#thank queue kindly

[gayvecchio]

Just a few F/V vid recs for dS30below!

[rebelrebelwrites]

So Morgoth is Rachel Berry

Interesting

My BIGGEST pet peeve when it comes to Tolkien is how people will sometimes characterize Melkor’s rebellion as being about him wanting to do his own thing and rebelling against Illuvatar’s oppressive sheet music.

THERE WAS NO SHEET MUSIC!  Illuvatar wasn’t forcing anything.  The Ainulindale was improv.  Illuvatar just gave them the theme, the idea, the feeling, the starting point.  The Ainur were drawing inspiration from the thought of Illuvatar, sure, and so long as they were in harmony the music played precisely as Illuvatar intended because Illuvatar had created them and knew how they worked together.  But the music of the Ainur before Melkor’s dissonance was quintessentially creative, as well as corroborative.  It was spontaneous, perfect harmony of free individuals perfectly in tune with each other, whose improvisations were constantly building upon each other.

Melkor’s rebellion was not about asserting his freedom of expression, because his expression was already free.  Instead it was explicitly about making his own voice louder and more important than anyone else’s, and subjugating the creativity of others to instead convince or force them to follow him exactly in repetitive unison.  And so, when Melkor’s goal became drown everyone else out, instead of make beautiful music together, his music became less creative, less innovative, and less his.

So it kind of annoys me when people talk about Melkor like he’s all for freedom of expression when he’s pretty much the opposite of that.

[bird-hours]

can i have a cockatoo please. . . silly destructive noisy little guy…

you absolutely can have a cockatoo !!!!!

[restlessmaknae]

tag game - describe your most interesting love story as if you were making a fic

Tagged by: @tranquilpetrichor​ (thank you!)

Tagging anyone who feels like doing this! *-*

Truth to be told, my love life is practically non-existent, but since I was oh so kindly tagged and it seemed fun, I’ve decided to go with the could-be love story of mine.

genre: childhood sweethearts to strangers, middle school & high school au, real-life bittersweet

wc: a decent 10k to sum up all the years that we’ve known each other

warnings: life happens and we don’t end up together, also throw in some insecurities and uncomfortable my-sister-flirts-with-this-guy scenes and there you have the story

[skolirethm]

he's so!!!!

saw one reddit post and a comment

(my twitter)

[r0ugesun]

Ehem, heard you wouldn't oppose an Addam Velaryion request sooo...

Reader storming into Dragonstone demanding to see Addam because last thing he heard he was on the beach collecting oysters, he's been gone for three days and someone just told her the Black Queen got him into her castle.

I can picture reader elbowing her way through the long queue of possible-dragonseeds bc 'Someone told me my man is there and I'm not leaving without him!'

Thank u sm anon, for requesting for Addam! There’s not a lot of content for him, and I absolutely love him 😫 Your idea was so cute, If you have any more ideas or requests, feel free to share :>

Synopsis: When y/n’s husband, Addam, is taken to Dragonstone and days go by without a word, she defies all obstacles to reunite with him.

Adam valeryon x wife!Reader

The air was thick with tension as the line of hopefuls stretched down the rocky path leading to the great hall of Dragonstone. Men and women, some with the telltale silver hair of Valyrian descent and others merely hoping for a stroke of luck, waited with bated breath for their chance to prove themselves as worthy dragonriders.

y/n pushed through the crowd, her eyes blazing with determination. She had heard from the longshoreman that her Addam had been taken to the Black Queen’s castle. Three days he had been gone, three days riddled with anxiety and worry and she had had enough of waiting.

“Move aside!” she barked, elbowing her way through the queue. “I don’t care about your dragons, they’ve taken my man here, and I’m not leaving without him!”

Heads turned, and murmurs followed in her wake as she forced her way to the front. The queens guards at the entrance, imposing in their armor, exchanged glances before one stepped forward to block her path.

“Who are you to demand entrance to the Queen’s hall?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“I’m y/n” she declared proudly, drawing herself up to her full height. “And I am here for my husband Addam. The last I heard, he was collecting oysters on the beach when he was taken. If he’s in that castle, I will see him now.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed, but he did not move. “The Queen does not take kindly to interruptions.”

“And I do not take kindly to being kept from my husband” she shot back, her voice steady and unyielding. “You can let me in, or I’ll force my way in”

The queen’s guard laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. “And how do you plan to do that, little lady?” he mocked, his grip tightening on his spear.

Her eyes flashed with anger as she took a step closer, her presence almost daring. “You underestimate me,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “I am not without my own means.”

Before the guard could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall. Jace and Baela appeared, their expressions a mix of concern and authority. Jace stepped forward, his voice carrying the weight of his position. “Let her through, now.”

The guard hesitated, his eyes darting between y/n and the approaching couple. “Prince Jacaerys, Lady Baela, the Queen’s orders were clear—”

“And so are mine” Jace interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She is his family and has every right to see her husband. Stand down.”

Baela nodded in agreement, her presence equally commanding. “Do as he says. This isn’t a request.”

Reluctantly, the guard stepped aside, his grip loosening on his spear. Y/n offered a grateful bow to Jace and Baela.

“T-thank you, Prince Jacaerys, Lady Baela” she said softly.

