#anyway i hope you like it nonnie

[raplinenthusiasts]

'Lovesick Girls' BLACKPINK

for anon ♥

[maeby-cursed]

HOW I SEE THE JJK MEN !

Takuma Ino is...

A newborn's first laugh, upon hearing the joy the world has to offer and replying in its tune.

He's warm hands covered in freckles and bowls of soup shared during family dinners. He's a smile that displays all the teeth and dimples the cheeks and curling his ankle with yours. He's making bad jokes before falling asleep and dreaming with sun soaked afternoons. He's a honeyed toast and a pair of overused sneakers. He's pecks over your closed eyelids and calling in between university lectures and the warmth of belonging.

♫ campus by vampire weekend

[teecupangel]

Hii teecup!! Hope you're doing well!!

May I ask some a/b/o AltDes stuff please (alpha! Altaïr and Omega!Desmond) because there's not much of it out there :'D

Now I'm sure Altaïr would more open minded and much less of an asshole to omegas then most of the people back in his days..... HOWEVER, please hear me out, what if he wasn't

He could be low-key about it, unlike most alphas who are very vocal and open about their 'opinions' on Omegas and such. He's very aloof when it comes to omegas in general, not having strong feelings on anything (very Altaïr behaviour honestly). That is until he meets Desmond.

Now instead of time travel, this time Desmond was born in Altaïr's time. This means Desmond would be raised as a traditional and submissive omega, but he still fought back. He could be born in Alamut (because Eagle of Alamut XD) as the son of the mentor (who is not Diya al-Dīn because he would never) who trained and became an assassin... sort of because idiot bigots.

Desmond is the best assassin in his entire brotherhood, BUT he's not officially an assassin. His father/mentor isn't as strict like most and let him get away with his antics, usually.

That is until Desmond was 'of age' and that's when it starts getting bad for our boy. His dad became more controlling and won't let him sneak off to do missions or fight anymore. He was to be married to whoever the assassins could use as allies. Basically just a bargaining chip. Desmond would fight back harder then ever, even with one of the best assassins guarding him and monitoring his move all the time, he would still be able to sneak off to continue doing missions to make them see just how capable he was.

He could runaway, he probably should runaway, but deep down all he wanted was for his father to love him again. To look at him with pride and treat him like a son again. (Altaïr would use this fact as an advantage later on)

But then it all comes crashing down when he finally gets betrothed. (Idk who he should be betrothed to LMAO it could be whoever. Someone very powerful that the assassins could use)

And all was going to shit for Desmond but it all went to super shit when Altaïr showed up. Because oh boy, Altaïr was a Strom of his own.

Now I honestly don't know how he and Altaïr meets, but it definitely left an impression on Altaïr because he was smitten from the first time they made eye contact. Man was obsessed from here on out kajsksjssoakakak.

And uhh yeah that's all I've got, plot wise

Some notes.

- Desmond pulling all the alpha assholes like catnip.

- Altaïr, manipulating Desmond as a sign of affection

- Malik suffers because we love him <33

Honestly teecup, I just wanted a toxic a/b/o au but it grew plotty legs and ran out of my grasps, my apologies.

And that's all for now!

Sorry in advance if my English is very trying, I'm typing on my phone and it's not the best experience.

PS please make it as toxic and horny as Tumblr allows you to, and I would give you my kidneys.

PPS if you think you know who I am by how I write..... No you don't/lh

As horny and as toxic as Tumblr would allow it? I don’t even know the limit of Tumblr’s tolerance hahahaha

So for this one, if you want Desmond to be born in Alamut as a son of the mentor but not Diya al-Dīn, we can make him the son of an older brother of Diya al-Dīn instead. Born more as a way for the older brother, who was passed over because Diya al-Dīn was more worthy of the title, to try and get power with his son being the next in line for the imam since Diya al-Dīn was still childless at that point.

Diya al-Dīn would be the kind uncle who tried to do right by his nephew but can’t truly intervene because his brother was controlling and had a firm grasp on Desmond’s every day life. It was going well, all things considered.

Desmond wasn’t a genius nor was he inherently talented but he was a hard worker and he always went beyond what was required of him.

His father rewards his hard work by giving him a bit of leeway, all the while making him drink medicinal tea that was meant to change him into an alpha.

It didn’t do anything but hide his scent… which had been easy to do in the first place because those not yet of age only had a hint of scent to show their ‘status’.

Diya al-Dīn tried to be accepting of Desmond’s wish to be an Assassin even if omegas aren’t exactly… well… only omegas that could control their ‘base instinct’ could become Assassins which was hard for an omega without the help of some kind of medicine that would leave them in pain or groggy.

Desmond, unfortunately, is one of the omegas that cannot be medicated. Even if he drank more than he should, that only leaves him in unbearable pain.

That’s why his father pivoted from Desmond becoming the next imam to having some talks with certain powerful rulers. Finding Desmond an alpha that would take him as their official wife or one of his concubine.

