distinctive 'look and feel'

anonymous asked:

I feel like there's a very distinct look to scandinavian style homes that's not really dependent on white or pale colors though, but rather something sort of crisp that I can't really put my finger on? But I love it! Instagram user Krickelin has a very lovely scandinavian style home in all blue, for example (it's a public persona account, so I think it's okay to share like this)

Yes I agree, I usually see immediately which country the home stands in (not just with Scandinavian homes but in general) every country has its own ‘look’, no matter how the home is styled! I love Krickelin’s home (I’ve posted it on my tumblr as well, you can see it here). It’s still very Scandinavian but with colour, wallpaper and vintage items :)

Bad Timing

For @pandalandalopalis because I couldn’t resist writing this and I love the two of them being protective of each other. The Dragonpit scene was amazing though-I loved it. 

King’s Landing loomed off the side of the boat, the towers of the Red Keep sparkling in the early dawn light. On the top deck, the two monarchs stood shoulder to shoulder watching it draw closer; it should have been a momentous occasion but there was a tension to the moment because the city wasn’t safe for them. Not yet. 

“Do you think she’ll try and kill us?” Jon loosened his cloak, just slightly. It was significantly warmer in King’s Landing than it had been anywhere else, even on Dragonstone, but he refused to take off his cloak-more out of principle than a desire to be warm. 

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t.” Dany caught her breath, her fingers tightening momentarily on the boat railing. It was a small thing, barely noticeable if one wasn’t paying attention-but Jon always seemed to be paying attention to the Dragon Queen now. 

He touched her lower back instinctively, to steady her. “Are you all right?” This hadn’t been the first dizzy spell in the last few days; Dany tried to play it off as nothing but he was starting to get worried. 

She nodded, but she wouldn’t look at him. “I’m fine.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t-”

She shook her head and stepped away from him, not turning away from the sprawling city in the distance. Her arms were crossed slightly, as if cold, and the look in her eyes was utterly inscrutable. The queen mask was coming down; gone was the Dany whose door he had knocked on in the middle of the night, who had stayed up for hours telling him about her life on the run, who had spent every minute by his side when he was healing from his wounds. There was no time for weakness; not now. “It’s the weather.”

He nodded, though it had never bothered her before. But he knew better than to fight with her, especially now when they needed to be as strong as they could be. 

Queen Cersei wasn’t near as deadly as the Night King, but he was still nervous-almost more nervous than he’d been before he left Eastwatch. At least the wights he could anticipate; the Queen was desperate and unpredictable, which made her dangerous. And he wasn’t particularly looking to die so soon. “If you’re sure you aren’t-”

“I’m fine.” He thought only he could hear the catch in her voice. Seven hells. This was the last thing they needed. The absolute last thing. 

They were all very silent on the way to the Dragonpit. They’d purposely picked a meeting spot that was far removed from the rest of the city; there was no predicting how the common people of King’s Landing would react to the Unsullied, much less the King in the North or the Dragon Queen. But the tension was still there, especially when the Lannister guard met them at the edge of the city. He got a few curious glances but for the most part everyone’s eyes flitted over him and to Tyrion-the once hero of the Battle of the Blackwater and now a wanted fugitive. 

It had been so long since he’d seen Cersei-and even then he’d just caught a glimpse of her at Winterfell. Everything had changed now; she no longer had her long golden hair and there was something in the way she carried herself that screamed power and hidden ferocity. She truly looked like a queen, as she took her seat at the front of the pit. 

Her eyes flickered to Dany’s empty seat, just like everyone else’s. And even though Jon knew perfectly well where the Dragon Queen was, he still felt tense and uneasy. What if something went wrong? 

Dany made her entrance, of course-and he couldn’t help but be in awe of her. Then again, he knew he wasn’t the only one. Even some of the Lannisters were looking at her with grudging respect as she climbed down from her black scaled mount, face expressionless, and took her seat next to Tyrion. Cersei looked practically livid but Dany didn’t rise to the bait. Too much was at stake; there was too much riding on this meeting to do anything that might risk its outcome. 

She was too pale. 

He thought he was the only one who noticed; she was generally very pale anyway. But her light skin was almost translucent; he could practically see the veins standing out in sharp relief under her skin like a map…the same veins he’d kissed a couple of months ago back at Eastwatch, when they’d first made love to each other. And her hands were shaking; just slightly, but enough to make him worry. We should have set the meeting for another day. But how could they have cancelled? They already couldn’t show any sign of weakness as it was-how would they have explained it to Cersei? 

The wight went over about as well as he’d expected. It was gratifying just to see the look on the Lannisters’ faces when they let it loose from its box and the queen and her entourage beheld it in its full glory, its eyes rolling and the flesh curling from its ruined bones. 

And then came the moment he’d been dreading; he was asked to swear neutrality. He knew what he was supposed to say, how he had to lie…but he couldn’t. So he didn’t. Because he knew, better than anyone, that he couldn’t serve two queens-and there was only one queen that mattered, at least to him. Even pretending to serve another would be a betrayal to her. 

The reaction was nearly instantaneous-Cersei said “Then we have nothing more to discuss” and stood up, her retinue grouped loosely around her. Most of the members of Dany’s entourage were on their feet as well and he knew that he’d ruined everything. He didn’t know what he was going to say or how he could fix it but he knew he had to try…

And then Dany was sick all over the Dragonpit floor. The giant arena went dead silent and Jon felt worry crawl down his spine. 

He saw Cersei turn back, seizing upon the moment of weakness like a cat on injured prey. A shock of fear went through him, quick and thrilling-and he closed the distance between them in two steps, where Dany’s entourage had circled around her protectively. Dany was struggling back to her feet-but she was barely on her knees when she slipped again, falling back to the sand. Her skin was white as parchment. 

The entourage made way as soon as they saw him; Missandei was half supporting the Queen, while Dany tried to stand. “What happened?” 

Missandei shook her head. “I don’t know-”

“It could be poison,” Varys murmured, glancing at the Lannisters. 

“She needs to be checked by the maester,” Jon replied, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. It shouldn’t be affecting him as much as it was. 

Dany struggled to her feet, only squeezing Missandei’s hand once when it looked as if she might fall. “I’m fine-”

“You’re not fine,” Tyrion replied. “Your Grace-” He glanced between her and the Lannisters, obviously torn. “I can try and talk to her-”

“She’ll kill you.” 

