#but in a way I can really relate to as i was growing up and people expected me to play into this.. disney princess-esque persona

[yagamiraaky]

OK but you have to keep in mind that Minecraft has been around for a loong time, and even if it was indie when it was developed, it was quickly picked up by a big company (microsoft) that would just throw money at it. It's team is somewhat big, it is incentivized to come up with new content at least once a year.

I just looked into vintage story, and the game was released in 2016 by a Latvian team of 8 people. It doesn't have the resources to keep pumping new content in the game to make it bigger.

I remember when Minecraft was in beta, and even when it released, and it had like 4 biomes... And if it never got the resources it did, it probably would never be past the like 6 biomes and the basic mobs. Go play the first versions of bedrock Minecraft and tell me you don't get bored after a week of playing.

Also, age has a big influence in this. When you are young you can feel entertained hours on end with very little, but as you grow up and start relating to things and understanding the world around you better, and yourself as a person, you start wanting specific things from things, that you didn't previously. Which is what I think is happening to you. So the solution I would say is keeping with what you know you like, or continue searching until something clicks, but keeping an open mind and maybe search out of your comfort zone. Try platformers, action games, rpgs, rogue-likes, and you will maybe find something that intersects your interests.

I'll give you my example: I love pokemon, and have been playing since it came out, when I was 6 years old. But I hate it's genre of games, which are turn based rpgs. Every other turn based rpg I've tried I felt was too slow for me and I hate how much I have to strategize to play them. I just want a good story and to melt through the enemies, maybe have difficult battles, but that aren't dependent on me having to play 5d chess to do them. So I found out, quite recently, that although I love pokemon, my favourite genre of games is actually action rpgs. I still play every single main line pokemon game that comes out, but I don't play turn based rpgs beyond that. I can't stand them. Also platformers are not for me. I grew up playing Mario, but they are really not something that I love playing.

So, again, I suggest you trying something different, and find the genre that you really like. Also, you could look into walkthroughs and gameplay videos to see if you'd like something before playing it. But don't feel too stuck on the "right way to play the game". The right way is the way you enjoy it.

i am now bored of vintage story.

i used to get absorbed in games so easily and i played nothing but minecraft for legit 5 years so this era of picking up new games and getting bored of them quickly is disconcerting to say the least

[earlycuntsets]

“I CONSIDERED MYSELF TO BE MORE OF A GIRL”

A CONVERSATION WITH GERARD WAY from theboyzine.com 1/18/2015

"Gerard way is the renaissance-type singer songwriter // Goth prince frontman // comic book artist // proud father best known for both his solo music and his band My Chemical Romance. We got a chance to ask him a few questions in early January. Enjoy!

What is your favorite animal?

I would have to say an ape; for a long time I didn’t take the time to know the difference between primates, but my wife and I have been really into animals—apes are just very gentle creatures.

As an emotional professional, how do you feel when people tell you to man up?

You know, growing up as a boy you are always told not to show your emotions, that it is a sign of weakness. I have been lucky enough to lead a life where I can celebrate how I really feel—but there is still negative attention towards it and it is still considered weakness.

Is there a point, then, where one does need to (for lack of a better word) man up?

You know I really don’t like that phrase. “man up”, because it implies that emotional strength in rough times is a masculine trait, when in reality some of the strongest people I know are women. But yes, there are a lot of times when you should control your emotions–  times of crisis and need where you really can’t let them get involved. I have learned to pull my emotions out of a lot of big decisions.

You often make it a point to spread the message of gender equality in your shows. Could you describe that a little bit?

It is something I have been lucky enough to be educated about. I generally try to pay attention to it, make sure I get my facts from the best sources and whatnot, and I really relate to it. I never really subscribed to the archetype masculinity growing up, I had no interest in sports or anything like that. There was a time where I was called a girl so often that when I discovered the idea of transgenderism I considered myself to be more of a girl. So I identify with trans people and women a lot because I was a girl to a lot of people growing up. When I was doing MCR I think I finally got to display my femininity through the glam theatrical aspects of the band. It made me feel more hopeful, that I was allowed to be flamboyant. I want to make sure women and men and everyone in between feel safe and empowered.

Was there a person or thing that first sparked your interest in feminism?

When I was around 16 I became friends with these really cool girls, and that’s how I got exposed to Bikini Kill, Helium, Bratmobile—that was the real punk. All the other hardcore scenes at the time were a little bit hypermasculine and violent, which was totally unappealing to me. But here are these bands—Bikini Kill, et cetera that were actually talking about important things. That was real punk. Great bands.

What sort of advice can you offer to all of us boyz reading?

You have to surround yourself with ‘the others’. Whether they’re the creatives that you know or whatever it is. Because you guys will feed each other, that’s the nature of people. Find companions who will push you in the field you are in.

Do you hang onto traces of boyishness? Comics and digging up worms?

Well first off I don’t consider those things boyish. I am really happy that things like comics have become less marketed specifically toward boys—did you know that 50 percent of comic book readers are girls now? There is a really great picture I saw one time of a little girl with all the spiderman toys in a toy store clearly angry that they were in the ‘boys’ section. We need to let kids have more freedom of choice in who they want to be.

But answering your question, I have always been super into comic books. I didn’t really ever like sports, so I played dungeons and dragons a lot. That was a really important creative outlet for me. Of course I still love Star wars, and biking.

How do you find ways to stay positive?

Society is so interconnected these days, there is so much noise. It is really important I think to turn the noise down, to find ways to do so. Whether you’re in a creative field or not, you need to find a way to follow what is in your gut because that noise that is so obstructive is   creeping. Think about the art you make, the people you love.

My routine is really simple but important to me. I wake up every morning and my wife and I get our daughter ready for school and I drive her there. And that’s when work begins for me. I am lucky that one day I can be recording a new song and the next I am putting all of my energy into a comic.

Do you consider your marriage to be a partnership?

