not at all what i intended to write actually

Glitter Ball

I’ve been seeing some discussion in past few days about how unrealistic it is that Bitty doesn’t hang out with other queer kids at Samwell, which is a valid point, and it reminded me I had a fic languishing in my drafts folder that involved an expanded look at the LGBTQIA group on campus, so I figured maybe the time had come to post it. It’s more about Dex than Bitty, because I started it as a response to the “Dex is homophobic” discourse, so this is from a “Dex has never been straight, he just doesn’t think it’s any of your business” perspective.

(It’s the beginning of a longer fic called “I Abhor You/I Adore You” that’s kind of an exercise in filling in all the gaps between the Nurseydex tweets and fleshing out the non-hockey parts of Samwell, but who knows if I’ll ever finish it.)

~4.5k, pre-slash Nurseydex, mostly Dex POV, guest appearances by Bitty, Holster, and a few OCs from the LGBTQIA group. Location of the IT helpdesk across the hall from the resource center entirely stolen from my own tiny liberal arts school, “the little gay college in the middle of Iowa.”

Read it on AO3 (now with the second chapter as well).


First year, first semester

Dex got a job with the helpdesk almost as soon as he got to campus. This wasn’t exactly normal for an unknown, untested, untried, and undeclared first year student, but he had references from his high school job and there was a constant shortage of people who actually knew how to do anything with hardware. Which, of course, was the thing most of the professors actually needed help with. They weren’t actually receiving a lot of emergency Python coding calls; they needed someone who could “make the goddamn printer talk to the computer” without pissing anyone off by being too condescending.

He enjoyed it; compared to having to do the same thing in a retail environment, this was downright relaxing, and he at least had some confidence the people he was helping weren’t complete idiots. He could even leave behind a Post-It of step-by-step instructions of how to fix the problem themselves next time and have it be followed at least 50% of the time! Not to mention his work-study hours as a student athlete were actually capped and enforced so he wouldn’t work himself to death. So relaxing when compared to high school, when he’d had to juggle IT work, lobster fishing, hockey, and grades good enough to get some kind of scholarship.

Since he’d gotten to campus early to start pre-season practice with the hockey team, he’d been able to establish a work routine before adding in classes, which had been helpful. The CS classes at Samwell were certainly more demanding, but that was why he was here, wasn’t it? All in all, he was pretty satisfied with how things were shaping up. (Now if only his d-partner weren’t such an entitled brat…)

Once the other students got back to campus, it became clear the helpdesk office wasn’t the only thing housed in the weird little building at the edge of campus. He was just ending a shift when a girl stuck her head in the door. “Would it be possible to get some quick help from anybody? It’s just across the hall.”

“I can do it,” Dex said. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

“Thank you!” She led the way into what appeared to be an all-purpose meeting room. The door now had a handmade rainbow sign taped to it, proclaiming it the Stonewall Resource Center. “We’re having our first meeting of the year tonight, and of course the one person who remembers how to work the projector is on study abroad this semester.”

“No problem. You hooking it up to a laptop?”

“Yeah.”

Dex walked over to the AV podium at the front of the room and fished out the giant cluster of cables and dongles. “Hopefully one of these will work, but we have adapters in the office for just about anything. Bring it over.” A minute or so later, he had everything working.

“Thank you so much!”

“Sure. I mean, it’s my job anyway.”

“Do I need to file a ticket or something?”

“Eh, whatever.”

“Um, you’re welcome to stay for the meeting if you want…”

“What’s it for? I mean, I can guess, but your sign wasn’t even up when I came in at the beginning of my shift, so, you know.”

“Yeah, basically it’s just a beginning of the year informational meeting for students about LGBTQIA resources on campus and a way to get those of us who are returning students to get started organizing other events. So maybe not super interesting.”

“No, it sounds like good information to have. I’ll stick around.”

She smiled at him. “Great! I’m Sam.”

“Will. Or Dex. I answer to either.”

“Nice to meet you.”

***

“So do you think you’ll come back?” Sam asked after the meeting was over. Dex had stayed to help her turn off the projector and leave a sticky note with the steps written down. (He was thinking about getting a set custom-printed with “Helping You Help Yourself!” across the bottom, though he suspected his boss would find this too snarky.)

“Probably not. I mean, not to regular meetings or anything—you can totally ask me for help anytime! I’m just kind of… past the place where I need this kind of group? And I’ve got hockey practice and CS classes that are kind of the point of my being here, so they take priority, you know?”

“Sure thing.”

“But you know where to find me! Seriously, I’m always happy to help. It looks like a great group. But I know I can’t commit to anything.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around then, yeah? Oh, hey, if you have any time on Friday, you should come to the softball game. We’re gonna slay.”

Dex grinned and offered his fist for a bump of solidarity. “You’ll have to come to a hockey game once the season starts.”

“Definitely.”

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Sometimes, people ask Merlin how long he and Arthur have been dating.
“Twenty one years,” he’d tell them.
“Wow,” they’d say, “that’s a really long time.”
Merlin just nods.
Then there’s the inevitable silence as they do some frantic calculations.
“Wait- how old are you?”
Merlin just goes back to his food.
“But - that means you started dating when you – you couldn’t have been older than, what?”
“Three,” Arthur says. Usually at his point in the conversation he’d start stealing Merlin’s fries. Merlin would let him, but glare a lot, because that’s what Merlin does. “We got married behind the church.”
“Wait, hold on, you’re married?”
“Nah,” Merlin says, “I don’t think those kinds of marriages are valid.”
“Those kinds?”
“You know, with plastic rings, without witnesses, that stuff. Also, we weren’t of legal age, obviously.”
“We were three,” Arthur repeats, “and Merlin was wearing half a chocolate cake.”
“Was not. And if you hadn’t stolen my plate that wouldn’t–”
“But,” they’d say, a little desperate now, “I know, that’s a childhood thing, but that’s not actual dating. I mean, you guys had other relationships, right?”
Merlin stares, then. “No, why would I?”
Arthur always gets a bit angry at this part. “Merlin was my boyfriend from that day on. What, you think my ceremony was lacking somehow?”
“Wait no, I didn’t mean -”
“Because I got him flowers-”
“Dandelions, he got me dandelion, also roses, they pricked him, he still has a scar there-”
“And there was music-”
“Mum was making more cake, she always sings then-”
“And the cake, obviously.”
“Obviously,” their listener echoes. “And you never broke up? Dated someone else? Had crushes on other people?”
They both just shake their heads. Merlin spies Arthur’s abandoned hot cocoa. It has marshmallows on. Arthur, the heathen, doesn’t even like marshmallows.
“You’re not drinking that, are you?” He’s already grabbing it as he says it.
“Sure, go ahead, take everything I own, strip me down to my last shirt.”
Merlin smirks. “I intend to.”
At this point, the listener is usually defeated by their long, lingering looks and makes a run for it before they can witness some kissing. Or worse.
They probably didn’t get it, but it’s fine. After all, no one but Merlin and Arthur need to.

Dead Girl Walking

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut, unprotected sex, language, violence, domestic dispute, destruction of personal property, dom!Luci,   

A/N: Anonymous requested: The reader is in the bunker, fighting with one of the angels, preferably Luci or Balthazar - yelling and throwing things when their anger turns to passion and they start having violent sex, leaving holes in the walls and the books in the library scattered to the floor, chairs overturned, so the boys later is all “What the hell happened to our home?”

Thank you for the request, anon <3 I loved writing this!

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now that I’ve gotten this idea in mind, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep for the whole week. I need ch144 because I’m starting to think too much.

Ishida is insane okay, we all know that so since this idea is going to haunt me until i get to read ch144, i gotta share and write it down: what if

WHAT IF

what if Ishida intends on broadening the stage for an eventual third part of TG:

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MESSAGE DELIVERED | interim 1

→ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader / Namjoon x Reader
→ Genre: fluff, smut, angst, humor
→ Words: 2,659
→ Rated: NC-17
→ Warnings: language, sort of unintentional sexual innuendos
→ Summary: A text message sent to the wrong number turns into a long lasting affair between two people completely opposite one another.
→ Note: Ok, so the interim parts are gonna be from Jungkook’s POV (to show how intertwined their lives are without them knowing) and I hope you remember the last paragraphs from the first part since they kind of hold significance in an early conversation in this one lol. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy! :) 

(Also, these parts aren’t that important really (but this one is). They’re mostly because I love to write from everyone’s POV to make things more complicated lmao I’m sorry)

Parts: 01 : interim : 02 : coming soon

cr.


  • jungkook pov

10:11pm
Quick question
Is it socially acceptable to just get up and leave a discussion?
Maybe punch someone on the way out?

It takes a little bit of courage to send it, but when he finally lets his thumb press the send button and the message flies away with a sort of satisfying whoosh, he smiles and pushes it down the pocket of his tight jeans. He thinks it’s a little ridiculous, but it feels nice to message her again. It’s been three days after all.

