobbled driveway, chirping happily. 

Crowley smiled his gaze lingering on Azriaphale allowing the silence to wash over them. Peace, happiness, togetherness. It was worth it in the end and as Crowley guided Azirphale to the door of their new abode, he stopped, looking out over the countryside, and the trees, inhaling deeply. 

“This is something akin to paradise, Crowley.” 

“Well Angel, I reckon it is.” 

Crowley says nothing more, practically stumbling as Aziraphale closes the space between them, and reaches for the lapels of his jacket, their lips connecting, hungering for more. 

Yes, all was quite well in the world, a little slice of happiness. A nightingale sang a happy tune in the distance as the door latched behind the angel and demon, sheltering them from the world that had taken and given them so much for eternity. 

******

#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens imagine #gos2 #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens #my writing #my alleyway

[mazeinthemiroh]

ateez and their s/o move in together pls ❤️

ateez when they move in with their s/o

genre: crack, fluff

word count: 1.1k

warnings: some are longer than others, apologies

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

hongjoong

hongjoong had the design of most of the rooms all figured out. and you trusted him with this because he just has a naturally good eye for these things. he has a unique but organised mind; he knows what looks good.

for this reason, everything seemed to be in place quite early on after moving in. the challenging tasks lay with putting together certain furniture.

"we shouldn't have to pay someone to do this for us when we can do it ourselves!" hongjoong said defiantly and optimistically. "how hard can it really be?"

he soon regretted asking that because it was 11:30 pm and you both sat together on the living room floor, still contemplating the instructions that made no sense and the unit you were trying to build still not complete.

you both looked over at each other and exchanged looks, not needing to say what you both thought about the situation.

"you wanna get a takeaway?" hongjoong shrugged at you.

"oh, absolutely." anything was better than this.

seonghwa

seonghwa was in a dream-like state the moment all the boxes were unboxed and everything was in its place.

you looked at him and shook your head, "oh yeah? you're happy now, but earlier you were a nervous wreck!"

seonghwa chuckled sheepishly and leaned against the kitchen counter, a slightly guilty look on his face.

"yeah, sorry about that," hecrossed his arms over his chest, "i just wanted everything to be... perfect?"

"yes, i can tell," you giggled at him gently, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. seonghwa grinned at your actions and hugged you back.

"now that i've stopped to take it in, i just can't believe we've moved in together," he dreamily, a thankful smile on his lips, "it feels so surreal. and so, so lovely."

yunho

"so what are we gonna do about that spare room?"

yunho whisked his head around excitedly at this question. of course, he had to play it smart in order to get his way. so he sat and raised his hand to his chin, stroking it as if he had a beard, and acting as if he were in incredibly deep thought.

"we could... i don't know..." yunho lead up to it, "turn it into a gaming room?"

you smiled and him knowingly and tutted, "why am i not surprised?"

"hey," yunho chuckled, "it's got multiple purposes. if we have a big tv in there and a couple of consoles, when people will come round we will all have something to do to break the ice."

yunho always made a good point.

"and when it's just us two, we can cuddle up and watch a movie," he fluttered his eyelashes and you shook your head, rolling your eyes at his forced cuteness.

"fine, whatever. have your game room! but only if you let me beat you when we play fifa."

"yeah, i don't see that happening."

yeosang

you and yeosang both agreed that the fridge was the most important appliance in the house. the fridge was a priority.

and so here you both were, standing next to a fridge full of food. perfect. but what to do next? neither of you had a clue.

"maybe we should have thought this through," you hummed, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with the thought of everything else you had to get through.

"yeah, but hey, at least we got food," yeosang grinned and grabbed a chocolate bar. you shoo your head disapprovingly at him.

"onto the next thing now," you said, acting as the voice of reason in this situation (it tended to alternate) and on passing yeosang, you took a big bite out of his unwrapped chocolate. he was appalled at your actions but knew he had to oblige.

indulging in chocolate would have to wait.

san

"so now that we have settled in, we need to de-clutter all our stuff. you know, get rid of stuff."

the word 'de-clutter' never really appealed to san. he wasn't a hoarder by any means, but he did tend to keep a lot of stuff for the sake of keeping them.

"i know i need to get rid of some clothes," you said, going through your wardrobe. you came across something of san's and smiled, amused.

"i suppose we are keeping this?" you held up his shiber plushie that he has kept for all these years. he looked at it with a fond smile and practically snatched it from your hands.

"yes, i'll keep shiber," he hugged the plushie to his chest, "for old time's sake, of course"

mingi

you and mingi lay in an exhausted heap on the sofa. the unpacking was done. everything was in it's place. it took ages but finally, everything had come together.

"we did it," he mumbled, his tone tired but triumphant as he raised his hand lazily to offer a high-five. you high-fived him back, a half-hearted effort on your part too. your hands collided and fell into each other in the same movement. you were both tired, but that didn't mean you couldn't hold hands.

"what do we do now?" he asked, half-worried there would be more work to do.

but you shook your head as if you sensed his worry.

"nothing," you replied, "we do nothing."

wooyoung

"there is no way we're having yellow-coloured walls when we have to work with this green carpet."

wooyoung decided he was an interior designer when the two of you moved in together. it was hilarious to you because both organisation nor coordination was just not his thing. but hey, he sure had some style to live up to, apparently.

"i should have gotten another roommate," he sighed dramatically and shook his head.

"i'm not your roommate, i'm supposed to be your soulmate you idiot," you whacked him gently on the arm, before poking him playfully in his sides, making him chuckle and grin at you. "maybe i should find another soulmate then, hmm?"

"you wouldn't dare."

jongho

having a boyfriend like jongho had a lot of perks.

for instance, when moving in with him, he did all the heavy work. it made things much easier having him around that was for sure; lifting things you would never be able to lift yourself.

"can you lift that cabinet over here a sec, i wanna see something," you asked jongho, pointing to the place you wanted it to be put. you were seeing what layout of the lounge was better.

"am i your personal forklift now?" jongho asked, chuckling at his own little joke. he couldn't deny that he enjoyed helping you build the home for the both of you to share.

it was weirdly romantic for him. it felt like a new start to your journey together.

#ateez #atz #kpop #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #seonghwa #park seonghwa #yunho #jeong yunho #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #san #choi san #choi jongho #jongho #yeosang #kang yeosang #song mingi #mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #atz x reader #atz scenarios #atz fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

[raewritesfiction]

The Deputy [Jeremy Renner]

A/N: I watched the video for “Trouble” by Pink and it gave me this idea. Still…. ACAB. I know he plays the Sheriff in the video but for this he’s the Deputy! Also the daughter’s name was picked at random via a Google generator.

Plot: You’re locked in a cell in the Wild Wild West but Deputy Renner has a soft spot for you.

Pairing: Deputy! Jeremy Renner x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Sex worker. Lesbianism. Unsafe sex. Handcuffs.

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @thegreatlarryfisherman @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @madsadgenius @dreamlesswonder86 @purplerain85 @lipstickandtanqueray @kandis-mom @melaclintbartoncorner @mcugeekposts @kcthescreamqueen

—

You sigh loudly just to piss off the Sheriff as he goes off duty and switches with his Deputy; you blow the man in charge a kiss “say hello to Scarlett for me!”

“That bitch stays put!” He says to the Deputy and walks out mumbling under his breath.

You’d get nowhere with the Sheriff but the Deputy…. Deputy Renner had a soft spot for you since you came to town and you were more than willing to use your own soft spot to your advantage.

The Deputy smiles at you behind the cell bars and shakes his head “ma’am… just what did you?”

“Hello Deputy Renner.” You wink “well… it seems I was caught stealin’ from a client… the thing is it was the heart of the Sheriff's daughter I stole…and he don’t like that none.”

Deputy Renner nods “uh huh…”

“The Sheriff wants Scarlett to marry some big wig in the city. Business type…. So he’s sending her off tonight on the last train of the day.”

“Well ain’t that a pickle?!” He grips onto the bars and flexes his biceps.

“Ain’t it just? I would very much like to leave and see her off… but it seems that I am stuck here in cuffs.” You pout and flutter your lashes at the Deputy.

“I would very much be obliged if you could let me out and although the sheriff took all my coins I can pay in a different way.”

Deputy Renner raises an eyebrow “I see…” re-adjusting his cowboy hat as he walks to the door of the cell you were in. “And how would you pay ma’am?”

“Well I know how badly you’ve been trying to get to my room at my… lodgin’s… but it seems I am always very busy with other clientele. Maybe I could forgo payment just this once to give you a very private experience right here?”

Deputy Renner smirks and licks his lips “well, the sheriff is gone until mornin’… but what do I tell him then?”

“You tell him I slipped my cuffs with a hair pin while you were taking care of business and then escaped my cell the same way… and you’re not in the habit of manhandlin’ a lady like that.”

“Well you have this all thought out don’t ya?” His hand was already unlocking the cell door for you.

“Yes sir, I most certainly do.” You smile and stand, flashing him your most seductive smile.

“You clean…?” He watches you.

“I sure am, it’s why my price is so high.” You nod “my clientele is very select.”

The Deputy nods and motions for you to step out towards him whereupon he guides you back towards the Sheriff’s desk “this would piss him off so badly…”

You nod “in which case I am all for it… and if it’s your thing… you can leave me in the cuffs.”

“Oh I am definitely leavin’ you in the cuffs until we’re done.” The Deputy nods and makes light work of undoing your bodice; it was re-stitched multiple times but it was still a firm favourite of your clients due to the way it made your tits so pronounced.

The Deputy licked his lips at the sight of your bare chest and his hands moved to massage and tease you, watching your nipples harden under his touch. You let out breathless moans and gasps; his name escaping you when his lips close around your nipple and suck lightly before switching to the other side.

You shuffle your legs and squeeze his hips with your thighs “please Deputy Renner…”

“So polite ma’am… I’m not so much when it comes to matters of pussy…” his hands glide up your legs and move the layers of skirts until he gazes at you “well look at that pretty pink pussy… I was almost expecting it to be made of gold the way other men and women talk about it.”

You blush and smile, leaning into his ear and speaking quietly “feels like silk, so I’m told…”

The Deputy moans low and reaches between your legs, sliding his fingers over you until they were slick and then pushing them into you with ease. You throw your head back and moan quietly; you had mastered the art of making the right noises at the right times but the way the Deputy moved his fingers inside you felt like he knew how to please a lady; curling and scissoring, thrusting them slowly then speeding up until you were whining against his ear and rocking your hips to his hand for release. Something you usually had to do for yourself between clients.