I am very glad you asked. I consider my whole family dynamic a three way partnership actually. My wife and I have been partners since day one, and now our daughter is the newest addition to the mix. Of course we have different duties to each other—my wife and my job is to educate my daughter  and make her feel great and teach her how to work hard, to let her choose what she loves. That’s very important to us. It is great coming home from the road because Lindsay (my wife) and I get to work together more.

Thank you so much for doing this interview, is there anything we haven’t touched that you want to say?

Don’t chase your dreams, let your dreams chase you

[justevelynnnn]

Magic🍃

Summary: Scott has a headache so you offer him something w/ “magic” to help

Content: Scott summers x Mutant!Fem Reader

Warnings: mentioning of weed infused brownies and them being consumed & a couple of swears…

A/N: I got this idea from somewhere but I can’t remember where…it was on here actually and I was like omg I have to write this ! Ugh I love him so much….

You and Rogue made “brownies” while everyone was gone earlier. Gambit also tried to help but kept messing up so Rogue kicked him out however, he was invited to try a piece still when they were done. It was you three’s secret even though Xavier himself literally already knew, he just didn’t say anything. As long as you guys were responsible he supposed.

But it was others you worried about. Like Wolverine who probably would huff them up in minutes or Beast who’d lecture you for hours about the negative effects. Or…Scott.

The leader made it clear he was a by the book guy. Neat, serious, a rule follower ….whatever. Point was, he didn’t play games. So recreational usage ? Yeah, no. Nope.

You hide the rest in the oven since no one really cooked in there anyways and went back outside. Rogue and Gambit went off somewhere and you wanted to enjoy some outdoor air while these brownies kick in. You spent alot of time out there especially as a result of your mutation. Your powers allowed you to control all things nature. You could move water at will, control wind (but not as good as storm can), grow plants quickly and more. You loved all things nature related especially things you can use in your day to day life like herbal medicines. Or growing tea leaves to drink or even coffee beans.

You were also really into growing weed.

You knew not to get too high especially when important missions were coming up or when you knew a meeting would take place later on so only during your guaranteed free time did you try anything. Rogue caught you once but was really chill about it so now sometimes she gets high with you. But no one else. It was risky doing it but it really helped calm your nerves. Plus, Logan smoked and drank all day long so was it really that bad?

Once outside though, you see your beloved leader sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. He’s muttering something odd. Concerned, you go over to him. Maybe it’s because off the edible that he seems this way? He’s mumbling gibberish. His energy is off. Really off. You just hope that he can’t see how there’s a tint of red in your eyes.

“Hey…Scott? Youuuu okay?” you ask. You lift a hand to touch him but he suddenly looks up at you a bit, startled like he didn’t hear you approaching, which caused you to bring your hand back quickly.

“M’fine.” He says, almost in a groan. He puts his head back down and asks, “Did you need anything?”

“No..just…checking in you?” You don’t know why it came out as a question.

He says nothing.

It’s awkward for a second or two as you just stand there. It hits you that this may be one of his headache episodes Jean told you about. You felt bad for him. You wanted to stay but you get the feeling he wants you to fuck off.

He just groans again, probably in annoyance that you’re still here. It was very unlike him to act like this. This is the first time you’ve seen him in such a, pained, awkward state.

It hurt even more because he was secretly your..crush? You guess that’s the best way to describe it. It wasn’t crazy. Maybe you just admired him a lot as a strong leader. Maybe it was his good looks…. maybe. You just hoped it was a phase. It didn’t help him and Jean have a complicated relationship thing going on that he seemed more attentive to rather than looking for someone new to replace her.

You get an idea. It may be crazy but you didn’t know what else to do. Plus, you were a bit high so your decision making was a bit wonky. You rush inside the mansion and b line to the oven. You grab half a brownie and a bottle of water from the fridge. As you walk back outside you see Scott’s hands caught in his hair. It definitely seems like he’s getting worse. You hoped he accept this and not scold you and kick you off the freaking team or something.

“Hey…um, I brought you something…” You say, sitting next to him.

He lifts his head again and looks in your hands. “Water and….a brownie…?”

He says it low, like he almost was thinking out loud. He’s clearly confused.

“It..um..it has something in it that I think will help you…”

His hands are in his lap now and he’s just staring at you. His gaze feels strong for some reason even though he has the visor on.

He looks back in your hand and gently takes the brownie from you. You watch him slowly take a bite of the brownie, almost like he’s skeptical.. or maybe he is.

“It’s good, but how will this help?” Scott looks back at the ground as he finished the brownie. You almost feel guilty. You play with the bottle in your hand nervously as you think on whether you want to tell him or not. You’re scared of the possibility of him lashing out that you just secretly fed him cannabis.

It’s a couple of seconds before you answer. “They’re justtt, special.”

“Special how?”

“There’s something inside that will help you relax….”

Silence.

“….But, how?”

The question come out a bit sharp, you assume he wants a straight answer but also wonder how he can’t get the hint or has no idea seemingly. You can’t blame him though, why would he suspect a team member to be in possession of weed?

You sigh as you prepare for the worst.

“They have… weed inside.”

Scott slowly turns his head at you. He’s smiling weird. You accidentally clench the water bottle and out the corner of your eye you see some plants move around you two.

“…..What.”

You just stare nervously at his blank smile. You can’t ever really read him or his expressions sometimes but he’s definitely annoyed. Probably mad. Hopefully not furious. Definitely not happy.

It spills out of you. “I’m…I’m so sorry! I just wanted to help you and I know you hate weed and drugs and all that stuff but you looked like you were in so much pain and I just wanted to help and I know I might get kicked off the team but-”

“Hey.”

You stop. You feel a tear slipping from your eye.

“It’s okay.”

Your mouth drops. “W-what?”

“It’s fine. It’s not posion.”

You’re still frozen as Scott grabs the bottle. He’s…okay? Maybe you had too much of the brownies earlier….

