#see mr darcy??

[elektrae]

Nanami owner of the slowburn friends to lovers 200k words they kiss in the final chapter trope

[wombywoo]

aftercare ❤️‍🩹

[dogzcats]

I did not expect to see you, sir.

[tossawary]

I was thinking about Fandom's Darlings recently because I encountered another case of "Yes, Your Ship Has Become Canon But At What Cost???" in the wild. Which is a mouthful, but I don't have a snappier name for these events in fandom yet.

It's when two characters get together in a story, but... their characterizations get destroyed in the process because the writers apparently 1) can't write solid romance (it's a specific skill!) and 2) also can't fit that romance into the broader story. Often, all of the supporting characters surrounding this shiny couple will ALSO suffer severe characterization damage to make this romance happen. And sometimes the larger plot and even the worldbuilding will also take hard structural hits so the story can focus on this GREAT PASSION that frankly just isn't... executed well.

Like, if a ship I dislike becomes canon, that's one thing, but if the writing for it isn't even semi-competent, that's worse!!! And the really insufferable part is actually the shippers who are not only popping bottles because their ship went canon, but will mock everyone who complains about the bad writing (or tries to earnestly analyze why exactly this conclusion sucks) as "bitter sore losers". I mean, the characters you profess to love have been turned into empty shells of themselves, the canonical partnership here is about as shallow as a puddle, and the integrity of this entire fictional world is on fire, but sure, you "won" this ship war. Congrats.

There is nothing else to do but move on, it's definitely not worth getting into it with anyone. But it REALLY sucks if you actually liked either of the characters involved or maybe even liked the ship itself, because then it's like... "I have been given an enormous cake, but it has been Poisoned. I cannot eat this, for I would choke on it. I have been Betrayed In A Fashion Most Vile." But everyone still sitting at the table tells you that you ought to be happy! At least you got some cake!

[shinehalley]

I think between the most common misinterpretations of Pride and Prejudice that irritates me the most i can say the one at the top is when they say that the story is about a woman fixing a complicated guy and this becomes references in terrible romances. I've heard this so many times and as a person who grew up with the 2005 film and reads the book at least once a year I need to get it off my chest.

Starting off, Darcy is not a "complicated man". He's not a bad guy who takes out his traumas on other people, he's not a guy who's waiting to be saved by a woman who "silences his demons" and even less a guy who mistreats the women he's with. Darcy is actually a rich man with rude manners and some class prejudices. The point is that Darcy is a man with moral convictions and feelings that make him a good man despite these aspects. His rude manners are a reflection of his class prejudice, but they do not dictate how he treats people for whom he has feelings of affection. The way he would be able to move the world for those he cares about and seek the closest thing to what is considered justice in the temporal context of the story reinforces the goodness of his character. This is even more evident in the comparison that is made between him and Wickeham, where one is unpleasant but good and the other is pleasant but a cheat.

And what Elizabeth does is far from correcting him. Darcy doesn't realize how his class prejudice affects the way he communicates with people and the view he has of himself because everyone always justifies his arrogance as fair because of his wealth. So he believes that Elizabeth admires him when, in reality, she despises him for these characteristics. And what she does is just say it to his face, something no one has done before, and that's it. This is Elizabeth's contribution to any development of Darcy, to say how arrogant and prejudiced he is. It is Darcy himself who reflects on her words and realizes that she is right and that he is not being as fair as he thought he was. He realizes his own prejudice and realizes his own arrogance and of his own free will decides to change because he wants to be a better and more pleasant person.

It could be said that it was fate that put him and Elizabeth in each other's path and made her realize, now with more pleasant manners without prejudices obscuring her actions, what a good man Darcy is and become enchanted by him. But if they hadn't met again, Darcy would still take on this challenge of re-educating himself and being a better person and Elizabeth would still continue to think of him as an arrogant man in whom she feels no interest.

The other issue is that Elizabeth is not perfect. She has her own prejudices that are overcome throughout the book thanks to her coexistence with Darcy and not because of Darcy. The fact that she lives with both Darcy and Wickeham at the same time is what makes her understand how unfair she was in her first impression and how foolish she was in being guided by that to define the characters of both. Kindness and amability are not synonymous with integrity and she learns this the hard way. It's a lesson that if she hadn't learned through her time with Darcy, she would have learned it in some other way because life has things like that.