His father was less picky of Desmond’s standing and more interested in creating a political bond with a powerful ally (whether he plans to use this to usurp Diya al-Dīn or he simply wants more power outside of the Brotherhood is up for grabs)

And he finally finds one but Desmond would enter into that household as a concubine. His marriage proposition wasn’t a good one all things considered, the alpha was a powerful one but it was well known that his official wife and the older concubines were dangerous. Newer concubines either die from poisoning or accidents or childbirth and, more often than not, their children would not survive more than five summers.

So Desmond escapes. Maybe, just maybe, Diya al-Dīn had a hand in the patrol routes that night and it left certain large windows of opportunity for Desmond to use.

Alamut, of course, will look for him. That’s why Desmond would try to hide from them.

That’s how he meets Altaïr.

He was desperate and his heat was upon him. Altaïr’s scent was overpowering and he could feel it within him that this was an alpha that would fight tooth and nail to keep his omega safe.

He wasn’t a romantic.

He had already accepted the very idea that his alpha would not love him.

He doesn’t need it.

Love did not bring his omega parent any happiness, no matter how overflowing their love for Desmond’s alpha father had been.

What he needed was an alpha who would take care of him and any child he would bear.

So he used his scent to weaken the alpha’s defenses.

It was Desmond who made it impossible for Altaïr to resist.

And so Altaïr claimed him.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond escaped a few weeks after Altaïr killed Rashid but before AC Bloodlines. (So late Sept, early Oct)

He was on his way to Alamut to talk to Diya al-Dīn about being the new mentor (he doesn’t want to be the next mentor) and they actually spent Desmond’s heat in a random abandoned home

Alamut Assassins found them afterwards and, by that point, Desmond was sooo thoroughly claimed that there was no way to say that Altaïr wasn’t his alpha.

This also changed Altaïr’s desire to not be the mentor because the easiest way to keep Desmond by his side is to be the mentor of Masyaf with his marriage to Desmond being a way to ‘mend’ the broken relationship between Alamut and Masyaf.

Desmond’s father was not pleased but fuck him, by law, Desmond was now the property of his mate and Altaïr has no qualms killing the asshole if he doesn’t stop yapping about how he raised Desmond and should have the final say on everything.

He returns to Masyaf and… sorta kicked all the Flowers of Paradise. To be more exact, they were transferred to another part of the fortress while the entirety of Paradise became Desmond’s new home. (Desmond and his most definitely growing child)

That is the second headache Malik got.

The first one was the fact that Altaïr returned with Alamut’s blessing as the mentor (which Altaïr had stressed he would never take) and an omega mate (which he had always said would never happen)

Desmond is free to go anywhere in Masyaf but he will always have guards on him because security reason.

Desmond believes Altaïr’s affection stemmed from the fact that he did more or less coerced Altaïr to biting him during the throes of heat-induced passion so he wants a child to further keep Altaïr ‘happy’ and satisfied (not knowing that the mentor title isn’t passed down from father to son in Masyaf, he honestly believe Altaïr is Rashid’s adopted son)

Altaïr was never fully enthralled during Desmond’s heat. He has been trained to have high tolerance as part of Rashid’s plan to make him the ultimate ‘attack dog’. He marked Desmond fully knowing Desmond was desperate and was trying to ‘seduce’ him.

Honestly, Altaïr just wanted Desmond because his scent had been the sweetest ambrosia he had ever smelled and he believed that meant they were meant to be.

And he will not let anyone get between them, no matter who they may be.

[gingerteaonthetardis]

Autumnal doctor/rose, i lov it! How about ninerose and some alien hot cider?

thank you so much for this prompt, nonny! <3 hope you enjoy the fluff! and as always, please forgive any mistakes. i am my own worst grammatical enemy.

[read on AO3]

"That can't be right."

Through the doorway, he watched Rose laugh as she dumped yet another fistful of pseudocinnamon into a giant cauldron. The TARDIS had dug both out of storage—or generated them spontaneously, the Doctor suspected. He certainly would have noticed the cauldron before: the thing was massive, a piping hot shade of orange that assaulted the eyes, tall enough that Rose could barely see over the rim after hauling it up onto the hob. It was so fanciful and absurd he couldn't believe it was supposed to be functional.

It was also exactly what Rose had asked for.

Could hardly be a coincidence, could it?

You spoil her, he thought with a brief, mild accusatory glance upward. But he was not favoured with so much as a blinking light.

Typical.

The Doctor had always known the TARDIS had favourites, but he'd never in all his lives experienced such blatant, unrepentant spoiling of a travelling companion! The first time he'd seen Rose's bedroom—or, more accurately, palatial bedroom suite—he'd been gobsmacked. Her bed was enormous, at least twice the size of his. Though he wasn't much for throw pillows, hardly any aboard the ship had escaped the journey to Rose's bed; it was a miracle she could sit on the thing, let alone sleep there. And the eightieth century hi-fi teledeck?

No longer the centrepiece of the media room.

Which he was still sulking about.