The tension hung in the air for a moment before the guards reluctantly stepped aside. y/n wasted no time, striding into the hall with her head held high. The sight that greeted her was one of majesty and power, with the Black Queen standing proudly, flanked by her advisors.

Rhaenyra acknowledged Jace and baela and then her eyes locked onto y/n, a mixture of curiosity in her gaze. “And who might you be?”

“I…I-I’m y/n your grace” y/n replied, meeting the Queen’s gaze, she exuded an aura of grace and an otherworldliness that made y/n falter . “I was told my husband Addam was taken here…. It’s been days and I wish to see him….”

A murmur ran through the hall, making y/n think the worst had happened. After a tense moment, Rhaenyra gestured to one of her guards. “Bring him forward.”

y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited, her eyes never leaving the large door. When Addam appeared, looking tired but unharmed, she felt a surge of relief.

“Addam!” she called, rushing to him. He looked up, his face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and joy.

“y/n” he breathed, pulling her into a tight embrace. “How did you—”

“Never mind that,” she interrupted, holding him close. “We’re leaving. Now.” She whispered in his ear.

“No, wait” he said softly, holding her by her waist and looking into her eyes. “I must explain….. Seasmoke, the dragon we’ve seen flying over town claimed me as his rider. The queen herself insisted that I come to Dragonstone, and I had little choice in the matter. I am sorry I did not send word to you sooner.”

y/n’s anger softened slightly as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You could have found a way to tell me” she said, her voice trembling.

“I know, and for that, I apologize truly my love” Addam replied earnestly, kissing your forehead. “It all happened so swiftly, But you’re here now…with me, we can face whatever comes next together.”

Rhaenyra watched the reunion with a faint smile. “It seems love has a way of breaking down barriers” she remarked. “to ease your worries, I insist that you stay here on Dragonstone with Addam. Your presence will provide him with the strength he needs, and it will ensure that I can keep a close eye on him and seasmoke.”

y/n hesitated, looking to Addam for his thoughts. He nodded reassuringly. “It would be a great relief to have you here with me” he said.

After a moment, y/n nodded. “Very well, Your Grace. I will stay.”

Rhaenyra inclined her head. “Good. We shall provide you with quarters to accommodate you both. Welcome to dragonstone”

With that, y/n took Addam’s hand, feeling the weight of uncertainty lift from her shoulders.

Y/n and Addam followed the guard through the winding corridors of Dragonstone, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. As they walked, Addam squeezed Y/n’s hand, a silent promise of safety and reassurance.

"Are you truly okay?" Y/n whispered, glancing up at him.

Addam nodded. "I am now thanks to you. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through to get here."

Y/n gave a small smile. "I would have torn the castle down stone by stone if it meant finding you."

They reached a set of ornate double doors, and the guard pushed them open to reveal a spacious chamber. The room was furnished with rich tapestries and plush furniture, a stark contrast to their modest home by Spicetown. Their cozy cottage, nestled near the ocean, was filled with simple wooden furniture, worn woven rugs.

"These are your quarters" the guard announced. "The Queen has ordered that you be given the best accommodations. If you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you" Addam replied, guiding Y/n into the room.

Once they were alone, Y/n sank into one of the chairs, the adrenaline of the past few hours finally catching up to her. “Mmm too rich for my blood I think, I’m gonna miss our little home, salt air and the rust on our door” y/n said chuckling. Addam knelt beside her, his hands gently cupping her face.

"I'm so sorry for the fear and worry I caused you" he murmured. "But now that you’re here, I feel like I can truly face whatever the future holds."

Y/n leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. "As long as we’re together….. But what happens next? What does Rhaenyra want with you and…. ‘Seasmoke’?"

Addam sighed. "She’s going to reclaim the iron throne, and having more dragonriders loyal to her cause is crucial. I’ve been tasked with joining her forces, which means we’ll be drawn into the conflict between her and the Greens."

Y/n’s eyes widened. "You?? Fighting their war? Addam, this is more dangerous than I imagined."

"I know" he said, his voice heavy. "But I have to do this. For our future, for our children’s future. We can’t let the realm fall into chaos."

Y/n reached out, taking his hands in hers and placing it on her stomach, she didn’t have a belly yet but her and addam were sure she was with child. "Then we face it together. Whatever comes, I’ll stand beside you… always."

The days that followed were filled with preparations. Addam trained rigorously with Seasmoke, while Y/n found her place among the castle staff and the other dragonriders' families. She quickly gained the respect of the household with her determination and resilience, earning a reputation as someone not to be underestimated.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the island, Y/n stood on the balcony, watching Addam and Seasmoke in the distance. The bond between dragon and rider was evident, a testament to the strength and courage that ran through Addam’s veins.

Jace approached her quietly, joining her at the railing. "He’s an impressive rider" he commented, his gaze following Addam and the dragon. "And you, Y/n, are just as impressive. It takes a strong person to stand by his side through all this."

Y/n turned to him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I love him, Prince Jacaerys. That gives me all the strength I need. But this war...it’s going to test us all."

Jace nodded, his expression somber. "It will. But with people like you and Addam, I believe we have a chance. My mother sees that as well, which is why she values your presence here."

As they spoke, a roar echoed across the castle grounds, signaling the end of Addam’s training session. Y/n watched as he dismounted Seasmoke, his figure outlined against the setting sun. She felt a surge of pride and love.

