#another contender for favourite make

[endlesslytired]

[hibernating-stag]

Once I’m caught up on Guilty Gear lore I’d love to make an animatic to a Queen/Freddie Mercury song… much to think about

[messenger-of-babel]

Rattled

Summary: The cracks in your relationship all stem from that one night . (Nightwing x batsis!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Here's another one loveliess~! Warning for description of injuries if you're not cool with that, and then just some changing tenses for tiny pieces that I was too brain fried to fix up while editing. First of the sequels to come out (first fic linked below), so I hope you enjoy!

Part 1

RiRi~ xoxo

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Dick had always had a sibling relationship that everyone joked was unbeatable.

You had always been the pair known for late nights and laughter, conversations that flowed for hours without a hitch. Everyone could see how the creases smoothed from Dick's forehead when his eyes settled on you, and when he'd playfully wack at the back of your head. He wasn't supposed to have favourites as the older brother, but everyone knew he that if there was a contender you would be up there no questions asked. You knew it too, in the way that you'd ask Dick for permission if Bruce had told you no or asking him first if you knew Bruce was going to deny you outright. Dick knew what you were doing, even if he sighed and shook his head when you asked. Yet he'd still just berate you lightly before giving you permission and instructions not to come crying to him if things went badly. The same man who'd blink owlishly at any other member of the family if they interrogated him on the soft spot he had for you, responding with a 'I'd do it for any of my siblings,' before walking off.

Partners in crime, and you were to be partners in justice.

Now as he sits in his room, eyes trained on the bland ceiling above him, he wished for you to come crying to him more than anything.

When you came back, you came back different.

Even you could feel that, and it wasn't just the throb in your leg or the persistent limp that told you. When you first woke up after the Black Mask incident, it had been in the back of the Batmobile. As you blinked languidly, staring at the roof of the car, your surroundings began to take shape. First had been the burn. The god-awful burn that started in your thigh and shoulder, and made you want to throw up from the intensity that it struck you. When you groaned you could hear worried voices, the sound of Dick yelling something at someone. You could feel the hum of the engine through the leather seats as it worked harder, and the vibrations rattled your skull until you felt the familiar black fog close over you.

The second time that you had woken up, you had been in your bed. The roof of the batmobile had been traded for the canopy of your four poster, and the hard leather traded in for the plush familiarity of your mattress. there was still the persistent stinging in your leg of course, but it had died down some. Pulling back the cotton sheets revealed a tightly wrapped bandage, just a dot of red peeking through. Your arm was stiff as you rolled it, pain squeaking through your joint at the action. The wrapping was the signature of Alfred, the tight yet even tension throughout the bandages speaking to his countless years of wrapping up child soldiers. You winced when you put pressure on your leg, a jolt running up the back of your thigh like a live wire. That wasn't enough to stop you however, merely making you grimace as you shuffled to the door, threading your arms through your fluffy, printed dressing gown.

Your bedroom door creaked open, letting spills of golden light into the darkness of your room. Faint chatter could be heard from down the hall, leading to the foyer. You looked both ways, trying to see who was around before stepping out and closing the door softly behind you. You had only made it about six paces down the left hall, headed for the library to where Jason often visited, before a voice called out to you.

"You should be resting."

Those words were enough to make your shoulders hunch, like a deer caught in headlights. When you turned back around you were met with the cold eyes of your father, jaw set tight, and arms crossed. He was imposing as ever, whether you saw him dressed for patrol that night or if he was simply Bruce Wayne like he was now. You just wrung your hands, looking down to your feet. You couldn't help but feel the scalding in his tone, the disappointment enough to make your eyes water. You didn’t really consider yourself to be a cry-baby, but the tiredness that clung to your brain like a fog, paired with the stare he normally gave your older siblings was enough to make you curl up inside.

You heard his footfalls, and it was like the world was shaking with each heavy step. Bruce crouched in front of you, sleeves rolled to his elbows which he rested on his knees. "Look at me." he commanded, voice a touch softer than it had been before. Reluctantly, you pulled your eyes up to meet his. His eyes were dark but not angry, searching yours silently before flicking around your face. A rough hand came up to the side of your face, reaching for your cheek. His hands were large and rough, but they tucked hair behind your ear so softly you almost didn’t realise he had.

Involuntarily your lip wobbled, closing your eyes as you felt the familiar sting. "I'm sorry." you forced out, throat feeling like sandpaper after waking up so recently. You only had realised how thirsty you were, now that you had used your voice. Bruce sighs and stands up, warms hands coming to rest on your shoulders before softly pulling you in. "It's okay, chickadee." he murmured lowly. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

The use of your childhood nickname made the hot tears beading your eyes finally sink into his shirt. You wrapped your arms around him as your brain flashed with pieces of what had happened last night, each one that zapped through your brain making your leg sting and pulse.

You wrangled your emotions under control, taking a deep breath. even breathing felt like a chore, having to push each breath past the built-up knot in your chest. You parted your lips, wanting to say something to the silent yet steady father before you, but the words caught on your tongue.

He had just come up the stairs, rounding the corner when you saw him. Dark hair damp from an earlier shower, it hung in strings in front of his face. He was in a pair of ragged pyjamas, feet tucked into battered grey slippers. He looked up from his phone, freezing as he catches your eye. The glare from the phone screen highlights the bags under his eyes, heaver and darker than usual. His face was a little more sunken in the cheeks, and a worry line seemed to have taken residence on his forehead.

Not able to stand the building pressure in the small distance between you both, you looked down and away. It was like your gaze was the only thing keeping him a voyeur to the moment between you and your father, and you could see his slippered feet shuffle for a moment, before eventually continuing down the hallway. The tired image of his face lingered in your mind long after Bruce had walked you back to bed and tucked you in, like a persistent itch on the inside of your eyelids.

When you slipped back into sleep, you dreamt of it.

You dreamt of being back in that shipping container, body thrumming with pain and warning signals firing in every corner of your brain. your teeth could feel the texture of the wooden spoon you bit, mouth dry and tongue aching from the texture. Pain boiled through your veins like acid, and the spoon clatters from your mouth. Your mouth is dry, but your cheeks feel as wet and you beg Dick to stop, and you can feel that your leg is sickeningly wet and warm.

While you're tossing lightly in your sleep, Dick is awake down the hall. He couldn't sleep, but not for the usual reasons. For reasons unknown to you, he was staring at the ceiling with his heart in his throat. If he took his eyes off it for too long it warped back into the shipping container roof, his vision blurring like they were covered in tears. He had to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling to make sure he didn’t accidentally slip back there, to prove to himself that he was in fact here in his room, and it wasn’t some trauma response imagining he was. His hand clenched and unclenched in the sheets, repeating to himself over and over that he was safe, you were safe. It was just a nightmare that never seemed to end, but he had gotten you back safely.

If his eyes closed for even a second too long, his ears rang with the sound of your sobbing and the pleading that came from your lips. With a sigh he wipes his face with his hand, blinking languidly as the air puffs out from his lungs. Who was he kidding. Safe? You were hardly safe. You had been bleeding all over your suit, all over that medical chair, all over his hands. That red was still staining the backseat of the Batmobile, and no matter how many times Jason told him he had cleaned it fully, he was convinced he could still see it there faintly.

He wasn't your hero.

Dick knew that much, and it hurt. He hadn't been the one who eventually saved you, that had been Tim. Who had come to him with a kit and the car, who had helped him pinch off the bleed, who had driven as fast as he could to get you back to Alfred and the med bay while all Dick could do was hold you in the back of the car. He was supposed to be unshakeable, your rock and foundation. He had advocated for you to be able to come out with them, promising Bruce, promising himself that he would sooner die than let anything happen to you.

What a lie that was.

Despite his best efforts, when he looked down to his bloodied lap, the sight he saw was not the debut vigilante. It was his little sister back when she was ten, in the gala dress Bruce had bought her. Hair slightly messy from running in the halls and roughhousing with Damian, knees skinned from tripping over near the garden well. It was the little sister that would fling herself into his room whenever she wanted or would come charging at him down the driveway when he came back from a trip to Bludhaven. The little girl who had posters of all of Gotham's vigilantes on her bedroom wall but had a few extra Nightwing ones tacked up on the inside of her wardrobe. That was the one he had failed.

With a crushing pain in his chest he swung himself upwards, tousling his hair with a shake of his head. Alfred should have given you another round of painkillers, which meant that more than likely you were going to be knocked out for a while. He shoved his feet into slippers, sighing as he turned the handle of his bedroom door. This was a bad idea, but he couldn’t stop himself. It's not like he was going to be sleeping much tonight anyways.

The lights of the hallways were dimmed but still bright enough to hurt his eyes, and he solemnly wondered if that was how Bruce felt constantly. Your door wasn’t too far away from his, yet he still hesitated outside. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath and checking to see if anyone was around before he grabbed the handle and pressed it down, your door swinging open silently.

The beeping of the monitors near your bed made his heart pang, and he looked over your sleeping figure. Your eyes were closed, lips parted softly as your chest rose and fell. The sheets were tucked up neatly under your arms, no doubt Alfred's work, while one arm rested in your lap and the other by your head. Your shoulder was padded thickly with gauze pads, strapped tight to your skin. He sat gently on the side, trying to not let his weight dip the bed too much. A hesitant hand brushes across your forehead so he can see your face clearer, a faint smile flickering across his lips. His eyes trail down to the blankets that covered the wound site on your leg, and his brain was filled with images. He wanted so badly to know what it looked like, if it was healing, how much gauze was needed to patch up his mistake.

