#cadence reyes

[team-pace]

I am... for totally no reason in particular... thinking about sleepy cuddles....

for real though, thinking about who is cuddly and who isnt is a pretty nice character thought :p

Most to least cuddly. Ava, Eir, Plum, Cadence

Ava absolutely just clings to whoever is near by. Full on with the leggies wrapping around and all... may also complain in her sleep till she can find a person

Eir also very cuddly, but a little more loose about it and depending on the person, gets more or less cuddly based on how they are

Plum likes having some touchy but isn't really one to cling. But will absolutely just put a foot or something on someone if they are too far away

Cadence has grown to accept the touchy, usually doesn't go out of her way to be cuddly bc shes usually just a ball or on her stomach

[randomfoggytiger]

Are there some episodes or scenes that you just can't watch because the acting or scene is just too cringe?

One that I can't watch are the regression therapy scenes. All I can think is that I am embarrassed for the actors and wonder if they felt embarrassed during those scenes.

I also can't watch when Mulder gets too emphatic when he assures that something was DONE to Scully. There are a couple when the delivery is over the top and unnatural. It makes me cringe. I generally have to do the 15 second fast forward to avoid second hand embarrassment. Hey, tho, if I got paid millions of dollars to do that job, I'd suck up the embarrassment everyday and happily cry into my luxury pillow just thinking about how I make more than the average person's annual salary in one week.

I have... quite a bit. XDDD

The regression scenes were not great, but I do wonder what they would have looked like had the context been kept intact (I think the original footage was 8 or 12 minutes long?)

I also haven't watched Fight Club all the way through, and I refuse to do so. There are moments that are nice, and that is all.

OH, Excelsis Dei-- I was so intrigued by that plot, but it fell apart into nonsensical drivel. And Mulder dismissing a possible ghost rape? Also... ghost rape is canon.... (The end of Aubrey is similar: for some reason, I love that episode EXCEPT the ending, which becomes hokey and over-the-top.)

I've never watched a full episode from Season 9; but the clips, meta, reviews, gifs, quotes, transcripts and scripts I have seen and read are bad-- the quality of the writing just... tanked. I can see why many have to brand it as a cop show because the moments between Doggett and Reyes (and sometimes either/or with Scully) are the only ones that (sort of) make sense. The old X-Files flavor-- the long paragraphs, the reports, the purple prose, the synergy-- faded out almost entirely only to rear its head at the most discordant moments.

I Want to Believe: I'm mostly mad because that movie would easily fit my rewatch material if not for the constant mischaracterization and supreme lack of plot foresight. Sigh....

Lastly... I can't stand the Revival-- and this isn't to dog on those that love it. But the cadence, the dialogue, the "logic", the syntax, the expressions... they were all wrong. It just wasn't The X-Files, let alone a maturer glimpse into Mulder and Scully as characters. If I recall, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson both remarked that the writing was still stuck in the 90s-- she because her character was regressed, he because the scripts themselves sounded like they were written for twenty-year-olds. (Gotta find his interview again: DD was trying to be delicate, but the truth is the truth.) There is a moment or two, in isolation, that's alright; but if you take the whole, then those moments (to me) become tainted.

Welp, those are my off-the-top-of-the-head-ers. But I'm sure there's more. If you have anymore you think of, drop in-- it'd be fun to discuss. :)))))))

**Side note**: The luxury pillow. XDDDD I don't know if DD's the best natural weeper, but I've seen guys emote the same way (or get really close-- their faces scrunch up and their eyes/mouths get wobbly and wet) so he's likely channeling a nameless dispirited dude crying out from the ether. I'd love to get millions doing the same, too.

[nerdieforpedro]

12/10/2023 - Weekend Update

Nerdie! Look at you staying on a schedule.

I know! Being half-way organized. It's kinda nice.

We'd never thought we'd see the day. So what's new?

I made some fic posts this week:

Sard'ika Sessions - Session Two (Din Djarin x plus size female reader)

Christmas List (Robbie Reyes x reader)

The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore (Volume 3)

A New Tradition with Frankie (Frankie Morales x GN reader)

We also spread positivity though everyone's ask boxes and exchanged lovely messages with each other and loved on each other.

Read anything this week?

I did. A large portion of it is in my Fanfic appreciation post volume 3 which the link is above. I also started a volume 4 because I love highlighting different author's works that I've enjoyed. 😀

I'm just going to pick my top three for the week:

Don't Drink the Punch by @wildemaven (Soft Dave and female reader. I'm a fan of soft Dave. He can be soft and sweet. He and the reader are married and they're at a work event. It's lovely.)

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj (Ezra and female reader. Turns out this is her first fic. I was flabbergasted. The Imagery, word flow and cadence are all from someone who's pen name is one word, like Cher or Homer or Ms. PayDay.)

Insatiable by @pedge-page (Frankie Morales and female reader. Part three of their three part emotional sexual odyssey with Frankie and the female reader. There's big feelings and lots of smut abound. But there is a sweet end to it.)

What happened outside of fanfics this week?

I was sick most of the week. I ended up in the ED at work and was out for the week. Thankfully I'm on the mend and should be ready this upcoming week for work and beyond! I caught up on different FBI shows, watched Loki with my mom (she wonders if he's going to be at a convention - I'm hoping not so she won't bum rush the man,) and bought a book on flowers. I've also been starting back up on learning Spanish again.

What's coming up this week?

