#if you use the angle of them being young and full of potential

[ace-and-ranty]

I think love at first sight stories could do well to focus on the potential love story.

It’s hard to treat love at first sight with the same seriousness we take established love. And it’s true, love that is blooming is not the same thing as love that has taken root.

But love at first sight has something established love doesn’t have, which is potential. You don’t know this person yet, you don’t know what the two of you will be, but you want to. That giddy excitement to get to know a person, that looking forward to what you could be, that initial desperate want to be with them all the time... that is prime story writing material. And loosing it can hurt just as terribly, because rather than loosing what you already had, you’re loosing your dreams of what could be.

I think that’s a great angle that not many stories hit right.

[mistywaves98]

Can I... Can I req for Widow! Reader who's trying dick for the first time after a while and it's Neighbor! Scara... Who's absolutely obsessed with reader ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠���⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄ thank u

– 🦭

Now this has potential... Hope you all didn't mind me making it with milf! Reader 😶‍🌫️

✧･ﾟ:* ->Neighbour! Scaramouche x Milf! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Age gap (Scara is in his late 20s while reader is in her 30s-40s), Talks abt Breeding, Petnames, Breeding kink, Did I mention breeding?

After your husband died, you never really had time to seek companionship and intimacy elsewhere. Being a single mom with two children to raise kept your hands full. Luckily you had very supportive family and neighbours who helped you through tough times. Of those people happened to be your eager, next door neighbour, Scaramouche.

He was especially helpful, sticking around a lot to help you with household chores as well as your kids. It was like he was your new husband, he joked occasionally and you found it rather humorous too, but you didn't really think much of it considering the age difference between you two. Now your children are grown and have jobs that keep them busy, meaning that you're usually left alone at home. It was a peaceful break, but you couldn't deny that it was lonely sometimes.

To your surprise, Scaramouche still frequents your abode and even revealed to you that he doesn't have a significant other yet. It shocked you even more, considering that you imagined a handsome young man like himself would have ladies flocking him and that's what you told him. He merely laughed and said that the reason he's still single is because there's this one particular woman he's been eyeing for a while. This made you curious so you inquired about her identity, which made him smirk in a slightly eerie way as he walked up to you and leaned down to whisper into your ear,"It's you."

One thing lead to another and the next thing you know you're both buried amongst the covers of your bed, with you getting your ass plowed into next week. Moans and soft pleas fall from your lips as you desperately grasp the pillow which half your face is buried in. Scaramouche keeps a firm grip on your hips, angling them up so that he can stuff his cock into your at a frantic pace. You can feel his balls slapping against your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back as you wail.

It all feels so, so good. Your mind is a hazy mess with only thoughts of him and his fat fucking dick. Every time his tip meets that spongy spot inside of you, you feel like you're seeing stars as drool runs down your chin. When was the last time you ever got your guts rearranged like this? In fact, when was the last time you even felt the touch of a man?? Those questions were swept away in the flurry of pleasure brought by Scaramouche's cock sliding in and out of your pussy with a wet squelch, your body rocking back and forth with the force.

He relished the sight under him, your sweaty body splayed out so prettily for him as he brought you to new heights. "Damn... You're so fucking tight for someone who's already had children.. When last has this pussy been used? 'Cuz it's sucking in my cock like it never wants to let it go, honey..." He grinned as you responded with nothing but incoherent babbles, too dumbed down to even form a proper sentence.

Scaramouche brought one of his hands down to grab your breast, fondling the mound and squeezing before tweaking your nipple between the pads of his thumb and index. That action elicits a hiss out of him as he feels you clench down harder around him, making him let out a breathy chuckle,"Haah... You liked that, didn't you? ...What if I gave you another child, huh? —Fuck—! Seems like you enjoy the thought, letting me fuck another baby into you..."

He'd be lying if he said the thought wasn't enticing, getting to raise a child with you that's his own... It was something he'd been dreaming of for the longest while. You weren't sure if you could still have children, but Scaramouche would at least attempt to make it happen. Even if it meant pumping you full of his cum till your belly bloats from the amount he's emptied into you. It drives him to go a bit faster, his cock reaching deep as your walls spasm around him.

Suddenly you mumble something and he has to strain his ears to hear it amongst all the other 'noises',"—um... Cu—mming...!!" His pupils dilate as he hears that, eager to feel you gush around his cock. The hand kneading your breast moves down to pinch your clit, the other keeping a death grip on your hip. The sensation sends a jolt up your body, a groan escaping you as you cum. The feeling of your pussy creaming around his dick makes Scaramouche curse as he feels his own orgasm washing over him.

His hands give your breasts one final squeeze as he cums inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. After giving his cock a couple thrusts for good measure, he finally pulls out with a wet sound before laying next to you. He holds you close, wrapping an arm around your trembling body as he buries his face in your neck. You can feel his cum trickle down your thighs, soiling the bedsheets and Scaramouche notices it too.

He's quick to plug up your swollen pussy with two fingers, making you inhale sharply as his fingers push his essence back in. Not much words are exchanged, the both of you being too spent to say much, but one thing's for sure... He really hopes you get pregnant.

[authorhjk1]

Decisions, decisions, decisions…its so hard to choose which one for Sooyoung lol, I leave this in your hands dear writer-nim.

https://kpopping.com/documents/79/3/2000/Choi-Sooyoung-for-LEGEND-Magazine-November-2022-Issue-documents-11.jpeg?v=9cf9e

https://kpopping.com/documents/6e/5/3024/220808-SNSD-Twitter-Update-Sooyoung-documents-2.jpeg?v=3942e

Black Leather

(Choi Sooyoung X Male Reader)

You were surprised. It wasn't shocking, but it was certainly unexpected.

Six months ago you fired one of your employees. A great, nice guy. He was great to work with. But he was just not good at working. And while your business started to thrive, there was always one factor that hindered it from reaching it's full potential. Him.

That's why you eventually had to let him go. And that's why his wife showed up at your doorstep the night after. She wore a long brown coat and a pair of black heels. Nothing more. Her offer was simple. Put her husband back into the position you just fired him from. Your reward? Sex. Whenever you want.

It was an offer you couldn't refuse. Especially when the young woman unbuttoned her coat without a word, after she offered you her deal. Since then, you've been fucking Choi Sooyoung, whenever you had the time to do so.

After a while, you started to lean into her deal more and more. You're now at a point at which you can tell her what to wear, whenever the two of you meet.

Just like right now. But you aren't at home. Or at an hotel. You're at the year-end party of your company. At least you were, until five minutes ago.

"I look like a slut in this."

You break your kiss with Sooyoung to answer her.

"That's why I told you to wear it."

You turn her around, pressing her face against the closed door of the small office you're in. Her husband's office.

You kiss her left shoulder, before you start to make your way to the other side. Not leaving an inch of her skin untouched, you enjoy her beauty. Your hands reach around her and you place them on Sooyoung's chest. Groping and kissing her turns the young woman into a hot mess. She loves it when you take you time. When you just enjoy her body. As if it belongs to you. How her smooth skin glistens in the dim light that shines in from outside. How her chest heaves, when you push the leather off her body. How you take a deep breath, inhaling her sweet scent, while you kiss her neck.

The fact that she shouldn't be doing this, the fact that she shouldn't be enjoying this....

It turns her on even more. How you're so different to her husband in every way.

Sooyoung's dress is lying on the floor by now. Her high heels and her necklace are the only things that keep her from being entirely naked. You bend her over her husband's desk.

While you take off your pants, you admire the sight of her tits, pressed against the wooden surface, while her ass looks just perfect. Her heels make it so it's at the exactly right angle for you.

There's no need or time for something as simple as a blowjob. She gave you one earlier at the party anyway.

Your name leaves her lips as you penetrate her pussy. Your thrusts are slow at first. But they soon quicken as you get consumed by her beauty. This always happens to you. Her body and the fact that this shouldn't happen at all makes you want it even more.

Her moans become louder. Sooyoung's nails scratch on the surface. Will her husband find them tomorrow? You don't care. His wife is the one that has all your attention right now. His wife and her pussy.

You grab a fistful of her hair with one hand, while the other squeezes one of her delicious ass cheeks. Using her for your own pleasure has her moaning and gasping.

Soon, Sooyoung has become you personal cum dump. Once again you've painted her pussy with your load. She lies atop your desk, still breathing heavily from the pounding she just took.

You fall back into her husband's chair. Sooyoung soon peels herself off the desk, before dropping to her knees in front of you. As always, she starts to clean your cock of her juices and some of your leftover cum. Most of it is dripping out of her pussy right now.

As Sooyoung cleans your cock with expertise, you're looking down on her. Locking eyes with her makes you want to ruin her again.

"I already know, what you're wearing next time."

-------------

Hi, everyone!

I hope you enjoyed reading this. I honestly have to say that I was considering on rewriting this, because I feel like I couldn't use it's full potential. But due to studying a lot right now, I don't have the time or energy to rewrite this, so I hope you can still have fun reading it.

Stay healthy!

[buckybarnesss]

The reasons I get irritated by Peter and Jennifer using Derek's trauma against him are twofold.

