#Rhys is garlic

[ofmdrecaps]

06/01-06/04/2025 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; OFMD Dates; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Nathan Foad; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Dominic Burgess; Craft Fair For Pride; Our Flag Means Pride Reminders; Siren Events - The New-Unicon Advent Calendar!; Fan Spotlight: OFMD Mermay 2025: Mer-Izzy!, OFMD Fic Club; Big Gay Energy Pod; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Garlic Soup Week; Love Notes;

== OFMD Dates ==

A few people have mentioned some key OFMD dates so I thought it would be good to include them! Let me know if I've missed any!

06/01/2025 - Third Anniversary of S2 Renewal Announcement

06/03/2025 - June the 3rd, An Excellent Day! The day that Stede and crew plundered the plant in the pilot! Mentioned by Lucius in Act Of Grace

= David Jenkins =

Chaos Dad Decided to start pride month off making all of us cry <3

Source: David's Bsky

And Chaos Dad reblogged this all too true line posted by AnnaaCoola

Source: David's Bsky

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys is super busy out in Cardiff!

Source: Rhys' IG Stories

Two new Daily Darby's!

June 2 / June 3 / June 4

Source: Rhys' Free Substack

Rhys has been being a complete menace again if you can't tell.

Source: Rhys IG Stories

He was also featured in TheTime.Com! Check out the article here!

Annnnnd Good news, The Cryptid Factor is live at Appleton Tower - Orchard, 05-10 Aug at 16:15! You can get tickets at gildedballoon.co.uk

Source: Rhys IG

= Taika Waititi =

Taika is in Africa with NVFilmStudiosAfrica's Chairman Simo Kubheka!

Source: NVFilmStudioAfrica's IG

= Nathan Foad =

Lots of Nathan sightings lately! Out with a friend <3

Source: Nathan's IG Stories

= Samba Schutte =

Samba is NOT happy with the heat going on!

Source: Samba's IG

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico's busy with their show Rise of a King! They're announcing an ASL interpreter at the show, and discounts for hard of hearing and deaf fans! Check out the video below!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Vico Ortiz (@puertoricaninja)

Source: Vico's IG

= Dominic Burgess =

Our dear Jeffrey Fettering is sending us some love for pride with his fiance! He's out in Chicago this week!

Dominic has a lot in the works right now! Below is a screenshot from Caged, and a trailer for XY!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Stephan Fleet (@stephanfleet)

Source: Dominic's IG

= Craft Fair for Pride =

Our lovely friends that worked on the OFMD Craft Fair are participating in another craft fair-- while not OFMD Themed, it is Pride themed! Check it out here if you'd like to grab some pride swag!

Source: @ghostalservice's Bsky!

= Our Flag Means Pride =

Reminder! You can still sign up (no purchase necessary) for many of the Giveaways going on for Our Flag Means Pride!

Source: AOC Bsky

Current Milestones Hit, and the forms you can use to enter them!

$250 - Form

$500 - Form

$750 - Form

$1000 - Form

$1500 - Form

$2000 - Form

$2500 - Form

$3000 - Form

$3500 - Form

$4000 - Form

$5000 - Form

$6000 - Form

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

= Siren Events - The New Uni-Con =

Our lovely con-hosts over at @siren-events-uk have got a A Very Piratey Advent calendar up and running as the Countdown to The New Uni-Con has begun! The New Uni-Con will be going on at the Hilton London Gatwick, 20th - 22nd of June! Each day of the advent, there's a new announcement or discount so be sure to follow them on their socials to catch the updates! Tumblr / Instagram / Bsky

Day 2

"Advent treat number two isn't just for today, but for two whole weeks! Any purchase of convention extras or merch from June 1st through to the online store closing at midnight (bst) on June 15th, will give you the chance to win one of the following #TNUC extras, which you can keep for yourself or gift to a friend! * David Jenkins Coffee Break * Group Photo * Welcome Meet & Greet * Breakfast Meet & Greet Winners will be behind doors 16 through to 19!"

Source: Siren Events Day 2 Advent Calendar Page

Day 3

Some cool news -- Gypsy will be judging the costume contest! 😱

Source: Siren Events Day 3 Calendar Page

Day 4

There's a flash discount code for 20% off Meet and Greets going on until Until noon (bst) on Saturday 7th June. 👀 Check it out here!

Source: Siren Events Day 4 Calendar Page

= Fan Spotlight =

= OFMD Mermay 2025 =

I know we're in June, but I wanted to highlight this really gorgeous fan art of Mer-Izzy by @volkradugiart! I love the detail on the tail!

Source: Volkradugiart's Tumblr

= OFMD Fic Club =

I know many of you are already aware and partake in the fabulous OFMD Fic Club Discord Server, but for those who don't I wanted to make sure to highlight this month's featured Author as well as their monthly server plans!

The Featured Author for this month is El aka BonnyPitty! The fic the club is highlighting this month is Even Lovers Drown! You can join them to discuss the fic in the appropriate channel, found in #Announcements, and they'll be chatting with El on Saturday, June 14, 2025! Their featured topic this month is The Queer Muse and they'll be having a chat later on in the month on Friday, June 27, 2025 to explore the theme in depth! Wanna join in the fun? You can join the OFMD Fic Club Server here!

Source: KaraWrites, OFMD Fic Club Admin

= Big Gay Energy Pod =

There's a new episode of Big Gay Energy Pod - and this episode our dear Jim, Vico Ortiz is on the pod talking about Drag, Vulnerability, and "Rise of a King"! Check it out here!

Source: Big Gay Energy Podcast

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

New episode of OFMFF! Check out the episode on your favorite listening platform by visiting their linktr.ee!

Source: OFMFF IG

= Garlic Soup Week =

Reminder! Garlic Soup Week is coming up fast! June 22-28, 2025 remember to share all your lovely celebrations of our favorite polycule with the #GarlicSoupWeek on the various platforms! Wanna learn more? Visit @garlicsoupweek on Tumblr or Bluesky!

Source: Garlic Soup Week Bsky

== Questions / Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. Wow, so many recaps in a couple of days, there's just so much going on. I would love some feedback when you have time -- I don't know if life will make it harder for me to do recaps for a while-- so I would love it if I could chat with a few of you that read regularly about some ideas I have regarding a discord server that might serve the same purpose. If you're interested in brainstorming with me, please feel free to DM me here or @gentlebeardsbarngrill!

Sorry for taking up a bit of the love notes for that! I saw this love note from TheLatestKate today and it made me think of you all. I know we're all trying really hard to fix all we can, but remember that it doesnt have to happen all at once. You'll get there.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @thelatestkate

Source: The Latest Kate IG / Linktr.ee

[krsonmar]

OFMD fans! Here's a simple and quick thing you can do to hopefully get the show picked up by a new service created by a company merger! Paramount and Skydance are creating a streaming platform and the people running it are hopefully more likely to see a story about queer and BIPOC joy with fantastic numbers behind it as a good investment. Bluesky user Petrichor has put together a Kudoboard to send them, which means anyone can submit a blurb about what the show means to them, so the comments will all be aggregated and sent to P/S. You can even use images from the show gathered by OFMD Frames!

Add a blurb of your own (you don't have to put in an e-mail if you don't want) and pass this link along!

[redbleedingrose]

So I’m a midnight snacker. I will either wake up in the middle of the night fucking starving or already be awake and want something to eat. And right now I’m fucking hungry, heating up some leftovers trying to be quiet so I don’t wake up my roommate because for some fucking reason everything is louder in the middle of the night 😐

Now just imagine, trying not to wake Rhys, at like 2 in the morning heating up some leftovers being really quiet because not only is everything louder while everyone is asleep, but because of fae’s really sensitive hearing. So you gotta be extra quiet. Naturally, you accidentally make a little too much noise, probably because of the silverware (always rats my hungry ass out) Rhys wakes up, makes his way to the kitchen, and finds you doing your little happy dance while eating cause you thought you were successful in not waking up your mate and are now happy to be eating.

He would totally sit there in the doorway of the kitchen waiting for you turn around and see him standing there watching you. When you finally see him, you just stand there like a deer in headlights mid bite.

Anyways, I’m gonna go eat my spaghetti and garlic cheesy toast now.

I'm actually in tears rn bc I am just thinking about how scared you would be bc this male is sneaky, he does not let himself be heard as he looks around for his darling, always on alert.