I'm working on another Robbie Reyes fic - likely to be a one shot but dark because the Rider is dark. Gabriel Luna had a birthday this past week, @musings-of-a-rose sent me all the pictures so this is where we are in life right now. All Luna’ed down and what not.

I'm gonna try for some more fluff, maybe with Dieter, Frankie or Benny. Not sure who. We'll see.

I could, possibly, be working on one of my other series that I started and dropped like a hot potato. Maybe they'll have new chapters. People were reading them, which was the weirdest thing.

Session Three of Sard'ika Sessions will be up on Wednesday. The Way is paved with Space Smut according to the Maker. 🫡 We'll be at the mid-point so we're in for a shift, but no worries. Session four, five and six took up a lot of pages in my notebook and it was all outlined with a lot of things. Maybe some more improper beskar use? Might need to touch base with The Armorer on that. 👀 Didn't know that was included in the ancient ways either.

Nerdie, don't be messing with The Creed like that.

To be fair, I did mention in Session one that there would be liberties taken with both The Creed and The Way so the latter sessions are where more of those liberties are taken. Maybe a lot, maybe a little. You'll have to read and see. Different Mandalorians see The Creed differently, why can’t I?

I am curious about what liberties my Space Sister @linzels-blog would make with The Creed. 🤔

Wait, why is it weird that people were reading your other series?

Since I haven't updated them for months, I didn't expect them to get any comments, then they did. It was very sweet and got me thinking, maybe I should finish that at some point, or at least add to it. I'm trying to focus on one at a time. Can't be crossing streams.

We get it, but that joke though? Could have done without that. Any last thoughts?

I need to work more on the pickled Peña project. Haven't finished that yet. Stay safe and hydrated. There are nasty bugs that are wreaking havoc on people's noses and sinuses. We’re very happy that @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @for-a-longlongtime have lived to tell their stories.

Also check your knives and watch your tips. I guess you can palm the tips or take them and do whatever as long as you're safe about it.

Nerdie, what are you talking about...? Do we want to know?

If you know, you know and if you don't, find some hot tips. 😘

Stay safe and don't get any in your eye,

Love Nerdie 💜

(escapes to a certain moodboard 🍆)

Nerdie! You can't just say that and leave! 😠

[alrightbuckaroo]

Happy Sunday, everyone! Thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet, @sznofthesticks, @theghostofashton, @carlos-in-glasses, @three-drink-amy, @bonheur-cafe, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @freneticfloetry for the tags! At risk of sharing everything from the Carlos character study and the Time Loop AU, here's way more than seven sentence of something that was born out a conversation with @strandnreyes many moons ago.

“I’m just nervous,” Carlos mutters out, his voice void of any type of certainty. TK’s eyes glance over at Carlos’ hands and notices just how clenched his fingers are wrapped around the steering wheel. His cold heart thaws, just slightly. He reaches out and delicately, turns Carlos’ face towards him.

“You don’t need to be,” TK says softly, warmly. He smiles and Carlos, for some reason, believes him. “How about, you and I go some place private,” TK places his hand around Carlos’ thigh, squeezing it to let him know his full and undivided attention is on the man in front of him. “and I help you calm your nerves.”

Carlos can feel the spools of desire begin to unravel within him. All he can do in response is nod and begin driving towards Sunrise Chalet Inn.

“What should I call you, sweetheart?” TK leans back in the passenger seat, reaching into his breast pocket for his carton of cigarettes and his lighter.

Carlos responds with the answer he’s given every person in Hollywood since he first touched ground. “Carl,” Carlos says. “Carl Reynolds.”

“Oh wow, you are new to this,” TK answers, his voice full of mirth. “One, never give your full name. Two,” TK chuckles before saying. “Carl Reynolds?”

“You don’t believe me?” Carlos asks, falling into a cadence that he didn't even know there was there to be unearthed.

“You don’t even sound like you believe you,” TK replies, smiling around the cigarette in his mouth.

open tag + no pressure tags under the cut :)

@reyesstrand, @lightningboltreader, @carlos-tk, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @sanjuwrites, @never-blooms, @ambiguouspenny, @louis-ii-reyes-strand, @jesuisici33, @orchidscript, @your-catfish-friend, @redshirt2, and @herefortarlos :)

[paperstorm]

Lone star question: when do you think Tarlos had their first love you’s? Like in 2x04 before TK storms out he says “who you supposedly love” so I guess it was before that?? But then I’m 2x12 during the fire Carlos is freaking out and can’t get the “I love you” out but TK says it. So I guess before 2x04??? But I’ve always wondered but other ppl thought

It is definitely implied that they said it between seasons 1 and 2, because TK (with all his traumas) would definitely have not said "who you supposedly love" to someone who hadn't said that they loved him. I wrote my personal headcanon, which is that they said it outside the honky tonk a few months into dating:

