#epic mountains ok. epic

[legokingfisher]

Don’t have much time to draw atm but I wanted to contribute to Sora worldwide trend even though my contribution is comparatively kinda lame (yalls art is so fucking epic)

Appalachian Sora… she drove up the blue ridge parkway to watch the sunrise and get away from her family and she is watching the mist flow in rivers through the valleys. Golden light pours over the ancient, rounded peaks at last and she thinks Arin would like it up here right now. They go to the same school but he lives like an hour and a half away because they are all in the middle of nowhere (Sora would have some serious small town blues)

She works at the singular auto shop within a 20 mile radius because she can’t stand the other nearby options (bussing tables at a diner or like. Retail)

Her other hobbies include:

- gossip with Arin while he’s fishing

- explore abandoned coal mine

[livvyofthelake]

fanfiction ending made me cry my eyes out like a little baby. that was like a cry i would have had in the gut wrenching trenches of middle school. that was a brutal one. anyway. redacted era officially over now... how crazy is that. of course it goes without saying that if you somehow still don't know what "redacted" is or what the fanfiction is, you're never going to find out and you missed a vital piece of my lore and you will never be able to learn it. heart. as a celebration of one of my worst eras that i still think was actually way better and healthier than at least half of my past eras (cobra kai, outer banks, and hell anything is better than stranger things), here is one final reaction gif compilation. sending off a real one <3

[1ovestay]

ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ☆

[yakult-kettle]

Goes to watch Pluto anime bc I only remember the bare plot points from the original Astroboy arc and later one-shot

Has to stop instantly bc im getting emotional over Mont Blanc

[gtinthepot]

MASTER LIST OF GIANT/TINY CONTENT

Disclaimer, I have not looked up everything on this list and most of it was suggested from others. I cannot promise the accuracy of the content. Suggestions for the list are more than welcome, leave a comment on the post for people to browse through after checking to see if its on the list already :)

I’ll be editing and adding to it here and there, so some reblogs of the post might be outdated. I suggest clicking on the source /main post to get the newest version. The old list can be found here.

7 deadly sins

A bug's life

Aaahh!!! Real Monsters (some episodes)

Adventure time

Alice in Wonderland

Alvin and the chipmunks

Amour de poshe (the girl in his pocket)

Animorphs: #24

Ant bully

Ant man (1 and 2)

Antz

Archies weird mysteries (one ep)

Army of darkness

Art Attack

Arthur and the Invisibles

Athena complex (webcomic)

Attack of the 50 foot cheerleader.

Attack of the 50 Foot Woman

Attack of the puppet people

Barbie and the nut cracker

barbie movies (look up specifics)

Barbie Thumbelina

Beastars

Beatle juice

Berserk

Big man japan

Bottle Fairy

Bramble the mountain king. (video game)

Brave little tailor (mickey mouse)

Bugs life?

Captain America: Civil War

Card captor sakura (one ep and some scenes)

Christmas Stories: The Tin Soldier is a good one.

Clifford the big red dog

Cuphead: Don’t deal with the Devil (mostly with certain bosses)

Darby o’gill and the little people

David the Gnome

Disenchantment

Dollman

Downsizing

Dr cyclops

Dr who (one ep: into the dalek)

Dragon ball

Dungeon meshi (a few chapters)

Ella Enchanted

Elusive people.(video game)

Epic

Ernest and Celestine (more of a mini-giant/doll-sized tiny size dynamic)

Fairytale: a true story (1997)

Fantastic Planet

Fantastic voyage

Ferngully

Final space episode 5

Frame arms girl.

Futurama (some episodes)

Gelias and the giant

Gen V

George shrinks

Gods of Egypt

Godzilla

Grandpa in my pocket

Gravity falls (one episode)

Grounded (video game)

Guardians of the Galaxy (vol. 2 more so than the first one)

Gulliver's Children (webtoon)

Gullivers travels (1939, 1977, 2010) as a well as a mini-tv series

Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child: Aladdin

Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child: Season 2, Episode 2 thumbelina

Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child: The shoemaker and the elves

Helmecrons

Help I shrunk my friends

Help I shrunk my parents

Help I shrunk my teacher

Here come the littles

Hilda

Honey I blew up the kid

Honey I shrunk the audience ride at Disneyland

Honey I shrunk the kids

Hornby sets

How to Keep a Mummy ( Miira no Kaikata)

Inch high private eye

Innerspace

Invincible (Some episodes)

It takes two (game)

Jack and the Beanstalk

Jack and the Beanstalk: The Real Story

Jack the giant slayer

Jackie Chan Adventures (one episode)

Jaimes and the giant peach

Jitsu wa watashi wa (mostly the 4th episode)

Journey 2 The Mysterious Island

King kong

Kubo and the two strings

Land of the giants

Legoland

Lilo and Stitch the series (two episodes)

Little (Grrl) 

little nightmares 1 and 2 (game)

Littles

Lord of the rings

Macross sequel shows (-anime-)

Mars attacks!

Mickey and the bean stalk

Micro Machines

Micro Ventures

Militsioner (Video game)

Minami-Kun no Koibito (2015)

Minish cap (video game)

Moana

Modest Heroes Kanini and Kanino (Short film)

Monster (video game)

Monsters Vs Aliens

My hero Academia (some episodes)

My Little Lover

My Miniature Manual (webtoon)

My Monster Secret (specifically one character)

natsume yuujinchou

Nau-lmg

Night at the Museum

Nils holgersson

Ok Ko! lets be Heroes season 3 episode 9 Planet Vacation

One Punch Man (some episodes)

Onward (a few scenes)

Osmosis Jones

Ozzy and Drix

Pans labyrinth

Paper mario sticker star (Video game, two levels)

Peter pan

Pikmin 1, 2, and 3 (game)

Pinocchio

Pokemon sun/moon anime second season (one ep)

Ponyo

Rainbow Magic

Ratatouille

Rick n morty (one episode)

Robotech (-comic series; new ones-)

Robotech (season one/The Macross Saga) (-anime-)

Robotech Remix (-comic series-)

Super Danganronpa 2 (video game, final boss)

Shadow of the colossus (video game)

Small blessings (webcomic)

Small Lands Survive The Wilds (Video game)

Small soldiers (1998)

Smallfoot

Smurfs

Smurfs lost village

Snorks

Spirit of wonder: The shrinking of miss China

SpongeBob SquarePants (the wumbo episode)

Steven universe

Stormlight Archive (-book series; has tiny fae people-)

Strange days at blake holesy high (one episode)

Strange magic

Stuart Little

Sugar apple fairy tale.

Super giant robot brothers.

Tales to Astonish (comics)

Ted Hughes

Tentacular. (video game)

The 3 worlds of gulliver

The 7th voyage of sinbad

The amazing colossal man

The bee movie

The BFG

The bfg 1989

The borrowers (1973, 1993 1997, 2011)

The Borrowers (Arrietty)

The Borrowers exhibition at the Hancock Museum

The Boys (some episodes)

The dwarf and the giant 1901

The Fantastic Planet

The hobbit

The hulk

The incredible shrinking man

The incredible shrinking woman

The Indian in the cupboard

The iron giant

The iron man

The Journey.

The Last Guardian (video game)

The Last of the Huggermuggers by Christopher Pearse Cranch

The Little Bits

The littles

The magic school bus

The nut cracker

The owl house (one episode)

The phantom planet

The Rescuers

The return of the Borrowers 1992 and 1993 tv series

The Secret of Nimh

The secret world of Arrietty

The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde

The simsons (one episode)

The storyteller (one ep)

The Suspicion and #42

The Sword in the Stone

The tale of the princess kaguya

The ultimate avengers (1 & 2)

Thumbelina

Time loader. (video game)

Tinkerbell and The Great Fairy Rescue

Tinkerbell and The Pirate Fairy

Tinkerbell movies

Tinykin. (video game)

Tom and Jerry

Tomb thumb

Townsmen VR. (video game)

Toy story

Transformers

Transformers (old series)

Troll hunter

Troll in central park...??

Trolls

Trolls band together

Ultraman cosmos

Underdogs

Unravel. Porcelain tales. (video game)

Valkyrie Drive Mermaid (one episode.)

Village of the giants

Violet Goes to The Beach (webtoon)

VR Giants. (video game)

We’re Back! A dinosaur story

When the Dolls Woke (book)

Wild Kratts

Wild, wild planet

Wiplala

Wrath of the Titans (one scene)

Wreck it ralph

Yarn (video game)

Zootopia

[thatdeadaquarius]

Episode two of us teleported to genshin and we just play prank on everyone and causing havoc cuz y not <33

Secretly swapping venti and kaeya's vintage wine with the freshest grape juice *evil laugh*

Randomly singing niki minaj and megan thee stalion lyrics in random places <3

WE WOULD BUILD A TREE HOUSE NEAR WINDRISE AND LIVE TOGETHER YAYAYAY

Living that cottage core dream <3

YOU KNOW WE WOULD BITCH

i like to think we'd fufill every genshin fans chaotic dreams if we got yoinked to genshin lol

(obviously, seriously, sorry for replying way too late to this ;-; )

ur talking abt harmless pranks, and while yes we would need to do all of those, im talking abt figuring out how to trick Zhongli into running into Neuvillette LMAOO

ok but the Windrise idea is lowkey genius, i mean if Hilichurls can accomplish structures surely so can we, u know what i subscribe to tho? Treehouses/cool houses in every nation 👌

like cool mountain home for Liyue/inazuma could literally have a house for every island/sumeru would be yet another most epic treehouses/I WOULD LIKE TO HANG OUT/LIVE IN ONE OF THE PYRAMIDS!! not all of them have dead ppl in them i don't think (in teyvat not earth💀)

Im a personal favorite of not just singing nicki minaj songs/2000s party songs, but blasting them thruout Fontaine’s speakers 👍

OR EVEN BETTER-

blasting unhinged music thru the speakers of the CLOCKWORK MEKA, no matter where Fontainians go they can’t escape shit like, “REESES PUFFS REESES PUFFS EAT EM UP EAT EM UP EAT EM UP”

(i like to think our phones would come with/always be at 100% bc we’re “inside the video game” too)

i just posted ur other idea abt this, but telling the Akademiya/Fontaine vision users abt powerpoint nights, and just sitting back with popcorn/genshin food so we can watch the show lol

idk if u saw it for Lantern rite this year, but how mountain shaper and moon carver accidentally messed with cloud retainer by flying kites in her territory? i would give the adepti even more funny gifts so they'd unintentionally prank Each Other lmao

Giving unhinged novel ideas to Yae Miko would also be great, like the beef between Zhongli/Rex Lapis and Venti/Barbatos but enemies to lovers fanfic 💀

she’d print it too lol

(oh god i don't even wanna think abt how much more insane we’d seem if they thought we were their Creators/above the gods 😭 be gods of chaos more like lol)

tysm for all ur big brain ideas orah, 10/10 would love driving Teyvat crazy if we were both there irl

i hope u have a great week!! :D

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[deliciousangelfestival]

I have a cute one for you! Ok so Bucky’s fiancée (the reader) gives Bucky an early Christmas present when he comes home from a mission and the present is the reader’s way of telling Bucky that she’s pregnant with hers and Bucky’s first child

Take your time and have an amazing day/night!🩵

Thank you for the fluff request. I love it 😭💖💖💖. I hope you like it.🥰🎄🎄🎄🎁🎁🎁

****************

Unexpected Present, Unfolding Future

Character: Bucky x fiancee!Reader

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The wind howled like a banshee outside, whipping snowflakes against Bucky's face as he trudged up the porch steps. His shoulders hunched, mirroring the weight of the world on his weary soul. All he craved was a hot meal, a warm bed, and the sweet oblivion of sleep.

