i am incline to be happy

theknittingmermaid  asked:

Wondering how I would do. Chemistry major, unofficially an art minor, ambitions of becoming an astrochemist. Inclined towards illustration, and well read, I know enough about the Gentry not to say Thank You, but am incurably curious.

You’re a chem major - life is perfectly and distressingly mundane, despite your wistful inquiries into the forbidden. You make the best of it, do well in school, graduate happy, and find a job that’s not your dream one, but not too far off. Several years into your post-college life, you take a vacation to do some traveling, step through a doorway in the Black Forest, and never walk out the other side.

guyoftheego  asked:

*crashes into the welcome mat with a TV, a GameCube, and a copy of Super Smash Brothers Melee* Who wants to play some smash?

“ME! ME! ME! I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS BUT I WANT TO PLAY! AS LONG AS IT DOESN’T INVOLVE ACTUALLY SMASHING PEOPLE!”

“sure, why not. games are fun.”

“Assuming it does not contain much violence, I would be happy to watch you play. I am … not particularly inclined toward videogames myself.”

Day and Night AU

DUDES!!! THE FICS ARE HERE!!!!! 

i will update the list whenever a new fic comes up!!!

When the Sun Met the Moon by Birdieee (incomplete)

Finally Here by darklilcorner (complete)

Of Dusk and Dawn and a Love Beyond by exile-wrath (complete)

Dusk & Dawn by helly-watermelonsmellinfellon (incomplete)

When The Sun Chases The Moon From The Sky by shrubbyscribe (incomplete)

Morning and Night by cosmofluous (incomplete)

Of Cloudless Skies and Starry Skies by singacrossthemoon (complete)

For Your Time (I’ll Give You This Smile) by Liana_Legaspi (complete)

Open up the Stars by snarkyauthor (incomplete)

The Tale of the Sun and Moon by katiefrog217 (complete)

Supernova by mythonik (incomplete)

The Legend of the Eclipse by xxdrowningbutbreathingxx (complete)

Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctem by realm-of-spells (complete)

Sky of Endless Love by littlemissmoony (incomplete)

A Lunar Eclipse to Remember by reblogmonstah (complete)

The Eclipse of Roses by OrionHunts (complete)

Nychthemeron by lunaticscribe (complete)

What Dreams May Bloom by shepard-vas-normandy (incomplete)

Stardust by iki-victuri (complete)

Astra Inclinant, Sed Non Obligant by singacrossthemoon (complete)

Other pairings:

Ad Vitam Aeternam by realms-of-spells (Phichit/Christophe)

The Beauty of Dawn by reblogmonstah (Otabek/Yuri)

Modern version. inspired from the artwork of @gittana

Golden Sun and Midnight Moon by d2diamond

YOU ARE ALL SUCH LOVELY PEOPLE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!💙

magnus bane

i am so happy that alec had such a positive character development. BUT can we appreciate the fact that magnus “ive closed myself of for centuries” bane confessed his l o v e as well.

throughout season 2, we see magnus being more and more inclined towards the feeling of love than alec yet he was terrified of admitting it because what if alec didn’t reply the same?

magnus knew that the last time he was in love, it ended badly. he knew that him and camille ended on a bad note. he knew that the last he saw camille, he had sent her off to Idris and that had broken his heart. he was so scared of love.

SO can you imagine how much it meant to magnus when alec said “i love you” ? like he couldn’t believe it that someone actually loved him. in all his time of being a warlock. and that immediately provoked a response out of him. the fact that he didn’t think twice before saying those exact same words back to alec.

you could see that magnus had indeed fallen in love harder than alec has. but that didn’t matter to magnus, because the love of his life was in his arms, safe and sound.

anonymous asked:

Orange is the New Black, Master of None, and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt are all diverse and Netflix-published...

Cool, awesome great. 

OINTB can also kiss my Black ass because they killed off Poussey Washington last Season to help teach white people about racism. 

And awesome!!!!! 2 more shows out of the how many other shows that Netflix produces containing POC!!!! Guess I’m just supposed to be happy with scraps now. 

I am tired of every single last piece of my representation being pushed aside and cancelled because white people love to gas up mediocre shit. 

Renewing 13RW didn’t even make sense?! The story was over?! And in all honesty, it sends a horrible message to people with suicidal inclinations and should never have received all of the praise that it did. It’s straight trash.  

And also like, these 2 shows are just one more piece of the problem. Pitch? Cancelled. Still Star-Crossed? In trouble. Rosewood? Cancelled. Underground? Cancelled. 

And when you don’t have a lot of shows with people who look like you in the lead roles, it is devastating every single time one of the shows is cancelled. Absolutely devastating. 

So y’all can take y’all “consolation prize” shows and stuff them tbh.

I know my love for you is hopeless, and I only scribble all this nonsense to try to make you love me steadily and more deeply. One often spoils things by trying to improve them, but it seems that whatever I do or say makes no difference to you either way. My feelings for you have to seek out some superhuman means of forcing your heart to respond to them. You are not the master of your own inclinations, but I am of mine and I won’t let myself be thrown aside just as trees are stripped of the foliage which gives them their character, their happiness and life. Even in winter I shall keep my green leaves.
—  Frédéric Chopin in a letter addressed to his childhood friend Titus

whitegirlinasia  asked:

This is not so much a question as a request. I want to see a being vs. perception post. Example, what it feels like to be ENTP vs how others see you. What it's like to be an ISTJ vs the common perceptions of ISTJ. I'm down for a post by type or dominant function. If you were up for an epic post, how each type perceives each type. I'll leave the methods and format to you. I love this blog. Thanks in advance.

Good idea. I’ll open the floor for submissions.