"I'm sorry." he whispers into the air, gazing down at you. "I'm so so sorry, birdie."

His hands fiddle in his lap as he lets a sigh out. He moves one of his hands stiffly to yours in your lap, gently curling his hand around your fingers. When your digits twitch in your sleep and curl around his back, his eyes burn, and he holds the back of his other hand to his nose to stop a sniffle. "I'm so sorry." he whispers again, throat on fire. "I should have been there sooner. I should have caught you. I should have checked for an explosive, I should have kept my promise." he confesses quietly, the bleeding of his heart spilling past his lips. "I should have been a better brother, birdie. I wish I could take it back."

He swallows thickly, eyes flicking over your face constantly to check for signs of you waking. "I understand if you hate me. Why you don't speak or look at me, and I understand." he tries to smile weakly. "I understand. Bruce was so mad at me, but that's what I deserve. It was all my fault, it truly was." His voice aches as tears finally drip off his nose, a hiccup building in his chest. "But I'll try to make it up to you. I'll earn your trust again, if you'll let me. I promise you; nothing is ever going to happen again."

He wipes his face and stands up, aching as he slips his hand from yours. Your fingers twitch at the loss of the warm contact, and he would give the whole world if he could have the chance to interlace his fingers with yours. Yet he holds himself back, leaning over to give you a featherlight kiss on the forehead, like he used to do years ago when you came to him with nightmares. "I love you, birdie. Forever, I promise." he whispers, stroking your head once gently before he quietly stands up, trying to not jostle the bed. He pads quietly to the door, opening the handle a fraction so that light doesn’t spill into the room, giving him a big enough gap to just slip out. He closes the door, forehead pressing against the wood for a moment before he pushes off and heads back towards his own bed.

Away from the four walls that held you and the sun faded rectangle right above your bed, where a poster clearly used to hang.

[lesmisshippingshowdown]

Les Mis Shipping Showdown Quarter Finals: Official Winners Reveal

Wow! And I thought the Turnchetta vs. Courfius steal frenzy at the end of the Round of 16 was crazy. You guys have turned it up to a whole other level for the quarter finals, and trying to keep up with the steal totals was so thrilling and intense for me that I was listening to the MotoGP race in the background (sorry, you have jock mods) and my favourite rider crashed out from the lead and I didn't even care because I was so engrossed in doing Eposette maths.

Anyway, enough about motorsports, and let's focus on the ACTUAL greatest competition happening today: the Les Mis Shipping Showdown Quarter Finals.

Without further ado, the winners of the Les Mis Shipping Showdown Quarter Finals are...

Courfeyrac/Marius (33.1%) vs. Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta (66.9%)

A fairly easy ride for JBM once again - shoutout to @melannen for submitting the first JBM steal work of the contest! With E/R to contend with as your next opponents, I reckon we're only just getting started on the steal action for this fandom's certified favourite throuple...

Enjolras/Grantaire (51.4%) vs. Jehan/Montparnasse (48.6%)

From the biggest whitewash of the popular vote to the closest final points tally, Jehan/Montparnasse nation - you may not have won this particular battle but you have won my eternal admiration for your commitment. Well done for a hard fought battle - and, of course, we cannot forget to congratulate Enjolras/Grantaire for making it through to the semi finals ENTIRELY on votes. Not a single steal work has been submitted for our fandom's biggest ship (by numbers) so far, and they're still cruising on through.

Marius/Cosette (24.8%) vs. Combeferre/Enjolras (75.2%)

A successful steal from Combeferre/Enjolras fans after Marius/Cosette won the popular vote! IMO Combeferre/Enjolras is something of a dark horse in this contest. You guys just quietly work away on your steals and suddenly you're through to another round. I'm excited to see what you do next!

Valjean/Javert (15.2%) vs. Cosette/Éponine (84.8%)

The scale of this defeat in raw numbers does NOT do justice to how close this battle felt at every single point, from the very first day of polls to the last hours of steal submissions. Both sides fought and stole like their lives depended on it, and played the game to its fullest potential - Valvert nation by being the only shippers thus far to take advantage of our rule allowing for submissions of works published since February (to be fair, this rule was written partially with them in mind because I didn't want to put them at a disadvantage or overwork them so soon after their ship's own fanwork fest. And then they went and wrote several thousand words of new fic anyway, so what do I know!), and Eposette fans by introducing bold new fanwork formats (shoutout to @21stcenturyjolllly for writing literally an entire multi movement piece of classical music and doing more composition work in a week for a shipping contest than I did in 3 years of an undergraduate music degree). In total these ships alone amassed more steal points between them than every other ship combined across the Round of 16, Quarter Finals, and the Round 2 Steal-Off! Genuinely CRAZY work and my heartfelt hats off to both sides for their excellent effort.

News on the semi final (and a special announcement about the final) will be coming shortly, but I'll give you guys a second to bask in your respective victories first!

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 30 - Silver

“Good morning, my love,” John sighed, beside his head. “Happy Birthday.”

“Mmmm,” Sherlock sighed into his pillow. “Morning.”

“How about I make some breakfast for the birthday boy?” He kissed Sherlock’s curls and then another on his shoulder blade before sliding out of bed.

“Joooohhhhn,” Sherlock moaned, turning over. “Where are you going?”

“Come on, you. I have plans,” John said impatiently. “Get yourself up and I’ll make those eggs you like.”

Sherlock flipped back onto his front, burying his head into his pillow. He lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of John rustling around in the kitchen. He could almost fall back to sleep if he just settled back down the right way. He tried fluffing his pillow and pulling the blanket just right. But now that he was listening to John, he wanted to be near him again. He had never realised just how obsessive he could be about another human being but ever since Christmas, ever since they had crossed into this new territory, life had finally felt like it had all fallen into place, like everything had suddenly become colourful. His heart was overflowing with so much love.

With a heavily annoyed groan, he got himself up, put his dressing gown on and padded to the bathroom. After emptying his bladder he decided to freshen up, wash his face and tidy his hair to look nice, to wake up properly so he could greet John with more enthusiasm. He got  out his skin care and worked on his face. Then he grabbed his comb to tidy up his curls. When he looked back into the mirror, he suddenly let out a blood curdling shriek.

He heard John drop something in the kitchen which shattered on the floor and then John came running in.

“Sherlock?! Are you okay?! What is it?” John cried out, worried.

“John! Look!” he moaned. “Look!”

“What exactly am I looking at?” John asked, frozen in the doorway trying to understand, looking for signs of bleeding.

“My hair John. I have a silver strand! A grey hair, John!”

John sighed and collapsed heavily back against the door frame, rubbing his hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, I thought you’d sliced your face open shaving or something.”

“But John…” Sherlock pouted, expecting a bigger reaction to the news.

“Welcome to the old boys club,” John simply said with a sigh. “Mine’s been getting greyer for months. Are you going to lose interest in me because of it?”

“Of course not,” Sherlock scoffed.

“Exactly.” John gave him a smug expression.

Sherlock still sulked and fussed at the mirror “Come and check for more. I want you to pull them out of my head. Will you?”

John just stood at the door frame looking at him lovingly in silence. “I’m going to marry you,” he said gently.

“What?” Sherlock spun around.

John grinned. “Yep. I’m going to whisk you off to the countryside and marry you. Not today, obviously. Don’t worry. But one day. I definitely will.”

Sherlock paused, letting the thought jiggle around in his brain for a moment. “Is that right?” he finally asked, gently smiling as he walked over to John. He needed to look right into those eyes and judge how serious he was.

“Mmm-hmmm.” John let out a contended sigh. “And until then, you will just have to get used to becoming all distinguished and silver. Like your father.”

“Oh dear god,” Sherlock moaned, collapsing against John.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” John said, laughing at his ridiculous partner.

“I hardly think eggs count as a surprise, John. You told me already.”

“Not the eggs, you twat, there’s something else. Come with me.” He grabbed Sherlock’s hand and led him into the kitchen. “Just watch out for the broken china. And ignore the fact that it may have been your favourite mug. I’ll tidy it up in a moment,” he said in a flurry before Sherlock could register it. “Now sit.”

Sherlock sat himself down at the table, looking a little stunned. Until he saw it. On his plate, were not the eggs yet, but an envelope. “What’s this?”

“Well go on.” John pointed at it to encourage him.

Sherlock opened the envelope and read the card inside. It was a cryptic clue. He had already solved it of course, within seconds but he sat there holding the card in his hands, his mouth open in surprise. His fingers stroked the card and he found himself getting a little emotional. “It’s a treasure hunt?” he asked, finally looking up at John.

John shrugged. “I did have to ask your brother for some pointers and I can't promise to be as smart or as cryptic as him. I'm going to have to learn my way around this,” John said, already apologising for his clumsy version, and blushing slightly. “But yes, I am going to make you work for your presents.”

“You’re already the best present,” Sherlock sighed, smiling up at him.

John paused and smiled. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that aloud,” he laughed. “Sherlock Holmes, you’re getting soppy on me.”

“No, I’m not!” he rushed to protest.

“Yes. Yes you are,” John teased. “One silver strand of hair and now you’re all soppy. You’re old and sentimental.”