-

“I first kissed you right …” Carlos takes TK by the shoulders and moves him, shuffling him to one side and then the other as his tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth and his forehead twists into a frown like it’s important to find the exact spot, “… here.”   TK looks up at the streetlamp he remembers, and from side to side, checking it out. He nods. “Yep, I think you got it.”   Carlos smiles at him. He takes TK’s face into his hands and kisses him. It’s so much different, this time, from that night. TK knows the way Carlos’s lips will move against his, can anticipate the flavor of him and the way it will make his stomach flip when Carlos flirts with his tongue along the seam of TK’s lips. He also knows how at home he’ll feel when Carlos’s lips fall away but their foreheads stay pressed together.   “I was so nervous to ask you to dance,” Carlos tells him.   “I know.”   Carlos’s hands slide down, over his neck, down his chest, to settle on his hips. TK always feels so small under Carlos’s hands. Small, but not insignificant. “I was so into you from the moment I saw you.”   TK smiles and strokes his thumb along Carlos’s jaw. He hasn’t shaved today, so it’s rough with sandpaper stubble that catches against his skin.   “Beautiful eyes,” Carlos continues, in a dreamy voice, and then it shifts to the cadence of a tease as he adds, “bratty little smile that made me want to put you on your knees.”   TK chuckles and slides his arms around Carlos’s neck, forearms fitting between Carlos and the brick wall behind him. “Oh you did, huh?”   “Mhm.”   “And what d’you think, now that you’ve had me on my knees? Were you right?”   “So right. You’re so good to me. For me.”   “Hey, I, um. I love you,” TK blurts out.   Carlos is still for a moment, and TK’s heart races as he listens to him exhale.   “Maybe this isn’t the best place to tell you that,” he begins, nervously, but Carlos interrupts.   “It’s the perfect place to tell me that. You just beat me to it.”   “What?” TK laughs.   “What do you think we’re doin’ out here?” Carlos asks, a smile apparent in the lilt of his voice as his hands squeeze TK’s hips. “I brought you here to say that to you, asshole.”   TK laughs again, louder this time. “Too slow, Reyes.”   “Apparently.” Carlos laughs too. He kisses TK’s cheek, and into his skin he murmurs, “I love you. I’m so in love with you.”   TK hears himself make a small, pitiful noise as emotion unexpectedly chokes him for a moment, and Carlos drags his nose slowly along TK’s temple.   “What’s wrong?” he whispers.   “Nothing.”   “Please tell me?”   Swallowing first, TK admits, “Alex never said in. In love. Nobody’s … ever said that. And that’s different, isn’t it? I love my parents, I love my job, I love iced coffee. But …”   “It is different. You’re right. And I am in love with you,” Carlos repeats, understanding it’s important that TK hears it said that way. “So completely, disastrously in love with you, TK Strand.”

x

[trevlad-sounds]

Invisible Waves 008

25-02-2024

Welcome all you idle activists and active idlers to Invisible Waves. Get yourself into a recumbent state of mind… or go for a walk. Trevor here, Jjoin me and the legions of sound seekers on this new, yet ancient, ongoing quest to connect us all through musical adventures. Slightly de tune your mental oscillators. Pull back on your inner chorus. contain yourself and add mindful sustain. Get outraged or inspired, get dirty, get cleaned up. Allow me to massage your aural orifices for a couple of hours. This is INVISIBLE WAVES!!!

Intro 00:00

Frankie Reyes-La Puerta 01:29

Roedelius-Halmharfe 02:25

Ellarald-Riversong 06:06

Chapter 1 10:20

Maps and Diagrams-Temples of Cadence 15:48

Wave Temples, Justice A. Gonzalez-Key of Life 18:49

Pete Bassman-Let's Do It 20:36

Moon Mullins-Drops 25:19

Helado Negro-Sound and Vision 26:35

Mary Yalex-Stellar State One 29:42

Chapter 2 34:05

Uncle Fido-They Are Dreaming 37:26

Kösmonaut-Gelbe Maschine 41:32

Bravo Tounky-Mariroannais 47:59

Helios-Fainted Fog 53:58

Anton Witter-Humdrum 58:47

LFO-Shove Piggy Shove 1:03:10

Chapter 3 1:07:27

Blak Saagan-La Trattativa - La Speranza 1:14:24

Claude Lavender-Straight Down The Middle 1:20:53

GLOK-Pulsing 1:23:51

Louis cole-Don’t Care (feat. Genevieve Artadi) 1:32:31

VSILE-The Camping Song - AN-2 Remix 1:37:43

The British Stereo Collective-Ghosts 1:40:40

Chapter 4 1:42:22

Albin-Eftertext 1:47:10

Charles Uzzell Edwards-Project Pocono 1:50:52

Almanacs-The Dance of the Woodpeckers 1:54:03

Polypores-Until You Observe It, It Isn’t There 1:59:11

International Telecom-Ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｉｔｙ 2:03:35

Fumerolles-Ptero 2:06:01

Chapter 5 2:09:22

There Is Another System-Tout Comme S'Endormir 2:14:02

[vacantgodling]

🌹x 21 GOTCHA

FOILED!! I HAVE BEEN FOILED!!!

tbh have this whole section of the current cage chapter. i'm not really sure if i want to keep it in like this or not; like some elements i want to keep, but i may need to reword it. but have it in its first draft kind of stage LMAO (and i checked, its 21 lines PFFFF-i may have added 2 but shh didn't hear that from me)