But this was a new level of indulgence. The ship didn't just create matter out of nothing; everything had to come from somewhere—usually her vast stores of past rooms. To come up with something completely new involved energy transference. Effort. Time.

And, to create something as specific as a garish orange cooking cauldron? Care.

Shaking his head, he stepped inside the little galley kitchen. He'd followed his nose thus far, but the scent grew even more potent the moment he passed the threshold and into the sweltering heat of the narrow space.

"What do you mean?" Rose was asking, turning to look at him with big, worried eyes. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, nose and lips a berry pink. "This is exactly what the barista told me to do!" She rapidly dusted off her palms, a cloud of warm brown powder dispersing into the air, carrying with it the spicy, faintly floral scent of the cloned cinnamon root native to Chame. It made his nose itch. "Why would he lie?"

The Doctor scoffed. "To keep you coming back, Rose! All the way across the charted universe—dragging me and my poor ship with you—just to get your hands on the real thing," he said, with a grumbling noise of displeasure as punctuation. "Probably a bit of clever salesmanship."

Rose's smile slipped a little, prompting an unpleasant dip in his own stomach. It wasn't fair to her, him being so obviously jaded.

After all, the barista had been perfectly nice. To Rose.

Specifically.

"Was that a harrumph? Did you just harrumph at me?" Rose's head cocked, and the grin she set loose on him was a true blue Rose Tyler special, top to bottom: eyes sparkling, tongue curled around her teeth, and with a certain jaunty angle to her chin that told him she was gloating for some reason he didn't want to think too hard about, lest he actually find out what in the world she meant by it.

"Here, put this on. You can help," she said, turning to withdraw—from one of the kitchen's many and dangerously full drawers—an apron that didn't quite match her own. Hers had cheerful, smiling Jack-o'-lanterns all over a white backdrop, nestled amidst illustrations of autumn leaves and lit candles and seasonally appropriate candies that nobody he'd ever met actually enjoyed.

His apron... also had pumpkins on it.

"Oi! Is that s'posed to be me?"

He snatched the article from her hands, pulling it up to look closer at the frowny, grumpy-looking illustrations dotting the black fabric. The eyes and mouths of the Jack-o'-lanterns were slightly puckered, like someone had left the pumpkins out in rough weather for a few days, and it gave them a uniformly sour, Scrooge-like expression.

His gaze narrowed, and Rose pressed her lips together, like she desperately didn't want to laugh. "Don't look like that," she managed, raising her hands. "I just asked her for aprons."

The Doctor scowled, even as a part of him perked up. Aprons, plural. Had she wanted him to join her all this time? Why hadn't she said anything?

"Anyway, don't worry," she went on carelessly, "nobody's here to see you in it."

You are, he thought in spite of himself.

His eyes followed her as she took back the apron and motioned for him to bend so she could drape it around his neck. The brush of her jumper-clad arms against his hair made the tips of his ears tingle and grow warm, and he ducked his head nearly to his chest in sudden awkwardness. The few moments it took for her to make a knot would give him just enough time to get hold of his rebellious—not to mention ridiculous—biology, he decided.

Don't be daft, came his stern internal voice.

There. Job done.

When he righted himself, Rose was beaming. "I dunno," she said, tipping her head this way and that, observing him, her ponytail flopping about. "I think it works for you."

"Do you now?" He looked down at the frowning pumpkins spread across his chest; they were even more wrinkled and unpleasant viewed upside-down.

But if Rose thought differently...

"Yeah." She nodded more definitely. "Very good look."

Well, then.

-

Making the cider took more time but was somehow less involved than it seemed Rose had expected.

Aside from grinding up all the pseudocinnamon and quartering the apples—they hadn't picked up any authentic Autogolds on their last grocery stop, but had some lovely Galas to hand—the other steps were quick and simple. Most of the process was a load of hurry up and wait.

Which left them with little to do but hover around the cauldron, breathing in the steam and knocking hips when they got too close. Which was often.

"What's so great about this cider anyway?" the Doctor finally asked, after a few moments of grinning at one another across the cauldron. He dipped the wooden spoon in for another sample, wondering when he'd suddenly taste what made it special enough for Rose to go to all this effort.

He remembered the overly-friendly barista, smiling with all his teeth. He remembered walking around the market stalls afterwards, Rose beaming and pointing out every little thing that caught her eye while the sun set. He remembered sudden warm pressure—how she hid her face against his shoulder when a stiff wind blew through the courtyard, setting all the beads in the jewelers' tents tinkling and flashing. There were no skittering leaves to speak of, but the whole scene had given a passable impression of a mild Earth autumn day.

It had been a good day, yes. But the cider had been rather ordinary.

Rose nudged his hip again, then deftly pulled the spoon from his hand. "Stop messing with it, or it's never gonna brew right. We're s'posed to let it sit." She replaced the lid, closing in the steam and the gentle sound of simmering. Then she sighed. "I dunno. The barista told me all the ingredients and how to make it and it all seemed fairly normal, I guess, but there was just something about it—comforting. Couldn't put my finger on why. Maybe because it was such a perfect day," she added absently, fiddling with the hem of her apron.