“I have to do something to try and salvage this. Besides, she’ll take this as weakness and exploit it as much as she can. Take her back to Dragonstone,” Tyrion muttered. 

“I don’t-”

“I’m not asking.” Tyrion left, not looking back once. Jon got the distinct and disturbing feeling that if the Queen’s Hand never came back it would be his fault. 

Dany bit her lip, seeming to realize that everything was falling apart around them-and then she suddenly fainted into Missandei’s arms. The queen’s advisor looked at Jon worriedly. “I hope this isn’t what I think it is.” 

He picked the queen up gently and started down the path to the harbor, not looking back once to see how their enemies would take it. Let them stare. He’d probably only confirmed Cersei’s worst fears anyway. 

The rest of the day was tense and quiet back on Dragonstone. The maester was able to make his diagnosis within twenty minutes-the Queen was pregnant. And Jon could only assume that the baby was his. 

Tyrion and the rest of her advisors returned much later to announce that a truce had been reached in spite of the disaster in the Dragonpit. The relief was quick and sweet…but it dissipated suddenly when he had to fill Tyrion in on what had happened. This further complicated things. And Jon hadn’t thought they could get any worse. 

When the sun set, he was finally allowed to see the Queen. She’d been confined to her rooms all day while Missandei fussed over her-but when she saw Jon she just smiled sadly. “I tried to-”

“You did wonderfully. Up until…” 

She laughed mirthlessly. “Cersei will know soon, if she doesn’t already. A child…it puts us both in more danger. 

“We’ve always been in danger. Tyrion says the truce might have been a trap anyway-what reason does she have to trust us, and what reason do we have to trust her?” He took her hand easily; it still sent a shock through him at first, as though it was the very first time. “She wants to kill us both anyway.” 

“But she knows I’m vulnerable.” He could see the fear in her eyes, the way she held one hand to her stomach protectively-and he couldn’t help thinking of Robb’s wife Talisa, murdered by the Lannisters, her unborn child stabbed in the womb. 

“We’re stronger together. You said we’d defeat the Night King together-you’re not going back on your word now, are you? And I told her that I only served one queen.” And I’ll protect you. I won’t even let her get near you. 

“That was stupid of you. I respect it, but…it wasn’t the right time.”

“It never would have been the right time.” 

She took his other hand, guiding it so it rested on top of hers. “Did Tyrion’s assessment change? Are we still fucked?”

The word sounded so odd, coming out of her mouth. He couldn’t help smiling, just a little. “I don’t know. We can’t trust the Lannisters but…any men at all make a difference.” 

He was more desperate than ever to win now; there was no other option. Not if he was going to be a father. 

But they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. 

She sounded like she was smothering a laugh. “Well…now she knows. Now everyone knows about us.”

“And we’ll deal with it as it comes. That’s the only thing we can do.” 

“Missandei told me you carried me all the way to the ship. You didn’t have to do that either.” 

“I was worried about you-”

“It was stupid. But I respect it.” 

And just for that moment, for that smile they shared, it seemed like everything would be all right after all. Somehow, things would work out. Hope might be dangerous, but it was all he had left. 

I wanted to have this done earlier but that’s not actually what happened ugh. 

Now we move on to boatsex stuff. 

Nina Simone for #BlackHistoryMonth

anonymous asked:

What if Dougal tried to marry Claire off to another member of the rent party? How would Jamie react?

anonymous asked: I don’t know if this has been asked before, but what if Dougal suggested someone else, not Jamie, marry Claire? We know Jamie wouldn’t let that happen! Thank you and bless you all for the amazing work you do!

anonymous asked:What if Claire wanted to consummate the marriage before the wedding to avoid having witnesses in the room to prove it

The fire sparked sending fiery red ashes into the inky night air. Jamie sat with his back to the party, their lively Gaelic conversations going mostly unheard as he turned over the proposition Dougal had levelled at Claire only hours before.


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physicsandfandoms asked me to do a bit about my ace couple Bail and Breha headcanons for the Ace Card Day over at acesinspace. I thought about writing some meta, but since this is entirely headcanon anyway, I thought fic would be more fun.

The Princess and the Nerfherder | Bail/Breha, 2513 words, no warnings.

When Bail Antilles was eleven years old, his parents took him into Aldera for the great flower festival. He’d never been to the city before, though he’d heard stories about it, and his cousin Lenal, who was four years older than Bail and had visited the city three whole times, was always bragging about everything he’d seen there.

Bail had expected the city to be beautiful, and it was: all gleaming, soaring white structures and streets strewn with pink and red and white and yellow petals. And there were so many people! But there was one person he would remember more than everything else he saw that day.

Princess Breha was only a girl his age, but she looked like one of the spirits come out to walk among mortals. She was dressed like a flower herself, bright and sun-kissed, and she looked right at him and smiled as her hovercar paraded past.

He didn’t actually talk to her that day. And it would be years before he saw her again. But the memory of the flower goddess stayed in his mind.

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Request: “Could you do a Alec imagine of being Izzy’s parabati and best friend since childhood and Izzy talks you into going on a double date with her and Simon and Raphael because she knows both you and Alec need a push to make a move and she knows Alec knows Raphael has a thing for you which will make him extra jealous?? And you can’t deny you didn’t have a good time because Raphael is nice once you get past his layers of undead doucheness and you both were sarcastic snarky brats the whole date??”

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages so I decided to finally post it.


Word Count: 1384

Clothes, shoes and a range of other items Izzy deemed ‘necessities’ lay scattered across the entirety of my bedroom floor like that first, crisp layer of freshly fallen snow, or perhaps a more accurate description would be that it looked as though the heavens had unleashed an almighty roar and sent waves of snow cascading down in an avalanche.  In reality, Izzy had come barrelling into my room, her arms laden down with a rainbow of fabrics and all sorts of beautifying concoctions that I couldn’t even name.  Somehow or other, I had allowed myself to be convinced into going on a date with Raphael.

I knew I shouldn’t have let Izzy talk me into it.  It was a crazy idea from the start, and I had somehow, foolishly let her convince me that I was doing this to help her out, and that things weren’t the other way round.  It was just so hard to argue with her perfect,well formed, valid arguments.  I mean, really, what reason was there for me not to go?  Apart from the obvious one which was that it would be a date with a vampire, but Izzy had managed to counter that argument faster than those superhuman bloodsuckers could run.  The one and only good reason I had for not going, was that I liked Alec.  I really liked Alec if I was being honest with myself… but Izzy didn’t know that.  Or at least I sincerely hoped that she didn’t.