Finally, they were essential in each other's lives because of the teachings they left to reflect on their actions in relation to the world and not because they depend on each other. Both are confronted with their prejudices and realize that they were not fair and try to change for better people regardless of whether they are together or not. Their meeting after realizing their errors in judgment is purely accidental. They don't change for each other, they change for themselves, because they realize how proud they were and want to be more fair, and after that they end up being placed back in each other's lives by chance. That's what makes them such an interesting couple and makes us wish we had what they have.

Reducing the story of Darcy and Elizabeth to an asshole man who is fixed up by a woman is a mistake so grotesque that it is noticeable that it could only have been said by a person who has never seen the story or seen it with their ass.

[anghraine]

This is unnecessarily long, but: I was just thinking about Wickham's predation on fifteen-year-old Georgiana Darcy and then, almost exactly a year later, Wickham's predation on sixteen-year-old Lydia Bennet.

There are obvious parallels between the two incidents. In fact, they're so obvious that I think the incidents are sometimes treated as equivalent, with the consequences only differing by happenstance. I don't think that's true, personally.

There are some mechanistic sort of differences—Wickham put a lot more effort and planning into the Georgiana situation. He wanted to marry her for her money and to make her brother suffer. She had to be isolated from people who would look out for her interests, he had Mrs Younge in place, he had known Georgiana as a child and was able to exploit his own previous kindness to her as her father's godson, etc.

And Georgiana, despite all of this, and despite being swept away by a teenage infatuation with an extremely attractive man, was still uncomfortable with it. She was worried about disappointing a brother who raised her and whom she deeply loves and admires. When her brother actually showed up by surprise, she decided to tell him everything; Darcy takes pains to give her credit for this. Adaptations generally downplay Georgiana's active decision-making here, but the only element of chance is Darcy deciding to go to Ramsgate at all. He insists that he was only able to act because Georgiana chose to tell him what was going on.

This isn't meant to be an indictment of Lydia, though. Does she admire the parents who raised her? No. But why would she? Especially why would she admire a father who treats her mother and sisters and herself with profound contempt and no sense of responsibility? Why would she ever confide in him?

It's not like Lydia doesn't confide in anyone. In fact, she too confides in an older sibling, her sister Kitty. And in one sense, her trust in Kitty is not undeserved. Kitty does keep the secret. Presumably, she does this because, despite her occasional annoyance with Lydia, she is very much under her influence and goes along with whatever Lydia does. Regardless, she is trustworthy in that sense. Moreover, we see at the end of the book that Kitty is easily improved by being placed in better environments and taught how to behave. She just didn't know better.

How was she going to judge Lydia's situation correctly? Who was teaching her to judge anything correctly? Certainly not their parents.

If Mr Bennet had bothered to interest himself in his younger daughters and try and influence them for the better, impressionable Kitty is probably the one who would have benefited the most. The whole Lydia/Wickham thing would have fallen apart before it went anywhere if all the girls had been been properly raised, even if Lydia did exactly the same things.

And Lydia likely wouldn't do the same things if she'd been brought up properly and, you know, treated with a baseline of respect rather than being openly mocked by her father, the person most able to affect her development. Instead, at barely sixteen, she's been continually rejected by her father, over-indulged by her mother, and flattered by adult men (28-y-o Darcy says he and Wickham are nearly the same age). And she still tells someone what's going on, even though she doesn't care about her parents' opinions or the consequences of her actions. And she was under the protection of a colonel and his wife at the time, who also could have told someone or acted, and didn't.

It's not that nobody could have done anything about the Lydia/Wickham situation. It's that nobody did until Darcy found out and tried to extract her. But it was, in one sense, too late. To Lydia, he's just some unfun acquaintance who says boring things like "go home to your family and I'll do what I can to cover for you." That is, he tries to do what he did for Georgiana.

But Lydia is not Georgiana—she did not choose to tell him about any of this. She did not want to be extracted because she didn't know and couldn't be quickly made to understand what marriage to Wickham would mean in the long term. And she didn't care what her family thought because she had no reason to, pragmatically or psychologically.

Georgiana, otoh, did care about her family's welfare and the good opinion and affection of the head of her family. But despite their radical differences in personality, the most fundamental difference between the girls IMO is that Georgiana had every reason to believe that disappointing Darcy and losing his respect would be a change from the norm.

Normally he is affectionate and attentive towards her. They write each other long letters, he defends her to other family members, and praises her frequently. Georgiana, quiet and intimidated though she may be, talks more when he's around. Disappointing him had actual stakes for her.