He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, humming and closing his eyes “so sweet…”

You lean panting against him and nibble on his earlobe, wanting nothing more than to touch him but being bound by the cuffs behind your back.

Deputy Renner makes quick work of his belts and pants; pushing them down to free his hardening cock. “Want me to help?” You whisper and nip again.

“On your knees…” he commands

You drop down and open your mouth ready for him, your tongue peaking out over your teeth. His cock tastes a little salty, surely better than most of your clients and you bob your head as you suck along his length, taking little time to feel him harden fully.

“You’re over qualified for this…” he breathes and holds the edge of the desk “get up!” He groans and moves your skirts as you position yourself on the desk again; his hand grips your hip while the other guides his cock into you with ease, “God damn you really do feel as soft as silk…” he groans and pulls you down his length fully, both hands now gripping your hips.

You steady yourself and tighten around him in pulses to tease; a little something that drove other clients wild. The Deputy moans and gasps “keep doing that…” he starts thrusting into you and you’re glad the desk is against a wall for stability; his thrusts are rough and deep but he’s not hurting you like others who do the same. He keeps the pace measured and steady, your pussy coating his cock in your arousal until you’re both a panting mess.

The Deputy watches your tits move on every thrust, mesmerised by their sight and the way your body reacts to him. He watches your nipples harden into sensitive nubs and leans down to suck on them in turn making you whine and moan. Actual moans; you didn’t have to fake anything for the Deputy as he speeds up his hips and reaches to tease your clit - he wasn’t just about his own pleasure. You tightened and relaxed your walls around him as best you could and arched towards him as his teeth scraped over your nipple.

“Oh fuck!” You moan and pant quickly, violently tightening around his cock and pulling him into you with the force of your release. The Deputy grunts roughly and has enough thought to pull out of you, wrapping his hand around himself and jerking himself roughly, moving back as you fall to your knees and throw your head back again. After only moments you feel his hot cum on your bare tits, where his lips had been just seconds ago. His moan is rough and full of pleasure he’d been wanting to release; his jaw was lax and eyes tight shut and his chest heaving.

After a few of minutes, The Deputy is uncuffing you and watching you re-dress yourself.

“Come by anytime and tell them I sent you; I’ll make sure you get a good deal on any lady you like… and I’ll be sure to always have time for you, Deputy.”

He nods and offers a smile “Thank you ma’am… you’d better get running if you’re gonna catch her.”

You nod and leave to the sound of Renner sighing and thanking God.

-Fin-

#Jeremy Renner #Jeremy Renner Smut #Jeremy Renner X Reader #female reader x Jeremy Renner #Pink - Trouble #Trouble #The Deputy #Pink #Jeremy Renner AU #AU Jeremy Renner

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

What's Mine is Yours | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. Literally all my fics are self-serving, so before you ask, yes yes I am indeed exactly like this 🥲

If you like what you read throw me a reblog

Warnings: shitty ex-boyfriends

---------------------------------

The jangling of your car keys caught Bucky’s attention, and he watched with a furrowed brow as you slipped your feet into your boots. Tonight was supposed to be a cozy night in for the two of you- no distractions, no work-talk, and no random, solo outings. He caught your eyeline and quirked a brow in your direction, “Where are you running off to, doll?”

“I just gotta go back to my place real quick, I forgot something,” you leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be right back, I promise”.

A dramatic huff left his chest, “but baaaaaaaaby…” He pressed himself up from the couch cushions and made grabby hands for your cheeks. “Don’t leeeeeave.” Bucky didn't have pride when it came to you. He'd whine. He'd pout. Anything to keep you around. “What did you forget?”

“Oh, um, just a sleep shirt…” You played with the 'Fuck the patriarchy' keychain Nat gave you, knowing damn well Bucky didn’t want you to leave. And you didn’t want to go, it was a necessary evil- in your mind. 

The frown immediately melted from Bucky’s face, “You don’t need a shirt, sweets. You don’t have to wear anything to bed at all…” A sly smile perfectly punctuated his less than subtle flirtation- and you couldn’t help but laugh. His strong hands slid down your body and laid their firm grip on your ass, giving it a squeeze.

“Buck, it’s like twenty degrees out. If I don’t wear a shirt to bed, I’ll freeze my tits off-” you crossed your arms over the tits in question, “and I know how much you love them- so I’m guessing you don’t want that to happen”.

A vehement shake of Bucky’s head confirmed your suspicion. “But I don’t want you to leave, baby. Just wear one of my shirts! Whichever one you want- it’s yours.”

Bucky was wholly yours. He offered himself to you, completely and totally, and that included all his earthly possessions. He left his spot on the couch and took your hand in his, “one of my henleys will probably keep you warmer than a t-shirt, anyway. Win-win.” He gave your hand a gentle tug and did his best to lead you to the bedroom, but you hesitated. 

“No, really, Buck. It’s okay, I can just go get one of mine and-”

“Baby, ‘it’s like twenty degrees out’,” he quoted you to yourself, “why would you want to go all the way back to your place in this weather when you can just go pilfer through my dresser?” He gave your hand a light squeeze, “Really, I don’t mind. Come on, let’s get you something comfy”.

Bucky robbed you of all reasonable excuses. The repeated refusals you threw his way were simply no match for his kind, giving nature. All he ever wanted to do was help. He wanted to bring you the same happiness and comfort you granted him. And if something as simple as loaning you a shirt would save you a trip in the cold, he was more than happy to oblige.

But you wished he’d accepted your first rejection of his offer. It wasn’t like you to ever distance yourself from Bucky, and no part of you actually wanted to make the trip home. But a familiar anxiety resurfaced as Bucky dragged you to his dresser.

You watched as Bucky dug through his drawers in search of the perfect shirt. He deemed a few of his shirts too itchy, while referring to others as “not comfy enough”. The rejected shirts fell to the floor one after the other, forming piles near Bucky’s feet as his ferocious hunt continued. He had the perfect shirt in mind for his best girl, and wouldn’t rest until he’d found it. 

“Oh! Here it is… this one- this my favorite shirt” he unearthed a red Henley from his drawer and displayed it to you proudly, “it’ll look great on you.” He held it up to your body, smiling as the fabric dwarfed your frame. He’d always wanted to see you in his clothes, and felt his cheeks ache as he smiled at the thought of you in his shirt. He’d offered you sleep shirts a few times here and there, but you were always always prepared with clothes of your own. Much to his dismay.

It seemed like every romantic movie he watched with you featured the beautiful ingénue wearing her lover’s shirt, and Bucky wanted to see his ingénue do the same. He’d never gotten the chance to wake up next to a woman he loved, her beautiful body cloaked in his clothes- but your forgetful moment while packing your overnight bag had granted him just that. 

A hesitancy kept you from taking the shirt. In all honesty, you wanted to strip out of your clothes and wrap yourself in the fabric that remained laced with Bucky’s scent. Ever since you’d gotten together, you’d been tempted to drown yourself in his soft shirts and comfortable hoodies- but you wouldn’t dare tell him. Instead, you always double and triple checked your overnight bag, making certain you had everything you needed- and a few extras just in case.

“Are you sure?” you almost reached for the soft red fabric, but recoiled at the last second. “I can just run home, I really don’t mind-”

“Just put on the shirt, doll. That's an order from your sergeant." He shot you a wink and tossed the garment your way. His muscular arms crossed over his chest as he watched you weigh your options. “I know you waaaaant tooooooo”. 

And he was right. Layer by layer, you shed your clothes and slipped Bucky’s shirt over your head. The worn fabric rested gently against your skin, cloaking you in comfort and warmth. And suddenly, you hated yourself for always bringing pajamas to Bucky’s apartment. An unexpected ‘hmmm’ emanated from your chest as you reveled in the safety of Bucky’s scent. There was something so homey, so intimate about wearing his clothes. The only thing better than his arms wrapped tight around you body was his cozy shirt cloaking you in comfort.

Bucky couldn’t stop staring at the long sleeves dangling over your hands, the hem falling below your perfect ass. It was just too cute, seeing you dwarfed by his shirt. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe you were real- but believing that you were actually his proved even harder.

“Better than a t-shirt?” Bucky grinned at you, all too pleased with himself.

With all your might, you tried to fight the smile that threatened to breach the surface. But Bucky’s goofy side got the best of you. “Yeah…” you muttered, “Way, waaaaaay better”. Nothing you owned could ever come close to the all-encompassing comfort of Bucky’s shirt. 

Without warning, you launched yourself into Bucky’s arms. He caught you with ease, holding you close as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. No moment had ever been as perfect, as tooth-rottingly sweet. Wrapped in Bucky’s cozy shirt and strong arms, you could’ve died happy.

“I’m so glad you like it, baby…” Bucky couldn’t help but beam. He always saw himself as inadequate, having nothing of any value to offer. You were the epitome of perfection, beautiful and sweet and kind- and he was the former Winter Soldier with PTSD and a staring problem. But seeing you so earth-shatteringly happy to wear his shirt melted his heart. He couldn’t believe he’d been the one to make you smile that way, and vowed to do it for the rest of his life.

“You should just keep it,” he said, too over the moon to care about losing his favorite shirt, “it’s yours now, doll.”

Bucky’s words brought your rush of happiness to a screeching halt. “Buck, no. I can’t take it-” You stared at him with big, uncertain eyes, “it’s your favorite”.

But Bucky would hear none of your refusals. “No, you’re my favorite. Plus, I want you to have it! It would make me very, very happy, baby.” He adjusted your lopsided collar and brushed your hair out of your face, drinking you in, “it looks perfect on you. And this way, you’ll have it while I’m away on missions, you know?”

His words warmed your cheeks, and on the surface, you appeared happier than ever. But conflict raged inside you. This was the sort of romantic thing you’d dreamed of, but never dared act out. Knowing Bucky was more than happy to sacrifice his favorite shirt just for you made you feel loved, made you feel special. But it stirred your anxiety none the less. You couldn’t just steal his clothes- especially not his favorite shirt.