Sneaking out of the institute was going to be near impossible.  Sneaking out of the institute without our absence going unnoticed was going to require divine intervention.  I didn’t know how Izzy managed it on a regular basis, especially with those terrifying high heels she always wore. Izzy had insisted that I wear something she picked out, and Izzy could be pretty stubborn when she wanted to be.  I supposed it was a Lightwood trait, it was definitely a huge contributor to all of the arguments she had with her brothers.  Her brothers.  If Alec caught us out here he would definitely kill us, if I didn’t die of embarrassment first.  Perhaps I would just sink down through the ground once and for all into my own grave.

Somehow, we made it out.  That wasn’t to say that we would make it back in, because I certainly wasn’t sure about that, but I was sure that Izzy would be able to sweet talk her way out of almost anything.  Or sweet talk somebody else into almost anything.  Like how she sweet talked me, into going on a date, with a vampire, with Raphael.

To be fair to Raphael, he wasn’t an awful date.  Sure, he could be snarky and sarcastic as hell, and had had a good few lifetimes to perfect the art of the perfect comeback, but that didn’t mean he was worse than me.  One of the good things about this constant bickering was that I think it made Izzy regret her decision to invite me along just a little bit.  I caught her rolling her eyes at Simon more than a couple of times throughout our meal at Takis Diner.  Especially when we first walked in.  
“Well hello there darling.”  Raphael had practically purred, his eyes crinkling with mirth as his lips tugged to the side in a smirk in reaction to the glare I shot his way.  
“Hi.”  I replied, stiff as a robot.  Simon stifled a laugh as he reached out to embrace Izzy in a warm hug.  
Raphael offered me a pout, his arms outstretched.  “Hey!  Where’s my hug?”  
“Same place as that Shax demon I banished yesterday, would you like to join it?”   
“I’m beginning to think that might be a better idea than this date.”  
“Good, then we’re on the same page.”
“Can’t you two be nice to each other for one night?”  Izzy interjected with a frown and a sharp glare. 

As it turned out, the answer was no.  Whilst we weren’t being serious, or at least not entirely with our insults and snippy snide comments, they did carry on for the rest of the night.  They continued through the meal itself, while I watched, with morbid fascination as Raphael and Simon both drank glasses of blood.  “Something the matter dear?”
“Just wondering how that stuff can possibly be appealing to you.”  I frowned, glancing at the deep red liquid.  
“Don’t worry darling, I’d much rather be drinking your blood.”  This was said with a deep breath in, which got him exactly the reaction he had desired.  With my fists clenching around my cutlery I managed to snap back with sickly sweetness.  “Well don’t you worry either sweetheart, I’d much rather be spilling your blood.  Guess we can’t all have what we want.”  
“I have to agree, I certainly don’t think I’ll be getting any -”
“Hm-hmm.”  Simon cleared his throat with a meaningful glance towards Raphael who sighed, leaning back with his drink in hand and a roll of his eyes. 
The bickering also continued along the walk home, although I did notice that as the night wore on, and we spoke more, chatted more, I began to like him more.  Not like like him, I was still head over heels for Alec, but I couldn’t deny that Raphael could be a nice guy.  When he wanted to be.  Or maybe it was just that I had wanted to see it before, or hadn’t looked close enough, hadn’t read between his sarcastic lines.  Either way, for somebody who was dead, he certainly managed to make me feel alive.  He managed to make me laugh and smile, and warm up to him little by little, right up until the moment Alec met us at the institute gates with a scowl to rival them all.  

Simon and Raphael got the message straight away, and scurried off into the night, leaving Izzy and I to approach a gently fuming Alec with dread curling in the pits of our stomachs.  “Heey.”  I greeted as I swung open the gate.  “Fancy seeing you here!” 
“Fancy not seeing you two here!  For the last 2 hours!  Where the hell have you been?  And why were you with that bloodsucker?!”  I took note of how when Alec said that, how he didn’t use the plural.  He was referring to Raphael, and Raphael alone.  
“We were on a date.”  Said Izzy with care.  
“A date?!”  Alec all but roared.  “With a vampire?!”  He was looking straight at me now, and I got the distinct feeling that I was the person his anger was directed towards.  Or perhaps it wasn’t quite anger.  Was it jealousy I was detecting?  “Do you have any idea-”
“It was my idea.”  Izzy butted in, her tone as pointed as her stiletto heals.  Hurt and a hint of betrayal flashed across Alec’s face.  
“Why?”  To me, he directed his next comment.  “I’m sorry she dragged you into that then, although you seemed to be having a very nice time.”  Was I imagining things?  To me, it sounded like jealousy, for sure.  
“I did have a very nice time, but I can assure you it won’t be happening again.  Raphael is nice, he’s funny, but I don’t see him that way.”  
“Oh.”  He seemed to pause to collect his thoughts.  “Well, that’s, good to know I guess.  But, why did you go on a date with him in the first place if you didn’t think of him that way?  You know he likes you-”
“Wait, what?”  
“And,”  Alec carried on regardless, “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just ask somebody you do think of that way.”  Alec’s fists were now clenching and un-clenching at his sides as his eyes darted about.  He was thinking about something.  And if I wasn’t mistaken, he was jealous, which meant maybe this would be a good time to finally say what I had been thinking for a while.  
“Maybe I wasn’t sure he thought of me the same way.”
“Yeah, well you’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
“Okay then Alec, will you go out with me?”  For once Alec seemed entirely lost for words.  He nodded, still not uttering a single word, even as his mouth opened and closed while Izzy danced beside me.


Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: The reader wakes up in an unknown room not knowing who she is or who the two men then seem to know everything about her are.

Warnings: Language, some angst, the reader has amnesia, mentions of mild violence.

Word Count: 1,697

A/N: So this looks like it might be the start of another series. I’m not sure. If you guys want more just let me know. Also, there are some “warnings” that I’m going to put in the tags. They’re nothing bad it’s just they’re major spoilers. Anyways I hope you guys like this one and feedback is greatly appreciated and often leads to happy dances.