Cassidy returned to his room to look the folder over in greater detail—but also to have a good think that wasn’t distracted by all the comings and goings on the Watchpoint. His hat he’d tossed over the lone, beat up chair by the window and his shoes were kicked off and in disarray by the threshold. Heaving a large sigh, Cassidy eased himself back onto the mattress. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’d been serving him well enough and was honestly better than kicking it back on the floor. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, no matter what Hanzo said.  Instead of a quick skim, this time he took his time looking through the documents crammed in the manila folder. The passport was one of those fancier, newer ones that didn’t require a photo (how it was more secure, he’d stopped bothering to ask) and it was addressed for one Chandler Powers, who was uh. Him, apparently. Mr. Powers had a horrible ring to it, and Cassidy wrinkled his nose. But still, he could admit, it wasn’t as bad as some of the names Reyes came up with for these types of ops. Reyes always went too dramatic when really, Cassidy needed to be inconspicuous—and he never bought that shit about blending in by extravagance.  Nevertheless, it appeared that Mr. Chandler Powers was a negotiator for some unheard of business conglomerate based out of St. Louis, Missouri. Missouri, huh? Cassidy said the name Chandler Powers a few times, trying to match the cadence of a more Eastern American southern accent. It wasn’t great work, but the people he would be around more than likely wouldn’t be able to catch the subtleties he was missing. He was traveling with an assigned interpreter from the company, Kenta Abe. Cassidy wrinkled his nose, who picked these names? He would have to be careful about saying A-be instead of Abe as in Abe Lincoln that his brain kept trying to supply. There was no specified personality traits, which was the telltale sign that this briefing was run on short time. That didn’t necessarily reassure him when it came to something as… delicate as this. But, Cassidy tried to stay positive. Had to, or else both of them were fucked.

[heartstringsduet]

WIP tag game

thanks for tagging me @alrightbuckaroo

Rules: Share a random line of text from your current WIP or a part of dialogue from one of your characters. Do not give any explanation or context, and see what your followers think.

His voice is the last thing Carlos can wrestle into pretense, but time has taught TK to read through the subtle nuances in cadence to find the shy layer of vulnerability it masks.

play along: @strandnreyes , @carlos-in-glasses , @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @wtfuckevenknows @louis-ii-reyes-strand @lightningboltreader @paperstorm and whoever wants to <3

[colibritas]

syzygy

pairing: bobby marks x f!detective (camilla reyes) (past) (listen. i know.)

word count: 1,738 words | rating: T, brief mentions of alcohol ig?

summary: The detective goes on a walk and stumbles upon a memory. (post book 3 Bobby route - vague spoilers ahead!)

author’s note: i have no words and no excuses but i think it would be neat if they get some closure B) i literally can’t believe my first fic for this fandom heavily focuses on bobby marks, don’t look at me

read on ao3!

There’s a weathered old wooden bench near the cliffs at the lighthouse, where the stars shine brightly on clear nights, and the breeze coasting in from the ocean is cold but smells like salt and memory.

Camilla doesn’t pass it often, these days. The nostalgic ache it stirs in her tastes like cheap rum and cheap promises, makes her feel a little too hollow.

She’s not totally sure what brings her there tonight. She knows she shouldn’t be wandering the shaded paths of Wayhaven alone at night, with her blood calling like a siren song to every Trapper and toothed creature in a hundred miles.

But there’s always been an itch in her soul, compels her to wander to ease the stirring. Walking a beat used to help, particularly at night when she had Tina’s laughter to keep her company.

Now, the shadows are no longer friends to shelter her, but the promise of some new horror to steal her away. There is no laughter to keep her company, just the whisper of the wind and the way her skin prickles at the groaning of the trees.

The waves lapping along the shore still her mind with a static fuzz, and the night is quiet and velvet. It’s late summer, the perfect time for a near-midnight walk, and the dying embers of the season are pleasant to warm herself to even though clouds cover the blanket of stars. A soft summer storm had swept through earlier that day, and the air is fresh and verdant with the ghost of it, grass and earth damp beneath her shoes. As she approaches the bend where the bench looks out over the waterline she slows, seeing a worried figure seated there, hunched over.

The smart thing would be to turn and walk away before they notice her, and she nearly does before she catches a glimpse of caramel-coloured hair dripping with silver in the faint moonlight. It would still be the smart thing to turn and walk away; now more than ever, maybe.

“Bobby?”

He spins to face her, coiled like a spring as he leaps to his feet. Tense, anticipatory. She raises both hands like a white flag. “Just me. Didn’t want to sneak up on you. Is that pepper spray in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

Camilla nods at where his hand hovers not too far from his belt.

He settles back into a more Bobby-like cadence and forcibly relaxes. “I’m always happy to see you, angel,” he drawls. It’s not very convincing. Even through the dim light she can see the shimmer of tension in his fingers. “You just caught me by surprise, is all.”

Slowly, she steps toward him, still keeping her hands raised at first, but lowering them as he eases his own arms down at his sides, looking a little less like he’s going to snap and blast pepper spray in her eyes. His gaze is unfocused in a way she’s not used to, no longer liquid and confident. She approaches like she might a wounded animal before settling down on one edge of the bench. He sits at the other, and a thick, heavy quiet settles on its haunches between them.

And, eventually, once the blanketing silence grows too oppressive in the warm night:

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here since we broke up,” he says, voice a little too loud, a little too strained against the darkness.

“Because I haven’t been,” Camilla mumbles. “Figured you’d probably not want me skulking around if you decided to bring a new partner here.”

He goes a bit quiet, at that. “C’mon, Camilla,” he mutters. “This was our spot.”

The tide rolls in. It smells like summer. Reminds her of warm, sloppy kisses at the tail end of summer break, the wooden slats of this weathered old bench uncomfortable under the heels of her palms, and the first time he said he loved her. She’d believed him, then.

The ache gnaws at her.

“You still come out here often?” She asks, instead of saying the thing she really wants to say. She’s not sure if she wants the answer to this question, either, now that she thinks about it, but it’s already out of her mouth and she can’t take it back. Maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll deflect it with some sort of flirtation or angle, anyway, like he always does.