Put another way, the potential loss of his good opinion mattered to her because he's gone to the trouble of raising her as well as he can and forming a good relationship with her. She chose to tell Darcy the whole thing because he had earned her affection and trust in a way that Mr Bennet has utterly failed to do. Even Darcy happening to visit Georgiana at Ramsgate comes from his affection and attention to Georgiana's welfare, even if he couldn't have known what would follow from checking on his sister at that particular moment.

Chance is always part of life, and it's part of the novel and these situations. But a lot of how these scenarios wound out was not determined by chance but by long-existing patterns in these girls' educations and relationships.

[hycinthrt]

if theres is one thing i feel like the 2005 pride and prejudice movie did not come close to portray as well as the 1995 series did was how absolutely MORTIFYING the netherfield ball was. i have never felt so much second hand embarrassment watching a scene oh my god the whole thing was a mess and its supposed to be a mess because this, this was the reason mr darcy was so determined to get bingley the hell out of there

LIKE AHGSJDJDJDHDJ SO MANY THINGS IN THIS SCENE

every bennet family member doing their own embarrassing shit on their corner of the room, elizabeth going through the five stages of grief, darcy looking at everything with a face of complete horror, bingley giving uncomfortable side eyes while trying to keep his 😀 face. it was a train wreck, one of those scenes from a reality show where everything was going wrong

i love you you beautiful embarrassing painful scene

[bethanydelleman]

Searching for a Pride & Prejudice quote and I noticed something interesting about Elizabeth using the phrase "such a man"

“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good-humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? [Mr. Darcy] How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”

It vexed her to see him [Mr. Collins] expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder

In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man’s [Mr. Darcy] affection

Now she knows the truth about Wickham...

How is such a man [Wickham] to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!

“And they must marry! Yet he is such a man.” [Wickham]

"Such a man" switched from Darcy to Wickham, and is clearly Elizabeth's most derogatory way of thinking and speaking about a guy she dislikes.

Jane Austen did it again! Amazing.

(Edit: I got too excited, the middle reference to Darcy isn't derogatory, though I think the two top ones are, it's about Darcy's status. But I still find this fascinating)

[delineate-creates]

Day 6: Trek

[tooquirkytolose]

You know Matthew McFayden said working on a marvel movie was mind numbingly boring but I loved his silly little evil ass in the deadpool movie

[whenthegoldrays]

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part twelve]

Summary: Azriel frets over Eowyn's wellbeing. Gwyn delivers an unpleasant message.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: angst, yearning, self-deprecating talk, anger, worry, self-doubts

a/n: can't be a proper slow-burn without some yearning, right? sorry lovelies, we gotta go through Angst Road to get to Smut and Fluff Blvd. all i have to say is please go vote! and of course, rest in peace liam payne (rip my eternal hope that we'd see the boys together again at some point)

Minors, do not interact.

part eleven

masterlist

"But she once fell through the street

Down a manhole in that bad way

The underground drip

Was just like her scuba days

Days

Daze"

Interpol, Stella was a diver and she was always down

He goes four nights without seeing her.

Three days and four nights of prowling the entrance to the library, of having his shadows slither down to investigate and report on her progress. Three days of not seeing her, and although Cassian tried to console him with the reminder that he’s gone longer without seeing her when he goes on long missions, his brother is well aware that it isn’t the same and with a single look from Azriel, pointed and unfaltering, he doesn’t try to bring it up to him again.

All the waiting and the worrying and the asking, the begging for the smallest crumbs of information from any priestess that came into his path (that of which was usually Gwyn, who blessedly went directly to him to report on Eowyn’s wellbeing), was torture for him.

And Azriel knew torture. Knew it quite literally like the back of his marred grotesque hands.

He doesn’t sleep that night, the first night. Didn’t sleep much the other three but that first night, after the priestesses kicked him out and he was ‘persuaded’ to leave the library altogether with Rhys’s logical reasoning and Cassian’s… physical cajoling, he allowed them to move him only as far as the entrance to the library leading up to the House of Wind and then he stayed there, alone and in silence, awake the entire night. 

His shadows, finding it easier to sneak through, didn't even confirm with him before going down to look after her at their own accord before he could even think about sending them out to do it, and they stayed by her side to relate to him everything that happened to her.