Originally posted by miriastar

Light streamed through the blinds in the window next to you. As your eyes fluttered open, that was the first thing you saw. Your head was throbbing and your vision blurry. Turning your head you found yourself in a room you didn’t recognize. “Hello?” You called out. Squinting, you tried to make out a human shaped blob that was by what appeared to be another bed. “Who’s there?” The blob moved and you could hear the sound of a man’s voice but your throbbing head was unable to process what he said. A moment later a second blob joined the first one. “What do you want from me?” Fear made your heartbeat quicken as they began to move closer. Blinking your eyes rapidly, your vision began to clear.

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Rick sauntered into the bedroom Michonne was systematically clearing.  He watched as she threw random bits of clothing and hygiene products into a half full storage bin.  The room was feminine with a distinctive bohemian feel.  A sad looking four poster bed sat in the middle of the room.  Whoever had lived there had tied panels of white gauzy fabric to each post with long brightly colored ribbons.

Rick’s boots nudged a bunch of random pillows that were scattered around the foot of the bed.  He blinked as a lace bra flew past him, narrowly missing his face, to fall on top of his boot.

“Sorry.”  Michonne said, “Aim’s off.”  She grunted as she pulled a metal trunk out of the closet.  Flexing her shoulders to ease the tension, she opened the trunk, and stared inside.

“Huh.” she muttered, looking at the contents.

‘What is it?“  Rick asked, catching her reaction as he bent over to grab the stray bra, but she only shrugged her shoulder in response.  

“Nothing we can use.”  She closed the lid quickly, and wiping her hands against her pants leg, moved to his side.  She reached for the lace, but Rick used it to pull her into a quick kiss.

Humming in appreciation, Michonne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and almost sank into the kiss, before pulling back reluctantly.  "We should go,“ she looked out the window, “try to find another house before dark.”

Rick’s hands rested on the sides of her hips, anchoring her.  "Not yet.“  He leaned in to nibble along her neck before murmuring, “We should take a break.” Boosting her higher, he angled his body so her bottom hit the edge of the mattress.  "A quick break,“ he said with a touch of humor in his eyes.

Looking at the bed, then back at him, she giggled, "A quickie?” weaving her hand through his curls she laughingly teased, “Rick Grimes, what do you know about a quickie?”  

“Let me show you,” he grinned before setting her down on the bed.  Stepping back he pulled his shirt over his head.  Michonne, toeing off her boots, tugged her own shirt up and over her head.  Before she could get it all the way off, Rick was unzipping her pants, lifting her hips just enough to slide off her pants and panties.

Rick dropped to his knees, and pressed soft butterfly kisses to Michonne’s inner thighs before his tongue flicked over her most sensitive spot.  He began applying steady pressure over her clit, a steady suction that sent shudders up her body. 

With one hand she grabbed his head and arched her back, her legs draped over his shoulders, and her heels digging into his back.  Amused by her impatience Rick slowly pushed his fingers inside her.  Michonne bucked against him, twisting and turning, sending the storage bin crashing to the floor.  He showed her no mercy, bringing her to the edge over and over, licking and sucking her clit and expertly massaging her g-spot.   

She almost snarled when he stood and with a hard feral smile, slowly unzipped his jeans.  Reaching down between them, he rubbed the head of his cock along her opening, teasing her. Centering himself, slid his cock home.  She was perfect, hot and tight, and her inner muscles were milking him, sucking him deeper into her depths.  He moved slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size, but when she started to whimper and convulse around him he lost the last threads of his control.

Grabbing her hips, he drove deep, digging his fingers into her ass.  His thrusts were powerful and moved them steadily up the bed until she was bracing herself against the headboard.  Attempting to regain control of her position, he palmed her ass, lifting her into his downward stroke. 

He knew she was close, as her back arched even more and she strained toward him.  Sweat pooled between them, and the sounds of their slapping bodies filled the room.  Using his upper body, he pushed her firmly into the mattress and bracing his feet, he started moving into her with short unrelenting strokes.

“Look at me.” he growled.  Eyes locked, Rick slammed into her harder, relishing the soft mewling noises she made. 

“Please,” Michonne could barely speak, “Rick!”

The desperation in her voice pushed him over the edge, and they came together, Michonne purring as her muscles milked him and Rick growling low as he pressed almost painfully against her.

Spent, he collapsed by her side, both of them breathing heavily. "That was … ” Michonne stretched, her body still tingling. “Yeah.” Eyes closed he blindly reached for her hand and pulled her into his arms. Michonne’s head nestled on his chest and she listened to his heartbeat. “You know there’s no time for cuddling in quickies right?” She couldn’t help but tease him.

The Patriarch

This is the first of the giveaway prizes! The was the ficlet request of @lazynessoverload, who wanted a Halloween monster meeting!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

You had worked for WEEKS on this costume. It was your greatest Halloween costume achievement to date, and you hopped around like a little kid as you glued the last bits into place and stepped back to look it over. Fan-flipping-tastic. You’re not sure how you’d managed to do it, but the horned animal skull you’d made looked extremely convincing. You bounce around a bit more before finally getting a hold of yourself and try to calm down. It was still the day before Halloween, and you still had a bit of stuff to do to be ready. You glance at the clock and grab your keys; time to run out for a few last minute things for your Trick or Treat booth. You look at your costume one more time on your way out, and you smile. This was going to be so much fun.

A few hours later, you come home with a few bags of candy to give out, and a few bags of candy for yourself. You’d even picked up a movie and some popcorn for this evening; an old favorite you’d been meaning to get a copy of for years. You giggle as you get things set up for your nice little Halloween party for one.

A little while later, you’re curled up on the couch under your favorite Halloween blanket with an enormous bowl of popcorn and the remote. Just as you press play, you hear a weird noise outside your back door. Pausing, you crane your neck to see past your costume on its mannequin out the back glass sliding door. You’re not sure, but you feel like you can see something moving around out there. You slowly stand and walk cautiously to peek outside. You flip on the light, and see nothing. A gust of wind blows past, and some leaves rustle past. You sigh and shrug. You leave the light on and go back to your movie. The rest of the night goes without incident, and you go to bed excited about the following day.

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A Little Chance Encounter (Hiccstrid)

I couldn’t help myself.

(fanfic.net) (ao3)

It had been exactly two months since Astrid had curled her pinky around Heather’s and sworn, in time with her, that neither of them would have another shitty one-night stand, in favour of finding a proper, long-term relationship, and it had been exactly six hours since Astrid had broken that promise.

Post guilty vow-breaking sex, she’d woken up to her phone buzzing, and all at once realised that a) she wasn’t where she should be, b) she didn’t even remember the name of the man she was sleeping next to, and c) Heather was going to be furious.