As he fumbled with his keys, the door swung open, revealing Y/N in a festive apron, a mischievous grin splitting her face. Like a siren song, the aroma of cinnamon and gingerbread cookies lured him inside.

"Merry Christmas, my hero!" she chimed, holding out a small, suspiciously lopsided box. "Early Christmas gift for the soldier who finally decided to grace us with his presence."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching. "Early Christmas, huh? Didn't know the holiday came early for soldiers who can't tell a gingerbread man from a landmine."

Y/N gasped, mocking, clutching her pearls. "How dare you insult my culinary prowess! These cookies are works of art, even if they do resemble abstract reindeer."

Bucky chuckled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He took the box, his fingers tracing the uneven wrapping job. Inside, nestled on a bed of red tissue paper, lay a pair of baby shoes knitted in the brightest blue yarn he'd ever seen. They looked like they were crafted by a squirrel with a crochet addiction.

Silence descended, broken only by the crackling fire. Then, Bucky's face broke into a grin that could rival the sun. He swept Y/N up in his arms, twirling her around until they were both dizzy and laughing.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he teased, his voice filled with disbelief and pure joy.

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling like fairy lights. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Maybe I just really like tiny shoes."

Bucky stared at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. He felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a feeling unlike anything he'd ever known. He was going to be a father. A wave of protectiveness washed over him, so fierce and new it took his breath away.

He held Y/N close, his metal arm gently cradling her growing belly. The warmth of the fireplace, the aroma of questionable cookies, the sound of her laughter – it all felt like coming home.

"This is the best Christmas present I could ever ask for," Bucky whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Even if the shoes look like a toddler yeti made them."

Y/N swatted him playfully. "Hey! I put a lot of effort into those abominations. And besides, who says our child can't have a unique fashion sense?"

Bucky chuckled, a true, heartfelt laugh that echoed through the room. "Of course, my love. If they want to wear mismatched socks and walk around like a tiny yeti, who am I to argue?"

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of laughter, carols, and questionable hot cocoa that tasted suspiciously like gingerbread and burnt sugar. Bucky held the tiny baby shoes in his palm, staring at them with a reverence he didn't know he possessed.

He imagined the little feet that would fill them, the first steps, the first words. He imagined a future filled with bedtime stories, epic pillow fights, and late-night talks about everything and nothing.

As they drifted off to sleep that night, nestled together under a mountain of mismatched blankets, Bucky knew this was only the beginning of their greatest adventure.

The world outside might be cold and chaotic, but inside their little apartment, it was warm, safe, and with the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and the occasional sartorial disaster.

As Bucky held Y/N close and felt the tiny life growing within her, he knew he would spend the rest of his life protecting them with all his heart and a healthy dose of humor. After all, a little laughter goes a long way, significantly when raising a future child together.

Author Note : Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this fluff series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

[unionizedwizard]

hi i hope this is ok can i hear your tinfoil hat aeneid theory? <3

HI HELLO yes. so. i have this theory that g'raha is extremely aeneas-coded. where to begin.........

aeneas was raised on mt ida by nymphs for his own protection (keeping his demigod identity secret). notably, g'raha was taken to sharlayan (It Is A Mountain And They Do Revere The Nymphs There) when garlemald threatened to invade corvos, on account of the allagan eye, which would have put him and the entire tribe in danger if the empire had realized what it meant

selina (the allagan princess who bestowed the "blessing" (or curse) of the allagan eye to his ancestors) does fulfill a similar role as venus. both aeneas' fate (venus literally named him "bringer of suffering and misfortune" because she slept with a mortal man, while selina was allagan royalty and the miqo'te were their slaves) come as the consequence of a transgression, both come with a specific duty to carry, and a mixed heritage which is difficult to navigate. both aeneas and g'raha are put in a very precarious and isolated situation, which sometimes works to their advantage and sometimes burdens them further

also g'raha receives the full extent of The Curse specifically so that he can deal with The Horrors. he is frustrated and upset with unei and doga and their lies and the burden they force upon him in the same way as aeneas is towards venus when she appears to him disguised as a mortal woman

there are direct parallels between the fall of troy and what we know/see of the 8th umbral calamity (well. it's what calamities are like after all). though we don't know what became of sharlayan, we can assume it fell like the rest of the world's countless civilizations

notably, vergil describes himself as a historian; he is a poet who writes about ancient heroes and the epic of his city's founding. g'raha's first appearance during ARR is as a disembodied voice, taunting the wol and introducing himself as a historian who longs to write a hero's epic, and we learn a little while later that he's an authority on allagan history (eorzea's roman empire). g'raha is like if vergil had been forced to become and play the part of his own character. actually. so you can imagine the kind of stress (and impostor's syndrome) that he's under

the aeneid is very interesting to compare to homeric epics, because while it's the direct sequel to the iliad (what happened after the fall of troy, focusing on the opposite side) and therefore works as a foil to the odyssey, it was written approximately 3 centuries after the iliad was written, and it shows. this mirrors the centuries of slumber and then timetraveling that g'raha went through; at the time the wol arrives to the crystarium, their own epic fresh in their mind, as their present and immediate past, the exarch has the same temporal distance to The WoL Epic(tm) as vergil to the iliad. there is this monumental 3 centuries timeskip in both cases here, present vs history, lived experience vs epic poem, that's just very interesting to examine imo

aeneas is not your typical epic hero. he's a great warrior, but he fights sparingly. he remains very mysterious, and visibly suffers a great deal. he is driven by pietas, the absolute necessity to fulfill his duty, to accomplish his fate, and wants to protect his people; he doesn't even truly know what he is doing, or why, but the gods force him to keep going relentlessly. his main strengths are his willpower and dedication to his duty (he WILL do what he is meant to do), which can make him callous, ruthless, even manipulative (see: his secret departure from carthage leading to dido's suicide). he is also a very gentle soul, extremely diplomacy-inclined, who loves his people dearly, only fighting when necessary; he's burdened by his years and the trauma of the fall of troy and is visibly traumatized. founding rome after crossing the mediterranean (symbolically echoeing with g'raha crossing the rift to the first: there is no going back) is the only way to keep troy alive - he travels with his ancestor's gods. rome is not troy, nor does he consider it as such, but it was an inspiration, and ultimately it's the only thing that remains of troy, the only future for his people. see g'raha's observation that he took inspiration from sharlayan when the crystarium was founded;

is that not the exarch's entire character. for real.

aeneas very often compares himself (unfavorably) to Proper HeroesTM too, regretting he was tasked with this undertaking even though he is unworthy compared to them (even tho he DID manage to make it in the end), because he has a different approach and different qualities. this is extra interesting to point out considering the wol themselves is quite strongly odysseus-coded imo, on top of being The Ultimate Epic Hero In General

cities!! the aeneid is all about cities. troy as a ghost, a painful memory, every-present to aeneas' mind; rome as a promised future, also a ghost, but a tangible reality to vergil and his readers; carthage, where most of the memorable action happens, the only actual, living, prosperous, present city in the entire epic. in a similar way, shadowbringers as a narrative is built around three cities: the crystarium, eulmore, and amaurot. i have already talked about it before but since sharlayan was, thanks to hydaelyn, directly influenced by the ancient world (and thus amaurot), and the crystarium was inspired from sharlayan, we have a similar fallen-city-inspiration ratio between troy and rome and amaurot and the crystarium. (that emet-selch failed to identify this similarity on account of his own ideology directly caused his own demise. isnt that lovely). (oh and also emet-selch threw in his lot with eulmore, in the same way that juno threw in her lot with carthage. we know how it ended for the both of them) (okay, this is not a 1:1 parallel, but work with me here. i did say it was a tinfoil hat theory)

in both cases, the story is about history, looking up to the future in the wake of tragedy, preserving your memories and identity but not at the cost of having life run its natural course, trying to understand what the gods want you to do, and, of course, The Horrors(tm)

i also talked about this before but venus, as the pateon deity of rome, does share a few traits with venat (including having a similar name). i uhhhhh need to reread Lucretius' De rerum natura to make sure i'm not spouting nonsense here, but the general idea is that Lucretius (roman philosopher and poet) described the first (?) complete atomic theory, which i strongly suspect was an inspiration for aetherology - what Lucretius describes when he talks about the atoms is very similar to what we know about aether. AND the most influential part of De rerum natura is an Hymn to Venus, in which he describes her as the very embodiment of nature's flow (cough) and the very precept of life (once again. don't take my word for it because i havent read it since 2017). #hydaelyncore

full disclosure: i got the idea for this theory when i realized that the shadowbringers red mage artefact weapon was called Aeneas. i hadnt read the Aeneid before going through shadowbringers

tl;dr: "the future is where my destiny awaits (and i have to found a diverse city-state in a foreign land about it.)": g'raha "crystal exarch" tia 🤝 aeneas from my roman epics

also i am MOST LIKELY forgetting crucial elements here because i constantly think about it but have never formally written The Theory(tm) anywhere so forgive me if i keep rambling in the reblogs at some point

[vendettasfanfictioning]

The Nightmare of Zoldyck (Musical) was gay as fuck and here's why you should watch it.