“Shut up!”

“I love you,” John sighed happily.

“I know. And I love you,” Sherlock rushed to say.

“I know. Now, let me finish your eggs. Once you’ve eaten, we can do the treasure hunt.”

“The day you walked into that lab, was the very best day of my life,” Sherlock sighed.

John smiled and they both just held each other’s gaze for a moment. John leaned in and kissed him gently and then pulled away. “See? Old and soppy,” he teased. He gave Sherlock a little swat on his arm and laughed as he walked back to the counter to finish making breakfast. “Besides," he added. "I’m pretty sure in the last week, you’ve had some days… and nights, that might be better than me walking into the lab and offering you a phone. Don’t you think?” He gave Sherlock a cheeky wink.

Yes, the last week had definitely had some pretty incredible days. And nights. Sherlock’s mind quickly found a few of his favourites in the catalogue of his mind palace, and replayed them as he waited in silence for breakfast. Some very passionate, and steamy moments.

I’m going to marry you.

John’s words suddenly floated back into Sherlock’s head, and the silver strand of hair was long forgotten. He didn’t care about that, if he had his doctor, his blogger, his friend by his side for the rest of his life. Sherlock relaxed back in his chair and sighed to himself. He couldn’t have planned for things to go any better. If he had asked his brother to manipulate a scenario such as this, with all his resources, it never would have been this perfect.

In the end, things had worked out exactly as they needed to. Eventually.

@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart 

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear 

@starlitkeys @lumilama @yorkiepug @talkativeanxiousturtle @kettykika78 

@kittenmadnessandtea @whatnext2020 @egregiously-chuffed @chriscalledmesweetie @catlock-holmes

@battledress @kholkate @randomquadballpun 

@sillygirlsmindpalace @johnlockficclub @rainstarboii @bheadhe

@wssh13 @br-nz @solarmama-plantsareneat @givemesherbet-blog-blog

@dw91165 @pileofstardust2106 @moonkeller @surprisinglyokay @r4venlyn  

@therealalexisamess-blog @e-b1838 @rhasima @salmonsown @tropelovingpainter 

@westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @notjustamumj @melodious-me @sherlocke3d

@otter-von-bismarck @silvergoldsea @calaisreno

[akoyaxs]

Hi! Could I request a fic where the Metkayina are having a festival and perhaps Rotxo, Aonung and Neteyam all had been crushing on our lovely fem!Na'vi!reader and are eager to try and court her so essentially they are all fighting for her attention?

Like reader doesn't notice this at all but the guys all are eager to ask reader to dance, perhaps pour a serving of food for reader to show their intent of courtship, give a gift and such but they don't realize they're all trying to court her until they notice that there's competition?

Perhaps reader is just talking with Tsireya, teasing her about her thing with Lo'ak and is oblivious while Aonung, Rotxo and Neteyam are plotting how to win reader's heart.

Each move they make has them glaring at each other when reader isn't looking and it's just 3 guys trying to win over one girl?

Who do you think would win this fight?

I offer free reign and this could either be sfw or nsfw (both are amazing)

Or.. perhaps alternate endings showing what happens depending on who wins her heart? 👀

Have fun with this, thank you! <3

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

To be fair, you were oblivious at the best of times. It was something Tsireya had always teased you about- like she could be one to talk! And of course, while the two of you would sit giggling in her marui, the next room over, Aonung and Rotxo would be sitting in silence, each pretending to be in their own thoughts and enjoying each others company in silence, but they’d both really be listening for you. For your voice, for the sound of your smile beneath your words, for the tiniest of confessions you felt something for someone.

Nothing ever came, until another contender joined the fight. Rotxo tried to be kind to Neteyam like he was to others, and he buried his worry and jealously just as deep as his feelings for you. And Aonung, oh fiery, jealous Aonung didn’t try to even hide it. That fight on the beach only made his hatred for Neteyam grow deeper, especially the way you had shouted him down after it and then immediately went to apologise on Aonung’s behalf TO NETEYAM.

It was a while until Neteyam and Aonung and Rotxo became friends, and even longer before they finally came clean about what they truly felt. It was then - one night on an abandoned beach, roasting fish by a fire - that they decided on a fair game. May the best man win.

Each was determined, each had their own approach.

Neteyam was helpful, offering to teach you how to shoot a bow, telling you stories about the forest, inviting you to even fly on his ikran with him. (It was a smart tactic given the way you looped yourself all around him until every part of you was against him, yet most of the time your eyes were closed and it was rather clear you were terrified. He decided maybe heights weren’t your thing, and amended his plan).

Rotxo was sweet, bringing you every little thing he could. Little shells and seaglass and stones he found to match your eyes, or your favourite top. Then of course making jewellery with his precious finds, and leaving them in little places for you to find. You didn’t know he was the one doing it, and he was too shy to give it to you at first, but the first time he saw that woven necklace with the pearl on it, he was sure his heart could have burst into flame.

And Aonung, oh ridiculously confident Aonung, wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He had never felt like this - aflame every time he saw you, always occupied by every thought of you, heart thumping wildly everytime your fingertips brushed over him. He found himself seating himself beside you at every party, every dinner, every festival. He would set his leg aside so it would brush yours no matter the distance, revelling in the way you flushed but never moved away. He would keep his eyes on you at every fight, then come straight to you to clean him up and fuss over him, telling him not to fight all the time or next time you wouldn’t help him. (You were lying, the next time he came back, you even gave his neck a little massage when you complained).

It was only at the festival that they decided enough was enough. Your ignorance to their feelings was becoming a little ridiculous now.

So they assumed the positions. Neteyam offering to dance with a charming smile. Rotxo flitting around bringing you drinks and food and everything he could lay a hand on until you placed a hand on his arm with a gentle smile and told him you were fine, why doesn’t he just sit and talk with you for a bit? Of course, Aonung settled himself in his normal position at your side, closer than usual, leaning back on an arm when Neteyam reapproaches, an arm positioning itself just beyond the far side of your waist so he’s half-holding you into him.

And what could you do?

Three of them - one of you?

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...

You best imagine that the smile on his face was nothing short of radiant. He would take you straight away from the festivities for a moonlit walk along the beach, halfway through he'd finally take your hand and revel in the ease with which your fingers lace in his. He'd tell you why he likes you, how long he's liked you, just how beautiful you look in the pale moonlight. Shortly after which he'd kiss you, and you'd melt straight into him and never leave his arms again.

He's never been more excited. more nervous. more terrified. Truth be told, he had never really thought this far because he'd never be self-assured enough to think you'd actually choose him over Neteyam or Aonung. But under your gaze and smile and gentle squeeze of his hand, he stammers everything he likes about you and the whole truth about everything and then, nervously...

"Can I kiss you?"

It's sweet, gentle, tentative. He breathes you in, his hand tangling in your hair, revelling in the way you smile against his lips, or the way your hair smells like coconut.

Oh, and he 100% asked Can I be your boyfriend now?

Oh, Aonung would never admit he was surprised. But the feeling of relief when he knows you chose him takes him by surprise. Instantly he's bundling you the fuck away from other people, a wide grin stretched across his face, holding you as close to him as possible until you're safely behind the woven curtain of your marui. Best believe you got some good dick that night, but also the from gentlest, kindest version of Aonung you have ever seen. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, forehead pressed you yours, lips never leaving your skin, whether it be your lips, forehead, neck, breasts, collar, cheek, jaw, literally wherever they can land.

Also he would confess everything to you while he's inside and close, sort of like a Simon and Daphne moment from bridgerton but ONE HUNDRED times better because you all know that I might like Aonung just a little bit >-<

[insomniac4000]

Lazy Sunday-George Clarke fluff

You and George have now been together for eight months, you met through your brother who worked as an editor for him, Arthur and a couple of others. He once invited you on a night out as you needed cheering up and from that moment George laid his eyes on you he was smitten and you were very much the same. It took him a couple of months to gear up the courage to ask you out and was absolutely thrilled when you said yes.

You worked a regular 9-5 job, as such weekends were often spent with George when he wasn't away filming. Your flatmate had pretty much moved in with her boyfriend at this point leaving your flat free for George and you. As much as you had gotten to know and love Chris and Arthur it was also great to have your own space. This was actually the first weekend in three weeks where you and George had seen each other due to filming on his part and a friends hen party on yours. You had spent the Friday evening out with George's friends and spend Friday night at his place before moving to your flat on the Saturday and going out for dinner Saturday night.

Sunday morning rolled around and when you woke you were still quite tired. You turned onto your elbow and smiled at the still sleeping boy next to you, hearing his breathing as his mouth as slightly agape. His eyes flickered and when his blue eyes focused and fixed on you he smiled and turned to face you.

"I caught you staring," he mumbled tiredly with a smirk placing his arms around you and pulling him towards you.

"I could stay like this all day," you told George as you let out a contended sigh.

"Okay, let's have a lazy day," George groggily replied closing his eyes once again, you followed suit and the pair of you dozed for another hour, slipping in and out of sleep as you laid there together, that was until the call of nature washed over you. As you were up you decided to make some tea for George and yourself, not being arsed to cook you grabbed some muffins and some biscuits you had in the cupboard before going back into your room and seeing George now fully awake sitting half up in bed.