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Fast Firsts and Sloppy Seconds (Part 3)

A Rowaelin/Manorian AU

It’s still 10:23 PM Tuesday, May 23, 2017 (HST), holla!!! This part’s pretty short, because I really struggled with it :( So, part 3.5 will be coming in a day or two, probably, and then I will make an immediate push for part 4 (Becca and Cas please become really annoying and fight me if I don’t) so 3.5 should be done by like Thursday night/Friday morning, and 4 will be ready by Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Also, if anyone wants to teach me a thing or two about photo editing, I have a pinterest board of 487 pins which is part of why this chapter’s kind of a disaster sshhh that I would love to turn into edits for you guys :) I’m feeling like an instagram or snapchat vibe? Idk, hmu if you know anything on the subject. Lol it’s 4:23 EST and I’m low key deceased but like it’s fine why do I keep doing this to myself so apologies if there are any typos - I tried my best. Tagging @highlady-casandra​ because this is the reason I haven’t edited for you yet and I’m sorry, I love you!!! Also @miladyaelin​ who is asleep, lol - thanks for trying pal :) 3.5 will probably be posted at a more reasonable time so you can actually look at it first before I make a fool of myself post it … but i say that every time so who knows Also tagging @fictionalcharactersaremyreality​, @rowanismybae​, @the-north-star​, @throneofstars​, @fortunatelycleverpaper​, @snaps7​, @thegirlwith-that-smile​, the anon who sent me that ask earlier today, and so so so many more, thank you for caring about my story and wanting more of it, I love you guys! HUGE thank you to everyone for the kind words and reblogs and notes, I appreciate every single one <3  

Happy reading!

Part 1  Part 2      Part 3.5

The second Dorian saw that look in Aelin’s eyes, he knew the dance was over. He easily stepped out of the way, a small smirk on his lips as he glanced behind him, catching the slightly scared and entirely determined look in the barkeep’s eyes as Aelin stepped directly into his arms.

The barkeep almost immediately stepped back, attempting to keep Aelin at a comfortable arm’s length away. Dorian couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness, as though Aelin would actually let him keep her at a distance. In any case, he didn’t really have time to spend watching the soon-to-be happy couple. His eyes quickly scanned the pub, once again falling onto Manon. He took in the satisfied smirk on her lips as she watched Aelin dance with Rowan. If you could call it dancing, that is. Rowan was awkwardly waddling from side to side, stiff as a board, as Aelin moved around him like a force of nature – absolutely breathtaking.

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PRIDE || MAFIA!Seokmin [Chp 3]

BLURB: Sometimes we put on facades to seem stronger than we are, when all we need is someone to tell us they will hold our hand through it all.

GENRE: mafia!au, action, mystery, family, monsta x cameos

WORDS: 3325

PART: 1 | 2 | 3

Your life was a series of fuck-ups and yesterday might very well be one too. After agreeing to “come with him”, whatever that meant, Seokmin let you go back.

“What, no holding me hostage in the big mansion to make sure I won’t rat you guys out?” You were only half-joking.

“Nah,” he’d said, “I trust you.”

Trust. So when you got back to the subway station that night you stayed as mum as possible hoping that Wonho wouldn’t even notice you were there. It wasn’t much of a problem. When you reached, he and a few of the others were knocked out cold, dumb with alcohol they probably stole from another sad store somewhere else. If you’d been here last night you would’ve watched them drink themselves silly from your perch at the top of a subway car and put yourself on guard duty. Without you here Wonho didn’t even bother.

It’s like they’d forgotten all about you. So you hid in your little corner and pretended to disappear.

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Originally posted by wwwechampionship

Roman Reigns Blurb request - The Introduction

Seth and I had been friends for years. He had always talked about Roman but somehow, for as much as we both hung out with our mutual friend, we always seemed to miss each other when we were in the same town or city. So, I was nothing short of shocked when I stepped through the doorway of Seth’s Tampa home and found the man himself sprawled out on the sectional. I swear he took up half of it.

“Is this the infamous Cassie I hear so much about but never see?” His deep voice matched his size and boomed across the room as he stood up with a huge grin on his face.

“One and the same,” Seth grinned back at him.

He strode over to where I was standing in a few short steps and put his hand out, “Hey, I’m Roman, pleasure to finally meet ya.”

I took his hand in mine and looked up at the man towering over me. “Cassandra but everyone calls me Cassie.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, “Jesus, how fucking tall are you?”

“Around 6’3”,” he laughed.

His voice was mesmerizing. “I have no idea why I just said that,” my face flushed as I spoke, “clearly you’re aware of your height.”

“When your 6’3” everyone is aware of your height,” his grey eyes held mine.

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Break My Heart - Part 1 (Baekhyun x Reader)

Summary: “I wanna feel the pain; I wanna see the light.” Y/N has been going to Oh Sehun for years for therapy. She’s just started her first year of university, and hasn’t made any friends yet– not that she wants Sehun to know. After confusing the time of her therapy appointment, Y/N is forced to reschedule as Sehun’s last appointment of the night. What happens when she runs into Sehun’s ride in the waiting room while her therapist collects his bag for the night? And what the hell is this boy thinking when he grabs her hand, looks into her eyes, and asks her earnestly to break his heart? (Inspired by American pop-punk band Hey Violet’s “Break My Heart.”)

Warnings: therapy, daddy issues, social anxiety, college, flirting, cursing

Word count: 3,134

A/N: I’m so hype for this fic. It’s gonna be a multishot, and I have tons of wonderful (naughty) plans. Follow or ask to be tagged for updates, or you can subscribe to the fic on AO3, where I’m listed as MelWinchester/PichiWrites. Notes and reblogs help me out ever so much! Love love love <3 (gif not mine).

Originally posted by littlebyuns

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The Hand that Flannels (Male Reader X Jared Kleinman)

For that one anon! Sorry it’s not smutty,

WARNING: light making out and some fluff, swearing and drinking.

You placed the empty cup down on the mantle. Fuck this party. The music was terrible and you barely knew anyone; Brooke was the only girl you knew and she’d ditched you for her girlfriend Chloe, but she was also your ride home. You didn’t want to stand in the corner and be miserable so you made the very conscious decision to get drunk as fuck. You were only three beers in and weren’t feeling anything. Glancing around the room you planned your route to grab another drink, but were stopped in your tracks by a figure standing in front of you.

