i've got more friends than that

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

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

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

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

she told me, once. 

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned close - the scent of polished leather, and sage hitting her - his lips whisper soft against her brow as he kissed her. 

“Indess,” Zevran murmured, her heart breaking for him. She had known from his glances, the way he would cut across the battlefield to support her, that he thought of her more than a friend. The fact that he still cherished her, knowing she loved another - it felt like she had betrayed him, betrayed his kindness. 

“No matter the decision you make, people will understand.” He pulled back briefly, smiling at her sadly, as if he already knew the answer to his unasked question. “But Antiva is beautiful this time of year. The sea glitters as you walk down the harbour, rain and mud are but a thought, unlike Ferelden." 

There was a wistful tone to his words, the rogue drawing in a deep breath, homesickness hitting him. It always did when he spoke of Antiva. It was hard not to cry at his gentleness, at the calloused touch of his hand on her cheek, fingers stained with betrayal and death, but there was a softness to them - the caress of a lover. 

Perhaps a small bit of her did love him, in some strange, forgotten way. Alistair had claimed her heart, but Zevran made her very soul catch alight. 

"You have sacrificed enough for this world. Come home with me.”

Complete credit to @warsonghold for the stunning snippet! 

Lionhearted - Part 1 - Nessian fic

Summary: Modern AU - Nesta and Cassian run into each other frequently due to her sister’s engagement to his best friend, and the encounters never go the way either of them want. Tension boils over at the rehearsal dinner and then the next day at the wedding, where they say and do things they can’t take back.

Notes: Thanks to @blxckbeak and @acourtofstarsanddreams for talking to me about this fic! More specifically, about Nesta. Also I want to tag @christina-dh because she asked for me to tag her in a certain type of fic if I wrote it… which, the thing doesn’t happen until the second part, but I don’t want to spoil it. :) And I hope the anon who sent me this prompt also enjoys it! (The prompt was “the hills are alive with the sound of bullshit”.)

I’ve never written a modern AU, plus it’s nessian, so… let me know what you think!

AO3 linkage


Lionhearted (Part 1)

The evening before Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, Nesta prepared for the rehearsal dinner by getting a drink alone. The bar of the hotel had seemed like as good a place as any for an over-priced gin and tonic, especially if it meant she didn’t have to wander alone down the sidewalk and be subjected to the inevitable leering of men who hung out on the city street corners at all hours of the day. She could play nice and support her sister, but she knew she needed something extra to smooth her sharper edges before she showed up at the restaurant. Edges that would inevitably come up against a certain infuriating best man. And combined with the fact that her father would be there… yes, she definitely needed this drink.

Sipping from her glass slowly, she listened to the hum of quiet conversation just outside the bar in the cavernous lobby of her hotel, to the first tentative sounds coming from the instruments of the jazz band that was setting up for the evening. She had chosen a hotel where few of the other guests were staying, a decision that she had explained to her sisters as the result of poor last-minute planning, but really had more to do with not wanting to be surrounded by the sycophants who clamored for her future brother-in-law’s attention. The kind of power that Rhysand’s family wielded would ensure security for her sister - for all of them, really - but Nesta had no intention of being caught up with his crowd.

She was seated at the end of the bar, close to where the bartender was cleaning glasses. There was no use in sitting too far away from the man with the bottle, she figured. Nesta was sure that no one she knew would show up here, at a generic hotel bar. Among the many privileges of being on her own was the fact that she could pretend to be ignorant of the group’s plans of where to meet, when, to think about having to please everyone else first. She was responsible for and answered to no one but herself.

As she drank, she thought about Feyre and Elain, the recent changes to their lives that had them seeing a bit more eye-to-eye. A week ago she had talked to Feyre alone, for the first time in ages. The strain between them had become less and less, lately; in fact, it had been the first time that Nesta had spoken frankly to her sister about their mother, their father, the way that Feyre had had to take responsibility of the household when they were teens. Nesta and Elain had left as soon as they could, Elain moving in with her now-former fiancé as soon as she had graduated college and Nesta just… moving on.

Nesta had told herself that their father, if left to his own devices long enough, would figure out that he was needed. That maybe one day he would get his act together and take care of her younger sisters. By leaving the moment she turned 18, she thought she was washing her hands of her responsibility towards them, forcing him to take it on himself. That didn’t happen, though, and she watched from afar as Feyre struggled to pick up the slack at far too young an age.

She told herself that the anger she reserved was for him, but it had a habit of being aimed at the wrong people.

When she had met Feyre for lunch, Nesta hadn’t expected to rehash the past. But over salads and microbrews, the two had come to a sort of… détente, if not outright understanding. Nesta knew her youngest sister would be fine, had found a life worth living, whether she had Rhys or not. And Feyre knew that Nesta had done what she felt necessary at the time, though it had come from a resentful, scornful place. Growing older had the effect of putting their childhood in perspective, and they were both ready to put aside animosity.

Nesta had asked about Rhysand, about how Feyre had met him - there was an ex, someone Rhys knew, who had had a hard time letting go. Nesta had been… displeased to find that her sister had needed help in that way. That she had experienced something like this without reaching to her sisters for help. Not that she could blame her little sister. But if this Rhys was everything that Feyre claimed, then she could be happy for her. She would give him a chance. Which was why she had flown out here and had even helped her sister with some of the wedding planning.