The Doctor stilled. "Perfect?"

When he looked at her face, her eyes were on the floor. "Yeah. Think it was."

"Not... boring?" he asked, wishing she'd look up at him. But she was just crossing one foot over another, concentrating on her shoelaces. He wondered why.

After they'd dropped Adam off on Earth, he recalled with a scowl, he had gone a bit mad with the easy trips. Just a little break, he called it. But their "break" had turned into weeks of short stops on interesting—but more importantly, peaceful—worlds. Playing tourists.

At first, neither of them had really known what to do with themselves in these sorts of places. Relaxation was anathema. And Rose had been around long enough to know you never took off your running shoes, not ever, so she didn't quite let her guard down either. They'd wandered around, taking in the sights—Rose was never short on curiosity and clever questions—but it was always with their backs up. Ready for anything. It was a vigilance neither exactly knew how to shrug off.

Especially after he'd nearly lost her.

And she knew it.

They would meet each other's eyes and just know what the other was thinking of. The Dalek, the laser to the back of her head. Incomplete goodbyes over a staticky video. And the fear in her eyes when he'd run toward her with a gun in his hands. He hadn't felt that kind of shame in... a long, long while.

But they'd survived.

It took every moment of those two weeks to make him believe it. And it was only once they landed on Chame, in that market—so familiar, so Earth-like, and yet so different—that the calm finally found them. Arm in arm, meandering through a crowd with warm cups of cider in their hands. He'd realised then he wasn't waiting for the next thing to come around the corner. And neither was she.

Time had passed since that day on Chame. Back to the old life. The adventures. Neither of them could bear to stand still for long, or rest on their laurels. There were so many worlds needed saving, where time and tide of history had to be set right. It was never-ending.

It was their life.

But not the only part. Was that why she wanted to recreate the cider?

"No," Rose said after a moment. "Not boring. Not for me." She finally looked up, eyes soft. Shrugging helplessly. "Could never get bored with you."

The Doctor swallowed. Her proximity was like gravity.

He felt himself tipping into it. Giving in to it. Hands lifting to settle on her arms. and his head falling forward, lips coming to rest gently on her crown. Her hair smelled like apples and cinnamon and warm human.

It would have been impossible for him to say it, but he had no doubt she knew.

That day hadn't been boring for him either. It had been... more than good.

It had been perfect. The day's very ordinariness made it unusual, standing out like a burning star amidst their murkier, often more difficult travels. Its simplicity—its uncomplicated pleasures—made it rare and maybe even worth recreating. Sometimes.

"All right, then," he said. "We'll have cider." He couldn't say all he felt, couldn't tell her he understood, because he didn't know exactly what he felt. Like a pinching deep within him, clenching tight around his hearts. The Dalek had called it love; his people might have called it foolishness.

All the Doctor knew was, he wanted more perfect days with her.

[fivefeetfangirl]

omg hiii!! hope ur doing good 😊 re ur tags on the post about reading a lot of time travel fics lately 👀👀 do you have any recs ? I feel like ive devoured the trope there arent any good ones left 😩

Hi nonny!!

Based on your ask it seems like you've probably read more time travel fics than me haha I just started like 3 weeks ago. And these are what I've read so far (I would rec them all, they're all very good):

crossing lines by sometimeswelose which is about s1 dean getting transported into s15. read the tags on this one tho!

in this louisiana bar by fleeceframe where s10 cas travels back to s1 dean. in the next part s10 cas travels back to s4 dean

psalm 40:2 by unicornpoe where s15 cas travels back to pre-series dean

I haven't read this one but been recced it, time has come today by teen_dean where 19 year old dean from 1998 is brought to 2020 to help with a hunt

If you have any recs for me feel free to send another ask <33 or if anyone wanna add to this post, please do!

[stunie]

cleared my schedule for the umemiya fic.

AAAAA please nonnie i love you so much 😭 this made me smile so hard hsjsmmm

aaa tbh (rambling): i’ve never been this nervous to post writing though ?! is it because it’s umemiya ?! my first long wind breaker post ?! IDK AAAAAAAAA I KEEP READING IT IM LOSING MY MIND I FEEL LIKE I HAVE THE WHOLE THING MEMORIZED

[tavina-writes]

So I started The Legend of Heroes and I'm a little lost. I don't really get how small gio jing killed meng ziyi's evil husband. Should I go watch a different version(2017?) or will all be explained in this one?

Hi Nonny!