Keep reading

On Reading Sherlock’s Face

I’m not a fan of metas based on reading faces. I’ve seen other people do it well, but I’ve never liked actually basing conclusions off expressions alone. Everything exists in context, but especially facial expressions. They’re also the easiest thing to project onto– you can read a lot of things into a facial expression, and I’m very wary of that sort of thing in analysis. I am particularly wary when shippers do it and/or there’s an agenda involved (and usually there is an agenda involved, in fandom). My point: I don’t really do facial analysis if I can help it, and certainly not alone. But there’s definitely a point in TFP where the show kinda begs you to look at Sherlock’s face, and I can’t deny it’s interesting.

In a general sense, I’m also kinda going through the things that seem off or are interesting in Series 4 (in no particular order), and of course, I haven’t addressed this yet:

I remember being struck by this when I saw it in the trailer, and analyzing it a bit. It was obvious to me it wasn’t to John, because John is behind Sherlock. In thinking about it before I knew the context, I thought it was weird, because Sherlock looked so unhappy. His whole expression is… tense, disturbed at something. It’s not the kind of face (or set-up) one associates with an ‘I love you’, so I thought something rather dark must be going on.

Now, I agree with the analysis that this isn’t Sherlock’s ‘lying face’, or the over-the-top acting Sherlock was doing with Janine in HLV. This is definitely different. But the only two options aren’t ‘he’s lying’ vs ‘he’s just realized he means it’. The difference between TFP and HLV is context: in HLV, Sherlock went on to dismiss John’s horror at his callousness, and say love was ‘human error’. In TFP, Sherlock no longer thinks so. That is the point.

A lot of people (no matter what they ship) don’t understand this scene– they either seem to think it’s gratuitous emotional torture, bad Molly characterization (because she’s apparently not gotten over her feelings, though as I’ve said, there’s no reason to think she had), or– I suppose– there to show us that Sherlock just loves Molly back, all appearances to the contrary. Of course, many fans essentially believe there doesn’t really need to be a reason for that last option, particularly seeing as it’s about a heterosexual couple, so I’ll just say that no, there actually does need to be a reason, not to mention build-up. Besides, if Sherlock simply… meant it, that would kill the drama (and the intended darkness) of the scene. In general, no matter what Sherlock’s face says, the narrative has to support it or it makes no sense and constitutes bad writing. But for what it’s worth, his face doesn’t really say ‘I love you’. He looks sad and disturbed, but I do believe he also looks like he’s realizing something on some level. It’s a form of his serious deduction face, except we don’t get as much of an inward look as we did the last time this happened, during the wedding speech in TSoT (as I once wrote extensively about).

So what is Sherlock realizing, in context?

That question is closely tied to asking why that scene is there. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of Johnlock shippers sort of riff on the fact that the deduction of the person meant for the casket could have been about John– he too is short and practical, and he loves Sherlock! But I think bringing John into it is a derailment. It’s not about John, but it’s not about Molly, either, not directly. Like I said in my John analysis in TLD, it’s not about John ‘cause it’s about Sherlock. Obviously, this applies to this scene: we’re focused on Sherlock’s face here, full screen. That certainly suggests that we’re meant to be focusing on him (and his arc).

And yes, that’s what I think it’s about. I realize most people who’re not Johnlockers seem not to care that there’s an arc, but even though we’ve been wrong about various things, the one thing I’ve been right about is the importance of Sherlock’s arc. Moffat has explicitly referred to it and its relevance to TFP, too. This is Sherlock’s test, his final test (as administered by Eurus, the embodiment of the ‘high-functioning sociopath’ persona). The Final Problem is becoming human.

So what does that have to do with Molly? He’s already told Eurus that he realizes his life is not his own: “Your own death is something that happens to everybody else.” So he’s learned the lesson of Reichenbach. The ‘human error’ thing is about people like Janine and Molly though, in the show. He doesn’t really have a problem accepting his feelings about John (however you want to read them); as soon as he realized them, around TEH and TSoT, he accepted them. John is always the exception. It’s everyone else’s feelings– and feeling in general– that Sherlock hasn’t taken seriously or accepted as valid, as important, as worth empathizing with. So this is the final step: he’d already felt bad for Molly in TEH, but he didn’t take her feelings fully seriously, because then there was Janine. Love was still ‘human error’… but then Sherlock kept making that error. You don’t have to read this romantically, though it’s certainly not been about Molly. He’s made the error about John, about Mary, and even about Eurus (in TLD). That’s what he was telling Mrs Hudson with ‘Norbury’. He knows that ‘human error’ is something he has to take into account. Heartbreak is something Sherlock is now very familiar with. He has to feel it, but he doesn’t have to fear it (as Moriarty said).

Sherlock fake-smiled when he proposed to Janine because he was dissociating, essentially. Here, he wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean he was confessing his love. It means he was fully feeling the awfulness  of what he was doing to Molly, and that he was aware he was using  his real feelings– because he really does care about her as a friend– to hurt her, essentially. This is the realization he started to have at the end of TAB, about how many women he’d hurt. This is the consequence: it hurts. It burns. It aches, being human. But it allows him to reach his sister, in the end, so the point is not about avoiding the pain but embracing it.

anonymous asked:

sorry, idk if you take prompts or not! you don't have to answer this immediately! fluffy au where lance and Keith start dating pre-Blades of Marmora, and Lance notices little things about Keith when they cuddle or do stuff together- Keith has sharp teeth, is unnaturally warm, has strangely good intuition, etc. Lance's suspicions of Keith (not exactly being human) grow further when they talk about their pasts with each other.

Hi there! And don’t be sorry! I generally don’t take prompts, since I’m writing way too many things at the moment (all my own fault ;D), but I have been known to jot down a quick blurb here and there …


Lance breathed in and out slowly before he approached Keith, sitting down next to him on the observation deck, turning to cross his legs so he could face him directly. He waited for Keith to look up from his tablet before speaking.

“So, I kinda need to ask you something, and you really don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable, or if you just don’t wanna talk about it, or —”

“You smell a little bit like cow,” Keith said, wrinkling his nose, setting his tablet aside on the armrest behind him. “Have you been hanging out with Kaltenecker?”

“Um, yes, and rude.” Lance stuck a leg out and jabbed at Keith’s thigh with his toes. Keith pinned that leg beneath his, smiling smugly. Lance let him have his moment and then reached out with his other leg, and somehow they ended up tangled; Keith was half on Lance’s thighs, half pinned between Lance and the back of the couch and this was actually pretty perfect. 

Lance stopped laughing long enough to press a quick kiss to Keith’s cheek, and while Keith was blushing — this was all still so new, so tentative — Lance blurted out, “So, um, I was wondering about your parents?”

Keith’s smile fell. Lance reached out with his arms, an embrace that was both loose, so he could escape if he wanted, and warm, because Keith ran pretty hot and that was part of why Lance was doing this.

“What about them?” Keith asked quietly, warily.

“Again, you don’t have to answer, it’s just that … Right, so you’re wicked fast at sparring? Like, way too fast. You’re shifty about that dagger you always have on you, and you have really good night vision? Again, like, way, way good. Also, you’re nice and warm, which is great, but also a tad more warm than …”

“Than …” Keith trailed off, and his expression was now somewhat challenging, and Lance knew that Keith wanted him to be the one to say it.

“A bit more warm than most … humans,” Lance finished, and then he swooped in and stole another kiss. “But, like, you’re pretty hot, so that would be a perfectly valid reason for that, for me, so if you wanna leave it at that …”

“I … don’t.” And Keith actually looked a little … relieved? Scared, frustrated, too, but mostly relieved. “I … my dad, he’s … he was … pretty normal. His family immigrated from Korea to Tennessee — no, Lance, stop, don’t you freaking —”

“But Keith, you’re the only ten I see!” Lance howled, unable to hold back even as Keith jabbed at him with an elbow. “Ow, no, don’t care, can’t stop, won’t stop!

“I hate you sometimes.” But he then leaned in and kissed the side of Lance’s neck, his cheeks glowing pink, and Lance felt his blood rush to his own face; he quieted down, encouraging Keith with a nod. 

“I … my mom had my eyes, I think, or I have hers. And she was fast — a wicked fast runner. She never really cared much about her appearance, except that she wore a ton of make-up, and she said she had a skin condition, and dad backed it up and … She wore hats. All the time. Or scarves or bandanas … And then one day she was gone … A few years later, dad was …”

Lance held his tongue, waited for Keith to finish — he’d known or suspected most of this, but his heart still broke hearing Keith say it aloud. An orphan. Passed around different homes, with people that liked him, people that tolerated him, people that were cruel and indifferent … But no one, no family, that loved him like they should, like he deserved.

“This dagger is … I don’t know much, but what I do know …” Keith managed to pull it out from wherever he hid it, and then he carefully unwrapped the binding. “This symbol was on Ulaz’s weapon.” He revealed the crest. “He said these are ceremonial weapons of the Blade of Marmora, and I’ve always had it, so …”

The dagger trembled a little in his grip. Lance wrapped his hand around Keith’s on the hilt. Those dark indigo eyes stared into his, and Lance smiled back, as openly and affectionately as he could. 