“But are you-”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Bucky laughed, “Baby, you literally sighed with relief when you put it on- I can’t just not give it to you!” Bucky knew you were sweet and always selfless, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint your reluctance to accept his offer. He knew you loved him, loved being his best girl- why the hesitancy?

“Can we compromise?” You slipped from Bucky’s arms and stood before him, offering your hand for a shake. “How about I sleep in it for tonight- and then I wash it and give it back? And then, if you’re still sure about giving it to me, you can- HEY!”

Bucky’s broad shoulders connected with your thighs as he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder. “No compromises!” he shouted as he flopped you down on to the bed, “No compromises!” His hands made quick work of your sides, tickling you until you begged for mercy. One threatening hand hovered just above your ribcage, teasing you with more uproarious torture, “You still wanna compromise, doll?’

“No, I- truce! Truce!” 

“You sure?” he ghosted a few fingers over your side, “you suuuuuure you’re sure?”

“I’m sure!” you shrieked, “I promise!” 

Bucky peppered your face with kisses, dotting them along your forehead and cheeks before landing one on your lips. He was certain your adamant refusal to accept his shirt had passed- but something was off. A strange tension kept your smile tight-lipped and your jaw tense, as though you feared you were in trouble.

“Is something bothering you, sweets? You seem kind of anxious…” He helped sit you up and pulled you into his lap, “what’s goin’ on?”

Dread eclipsed any sliver of levity left within you- and suddenly, you hated yourself for ever making this an issue. You should’ve just accepted the stupid shirt and ‘accidentally’ left it behind when you went home. Simple as that. But no, you had to make it a big deal, drawing attention to yet another one of your idiosyncrasies.  

“Ugh, no, I’m fine. I just-” you huffed, “obviously, I’ve got some like, weird habits and tendencies and stuff. And I have stupid anxieties about random things…” A strong rush of shame pulled your eyes down, fixing your gaze on your hands.

Bucky refused to let you alienate yourself that way, “hey, I have anxiety about random things, too. I had a panic attack on the G train last week because someone dropped their aluminum water bottle and it was just a little too loud for me.” He tilted your chin upward, “so it’s okay. Just talk to me”.

"Okay, but that's not the same thing, Buck. You have actual trauma. And very real PTSD. My thing isn't-"

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you. His hand dropped back to your waist, threatening more torturous tickling if you didn't speak up.

"Okay, fine," a frustrated sigh forced its way from your chest. “I hate, hate feeling like an imposition or an inconvenience or an annoyance…”

Bucky stared at you, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you never elaborated. “Um, sweets, I don’t- I’m sorry, I’m confused. What does that have to do with the shirt?”

“Taking your shirt makes me feel like an imposition!” you nearly shouted. “Like, right now, I am incredibly comfortable because this shirt is fucking cozy as hell. But, my brain is like, vibrating with anxiety. I asked to borrow my ex’s shirt for a day once because I spilled coffee all over mine, and he let me... But he gave me shit about it for months. He always made me feel bad- like I was an annoyance or a bother…” 

Bucky’s heart broke. 

“He always made me feel like I was inconveniencing him with my presence. He’d invite me over, but then he'd act annoyed that I was there."

It was embarrassing to admit. And you feared that if you told Bucky these things, maybe he'd treat you the same way. But it was too late. You were too deep into the truth to stop now. "He never let me just, I don’t know, hang out, you know? He'd ask me to come over at like nine at night and then kick me out around midnight. I'm not saying he wasn't allowed to have boundaries, but..." You sighed and regrouped. "If I slept at his place, he’d wake me up at seven in the morning and tell me I needed to leave- even on the weekends. It almost like I was a booty call."

"Oh, sweetheart..."

"He didn’t want me asking to borrow his jacket if I was cold or impeding his space in any way. I asked once if I could leave a toothbrush at his apartment, and he got angry at me- said it was ‘impolite’. I was with him for quite a while, and he did a lot of things like that... the entire time we were together, he acted like everything I did was a nuisance. To him, my existence was an imposition.”

Puzzle pieces of your behavior slowly began falling into place for Bucky. He’d noted a few of your habits that struck him as a little different, but he never brought them up. He’d never say anything and possibly make you self-conscious. But now that you’d drawn him a picture, he understood.

“So, that’s why you always pack a bag when you come to my place, instead of just leaving some things here? Even though you’re here almost every night?”

You nodded.

“And why I have to very explicitly and clearly invite you over- like you’re a vampire?”

“Yeah…”

“And why I have to basically beg you to just laze around here with me?”

“Mhmm”

“And why you always knock, even though I gave you a key?”

Another nod.

“And why you insisted on making the trek home in below freezing weather just to grab a t-shirt?”

Once more, you nodded with downcast eyes.

“Oh, baby, that’s- I’m sorry”, he wrapped his arms around you a bit tighter, holding you close to his body. “That’s terrible. I mean, letting your girl wear your shirts to bed is like, the bare minimum. And he really- I’m sorry, I can’t get past him waking you up just so he could kick you out.”

The memories of those days were humiliating, sometimes even a bit shameful. You’d known at the time that you didn’t deserve to be treated like a burden, but it took you nearly three years to leave. And even though you hadn’t spoken to or seen your ex in years, the ghosts of his mistreatment still haunted you.

“Can you look at me, doll?” Once you dragged your eyes up to meet his, Bucky took your face in his hands. “I want you to hear me very clearly when I say this, okay?”

“Okay…”

“You are not, never have been, and never will be: a bother, a burden, or an inconvenience of any kind. You can wear my clothes, eat my food- steal my car, I don’t care, baby. I am yours, completely and totally. I want you here. Always. You can never overstay your welcome or impose- this is just as much your home as it is mine. Sleep in, leave a toothbrush here… Hell, you can leave an entire wardrobe in my closet- I’ll put my clothes in garbage bags.”

You laughed at his exaggerations and dramatics, but his lighthearted words carried an air of seriousness. Bucky wanted you. He prioritized you and cherished you, to the point that you sometimes thought he was a little nuts. 

“Buck, I don't- I'm not even sure how to respond to that. I mean, I've never felt wanted like this before,” you nuzzled your face into his neck, happily breathing in his warm scent. “You have no idea the weight you just lifted off my chest- I’ve kind of been walking on eggshells. I'm trying so hard not to step out of line in our relationship, cause I just- I want you to want me.” You cringed, "Awesome, now I'm quoting Cheap Trick songs..."

Bucky threw his head back in a laugh, "Hey, quote all the songs you want, baby." He grew serious all of sudden, eliminating his joking tone. "And just so you know, you don’t have to do any of that anymore. Step outta line, break the eggshells- actually, there are no lines. No eggshells. Not in this relationship."

Bucky’s talent for eliminating your anxiety always blew you away, no matter how many times he pulled you back from the brink. But the tension still lived inside you, lying dormant until the perfect moment to strike. “I can’t promise that I’m not gonna feel this way next month or next week or tomorrow. So, I just wanna say sorry in advance for-”

“Baby, don’t apologize. You don’t have to, okay? I know better than anyone that a few nice words from your significant other can’t instantly fix your problems- if that were the case, I wouldn’t have panicked on the subway”. He shot you a wink, but dropped the goofy grin as he stared down at you, “any time you feel this way, any time you need reminding- just tell me. I’ll be more than happy to say all of this again. Because I love you, I want you- you’re my girl. And I’d do anything for you.”

————————————

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[nobodysdaydreams]

Are you Christian? hope that doesn't sound accusatory

Anon. I love you, but please know there is no possible way to drop into a stranger’s ask box anonymously demanding to know personal information (age, sex/gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, religion, nationality, diagnoses, etc.) without sounding somewhat accusatory or at the very least a little nosey (because why do you need to know that), but reading your disclaimer did make me smile despite my apprehension regarding this inquiry, so I appreciate you adding that in.

This is also a weird one because I genuinely don’t know what answer you are hoping for or if you’re just curious and enjoy dropping into people’s inboxes to ask if they’ve heard the good word of Jesus Christ which I have to admit, is an interesting strategy though not one I’d recommend. I was gonna answer this anon with something like “what are you a cop?” Or “come back with warrant” (classic) but then upon reflection, realized I should probably clear some stuff up in case you are confused. So, uh, to answer the question, yes, I am, though that will require some explanation as religion is not really what this blog is for. This blog is where I dump my hyperfixations, rants about life, links to my fanfics, and maybe make a few friends along the way. Some of the media I engage with like Narnia happens to be Catholic/Christian, or have Christian themes, or be popular in Christian circles, but that’s more coincidental. This blog really has no clear organization at all, I just see stuff I like or personally identify with, reblog, and that’s that, so it’s mostly fandom content, but stuff on neurodivergence and disability slips in a lot because I identity with a lot of it and happen to know a fair amount about it, so it makes sense to have it on my blog from time to time.

Now, I believe you might be coming into my ask box to ask about this because I recently started following and reblogging a few posts from Christian content creators. The reason for that is ironically similar to the reason I got this blog in the first place. I had no one irl to talk about fandoms and hyperfixations with, and people didn’t want me talking about them irl, so I came here to do that, met a lot of nice people, we rant about fandoms together, it’s a good time. Currently, I’m not around people irl who are Christian, so I’ve started coming here for that too, and it’s worked out pretty great. Met some nice people, talked about headcanons and such, found a few neurodivergent Christians and the intersectionality is nice, mostly good stuff.

The one issue I ran into was that a good number of my established followers and mutuals have religious trauma or don’t like religion very much, so to be sensitive to that, I tag every reblog of a religious post “tw religion” or “tw religion mention” so that they know to block the tags if they don’t wanna see it, and then I save my long rants on Christian headcanons and stuff like that for private DM’s and discord conversations with mutuals who are interested in that. It’s just something I do to try to be respectful and acknowledge that while this is something that’s brought a lot of joy and positivity in my life, not everyone has experienced it that way, and they might not want to see that on their dash, and it can be genuinely triggering for people.

But while this seemed like a good idea at the time, I now realize why you probably feel the need to ask about my religious background, which is why I feel obligated to answer your question. Because… most people who reblog posts with “tw religion” have something to say against it, but people who like religion will just reblog the post. Which I now realize, upon reflection, leads to a lot of Christian creators getting notifications like “uh oh! Someone reblogged your art with the hashtag “tw religion” wonder what rant they have against you” and then they check and it’s just me going “wow nice art, Happy Easter and God Bless You, you’re incredibly talented 🥰, and also TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CONTENT!” and on the flip side it’s also probably weird for everyone who sees the hashtag “tw religion” and is like “haha…nice. A rant against faith. I gotta see this!” only to click on the post and see some really well drawn art of Jesus and the children with a ton of positivity. So um… sorry for confusion?

