#paris avery

[cherryschaos]

Grayson Hawthorne is basically a more traumatized version of Paris Geller

[lee-writes-things]

paris by taylor swift is so averyjameson coded

exhibit a: "I'm so in love that I might stop breathing"

i think the lyrics just fit their relationship because they love so deeply for each other, and they have that cutesy vibe to them.

exhibit b: "Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling"

when we first learned about avery in tig it was obvious that she wants to travel to all the places on the postcards that her mom left her

exhibit c: "No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else"

because avery is always in the media it makes sense for her to wanna just go travel somewhere nice with jameson when the attention gets too overwhelming

exhibit d: "Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours"

they wouldn't avoid being seen in public but they are also very private people because of how much paparazzi they already get

exhibit e: "Sit quiet by my side in the shade

And not the kind that's thrown

I mean, the kind under where a tree has grown"

after SO much unnecessary drama from the press, avery is so over it and just wants some nice peace and quiet with her bf

i feel like im practically saying the same thing over and over again but i just love averyjameson and taylor swift so much <3

[burningexeter]

I don't want to give them any ideas but I think I now have an idea for dare I say, an American Werewolf In London sequel that avoids all the garbage in sequels made years later when it's too late.

An American Werewolf In The Catacombs

I don't have the entire storyline down but I do have a few things in mind for it - it will be set in Paris, France decades after the events of the first film, it focuses on an American filmmaker helming a feature in Paris, there will be a balance of both CG and practical, it's more of a deadpan comedy than the first and the Catacombs will play a major role in the overall plot, serving as where the climax takes place in.

I know I want KNB (Kurtzman, Nicotero, Berger) doing the make-up and practical effects while Weta Digital will do the CGI.

As for who's the lead actor, I want a new and fresh up-and-coming face since it makes sense for the character he's playing.

Now for who's the director, the choices that I have in mind are the following - Todd Holland, Julius Avery, E. Elias Merhige, Mark Molloy and Gareth Edwards.

[plague-dino]

Hetalia Capital OC: Paris

Song I Associate With This OC: Numb Little Bug - Em Beihold

Questions For This OC: Open!

A/N: Someone please get Paris some help/hj

~Name~ -Eloise Sharpe [Capital Representative of Paris]

~Age~ -27

~Gender/Pronouns~ -Cis, She/Her

~Sexuality~ -Aroace

~Appearance~ -5'5 -Dulled green eyes behind black glasses, with long red hair (dyed) -Normally wears a sweater, sweat pants, and gray walking shoes -That's it

~Personality~ -Very nonchalant 90% of the time -No one knows what her personality is like outside of that -Mainly due to her being a recluse

~Extra Not Mentioned~ -Has a bunch of mental issues -And unhealthy coping mechanisms :[ -Gossip girl -Uses Jamie (D.C.) as a translator bc she sees no need to speak English at this point in time -Often teases a lot of the younger capitals, but also Florence (London) -Can be found at museums, sometimes giving tours -Owns several goldfish named England, France, and London

[lenoraah]

𝙥𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

pairing - dad!oscar piastri x mom!reader

summary - when Oscar and reader decides to bring their daughters to a race, they become the princess of the paddock

a/n - this will be aged up obviously, just another normal day 🤍 ah hem, here we go; Gayle (5), Niamh (3), Lola (1) also i have this idea of matching Owalas with the kids, i don’t know they’re so cuteeee

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Three kids, three water bottles for hydration, three mini bags of their things and entertainment will be; well you know the race and the people.”

“Nice thinking mom,” Avery teases and elbows Y/n in the arm.

“Hey, all I want to do during a race day is relax and let Oscar watch the kids before the actual race begins. Also I just want to be a cool mom who has matching water bottles with her kids.” Y/n shrugs, taking a sip from her Owala.

The two watch as Gayle and Niamh run around Lando, laughing and talking with her. Lola toddles around with Oscar’s help, trying her best to catch up with her sisters.

Y/n and Avery stand in the sunlight with their sunglasses resting on their faces. Y/n holds her water in her hold while Avery has her arms folded.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love the Brazil race. Lovely weather, well most of the time.” Avery shrugs with a smile on her and Y/n laughs.

“Just like every other race destination, unpredictable.” Y/n sighs and she laughs once again watching Lola fall down on her butt as she tries to run after Lando.

The toddler laughs and flailing her arms around energetically. Oscar chuckles as he helps her up and into his arms.

He swings her around and gently rocks her. The girls hover around their dad as they all try to grab his attention. Of course, he can’t help but divide his attention among the three and make all three of them giggle at one of his dad jokes.

Y/n sighs with a content smile on her face and leans against Avery’s shoulder.

“Makes you want to have one right? You know Jefferson is very ready, you’ve seen him with the girls.” Avery rolls her eyes and Y/n gently hits her hip against hers.

“Yes, because having a toddler who looks actually like Jefferson with his green eyes and black curls and pale skin running around while he’s gone in Paris for fashion week and there is a messy house is a great idea. And if I’m like you and end up having three kids because we can’t get rid of each other, then that’s kind of a lot. Three kids with dark green eyes and perfect black curls.” Avery hums and holds onto Y/n’s arm.

“Sounds like you already can see your kids, or you have baby fever.” Y/n teases and Avery shakes her head.

“Jefferson does, not me.”

“Sure, let’s check that out again in five years.

[forestdeath1]

The Black family as representatives of ancient "Anglo-Saxon elite"

To me Blacks were never partially French. I'm not saying the headcanon "Blacks are partially French" isn't valid, it's just not as interesting to me and it strips away nuances from their history. Here's why.

(It’s just my fantasies mixed with historical facts! Don’t take it too seriously)

Firstly, their choice of surname.

I've noticed that two main Death Eater families bear surnames of French and Norman origin. Lestrange and Malfoy (fictional, but the "origin" is clear). And then there's Rosier and Avery. Rosier – definitely French, and Avery – from the Middle English and Anglo-Norman French personal name Aevery, a Norman form of Alfred. There are no other surnames like this in Harry Potter, except for Peverell (correct me if I'm wrong).