“So maybe you’ve got a Galra grandma or grandpa, huh? I mean, I assume you’re a quarter or less, based on genetics, since you, uh, don’t exactly look Galra. Except for the weird eyes — not yellow, but, ah, not exactly a human colour, either — and all that other stuff I’ve already mentioned, but did I mention that I find all of it cool? And I really appreciate how warm you are, like, wow, this Castle can get —”

“You … you really don’t care?” Keith blinked, those wonderful eyes widening. “You’re … you’re not freaking out or angry or scared or —”

“I’m kinda a little more blown away by the fact that you’re from Tennessee, actually.” Lance laughed when Keith nudged him again. “And I … really, really wanted you to tell me. Because I did sort of get an inkling that something was up, once we started doing this boyfriend thing and bonding and stuff.”

Keith methodically re-wrapped the dagger, put it back in its hidden spot, and then threw his arms around Lance’s shoulders, hugging him tightly enough that Lance felt tears spring into his eyes — because Keith had been scared, and now he wasn’t, and Lance felt like he wanted to spend all of his time making sure Keith was happy. Which was sort of scary in its own way.

“Thank you,” Keith whispered.

They sat like that for a bit, and then Lance pulled away, trying to wipe his tears discreetly. “Okay, but, um, really, I should be thanking you.”

Keith tilted his head in a gesture of curiosity. “Why?”

“Because …” Lance grinned wickedly. “Now that I know for sure, I can cross ‘make out with a hot alien’ off my bucket list.”

Keith tackled him to the floor and then there was yelling and an impromptu sparring match, and a broken Altean relic that they immediately accused each other of breaking and holy crap, Lance had a boyfriend from Tennessee, wasn’t that wild? he asked Keith, who laughed in his face and said, with a near perfect drawl, “Yer right — nothing stranger has ever happened to anyone ever.”

Lance had no idea what he was getting into with Keith, with Voltron, not really, but this kind of revelation only made him excited for what he would learn tomorrow. And the day after. And pretty much any day, all the days ever with Keith, his Tennessee-born, part-Galra space ranger partner.


Notes: And there it is, once again, way more fluffy than I intended … That was pretty fun to write, actually :D Thanks so much for the idea, dear, and for being so kind as to send it my way! *hugs* I hope this was okay :)

thank you

So back in April I never got the chance to celebrate my one year for this blog. There ain’t much to celebrate tho since this blog is trash and all I do is worship Wonho’s ass and talk about D 24/7 (I’m so sorry I’m shameless) but I really really wanted to make a post for all the amazing people I’ve met on here, and how much you all mean to me even though I never express any form of compassion or love and majority of the time mask it with insults hahaha

But to those who know me by now should know I do it because I like you and you have a special place in my hitlist ok

Before I start I just want to throw in how much I greatly appreciate everyone that follows my blog. I know I haven’t been active in so long and I haven’t posted a fic in ages and I’m so sorry for that. There’s been some little things here and there that have piled up and it’s taken a toll on me but hey, everyone has some rough bumps in the road and I know this and I know there will be better days, and it has gotten way better. 

For anyone that has dealt with any anxiety or depression or any sense of feeling as though it’s hopeless, I hope you know that you’re strong and you are important and here for a reason and somewhere out there, either near or far there is someone out there who wants you here and who also loves you for who you are. And if at any time you feel alone or find yourself in a tough situation, I want you to know you can always come and talk to me. And I’m not saying that just to say it, I seriously mean it. I do work and I do go to school so it may take some time for me to respond, but don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me. One thing I actually hoped for in this blog when I made it was to help people, because I know that some (but not all) people think of Tumblr as a safe haven, and I could say I made it myself for the sake of running away from my own problems.

And here I am now, drowning myself with pictures of hot kpop guys but also meeting probably the best people I couldn’t have possibly lived without. I know we’re online friends and don’t even know each other in real life, but just know that you’ve all made a huge impact on my life and I really thank you guys. There are people I haven’t talked to much or at all, but I hope at some point in our lives we can talk about something as small as what we had for lunch today or to how big we think Jungkook’s schlong is cuz come on I know we’re all wondering the same fucking thing and I need answers too girl and it could turn out to be a beautiful friendship

Anyways, thank you thank you THANK YOU all so much for following me, giving me a chance, liking my fics, sending a sweet ask, talking to me, thank you all so much. I appreciate every little thing I get on here and I just love everyone and hope you stick around while I’m still glorifying Wonho’s ass every day. 

I’m so sorry for already making it so long but it’s about to get way longer and personal so I’m just going to cut it here so the post won’t get so annoying on everyone’s dash lol

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anonymous asked:

i don't know if you've heard but vicky said it's entirely purposeful that thistleclaw is a pedophile in spottedleaf's heart and not just one of their usual dumb ignorant mistakes. pretty shocking imo, i can't believe they thought this was okay

Hello, Meepit!

Sadly, I get the impression that Erin Hunter, when they achieve something intentional, it is most typically ignorant, poorly handled, or loaded with unfortunate implications. And maybe they don’t intend to do this, and maybe they scramble to cover their backs because they didn’t intend to and now have their feet in their mouth. But it still stands that what they do and have done still has massive impact across a huge swathe of young readers. And when you make something like this “purposeful” and yet handle it in a blatantly atrocious way, there is no acceptable excuse.

Here is what Vicky has said:

Problems?

1. Ignorance

Honestly, Vicky, you have just written a children’s book that centers around child grooming, pedophillia, and has no adults stepping in to help and is full of abuse that has genuinely triggered many people due to how disturbingly accurate it gets at some points. You did not expect an outcry? You did not expect people to speak against this, to spread the word, to create PSA to warn people who might be hurt or triggered by this?

At this point, you should not be ignorant about this. You say this was intentional, and yet claim shock at the effect.

2. Thistleclaw being bad

Thistleclaw was supposed to be bad in Bluestar’s Prophecy. He never met the level you supposedly tried to paint him as during then. Now is not the time or place to ham-fistedly give him a reason he’s bad. This is ridiculous.

3. Spottedleaf’s retcon

Spottedleaf originally was a super talented kit with a huge love for and interest in healing. She then became a warrior apprentice who nonetheless retained a great love for healing and switched her training and everyone was happy. Now she was groomed and abused as a child, “fled” to the medicine cat position because of this, and goes on to have a romantic relationship with a cat young enough to be her own child– Firepaw.

Not to mention this is another huge strike against the medicine cat position.

4. Under the Rug

And then you finish off by gushing over the very fans you have hurt, frightened, triggered, and offended and do not fully address the actual issue and do not fully take responsibility for what your writing has caused and may be used for in the future.

This has reached a deeply disturbing level of ignorance, carelessness, and “it’s OK they’re just cats”/”it’s OK it’s just fantasy”. Your target audience must be considered. The meaning that people take out of your books– and the fact that the meaning taken may not at all be what you intended– must also be considered. None of this was considered by Erin Hunter or Harpercollins. And I doubt they will have any more consideration in the future, unless it is made blatantly clear to them that their sexist, ableist series has just skyrocketed further into a zone of absolute unacceptability.

anonymous asked:

What other Top Ten lists are you planning to write (if you are planning to write more!)?? They make me so happy, and once we really get into Victor's Suffering I know I'll be using them to remind me Victor has an actual future with Yuuri ahead of him T.T Plus the world building/character development is so much fun to read! LoVE your writing and I am out of my mind excited for Sunday!!!!

I am planning to write more :D I’ve had a lot of requests and I’m intending to do them all but it takes quite a long time to think up ideas and write them so they will be posted much slower than I answer normal asks. So far I have:

Top 10 Katsuki/Nikiforov Moments That Had Everyone Swooning/ Top 10 Viktuuri Posts that made the Fangirls Die from Nosebleeds/ Top ten Viktuuri PDA moments

10 texts/sexts 

top ten times yuuri katsuki was charming without him noticing

top ten times yuuri katsuki broke the internet

10 moments the world was certain yuri plisetsky was adopted by katsuki yuuri and viktor nikiforov

Top Ten Drunk Yuuri Moments

Top Ten Pranks in Yuuri’s and Phichit’s Prank War

Top Ten Fights between Viktor and Yuuri

Top ten times someone hit on an oblivious Yuuri Katsuki?

Top 10 surprise visits to each other while they’re living apart

top 10 vacation/travel stories

Ten times Yuuri ended up wearing Victors clothes (and one time Victor wore Yuuris)

Top 10 moments of Victor crying joy and happiness for Yuuri

Ten times Yuuri adorably fell asleep in inappropriate places.

top 10 reaction posts/revelations for the fans from Yuuri’s tell-all book 

Top ten memes inspired by Viktor “Extra” Nikiforov 


I also have requests to write a little snippet of the confession scene if the doping scandal had never happened and what would have happened if Yuuri had actually retired.

I will write all of these, it’ll just take me a little while to get through them all! 

[2017.07.07] JAPAN EXPO - Fullmetal Alchemist panel

Hello everyone ! (ノ^∇^)
(I doubt anyone would read these lines but anyway XD)

Here is the translation of the Fullmetal Alchemist movie panel that was held on the YUZU stage (Hall 4) at Japan Expo 18th Impact (Parc des Expositions, Paris-Nord Villepinte) !
The guests were Sori Fumihiko (director), Yamada Ryosuke (Edward Elric) and Honda Tsubasa (Winry Rockbell) !