Peter's tales are taken as absolute truth by people, and there's this reoccurring thought that Derek ask for Paige to be bitten. Peter attempts to use Derek's trauma (that Peter himself caused!) as a way to cause Cora and Stiles to lose faith in Derek.

Jennifer throws what she really looks like in Derek's face, accusing him of potentially being shallow after she RAPED HIM. She wielded his trauma like a weapon against him in order to manipulate him, and then tried to insinuate that he was in the wrong for not wanting to fuck a cenobite.

It's very interesting that the nogitsune is aware of how Derek feels for Stiles and vice versa, and comes to the same conclusion as Jennifer: Derek is a useful protector. However, the nogitsune is smart enough not to try to seduce Derek. He just pretends to be Stiles, knowing that being in possession of Stiles' mind and body is enough to effectively leash Derek.

the more i watch visionary the more i've decided that it's not so much the episode itself i had so much beef with but more fandom's reaction to it. the episode makes it pretty clear that the whole narrative conceit is that peter and gerard are manipulators and liars. they are not telling the full truth.

scott and allison are openly scornful of gerard and scott threatens him at the end. stiles explicitly tells cora that peter's told them a story.

yet fandom continues to cite peter's rendition of what happened with paige as gospel. like, yes, peter can tell the truth and does so frequently but he does so in a manner than benefits him. you often have to peel back the layers to see what peter's intentions are when he offers his help. there's usually a price of some kind. peter is a lot of things and not a single one of them is altruistic.

someone once argued with me saying peter wasn't angling for derek to give up his alpha power. i'm sorry the same dude who melodramatically was screaming about always being the alpha at the close of the season? that guy?

tell me this is not the face of a man who knows he's got his quarry on the hook. peter's always manipulating derek to some extent. it's his main hobby.

peter had an intention in telling the paige story to stiles but also in how he told it and the content of the story. he told it to stiles knowing that stiles feels a certain kind of way about derek. he tees up the story by comparing young derek to stiles's bff scott. he minimizes his presence and manipulations in what happened to paige and than closes with saying that blue eyes are an indication of killing an innocent.

he wanted to manipulate stiles's perception of derek. cora was just a bonus.

jennifer has an interesting view of derek. she definitely sees him as her savior due to him sacrificing paige which gave the nemeton enough power to sustain her life when kali almost killed her but he is also a tool. it's all conditional and all about how it benefits her the same as peter.

jennifer uses the memory of paige and derek's affection for stiles as a weapon against him. she perverts his love for them. kate did something similar in preying upon derek's grief for paige to sink her claws into him.

she uses her own victimhood to minimize her own victimization of him. she crocodile tears at him weaponizing what happened to her to manipulate him. she drops that façade quickly when it wasn't working as planned.

the thing that got him to not kill her once it was revealed who she really was? the location of stiles's father and her holding cora's life above his head.

both peter and jennifer are master manipulators and co-opt derek's traumas for their own nefarious purposes.

is it a wonder why derek guards his heart so closely? why he doesn't think he's good for people? with people like this constantly using him for their ends and manipulating him with his own heart?

the nogitsune is interesting because it doesn't even really bother with derek all that much. it wants him out of the way more than anything to the point of giving derek little distractions and than uses him as a protector when necessary.

the nogitsune was there in the cellar when derek mercy killed paige so i do wonder if it was aware while it was trapped in that jar.

it's possible that it could gain more glee from knowing how easily it leashed derek by simply possessing stiles and being aware of the distress it would cause stiles to force derek into a position of having to mercy kill another person he cared about. i would bet it had this as a contingency or a possible play if necessary.

the nogitsune fed off chaos, strife and pain. it clearly didn't have to be physical. it likes it's psychological warfare and it was playing with scott, lydia, allison and kira for all they were worth.

derek hale was probably reserved for dessert tbh. all that pain and trauma probably looked like an after dinner mint to it.

[thessalian]

This article hurts me for a lot of reasons and in a lot of ways.

The first and foremost of these is the number of friends I have in the US. What happens to them if the worst happens? They go through this? I cannot fucking stand the thought.

Which honestly brings me to the second reason: I know. I know how much delays can mean the difference between life and death. I've been through patients' healthcare journeys in terms of cancer from every conceivable angle. From initial diagnosis (diagnostic imaging and a couple of specialist departments taking a first macroscopic look at an issue) to specific diagnosis (what I'm currently doing - "let's put this tissue under a microscope to see what the cells are doing") to treatment - curative and palliative. I've seen it, and I've helped move patients through it. I've been the one trying to find them the earliest possible appointment. I've been the one flagging up the urgent cases. I've been the one making sure doctors sign off patients' treatment. And that has not always been easy.

The first example is my interview story - the one I always tell when a potential employer asks me for an example of having gone above and beyond. We had a registrar who was going into research and saw no real urgency with patient care. Wouldn't carry a pager, didn't clear the messages off his voicemail so his voicemail box was full, and I once had to physically track him down with the patient file and chemotherapy prescription letter that he'd spent weeks avoiding, because the patient in question only had a few months to live with the recommended palliative treatment and time was running out. That patient's "few months" turned into something like two weeks, even when I got the chemotherapy booked, because that jackass didn't put his signature on one damn document.

Additionally, awhile back I worked in a private clinic which did what was then a fairly new treatment for brain tumours - something called gamma knife, which was a sort of radiotherapy that focused multiple beams of radiation that on their own would not damage tissue onto a single point - the tumour - with the combined beams destroying the malignant cells. This treatment was too new to be on the NHS, but NHS oncologists would send some patients to us for this treatment - assuming the NHS finance bods approved it. But much like with US health insurers, the NHS finance bods would often deny the patient treatment because they didn't want to pay the private practice for it, despite it being something that would literally save their lives. They had this whole criteria about things like, "Would they have sufficient improvement of quality of life for long enough to make this worth our money?" and, worst of all, "Are they strong enough to survive a different, more harmful, but overall cheaper treatment?" - even if that treatment would not be as effective. We appealed everything, obviously, and thankfully most of those appeals got the patient their approval, but that's time someone with a fucking brain tumour cannot afford. Not to mention ... do you know what it feels like to look at a file on an eighteen-year-old girl with a brain tumour and see a NHS letter effectively saying, "She's young, she's strong, she can survive chemotherapy; we'd prefer stick with that even if it'll mean poisoning her regularly for less effect than the treatment we're trying to deny"?

Finally ... this is why I do what I do. Why I work so hard. Why I was never comfortable the few times I worked in the private sector on non-healthcare stuff. I can't do much from the position I hold, but by the gods, I can make sure the paperwork gets to the right people in a timely manner. Shaving even a day or two off someone's journey to treatment could mean everything. And from that position? The US healthcare system sickens me in ways I cannot explain because there aren't the words. Because I know how many times the answer to the question "Would he have lived?" is "yes". I cannot stand the thought that these assholes are willing to let that many people suffer and / or die for their own profit margins.

[ronmanmob]

(a very late meme submission - for the fix-it verse) 

Therapy hadn’t been going well. The shrink was nice enough, the bills being picked up by various charities established to fund those who had survived the attack. There was just only so often Tabby could hear about having to take care of emotional scars as well as the physical ones. She didn’t want to talk about how half of the mirror in her bathroom was now covered with painters tape, ensuring no matter the angle, she could only see herself from the ribs up.

“I think you're probably the only one who understands me.” Tabby sprawled over Ron’s couch, staring up at the ceiling. She hadn’t even clocked how she was in a proper Freudian patient pose. “Or, y’know, gets it since you were there.” Ron was truly the sole person she could be normal around. Or, at least, her new normal. He didn’t keep asking if she was okay, impatient for her sunshine demeanor to return in full force. Ron understood why she was now nervous in crowded spaces. Why men of a certain build and height made her twitchy. And most of all, he never every judged. 

--you were there-

Standing at his kitchen-island, their preferred drinks to hand and just waiting to be conveyed to She of the Settee, Ron tensed against a wince so sharply his shoulders shifted for the effort. He wasn't facing Tabs just now, and while usually he'd not even consider the need to hide his expressions from anyone, in this moment he was glad she had his back. No part of the flat affect that blunted his ways and means could've touched the fixed, thousand yard glare that'd come storm-cloud-like at her mention of there - that packed out plaza where, through some accident of fate, his pixie-dressed-best-girl had wound up dying in his arms.

Twice.

They'd bought her back of course, the paramedics; they'd fought like lions for her and won but that didn't stop the truth of things being that. He'd watched life leave her eyes while he pressed his whole weight through his hands onto the wound in her guts to try and keep her together. He'd watched that twice and had still barely processed it; still lurched awake in a cold sweat, diving for his phone to double check. Triple check. That she was still with him.

His therapist told him it was as natural a trauma response as ever you'd see, not least in someone with his very specific set'a wiring. But that was all she saw of its effect on him. She'd never met the demon that lived behind his staring eyes; the one that'd ruled London and knew, to avoid a trace off bullets, to use ice in place of buckshot when hunting one very specific sort'a game.