Clearly, this is a reference to the Norman Conquest of 1066. These Death Eaters could be associated with aristocratic and influential families who came to England after the Norman Conquest. This is a nod to the historical division in English society between Normans and Anglo-Saxons, where Normans represented the upper echelon of society, while Anglo-Saxons were less privileged.

Yes, I'm Captain Obvious here. So let's move on to the Blacks.

The surname Black is typically Anglo-Saxon. It could have derived from the Old English word 'blæc,' meaning 'black' or 'dark,' and may have been used to describe someone who wore black clothing or had dark hair.

(Old English emerged around the 5th-6th centuries and was used in England for about 600 years, until the 11th century. This period ended after the Norman Conquest in 1066).

Hogwarts, canonically, appeared over 1000 years ago. That is, before the Norman Conquest. (But Hogwarts Castle couldn't exist yet, because castle technology was brought by the Normans). The Blacks call themselves "the noble and most ancient house of Black." That is, the oldest family, and also the noblest. Maybe they were "noble" in the sense that they belonged to the elite of Anglo-Saxon society (which was fragmented into small kingdoms). But they consider themselves the oldest family among those who trace their lineage and uphold the nobility (purity) of their blood. Considering that "Hogwarts" appeared before the Norman Conquest, I fantasize that such families already existed back then. A lot of families are extinct. Except the Blacks.

So the Blacks are a reflection of "Anglo-Saxon aristocracy." And here I headcanon that the Blacks still considered themselves more entitled than everyone else, mocked the Malfoys and Rosiers, and generally looked down on anything French. Fanatics to the bone and lovers of elevating themselves above all.

Why the motto in French – in the Middle Ages, the use of Latin and French languages was common among European aristocracy (despite the fact that there is NO aristocracy among wizards, but they could have been part of the aristocracy before the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy). The French language was often considered the language of diplomacy and culture, and its use in mottos and coats of arms was a common phenomenon. Here I just headcanon that one of the Blacks either had a strange sense of humour, or wanted to put an end to the ancient feud of the Blacks with all things French and start the family on some new beginnings. Maybe they married someone with French roots to expand their influence.

Of course, all this can be explained differently. The headcanon that the Blacks have some French part also makes sense. But for me personally, that's not so interesting, considering the obvious connections of the Lestranges and Rosiers with France (Vinda Rosier, Lestrange family Mausoleum in Paris). I prefer the Blacks who are so arrogant that they even consider themselves "true English wizards," not "like those Malfoys." And I headcanon that this was not a real confrontation, but rather a pretext for jokes and fuel for greater kindling of their vanity.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Dark Academia Names

Gender Neutral

Adrian

Alex

Amal

Arden

Avery

Briar

Carter

Darcy

Drew

Eden

Emery

Ezra/Esra

Flynn

Kai

Léan

Logan

London

Nasim

Nevin

Nikita

Noa/Noah

Noel

Nur/Noor

Paris

Robin

Rory

Sam

Quinn

Vivien/Vivian

Yaël

More names!

Dark Academia Boy Names

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[mystiquelous]

౨ৎ What's in Ms. Paris Avery's Work Bag ?

Tote Bag | Magazine | Digital Camera | Airpods Wallet | Makeup Bag | Perfume | Makeup Sunglasses | Protien Bar | Water Bottle | Keys

♡ thanks to the amazing cc creators : @sundays-sims @helstudio @inabadromance @ddaeng-sims @xplatinumxluxexsimsx @pinkbox-anye @plushpixelssims @buildingdiva

More Cc recs ▾

[flemingsgirl]

Enough pt. 3

Masterlist

For the opening ceremony you dress in the uniform you got before you left for Paris, personally you thought you were going back to school, but you kinda liked it, causal yet significant and holds bites of your nationality. With America being second last to be presented you had a long night however your time was spent valuable as you messaged back and forth with Jessie.

As the cameras were pointed on the American boat, you packed your phone into your bag, giving your attention to the crowd around you and the people in front of the television. Smiling, you wave to the viewer as you pass them, having an arm around your best friend and jumping up in your spot. Your phone was long forgotten, so when you hit the mattress as you were ready for the night, you had a glance at the device, flooded with several notifications from your family as well as from Jessie.

Tonight, I’m an American myself. GO USA! (and Canada ofc)

Oh, wow, they mixed up the names of north and south Korea…

Damn I see red, how could they. Relieved I’m not there it’s like much and roaring. Nvm go CANADA! #1

OMG!! Look who I spotted!!

Wow she’s kinda pretty, who’s that? Can you get me her number?

Don’t mind the Canadian athlete in the background with his outstanding tracksuit XD

Seems like you’re busy... :/ have fun and be careful. Let me now when you’re back so I know you’re safe! Good night beauty.

Here to say I’m back safe, already in my bed and ready to sleep. Nighty night.

Just moments later your phone rings and you’re quick to accept and stumble into the bathroom, not wanting to wake Avery. “Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey,” her voice raspy.

“Why’d you called?”

You could hear some rattling in the background, indicating that Jessie’s fidgeting with something. “Just checking in.”

“It’s late. I thought you were already asleep.”

“I know, but I wanted to hear your voice. Maybe I can sleep better or so I could even sleep at all.”

“Oh Jess. What’s wrong?”

The Canadian gulps. “I have troubles sleeping these past days. With all that happened. I can’t have a proper meal cause I don’t have that much appetite and I miss you like crazy and… and…” she rambles on.

“And what? Trust me, I’m on your side.”

“It’s way too soon.”

“About what? Jess, bebe talk to me.”

She stays silent a few seconds before she clears her throat. “I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Jessie tucks on her earlobe. “Like a lot.”