Bingeing The Nightmare of Zoldyck reminds me just. Just how fucking gay it was??????? And this was made almost 11 years ago???? And it's just so insane and surreal to me?????? They could've added any sort of twist to the Zoldyck Arc and yet the twist they chose was 🌈🏳️‍🌈??? In all fairness, they did also add Hisoka so maybe that's just how it is lmao

Now you may think I'm joking or being delusional—but no I swear THEY MADE IT GAY AS FUCK OK. IT'S ACTUALLY AMAZING

First, we have the obvious; the adorable, blossoming friendship between Gon and Killua. The very reason this arc exists is because Gon refused to let Illumi's teachings corrupt Killua's self-esteem. It's so, so, so touching in the manga and both anime adaptations, but in the musical they just... The songs just made it come off more romantic?

I'm biased, I love the friends-to-lovers development these two undergo, but I swear, take the shipping goggles off and it's still has a subtle if not in-your-face obvious, romantic tone.

Why? First, the presentation. The Zoldycks are introduced by Milluki through song. They each get lines which are backed up by epic music and stage effects, come together for the iconic chant of, "Zoldyck," before ultimately gathering around and sitting down.

Kalluto, Kikyo, Illumi, Silva, Milluki, and Zeno have a family meeting while Killua's hung above them, representing where he is in the dungeon, and right off the bat, you get hit with "forbidden romance" vibes.

The family talks about what Killua did, what he said, while Killua sings about how he doesn't want to inherit his dad's position. HE ALSO SINGS THIS LINE WHICH IS SO?????

And he sings a little after Illumi visits him in the dungeon and, y'know, messes with his head even more. He writes a letter of sorts to Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio, telling them they should go to protect them from Illumi and he just sounds SO heartbroken...

Then we skip forward, this is after the gang has won Gotou's approval. Gon writes a letter, and it's so fucking sweet because it's basically him saying look. Look at Zebro, Gotou, Canary, these people who care for you, who love you. You're not alone, we understand your feelings, ok? AND THIS PANEL IN PARTICULAR IS SO RAPUNZEL SO ROMEO AND JULIET IDK

And that super serious discussion between Killua and Silva? He gushes about Gon a lot, and they really took some liberties with Silva because this man keeps grinning like he knows his son's got a crush.

And of course Gon's not gonna back down. Canary asks how their Young Master Killua was like, outside Kukuroo Mountain, and... just look.

I'm not gonna include every damn time they sing together but when they finally meet? They're so. so happy. I can't.

And there's this scene after the party (yes they have a goodbye party of sorts for Killua) where Killua thanks Gon for coming to get him and Gon says ofc we're friends and they play around and they're so happy together...

Look at them they ded

There's also this moment when it all goes to shit and THIS SONG SLAPS Gon metaphorically slaps Killua out of it too but just. Just listen to it, it made me cry

And since this happens right after the Hunter's Exam, Kurapika and Leorio are still a bit wary of Killua, so while Gon's ecstatic and unwavering about being Killua's friend, the other two sort of bond in the sidelines as well?

Take this shot of leopika dancing. It's short and sweet and they're so stupid but they're at least getting along!!!

I forgot they bickered a lot, especially during the Hunter's Exam, but now look at them. This isn't the gayest part though, because Leorio finds out there's a hot spring in the Zoldyck mansion... and... yeah... I'll let y'all watch this scene for yourselves but uh, stuff happens and I fucking screamed is all

LIKE LOOK THESE MFS END UP STAR GAZING TOO COME ON

They also share a bit in the end where Gon sniffs Zebro??? And he says that Zebro has a similar scent to Leorio??? And leopika turn to each other and go:

LIKE HELLO?? HELLOOOOO???

And of course, I saved the murder husbands for last. While the gang have their fun, we would sometimes cut to black and these two would be shown, scheming in the dark and talking about their own plans.

They be dropping some bomb ass dialogues tho

AND APPARENTLY ILLUMI GAVE HISOKA A TOUR LMAO

Mind you, there is no fucking explanation as to why Hisoka's there. His narrative purpose is ofc to sow chaos and stir trouble, look out for Gon or whatever, but why is he here specifically in the Zoldyck Estate is never stated. BUT he does refer to it as a vacation. Twice.

Like sure this is just him being a little shit but COME ON. If Illumi really didn't want him there, he'd have chased Hisoka out, swatting him with a broom while at it. But no. They scheme in the dark and Illumi shows him around and Hisoka says it's a vacation. Wonder who could've invited him.......

This interaction also happens. And I will only be thinking about this for the foreseeable future.

HISOKA CHASES AFTER HIM OFFSCREEN IT'S KINDA CUTE AND ALSO RUINING MY LIFE????

Insane that the killugon heart-to-heart, leopika hot spring moment, and hisoillu bickering happen back to back to back. They're all paired off. The way they switch the audience's perspective actually really satisfying. Each couple gets their alone time and it's like seeing the different stages of a relationship. INSANE and HELLA GAY

And, of course, the heart of the cards—easily one of the most iconic lines Hisoka's said, which is, coincidentally, the point of conflict of the entire musical

While Killua's fighting for his life, here's the magician who's basically getting everything he's ever wanted served on a silver platter. This mf is so happy he got to fight Illumi's family lmaoooo

AND HE SAYS IT TWICE!!!!

ONLY FOR MAMA ZOLDYCK TO MIC DROP WITH THIS IN THE END

I just. I love this musical so much. It used to be my comfort watch when I first got into HxH, and while I joke about how fucking gay it turned out to feel (I'm being serious about it though) I do think it's a great production.

The actors did amazing, the dance/fight sequences and the dialogue were so well done, and it just added so much depth to the Zoldycks, y'know? I do wish Alluka was here, but we all know why she's not... That would've been so fun though.

Anyways, if I've convinced you, then you can watch it here!!!

[loverhymeswith]

'Cause I'd Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing at All

Pairing: Rick Flag x GN!Reader

Summary: Inspired by the Three Days Grace song of the same name, this is an angsty little drabble that has been sitting in my drafts for a few months.

Word Count: 829

Warnings: Description of injury, angst

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Despite your clenched jaw, the lie slips out easily. Still, you avoid eye contact with Rick as he examines your bruised and swollen hand; his uncanny ability to read your emotions won’t serve you well right now. If he thinks for one minute that you’re badly injured, you’ll wind up on desk duty faster than you can say Bloodsport. That is, if either of you make it out of here alive.

“Really?” The word stretches out into the darkness, filling what little space there is between you. “Because it looks pretty damn bad to me.”

With so much cynicism lacing the colonel’s tone, your eyes involuntarily flicker upwards, landing on his familiar worry-worn face, illuminated as it is by the weak orange glow of your twin torches. Shadows dance across his battle-scarred features, eerily emphasising all his sharp curves and edges – a Picasso painting brought to life, albeit temporarily.

Thanks to the explosion rocking the building only minutes earlier, the two of you are trapped in what had once been the ground-floor comms-room, a mountain of rubble outside the door now separating you - somewhat ironically - from your squad of deadly prisoners. Those prisoners are undoubtedly enjoying their fleeting moment of freedom at your expense. If this situation doesn’t kill you, Amanda Waller surely will.

“Really. It’s probably just a sprain.” You tap the cracked GPS device somehow still strapped to your injured wrist and send out a silent prayer that Harley and the others will try to find you. And soon. Much like your ongoing attempt to convince Rick that you’re ok, the signal -- and your hope -- is weak.

The second lie draws Rick’s attention away from your hand, his hazel eyes finding you effortlessly even in the darkness. You quickly subvert your own gaze from the sweat beading across his filthy brow. It’s unfair that in such rotten conditions he still manages to look handsome.

“Let’s leave the diagnosis to the doctors, huh?” Calloused fingers brush across your knuckles. While it’s the ghost of a touch, you still find yourself gritting your teeth against the pain. Something is almost certainly fractured, but your hand is far from the only part of you that is wounded in Rick’s presence.

“If you say so.”

Spite tempts you to point out that hospitals and doctors seem like a distant fantasy when the pair of you might be lost down here forever. After all, any potential rescue attempt rides solely on Harley’s twisted moral compass. Between the two of you, have you shown her enough kindness? Perhaps she’ll leave you here to rot – and who could blame her?

But Rick is an optimist; he sees the good in people while you only see all the ways they can let you down. The colonel is no exception.

Careful not to jostle your hurting wrist, you snatch up one of the torches and aim the beam towards the door. The force of the fallen debris from the floors above has warped the metal in such a fashion that nothing short of another explosion is likely to free it from the frame. And you’re fresh out of nitro.

“Where was your head at?” Rick’s deep voice shatters the cloying silence descending over the room.

“Huh?” For the briefest of moments, you’d forgotten he was here. No easy feat considering his proximity, propped up beside you against the wall.

“Exactly. You’re somewhere else today. Distracted.”

He could be referring to any number of events: how you almost missed wheels-up because you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed; how you forget to check-out Harley’s weapons cache, leading to a meltdown of epic proportions from the princess of crime; how easily the guards got the drop on you.

Rick presses on. “You can talk to me, you know. If something is bothering you-”

 “I’m fine.” You cut him off decidedly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Fine…

Has anyone ever said that four letter word and truly meant it?

From the flash of his eyes, it’s clear Rick doesn’t believe you.

You want to tell him the truth. You want to tell him that yes, your hand might be bad, but you’ve experienced far worse. That the pain you carry around with you every day has dulled your other senses, so much so that a knife to the gut would probably hurt less. But you don’t. Instead, ignoring the familiar and constant hurt throbbing deep in the cavern of your chest, you subtly shuffle away from him.

All things considered, the pain of your injury is a welcome relief, allowing you to focus on something other than the truth.

Because Rick Flag broke your heart without even knowing it. And now you’re stuck here beside him, waiting for almost inevitable death together in this dank, dark room.

Perhaps this was how it was always meant to be.

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @babblydrabbly @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @immyownlittlebitch @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @littlefreakingfangirl @s-u-t @xoxabs88xox @lacontroller1991 @mayhem24-7forever

[instructionsnotincluded]

Story Links:

Outer Banks:

Audrey's Version:

Snow on the Beach (JJ Maybank x OC)

Part One | Complete | Over 250,000 Words | 18+

Summary:

Eighteen year old Audrey Routledge had everything going for her...until she didn't. With her dad lost at sea, suddenly the weight of the world is on Audrey's shoulders as she battles keeping her brother out of the system and the police out of her house--all while trying to hold down a full time job. As the bills pile up and hard decisions need to be made, Audrey's not sure life could get any harder. Enter Hurricane Agatha. With the hurricane comes clean ups, sleepless nights, stolen kisses, and a deadly treasure hunt they might not come back from.