"--I do undastand-"

The words sounded strained round their edges, like they'd been dredging up from somewhere deep and needed sound forced on them to make them hearable. Inch by inch, second by second, Ron wrenched himself back into the room. The drinks in his hands came back into his awareness, likewise the low light, the quiet music, the young lass on his couch and everything that she meant to him and as it did, as she did, the demon receded. And her Ron came back.

Like a clockwork toy coming back to life, Ron deserted the kitchen-island and made his way over to Tabby. He set their drinks on the coffee table by the settee and then settled beside it, his shoulder within easy reach of Tab's nearest hand should she want the contact. Nothing in him made the comparison in the moment, but this was a Claude the Mastiff move he was making; giving his person space and nearness at once; support and presence without the overwhelm-potential touch could bring on in delicate times.

There was a debt owed him by the cunt who'd gutted her, and that'd be collected on. It'd be paid. But Tabs didn't need the demon in him now. He had better for her, truth for her, and he spoke it plain and with much more ease than he had when first his voice had come back to him.

"-N I luv yah girl."

[bathroomcorpse]

we were doing these in a discord server im in and i was Compelled to make the twins. explanation/description under the cut

auggie color: the color of a bruise. specifically the yellow stage but i couldn't find a good swatch that really captured the sort of sickly yellow/green/grey that happens. flora: a common weed. he's kind of a dime a dozen Problem. fauna: rabbit. definitely a prey animal, definitely cute at some angles but also evil at others. skittish and odd. object: an ashtray. i mean this in a jokey 'put your cigarettes out on me' way but also in the sense that auggie is kind of the receptacle for other people's issues. edmund feels the pressure of his manufactured life, he takes it out on auggie. cecilia feels shackled by the life she's made for herself, she takes it out on auggie. elias feels whatever weirdo emotions elias feels? takes that out on auggie. and elias also literally puts cigarettes out on him but that's neither here nor there. song: no care by daughter. technically i have a whole auggie playlist so call me later and i'll probably have changed my mind but that's where i'm going rn feeling: nausea. auggie is so deeply associated with vomit to me i don't even really know why but i think auggie and i think nausea i think weird feeling in your throat i think puke i think puke taste in mouth. he's a sick lil guy! margot color: very specific but molding/faded/decaying pink wallpaper flora: azaleas. beautiful but poisonous fauna: monarch butterfly for the same reason! object: a pair of rusty scissors. once useful but the use has decayed away with time and lack of care. a sharp edge. potential for harm but probably not used for that. even when they're being used for their intended purpose, there is always a risk of them hurting you. margot was used like a doll by her mother but as she grew up she became less and less of a puppet cecilia could do whatever with. truly, even at a young age margot always had a nasty streak in her. always a risk of her lashing out. song: now you're gonna get it by the paper chase. i also have a margot playlist so yknow could change my mind here too feeling: dysmorphia. margot truly doesn't feel like she clicks together into one full person. it's part of why she's so obsessed with being a twin. it kind of absolves her of having to be Margot because she can always also be auggie and auggie can also be her and they can share the burden of Being. also when your entire existence is based on your appearance when you're a child you develop Issues.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Do you see Valtor as someone capable of violence/abuse/SA of children? (Or teens?)

Like I guess violence is an obvious yes since the Winx were like 16/17 at the time of his breakout. (But then again i think Italy is a place where those ages are considered adult... So....)

And what of incest? I mean so many speculate about Darcy being his kid and he seemed ok/indifferent/ slightly flirty with her (and Icy and stormy). I just... I guess I'm trying to figure out how evil I could make him while still being believable. Even though so much is subtext and others interpretation.

But it's like that meme of "as a fanfic writer he just would NEVER" thing that I'm trying to figure out.

Just curious of your thoughts.

Hi, anon! That's a very complex question with a lot of angles and I'll try to tackle it systematically and analytically based on what we've seen in canon.

First of all, TW for abuse/murder, sexual assault and incest for the rest of this discussion to anyone reading.

I just want to correct the common misconception that the Winx are 17 during season 3. We know that Bloom is at least 16 in 1x01 because she thought her parents had bought her a scooter and you need to be 16 to drive one in both America and Europe (no one will convince me that Bloom isn't Italian but in this case the same rules apply even if you believe she's American). Her birthday is during December so she turned 17 during season 1 and 18 during season 2 or shortly after (if 2x26 takes place between 31st October (aka Halloween aka 2x16) and 10 December (aka Bloom's birthday)). So by the time they start fighting Valtor, she's almost 19, which is still a teen but she's not 17. We can assume Flora, Musa and Tecna are her age because we're not given any reason not to. Stella is one year older because she's repeating her first year at Alfea and if we assume the school year there works like it does on Earth, by the time they actually start engaging Valtor in fights, Stella is already 20 (born on 18 August). We don't know how old Layla is because she wasn't going to Alfea in season 1 but I like to think she's Stella's age as well.

That said, I don't think Valtor would bat an eye about fighting, maiming and killing children or teenagers of various ages. We know he blinded Layla and tried to kill the Winx many times. He zombified the witches and kidnapped the Specialists. He sent the elements to Alfea, CT, RF and last but not least - Magix City, which would be full of children from newborns to those in their late teens.

The last one is a little different from killing them himself with his own hands (or well, magic) but I don't think that someone's young age would deter him from using violence if he deems it necessary. It's just that babies and small children would be no threat to him so I can't see him wasting time and effort on that just to be cruel, only if it serves a higher, actual purpose. For comparison, the Ancestral Witches wanted to kill Bloom (and Daphne) while she was still a baby because they perceived her as a potential future threat (and to get the Dragon Fire, too) while Valtor was so sure of his victory and wanted it to be as grand as possible that he saved Bloom's life (3x05).

Based on that, I'd say that he wouldn't kill any inconsequential person at all regardless of their age just for the sake of killing or being cruel. However, he's not bothered by the morality (or lack of such) of killing children as proven by his attacks to the Magix City area (which was probably meant more as a distraction/bait) and his indifference towards Andros collapsing where there would have been numerous casualties, many of which babies and children.

I can see him threatening/killing children as motivation for anyone loving the child to do something or for the sake of inflicting pain on an enemy - similarly to what he did with Sky to hurt Bloom. But that would be only if he can be bothered to consider the person caring for the child worthwhile as an enemy/obstacle. Not to imply that he's not partial to cruelty because he does revel in the devastation of his actions but that's more so a side dish rather than a purpose in and of itself. Basically, he'll commit atrocities out of strategy and then relish the resulting misery even if causing that weren't his actual goal.

Now going back to the Diaspro and Sky situation (which has some of the worst unfortunate implications) to answer about sexual assault...

I think we can all agree that the love potion that Valtor gave Diaspro was shown to remove any notion of consent from the equation. Sky was a mindless pet following every order and considering that he was to be married to Diaspro, that would have gone into sexual assault territory if the potion were to stay in place for the rest of his life.

Still, I think that here applies a similar principle as with inflicting physical harm. Valtor would be completely disengaged from the question of morality here and would not care if anyone acting towards his cause was crossing the line of sexual assault. We have proof in both the Diaspro situation and the one with Cassandra and Radius, who may have intended to marry her but being spelled certainly took away his ability to consent. However, both of these serve a strategical purpose and the big difference is that Valtor is never shown to care about the consequences to Sky and Radius. These were actions meant to strengthen him and weaken the Winx. That's what he might have enjoyed about it. I don't think the horror of what Sky and Radius might feel about being forced to marry and possibly have sex without their consent even registered for him and if it did, he absolutely did not pay any mind to it like one doesn't pay any mind to bugs on the ground. So I don't think that he finds anything in that particular kind of cruelty other than pure strategy. Not like he does in actually causing destruction and death.

He himself would not commit sexual assault out of sheer ego imo because why would he need to force someone when he could just charm them into sleeping with him? So on that account his respect for consent is somewhat incidental as an expression of his pride and superiority.

As for incest... No.

The show never makes it clear if Valtor is aware that the Trix are descended from the Ancestral Witches, which would make them magically related. On the one hand, it'd be stupid of him not to be because how much more obvious can it get, especially for the one person that knew the Ancestral Witches best? But on the other hand, his absolute lack of reaction to that in contrast with how panicked he was in the presence of the Witches was a disappointment. Sure, the Trix aren't the Ancestrals but they are kind of proof that he'll never be free of the Ancestrals so... He should have been mega uncomfortable around them. In light of that, I like to believe that he was subconsciously refusing to acknowledge who they are and he was using their attraction to him as a divide and conquer to protect himself and keep them weak.

In my personal headcanons (which is all they are) where Darcy is his daughter, neither of them is aware of that while they're on the same side. Which does not remove the ick factor of the canon situation but Valtor was never interested in any of the Trix and just manipulating them. And I don't think that they were actually that interested in him sexually as much as it was a contest of who can earn his attention to prove that they are powerful and capable enough to earn the admiration of someone as powerful as him.

I think that if he learned he had a child, he'd be focused on molding them magically and mentally and just would not view them as a sexual object. More like a creation, another one of his plans that needs careful guidance to unfold its full potential.