“Yeah. When I need to think,” he says instead, the moonlight softening him, fuzzing his edges.

She bites back the short reply at the tip of her tongue. He doesn’t deserve her scorn, not when he says something genuine for once. Something in her, the ungenerous part that’s still a little raw, reminds her that he’s often used his own vulnerability as the scalpel to cut her open in the past. It’s long past the time when she should have stopped falling for it, but she still does every time. Hook, line, sinker.

“What were you thinking about?”

“How fucked up it’s all gotten,” he says with a strained laugh. “I mean, Jesus. You ever see all of this coming?”

“Shit, Bobby. If I saw half of this coming I’d’ve bought several lottery tickets by now. I’d be relaxing on a beach somewhere, with a margarita in each hand and not a care in the world.”

“I hope one of the margaritas would be for me?”

“Not a chance, get your own damn margaritas.”

They both chuckle a little, soft and quiet. It’s easy, until it hurts. Their laughter trails off into silence.

The waves against the beach. Kisses that tasted like cheap rum and empty promises. The ache gnaws her hollow, licks the meat off her bones.

She tucks her knees up to her chest and leans back. The wooden planks dig into her spine, but it feels real and not like the haze of memory.

“If I asked you something right now, would you tell me the truth?” She whispers into the breeze. Almost hoping the wind will catch her voice and toss it high above their heads where no-one will hear it.

Bobby hesitates. “At this point, angel, I don’t think you’d believe me if I lied.”

“Did you love me?”

“Camilla,” he says, sounding strangled. He forces a laugh. “I don’t think anyone could’ve grown up with you and not fallen in love with you.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. The truth from him hurts more than the lies, sometimes.

And, quieter, he says: “Of course I love you. —Loved.”

“Then why—”

“I don’t know,” he lies.

They quiet, that silence sitting hunched between them still.

He bridges it first. Stretches a hand across the ten inches of eternity between them; she sees the movement from the corner of her eye. He’d never been one for romantic gestures, when they were together. It was all— pageantry, ego-stroking. And she (fatherless, motherless) had devoured every morsel of attention like oxygen to a flame even if she knew deep down it didn’t mean to him what it did to her.

Hook, line, sinker. She closes the space, brushes her knuckles against his, and he interlaces their fingers. The summer air is warm, but his hand is cold. There’s a tremble to the pulse she can feel thrumming in his wrist, like a hummingbird heart.

“It’s too late for us, isn’t it?” He mumbles.

Camilla gives his hand a squeeze. Years ago, she might have felt a spark of hope at their interlocked fingers, the way his hand warms at her touch.

“I think that ship has sailed.” She turns to give him a small smile. There’s no spark of hope there anymore, just a used-to-be. A sigh runs ragged over his lips. He looks… tired, actually. A little worn. Not quite as coiffed and shining as he usually is, though he still strikes a handsome silhouette with the faded moonlight casting him in soft, luminescent edges.

“Yeah, I thought so.” He hesitates. “Are you… happy?”

Camilla thinks of warm brown eyes, honey-sweet, filling her mouth with poetry.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Even with the world going crazy and knowing there are monsters out there that want to kill you? With the danger?”

“The world was already crazy, and I was already in danger. Have you seen my car?”

He grimaces. “I try not to. You can hear it before you see it, anyway, so you can just scrunch your eyes closed and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She can’t help the grin that spreads across her face. “Some part of me honestly still feels like… like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and none of it will be real. But yeah. I’m happy. I don’t have to do it alone, you know?”

When he falls silent, she nudges herself across the gap, until their knees touch, their shoulders bump together. “And you don’t, either.”

He sighs, releases her hand so he can stretch an arm around her shoulder. It’s a move he’s made before, sitting here on this bench, but it doesn’t feel the same. None of the fire, like whiskey burning a trail down your throat. None of the heavy-lidded gazes. She’s surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt. It almost feels… comfortable, this time. She’ll always love him, too, a part of her recognizes—but not the way she used to.

“I don’t, huh? You think you can get me the number of any of those sexy agents, then?”

“Ugh, you suck.” Camilla swats at his knee playfully, no real bite to her words. He laughs in response.

His arm pulls a little closer around her shoulders, and he points up at the sky. “Hey, look.”

The clouds have parted, and above them the sky glitters like a gown studded with so many diamonds. When she hastens a careful glance up at him, he’s smiling. A small smile, relaxed, not the usual suggestive smirk she’s grown used to. She feels her face light with a smile, too, and it feels a bit like forgiveness.

The stars shine down on them and the waves crash, but the air tastes like rain and summer, like damp grass and fragrant earth. It’s not the same as it was because they’re not the same as they were, and it’s… good. At least in this moment, the ache she’d grown used to feels like the dull twinge of a broken bone healing.

[lenora-reyes]

Lenora Reyes's Not-So-Secret Diary

March 13, 632 K.C.

Dear Diary,

There is a great deal I'd like to share with you since my visit to Darkshire. First and foremost, the rumors surrounding the reappearance of House Sunshield was true. My venture to the darkened wood was not in vain, and in this darkness - I found light once again. It started in the form of Sir Adamar Meadowcroft as he caught sight of me by the fountain. Of all the people that would bump into me first, I might have secretly hoped he was last. And not because I do not respect him or hold utmost admiration to his stature as a Knight, but more so due to my disappointment in myself for abandoning him when he might have needed me most.