ENFP Being: I feel like a direwolf… a wild, untamed thing that will never quite fit in anywhere because it sees what others do not and does not always want to conform to what society demands. I read into things, all the time. Someone does not answer me as promptly as they usually do? Something is wrong. Or they are upset with my last e-mail. I construct ideas on what is going on, what their motives might be, and how to respond instead of just asking. I tend to float in an intangible realm of half-formed thoughts until things occur to me, or click into place, and then I share them.

I waver between being incredibly driven with my personal projects, and wanting to get things done, and astounding levels of total laziness in that anything I have zero interest in, I will show no ambition toward doing or finishing. I often come up with innovative ways to speed a process along just so I’m not stuck in boring, menial tasks. I do not consider myself that interesting, unusual, or innovative, but it seems like my entire drive is intelligent conversation and stimulus. I crave good conversation, intense analysis, depth of discussion. I am both open and easily changeable in my ideas and semi-resistant to them, since it means re-shifting my internal assumptions.

I hold onto a few old concepts and ideas out of sentiment, and because without them there is no truth, no reason, nothing solid; everything in abstract reality, every tradition and belief is compiled of tradition more than truth. If you take them all away, I have no foundation, and the thought that I know nothing more than an accumulation of centuries of other people’s assumptions that form the basis of my faith, my understanding, and my expectations is both at once satisfying (because it offers a blank slate on which to build anew) and terrifying (because how can I find moral truths if culture simply decides truth?).

I experience these kinds of intense abstract thoughts all the time, though I almost never share them with others. I drift between relentless idealism in my desire to see the world improve and others reach their full potential, and total annoyance at my inability to accept reality for what it is – I push away from things that threaten my idealism while at the same time being drawn to the darker aspects of humanity and reality. I feel inwardly intense, often self-critical and irritated that I am not more of an achiever, or bolder, or struggle to keep interest in things once I have explored their potential. I’m not sentimental 99% of the time, but … I get used to having things the same, and wallow in it, fearful nothing will ever change while not being proactive in changing it.

How others see me: Sarcastic and irreverent, but also moralizing and strong-willed. Changeable and inconsistent, with different points of view – some people find me “intense,” and others find me “comfortable to be with.” Some think I am bossy and no-nonsense; a few find me intimidating; others would say I don’t assert myself enough and am conflict-adverse. Others find me hilarious, withdrawn, or intellectual.

The perception of ENFP: is a happy go lucky cheerleader who drops everything to travel the world, who falls in love easily, or is always cheerful, who is full of new ideas they never follow through on and is irresponsible, always late, and overly emotional. It doesn’t fit me. I’m more inclined toward angst or melancholy than I am to cheer people on; I am not a globe-trotter and spend most of my time at home (but if I cannot socialize online or with family, I get tired and crabby); I tend to have ideas here and there, but choose one, focus on growing and developing it (allowing other ideas to present themselves as the project takes gradual shape) and then finish it before I move on to another project. I’m responsible, always twenty minutes early or on time, and prone to bouts of sarcasm to cover up my feelings. I’m not easily insulted.

Your turn. I’d like to see one for each type.

I think something that’s important for me, in terms of thinking about the show, is that I’m not coming at it just as a puzzle to be solved. I’m coming at it as someone with a lot of training in analysing literary texts. (Too much, one could say, but ah well!) I’m not trying to throw my credentials around with the idea that my theories are better, just offering my two cents about why my approach might be a bit different from some others.

I can see that it might seem backward to some people to start from the end of the text as we have it when trying to understand it. It also might seem backward to look at the results of a reading and say, hey, this has more satisfying parallelism and more resonant symbolism and is more beautiful in terms of making sense of character development, therefore it’s the reading I prefer. I know for some people, the readings I most enjoy aren’t satisfying because they don’t offer a single explanation for everything or they don’t seem to take everything into account. I don’t need them to, and here’s why. 

In academic terms, the strength of a reading always depends on the kinds of results it produces, and not on its ability to completely explain every single apparent anomaly of that text. By “results” I mean, essentially, how aesthetically beautiful a reading is, how much it glows with meaning–for the characters, and for the consumer of that text. There are more puzzle-solvish types of analysis–I did some myself in grad school. But even so, they tend to pull a single thread (like, how a bit of Renaissance medical terminology can help explain a set of tropes in a dramatic genre from that period, to take a random example from my thesis). There is no impulse to explain every aspect of a text. (The one lunatic from my grad school days who proposed to write a grand unifying theory about the entirety of Shakespearean canon unsurprisingly never finished his degree.)

The role of art is to make sense of the world on the level of human emotion and experience, and the role of literary criticism is to help explain and make connections with the ways in which a text makes sense of the world. Not the way in which the plot hangs together, necessarily, because plots cannot be relied upon to do that. The ways in which the characters experience their world and the ways in which those experiences are framed and represented and what effect this representation has on the audience and how all of that intersects with Story as a whole–these are the kinds of things I tend to be interested in. 

When I talk about BBC Sherlock, I’m talking about it from the perspective of someone who wants to understand what it’s saying about our two beloved main characters. I want to see and understand how it is telling a story, what story it is telling, and what sorts of meanings we can derive from it. 

Since I see the show as a love story, I’m more inclined toward a reading that involves both people included in that romance. I’m more inclined toward a reading that allows John his time in the spotlight, and, although I am still sad about the way the show chose to go with his character (OH MY GOD SO DARK), I am really happy that they didn’t make him out to be a Nigel Bruce style plank who goes along with whatever Holmes decrees. I’m more inclined toward a reading that offers an exploration of the extremely hot mess that John is, inside, and that reciprocates Sherlock’s ornate Victorian mind palace with John’s bleak prison, Sherlock’s lush waterfall with John’s deep well. 

There’s logic, and there’s story logic. The kind of sense that stories make is not the kind of sense reality makes–thank fucking goodness, or else I’m sure I would have expired ages ago. When approaching a text, I don’t feel compelled to approach it with the same standard I approach reality. Essentially, this is all I’m saying. 