Fullmetal Alchemist panel at Japan Expo (Paris)

***Credits of the pic to me


I ended up including some reports notes because I thought they were cute / important but if it’s really too confusing to read, just tell me so I’ll remove them and keep it simple.

I had the huge honor and chance to be there and had an amazing seat.
I’m so grateful despite all the complaints I’ve made (french side ? lol), and that is one of my best memory of my life ! (T_T) ♥

I hope you’ll enjoy it !
Just for this one PLEASE DON’T REPOST (only reblog) !!

Keep reading

hadas-the-unseelie  asked:

Hey tumblr mom, bit of a loaded question here, but what are your thoughts on minors consuming and making erotica, especially within fandom?

When I was 14 I had three separate dummy email accounts so I could access NSFW 18+ fanzines. I was a determined little shit. I never published anything because I was too insecure, but I was writing it in my own time. Even if I didn’t quite know how things worked, I was interested in exploring various different things, from as many safe aspects as possible, and fanfic was a safe way of doing that for me. 

I realize now I was writing what I wanted my first sexual experiences to be, as opposed to what they actually were. The things my teenage brain penned were remarkably different.. It was a vital part of escape from my then boyfriend(s) who were all, with hindsight, human dumpster fires.

While I don’t condone minors interacting in spaces not specifically intended for them (ie when something is clearly labelled 18+) I think no matter what we do, there will always be people who are under the age of 18, who engage in this kind of media. Just like how there will always be teenagers who engage in sexual activities no matter how hard the purity brigade pushes those rings. All we can hope for in that regard is to have a well educated youth with ready access to contraception and health screening. (It’s such a culture shock living here compared to back home, it really is. I used to walk into the family planning clinic, some days before school and I mean high school, and they were, well, not enthused that I was having sex at the age that I was, but they were happy to help me stay protected and safe and kept me well informed.)

The problems arise when you have interaction between them and adults. For me that was always my biggest issue. I was on those fansites to explore my own thoughts and feelings regarding XYZ in a safe( r) manner than what was available to me offline. And while I didn’t mind cultivating friendships with some people, especially if I liked their writing, it was when those same adults treated me as an adult, even after I admitted to being a minor, that was when I felt unsafe. At the time I put it down to “well I joined this group, this is on me” but with the hindsight of an adult now, no. If you find out someone in your fangroup is a minor, you modify your behavior. You don’t engage in the same way you would another adult. Which is my main concern for minors engaging in adult spheres of fandom.

So to answer what is an extremely difficult question: I don’t really know. I know it happens and it will happen regardless, my own misspent youth is testament to that. But I think how we handle it is what matters. Adult creators in fandom who are creating erotica, should be tagging their content as such. It needs to be obvious, and it needs to be made very clear that the content is aimed with only adults in mind. If a minor still chooses to click on it…well, not much you can do about that.

This isn’t a blanket statement or like, a hard and fast rule, it’s just me reminiscing on my own personal experiences on growing up in fandom. I do sometimes wonder if Ao3 should have an 18+ filter, but again I am not sure how you would effectively regulate that. And I’m sure brighter minds than mine have tried.

Preparations (Vows #1)

The next Nessian (finally!)  Previous Chapter is here.  Master list of all my fanfic is here.  Hope you all enjoy this one!  Nearly everyone makes an appearance.  It was supposed to be the last chapter but it got waaay too long (this half is over 5k words) so I split it.


Nesta tapped her pen against the paper.  “I don’t see why I have to do this,” she said flatly.

Feyre sighed, already exasperated, and set her teacup down with a click.  “You’re the one who burst in here this afternoon and told me you had to get married as soon as possible.  Making a list of what you need to get done is the bare minimum if you really expect to be ready in two weeks.”

“Okay, fine,” Nesta grumbled.  She contemplated just giving up on the whole thing, shredding the papers she’d been writing on, and telling Cassian they should just run away, but she supposed now her sister knew that option was done for.  “So far we’ve got: location to figure out, catering, dress -”

“Just ask Rhys about the dress,” Feyre cut in, “he probably already has something.”  

“Why would he have a dress for me?”  Nesta asked, a bit suspiciously.  The tendency of everyone in the Inner Circle to be constantly in everybody else’s business had not grown on her with exposure.

“Well, it’s been weeks since you announced you planned to get married,” Feyre said, like that was a normal explanation.  Evidently Nesta should automatically expect her brother-in-law to produce a wedding dress for her, just like that.

Nesta sat back in her chair and looked at her sister through narrowed eyes.  “What is it with Rhys and clothes?  Where does he get them all?”

Feyre just shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never asked.  His taste is better than mine anyway.”

An image of her sister’s tall, elegant mate sitting in a private room somewhere sewing furiously popped into Nesta’s mind, and she snorted.  Her sister looked at her in some confusion and she just waved her hand in dismissal.  “Should I cross ‘dress’ off then?”

“No, let’s make sure I’m right first.  And that you like it.  He’ll be here any minute anyway for your session.”  Ugh, magic lessons.  She felt awkward enough with Amren, having Rhys staring at her too didn’t really sound appealing, but she did want to start understanding what she could - and should - do with the fact that she now could hear everybody’s life force.  Certainly before she killed someone by mistake.  Feyre went on.  “We don’t need to worry about flowers, Elain will take care of that.  And I bet Mor has some ideas about catering.  Do you want to use the priestess Elain and Lucien had?”

“Is that the same one you used?”

“Yes.”

“Might as well be consistent then.”  Nesta wrote down ‘Priestess’ with a small arrow that led to ‘whoever Feyre says.’  She tapped the pen against her teeth.  “What else is there?”

“Do you have a guest list yet?”  Nesta most certainly did; she hid her grin as she slid it over to her sister, who read it out loud.  “‘Feyre, Elain, Rhys, The Bastard,’ really, Nesta, is that necessary? ‘Azriel, Amren, Mor,’ all plus one, ‘Nuala, Cerridwen,’ oh good, I’m glad you’re inviting them, ‘Clotho and the rest of the librarians…’”  She looked up and smiled.  “What a great idea.”  Nesta just shrugged, a little embarrassed.  “Who’s ‘Tamirah’ and why is her name surrounded by little hearts?’”

“Oh, that’s just a special one for Cassian,” Nesta replied with a bit of an evil grin.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”  

“And ‘Willow.’  You’re inviting your cat?”

“Of course.  She’s part of the family.”

Shaking her head, Feyre grabbed the to-do list Nesta was now doodling on and scanned the sheet.  “What do you want to do about invitations?”

Nesta made a face.  “Do you really think we need them?  It’s mostly just the family anyway.”

Feyre looked rather shocked.  “Of course you need invitations!  Cerridwen did them for Elain’s wedding, I’m sure she’d be happy to do yours.  And it’s not like we need one for Willow.”  She chuckled.

“Why doesn’t Willow get one if everyone else does?” Nesta asked, deadpan.

“Does she really need one?  She can’t read.”

“Probably not, but it seems rude to exclude her if we do them for everyone else.”  Nesta stole her paper back and noted ‘Cerridwen’ next to ‘Invitations.’  

“Oh, and you’ll need to write your vows.”

Nesta’s stomach dropped.  She had never considered that; never thought about baring her soul in front of all those people, even if it was mostly just family.  “Write my…don’t the High Fae have some sort of set ceremony?  I thought I was just going to have to say, ‘I do’ or something.”

Her sister laughed.  “Didn’t you notice that Elain and Lucien had written their vows?”

“Well, yes, but that’s Elain and Lucien, they have no issue with being all, I don’t know, verbal.  They also had about a thousand people at their ceremony.  I thought I could get out of it.”  She thought for a moment; Elain’s was the only Fae ceremony she had been to.  “Did you write your own vows?”

She didn’t understand the expression that crossed Feyre’s face at what was intended to be an innocent question.  It looked almost like guilt.  “We didn’t have time to write anything, actually.  Since we did it so fast,  we just kind of said what was in our hearts at the moment.  I honestly don’t even remember what we said.”

Nesta pondered that.  While there was something appealing about sneaking out in the middle of the night and spontaneously getting married, or mated, or whatever you wanted to call it, she didn’t want to not be able to remember it.  She didn’t want the handful of people she loved to not be a part of it.  “What would you write if you had to do it over again?”

Feyre’s voice was hesitant, contemplative.  “I think I’d want to tell the story of how I came to love him.  Not so much the mating bond - as deep as it is, I think that’s more biological than anything.  But how he kept me from breaking and taught me and brought me out of the despair I had fallen into.  How he always had so much faith in me, and how he always just knew me.  Knew what I needed, even if it wasn’t what I wanted.  Does that make sense?”  

Nesta nodded thoughtfully.  Grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, she began to write.  Feyre poured herself a fresh cup of mint tea and sipped while she waited.  When she was nearly down to the dregs, her sister passed the paper to her then watched her, expressionless, while she read it.  Feyre looked up.  “This is beautiful,” she said softly.  “It’s perfect.”  Nesta took the paper and tucked it away.  Before they could return to their planning, Rhys and Amren appeared.

“What’s all this?” Amren asked, looking at the scattered papers.

“Oh, we’re just planning Nesta and Cassian’s wedding,” Feyre said breezily.  “We’ve got about two weeks.”