To make a long story short, yes, I’m Christian, but this blog is mostly fandom content, that’s why I created it and that’s what I’m here for. I do incorporate a lot of Christian themes in my fic writing just like I incorporate elements of my neurodivergence into my writing as well, but my writing is not explicitly Christian, anyone can enjoy it. You’re allowed to like things by different groups that you are not part of while still not completely agreeing with everything that particular group believes. I promise it’s okay, that’s how humans work, none of us will ever think completely alike, but we can still enjoy each other’s stuff sometimes. I promise the world won’t end because you liked a fanfic where I wrote Nicholas’ speech to Martina about forgiveness and how she’s still a good person to parallel God’s mercy and love for us, you can still like it and like the message while not agreeing with my idea of who God is or that there even is a God at all. Most if not all the characters in Wolf 359 are atheists, and I still enjoy the podcast (though I will note before people come in my comments about this, yes, there is obviously some nuance to this atheism as canonically Minkowski is culturally Christian, Doug kinda knows the our father and probably got dragged to church on Christmas/his birthday and Easter at some point, Daniel Jacobi’s name has Jewish origins so the character likely has some Jewish background, Maxwell is ex-evangelical, Hera strikes me as spiritual but not religious, Cutter and Pryce are atheists who left religion but kept all the toxic parts so they could make themselves gods, and this last one actually has no canon evidence whatsoever, but I firmly believe that Kepler is specifically agnostic not atheist, and he goes out of his way to emphasize this by saying stuff like “due to the limits of the human mind, we can never really know the truth about the big picture” or something like that, but I know he has a speech about it. No disrespect to my agnostic followers, but unfortunately I think Kepler would do this).

That tangent aside, I will end by saying this. I have all sorts of people following this blog: Christians, atheists, people of other faiths, members of the LGBTQ+ community, neurodivergent folks, BIPOC, and more, and they followed me for my unhinged rants and fandom content. They didn’t come here to have their identities and beliefs bashed, and due to the fandoms I am in, many of them are also minors. And I am so, so, scared about what my reply to this anon might bring to this blog, no matter the answer, so let me be very clear: if you use this post, or any of my posts, to spread hate and negatively towards anybody, you’re blocked. I have already done this a few times when I’ve seen it around tumblr. If you think it was a mistake, let me know, but I’m not exposing my young followers to that. That’s not gonna help anybody, and there are so many better things you could be doing with your time.

With that said, if the tagging system is not working out, and you’d prefer I put the religious stuff on a side blog my non-Christian followers can block while still enjoying my usual content on the main, I can do that too. Whatever makes it easier for y’all.

*this would be a bummer, because I just hit an even 200, which is tricky to do when all you got is two of the tiniest fandoms alive and not much else. But look after yourself, I wish you well, and I’ll get over it.

#Bods Answers #I’m not dumb enough to put fandom tags on this #Not for all the money in the world #Bods Polls #tw religion #tw religion mention #Long post

[oddduckthatgirl]

The Eyes of the Dragon

Summary: the Prince arrives at Casterly Rock

Pairing: Deamon Targaryen x Lannister!oc

A/N: This is the third installment in my AU story. You can read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 here. I appreciate all that likes, reblogs and comments. Thank you for reading and interacting!

Jaylon had not slept well. She tossed and turned most of the evening. She watched as the early morning sun bathed her chambers in light. Anxious energy coursed through her veins and she knew the only remedy. She dressed in her riding attire and decided to stay hidden until closer to midday once her obligation this morning had ended.

She broke her fast with her father, step-mother and Jasline. They all gave her a look upon seeing her attire but nothing was said. Jaylon sat in silence while her family discussed the events of the coming day. She tried to not pay more attention than needed to. Her brothers with their wives would be arriving sometime after midday. She knew to be expected at dinner but other than that she had resigned herself to be on her own.

Once the morning meal was finished, she walked back to her chambers and into seclusion. She felt a hand hook her arm. Jasline laughed at her jolt of surprise, “oh now dear sister. Certainly you do not plan on riding all day.”

“No. I’m going to hide in my chamber until near midday and then I shall go for a ride. All the while you will dazzle the Prince with your beauty and charm. By dinner, his Highness will have found his perfect match.”

“Yes, after I tell him all about you he will.”

“Jasline,” choosing her next words carefully, “I see you are committed to this but please don’t squander your chance or perhaps undermine everything for the idea of love.”

“Love is the greatest gift we have. I would risk everything for Thomas.”

She wanted to tell her to not be juvenile. Instead she remained silent. 

“You need not worry. I can be extremely persuasive.”

“I am well aware of your ability to sway the opinion of almost anyone. I fear that if his opinion is swayed, I will be blamed by Father for undermining his idea. That somehow I convinced you to do this for me and he will never forgive me.”

Jasline hugs her tightly, “I will shoulder the blame. Even if he wishes to blame you, I will ensure he will not and cannot.”

The sisters stand in each other's embrace for a few moments of silence. Jasline felt Jaylon slump against her. She believed her sister to be the strongest person in the Seven Kingdoms. However she also knew that she was the safest place for Jaylon to be let her guard down. She also knew to not mention the feeling of wetness now present on her shoulder. 

“All will be well,” she whispered while rubbing circles on Jaylon’s back, “I’m sure he is a wonderful man despite the rumors. He is clearly fiercely loyal to his family. He will be loyal to you. Do not be afraid, sister.”

Jaylon nods and stands away from her sister. She wipes her tears, “I will endeavor to not be.”

Their quiet was interrupted by a thundering sound overhead. They looked to the sky to see the shadow of a dragon.

Jasline smiles, “I should be going. I will see you at dinner then?”

Jaylon nods and disappears into her chambers. Jasline begins her walk back to the courtyard. She went over everything she wanted to say. She knew how important it was to present Jaylon as an attraction other than herself. She felt a sense of calm come over her and she knew to her very core this was the right course of action.

What she couldn’t prepare herself for was the actual sight of him. She was formally introduced by her father and she gave her best curtsey. As her eyes met his, it nearly stole her breath. Targaryens are known for their appearances and Jasline now understands why. The silver hair was an obvious sign but his eyes, violet. She had never seen anything like it. For a moment, she had forgotten how to speak. 

“Lady Jasline, a pleasure,” inclining his head as he spoke.

“The pleasure is entirely ours, Your Highness. You honor our house with this visit.”

There were more pleasantries exchanged and her father conducted a small tour of the grounds. Daemon seemed to at least feign interest in the words your father was speaking. No matter how fine Casterly Rock is, it is not the scale of the Red Keep or even Dragonstone. He is at least polite enough to carry on conversation with only the occasional glance to Jasline.

She did her best to keep herself calm, knowing soon she would be relatively alone with the Prince. Her father would chaperone them but keep his distance. She hoped he would catch on to what she was hinting at. She was taken out of her reverie by being asked to show His Highness the gardens.

“Shall we then,” smiling softly as she speaks.

He motions for her to lead the way. Her father trails behind. She gives information to the Prince about the flowers growing or about the path to walk. He listened to her politely. When she reached a point that she was sure her father had stopped listening, she lowered her voice, “I’m sure that you could care less about these gardens.”

“Am I so transparent,” mirth lighting his violet eyes.

“I would like to say I am glad I have been given the opportunity to meet you. I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t apologize for my younger sister Jaylon not being there to greet you.”

“She had duties to attend to, or so I’m told.”

Jasline sighs, “I’m afraid she has this habit of not conforming to formality. So it was advantageous for her to not be present.”

He smiles, “She sounds delightful.”

“She is delightful and beautiful, if I must say. Her hair is lighter than mine and her eyes are a shade of blue and gray. She’s quite well read and speaks seven languages. She is also more adept at High Valyrian than I.”

“Lady Jasline, if I didn't know better I would say you were trying to turn my attention.”

“Am I so transparent,” she returns his words.

“Very well then. Shall we be more honest with each other?”

“As you wish my Prince.”

He stops to appear to admire some plant, “I know that you have been exchanging letters with a Baratheon. A great deal of them.”

“Thomas, your Highness. I love him.”

“Then, why would your father agree to this at all?”

“Thomas is a second son and fifth born. I am an eldest daughter. Father believes him to not be worthy of me, even with a prior marriage, which I know you have knowledge of as well. I have a way that we could be of greater assistance to each other and in turn to my sister.”

“I’m listening.”

“I cannot presume to know your mind or what you were told about the need for you to be wed. I can only hope the desire was for a Lannister bride, not a specific one of us.”

His eyes locked on hers, “then why exclude your sister from greeting me?”

“Father believes her to not be suited for you. For all her strengths and intelligence, she can be quite strong willed. In addition to that, she does have a reputation amongst the Lords of Westeros. Seeing as no match has been found for her.”

“If you’re asking what I know of her, she sounds as if she will not suffer a brute or a simple man. She also sounds as if she is not afraid to speak her mind.”

“She is not afraid of that. What she does fear is a life that will be dull. She told me there is more to being a wife than bringing an heir forth. That one must have the strength to support her husband even when every other person defies them. As much of a warrior as you are, she would be one for you.”

“One has to wonder,” he takes in the view as to not draw any attention, “you wish to put your sister in my way. To have me take her to wed even against the wishes of your father. Why?”

“Your Highness,” she sighs, “it would be unfair to you to force you to wed someone who loves another.”

“It would be. No more unfair than asking you to stop feeling for him the way you do,” the two of you rounded the path back toward the courtyard, “I can choose whomever I wish. So, how can I be of service to you Lady Jasline?”

“My sister has told me many times that marriages are arrangements. All I need is mine to be arranged. My words to my father fall on deaf ears….”

A wry grin crawls across his face, “but the word of a Prince and heir to the throne would carry all the weight you need to ensure your happiness.”

Tears well in her eyes, “I would owe you a great debt. However, I believe the gift of my sister would be enough for repayment.”

“A Lannister that would even propose a debt? You are most serious my Lady,” gripping the hilt of his sword, “I should like to speak with her without calling attention to her.”