The days turned into weeks, and the bond between Y/n and Addam only grew stronger. They found moments of solace amidst the chaos, stolen kisses in hidden corridors, and whispered promises under the stars. Y/n’s unwavering support gave Addam the courage to face his new role, while Addam’s determination and love fueled Y/n’s resolve to stay by his side.

[paperibbon]

ink stained hand (will you hold it?)

chapter i: bookstore girls pairing: poly!feysand x reader series sum. A bookseller’s simple life turns upside down when she becomes fast companions of the Night Court’s Inner Circle. When she develops feelings for the most powerful couple in Prythian, how will she get over the golden thread of fate that pulls them ever so far apart?

The sun was high in the sky, and the sweat stuck to the back of your shirt with a vengeance, plastering the material to you like a second skin. As forgiving and endearing as summer was, children laughing in the streets, people bustling about in sheer, bright colors, the heat could be killer.

Especially waiting in lines like these. 

The queue snaked around the block, everyone from fae that lived on farmland outside of Velaris, to shopkeepers, to families of all shapes and sizes. You’d thought the heat might thin it out a bit, maybe send some people to find shelter and shade, to stand in front of an icebox maybe; but alas. It was just as long as it was a few hours ago. You clutched the papers you’d written up months prior to your chest, lifting your hair from your neck in an attempt to elicit some sort of cooling effect.

You, like many, many others were grateful to your High Lord, and newly minted High Lady for these meetings. Even if not everything was fixed, most people walked out with a respect you were sure you couldn’t say other courts held for their rulers. And the papers you’d slaved over, finding just the right words to propose your idea, well, you hoped they’d hear you out, if nothing else.

Smoothing down the front of your skirts, you surveyed the people in front of you. Three bodies. Three people. Three more appointments to suffer in the heat until you were face-to-face with people who could grant your dreams, or crush them kindly in their fists. Your heart stuttered, thick, humid air winding its way through your nose, and out. Two. Then, the curly haired fae with a sour expression on her pale blue face that had stood before you for the past three hours marched into the heavy open doors, and you were twisting your fingers in flighty anticipation. You couldn’t hear her voice, even at your proximity, and it relieved something in you to know that this wouldn’t leave this room. Your sorry request, your whimsical fantasy would stay stuck in the air between your High Lady, High Lord, and you.

The guard positioned at the gate gave you a wry smile, a rosy hue to her cheeks, the sweat slicking her orange hair to her brow. You were sure you looked similar, frazzled and sweaty, sickeningly anxious and delighted all at the same time.

“You’ll be fine.” Her voice was accented lightly, like nothing you’d ever heard before. You grew up here, in the Night Court, barely a child when Amarantha terrorized the land, now, a fully grown female with stars in her eyes.

You nodded your thanks. She simply smiled wider.

When the doors opened again and the fae from before walked out, a wind flirted across your cheeks curling in your hair. A greeting.

“First door on your left. Can’t miss it.” A smooth wink, and the door thumped shut behind you. 

The marble tiling was smooth, dark, and flecked with silver. How Night Court. You couldn’t stop your head from swiveling as you traversed the hall, ornate art hung on either side, a show of wealth, of power. You recognized some of the scenes, the High Lady fearlessly facing off against Hybern’s forces at the Rainbow, the Night Court’s general sweeping low onto the battlefield, the Lady’s sister, fearsome, cloaked in silver flames like a phoenix. Your eyes shifted towards the open doorway, thick wooden carvings of an animal you couldn’t place, scales expertly carved, fangs and talons almost as sharp as you’d imagine the creature carried in real life. Absently, your hand curled around a claw jutting from the frame, the stable wood almost warm beneath your fingers.

“Admiring the woodworking?” A soft voice cut through the silence, and you turned, abruptly, eyes wide. 

“I’m so sorry.” You stuttered, the words falling out without a thought. The High Lady was standing, a stunning lilac dress tailored to her form, golden and silver stars stitched delicately in sporadic patterns. A golden circlet, plain, yet stately sat at her raised brows, warm sea blue eyes crinkled into a smile. You balked, face pinching into an expression that could only be described as shameful, hands twisting in your old linen skirt, the drab color sticking out like a sore thumb. The High Lord was absent, the chair next to hers empty, but you felt no relief from that. The High Lady was just as imposing.

“Don’t be.” A flick of her wrist towards the chair across from them sent you into action, and you lowered yourself into the plush seat. “Would you like anything to drink or eat? How long have you been out there?”

Her voice seemed too perfect, too hypnotic for your ears. You found yourself blinking, twice, three times before you registered her question.

“I’m okay, truly.” Food would make you barf, so bad move there. From the looks of this place, any glass they’d offer you was likely three times the sum of your rent, and your shaking hands would send it shattering across the floor. “And not long, my lady.”

“Hm.” The sound was low, like the rumble of the ground beneath your feet, and your head felt inclined to dip. The High Lord was just as intimidating as you’d expected; dressed in all black, a matching circlet to his mate’s glinted in the faelight, his hands folded neatly into his pockets. “We don’t take kindly to liars.”

The expression that flickered across your face must have been comically scared, from the way the Lady’s eyes hardened to sheer ice.

“Rhys.” The lovely voice, the bells you would follow to the ends of the earth, possibly, shot out like a crop. 