Rhys whistled.  “Looks like magic training is going to wait a bit.  We’ve got more important work to do.”  The three females looked at him expectantly.  He grinned.  “Want to see the dresses I picked out?”

Amren rolled her eyes.  “If you are all going to be gushing over wedding dresses, I’m going to go to Summer Court.  See you in a couple of weeks.”  She winnowed away in the middle of Nesta’s protest.  Rhys just shrugged, looking bemusedly at the spot she had just vacated.

“I was still planning on doing some training, but I guess that gives us a little more flexibility.  Come on, let’s go upstairs.”  The sisters followed him into Nesta’s old room, where he pulled three different dresses from a pocket realm and hung them on the armoire door.  All three were stunning, but Nesta only had eyes for the one on the left.  

“That’s it,” she said, pointing.  He handed it to her and she stalked towards the bathing room, Nuala appearing out of nowhere to assist her.  Feyre looked at her mate.

“That was easy,” she said.  

“She’s easy to select for,” he said.  “She always favors the more simple, elegant styles.”

“You knew she was going to pick that one?”  He nodded and Feyre surveyed the other two.  “Well, they’re all gorgeous, but I think it’s the one I would’ve chosen for her too.”

Mor burst through the door just as Nesta emerged from the bathing room in her regular clothes.  “Hey, bitch, when were you going to tell me you’re planning your wedding?”

Nesta blinked.  “Was I supposed to tell you before I told my sisters?”

“Of course,” Mor said, breezing past her cousin and Feyre to flop on the bed.  “I’m the party planner extraordinaire around here.”

Giving a small mocking bow, Nesta replied, “My apologies, I did not know that was one of your formal titles.  I hereby appoint you queen of the catering.  May you prosper.”

Mor returned the bow as best she could from the bed, with a flourish of her hand.  “I shall not disappoint.”

Feyre broke in before the verbal sparring could come to a head.  “Where’s the dress?  Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Wait, I missed the dress?” Mor interjected.

“Then can’t we see it?” Feyre asked almost simultaneously.

“No.”  Nesta could tell Feyre was biting her cheek to keep from snapping at her, and tried hard to not snap her response, though she hated having to defend herself about it.  “Half the people invited are in this room right now.  The dress fits, it’s exactly what I want, and you’ll see it in two weeks.  And don’t you dare use your Daemati powers on me.  Or Nuala.”

Feyre and Mor both turned to Rhys, who had been watching the three females with some amusement.  He shoved his hands in his pockets with his usual grace.  “It’s up to Nesta.  I’m staying out of it.”

“Ugh, what good is being High Lady if I can’t even make my own sister show me how she looks in her wedding dress?” Feyre asked no one in particular.

*****

Cassian was sitting in the family library in the House of Wind, thinking, a blank pad of paper and a pen on the low table in front of him.  There was so much he wanted to say to Nesta when they bound themselves to each other in just one short week, but he could not for the life of him figure out how.  He had cut his training session with Brisa short, sending her to spar with Sabine and Az, while he had flown here to do - exactly nothing.  He growled at the paper, as if he could somehow intimidate it into writing his vows for him.  

The door swung open and Lucien walked in.  He and Elain had returned from the Dawn Court late the night before.  “This is…the exact last place I would expect to find you,” Lucien said by way of greeting.  Cassian couldn’t even find a snappy retort.  Damnit.  He rubbed his face with his hands, then let them drop into his lap.  “Why does it seem like every time I see you, something is always bothering you?”

“Because every time you see me, you’re in the room.  It’s a paradox.”  There, at least he was able to come up with something.

“My my, another big word.  Though I suppose I set myself up for that one.”  He studied the empty paper, russet eye narrowing.  “Let me guess, you’re working on a dissertation on the usefulness of wings.”

Cassian huffed what might have been a laugh.  “I wish, I’d have a thousand pages by now.  No, I’m trying to write my vows.”

The red-haired male slipped into the seat next to him and put his feet up on the table.  “Well, since I just did this a few weeks ago, let me give you some advice.”  

“Okay,” he replied, eyeing the court-trained male warily.

“I’d advise against going with, ‘You’re my mate.  Let’s fuck.’  It kind of takes away from the grandeur of the moment.”

Now Cassian laughed for real.  “I wouldn’t want to steal your line anyway.   I was practically unconscious at the time, but wasn’t that basically what you said when Elain came out of the Cauldron?”

A smirk played on Lucien’s lips.  “I told you I was speaking from experience.”  He crossed his arms and looked straight into Cassian’s steady hazel eyes.  “Why do you want to marry her?  What first drew you to her, though I doubt you got a lot of encouragement?  You’ve been alive and from what I’ve gathered, fucking freely for over five hundred years.  Why decide now to bind yourself to her?”

The slight disdain in his tone coupled with the emphasis on the last word had anger flaring, and Cassian leaned forward, every inch the warrior.  He opened his mouth, and Lucien pointed at the paper.  “Don’t tell me, write.”  His mouth tightened, but he took up his pen and began to work.  There was a lot of crossing out and long pauses, but eventually he stopped, surveyed his work, then passed the paper to Lucien, who had been watching the process with no little amusement.

“I hope that wasn’t as painful as it looked,” he said, before reading the lines.  “Mother’s tits, your handwriting is atrocious.”  His expression changed from its usual irreverence as his eyes scanned the page, and he handed it back wordlessly.  Cassian looked at him with a question on his face, and Lucien merely nodded.  Standing, he walked towards the stacks, dropping a hand briefly on Cassian’s shoulder as he passed.

*****

Elain walked into the kitchen garden, bearing a tray full of iced tea that she set out for everyone before settling into a chair herself.  It was an unusually warm day for this late in the fall and everyone was soaking up the last of the sun’s rays.  She looked even more beautiful than ever, Nesta thought; more grounded, which seemed ironic given how much time Elain always spent with the earth.  Unlike herself, Elain had always imagined and wished to be married with children and a nice manor house and everything.  Though her current situation was not how she planned it when they were younger, being bonded forever to a male as magnetic as the fox-faced bastard didn’t seem to be disagreeing with her at all.  Even if he was just about the polar opposite of Graysen.  Nesta wasn’t sure which of the two males she despised more, Graysen for abandoning her sister or Lucien for winning her in the end.  

“So, I know you were talking about having the ceremony at the House of Wind,” Elain said, “but I’d like to make another suggestion.”  Nesta, Feyre and Mor all looked at her expectantly.  “There’s that walled garden I finished a few months ago, it’s totally enclosed so it would be nice and private, and there should be room for everyone since it’s such a small group.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Mor exclaimed.  

Feyre looked a little more hesitant.  “Isn’t it a little late in the season for a garden to be practical?”  Nesta was internally grateful to her for asking the question; after all, it was close to winter.

Elain leaned forward eagerly.  “No, not at all!  I designed it to be usable in all seasons, and it’s spelled to protect it from any extreme cold.  Right now it’s got beautiful foliage, and some nice rich flowers in reds and purples and yellows and there are some patches of white.  They should go nicely with Cassian’s Siphons.  Plus I can add some potted or cut flowers of whatever colors you want.”

Nesta smiled at her sister, at her palpable joy and excitement, as she said, “That sounds perfect, and I’ll trust your judgment as to what flowers are appropriate.”  She thought Elain was going to take flight right there and disappear to prep the garden.  It was obviously an effort her her sister to keep in her seat, but she managed to refocus on the rest of the task at hand.  

The three of them went through the extensive menu Mor proposed, then Elain asked to see the guest list.  She studied it for a moment, then asked, “Why is there a burned out hole at the bottom of the list?”

Playing with a piece of her hair, Nesta replied airily, “Oh, Cassian took exception to one of my invitees.”

“But he’s okay with the cat coming?” Feyre asked drily.

Nesta leveled one of her flat looks at her.  “Of course.”  She didn’t understand her sister’s evident irritation at Willow’s inclusion; she’d always seemed to enjoy her playful antics when they spent time together.

Elain piped up, “I’ll manage Willow!  Oh, I’d love to have her there.” Feyre subsided with a shrug and a wry smile, won over by her sweetness, just as everyone always was.

A shadow appeared overhead, and everyone looked up as Cassian touched down.  “Everything going well?” he asked, bending down to brush a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head.  

The four women nodded in unison, then Nesta added, “Other than Feyre being beaten into submission about Willow being issued an invitation.”  He laughed.  

“Can I be updated on the plans?” he requested as he sat on the edge of the table, all chairs being occupied.  Elain and Mor immediately began running through all the details while Nesta sat back, a little bemused.  Elain had been home for less than twenty four hours and was already more involved with the plans than she was.  She met Cassian’s eyes and her mate gave a tiny shrug.  They were lucky to be able to basically wind up the other females and let them go, though she did appreciate having final say.  Not that she had had to overrule much of anything.

“We haven’t discussed one very important thing,” Mor said.  “Alcohol.”  Feyre nodded fervently.  “I’ve already got wine planned, both sparkling and regular.  What else do you want?”