"And where did you go? I got cold and lonely," he added sadly and you smiles lifting up the items in your hands.

"Just went to get some provisions for our lazy day in bed," you answered giving George the mug carefully and placing the sweet goodies on the floral duvet. Once you had consumed the baked goods and caffeine you went back into George's arms, he had made it very clear he had no intention of moving from that bed all day.

"Without a doubt this is my favourite thing to do," George said lazily as he squeezed you in his strong arms. You nodded in agreement as your hand caressed his cheek feeling his bone structure under his facial hair before giving him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"With everything going on and how busy we both can be it's so nice to just stop and appreciate each other, because I do, I love you so much," George told you a goofy smile on his face. Your blushed and peppered a few kisses on his cheek and jaw.

"I love you too," you whispered as your hands found his hair.

The pair of you stayed true to your word, the only time you left the other one was either to use the bathroom or when George went to get the pizza you ordered at around 4.

"I don't know about you but I think we should make lazy Sunday's a weekly thing," George suggested, mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.

"Agreed," you replied sipping your diet coke.

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Stellaworth Complete Set Tokuten Short Stories ☽ Kou ver.

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD ステラワース全巻連動購入特典ショートストーリ English translation by @otomehonyaku Scans can be found here (courtesy of @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SUMMARY | This short story provides a slice of Kou and Yui's daily life after the events of More,Blood. Yui makes vongole bianco for Kou for the umpteenth time, which makes Kou wonder why he even likes the dish to begin with. It brings him to an important realisation.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or repost my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Mm… vongole bianco really is the best!” 

As I was musing about being fine with eating it every day, Kitten looked at me as if to say well, there he goes again.

“What? It’s delicious, right?”

“It is, but won’t you get tired of it if you eat it every single day?”

“Would I? It wouldn’t grow tired of it at all, though…” I said, taking another bite. The soup, permeated by the savouriness of the seafood, was superb. Kitten followed my movements with an exasperated expression on her face.

“Tell me, Kou… Why do you like vongole bianco so much?”

“Hmm… I wonder. I don’t really know why. Although… you know how Yuma loves his sugar cubes, right? It was the first good food Karl Heinz ever gave to him. I guess it’s kinda similar to that.”

Why did I even like it that much? I just couldn’t seem to remember the reason.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter why, does it? I like it because it’s delicious. That’s all!” I said, taking the pasta-laden plate in both hands and lifting it to my mouth.

“Ah!”

“The soup’s the best part! Ah—don’t tell Ruki about this, alright?” 

I touched my lips to the edge of the plate and directly drank the remaining soup from it in one go. It was indecent behaviour, a clear sign of bad manners, and I was fully aware of it. Still, it somehow tasted even more delicious this way. I wondered whether it was just my imagination.

“You might not want to do that in front of other people.”

“I know, I know! Who do you think I am?” I said, scooping the remaining pasta into my mouth with vigour and expressing my gratitude for the meal when I was done. “Oh, that was great! I’m already looking forward to you making it for me again tomorrow.”

“You’d really want me to…?”

“Of course! I can’t count on Ruki to make it for me. He said he’s gotten tired of it. Besides, Ruki’s version is pretty good, but yours is a pretty strong contender too, you know?”

Kitten took my plate and smiled wryly when I told her this. “Really? Don’t you think vongole bianco would always be equally delicious, no matter who prepared it?”

“No, not at all,” I said, taking the pitcher of water next to me and pouring myself a glass. My eyes were trained on Kitten’s back as she made her way out of the kitchen. 

“Why do I even like vongole bianco?” I muttered to myself, turning over the thought in my head. My memories were pretty blurry, but I was fairly sure I’d come to like it because Ruki made it for me. “Even though Ruki never particularly liked cooking our favourite dishes, he still does so when we ask…”

Come to think of it, it suddenly occurred to me that our food-related demands might have begun as a way of pestering each other. We certainly weren’t very altruistic back then.

”That must be it. It is kind of weird that Ruki would cook them for us every day, even against his will…” 

In the blink of an eye, Kitten had returned to the kitchen and heard what I said. “Maybe you don’t like vongole bianco that much after all, then?”

“Huh? Of course I like it, but…” What I like much more is that you would willingly cook the same thing for me every day, I realised. “I see, so that’s why I’d prefer it to be you rather than Ruki.”

“What?”

“…Nothing. Just talking to myself!” I replied, dodging her question, and snaked my arm around Kitten’s waist to pull her close and kiss her on the cheek.

—It’s my fault for testing her love for me. She willingly makes all my selfish desires come true, after all.

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

What's your favourite thing about [character]?

Percy 🤢

(You promised Percy Gone Wild fics)

Hello Nena is that you Nena good to hear from you Nena

(How awkward if you aren't in fact, Nena)

As with people, it's so hard with good characters to pinpoint the One Favorite Thing about them. But actually with Percy I do think one of my favorite things about him is what a rule-follower he is. He is at his heart someone who wants to do things the right way, who in fact when he is eventually placed into various positions of authority himself takes it very seriously because he believes in upholding the rules. We live in a society! There are curfews for a reason! Cauldron bottom thickness is a consumer protection issue!

As much as Percy is regarded as someone very full of himself and who loves being in charge, a huge part of his personality that's not often recognized in tandem with this is how deferential he is, in fact, to those in positions of authority over him. He respects authority, and he respects it because it is authority. He assumes authority is good and ought to be followed. Now, is this a weakness as well? Of course, I'd in fact say it might be his biggest weakness and is even more prominent a reason for his split with his family, even more than pride or ambition or resentment. He places all of his trust in authority and I think it's hugely difficult for him to deprogram himself of the habit to submit to the established order of things. (He's different in this way to Hermione, for example, who believes in rules but ultimately has no qualms breaking them when she believes it is the right thing to do or will serve her subjective purpose.)

At all stages of his life that we see, we see Percy meeting if not exceeding expectations. These are the things that are expected of you as a good son, elder sibling, student, Prefect, employee, citizen -- and by God he is going to do all of those things. This guy tries, and it's not just about self-aggrandizement; he cares about getting it right. He feels responsible for the welfare of his siblings, and even of Harry (we see him following Harry around in POA after Sirius has been seen in the castle, and Harry suspects it's per Molly's orders). He expresses that care in the form of bossing them around, but I mean, look who his mother is!

Halfway through canon all these various sources of authority -- parents, teachers and school administrators, bosses, government leaders -- start to come into conflict with one another, as is often the case in life. When he was younger it was much more straightforward. Do your chores, look after the younger ones, get good marks, get a good job. I believe there are a lot of factors that play into his choosing the the authority of the Ministry over his family/ Harry/ Dumbledore in book 5, but I genuinely believe that he genuinely believed the Ministry had everyone's best interests in mind. And I think by that point owing to the convergence of various factors, he trusted the Ministry a lot more.

And there's actually something really heartbreaking about the idea that Percy has to contend more and more with the fact that you can do everything right -- in the sense of doing everything that is prescribed and asked of you, performing well according to conventionally held standards, being responsible -- and your life can still be magnificently fucked up. You're the black sheep at home. Your siblings make fun of you to your face for things you're doing in earnest. You have never rebelled against your parents, and when the time comes that you do have a knock-down-drag-out fight with your father, he doesn't even stop to look more deeply into the source of antagonism in his otherwise perfect child (this is perhaps the biggest fuck-up of Arthur's in that fight -- there is a huge lack of curiosity and reflection about the source of Percy's enmity -- Arthur is peak Weasley reacting first and asking questions later.)

And the last thing you have to cling to is being an excellent employee and loyal citizen and committed to order, and wow, does that blow up in your face SPECTACULARLY.

[saphronethaleph]

Gossip Girl

“Welcome back to Senate Eye,” Marko Biks said, smiling into the holocameras. “I’m Marko Biks, bringing you the latest in breaking news and stories. In the wake of the shake-up caused by the young queen of Naboo on her whirlwind visit to the capital, the question on everyone’s lips is: who will be the next Supreme Chancellor?”

Biks sat back in his chair, and holograms of all the contenders appeared. “As things currently stand, Sheev Palpatine from that very same planet of Naboo is the current favourite. With a long career as representative of his homeworld behind him, Palpatine is free of scandal and has good support among the polls… but how much of that is true? Senate Eye has an exclusive.”

The Zygerrian tapped his muzzle, then turned his chair, and the cameras zoomed out to show his guest. “Thank you for coming on with us.”

“It’s the least I could do,” the woman replied. “I felt like the Galaxy deserved to know.”

“Well, don’t keep everyone in suspense,” Biks told her. “Let’s hear it!”

“All right,” the woman replied, and squared her shoulders slightly.

She faced the camera. “My name is Rey, and – I had a difficult childhood. I was abandoned at the age of six by my parents on a world in the Inner Rim. I don’t know why for sure, but – well, they never came back, and I was always told that I was sold off for drinking money.”

Biks winced. “That’s terrible,” he said, shaking his head. “To sell a child like that… I may be Zygerrian but I know some practices should be left firmly in the compactor of history.”

Rey nodded, swallowing slightly. “Thank you, Biks.”

The host turned back to the holocameras himself. “A sad story, I know – but I’m sure our viewers are wondering why it’s relevant to Senate Eye! And I can reveal the exclusive details… because our support department did a genetic test, and Rey is none other than the daughter of Sheev Palpatine!”