“Yeah, me too.” You lick your lips, rubbing your forehead. “Look, Jessie. I don’t mean it in any bad way or so. With those new standings maybe, we should wait until all the stressful and anxious days are over to take the next step.” You let Jessie assimilate the information. “Those games aren’t how you imagined them and it’s a hard pill to swallow. But I’m with you. You are enough just like you are, Jessie, don’t forget. You’re perfect in any way. If it gets too much call me, I’ll always be here. Okay?

“Yes,” she mumbles into the phone.

“I’ve got an offer.” You don’t hear any answer. “Jess?” a soft sob is audible. “Hey, hey, Jessie, it’s alright. I got you. Do you listen to me?” the line stays silent. “Jessie?” worry grows in the pit of your stomach. “Hey, hey, Fleming, you’re not ignoring me, you understand?” you chew on your bottom lip. “I suppose you lay in your bed… it’s okay if you fall asleep, yeah. I’ll take that credit. Close your eyes for me, would you?” you give her a second to adjust her position. Soft sobs still lingering in the air as she shuffles under her blanket. “I’ll lead you through the opening try to put your phone behind you at best next to your ear.” A moment passes. “Okay. So, before we were let onto the boat, we had a really dope kinda party in our village. Oh, your little shy self would’ve wanted to burry yourself in the ground. It was even too much for me,” you let out a laugh and one side of Jessie’s mouth turns up, her sobs dying. “It was so loud and there were so many people I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was there for like half an hour and it was scheduled for two hours,” your voice a soft whisper. “Fast forward to our boat tour it was so humid. I send you a pic from before, right? Five minutes later I put them into a ponytail cause they were clutched on my skin. I think we were like three hours on this boat and I’m glad we could message this time otherwise I would’ve died of boredom. I small talked with Simone Biles, LeBron James just to name some. yeah, it was great but a special someone has been missed.” Jessie doesn’t respond, the only sound audible are steady breaths. You wander back into your room and cover yourself with the blanket. “If it’s not clear. I’d like you to be here by my side. To see you and to hold you. I can’t wait to see you again Jessie. Good night until tomorrow.”

Three days later your first game in the tournament was scheduled. Your opponent was the Chinese team, a favoured aspirant for a medal. The start was rough the Chinese women pressured and lead the play. Roundabout an hour into the game your team was down two sets, only one set for the Chinese squad to win. In a matter of time the tables have turned, and the teams were tied, leading to a last set which decides the winner. At the score of 8:10 for the Chinese your coach had to switch you out. Five points before your opponent at the net crossed the foul line so that you landed on her feet and your knee twisted, a pain shot through your leg, but you kept playing. You communicated with your coach, and he took a time out for your team to discuss the matter and how you’ll switch on the field. Your heart scattered as you limp to the sideline where your roommate and best friend stepped up next to the referee and took your place. She gave you a quick hug and reassured you, drying a tear that left your eye. On your way to the bench, you exchange high-fives with the team officials. Taking a seat the physio makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you. By the time you shield your face with your hands and every now and then you dry some tears with the hem of your shirt. In the end your team is defeated which is another heartbreak for you and another wave of tears escape you. Teammates huddle around you and embrace your shaking body. Shortly after you find yourself in the changing room getting ready to shower and put on your comfy clothes for the night.

“What did they say about your knee?”

“It shouldn’t be something serious, but they want to give me a break the next game and maybe the one after.”

“That’s promising.”

“Kinda. Hopefully it works out. If not, they want me to get examined.”

“Reasonable.” You just nod too exhausted and gloomy, only wanting to be in your bed and talk with a special Canadian.

“Hey gorgeous, how are you? You played so well.” You burry your face into the cushion, hiding the blush that grows. “Hey, hey, no hiding here, show me your pretty face.” Her chuckles fill the air, and your heart skips a beat. The past days Jessie’s quite outgoing, charming and offensive.

“Thank you I tried my best, but it didn’t work for us. I’m okay, I think.”

“It’s the thought that counts. Next time will be better. Oh Y/N.” Jessie’s eyes dart over your face. “Tell me.”

“Yeah hopefully.” you stop, a shaky breath escapes your lips, “I... it’s…”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s my knee.” You let out a sob. “It just happened and it.”

“But you played on. Were you already in pain?

“Not much, it was kinda unstable and stiff. I don’t know what you’ve seen.”

“At some point you were on the ground and then you stood up and played on. After a few points your trainer took the timeout.”

“For tactics. He sorted the team with the substitution he was going to make. The other player crossed the line and I landed on her foot and mine gave in twisting, and I fell, that was embarrassing.”

“Nothing about it is embarrassing. It’s not your fault and things like that can happen to anyone… I mean the falling, not the injury. How many times am I thrown to the floor or challenged?”

“But it’s part of your game.”

“Are you trying to make my argument unreasonable?” she lowers her eyebrows. “I dare you.”

“What if I do? Try me,” you giggle afterwards as she gives you an evil eye.

“You wouldn’t want that,” she winks at you while she licks her lips, a smug placing itself on them afterward. The heat creeps into her cheeks but Jessie ignores it, holding the stare at you.

You are the first to break the eye contact covering your face with your hands. A grunt finds its way out of your mouth, and you claps your pillow over your head. “Hey, hey, hey shooow youuurself,” the Canadian drags out and you can hear how she pokes her screen.

“Stop it,” you groan and roll your eyes when your face comes to display again as you set the pillow down.

She beams at you, eyes closed, and her nose scrunched. “What do you mean?”

“You being cheesy. A whole new side of you.”

“Oh, stop complaining. I know you like it.”

“How so?”

“Cause you’re still talking to me.”

“I really like this new confident, keep it Fleming.”

[vintagetvstars]

Avery Brooks Vs. James Earl Jones

Propaganda

Avery Brooks - (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Spenser: For Hire) - ben sisko absolute all time tv dilf and have you heard him SPEAK... the stage background absolutely shows and it truly makes him a standout in a legacy franchise *full* of incredibly talented people. also frankly top 3 all time sexy bald guy

James Earl Jones - (Paris, Gabriel’s Fire, Pros and Cons) - No text propaganda

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Avery Brooks:

Avery is a certified TV sci-fi hottie as Benjamin Sisko in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The first black star trek Captain, he also negotiated his signature look - the bald head and goatee - against haters who thought a Captain should always be clean-shaven. Thank God for that, because he looks devastatingly hot in a a goatee (a phrase never before uttered). He went on to direct several episodes of DS9, use his pleasant voice to record music and multiple host documentaries, and mostly retire from acting to teach as a professor.