Regardless, I have found peace with myself since then in the short time among Lady Sunshield and the other Knights. It was a testament to my character and my inner strength to find courage in life that had fallen to my own self-doubt and darkness. The opportunity to reinvent and bring honor back to my life has been something of a blessing granted by Lady Sunshield. She has ensured me that my return was one that was forgiven and welcomed yet again.

So... Let me introduce you to, Sir Jonathan Folcard - he is the most collected of the knights and caters the embodiment of knighthood in word, deed, and through example. It is evident that he is the heart of the knights, if not the face. There is no doubt in my mind that Father would have spared no hesitancy in offering accolades of praise to Sir Folcard and saying something along the lines of... 'we need more men like you.'

Then there is Dame Eleysia Stormcrow, a Kal'dorei knight with ageless wisdom, ingenuity, and experience in the cursed land of Duskwood. My interactions with her have been brief, but she is an educator by the sounds of it. Perhaps that comes with being a guardian to a child, but... it's hard to say. My Mother would have certainly exchanged words with her about faith and the like. A conversation that I would likely lack the cadence of enjoyment for.

Sir Melek Dy'neer is another knight whose art comes in the way of secrecy, observation, and adaptation. While conversations with him were often unexpected and not arranged, his involvement in my own endeavors are most welcomed. Especially prior to my spar with Sir Adamar Meadowcroft. I would worry for anyone that should cross him or betray his trust, as his tactics are designed for accuracy and efficiency with lethal outcomes.

And of course, here I am returning back to my former Mentor. According to Adamar, my punishment for my breaking of oath was to tend to his son of 3 years. I have yet to meet this child of his, but it saddens me to know he is without his spouse. I don't imagine I will make his child any happier without his true mother present. But for both of their sake's, I'll see what it is I can actually do. And that spar I was mentioning earlier? Well... Adamar is quite formidable in the way of the shield and defense. Not to say his offensive abilities are anything to write off either... Especially given his connection with the light, I wonder how it came to be. He seemed especially taken aback that I kept good care of his former armor, which felt like the only thing I was capable of when I retreated from my duty. Oh, right... I'm deviating from the point... now back to the spar.

Let me just state the obvious. I am RUSTY. Despite my efforts to keep training by my sword. Considerable preparation was necessary after Branson provided me with new armor. Diary, make note, Branson is an eccentric dwarf with a penchant for bloodshed. I think he would sooner goad someone into a fight than service armor if he could choose to.

The chainmail is lighter than my former protection and it compromised my ability to adapt to footwork and apply strength aptly. Yet, Foe Reaper's in Westfall make for great adversaries on short notice. Nor do the farmers mind when it's one of their devices that are haywire that need cut down for service and re-acquisition.

Having had that experience before I engaged in combat with Adamar on a sleepless night was... exhausting. And there is more I must do to earn my honor and hold true to my oath. But no preparation at all would have likely told volumes in that spar. And instead, I found myself doing a fine dance with Adamar. Ugh... that's right... I will have to talk about dances later.

The exchange of our mock blades were not often, but they happened more than I fell prey to them. Needless to say however, when it comes to shields, I am sorely lacking in strategy and will need to invest further on penetrating such defenses when the need arises. Had it not been for my Lady's intervention to encourage me to carry her will, I might have seen myself out of the spar sooner. Yet, I can't help but wonder if there is still some anger harbored deep in Adamar after that use of spit. Or perhaps his effort to make it even was enough to satiate his former dismay in the way of a 'Wet Willy'. I shudder to know what prompted such a retaliation... Perhaps the evil in the world is not limited to demonstrations of crime, but harmless pranks as well.

But it would seem that I must return the favor of sorts to Adamar upon making my way to Southwatch. According to Lady Sunshield, I am within my right to act with retribution and sour the greaves he treads with. So, I am to make use of mud and... soil that which is a knight's responsibility to keep polished and presentable when representing the House they serve. There is no missing the image of my father rolling in his grave that I am going to enact this sin. But at the very least, it shall be all done afterwards. Or I should hope...

The arrival to the Keep will not be long now in Southwatch. Days have been spent attributing to my belongings and arrangements. Sheryl Fahnestock, a local farmer of Westfall has lent me Dopey, her trusted donkey for several days given that my horse was not available. I have been informed that my horse was borrowed when I was in town and I've yet to see it now.

And did I mention the fellow by the name of Finn Skylark? I'm not going to lie, my initial impression of him was... jaded. Perhaps it was due to the locals of Darkshire or my lack of interactions with him. He always seemed... unamused, disappointed, or... bothered by certain actions. When I gave my knee to Lady Sunshield, I think he questioned why I was so formal. Yet, after several conversations now - I think he is just a bit rough around the edges at first. It takes some continued conversation to get him to acknowledge you have a brain in your skull. I may not be the most gifted magic bearer or scholar, but I can tell when I'm feeling judged. And... recently we have come to a common ground for discussion regarding books and improving one's self. I'm looking forward to reading the books he lent me. In fact... Diary, he wrote one of the books! So this will make for passing the time before bed more enjoyable.

Diary, I know that this is a big passage this time around, and there is so much more I wish to discuss. Yet my hand aches from the handling of my belongings prior to this move. To sum up my next thoughts, there are the Necrolords in Duskwood, the emergence of Nyrsylth and Freya, Grandma Mabel, the Kirin'tor Investigator, Mr. Greer, Ichibod, and more! OH AND THE DANCE! I fret greatly on this dance as such a talent was more of my mother's thing than my own. Father told me I was better off fighting than dancing. Now that I have to do both, I wonder what will come from it.