UGH he is so sexy leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, with a smug smirk on his pretty face, a single eyebrow raised as he watches your hips sway around in delight as you munch on toffee crunch pudding.

You fully do not notice him as you dig around the pantry looking for some potato chips and apricot jam to put onto the bagel you are toasting. You are in snacking mode, giggling to yourself at how good you have gotten sneaking out of bed without waking his high lords grumpy butt, because you know if he caught you getting out, he would sling a giant arm around your waist and pull you right back into his embrace and keep you from escaping.

Your mouth is stuffed with a spoonful of the pudding, flushed cheeks puffing out like a little chipmunk, hand deep into the bag of potato chips when you turn around to find your mate silently watching you from the doorway.

The little yelp you let out as you drop your bag of chips in shock has him chuckling, making his way toward you as you whine at him for scaring you. Rhys pecks your messy lips in apology, settles you onto the kitchen counter, handing you a bowl for your chips while pulling out a bag of gummy worms he had stashed away secretly from you.

"Sorry darling, I knew you would eat them all if you found them instead of sharing with me," as he dodges your indignant smack to his shoulder while offering you some with another peck mushed onto your cheek.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Things I heard for the first time at the Heathrow Con today:

There was a deleted scene in ‘the curse of the seafaring life’ prior to garlic soup on the bed. Jim was looking for the garlic and salt, and getting all worked up. Archie looked at Olu and said, ‘Getting wet below decks’. Olu agrees. Madeleine Sami ad-libbed the line, but it was further confirmation of the polycule.

There was a character arc for Wee John in which he is getting tired of being treated as ‘the big guy’. When Stede asks him to do something such as steal the wheel, Wee John was supposed to look at him and pout. Apparently each time he did it, Rhys and Kristian cracked up so much, they had to abandon the scene. There has to be outtakes of these scenes.

Someone asked if the ‘boyfriend’ line was scripted in 208. Rhys said it was definitely not scripted, but can’t remember if he improv’d it or David threw it in on set as improv.

Oh, and both Nathan and Con rejected the idea there was any frisson between Lucius and Izzy.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Second Chances

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This is part 2 of Second Choices! Part 3 will be a shamelessly smutty epilogue so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when that's live!

Warnings: Drinking, little bit of angst/alludes to a history of abuse

Rhysand returned from Windhaven just in time for dinner, rested and refreshed after a long weekend holed up in his mother’s cottage with the male he’d been casually seeing for the past few months. In addition to being pretty, Austris had a wicked tongue that kept Rhys thoroughly distracted. 

It was three days of pure bliss; of forgetting about his duties and giving into every whim and desire that struck him without thought. While he dreaded returning to work and his responsibilities, the thought of spending the evening catching up with his family put a little bounce in his step as he landed outside the House of Wind. 

The outdoor dining table was set, silver trays piled high with juicy, slow-cooked meats, a rainbow of roasted vegetables, and potatoes whose garlic-and-rosemary glaze wafted in the early evening breeze. Fae lights floated above, illuminating the feast in a soft glow. Behind it all, he saw his family sprawled out on the lounge chairs. Judging by the scattered bottles littering the ground around them, he had lots of catching up to do.  

He took one step and then Mor jumped up, waving her wine glass towards him. 

“Rhys is back!” She exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed towards him. “Time to eat!” Her voice was suspiciously loud, though he supposed that happened when one drank too much on an empty stomach. 

He chuckled and accepted the one-armed hug she offered. 

“Good to see you too, cousin,” he said, guiding her towards the table. “You must be really hungry.” 

Amren stalked past, face pinched in a scowl. 

“You have no idea,” she grumbled as she plopped down in a chair. She reached for an unopened bottle of red wine and uncorked it with her teeth, filling her goblet to the brim. 

Rhys’ eyebrows skyrocketed towards his hairline, turning to throw a questioning look at Az and Cas as they made their way to the table. The Shadowsinger’s face was impenetrable, as usual, but in three centuries of friendship Rhys had never seen Cassian look so pitiful. His wings drooped dangerously close to brushing against the ground, and his hair was a loose, tangled mess that hung over his face. Beneath it, shadows lined bloodshot eyes that were cast downward, lacking their usual spark of mischief.  

Azriel shook his head as he passed; the movement was barely more than a twitch but Rhys got the meaning loud and clear. He took his seat and poured himself a hefty glass of wine; he had a feeling he was going to need it. 

Everyone settled at the table, refilling drinks and piling food onto their plates, yet there was a gaping hole between Mor and Cas where you should have been. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, not thinking much of your absence although he was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to catch up with you before it was back to business as usual the next morning. 

Suddenly, everyone stilled with their forks and goblets held aloft. It was too quiet. Panic jolted his heart into a sprint as he took in the frozen faces of his Inner Circle looking like children caught sneaking sweets before supper. 

Finally, Amren spoke, glaring at Cas as she spat, “Ask Cassian.” 

The Lord of Bloodshed glared at her and pushed away from the table, chair clattering to the ground behind him. 

“I’m eating in my room,” he snarled, stabbing the fattest, rarest steak with his fork and plopping it on top of the vegetables piled on his plate. 

“Cauldron boil me, I leave you alone for three days,” Rhys muttered, downing his wine in one long gulp. 

—

Earlier that day, Amren had stopped by your room and offered to skip dinner with you, but you were looking forward to a quiet evening in the library. Alone. After storming out on Cassian, your two best (female) friends had spent the night in your room with you, drinking straight from the bottle of Illyrian moonshine you’d pilfered from Rhys’ secret stash until you passed out in a tangled mess of limbs and hair somewhere between midnight and dawn. 

They’d only agreed to leave when you threatened to show Rhys the memory of them breaking into his room using only a hairpin the night before. And even then, every two hours or so you’d get a knock and a quiet “Just checking in!” from one or the other. You suspected they drew up a schedule, and though you were grateful to have such caring friends, what you really needed was peace and quiet. 

It was hard to wrap your head around just how much things had changed within a span of twenty-four hours. But curled up amongst the stacks of old books in a plush armchair tucked away in a little alcove, you finally managed to admit to yourself that you could have handled things better. After all, you were the one that made this mess for yourself—you should have known better than to shit-talk Cassian’s girlfriend—and instead of apologizing, you’d fucked things up even further. 

With a sigh, you cracked open the stiff leather cover of your journal and flipped to a blank page, letting your pencil hover above it. Not one to pay too much attention to emotions and feelings, the little book hadn’t gotten much use in the nearly two centuries since Rhysand had gifted it to you. 

But when your brain was twisted into too many knots that not even a night of drinking with your friends could untangle, the only thing that seemed to help was spilling your guts onto paper. Seeing your thoughts laid out in graphite helped you make sense of them, so you pressed down the tip of your pencil and forced your hand to move. 

Cassian is my mate. He’s my mate and I fucked everything up and he probably wants nothing to do with me. 

I’ve been trying to ignore it, to push down these stupid feelings. I thought it was just the bond trying to force me into something more with someone who was supposed to be my best friend. Just a friend. 

But if I’m being completely honest, I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with him. After all, you don’t sleep with someone on and off for half a century if there isn’t at least some baseline of attraction. 

I don’t know, I guess I just always assumed that since my father didn’t want me and my mother only wanted me for the child support check, well, no one would ever want me. Not forever; not as a wife and definitely not as a mate. 

I’m too damaged for anyone. 

Too damaged for Cassian. 

Having him as a friend forever was more important than trying for more. It was too big of a risk, and I couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose my family, not when I finally got one that stuck around. 

I could sleep with him, though. It was transactional; a mutual itch-scratching made purposefully hazy by Mirthroot and alcohol. In those stolen moments, I could pretend I was someone else. Someone worth keeping. 

Mor thinks I’m insane for keeping the bond to myself for so long, but we were fucking regularly enough to take the edge off and, well. I learned to grit my teeth and take it on the chin before I got my first cycle. 

I’m good at pushing things down, at pretending to be okay. Even if he does want me, I don’t know if I can handle it. That deep, emotional intimacy without anywhere to hide. 

Your hand flew across the page as words poured out of the deepest, darkest parts of you. The things you kept hidden from everyone, including yourself. Tears swelled in the corners of your eyes which stung from the effort it took to keep them from falling. 