Checking her phone for the time, Nesta saw that she had planned perfectly. She had enough time for a second drink before leaving for the dinner at a new Italian place that Mor had clued Feyre in on, the kind of place where they cured their own meat. Finishing the last sip of her drink, Nesta asked for another and was waiting patiently when a voice came from behind her, smooth and taunting.

“Nesta, sweetheart.”

Her shoulders stiffened and she closed her eyes, cursing under her breath. Shit shit shit… Of all the hotels in the city, of all the bars… Turning her head while keeping her body facing the bar, she answered him.


Keep reading

too gay and too tired for this

This has got to be one of my favorite Eren and Armin scenes

Armin has never had friends before, all his life he’s been basically bullied and beat up for being weak. Armin’s been alone for a majority of his life, he didn’t even have his parents, all he had was his grandpa. Now here comes Eren, someone who simply just doesn’t like anyone, he doesn’t feel the need to have friends. Then he meets Armin, who doesn’t seem to be anything like Eren’s rash, temperamental and strong self.

 But then he sees something in Armin, he sees something different in him, in fact there’s a certain admiration in his eyes when Armin gives his answer for not running away. Eren actually wants to be friends with this Armin. And here’s Armin, who’s basically been alone all his life, wallowing in loneliness and self-doubt and he meets someone who wants to be friends with him. Eren is the first person to see Armin for who he really is.

I feel like this scene set something so wonderful between these two, it’s really no wonder there are rumors of them being too close or how they’re always concerned about each other. They are each other’s first friendship.

Unconditional Positive Regard

This may not get typed right as I am currently being aggressively loved by a cat, but it is time for the quarterly unsolicited advice:

If any of your friends make you feel bad about yourself more often than they make you feel good

Don’t chalk it up to you being too sensitive
And don’t let them chalk it up to that either

Friends can be gaslighters too

And your friendships are supposed to lift you so high you feel like you can take on all the trauma and stress the world is dealing out to you

What they aren’t supposed to do is make you feel heavier, misunderstood, or disliked

There’s this thing you may know about called unconditional positive regard. Teachers are taught it. Therapists are taught it. Everyone should learn it. If you aren’t being treated with it the majority of the time in the context of any close relationship, don’t torture yourself by staying.

And if you yourself aren’t treating friends/family members/partners you say you love with unconditional positive regard, work on reframing the negative. You will feel fuller for doing so.

“The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved, sometimes rather in spite of ourselves.” – Victor Hugo

@yharnamesque replied to your post: “friend: [has no issues talking about their oc/canon ships, eagerly…”


I CA N T ITS SO tERRIFYING TO ME, LIKE EVERY TIME I TRY TO I START PANICKING and livvy has explained my behavior to me before BUT IM STILL SO, WORRIED?? I get so SCAREd, it took forever to be ok talking about my characters but gOD FORBID I RECOGNIZE THEM IN INTIMATE RELATIONSHIPS, it takes me forever just to talk to friends about them on discord i jUST WANT to BE FR E E,,

@irithyllians replied to your post: “friend: [has no issues talking about their oc/canon ships, eagerly…”


THANK GOD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH THIS ISSUE, you have no idea how  much it means to hear

bexwhite  asked:

april my loveeee 💖 i just saw the ask that says "mostly people who befriends with antis, slowly listen to their reason to hate robert", and i wanted to clarify to that person that i have no intentions to "convert" any of my friends into antis lmao, i just felt a bit uncomfortable with that implication. mutual respect is all that's needed. thank u for always sticking up for me btw, i love u more than words can say 💕

Awe Ceci! You know I’ve always got your back. I’m sorry you felt uncomfortable. I really try to avoid the us and them mentality. It’s not what I’m about and not what I want my blog to be about. I love my fave and you don’t like him. You love your fave and I don’t like her. But we love each other and we respect each other and that’s all that matters. Ilysm! ❤


y’all sent me stuff. some of it got a little weird.

reblog if you want me to check out/follow your blog! <3

I’m sure everyone is pretty tired of me constantly crying about Leonard Nimoy because everyone on my dash seems to be so much more chill about this than I am, but like, a lot of my close friends know how much Star Trek means to me. I really might not be the person I am today if it wasn’t for Star Trek, and I know our world as it is today wouldn’t be the same without Star Trek!! That show inspired so many people to become doctors, scientists, explorers, thinkers and artists, and Leonard Nimoy was such a central part of the important piece of history that was the original series.

Leonard was such a friendly, welcoming, compassionate and warm guy and whenever someone so good passes away it’s heartbreaking because there are so few people like that out there, they come along only once every few centuries, don’t they? Mr. Nimoy, I’m so glad that I got to be on the Earth on the same time as you for a while. I’m so glad I got to meet you, really briefly, and while I’m sure I was just one of countless fans, it mattered so much to me. You changed my life and so many others’, and your passion for your art and the people around you left such a big impact, you could never be forgotten. 

I love it when people post about him ‘returning to the stars’, because we’re all stardust aren’t we, and I’m sure he’d be content with that.