A Plan For The Future

Sunlight streamed in through the window, the light on Eve’s hair making it shine like fire. “You know, we always seem to end up like this,” she teased, turning to Warlund.

She was stretched out in her bed, laying on her stomach with her feet in the air. “You’re insatiable.”

Warlund’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Lady Daniels’ voice. “I’ve been listening to you breathe,” he said, gaze locked on to the ceiling. There was a short delay before he continued, “But as I recall, you instigated this one.”

His remark was met with a quiet laugh. Eve turned her gaze to the bed, red hair spilling forward like a curtain to hide her features. “Mm….. Yes, I think you’re right.  I can have Hannah bring up breakfast, if you’re interested.”

Warlund groaned, rolling onto his side. “That’s fine,” he said, “Just have her burn my bacon black.” He now laid on his stomach, eyes meeting Eve’s. “It’ll be good to see the old woman anyway.”

Eve rolled her eyes a bit as she moved off of the bed. She paused to stretch, before retrieving a silk robe from the chair by the bed, tugging it around her nude form. “Why would you want to ruin perfectly good bacon by burning it?” She asked as she pressed a small button on the wall by the vanity. Taking a seat, she began to brush her hair, watching his reaction in the mirror.

“It’s just something I do,” he said, not caring where Eve went. Warlund kept laying there, reluctant to move, let alone dress. “It’s preference.” He laughed, “I seemingly have a few of those, especially around here.”

“We all have our preferences,” she remarked. A quiet knock at the door announced the arrival of a maid to take their breakfast orders. Setting the brush to the side, Eve moved to the door and quietly gave the maid instructions.

“Hannah will be bringing up your very burnt bacon soon. So, you have other preferences around here?” She asked with a smirk, certain she knew exactly what he meant.

Warlund chuckled, “Is that a surprise?” Propping himself up, he turned to face Lady Daniels by the door. “Does it really need to be said?” Warlund asked, “I’m confident my actions speak for themselves.”

“Actions do speak louder,” she replied. Tilting her head to the side, she looked him over silently for a moment, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. “What a strange turn this has taken.” Dismissing that train of thought before it could go any further, she moved to sit by him on the bed. “We’ll need to contact Lady Ludlow about another wine order, and Penny about tea….. We went through quite a bit.”

“I’ll write to them, then,” he said. “Shouldn’t be too difficult to acquire more of Penny’s teas, or Ludlow’s.” He raised up, just an inch or two away from Eve’s features. “I,” Warlund began, but a knock at the door quickly interrupted him; Hannah, presumably, with his burnt bacon. “That’s for you,” Warlund commented.

Eve lingered a moment, looking at him with a raised brow. I what? “Hannah will be disappointed to see me, rather than you,” she teased as she moved to answer the door. Opening the door wide, she greeted Hannah with a smile.

The elderly maid stepped into the room, carrying a tray filled with various breakfast foods; toast, fruit, and of course, bacon burned to a crisp, as well as two mugs and a pot of coffee.

“Just set it on the table there, Hannah, quickly now.” Eve instructed. “I believe Warlund is still undressed under that sheet, we wouldn’t want to embarrass him,” she teased.

Hannah’s brow rose slightly and a gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she did as she was told. She couldn’t help but steal a small glance toward Warlund though.

Warlund huffed out a laugh, climbing from the bed and allowing the sheet to fall where it might’ve. He stood there, on display, as Hannah passed by. “Who’s embarrassed?” Warlund questioned, shrugging in Eve’s direction, a grin accompanying it. “Let me get dressed, then we’ll eat.”

Hannah, shocked, but not altogether embarrassed, cast a quick glance in Warlund’s direction. As she headed for the door, she turned back to Eve to sink and give an approving nod.

“Well, you’ve impressed Hannah,” Eve said with a smirk as she took a seat at the small table by the window. “Don’t take too long, wouldn’t want your ruined bacon to get cold,” she teased.

Warlund gathered up his trousers, slipping them on. “Well,” he began, “I do live to impress Hannah.” Joining Lady Daniels by the window, he remained standing, taking a piece of bacon and biting into it. “What are we doing?”

Brow raised, she leaned back in her chair. Emerald gaze roamed over his bare torso for a moment before drifting back to his face. “We’re having breakfast,” she replied, lips curving into a grin.

Warlund laughed. “How coy of you,” he commented, “But that’s not what I mean and you know it.” He finished a piece of bacon, accompanying it with a sip of coffee. “What are we doing?”