So originally, this show was supposed to air in this configuration and order:

Part 1: Eastern Heretic & Western Venom (Ashes of Time): 8 episodes

Part 2: Northern Beggar & Southern Emperor: 8 episodes

Part 3: Sword Meet at Mount Hua: 6 episodes

Part 4: The 9 Yin Manual: 8 episodes <- where the backstory of how small Guo Jing killed Evil Meng Ziyi's Evil Husband happens for realsies instead of a brief flashback

Part 5: Iron Hearted Loyalists (Hot Blooded) <- where we are at the start of what we have currently been watching

They changed the order of airing from it's original configuration to I think Part 5 -> Part 1-4, so that's why some of the editing choices here don't quite make a ton of sense based on seeing only Part 5. I do think it helps a ton to have seen a version of LOCH prior to this due to the way that it's airing, but after all the parts have aired, watching it in the originally intended order will likely clear up a whole ton.

The reason there are five parts instead of just one 60 episode part is bc they're trying to explain to the censors that no really, this is five different dramas! not one drama wearing five trench coats trying to sneak past the censors! really! they've even got different directors and everything! ignore how uhhh all the same actors and yeah yeah.

I think because this is such a popular story in China, they figured it'd be totally okay for us to just see part 5 first without the other parts because part 5 had the most hype/excitement and is where the bulk of the novel is and that no one would be confused, but for people who have never experienced a LOCH before, they are, understandably, extremely confused!

The tldr of why small Guo Jing killed Meng Ziyi's evil husband though is that he tripped over small Guo Jing during a life and death fight with the 7 shifus, picked up small Guo Jing and went "what the fuck" and small Guo Jing stabbed him by accident in the one place he could actually be stabbed to death with a very sharp dagger. It was all kind of a dreadful mistake. And terribly embarrassing for Chen Xuanfeng honestly.

[butwhatifidothis]

Tbf to Dorothea's hypocrisy on CF, couldn't that be blamed more on the fact that the vast majority of the optional recruits in that route are written heavily out-of-character so they can side with Edelgard, including Dorothea herself?

It doesn't fix 3H not realizing that she's much more priviliged than an average commoner, but i feel like Dorothea being hypocritical on CF is is more an example of that route's generally clownish character writing than something specifically wrong with her imo.

character hate under the cut it goes

If it weren't for Ferdinand I'd say sure, but that specific aspect of her hypocrisy stays with her no matter the route. She's never angry at Edelgard. Ever. She's only ever regretful that they have to fight each other, and never shows off that she feels betrayed by Edelgard's actions. She can stay pissed at Ferdinand for what he did as a fuckin' NINE YEAR OLD CHILD put into AN INSANELY FLUSTERING SITUATION for a child to be randomly put into out of nowhere - and stay mad at him FOR OVER A DECADE - because it hurt her feelings, but she had a chill year with Edelgard (that gets revealed to her to be built on a foundation of lies and blood) so that means she's chill with Edelgard's

ATTEMPTED

MURDER

and will NEVER bring that event up, and will NEVER get pissed at her for doing it. Even though HER LIFE WAS NEARLY ENDED because of it.

And also, she still does explicitly hate nobility on all routes - she will lambast them for crawling back to the player's army once Edelgard is defeated out of self-interest. She'll praise and cry for Bergliez for giving up his life to spare his men, and that and hating nobles would all be just fine... except she does all this without ever acknowledging who exactly it was that caused Bergliez's sacrifice to be a necessity in the first place. You know, the one who threw everyone into war? For her own benefit? That thing Dorothea literally just got finished showing off she didn't like nobles doing? But it's fine if her bestie does it!

So, not really - while CF certainly does exacerbate these issues in Dorothea, they are always there to some degree regardless of where she's at

[heronchildlove]

can I request a sort of canon-compliant abandoning-of-all-hope Matthew who would rather never become involved sexually/romantically with someone again if he can't be with James? Maybe a little older, and a little wiser, lamenting his missed chance?

Nonnie, nonnie come here, your MIND nonnie, ahhhh this was such a good prompt, I love making Matthew suffer 😈 (he is my fave, can you all tell?). Hope you like it!

~~**~~

The doors of the Ruelle welcomed him like an old friend, as they always did. He might not drink anymore, haven't done so in years, but that wasn't the only vice the Ruelle offered.

In many ways, this had been his first vice. A devil-like grin, a smooth voice, a hand offering his first drink, a hot mouth offering his first kiss, his first everything. Not a member of the orchestra then, just an assistant, but already just as arrogant. Matthew still envied, sometimes, his easy self-confidence. His own was still a work in progress.

A glance showed him the stage was empty and an antsy unease settled over him. If he wasn't there, he would have to take his chances on someone in the crowd, and he had learned early what a Russian roulette that was.

His thoughts were cut short by a hand encircling his waist and a sharp kiss to the back of his neck. A smooth voice taunted next to his ear:

"Miss me already, Fairchild?"

He didn't. Not really. He missed, as he always did, a certain other brunette, with hair the colour of night and eyes the colour of gold. His other half that had always known him better than himself, even when Matthew tried to push him away. An other half that had been happily married in his house on Curzon street for years, that left an ever-present hole on his heart and soul. A chasm in the shape of James Herondale.

Matthew had been trying for years to fill that hole with another shape, even the one of James' own wife, but it was useless. After the excitement died down, after a few weeks or days or hours, the hole came back even more powerful than before.