“This isn’t about me,” Rey spoke up. “It’s about making sure that the galaxy knows the kind of person who might become their next Supreme Chancellor.”

“This is obvious nonsense,” Palpatine muttered, turning the holonet display off with an irritable button press, and looked at one of his closest allies. “Can’t we destroy that stupid program for this?”

“That would be difficult, Senator,” the aide said. “Because… well… they’ve provided evidence. To the courts, in a filing made just before the broadcast.”

Palpatine’s expression changed. “What? What kind of evidence?”

“Genetic tests and polygraphic examination,” the aide said. “The examination was very limited, you know how they are, it’s a demanding process-”

“I don’t give a damn about the polygraphic examination!” Palpatine snapped. “I have no daughter!”

“The genetic evidence disagrees, Senator,” the aide replied. “It’s an exact match – chromosome patterns that would only be possible for someone who was your biological daughter, and there’s no sign of forced-growth in her epigenome either.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

“That’s why they felt able to make the broadcast, I’d guess,” another one of his allies suggested. “Even if we did somehow manage to prove them wrong, that would take months, and they couldn’t even be penalized for it because they have all the evidence required to show why they said it – they were making a claim that they had a good-faith reason to believe was true.”

“Then find some other way to silence them!” Palpatine insisted. “This is going to ruin my chances for election!”

It was going to ruin his chances of ever becoming Supreme Chancellor. It would probably ruin his chances of being re-elected as Senator for Naboo, for that matter.

The Sith plan was destroyed, by a talk show.

And he couldn’t even work out how it could possibly have been done. Or why.

[keepthedelta]

what would you consider Rosberg's best race? (wanna hear people wax poetic about their special interest)

it's going to be a list because i am weird about nico

singapore 2016. an absolutely dominate weekend for him, fastest in every single session, outqualified lewis by 7 tenths (and danny ric by 6) setting what was (at the time) a track record. spent the entire race managing brake and engine issues, got screwed over by merc strategy when they were trying to get lewis back onto the podium after he got overtaken by kimi, had to make his tyres last an extra 20 laps with danny ric chasing him down 2-4 seconds a lap faster than him. won the race and then posted a slutty shirtless photo of him being cooled down by a fan in what could be considered the ancestor of the ice bath videos that teams post now.

canada 2014. a real contender for my favourite ever nico race even though he didn't win. both merc cars had mgu-h failure about 20-30 laps in thereby losing half of their power. nico switched brake bias to the front brakes so that less strain would be put on the rear brakes because on the lack of power and potential overheating. about five laps later lewis dnfs with rear brake failure. nico should have been overtaken by just about everybody, but instead he spends the next 30 laps using all of his power and speed in one specific sector (the one with the drs detection point) so that checo (now in second) is too far behind to get drs, and then, even though nico's car is barely alive for the rest of the lap, he can never overtake him. it literally took checo's car breaking down and allowing danny ric (now driving the best car in the field) for nico to lose the win. the mechanical masterclass of modern f1 (and yes it might not have worked at another track or i f someone other than checo had been in second, but i firmly believe that the lowest nico could have ever come given the circumstances was third) and it is not appreciated enough.

china 2012. i rewatched this recently and literally no one believed that nico was going to win until about five laps before the end. he was driving one of the world's shittiest mercs (i promise every single merc pre-2013 was worse than any car since then), got pole by half a second, got a perfect start, flawless tyre management, cruised to victory while everyone else was fighting for their lives behind him (the battle for second was absolutely insane, and nico was just minding his own business about 15 seconds ahead of them all).

singapore 2008. crashgate has entered the building. back then cars refuelled during the race and so another factor in the strategies was fuel load. nico and a number of others were running low initial fuel loads, so they would have to stop relatively early. except, just before they were going to stop, nelson piquet jr binned it into the wall (on purpose) and the stewards closed the pitlane for safety reasons. however, nico and the others on similar strategies needed to refuel so they had to enter the pitlane anyway which earned them a stop and go penalty which had to be served within three laps. nico did those laps as fast as he possibly could, meaning that after he served his penalty he only lost a handful of places (i think 3). robert kubica who also took a stop and go penalty on the exact same lap for the exact same reason (and was in a better car) lost far more places and i don't think he even finished in the points. nico spent the rest of the race rising up the field and finished second only to fernando (who got there by cheating) with lewis in a distant third (tbf i don't think he needed to try that hard by the end as he got a massive points gain over felipe massa his championship competition due to the ferrari pitlane incident).

malaysia 2016. casuals will tell you that this is the race where lewis lost the championship because of his dnf (and if you're a lh hater i recommend watching it because the level of conspiracy that emerges from lewis and sky sports is genuinely quite funny) but i think that's very misleading. in the very first turn seb crashed into nico, spinning him around and leaving him in dead last by the end of the first lap. nico fought through the field, pulled off a rallycross overtake on kimi, got a penalty for it, and was already sitting in fourth when lewis's engine blew up. he then pulled a ten second gap over kimi so that he kept his podium place, got danny ric to make max do a shoey, nearly threw up when he did one himself, told a room full of reporters that he didn't want danny ric to win another race (that year) and filmed one of the funniest ever post-race vlogs where he fidgeted with the neckline of his t-shirt while describing how seb had apologised to him for the crash and that was nice but it didn't get him any points back. truly iconic.

there is definitely a running theme in these choices i think. mostly that i think nico was at his best when he was fighting against the potential capabilities of the car/circuit/circumstances rather than other drivers 🤷🏿‍♀️

[minjoongism]

i read @storkmuffin’s recent mingi post earlier this morning and it pretty much summarised my thoughts about mingi’s importance in ateez vocally but i’m going to elaborate anyway because i love good raplines and i ESPECIALLY love mingi

disclaimer: at least for me personally, i am really, REALLY bad at recognising people’s (singing) voices, and if i’m listening to a group, picking out each individual singer with any reliable accuracy is practically impossible for me. usually, rappers are way easier for me to distinguish - whenever i start to learn about a new kpop group even casually, telling apart their rapline vocally is usually the first thing i succeed at. i was able to pick out the rappers in bts before i even learned all their faces, and i have no trouble telling apart the guys in skz too. and even if i don’t know their names, i can usually guess how many rappers are on a song and who features when because of how distinctive they are.

+ because of the above, to me, good rappers are the very foundations and absolute backbone of a good kpop group. i say good rappers because not all kpop rappers probably should be rappers (please just let them sing. we don’t need a rap break in every song), but when you find a gem, they’re usually the undeniable core of their group’s musical sound. to bring up the one of the same examples i mentioned earlier, skz would not be skz without 3racha. not just from a production or songwriting perspective (though i’ve noticed that good rappers tend to do more of that than non-rappers in my limited sample pool), but in the sense that they musically carry a lot of the songs or turn them from good to great. and they can sing too! they’re not limited to rapping!

and at the risk of sounding biased, i think ateez’s rapline is my favourite yet. yeah, there are only two of them, but they’re 1) so strong individually, 2) so unique both from what i’ve heard outside of ateez and also when compared with one another, and 3) work SO well together that every time they’re back to back in a song it immediately contends for my favourite part of the entire song, like in emergency, or (in a simpler but imo no less effective or delightful) in my beloved pirate king:

and mingi!! even in addition to all this!! is another level of unique. i don’t think i have heard a voice quite like his EVER, never mind just within the kpop industry. and he’s so flexible too. a lot of people zero in on his more aggressive side vocally but he’s able to play with his voice to a degree that we don’t really hear from many rappers (or vocalists sometimes) - arriba comes to mind here for an example of his versatility. i think his arriba rap is genuinely one of my fav verses in any ateez song. it’s DELIGHTFUL. his voice is so profoundly distinctive that whereas with most raplines it takes me less time to learn to distinguish their voices, with mingi (and by extension hongjoong, because he never sounds like mingi), it took me NO time. i knew who was rapping from the outset even if i didn’t know his name yet. and i knew that i liked him.

i think the thing for me about mingi’s voice is that it’s so delightfully husky and rough and raw in a way that the other guys’ aren’t. i think that’s why he’s able to pull off the expressiveness and emotion @storkmuffin mentioned e.g. in man on fire to a degree that the other guys couldn’t quite. there’s a polishedness or smoothness or snappiness to the other guys’ voices that makes them vocally very powerful, but when it comes to pinning down a specific, unfiltered feeling, that’s where mingi comes out on top. the same goes in youth imo, and also in tunnel (which, btw, changed my life the first time i heard it) - mingi’s voice is perfect for emotion. sadness, desperation, anger - he convinces you it’s real, because he just sounds so damn genuine about it, even without me understanding a single word he’s saying.