All of this does not mean that I’m dismissing other readings. It just means that, for me, I’m approaching this from the perspective I’ve always held–that this is a text that deserves unpacking like any other, and that it holds extraordinary beauty despite the fuckery of s4, despite the deliberate attempts to put us off, despite the fact that s4 progressively crumbles under an attempt to take it at face value. 

For me, and according to my taste, beauty is to be found in more abundance in the readings I prefer. You go ahead and find yours, wherever it resides for you. That is the whole point of doing this work of interpretation–to unpack this tangled mess of a text for yourself, to decide what reading works for you.  

Clara and I were waiting for the light to change in San Francisco when we were accosted by a pushy street preacher who said vague street preacher things I wasn’t really listening to and then said to me “you and your sister -”

“Oh,” I said, “she’s not my sister, she’s my girlfriend.” (I’m really not sure why he went for ‘sister’ instead of ‘friend’ - I wouldn’t have corrected him over ‘friend’ - I don’t think we were even holding hands or anything else you might parse as sisterly if you weren’t inclined to parse it as romantic.)

“Oh,” he said. “Well, I don’t really believe in lesbianism.”

I was not actually sure he had said that until I talked to Clara, and by then the light had changed and so we just crossed the street. It was just as well because neither of us could really think of anything to say. 

I am very happy to live somewhere where this is rare enough to be hilariously funny when it happens. 

____

A couple weeks before this a guy asked me out when I was walking at night. “Sorry,” I said, “I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh!” he said. “That’s cool, I’m totally cool with that, I’ve got nothing against that. Good for you! It’s totally cool. Great! Okay.”

___

When I kiss a girl in public I have noticed people going out of their ways to smile supportively at us.

___

I think there’s something like a progression here, from forbidden to ‘technically allowed, but with invisible social penalties and lots of bad reactions’ to ‘okay, with some risk of bad reactions and everyone else demonstratively signaling that they won’t have a bad reaction’ to ‘literally not even a thing’. I live in a ‘literally not even a thing’ community, from which vantage point both the demonstrative signaling and the disapproval are kind of entertaining. But they aren’t funny to the people actually immersed in them. 

anonymous asked:

Tips for coming up with character names/talents/powers

Hello!  Unfortunately, that’s an incredibly wide range of attributes, and I’m not exactly sure how to concisely answer this at the moment.  

My tips on how to get to know a character are right here, as well as this masterpost with everything you need to know about character design, naming, and development right here.  Hopefully these will get you started.   

Also, just for future reference, I’m a lot more inclined to help out if you start your ask/submission with a polite greeting and preferably include a ‘thank you’ of some sort.  I love receiving asks from you guys, and am always happy to help in any way I can, but it’s nice to feel appreciated and good manners will always leave a nicer taste in my mouth.

In any case, I hope the links give you what you need for the time being, and I will add more posts on character naming and development to my “to do” list.

Best of luck, and happy writing!  <3    

Pointed talks

A belated birthday gift for one of the best people out there, @mab-speaks. Happy birthday, my dear. I hope all is going well.

Betaed by the kind and sweet @percyinpanties.

Read it on AO3.


“Thing is, as I was choking just now, I kept thinking: this is payback for Akhlys. The Fates are letting me die the same way I tried to kill that goddess. And… honestly, a part of me felt I deserved it. That’s why I didn’t try to control the giant’s poison and move it away from me. That probably sounds crazy.”

Jason thought back to Ithaca, when he was despairing over the visit from his mom’s spirit. “No. I think I get it.”

Percy studied his face.

Jason stayed silent for a moment, weighing his words. Just when Percy looked like he was about to change the topic, he spoke.

“I mean that when I felt the Imperial Gold sword go through me and burn my skin, I felt like that was punishment, too.”

His hand went down to his belly where he could almost feel the burn of the scar seething through his clothes, and a wry smile creeped on his face.

“Like some kind of joke - It was a roman, an ultimately traitorous spirit at that, who did it, and the guys from Camp Jupiter probably are saying now I backstabbed them by siding with you, not to mention what happened with mom. So really, I can relate.”

Percy said nothing. When it looked like Jason had nothing more to add, Percy opened his mouth to say something, but Jason continued.

“Look, I get it. Your pain is valid, dude. But you don’t deserve to die - not like this, not ever.
You make mistakes, we all do. But beating yourself up over self-defense that happened in the heat of the moment - that’s understandable.”

Percy chuckled without humour.

“Look, I appreciate the thought, Jason, but we should head back, shouldn’t we?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he seemed to know it because he wouldn’t meet Jason’s gaze.

Jason took a deep breath.

“Yeah, let’s. Wouldn’t want to make them think we actually ended up kicking the bucket in your element.”

Keep reading

8

He composed, in his own mind, with Combeferre’s philosophical and penetrating eloquence, Feuilly’s cosmopolitan enthusiasm, Courfeyrac’s verve, Bahorel’s smile, Jean Prouvaire’s melancholy, Joly’s science, Bossuet’s sarcasms, a sort of electric spark which took fire nearly everywhere at once.- Enjolras and his Lieutenants, 4.1.6

I’ve heard people joke about what a horrible speech that would be, but… that’s The Speech, that’s the Quel Horizon speech. They’re all in there. (I don’t know where he got the Goats of Darkness, but I am inclined to blame the Romantics.) I’ll probably post these separately later with more about the quotes and all (and for now please do click through for the bigger images)  but for now, Happy First Barricade Day! 

Hopefully pt 1; I’ll see tomorrow.

Anyway, The Speech under the cut! 

Keep reading

Bunting bunting everywhere!

I’ve just started making bunting. Felt letters and shapes, stuffed and unstuffed, blanket stitched and threaded on silky white cord.

Since sharing them here and on FB I have had a few people approach me to ask me to make them personalised ones, included but not limited to Girl Almighty and lighting bolts. Seeing as some of you have also contacted me about similar things I thought I’d make an actual post about it.