And then you felt a gentle knock against your mental shields. Rhys must be back. You peel them back just enough to let his voice in. 

Y/N? Can I come down and say hi to my favorite sister? 

I’m your only sister, motherfucker. I better be your favorite. 

He waited, a soft breath of a presence within your mind, swirling winds of calm smoothing out the edges of the turbulent waves crashing around in there. 

Even though, normally, you’d rather die than let anyone see you like this, you agreed. 

Fine. But only because I missed you, you stupid bat. 

Love you too, sis. 

You closed the journal and tucked it beneath one thigh, adjusting the blanket you’d brought down with you so it’s fully covering the little book. It didn’t take long before you heard his light footsteps descending the stairs. Using the back of your hand, you wiped away the lingering moisture in your eyes and then straightened in your seat. 

“Skipping my welcome home dinner?” He asked as he approached your little reading nook, a lazy grin and raised eyebrows painted on his face. 

You scoffed, careful to keep your journal hidden as you stood up to throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. His wings closed around the two of you and you’re grateful for the extra pressure against your back. 

“I missed you too,” he muttered into your hair, pulling your face tight to his chest. 

The two of you stood there for a long time; Rhys could always sense when you needed something steady to hold onto. He claims it started before he even knew he had a sister, that sometimes late at night he could hear muffled sobs echoing in the back of his mind. That a gaunt little girl trapped under the mountain haunted his dreams for years before he was allowed to visit.

His father made sure he stayed away. 

But as Rhys settled into his powers and got full control of them, he was able to establish a stable connection. It took a while before you trusted him; after all, you grew up with your mother telling you that the High Lord and his heir despised you. 

Your sire, as Mother called him, had thrown her under the Mountain as soon as he found out she was pregnant. Set her up with a place to stay and not much else; you had a new stepfather every few years, and each one was worse than the last. The Black Widow, they called her, as her husbands had a habit of dying in unfortunate accidents. 

As adults, you and Rhys were closer than most siblings, even those that grew up together. Unfortunately, that meant you had no choice but to get your shit together because running away was not an option. 

“Wanna tell me why my General looks like a kicked puppy?” Rhys murmured into your hair. You felt the bond clench, tugging on your heart, and groan against your brother’s chest. 

He ran a comforting hand up and down your back and you signed, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep what happened a secret for much longer, what with all the meddling busybodies you surrounded yourself with.

“We fought,” you muttered. “I’ve been avoiding him ever since.” 

“And what, pray tell, did you fight about?” 

You lifted your head, eyes glistening in the low candlelight as you blinked up at your brother. Heaving a sigh, you tell him everything that happened while he was gone. As soon as you opened your mouth, the words spilled out of you like they’d been waiting for the opportunity to escape. 

Rhys had to stifle a chuckle when you finished your story because he loved you, but Mother above, you could be so stupid sometimes. 

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighed, tugging you closer. He rested his chin on the top of your head and tugged on the ends of your hair with one hand. 

You batted it away, groaning again. 

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do because I know you hate that,” he started, negating your protests before they had a chance to form. “But I think you need to talk to him. Unless you plan on avoiding him for the rest of your life, you’re going to need to work things out one way or another.” 

“I could defect to another Court, I hear Summer’s wonderful this time of year.” Rhys shoved you towards the front of the library, ruffling your hair. 

“Talk to him, you insufferable brat.” 

—

It was surprisingly easy to find Cassian. He nearly knocked you over with the force of his pacing as you rounded the corner into the hallway leading to the kitchen and dining room. 

“Oh, Y/N, hi,” he said, one arm bending to scratch the back of his neck. You could just barely make out a hint of red on the apples of his cheeks, though his tanned skin does a good job of trying to hide it. 

“Hey, Cassie,” you said. His name came out breathier than you intended. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.” Cas was quiet, clearly ready to let you say what you needed to say. He leaned against the wall, nodding at you to keep going. After a deep breath, you did. “I’m sorry for being so rude and dramatic. The bond snapped for me a while ago, and I let the pent-up jealousy and bitterness get to me. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’ll try to be better about keeping my thoughts to myself in the future. Just because we’re bonded doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be with me. Whatever you choose, I’ll respect your decision, I promise.” 

He smirked, pushed away from the wall, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you standing there alone and confused. 

A minute later, he was back with a giant cookie clutched in one hand; your favorite. It was a little burnt around the edges, but smells perfect. He closed the distance between the two of you in three long strides, wrapping his free arm around your waist. 

“It’s you, it’s always been you, Y/N,” he breathed, leaning in until his lips hovered over yours for a few long, deliciously agonizing seconds before he pushed forward and captured them in a searing kiss.  

You respond, startled but thrilled, and get lost in each other. He pulls away and holds the cookie to your lips, and you almost bite into it before remembering where you are then take a step back with your cheeks oozing heat, pushing his hand down to his ease the temptation rising from your core, into your chest, and up your throat. After four years of lying dormant, the bond threatened to take control of your body. 

“We should probably go somewhere a bit more.. private,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the thought of someone, Mother forbid your brother, interrupting the frenzy. 

Cassian growled. Going to the cottage, he said to Rhys, melting his mental shields down just enough to let the message flow between their minds. 

Does this mean..? Rhys’s response is hesitant but hopeful.  

Yes, Cassian’s response is gruff. Keep everyone away. I reserve the right to tear any intruders limb from limb. 

He shut the connection, cutting Rhys off mid-cackle. His threat was genuine. Even just the idea of the frenzy has him boiling through his skin. 

Cas scooped you into his arms and took off running down the hallway. As soon as you burst through the back door, he pushed off and then you were soaring through the sky towards Windhaven. 

Towards your future with your mate.

Taglist: @esahintzkanen @loving-and-dreaming @lisanna2000 @jollyflowerkitty @graciepies @evergreenlark @Maewritez @aurorab99 @pescipiccanti @elissanatok @vanserrasimp @mich0731 @juniperberriesaries @sandramalikstyles @ivy-34 @thecraziestcrayon @pey2618

[slytherin-pen]

Mama’s Boy

pairing: Azriel and his mother

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of past abuse and violence

tags: mentions of Elriel, some backstory lore, Azriel is mad at Rhys

summary: After his fight with Rhys, Azriel retreats to the one place he can find peace—Rosehall. There, we meet his mother Eve.

a/n: sooo, i’m three days late for @nameless-acotar-weekend but listen—i did my best. also, i’m super excited about this one! i took this as an opportunity to flesh out some of my headcanons/theories regarding these two. i’m also trying to work on writing more of the small details and i think i did that. i hope you enjoy!

The Illyrian Steppes were quiet this time of year. A spring wind rustled the grass, the air crisp and sharp due to the altitude. Azriel soared above it all, his shadows trailing behind him as he approached the only place in the world that could offer him peace right now. Rosehall.

It was nestled far from the camps, warded so that only he and whoever he allowed could see it—much less enter.

Azriel landed softly on the dirt path before the estate. He barely had time to fold his wings before the cats came.

A blur of color and fur streaked toward him—tabbies, greys, calicos, and the one black tom who always yowled like he was swearing. Azriel knelt as they surrounded him, sniffing his boots, batting at the shadows that danced around his legs. He felt a rare smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

The door opened before he could knock.

Eve stood there in a soft blue tunic that clung to her slim frame, the sleeves rolled up signifying she had either been cooking or gardening. Her black hair was pinned back in a simple twist, and her wings drooped behind her. Azriel briefly wondered if there would ever be a day he didn’t blame himself for being unable to protect her. But her eyes, hazel and so familiar to his own, softened the moment she saw him.

“My boy,” she breathed.

Azriel’s throat tightened. “Hi, Mama.”

She moved forward, taking his face in her hands. She didn’t flinch when his scarred hands came up to cover hers. He’d stopped expecting that flinch years ago, but it still shocked him when it didn’t come. “You didn’t say you were coming.”

“Needed to see you,” he murmured.

Her brow furrowed. Despite the years they missed out on together, she could always read him like a book. “Something happened.”

He only nodded.

She stepped aside to let him in. The scent of roasting lamb and wild herbs hit him immediately. The estate was warm and alive, a fire burning brightly in the hearth behind the screen. Jars of pickled vegetables littered the shelves in the kitchen and dried herbs hung from the ceiling. Bolts of cloth were stacked in corners. Half-finished dresses hung from racks scattered around the room. And the cats who had followed them inside perched on the couch, coffee table, and windowsills as they watched him with flicking tails.