Eventually, he had stopped seeking any others but one. Even in his roughly acquired sober clarity, he didn't like dwelling too much on why this was. Maybe it was their history. Kellington had been his first: kiss, lover, disappointment, heartbreak, vice. He didn't know exactly how not to seek him out, how not to come when he called. Maybe he would always be bad at resisting things that would kill him, and in the absence of alcohol he had clung to Kellington all the more.

But now even that was failing him. The past few times hadn't brought him the usual relief of forgetting, the usual bandage over the hole. He didn't want to think too much about it, even now he still hated to be left alone with his thoughts, didn't like dwelling on anything for too long. Melancholy didn't suit him, but sometimes it was all he had left.

He didn't want to think about why recently Kellington's voice made him shiver with disgust instead of excitement, why his arm around his waist made him want to crawl out of his skin instead of pulling him close. So instead he just smiled.

"Parts of you, I would say. The best ones."

"All my parts are the best parts."

"Hmm, but some have better parts than yours."

Matthew found his world spinning, his back hitting the wall, Kellington's arms caging him on both sides.

"Oh yeah? Whose?"

He used to love this: the jealousy, the possessiveness. Even after they had broken up, Kellington still treated him as his, and he used to love feeling like at least someone in this world wanted him, claimed him, unlike a certain other someone.

Now it just made him want to scream.

He got reminded, suddenly, of another time when Kellington's arm was over him on the wall. It was one of the only times he had ever told him no, and over the only reason why: James. It was the night of his bachelor party, he had come to drop Cordelia off, and Kellington had tried to take him to one of their usual back rooms, but James was waiting and that was the most important thing. Kellington had been furious then, which used to eat at Matthew like rot on iron. He didn't think he would mind if Kellington got angry at him now.

"I met a mermaid with hair made of gold, I apologise but not even your silky locks can compete with that."

Kellington looked taken aback for a moment and then laughed.

"Glad to see you still know your place, Fairchild."

His place, right beneath Kellington's boot. He had always been allowed to float around and sleep with whomever he wanted, as long as he always came back. Even the thing with Cordelia - another childish, desperate attempt to rid him of his true feelings - had cost him nothing more than a few weeks of taunting. After all, he had come back defeated in the end anyway, as he always did.

"How could I ever forget?" Matthew taunted back, and pulled Kellington close by his lapels, ending all chance of talking with a kiss. But even this, once again, didn't bring him glorious relief, it only felt wrong and disappointing.

Even without wanting to, he was reminded of the scene a couple of weeks ago, of James kissing Cordelia passionately, like she was his whole world and sun. Because she was. She had just announced to him, to them - because he was so important to them she wanted him there, too - that she was pregnant, and Matthew had to smile as the last nail was pushed down on his coffin.

Ever since then, this disgust with Kellington had started - the poisoning of his last hope -, but he was refusing to think about it, as he did with many many things. If he started thinking too deeply about these things, the craving for a drink started burning inside of him, so he didn't think, and pulled Kellington harder against him instead.

Kellington walked him backwards, blindly, down the hallway - but Matthew didn't need to look, they had crossed this same path so many times it was engraved on his body -, until they reached the door to one of the many private rooms in the Ruelle, and Matthew let himself fall as Kellington pushed him down on his favourite couch. It was a deep green, and he always said the colour suited Matthew.

Matthew had had two coats made of this same colour to wear to the Ruelle, but now he felt the insane urge to cut them to shreds, and the couch, too.

Kellington's hands on him that usually excited him on the first touch now felt like spiders crawling on his skin. These were not the hands he wanted, had never been, and now he seemed unable to ignore it anymore.

Through all the years, there was only one pair of hands, one touch of lips, one voice in his ear that he had ever wanted: James's.

He had been in love with James for so long he didn't know how to separate it from who he fundamentally was anymore. As long as James Herondale existed, Matthew Fairchild loved him, it was one of the cornerstones of his existence. Even if either of them ceased to exist, the particles that made up who Matthew was would love him until the end of the universe, and most likely even after that.

He was so tired of pretending he didn't, but what did that matter? He would have to pretend and keep pretending for the rest of his life, this was a truth he would never be able to admit except from in the darkest most hidden corners of his soul, and often not even then.

He was so tired of kissing strangers and pretending they were him, he was so tired of kissing Kellington to forget even for a moment he was not the one he wanted to be kissing. He was so tired of it all.

So he did something he had never wanted before: he pushed Kellington away.

The other growled. "What?"

"I... I..." Matthew's head was spinning. It was his own fault he was stuck in this never-ending nightmare, so maybe he didn't deserve to break free of it. If he had had the courage to tell James how he really felt instead of asking him to be his parabatai, if he had been more present, if he had been able to break him free from Grace's curse before Cordelia ever came along, if he, if he-

But he hadn't. And now all hope was lost forever. James and Cordelia would have a child, they were the happiest they had ever been in their lives, and Matthew would be more and more cast aside to nothing near them, always looking from outside into their happiness, never again part of what truly meant more to James. Cut off from even the crumbs he had had before.