It was Jared. Shit. He was such an asshole. That one kid who very openly laughed when someone got the answer wrong, or who thought his sarcastic comments were the most important part of a conversation. He leaned against the wall, “didn’t think you came to things like this.”

“Didn’t think you got invited to things like this.” You shot back. You think you saw him flinch for half a second but he shrugged it off, “my parents rang the hosts parents so- not that I’m bragging.” He was smirking and you raised your eyebrows, “wow.” Sarcasm dripping from you. He leaned back, “so why you here?” He changed the subject quickly and you both started moving towards the beer, “my friend said she’d stick with me if I came.”

“Where is she?”

“No idea.”

You see him smile a little, “yeah I’ve got no one to talk to either.” You cocked your head to the side and smirked, “you mean constantly correcting people and judging them doesn’t overwhelm you with friends?” You’re tone is a little lighter and playful and you see him relax, “shut up.” There’s a second where you think you might be enjoying his company, “so your plan is what? Get drunk and try to like the people here?” He asked and you nodded, taking a drink and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself, “pretty much. You?”

“Find someone as miserable looking as me to hang out with until my mom picks me up.”

You choke on your drink as your eyes light up, “your mom?” You repeat and see him duck his head, “look, I don’t have a car what was I meant to do?” He spoke quick and a little aggressively and you out your hand up in surrender, “I was just messing with you… My friend can probably give you a ride home if it means you won’t be beaten up quite so severely by literally anyone who sees you getting in your mothers car.” You try to make it sound casual and he looks up, “yeah. Ok. Thanks… I’ll text my mom.” He brings out his phone and sends a message, looking back at you a little embarrassed.

There’s a moment when you look at him that you swear you can see him blush, but he downs his drink quickly after, so it’s hard to tell. As what feels like the hundredth person pushes past you, you look around- “it’s way too crowded, wanna go outside?” He nods, “god yeah. What about your friend?” You look quickly to seeing Brooke doing body shots off her girlfriend, “yeah I’m sure she’s good.”

You both pushed past the now fully drunk teenagers to let the cool air hit you. It wasn’t exactly cold, but in a t-shirt you could feel yourself shudder. He glanced at you and wordlessly took off his flannel shirt and out it around you, “smooth.” You mutter, nudging him. He rubs the back of his neck, “whatever. Don’t bite the hand that flannels.” You smirk and pull it around you a little closer, grateful as a breeze hit you.

“You’re a lot nicer than you come across.” It was more a subconscious thought, and you’re not entirely sure how it found itself outside your head, but once you said it he let out a loud, bizarre laugh. Like if a bouncy-ball had hiccups in an echoey hall. He grinned, “you too.”

You must look a little offended because he looks panicked, “I just mean- you know, you’re so quiet and you roll your eyes a lot.” You feel yourself biting backs smile, “well you say some obnoxious shit. Someone should be rolling their eyes.” He prods your arm lightly, “I can take that flannel back anytime.” You mimic him, “I’d like to see you try.” He’s smiling, and he’s got a fantastic smile. You can feel yourself staring and you quickly snap your vision away.

Jared looked away too, “I don’t say obnoxious shit.” He chuckled, and you leaned against the door frame, “yes. You do. You said 80’s movies were terrible.”

“And I stand by it.”

“Alright,” you turn to him and pull the flannel tight as another gust come through, “we have to have an 80’s movie night. Breakfast club, Lost Boys, Ferris Bueller, all of them.” He gulped hard and gave a small, shaky smile “are you asking me out on a date?” There’s a heavy mocking sense to his words, but his eyes actually look a little hopeful. You feel your face flush, “get over yourself.” You laugh, now fully unable to make eye contact with him.

Suddenly you feel an arm link into yourself, your heart jumps into your mouth when you think it’s Jared, but you turn and see a wasted Brooke hanging off you, “babe I can’t driiive.” She whines into your ear. Chloe’s behind her, barely standing and supported only by holding Brooke’s waist. You look at her and smile, “looks like we’re walking. You gonna be ok for a few blocks?” You ask and she nods sleepily. You turn back to Jared, “sorry- shit you cancelled your ride and everything.”

He started sauntering beside you, “yeah you’re a total inconvenience. I don’t really have a choice except to walk with you.” You smirk, watching Chloe and Brooke walk a head giggling, “you’re allowed to want to walk home with us.” You whisper, dramatically looking around for whatever spies Jared was convinced were following him, trying to catch him being nice. He shoves you with his shoulder and sighs, “yeah- I mean you did ask me out before.”

You feel that familiar heat rising to your cheeks, “you’re not terrible to be around. The word ‘tolerable’ comes to mind…” You watch him stuff his hands in his pockets and figure you may as well dip your toe in, linking your arm around his, you’re not sure if he’s into guys or not but this is… Excusable right? This is just a friendly gesture, “…so I wouldn’t mind spending some of my free time with you.” You grin and catch him staring at you before he snaps out of it, “wow. Was that Shakespeare?” He laughs

You happily spend the rest of the walk like that. Comfortable jabs at each other intermingled with passive-aggressive compliments. You keep your arm around his for the walk, getting closer to one another so that in the silences you can actually rest your head on his shoulder. You wave Brooke and Chloe into Brooke’s parents house as you walk along together. You mention the movies he’s definitely going to be forced into watching, and he’s distraught that you haven’t seen episodes 1 to 3 of Star Wars, so they too are added to an ever growing list.

Once you reach your house you pause, “how’re you getting home? You just sort of kept walking.” You ask. He shrugs, “I’ll text my mom again, she won’t mind.”

“How long will it take her to get here?” You’re trying to sound casual, with the distinct feeling that you’re failing. He looks at the clock on his phone, “10, 15 minutes?” He shrugged and you looked at your house. You’re parents would be asleep. You shift your weight on you feet and glance at him, “you wanna like… Wait inside?” He looks up; eyes wide, “if that’s ok?” You nod and lead him in and unlocking the door.

He sat down on your sofa and you made your way to the kitchen. You glance in through the door frame,

“Do you want tea?”
“Are you gay?”

You pause, “what?”

“Nothing.” He stutters. You sit beside him and turn to look at his now beetroot face. You nod, “I’m attracted to guys… Is that a problem?”

He shook his head, “no, it’s good- I uh… I'm… That too.” he’s stumbling and can’t even look at you, you fight down a smile, “gay?” You ask and he nods.