“She has said that she would be riding near midday. There is a young mare who she favors that is a bit restless. Perhaps my Prince could take leave to check on his mount and find his way to our stables that are just off the courtyard?”

He laughs and she thinks it’s a privilege to hear, “not that you have given any thought to this.”

She mimics a look of shock, “of course not my Prince.”

The pair walked back in the direction of Jason Lannister. Daemon was sure to thank Jasline for showing him the gardens, but he skillfully convinced the lord of the house that it would be wise for him to look in on Caraxes lest some farmers lose cattle. 

The ruse was convincing enough. Daemon even assured him he could make his way back to the courtyard without an escort. He had the sense to head in the direction of where he had landed. He took in the ground of Casterly Rock and thought in another life it would have been a fine place to spend his youth. 

What he wasn’t prepared for was the sight of her. He stepped behind the shade of trees as she rode towards the stables. She is far more fair than her sister, he thought. She was clearly a skilled rider; she had complete control of her mount. She radiated joy from her very spirit; it felt as though he was seeing her without any pretenses. That joy made her seem even more beautiful than that was already apparent to him.

Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the day and the ride, blonde braid falling over her shoulder, shirt catching the breeze. Not much was able to render Daemon speechless but she very well might. He decided to try and observe her more closely. He stayed out of sight and crept into the opening of the stables. 

She was trying to coax her mount back into her stall, “Come now Cercsi, you’ve had your fun. I know you needed it. You’ll get used to all the attention on you soon young one. Not that it becomes easier.”

The horse seemed to protest more. Daemon couldn’t help his smile. Her voice was lovely, like a song. 

“I really must insist you go back in,” patting along the neck of the horse, “I need to go make myself presentable. Father will be extremely cross if the Prince were to see me like this.”

He looked over her riding attire, while not exactly what a proper lady would wear to court, she looked no less lovely. 

“I’m sure if I am seen and Father finds out, he’ll marry me to a Stark. I don’t believe I can endure Winterfell.”

“How fortunate for Lord Stark then and for you my lady, future queen of the North,” he couldn’t help himself. 

She did not turn. Instead scoffed at the notion, “I’m afraid my disposition isn’t suited for Winterfell good sir.”

“Queen certainly seems to suit you,” treading quietly as he moves a few steps out of the doorway. 

“Titles can be little more than just words. I’ve met Lords and Ladies who are just as regal as one with a birth rite. Also met common people with more honor than some Lords. Words are the least of what makes one deserving of the title: king, queen, Prince.”

“Princess,” a call to the title he hopes to bestow to her.  

“As does good breeding. What man dares to lurk and sneak up on a woman alone,” she turns and faces him. Whatever tongue lashing she had thought to unleash was stolen from her. She flushed pink and quickly bowed, “your Highness. Please accept my apology.”

He crosses the distance between them quickly. Tucking his fingers under her chin, he lifts her eyes to meet his. Gods she was breathtaking, “for speaking your mind? You need not be sorry for that. Especially not for true words spoken with good intent. Birth rite is the very least of what makes anyone worthy of the title King, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jaylon swallows and takes a small step back, “since I fear the answer would be akin to treason it would be wise to say nothing.”

“She told me you were intelligent.”

“Whom do you speak of my Prince? How do you know I’m not more than a simple stable hand?”

His fingers brush the braided golden hair over her shoulder. To her credit she didn’t turn away from him. Brave girl, he thought, “it’s the hair.”

Cheeks burning with color as she attempts to stay calm, “I suppose it is no easier to hide I’m a Lannister than to conceal your own heritage, your Highness.”

Eyes locked with her, “Daemon. Please,” he holds his palm open and she places her hand in his. Daemon swore he felt his blood hum, “and you my Lady?”

“Jaylon,” her head swam when his lips kissed her fingers, “I do really need to get her to her stall.”

“Of course,” he allows her to focus her attention on her mount, “I saw you ride in. It was an impressive sight.”

“Thank you….Daemon. Our horses are some of, if not the best trained and bred steeds in all of Westeros. She is just young; this is her first season.”

He allows the mare to smell him before he rubs his hand along her snout, “she seems agreeable enough.”

“Her temperament is wonderful, like all our horses. She is just a bit headstrong. At times, she needs a ride to alleviate the anxious energy she feels. We often do this dance when I bring her back in.”  

He smiles as he chooses his next actions. He takes the lead and gives a small firm tug. The mare follows his lead into her stall. Triumphant, Daemon latches the door, “perhaps the lady just needs a firm hand to guide her.”

I don’t believe he’s talking about the horse,” she mused. Jaylon did her best to not be so taken by him. It is no wonder that most consider Targaryens closer to Gods than men. His confidence. His intelligence. His appearance. He was everything these lesser lords could ever dream to be. A Prince in every meaning of the word, heir to the Iron Throne. A powerful dragon with his gaze fixed on her.

He stood as close to her as would be deemed appropriate, “I do wish you had been there to greet me this morning. What duties would have kept you from greeting your Prince?”

“My duty to not be noticed,” she blanched at her own honesty, “forgive me. That was…”

He held up his hand to dismiss the words, “Honest. Admittedly, I could see why your Lord father would want to hide you away. You are a rare beauty.”

Her eyes dropped, “you would tire of saying that. As any man would.”

“Lesser men, perhaps. I will say it until you believe it, Jaylon. They will be the last words on my lips.”

Before she could respond, the voice of Jason Lannister filled the stables, “your Highness please accept my apologies for the appearance of my youngest daughter.”

Daemon masked his amusement with a look of confusion, “whatever for. I was coming back after seeing Caraxes and I saw a rider pass. I was so taken with the sight of the steed, I found my way here to ask my questions about your stock. It would appear it is the best in the Seven Kingdoms. And your daughter was very helpful in addressing any questions I had.”

For once in his life, Jason Lannister was dumbfounded. 

“She was riding and dressed for the occasion. No need to apologize or scold,” Daemon’s eyes drifted to Jaylon’s. He watched her skin burn under his gaze, “I will accept your apology for hiding the best stock from my sight.”

“Of course your Highness,” Jason at least had the sense to agree, “I trust then you were pleased with our stables and our stock?”

“Very pleased,” eyes never leaving Jaylon, “so much so I will ensure my brother knows that only Lannister stock will fill the royal stables.”

“Your Highness,” Jaylon says, “Lord Father. As it would appear this is gentlemen’s business, I would ask to take my leave so I can prepare for dinner.”

“Yes of course,” Daemon inclines his head, “although I cannot imagine it would not take more than a change of clothing for you to appear more presentable, my Lady.”

“My Prince is too kind,” she bows,  hoping he wouldn’t notice how flushed her skin was. 

As she walks away, Daemon waits until she’s out of sight before making his next move. He walks to each stall and surveys each animal. They are of good stock and should serve the City Watch well.

“I wasn’t keeping her from you,” Jason whispers. 

“You weren’t exactly forthcoming.”

“She is my youngest and second born daughter. Hardly worthy of a Prince. She doesn’t have the regard for formality and duty as Jasline does.”

“You forget yourself my Lord,” Daemon brushes the mane of a curious horse, “I am a second son. Also a Prince. I know what is worthy of me.”

“I urge you then,” Jason pleaded with him, “consider that she has rejected or been rejected by every eligible lord in the Seven Kingdoms. For two years I have done my utmost to find a match for her and still none would suit. She is obstinate and can be quite vexing. Jasline is far more suited to a life at court. She would be the most dutiful wife.”

Daemon knew not to press him more. He simply nodded and turned the conversation back to business. He will be more than happy to explain himself later in the evening. 

Not as happy as seeing what Jaylon would present herself in at dinner. 

#hotd #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon x oc #daemon au #oddduckthatgirl #secondsarewelcome

[existslikepristin]

Okay, so I had someone send me an ask last night and now I've been thinking about it all day. It wasn't anonymous, which I appreciate, but I'm not responding to it directly for because

I reached out already to say I'd do some editing, and I've let them know the rest of what I'm about to rant on below, but I want to make sure at least a few more people see this

I flip flop around on how to say this shit all the time. Like, do I say that everyone's a good writer in their own special way? Do I say that you don't need likes and reblogs for validation? I don't fucking know what to say except for maybe one more thing that I'll reiterate until the day I die with various embellishments that will fade in and out

You. Yes you, the person who's reading this who is also a writer/aspiring writer. Come closer. We share a bond, you and I, so really get in physically close

Art can't be contained, you scrunge

If you don't think whatever you're creating is art, go to a damn museum. Or do a virtual tour. Or google the phrase "modern art". It doesn't matter. You're going to see some shit in there that, I would hope, makes you think the artist was a dipwad

I'm ranting more than I thought I would. Here's a keep reading line

You know who fucking sucks at art? Pablo Picasso.

Look at this absolute pile of bullshit, then look me in the eye, and tell me this isn't the colorized manifestation of an elementary school dropout's Wattpad account

"But ELP, Picasso demonstrated actual working knowledge of anatomy. This is just his AbstRACt sTyLe"

SHUT UP. Nobody asked you, Barbara

Picasso, Piet Mondrian, Andy Warhol. Their artworks are money laundering schemes. Their fame doesn't come from their talent. It comes from obscenely rich people trading blood diamond money for crisp, clean, still-fake money by claiming that poor people "don't get it"

And yet, despite popular opinions being developed because of ridiculous sums of money being pegged up these guys' assholes, artists today still find meaning in their works, tunneling straight through their cognitive dissonance to tell themselves that, no, I actually enjoy staring at blocks of washed out color until my retinas have burnt in just the right spots that I can see an actual human face because an art teacher once told me that these pictures got the most likes on the pre-internet Tumblr

Does that mean people don't actually like this art? Am I trying to tell you you shouldn't like this art? Maybe, but then you'd be obligated to remind me that Churchgirleum Yawjinius is a disgusting assault on your imagination and yet has as many likes as Definitely Real Medicine, which you wouldn't believe was actually written with all the earnestness my void of a chest cavity could muster

Take it from someone who willingly threw away the opportunity for automatic dozens of reblogs and hundreds of likes per post by telling people to fuck themselves (and still gets a bunch for some reason):

The validation is cool, but it's not worth it

The validation does not define what is good or not

What is good or not doesn't even matter

You're not going to make money off this shit

Someone who is genuinely terrible is going to get more validation than you, and is going to flaunt it in your face, and their writing is still somehow going to mean something to way too many people, and it doesn't matter because their soul is just as unfulfilled by the validation as yours is unfulfilled by the lack of it