“You’re…okay..? But, you hate weed! You said you-”

“I know.” He takes a weirdly large gulp of water. “But you had good intentions. So it’s fine.”

You’re still in shock from his nonchalance. Maybe he’s gonna yell later. Maybe he didn’t really understand that you just gave him a drug that he’s made so clear in the past that he hates.

He finished the water bottle quickly and just lazily throws it behind him. Okay, this may not be Scott. This might be Mystique. Or you’re hallucinating.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Or even, Scott…?”

He laughs at this but quickly winces. “Yes, I’m Scott. It’s just my head is making it hard to care about much right now.”

“Soooo, I’m not in trouble?”

“Professor knows about your sneaky behaviors already, y/n. Did you forget he can read minds? See through walls?” Shit.

You look down sighing. “Nothing gets past him. Seriously.”

“Nope.” Scott leans back on his hands. “But since he’s okay with it, so am I. Plus, Rogue told me last week.”

“Ughhhhh!” Embarrassed you put your head in your hands. Or course, Xavier & Scott knew. How could you be so dumb?

“So, when do these kick in? Sure could use it right now….” Scott looks at you smiling again. He’s amused at your embarrassment.

“It takes awhile…maybe another 40 minutes…?” You say looking away. You can’t look him in the eyes or, well, eye right now.

He laughs again. He believes it’s a placebo that’s making it seem like his headache is fading already because normally he wouldn’t be able to even move right now.

“Y’know…you’re kinda cute flustered..”

He says it so quiet you almost don’t hear it. Shocked you look back at him.

“What? Cute?”

He just nods and goes back to looking ahead at the garden in front of you two. Still shocked you just stare at him for a bit and then look at your feet. Your heart is beating quicker now and okay, why is your face heating up? You’re starting to think this is more than just a crush at this point. Not when everything he does make you feel like this.

You two sit and enjoy the sunset in silence as Scott noticeably relaxes more and more. It was only about 3mg so he shouldn’t be too affected. Just enough. He’s slouched on the bench now, it’s honestly a very rare sight to see him slouched…well, anywhere. He’s smiling at nothing again. You look at him as you literally watch him enjoy his first high. His red visor of course hides his eyes but you imagine they’re red now like yours. Deep down you’re just glad you could help him and his pain ease. And you’re a lot happy that you’re not getting expelled from the school.

Flowers grow at your feet as you just stare at him, heart fluttering. The soft warm light shined on his blissed out face, making him glow beautifully. You notice his relaxed strong arms and his soft pink lips and now tinted pink cheeks. He turns his head slowly to you like earlier except more relaxed. His dorky smile in full view now makes your heart skip a beat and you face heats up more. The flowers grow taller and there’s a slight breeze.

“Y’knowwww? You’re reallyyyy pretty…and kind….i like you, y/n…” He says it slow with that same smile.

You struggle to respond with anything more than, “Thanks, Scott…” because oh my god?!? Holy shit?? Scott Summers just said he thinks you’re pretty. This evening couldn’t get anymore magical.

You spent the rest of the evening watching the sunset with him as he laid a head on your shoulder. High Scott was quiet but definitely more laid back and more open. You enjoyed it a lot. And when it got fully dark you helped guide him back inside just to sit on the couch and enjoy each others company once more.

[redux-iterum]

I thought for a while about what I wanted to say to today's chapter, and I don't think I'll be able to say all of it regardless, but I really REALLY appreciate the emphasis you put on family in these stories.

Your willingness to accept adoption and familial bonds like that was startling (in a fantastic way) when I first read these books, and my respect for you just keeps on growing.

When I read the original books, I knew there was something about Cloudpaw and Fireheart that was just. Missing, y'know? I wanted them to love each other, and I was just not being given that. On top of having my favorite Fireheart EVER, you've done something for these characters that they desperately needed: you gave them a capacity for real and true love. (That's corny, forgive me.)

All that's to say you're a fantastic writer, and I am very sure I'll have more to say in future chapters, if the frequency doesn't bother you. Fantastic job, you two!

So firstly, I am always eager for thoughts and comments on anything about the story and characters. You (and everyone else) are definitely not bothering me when you come to my inbox and say such lovely and thoughtful things! Keep 'em coming for as often or not as you like!

Secondly, the emphasis on familial bonds is important to this story, but also to me. My family (especially my parents) is the most precious part of my personal life, so it brings me a lot of joy to write fictional families, adopted or blood-related.

The books have this complete lack of love between even siblings about 90% of the time, to the point that a cat most often won't react strongly to the death of their sister. I understand that there are a lot of cats and family lines to keep track of, but for fuck's sake, you wrote them being born and growing up together, you can give them a bond that lasts past their deaths! It's just so frustrating, you know?

[anonzentimes]

The SSS trio Is like going to a fantastic buffet because you get the Sonic, The Pure Light Hero who lives in the present and doesn’t see himself through the eyes of others, always putting others first whilst embodying adventure and virtue. Sonic is burdened by nothing and has a fun edge just from how even though he’s bold headed he’s also confidently cocky yet humble, determined, skilled, and experienced enough to always save the day.

Then you have the Dark Reluctant Anti-Hero with questionable methods who is burdened by his past time and time again, Shadow! Shadow is often fighting his own emotions or fighting with his heart impacted by Maria to risk his life to save the day. Shadow is tragic and has depth, being more morally ambiguous compared to Sonic and the rest. While Sonic is Confidently cocky yet humble, Shadow has immense ego and deep down insecurity from being raised with the expectations and belief that he is the Ultimate Lifeform. Sonic is naturally powerful while Shadow is artificially powerful, they respect each other yet butt heads occasionally and are pretty competitive as Shadow could never stand the thought of being Sonic’s Shadow and Sonic likes to have fun fighting with his equal. It’s also evident that Shadow suffers from PTSD. I think a good word for Shadow is Duality.