Every fibre of you tells you not to- but maybe those beers are effecting you more than you’d like. You watch yourself lean in and kiss him lightly on the lips, cupping the side of his face. He didn’t move and your pretty sure his eyes are still open, but he lets out a small squeak. You pull away, feeling his gaze on you as you turn pink and hold your breath waiting for some sort of sign. You turn completely away and feel anxiety grow in the pit of your stomach, “Jesus I’m sor…” You start, but you can’t finish. He’s kissing you. His slightly chapped lips pressing against yours as the smell of way too strong cologne fills you up. You part your lips slightly and bite his bottom lip and tongues brush against the act other.

You pull him slightly on top of you as he leans in between your knees. You run your hands through his hair as his hands fumble their way up to your shoulders and hold on. You fight back a smile realising quite suddenly he has no real idea what he’s doing. You pull away and kiss the crook of his jaw, trying to be careful not to leave a mark. You hear him whisper your name and you bite a little harder, you never knew you could be actually turned on by a dork like Jared Kleinman. He traces a hand up the back of the thigh if your jeans and you kiss down his neck to his collar bone; sucking lightly until you heard his breath hitch.

“Please…” He whimpers, “I can’t get in my moms car with a boner.” He sounded desperate and you smirk, “I mean maybe don’t talk- about your mom- when I’m kissing your neck.” You speak into his jaw and feel him nod, “right, sorry.” You smile, blushing as you slowly feel blood rushing from your head to your crotch.

He kisses you again, ever so slightly more confident as he holds your hips and pushes back your hair, finding some sort of rhythm in himself that neither of you knew he had. You can feel your shirt riding up as he pushes his hand up your stomach to your chest. You’re blushing heavily as you realise you’ve wanted this for longer than you thought. Actually, you want him to rip your clothes off you right now and pull your legs apart and just start-


You both freeze. He looks behind his shoulder, “was that?”


“Your mom’s car.” You answer, sitting up straight and pull your shirt down; trying to not look so disappointed. He stuffs his hands in his pockets trying to hide a still fairly obvious erection. He gets up slowly, sighing in pain as he stands and you get up to open the door, “see you at class?” You ask. He kisses you quickly, pecking you on the lips, “see you then.” You’re embarrassed to admit you feel your heart flutter.

You watch him climb into the back seat of the car and drive away. You smile to yourself as you close the door, fully aware that during that movie marathon you’d planned, neither of you would be watching any of them.

Hands Off the Jacket

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Nine x Rose

Summary: Jack tries on something he shouldn’t. And the TARDIS has a plan.

Notes: Hello lovelies! This silly bit of nothing was written for the  @timepetalsprompts​ drabble prompt ‘the distinct look and feel of leather’, in honour of Nine month! <3 Love Nine! It’s quite silly and has absolutely no plot. I hope you enjoy it anyway (or at least don’t hate it!).

Also on A03 and Teaspoon.

Jack turned to peer at the mirror. “Do you think this makes my butt look big?”

Rose exhaled. “I think you’d better take it off before he finds out and kicks your arse.”

“You don’t think he’d….” The former Time Agent looked partly intrigued.

She rolled her eyes. “No, you arse, but you know how attached he is to that jacket. You’d better take it off before he sees you wearing it.”

Jack pouted. “You’ve worn it, once or twice.”

Actually, she’d worn it a lot more than that, but she wasn’t telling Jack. What happened in the privacy of her and the Doctor’s bedroom was none of his business. “I’m his wife, Jack. He doesn’t mind me borrowin’ the jacket on the odd occasion. But you might want to take it off if you don’t want to have your eighties music collection confiscated. Again.’

His shuddered. “There is just no call for that kind of treatment.” He inhaled deeply. “There really is nothing like the the distinct smell and feel of leather, though.” Seeing her expression, he sighed. “Alright, alright. I’ll take it off- just as soon as you tell me whether it makes my butt look big.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t ask my wife to ogle your slimy  arse, thanks ever so. And don’t touch the jacket!”

Jack paled and whipped around to face the blue-eyed Time Lord who’d seemingly appeared out of no where and stood behind him, arms crossed.

“Doc! Er, I was just…just…”

“Just meddlin’,” the Doctor broke in, eyebrows raised. “Seem to remember telling you to keep your paws me off me jacket, Harkness.”

“Oh, come on, Doc,” the other man whined, to Rose’s amusement. “I just tried it on for a few minutes. Can’t you last without it for a little while?”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “How long can you live without Bon Jovi?”

Moments later, Jack had flung the jacket to the floor and was pelting towards the media room to make sure that his collection of eighties pop was still in its place.

Rose giggled as her husband picked up the jacket. “You’re mean, you are.”

“Oi, I was clear about it from the beginnin’. There’s only one person I trust with me jacket.” His eyes burned. “Feel like tryin’ it on again?”

Seconds later it was Rose who was pelting down the corridor towards their bedroom, with a leather jacket in one hand and a chuckling Time Lord clutching the other.

They didn’t reappear until dinner time.


Jack ate in media room with Bad Medicine blasting, and the TARDIS took advantage of his distraction to hide his Phil Collins collection, which had been her objective in leaving the jacket lying around all along.

She hummed smugly as the CDs accidentally fell into a vat of sulphuric acid and melted into nothing.

Mission accomplished.


In reference to TLJ posters.

On instagram, most_things_kenobi, pointed out that “… in cinematography facing left implies going against the grain/discomfort/confusion. Facing right implies confidence/conformity/peace. Perhaps it implies Kylo and Rey choose the same path while all the other characters are in turmoil….”

Interestingly enough, Ben is the only character that isn’t looking back or off to the side which gives the viewer a distinct feeling of hesitation. He is looking ahead of him and he’s the only one with most of his face showing. Leia looks contemplative and her body is the only one facing forward, while her face is angled to the left. The one character that is nearly facing forward other than Leia is Poe and his face is angled toward the right, peering that way, in fact. Finn is angled left body-wise, but he is looking directly at the viewer, like Rey.

Also, Luke’s, Ben’s and Rey’s poses are the only ones that look to be in motion.