I can make anything really, and am happy to chat through ideas. For example: HOME with little houses / rainbow fabric hearts on either side; STRONG/YOU MAKE ME STRONG with blue/green hearts between the words; IICF with paper planes / birds between the words etc (or /even/ something non-1D related)

Seeing as I am ‘using’ tumblr and we all have the boys in common I am happy to donate 10% of any profit to one of the boys charities (of your choosing). The bunting would be approximately £17 plus p&p (which shouldn’t be much as they are very light). Each one would take approximately 1-2 weeks to make and in the spirit of me trying to get organised as much notice as possible would be wonderful.

Anyway! Here are some examples, feel free to message me if you are interested/ signal boost of you feel so inclined 😘

The One Where Nobody Dies - ACOTAR Fluff - 1/1 - G

The fic that spawned the Spring Bride!Cassian headcanon and honestly one of my faves because fluff <3 

AO3 LINK HERE

Block my fics with #sdcfics

Pairing: Light Moriel, Cassian x Accidental, unwanted Bridehood, and Amren x Goats

Summary:

In which Azriel is terrible at texting back, Morrigan continues to endure the idiocy of her dysfunctional family, Cassian becomes The Bride of Spring, Amren cannot maintain long-distance relationships with goats, and Rhysand is barely mentioned.

Special Guests Include: Flower Crowns, Polygamous Nymphs, and most dangerous of all, Vegetarians.

Tags: Fluff, Letter Writing, Spring Bridge!Cassian, Long Distance Relationship, Starfall, Canon Compliant pre-ACOWAR 


A month after Azriel left for the Dawn Court, Morrigan’s patience ran out. Cassian, who had been the only other one to remain behind for this mission, had done his best to keep her entertained; To his credit, she’d lasted more than a week before writing, which was her previous record. Two weeks before starfall, however, she could take it no longer.

Slamming her bedroom door behind her, she sat down at her writing desk, seized a pen as if it were a mighty sword, and wrote:

Dear Two-Faced, Good For Nothing Liar,

I believe I am now owed four letters, according to your promise of a weekly deliverance? For someone wielding a blade named ‘Truth-Teller’, you are either the biggest con artist in the Night Court (which we can both agree is a tremendous feat) or extraordinarily bad at keeping track of time. Or perhaps the Dawn Court is entirely barren of paper and ink? I wouldn’t know, since I’ve never been there. Hence why I asked you to keep me at least a little bit in the loop.

Although, at this point, I’m not sure I’d care even if they all were starved cannibals or psychotic cultists up there. If they are, tell them I hope they enjoy devouring you, and that it doesn’t cause them to inherit your penchant for breaking promises. I’d hate for there to be another court full of liars.

I have attached a perfectly good pen, and a blank piece of parchment. If you do not return this letter, I shall know for certain you have been eaten.

Yours ever so bitterly,

Mor .

*

Dear Cruelly Betrayed Damsel,

When have I ever kept the promises you force me into, to write to you on missions? As someone involved in such matters, I can inform you with ample evidence that written correspondence is by far the most frequently intercepted. Many a High Lord has fallen due to his subjects’ liberties with a pen.

Yours Sincerely,

The High Lord of The Night Court’s Spymaster

*

Dear Self Important Asshole,

A reply, and on the same night it was requested? By the Cauldron, what miracle is this?

Judging by your patronising tone, perhaps you do not think me capable of basic levels of intelligence. However, I would like to inform you that I am plenty aware that this ‘mission’ you are accompanying my cousin on has nothing whatsoever to do with war, or corruption, or scheming (for once). Celebrating a wedding and brokering a treaty is supposed to be a joyous occasion. Honestly, what sort of people have you been in the company of to be so disturbingly suspicious? They must be intolerable.

If I cannot persuade you to reveal all of your secrets to me, might you be willing to indulge my curiosity about the Dawn Court? It is the only one I have never had the chance to visit, and given how secretive and insular they are, I may never get the chance to. Especially if this letter does indeed cause the downfall of The Night Court.

I’m certain that you elite mission-goers care not for those you abandoned, but if you ever need some amusement, I shall relay what’s occurred in your absence. I hope you shall return the favour.

Cassian’s still furious he was left behind, and it’s made him dreadfully restless; he’s been at Rita’s every night since you left. I’d accuse him of having a drinking problem, if I wasn’t so worried he gets into all of this trouble sober. Some tales of his adventures are too abhorrent to risk committing to paper, but last night’s tale (or more accurately, this morning’s) is one I believe you’ll enjoy.

When I left Cassian last night in the middle of Rita’s, he’d devolved into his usual favoured drinking game of arm wrestling and shots (though he seemed to drink regardless of whether or not he lost) and so I thought he was perfectly safe - As you well know, worst case scenario, I’d have to clean him up the next morning, along with whatever stray pretty thing he brought home for the night. Or so I thought.

This morning though, he hadn’t come home. Last time, you had your ‘eyes and ears’ locate him in thirty minutes passed out in a fountain canoodling with a goat (I am still certain he was trying to make Amren jealous). I, being only a mere, ignorant savage, had to go out and find him on foot.

There are few things more delightful than asking people - who know and respect you as the cousin of the High Lord - if they have seen your hungover, beaten up alcoholic of a friend. Incidentally, I may not be able to go out to the Rainbow for a while - at least not until they’ve forgotten my name and face entirely. Especially since one woman informed me that people like us ‘are the reason Velaris is falling to the deviant ways of The Court of Nightmares’. Well. As they say: You can take the woman out of the Court of Nightmares, but…

Sorry, I’m getting away from the report - because yes, this ended up being quite the mission. Anyway, eventually a lesser faerie, who I’m not sure spoke our language, nodded and ushered me into his home. It wasn’t a large building, but it was overflowing with faeries of all shapes and sizes running about everywhere, some children, some adults, all chattering in foreign tongues. He guided me to a room upstairs, opened the door, and sure enough, there was Cassian, in bed with a stunningly beautiful nymph who frankly could have done better. Along with five others.