The High Lord leveled you with a look that would have sent males twice your age running for the hills, and you thought about it. You considered hiking your skirts up, tucking your pitiful tail between your legs, and dashing out of here as fast as your legs could carry you. Instead, you smoothed out the papers in your hands, lowered your gaze, and began to read from the page.

“Thank you for your audience.” You began, eyes tracking your scribbling. “I wanted to first extend my gratitude for not only this moment, but the neverending support that you both have shown your people. I thank you for that.” A glance up, and your eyes connected with the starflecked violet gaze of your High Lord. Something in your gut twisted violently at his lowered brow, and your hand passed briefly over where your heart titered in your chest. “I here to ask for something that may be small to you, but is quite big to me.”

The rest of the words bleed together on the page in front of you, and with a sigh, you fold the paper along the edges, and cover the square with your palms. You know what you want, it swirls in your gut, tugs on your heart. It’s hanging from the biggest and brightest star, and this is the only chance you might have to dream for it, to hope that it might, one day, be real, might be a whisper of fruition eddying towards your open arms. 

“I’ve dreamed for my whole life that one day, I might make a difference. That someday, something might make me matter to someone.” Your voice teetered on breaking. “My mother and father are long gone. I have no brothers, no sisters. I don’t have many friends to speak of, and I’m sure I speak of them more than they speak of me. What I’m asking for is stupid, but to me, it’s a dream.” A saccharine smile aimed at your twisting hands, before your head pulls back to finally look at the two most powerful people you’ve ever known. “Have you ever had stupid dreams?”

The question hangs in the air like a feather. Your fingers flex, like you might reach out and snatch it back.

“No dream is stupid.” The High Lord’s eyes blink with stars. It’s mesmerizing. It’s terrifying. His gaze doesn’t stray from you, and it spreads a heat across the tip of your nose, peaking your ears. 

You pick at the edge of the paper neatly pressed to your thighs, peeling a corner back, folding it on the edge, and ripping along the seam as you swish your thoughts around in your head.

“This one might be.” Your smile is wistful, if not sad, like a flower blowing in the cold wind of winter, the laughter of a grown child. 

The scrape of a chair, and your High Lady has inched ever so close to you, her knees almost touching yours, the hazy purple gauze flirting against the skin of her legs as she shifts. It makes your heart beat that much quicker, her beauty, her close proximity, the power you feel rolling off her. You’ve been caught in storms before, but she’s like lightning itself. Soft, strong hands cup yours, and you almost jerk back out of sheer surprise, but the quirk of her lips makes your own soften into a smile.

“It’s okay to wish for silly things.” 

Years ago, you might have agreed with her.

Today, you aren’t so sure.

“High Lady, High Lord,” You say, eyes stuck on a freckle at the base of her thumb, tracing the lines of the jet black tattoo that curls up her wrist. “I want to find purpose.”

You could hear a pin drop.

The High Lady’s eyes glazed over, the stormy sea calming to a rolling fog. Daring a glance at the High Lord, you noticed a similar look in his eyes, the purple sky a calming shade of lilac, his eyes unfocused. You didn’t dare breathe, catching a gasp in your chest when they both finally resurfaced, a sharp snap in their gaze like you’d clicked your fingers for their attention. It was odd to have such resounding attention from two people who could crush the world around you with a blink, who could kill you without batting an eye. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, but you weren’t sure if it was terror, or great awe.

“That’s your wish?” The High Lord’s voice is startling all of a sudden, though you know it shouldn’t be. You blink, once, twice, and then nod, a simple strong shake of your head.

“That’s my wish.” You feel pitiful as you shrug your shoulders, but the High Lady squeezes your hands in hers. “I understand if you can’t grant it, I do. I greatly understand. In fact, I know you probably won’t be able to. And that’s alright with me. I’m just glad you’ve listened.”  It’s lighter than the rest of your conversation, the almost laughing tone your voice takes on. You pull back from the hands on top of yours, nodding gratefully. You hope you look sincere as you lower your head in a makeshift bow. “Thank you for that. For your hearts.”

You stood, not waiting for dismissal, which might have been a stupid decision. It might have cost you more than just pure embarrassment, the flush taking on a different, less welcome heat as it cloaked your shoulders and pressed into your chest. You did a poor curtsy, out of nothing more than a sorry excuse for respect to the two, and fled the room without a glance in either direction, even as something molten, something tight in your chest tugged away at you.

You didn’t even realize in your haste, the paper you’d meticulously, ever-so-carefully tended to for the last months had toppled to the floor, scrawled with sprawling words. 

Your wish.

-

The sun was still hot and high in the sky as you slunk into the shop, and the book you were using as a fan was doing nothing to combat the heat. Leaned against the entryway, holding the hair off the back of your neck and rapidly flapping the flimsy romance novel in your hand in hopes that even the smallest breeze would cool you down. The magic that typically kept the shop well ventilated was on the fritz, sending wayward gusts of air that ruffled through the pages on hand before stopping altogether, levitating teacups and coffee mugs in the air before dropping them and sending any liquid spilling onto the floor, opening and closing the curtains at will. 

“Hi, lovely!” The seamstress across the way waved at you with a lacy handkerchief, brown hair piled high on her head, a sheen of sweat dotted across her brow and smearing the silvery make-up she’d carefully used to decorate her eyes. 

“Hi, Dia.” You raised the book in greeting, letting your  hair drop from your hand. She sent you  a smile in greeting before escaping inside her shop, the wooden sign in her window swinging proudly from CLOSED to OPEN. 