Lucien winnowed in, as if summoned by the mention of liquor, and after kissing Elain and settling her in his lap he joined in.  Only Rhys was absent, having left after their lesson to discuss some sort of assignment for the spymaster.  She found herself missing him a little for some reason.  He had been surprising her with his patience and understanding during their lessons.  Together they had realized her power worked almost directly opposite his - when he wanted to kill, he pushed out with his power, while it seemed she needed to pull in.  They speculated that was why she was unsuccessful against the King, as lashing out could affect a body but not terminally.  Rhys could also affect a huge number at once, while she could sense many but only affect one at a time.  The best thing from a day to day standpoint was she was discovering that she did possess a few of the extra abilities, like accessing pocket realms.  He was also pretty sure she’d be able to winnow given how easily she could manipulate living energy, but she hadn’t managed yet.

Cassian began listing an impressive additional supply of spirits and Nesta refocused onto the conversation.  Feyre chimed in with some of Rhys’s favorites.  Nesta was fine with just the wine.  She didn’t want to forget any of the ceremony, and after her experience with the Gravediggers she doubted her ability to handle anything stronger.  Watching the others laugh and discuss the merits of various liquors warmed her; she loved her mate’s enthusiasm for all of this.  In the human world, the men generally acted as if all this was the women’s territory and beneath them.  Here, the males seemed to see the planning as not just a responsibility but a valued right.  The two present males started an enthusiastic discussion of the merits of licorice in some sort of drink she’d never heard of before, and she sat back contentedly and let the noise and joy flow over her like water.

*****

The night before the wedding, Feyre had insisted that Nesta stay with her and Elain at the townhouse, just as they had for Elain’s wedding, so Cassian went back to the apartment alone.  Willow greeted him with her usual demands for food and petting, then settled herself on the bookcase for a thorough wash and a nap.  He hoped she would enjoy herself at the ceremony; she certainly had never seemed fazed by traveling to the cabin or the townhouse, so he suspected she would take it in stride.  He ate and had just settled down on the couch with a glass of wine to read when he heard footsteps on the roof and headed up to check it out.

Azriel and Rhys were making themselves comfortable on the chairs Nesta had insisted be added to the chaise in the rooftop garden.  They had brought a bottle of something stronger than the wine, no doubt secreted out from under Rhys’s bed.  Cassian took the glass Rhys was holding out and claimed the chaise.  Rhys held up his glass in a silent toast, and the other two echoed the gesture before they drank in unison.  “Feyre kicked me out for the night,” he said ruefully.  “So Az and I decided to come down and keep you company on your last night alone.  Ready for tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he said, with unfeigned nonchalance.  “I mean, we’ve been living together for a few months now.  This is just a ceremony to make it all official, right?  I don’t really expect anything to change other than getting used to wearing a ring.”  He actually couldn’t wait for that part; he loved the rings Rhys had helped him select.

The High Lord looked contemplative.  “I don’t know, my situation was so different.  I mean, we’d only really been together a few days before we had the ceremony, and it was all so rushed…But I definitely felt like having it official made it seem so much more permanent.”  He thought for a moment before continuing, “Somehow, when that priestess declared us married and mated, it was like the bond connected in our bones, not just our hearts.  Does that make sense?”

It was hard for Cassian to imagine the bond being any deeper or more enduring, but he nodded and took a sip of his drink.  He was really going to have to figure out his brother’s source of alcohol at some point, because damn, that shit was good.  There was a patter of tiny feet and Willow appeared on the roof, pausing to look around and sniff for a moment, tail twitching.  Her domain adequately surveyed, she scampered to Azriel and leaped onto his lap, arching her body up to bump him in the face with her little head.  He looked to Cassian with a long-suffering expression, but his hand stroked her automatically and her wild purr reverberated through the garden.

“Why must your cat torture me?” he asked in that cold voice, while scritching under her chin with his scarred fingers.  

“She likes you,” Cassian replied, “is that a bad thing?”  Willow stuffed her tail up Azriel’s nose while vigorously kneading his knee with her tiny needle claws and he glared at his brother, who was struggling not to laugh.  “Are you bringing anyone tomorrow?”

“I’m thinking Willow should be my date at this point,” he replied.  The cat responded by sprawling out on her back along his thigh, fluffy gray belly exposed, feet curling in the air.  

The others both laughed but Cassian sobered quickly.  He studied his brother.  “Mor’s bringing someone,” he said abruptly.  Rhys’s head snapped up, a warning in his eyes.  

Az’s fingers didn’t pause in their massage of the blissful cat’s neck.  “I know.”  There was not a trace of emotion in his voice or on his face.  

Cassian opened his mouth, but Rhys interrupted.  “Leave it alone.”

Az looked between his two brothers for a long moment.  “I always hoped you two would understand,” he said, the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice, his shadows curling around his shoulders.  “I know Feyre doesn’t, but she’s young, and has a human heart.”

“Understand what?” Cassian asked, quite gently for him.

“I am…content, with how things are,” he replied quietly.  “I have no need to share my life with anyone beyond the family.”  

“But -” Cassian started to protest and Az spoke over him, perhaps for the first time in history.

“I do not need what you need, brother.  I am happy for you, for all of you,” he looked to Rhys, “but I have no desire for that type of bond myself.  I thought you could understand that.”

The other two exchanged looks.  “But what about Mor?” Cassian finally asked.

“Any feelings I had for Mor beyond the familial faded a long time ago.  It’s just that none of you noticed.”  There was a cold anger rising in his face, despite the dry humor in his voice.  “You have been assuming for all these years that I sought what you did.  But I have all I need with the two of you.  Brothers who truly care for me.”  Cassian thought of Az’s biological brothers and his eyes flicked to the scarred hands beneath the blue Siphons.  Rhys’s attention was similarly focused.  “And you,” he turned to Rhys, who pulled his violet eyes up to meet his gaze, “brought me the added benefit of Feyre, who despite the fact that she wants for me what I do not desire for myself, also truly cares.”

Cassian was struggling to understand this.  He thought back to how his life had been before Feyre had fallen into it and brought her sisters with her; back to before Rhys had disappeared Under the Mountain.  He had been comfortable, yes, but always restless; he would never have described himself as content.  Even when he was sated following a good fight or a good fuck or preferably both, as soon as the fatigue wore off the buzzing energy had returned.  But he had never seen that with Az, who would take a lover, yes, but without that driving need.  Who while he fought and practiced with an eye to perfection, it was only to hone a necessary skill.   He had always assumed the shadowsinger just hid it better, that the cold rage that lurked beneath the impassive surface was a result of the same emptiness he felt.

Perhaps it was instead a result of the fact that even those who loved him best didn’t really see him.

“Do not dare to condescend to me with your pity,” Azriel snapped, and Cassian bristled until he realized he was not the one being addressed.  He looked to Rhys, to the muscle feathering in his clenched jaw.  “I am not diminished because I am not bound to another.”  Willow startled at the shift in mood, leaping down and skittering across to settle underneath the chaise.  Rhys bowed his head under the fierce glare.

“No, you are not,” he said quietly, almost humbly.  “You most certainly are not.  I just…I can’t believe I was wrong all this time.  And the way you look at Mor, the sadness…I still don’t understand it.”

His voice softer, warmer, Az responded, “I am sad for Mor because I pity anyone who cannot acknowledge even to themselves who they truly are.  Not because of any unfulfilled wishes of my own.”  Cassian could have laughed at Rhys’s expression of utter bafflement, and even Azriel smiled a little.  “Did you think I haven’t noticed Mor bedding females all these years?”

Now it was true shock on Rhys’s elegant face, and Cassian did laugh out loud at his dropped jaw.  “What?”

“You may have noticed,” Cassian said wryly to Az, “but clearly our brother here has been out of the loop.”  He turned to Rhys.  “Did you never wonder why Mor is always hanging out at Rita’s?”

“What about Rita’s?”

The two Illyrians exchanged very amused looks before Cassian decided to take mercy on Rhys.  “Rita’s is basically a hot spot for those who are looking for same-sex options.  Did you not ever wonder why you constantly had males inviting you to bed there?”

Rhys shook his head, a trace of his usual arrogance reappearing as he replied, “No, I get invitations from everyone no matter where I am.  I never really thought about it.  Though considering you also did whenever we were there, I suppose I should have.”

Cassian winked at him.  “I too get invitations from everyone everywhere, brother.”

Az snorted.  “You accept them though, Cass.  Rhys doesn’t.”  Rhys turned to him, looking startled again.  Cassian just shrugged.  

“You better get over yourself,” he said to Rhys, “because Mor is bringing Ahna tomorrow.”

“Ahna?  As in, Vivianne’s sister?”  He nodded, and Rhys turned speculative.  “I wonder what Feyre is going to say to that.”

Clearing his throat, Cassian said, “Um, as far as I know, it was Feyre’s idea.  And Nesta had Cerridwen write the invitation to her directly.”  Laughing again at Rhys’s dismay at learning he really was the last to know, he rose and poured them all another knuckle’s length.  He stood behind Az’s chair, dropping a broad hand on his shoulder, and looked at these males that he had loved almost all his life.  They had fought for each other and pushed each other and each had become a better version of themselves thanks to the other two.  He knew that without Rhys and Az, and Rhys’s mother, he would never have amounted to someone worthy of the female he was to marry tomorrow.  No matter how big the void Nesta filled in his soul, it would never diminish what he felt for his brothers.