He wants to have this talk? “I’m not sure how to answer that, Warlund. We are business partners, friends, more than that, but yet,” she paused, tapping the table gently. “You have Lady Suncrest. So again, I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“I do have Lady Suncrest,” he said. “But I’m spending more and more of my time here or at Stormshadow.” Warlund took a sip of coffee, seating himself opposite Eve. “Do you know why I have her?”

Eve turned her attention to the table, pouring herself a cup of coffee as she spoke. “Frankly, I can only assume you see her as a way to redeem yourself.” She added cream and sugar, taking her time, keeping her gaze on the mug. “Why don’t you tell me your reason?”

Redemption? Warlund shook his head, “I didn’t want redemption. I never wanted it. But, in the end, it was my only option. I did what I had to do.” He shrugged, “I can’t, earnestly, marry a Quel'Dorei. I thought I could. I thought I wanted to settle down and retire.” There was a brief moment’s pause before he continued. “I used Lady Suncrest, and it went further than I should’ve let it.”

Brows arched with surprise, Eve lifted the mug to her lips and took a small sip of coffee. Turning to face him she laughed quietly. “Well. That is interesting.” She paused a moment, considering her next words. “What do you want, Warlund?”

That’s a good question. “I want what I’ve always wanted, Eve: a legacy. I can’t go quietly into retirement. It’s not who I am.” He looked away, thoughtfully, “And, to be honest with you, I cannot let Stormwind think it’s beaten me.”

“Mm. So, you’re building something for yourself here, with Stormshadow and with The Silk Road,” she replied. Taking a sip of the coffee, she continued, turning his earlier question back on him. “What are we doing, Warlund?”

“It’s about more than material wealth,” he said, “It’s about being remembered, and no one remembers a commoner. I want my nobility returned to me.” He sipped from his own cup of coffee as well. “Right this moment? Having a conversation. But the future’s important to us both. You need an heir; I need to solidify my name– again.” He looked to Eve. “We should consider the future.”

Eve nodded along, setting the mug on the table. “Are you proposing, Warlund?This is hardly romantic,” she teased. Smirking a bit, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I agree, we should consider the future.”

“Not yet,” Warlund said, laughing a little. “It’s something to think about, though. You and I could carve out a trade kingdom here in the Highlands. We could use (and are using) the Silk Road to gather information on friends.” He leaned forward, “We could use that same influence to dictate policy, here and in the House of Nobles.”

Eve mirrored his movements, leaning toward him a bit. “I do like the way you think,” she said quietly. “Hannah would be thrilled to see more of you around here. What do you plan to do about Lady Suncrest?”

“I’ll end things with Lady Suncrest,” Warlund muttered, nodding. “But I doubt she’ll take it well.” He leaned forward a little more, brushing a hand against Eve’s features. He kept it there a moment before pulling away. “If you’re going to marry me, I will expect honesty between us. No secrets, Eve.”

“I haven’t actually agreed yet,” she teased. “But I think I can do that. I’m more honest with you than most, as it is. If I’m going to marry you, Warlund, I expect to be the only one sharing a bed with you,” she said with a raised brow. “I don’t share, Warlund.”

“Well, I haven’t agreed, either,” he said, smirking. “If you don’t share, you don’t share. I can live with that.” Warlund turned to the window, finishing off his cup of coffee. “Anyway, I have a couple of things to take care of at Stormshadow. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

(( @warlundblackfyre @housesuncrest @penvenomstarkstar and @elizebella for mentions))

Not really a fuck customers story more than a slight annoyance, but I work in a dining hall on my college campus and it’s always really awkward when you go to hand someone their food. Sometimes they make no move to take it from you and expectantly wait for you to put it on their tray for them. Other times they order a coffee or a sandwich and then wander off. When I call their name I just have to leave it on the counter.

Im only posting this because just this morning a guy ordered a fried egg and a waffle. Not only did he do the weird tray thing but he kinda rudely remarked that it would’ve been easier to put both on the same plate. (The waffle takes up the entire plate so the egg would’ve had to been on top).