With a great sigh, you tipped your head back and listened to the busy street with shut eyes. Children squealed on the street, couples tittered back and forth. Some called your name in greeting, and you waved lazily, eyes still shut, lulled into a sense of hazy drowsiness. Your flushed cheek pressed into the door sleepily, until a wet, cold object was shoved under your collar. 

Eyes flying open, the book fell to the floor, hands flinging to the back of your shirt, hopping from one foot to the next. Finally, the ice cube dropped from your dress to the floor, and you whirled on the culprit. 

“Sammy!” The accused giggled, eyes slit in amused mischief. “You pest!” 

Sammy was the delivery boy, and the bane of your existence. He was a child, only seventeen, with a boyish roundness to his cheeks and an inane personality that would make the sweetest person in Prythian think about bashing him on the head once or twice. It was his mission to make every day you lived harder than the last, but his mother, the owner of the neighboring bakery, thought it was because he fancied you a tad. You couldn’t tell if she was having a laugh, or had too much faith in her only child. You were much too old for him anyways.

“Who said I even did anything?” His blue lips pulled into a pout, his ears flicked and his red eyes widened like that of a street dog. “Mean, mean girl.”

Setting your jaw and bending down to swipe the book from the floor and make your way into the shop, you shot him a mean glare, something to make flowers wither, and little boys cry. He was standing by the back door, a sure sign that a shipment was docked, tightening the string on the front of his sleeveless tunic. Sliding behind the counter, leaving the book on the top, you moved around him to peer at what he’d delivered. 

It was a small box, unusual, but not uncommon, with a dainty golden lock holding it shut. You tilted your head around the boy, trying to get a better look at the thing. It was probably a special edition for one of our wealthier clients, but you hadn’t seen any sort of order like that go through in months, hadn’t heard a whisper of what this could even be. Without thinking, you started towards it out of sheer curiosity, but Sammy stepped in front of it with a sharp toothed grin and held his hand out.

“Payment first, please.” 

You rolled your eyes so hard, the planet did another spin.

“Greedy.”

Shouldering around him, you made your way to the lockbox and shook out a few gold pieces. His palm was cold and damp when you passed them over to him, and with a smirk like an alley cat, he disappeared down the alley and left you with the mysterious package. 

The box was ornate and wooden, the lock glinting on the outside with the winking of the sun through the windows. Approaching it with cautious curiosity, you reached out and grasped the lock, feeling its cool metal under my fingertips. Giving it a good tug, your feet slid out from under you, sending you sprawling to the floor in an instant; the box was heavy - like it was filled with a million rocks, ten ton weights, and a heavy book. Stretching your leg out towards the thing, you nudged it with the tip of your toe, hoping for some kind of movement but, alas - nothing. Abandoning caution, your leg reeled back and kicked the thing as hard as you could, only to be met with searing pain that reverberated through the bones of your shin. With a resigned huff,  you stood, brushing off dust from your skirt, and left it behind the counter with another, less fierce, more defiant kick for good measure.

Stupid thing. 

The box seemed to respond, the smallest of noises —the faint shuffle of the lock settling into place. It wasn't laughter, of course, but in that moment, it might as well have been. 

The day was sluggish and hot into the afternoon. Little to no customers stopped in, and Elias, the owner of the store, had left me alone for the morning. You did your duties; swept the aisles aimlessly, fronted all the books in the history section, wiped the counters at the tea stand. You even ventured to organize the pillows and blankets in the reading section, which was a loathsome task due to the sheer number of them littered about. Finally, when the sun was high in the sky with no promise of a cloud, Reana, the only other worker at the shop, slunk into the shop. 

Her inky hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and the clothes she wore were thin and airy, a short cream top with no straps, and a loose matching skirt that showed off a fair bit of her long legs. Her tanned skin was flushed with the heat, and her glasses sat low on her nose, the chain that held them along her neck softly clinking against itself.  

“I am sweating through every layer of clothing.” Her voice was scratchy, like smoke on a foggy day.

“Elias needs to re-up these stupid wards before I try myself.” Crossing the room from the little nook you’d been tidying up, you offered her a smile as a greeting. 

“Oh, don’t do that to us.” She snorted. With a flick of her hand, the tea stand bustled to life. “The last time you tried, it set us back decades.”

She was exaggerating, of course. The last time you’d tried to enforce the feeble wards on the store, it’d knocked every book out of the shelves and broken almost every mug and cup in sight. Your magic was not strong, it wasn’t practiced, and it sure as the Mother wasn’t controlled.

“Can you make some cold drinks? Maybe?” You plopped yourself down on a rickety red stool, chipped and discolored from use. “Milk tea would be lovely.”

Reana works the tea and coffee portion of the shop. While you could make an adequate cup, she was versed in fancy drinks and conversation; two things you did not have the skillset for. Her head dipped as she moved towards the counter, working meticulously to pull together the things she needed. Each movement was a choreographed dance, as she deftly poured and mixed, her fingers moving with the precision of a seamstress. The glasses sitting on her nose fogged up as she leaned down to sniff the spiced pot of tea on her small stove. She set the milky drink in front of you, the icey glass heavenly against my hands as you sipped at it casually, lolling my head back and forth as you drank. As the both of you sat in silence, the ambient sounds of the bustling street outside drifted in through the open window, mingling with the soft clink of ice cubes in our glasses. 