TW: Flashing

with that wonderful stentorian baritone voice he could move from intimidating commander to gentle and compassionate space dad...benjamin sisko is a man of many qualities, thoughtful, morally complex, understatedly hilarious, a lil unhinged, really really excited about baseball, and avery brooks never fails to breathe life, depth and dimension into the character and also did i mention his voice. fun fact he was a professor of theater arts at rutgers while filming deep space nine and would occasionally teach classes via vhs tapes recorded on set, complete with starfleet uniform. he also directed a number of ds9 episodes including notable ones like "rejoined" and "far beyond the stars", and performed many of his own stunts as sisko. stunt coordinator dennis madalone said, "of all the stars that I've worked with on all the Star Treks, and all the other shows that I've been on other than Star Trek, I've never seen an actor so physically capable of just doing everything...every time I'd bring in a stunt double, he'd be angry, sitting on a bench, because Avery was doing so great." he's also a distinguished stage actor and an accomplished musician and singer who's performed everything from jazz to opera. science has yet to discover whether there's anything this man can't do.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

I Did This All For You - Rafe Adler X GN Reader

Title: I Did This All For You

Rafe Adler X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Nadine (Mentioned), Nate, Sam, Rafe's parents (Mentioned), Captain Avery (Mentioned), and Tew (Mentioned)

WC: 3,410

Warnings: Canon Uncharted 4 violence, very brief suggestiveness, italics, Rafe's obsession for the treasure, betrayal, brief heartbreak, weapons, guns/swords, death mentioned, mentions of blood/injuries, crying, fire, confession, cursing (one word), angst, and fluff

Everything had led to this moment: the lies, the risks, the impossible choice between love and survival. 

You had met Rafe at a truly extravagant party three years prior to the Avery disaster. It was a night filled with rich laughter and champagne. You had been drawn to him. Not by his money or his charm, which he had an abundance of, but because of the look in those seafoam eyes, a look that betrayed something far deeper than the polished facade he presented to the world.

At first, it was nothing more than flirtation. You teased him, he teased you. It became a game, one neither of you cared to really put a name to, but were both so eager to play. His sharp remarks were met with your quick comebacks, and though you often rolled your eyes at his arrogance, you couldn't deny the spark that ignited every time he smirked at you.

He wasn’t used to being challenged, and you weren’t used to letting your guard down, but something about him made it feel… Thrilling. The continued stolen glances, the lingering touches, the way his voice would soften ever so slightly when he spoke to just you… It was becoming more and more dangerous the more you spent time with him.

You told yourself it was harmless, that Rafe Adler wasn’t the kind of man you could fall for. But somewhere down the line, between the late-night rendezvous, wrapped up in his arms, his fingers in your hair, the way his lips felt against yours, all logic fled from your head. He made you feel things, and those feelings made you want to do anything to keep him close. To be selfish, just once, to take advantage of the feeling.

It stopped feeling like a game.

You saw pieces of him no one else did. The frustration he buries beneath his charm and the ache for something he could never quite reach for the past how many years. You weren’t blind to the danger of it all. Rafe was ambitious, relentless, determined, and wholly unpredictable. But when he asked you to come with him to find Captain Avery’s treasure, you couldn’t refuse. 

At first, it had been easy to ignore and brush off the growing red flags. His obsession with the treasure seemed driven more by pride than anything else - a way to prove himself to a world that never truly appreciated him. You understood. He had told you about his childhood, about growing up with a father who basically trained him to someday take over the family business, and a life where everything was handed to him on a silver platter. He wanted to prove himself, show that he could earn something for himself. You understood.

But as the journey went on - going from Paris, to Italy, Scotland, and then to Madagascar - you began to see the cracks. The long nights where his temper would flare, his focus shifting away from adventure and into revenge. The treasure wasn’t just a goal anymore - it was consuming him, and the man you had come to care for was slipping further and further away.

You tried to reason with him, to remind him that there was more to life than this. That there were other ways of getting recognition, other treasures to find. He would just smile, kiss your forehead, and assure you it would all be worth it in the end. But you could see it in his eyes… They used to be filled with so much amusement, affection, and ambition. But now, it was all madness and desperation.

And still, you stayed. Partly because you wanted to believe you could bring him back. Bring back the man that wouldn’t hide himself away in his office for hours. The man that used to laugh with you, smile with you, hold you close, and kiss you senseless. Was it wrong for you to wish for such things? Were they even real? You didn’t know anymore.

But despite everything, against your better judgment, you loved him.