State of Grace:

Part Two | Complete | Over 228,000 Words | 18+

Summary:

Just when she thought life couldn't get any harder, it does. It's been a month since her younger brother was declared lost at sea, and Audrey Routledge is not ok. Haunted by nightmares and dark thoughts, Audrey is stumbling through each day as she attempts to pick up the pieces of her broken life. Until she receives a phone call one random afternoon. With it come tears of hope, worried frustrations, passionate kisses, and the continuation of a treasure hunt they might not make it back from.

Into the Mist

Part Three | Work in Progress | 18+

Summary:

The last few months have been the hardest for eighteen year old Audrey Routledge, so when life presents her with a mountain of lemons after jumping from a container ship, Audrey is eager to make lemonade with her friends and family. However, their short lived paradise quickly becomes a nightmare as they encounter new characters, old faces, more mystery, and darker secrets that will shake the foundation of the life she’s created, bringing them closer and closer to their treasure hunt’s epic conclusion.

Deleted Scenes:

JJ and Audrey want to start a family

Logan's Version:

Wild Winds (Rafe Cameron x OC)

Part One | Work in Progress | 18+

Summary:

Wise men once said: "Wild winds are death to the candle.” A rose by any other name is a scandal.

Life on Kildare Island is harsh when you’re born into an abusive family on the Cut, and Logan Maybank has always seemed to get the short end of the stick in both life and love. She works tirelessly to keep her brother and herself alive, trying to fly under the radar of both the Kooks and the police in order to keep her job and remain afloat.

Until Rafe Cameron and his stupid blue eyes ruined all that; sending them both spiraling down the rabbit hole of love, loss, secrecy, and greed, with only each other to hold on to.

And she thought Hurricane Agatha was going to be the worst thing to happen this summer.

Read Requested Story Snippets Here

Misc:

JJ Maybank x Original Character Sneak Peek (Not Audrey's Version)

Masters of the Air:

True North:

Work in Progress | 18+

Summary:

Struggling to defy expectations during the height of WWII, Captain Stella Frank is determined to prove her worth as an Air Transport Auxiliary Pilot in the male-dominated world of aviation. As she navigates the skies with skill and determination, she encounters a diverse array of characters, each with their own struggles and triumphs. Among them is John "Bucky" Egan, whose charm, bravery, and dedication to his fellow pilots catch Frank's attention amidst the chaos of war. Can they navigate not only the treacherous skies but also the complexities of love and loyalty in a time of uncertainty and sacrifice? Or are they doomed to go down in flames like the world around them?

Delete Scenes:

Bucky’s letter to his mother

Frances' letter to her mother

[goldensunset]

i love the mt. coronet theme so much btw

i’m making it my mission to listen to the dppt soundtrack now so i can find all the musical references in pla

[fayes-fics]

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex, passing mention of oral sex, all sorts of feelings.

Word Count: 7.9 k I'm so sorry...

Build a blurb prompt 1: Benedict 👅 smut 🌲 mutual pining 🛌 only one bed - from @amillcitygirl Build a blurb prompt 2: modern Benedict 👅smut 👥friends to lovers 🌲mutual pining 🛌only one bed - from anon

Authors Note: *beep beep* make way for the trope bus, it’s coming thru!! Is this original? No. Was it fun to write? Hell YES! This thing was supposed to be 1k follower celebration Drabble (HAHAHA) but it grew its own legs and took over my brain for the last week. This is my winter epic and I even listened to the namesake song as I was editing it. I hope you all enjoy. Betaed by the total trooper @makaylan and beautiful artwork above made especially by @bridgertontess thank you 🧡

“You’ll just have to stay here,” he shrugs, peering out at the falling snow.

You glance at your watch. It’s 5pm and already dark, snowflakes swirling furiously in the glow cast by the window.

This was not your plan. You are booked onto a late flight back to London tonight. You only came out to the beautiful Highlands for a day in nature after your business trip to Glasgow. OK, and a dose of time with the most handsome friend you have, but mainly for the scenery.

He’s rented a tiny cottage for a week as a painting retreat. Why he would do that in early December is a slight mystery. However, the scenery will undoubtedly be even more breathtaking with a blanket of snow tomorrow—an artist's dream.

“Look, the roads here are tiny and treacherous. It’s too risky to attempt the airport drive tonight in the dark in this snowstorm. I will pay for you to fly home tomorrow instead,” Benedict assures, “penance for not checking the forecast before inviting you?” he winces in the hopes of forgiveness.

“But…” you protest weakly, not exactly hating the idea of being trapped in a remote cottage in the mountains with the man who has haunted your dreams for more years than you care to remember.

“This place is warm,” he points to the roaring fireplace. “And well stocked, in more ways than one,” he adds, gesturing to the kitchenette full of supplies and, with a flourish, to the small selection of single malt bottles on a nearby shelf. “There’s even some festive decor,” he argues.

You are entertained that he believes some sprigs of holly, which he has obviously collected on one of his hikes, count as Christmas decorations. Although, to be fair, wrapped around the bookshelves and candles the way it is, it does look lovely.

‘Yes, but… there's also only one bed,” you argue, nodding to the not-exactly sizable double bed at the other end of the room, partially obscured by a room-dividing bookshelf. Even as you mention it, your belly has a warm fizz at the fleeting thought of waking up pressed against him.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” he says hurriedly in a reassuring tone.

“Ben, don't be ridiculous. You are six feet tall, and that thing is barely five. We are not so young we can just sleep anywhere and still be okay anymore,” you remind him.

“Yeah, thanks for that reminder,” he deadpans.

“We are grown-ups; we can share a bed,” trying to keep your tone breezy, but it feels like the reassurance is for yourself as much as him.

You pretend not to see how he swallows thickly at your suggestion, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I can fashion a barrier with some throw cushions,” you shrug, a short nervous laugh bubbling up as you secretly chastise yourself for suggesting such a thing.

“No, no,” he rushes out very quickly. “What I mean is… it’s not a big bed, so by the time we do that, we would both be clinging to the edges. Let’s just, as you say, be adults about this and share the best we can.”

“Agreed.” You give a business-like nod, wanting to change the topic.

“Besides, the night is young,” he states, clapping and rubbing his hands together as if reading your mind. “What do you say we cook dinner together? Then, well, it’s card games or jigsaw puzzles, I’m afraid,” he skews his mouth with an apologetic twist.

“Sounds delightful on all counts,” you assure and bump him with your shoulder.

The evening seems to fly by, and the snowstorm outside somewhat abates as you make a delicious spaghetti bolognese together. Even though it's a tiny kitchen space, you make it work, moving around each other with an almost balletic fluidity as soft music plays from a Bluetooth speaker. There's no Wi-Fi or even much phone signal out here, but he came prepared with songs loaded onto his laptop. You exchange easy chat about mutual friends and what has been happening since you last saw one another a few weeks before.

As you sit down to eat together, the conversation flow continues. It's one of those meals you sop up the sauce from your plate with the warm bread rolls you serve as a side. Lingering in your chairs long after eating is complete, chatting amiably and animatedly about anything, everything and nothing all at once, with a delicious bottle of scotch.

Later, you take turns in the bathroom, cleaning teeth and changing into pyjama bottoms, and then you drift to the living room area. You watch as Benedict pours you both a nightcap into scotch glasses and glance outside to see the storm has picked up again, large clumps of fluffy snow gather in the corner of the window pane; you feel very cosy in this small but perfectly formed little rustic cottage.

“So, how have you been entertaining yourself all alone here for the last four nights?” you inquire, enjoying the smooth, smoky burn of the single malt.

Benedict is now sprawled across the nearby armchair in the most Benedict way, legs akimbo.

“I’ve read two books, and I’ve slept for nine hours every night,” he confesses, taking a sip of his drink and looking at you over the top of his glass.

The room feels like it's getting warmer regardless of the fire; how much is due to the delightful fog of whisky in your veins versus the handsome man across from you is indecipherable.

“Are you not lonely?” you blurt out.

“I live alone in London. What's the difference?” his brow knitting in confusion.

“Alone in the city is very different to alone out here,” you offer, “you can’t be that lonely when you’re only twenty feet from your neighbour through a wall.”

“Hmm, never thought about it like that,” his mien turns thoughtful, scratching his palm on the shadow of stubble on his chin.

You hear the rasp from where you sit, and you almost squeak in surprise as your treacherous mind supplies a vivid snapshot of that stubble teasing the soft skin of your lower belly as he looks up at you with a seductive smirk. You have to shake your head to get rid of it.

“Fear of murder out here is different,” you offer, trying to reroute your thoughts.

“Morbid,” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow with a bemused expression on his face.

“Out here, no one can hear you scream,” you jest, aping the movie line.

He guffaws into his glass. “Sometimes that can be a good thing.”

“Murder?!”

“The ability to scream and not be heard,” he clarifies, his tone markedly more languid than before.

“Painting not going well?” you ask with a chuckle.

“It’s going great, but not what I was referring to,” he argues, and you can’t seem to look away from his mouth all of a sudden.

Damn, how much whisky have you had?

“Had a girl here, Bridgerton?” your venture, a flutter in your chest even as you ask.

“Not until now,” he scoffs, but the intensity in his hazy blue stare causes a riot in your stomach.

You have to look down at your feet before you do something stupid, like climb into his lap and suck on his luscious bottom lip.

“Have you been masturbating loudly?” you quip, still looking down, the thought leaving your lips before you can censor it.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, making you look back at him—big mistake. His eyes look stormy, and you can see a vein in his neck pulsing hard. Like you’ve awoken something.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you stutter even as your mind floods with images of just that—him stroking his cock and panting, preferably your name.

The atmosphere feels a little too thick, and you briefly curl your lip into your mouth and bite it to give yourself something else to focus on.

“More whisky?” you offer, standing up and changing the subject.

“Sure.” He holds out his glass, and you swear his fingers intentionally slot between yours as he passes it to you.

You use the few moments it takes to refill your drinks, with your back turned, to gather your thoughts and slow your breathing. Having served, you sink onto the couch again but intentionally shift to face him more directly. The alcohol makes you bold and intrigued to know where this might go. He seems to do the same, his feet looping over the armchair's edge and almost touching yours.

“Hey, do you remember that summer when we were, l think, maybe twelve and…”

“Excuse me, point of order,” you butt in, “If you were twelve, I was ten. OK? Continue…” you motion with your hands for him to go on.

“Yes, thanks for reminding me I am older,” he snarks and skews his mouth into an affectionate pout.

“You are welcome, old man,” you tease with a slight smirk.