What is fulfilling is doing something because you can

You are your only source of real validation, no matter what fuzzy dopamines you get from the vapid click of a like button

Oh, and if you do get the validation of Tumblr notes, that doesn't mean your work is shit or you don't deserve love or whatever. Accept it graciously because it's definitely not uncool that people like your shit, but recognize that it's not going to cure your depression

Art is art. We can look at Roman columns and marvel at how their art built modern civilization (though the Romans can fuck themselves IMO (oh wait they literally did haha)), but did it really? Art makes otherwise brutalist architecture tolerable, but the curly Qs at the bases and tops of columns isn't what kept the coliseum from collapsing on thousands of people watching live murder

If you have a story that has overstayed its welcome in your head and needs to be on paper or on a screen, then write the fucking story. Nobody actually cares about the qUaLiTy of your spelling or grammar. They care about being given permission to think about Karina's tits. Do you think their opinion matters?! I mean, they may have great contributions to make on their own, and they should have voting rights, and it's chill if they have something nice to say to you, but the point is that they're already thinking about Karina's tits regardless of your writing. They're just your thralls to manipulate into thinking about Karina's tits in the way that you, the all-powerful artist, want them to think about Karina's tits. If they try to tell you "Karina's tits would have tan lines" then write a whole fic about how Karina is a nudist and has a perfectly even tan, and who's going to argue about it? The idiot who wrote a pedantic comment? No! It's YOU. THE ALL-FUCKING-POWERFUL ARTIST WHO ACTUALLY MADE SOMETHING TO PROVE YOUR POINT WHETHER OR NOT IT IS CORRECT

If you're an artist, then fucking act like one. Embrace the chaos inherent in creativity. Maybe gentleman is vampire. The poison contains joy. We exist in these devastating, beautiful worlds of contradiction in which we hate people and how lonely we are, we crave kindness and embody violence, and we beg the universe to give us direction despite knowing full well that we're going to zigzag between paths. Maybe you relate. Maybe you don't. THAT'S THE POINT. You're not right. I'm not right. We both write (wow, bars)

I keep saying that everyone should just write, and it's not because I think everyone is secretly a good writer. It's because someone out there needs permission to write after being told their entire lives that their value lies in A, or they're not good if B by all the non-artists in who genuinely don't understand why someone needs to make something impractical to begin the infinitely long road to completion

The dumb fucks who don't understand want to contain you because it's in their nature to desire order. They like to come up with metrics to categorize what counts as art and what doesn't so they can change the rules on you. Chaos always wins though

So WRITE. The world doesn't need your artistry. YOU DO. If you write a bunch of shit and people like it but you quit anyway or nobody likes it and you quit, then idk. Maybe you weren't an artist in the first place, which is perfectly fine, or maybe you're giving your corporate overlords too much control over your mind. If you're an artist, you'll burn with the need to create, no matter how much you create. If you feel that, keep writing

[jerzwriter]

Hey there, so I am just a choices-adjacent lurker, and I've been following the Elsa/Jared drama for some time now. I don't know either of you personally. And from what I've seen, I have come to the conclusion that this situation is solidly an Every Sucks Here situation. Maybe this is not my place to say, but honestly for everyone's sake involved in the fandom, Jared complaining about you on their blog daily and you ignoring and/or vaguing lim is honestly not productive. So here's my take on things. (I am sending a slightly tailored version of this to Jared as well)

JARED: Elsa is not walking evil. In fact, she does a ton of work for this fandom for free. "Who let her have this power over our fandom by running the fic account" no one did. She saw something she could do to help the fandom, and she did it. If she wasn't doing it, then we wouldn't have a choicesficcreations blog and there would be no fic archive. She certainly spends UNPAID hours every single week curating fic lists, going through tags, and organizing fandom fics to encourage people to keep producing. Constantly complaining about her and how horrible she is isn't helping anyone, it will just make her angrier at you and even less likely to listen to your grievances. Yes, the Open Heart fandom is extremely active and yeah, it's mostly cishet MCs, but that doesn't make anyone "evil" if they're creating that way. It's probably mostly cishet players who are projecting onto their MCs so it's enjoyable for them, the same way you want to project onto your characters, and that looks different for everyone. As long as no one is actively sending you anon hate or shitting on you for your character interpretations or ships, then it's okay. They're not evil for not liking or reblogging your trans Ethan art if that's not something they feel drawn to, just like you're not evil for ignoring the twelfth fmc x ethan pregnancy fic of the week. People should create and interact with what makes them feel happy and if you see something you don't like, scroll past. It goes both ways. The truth is that most of the OH art and fics are cishet because that's what most of the active creators are. I don't know how we got here, but that is what it is, and current creators aren't terrible for creating cishet fics and art, and they aren't obligated to like or reblog your takes on the characters. But guess what, you have wonderful friends who enjoy your takes on the characters, so appreciate that. Make art for them, create stories for people in your niche. If anyone attacks you for doing that, they suck. Someone saying on their own blog "I don't ship Ethias" is not attacking you. Someone saying on their own blog "Ethias is incest because they're brothers" is gross and should be called out.

ELSA: Just buckle down and apologize. You hurt someone. Multiple someones, apparently, based on that call-out post. That doesn't make you irredeemable because everyone says and does things that hurt people, even if they have the best of intentions. But acknowledge the fact that if there is a pattern of queer people feeling hurt and unwelcomed by the fandom, and that with your influence in the fandom, you are partially responsible for that unwelcoming atmosphere. Acknowledge the fact that you have a big platform and a ton of followers and friends who love and respect you, and will see what you do and use that to guide their own behavior. You probably didn't send anons off to attack Jared intentionally, but you need to take responsibility for that because your vague-blogging and so forth inspired people to try to defend you, and they attacked someone else on your behalf. Your apology shouldn't be to use them as a scapegoat, like "I NEVER condone anon hate, y'all are terrible and not affiliated with me" it should be, "I don't condone anon hate and think it's wrong, and am so sorry that my thoughtless post emboldened other users to think that using anon hate was a justifiable response to defend me." This is the responsibility that comes with having a big following. I know that you're bi and that's great. That doesn't mean that you have experience with every single facet of the LGBTQIA+ community. You are a bi woman. That does not make you an expert on what's hurtful to a trans person, a gay or bi man, an acespec person, etc. So listen to people when they try to tell you if something was hurtful and apologize. The last thing you should do is double down because when you do, it becomes clear that you care more about how you are perceived and being RIGHT than being kind. And I think that you truly are a kind person who wants to do good and make the world a better place. So basically, take some responsibility for this issue. You're an adult with a platform. Learn, do better, listen, and apologize. And make an active effort to support queer and trans creators who may feel alienated by this fandom at times. With your influence in the fandom, you have the capacity to make this a better place for everyone but that will never happen if you continue to hide behind a mask of "positivity" and believe yourself to be the victim of a smear campaign, without recognizing your role in all of this.

That's all I really had to say. I understand if you don't want to publish this but I really think that if this were AITA the right answer would be ESH. I hope that something I said is helpful and can help set this conflict to rest.

Nonny, I wasn't going to reply because I did not want to give this insanity any oxygen, a space, or a platform. But since line after line was crossed, I had no choice but to do so. So, since I did, I have no reason to not answer you any longer.

Here is my message regarding the things they posted about me that I have seen because, admittedly, I have not seen it all.

If someone stalks your blog for almost a year and pulls at every word you say... they'll find things that are wrong. Trust me, we can look at theirs for 5 min and find PLENTY of things that are wrong. Am I saying I'm perfect? I've never made a mistake? Never said anything stupid? Never had something to learn... or unlearn? No, I am not.

And I am willing to talk to anyone here, not talk, but listen. If I have hurt them, I will have the conversation, and I will apologize, and I will do better. But I will not apologize to people who have been actively bullying me, telling me to KM, telling me to enjoy my s*icide, telling me they wish I would die, and I won't even get into the horrific anons because I cannot prove they came from them - but ironically came in at the same time this other vile shit was posted. Nonny, you cannot think on any planet that acting like that is OK. If I hurt them or anyone else, it was unintentional, and I'm happy to be corrected and learn. That is NOT what has taken place in reverse. They are not the only people in the world with mental health issues; "big blogs" have them, too. (Besides, what's a big blog in a fandom of 10? Trust me, I've gotten much hate because of their intentional posts.)

If you think I'm such a horrible person? Check out the conversation. It's fully posted now.

Do you want me to apologize? I DID with J's freaking seal of approval - it's all in the conversation.

When they decided - without telling me - it was no longer good enough for them - they did not reach out to me like they promised, the public hate campaign was restarted . And that's what it has been, a public hate campaign. Do you think Tumblr gives a shit about me or J? They don't. J's blog was taken down because they violated terms over and over and over again. Should I apologize again, so in a month they change their mind again? And start this shit all over again? Sorry, I gave J a chance. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.

Let's not Donald Trump "good people on both sides" this. NO. I did not start this (J admits that in our conversation). I have posted about this ONE FREAKING TIME vs. their hundreds of times. I tried to rectify it, I apologized. If I hurt anyone, it was completely unintentional; theirs is intentional, and anyone with reasonable comprehension skills can see that.

Oh and for the record, I don't fucking "vague". I'm not an asshole. If I post a fucking life quote and someone sees themself in it - that's on them, not me. Because they are NOT posted to target and I posted shit like that long before this bullshit started. I will SAY when I have something to say... I don't play those games.

You're right, I've given a lot to this fandom, but I'm fucking done. I'm not perfect, but I TRY to be kind, welcoming, I try to support and help - and then there is the otherside. All hate vitriol and never being kind to anyone outside of their friends. Like do SOMETHING positive. SOMETHING constructive. This here is no contribution.

Like everyone here, I'm flawed, and I'm imperfect. UNLIKE everyone here, I'm willing to admit my mistakes, I'm willing to learn, and I am NOT FUCKING WILLING to treat people the way this little group has treated me. Want to discuss hurt? Like this shit hasn't been hurtful. And the anons, babe, I won't even share them they're so disgusting.

So me and my 10 active followers are the problem? Come now. Maybe if others tried being decent people, they'd have more followers themselves.