Being Asexual But Not Realizing It: Why Ace Awareness And Pride Are So Important

so. since AAW is almost over and i’ve yet to deliver on the one thing i said i was going to contribute although i will deliver. at some point. eventually i’m going to talk about my experience as growing up asexual without realizing it, since i haven’t really talked about that in detail before

now, the most common narrative we see in the asexual community is aces who grew up feeling broken, knowing there was something different about them, and not knowing how to fix it like everyone told them they should. and this is aces of all ages, from young questioning teens to the elderly who learned the word asexual from their grandkids

and this is an important narrative to highlight, because no one should ever have to go through that. and my heart goes out to every ace who has ever felt this way. only, as i’ve become more involved with the ace community and seen this prevailing narrative, i’ve felt a little confused because, in my case, it was the exact /opposite/ problem for me

because i thought i was straight. even though i exhibited behavior that could be read as bi, even though my parents “worried” i was a lesbian for a number of years, i knew i wasn’t gay and i knew i wasn’t bisexual. i don’t know how, but i did. and because i thought straight and gay and bi were the only sexualities that existed, i figured i must be straight. it was never a question as to whether or not i knew i was, i just wasn’t anything else, so i identified as straight by default

and it’s not that i thought i was straight “but not very good at it.” or that i was straight “but something was still missing.” or even that i was straight “but hey shit happens.” no, i thought i was straight, wholly and completely. and so, because i was undoubtedly straight, i assumed that this was what being straight was. i assumed that how /i/ experienced straightness was how everyone else must be experiencing their straightness

so, how it was for me, is that i thought /i/ was “normal” and that it was literally everyone else who had the problem. because i wasn’t actually experiencing straightness, so obviously our feelings weren’t the same, but i thought they must be, and i held myself as the standard, and when other people didn’t exhibit their straightness as i did, i thought there was something wrong with /them/

frankly, i’m a little concerned to know what this says about my ego, although i’m not about to think it’s exactly a bad thing, since it did save me from that existence of feeling broken and lost and self defeating about my sexuality. or maybe it’s just because i’m a naturally reclusive person and i’ve always been a little more mentally-independent

the point i’m trying to make, is that this is not an ace narrative i’ve ever come across before, only i’m certain i can’t be the only person who has experienced this or something similar. which is why i’ve decided to share this story for AAW, in an effort to bring awareness to the multitude of ways people can grow up being asexual and not realizing it

and this is not to say that i didn’t experience isolation or confusion, because i most certainly did feel these things. although this came from a different perspective than those who think of themselves as the ones who are broken. i didn’t think that i should be feeling like everyone else, i thought everyone else should be feeling like me, and so it confused me that i still couldn’t understand them

because i felt i should have. they were straight, just like me, they felt the same things i did, so why couldn’t i understand them? the degree to which this bothered me varied depending. generally i’m not particularly concerned about the affairs of others, so i didn’t spend /a lot/ of time fussing about this. but when my friends dated or when i heard people talk about sex and all it entailed or when we got the abstinence sermons at church, i did feel very alone

because i didn’t /understand/. why was everyone else obsessed with dating and losing their virginity? why was everyone obsessed with sex? why was everyone having so much romantic drama? why were adults constantly trying to instill in us the importance of abstinence? why was it such a big a deal to wait for marriage?

why were people behaving in ways i couldn’t understand? i felt just like them, so why weren’t they making sense? why was it so hard for them to just not care about sex? to just not have sex? to just not date? if it was so much trouble, why not just avoid it? why was that so hard? what made it worth it to these people?

why did adults keeping telling me it was important to wait? i got it, okay, it wasn’t that hard, you just wait. why did they tell me it was important to resist? what was there to resist? why were they making such a big deal out of it? why did other kids complain about this? it wasn’t that hard, just don’t have sex. so why were they obsessed with it anyway?

it frustrated me to no end that i couldn’t understand these people that i should be able to understand. and sometimes it left me feeling very much alone; and normally i didn’t care about being alone, i didn’t care about being the odd one out, i didn’t care about going my own way as usual

but it was a very distinct feeling of being on the outside looking in. or more accurately, that i was inside and everyone else was outside but they all seemed to be having a good time and i didn’t understand why they didn’t just come inside with me because it was perfecty fine in here

but of course, all of this was because i was coming at it from the wrong perspective. i wasn’t experiencing straightness as i thought i was, it was something else entirely. and it was such an incredible relief to learn about asexuality. because finally--finally–i knew what i was feeling, finally everything /made sense/. it was like i’d been stumbling around in semi-darkness, never questioning that maybe things shouldn’t be like that, and then suddenly all the lights were turned on and i understood

and i was able to relax and find comfort in my identity and stop worrying about understanding all those people and all their ridiculous nonsense. because of course i couldn’t understand it, we were feeling different things. they were feeling exactly as they should, it was i who had mislabeled my feelings. and it was such a relief to know that i wasn’t part of that and so i didn’t have to worry about not fitting in with it

i was part of this whole other group of people, and /these/ people acted in ways i could understand. i didn’t have to be confused or frustrated or isolated because they felt how i did and when they said things, i got it. i could understand these people, and that’s part of why it’s so important to me to contribute to this community as best i can, because it makes sense to me, because for the first time in my life i have found people i can understand

you know, one of the most important aspects of mainting mental health is validation, is understanding. it hurts a person emotionally to be alone, to have no one to talk to, no one who can understand you. and this is coming from me, who relishes being alone, who seeks to be alone whenever possible, who finds fulfillment and satisfaction in solitude

because it’s not just about being physically alone, it’s the emotions. it’s a very different feeling of /wanting/ to be alone and then feeling like you’re alone because you can’t connect with the people around you. even now, sometimes, i get a little tired dealing with my offline friends because none of them are ace and they’re all very sexual, and i don’t mind, really, but it gets lonely, and it’s such a respite to be able to come online and talk to and interact with other ace people whenever i want

and that’s why i’ve decided to share this story, because you guys can understand me, and i know there’s probably some other aces out there who had my same circumstances and maybe wondered if they were the only ones. you’re /never/ the only one, there’s billions upon billions of people on this planet, there is garaunteed to be at least one other person who feels the way you do, and if there’s a chance that i’m that person, well, here i am

that’s why i’m always open to talking to ace people, and especially questioning people, because i can /understand/ you, and sometimes that’s what a person needs. and that’s why this blog exists

that’s why it’s so important to raise awareness of asexuality and instill pride in asexual people, so they don’t have to grow up thinking they’re something they’re not, so they can know that there’s a whole community of others out there that can understand them, and so they never have to feel like they’re alone

~Mod Q