And it scared you just how much you did.

~~~

Now, standing on the ship, surrounded by the gleaming and sparkling treasure that had driven Rafe to this point; madness… 

His voice echoed through the air, wild and taunting. “I told you, Sam,” He sneered, a smug grin pulling at his lips. “I told you I’d win. All this time, all that effort, and it’s mine now. Avery’s treasure is my treasure.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Sam’s gaze was hard, unwavering, “Nate will be here soon.”

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head as if the mere thought of Nate still standing a chance was laughable. “Huh, yeah, I don’t think so.” He kept his gun trained on Sam, “Nate fell from the cliff, remember?”

Sam didn’t back down, his voice calm but with an edge of frustration, “You ever wonder how Nate even got this far in the first place, Rafe? It wasn’t just from our knowledge.”

Rafe scoffed once more, in disbelief, looking at Sam incredulously. “Nadine? No, she wouldn’t have helped you.” He shook his head, “She wouldn’t do that. You know, my partners don’t betray me…” He cut himself off, his words trailing off as he slowly turned his head to face you. His eyes narrowed, “You,” He began, his voice quieter now, accusatory, “You’ve been helping Nate, haven’t you?”

You glanced at Sam behind Rafe’s shoulder, your stomach twisting, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no hiding it now. The truth had been exposed, and the man you tried to protect was staring at you with that look in his eyes - a look that sent chills through you. You had never seen him look so cold.

And you hated it.

“I-” You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice, “I did it for you, Rafe.”

Rafe’s laugh was low, guttural, and void of any amusement. He looked down, as if trying to process your words, before he snapped his eyes toward you. “For me?” He gestured his gun at himself, his voice laced with disbelief and growing fury. Before you could even blink, he was stalking toward you. You barely had time to react as he grabbed your arm and roughly pressed you up against the ship’s wall. “You were doing it for me?” His voice was deadly, dripping with venom. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, his breath hot against your face. His eyes, once filled with so many more positive things, were now empty, consumed with rage. The world seemed to slow down as he pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your temple. “After everything we’ve been through, after everything…” His voice was rough, low, each word clipped, “And this is how you repay me?”

He trusted you. He told you his secrets, his life. He let you in. He let down his walls for you. You were everything to him, and you betrayed him. 

You could only stare at him, heart racing, breath shallow. His finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger. Your eyes welled with tears, “Are you going to kill me, Rafe?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your voice surprisingly calm but tingled with heartbreak.

Rafe didn’t answer. His gaze, cold and unwavering, locked onto yours, but there was something else there now - something deeper, more conflicted. His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as if he were fighting something inside himself.

For a moment, his eyes flickered - just a brief flash - but you saw it. The man you knew, the man you had loved, was still there, hidden behind the madness and desperation. But then, like a flicker of a dying flame, it was gone, replaced by that icy determination.

He growled, a low, guttural sound, before his lips parted as if to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. His grip on the gun tightened, and for a split second, it seemed like he might lower it. You saw it in his eyes, the internal battle waging inside him. He still cared… He still loved you…

You held your breath, praying that whatever was left of the man you had once known would rise above the madness and the revenge, but before you could make sense of it, an explosion rang out.

And just like that, everything went black.

You woke with a start, coughing violently as smoke filled the room. Your eyes burned, and your vision swam as you struggled to sit up. Pain shot through your side, sharp and unrelenting. You pressed a hand to your ribs, the ache growing with each passing moment. It felt like a dream. You were disoriented, your body numb, but the fire around you was all too real.

You blinked through the haze of smoke, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to focus. The heat in the air was suffocating, but there was something else - sounds. The clash of swords echoed through the room. You turned your head, eyes widening as you saw the two figures at the far end of the room.

Rafe and Nate. They were locked in a duel, their swords flashing in the dim, smoky light. You let out another cough, your chest tight as you winced from the pain. Your gaze moved quickly to Sam, who was pinned beneath a large piece of wood. He was struggling to move, but the debris kept him trapped. 

You coughed again, a more desperate sound now, as you watched the two men fight. Nate was trying to talk to Rafe, pleading with him, but Rafe was so far gone. “Rafe!” You called his name, your voice cracking with urgency, but he didn’t even flinch. He didn’t even turn to look at you, as if you were nothing more than a distant echo, lost in the chaos of his anger.

You tried to push through the pain, pushing yourself up a little more, but your legs were shaky. Still, you couldn’t look away. The sound of their swords clashing grew louder, each strike more violent than the last. 

With a quick swipe, he pushed Nate aside, knocking him to the ground. “So long, Nathan Drake,” Rafe muttered, preparing to deliver the final blow. But before he could strike, he saw the cold steel of a sword pointed directly at his chest. Rafe froze.

His breath caught, his gaze flickering to the sword’s wielder. And there you were - standing, sword in hand, blood dripping down from a cut on your cheek, but your grip firm and determined. You could see the hesitation in Rafe's eyes, just for a moment, before it disappeared, swallowed by the rage again. But you held your ground, your chest heaving with effort. You weren’t going to back down. Not now. 

The air between you two thickened, every second dragging out as you locked eyes. His chest rose and fell, the tension in his shoulders visible even through the haze of smoke that filled the room. Your sword remained steady, pointed directly at him, though your free hand shook from the pain in your side.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nate struggling to push himself to his feet. He stumbled but made his way toward Sam, who was still pinned under the wreckage. Your focus wavered just for a second, but it was enough for Rafe to speak, his voice cold and dark.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" He sneered, his gaze hardened, his grip tightening on his sword. "Now, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Do you want to know why I did it?” You asked, and Rafe opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t give him a chance to answer. You took a step forward, your sword held steady in your grip, "I did it because I could see it, Rafe. I could see how this treasure... How it was taking over your mind. Consuming you. Corrupting you just like it did for Avery, just like it did for Tew. You think you're invincible, but you're not. This thing - this treasure - is ruining you. It's not worth it. There will be more adventures and treasure to find out there. You can give this one up." You paused, your breath shaky, and the words poured out of you.

“Y/N! The ship’s going down!” You heard Nate by the latch door, you ignored him.

"I wouldn’t have helped Nathan if it wasn’t affecting you like this. I did it for you. Because I care about you…" You took a step closer, holding his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "I love you, Rafe," The words trembling as they left you, "I love you so much that it scares me. I would do anything for you. Anything. But I can’t stand seeing you like this. It’s going to kill you.” You could physically feel your heart breaking as you continued, "You have two choices. One is to drop the sword, take whatever treasure you’ve already got, and go home. Or…" You trailed off for a moment, gathering the courage to finish your plea, "Or you can stay. And if you stay, I’ll follow you. I followed you to Paris, to Italy. To Madagascar. To this goddamn ship. Everywhere. And if I have to, I’ll follow you to the bottom of this ocean, Raphael. I’ll go down with the ship with you in it if that’s what it takes. I’ll be there. But you have to choose." You raised your sword once more, tilting your head slightly, "So… What will it be?"

For what felt like an eternity, Rafe didn’t move. His gaze remained locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment, his sword wavered in his hand. His expression was unreadable, a complex storm of emotions flickering in his eyes - anger, confusion, fear. You held your breath, unable to tear your eyes away. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, louder with every passing second.

Rafe’s eyes shifted toward the treasure, then back to you. His jaw tightened, his grip on the sword faltering slightly. He looked down at the sword in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. And then, he lowered it. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move - just stood there, staring at you, his gaze now softer but no less conflicted. A silent understanding passed between you. No words were necessary. It was in the way he exhaled, the way his shoulders slumped.

And then, without saying a word, he dropped the sword and turned. And you followed him. Wordlessly. As you walked toward the exit - propped open by Sam and Nate - the finality of the moment settled in your chest. The treasure, the madness, the violence - it all stayed behind. You didn't remember much from the boat ride back to shore. The motion of the waves was a quiet hum beneath the silence between you and Rafe. You were lost in your thoughts when your gaze drifted over to him.

Rafe sat with his back slumped, his eyes fixed on the burning wreckage in the distance. The flickering flames danced on the horizon, a reflection of the chaos that had once been his life. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move. It was as if he was trying to process everything. His expression was a mix of exhaustion, regret, and so much.

You noticed the small shake of his head, the way his eyes lingered on the smoke until it finally disappeared from view. Only then did he turn, his gaze meeting yours. The raw emotion in his eyes made your chest ache. It was the first time in so long that you saw him - truly saw him. You watched the shore get closer, the small boat gently rocking with the current as you neared the land. A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of exhaustion and relief. You stayed in silence, neither of you speaking, the only sound being the gentle lapping of water against the boat as you pulled up to the shore.

Finally, without a word, you silently moved beside him, sitting down next to him. He didn’t raise his head, his gaze still distant, eyes locked on the horizon. You didn’t need him to acknowledge you. You just needed to be there beside him. His hands, bloodied and raw from the fight, sat limply in his lap. You reached over, taking one gently into your own, your fingers tracing over the calluses, the rough skin. The warmth of his hand was grounding, steadying you, reminding you that he was still there. Alive. You were so scared that he was going to die on that ship. After everything…

You watched him, searching the side of his face. Your free hand slowly raised to brush his hair away from his forehead, fingers softly grazing the dark strands. You smiled sadly when his seafoam eyes met yours at the contact, eyes filled with so much, too much, that you couldn’t begin to unravel it all.

"It's going to be okay," You said, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady. "We’ll get through this. Like we always do. Together."

Rafe didn’t answer, but his gaze softened, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t seem so lost. The weight in his shoulders seemed to lift, just a little, but it was something. He stared at you for a long moment, his hand hesitantly raised, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed below the cut on your cheek, and both of you closed your eyes, leaning your foreheads together.

The world seemed to pause as your breaths synced, and in that fleeting silence, Rafe finally spoke.

"I never said it back."

You sighed softly, a small, gentle smile spreading across your face as you cupped his cheek in your hand. "You don’t have to say it right now," You whispered, the sincerity in your voice clear. "I know, Rafe, I know…"

For a moment, neither of you moved. The distance between you, so vast before, now felt small, barely there. 