“Well, anyway… do you remember that summer Colin came home with headlice? And Ant’s answer was to shave all of our heads? Mum almost had a heart attack when she walked in on that. She was forever grateful he’d only gotten around to doing us three boys. She might have died if we’d made it down to Daph or El…” he is laughing heartily around his scotch glass at the memory.

“Remember it?!?” you pipe up, “of course I do! Don't you remember you were trying to push me in front of your sisters in Ant’s barber line? You seemed concerned to ensure I either got rid of or never got them in the first place; I don't remember which,” you laugh, an ache of fond nostalgia in your chest at little Benedict.

“Well, of course, I’ve always looked out for you,” he rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You smile a genuinely warm smile at him. He's been a wonderful person in your life for as long as you can remember.

“But you’ve always looked out for me too. I remember you brought me a Malteser every day when I was sick with the mumps.”

“I did?!” your voice incredulous; you do not remember doing so.

“Yes, and I've never forgotten it,” he voices sincerely before he takes a draw of his drink. “But then there is so much about you that is unforgettable, isn't there?” he adds, looking at you with an intensity you don't know what to do with.

“Stop it,” you answer bashfully, embarrassed to meet his gaze, staring beyond his shoulder at the snow falling heavily and sticking to the window in fluffy clumps. “And if we’re on this flattery train, what about you? You think I don’t know it’s been you sending me an ‘anonymous’ rose every single Valentine's Day?”

He gapes at you in surprise. “Wait, how did you know it’s from me?’”

“You are the sweetest person I know. It could never be anyone but you, Ben.” You shrug as if the answer is obvious, “and I know it was never out of pity for the times I’m single because you sent one those years I was with Dan, which used to make him so mad, by the way, and when I was with Julian and Paul….”

“Urgh, Dan deserved to be mad,” his tone dismissive, and his face ticked, “I always hated him.”

“You hated everyone I dated, that you met anyway,” you point out, that fact just dawning on your as you speak it.

“But him the most,” he grouses with a sour expression.

“Why?”

“‘Cos he got the closest to marrying you. And I really didn’t want to have to do that whole stand-up in church and object thing. But, by god, I would have.”

His powerful words stun you; you had no idea how deep his feelings on the subject ran.

“Y… you would?” you stutter.

His eyes are so intense now. Even as he takes a swig, he doesn't look away. “He was not worthy of you,” he declares, slow and deliberate, enunciating each word crisply.

“So, who is?” you ask quietly as you take a sip, the question echoing hollowly in your glass.

“I haven't met anyone yet,” he notes with finality.

You had no idea he had judged every single one of your boyfriends and, what’s more, found all of them to be somehow lacking. In hindsight, he was correct, but he never said anything to you at the time, and you can't decide if you want to hold that against him. It might have saved you a lot of heartache and possibly a lot of money.

“Well, if you meet someone that has the Benedict seal of approval, you’ll be sure to send them my way, yeah?” you volley, your voice light.

He breaks into a smile that makes something flutter strong in your ribcage.

“Certainly. I hope you don't mind waiting until possibly your eighties for me to find a worthy suitor,” he jokes.

“Oh god, really?” you groan, “but I can’t not have sex until then,” you lament and kick your legs out as if in a fit of pique.

“Oh, you can have all the sex you want,” he lobbies back, waving his hand dismissively, “you just can’t fall in love,” his eyes twinkle with mischief you’ve always found beguiling.

“Duly noted,” you giggle.

There is a beat where you just look at each other with a shared fondness that makes your heart ache a little—perhaps under different circumstances, he could be the one person worthy of you, as he puts it.

“Well, that is the last log on the fire dying down. I'm not going out in that damn snow to fetch more, so I think the safest thing to do is get under the covers before it gets too cold in here.” he opines.

“Ben, it's 10:30 pm… really?” you whine, “are you really going to bed already, grandpa?” but as you complain, you stifle a yawn.

“Haha, I saw that yawn!” he retorts triumphantly, “and I've got news for you, missy. You are going to bed too.” He grabs both of your hands and easily hauls you off the sofa.

“Why?!?” you scoff but are secretly enthralled when he rounds behind you, his sizable hands landing warm on your hips and propelling you towards the bedroom area.

“Because I’m not having you crawl under the covers later bringing in all that cold air with you, nope, no thank you, not happening,” he chimes over your shoulder.

“So I have to go to bed now?!” you throw your hands up in the air, but he keeps propelling you forward.

“Yup,” he grins, popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously.

You capitulate with a weary sigh. “Urghhh, fine. But I will be up reading for a few more hours, so I hope you can sleep with the light on.”

“Fine with me,” he chuckles, herding you towards the bed. “I once slept in your dorm room when your flatmate was having a full-on dance party. I think I can sleep through your reading.”

You collapse onto the bed giggling at that memory, tugging off your shoes and socks but nothing else as he does the same. He pulls the covers back, and you both settle under, still in your fleecy jumpers. Without your socks, however, your feet feel freezing, and with a wicked grin, you cook up a solution.

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with your feet?!? Why are they so cold!!” he exclaims as your toes wrap around his exposed ankle.

He twists to try and get away from you, but your feet chase him under the covers, you laughing, him shrieking.

“My hands are cold too,” you chortle, clamping them onto his surprisingly muscular forearm.

He squeals in the most undignified manner, trying to shake your grip, but you just limpet on harder, giggling in that way only tipsy people do.

There is the most delightful resulting tussle, him trying to wrestle your hands and feet away as you try your damndest to keep them on him—the duvet entwining around all of your limbs.

You end up with his weight and warmth partially on top of you, pinning you down, him triumphantly ensnaring your wrists and holding your hands firmly onto the pillow. Your joint heavy breathing and giggles slowly die out as you stare at each other. Your faces have never been so close before. You have no doubt your pupils are as blown as his, and you are certain that he can feel the racing heartbeat at your wrists where he pins you down. His breath is warm on your cheek.

After a few silent moments, his gaze drops to your mouth; he suddenly mutters an apology and starts to pull away.

As if in slow motion, you push up and press your lips to his. You are not thinking at all, just going with your instinct. His lips are warm and plush, and you want more. So much more.

You feel the moment his whole body freezes; he is stunned in the truest sense of the word.

You pull back quickly, sinking into the pillow under him.

“Oh god. I’m so, so sorry,” you whisper, mortified, “please forgive me, I….”

Your words die out as he makes a noise you’ve never heard before. It seems to come from deep inside him, making every hair on your body stand on end.

Then he is on you. Closing the gap between you and capturing your lips with a passion that steals your breath and thoughts. He is kissing so hard, so quickly, you feel lightheaded, pressing you into the mattress under his body. His lips open over yours, his tongue teasing against your lips. He tastes of toothpaste, traces of whiskey and something that is all him, and you flood your underwear; there's also a noise from your throat that doesn’t sound human. He kisses like a storm, hot and electric, and you want to drown in him.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere, and so yours follow suit. It’s a desperate clambering of wanting more. Before you can completely acknowledge it, his hands are questing under your jumper, squeezing your waist, sliding up and over your bra, and tweaking a nipple as his tongue parries with yours.

“Please, please take this off,” he implores passionately into your mouth, tugging at your top. His voice, this close and breathless, is lethal. He is everywhere, surrounding and covering you, and your focus narrows to just him as he sits up to peel off his jumper and t-shirt together, exposing his torso. You freeze. Your arms crossed, halfway through taking off yours.

“Fucking hell,” you exhale before you can stop yourself.

You figured Benedict would be in shape from the feel of his body when you hug, but you haven't seen him shirtless in a long time, and just how much in shape he is, is a revelation. He smiles demurely at your outburst, which makes you want him even more if that were possible.

“Take yours off,” he sounds impatient, and you realise you are still frozen in the same position. You quickly whip yours over your head; his responding noise is your new favourite sound. You feel so grateful you only brought nice underwear on this trip; your lacy bra appears to work for him.

“The knickers match,” you murmur, revelling in the flash in his eye.

You grab his hand and move it to the drawstring on your pyjamas. His long slender fingers pluck the bow tied there; his gaze is on your face the whole time, his kiss-damp lips glowing softly in the low light. You breathe deeply and can’t look away from his captivating face. When the string relents, he winks. Rather than pull them down, his hand quests inside and between your legs.

You gasp and buck up off the pillow as warm, strong fingers press on your clit through the lacy fabric. You know he can feel your heat, just how wet the material is.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he rumbles low and sinful as his fingers tease a circle over your clit. “Although this seems unreal - I half assume I’m going to wake up in a minute with my hand wrapped around my cock, alone.”

Hearing him say the word cock makes you moan. He licks his lips, and his fingers curl firmer on you.

“Tell me this is real; I’m not dreaming again,” he pleads fervently, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing your air. He is achingly beautiful this close up, his eyes just a thin ring blazing around dark inky pupils staring into your depths. This man has always been able to make you feel seen, but this close, this intense, it feels like he’s peering into your soul.

“You’re not dreaming, Ben,” you reply shakily, trying not to lose all composure at what the word ‘again’ might imply as he gradually tortures you with unhurried, steady movements.

He is watching your face, so closely observing, cataloguing your micro-expressions. His fingers move, spidering along the lace trim before pushing under the fabric this time, sliding down through your trimmed pubic hair and into your naked, soaked folds.

“Ben!” You call out, grasping that strong forearm again, biting your lip and staring into his fiery gaze.

“What do you need?” he questions. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked you that in bed.

“You,” you reply honestly.

“You have me, 110% you have me,” he asserts in a tone that melts something in your chest. “As if you don't know it, you’ve had me for many years,” he admits as his hand slides lower. You cry out as he pushes two fingers just a fraction inside you.

“Fuck, you are on fire,” he exclaims, a shaky exhale across your lips.

“Only for you,” you answer, knowing you’ve never been this turned on before in your life.

He growls, actually growls. And then his lips are back on yours in the most potent kiss yet. You pulse around him and groan into his mouth as he sinks his fingers deeper. When the kiss ends, you glance down your body, seeing the stiff peaks of your nipples poking insistently through the lace and his sinewy forearm buried into your pyjama bottoms.

“Do you like what you see?” his voice a velvety tease.

“I’d like it even more if we were naked,” you respond honestly.

He chuckles at that, and his lips descend, dropping light kisses down your neck as his fingers tease you, surging in and out of your body so achingly slow. His thumb rests on your clit, a little nudge of pressure every time his fingers rock into your channel.

“I need to make you come like I need air,” he confesses, his voice resonant, his warm breath skittering over the sensitive skin of your throat. It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“Please do…” it’s a quiet plea.