I'm done with this.

Oh, wait, one more thing. Stop with the why don’t you try supporting queer creators. It’s embarrassing for you. Because in addition, being a queer creator myself, I have and I do support queercreators. I have fucking collaborated with queer creators. I created the LGBTQ archive, so it would be easier to find LGBTQIA works. What exactly is it that you would like me to do. If you’re going to accuse me of something accuse me of something I actually did because supporting queer creators is something I do, and that’s very verifiable.

#asks answered #stop the bulshit equivalency #i'm not saying i don't have some fault #but this is no 50/50

[levil0vesyou]

Oh hey, I realised I can just ask for advice!

(Note: This is (mostly) not ebegging (nothing wrong with ebegging, just wanna be clear) even if it may sound that way in the first section. Please keep reading. It's pretty long tho, sorry. I'll put it under a cut as I am planning to pin it but please, please read it, especially if we're mutuals. Reblogs are welcome, especially within the german blogosphere, but don't feel obligated.)

So as some of you know, my flatmate has locked me out of the kitchen because I didn't have money for groceries and thus kept eating his food. This includes the electric kettle, microwave and most cutlery but I did accidentally keep a spoon that I still have now. (I have a small bottle of dish soap so yes, I can reuse it as I do still have bathroom access.)

I have since received my first unemployment payment which, due to my previous (necessary) overconsumption is mostly gone again now. I have 20€ and change (cash so paypal and my other debtors can't seize it) left for the rest of the month (new unemployment payment should arrive on the 1st) but I'm struggling to make it stretch.

I've been trying to search up advice on this but couldn't find anything useful. If you have links or anything, that'd be awesome. Here's the key points:

I live in Germany so subject to the German costs of living. Because I also can't afford public transport fare, my store choice is pretty much limited to a small-ish Rewe nearby. There's also a Mäc Geiz and a pharmacy but ofc those aren't grocery stores.

I do not have food allergies but I am a vegetarian and unless I'm literally dying, this situation will not change that.

As mentioned I have no access to a kettle, a microwave, a stove, a fridge or any of that. I do have access to my popcorn machine (many years of trusty service, real mvp) but that's it. I have access to a spoon and a sharp knife. Not a chef's knife tho. I do not have access to spices.

My mental health is still very bad, I cannot leave the house some days and I don't think I'd be able to do anything elaborate. Thus, whatever I eat has to be easily (or not at all) prepared but not easily perishable.

At this point, my standards are very low. My current main thing is eating unheated canned food but I'm prepared to eat basically anything I can stomach (excluding meat, as mentioned) in any way that is possible for me. I'm eating unseasoned chickpeas out of a jar right now. They're actually pretty good. I also (under normal circumstances) sometimes eat dry pasta for funsies so that might give you an idea.

I eat a lot. Less at the moment but still above average. I need plenty of carbs or I will still be hungry after. Essentially, pretend I'm feeding two people here.

I keep craving salt. I'm usually decent at telling what foods my body needs by cravings so I've been eating many crisps since I no longer have a spice cabinet. But they're 'spensive. I've also been craving eggs but I have no way to indulge since afaik boiled eggs are only sold around Easter. Also fruit juice but I can eat some vitamin gummies I still have instead, that'll probably be fine.

As stated, the budget is 20€ for 1½ weeks. I do have a bit of food already, some Zwieback, a pack of Leibniz cookies, a small jar of applesauce, a (hopefully not too spicy) can of chili sin carne, stuff like that. Also some hardtack I made months ago and just now remembered, but not a lot of it and I have no way to soak it, tho I might be able to clean an empty can.

While I'm not hoping to inflict permanent damage on my body, I am willing to take a few more risks than I usually would. That said, I can barely handle one or two short grocery trips a week so foraging isn't a good option at the moment. Also, laundry situation is difficult rn so avoiding diarrhea would be awesome 👍

While I am unemployed and legally homeless (I just haven't left yet) I have no documentation for this at the moment. I mention this because some food banks and similar require such documentation. Also, again, I have a very low travel range rn (like... 200m. 500 on a good day) but if you know like some kind of... delivery food bank?? that exists in Bavaria (dm me for the city) that would be incredible.

No, I can't get a job. I literally just tried that (again) and have reached a personal new low as a result. There were some in-between steps (like that fucking clinic) but yea, that's not an option. No, not even home office. No, not even freelance.

This one might seem entitled but. I cannot keep eating the same thing. I do have my samefoods (tho I cannot cook pasta rn for obvious reasons) but especially lately, eating the same thing for more than two or three days in a row has been low key driving me insane. Might be because I've been mostly cut off from society for months, might be because my body is sick of it, who knows. But I need variety. Same thing twice a week is fine, but more than that is pushing it. I'm very sorry.

As stated, this is not an ebegging post and I want nobody to feel any kind of obligation but if we're mutuals and you have a German bank account (or Schengen and are willing to pay the fee) and you desperately want to, you may dm me about it. But you do not have to!!! And I literally only say this because I know what it feels like to be on the other end of this. No, paypal is not an option, I'm triple digits in the red there. Water droplet on a hot stone etc.

What I am looking for is advice, especially from people who have dealt with severe financial issues and/or homelessness/kitchenlessness before. I've been kitchenless before but I had a fridge, microwave and somewhat reasonable money then so it didn't really prepare me. You can either comment or reblog directly or you can dm me or send me an ask. Anon is enabled.

Either way, thank you so much for taking the time to read all this! I love you, may you have a good day <3

#mine #personal #long post #i don't know how much i can tag this without being obnoxious tbh

[saturncoyote]

hi! tagging anon here -- sorry for my ambiguity lmao. i am going to try to rephrase!

question 1 was: are you alright with being tagged under posts that we think youre likely to be interested in? -- that is, we think there's a very good chance you'd actually be interested in it?

question 2 was: are you alright with being tagged under posts that we're not really sure youd actually be interested in, but it has something in it that reminds us of you? -- that is, we don't know if you'd actually realistically be interested in it, but idk maybe you would be!! we hope!!

also, thank you for the answer!! i totally understand feeling like youre obligated to interact with a post. its okay if you dont like or reblog -- thats your right!! we're the ones bothering you lmao. i will not hit you with bricks for not responding (and ill bite anyone that does)

OH !! yes ! I don't mind !

And really it wouldn't be a bother at all ! If anything it's quite sweet that someone would think of me when seeing a funny post on tungler dot com

#saturn speaks #i know i seem to be growing in popularity as of recently but really i'm just some guy #and i dont mean that in a degrading way #i'm an awesome guy but still just a guy #so don't be afraid to “bother” me

[apoptoses]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

tagged by @this-writer-needs-coffee​ !

1. Are you named after anyone? I have no clue, apparently my mom liked the name Nichole but my dad vetoed so I am what I am now, no reason or explanation provided.

2. When was the last time you cried? oh man, yesterday. I have a lot going on in my life right now that isn’t very savory (severe chronic pain, some new responsibilities that feel beyond me, the slow decline of my last living relative who I have a complex history with). So my capacity for interaction or helping people is really really low most days and it’s just hard.

Because sometimes in fandom there’s like this unspoken feeling of ‘if we’re mutuals we must reblog and comment and interact with everything each of us does’. And like I wanna be supportive but I can’t turn fandom into a job, I can’t feel obligated to come up with Big Thoughts on everything, I can’t even make myself read meta rn because my brain is just on empty. All I can do is write because writing is disassociation time for me.

So I just felt stressed and awful and had a little freak out about it, I guess.

3.Do you have kids? No, no thank you, not for me!

4.Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes. Too much, maybe.

5.What sports do you play/ have played? I don’t really do sports in a traditional sense. I was never on a team growing up, I never learned how to play any kind of ball games.

I guess if you consider jousting, mounted medieval combat/archery, and barrel racing sports then yeah, I do that.

6.What’s the first thing you notice about people? Hands! Like what do they do with their hands, do they fidget do they gesture? Do they have nice nails or are they chewed? Whether someone’s hands are taken care of says a lot to me so I’m always checking that out.

7.What’s your eye colour? Hazel with some fairly big amber discolored spots in them.

8.Scary movies or happy endings? Both! I’ll watch most anything.

9.Any special talents? I pick up most crafts pretty easily I guess. And I can open any jar despite having small hands.

10.Where were you born? In a hospital while my parents watched football.

11.What are your hobbies? Writing fic, 15th/16th century sewing projects. I don’t love gardening but I don’t hate it either, I take care of my plants as best I can. Going to art museums and traveling.

12. Do you have pets? Yes, my horse who lives with his boyfriend about 15 minutes from me.

13.How tall are you? 5′5

14.Favourite subject in school? I didn’t like anything in school haha I was able to read way beyond my grade level starting from first grade and I had severe undiagnosed adhd, so I hated it all. I just wanted to read the passages by myself, fill in the worksheet, and then read my own book instead of keeping pace with the rest of the class. I don’t think I enjoyed a single moment of school.

15.Dream Job? I do not aspire to labor haha If I could support myself doing some kind of creative projects that would make me so happy, but it would have to be stuff I choose and not commissions. I did commissions for a long while and dealing with people is so hard when they want stuff that isn’t really what you want to be making. Or working in a museum, I would enjoy that a lot.

Tagging: anyone who wants to do it, consider yourself tagged!

#apoptoses answers

[nyxelenios]

*·.✴ sparks.

Last Legacy: Sage Lesath (Fictif Games)

❕: fluff, comfort, unedited, spoiler-free for Sage's route. reblogs are very much appreciated!

nyxelenios: i wrote this at 3 am, listening to coldplay. life's not so good to me right now, but i'm really happy i got enough energy to write this :( also i may or may not have gotten motivation from reading my very first last legacy fic skdjsjdkf

"Sage?"

Oh. You're awake.

Sage stops halfway from securing his scabbard around his waist and places it down against the wall. He smiles softly at your half-awake state. Your yawn is adorable, and the way you stretch is just... Gosh, you're gorgeous in the moonlight, warmed up by fluffy blankets and comforted by soft pillows. You look immaculate.

"Hey... Was my armor too loud?" Sage chuckles as he sits on his side of the bed. You laugh softly, half of your face hidden by the squishy pillows on your side of the bed. "Not really... I felt you get up though. What time is it?"