His mother pointed toward the couch in front of the hearth. “Sit. You’re pale.”

“I can’t be pale, Mama. I’m Illyrian,” he replied with a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t argue with your mother Azriel Donnall,” she scolded.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, chuckling softly.

Azriel unbuttoned his jacket and sat on the couch in front of the fire, resting his arms on his knees. One of the cats, a cream-colored puff ball of a thing, leaped into his lap without invitation. He began to stroke her head with his hand.

Eve returned to the kitchen, where she stirred something in a tall iron pot. “Did you eat?”

“No ma’am.”

“Good thing I make enough to feed an army, then,” she said in a light, sing-song voice.

He watched her in silence for a while, letting the tension bleed from his shoulders as the smell of garlic and spice filled the room. He hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been until he stepped into this place. Into her quiet, protected world.

“Rhys gave me an order,” he said eventually.

She turned her head but kept stirring. “What kind?”

He twisted his scarred hands in his lap despite the cat nudging them with her head, begging for more pets. “To stay away from someone I care about.”

Her stirring slowed.

“I kissed her,” he continued. “And he said to stay away from her.”

His mother said nothing for a long moment, then tilted her head as she asked, “Did she want you?”

“Yes.”

“And did you hurt her?”

“No.”

“Then he has no right,” she said, her face scrunching up in anger. It wasn’t a face Azriel saw very often. For many years he didn’t think his mother was capable of such emotion. Thought it was too deeply associated with his father, Fergus, for her to allow herself to feel such a thing—much less express it.

But one night he came barreling in through the door after a half-ass job of stitching himself up in his Velaris apartment—empty save for the few supplies and furniture items needed in emergencies like those—that she’d properly scolded him for the first time in his five hundred and sixty years of life. Her brows and nose had scrunched like they were now and her face had turned red as a tomato as she lectured him on taking proper care of himself. And on not letting Rhys overwork him, but they both knew that wouldn’t change, not unless another Shadowsinger appeared.

Her ranting had quickly ended when he had whispered that he just wanted his mother. She’d cooed at him and taken his hand, leading him to the dining room where she redid his stitches, fed him, and then sent him off to bed.

Nights like that didn’t happen often, the guilt Azriel felt too strong in normal circumstances for him to allow her to coddle him in such a way. The tables have turned now, and it was his turn to take care of her. But when he was vulnerable like that night, and tonight, he allowed her to be the mother she never got to be without fuss. To make sure he was fed, to kiss his boo-boos, and check on him throughout the night—though she didn’t know he knew about that part.

Azriel exhaled shakily. “He’s trying to protect his family.”

“And who protects you, Azriel?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Who protects my boy?”

“I don’t need protection, Mama. I am a grown male, with multiple methods of defending myself.” He sighed. “She has a mate. She doesn’t want him but…he wants her. And Rhys is worried about the consequences that may follow should he choose to fight for her.”

His mother huffed indignantly. “While I may understand where he’s coming from in a diplomatic sense, a mating bond is not law. Especially if it hasn’t been consummated.” She raised a singular brow at him in question, and after he gave a brief nod, she continued. “That’s what I thought. Mother only knows what decides who is mated to who, and we’ve seen firsthand how incompatible some mates can be.”

Azriel scrubbed at his face, both in frustration and in an effort to remove the cat fur that was starting to tickle his nose.

“I know, Mama. But trying to tell Rhys that is like talking to a brick wall. His mating bond is something straight out of a fairytale. They’re perfect for each other. He’s so high on the happy hormones he can’t think straight.”

“Well,” his mother sighed, “just give it time for now. Maybe he will eventually see the error of his ways—however, that is doubtful. But maybe something will change between the two of them. Whether that be breaking the bond or…”

Azriel nodded solemnly.

“Dinners ready,” she called, thankfully changing the subject.

At the table were dishes containing fluffy rice, roasted lamb with garlic and figs, and warm flatbread brushed with butter and herbs. She sat beside him at the dining table, handing him his napkin and silverware like he was still her child and not one of the most feared males on the continent.

“Eat,” she murmured. “And then you’ll sleep.”

He did. He ate every bite. He helped her clean up after despite her swatting him with a dish towel, and when she nudged him toward the spare room that had been turned into his, he relented. He was asleep within minutes, curled beneath a patchwork quilt that smelled like lilac and woodsmoke.

Azriel woke to the sound of birdsong and soft humming. When he stepped out into the living room, he could see his mother was already in the garden through the living room window. She had a woven basket looped over one arm and a small trowel in the other, a few of the cats following her every move.

The goats roamed nearby, grazing on the grass and wildflowers. The chickens were still in their coop, but he could hear the roosters waking up to start their day—and everyone else’s within a five mile radius.

He stepped off the front porch steps, rolling up his sleeves. “What can I do?”

Eve handed him the basket. “Pick the ripe potatoes. And the mint. The rest we can leave another day.”

He did as asked, enjoying the silence between them. There was no need to talk. Not here. She moved between rows of herbs and vegetables with ease, nimble despite the wings that hung like broken branches behind her.

“They don’t hurt anymore,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“My wings. I thought they always would. But they stopped.” She straightened, wiping dirt on her pants. “They still feel wrong, but they don’t ache constantly, only when it’s really cold.”

Azriel swallowed. “I’m glad.”

She looked at him, long and steady. “You were only two when they took you to the dungeons. And then when you were eleven you were sent to the camps and I thought I’d never see you again,” her voice cracked at the end.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know.”

“And decades later when you brought me here, I didn’t know how to be your mother anymore.”

“You learned,” he assured her, smiling ruefully.

A tear slipped down her cheek and he sent a shadow to wipe it away.

They resumed harvesting in silence, the spring breeze ruffling their hair. And Azriel, not for the first time, wondered what it would be like to stay here. He usually only stayed for a few days at a time, always having to rush off to his duties as Spymaster. Maybe in another world, he got to live with his mother. Got to be raised by her. Instead, he had to keep her hidden away like a princess in a tower for her comfort and safety.

His father and stepbrothers were, unfortunately, still alive. He’d like to think the beating he and his brothers gave them would deter them from ever trying to hurt his mother again, but he could never be too careful. Not with her.

Fergus, Uilleam, and làcob had been a type of cruel he still hasn’t come across again in his centuries of being the Night Court torturer. Even his stepmother, Dara, had been a piece of work. And though he and his brothers did not lay a hand on her, her screams of fear after witnessing what he had done to her husband and children that day told him she got the message.

So he keeps as much of his mother’s whereabouts a secret as possible, and that includes not visiting often or staying too long in case he is trailed. He doesn’t even tell his brothers much about her. They know she exists, and they know he visits her, but that is the extent of their knowledge. And he will keep it that way—until the rivers run dry, the moon turns blue, and Hel freezes over—because the more people who knew, the more danger she was in.

By mid-morning, the sun had warmed the earth and Eve had opened the front windows to let in the breeze. Azriel helped her move a display table outside, setting it up beneath the shade of a birch tree.

“Today’s trade day?” he asked.

Eve nodded. “Yes. The girls are coming.”

The “girls” were a loose collection of females from nearby hills and hidden cottages. Survivors, all of them. Some bore the scars of escaping their abusive husbands or families, others just had that hollow look in their eyes that he had seen too often in his mother. But here, at Rosehall, they were vibrant. Whole. Eve had given them that.

They arrived at noon with jars of honey, wool, bundles of soap, and bolts of cloth. They greeted Azriel with smiles and nods, some whispering behind their hands. It took some of them decades to become comfortable around him, but they learned to trust him as Eve’s son and not fear him as the Shadowsinger.

He watched as the females traded goods and gossip, tried on new cloaks, and stitched hems right there in the grass. One brought Eve a fruit cake, another a bottle of berry wine. The females smiled and laughed with each other, Azriel’s mother shining the brightest of them all.

Azriel smiled more that day than he had in months. Seeing his mother like this, in her element, in company that loved and appreciated her almost as much as he did, warmed his cold, dead heart.

When the sun dipped low, and the females gathered their things, Eve hugged each one like a sister. Then she returned to the house, her eyes alight.