Clearing his throat, he raised his glass.  “I know we haven’t done this much since the war, or really for a lot longer than that, but I want you to know that I love you both, no matter what.  To truth among brothers,” he said.  The others raised their glasses, murmuring, “To truth,” in reply.  As Cassian tilted his head back to drain his glass, a shooting star passed overhead, echoing the fiery trail of the liquor down his throat.  All three of them froze, staring at the sky, as awed by the flash of beauty above them as they had been centuries ago when they first stood together beneath the stars.

anonymous asked:

Everybody was so distracted by Matt's sad Canadian winter skin that nobody talked about the truly important things; Harry's outfit was fucking dope, and Matt was wearing what was clearly intended to be a funeral suit? The pleating on his pants made me cry tbh like, buddy, please, why??

AOIJWEOIJ DID YOU GHOST WRITE THIS @f-f-f-fight. listen i love matthew but his fashion sense is tragic. all those green sweaters and baseball caps someone help him.

harry actually did have a stylist for the event (i think he said he picks a lot of his clothes, but his stylist helps him out for major events? not 2 diminish harry’s natural stylish ways btw) and idk if matt has one but harry should really lend daddario his because harry has always looked fine as fuck every time he shows up on the red carpet anywhere.

look at this. A FASHION ICON LEGENDS ONLY

Happy 200th birthday, Serena!

My dearest baby Serena da Silva has her birthday today, October 17th, and it’s not just any birthday - today marks the day she was born 200 years ago! EEEP how exciting is that? You only get to celebrate an anniversary like that once in your lifetime!

If you’re unfamiliar with Serena, she is my character from my book project series for Amnesia: The Dark Descent, in which she plays a major role. She’s probably the character nearest and dearest to my heart, and she tends to be a fan favourite among readers as well, so I wanted to do something extra special for this particular anniversary.

So here comes: a birthday feature! In which I display all the amazing gifts Serena has received today.

First of all, I want to show the wip of what I had planned to do for Serena, which unfortunately I couldn’t finish in time since my laptop screen broke at the WORST. TIMING. EVER. I meant to have this artwork ready for today, but since I won’t be able to finish it until later, I’ll share a wip of the clean sketch:

I must admit, I’m quite proud of it! It’s the first time I experiment with perspective and interiors for real, and I also usually suck at drawing animals, but Cleo (Serena’s cat) came out quite okay here, so I’m happy! I hope I’ll be able to finish it sooner rather than later.

And now, let’s get into the amazing gifts my baby has received today AAAHHH!


@juliajm15

If you’ve been following me for a while, you might know that @juliajm15 is an art goddess who’s been making amazing beautiful fanart of my characters for the past couple years. She always goes so above and beyond for me, and that can be seen by LOOKING AT THIS GORGEOUS PIECE OF SERANIEL FANART.

IT’S THEIR FIRST KISS. THEY’RE SO YOUNG AND INNOCENT HERE. THAT HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. THAT DRESS. THAT HAIR (BOTH OF THEM). I COULD GO ON GUSHING BUT WE’D BE HERE ALL DAY.

OH YEAH, AND THAT BACKGROUND.

I just had to mention that.

OMG I die over how perfect and cute and romantic this is, it just completely captures the essence and emotion of that scene in my book! I feel so blessed and privileged, how am I ever gonna recover from this perfection?

But not only did she do this amazing gorgeous romantic piece for me, she also did a complete remake of Serena’s character portrait and DAMN SHE LOOKS GORGEOUS.

HOW does she always manage to capture Serena so perfectly? Ugh I honestly just can’t with this perfection, I just can’t. That expression, that hair, those LIPS. Okay, I’m gonna move on because I could literally gush about Serena’s face all day, but then we’d miss out on all the other amazing gifts she received today! Just, thank you so much @juliajm15 my darling, you’re such a generous and ultra skilled human being, thank you so much for being in my life and supporting me always


@shaelinwrites

So meme and aesthetics queen @shaelinwrites totally disarmed me today when she sent me THIS GORGEOUS MOODBOARD FOR SERENA OH MY LORD.

LOOK AT THAT GORGEOUS WINTER AESTHETIC. OMG LOOK, CLEO MADE A CAMEO ON THE BOTTOM LEFT. Omg these colours are just too beautiful I CAN’T. The art supplies, the gesture and expression of this girl, it’s all SO Serena. The whole feel of this moodboard is just so romantic and cosy and wintery and ugh, the nightgown, the long dark hair. I’m aware I’m just rambling and gushing throughout this post DEAL WITH IT.

And @shaelinwrites didn’t stop there, no, as any good bae, she knew how important the bae is. HAVE SOME MORE SERANIEL, THIS TIME BLACK AND WHITE SEXY EDITION.

OH MY LORD. HOW WILL I EVER RECOVER FROM ALL OF THIS. I CANNOT DEAL, CAN. NOT. DEAL.

All of this is literally just so accurate. Like, it’s so friggin’ hard to find good stock images that can embody a fictional character, BUT MY BAE DID IT *CRIES*. Thank you so much bae, omg this surprise was such a highlight today!!


@coffeeandcalligraphy

Another dear friend of mine (who’s a total cinnamon roll btw), @coffeeandcalligraphy, also went above and beyond for my character’s birthday because LOOK AT THIS:

I swear, everyone remembers the bae Baeniel. Eeeeeveryone.

Omg I swear, MY BABIES LOOK SO ATTRACTIVE HERE LIKE OH MY LORD. Daniel boooiiiiiii with that Expression of Angst™ and them puffy lips, and SERENA OMG THE HAIR AND THE LIPS AND EYES, HER INDIGENOUS ROOTS ARE SO PRONOUNCED WITH HER EYES AND I LOVE THAT.

I actually can’t??? Like how do I have so many talented af friends??? I must be a talent MAGNET I’m telling ya.

Oh and Rachel had the same idea as Baelin and went the sexy Black and White edition with the OTP as well:

BECAUSE CAN WE EVER HAVE TOO MUCH SEXINESS? I THINK NOT. Thank you so much @coffeeandcalligraphy I swear your art just blows me away, you’re improving at such a rapid pace, slow down, I can’t keep up


@sarahkelsiwrites

Also @sarahkelsiwrites is a close friend of mine, and actually @coffeeandcalligraphy‘s twin sister (gotta collect the whole pack amirite), and as part of her inktober challenge she did THIS GORGEOUS INKED PORTRAIT OF SERENA:

LIKE OMG OKAY SO the Victorian aesthetic is on POINT here, and OMG I love that her Hispanic features are soooo visible here. ALSO DAMN, THE DETAIL ON THE JEWELLERY. THE INKING OF THIS IS ALSO SO GREAT, LIKE, DO YOU SEE THE LINES IN HER HAIR???? I’m sorry, I’m an artist, I have to appreciate it when I see good craft, okay? I also gotta note that I’m living for how everyone always remembers Serena’s choker because girl never goes without one

Ugh HER EYES AND LIPS okay I gotta stop. I mention the eyes and lips every time, when will I switch it up. NEVER. Okay, glad we got that settled.

(Yes, I’m a dork, but only when I’m overwhelmed with this much love and beauty, I swear.)

Also omg THE SONG LYRICS, THOSE ARE SELENA GOMEZ LYRICS, AND IT’S STARS DANCE, AND I LOVE THAT SONG, AND IT’S SO RELEVANT, AND I’M ACTUALLY SHOOK. LORD thank you so much @sarahkelsiwrites god I just can’t believe how friggin’ talented and generous and thoughtful all of you are, I will never get over it.


Constance

So I’ve not mentioned this, but not too long ago I was totally taken by surprise and utterly *shook* when I received a private message on the site where I have Memoirs posted. This long message came from an angel named Constance, who registered a profile just to tell me how much she adored my story, give me fanart, and TELL ME SHE’S TRANSLATING THE ENTIRE THING TO FRENCH BRUH.

So if any of you out there are speaking French and not super comfortable with English, but still interested in reading Memoirs, it’s Constance you wanna hit up. She’s got you covered.

But back to the FANART.

Constance is working on this GORGEOUS Serena fanart for me, and while it’s not all finished yet, she said I could still post it for the birthday feature! (I’m going to update the post with the finished piece once it’s ready)

LOOK HOW CUTE AND PRETTY AND YOUNG MY SERENA IS HERE. THIS DRESS IS SO PRETTY, I DIE. OMG SHE HAS THE LOCKET. I realise like 90% of this post is all caps, but WHO CAN BLAME ME? I’m so #blessedyouknow right.

All I wanted in my life is Serena in a pink pretty dress. Thank you for realising my dreams, Constance *cries* and thank you so much for the endless support and this generosity! Seeing other people getting so invested in my story and characters really moves me so much, it’s all that I could hope for waaahh.


2k17 - Birthday One Shot

Okay, so I know how I said I couldn’t finish my artwork for Serena in time as I had intended, which made me very, very Sad™, BUT. I came up with something else.