Your hand reaches for his, and he takes it lovingly, gently. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles. There's a small scar on the back of your hand, a little accident from sparring. He glides his thumb over that too.

"It's too early for you to be awake," Sage says. His voice is soft, a slight rasp from the exhaustion in his muscles, the fatigue in his bones. You look up at him with sleepy eyes and a slight pout. He laughs softly and cups your cheek with his other hand. "What?" he asks, amusement dancing somewhere in his tone. Your hand holds his hand that's been cupping your face. He's warm... So comfortably and pleasantly warm.

"That means it's too early for you to be awake too," you tell him. He laughs again. It's your favorite sound of all, one of the many things about him that you cherish so much you'd keep it in little bottles. Everything about Sage is so perfect. His eyes, his smile, his warmth... Moments with him are perfect. Nothing else is without him in the picture.

"You want me back in bed, is that it?" Sage wiggles his eyebrows and you lightly swat his shoulder, laughing at his attempt at flirting with you. "Yes, I want you back in bed, you big old coconut." He feigns being offended, gasping and momentarily letting go of your hand to clutch his chest. "Old!? Coconut?!"

You can't help but snort and laugh at him. You roll away from Sage but he catches you right before you fully face away from him. "Not so fast!" he laughs. You break out into laughter too when you feel his hands find your tickle spots. "Sage! I– I can't breathe!" you wheeze between giggles.

Sage stops and chuckles, then climbs into bed with you. He's taken off his merc 'uniform' and armor now, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

He originally planned on leaving for his room after you've fallen asleep. You would always tell him he was welcome to sleep with you, keep you warm and cozy in this chilly room. He'd oblige, but...

Well, he just thought it was too greedy of him to indulge himself like that. Wasn't it too greedy?

The thought vanishes when he has you in his arms, when you're snuggling close to him, when you're warm and comfortable and safe with him.

You lying next to him just feels right. And when something feels right, it's a good thing, isn't it? Yeah... You're the best thing to ever happen to Sage. It might have been an accident, but it was a happy accident.

But, accident or not, he's grateful you're here. He thanks the gods—or whatever was watching over him and you—for bringing you and him together. Whether in Astraea or on Earth, Sage was sure you and he would always end up together.

"Sleep now," Sage whispers into your ear. Your eyes flutter slowly, and eventually they close. He pulls you close to his chest and rubs circles slowly on your back.

"I love you, Sage..." Your whispers tickle his skin, sending sparks flying everywhere. He smiles and places a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

"I love you too. So much."

© nyxelenios, 2022

#last legacy fictif games #fictif games #last legacy #last legacy sage lesath #fictif sage lesath #sage lesath fictif #sage lesath #sage lesath x reader #last legacy sage #fictif sage #sage last legacy #nyxelenios — last legacy

[natroze]

funny you reblogged that ff14 post because i just started recently! The story is a bit slow and my babygirl said a realm reborn will last until level 50 (yikes) but i only heared good about it so I am excited! So far its fun and i can't wait to get to level 30 so I can brcome a dragoon :3 oh man, I'm excited hehe

I am so glad you’re having fun!! It’s a long story, yes, but in my personal opinion all parts of it are worth appreciating so don’t feel obligated to rush. Some people will tell you some expansions of the story are “better” or “worse” but they are all narratively relevant and they each appeal to different people in different ways.

I hope you continue to enjoy it and good choice with Lancer/Dragoon, it has a good job quest storyline (and one of my favorite NPCs so I am a little biased hehe).

[epickiya722]

You know, something i think should be said...

Let people complain. Let people dislike stuff. Literally no one should be obligated to like something, just because someone told them to or because their motive to disliking it "doesn't make sense".

Honestly, i really wouldn't care less that these antis and dudebros don't like Bakugo or bakudeku. This doesn't effect my opinion or my life at all, so why should i. And that should be valid for them too.

Because, you can just unfollow, block or mute someone or a tag you don't want to see. No one should be telling you not to just because they personally think it's too much.

But you know what the problem is?

They aren't just complaining. They are LITERALLY going around and targeting specific people, because they think they should. Because they want to. And people agree with them.

This is why i get kinda pissed when they use the "oh but they hate [this character]! So their feelings are invalid and they're bad" Like,,,, so WHAT they do. You don't have to share their opinions. You don't have a right to control someone's feelings. And you certainly don't have the right to go to their posts and insert your insults on their person. Just go away.

Sorry for this, i'm just sick and tired of seeing people, even some bkdks, agree with antis just because their current target doesn't like Uraraka, or Kirishima or Tsuyu or whatever other character there is. Leave people alone and stop trying to dictate their feelings.

This -> They aren't just complaining. They are LITERALLY going around and targeting specific people, because they think they should. Because they want to. And people agree with them.

That's where the issue lies for me.

We all have our own blogs to do what we want with then. But to go as far as to literally going onto someone else's blog just to complain, or just to be an ass is like... just why?

Who cares you don't like this ship or character? No one is benefiting from your hatred if you go around and throwing at at others just because they don't share the same feelings.

Why even go as far as to try to change someone's feelings about something or troll them?

It's not like it's helping you because all you are doing is building yourself on negativity you and others don't need.

Hate the ship, hate the character. It's what everyone does. It's not a big deal.

People can complain, people can express their feelings. It's just how they can go about it.

Complain on your own blog, yes! It's YOUR blog, your space. Complain on someone else's post that happens to be a positive post about the character you hate? NO!!

I have crossed blogs that don't like Miruko, and I love me some Miruko, but am I not going out my way to reblog their posts and dispute with them or go in their inbox. I really could give a damn about whether they like her or not. I'll just be on my own blog expressing how much of a great character she is and the headcanons I have for her. That sounds a whole lot better.

No one should be targeting anybody on anything.

#kiya answers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[wettestwraith]

So I want to make another analysis post on Barbie bc I saw a post yet again but I didn't want to reblog it my own opinions on it bc that might seem rude and some things in the original post are valid so here we go.

So I am not gonna invalidate trans women's opinions on the gynecologist scene, I am just going to provide my own interpretation of it as a genderqueer demigirl so take it if you will. When I was watching it in cinemas, I was like "oh Barbie got bottom surgery, good for her!" bc I felt this was a natural progression of her arc, Barbie wants to be human, Barbie wants to experience everything good and bad there is to humanity. I feel like saying "oh this movie had Barbie get a vagina bc that would make her a 'real woman'" is kind of diminishing the story here which is that Barbie has become okay with irrepressible thoughts of death, Barbie has become okay with cellulite, Barbie has become okay with aging, she now wants cellulite, to age and to eventually have her ending one day. She kind of reminds me of some trans women I know who want to menstruate if that makes any sense (this isn't out of like some obligation or whatever they just want to do it... pls don't), so when the movie was like "Barbie has a vagina now", I just went "good for her". Like Barbie became a real woman LONG before she had her bottom surgery, when she kept thinking abt death, when she cried, when she began to feel insecure about herself, when she had an existential crisis, when she saw how much love life has to offer. Before Ruth Handler even appeared, Barbie became human, she doesn't act like the other Barbies anymore. But when Ruth appared, she finally became sure, she didn't want to be an idea anymore, it is also bc her human has realised that there's nothing wrong with cellulite, nothing wrong with death and aging. Her bottom surgery did not cement her finally becoming human.

There are also some who did not like the whole meta joke of "Margot Robbie is not the kind of person to cast for this" like I don't like meta jokes either but I thought the whole point of that scene was that no matter what women do, they will never be good enough. Barbie is already so brilliant and beautiful yet she can't see that bc there are other Barbies that have won Nobel prizes, there are other Barbies that are doctors, Barbies that are presidents and if she can't be any of those then what was she made for? And the film says "isn't it good enough to just love yourself? To live? To be human?" Also, it's kind of just to show that women can never be attractive enough (I am thinking abt kpop stars getting plastic surgery and I am just like??? What??? You're already literally impossibly attractive???)

There are also criticisms of the whole "I am a man with no power, does that make me a woman?" being how cis people perceive trans people and yeah that is how they perceive us but this did not feel like a specific jab at trans people to me bc these were the same people who also went "I am not sexist! I am the son of a mother and I have a sister as well" (they also make some jokes like 'I am the mother of a son' but I think that was just Mattel trying to convince Greta to make them silly little guys <they aren't) so there's that. This could be clumsy writing as while yes these guys were funny a lot of their scenes were just kind of flimsy yknow?

There's also criticism abt the teen calling Barbie a fascist being how conservatives see left leaning people and first off I know MANY people who are like this and act EXACTLY like that, some of you reading this post probably act exactly like her. She has valid criticisms of Barbie perpetuating unrealistic body standards but she also doesn't acknowledge that Barbie is unrealistically thin is so that she looks okay and not off-putting with clothes on (since Barbie clothes aren't exactly form-fitting yknow?) but she also uses a lot of terms incorrectly. She calls Barbie, the idea, the concept itself, fascist. The company that owns Barbie, Mattel, is fascistic but Barbie isn't. It kind of reminded me how a lot of children that grew up in the global north will cling on to leftist politics but then won't educate themselves on imperialism, the detrimental effects of communism, colonialism and post-colonialism and many more and will also speak over poc and disabled people a lot (I am side-eyeing you so many of you rn)

At the end of the day, Barbie is not a perfect film by a milestone, it is still a movie approved by Mattel. But to call it a "harsh conservative corporate cash-grab" is to ignore the nuances in it, which I am seeing a lot of with you lot nowadays jfc

#barbie #barbie movie #im done. this is my brain power for the day. english is not my native tongue. #remember the lindsay ellis drama? yeah i do. she was right btw abt raya

[argumate]

so okay, this is maybe me totally making things up, and obviously you have NO obligation to reblog my posts, but I have the sense that you are deliberately not doing so, probably out of politeness since I complained so much about the skyrim post? and I just wanted to say, in case that is true, that my complaining about that was meant to be all in good fun and I really do not mind if you reblog from me, even if - oh, the horrors -! it ends up on pinterest lmao. anyway yes please do not feel constrained to replies when interacting with my posts. if you were feeling constrained at all! again maybe I am making this up haha

oh! no that's just entirely down to what posts happen to cross my dash when I happen to be looking at it, incredibly distracted attention span that I have, please rest assured that I will gladly subject your excellent posts to all of the horrors that a dumb comment can visit upon them should the opportunity to do so ever arise 😊