“You’re staying for dinner,” she told him, bracing her hands on the archway to the kitchen.

Azriel turned from where he was adjusting the logs in the fire. “I wasn’t planning to leave yet.”

“Good.”

She made a stew with lentils, root vegetables, and chicken with a side of bread. They ate on the porch, listening to the goats and chickens wandering around the property. Several cats were draped over the railing or sprawled out on the wooden planks soaking up the last rays of the sun.

After dinner, she sat beside him on the porch swing with a needle and thread, repairing one of his tunics.

“You don’t have to—”

“Hush. Let me do this. I never got to patch your clothes when you were small,” she said with a small smile, but there was emotion swimming in her eyes, and a hint of pleading.

So he let her.

And when she brushed his hair back with gentle fingers, the way she used to when he was too bruised to move, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let himself lean into his mother’s touch. Savor it. His eyes closed on their own accord and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

That night, Azriel stood beneath the stars, looking out at the moonlit mountain. Eve joined him, wrapping a blanket around her thin shoulders.

“Are you going to stay angry at Rhys forever?” she asked as she stood next to him.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his shadows swirling around him. “No. But I needed space.”

“And will you go to her? This girl?”

He was silent.

Eve stepped closer. “You were never a mistake, Azriel. Not even in that house. You were the only thing that saved me.”

His throat burned. “I just want to be enough for someone.”

“Oh, my sweet boy,” she said, her voice thick with sadness. “You are. You were always enough. They were just too blind to see it.”

She pulled him close then, one clipped wing curling around him. “You are my heart, Azriel. My brave, beautiful boy.”

He closed his eyes. He would deal with the mess revolving around Elain and Rhys when he returned to Velaris, but for now, he would soak in every moment of peace with his mother. Because despite their immortality, there wasn’t enough time in the world to make up for the childhood they both lost.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

I enjoyed your food and eating habits thoughts for Matt and Alfred as it's a nice little insight into their everyday lifestyle and mannerisms <3 Any thoughts on Arthur "forgets to eat until his stomach growls and his hands shake" Kirkland and Jack and Zee? Or for the UK bros or Francis if that more takes your fancy? <3 Thank you!

Rhys is a really good cook. Bara brith, Welsh rarebit, cawl, laverbread. The man knows what he's about. He's the second youngest in my set up but still a good deal older than Arthur so he grows up in a world where his mother is literally worshipped as a goddess. I put her right smack on the middle of a giant pile of tin which was famously the best and highest quality stuff in a world where it was desperately needed to create bronze. He grows up in stone wheelhouses with defensive towers set inside a ring fort and with that came a correspondingly decent diet. High protein, wealth being often valued less in cash than in cattle. Maman is importing gold from Ireland and wine from southern France and Greek trade goods are found. He suffers a lot of misery and violence as a young adult and that does affect his tastes in food but he never loses sight of the fact it should actually taste good. He's definitely a bit heavy on the pies and stews and he hasn't been able to entirely reconcile himself to the fact that it no longer a bit suspect of people who are wealthy enough to afford meat to not eat meat. The man has opinions on food. Lamb, mutton, leeks, cheese. He can have a conversation about it, okay. And he's very particular about how he enjoys said food. and not to dip too deep into the stereotypes but god fucking bless the Welsh for exporting the leek. The Anglo-Celtic diaspora owe a debt we will never be able to repay for the one goddamn allium that Brits seemed to actually like pre-war. He's definitely someone who's moods will be affected by when he last ate and how the food was and food is a pretty big love language for him. When he's trying to shack up with the neighbors in Brittany or Jersey or Manx the food is definitely an incentive to stay for breakfast.

Arthur for me is really interesting because he knows how to make decent food. He knows what makes food taste decent. He's had a feasting culture his entire fricken existence before 1800. Where you lose him is when trying to convince him food should taste good most if not all of the time. The Roman or perhaps slightly post roman world he's born to and raised in is one where luxury goods are coming in with spices and new vegetables and fruits are being introduced so he's had flavour from the very fucking beginning but still entirely regards it as optional. Food as a pleasure is almost alien in his brain for some reason. Late antiquity wasn't a great time for him but the slingshot extremism between everything has to be flavored with all the spices and um actually, food that tastes good is illegal is just so variable with this one. England is lush and fertile and there's no shortage of food at any point in history worse than the neighbors but you wouldn't fucken know it the way Arthur eats and hates joy. I think his outsized amount of power as an adult contributes to this habit of 'oh I'll just ride the extra battery pack that is being the weird patron saint of a rainy third of Great Britain. Wait, what do you mean I have to season my fucken food? And when that's behind him after WW2, he's increasingly irritated by the fact calories are indeed mandatory to survive. Man's taste buds never recovered from rationing in too many ways. Last 30 years he's kind of slipped towards enjoying food. The man has discovered garlic powder exists at least. Only trouble there is that now he experiments and god have mercy on his loved ones bowels. Plum sauce does not go in the spagbol please and thank you.

Zee is... More like her father than she'd like to admit. She really can be perfectly content with a cheese and marmite toastie and a cup of tea. Or one of her best inventions, instant coffee. She's got higher standards in that she generally prefers her food to be edible which is not something the medieval fucks listed above will always care about. She really really likes the act of eating as a social thing. Hangi made together in a large group, women gathered in the kitchen to make things like whitebait fritters and roasted muttonbird. She almost never ever, even when she is entitled to by one status or another took her food in her room and was always at breakfast in the morning. She always eats with people when she can. Food is almost more of an action or event to her than just personal pleasure. She's got a real weakness for fresh fruit. Just consumes batshit amounts of berries. Looking at her grocery bill is probably very funny because it's like, six items she'll rotate out for a fortnight at a time and then a fucken pile of expensive produce. Extremely fond of fish in general as well. She can cook but if anyone else present wants to take point, fine by her. She's very happy to perch on Jack's kitchen counter/bench and drink his good wine while he cooks. She might be described as slightly picky in some specific aspects especially when seafood is involved but she's really not going to have her entire life derailed because whatever her last meal wasn't great. When she was little, she didn't mind a boiled pudding or porridge for breakfast as long as it wasn't completely god awful. She's fonder of like the classic tea room sweet pastries than she'd like to admit and she's got a serious weakness for weird flavors of chocolate like a buttered toast chocolate bar and pineapple lumps. Food can be a tool of survival to her no problem, even if it's not great as well. Generally, she remembers to eat.

Jack cares a lot about food. In the immortal words of @paperbarks he's got the accent of a gold coast Hoon but the taste buds and pickiness of a Barossa sommelier. He's got that golden Mediterranean-esque climate. Sugar grows, mangos grow, finger limes are everywhere, stone fruit is plentiful. Jack wants food to taste excellent all of the time. That's not to say he's picky as in he's not going to absolutely demolish a meat pie or a chiko roll or douse his fries in chicken salt because he absolutely is but he'll genuinely ponder what wine goes best with that and how to keep Zee from drinking it all before he's even plated up dinner. His moods get absolutely fucking foul when he doesn't eat too. He's the second youngest and generally pretty chill and doesn't take all that much seriously but when he's hungry or something is genuinely shit, no one's having a good time. It was a struggle keeping his ass completely fed when he was young and food was seasonal and gonna suck a good part of the year. By far, he's the person most likely to complain about food in any given time. Also my god he can make a good cup of coffee. Chronic snacker too. All of them have some pretty serious appetites but he's probably up there tied with anyone else.

[the-widow-olivia]

Saw that Rhys Darby was going to be in an episode of Night Court, and I got really concerned for any Night Court fans out there who have no idea that there is a flotilla of pirates about to descend on them.

So I made a helpful guide we can give to fans of other shows when OFMD cast members show up.

So your favorite TV show has cast an OFMD actor!

Hello! It's us, the friendly queer pirate crew, here to enjoy your television program alongside you. We don't bite (and even if we do, it usually sets off a hilarious chain of events that ends in a lovely wedding).

You may notice at some point during our time together that one or more OFMD fans will begin foaming at the mouth or melting into the floor as though they have no bones. This is perfectly normal, as all OFMD fans suffer from a severe form of brain rot previously only found in goats.

However, be warned, the following "normal" items may cause ferality in OFMD fans:

- Oranges (petrified or regular)

- The color teal

- The color purple

- The color black

- The color red

- Fuck it, all the colors. We own colors now.