That is, until he considered that what he was doing was an invasion of her privacy, so he retracted them much to their (and admittedly his) chagrin and he remained there, fretting and pacing, murmuring to his shadows and to himself. He found he could not sit longer than two and a half minutes without feeling frantic energy build within him, and sleep came to no avail. Throughout that time, he finally took Cassian’s invitation to stay at the House of Wind, if only to wash and get his meals, in the rare occasion he remembered to eat.

The second day went by much the same but he had the entirety of the day to consider not only the turn of events in the apothecary and what the herbalist revealed, but particularly her words as she was having her episodes. While still herself, she told him not to pay any heed to her words yet how was he supposed to forget her pained cries?

Her voice echoed through his mind.

“B-but I did! I swear it ada*, I did! I mended every single one of your— no no, ada, please!”

The things the shadows managed to capture while still inside only got worse in nature. The first words she had spoken in his ear, however, those words spoken in another language echoed through his mind day and night. The frustration at not knowing what they meant was driving him half insane. On the third day, after hearing from Gwyn that she was doing much better, now seeming much more lucid— he had admittedly sniffed derisively at that but made no further comment— he took to the skies and paid a quick visit to his brother.

Without any hemming and hawing he went straight to the point. “I need you to translate something.”

Rhys was quick with it, immediately breaching past Azriel’s lowered mental walls to dig his talons to peer inside. Azriel freely offered him the memory, not lingering on the details he wanted to keep only to himself, like the feel of her soft supple body in his arms, and the way she’d dug her face in his neck and inhaled, consequently bringing her so close to his face that he could do nothing but freely bask in her scent himself.

Clearly guessing where Azriel’s train of thought inevitably trailed off to, Rhys didn’t linger long inside Azriel’s head but didn’t offer the answer with the immediacy Azriel was seeking.

“Well?” He pressed in a manner that was more natural to Cassian.

“It’s a very ancient tongue. One I thought to be extinct long ago,” Rhys answered at last. “I’ll need to ask Amren.”

“There’s no time,” Azriel hissed, running a hand through his hair, “she won’t be here until next week.”

“Amren arrives today,” Rhys raised an eyebrow, his own violet eyes scanning Azriel in concern. “Have you slept at all, brother?”

Azriel dismissed him. “There’s no time,” he repeated under his breath. With shadows furling faster around him, he turned to leave.

“I’ll let you know what I learn,” is the last thing he heard from the High Lord before he stepped into his shadows back to the House of Wind’s entrance to the library.

By the fourth day, his shadows— disobedient things that they were— reported back that Eowyn’s seizing visions were becoming few and far between and she was now resting, reading and conversing with Clotho and Gwyn. After he’d made sure that Eowyn was faring better, he accepted Nesta's insistence for him to have dinner with her and Cassian, only to have Gwyn herself step into the kitchen as they ate.

He startled when the young priestess stepped in, however, heart in his throat at the thought of something happening to Eowyn in the ten minutes he’d been away. “Is everything-“

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she blushed shyly and the way she carried herself spoke of curious trepidation, not the concerned urgency he feared. She did, however, seem rather tired and he found he was endlessly grateful to her for caring for Eowyn in a way he couldn’t do. In a way Clotho hadn’t allowed him to.

(It sent a sharp shooting pain through his chest to consider that it was Eowyn herself who hadn't wanted him there; that she didn’t trust him to stay at her side after the long months of spending almost every day together, of having gotten to know each other so intimately. It was easier to blame Clotho for not allowing him to stay. The alternative left him with a feeling that was too raw and ugly to consider at the moment.)

“You’re not,” Nesta said mildly, if a touch concerned herself. “Everything okay with Eowyn?”

“Oh yes, she’s doing much better,” Gwyn assured them quickly, “she’s been reading dreadfully boring old texts all day about minerals or rocks or something, so you know that means she’s pretty much back to normal.”

Cassian and Nesta immediately invited her to sit and eat with them, which she did after a brief moment of hesitation. “I mostly just came up to let you guys know the good news and deliver a message from Eowyn saying that she’ll join us tomorrow morning, but she won’t be able to stay for training with Azriel,” she gave Azriel a quick pout as if to emphasize her point. He chuckled lightly at the sight, feeling a heavy weight lift off his shoulders at the certainty of seeing Eowyn the following morning. The pang of disappointment that shot through him at not being able to see her during their session together was immediately quelled by the reminder that she still had to take it easy and recuperate after such a dreadful episode– which inevitably led to the reassuring thought of spending that time with her anywhere else for the day, taking care of her if she allowed him to. “For some time.”