~~~

It wasn’t instant. Healing never was.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks after the incident with Avery’s treasure that you started to notice the progress Rafe was making. It wasn’t huge, not all at once, but it was there. You could see how he was trying, and you were so proud of him. 

One of the first things he did, though subtle, was start showing up for you. He didn’t just give gifts, although he did that, too. The gifts were personal, thoughtful, not his usual fancy and expensive gifts, but a book you mentioned months ago, a piece of jewelry you admired in passing, a painting from a local artist you had said you loved. But more than the material things, it was his time that mattered most.

Rafe began taking you out of the house. He would plan small trips to places he knew you’d enjoy. Vacations that weren’t for hunting for treasure. Vacations that were for spending time with each other and relaxing. Breakfast on the Eiffel Tower in Paris, museum dates in Athens, admiring the Northern Lights in Iceland…

When he wasn’t whisking you away on small, romantic vacations, he was right there by your side, always looking for ways to be present. No more constant running off to his home office after work. Sometimes it was as simple as sitting with you on the couch, watching a movie with you. Or learning how to make your favorite dish together.

Then there were nights when he would pull you into his arms, holding you close, his hand resting against your back, fingers trailing along your spine, his lips gently brushing your forehead. Nights where your faces would be so close, that you could feel his warm breath ghost over your skin. Nights where he would press soft kisses to your lips, or your cheeks, or anywhere he could reach, leaving you breathless. It was then that he would whisper his apologies, sincerely, softly, surrounded by you, your love, and the darkness of your shared bedroom. For only you to hear. And, you knew his words to be true.

Rafe still had a long way to go, and so did you. The wounds were still there, scabbed over, but there was still hope. Hope for a brighter future, together.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Uncharted Masterlist

[webanglikethat]

A Different Kind of Valentine at Rosewood House

— or SIM-ply the best Galentine's day.

📝: word count: 1,146.

🎶: there’s glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before.

or — Simon and Jaynie make the best out of Valentine’s Day because love comes in different shades, and their friendship is their own kind of forever. ♡

the house was empty, which was uncharacteristically so. by now, Jaynie would’ve expected doors to be opened in a rush, sonorous chatter to be followed and linger on the couches and between the stairs, music to be played loudly (albeit, badly) and for the quiet that stuck onto the walls to be broken. but today, it seemed the house had been forgotten, and only her and Simon were left behind. Valentine’s Day usually came with empty houses after all; for lovers always flew away from their nests to show off their best characteristics in order to gain the most adored of luxuries; love. 

she'd heard that Logan was on a date with his ex — or was she his girlfriend again? she didn't quite know — and that Jasper and Avery had gone to the Vault for Jasper's performance. James was off to Paris and Tristan and Grant had respectively been quiet about their plans, leaving Simon and Jaynie to make up conspiracy theories about them — perhaps everyone being so lowkey about their plans was because of some secret agenda, and they were using Valentine's day as cover! or maybe it was a love cult they were secretly joining beforehand to then convince the rest. either way, it was suspicious. (was it?)