[loni4ever]

Get to Know your Author

Thanks for the tag @mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea :D <3

1. How many works on AO3?

31

2. Total AO3 wordcount?

205,244

3. Top 5 fics by kudos?

So We're ... Friends part 1 of my 7 parter novel length FrostIron series. Unsurprising that it's number 1 in kudos as well xD in which Tony and Loki go from enemies to friends & allies. I'm a little unsure by now how I feel about parts of the series but this one is one of my favourites

You Home, Merlin? part 2 of the above :) shorter, a little fluffy, a little silly. Tony and Loki being friends and growing closer

Wanna Be More Than Friends? Cause I Really, Really Do keeping with the theme, part 3 of the above. In which Tony and Loki go from friends to lovers. I'd probably recommend this part right along the first one. Mostly fluff, a good shot of angst, then more of the fluff to round it out xD

open arms the outlier in this list. It's part 2 of my other (pride themed) frostiron series: an au in which Odin put a spell on Loki to hide his Jotun features and it caused him increasing physical discomfort throughout his life. This part is set after Loki got rid of the glamour and can finally breathe, so to say. He slowly settles into his new circumstances living in the tower, dealing with his newly uncovered identity & glamour free body, makes friends (the Avengers), has fun and is just... happy. At last. God why can't he just be happy in canon like once no I'm not salty at all what do you mean xD

I've Waited Forever To Spend Eternity With You part 5 of the first series. In which Loki and Tony go from lovers to engaged :D pining, feels, angst, fluff. This is one of the above mentioned where I'm a little unsure how to feel about them. Still very fond of it though. This series kind of made me a frostiron writer (and writer in general) and for that alone I adore it

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Almost exclusively MCU (as in Frostiron), but I've written one little fic in the Zelda (botw/totk) fandom with another one lurking in the depths of my brain, and there's one Johnlock fic I'm planning on writing. No idea when I'll get to that though xD

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yup, always :) though it does sometimes take me a little while haha

6. Fic with the angstiest ending?

tears of the knight it's the Zelda fic I mentioned above, and it's almost MCD if you don't know how the game ends. Lots of devotion. Lots of pining. Tears. Poor Link :'(

7. Fic with the happiest ending?

Of the first frostiron series above, part 3 and 5 end with absolute fluff shots, and the actual end of the series (part 7) is a worthy contender as well. Though there's actually another fic I'd like to put forth more than that, as the happiness in it is a little different in kind and particularly dear to me: of playful yowls and rumbling purrs is a were creature AU, and Loki is a lynx. Cats love warmth and napping (as we all know), and Loki loves Tony (as we all know *cough* that depends I guess but in this fic he very much does xD), and it ends with Loki nodding off in a sleepy, fuzzy state of love and warmth. Just so soft and domestic and cozily cuddled. (I frickin nailed that ending (•‾⌣‾•) xDD)

8. Do you get hate?

Not once. *knocks on wood* xD

I think a big part of that is my fandom. MCU isn't exactly new, and I wasn't around for any major disputes or drama. I think the ones that have stuck around and are still reading FrostIron 12 years after the one time they met in canon (lol) are not quite as likely to get all passionate and up in an author's face about sth they might have disliked or whatever. Adding onto that, I'm also not very critical of particular characters in my fics (and if I am, at least not in a way one might see as bashing... I think), and I don't write about any particularly out there stuff, so it's no wonder the reception has been friendly haha

9. Do you write smut?

Very rarely. Likely couldn't/wouldn't write it just for the sake of it (though I do frequently enjoy it for the sake of it lmao). Emotional development is what I'm here for most of all, and if a sex scene illustrates/shows it best, then sign me the fuck up. As of now, I've written two, but there's one fic circulating in my brain that'll add a couple more haha :D

10. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope. Not sure I'd be able to, or even want to. On any kind of team task, I oftentimes slide into a mindset of "let's just be polite and civil and cooperate and compromise and then we can finish and go home" but I'm not looking to have that kind of experience in writing. Sure, sometimes there's a thing and you'd be well-served to put away some of your personality and the stuff that makes you you in order to get that thing done cordially as well as efficiently. But making writing that thing? Nah. That's mine. Maybe someday I'll be able to view it differently but for now, I can't imagine seeking out cooperation, nor compromise xD

11. All time favourite ship?

It feels a little weird not to say FrostIron given I write them and they're on my brain daily. That said, it's likely Johnlock. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are just such a classic pair. I'm most fond of their BBC Sherlock iterations (s1 and s2 only though lol... actually, no. only s1... and maybe like part of season tw— anyway) but they're rather lovely in most versions I reckon

12. WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None :D there's a good number lurking but I think I'll get to them in time. And if not, well. Can't speak for future me, but chances are if I don't want to write sth (anymore), I also won't want to finish it (anymore) given my detachment/devaluation mechanisms. But again, who's to say

13. Writing strengths?

Fluff and humour. The fuzz. Fluff powers my soul, and I'm fairly sure it shows in my writing xD

As for specifics though, I'm not really sure *scratches head*

14. Writing weaknesses?

Dialogue, or: What The Fuck Do People Say.

Of course practice helps and I've gotten much better at making my main blorbos speak to each other but when there's others involved? Parents in law? Business associates? Some fancy schmancy at a gala? In these cases there's something I sorely lack, and it's a frickin clue xDD

Also, environment descriptions. 1. I am not good at them. 2. I'm not really interested in them. and I feel like those two kind of exacerbate each other lmao

Wanna play too? @bottan-blobbington @feltwrong @minhyongi @vilyanenyavilya @izhunny and anyone else who sees this and is interested— feel tagged! :D

[nicolesainz]

Hey, really love the writing😍 I was perhaps wondering if it were possible to do a Jenson Button x reader x Fernando Alonso. (Age gap with a young reader like 21years old)

Where the reader is Jenson's girlfriend and Jenson takes her along to a grandprix. After the race while Jenson's busy with interviews the reader walks around the paddock and runs into sweaty, sexy Alonso and he flirts with her FULLY aware that she's Jenson's girlfriend.... And yea some romantic drama perhaps... I fully understand if you're not able to do it though, it was just a suggestion. Thank you for your awesome work❤️

Hands close and teammates closer (JB22 x FA14)

Jenson Button x f!reader x Fernando Alonso

Author's note: Thank you so much for the support, it means the world to me! I am so sorry this too way too long to write. I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as possible.

Also Jenson admitting publicly that Fernando is his man crush, is my new Roman Empire. What do you think? Will Nando go to Mercy along with George for the 2025 season?

Warnings: angst, jealously, possessiveness,

Summary: requested

Monaco has to be one of my favourite circuits on the calendar. And trust me it is not because of the luxury and mamma mia vibes its feeling radiates. What I love, is the fact that I can get lost in the streets of the crown jewel and still be able to guide myself through the lines of the circuits and the fierce sound of engines.

Since this is Jenson's final year in Formula One, I have decided to follow him along in all the races taking place in the calendar, so that this historic season finishes off in a smooth but memorable way. What better feeling than witnessing twenty men in front of your eyes racing hard core in the fastest vehicles on earth and one of them being your boyfriend, right?

With all the eyes being on focused on the two silver arrows that are the championship contenders as well, no one really pays attention to Mclaren's lack of luck this season. Multiple engine failures, pit stop difficulties, strategy errors. It hasn't been the most perfect season the team has had.

Whether it is first, second or even twentieth place, for me, supporting Jenson through thick and thin is my priority. I have witnessed his glory days but that will not stop me from enjoying watching him fight for points in the championship to help the team get back on their feet.

What pleased Jenson even more was when both he and Fernando were into the points after a difficult races. This helped them gain some confidence agains the other midfield teams. Although Jenson wasn't very pleased when Fernando was always following me and him during the race weekend at the paddock. Well, it was mostly me he was following.

Fernando has just gotten out of a long term relationship and seeing his teammate in a happy and healthy one, wasn't boosting his mentality very much. It was the exact opposite. Jenson couldn't really be able to help him given that he hadn't been through such a difficult heartbreak ever.

At first, everything was innocent and friendly. Me and Fernando were casually chatting about our daily lives, his as an F1 driver and mine as an English Professor. Always laughing, making jokes and freely giggling with one another.

Then, when the Spanish Grand Prix arrived and all the drivers were waving at the fans from the paddock and grandstands, everyone was cheering and shouting Fernando's name, given he was the national hero and as he was waving at the audience, he grabbed my waist and held me against his side, as if I was his lady.

That night, Jenson was about to murder his own teammate for the first time. Because the downfall didn't start there. At the Austrian Grand Prix, when Fernando had an unfortunate DNF due to an engine failure, he rushed angrily back to the garage and everyone was trying to console him.

After a few moment, one of the mechanics asked me to go and seek him, given that they were told he wasn't in a position to talk to anyone else but myself, which was very odd.

Austrian Grand Prix flashbacks

"Hey Nando. I am so sorry for the malfunction." I open the door to his driver's room slowly, given that I wasn't aware if he still had his race suit on.

"Come in, Y/N, and thank you. But you know, it's never easy to retire the car after having a good race." Fernando still hadn't looked at me. It is a gutting feeling for a champion to retire so unfortunately.

"I am sure a win is close. One final push and you will be back on the top step of the podium. I have no doubts." I tried to sound as positive as I could, although I knew deep down Mclaren was not capable of winning any race or barely making it to the podium.

"You are the only one who believes in me anymore, y/n. I do not know how to repay you." He got up and took my hands into his, caressing them softly. I really wanted to pull my hands away from his grasp, but instead I made small steps towards the door.

"Jenson believes in you as well, the whole team does. Just do not lose faith in yourself."

"Don't try and give them your credit sweetheart. You are the only one." Before I could react, Fernando landed a kiss on my cheek but I quickly removed my body away from his and walked out of his room.

End of flashback

When I told Jenson, Fernando kissed me he was fuming. Obviously he asked me if I kissed him back, but I denied it. Because I hadn't kissed him, I simply ran away. If there was a hidden camera on Fernando's room I would use it as proof.