But- well. You know nymphs, Az. In their culture, to bed a nymph is to propose, so…

Long story short, Cassian and I are going to be spending the week trying to avoid his being wed into yet another family. Although, quite frankly, I think he should go. His bride to be is beautiful, the mother very enthusiastic about his wingspan (perhaps you’d be best to avoid meeting them), and I’ve been told they all write letters to one another all the time, since they live all over the courts. Much better than our family.

Dragging Cas out as six nymphs all cried ‘My Husband!’ though was both mortifying for me and for them. I fear we may have caused yet more domestic drama for Rhys’ citizens. I fear The Night Court may fall regardless of my letter writing or lack thereof.

Az, Cassian is never boring, but I am missing you. Please write. I need someone to keep me sane. Especially with the gaggle of nymphs coming knocking for their husband every hour.

Yours pleadingly,

The Last Sane Person in Velaris.  

*

Dear Maid of Honour,

I have informed the rest of Cassian’s family of his recent engagement. They are all overjoyed, and wish him joy and happiness in his new life. Rhys has offered to wreathe him a flower crown for the occasion. Amren said she would sacrifice the finest goat in all of Velaris and let him bathe in its blood the night before his wedding. She assures me it will work wonders for his skin.

I for one am inclined to agree with you. However, I think the saving grace of this shotgun marriage shall be that it is to six women. I fear only six or more people would be capable of taking care of the overgrown baby I have come to call a brother.

Have you helped him to pick out a dress?

Celebrations aside, I suppose I could let you in on some of the secrets of The Dawn Court. In return, however, I demand to be made a bridesmaid at the wedding. I would like a pink dress, please; Lady Aelin said it would bring out the colour of my eyes.

I’m afraid to inform you that you really are missing out, Mor. The Dawn Court is… You remember how seeing your first starfall felt? Coming here, it was just like that, only knowing it surrounded you, and would go on forever and ever. The sky here always looks as though you are viewing it through frost-covered glass, and no matter the time of day, even night, it’s full of so many colours, shades upon shades upon shades, always shifting. Everything is so still, and yet it always feels as if something wonderful is coming round the corner, like some long-needed surprise is brewing. I don’t know how to explain it. There’s something in the omnipresent gentle breeze, the hum of birdsong, and the not-quite-yet-warm-but-getting-there cool of this place that leaves it caught between perfect serendipity and anticipation.

Rereading that, I realise I am never going to be cut out to be a poet. I should have written Rhys’ charming speech of praise that he rattled off to the High Lord. You’d describe it better, if you were here. I’d understand it better, if you were here to talk about it, to give words to feelings and thoughts.

There is a reason I never wrote before.

But, you have forced my hand. Now you must endure my stunted vocabulary and prose.

It’s very quiet here without you. I never thought I’d be one to say this, but I miss the noise.

I miss you.

Not as much as I’ll miss the blushing bride when he joins his new family, mind you.

I shall be awaiting news on my dress,

The Future Bridesmaid.

*

Dear Fool,

Have you forgotten my warnings? If the bride’s family ever sees you and your wingspan, they will surely disown Cassian immediately. Could you really live with yourself after crushing his fragile dreams?

To update you on the wedding preparations, Cassian has now taken to hiding up in the House of Wind to escape the nymphs’ persistence. He is every bit the anxious bride - he paces all day around his room, fretting. I’d worry he was getting cold feet if I could not hear him constantly declaring ‘I’ll never drink again!’

I am very proud of him for not only deciding to settle down, but to turn over a new leaf and give up his rapscallion lifestyle. They’ll make an honest man of him yet.

Going by a notice I saw put up in the Rainbow, a room has been booked for the wedding reception this Sunday. Managing to book a room a week before starfall? The bride’s family must be impressively influential to secure a deal like that. Just who has Cassian managed to ingratiate himself with?  

I don’t need you to be a poet, spymaster. Hearing it in your words was more than enough. Rhys would just tell me about the politics, and Cassian about the attractive noblemen and women. Amren would- well, are there any goats there to wax lyrical about?

I loved it. And now am incredibly envious and wish I could be with you there. Take me one day, will you, when you’ve helped secure the most bountiful treaty of all time between our two courts? It might have to be just us, since Cassian is being whisked away and Rhys and Amren are so fond of Velaris. Would you mind being my personal tour guide?

See, now that you’ve indulged my wish for you to write to me, I want you all to myself. This is a slippery slope you’ve set off on, little Illyrian boy.

Oh, and just a thought: Who is Lady Aelin? She clearly has excellent taste in fashion and eyes.

Yours selfishly,

An Acute Sufferer of Wanderlust.

P.S. Come back home already, and I’ll fit the dress for you myself. It shall be the prettiest in all the lands. I promise.

*

Dear Flighty Wedding Planner,

Haven’t you got an event to plan? I’ve been informed weddings are a nightmare to organise. You’d best take this seriously; we can’t have all of Prythian knowing that Rhys’ Third in Command can’t even ensure a wedding goes off smoothly.

To your credit, you have cured Cassian of his brewing alcoholism (no pun intended).

Amren is due to return to Velaris tomorrow; The Dawn Court has failed your dreams of cannibalism and cult sacrifices. In reality, they are all strictly vegetarians. Far more dangerous than our letter writing has been the way Amren’s been eyeing their beloved livestock, which they regard as being next to sacred.

I’m not a storyteller like you, but I will try to explain why she is, unofficially, being banned from the Dawn Court. I expect when she returns she will not wish to be questioned, so I am saving you from some icy glaring if nothing else.