Soon I will have my own room in Southwatch and the deed with Adamar's boots will commence. Light, if I could commune with you, I would ask that if Adamar gets angry again to please guide him away from exposing the truth of my actions. Until next time, Diary.

@theborderlandcoalition @agilneanrose @valorandvictory @adamarmeadowcroft

[team-pace]

small little doodle I did for the end credits of my project I think I'm done with it for the class project, but I'm gonna do more for uploading purposes so it'll probably be a smaller summer project :p

[thewritepartner]

Ships.

1x1s.

Veronica Noble & Hayden Darmody Maria Reyes & Josef Volkov Jane Song & Nova Volkova Princess Aurora & Martin Saunders Naomi Connelly & Charlie Walker Elise Drew & Clyde “Rory” Donovan / Daviau Virgil Dawes & Delphine Rosen Elena * & Felix Daviau Maxima Falcone & Amya Daviau Cleopatra Rios & Claudia Daviau Rosemary Daviau & Sidney Ahmed Aurelie Grimaldi & Villanelle Rousseau Alicia Bradley & Tommy Donovan Murphy Bowe & Sara Avraham [RETIRED] Lydia Asensio & Beth Heydari Adele Lim & Alexander Roscoe Aristides Karatasos & Amada Rosewell Eve Champion & Atlas R.ose Elijah Hadley & Jeremy Rider Elijah Hadley & Claudia Daviau (brotp) Clark Joseph “Joey” Hale & Beatrice Bowe Iris McCool & Adrian Valentine Romana Ventlukova & Francisco “Paco” Juarez Winter Ohlin & Harvey Hargrove Clover Klein Reeves & Jason Reeves Heaven Jacobs & Ricardo “Rico” Valdez Destiny Nash & Jayden Vanderbilt Aksel Markov & Zhenya Azminova Hunt Clayton “Huck" Sutter & Esme Dupont Marguerite “Mags” Couture Daviau & Ford Daviau Hector James “Jimmy” Fields & Echo Daviau Vivien Stone & Noah Roscoe Diana Keats Hart & John Hart Emma Silva & Cora Reeves Jesse Forbes & Yvette Mitchell Keeley MacTiernan & Evie Faraday Willa Nolan & Elektra Rush Lucy Pace & M.alcolm B.right Isobel Fraser & Richard Wayne/Blaine Hannah Roth & Rachel Temperance Piper Bloom & Louis Carter & Gale Demir Zoe McCrae & Violet Darling Charles “Charlie” Foster & Defne "Goldie" Adanir Chase Albertine & Reginald “Reggie” Hale Scott Bowen & Audrey Knox Martina Rocha & unknown (edited) Natalia “Tallie” Christiaens & Prince Nicolas Amari Kelsey Alice * & Patrick Thompson Kim Mi-rae & Max Sheffield Elvis Vega & Regina Jones Hunter * & Michael Valentine Zara Cavalcante & Andre Almeida Delta Kourakis & Lorenzo Fox Miles Takamoto Shields & Lunanera Rosano TBA (Gael Garcia Bernal fc) Tiffany Weiss & Gabriel Pelaxtla Jewel Weiss & Jared Arjona Michael * & Marta Rostro Byron Drew & James Drew Paloma (M.elissa B.arrera fc) & Zed Medini Devi Decker & Arman Demir Julia Baer & M.att M.urdock Ethan & Suna “Sunny” Bereket Jenaye & (C.hristian S.erratos FC) Arlo Smith & Baylee Blackwelder Enrique “Ricky” Narvaez & Avery Hebert Carmen Tomás & Giovanni “Gio” Murray Sade Bello & Maila Rule Danny & Honor Lancaster Juan & Carolina Burke Leticia “Tish” Reis & Mateo Landry Harris Lorraine Santos & Amber Halliday Nicholas Hirsch & Sloane Barry Hirsch Andrea Love & Zeppelin “Zep” Paige Derek Knox & Lily Hammersmith-Vane Sabrina Daenzer & Cash Dennison Adam Kimble & Celeste Morrison Aspen Smith & Cecilia “Cece” Morrison Diya Sharma & Niamh Curran Johnny St. James & Alma Dorset Zahid & Olivia Chevalier (Eve Hewson fc) Jason "Jay" Reyes & Charlotte Kamura Ford Daviau 2.0 & Grace Sterling

HOTEL CALIFORNIA MUMU: Benny Clemmins (1920s) & Celia Sedgewick (1815) Reyna Stokes (1990s) & Betty Miller (1967) Shane Shipka & TBA (Grace van Dien fc)

HEAVEN SPRINGS MUMU Star & Preston Knox Constantine & Robin Khang Cadence & Dougie Fray Owen & Luanne "Lulu" Castillo Raine & Circe the Siren Dawn & Carter Jacobs Moon Romero & Jinx Vanderbilt Rowan Lefebvre & Laurel Hemingway Rebel Vanderbilt & Javier The Vampire

SWEET SPOT MUMU Deacon & Savannah Newman Paris Kent & Josh Harris Tatiana Marie Cutler-Grace & Ethan James Camille “Cam” & Dylan Ramos (Rami Malek fc) & Nour Nazari

[donovankinard]

hello, darlings✮ fic requests are closed right now - but will be open again after christmas. dividers by @saradika-graphics.

spotify || ao3

✮ you can call me nova. ask about other nicknames, but nine times in ten i'll adore you forever if you nickname me.