At the next race in Hungary, Jenson was still very angry at Fernando that he willingly pushed him off the track and lost 5 places at the beginning of the race, which led to Fernando getting P15 by the end of Lap 1.

Mclaren mechanics were disappointed at Jenson's behaviour. Why would he push his own teammate off the track. Rumors started spreading around the paddock that Jenson was plotting against Fernando and trying to sabotage his races so the team would take into account his bad performances and eventually fire him.

Jenson finished the race in a worthy fourth place, whilst Fernando in P11. Very mixed feelings for the results given that this was the best Fernando could do with a damaged and already underperforming machinery.

Interviewers were flooding Jenson with questions about the first lap incident, what was the actual cause, if he had done it on purpose or it was an accident. All the replied was "I didn't want to lose my position".

As if there wasn't enough drama with Nico and Lewis in the paddock and on the track, now Fernando and Jenson were fueling the media with the answers each were giving to the press.

"I needed to guard my position in order to gain more places"

"I was trying to avoid the cars behind me and eventually fell."

"I did not mean to push Fernando. Clearly driver's error that he went off the track."

"I don't know what Jenson was trying to achieve but he clearly had things going his way today. Pushing off his own teammate. Unbelievable."

"If he thinks I did it on purpose, fine by me, but I know my worth and I am aware of the mistakes I do. First lap incidents occur very often, if he doesn't already know that."

"He is a world champion, like myself. Why is he behaving like we are in go-karts? We should work as a team."

After the interviews, Jenson was called in from McLaren so he could explain himself about the incident and try to save his reputation from getting wrecked because of what he said in the press.

When I walk away from where I left Jenson, I am met with a full blown red, still in his overalls and sweaty Fernando. He is very angry and you can tell from the way his knuckles have gone white.

When he raises his head and looks at me, somehow all the anger that had possessed him, seemed to wash away with a smile covering the pain.

"I am so sorry Fernando, I have no idea why he did so. This all seems ridiculous. I will try to reason him."

"No need cariño. I will take care of him. I know exactly why he is doing so."

What did Fernando knew that I didn't? What was going on, I thought to myself as his eyes were getting shadier and lustier. The use of the pet name made me feel uncomfortable as he was crossing a line that shouldn't have been crossed.

"Why is he doing it then?"

"Because he is clearly jealous. Can't you see it? You are always coming to me in the end."

"I care about you Fernando but not in the way you imagine."

"That is why you let me kiss you the other time in Austria? I know what you are trying to do sweetheart. If you want to be with me just say it."

I was stunned by his statement. From where exactly did he extract this conclusion that I wanted to be with him. I was so disgusted by his saviour. He knew I was Jenson's fiancee. I loved him dearly, so why on earth would I want t be with another man?

I didn't calculate my actions and as Jenson was coming out of the office, my hand instantly landed on Fernando's smirking face. The slap echoed in the room and Jenson's eyes widened enough to pop out from anger.

"I love Jenson so much. There is a reason why I gave up my job to be with him and travel around the world. I will marry this man and I will not allow anyone to interfere in our relationship. I don't know from where you drew the conclusion that I am in love with you, Fernando. I am sorry but you crossed the line."

I ran away from the room and Jenson was following me along, trying to catch up on what was had happened. Tears were storming down my cheeks and I was all flushed up and tensed. If Fernando marked the end to mine and Jenson's relationship I would never forgive him.

"Darling please wait up. What happened?" Jenson's soft voice stopped me on my tracks. I turned around and he was met with a distraught version of myself that he had not met before.

Jenson took me into his arms lovingly, kissing the top of my head, shushing me to calm down, whilst caressing my back gently. I was so shaken by what Fernando had accused me. How could he?

"Talk to me dear. What did he say to you?" His voice was calming me down as he knew I wasn't to blame for what he saw.

"Fernando accused me of hitting on him and wanting to be with him instead of you, which in no way is true." Jenson didn't reply to what I had said. He was silent but tightened his grip on me.

"Say something, anything. I promise to my life that I did not do anything of what he said. Please trust me." I was begging him to utter a single word.

"I am trying not to go back there and chop of his dick. I know you would never do anything to harm our relationship baby. I believe you." He looked deep into my eyes and my heart instantly softened.

"I will stop being in the garage if it means avoiding him at all costs. I will go into the grandstands. I don't mind really." I offered but Jenson instantly rejected it.

"Are you insane? I will simply ask Daniel if he can take you in with him and Max. I trust them blindly, plus you will have much more fun over there." Daniel and Max, the super dynamic duo everyone had been talking about. They are two very funny guys and Jenson has a very good relationship with Daniel.

"I would never want my future wife to not be in the paddock supporting me. I love you immensely and I would hate not having you around, seeing your beautiful face and having someone encouraging me."

"I love you with all my heart Jenson. I am your and only, forever. Thank you for taking care of me. Even in a different garage, I will cheer for you. Even if that means silently so the Red Bull guys don't kick me out."

"Everyone loves me darling, I am sure they won't mind. But don't root very much for Daniel cause he is a womaniser" He winked at me and I laughed with my head hidden inside his chest.

[ichigokeks]

Left 2024 with Love for Love's Sake as my top favourite BL of the year and entered 2025 with another January BL that is a big contender of making it my 2025 favourite: ThamePo the series

[melrosing]

Do you have any thoughts on the Azor Ahai prophecy?

sorry this took a while, I haven't really written much about this in the past so I don't have the relevant shit to hand in the same way. but my thoughts under the cut; conscious this is a contentious issue, so whilst I'm happy to chat about it, pls be normal if engaging.

I think it’s Jon. That doesn’t really get me excited or make me feel anything tbh, I guess because Jon is my least favourite major POV and the Azor Ahai prophecy isn’t one that interests me a whole lot. But I think the only real candidates for Azor Ahai are Jon and Dany, and based on both narrative structure and evidence within the story, I feel fairly confident it’s Jon.

Ofc, the argument for Dany being AA is strong and I think that’s the point. She ticks all the boxes, indeed more than Jon currently does, and the birth of her dragons is pretty much the most fantastic event in the story. She’ll surely have a huge role in ending the Long Night too, so Dany really does fit the bill.

But imo the structure of the story, and of their own personal arcs, favours Jon. I’ll quickly go through why I don’t think it favours Dany.

First off, rules of three: I think it was GRRM’s editor who told us that he likes rules of three in his writing. He makes you think one thing is true, then appears to provide the true solution, before the real answer emerges later on and completely throws you. There are lots of examples of GRRM using this technique in ASOIAF, but let’s go for another example that directly concerns Jon himself: the question of who his mother is.

The first answer we get is a basic one: Ned got Jon on a sex worker, and that’s that. We already know that’s near certainly not the case, because consciously or subconsciously we know that’s not how stories work. Second answer, Jon was born of an affair between Ned and Ashara. This idea is more interesting, has more supporting evidence, and we come across other characters who claim it’s true, like Edric. But still, I think a lot of people (even if they didn’t know R+L=J) would think that still doesn’t feel like the end of it. The closure has come too soon, and it doesn’t have the surprise factor that we know it’s supposed to have. It’s just clean.

Then of course the true answer is one that we still haven’t learnt yet: Ned isn’t even Jon’s father, and his mother is Lyanna, and Jon is the ‘true heir to the 7K’ etc etc etc. I think we’re all extremely used to this information now, but apart from the overwhelming evidence, we accept it because narratively it makes sense. This is the secret third thing, where everything clicks into place in a surprising way and has massive implications for the rest of the story. Rule of three. 

I think the same applies to Azor Ahai. First, we’re told it’s Stannis. He ticks most of the boxes, albeit in a really haphazard way, but we know it’s not Stannis because we know how stories work. Then we’re presented with Dany as the answer. This seems to add up really well: she ticks the boxes far more literally - smoke, salt, bleeding star - and characters like Aemon are convinced it’s Dany.

But I think we run into the same problem here as we do with Ashara. The closure’s come too soon, everything fits too neatly, and honestly it lacks the surprise factor. Dany may be a surprise Azor Ahai to the rest of her world, but she isn’t to the reader: we’ve seen what she’s capable of, and if we were told that Dany is going to save the world, most good faith readers would be like ‘well yeah if anyone’s gonna do it’. And so ironically, that’s how you start to get the feeling it isn’t Dany. It sounds painfully self-contradictory, yeah, but it’s the same as it works with Ashara. Consciously or subconsciously, we know how stories work.

So Jon is the third answer. Jon is intended as the surprise, where he didn’t even seem like a contender, is really just some guy. Except he isn’t. To make sense of this, you really have to forget how obvious R+L=J seems to all of us now, bc time and again GRRM has said he didn’t intend it as obvious, and actually seems a bit frustrated how many people had worked it out - even before the show got to make the reveal. 

Pasting at this juncture the key details of the prophecy:

When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. DAVOS III, ASOS

So Jon is descended from Jaehaerys II and Shaera, as the Ghost of High Heart said TPTWP would be. He is indeed a prince, even if he doesn’t know it. When Melisandre looked for Stannis as TPTWP in the flames, she saw ‘snow’. Jon’s story is the one that most directly concerns the fight against TLN; Dany currently has the potential for the most impact, yes, but at the moment she has absolutely no idea what’s going on beyond the wall, and it’s Jon trying to unite the 7K against the Others. This makes him the strongest thematic fit for the hero who will ultimately end TLN.