High Lord Kaal led us on a ride, to the borders of his court, so that we could view his lands and assets. Rhys was sold on the idea of treaty early last week, but he’s dragging it out to try and get the terms in our favour, so we’ve been playing the usual Night Court act. Amren has been terrifying everyone with her dead silence and never dropping a glare. They tto believe she is a great and terrible being out of their myths, and she’s been indulging that theory gleefully.

Anyway. The tour was going well. We all stopped at the borders and dismounted, Kaal showing us how secure the boundaries are. There were talks of signing the treaty tonight and being done with it. All was well.

When we turned back around, however, we realised Amren was still on her horse. More… pressingly , she had her mouth at the horse’s neck. I didn’t think it within her character but looking closer, she did indeed have her fangs out and sunk into the poor creature’s neck. She was still mounted, gnawing upon its neck, blood all over the white riding clothes of The Dawn Court she wore.  

It’s complicated the whole mission completely, but Mor, it was entirely worth the while just to see Amren’s face when she realised what she was doing. She looked like a child caught sneaking pastries from the bakery. Certainly, she still strikes the fear of the Mother into me, but I’ll never take her quite so seriously again.

I think she’s a bit embarrassed, if Amren could ever be such a thing. Try to be gentle with her.

As for Lady Aelin, she is the young daughter of Kaal. I’ve been assigned to occupying her whilst Rhys courts her father. She has somewhat… extreme views, and it’s best if they’re not expressed repeatedly during diplomatic conversations. She is pleasant enough on other topics, however, so it hasn’t been too tiresome.

Look after Amren for us,

Azriel.

P.S. Forgive me if I decline that generous offer. I fear you might exact your revenge for my letter writing habits if armed with needles and have me at your mercy.

*

Dear Azriel,

Amren returned an hour ago. She left the moment she arrived; I believe she is at the butchers, but I cannot confirm this.

I’m glad to hear Lady Aelin isn’t too tiresome. I’d be crestfallen to think that amongst all that splendor, the company was letting you down. I hope her conversational skills stretch beyond what colours compliment your eyes, however.

Yours sincerely,

Mor.

P.S. I just might.

*

Dear Morrigan,

I spoke the truth; Aelin isn’t as trying as most foreign court royalty tends to be. However, she is still only a child, barely into adulthood. She hasn’t seen anything beyond the borders of her kingdom, and though she thinks herself fierce and wise to the world’s horrors, she’s as naive as a human who still believes in iron and holy water.

Forgive me for deviating, but I wanted to remind you that you are sorely missed here in the Dawn Court. Everything here is so strict and spiritual, I am keenly feeling the absence of your humour and good sense. Not just myself; Rhysand has started talking to himself as if you were there with him, and whilst it’s thoroughly amusing to witness, it reminds me of your absence all over again.

Unfortunately, I fear we won’t return before Starfall. Amren’s slaughter of the horse has created more distrust in this court than I’d thought possible given how well things were going. Please, watch and enjoy it for me.

How is the blushing bride faring?

We miss you,

Azriel.

P.S. I’m beginning to doubt pink is my colour. Perhaps you could give me some more experienced advice?

*

Dear Lonely Boy,

You won’t be back before Starfall? I thought it was assured that you would? Didn’t we have plans for the evening? I am certain you promised to let me take you to Ritas for the first time.

I understand, however. The mission always has to come first, and I don’t want you being murdered by people who get all up in arms over some horse. I’m not particular fond of animals at the best of times, but when they are used to start wars, they’re particularly irksome. And when they keep you (and Rhysand, of course) away from me when I have delightfully delicious plans for you, well then. I hope Amren enjoyed her meal.

Apparently, the men down in Velaris have been so inspired by the nymphs’ persistence in affairs of the heart that all six of the nymphs have received nearly a dozen proposals. Cassian, it seems, has been quite forgotten. Rumour has it that one of the proposals was from an Illyrian with an even larger wingspan than his.

Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he’s more than a little jealous of how things worked out. I think the constant deliveries of love poetry and flowers were starting to grow on him. Amren has been helping mend his broken heart though, don’t worry. They’ve spent all day in his room together. Amren has been showing him how to weave flower crowns; we’re all to wear them for starfall, apparently.

They’re making one for you, too.

So please try come back for then. It won’t be the same without you.

Yours hopefully,

A Future Flower Princess

P.S. Lady Aelin sounds quite intolerable

P.P.S. There may be no wedding, but I will still happily fit you a dress.

*

Dear Azriel,

It’s been nearly a week. I know you are busy due to complications but it’s starfall tonight.

Are you coming home?

Yours,

Mor.

*

Az,

Starfall is in an hour. Rhysand isn’t replying either.

Are you okay? What’s going on?

Please be safe,

Mor.

*

Out on the balcony that looked out across Velaris and the vast expanse of the horizon, Mor hurriedly tried to finish scribbling yet another letter. Cassian was organising the others who’d come to watch below, and Amren was skulking around somewhere, systematically crowning all of the guests with the hundreds of flower crowns they’d been able to make out of the hoard of bouquets.

Already, the stars were beginning to bud and brighten in the sky, and Mor knew Starfall was about to begin. Before she had a chance to magic her desperate note away, however, a slip of paper appeared beside her hand.

Mor,

I would never endure a starfall without you.