for Jaynie, this year it was different; between assignments piling up (till her lungs were unable to take a single breath without remembering the deadlines) and her familiar responsibilities tugging at her sleeves whenever she sat down to rest, Jaynie had had no time to even try and care about romantic relationships. she had never been properly asked out before anyway, so she wasn't feeling the absence of anything important or relevant. if anything, she was glad that she hadn't wasted money on some overpriced chocolate box that spelled out girlfriend or some bouquet of roses that would only last a week— truly, everyone should know that Chrysanthemums lasted longer!  

so instead, she had dragged Simon out of his room and declared it was the first official Galentine’s Day of the Rosewood House! cut to Simon asking how it could be Galentine if he was a boy and to her just shrugging his comment off.

they had quickly adorned the house with decorations left behind from their old parties — a disco ball neither of them remembered ever seeing, a happy birthday banner (with birthday now replaced with Galentine scribbled all over) and string lights from their New Year’s party now dangling over the door. it wasn’t much, but to them it was enough.

—

       the kitchen smelled like fresh dough and oregano, the oven humming as Jaynie dusted flour off her hands and reached for the papers. “you look like a ghost”, Simon remarked, to which she threw some flour at him in retaliation and said “at least I look sexy even in the afterlife!”.

he sat cross-legged on the floor, a deck of cards in front of him, eyes narrowed in deep concentration, as if it was a task to overcome, a kingdom to save.

“so… the goal is to get rid of all my cards first?” he repeated the question for the third time, brows furrowed.  

“yeah,” Jaynie said, grinning as she sat down in front of him and shuffled effortlessly. “but you also gotta pay attention, or I will kick your ass.”  

Simon huffed, already foreseeing the results, but mirrored her movements, his fingers clumsy compared to her practiced ease. she’d picked up a lot at the diner, she’d told him while they were convincing Esmeralda to take a day off — how to shuffle like a pro, how to keep a poker face even while losing (especially then), how to knead dough without making a mess (which Simon had failed at), how to shape pizzas perfectly (they'd made a heart) and how to keep herself entertained during slow hours so as to not drive herself crazy (if the customers didn't already). and now, she was passing it all on to Simon like a sceptre, like a source of wisdom for someone who had been hopelessly out of touch with these little joys. after all, what is a pack of card compared to the luxuries a rich guy can experience? what was the thrill of winning at a mere game compared to ski resorts and nights on a mountain? but in the dimly lit kitchen, as he failed to yet again shuffle his cards, leading to Jayne laughing and asking what was wrong with him, perhaps it wasn’t too bad. perhaps this is what he was missing all along.

—

‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎“okay, pizza’s ready,” she announced after her third triumph, standing up and brushing her hands on her jeans. she took the pizza cutter, holding it like a crown, “Sir Simon, would thee honour us by cutting this delicacy?”  

“depends,” Simon mused, rolling his eyes and laying down the treacherous cards that refused to help him win. “am I gonna get roasted if I mess it up?”  

“oh absolutely”, she grinned and he took the challenge.

they passed a joint between them while waiting for the cheese to cool, the warm haze of weed mixing with the scent of melted mozzarella. Jaynie leaned back against the couch, exhaling lazily as Simon tapped the ash into a ceramic dish.  

“you know,” he said, voice slow and eyes closed, “this is probably the first Valentine’s Day I’ve actually enjoyed. away from all those corporate shit they keep pushing down our throats and from my parents calling to ask whether I’ll come home with someone.”  

before Jaynie could respond, the door creaked open, and Lilian popped her head in, her signature smile painting her cheeks pink, with arms full of colourful sheets and bags of papers. 

“I come bearing gifts!”, she announced, kicking off her shoes, while a surprised Simon looked at her and said “I didn't know Santa comes early”.

Lilian laughed as she took off her coat, laying it on the couch, “Jaynie told me about your plans — which by the way, I shouldn't been notified ealier so I could've escaped brunch with my father — and we are so making this into a DIY night.”  

Jaynie smirked, reaching for another slice of pizza to give to her. “oh, you’re gonna love this, Simon. stickers are serious business. I hope shuffling prepared you for this.”

Simon groaned, but there was no real protest as Lilian plopped down beside him, dumping her supplies onto the floor. sparkly paper, glitter, and stickers now decorated the brown rug, and soon, their hands were covered, card games forgotten in favor of decorating random objects — Simon’s lighter and hat, Jaynie’s phone case and boots, even Lilian’s own arms.  

perhaps Galentine’s Day wasn’t so bad.

who needed Paris when the light of their smiles and constellations of their eyes shone brighter than some old red tower?

[atlasdoe]

Who are you're favourite fancas ts

HI!!!

fancasts are such a guilty pleasure of mine so imma give you my top ten (in no particular order

Minnie Mills as Emmeline Vance

Kaylee Kaneshiro as Juliette Wilkes

Andrew Garfield as Remus Lupin

(i will truly call Remus ugly (and mean it) while picturing this guy. like I find him attractive but the great people of Hogwarts may not) (i know im sorry im obsessed)

Johnathan Daviss as Benjy Fenwick

Paris Berelc as Alecto Carrow

Rachel Zegler as Septima Vector

Lorenzo Zurzolo as Edmund Avery Jr

Lovie Simone as Aurora Sinistra

Sabrina Carpenter as Dahlia Fleur-Peri

Olivia Rodrigo as Camelia Solis

Thank you so much for the ask <3

[eternamenteaudreyhepburn]

Audrey Hepburn photographed by Sid Avery in Paris during the production of Love in the Afternoon, 1956.