And last but not least, you have the perfectly Flawed Hero Silver. Silver carries the burden of the future and is perfectly flawed in comparison to the other hedgehogs as he succumbs to the pitfalls of Anxiety, Loneliness, and an Overeagerness to prove himself which allows him to have an internal struggle of self doubt and arcs about overcoming those struggles that making him a good contrast. Silver is unique as he struggles with emotions that the other hedgehogs don’t but these emotions make us root for him. It’s also evident Silver suffers from Imposter Syndrome, which ends up in him trying to prove himself to his peers despite the fact they already value him as a friend and for his heroic selflessness actions. Growing up in a horrible future of ruin, Silver has become somebody who is filled with Hope, Determination, and Optimism giving him the strength to live in harsh conditions, however this also causes him to be Naive. Emphasis on Naive, not dumb, but due to the isolation he’s had growing up he struggles with social cues and knowing who to trust causing occasional conflict from him trusting villains. As a result his closest friends are usually calm and mature people who help and reassure him such as Blaze and Espio. This isolation also causes Silver to be fascinated with the world, even small things like how pretty he finds the desert to be.

I love the SSS trio a lot, I have a hard time choosing a favorite so I refuse to! I love them all!!! I’m sure there’s stuff I missed too but this was my way of articulating them and sharing my passion. Wasn’t really focusing on their physical abilities as fitting in “also by the way Shadow can use Chaos Control to stop time and Silver has Psychokinesis,” seemed silly. Silver is the most relatable, Sonic is the most admirable, and Shadow is the most compelling. That being said they all have overlapping traits such as Silver is admirable too and blah blah blah but that’s how I’m wording it. I love these characters a lot they’re some of my favorites of all time for a reason!

Also I want to see Silver playable in a mainline game again, MAKE IT HAPPEN PEOPLE!

[umathurwin]

my boy’s a winner, he loves the game

Summary: Kiara has a big favor to ask of Rafe. Who is he to not oblige?

tags, warnings, and more on ao3!

The clinking of metal weights and Rafe’s music filled the crisp air. Every few seconds, another grunt would reverb around the gym and Kiara poked her head out further so she’d be in his line of sight.

“Kie?” he asked, dropping his 45s on the squishy floor mat, where they bounced and rolled away. “Y’scared me. Need something?”

She closed the door behind her, checking once more that no one was listening. Sarah had started another argument with John B, so it could be a while before Kiara had to return to her friend’s bedroom.

Kie swallowed thickly. “Yes, actually. It’s kind of weird, and a big thing to ask, so I need you to ignore how crazy it is for me to come to you about this.”

“You’re looking to try snow,” he nodded solemnly, reaching down for his water bottle and twisting the cap open.

“What?! No!”

He froze. He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You want to try k?”

“I don’t want any drugs, Rafe.”

His posture corrected and he brought the bottle to his mouth. “Oh. Then what?”

As he drank, several cold droplets slipped out of his mouth and down his chin, dripping onto his chest and dry fit shirt. Even in the chill at which the Camerons held their home gym, he was sweating. His smell washed over her. His eyes followed hers as she ogled him, nearly forgetting why she was there.

“Wanna hook up?” she blurted, unsure of how else to word it. Can we have sex felt too formal. Will you fuck me probably would’ve sufficed, but she lacked the bite. Especially with this lupine in front of her, reducing her to a doe-eyed stutterer.

He pulled the lip away from his mouth and used the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe off the mess from his face. This time, her eyes remained fixed north of his shoulders.

“Hmm. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Well?” she snapped, growing more edgy (and humiliated) by the second. She probably should’ve expected that he wouldn’t make this easy on her.

“Can I think about it? Oh my God…” he hollowly chastised. “If you’re gonna be this impatient when I’m inside you…”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Rafe!”

“I’m just messing with you. What’s got you so desperate? Haven’t been laid in a while?” Her eyes widened, and he connected the dots instantly. “Oh, no way. Never? How is that even possible? You’re…” Rafe waved a hand at her, but trailed off when he gained the wisdom to not comment on her appearance or how it related to her virginity.

“I just… didn’t want it to be bad. Figured I’d go to someone with at least some knowledge on the topic.”

“Really? And none of your little boys were valid candidates?”

She huffed through her nose. “That’s hilarious. Let’s go down the list together: we have the self-obsessed conspiracy theorist, the loose cannon who speaks more than he thinks, and the nerd who’s a bigger goddamn virgin than I am.”

Rafe hesitated. “Okay, I know the last one is Pope—”

“Point is,” Kiara interrupted, cutting eyes at him. “You probably can’t fathom vulnerability, and I’m really just looking for a yes or a no so I can decide if I’m gonna kill myself tonight—”

“Wow, the drama. Twist my arm a little more, why don’t you?” he said flatly. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real Saint Nick. Give me your phone,” Rafe demanded, palm open and extended to her.

She recoiled. “You’re not… gonna film it, are you?”

He processed this and a grin spread across his face. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna fuck you right now. I’m giving you my number so you don’t have to sneak around my little sister to see me.”

The confidence she’d built up with him crumbled instantly and the fever of mortification bloomed in her chest and face again. Kiara fumbled for her back pocket and handed him the device. “I— of course not! That’d be—”

“Hot,” he cut her off, offering a bit of peace for her. “I know.” His eyes flicked to the door and back down to her, then he texted himself an angel emoji. “But it just wouldn’t be right.”

With her phone returned one contact heavier, she tried not to trip on any benches on her way out.

***

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kiara spat, quickly climbing into the passenger seat of Rafe’s Land Rover anyways. He peeled out of the driveway, surely attracting the attention of any partygoers that had wandered outside. She slunk down into the seat. “When Sarah said she’d get me a ride home, I didn’t think it’d be you.”

Rafe shrugged, rolling through a stop sign and changing the song. “I owed her one. And no, she doesn’t suspect anything, so maybe relax a little?”

Not too difficult. One of Barry’s drivers had made it to the party, and she’d definitely brought a cloud of earthy aroma into his vehicle.