[bentley-hurst-estate-agents]

How to Prepare Your Property for Rent in Manchester

As a landlord, preparing your home for the rental market is crucial to attracting tenants and maximizing your rental income. From inspections and maintenance to legal compliance and insurance, let’s take a look at how you can make sure your property is ready for a new tenancy.

Inspect the Property

Firstly, you should inspect your property and take note of any areas that require attention or repairs. By taking care of these issues in good time, you can present a well-maintained property to potential tenants, increasing the likelihood of securing tenants. This will also reduce the chances of maintenance issues further down the line, which will reduce your expenses throughout the tenancy period.

Present the Property

Presenting your property well significantly increases its attractiveness to potential tenants, as it showcases your commitment to providing a comfortable and well-maintained living space. You should begin by cleaning and decluttering the space to create a welcoming environment, before staging the property with attractive décor to highlight its full potential. Make sure to capture high-quality photographs to showcase its best angles and features in rental listings.

Decide Between Furnished and Unfurnished

Deciding between offering a furnished or unfurnished rental property in Manchester is a crucial consideration when preparing it for the market. Furnished rentals appeal to tenants seeking convenience and immediate occupancy, as they come equipped with essential furniture and amenities. This option can command higher rental rates and attract short-term tenants, such as students and young professionals. On the other hand, unfurnished rentals provide tenants with the flexibility to personalize the space according to their needs and preferences. These properties tend to appeal to long-term tenants looking for a more permanent living situation and often cost landlords less time and money. Ultimately, the decision depends on factors such as your target market, the property’s location, and local market conditions.

Prepare an Inventory

Preparing an inventory is crucial as it reduces the likelihood of disputes arising over damages or missing items during a tenancy. You should document every item included in the property, from fixtures and fittings to appliances and decorations. It’s important to take detailed notes and photographs that accurately show the condition of the property. This will not only protect your investment but also provide peace of mind and establish clear expectations and understanding between you and your tenant.

Make Sure You’re Fully Covered

You should ensure you have adequate landlord insurance coverage to protect your investment against potential risks. Landlord insurance typically provides coverage for property damage, liability protection, loss of rental income, and legal expenses. Without the appropriate insurance coverage, you could face significant financial loss in the event of accidents, property damage, or tenant-related issues.

Adhere to Safety Regulations

Adhering to safety regulations is paramount when preparing a property for the rental market, as it not only ensures the well-being of tenants but also protects you from potential liabilities. By meticulously following safety guidelines and regulations, such as installing smoke detectors, carbon monoxide detectors, and fire extinguishers, you can demonstrate your commitment to providing a secure living environment.

Use a Letting Agent

Using a letting agent to prepare your property for rent in Manchester can significantly streamline the process and enhance your return on investment. Letting agents possess extensive knowledge of the local rental market, allowing them to advise you on setting an optimal rental price and attracting suitable tenants. They handle tasks such as marketing, tenant screening, property viewings, and tenancy agreement drafting, saving you valuable time and effort. Letting agents also have access to professional networks and resources, enabling them to efficiently address any maintenance or repair needs and ensure that your property complies with legal requirements. By entrusting the preparation of your property to a letting agent, you can benefit from their expertise and industry insights, ultimately maximizing your rental income while minimizing potential issues and risks.

[jaceastrology]

Reading the date the business began and the owner's chart.

This business is all about being authentic and not letting rules, or expectations rule over them. There is a lot of Aquarius/Uranus influence as well as Leo/Sun Angle Degrees. They will be successful when their business is young. A leader who prefers public careers, was in the owner's chart, which makes sense considering they're a consulting business. It will be longstanding and have unusual luck at being in the right place at the right time to meet clients.

Multiple aspects connect to the part of Fortune in the business, showing that the qualities it has will lead to reaching the full potential. The owner shares an interesting connection to the business. Both have Gemini Vertex in the 8th. The Vertex is all about karmic connections and 8th house is Transformation. The owner's destiny was to create this business. It is also during a waxing moon, it is perfect for new beginnings. During a Scorpio Rising, so this business is all about improving and changing with the times. Adaptability is good for a business because, trends change. If you move with the water, not against it you're likely to get farther in life. Due to Gemini a joint partnership, or shared finances will be successful.

Both the owner and the business share a Leo/MC at different angles. Leadership, confidence, ease of persuasion and charming clients will come naturally. Lilith in 11th house shows a Lilith-figure in friendships. Lilith is brave and bold, speaking out against injustice, radical opinions/statements. Some statements may even be dangerous. It doesn't matter if, there's consequences for speaking up, this business believes in saying what must be said.

All across this chart, destiny calls to the owner and others who may be employees in the future. They are destined to bring balance, a better path to life and others. If, you are lost...come find me. Is the message from the business. Libra is a very strong sign in this chart suggesting balance. People who struggle with negatives will find the courage and guidance to turn into positives. Libra in the 11th also, suggests strong partnerships in the future. Mars is pushing both the owner and business to gain knowledge/bring change.

There are many supportive aspects in Mars/Aries and Libra. They support and give tremendous energy to the cause. Only propelling the business further into success. Smooth talking, growing to learn the right things to say are a big lesson for this business. The owner who has Mercury 12th and a Grand Trine in communication shows this is a karmic lesson shared by both. They may have a hard time attracting business but, once they do their charm comes to the surface. A dreamy, compassionate voice. Drawing in anyone who needs love and support.

This business has empty houses. Empty houses are places where no effort is needed. Easy confidence, stable cash flow. Not motivated by job, status, or money. The business and owner don't want to be rich, be seen by the world and don't work for the sake of working. Their goal is to help others who are lost, faced trauma/insecurities who need help in this life.

Aquarius Pluto at 1° propelled by Aries/Mars angle. Is a very powerful influence. Change must be made at all costs. The owner & business make complex ideas into easy statements. A gift at all the hard things in life.

Aquarius Mars in the 4th. The drive for this career comes from the need to support the family. They have an unusual family dynamic. This owner chose to be a single Mom by choice, leaving them the sole supporter of their child. Mars Square Uranus. The business is structured around family. Due to having a young child they stick to writing over speaking on the phone/in person.

Sun Conjunct Lilith. Aries Moon 17° in 6th House Trine Midheaven Leo 15° in 10th House.

This business has the gifts of magic it can be used for good and evil. Being a business of occult, these gifts have insight into what others are thinking, what they mean hidden in their words. Provides extra skill in reading others needs. Aries Chiron 17° in 6th House: Natural healer, intuition.

[axvwriter]

Solace's Character Intro

Solace is a Moon Fae. Moon Fae's are a rare race of monster that is slowly dying out. Moon Fae's possess one of the strongest healing magic in the world. They also wield some minor illusion magic, but this magic is easily shattered. Touching it and even looking at it at certain angles can disrupt such spells.

With their healing magic, they can recreate entire limbs and organs. Due to such magic, some may believe that Moon Faes can survive even the most brutal of injuries. This is not true as the more severe the damage, the more magic it takes. Moon Faes aren't able to tell when they're using too magic which can be very detrimental to their health. So overusing their magic trying to heal severe injuries along with shock will kill them.

Moon Fae's are as easily damaged as humans are. Moon Faes are often oblivious to potentially dangerous individuals and will approach any injured being they come across. Due to this, Moon Faes are often adopted by groups of monsters. These groups will keep the fae safe in exchange for being healed.

Female Moon Faes tend to live in one spot for a majority of their life, waiting for potential mates to find them. Male Moon Faes will roam looking for female Moon Faes and will settle down with one. Part of this seems to be carried from an ancestral instinct, while part of this is a generational teaching that most Moon Faes haven't really thought to do otherwise.

Solace is very mild-mannered and slow moving. She lives in a rainforest and hand crafts most of her cloths. Solace doesn't mind if she's alone or around others, but has settled somewhere away from other beings. This hasn't been the wisest choice as some wild animals will try to eat her.

She spends most of her time inside her home to daydream and idly pass the time. Solace also spends a great deal of time practicing her dancing as she performs for the full moon. She will become greatly upset if anything keeps her from dancing during a full moon. Moon Faes seem to believe the moon to be sentient to some degree. Solace will share how she feels she has upset the moon if she couldn't dance for it. To her, it saddens the moon if no one dances for it.

Her closest friend is Riddles, a Tivimi Fairy, another rare and dying species. Riddles found the Moon Fae and will come visit her every now and then. Whenever Riddles visits, she will tell Solace stories of what she has been up to. Solace looks forward to these visits, but doesn't ever ask for Riddles to show up more often. Solace figures she will see Riddles when she sees her.

One day Solace was found by a lone baby Tivimi Fairy. The young one was old enough to speak, but couldn't quite formulate the words to explain where his parents went. Solace took the young babe into her home and raised him. She sees herself as the boy's caretaker, but doesn't quite call herself his mother. In her mind, only the biological parents can hold such titles, but she never reacts negatively when accidently called momma.

The young Tivimi Fairy, Hex, feels like he can't call Solace "momma" since she's never told him to call her that. Unable to recall what his own parents look like, he sees Solace as his mother. Though when speaking of her, he will try to call her by her name and will be embarrassed if he calls her "momma" aloud.