Yours,

Az

P.S. Turn around

anonymous asked:

i'm just going to rant. i am tired of a double standard in the phandom. that A LOT of phans act a certain way when it's phil and a different way when it's dan. like the jabs in the quick draw video. a lot of people felt sorry for phil because dan made fun of his ability to draw. the problem is THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN IF THE TABLES WERE TURNED! if phil said the EXACT SAME THINGS to dan everyone that does this would be like " yaaas, phil putting dan in his place finally!" treat them equally instead!

im not sure if something i posted made you write this but if it did then im sorry because i 100% agree??

im just going to write out a list because that way its easier for me to sort out my own thoughts

1. people seem to forget that both dan and phil are functioning adults with a long history of friendship

2. obviously if phil felt offended by something dan does then he would have said so off camera and the video would have been different

3. people always seem to think that phil is overlooked & dan is the more popular one (which is technically true) and as such, they get “mad” at dan for the weirdest things

4. people think phil is a cute little cinnamon roll who needs to be protected <– like honestly i hate that mindset so much?? he is a grown man???? yes he is a NICE MAN but still an adult please stop acting like he is a child/victim of some sort until it does actually happen, which i hope it wont

5. people forget that they do have a ~PERSONA~ on camera and they are a double act. their videos are fairly genuine imo but there is still a danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil, not Dan and Phil.

6. poking fun at your friends/partners is a totally normal thing. this is what i do with almost any friend i have and they do it back to me and nobody cries. if someone goes too far they say so and it never happens again and the world lives on

LONG STORY SHORT: im 100% sure phil doesn’t mind dan’s teasing and if anything i am happy to see it because its probably closer to how they interact in real life and there is nothing wrong with that. i love BOTH dan and phil but im not delusional so i dont feel inclined to feel sorry for either of them when they’re both CLEARLY HAVING FUN.

anonymous asked:

How about lazy mornings with the chocobros?

Yes, definitely, I need this in my life! Also I am so sorry I took so long, wow. I’ve sucked so bad today.

Noctis: Let’s face it, with Noct every morning is a lazy morning. You wake up somewhere around mid-morning, a tangle of limbs and blankets, neither of you giving any inclination of your consciousness, but you’d each be aware that the other was awake. For the most part, you’d just lay there, happy enough to just pretend to sleep.
“We should probably get up before noon.” you whisper.
Noctis tightens his hold on you, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Don’t want to. Too comfy.” he groans. His fingers snake up the back of your camisole, drawing lazy swirls along your spine in an effort to lull you back to sleep.
You purr, arching your back. “Noctis.” you mewl, cuddling back into him. Damn, this man knew you too well. He went right for your weak point and you almost fell for it. “No, c'mon. We need to get up.” You weakly push his hand away, momentarily mourning the loss of those soft fingers on your back.
Grumbling to himself, Noctis tries to curl his arms around you and pull you back into the bed as you roll out of his reach. “(y/n), no, don’t be this way!” he whines.
You tumble over to the curtains, yanking them open and flooding the room with light. You watch in amusement and Noctis hisses dramatically and pulls the blankets over his head.
“(y/n), you traitor!”
You laugh to yourself, shaking your head. “Oh, stop being such a drama queen.” You pick up his clothes from last night and throw them at him. “Come on, if we’re lucky maybe Iggy’ll come over and make pancakes.”

Prompto: Prompto’s an early riser by nature, so he’s always awake before you. He’s not against laying in bed, curled around you until you wake up, just once in a while. After almost an hour, though, he gets bored. He begins gently nibbling on your collarbone, stopping when he feels you stirring, only to start back up again once you’ve resettled yourself. “Quit it.” you whine, pushing weakly at his chest.
He chuckles, pulling you back and kissing your forehead. “Breakfast?”
You crack one eye open, glaring at him with pursed lips. “I’m not your breakfast.” you grumble.
“Are you sure about that?” Prompto smirks, going back to nibbling your collarbone. “You’re just so tasty!” He pins your wrists to your sides, keeping you struggling and shrieking with laughter as he nips playfully along your neck. When he finally relents, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and laughs along with you as you calm yourself. “Seriously, though,” he says, laying a kiss on your jaw. “What do you want for breakfast?”
You hum in thought. “I kinda want French toast.” you mutter. “With honey and bananas. Sound good?”
Prompto sat up, humming to himself with a smile. “Yeah, that sounds great.” he replies. He snatches last night’s tank off the floor of your bedroom and pulls it over his head. “C'mon, time to get up.” he says.
“Yeah, yeah.” You pull the blankets further around yourself. “Just gimme five more minutes.”

Ignis: Lazy days with Ignis are rare, and when they do happen, you hardly ever end up staying in bed past 10. By then you have migrated to the sofa, bringing your pillows along with you, a mug of ebony in hand, naturally. “Ugh, morning TV sucks.” you growl, flipping through the channels. Tedious talk shows and so-called “reality” TV made up the bulk of morning scheduling. You were seconds away from just putting on some cartoons. You eventually settle on a light news channel.
Ignis doesn’t seem to care what was on television. He, instead, focussed his attention on you. On raking his fingers through your hair, twisting the tips slightly and letting them fall back into place.
You lay your head on Ignis’s shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh. “Should we just watch a movie?” you ask.
“Are you prepared to leave the sofa?” he replies with a raised eyebrow.
“We have Netflix,” you remind him. “I won’t have to.” You log into your Netflix account through your console and start flicking through the various movies. Maybe a nice, chilled out feel-good movie?
Ignis acknowledges your point with a nod, going back to playing with your hair. “We’ve not yet eaten breakfast.” he mutters to you.
“Ah, yeah.” You lay down the controller on your lap. “We should probably do that.”
“Dippy eggs?”
“Dippy eggs!”

Gladiolus: While more commonplace than with Ignis, lazy days are infrequent with Gladio, too. Mainly because you’re both highly motivated people, you live for a purpose, sitting around doing nothing can be extremely frustrating for you. That said, on the odd day where you allow yourselves the indulgence of a lay-in, you can spend hours talking, sharing deep, meaningful conversations, or just chatting casually. And, occasionally, you just liked to wind him up.
“So, like, are all stars just giant balls of fire, or is it just our sun?” you ask.
Gladio sighs deeply, not even turning to look at you. “(y/n), for the millionth time, the sun is not fire. It’s plasma.” he grumbles.
You shrug, pretending to be interested in your nails. “Well, plasma’s just like, super hot fire. So, technically, I’m not wrong.” You smirk, feeling him tense. Surely, he knows by now not to take you seriously?
He glares at you out of the corner of his eye. He knows full well what you’re doing, but still, he allows you to get the better of him. “No, there’s no technically about it. You’re wrong. End of story.” Gladio rests his hand atop your head, stroking through you hair absent-mindedly. “And yes, all stars are made of plasma. And that’s my last word on it.”
You open your mouth, then close it. Okay, no more sun banter for today. Maybe you could find something else to irritate him, instead.
“Are we thinking fry-up for breakfast?” he asks.
“Oooh, fry-up!” Okay, maybe you’ll ease up on the teasing for today.