- Goldfish

- Cats

- Seagulls

- Snakes

- Beanies

- Gloves

- Cake (can be combined with oranges)

- Garlic

- Soup

- Garlic soup

- Legs (pronounced "ligs")

- Eyes (“EYEEE!” however, will just make us laugh)

If an OFMD fan becomes a little too feral, you can soothe them by playing Gnossienne No. 5 and putting a blanket over their head until they calm down. Note: Results may vary if said fan is in “clowning” mode.

OFMD fans are a friendly bunch, but we are often socially anxious. Here are a few phrases you can practice at home if you want to befriend an OFMD fan:

“Wow, that Rhys Darby sure has nice legs.”

“That WJW with Con O’Neill got me right in the feels.”

“Our Flag Means Death deserves a third season and all the Emmys.”

Anyhoo, we’re delighted to be here enjoying TV with you, and you are all invited to Calypso’s next birthday. (BYO bathtub)

❤️

The Crew

[asgoodeasgold]

"This is gonna blow your knickers off"

(Trigger warning: if you are Italian, look away now!). When Matthew cooked a bolognese ragù with Ketchup and Oxo cubes 😱 (and other non-authentic items like garlic and herbs) to the dismay of the Italian ladies watching him and Matthew Rhys compete.

Their gasps of horror and disapproving looks every time an unconventional ingredient went in were hilarious. Verdict: "this is interesting" (but not Italian 🤣). Absolutely hilarious (and also very sweet, Matthew was cooking his mama's recipe 🥹). And as usual, the two Matthews were uproarious.

I love a goode bromance

Okaaay, we are in for a treat 🤣

These two are so 💝

If you think tomato paste is shocking, brace yourself

I think that's enough to get you thrown into jail in Italy.

That's called "adding insult to injury."

I think the wine is supposed to go in the sauce Goodey.

They are being polite. But I am sure they love you, you charming, crazy man.

Yeah, may be you are not wrong... or at the very least forever banned from setting foot in Italy.

I wonder why that could be 🤔

You think Rhyssy?

Ah yes, it was the wrong kind of ketchup 🤦🏻‍♀️

Some pics (adorable)

📷 The Wine Show (2016) s1:08 my edits

[rosanna-writer]

Good morning my darling dearest, I am really hungry right now so I have an important question. What are the ACOTAR characters ordering at the bagel shop?

Hello my love, if you want only Very Correct Bagel Opinions, you've come to the right place. I'm going to break this up for readability because I have a lot say <3

The IC:

Feyre - will eat literally anything, no definitive bagel order

Rhysand - any type as long as they can be described as "artisanal"

Amren - the bagel shop keeps some blood in the back for her

Mor - unfortunately, she has terrible taste and goes for blueberry :/

Cassian - scooped bagels because he's got issues re:carbs he needs to work out with a therapist

Azriel - whatever day old bagels are on sale because that's all the sadboi thinks he deserves

The Valkyries:

Nesta - garlic bagel, she's a woman of taste

Gwyn - her only experience with bagels is the crappy ones that get ordered for academic lectures in the library 😔

Emerie - warrior cottagecore queen, bakes her own

The Band of Exiles:

Lucien - asiago cheese, but like Rhys, prefers them "artisanal"

Jurian - something a bit out there, like pumpernickel or egg bagels, he's a weird dude

Vassa - idk she gives sesame seed energy

Misc:

Elain - she's in her sourdough era!

The Suriel - knows everything, therefore the only choice is an everything bagel #maximalism

Bryaxis - unclear, did not get a chance to try a bagel before being released from the library basement and is now missing so who knows?

Alis - salt bagel maybe?

Clotho - splits the poppyseed bagels with Merrill when the priestesses have brunch events

Ressina - thinks rainbow bagels are a thing (they're not) because she lives in the Rainbow. is confused when the bagel shop tells her they don't carry them

Balthazar - keeps track of whatever Feyre gets and just goes with that because he lives in perpetual fear of incurring the wrath of Feyre Cursebreaker

Eris - he's lowkey evil so pumpkin spice. this man has problems, ok? he eats pumpkin spice bagels and you cannot fix him

[ailoda]

10 things for 10 people you'd like to know better

last song: dtmf - bad bunny

last book: i think it was either wild sargasso sea by jean rhys or a welsh book called blasu by manon steffan ros.

last movie: a difficult one - it’s been so long! i think my last movie was home alone at christmas time🎄

last tv show: difficult to say as i tend to mix between a few at a time, especially if i’ve watched them more than once. currently, the rotation is a mix of downton abbey, bloodhounds (korean series), hidden love (chinese series), mr. plankton (korean series), and derry girls. a lot, i know, but my brain needs the variety!

sweet/savory/spicy: definitely a big savoury person, but i lean a bit sweet depending on the time of the month or if i’m sad.

relationship status: very much single and very much happy about it, save for the lack of physical affection (someone just gimme a hug lie on me to make me feel something).

last thing i googled: nhs job vacancies

current obsession: creamy garlic mushrooms, dairylea dunkers, below deck, bad bunny’s new album, nesting (basically where i add a load of throws and blankets to my bed and make a cocoon, all wrapped up warm like a cozy slug, and watch / read).

looking forward to: my weighted blanket delivery sometime this week, and the creamy garlic mushroom and chicken pasta i’m going to make tomorrow (and the rest of the meals i’ve planned for this week).

Thank you for tagging me, @sometimesanalice! So much love to you, forever and always, my darling <3

No pressure tags! (so sorry if you’re not interested / have already done this): @crescenthistory @agreeeeeeeeeee @aquaticmercy @mugglebornmarvelite @reysdriver @fayes-fics

[ofmdrecaps]

07/03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Ruibo Qian; Dominic Burgess; Samba Schutte; Logie Awards; AdoptOurCrew; Auxillery Wardrobe Zine; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlight Cont'd; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

New month, new blog! Thanks everyone, as you probably can tell there's a new blog for the recaps! I'm doing this to allow for some more silly shenanigans to happen on my main, but also keep the recaps available and more easily accessible to those who want them! For the first few weeks I'll be reblogging them from main, but then will eventually move to just here so as not to overwhelm anyone following. Thanks so much for reading! I love doing these and I was actually surprised how many people followed! I didn't realize so many people were reading, so tysm that warms my heart and made my day!

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys will be join Baron Vaughn and Rory Scovel on AfterMidnight with Taylor Tomlinson on July 8th, 3 PM PST in Los Angelos, CA! Are you in the area? You can request tickets on their website!

Source: 1iota's Instagram

Next up-- Peacock has posted an exclusive clip of the upcoming The Hungry Games: Alaska's Big Bear Challenge-- starring the voice of our very own Rhys Darby!

== Taika Waititi ==

Awesome new promo for Time Bandits! I'm gonna keep reminding you because I'm actually super psyched for this. July 24th on Apple TV!

Source: Matt_Grace_Photography

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie out with the LA Sparks! <3 Also, did you know Leslie will be voicing a character in the New Hulu series Hit Monkey? I didn't know! New seasons starts July 15th!

Source: LA Sparks IG / JoshuaGordon

== Ruibo Qian ==

Our Pirate Queen is going to be taking on the role of Ms. Sherlock Holmes in Ms.Holmes & Ms.Watson in APT 2B at the Old Globe Theatre in San Deigo CA! You can buy tickets for July 27th, opening day -- or any of the showings here!

Source: OldGlobeTheatre Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic is gracing us once again with cat pics. I love it <3

Source: Dominic Burgess' Twitter

== Samba Schutte ==

More pictures with Samba at Dancing with Fire LA with the cast / crew of Advanced Chemistry!

Source: alecmoore219's Instagram

== Logie Award Nominations ==

REMINDER! Our beloved Mads, aka Eddie Redcliffe in Deadloch, aka The Baddest MF in Tasmania, has been nominated for a 2024 Logie for Best Lead Actress! So was Kate Box, her costar, and Deadloch was nominated for Best Scripted Comedy Program!

-- and guess what? It's done by vote! If you feel so inclined, please take a moment to go and vote for our dear Archie/Deadloch (or Dulcie whomever you'd like)! https://vote.tvweeklogies.com.au/ Note: You do need to use your email to submit, just FYI!

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Looks like something exciting will be coming soon from @adoptourcrew! I think I might have an idea what it may be related to...