Whenever Riddles would visit after Solace took Hex in, she would help with raising him. She would let Solace know what she may need to know to help with the Tivimi fairy as he grew. Riddles would even teach a few things to Hex directly, trying to prepare him for when he may eventually leave Solace's side.

Solace doesn't seem to be very reactive unless it involves the moon. You could steal fruit from her and her response will be to go "oh", calmly ask for it back, and upon not getting it back, go pick some different fruit. You could say dancing for the moon is pointless and stupid and she will glow red while ranting how mean that is to the moon.

[hidesinhisarchived]

The last six months of Mark’s life had been incredibly hectic while preparing for his newest documentary series. Several months of headache-inducing negotiations and scrambling to find crew who were willing to live in LA’s infamous ‘murder house’ had left the filmmaker exhausted and ready to quit before even stepping foot inside the place. By the end, he’d gotten so tired of hearing people whine about ghosts this and curses that that he was about ready to pull his own hair out by the fist full. But, he’d pulled through it and put together an excellent crew that were eager to prove themselves. They were a bit young and inexperienced, but had potential and he honestly couldn’t afford to be picky at this point.

It was finally all over and they were in the house. Mark had been in awe of the place from the absolute second that he’d taken his first step inside, practically drooling over how the light shone through the stained glass windows. This was the kind of place that he’d often dreamed of buying when he was younger and making it into an artists’ haven for his friends and loved ones. Something elegant and classic, filled to the brim with history and so many stories.

He’d been so taken with it all, in fact, that he’d immediately dropped his stuff in the master bedroom and grabbed his still camera. He’d spent a good couple of hours photographing every part of the place that caught his attention and had even captured a couple of places from several different angles until he’d been satisfied. His crew had given him weird looks, but no one had said anything. After all, who was going to question the great Mr. Proof Positive himself? They took the job knowing that he had a reputation for being a bit eccentric at times. Perhaps that had even been part of the appeal.

A few days in and a new problem came to light: neither Mark nor the production company had thought to hire a stager. Mark had several talents outside of the filmmaking and the writing, but interior decorating wasn’t one of them. Hell, he was still stinging over Maureen and Joanne making fun of him for how he decorated his own home and that had been three years ago. As a result, he’d gotten his assistant Lexie to call around to see if she could find someone willing to work with them. 

It’d taken a week, but eventually Lexie had struck paydirt. She tossed a piece of paper with a name scribbled on it at him as he sat at the kitchen counter, squinting slightly at his laptop as he read over the history of the Montgomerys. “His name is Chad. He’ll be by sometime today to check the place out and talk to you about the job.”

The filmmaker frowned as he tried to make sense of what she said. “Who? What job?”

Lexie sighed, used to this by now. She knew that when Mark got heavily fixated on something, it took him a couple of seconds to come back to planet earth when interrupted. “The interior decorator. Stager. Whatever the hell it’s called. I had to go through the realtor that sold the place to the production company, but she said that she got up with someone who agreed. The details that she gave me are on the paper. I hope you don’t mind, but I gotta go early. I promised my mom that I’d take her out to dinner tonight.”

“Aw, you sure you don’t wanna stay? Maybe move in? It’ll save you a commute.” Mark grinned at her, chuckling as she shuddered.

“Absolutely not! Being in this place is creepy enough for a few hours a day. I can’t see how you can actually stand to live here. Ugh.” She shook her head, nose wrinkling as she grabbed her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark. Oh! I filled your prescription for you and left the bag on your nightstand. Take care of yourself.” And with a final wave, she was gone. 

Still lightly chuckling, he went back to his research. Mark wasn’t sure how long he’d stared at the computer screen, reading about the Montgomerys’ history and the history of their home, only stopping to take the occasional note. The sound of the doorbell startled him, making him jump and sending his heart skittering in his chest. He sighed at himself, taking a deep breath before sliding out of his chair and heading for the front door. The others were out for the day, exploring LA and seeing the sights before things got too busy and they weren’t able to, so it was just him in the house at the moment. 

The filmmaker opened the door and was almost immediately taken in by the pair of large brown eyes that he found himself staring in. They were expressive and bright and attached to an incredibly handsome face. Oh no. It’d been a long time since Mark had been this instantly taken by someone’s looks, to the point where his heart practically skipped a beat in his chest. Which, at his age and condition, probably wasn’t a good thing. Shit. 

He cleared his throat, offering a smile at the stranger. “Oh! Hello! You, uh, you must be the decorator. Chad, right?” Mark stepped to the side to allow him entrance into the house. “Come in! I’m Mark, Mark Cohen. I’m the one running all of this and trying to put this whole thing together. What all were you told about this job?”

@applesdrowned gets a starter!

[lightningfury13]

Scott Summers' whole life is a trauma congo line and instead of going off the rails crazy he copes by being as rigid and controlled as he can. Partially because Professor X groomed him to be that way and partially because his power if out of control for a second could cause such devastation.

His life is a cosmic joke of every time he tries to do the right thing it ultimately goes wrong and nobody appreciates the sheer amount of work and sacrifice this man has put in to protect them.

Scott Summer is tragic and even when he tried to do the smart thing and get help for his issues his therapists, plural, raped him and made him like it with mind control and then blamed him for it.

Nobody liked Scott Summers least of all Scott himself but at the end of the day you can at least appreciate that despite all of that Scott kept getting up everyday and doing everything in his power to protect baby mutants and kids.

When he died to a disease effecting mutants he was mourned for what he did for the community than who he was as a person. And all the fan favorites? Yeah they don't do nearly as good a job holding everything together without Scott there to fall back on.

And yeah all this to say Scott Summers is a weird character. He doesn't have a lot of fans. Lack of quippy one liners? Lack of awesome fight scenes? Who knows? The backstory is there. Rich with potential. But keep Scott in character and his universe is to have this guy who is in complete control of himself at all times. He's the foil for all the fun characters and he himself is the anti fun because everything is serious all the time for him. And he Knows that's a problem for him.

As for awesome fights? Scott's kind of scary in a best military leader on the planet ends fights quickly and decisively and silently kind of way. That kind of fight that doesn't leave the kids he protects going "oh kewl Mr Wolverine can you teach us how to do that?" But more the "Uh did you know the guy who makes us eat our veggies and do our homework could fold a guy in half and melt people with his eyes? Cause I didn't?"

Followed by Scott in a serious voice trying so hard in his broken heart to go for a joke "guess you guys won't be missing curfew anyone?"

Just terror stricken faces. "Nope nu-uh Mr. Summers. Curfew. Got it."

Scott, still completely straight faced, guess that didn't land the way I wanted it to. Eyes softened and sad behind his visor where no one ever gets to see. Not turning around as he brings up his hand to snatch the throat out of a villian sneaking up behind him. "Well let's go home then. You all have homework to do and I need to cook you dinner."

Does that help him as a character I wonder? The Daddy angle? But Scott is really more of a Father than a Daddy. Like that distant father figure who always makes sure you have everything you need but awkwardly hovers when you cry.

I don't know. Scott Summers is hated in universe and not super well liked out of it and granted he makes some pretty awful fucking decisions but you can clearly see that they're mostly based on the information he has at the time. The needs of many outweighed the needs of the few. He has to be the Leader because no one else was gonna be. He had to be the hated one because someone had to make the awful necessary call. But gods his life really is just tragic. It doesn't make him likable but gods does it make him so so sad.

Some good things about Scott mostly from AUs where he's not as tragic?

The few times Scott's power has been gone or under control and he's been able to remove the visor? He apparently has the most soulful expressive gorgeous chocolate brown eyes.

Building on that he is in universe just incredibly beautiful full stop unfortunately this means anytime any woman has had full control over him via mind control...yeah...it's been one of the excuses among others for raping him.

There's been some time travel alternate universe stuff where you get to see a really really young Scott or Scott that wasn't groomed by Professor X and he's just a really sweet guy. Just a soft little sweetheart without a hard edge on him.

I can't think of any instance that Scott's gone evil. He's just a good person at his core. He's had to make some horrible calls for the greater whole of mutant kind and no one hates him more than he hates himself for those. But all the things that would have broken a man less good he just keeps on.

It's like the creators went here's an incredibly beautiful man, with big soulful brown eyes powerful physique, awesome power, good to his core, strategic brain, man's gonna be the perfect hero...but that's boring. Give him a villian origin story and then never let him snap.

also i’m sorry. i’ve never liked scott summers and i can’t start now

[vrishchikawrites]

Post-post-post cannon Wangxian being completely in love in the cloud recessess as teenagers who time travelled back to their own 16-17 year old bodies on accident.

In love. Wangxian are in love. In love. Just smooph and fluff.

Like they're effortlessly in love. (No matter how much Jiang Cheng yells and ties to control Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian casually refuses to hear any of it, as he'd been ignoring Jiang Cheng's homophobia and hate forever by the time they both came back by accident. )

Also wwx doesn't hide his genius and every one around him is like senpai *heart eyes* (honestly he's almost forgotten how to hide his effortless genius.)