So this was actually SUPER spontaneous and I usually NEVER do something like this, but I took a chance, and you know what? It worked out. I just wanna say thank you so much to my bae @shaelinwrites who pushed and motivated me to do this, I dunno what happened, but you must’ve transferred some of your writing machine abilities to me, because I actually managed to finish an entire one shot in JUST ONE DAY. (Are you as shook as I am? Cuz I can never seem to finish a chapter so I’m shook.)

Since I couldn’t finish my artwork for Serena like I planned, I decided to write a short fluffy non-canon one shot for her birthday. It was super spontaneous and unplanned, but it actually came surprisingly easy to write! I’ve not written in first person in many, many years, so this was really a leap of faith LOL, but I like the end result! A major thanks to @shaelinwrites, who encouraged me and critiqued the short before publication, and @coffeeandcalligraphy, @sarahkelsiwrites and @juliajm15 for giving it a read and telling me their thoughts as well! I hope you all enjoy this little piece of fluff; since I’m taking so long to write my book, maybe this can keep y’all entertained meanwhile

Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported me and celebrated Serena’s birthday with me, even just in spirit! It makes the long journey all worth it, knowing there are people out there who care (’:

(short story starts under the cut!)

Keep reading

I just quickly want to write my own statement to the new post of Amber and the general situation w/ f(x) as my own opinion. It’s very late ,so sorry if I write nonsense…
I love f(x), and I love Amber. She’s been my role model for a long time and I admire her personality and courage and it hurts to see her this disappointed and sad.
She’s been giving her all for such a long time, and always tried to please her fans, make them smile but is constantly neglected by SMEnt. She doesnt deserve this at all. She is an unbelievably creative and talented human being with a heart of gold, but like everytime, SM only looks for the money. Which is arguably understandable, it IS all about money afterall. But theres the point: she’s one of SM’s most successful soloists, writes her own lyrics, produces her own music (really dont intend to throw shade to any other soloists) with meaningful messages and it’s still not enough? Why?

I feel like my biggest fear right now, the disbandment of f(x) is nearer than ever before. Dont get me wrong; I want all of the members to be happy and do what they want to do, and I feel like it would be the best for all of them to begin a new chapter. Of course I’m sad, very sad actually, but lets face it… It’s the best thing to do. I don’t want to see Victoria overworked like she currently is, I dont want to see Krystal having to stay at SM even after all the things that happened to her sister, I don’t want to see Luna starving herself because of stupid weight restrictions and hate from knetz and I dont want to see Amber falling apart on what she once loved to do. I feel like it would be the best thing to do.

f(x)s music helped me through tough times, like some of you may also think. Their music is different from other groups, not only the genre, but also the lyrics. They dont always sing about their cute Oppa, the bad guy that cheated on them, or them looking for their 1st love, no. They did great songs about various topics. On relatable topics. Maybe thats why I appreciate their music so much… I never get bored of their music, I can even hear the same fucking song 10 times in a row and I wouldnt be annoyed!

Amber clearly isnt happy anymore and that hurts so much. She is the type of person that hates sitting around and waiting for miracle, and her patience has ended (understandably). I just hope this is over soon and no matter what happens… I will support them, they probably dont know of my existence, but they also supported me.

2

Just happened to stumble across these pretty pastel aesthetics on Tumblr and for some reason, the longer I stared at it, the more I had an inspiration for a fanfiction? I’m not sure what it’s gonna be about yet, but based on what I see, it’s probably going to be an au where the both of them are artists? Also, do expect quite a fair bit of angst because of the bittersweet vibes I get? 

I’m actually in the process of writing a little of it now and when I feel like it’s ready to be posted, I intend to post it on AFF, AO3 and of course, Tumblr, through my aesthetic account. :) Do give it lots of love and support when it’s out because it would mean a lot to me. :) 

Links to my stuff are all in BOLD!

Photo credits to @twoamaranth

anonymous asked:

IS it poor writing, or are a few people just misreading it? i see so much genuine warmth, caring, and love in their relationship but you make it sound so unhealthy. he's imperfect but he loves his daughter and sees that she's been doing her best, but she's in a rut so he starts gently nudging her to keep moving forward, encouraging her but never forcing her into anything. he stands by her through it all and it turns out he was RIGHT about what would help her. she's doing a lot better by ep11.

yeah, it is poor writing, when more than just ‘a few’ are calling it out

actually pay attention to the dialogue, he says shitty things to her constantly, he dismisses her depression and PTSD as ‘moping’, he makes at least two victim blaming comments or implications (one being that ‘joke’ that left a lot of people uncomfortable), and after a particularly nasty flashback, our first indication of how badly she’s doing, instead of helping her or even checking with her that she’s okay, he just leaves her alone to deal with it (with exactly zero establishment that this is something she’s okay with before you jump on that; if they don’t even imply that the reason he left her alone is because she wants to be left alone, a system established during the months we didn’t see, then no such system exists)

there’s the backhanded compliments (actually, never complimenting Yang directly at all; the one solid compliment he gives that isn’t a false comparison because he’s projecting Raven onto her, is complimenting the arm, not Yang herself), he doesn’t actually say anything about Yang’s own positive traits, there’s the unfounded criticisms based on a ‘pattern’ that doesn’t actually exist, and at no point does Yang even really try to defend herself while he’s trying to make out like she’s stubborn and hardheaded (when a big point is made in her backstory about stubbornness, it isn’t going to be a problem she has in the present)

and he wasn’t right, because what ‘got her out of it’ was an unintentional guilt trip, nothing he actually did to ‘encourage and support’ her - her improvement after that was a result of that initial nudge, not anything he actually did

oh, also the unsubtle “put the arm on” shit. he clearly expected a positive response when springing something that big on her that he’d clearly not discussed with her beforehand (and a prosthetic is a huge deal, you don’t just surprise someone in her position with that), then in the later conversation he basically dismissed her acceptance of her new normal. ‘encouraging’ her to do what he wants instead of letting her make her own decisions is in fact, a shitty move (in fact at no point was Yang asked what she wanted to do - there’s just this overhanging ‘get back into the fight’ expectation from everyone who talks to her. the arm is treated like its only purpose is for fighting, not so Yang can live easier)

as is his continued neglect; letting a mentally ill young woman who is only just barely an adult and hasn’t fully recovered go off on her own to go and find her underage sister, instead of him, their father, despite his earlier implying that the only reason he was staying was because of Yang, that is neglectful - it creates the implication that Yang wasn’t the reason he was staying at all, and the guilt she felt that motivated her in putting the arm on because she felt like an inconvenience suddenly feels misplaced

at no point am i denying that he cares, of course he cares, but he’s not really that helpful when it’s more than clear he doesn’t understand what Yang’s going through (or Yang in general), comes across as a selfish bully half the time, and the biggest impact he actually made was something he did by accident

that doesn’t come across as what they apparently intended, and so yes, it’s bad writing

oh-snizzity-snap  asked:

(I'm sorry if asks like this get annoying but this is really fascinating to me) So I know some stuff, based on another ask I did. But you make dark so intricate and believable. The way he snakes his way into things and his way of wording things (giving you an answer and providing 5 more questions off of it) and I just wanted to know if you could explain how you decide to word it, or when to know he would be best to come in- (this is rlly vague and long and I apologize-)

It’s not annoying at all. It’s actually very flattering. 

When writing Darkiplier’s dialogue, there are a few traits that I try to consistently maximise, based off the videos he’s actually been in.

  • Commands. Dark tends not to ask a question if he can give an instruction instead. “Tell me X“ instead of “Why are you doing X”. 
  • Concise dialogue. I try to make all of Dark’s dialogue as short as possible. This leaves less room to say something weak or foolish, and makes each phrase relatively stronger. Every word counts for as much as possible without sounding like he’s some kind of walking thesaurus. For example, ‘when you return’ instead of ‘when you come back’. 
  • He certainly doesn’t use filler words much, if at all. Words like ‘um, well, eh, like, really’. He is more likely to remain silent until he has a proper sentence structured. 
  • If Dark can use words to give himself an advantage or make the other person in the conversation sound stupid, he will do so. Every interaction is strategic for him. 
  • He tends not to answer questions. Answers will either be indirect, require more information, or if they are straightforward, are of no consequence to him at all if you know the answer. 

It regards to when I place him in a story, it’s basically as close to the action or interesting bit as possible. Dark is patient, but he’s not going to waste all day on something if it’s at all possible to avoid doing so. This also makes for more interesting writing, as boring bits at the beginning or end can be trimmed, so you get straight into it. 

I think of it in terms of Dark being condensed. He’s not present for any longer than he has to be to accomplish his goal, he doesn’t waste and words so packs meaning into less. There’s not much ‘spare’ to his character, he plays things close to his chest and controls what he reveals, though it’s always implied that he knows everything and intended for everything to happen. (Sometimes he does, sometimes he’s planning to take advantage of a situation regardless of which of the two possible outcomes occurs). Compare this to Anti, who can literally be all over the place. 

He definitely uses slippery phrases from time to time, where the implied meaning is different from the actual meaning. Compare “I should apologise” to “I am sorry”. Both sound like they should mean the same thing, but they definitely don’t. 

I have the advantage writing him because I can make the other character fall into his verbal traps more easily than some people would, which was a pretty major premise in ‘my mistake’.

I’m always happy to talk about these things, and I hope that feeds some ideas.