You feel the curve of his cheek as he smiles, and the fingers inside you flex.

“I suppose if you’d like to be more naked, then I’d better strip you down first,” he remarks, gently withdrawing his fingers.

Warm hands hook into your underwear, and he scooches away, pulling them down your legs, taking your PJs with them. Suddenly, the image that flashed in your mind earlier becomes a reality, his stubbly chin grazing your belly as he crawls back over you.

“You look amazing,” he sighs over your belly button and leans his forehead on your stomach as he takes a deep breath. “You smell it too.”

He runs his nose and lips over your skin as he surges up and nuzzles your bra, pleading with his eyes for you to remove it as he pulls the straps down over your arms, kissing along the lacy cup edge.

When his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you grab his hair and push up against him, the swoop of sensation in your belly like riding a rollercoaster, the thrill tingling along the back of your scalp.

He moves to lay beside you, and you watch the duvet move as he strips off his bottoms under it. Suddenly there is a thick wave of body heat as he rolls next to you; you feel something sizeable and solid brand your hip.

“Oh, Ben,” slips out on instinct, but he stops your questing hand.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head and smirks at your corresponding pout. “When you have come, preferably screaming, then you can touch my cock. Okay?”

You physically feel the shiver down your spine at that line. Who even says things like that?

He smiles against your temple as he slips his fingers back into you, and you moan at the sensation. He curls his body around you, legs twining around your right one to hold you open. That cock is still rigid on your hip; it feels sizeable and delicious.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing a circle over your clit his fingers stroking in a come hither motion.

“This… exactly what you are doing,” you reply breathlessly, “just please don't stop and maybe go a little harder?” you request timidly.

He smirks and pushes his fingers deeper; his motions get stronger and faster. You close your eyes and nod, licking your lips.

“Yes, that oh god Ben, thattttt,” you stumble as his magical fingers spiral you higher.

When they jab a spot inside, a bloom of pleasure hits you, and your eyes fly open, going wide.

“Oh, that’s the spot,” he preens, redoubling his efforts as you start to pant loudly, clinging to his arm and whining his name—the hot and intense pleasure building remarkably fast.

“That’s it come on,” he encourages, whispering into your hairline right above your ear; his tone is both soothing and achingly filthy.

“Ben… I,” your words morph into needy noises, drunk on the sensations rippling through your body, fanning out from his fingers buried inside you.

“Yes, yes,” he hisses, “you’re close now; I can feel it. Look at me,” he orders.

And you do. Mouth hanging open, squirming on his fingers, feeling something primal washing over you. His eyes burn into yours.

“Don’t fight it,” he warns.

It's almost like permission; you feel something inside you give way. You scream loudly as a tide of orgasm washes over you. Blood rushes in your ears, and you feel his leg bear down over the apex of your thigh, holding your pelvis onto the bed as you cry and convulse. Your body fights his fingers, trying to push them out as your whole channel clenches in strong waves.

After a few moments of deep breaths, you open your eyes, and he kisses your cheek, then your lips.

“Wow… that was…. absolutely amazing,” he confides, kissing more. “And it's a damn good thing no one can hear us here. You scream like a horror movie queen, and I mean that with all the very best compliments.”

You laugh a little abashed and bury your face into his armpit, loving the smell of his deodorant and just him.

“Your turn,” you mumble, deciding to be bold and snake a hand down your side to grab his cock at your hip.

It’s large and thick enough your fingers don’t quite meet when you wrap around it. It makes your insides melt at the thought of how it would feel sliding into you. He makes the neediest huffing noises as you twist onto your side to face him and begin an unhurried rhythm, watching that pretty cock twitch in your hand.

You tease him with a gentle twisting motion, squeezing a little as you reach his head, swiping a thumb over the bead of precum that appears, gently massaging his frenulum as he lets out a faint moan. His hand covers yours, stilling your movements.

“This is so wonderful, but I need you to stop if you want sex. Do you want to… have sex?” he asks so demurely your heart clenches.

“Yes, Ben, please,” you whisper.

“I didn't bring any condoms with me,” he says quietly, “I didn't think I’d meet another soul up here, let alone well…” he trails off, pitching forward, so his lips are warm on your cheek.

“I didn't either, but I'm on the Pill,” you shrug. You've never had first-time sex without a condom, but this man isn't a stranger; he's a lifelong friend, and you trust him with your life.

“I know,” he says softly, kissing your nose.

“Wait, how do you know that?” your brow knitting lightly.

“I know everything about you,” he asserts against your skin, staring into your eyes. “How you take your tea - English breakfast before 2pm, Earl Grey after, both with milk and one sugar. I know how the tip of your tongue here,” he softly trails his nose over the corner of your mouth, “sticks out of your mouth when you type on your laptop. I know you always loop your glasses into the neckline of your top,” a finger tracing gently over the swell of your breast, “and somehow always forget they are there and have a ten-second panic every time.” He laughs gently. “I even know how you prefer plain Hobnobs over chocolate; I have no idea why, and you are so wrong on that, by the way,” he shoots you a devastating lopsided grin. “And I know you are on the Pill because I've watched you take them religiously for years; when I stay at yours, and you make coffee in the morning, it’s the first thing you take before your multivitamin.”

His casual recounting of so many little, human things that make you, you, astounds you. This man knows you better than you know yourself, and you get a weird swooping sensation in your chest. Of elation that you've finally figured it out, he might just be the one - your human, but also a crushing regret you haven't done so sooner. You could have been doing this, intimately entwined with this wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive, handsome man, for so many years.

Not wanting to waste any more opportunity and so very desperate to have him inside you, you use all your strength to roll him onto his back and climb on top. Surprised and aroused, he looks up at you devotedly, his pupils blown wide.

Silently and without breaking eye contact, you reach between your bodies, line up his weeping beautiful cock, and sink onto him without another thought. The needy noise he makes is like poetry.

He feels perfect, and you close your eyes to revel in being stretched around him, a solid hot presence filling you up and holding you so open. Just the perfect length and girth for you, almost like his cock was made for you.

Warm hands grasp your hips, and your eyes fly open and look down at him, his expression pleading with you to move. Gradually you rise up, then drop down just once, savouring the sensations as he drags against your walls.

“You feel perfect,” he groans “please….”

You know what he is asking, begging for - more. Something in you wants to draw this out, go so achingly slow both of you get mindless. Luxuriate in this carnal, sensual meeting.

“Talk to me,” you implore, starting a leisurely pace.

“What about?” you watch him glance down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into you as you sink down.

“Talk to me, Ben,” you repeat but pointedly, grabbing his chin to look at you and raising an eyebrow.

There's a lightbulb of understanding behind his eyes, and that killer crooked smile spreads across his face.

“You like my voice, don't you?” he says, pitched low, and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands as leverage for your movements.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, gasping as the pleasure grows between your legs just as he says those few words.

“I know,” he smirks, “I’ve known for years.”

You look at him in surprise. “Wait, how?” you breathe, disbelieving.

He grabs your shoulders and pulls you down on top of him: so much heat and warm flesh.

“I have noticed your pupils dilate every time I drop my voice just like this,” he murmurs low and sinful into your ear. “The temptation to say so many dirty things has been so strong. God, I love it when you are aroused, and you think you can hide it. I knew you were getting wet; it would take all my willpower not to grab and kiss you senselessly. Especially those days when you are only in a little floaty skirt, I could actually smell it. Delicious and sweet and so fucking sexy. That little squirm you would do. How you move your body is fucking sinful. And now I get to enjoy it. You riding me like this. Fuck, if this isn't every fantasy I've ever had coming true.”

By the time his filthy soliloquy is done, you are panting hard, not from the exertion as you rock on him but the way he has pushed you so close to orgasm with so little effort - just his voice and words.

“Ben,” you shudder, “I….” words fail as you feel your body flush.

“I can feel you are fluttering. Are you going to come so soon?” he exhales, impressed. “Oh god, please, please do it,” he urges. “I need to feel it.”

You sit up and reach down to touch your clit, and he swears at the sight. You are tipping over the edge, stilling your movement as you sit with him at your hilt and clench around him. He feels impossibly huge inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” he groans long and loud, clenching his teeth. You know he is also fighting the urge to come, wanting this to last much longer.

Greedy for more, for another stronger climax, you go to move again, but he stops you.

“Please don't move, not yet,” he pleads, grabbing your hips and quelling your movement. “I need… a few moments, please.”

You smile down at him indulgently and link your hands again, bringing the back of his hand to your mouth and kissing it delicately. Then to be a tease, you envelop his middle finger in your mouth, running your tongue over it, tasting his tangy skin. He growls as you add his pointer finger and suck hard, staring down at him heatedly.

“This isn't really helping,” he warns reluctantly with a playful pout.

You let his fingers slip out of your mouth and guide his hand to your breasts, pressing his now-damp fingers against your nipple. He enthusiastically grips your flesh, and you throw your head back and moan as he teases your sensitive buds, pinching them between his fingertips. You gyrate your hips, dragging his tip against your cervix.

There is another growl, and suddenly you are tipped over onto the mattress, him still buried inside you. He grabs your legs and loops his arms under them, pulling your body so open under him.

“Hold onto me… twine your arms around me,” he instructs.

You do, fingers digging into his smooth, muscular torso. Panting in anticipation; at the feel of him holding you down, his pelvis crushed against your engorged clit.

He begins to move, and you can't help but make noises; he just overwhelms all your senses. His kisses, his skin, his arms, your legs held high and wide. He is almost delicate in his motion, but you can tell he is holding back.

“Don't be too gentle, Ben,” you beg, bringing one hand up to cup his jaw and running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Please just fuck me.”

His mouth captures your thumb, and you gasp as he spears into you hard. You hiss your approval as he crowds over you to kiss you fiercely. Then everything is a haze as your mind switches off, and you are rooted in your body, chasing sensation as he takes you hard. He feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as you lay under him, pinned and almost helpless to this onslaught but wanting nothing more than being right where you are. For a first time together, it’s not awkward or timid; it's exciting and mindblowing but somehow still safe, knowing you can trust him with everything, including your body.

Between kisses, there are whispered encouragements against lips and hands grasping so tight to each other as movements become more frantic and fast. He is hitting your clit on each stroke and panting, so present in the moment, eyes boring into yours. You know he is so close, hanging by a thread when he screws his eyes shut and pleads with you to come with him. A few more strokes and it is happening, your orgasm hitting you hard and breaking over your body in waves, fanning out from your core as you clench around him, making your muscles spasm and your toes curl. You feel him coming hard, too, a warm bloom inside you as he jerks a few heavy thrusts, then stills, mouth open over yours and huffing gulps of air as he twitches.