“Speaking of relaxing… you’re not drunk, right?”

“No, why do you— where are we going?” she asked as they flew past the turn to her street.

“We’re gonna use this time to get in some practice,” he said simply, and the smirk on his face did all but abate her worries.

“Wait, wait, I can’t— I mean, I’m not ready—”

“Little Miss Anxious, huh? Second time you’ve done that,” he said, shaking his head amusedly. “That’s not what this is. Do I need to promise to give you a heads up?”

“Uh, yeah, it’d be nice!”

“Nah.” He pulled the vehicle over to a nature preserve, one of the many dim and poorly-patrolled parks the island had to offer.

Rafe threw the car in park and grabbed his nic from the cup holder. He offered it to her, she declined. As he took a draw, his free hand absentmindedly patted his crotch, adjusting himself to be taken out.

She never would admit this, not to him or a locked diary or God, but she’s looked before. It’s not her fault he gets out of the pool like a slut, with his swim shorts hung low on his hips and clinging to his bulge. She’s had an idea of what he’s working with. But to watch him rub his semi through his jeans? Kiara’s head spun.

He dropped the nic again and unbuttoned his pants without warning. Her eyes widened as he tugged them down, just enough to free his cock from his boxers. She took in what she could make out in the dimness— a heavy shaft, the reddening tip, a little glisten where the pre was leaking out.

Instincts took over— ones she was entirely unaware she had— and she leaned forward to touch him, but he grabbed her wrist first and stopped her. Kie looked up, fearing she’d done something wrong.

Rafe’s eyes softened, resting a hand on her cheek and nodding gently. “Hey, listen. Just relax. You’ll be fine.”

She nodded. It was the last glimpse of mercy she’d get for the night.

Once his warning was over, his big hand slipped from her face around to the back of her skull. He guided (pushed) her down until the head tapped against her lips. The salty taste hit her tongue but she had no time to process or cringe before the rest of his cock slid into her mouth.

It wasn’t long before Kie realized this wasn’t just a blowjob, but more of a face fucking. The agency wasn’t in her hands— or rather, mouth— when he was actively lifting his hips from the seat to stuff more of himself between her lips. She couldn’t even get her bearings enough to suck.

Kiara mustered enough momentum to overpower the headpushing and pulled her mouth off his cock. “You’re, God, being a little rough, don’t you think?” she asked weakly around a cough.

“You bet,” he affirmed, fixing his fist back into her hair and guiding her down again. “Need to prepare you for what you might come across in the future. Wouldn’t—fuck—be doing you any favors by being gentle, would I?”

Sure, whatever twisted logic he wanted to use to get a rough blowjob from a virgin. Rafe’s hips thrusted up again to meet where his hands locked her head in place, and she had to accept his cock down her throat. The zipper of his pants scraped the bridge of her nose and her back ached from the awkward position he’d twisted her into, but she figured complaining would only get her so far. Plus, her mouth was full.

He canted his hips forward so the tip of his cock brushed against her cheek, and his hand reached down her face to feel it from the outside. Rafe massaged the skin there, feeling the ridges of his head through it. The angle was hard for her to maintain, so he went back to pushing down her throat.

She couldn’t swallow with him in her mouth, so drool began to seep out and sullied his pants. Her hands pushed against his thighs and he let up, tugging her off his crotch and watching the string of spit that connected them.

“I’m, fuck, I’m sorry I’m making such a mess,” she apologized through wet coughs. Rafe laughed and said nothing, but he grabbed his cock and smeared her own spit onto her face. Kiara squealed and tried to back away but he wasn’t done with her.

Eventually, he had enough trust to let her do her own work. Her jaw burned from the stretch, but the hand on her head was only resting there as she forwent keeping it all clean.

He came, hard, if the noises he made were any indicator. The sensation of his twitching cock against her tongue was fascinating, but he must not have wanted to give her the chance to spit. With her nose pressed against his pelvis, his cock for perfectly down her throat and spilled his seed there.

Kiara coughed and sputtered when he finally released her and she could breathe again. “Fucking hell, Rafe, what’s the plan for real sex? You gonna bring out a chainsaw?”

“That was real sex.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ll just have to wait and find out then, huh?”

Kiara narrowed her eyes, looking to the small backseat. “What do you mean, wait? You’re not gonna reciprocate or anything? How is that f—?”

“Look, I know you’re new to this and all, so consider this a lesson: I’m gonna need a fuckin’ minute to get the feeling back in my extremities. And since we don’t have all night—”

He tugged her arm towards him and she awkwardly fumbled over to sit on his lap. The door pressed against her back and the steering wheel dug into her leg uncomfortably, but he continued anyways.

Kiara liked loose, linen shorts; Rafe liked them even better. He needn’t even pull them down— they were flowy and accessible enough that he could pull them and her underwear to the side and have her fully exposed for him.

Her face burned. No one had ever seen her like this before, but Rafe was more action-oriented. He cupped a hand over her bare sex, swollen and ready for him after her mouth had been fully used. His dexterous fingers played with her slit and collected the slick there, getting to know her clit and folds in the dark.

He wouldn’t have been able to see, but her eyes opened when he first pressed a finger inside. She was fully aware of how it worked, and Kie had boredly tried to fuck herself in the past, but it was never enough.

Rafe didn’t have that problem. His hands were bigger, fingers stronger, and knew how to stretch her walls around him. She mewled, and he kissed her cheek.

His fingers tucked in further and, with a palm grinding against her clit, pressed against a spot inside her that made her gasp. “Oh my God! What was that?”

He laughed a little in her ear and pulled his fingers out to slap her cunt. She whined. “Our new favorite body part of yours.”

Kiara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Our?”

Rafe took the free hand around her arm and reached over to grab at her breast. “Used to be these.”

Her body sparked and warmed at the idea of Rafe looking at her like a lecher. Deciding parts of her body were for his for ogling, grabbing, fucking. He’s always been an option for her, she just hadn’t known to ask.