basic info ✮ he/they, trans, pan/bi umbrella, ambiverted infp-t, type six, sagittarius, australian, dog person, romance reader, writing is everything to me, winter>>, glasses wearer, headphones on twenty-four/seven, cd collector, spotify premium user, aspiring author, regular oversharer, real-person-shipper and rpf writer, ginger cat, ao3 addict, anti-monarchist, socialist, lacrosse player, pwhl enthusiast, seattle seahawks supporter, theatre nerd, night owl, moderator of the be my valentine challenge, high schooler, green is the best colour talk to the hand, i like weird science podcasts and procedural dramas, tote bag owner (to a mildly concerning degree), i'm an eyeliner kind of guy, i don't keep my mouth shut for anybody. free palestine!!

music ✮ one direction, conan gray, olivia rodrigo, twenty one pilots, maddie zahm, caity baser, dylan gossett, sabrina carpenter, alexander black, megan moroney, xana, kelsea ballerini, noah kahan, ed sheeran, billie eilish, five seconds of summer, cavetown, maisie peters, finneas, taylor swift, queen, hozier, girl in red, luke combs, phoebe bridgers, gracie abrams, miley cyrus, dean lewis, sixpence none the richer, morgan wallen, birdy, renée rapp, the beatles, abba, robbie williams, ashe, blackbear, dyl dion, chappell roan, luke combs

books ✮ little women, red white and royal blue, osemanverse, jane doe and the cradle of all worlds, nevermoor, boyfriend material and husband material, afterlove, the meaning of birds, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, i kissed shara wheeler, the fault in our stars, they both die at the end, song of achilles, girl in pieces, you'd be home now, a semi-definitive list of worst nightmares

musicals ✮ come from away, hamilton, in the heights, high school musical, hsmtmts, dear evan hansen, tick tick boom, wicked, disney musicals<3, the greatest showman, the addams family musical, matilda, tina: the tina turner musical, mary poppins + returns, six, miss saigon, rocky horror, west side story, funny girl, chicago, moulin rouge, grease.

movies & tv ✮ little women (2019), barbie (2023), dunkirk, don't worry darling, my policeman, julie and the phantoms, rwrb, heartstopper, 9-1-1 (and lone star), doctor who, clouds, love simon and love victor, station 19, greys anatomy, b99. resisting roots

my characters ✮ amy march, nina rosario, henry fox-stuart, nick nelson, christopher eccleston's doctor, achilles, ezra squall, regulus black, augustus waters, john laurens, evan buckley, carlos reyes, allen from barbie.

my ships ✮ larry stylinson, firstprince, tarlos, tevan, nick&charlie, wolfstar, jegulus, amy&laurie, morrigan&cadence, hamburr, laurette, hobama<3, eddie diaz with literally anyone (but especially josh russo)

goals and dreams ✮ i want to study abroad, publish my writing, adopt or foster kids, travel to every continent someday, volunteer with lgbt+ homeless/support shelters/charities, attend 4/5 1d boys' concerts, learn at least two languages

my sideblogs ✮ my poetry blog: @thelostboyschapter 1d lyric keywords: @onedirectionandblank

[ao3-feed-sterek]

Valley of Plenty Valley of Monsters

by Nier

In a quaint tavern nestled close to Beacon Vale, Derek's eyes chance upon him—the bard, strumming his lute with an off-kilter cadence and emitting a less-than-inviting melody through his vocal cords. Nonetheless, an unexpected clamor for an encore fills the air, its source still eluding him. The sorry bunch comprising the audience seems immersed in inebriation or engrossed in fervent liaisons, scarcely concerning themselves with the melodies escaping the bard's lips. Yet, despite the indifference, there's one undeniable truth.

The man, at the very least, knows how to glean a few coins from the patrons.

~~~~~

Or an attempt at a The Witcher AU that no one asked for. Where Derek is a Witcher and Stiles is a Bard.

Words: 20999, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Kate Argent, Gerard Argent, Alan Deaton

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Inspired by Wiedźmin | The Witcher, Witcher Derek Hale, Bard Stiles Stilinski, Elf Erica Reyes, Witcher Scott McCall, Blood and Violence, Snapshots, One Shot, Frottage, Kissing, Getting Together, Slow Romance, i think, prose heavy, I Don't Even Know, The Horse's Name is Camaro, Because Stiles, Adventure & Romance, Thugs Hold Stiles Hostage, bathing together, Pet Names, Dancing, Feasts, Alternate Universe - Wiedźmin | The Witcher Fusion, Monsters, Nudity, Mild Hurt/Comfort

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/48408868

[phenixfarts]

PACE animal crossing done because I finished doing hw stuff early 

 I would ask them all to live on my island

[cinderspots]

I finally finished plotting out the series I've been working on for seven years! Its a 35 book series, all very gay, and a loaded cast of seventeen teens with way too much trauma and way too many responsibilities. Its a mixture of horror, action, and comedy (its easier read than explained) and be expecting more posts about it.

Atm its introductory chapters are up on ao3 but i will be removing them when the first book is completely finished. Each book has a famous horror(ish) lore/media inspiration so feel free to figure out the first books, some are more obvious than others. 35 books focusing on main six , supporting four, and romantic seven, and gasp? Everyone is basically a main character so dont worry about those side characters. And most importantly, its all free bc lmao im not THAT good of a writer

The first book: THE MONSTER OF SCOTLAND HEIGHTS