After a few moments of deep breaths and slumped limbs, he pulls his face up to kiss you tenderly.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you giggle and nod your head. “Why haven't we been doing that for the last god knows how many years?” he shakes his head, his voice a little ragged and rough-edged.

“I don't know, but we should be doing a lot more of it,” you respond brightly, “make up for lost time?”

He laughs warmly and agrees, taking his weight off you and rolling and rearranging your bodies so you are both on your sides, facing each other, hands laced together, noses touching. And that is how you fall asleep.

—

You awaken to dazzling sunlight streaming in, reflecting off all the snow. You wince against the brightness and clamp your eyes shut, burrowing back into Benedict. You feel surrounded, in the best sense of the word. He is a warm solid presence behind your back, an arm slung around the dip of your waist, a hand curled around your breast, legs entangled, downy hair tickling your calves. And best of all, a hard cock nestles the back of your thighs. You flex your hips and shuffle until his tip is poised right at your entrance. He stirs, and there is a hot exhale on the back of your neck.

“Get inside me, please,” you petition quietly, voice scratchy from sleep.

Wordlessly, he rolls his hips, surging into your body in one swift stroke. You moan so loudly that he huffs a laugh, then stills, buried inside you.

“Now go back to sleep,” he grumbles affectionately, arm pulling you into him tighter, your whole body flush to his, curling his legs up so you are almost in the fetal position.

“Like this?!” your tone incredulous, as his fingernails trace an idle ellipsis around your areola.

“Mmm hmmm,” his hum vibrates into your spine.

“Bennnn…” you protest, clenching around him, so he groans deeply.

“I promise to fuck you so hard you forget your name… later, if you let me sleep just a little more,” he proposes, nuzzling your hair.

What a lovely thought. You lay still in his arms for a few minutes, but his cock holding you open is far too distracting.

“Bennn…” you try again.

“Shhhhh…” he reacts, but you can tell he's not sleepy anymore; there is a smile on the nape of your neck.

“You feel too good; I can’t sleep,” you whine, slightly petulant.

“You’re not even trying,” he chuckles richly.

“You can't do this to me,” you wheedle, your breath hitching triumphantly as he tilts his pelvis and slips a fraction deeper.

“If I fuck you right now, will you stop complaining?” his tone laced with amusement.

“Hmmm, maybe,” you shoot back, twisting to glance at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes dancing with mirth.

Your lips meet, and it's a breathy passionate kiss, all open mouths and tongues, teasing each other and fighting for dominance.

As your mouths dance, he starts to move at a languid pace, just rocking into your body gently, and it’s the best wake-up you have ever had. You cover his hand on your breast, and he intuits what you are asking, squeezing the swell, your nipple snagged between his middle and pointer finger. You break the kiss, and his teeth gently skim the cord on your neck as he speeds up a little.

“Will you wake me up like this every day, please?” you sigh, not thinking about the implications of your words, just drunk on the sensation.

“Happily,” he rumbles and spears a little stronger, making you call out his name.

“The sound I really want to wake up to though….” his voice teasing and low. “is this one…” and his hand slips from your breast to between your legs.

You moan and writhe in his strong hold, little sparks of pleasure firing where he touches.

“That’s it, that’s the sound,” he encourages as you both move together in sync.

It’s a wonderfully sensual experience, growing in intensity until he rolls you over onto your front, still inside you, fucking into you from behind, covering your entire body with his. His hand is trapped between your body and the mattress while teasing your clit.

“Oh god, Ben,” you cry as he seems to slide deeper than ever, your thigh trapped shut together, his legs bracketing yours, using all his effort to drive into you, the tone shifting from languid to vigorous. You’ve never been taken in this position before, and at this angle, he is hitting all the right spots inside you to make your eyes roll back and bite the pillow.

It hurtles you fast, beginning to pant raggedly, and you urge him on, asking for more and harder, and he obliges, thrusting so strong your whole body rolls and the bed squeaks loudly in protest. Your voice becomes one long moaning sound; you are pushing back onto his cock as much as possible, a chorus of please don't stop as he drives you fast towards a climax. His body is bowed, breathing hot puffs of air across your upper back, with an occasional kiss, his lips soft and wet.

He holds you on a precipice for a moment; you crane to look back at his face pleadingly; his expression is wild and so gorgeous it catches your breath.

“You are magnificent,” he rasps against your skin.

Then the hand not on your clit suddenly spanks your butt cheek while his teeth sink into the top of your trapezius muscle, pushing you over the edge, calling his name as you pulsate hard around him. Him grunting and thrusting deeper, fighting your clenching muscles. Then he stills, and every muscle tenses as he empties into your body, almost shaking from the intensity.

He collapses onto your back, breathing in wracked sounds.

“Fucking hell,” you both say almost in unison, then giggle at your matching assessment of the experience.

He pulls out of you reluctantly and flops down onto the mattress to your left, wrapping an arm around you and manoeuvring so are the little spoon once again.

“That was intense,” he voices, and you make a noise of agreement, lacing your fingers with his and holding your joined hands up, watching his fingers sink between yours and curve over, his fingertips resting on your palm.

“We are awesome at sex,” you opine. Benedict chuckles at that, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “And you know what that means?”

“What?” his tone lilting.

“We just have to keep doing it all the time,” you observe with a mock, burdened sigh.

“What a terrible hardship for us,” he concurs with an ironic laugh, nuzzling your neck with a grin on his face. __

Half an hour later, you have showered together - which proved almost as distracting as morning sex until the hot water tank ran out, and you jumped out squealing as the water turned ice cold - and are now leisurely making brunch. You both only wear towelling robes you stole from your Glasgow hotel room, the fireplace roaring again. You agree to go for a walk in the snow later, neither of you mentioning booking your flight home.

“Wait, why is this sofa so bloody uncomfortable” you bemoan, taking a sip of coffee and flicking idly through a book you took from a shelf. “I don't remember it being this bad last night,” you ponder aloud.

“Well, you had had a couple of whiskeys by then,” Benedict points out as he cooks an amazing-smelling breakfast a few feet away in the kitchenette.

“True, but honestly, what is going on with it?” you grumble, putting the book aside, not yet sufficiently caffeinated.

“Sofa beds tend not to be comfortable. As either a sofa or a bed,” he rattles out, flipping a slice of bacon in the pan.

You grind to a halt in your efforts to get comfy.

“Sofa bed…?” You echo out loud.

He suddenly freezes and realises what he has admitted.

“Benedict bloody Bridgerton!!” you exclaim loudly, standing up, “did you trick me into sharing your bed?!?”

He turns around slowly, knowing he is foiled and pulls a sheepish face.

“Yeahhhh, a lil bit…” he admits as you gape at him, attempting his most winning remorseful smile. “But, in my defence…” he adds, waving the spatula, “you are the one who kissed me first. I just stacked the deck; you drew the first card.”

He expertly swerves the cushion you throw at him before flicking off the stove and pushing aside the pan.

“Right…” he charges at you as you squeal.

He corners you with ease in the compact space and throws you over his shoulder.

“We are using this stupid sofa bed right now,” he instructs and, rather attractively, casually flicks a handle on the side with his foot to open it. He practically throws you onto the (admitted thin, rather uncomfortable) bed and tugs open your robe, snaking his way down your body and throwing your legs over his shoulder, shooting you a molten hot gaze from between your thighs.

You have no arguments with this development. None whatsoever.

—

You return to that tiny cottage every year for that same week as a ritual—a little private anniversary. Sometimes you stay through New Year, just the two of you ringing in the entire festive season.

He buys it for you as a wedding gift, and you cry at the sentimentality of the man buying you the place you first got together. (One thing you do early on - buy a new, comfortable sofa.)

It becomes a haven for your lives together, even when you have to bring cots and camp beds for your children, all sleeping communally in that one room. (You don’t tell them, but all of your children are named after characters in an obscure old book he finds hidden in the rafters when you are renovating while pregnant with your firstborn.)

Nothing brings you more joy than when you can escape to that little cottage in the Highlands. You never tell anyone besides your children where it is—it’s your escape, your sanctuary. The “somewhere only we know,” as Benedict always called it.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

[acotarfrustrations]

An ongoing list of acowar grievances I'm keeping track of while I read (because there's too many to make a post about all of them)

1) Feyre's constant edginess. It's such a bizarre and ham-fisted shift in the voice of the character from the previous book. Too much tell, not enough show

2) "that they thought Rhysand could ever force someone . . . I added that to the long list of things to repay them for.".........lol OK girl

3) Feyre all of a sudden knowing how to use every power she has despite her very limited "training"

4) constant mention of Lucien and Elain's mating bond. Not only do I not give a damn, I REALLY wish it wasn't a thing all together

5) CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN THE IMPORTANCE OF THE MORTAL QUEENS TO ME? WHO TF EVEN ARE THEY?? It's so stupid that they don't get brought up until feyre is a fae like we have no clue the humans even have an overarching government until she's not human anymore. Why are they turning them Fae? What possible advantages can they grant the fae that they don't have already? How tf are there so many queens when the human territory is so small? For that matter, why tf is Hybern going to war over a tiny handful of humans? Why involve this convoluted plot with turning the mortal queens into Fae when it seems like the humans don't even know of their existence so they wouldn't listen to or follow them in the first place

6) this should be dual pov. I would LOVE tamlin's perspective or even lucien's

7) I need WAY more information about the cauldron because it makes no sense

8) this isn't a gripe but I just have to mention how bad I feel for lucien

9) somehow ianthe became 10x MORE boring as a villain. Like you could replace her woth Regina George and the book would be more interesting

10) WHY IS THERE SO MUCH SEXUAL ASSAULT, OH MY FUCKING GOD

11) this whole spying on the spring court thing is stupid, inefficient, and childish. The NC is risking the lives of all the courts doing this shit when they could easily just ACTUALLY TELL THE OTHER COURTS WHATS GOING ON TO GIVE THEM A CHANCE TO RALLY TOGEYHER AND DEFEND THEMSELVES, form an alliance, and reason with tamlin or attack him if he refuses to listen to reason. Most information they stand to gain from what they're doing is useless in light of how many fae and human lives stand to be lost or displaced

12) WE FUCKING GET IT FEYRE! THERE ARE TWO WOLVES INSIDE YOU! BENEATH YOUR SKIN YOU ARE A WOLF, A MOUNTAIN LION, A PANTHER, A COBRA, A TARANTULA, A BALD EAGLE, AND EVERY OTHER KIND OF PREDATOR UNDER THE SUN!!!!! JFC I GET SYMBOLISM BUT ITS GETTING CRINGE IN HERE

13) that entire ridiculous summer solstice scene in chapter 4

14) FEYRE COMPARING TAMLIN TO ARAMANTHA?! HELLO???????