Gratefully, she doesn’t ask about the meeting you had today. Gratefully, she keeps her eyes trained on her tasks. Gratefully, you don’t have to explain anything to her.

Until…

Until the bell on the front door rings, and in steps the High Lord, the paper you’d apparently forgotten pinched between his thumb and his forefinger, the smile of a jester playing across his lips.

“Hello,” Voice like smooth, rich coffee colors the air. “I believe you’ve forgotten something.”

[httpsserene]

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

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© httpsserene2024

[all-or-nothing-baby]

“omg you don't have to work and get to do whatever you want all day”

i literally can't work because i'm chronically ill and disabled and anything i do in the daytime has the caveat of: this could be the one and only thing i get to do today depending on how much energy it uses up.

"omg you get to nap all day"

I literally can't control it, I'm so tired and fatigued by doing anything in the day time that I have to nap even of it doesn't really make me less tired.

[axelsagewrites]

kindly no pressure asking if locker room roy kent x reader will have a second part where jamie and roy finally talk/confront/fight? 🫣

Roy Kent*Apologise

Pairing: roy kent x f!reader

Word count: 1422

Warnings: swearings, mentions of semi public smut and getting caught, mentions of masturbating, a lot of swearing  

Part one here

Masterlist here

The night Roy met you was the best day of his life but the day you sucked him off in front of Jamie’s locker. And the thing that somehow made it better? Jamie saw it. Roy had the next two days off from Richmond so best believe those two days were spent in bed with you, only leaving for food and water.

Roy was smiling as he walked into Richmond. A sight that truly unsettled all the staff and his teammates. “Alright Isaac? Nice weather the day innit,” he grinned at the boy as they walked to the locker room.

“Uh yeah captain. It’s nice,”

“Gotta love when the suns out. birds chirping. A breeze in the air,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Isaac muttered, looking over at Colin who looked terrified of Roy’s happiness.

As Roy walked into the locker room Colin paused to whisper to Isaac, “Wasn’t it raining?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Isaac said, eyes never leaving Roy, “but it cannot be good,”

As the rest of the team began to filter in Roy continued to make happy small talk, even asking Sam how his weekend had been. It was freaking everyone out. the other odd thing however just walked through the door.

“Alright Tartt?” Roy called over, wide grin on his face, “Hairs looking good,”

Jamie just nodded, muttering a quiet thanks as he began to get changed with a grimace on his face when he got to his locker. “What the fuck is going on?” Colin whispered to Isaac who was seriously considering taking up religion in this moment.

Jamie had never been so quiet during a practise. He did every drill without complaint, scored every kick, and even passed the ball. “I’m worried about him,” Ted sighed as he watched him play, “He just doesn’t seem himself,”

“His playing’s excellent though,” Nate said, before trying to joke, “Maybe this is the start of a mature Jamie Tartt,”

Beard crossed his arms as he stared out onto the pitch, “There’s a disturbance in the force. Besides. Roy’s creepy when he’s happy,”

-

“Great work Colin, nice foot work,” Roy praised, patting the boy on the shoulder before running to get the ball.

Just as everyone was about to call for a priest you walked out of the tunnel. Usually, your presence was first notice by Jamie who would give a loud wolf whistle but instead you were able to walk up to Ted without drawing much attention. “And what do we owe this pleasure?” Ted asked, a smile on his face.

“Hey coach. Roy forgot his phone, so I came to drop it off,”

As if on queue Roy jogged over to the group, ignoring everyone but you who he gave an unabashed public kiss too despite usually hating PDA. “What would I do without you?” he joked as you both walked to the side so he could put it in his hoodie.

“You’re in a good mood. Jamie’s still alive though?” you joked.

A wider smile cracked his face, “He’s growing on me. What can I say?” he said but you paused, crossing your arms to scan his face, “What?”

You glanced to the field only to notice Jamie instantly look away when it dawned on you, “You told him!” you whisper yelled, smacking at his chest.

“I did not,” Roy protested, trying to look serious when a smile cracked back on his face, “He saw us,”

All of Roy’s happiness flooded away when a look of pure thunder crossed your face and your hands went to your hips, “And you didn’t think to tell me? Have you been torturing that poor boy?”

“No but- “

“Don’t ‘no but’ me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why are you defending him- “

“Does my face look like it cares?” you asked, dropping your hands from your hips only to cross your arms again, “Whatever you’ve been saying to him you better stop,”

“I didn’t say anything! I swear,” Roy said as he realised how much he’d fucked it, “I didn’t mean to upset you,”

“You don’t need to say anything to say something,” you said, rolling your eyes at the confused look on his face, “You better apologise,” you said making Roy scoff, but you were prepared to call his bluff, “No apology, no sex. Sorry I don’t make the rules,”

“That is so not fair,” Roy scoffed, “You can’t do that,”

“Try me,” you smiled as sweetly as possible before turning around to leave, swaying your hips a bit extra than usual to drive the point home. “Bye boys!” you called to the team, glancing back at Roy to send a quick wink before you left.

-

The force was slowly being restored since Roy was now back to miserable and angry but unfortunately Jamie’s mood hadn’t changed yet. Ted had tried pulling Jamie aside but he just shrugged it off. The team was back in the locker room, getting ready to leave.