“I’m just one gigantic ball of rancid fear and self-consciousness. I’m entirely fueled by fear, so the fact that I knew it could be a catastrophic disaster made me unable to sleep, and made me work quite hard.” — Eddie Redmayne, b. January 6, 1982

Imagine if One Direction had just won an award and got up there and said, “This doesn’t have Zayn’s name on it, does it?”

okay listen. everyday, trying-to-fit-in kara kills me. the glasses, the flats, the argyle sweaters, it kills me. she is the embodiment of “too pure, too good” and it is really too much for me to handle. it’s all to try and blend in and seem insignificant, but guess what?? kara could be wearing camouflage and she would still stand out bc who smiles that much? whose eyes light up like that when they see potstickers for christ’s sake?? kara is so observant that she probably knows the birthdays of all the employees in the office at catco and gets them a card or a donut or something, and she notices because she cares so much about everyone. like she wants to make sure no one feels left out or forgotten and loves to make people feel special. she tries so hard to blend in but she’s too kind, too thoughtful, too bright to ever be anything but remarkable. and that has nothing to do with supergirl, that’s just kara being kara.


When you are too ignorant to know that Africa is a continent and not a country. ig: @jamescharles, you  probably have a higher risk of getting HIV in America than Ebola in Africa, but anyway #sipstea. The fact that Cover Girl chose somebody like this to represent them, speaks volumes. Seems like @jamescharles has a lot of negative things to say when it comes to race. 




ig: @jamescharless

i had this friend. loud, vivacious, and brimming with energy and colour. her sun-bright smile drew others to her like moths to flame; and yet she could always pick me out from the crowd effortlessly. i wondered how she did that, why she’d pick me over many. 

she was the kind of person you could never look away from for long, but i saw her better from my peripherals. when she lifted her chin, her face would become awash with glowing light; and then she’d laugh about her pale skin, and the ruddy cheeks and dark freckles would appear again, as if they’d momentarily blanked out. when she grew protective, her blue eyes would spark dangerously and burn white; and then she’d blink, and the glint of her glasses would stand in with explanation. 

but i saw her best from the back. when she’d run, her fire-bright curls would flare out behind her like wings.

as flighty as she was, she always came back to me. i wondered why. 

she told me, once. 

one day, before class had started, when i was in the middle of falling asleep in the sunbeam warming my desk, she turned around in her seat to talk to me. she spoke with her whole body, from her waving hands to her bouncing shoulders. 

then she petered off, and settled into stillness. watchfulness. despite all the eyes on her, she only saw me. 

“hey,” she said. “could you look at me for a sec?” 

and when i lifted my head to look at her straight on, she smiled as if she’d found the answer. 

“look at that,” she murmured. “your eyes have halos in them too.” 

Vanoss: Delirious, Delirious, she has you.

Delirious: Don’t worry, don’t worry, as long as she’s got me, you’re safe.


Ohmwrecker / Masked Game | Dead by Daylight #32 Most Intense Nurse Killer Ever! ft Delirious, Vanoss.


you do not need to be a pretty victim. there is something very toxic in our world where sometimes people “deserve” what happens to them. where you learn - maybe i deserved it. maybe if i hadn’t talked back he wouldn’t have hit me, if i had worn different clothing, if i had just been a nicer person in general these things wouldn’t have happened to me. 

victims are always gentle people who only want to help. how do i explain that we’re not like that. we’re angry and we’re hurting and sometimes that anger is violent. sometimes we’re hard to like. sometimes we are the people you hate, unwilling to make friends and genuinely unlikable. and when that happens, we “deserve” it. what happened to us was a result of our actions.

abusers have made this rule up. they have created it so they can win. so they can teach us that if we weren’t silly and ignorant and worthless and useless we wouldn’t deserve it. that everyone else sees us this way in the end. that we’re pathetic. that we were mean to someone once, that we won’t smile on the bus, that we didn’t keep ourselves virgin-white before marriage, that we made it happen for whatever reason comes up. 

bad people deserve bad things. but what if we’ve only ever been told we’re a bad person too. what if our mental illnesses tell us we’re bad because we’re a burden. what if we’re mean and spiteful and angry. are we good enough victims for you?

i am a poster child for pity when i tell you i was young and desperate to please, that i volunteer, that i just want to take all the hardship i was handed and make it into kindness as often as i can. but i deserve it when i talk about the fact i’m bitter, frequently jealous, occasionally prone to screaming, that i’m ambitious, very good at manipulation, and occasionally cruel as i can be. these are just two sides of me. do you want me to be free of blame because you like me. do you wish you didn’t like me?

good people are easy. we know the world is unfair. but i am not always good, because i am a person that is just trying to survive long enough to learn what it means to be me. 

what happens when i’m ugly?