15) the whole situation with using Lucien to make tamlin jealous is just....icky, idk

16) I almost regret wanting more political intrigue In these novels as it is by far Sarah Janet's weakest suit

17) framing jurian a villain is one of the dumbest decisions ever. Wish he had more screen time though

18) feyre's badass scene w/ the children of the blessed makes me wish that after she became fae, she returned to the human lands, killed/overthrew the mortal queens, said fuck you to tamlin and rhys, and just became queen of the mortal realms, having to earn her people's trust as a fae, protect and defend them, and come to terms w/ her loss of humanity. That would have been so EPIC

19) the entirety of chapter 8

20) the fact that acotar was written. If the series started w/ acomaf I would have a lot less problems. All the constant retconning and inconsistencies in canon and worldbuilding just keep pissing me off, idk I can't look past it

21) I'm losing count and I'm only on chapter 9 so I'm just going to keep reading for now. Might make a part 2 idk

[ezlo-x]

any skall headcanons? idk she’s very silly and i love her design!!!

WDYM HEADCANONS??? SHES MY OC 😭😭😭 I will give u epic factz abt her tho

Skall throughout her time living in the Hebra mountains and food being scarce. She adapted herself eating raw meat, raw fish is her favorite type of meat to eat in the Hebra mountains. Its been a long time since she’s eaten something that is cooked and tasty.

However the Hebra mountains were harsh towards her and she ultimately had to eat Lynel and other monster meat in order to survive.

Even if she was isolated for 10 years in that region, when returning back to the group she was more than happy to socialize. She missed that even though in her younger days she was kept to herself and was pretty quiet.

I guess I’ll also explain the reason why she banished to the Hebra mountains was due to her broken pride (and beak) on failing to get back control of Vah Medoh. It gave her an irrational fear, that if she were to return to Rito Village, she might be pushed to fight Vah Medoh again.

(Pre-calamity) Skall in her younger days had a hard time with the elders as being a Rito Warrior was exclusively a male Rito thing. But when Skall started to transition as a girl she was held back by the Rito Elder, however Revali helped her push through. Skall feels a little adamant as she feels Revali didn’t help her enough to be next Rito Warrior and Champion in line. Revali did push her back a bit, but mostly because Skall was hard headed that her teenage-self was better than the old man Revali. (Wow I wonder where she learned that from <3) Revali just wanted her to grow out of that phase.

(Ok back to Post-Calamity) Skall likes to pester Tarú. At best just make a few snarky comments and in return Tarú just grunts at her.

Skall does her best to protect Nabooru and especially Riju. Skall feels pretty guilty not being there for Nabooru when she gave birth to Riju as Skall promised to her to take care of her. But due to her incident with Vah Medoh she never left the mountains. 10 years later seeing how much Riju has grown she has sword to Nabooru to take care of both of them.

Skall loves that she’s now the mentor and is teaching the kids how to use the bow. Especially with Teba.

[unseelie-robynx]

'Personal Disciple' AU idea

So this is going under a read more because it's long but it's sort of a cracky highjinksy TripSun AU where TLDR: Sanzang grows up thinking that a 'personal disciple' is someone you have what is basically a romantic relationship in all but name He's a sheltered monk baby, I explain in full below and once he picks up SWK he figures that he now has a personal disciple and had better act accordingly.

ok, so I've been listening to the Romance of the Three Kingdoms and now the Water Margin (Classical Chinese epics) and there's this kinda longstanding thing where people make jokes about monks being ah... promiscuous let's say. And then the Water Margin (which deals with more 'common' people than the nobility army politics of Three Kingdoms) has some literary examples, and I got hit with the idea that, once upon a time, a tiny baby monk heard... 'sounds' from another monks room and burst in, thinking they were in trouble or something, only to have an extremely impromptu lesson on... ah... PERSONAL DISCIPLES!!! That's it. And how certain... actions such as kissing, and bare skin contact served to 'strengthen bonds' and 'share spiritual energy' and... stuff. And that it was all TOTALLY normal and most definitely not something the tiny baby (think like, 5 or 6) monk should go tell the abbot about. Please.

And THEN we have a fast forward where said tiny baby monk, seeing as he loves to learn, finds this other monk the next day to ask more about how a relationship with a 'personal disciple' works, because he couldn't find any information on it at the library and wants to be prepared for when he's old enough to have a personal disciple, and the poor older monk is sort of stuck now, because he will be in trouble if he gets called out about this and so he has to actually BS a whole thing about this.

And that possible it's not an isolated incident, and baby (and then slowly less baby) monk accidentally walks in on other moments with 'personal disciples' but 'recognizes' them as such and says so when apologizing, so those monks have a built-in 'alibi' to try and use when tiny Sanzang inevitably shows up looking for more information.

And in this way Sanzang slowly grows this sort of 'understanding' of how to have a good functioning romantic relationship, but also totally not understanding that that's what it is (which, ngl, most of his 'instructors' had kiiiiinda been banking on him hitting puberty and like 'getting' it but nope, the ultimate monk to ever monk was asexual, go figure) because it never occurred to him that a monk might not want to be following their vows to the letter and would do something 'amiss'.

fast forward again, but this time AAAALL the way to a certain monk freeing a certain monkey from a certain mountain. whereupon said monkey tech. becomes his disciple. and this is like different from when Sanzang was just teaching and mentoring other monks, and the one thing Sanzang never really got answers on was how one gets a 'personal disciple' but he's pretty sure that this situation, you know, qualifies.

so one of the first things that Sanzang does, (after freaking out about the tiger that just got turned into a meat patty and then skinned), is to insist that he and SWK find a river, where he then proceeds to just... casually strip down and pull SWK into the water so he can begin working out all of the dirt and grime and blood, but he's trying really hard not to think about that from SWK's fur.

Because for Sanzang that seems like the correct thing to DO with his new personal disciple. Washing one another was one of the things that you just did with teacher and personal discipline, and the act of caring for one another was a way to strengthen connections so that ‘spiritual energy transfers’ went smoother. and, maybe also because SWK really was something of a mess after being under the mountain for so long, and if they were going to be sharing a tent and engaging in all of those bonding and teaching activities, then SWK would really rather his disciple be clean But for SWK, this is like, he’s suddenly getting groomed after almost 600 years of isolation. And it’s… a lot. But it also feels good and he doesn’t want it to stop either. So he just sort of… lets it happen, even if he’s really confused. And it makes him like this monk more, even if he won't admit it. Grooming is an important thing, and most monkies don’t clean themselves. It’s a symbol of acceptance and closeness, and Sanzang is accidentally ‘claiming’ SWK into his ‘troupe’ with this, even though he doesn’t realize the importance of it or see it as that sort of action. Because of this, they don’t get on the road again until the next day (because 500+ years of dirt take time to work out with just your fingers) and they get Sanzang’s small tent set up, and SWK is kinda grumbling about there not being one for him,, but also kinda not caring because, you know, Monkey, and sleeping outside isn’t a big deal, when Sanzang looks at him all confused and asks why he isn’t coming inside the tent with him. And at first SWK just thinks that maybe the monk is worried about being attacked at night or something, but Sanzng just, you know, strips again (because that skin contact thing and his accidental walk-ins on people didn’t exactly have them with clothes on in bed) and lays down and beckons for SWK to join him and… well… (Again, accidentally a monkey thing. Sleeping together for warmth is a thing and it’s odd to find a monkey alone at night. It’s another thing with acceptance and Sanzang is once again accidentally pulling SWK in) SWK eventually does (though Sanzang, remembering his ‘instructions’ and how things are meant to ‘build slowly’ and he’s nervous as all heck and on edge about HAVING a personal disciple and how to do this, so he’s MORE than willing to ‘take things slow really only just sort of cuddles with SWK that night) and Sanzang managed to get him to talk a little bit about himself, (gets some of the backstory early and such) Thus it’s not until the next day that they get assaulted by the five senses bandits, and SWK kills them and then the fight/SWK takes off and gets magic torture headband. Except, once Sanzang sees that this thing hurts SWK, he stops reciting and comes over and kisses SWK’s forehead for a moment and sort of trades off doing that and reciting until he’d finished. And then once he’s done, he kisses SWK properly.

Because one of his ‘instructors’ had…kinks personal preferences. About things. And so there was a hasty lesson about how ‘sometimes discipline is necessary’ but also how ‘affection after the punishment serves to help heal it and make it feel good into a positive and enriching experience’. And so now Sanzang’s got this all ‘worked out’ in his head with the idea of like, so he needs to discipline SWK to help him onto the correct path and to stop the murders and stuff, but he will comfort and share his chi/spiritual energies with Sanzang through the process to help make it more bearable and to show SWK that he does still believe in him, and then after he will share more to help sooth out the lingering pain and such.

(Granted, he’s not sure how well he did at sharing his energy, as he’d never done it before (it was both of their first kiss, fyi) but he remembers that that sort of thing is meant to become stronger and easier the longer a master and personal disciple spend together, and it has only been a day. They’ll both get better at it)

But poor SWK is over here like… the HELL is going on!?!?!

The book says it was like a couple of months before they ran into Ao Lie, so that’s plenty of time for SWK to sort of get answers on just what Sanzang thinks is going on out of him, usually in the evening when they’re cuddled up in bed and Sanzang is slowly starting to explore the whole ‘energy sharing through touch’ thing. So SWK learns about the whole ‘personal disciple’ thing, and unlike Sanzang does get what was actually going on (because Sanzang was a sheltered baby but SWK was not and did help with births every spring and whatnot) but he… well he likes the attention. Likes being close to someone at night, and the grooming/baths/whatever, and even if he argues with the stupid monk about being able to actually protect him like he’s supposedly meant to, Sanzang IS starting to respect and care for his monk (though if you ask him he will be adamant about how it is entirely against his will that this is happening).

So he doesn’t like, correct Sanzang about the whole ‘personal disciple’ thing, even if he’s fairly certain that it’s not actually a thing (And he justifies it with the fact that it’s not like He’s really a monk, or Buddhist, so maybe it is a thing. Who is he to say?) He does make Sanzang promise that SWK will be his only ‘personal disciple’ though, because he doesn't want anyone else taking advantage of his the monk, so there’s that.