The sounds her cunt made around his fingers were vile. He’d lean down to kiss her neck (but only kiss— can’t leave a mark) and she curled into his chest. She’d have more shame about the situation if she had any thoughts at all that weren’t her barreling orgasm.

When she did cum, she had to hold onto his forearm for stability. He purred into her ear about how good she was doing for him, holding her chin in place so he always had a good look at her scrunched eyes and parted lips.

He pulled his hand out from her shorts when she caught her breath, and made her watch the way strings of her cum lingered for too long. Rafe pushed those digits between her lips without warning, and swirled them around her tongue until he was adequately clean. Her legs still tingled when she slumped back into the passenger seat.

“No notes, baby, you did perfectly. Let’s get you home, hmm?”

***

Kiara’s phone automatically set to Do Not Disturb at 11 pm sharp every evening.

She wasn’t even that caught up in perfecting her sleep schedule. There were just too many nights in a row that one of her friends would drunkenly call and wake her up. Never for a good reason, like needing a ride—no, they’ll rip her from sleep to ask if a Wonka chocolate bar is red, or purple like they swore they remembered.

And they wonder why she preferred darties.

So, any messages she may receive in the witching hour would go unnoticed until the next morning. Unless, of course, the person reaching out to her is a bit more persistent.

The window creaked, and she just rolled over in bed. Her home was nearly a century old and the sandy ground below the foundation made for all kinds of bumps in the night.

What it didn’t often do, was lift the pane entirely. Kie sat up, eyes quickly adjusting to the tall body squeezing through into her bedroom.

“Jesus— Rafe?!” she asked, grabbing her chest where her heart fluttered.

“A little help?” he hissed, unable to fit the rest of the way. She sprang to his side, lifting the window a little more and guiding him inside. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to whisper. My parents are in Myrtle Beach for a wedding.”

“Well, fuck me. Would’ve been nice to know before I scaled the damn trellis. Why didn’t you respond?” he asked, pointing to the sleeping phone on her nightstand.

Kiara crossed her arms. “Didn’t get the message. Do I… need to get a first aid kit?” she asked, looking over his figure and trying not to back away like a frightened deer.

He looked down at himself. “I’m fine?”

“I meant for me! You forget the chainsaw?”

His eyebrows tightened until he remembered the night they‘d already shared, and smirked. “Oh! No, it’s not like that.”

She didn’t get to ask what he meant before he kicked off his boots and flopped onto her bed like he owned it. He wagged his fingers, beckoning her to join him, and she obeyed with a scowl. It’s her room, after all.

He pulled her down to his side, turning to face her and sliding a hand between her cheek and pillow. Rafe kissed her softly, thumbing at her skin and trailing the other hand down to her waist where it rested comfortably. Their thighs entangled and one of her fists nervously balled into his shirt.

The pair made out, much longer than she would expect he had patience for. It was delicate, verging on pure, and it sent a fire to her core in anticipation. His leg pushing between her thighs certainly didn’t hurt.

There was no hurry to undress. A shirt here, his pants there. It was like they waited until one of them lost their breath to pause and remove another article. By the time they were down to their underwear, her apprehensions reappeared.

”Slow,” she blurted, and his big blue eyes locked to hers. “We’re gonna go slow, right?” she clarified, feeling the ridges of his abs, now bare and warm under her fingers.

He smiled, kissed the tip of her nose. “M’in no rush.”

Their cores were close, she could feel the heat of his cock pressed against her hip. He pushed against her once and groaned into her mouth, then pulled away entirely and slotted himself above her.

Rafe sat back on his heels, looking at her near-naked body below her. It was hardly more skin than he was used to seeing when she swam at his house, but he hungered over her nonetheless. His fingers slipped under the hem of her panties and his eyes found hers.

“May I?”

She giggled. Perhaps because she didn’t expect that from Rafe, or maybe it was nerves. But she eked out a yes, please regardless.

With permission granted, he slid her underwear down her legs and tossed them aside, settling between her thighs and giving each a kiss.

He started gently— he spread her folds with his thumbs and licked a hard stripe up the center. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling and slammed shut, and he was gracious enough to not give her hell for this. Rafe allowed her in her own world because, well, he was in one of his own.

Had she spared a glance between her thighs, she’d see him lost in himself, nose buried into her cunt and tongue exploring every part of her. It was all slow, curious, an attempt to commit her pussy to his memory. Maybe he feared this was his only chance.

His patience built a powerful orgasm for her— the kind she could never do herself. Touching herself before was just getting a job done, but Rafe wanted it to wash over her with shaking legs and starry vision.

And Rafe always got what he wanted.

When he came up to kiss her, she tasted herself on him, but it was less intense than she expected. Maybe he was drooling too much.

She’d forgotten he still had his boxers on— too lost in cumming on his tongue. The fabric was sticking to him where precum leaked out of his tip, and he paused for only enough time to pull the elastic down under his balls. Deja vu.

Now free, his member hung menacingly between them. He took himself in hand and teased her, gliding the tip against her pulsing clit and threatening to part her folds. He lay the shaft against her and thrusted, simulating the real thing.

On one insignificant stroke, the head slipped down and notched itself against her hole. Rafe was careful, so careful pressing inside. She was wet enough that he could’ve bullied his cock into her cunt easily, but he stopped instead.

Rafe lowered himself until their noses brushed together. One hand reached up to stroke her cheek, to whisk away the tear that had pooled in the corner of her eye. He shushed, his lips brushing against her chin, her ear, her lips, anywhere he could access her skin.

“Sweetheart, please, you’ve gotta relax for me,” he whispered, voice low and warm. “You’re doing so fuckin’ good so far. Just keep letting me in.”