A sob broke free from his throat and he pushed Kellington away fully, getting up from the couch and running away from the room, ignoring the other's callings and threats behind him. He ran through the streets until he didn't know where he was anymore and threw himself down on a patch of grass on a small square near him, arm over his eyes shielding him from the prying stars. He had left his coat behind and his clothes were in disarray, barely protecting him from the chilly air, but he didn't care.

He had to admit, once and for all, there was truly only one person for him. From the start, his only vice had always been and would always be only James, the only vice he would never be able to indulge in. And if he couldn't have him, what did it matter everyone and everything else?

He would always be stuck exactly in this same place. An insect frozen forever in the eternal amber of James' eyes. But there really was no other place where he would rather be, so he might as well just give up once and for all.

He would be just like Oscar, forever begging for scraps at the table of James' love, and perhaps - just as sometimes he took pity on Oscar and gave him some food from his plate - James would sometimes take pity on him, too.

That would have to be enough.

[sirtadcooper]

Twelve icons of the Thirteenth Doctor (Doctor Who) in blue.

Requested by anonymous.

250 x 250px.

Please like/reblog if you use or save them, thank you! :)

Want another colour? Just ask.

My other Doctor Who icons are tagged with #dw icons.

My old icons are available via my icons page and icons tag.

Icons under the cut:

[teddybeartoji]

he helps you put on the helmet and then gently headbutts you after putting his on.

And He clicks on the chin strap for you.

he smooths your hair after you pull the helmet off.

he takes your hand and tugs you to the lonely little food stall.

These small details are fluttering my heart. Sorry I might be crying right now. You are the bigger brained one among us. End. And the bike selection omg basic or not idfc, looks super cool <3 this made me feel so much better!.

One of the nights he'd teach you how to ride btw. I casually came across a video on yt that taught how to ride. I have a feeling, he'd play that and make you watch for some reason😭 And if you already know how to ride, he's behind hugging you close. Calls himself ur backpack. Asks you to go faster. He pulls the brake often!!! and yk why 👀. His stupid ass does the "vroom" sound. He is definitely shouting some song lyrics.

This is stupid but he might borrow https://pin.it/5lI6wsBVI from some kid while you both are out and take you some nearby.

I'M SORRRRYY THIS WENT INTO MY DRAFTS AND THEN IT KINDA GOT LOST IN THERE!!!! BUT I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HERE!!!!!

OMGGGG HE WOULD LOVE TO BE YOUR BACKPACK THOUGH!!!!! like he would looooooooooooooooooooooooove that shit. c'mon he gets to hold you close while you're being all Sexy and shit whooowee. but srsly i think he'd have so much fun back there. he's tapping on your thighs, he's looking around and he's doing his utmost best to not point out every single thing he sees bc well... you are holding the fucking wheel yk lmao he can't be too big of a distraction.

he's trying to make you sit on the handlebars of the regular bike and then you both fall lmao and he loves it when you act all mad, hitting his shoulder and everything - we could've died, satoru! yeah, yeah, he's just laughing in your face with pink cheeks. he's such a little shit i love him

[dimdiamond]

Ange drawing tintin https://youtu.be/lbCrxfW4g4w

That night Tintin and Ange slept in the master bedroom and Haddock slept in the garden.

He kept laughing all night and he was lucky they couldn't hear him from outside.

Jokes on him, though, because Ange went years later to art school.

[sunnysideaeggs]

what do you imagine the relationship like between Daeron and Alicent, and the rest of his siblings? like how would you cast it/present it if you could, and what would be his intro to the show? xx

In my Daeron feels getting ready for S2 <3333

Daeron is a kind of mysterious type of guy for me, the undeniable hero of Team Green and surrounded by mystery in his life and death.

By all means he’s a good kid, his mom’s favorite and the golden child. Being the youngest he probably was closer to Alicent than most of his siblings, and was the one they protected the most. I can see him getting a strict Hightower education (faith of the seven, scholarly inclined, politics and diplomacy) and excelling at it. Otto secretly wishing he was the firstborn lol.

I can see him looking up to his big brothers. He trains hard to be like Aemond, and cut his hair short like Aegon. Maybe as a kid he was following around Aegon and laughing at his jokes, and wanted so bad for Aemond to teach him to fight <3333

He gives me young Jaime and Sansa vibes, liking the stories about knights and fairytales. Him listening to Hel and her prophecies <333 or them both making life at court. Him and Hel were the most beloved of the Targtowers, so maybe Alicent took them both to do charity or to pray together. PR king.

Ideally, I would have introduced him by the time Jacaerys was born. Instead of the Joffrey birth scene, we can have a Jace birth scene along with a Daeron one. It would’ve brought more Rhaenyra/Alicent parallels and given Alicent a much needed birth scene, which the writers didn’t gave her. It makes the timeline smoother, the time jumps smaller and gives more time to develop the factions and rift between A/R. Also it brings a Jace/Daeron parallel too, as they’re the only heros of the dance. They were supposed to have shared the cradle. It also makes noise about Vizzy having a child and a grandchild the same age. But alas, hotd writers can’t write.