(Just FYI, don't have to include this: this Wei Wuxian has long since come to terms with all his war and Sunshot and Shiji related trauma— just FYI.)

I just want to read as much of the smooph, smushy fluff and love you can stomach writing please.

Extra points if you can show them both just effortlessly and absentmindedly flirting.

(You don't have to incude this, but: They just take like a weekend off and go raze the main Wen family to the ground casually— back late with Starbucks— "We were night hunting. What do you mean the Wen family died? So sad. We feel so bad. Don't we feel bad?" " Mm. Feel bad.")

Thank you so much for existing in this fandom. I love your fics. I love you. 💖

Xichen is proud of his brother but he can't deny that he is sometimes concerned for him as well. Wangji is a dedicated and accomplished disciple but he is isolated from his peers. Xichen has friends and confidants but Wangji is simply content to be by himself.

That is concerning, even for a Lan.

He had hopes that incoming disciples would manage to shake him up a little but that hope didn't last long. Year after year, Wangji continued to remain aloof, not expressing any interest in the disciples.

But something has changed this year. Xichen didn't even know what was going on until a few weeks into the introduction of the guest disciples.

He spots them by chance. Young Master Wei is cheerfully waving at a vendor, his smile wide and bright, ensnaring the old woman's entire attention.

Wangji is right by him, Bichen in one hand but the other…

The other is placed on the small of Wei-gongzi's back.

Xichen watches as they move on from the vendor. He sees how Wangji seems to shield Wei-gongzi from the crowd, angling his body slightly to ensure his companion can walk freely.

It is a gesture of protectiveness. It is a gesture of possession.

Xichen studies their body language carefully. Wangji seems content to follow Wei-gongzi around, his expression closed but gentle. There are no frosty glares or pursed lips. His brother, for once, looks entirely relaxed. Everything about him is loose and easy underneath all of his Lan elegance. His shoulders slope gently, his spine isn't as rigid, and his walk is steady.

The First Jade has never seen his brother look so settled.

Wei Wuxian seems happy too, his smile incandescent and lovely. Almost as tall as Wangji, the boy is the very antithesis of his brother. While Wangji is sedate and content, Wei Wuxian is nearly bursting with energy and joy. His silver eyes sparkle in the sunlight and his long hair sways with every movement of his body.

Xichen's heart softens at the glimpse of such open beauty. There's certainly something alluring about Young Master Wei. He seems to suffuse his surroundings with happiness.

There's something in the air around them.

Despite his lively mind wandering from one stall to another, Wei-gongzi always finds his way back to Wangji, looking at him with a hopeful smile and a cheerful comment.

His brother's expression is unfamiliar to him. Wangji looks like his entire world is smiling up at him.

'Is this love?' He wonders to himself as he watches his brother gently pull Wei-gongzi out of a running child's way. He doesn't miss how the touch lingers, fingers curling slightly around the slender wrist before pulling away.

There are many eyes following Wangji and his friend, and all of them have indulgent expressions. The people of Caiyi town have seen Wangji since he was a child. They know him and his nature well enough.

Xichen suspects they're just as happy to see Wangji roaming the markets leisurely as a pretty butterfly flutters around him.

"Is that Lan Wangji?" Nei Mingjue observes, stepping up beside him.

Xichen nods, "And his friend, Wei Wuxian."

"Hm," his friend says, "I've been hearing that name a lot recently. They say the only reason Jin Zuxian beat him in the rankings is because of his looks."

Xichen chuckles at Mingjue's tone, "Ah, Da-ge, you must hate that."

His friend rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his tea. "How do looks matter when you're facing down Fierce Corpses?"

"From what shufu says, Young Master Wei is Wangji's equal in many ways." Shufu had been wary at first, wondering what sort of chaos the son of Cangse Sanren would bring to Cloud Recesses. So far, Wei Wuxian has proven to be a mischievous but brilliant student. "He challenges shufu in class. They end up having loud, angry debates," Xichen chuckles because he knows his uncle, despite all appearances, loves being stimulated, "He mentions the boy often." There's a comment about Wei Wuxian almost every time he has tea with his uncle.

He looks at the two younger master's thoughtfully, "I didn't expect this."

"Are they courting?" Nei Mingjue asks bluntly, "Because your little brother is acting like a husband already."

Xichen stills and looks at the pair again. That is what's off about their body language. They move around each other confidently, not like a young couple in fresh blooms of love.

There are no tentative glances, awkward touches, and hyperawareness. Wangji touches Wei Wuxian like it is his right. Like he is confident that his touch is welcome and desired.

For a moment, he feels a pang of worry. Xichen looks at Wei Wuxian, studying him carefully to see if there's any sign of strain or distress.

He finds nothing. Wei-gongzi responds to every gesture of affection like a flower blooming under the Sun.

"Ah." He realizes, "You think…?"

"Strong bonds form quickly between cultivators with matching potential." Nei Mingjue observes, "It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility. Your brother looks a little too enamored for this to be a teenage fancy."

Well, isn't this an interesting development?

---

"Your hair looks nice," Nie Huaisang says, hiding a smile behind his fan. Wei-xiong always looks good but there's something particularly radiant about him now. He seems to stand a bit taller, carry himself with a bit more confidence. His gestures seem stronger, somehow carrying more authority than before.

But the hair intrigues him. There's a glittering silver hairpiece in it and the strands of ebony are tied up in a neat style.

Neater than Wei-xiong's usual style. While Huaisang is certain Wei-xiong is perfectly capable of making himself as elegant as the Jades of Lan, he usually doesn't bother.

This was done by someone else's careful, loving, hand.

Jiang Yanli isn't at Cloud Recesses and Jiang Cheng would rather burn his own hands than show even an ounce of love towards his shixiong - something pricks when he thinks about that.

So there's someone else, someone willing to comb Wei-xiong's hair until every strand is glossy and straight, before tying it up with a silver and jade pin that looks expensive.

Wei-xiong is courting- no, he corrects himself, watching his friend wave enthusiastically at Lan Wangji, 'Wei-xiong is being courted.'

Wangji-xiong bows to his brother and walks towards Wei-xiong, his gaze softer than usual. His friend is smiling widely and immediately dissolves into excited chatter. Wangji-xiong doesn't seem bothered, just nodding occasionally and watching with indulgent patience.

There's something entirely lovely about the way Wangji-xiong's eyes remain fixed on Wei Wuxian's face. It is like nothing else is more important to him than Wei-xiong's smile and cheerful voice.

Standing together in the courtyard, both clad in white and glowing under the warm light of the morning sun, they look stunning. Huaisang's romantic heart sighs at the sight.

"What is he doing?" Jiang Wanyin hisses and Huaisang looks at him, startled by his icy tone, "I can't believe he's making a nuisance of himself again!"

"Jiang-gongzi-"

"Wei Wuxian! What are you doing, messing around?"

The loud voice catches almost everyone's attention. Wei-xiong looks over his shoulder and Wangji-xiong's expression turns frosty, all warmth draining from it immediately.

"Aiya, Jiang Cheng," Wei-xiong grins but it doesn't have that sheepish, placating quality that Huaisang had seen before, on those rare occasions he visited Lotus Pier with his da-ge. This grin was full of confidence and almost... dismissal. "Why are you angry now?"

Was that tone... mocking?

Huaisang's lips twitch as Jiang-gongzi swells further with rage, "Wei Wuxian! How can you be so shameless? Imposing yourself on Lan Wangji, always trying to distract him. Think of our sect's reputation for once!"

"Do not speak for me." Wangji-xiong's voice is icy and it cuts Jiang-gongzi's rant short immediately, "Wei Ying is free to seek me out whenever he wishes. No one may stop him."

And that seems to be that. Wei-xiong laughs and Wangji-xiong guides him away gently like he's someone delicate and not the strongest cultivator of their generation.

But, Huaisang muses, even strong people deserve gentleness.

---

"Da-shixiong! Show us that one again," A Jiang disciple demands and Wangji looks up from his work. He has clear sight of the training ground from where he's sitting. Wei Ying is standing in the middle, surrounded by a few Jiang and Lan disciples.

They're all looking at him in adoration.

Wangji feels a flood of amusement and sets his work aside, content to take a small break. It is always a treat to see his husband in his element; teaching people and nurturing young minds. They may be back in their teenage bodies, but their soul is much older.

Wei Ying, with his natural ability to charm juniors and his hard-earned wisdom, is the perfect teacher.

"It is amusing to see you so smitten," Wangji looks up to see his brother smiling at him, "Wei-gongzi must be very special, yes?"

His brother probably aims to fluster him, he is so fond of teasing Wangji. But Wangji had been Wei Ying's husband for more than a decade before an accident sent them back in time. He is no longer flustered or overwhelmed by his feelings. "Very special," He agrees, unable to help glancing back at his beloved, "Very lovely."

Xichen chuckles, "He is indeed lovely." His expression turns sly, "Do I need to speak with Uncle? Betrothal negotiations may be complicated in this case."