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine ==

There's a new non-profit charity zine starting up-- in honor of our beloved Captain Stede and OFMD!

"From his flamboyant coats to his sword-slashed shirts, we want to celebrate EVERY way that Stede and fashion come together! Whether this be a canon look you're fond of, his job as a luxury fashion designer in an AU, or Stede in a style of clothing you personally love (or lack of clothing… pinups anyone?!) we encourage contributors to make this prompt their own. This zine will be a digital-only PDF and will consist of a SFW edition and a NSFW edition featuring fanart and fanfic. All proceeds for the zine will go to Care for Gaza."

Want to learn more? You can visit their carrd.co below for scheduling and FAQ's!

Info & FAQ: https://auxiliarywardrobezine.carrd.co

Artist & Writer Signups will start July 6, 2024!

Follow them on Instagram and Twitter!

Source: The Auxiliary Wardrobe: A Stede Bonnet Zine

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlights ==

Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week may be over, but that doesn't mean the spotlights have to end! Tonight we have the fantastic @hameko1019! I absolutely adore her style and use of color! You can check her work out on Hameko1019's Twitter! Thank you again to @garlicsoupweek for the wonderful prompts!

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Bonus

Source: Hameko1019's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast card by our fantastic @melvisik is Jordan Feldman who "was listed as 'Heavily Made-Up Man' in The Best Revenge is Dressing Well."

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Well lovelies, you've made it half way through another week. Only half more to go-- for those of you in the UK, good luck at the elections! For those in the US, tomorrow is July 4th, and while I know there are mixed feelings this year in the US, please remember to take some time to relax and enjoy a day off if you have it.

You're doing so very well friends. There is SO much going on in the world, so much going on in the fandom, so much going on in your lives. But you are still kicking, and I'm so very proud of you for that. If you need to take a break-- do it. Give yourself some grace and get some rest, the world will still be there in a few days. If you've already done that and you're taking some time to yourself-- great job-- you deserve it. Remember that we will still be here, and we will still love you when you get back. Ed and Stede? Still in love when you get back. They're off terrorising some poor patron of their Inn with stories of being gut stabbed, or forcing them to watch a puppet show they came up with.

You're kicking ass at whatever struggles you are dealing with right now-- give yourself time to celebrate the fact you're surviving them. Rest well lovelies, see you soon <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is these two goof balls singing. Someone help me find Taika singing Queen, cause then we'll have some gif smushes <3 Tonight's gifs courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset and @eddie-redcliffe!!

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hey if you’re taking prompts would you do Nesta finally telling Cassian about Tomas and him comforting her?

To kill two birds with one stone... Nessian snippet. TW for sexual assault.

...

‘You could try being nicer.’

One word. Three letters. Try. Hadn’t she tried enough?

Cassian shrugged. ‘I’m just saying they’re used to their females being meek and looking at the ground rather than staring directly in their eyes. You don’t have to be their friends, just be a bit nicer and don’t take everything they say as an insult.’

That familiar flare of her nostrils came as her knife sliced through a tomato for dinner. ‘I’m sorry aren’t these the same males you said you wished you could push off a cliff?’

‘That was last week. Now, we are in Illyria playing peacemakers so be nice.’

‘I was nice to somebody once who didn’t deserve it. Never again, Cassian.’

The grating tone of her voice had Cassian pausing from peeling cloves of garlic. He glanced sidelong at her, worry furrowing his dark brow.

‘Who?’

Nesta pushed the tomatoes to the edge of the chopping board then attacked the onion with more force than it warranted. ‘Are you asking me for a list of people that I’ve ever been nice to?’

‘No. I’m asking who has made you clench that knife so hard that your knuckles are white.’

Suddenly, Cassian wasn’t her mate anymore. They weren’t in an isolated cabin in Illyria with only the wild, rugged nature for company. She was a mortal receiving a faerie general in her bedroom, waiting expectantly for a letter from her estranged sister. Cassian had crossed the room that day and she had dared to brush her body against his, to press her hand against his chest. Then the memory of Tomas had threatened to drown her and Cassian – somehow – had recognised that brief moment of blind fear. He had held her wrist to his body, demanding to know who had caused that terror to flare behind her eyes. Cassian hadn’t even known her then. But he’d have found Tomas and made him pay.

‘I’m not hungry,’ she declared, releasing the knife and leaving Cassian to prepare a dinner alone.

It took Cassian all of three minutes to follow her up the stairs, move her away from the dresser, and sit her on the edge of the bed. It groaned under his heavy weight as he settled beside her.

‘We’ve had this conversation many times, Nes. You need to open the door, not shut me out.’

‘Why do you care?’

‘Because you know more about my five hundred years than I know about your twenty.’ His knuckles grazed her cheek. ‘Were you talking about Rhys?’

‘My life doesn’t resolve around Rhysand.’

She tried to stand, but Cassian slunk his arm around her waist, pinning her. ‘Tell me.’

‘It was my fault,’ she said, voice as brittle as she felt. ‘I was nice to him. And look where it got me.’

‘Who?’

She forced a breath out from between her pursed lips. It was a wound she’d avoided looking at, even when it ached and pulsed.

‘Why do you still hide from me? You’ve been my mate for a year. Why do you think I won’t support you?’

Nesta couldn’t look at the kindness in his eyes. She still struggled with these declarations because Cassian was always genuine. He would always give rather than take. Her fingers edged closer to his then tangled with them.

‘A boy from the village. There were no options for girls like us – poor girls with no dowry. I was beautiful and untouched but that was all I had to offer. Tomas was poor too. Not as bad as we were, but not rich by any means – not like Graysen. Feyre warned me off of him but then she left.’

Then it fell to Nesta to figure out a way to feed her and Elain’s starving bellies. If she had known that Tamlin would have sent a treasury of gems and jewels, Nesta never would have been nice to Tomas.

‘He hunted like Feyre in the woods. After she’d gone, he caught up with me once and offered to walk me home. I would have said no. I never let boys walk me home. But he had two pheasants hanging in his hand and we were starving. So I was nice to him. I smiled at everything he said, batted my eyelashes when he complimented me, and told him at the end I’d hope to see him again.’ Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘The next day, he brought me a dead pheasant. What a catch.’

Cassian shrugged his shoulders. ‘You did what you needed to so that you were both fed. It’s not the end of the world.’

‘Tomas continued to court me - small walks so I wouldn’t be sequestered in that awful cottage with my father. His mother was often bruised, but I hoped that Tomas was not like his father. If I married him and left then maybe father would do something to feed his precious Elain and I would have a husband to take care of me. But Tomas could speak cruelly about other villagers. He would laugh at the elderly when they struggled, would sneer at the poorest children. I don’t know if he thought it would impress me.’

The walks became insufferable. She began to dread the knock at the door. Any other man would have spoken to her father to gain his permission, would have been polite, would have ensured they had an escort. Any decent or proper man would have.

The more time that they spent in each other’s company, the more Nesta despised him. She had to listen to his insufferable arrogance in exchange for a lump of stringy meat. Had to listen to him talk about the other girls in the village as if he was comparing cattle. It became apparent that, rather than being his father’s opposite, he was moulding Tomas into something worse than him.

Then he had tried to kiss Nesta.

He’d grabbed her suddenly at the edge of the narrow path leading to their cottage.

It had happened so quickly that Nesta barely had enough time to swoop her head upwards. Tomas’ lips had clattered against her jaw. The flush on her face had not been from modesty but sheer mortification that Tomas would dare to grab her like a possession and stake a claim on her without proper courting or permission. Nesta had feigned shyness, but had seethed that night in bed beside Elain. She had barely slept through anger.

‘I was nice to him, Cassian, and do you know what he did?’  

Nesta remembered her mother’s teachings. Always smile and agree with what the men say. Never show anger because a man can always match it and then some. Be palatable. Be agreeable. Be nothing at all - except his.

In the square, where it was quiet but visible, Nesta spoke clearly to Tomas that day. She no longer wanted to spend time with him. There was no dowry to be offered therefore no marriage to occur. It was unfair of her to take his time when a future was impossible. It was the nicest way she could think of that wouldn’t invoke anger. What Nesta had wanted to say was that he was arrogant and rude, and any woman that was forced to spend another moment in his company had likely been cursed. Tomas had taken it well. He’d agreed, dipped his chin and agreed. In fact, when Nesta looked back, it had been too agreeable. Too unlike Tomas Mandray.