In S2, I would introduce Daeron by Otto sending ravens to their allies around Westeros. They’re our ‘eyes’ in all this. We can get some sneak peeks of how the ideological side of the conflict affects lords around Westeros and even peasants. For example, would a lord be more willing to support Aegon because he has a married older sister whose children could lay claim to his castle? Or a heiress lady who fears her bastard older brother? We can give actual reasons for the greens having support instead of “SHE HAS A PWUSSY, SHE CANT RULE” narrative the writers were pushing on S1.

And then, we have Oldtown. The great high tower, the citadel, the city vibrant and lively. We get closer, and in the training yard there’s our boy. A happy teen, he’s training with a few knights and the master of arms mentions how just recently he started training with real steel (this is important, shows his youth and how he’s not yet ready for war). From above, Gwayne (I’m going to assume he’s at Oldtown, since there was no mention of him at court lol) and Ormund are talking about the future, how Daeron is doing good, how will they start ‘movements’, etc. Ormund is called by his maester (the raven by Otto) and Gwayne gets a lil uncle-nephew bonding moment where Dae shows all his charisma and endears the audience because he’s the best boy.

While they talk (idk about what, how he misses him mom and sibs?) they head somewhere to see the blue queen, Tessarion, in all her magnificence. She’s happily purring while some maesters take care of her (grand maester conspiracy!) and make some annotations about godknowswhat. Tess and Dae bonds and Gwayne stays behind saying ‘he doesn’t trust dragons’.

(Just as an annotation, if Gwayne was indeed at KL and they just forgot to invite him to the coronation in E9, Ormund watches Dae alone, the talk can be done between Ormund and Dae, and the maester with the letter can be an ending to the scene with Tessarion. I am a flexible queen.)

The rest of the episode continues, yadda yadda. Btw, this is the first episode, Vhagar-ate aftermath. War is now imminent and this episode centers in the game of thrones aspects of all of this. We can also add Nyra grieving, Daemon being slimy and Aemond getting the chancla. Aegon’s party is a must too. We can even get Alicent being worried about her son at Oldtown, wishing he was with her and she could protect him (</3). If you want to get REALLY bookish, get me an old and wrinkled Vaegon at the citadel, frowning and staying tf out of it. As an easter egg.

At the end of the episode, we go to Oldtown again and Ormund sent for Daeron in his office. He asks him about family, politics, etc (makes him smart and gives redundancy to why the greens are fighting for). Ormund then asks about Tessarion, and how she’s growing well, etc. How she could fight in battles, if the need arose. Dae understands the danger and shows his loyalty to his family. Then we get the news of Vizzy, Aegon, Luke, etc. Daeron finishes with ‘What happens next?’, having a frame of his face. The shot ends. We get a view of Oldtown at night, getting closer to the high tower. We watch the beacon light up green. The credits roll up.

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[r-truth]

Edits of both referee punk and aj counting to two please https://youtu.be/IhPWXyOuweg?si=0QZWpPwdlr-XhN0E 2:14:12

hello nonnie!!! posted <3

[rinhaler]

hello! i have a question abt your toxic megumi fic :) ! it may be a stupid question if so i apologize and you don’t have to answer this but it’s been on mind since i’ve read it, so megumi doesn’t love the reader if not how does he feel towards her? sorry once again if it’s a stupid question 😭!

Hi lovely! Not a stupid question at all thank you for asking this 🥺

He actually is very much in love with the reader but it’s such a toxic and controlling love it can definitely be misconstrued as other feelings. Megumi is very very very insecure in that particular story I wrote because he knows the reader is very beautiful and popular and worries she’ll leave him eventually. But he’s also very smart and because of his manipulative nature he knows how to get her exactly where he wants. He wants her to need him and be addicted to him and she unfortunately plays right into his hand every time. They both cheat on each other bc they are both super toxic but in the end he knows he can get away with murder when it comes to the reader because she’ll never be able to give up on him and how much she loves him. It would take a huge influence to make her leave him, it’s more or less impossible. He cheats bc he knows she’ll be angry but ultimately it scares her more than anything that she’ll lose him. She’ll cheat as an act of revenge but she and Megumi both know she’ll never find a good enough replacement for him no matter what.

So yeah in short, he does love her and he’s just a horrendous prick about it.

And if the end of the fic is the part that confused you, he didn’t say it back because he rarely does! He’ll say it at random times that give her hope that they have a good relationship but it’s, again, just to keep her under control. She worries when he doesn’t say it back to her and makes her want to make him love her back. So it’s just a never ending cycle really 😭

I Hope that was clear I’m sorry if it didn’t help or was a bit rambly, feel free to ask me anything you’re confused about! I love answering asks about my stories so this was very welcome 🥺🥺 thank you!