Wangji remains unphased, "You may," He says calmly, much to his brother's surprise, "Wei Ying will marry into the Lans. Give no concession to the Jiangs. He is just their Head Disciple, not the part of the family."

"Wangji," His brother breathes, "You're that invested?"

"Un. Will marry Wei Ying. Give him a better life. A life of dignity, freedom, and respect. Free of unnecessary debt that no one should foist on a child."

That is enough for Xichen to understand. His gaze turns solemn and he looks at Wei Ying carefully, "If that is what you wish, brother, you will have it."

---

Wangji feels his heart still when he steps into the library pavilion. He gazes at the scene before him, feeling the stiff formality of his expression melt away.

Wei Ying is beautiful, sitting there and reading peacefully. The evening sunlight envelopes him, giving him an ethereal glow. He traces his husband's features, feeling something akin to desperate love. It has been so since he saw this face and this body. Mo Xuanyu didn't lack beauty and Wei Ying's radiant personality had only added to it.

But this is Wei Ying's true body.

Helplessly drawn, he steps forward. "Xingan."

Wei Ying looks up, startled to hear such an endearment aloud. Immediately, his face is aglow with a pretty blush even as he laughs teasingly, "Lan Zhan! Don't be so bold!"

He walks towards Wei Ying and settles down by him, closer than truly appropriate but this is his husband. "Research?"

Wei Ying smiles, drawing Wangji's attention to his lips. There's no one in the library so Wangji permits himself the touch, reaching forward to gently caress them, "Such beauty." He whispers.

Wei Ying blushes again, "Er-gege," He protests, "Have mercy on my heart."

His fingers slide under Wei Ying's jaw, drawing him in gently. His husband is sweet and compliant as Wangji kisses him, an innocent brush of lips and nothing more. "My Wei Ying." His voice is low, heated in ways Wei Ying recognizes. He watches as those enchanting silver eyes brighten with passion.

His Wei Ying buries his warm face in his neck with a moan of protest, "Mercy, husband. You're so cruel to tease me like this when you can't take me to bed."

It is indeed a challenge to not have their 'everyday' but Wangji can be patient. Xiongzhang is already working on it.

For now, he is content.

They sit like that for a long time, Wei Ying leaning against him, trusting and calm. No one disturbs them and Xichen only stops by once, smiling knowingly in their direction and pointedly ignoring Wangji's restraining hand around Wei Ying's waist, stopping him from pulling away.

They spend the rest of the evening exchanging soft murmurs and softer kisses.

Nothing will stand in their way this time.

[realcatalina]

Family portrait of Henry VIII

I know I promised you doing the pearl necklaces, but to do them correctly, I need detailed chronology of 1540-1560 portraits. Tbh, it might take months and certainly would not fit in single post to explain all of it. Hence I’ve decided that to instead give you little tidbits of what I found.

So here is why this portrait was NOT done in 1545.

It is located in Hampton Court and is part of  Royal Trust Collection, on their webpage dated as c.1545.

But other webpages instead give it c.1543-1547 dating. Why?

Well Edward is no baby in there, it is not by Holbein(who died in 1543) and Elizabeth and Mary are included-suggesting this portrait is to  mark their newly found place in Succession, which occured in July 1543. Hence the dating is stretched between 1543(succession change) and and 1547(Henry VIII’s death), and the middle of that estimate(middle value of that range) is used by Royal Collection trust.

1545 is middle value between 1543-1547. 

(If it was during Edward VI’s reign, Edward’d be much older, and probably in the centre of the painting instead of his father.)

 However most fans think that c.1545 means it is max 1 year away from 1545(1544-1546) or even strictly that year, just 1545.

But of course when professionals use this sort dating, theirs estimate(placing it in middle of assumed range) and mine won’t always match!

I am nitpicker. If there is any evidence as to where to that range portrait belongs to, I will find it. I will find evidence which will say-oh it is towards beginning of this range or towards end of this range. Or-i found no evidence of it meaning towards the ends of this range-so it probably is in middle of the range.(or i don’t know then). 

They assume it is after succesion was officially changed in July 1543. But I think it is actually likely to have been done before July 1543. 

(Henry VIII probably needed to get it through parliament first, but his intention for it could have arised much earlier. )

But still possibly that year-1543. Just different half of it. 

My estimate is 1542-1543(1st half of it) and there are several  reason why I think it way more likely: 

Number 1: Edward’s matching in fashionstyle his portraits done in 1542/1543 by Holbein:

Unfortunately only copies survive but give you good idea of fashion he wore around that age. There is surviving drawing by Holbein which was likely ment for another original(clasps are across chest) but face is just the same. Faces of little kids change so rapidly, so it should be him around same age.

And even if we stretched dating to max. Holbein could only paint and draw Edward up to November 1543, a month after Edward would turn 5. Still small kid.

Number 2: Size of both sisters and size of Edward

Mary was notably short. Elizabeth was on at least higher average. I am notably short myself. Do you know how many 12 year olds have outgrew me? More like which didn’t?’ Plenty of 10 year olds are my height, or already taller than me.

If Elizabeth was 12(c. 1545 dating), she and her sister should have much smaller height difference. 

If we assumed Mary was about 5′ tall as adult(based upon average height of Tudor woman being 5′2′’), then Elizabeth’s height would be around 4′4. She could be as young as eight years old in the painting. Hence 1541 even, but let’s look at rest of evidence.

If we put Edward next to his sisters:

Then he is around 3′8′’. So given he was on tall side, he should be around 5. Possibly even younger. (Depending also on how short was Mary, if she was bellow 5′0′’, he could be even younger, but probably max 4)

Bear in mind that reports of Edward being bellow average height probably come from beginning of his reign and he died aged only 15 and probably never reached his full potential height.

Number 3-Fashion

Fashion wise it also doesn’t fit Catherine of Parr’s time as Queen. Already in 1544 Mary I had undersleeves with 5 cuts style(5 visible cuts). Here we have the previous style(which in this case shows 4 cuts, but usually angle allows only for 3 to be visible). The wastelines also support ealry 1540s, max.1544, but probably not the later date because of how rounded their french hoods appear.  

There is also small gap in middle of the skirt, revealing too much of forefront(look at jane bellow).  Usually it is Elizabethean detail of fashion(and big mistake in Henrician fashion), but also very briefly appears in some of the early 1540s depictions(though i am not sure if it isn’t just one painter in Holbein’s workshop whose hand went bit off), and then it disappears from Tudor fashion and triangular shape is restored, probably under Parr’s influence. 

Number 4: Jane Seymour is depicted

Art historians are always like-oh, Henry VIII was so horrible for not including Catherine Parr(his supposedly then  Queen) and choosing mother of his son instead. He was obsessed with cult of Jane and mistreated Parr!

Now let’s not be biased as hell and let’s look at other more likely explanation.

The portrait was probably done in time when Henry VIII didn’t have a consort. So from all his past wives he chosen mother of his heir. It’s logical!

And that means, it’d have to be painted after Howard’s death, but before Henry VIII married Parr. (It cannot be between Jane’s death and Anne of Cleves arrival. Kids are not that small!)

Hence between February 1542 and July 1543.  It fits in every aspect. 

Mary would be 26-27, Elizabeth would be 8-9 and Edward 4-5 years old.

Being done before Holbein’s death could explain why his influence in the painting is so notable. Perhaps he overlooked design, but another painter eventually finished it. After all Holbein towards end of his career was overlooking entire workshop of artists.

 It’s possible he foucused on single portraits, while others did larger ones/group ones but admitably Holbein did Whitehall mural, so it doesn’t stand to strutiny. But it could be the case that Holbein became sick before portrait could be finished. Perhaps he did just sketches for the painting and another painter finished it. However if painting was 2nd half of 1543 it would not explain why would there be Jane instead of Parr.

But had it been done in 1st half of year 1543, it could still be without Parr. 

It is speculated Holbein could have died suddenly, perhaps of plague or some infectious disease, because one posthumous portrait of Queen Jane was abandoned in very last stage of making and never finished.

But we cannot exclude possibility that his health got progressively worse throughout 1542-1543 and that he was sick several times during those years, and the last illness just finished him off. (It happened a lot in those days,that not the first illness was what kill you. You still weren’t recovered and another illness lurked around the corner.)

Then of course somebody else in the workshop would pick up his work, perhaps still being adviced by him about it or him doing the original sketches for it.

It is likely that making date of portrait would be closer to July 1543, than to February 1542, because it’d make sense to comemorate the sucession change and because it’d better fit with Edward’s height.

Hence imo the portrait was done between 2nd half of 1542 and 1st half of 1543. Prior to succesion officially being changed and Henry VIII marrying Catherine Parr.

So the professional estimate 1543-1547 is not entirely wrong. It meets me in 1543, but they made assumption that it MUST BE after official change of succession.The evidence within the painting itself was overlooked and by many people! This is very well known painting, lots of people have seen it. Experts from all around. And they didn’t question what imo is a wrong assumption.

And that’s just one portrait whose wrong estimate throws us off. There could be many more.