As Jamie turned to leave though Roy sighed, “Tartt,” he called through gritted teeth, “I need to talk to you,”

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk to you,” Jamie said and the tension in the room could be cut by a knife.

Isaac went to whisper something to colin but before he could even start Roy’s head whipped around to glare at them, “Everyone out,” he barked and instantly the boys sprang to leave, “Everyone but Tartt,”

“Hey I think it might be best if I stayed-“ Ted tried to say but the low growl from Roy and glare from Jamie had him exiting just as swiftly.

“What?” Jamie asked, huffing as he crossed his arms.

“I’m,” Roy started to say but the words tasted like sick as he tried to force it out, “Sorry,” he eventually managed.

“What for?” Jamie asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You know what for,” Roy huffed, “Not stop taking the piss and take the apology,”

“That’s not how apologies work ya know?” Jamie said, dropping his arms, “Ya big creepy weirdo you,”

“Hey, you’re the one that was watching!”

“Was not!”

“So, what were you doing in your car then?”

“None your damn business!”

“Uhuh sure,” Roy said, drawing out the words as he chuckled, “See if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the pervert. Watching me and my girlfriend- “

“Fucking in my fucking locker? Like a pair of fucking fuckity weirdos fucking- “

Roy couldn’t help but laugh a little, “You’re starting to sound like me,” he said making Jamie huff like a child. Roy sighed as a horrible feeling set in; maybe he had been wrong, “I’m sorry. I crossed a line. Won’t happen again,” he said, actually sincerely for once.

Jamie eyed him up and down before finally nodding, “Okay but just you know. Don’t tell anyone about well…”

“I wish I didn’t even know,” Roy joked making Jamie roll his eyes. The pair were silent for a moment, “We good then? You gonna start being a prick again?”

“You’re terrible at apologies,” Jamie rolled his eyes as he grabbed his bag, “but yeah, we’re good. don’t know how she puts up with you though,” he said as the pair headed out the locker room to finally go home.

Roy couldn’t help himself, “Not just her who goes down- “

“We are not that close,” Jamie cut him off, holding his hand up to Roy’s face and making him cackle laughing.

The pair actually walked out of Richmond joking and laughing together. A sight you saw while you waited to pick Roy up. “See you tomorrow?” Roy said, sending you a quick wave as he walked to the car.

“Yeah mate. Hey you never know,” Jamie said, tapping Roy’s shoulder making him pause, “Maybe next time it’ll be me and Keeley in your spot,“ he tried to joke but Roy’s smile dropped into a harsh glare, “On second thoughts I think I’m late to something bye!” he half yelled as he jogged to his car, never turning his back on Roy.

As Jamie sped out the parking lot Roy finally climbed in the car, “What did you do?” you asked, squinting at him.

“I apologised! Honest,” Roy said, holding his hands up in mock defence, “You can ask him yourself tomorrow,”

“I will text him,” you warned as you started the car up.

Realization dawned over Roy, “How’d you have the pricks number?”

“He gave it to me ages ago,” you shrugged, “Encase I ever needed it,”

“That little fucker,”

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[official-toriel]

Dear/Dear

After Greetings,

I hope you are well and in the best condition. I am Ahmed, and I am writing to you today regarding a topic that is very important to me and my family. We are currently facing difficult circumstances that need the support of the community and good people like you.

I have written my story detailing my family's current situation and our urgent need for financial assistance. I would kindly ask you to help us spread this story as widely as possible. Reposting my story will go a long way in raising the funds we need to support my family during this difficult time.

I know your time is valuable, but your help in this matter will make a huge difference to us. If you can post the story on your social media platforms or share it with your friends and acquaintances, I would be very grateful.

Thank you for your interest and time. Your support gives us hope and strength to face these challenges.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/i-want-to-evacuate-my-family-from-the-gaza-strip?utm_medium=social&utm_source=whatsapp&utm_campaign=p_nacp+share-sheet

With sincere regards and appreciation,

[Ahmed]

---

I'm going to start queueing this so it can be seen by several different timezones, but this fundraiser has also been verified!! Please share this around and send money if you can!!

[merinsedai]

Thank you, @ficreadingchallenge for this fun little bingo challenge this summer! Some of these, I could have filled multiple times and some I had to have a search for, but all part of the fun!

1. Under the influence: Spoils of War by @seiya-starsniper [E] Aphrodisiacs! Starting strongly with the smut. Kinda feral for this piece, multiple rereads. Hob is not a good man but he is good in bed. Dream has not spoken since he arrived. How long ago that was I don't know, but I'm in awe of the pettiness. Excellent, love it. Very much E (and probably not the only one on this list...)

2. Newest fic in the tag of your choice: listen, I'm very one-track minded. Dreamling has basically been the only tag of my choice for the past two years. So, the newest fic when I decided to do this square was: Dream Ship by @often-adamanta [E] A spicy little tale set on a space ship which Dream controls and Hob's his muscle. They're a new partnership and Dream's not happy about it so he's giving Hob the silent treatment. Queue Hob taking some alone time, Dream accidentally interrupting and Hob having no privacy issues at all. The start of something beautiful, no doubt.