It was a side of the man she’d never seen before. Rafe used to twist the arms of boys who mocked her and Sarah until they screamed for mercy. He wasn’t allowed to play any contact sports in high school with his violent record. More than once, Kiara had to step around shattered glass in their home from when he’d broken tumblers in fits of rage. The blowjob from last week alone—

Tonight, his free hand found hers and threaded their fingers together. He kissed along her neck and sucked at the flesh gently. Endless praises spilled from him as his cock fully nestled inside her pulsing heat. She could feel their bodies entangling further with each breath they shared in the close space.

“Fuck it’s— so deep,” she breathed, back arching to press her bare chest against his. The angle shift forced her clit to grind against his pelvis and a whine escaped her.

“I know, baby,” he reassured and played with her tits as she readjusted. “Takin’ me so well. Can’t believe I get to be the first one to feel you like this, mm?”

She nodded, even though he wasn’t really asking her anything. Rafe’s hand, still entwined with hers, pulled down to make her feel her lower stomach.

“Feel me there?” he continued. “M’so glad you chose me. Let me split this pretty pussy open on my cock. Gonna let me fill it too? Wanna really make sure I do the job correctly?”

“Fuck, please, yes!”

He withdrew his cock entirely, letting it kiss her slick cunt and smear the wetness between them. Rafe sunk back in without warning and her back arched up.

Kiara’s fingers scratched down his back and he mentioned nothing of it. Her eyes closed again. “Rafe, I… I think I’m gonna—”

“Another?” he cut off, unable to conceal his pride. “Such a good baby. Eager to fall apart on my cock. Wanna feel it, please, sweet girl.”

She came again, pussy twitching around him. He followed shortly after and stuffed her full of cum as they milked each other dry. If the sensation of him finishing down her throat was intriguing, this was… addictive.

Rafe was an exceptional gentleman in terms of cleaning up; Kiara lay weak and tender as he gathered a wet cloth to undo the last hour. Well… as much as could be undone.

“Thank you,” she said finally, voice low above the radiator, spoken across his chest she rested on.

“Don’t even mention it,” he laughed softly and pulled her in closer. They already approached slumber. “Though, if you really wanted to thank me, I have a few ideas in mind…”

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[sysig]

Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)

[dustteller]

Reading He Who Drowned the World and honestly Baoxiang has no right to be as bitchy as he is about Ouyang squandering Esen's love or whatever. Baoxiang is genuinely convinced that Esen loathes him. No you dumb bitch, your brother loves you and the reason he's giving you a hard time is because he wants you to be safe and happy and healthy. Yeah, he sucks at expressing it, and his efforts are misguided (bc the toxic masculinity gender rolesis fucking up Esen as much as it's fucking up everyone else), but Esen very much does love Baoxiang deeply. Every time Baoxiang remembers a time when Esen "enjoyed his fear" or whatever, I can only think of these parts of Esen's POV from the first book:

Esen's first instinct is to defend his brother. The only reason he doesn't is bc Baoxiang leaves before he can. And Baoxiang glares at him bc he assumes that Esen agrees with Altan and won't defend him, but no, Esen WANTED to defend him and it's Baoxiang that took away his oportunity to do so.

And a bit later, we have this interaction. Baoxiang assumes (again) that Esen would hate him if he was gay, and immediately goes on the defensive. Meanwhile, Esen literally does not care about this except for how it would affect his brother's reputation. He's just WORRIED. He doesn't care if Baoxiang is gay or whatever, but he's deeply aware that if he IS it would put him in more danger. Because, again, he cares about his brother, and he hates seeing what he assumes is Baoxiang making his own life harder.

And it's heartbreaking bc Baoxiang will probably never realize how much Esen adores him. He's so jealous of Ouyang for having his brother's heart without realizing that Esen sees him as his beloved baby brother and is desperately trying to protect him from a world that he KNOWS is cruel to him. Baoxiang will never know that his greatest supporter and the only person that loved him unconditionally was Esen. And maybe it would be WORSE if he realized how dear he was to Esen, because the realization that all thise things that caused him pain were borne out of a deep, unconditional LOVE and not the disdain he's convinced himself Esen felt for him might break him. Baoxiang has deluded himself into simplifying Esen's feelings for him into those of hate and disdain because its so much harder to accept that the person you love the most has destroyed you out of love. Baoxiang is doing the exact same thing Ouyang does in convincing himself that he's unlovable and relishing in the world's response as a form of self-harm. And Esen, who is genuinely trying (and floundering horribly) is a great tool for Baoxiang to use to tear himself apart.

And, on the other hand, Esen will never realize how much damage his attempts to help Baoxiang caused. He loves him so much, bc that's his baby brother! It's his job to protect him! But Esen has been raised as the golden poster child of a Mongol Warrior Man, a perfect pinacle of masculinity, and is thus doomed to only being able to express his love and acceptance for Baoxiang through a tough love, lets sand down all the edges to remove friction approach. For him, pushing Baoxiang into a box IS an act of love. It's the act of saying I love and accept you, and so I will help you succeed in all the things you're bad at so that everyone will love you too. Except by doing this, he doesn't realize how awful he's being and how he's asking someone that CANT ever fit the mold to break himself in the attempt. He's a perfect Mongol Warrior Man after all, and as such he has never been given the tools to express his affection in a healthy way. He will never truly understand how much he's an asshole, not because he is lacking in love (as Baoxiang assumes) or because he is incapable of sympathizing (as ouyang thinks), but because understanding is not something allowed of him and his role in society. At the end of the day, Esen is as much a slave to his role as all the other characters are, and now he's dead he will never be able to break free of the assumptions people have made of him. He went to his grave having destroyed the people he loved most, and now he will never have the chance to prove their assumptions wrong as be better.

[pickled-flowers]

Having very big thoughts about spirituality and humanity.. alas I am never articulate enough so I'm just gonna rent in the tags as always

[downsteepy]

i am very grateful that im not someone that has to deal with daily seizures but it is evil when it takes like a week and a half's worth of business days to recover from a seizure

[everymadara]

Chapter 622

[buggbuzz]

semi-heavy adhd vent tw 🫢🫢

personally of the opinion that the worst thing about adhd is the subtlety. we joke abt how obvious and silly it is but its barely visible 95% of the time.