I haven’t been as low as I have been the last few days for a long long time. You have really really hurt me. But maybe that was what you wanted I guess. Anyway, being so low and struggling to get out of bed for longer than 30 minutes has given me a lot of time to think. I know you hate paragraphs, but don’t worry, I can promise you this will be the last one you receive. The things you said to me two days ago are unforgivable. I hope that maybe one day you realise that they were just collateral damage to the anger and the upset and they are not how you truly feel, but if this day never comes then I am sorry that you ever thought so badly of me.

I am so deeply and truly sorry that I ever made you think that I didn’t love you, or that you loved me more. I am sorry that I didn’t do enough to show you how much I care about you. I thought I was doing enough, but having had time to reflect I guess that maybe that wasn’t enough, but that realisation has clearly come too late and that is my fault. You are the first person I ever loved. That is why this has been so hard for me. That is why, despite everything that has been said and done, I can still look at photos and videos of us and smile and laugh. That is why I just can’t let you go, why I am struggling so hard. I am sorry for not making the journey to see you. I thought I didn’t have the time, but that’s not an excuse. I should have found the time. You are everything to me and you were then too. I was just so flustered and had so many different new experiences going on at once that I was overwhelmed. I am sorry that I didn’t write more in your Christmas card and I am sorry that made you think that I didn’t love you.

I hope one day in the future we can see each other once again. I hope that this isn’t over. But maybe it is. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. But I need to stop trying to plan everything. As you have kept telling me to do. It’s just how I have always lived my life. But it’s hurting me more than it’s helping me.

So I just wanted to clarify for you - you are the only thing I have ever loved. From September to December I was the happiest I have ever been in my life and I will spend the rest of my life trying to find that happiness again. I loved you with everything I had, but maybe that just wasn’t enough and for that I am sorry.

But I also deserve more than what I received the other day. That was unacceptable by all standards. No matter what has happened in the past.

As soon as I send this message I am going to block your number and in a few days, when the aftermath of my message has blown over, I will unblock your number in case you ever have an inclination to contact me.

January - April S, I am sorry you are so angry. I am sorry that you felt the need to say the things you said. I hope you soon come to realise that they were unwarranted and unnecessary. And if you don’t, I hope you find someone that can make you truly happy.

September - December S, I love you so much baby. You are my forever and always. I hope we find each other again soon. I miss you with everything that I am. There is a hole in my heart where you are missing. I think about you every day x

—  Text I wrote to my ex, S, and never sent.
URGENT PP3 PSA. PLEASE READ

Responding to @freedomseeker91 ’s incredibly well written post.

==================================

My friend, what you wrote was very well said. This is what needs to be spread! Thank you for taking your time to write it.

Yes I posted the pictures from the article - (you’d have come across them any way, I just sped up the process)- and I did so because I’d rather people have whatever reactions now than in December when their emotions will be all over the place. Yes I seemed upset when I posted the pictures, of course I was, but I had expected it and have accepted it. People need to see the reality of this, and not think they are entitled to a Bechloe ending because “they owe it to us”.

That’s simply not true. They don’t owe us anything. Although I would like an explanation from universal. I think we do deserve that at least.

We are not the only fandom that they shot to shit remember? Remember Jeca? I feel really bad for those fans. They get their happy ending, and then what? Nothing. So we’re not the only ones they kinda shat on.

But that’s not the point of this. We anticipated this for a while and yes it is hard, but we are a fandom… we are a family… we are a ship. And though people don’t get on board, the ship still sails… there may be icebergs in the way, sure, but we are not the Titanic. Why? We are made of TITANIUM. We will not go down.

I have repeated what I’m going to say, so many times. The cast. Are not. Responsible. Do not, I repeat NOT, harass them, threaten them or, as has been said, tell them you are boycotting it because you’re not happy. They have spent so much time and effort making this film, and so Bechloe may not happen, it sucks. Sure. But they tried their hardest with what they could! They cannot change the script, they can improv sure, but to an extent! Any more than that and they change the script. Which they’re not allowed… without permission anyway.

They have tried to make it as entertaining as they can. They aren’t making false promises, they are expressing wishes, if you may.

They support us, they know about us, and they won’t forget us. But it’s their movie too! It’s a film FOR. THE. BELLAS. Not Beca and Chloe. THE BELLAS. ALL OF THEM.

I will be going to support my girls because I am so proud of them. They’ve worked so hard and I will fucking praise them no matter the outcome, because they deserve no less.

Let me tell you something, i will give anyone who threatens the cast and crew a piece of my mind because you are not only giving yourself a bad name, but this fandom and everything we believe in. There are other fandoms that don’t get their way; Jeca, Staubrey, Steca, Mitchsen, Chaubrey… you think they’re happy? No, and I know for a fact that those fandoms are not happy with the way some of us have “shown support”, and I am inclined to agree.

I will not stand by and make our cast and crew resent their own fans.

Please listen to my words, (including those of @freedomseeker91 , @redlance @aliciameade , @asweetmelodytricklingintoyourear ) just read them and think about them and what they are trying to make you see that what you are doing is wrong.

I will not hesitate to chew anyone out for their disrespectful comments and posts and tweets to the cast and crew.

Please spread this and any other post like this.