He'd emerged that afternoon from the woods like a beast. Nesta had jumped out of her skin. But she had seen the anger in his eyes.

‘Our cottage veered off from the others. It was isolated from anybody else. Tomas knew that.’

Cassian’s fists clenched.

‘Tomas called me a stupid slut who deserved everything I got for leading him on then he dragged me into the forest.’

When they’d been in the war and she’d first heard the healers ripping cloth for bandages, her heart had felt like it was caving in as she remembered the way Tomas’ hands had clawed at her dress, tearing the ribbons clean off and splitting the gown at its seams. It had exposed her chest and the worn chemise below.

‘I managed to get away from him. I wasn’t nice then.’

Only blind terror had helped her navigate that situation. Negotiation was not an option. No niceness would have got her through it. Nesta had scratched and kicked even as Tomas pressed her against tree roots. He bruised the inside of her thighs trying to pin her with his knees. When her forehead made contact with his nose, the sudden burst of his blood on her face gave them pause. It was enough for Nesta to raise her knee with enough force to have him double over, wheezing. She’d run home, blood on her ruined gown. Elain was out. Father paid her no attention even as she threw the gown on the fire. They only had five dresses between them but that one needed to burn.

Nesta massaged her face. ‘I will not be nice to males anymore to please them. I will not be nice because it makes their lives easier if I am. Because the last time I was nice to a boy, look what happened. If I hadn’t been nice then I never would have put myself in that silly situation. I should have known better.’

Like a petal in the sun, Cassian unfurled his fingers from the fists they’d been balled into. Gently, he took both of her hands. The warmth of his skin was always welcome. Always comforting.

‘Nes, none of that was your fault. It was all him. Don’t ever blame yourself for somebody else’s actions. It’s easy to wish you’d done things different with hindsight. You could have been horrid to him and he still might have done it. It wasn’t your niceness that made him do that. He did it because he’s an animal.’ Cassian leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. ‘Now tell me where I can find him because I’d like to peel every inch of skin from his bones.’

When Cassian wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she sunk into her mate’s embrace. These arms were home. She wouldn’t tell him where Tomas could be found because nobody deserved the sort of pain that Cassian’s eyes promised.

‘I’m sorry that I asked you to be nicer to the males. It’s not on you to change to suit them.’

Nesta nodded in agreement. She was nice, when she wanted to be, to those who deserved it. Not males who wanted to keep her submissive.

‘I’m sorry that you had to go through that as a mortal. You should never have had to experience these things, Nes. I promise, as your mate and a bastard-born lesser fae, to always protect you. And I’ll never ask you to be nice again.’  

‘Thank you.’

‘And to show you how nice I can be, read your book. I’ll cook.’

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (11/12/2024) Episode: Prank Day Potluck

“This potluck is such a delight” Luigi lied, wishing he had stuck to the plates he had prepared himself earlier. He didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings, especially when he knew the issue was less their dishes and more his very high culinary expectations.

Skye was glad no one was asking him about his meal. The bangers and mash Isra had made had looked quite tasty, but something about the combination of greasy sausage and fluffy potato really weren’t doing his tummy any favors.

Once everyone was finished eating, they broke into small groups to catch up with each other and enjoy some fun in the sun.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Skye told Bruce as he and Elyse sat with the other kids, “My dad said you got hurt pretty bad at the trials.”

“Tales of my downfall were greatly exaggerated” the teen quickly replied. Elyse, who shared classes with Bruce at Copperdale and had seen him hobbling around after he’d been cleared by his doctor to return rolled her eyes but didn’t comment.

“Anyway” Bruce continued “the trials were stupid, but I heard a wild story there. Did you know that stargazing can get you abducted? This guy I met heard it from a guy whose cousin works at the science lab.” Skye listened, rapt. Who knew using a telescope could be so dangerous!?

“I can’t believe Skye is almost a teenager!” Noemi lamented to her girlfriends “I swear some days it seems like only yesterday I was waddling around the university, feeling as big as a house, wishing the desks were bigger and my classes were closer together!”

Breanne laughed. “The teen years will fly by too, believe me. It seems like only yesterday my oldest girl Bailey was dating the captain of the chess team, and now she’s married and expecting her second little one.” “Congratulations!” the others chorused.

“So, do you want to host Skye’s birthday party at our place again?” Isra asked. “Thanks” Noemi replied “but Luigi and I are planning to take him on one last trip with just the three of us. Once he ages up, I’m not sure when we’ll get to see him again without making an appointment with Elyse first.” Isra chuckled “So you say, yet I seem to recall both our kids spent all morning at your house!”

“Sheesh, someone needs to lay off the garlic noodles!” Beau complained, holding his nose while waving his hand in Luigi’s direction.

“What!? That wasn’t me!” Luigi protested before his friend started laughing uproariously “Gotcha!” “Argh, I should have known! I’ll get you back for that, just you wait” Luigi told him as the men enjoyed a game of cards.

“Hey, when will you have that Cyberworld item from the Expansion Pack ready for us try out?” Rhys asked, tactfully changing the subject. “I can’t wait to battle myself in the game!” Beau agreed, adding with a grin: “and I can’t wait to have another way to kick both your butts! Seriously man, let’s test it!”

“Soon” Luigi promised “we’re still working out some kinks in the interface. Creating a virtual world within a virtual world turned out to be significantly more difficult than it seemed; but I just know its going to be awesome when we get it right.”

“Thanks for agreeing to help with the motion capture and voice your NPCs.” he continued, before turning back to Beau “I think the new candle making hobby is going to go over well too. I don’t know how Breanne does it all day, my fingers were sore for hours after my visit!”

“My wife is a pro” Beau smiled proudly “only noobs like your highness get singed every 5 minutes!” he laughed “Honestly though, thank you for thinking of her. She was thrilled to participate and having the official hobby lot in the game be modeled after her shop was very flattering.”

After a few more hours talking, pranking, and enjoying some snorkeling and deep-sea diving in the waters surrounding the bungalow Luigi and his family said their goodbyes and headed home, happy to have spent a wonderful day enjoying one of their favorite holidays with some of their favorite sims.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[laluce1999]

jean rhys in good morning, midnight is just like me. eat raw garlic, jack off, be weird and antisocial

[acourtofquestions]

*Nesta at group-therapy/dinner in ACOSF*

Feyre, clears throat: So… Nesta what did you do today?

Nesta, staring at Rhys: I prevented a murder today.

Cassian: Oh, great job Ness!

Amren, smirking into her glass: How about asking her how?

Azriel, turning with suspicion: How?

Nesta, stabs fork into pasta: Self control.

Rhys, scoffs & drains glass: You wish!

Feyre: And what exactly does that mean?

Elain, sweetly muttering: I believe it was a slight to her capabilities when it comes to murder… Azriel be a deer and pass me a garlic roll?

Azriel, doing just that: I believe it was a “humble brag”.

Amren: Ah, yes cause “not getting murdered” is a standard worth of bragging about now.

Cassian: Trust me… It is when it comes to avoiding Nesta’s wrath…

Rhys, turning flippantly: I can’t tell who that’s a burn for?!

Cassian, twirls fork & gestures between them: That’s the point!

Mor: I’m still concerned that the murder threats are coming frequently enough to be bragged about in avoidance…

Rhys: —That’s because you’re avoiding everything and gone all the time!

Nesta: Perhaps we should be asking WHY exactly Rhys is such a murderable person?.. That even his third feels the need to be gone all the time in the first place, perhaps to avoid HIM? Hmm…

Elain, muttering: Sounds to me like Mor had the only good idea here…

Feyre, silverware clattering: None of this is the point or idea here! You were supposed to say something cute…like… I don’t know “reading”!

Rhys, muttering: Yes, because there’s no way an Archeron could make a book into a weapon dangerous enough for murder.

Feyre, swirling between them: OKAY! THAT’S IT! *rapidly grabbing dishes*

Elain, muttering: I knew it… No more spaghetti!

Rhys & Nesta, turning: What?!

Azriel: I told you…

Elain: — Spaghetti is just too much excitement.

Cassian, looking to his now being taken plate: I really thought we were over this by now.

Amren: And this is why I don’t eat humans-chokes-WITH humans… *winks*