& u spend your whole life not knowing if the mental struggle you have doing basic shit is what everyone deals with or if something's wrong. even when you KNOW you have adhd and even have it TREATED you STILL don't know if you're having a normal amount of obstacles.

i've been on meds for two years now and i just spent a whole fucking summer semester not sure if i was having adhd burnout or if my meds weren't working or if i was actually just being lazy. i think its all three, but who knows! and now i have a final tomorrow that i have to pass and i dont know if i can because i could barely fucking do any work all semester.

this happens like every year/semester but this one particularly stings cause it was supposed to be really good this time!! lots of free time, one class to worry about, the best nd-friendly note-taking system i've ever used, lots of flexibility, and friends to spend time with. it was even a science class!! chem, not bio, but better than non-science, right? but apparently, the only way i can ever stay motivated and on the ball is if im chained to a super-stressful and merciless schedule. so i have to choose between my long-term success and my mental health!!

i don't envy neurotypicals for the weird fucking ways they operate sometimes but good lord fucking jesus it sounds nice to be able to do things. i feel like a loaded gun with a busted trigger; i have all these amazing ideas and well-thought-out schedules and all the passion and desperation to follow through, but my brain and body just. won't. do it.

[theghostofashton]

.

[calypsolemon]

Feeling some kind of way about how Steven sings a beautiful, empathetic song about how his mother's upbringing and his own are similar, about how both their guardians loved them but simply don't see them as capable and believing thats the core of the issue, right before experiencing torturous punishments (which his own guardians would have never done to him), alongside some of the most extreme physical and psychological abuse he experiences throughout the series, all done to him under the pretense that the perpetrator believed he was his mother.

[deathsweetblossoms]

Elain, like Elide, Uses Appearance to Make People See What She Wants them to See

I've been playing with this idea for awhile and as soon as I started reading TOG for Elide & Lorcan, it really pulled the whole theory together. Elide is able to borrow the personas of people she knows to get people to do what she wants. Similarly, she knows how to change her appearance (and even Lorcan's) to get people to give her information or do what she needs them to. She knows how to play a role. And Elain? "Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles".

In Feyre’s bonus chapter in ACOSF, Rhys suggests Elain “felt she had to be (sweet and innocent) or else she’d disappoint (everyone).” My personal headcanon is that almost every article of clothing she wears plays exactly into this sentiment. In my theory, she is very similar to Elide, in a way that guarantees a future in espionage. For Elide this was a survival tactic, for Elain she was almost compelled to play into the roles expected of her so as not to disappoint those she cares about. Both motivations for their manipulations play into each woman's journey to self empowerment. It's not seen as "evil" or "bad", it's simply a tool in their arsenal.

The infamous black dress in Hewn City. "Both sisters wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre...they'd planned it that way, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was." "Elain in black was ridiculous....the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face....Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight*, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl." Elain is canonically the most beautiful sister. Knowing that, she and everyone knew the political game required all curious eyes to avoid her and to gravitate towards Nesta. The best way to do this is to dress so far down that none of the members of Hewn City would even look twice at her -- which she achieved. Cassian mentions that "he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled (Elain)", but that she'd squared her shoulders and insisted she was a part of the Night Court anyway. That she would do what needed to be done. Knowing that, I think Cassian played right into how she intentionally dressed herself for this event. When Elain wants to feel beautiful, she braids her hair or adds adornments to her body (*see my next point to further prove this), but she purposefully avoided doing that to the extreme. Cassian played right into what she wanted him to see, in the same way that Lorcan played right into Elide's ploy to come across as a naive girl. (Until she isn't anymore and he starts to see who she truly is).

In ACOWAR, when Feyre returns from the Spring Court and comments: “Her hair was down — not even braided. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen it unbound. She wore a moon-white silk dressing gown.” Elain was obviously in crisis mode here, but it says a lot that Feyre can’t remember seeing Elain’s hair unbound — so even when they were starving, even when she had visited her in ACOTAR and ACOMAF, Elain always puts some effort into her hair. * Furthermore, in ACOFAS when Elain sees Azriel in the potato scene, she immediately excuses herself to remove her apron and "rebraid her hair". Canonically, she returned with her hair rebraided. For Azriel. Because she wanted to look pretty for him. Only when Elain was in basically a deep depression was she unable to care enough about her appearance to leave her hair completely unbound. Keeping this into consideration, it casts the scene in Hewn City in a different, curious light in that she put very minimal effort into making her hair look presentable (unbound and simply pinned back with the pearl clips? The girl didn't want ANYONE to notice her).

In ACOTAR, Feyre says this about Elain: “my sister was beaming, content — prettier than I’d ever seen her, even in her simple muslin gardening dress. Her cheeks were flushed beneath her large, floppy hat.” This quote is what inspired this whole theory. I have always wondered if this was Elain's "natural" state, when she felt most comfortable, when she was happy, when she wasn't putting on a show was when she was wearing her simple, muslin gardening dress. In this scene, she was talking about her passions and showing Feyre the garden she grew with her own efforts. She didn't need to put on a show for queens, or neighbors, etc. She was simply with her sisters.

So, what does this all mean? Personally, I think we will see the inner workings of Elain's penchant for intentional fashion in her upcoming POV and we will finally see what it looks like when she isn't playing into the "sweet and innocent" role. Like Elide, I believe she will continue to use appearances and charm as a tool to protect herself and to assist the IC. I also wouldn't be surprised if it assisted with a particular skill set required for gleaning information from rival courts to bring down the bad guys. A few people have expressed that they wish to see Elain wear THE SLUTTIEST DRESS OF ALL TIME when she revisits the Hewn City, and I fully believe she will. It will play into her journey of self discovery and self empowerment; a way to express herself that is still her but with a little more kick to it.