Then we have the fact that there are two major things about Jon’s story that have to mean something. 1: Jon is the ‘true heir’ to the 7K, the one no one saw coming, that everyone thought was a nobody. Jon was born of the union between Rhaegar and Lyanna that only a dead man and Howland fucking Reed (likely a man with his own knowledge about the TLN, the Children and the Others) know about. Jon was the child Rhaegar somehow knew he had to have (the ethics of that aside…), that made him realise the prophecy wasn’t about him but someone else. Within the story of ASOIAF, this is seismic. It’s no good to say that Jon’s true heritage is nothing more than a political subplot, that’s not how stories work and it’s certainly not how GRRM writes.

And 2: Jon is going to be fucking resurrected. No, he’s not the first character to come back - Beric and Catelyn both got there before him. But if there’s one thing we can be sure of, Jon is coming back for a reason. We saw how ridiculous it is in the show for Jon to just come back to life and get on with everything like normal. Everyone was asking well why the fuck did he need to die in the first place then. To give him an excuse to leave the Night’s Watch? lol. Nah Jon is going to be reborn for a specific reason. Cannot emphasise enough that it is not GRRM’s style to kill Jon for nothing more than dramatic effect.

And who is going to rebirth him? Melisandre. What is the significance of Melisandre? Fucking everything. Melisandre has not been placed at the Wall to get the prophecy wrong AGAIN. She has been placed at the Wall because that is where the answer is. If Jon is the POV most focused on the TLN and the Others, Melisandre is the POV most focused on the AA prophecy. She is the one trying desperately to solve it, and whose revelation we are awaiting because once again, that’s how stories work: we know that Melisandre is wrong right now, so we anticipate the moment she will be right.

So Melisandre seeing ‘snow’ in her flames means something. Melisandre’s weird connection to Jon means something. Melisandre being the one who, seemingly without knowing it, has been preparing Jon for rebirth since about halfway through ADWD - means something also. R’hllorism and its weird connection to the AA prophecy means something. Melisandre and Ghost both having red eyes, with all the rest in mind, also seems to mean something.

Her eyes were two red stars, shining in the dark. At her throat, her ruby gleamed, a third eye glowing brighter than the others. Jon had seen Ghost's eyes blazing red the same way, when they caught the light just right. JON VI, ADWD

And right there’s the fact that Melisandre is the ‘red star of the prophecy’. Everyone thinks it’s the red comet, which we see identified in the ACOK prologue as the ‘bleeding star’ named in the AA prophecy. You know who’s also introduced in that chapter. Fuckin Melisandre. Melisandre and the ruby she wears are alternately described as ‘red’ and ‘star’ - sometimes both together:

Melisandre's ruby glowed like a red star at her throat. DAVOS VI, ASOS

So here’s Melisandre, red as hell, explaining the prophecy. Notice how much she herself seems to embody the imagery of the prophecy - red, flames, blood, burning, etc.

Melisandre was robed all in scarlet satin and blood velvet, her eyes as red as the great ruby that glistened at her throat as if it too were afire. "In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him." DAVOS I, ACOK

So we come to the ‘bleeding/red star’ aspect of the prophecy. Smoke and salt are easy enough to come by, but a star is a more specific requirement. As is a birth (or rebirth). Dany seemed to tick these boxes with the smoke of the pyre, the great salt sea, the birth of her dragons/her figurative rebirth, and the red comet. 

But I think the bleeding/red star is more likely Melisandre and/or her rubies. How either end up bleeding I can’t say, but it’s not hard to imagine. Does Melisandre destroy her ruby to revive Jon, or use her own blood? Maybe she has to die to do it, leaving Jon none the fucking wiser when he awakens what her reason for reviving him even was. That would be fitting: I think Jon won't understand his own significance for some time yet.

Either way, we have our star: Melisandre has been looking everywhere for one, never knowing it was she herself. This is actually a great beat for Mel’s story - for all the times she’s appeared all knowing, she was missing the woods for the trees, and her own significance in it all. It’s tragic, too, because that revelation is perhaps also one of her own demise.

(sidenote: I also think it's more fitting [and more likely] that the decision to burn Shireen and indeed the idea to do it is Stannis' own. in desperation, he attempts to fulfil what he recalls of Melisandre's methods, but butchers everything in doing so.)

Next we need smoke and salt, and as mentioned, those are straightforward. We’ve been told the Wall has plenty of salt lol, and light a few candles and you’ve got smoke - not to mention Melisandre loves a bit of fire, so figures there will be smoke involved in Jon’s rebirth either way. So salt and smoke both sound like pretty standard ingredients for a resurrection, I don’t think it’s much worth elaborating.

Then what’s left? ‘A birth/rebirth a day after a long summer’, check, we’re told again and again through ADWD that we’re on the brink of winter. ‘When the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world’, check again - Jon is right there on the scene. 

The flaming sword comes after the rebirth, but it’s a given that Jon will wield one - it’s right there in his dreams:

Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. ADWD, JON XII

(another sidenote: look, a song of ice and fire. I’m aware that GRRM has previously stated that Dany’s fire and the battle against the others are the titular ice and fire, because he’s sure not going to say ‘by the way it’s also Jon’ when he hasn’t revealed anything about Jon yet. But we know that Rhaegar anticipates a child who embodies ‘the song of ice and fire’, and you cannot associate Dany with ice. Dany IS fire.)

I think Jon probably already has Lightbringer, and it’s Longclaw - we see that Ghost is tied in with the red of it all, and who is atop the sword but Ghost. Valyrian steel obviously also has some fantastical role still to play, and it’s notable that Jaime envisions he and Brienne also wielding flaming Valyrian swords (their flames are blue, of course, and Jaime doesn’t know in the dream that the blades are Valyrian, but the point stands that there’s some connection between flaming swords and Valyrian steel going on, and that that all ties to TLN).

So all that’s really left is to wake dragons from stone. This is one where I can’t really guess what it’ll mean - my best guess is that Jon will find dragonsteel at Dragonstone, because even if he did somehow hatch further dragons they’d be damn babies for the duration of the Long Night, but really this part could point to something we can’t yet guess at, so whatever.

And finally, there’s Jon’s heritage. The Targaryens are tied to the wielding of fire, to Valyrian steel, and to dragons. The Starks are tied to winter, to the Wall, to the old gods and the North. Jon’s heritage is representative of the two forces that need to unite to overcome the Others. 

I don’t want to get into how exactly Jon ties into the mythos of the Night King and what undead Jon might look like, because whilst there’s plenty in there that no doubt ALSO supports the prophecy, I freely admit I just haven’t looked into it all that much bc it’s not a passion point for me, so I'm not going to seriously try. But we do have this part from Benerro's prophecy:

death itself will bend its knee, and all those who die fighting in her [referring to Dany as TPTWP] cause shall be reborn... ADWD, TYRION VI

You can make this really figurative to get it to work for Dany, but it would make a lot more sense for Jon. He'll rise from the dead (death itself will bend the knee) and 'all those who die fighting in [TPTWP's] cause shall be reborn' - hey just like the Others are. Is Jon somehow going to have his own army of the undead? Possibly.

So, cumulatively:

Jon will unite ice and fire, armoured in ice and wielding a flaming sword

Jon’s Stark and Targaryen heritage are figuratively significant

Rhaegar foresaw the significance of Jon. Rhaegar has been wrong in a lot in all senses of the word, but I think he’s going to be right on this point - on ONE fucking point

Jon will be reborn a day after winter comes

Jon will be reborn beneath a bleeding red star

Plenty of scope for salt and smoke to be involved

Jon will wield a flaming red sword

Jon will be on the ground as darkness approaches and lead the charge against it

Jon will make death bend the knee

Jon may lead an army of the 'reborn'

Melisandre is the POV with the greatest fixation on the Azor Ahai prophecy, and Melisandre is beginning to realise the significance of Jon + will be responsible for bringing him back

Jon is the Secret Third Thing

etc etc 

And finally, bc I’ve seen many, many heated arguments over this, I want to establish some things myself before signing off:

I am engaging in good faith here. I have come to these conclusions through reading the books and considering all sides, and think this is a very legitimate reading of the text

This resolution to the prophecy is not something I am invested in. Jon hardly makes my top 20 characters in ASOIAF, and Azor Ahai is not a prophecy I crave an answer for. I’m a lot more interested the southern storylines (in case you couldn't tell)

Dany, meanwhile, is a character I like about five times as much as I like Jon. I’ve not reached the conclusion I have because I think she’s not capable of being AA (currently, I think she’s a whole lot more capable than Jon). I’m only judging based on where I think the story and evidence gestures

I agree that there’s potentially problematic subtext in introducing Dany, a young girl who subverts the typical ‘chosen boy’ narrative by fighting every adversity to be a hero for the ages, [edit - forgot the other half of the sentence orz] only to say actually nah it was special boy Jon all along. It’s difficult to say exactly how egregious I’m going to find it when that comes to be because I don’t have the material to judge, but I fully understand why people find the idea of Jon Snow as AA such a deeply frustrating idea, and I may well share in that frustration when it comes to it

Again: I’m engaging in good faith, so if you want to discuss, please afford me the same. We are discussing a fantasy series