It took him a second to understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Gwyn swallowed nervously, “we were talking about training and how she’s doing much better now. Remember Cassian? When you mentioned last session how she can start training with Em and Nesta and I? And well, she-“ she continued to ramble, speaking quickly, “well she thinks that since she’s pretty much caught up now, she doesn’t have to stay after and train with you anymore.”

“She doesn’t get to decide when she’s caught up,” he hissed through his teeth, incredulously, still trying to wrap his mind around her words. He narrowed his eyes, unbelieving, “and why doesn’t she tell me this herself?”

“Well she said she would, but thought it would be a good idea if I just… told you, while you're here,” she blushed again, looking up at him through her lashes. “She… well, she insisted she doesn’t need to train as much anymore.”

He pursed his lips in annoyance, but tried not to let it show as he considered Gwyn’s words, still reeling. He zoned out for the remainder of his quick dinner, too lost in his head as he considered Gwyn’s announcement, spoken with such nonchalance that he couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

Still, the more he considered that, the more he considered the way Eowyn had so viciously attacked the herbalist and the more he thought about that, the more he thought about the herbalist’s revelation. 

She said that Eowyn was a witch, and had Eowyn tried to deny it at all? Now that he thought about it, he realized she hadn’t, but she hadn’t confirmed it either. Had she lied right to his face when she talked about her abilities?

He felt his mind begin to clear now that the concern for her wellbeing was wearing off. He considered everything that had happened since he came back from his mission to find her stomping through the streets of Velaris, seeming angry and unlike herself. He hated himself for not having considered telling Rhysand about the herbalist’s accusation.

Witches were extinct. Those that were rumored to survive the Great Witch Purge, lived in the far reaches of the Middle, where they practiced all sorts of dark magic and were rumored to hate all faeries, but were known to consume their blood to be able to access their magic.

Witches were typically considered evil beings by all species, but most importantly, they were known to be extremely powerful. 

Rhysand, however, was never the type to believe the stereotypes applied to different creatures, an Illyrian and Shadowsinger like himself included, and knew better than to believe the necessary facade of dark infamy and notoriety in order to survive in this world as a powerful creature, lest they be hunted down to be enslaved and used for barbaric acts.

To have a witch under one’s control would be just as dangerous, if not more, as having access to the Cauldron itself.

Rhys had never expelled nor hunted a witch himself, but it wasn’t in his nature to outright mistreat or deny a being that could be a possible ally, as well as an equal.

For only the briefest of instances– born out of centuries worth of friendship, of fraternal familiarity, acceptance, and love for his brother– he considered telling Rhysand about the accusation made against her.

But he wouldn’t tell his brother about Eowyn, he realized grimly. Both ashamed at himself for withholding possibly valuable and integral information that could strengthen their Court and the general citizens of all of Prythian; and ashamed by even considering betraying Eowyn’s trust before he could even have the opportunity to speak to her about it first.

If he slept at all that night, it was sparse and filled with dark and tortuous nightmares of his family hating him. The thought of Eowyn hating him left a sinking empty void in the center of his being that stole all sleep and breath away from him altogether.

When he woke up hours before the break of dawn, having dreamt of her briefly, an entire audience of hers, laughing at him as he opened up and shared with her a part of himself that he didn’t think worthy of sharing with anyone else, his guilt and grief turned into simmering anger.

So when he saw her the next morning, wearing a covering that revealed only her eyes, he approached her and asked, “how are you feeling?”

“Much better,” her voice was calm and neutral, lacking both the usual teasing lilt and the anger and desperation of the last time they’d spoken. “Thank you for bringing me back to the library. And for asking for me while I was indisposed.”

The way her voice came out emotionless, formal, and cold while her eyes looked just as dark and beautiful as ever— even rested, for once— pissed him off even more.

“Good,” he snapped and turned away from her, refusing to watch as she walked over to her usual spot and decided, at that moment, to not look at her at all for the rest of the session. Still, he was always aware of her presence and as his shadows reminded him, they had not promised to look away from her, so he knew, even without looking at her, that she trained in unfaltering unison with the rest of the priestesses. 