[delimeful]

failed bounties and fresh bonds

commission for @the-panmixxia! thank you so much for your support! :)

warnings: fear/panic, unintentional child endangerment, pretty bad injury, hypothetical gore/death mentions, remus being remus

-

Virgil pressed his palm over his mouth, struggling not to make any noise even as his lungs strained for air. There was someone in his forest, and he was sure they were here to kill him or worse.

He should have left before tonight, gotten as far away as possible, but... He’d lived here for longer than any of the other temporary homes he’d found. It was the safest place he’d found.

The trees in the forest were old and huge, enough that they sheltered him from view. The mountain was even more so, with old dragon caves that he could spend hours exploring. There was a little town to the south, but the forest was big enough that no travelers stumbled across the part where he lived.

He’d only snuck down to the town because he’d wanted to see the lights that had been strung up in the streets. He wasn’t sure what they were for, but they were bright and beautiful.

He hadn’t meant to get so close. He hadn’t meant to be caught.

But between one moment and the next, there had been a tiny gasp, and he’d turned his head to see one of the townsfolk, a young woman, staring up at him in frozen terror. The sight of the human had terrified him just as much, and he’d tipped back onto his butt, his hand knocking into a market stall with a crash of splintering wood.

The spell of silence broken, the woman screamed, the alarm spreading as windows began to light all down the street. Virgil had scrambled back like a crab, before turning and fleeing into the woods, leaving behind the distant noise of opening doors and raised voices.

It had all led to this. He’d been seen, and they’d set a bounty on his head, and now there was a strange human in his forest.

Virgil could hear the stranger humming, his tone nasal and low, occasionally straying painfully off key. He’d been using the sound as a guide, creeping away as quietly as he could whenever it came into range, but no matter how hard he tried to put distance between them, the wind would carry that hum back to him the moment he settled down to hide.

The stranger was a skilled tracker, maybe, or had extraordinarily good luck, or actually had seen Virgil that first time and had been following him from a distance ever since, tiring him out like a wolf stalking a deer. He didn’t sound like a knight, didn’t move with the crash of steel or ride a horse. Virgil hoped he wasn’t a knight, almost more than he wished he’d never gone down to that village at all.

He let himself breathe in, quiet and shaky, and then pushed away from the wall of his cave, listening for the stranger so he could try and sneak away once more.

Between the distant trees and night sky, there was silence.

Virgil leaned towards the cave’s opening, scanning the sharp silhouettes and straining for even the most muffled sound of twigs underfoot.

At the lip of the cave, a human-sized figure swung into view upside down, baring bone-white teeth in an unhinged grin. “Boo!”

Virgil couldn’t help the small scream that tore from him, the noise echoing against the cavern’s walls. His heart racing, he bolted back down those familiar tunnels without another thought, fleeing even as the human’s cackling cut off sharply.

“—Hey, wait, get back here! I didn’t spend all night wandering in the cold-ass woods just to have a monster blueball me out of a fight again!”

Shouted into a deep cave, the stranger’s words bounced and overlapped until they were just meaningless noise around Virgil, only propelling him forward faster. He took the corners sharply, scrambling up near sheer cliffs, barely noticing the way sharp protruding rocks scraped against his shoulders or pierced the soft bits of his feet.

He didn’t realize he was cornering himself until he turned into a dead end, the paths somehow warped and unfamiliar under the force of his panic. Quick, skipping steps were pursuing him in the distance, which meant that the human could still hear his footsteps, and so he shuffled into the furthest corner of the cavern and focused on making himself still and quiet, no matter how hard his body wanted to tremble and shake and sob.

There was no doubt about it; the stranger was a bounty hunter, and Virgil was the bounty.

That nasally voice continued to echo down to Virgil as he rambled on, complaining or singing or making jokes Virgil didn’t get, all while steadily pursuing his quarry.

Bit by bit, the noise drew closer and closer, accompanied by the crackle of a merrily burning torch. He seemed to be utterly undeterred by the twisting, unsettling nature of the mountain, and what little hope Virgil had began to fade. There was no way that the stranger would just happen to pass him by.

It would take a miracle to save him now.

A cavern away, a chunk of old stone gave way under an overconfident foot.

—-

“Oh, fuck—,” Remus shouted, his brain nearly shorting out as he tripped directly into freefall.

His divination provided him with a slurry of unhelpful images, each one matching a tiny movement he made while falling: him landing on his legs and shattering both of them so hard he blacks out, him landing on his head and doing a lot worse than blacking out, ragdolling all the way down the crevice below, twisting so that his foot catches on a crack in the wall and wrenches his ankle— That one!

He howled as his foot caught, and then the bitch that was gravity caught up with him and his back and skull slammed against the wall, knocking the air out of him and causing little white flashes to appear in his vision.

It took a long moment to come back to himself through the pain, but when he did, he found himself still dangling in place by a single ankle. He’d lost his torch somewhere in the process.

He glanced down, and knew immediately that the shadowy drop below was fatal, the cracks of potential future bone breaking settling into his brain.

Glancing up, he knew immediately that his ankle was boned, going by the interesting angle it was making with the rest of his leg.

He contemplated reaching up with his other foot and trying to wedge it in another crack. His brain offered him visions of the whole bit of cliff face snapping into brittle pieces, and then more falling to his death.

He crossed his arms, letting all the blood rush to his head in hopes of that generating a better idea. Instead, he got a headache.

“Well, shit,” he said, succinctly.

Something big shifted, just barely in earshot. Remus didn’t bother looking ahead; it was obvious that the giant he’d been hunting had just figured out how thoroughly the roles had been reversed.

Sure enough, the movements shuffled closer, surprisingly hesitant, and then two huge, glowing eyes peered down at him.

“Come to grind my bones into paste?” Remus asked, genuinely curious. “Or squish all my organs out through my ears?”

Those eyes scrunched up a bit in revulsion, which was hilarious coming from a monster about to kill him. He wiggled his limbs around a bit, ignoring the resulting pain and cracking of brittle rock in favor of hopefully enticing the creature to grab him already. Just hanging around was getting boring.

The breathing above him quickened a bit, and then there was a curved, warm surface under him, lifting slowly until his ankle was no longer carrying all of his weight. Remus considered yanking the injured foot free before the monster could do it for him, but before he could follow through, there was the silhouette of large fingers poking and prying at the rock until it really did crumble away.

The cupped thing he was splayed across had to be a hand too, he realized as he breathed through the sharp jabs of pain from his ankle being released. From the way the townspeople described it, he’d expected something less… human-shaped.

Between his ankle and his head rush, it was no surprise that he blacked out a little.

When he managed to wake back up, they’d returned to a tunnel that led outside, going by the fresh air he could feel against his face. It must have taken the creature a lot more time to make the trip while carrying him.

Whatever it wanted him for, he wasn’t sticking around to find out. He cast around for potential futures-- he rolls out of the grip and smacks his head on stone, he lands on his bad ankle and instantly blacks out again, he waits a little longer and is set on the ground outside by--

“You’re a kid?” he blurted, his vision of a distinctly human, distinctly child-shaped face fading away. The hand under him jolted, and the kid made a startled sniffle.

“You’re alive?” he asked in return, his voice deep and big but also rough with… tears? Jeez, had the kid really been that upset about some asshole bounty hunter biting the dust?

The hand curled in a little tighter around him, one fingertip coming to settle on his chest as though to check that he really was breathing. The motion was gentler than he thought possible for a giant, and he realized fairly abruptly that the ‘terrorized’ people in the town below were full of shit.

He’d hunted this kid for a whole night, and all he’d done in return was avoid him and then save his life. Some ‘monster’.

The kid seemed to remember himself, and flattened his hand back out before shuffling forwards more. There was a subtle shaking running through him, and Remus had the feeling that the kid was going to bolt the minute he set him down.

“Anyone else live up here with you?” he asked, flopping back onto the hand casually. He felt that giant gaze drop onto him and continued casually. “I came up here for a bounty but it turned out the townsfolk are dirty liars. I haven’t seen a single monster.”

There was a little surprised inhale from above him.

“In fact, this place is so nice I might camp here for a while,” he added, waving a hand at the forest ahead lazily. “Make sure to send off any other bounty hunters so they don’t waste their time up here.”

“R-Really?” the kid asked, his tone full of doubt and suspicion.

“Yup! I’ve been told I’m an absolutely detestable neighbor, disturber of the peace, totally unrecommended, zero out of ten,” Remus paused. “But I’m great at getting rid of uninvited guests!”

The kid took that last step out of the tunnel, the early light of dawn spilling over both of them. Remus sat up, waving his fingers in greeting as they both took each other in as more than silhouettes.

Apart from the fact that he was giant, the kid looked like... a kid. An long-limbed, underfed, lonely kid. One with distinct cuff-shaped scars around his wrists and ankles.

Remus shoved down his anger, tore his gaze away from the old wounds, and offered the kid a sharp-toothed grin. The kid tilted his head, wary. That was okay. Remus could handle wary.

“So, what do you say?”

“... Neighbors,” he replied, hesitant and hopeful. Remus cheered obnoxiously.

He was going to have fun making those people regret ever putting a bounty on this kid.