[octaviasdread]

i’m not a classics scholar but the vampire diaries makes so much sense in retrospect once i realised elena is a form of helen

she’s another loose ya take on a helen of troy/the iliad plot

damon initially compelled her to forget meeting him, but stefan (paris) steals the mortal elena (his post-katherine ideal of beauty) from the hands of mortality and her predestined doppelgänger fate

if stefan hadn’t decided that he ‘needed to know’ elena then she would’ve met and married her doppelgänger counterpart - tom avery - the symbolic menelaus of tvd

instead, elena is dragged into the immortals arguments, further bloodline curses, prophecies, and wars between an undead (olympian god-like) mikaelson family all because of her appearance

and mystic falls (troy) suffers the consequences of supernatural and immortal familial wars waged in their mortal town

while this last comparison is almost meaningless in terms of myth, i do want to note that after paris is killed, helen marries his brother deiphobus (damon?)

it’s been years since i watched the show so i can’t give more depth to this, but i saw tvd & euripides tik toks back to back and had a thought

there’s got to be something loosely homeric here even if the details are wrong. something something no story is ever truly unique

[mafiasliege]

The Proposal, Part 1

(hey guys! So I randomly had this idea of the JamesonAvery proposal so I thought to share it here. This is my first time writing a fic btw. Let me know how you feel about it. Also, it's in 2 or maybe 3 parts.)

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

Present Day

Jameson Hawthorne never gets nervous.

Almost all the time.

Almost.

"What did you do now?" Nash said, walking the line between his usual drawl and slight accusation. Apparently, he was the first one to have gotten Jameson's 911 and come to the tree house.

"What makes you think I did anything?" Jameson replied, but he knew why Nash would say so.

"We know you, and right now you look like you haven't slept in days." Xander said as he climbed in from the window. His brothers knew him too well. Even from behind him, Nash could immediately tell something was going on. Xander too.

"That's because I haven't." It was true. He was too excited in the plane back from Paris to sleep. And scared. The world was changing.

"Did sun rise from the west today?" Grayson said. His carefully calculated mask fell, he seemed too puzzled by Jameson's expression and continued, "you look... nervous." Jameson didn't bother replying. Everyone was here now.

He was going to tell them. Now. It seemed simpler in his mind.

Clearly not.

"Before you say anything, Jamie, this time, whatever you're about to tell us is not something that's going to stay in the tree ho-" Xander came to a halt abruptly when Jameson plunked down a ring box on the wooden table. Simplest way of getting it done was to rip the bandaid.

Either Jameson's brother were too shocked or they'd died standing.

"Is-Is that what I think it is?" Grayson was not-yelling by the difference of a hair. Jameson just nodded.

"Oh my god. Oh my GOD!" Xander tackled Jameson. Soon Nash and Grayson joined. The tackle hugs never got old. And something told Jameson that some things would never change.

Like his brothers.

They'll be here forever.

"You haven't even seen the ring!" Jameson said as Grayson pulled him up. He opened the deep green velvet box. Inside was a beautiful oval-shaped Emerald- a shade of green so captivating, as though it was daring you to try to look away. They couldn't.

It looks like Jamie's eyes, Grayson thought suddenly. Something told him Avery would think so too, afterall she'd probably spent ages looking at his eyes.

"It's gorgeous, Jameson" Nash said. "But you know I have to ask, do you think you're ready to get married? You're 22."

"Who said anything about getting married? Avery and I could stay engaged till we're ready."

He shot back, and realised too late what Nash had meant to ask.

Are you sure she's the one?

But Nash was smiling. They all were, actually. He'd said it so easily. So easily, it was like breathing. That's how certain be was about Avery. Nash had gotten his answer.

"Jamie…" Xander was looking at the ring. The inside of the ring. "It's engraved-"

"I know."

Nash and Grayson moved to Xander's side to see the ring.

SMG • AKG

"Where'd you get the ring?"

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

The day before

It was 9 pm. Nine in the cold, cold night of Paris. Jameson had waited seven months for this. Seven months of secretly tracking one small ring- a ring more valuable to his beloved heiress more than almost anything. It was a miracle that he'd been able to hid all of it from Avery. Tracking and finding the ring was hard enough, let alone getting the owner to sell it to him. What if they didn't. Luckily, it had ended up in an auction house.

First it went to Layla's pawn shop in Connecticut, then to a buyer in Washington, whose wife sold the ring during their clearly shitty honeymoon in Italy. From there it moved all across Spain, Scotland and finally, an exclusive auction house in France.

He could still remember their conversation during their second vacation to Tahiti all those months ago, sitting near his heiress on Te Pari, a cliff jumping spot.

She'd told him about what she read in one of her mom's letters, about an emerald ring her mom gave her on her 15th birthday. With their initials engraved. Apparently Toby had given it to Sarah as a gift when Avery was just a baby. He'd asked her to give it to Avery when she was old enough.

Of course, when she was old enough, her mother was dying of a rare disease, one that required very expensive treatment. So, poor 15-year-old Avery had to sell the ring in a pawn shop.

He remembered feeling like someone had stabbed him in the heart with a dagger. Avery could practically bathe in emeralds now, she even owned diamond and emerald mines. But she'd never get that ring back.

That's what she thought.

"Mr. Hawthorne" a very French voice snapped Jameson or of his thoughts.

"Mr. Laurent" Jamie shook the middle-aged, suit-clad Frenchman's hand. He handed Jameson a green velvet box, and Jameson handed him a balck envelope with a cheque.

"I'm surprised you came all the way here to get the ring. We could have brought it to you" Mr Laurent said. But then Avery would've known. He'd told her he was taking her plane to Scotland to check in on the upkeep of Vantage- his paternal family's castle that he'd won. Jamie checked the inside of the ring.

SMG • AKG

Yes. Yes yes YES.

"Worry not. I'm just glad to have it."

And he was. So much, he could only imagine how happy Avery would be.

Now the hard parts.

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

Present day

Grayson was the first one to break the silence after Jameson finished telling his story.

"When are you going to do it?"

"The day she came here,"

Jameson shot his brother the most Jameson Winchester Hawthorne smile.

"Tomorrow"

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

(Part 2 will come up soon. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks!! :))