Two things happened during that session. First was the feel of Rhys talons in his head as his research finally paid off; then came Eowyn’s impressive but entirely unsurprising achievement, for she was a natural warrior and she had made great success in the months they had trained together. 

Failing to remember his resolution to not look at her, he watched her in complete open awe– as expressive and adoringly as a stoic and unemotional male like him could show.

In an effortless and perfect stance, she stood before the pole with a familiar light-consuming obsidian dagger held in an offensive hold above her head, hips and feet positioned perfectly, knees bent at just the right angle.

At the end of that morning session, the morning after she’d had someone else tell him she didn’t need him any more, Eowyn cut the ribbon. 

While he was indescribably proud of her achievement, the act was like a slap in the face. 

As if the Cauldron or Fate or the Mother herself were sharing a laugh at his expense, her action only reinforced the words Rhys had translated in his mind earlier in the day: I will never cede.

—

After training, as all the Valkyries filed out of the training ring and back into the library– Eowyn among the last few who happily celebrated her successful cut– he called out her name.

She pretended she didn’t hear him. 

His irritation was only fuelled by Cassian’s knowing look and understanding pat to the shoulder before taking off into the skies to offer Azriel some privacy.

As soon as his brother took off, he tried to call Eowyn’s name again but despite it catching the attention of a few priestesses, Gwyn among them, who quickly turned to Eowyn and nudged her, Eowyn did not stop.

He hadn’t taken her for a coward. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Beyond annoyed at that point, Azriel sent off a few shadows to cinch around her waist and stop her from going further, even pulling her back a little.

The surprise in her eyes was brief before her face fell back into cool neutrality. The sight of it pissed him off so much, he finally understood his family’s frustration at him when he schooled his features back into place.

She waved at the others to continue without her and then turned to him, her gaze blazé and unlike her.

“Didn’t Gwyn tell you?”

“Tell me what exactly,” he bit, wanting to hear it from her.

“I won’t be able to stay and train with you after our group sessions anymore.”

It was a simple statement of fact, and the way in which she said it, so nonchalantly and unbothered, had his cool anger boiling in his veins, fueled by the hurt in his chest.

“Why?”

She looked away then, but not for long. She observed him quietly for a moment, seeming to be thinking of how to form her words. “I just… don’t think I need it anymore,” he saw it coming yet it still struck him- this time in the pit of his stomach, “the main reason why I accepted the extra training was to wear off some of the excess energy I felt, but I’m doing better now, now that it’s all over,” she waved her hand casually, as if her being so ill and delirious for days was a normal occurrence.

“You’ll have questions, I imagine,” she tilted her head and he felt how she watched him, taking him in. He wondered if she smelt or felt the anger rolling off of him, if she knew of the growing desire and necessity for her. She didn’t let him reply to her, merely shook her head, “it’s not a good time right now-“

“Don’t you dare-“

“I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she interrupted him. She looked to the stairs and sighed before turning back to him. “Are you free tonight? For dinner?”

His heart leaped to his throat, “yes.”

She nodded, “Nesta and Gwyn, they… they have a dinner planned tonight. You’re welcome to join.”

He deflated slightly at that, disappointed it wouldn’t be just them. Another thought struck him, however, for how would she eat if her face was covered? 

With a kindled excitement he managed to control, he nodded to her, releasing his shadows from her waist to let her go. “I’ll see you tonight.”

*ada is elvish for father in tolkien’s lotr’s lore. all credit goes to him. he is, of course, a great inspiration of mine

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel , @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland , @adventure-awaits13 ,

[raisedbythetv89]

Two of the worst proposals in the history of modern media followed by the most pathetic cringe fail loser puppy dog eyes when their absolutely abysmal attempts at saying “I love and want only you” fail miserably and unfortunately for me I desire both of them carnally

bonus: they even both hit this pose after being knocked on their ass during said failed proposal attempt

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

there's a high quality rip of deadpool and wolverine out there somewhere and you guys still haven't bestowed upon me a gifset of Disheveled Soot-Covered Tom From Succession. so like. what's that about

[rolansrighthorn]

I have a hot take about Gale:

He is not Mr. Darcy coded. Mr. Darcy is too tsundere. Gale is more golden retriever coded aka Mr. Bingley coded.

[muuuumin]

Tim: Have you gotten everything for this week's groceries, Jay?

Jason: :) even better! :) I got something new! :)

Tim: .....

Tim: It better not be another dog, Jason.

Jason: His name is Soup.