3. Inspired by another fanwork: I'll Go To Sleep and Dream Again by @chaosheadspace [E] which is inspired by Shelter by softestpunk. An accidentally human Dream has need of the help of Hob Gadling to help him navigate life as a human (eg facial hair, food, and morning wood), regain his Endlessness and recover his tools. Whilst falling in love and having some hot sex ofc. Also, a lot of lovely petnames.

4. Mistaken Identity: As a Stranger I Know Myself by @phinofthestorm and @sleepsonfutons [E] Could be no other choice for this square. Gripping drama, mysteries, feeeeelings, smut (obvs), plentiful existential angst, and shit goin' down. Featuring Jessamy the raven knocking her head against the wall; Burgess's cane; name repetitions; everyone having A Time of it; side characters Shipping Them Too; oh, and a main character you don't expect to like as much as you do...

5.Slow Burn: What Dreams May Come, When Living is at an End by Sebena [T] This fandom is slow burn central, but this is the fic I'm currently in the middle of, and I'm quite enamoured with the relationship between Knight Hob and Morpheus, and it's beautifully descriptive. Plus some lovely pieces of art by @teejaystumbles A real treat.

6. Dressing Up: Make it Count by @arialerendeair [E] Dream gets to dress Hob up very nicely for posh dinners aboard the world's most famous ocean liner in this wonderful Titanic AU. Dream gets to dress down, too! A longer fic but absolutely gripping! Could also use Aria and Konstadt's Colour Forecasting [E] for this square. There's lots of fancy tailoring and clothing choices going on here. And lots of smut, relationship navigation and lots and lots of kissing.

7.Author's oldest fic: Metamorphosis by @windsweptinred [M] Delightful fic about-yes- the metamorphosis of Dream and Hob into Something Else. Starts with high drama as Dream is about to take Death's hand as the Kindly Ones are ravaging the Dreaming and takes things in a very different direction. There's stunning artwork on each chapter that really adds to the reading experience!

8. Small Fandom (<1000 fics): In Which Cat/Cow Is Not A Yoga Pose by @temve [E] ok, technically a crossover with The Sandman (although for pure Aldrich Kemp there's A Fishbowl, a Forklift, and a Friend: or, Who Hired Aldrich Kemp? which I read back in April, so doesn't count for the summer challenge) Temve has Aldrich's voice down to a T and her humour is so on point. I laughed out loud many times in both these fics.

9. Gift Giving: For Your Affection by @cuubism [T] short and sweet little fic by cuubism dealing with high larceny as a love language. cuubism's writing is so joyful, the playfulness she often gives to her Dream brings me great happiness and there's no exception here.

10.Enemies to friends/lovers: Tower and Rose by @moorishflower [E] Beauty and the Beast style 'au' with a magic tower, a mysterious lord, a plucky peasant Hob, an 'imprisonment', a terror stalking the grounds and many, many questions. Why are all the servants ravens? Twists and turns a plenty, and some fun eldritch sex sprinkled in.

11.Lyric Title-listen to the song, too!: please wake me/for my love lies patiently by @beatnikfreakiswriting [E] sequel to the also-having-a-song-lyric title, would you let me know...? aka fics that live rent-free in my head after having rewired my brain. Featuring the most relatable Hob ever, copious interesting facts in the author's notes, and a Dream who would have scared the shit out of me if he'd been my lecturer but is hot af and needs lots of love really. Lots of scorching smut too. Is this a theme? Obviously. Bonus that each chapter, and the series title, have song lyric titles too.

12.de-aging/kidfic England and Nowhere (Never and Always) by @dsudis [M] The last fill on my card, and one I had to search for. And I'm glad I did. I'm about 1/2 way through so don't know the resolution but a lot of it is very soft, especially Dream's relationship with the changeling toddler, Finn. Finn feels very much like a real little boy in his actions and his dialogue. I'm very much enjoying this fic.

FREE SPACE: literally anything by @tj-dragonblade fluff and smut and pure delight.

13.character study: Unsent Letters, Nameless Stranger by @rainbowvamp [M] letters from Hob to Dream throughout the centuries detailing the evolution in Hob's thoughts, attitudes and feelings towards his life, his history and mostly, his feelings for Dream (aka a lot of pining). I'm about halfway through the letters so far and am looking forward to getting back to them.

14.happy ending: My Fair Gadling by @zigzag-wanderer [E] a work in progress, so we haven't reached the happy ending yet, but I have faith in the author and this absolutely wonderful fic. Hob has such a strong narrative voice, he is a delight to read and so, so funny. I laugh out loud constantly in all of ziggy's fics, whether that's the dialogue or the hilarious analogies and metaphors. Professor Morpheus is a study in buttoned up sadness to begin with, but just wait until he's unleashed. He's unbearably sexy when he rolls his sleeves up and fixes car engines at the side of the road, and endearingly earnest in bed. I eagerly await every chapter (especially to find out what outfit Hob has shimmied into that day).

15.Secret Relationship: Risk and Reward by @signiorbenedickofpadua [E] absolutely cracking Regency au. Lord Morpheus spends a lot of time early on feeling mildly fevered. It's probably nothing to do with his new house guest, Mr Robert Gadling, right? These guys slowly, so slowly move towards Something Special. There is the ultimate thrill of finger brushing; the admiration of shapely legs and the highly charged Shakespeare reading. Also balls, duels, painting, stargazing, horse riding and misuse of biblical quotes. And I'm only half way through! The relationship is of necessity given the time period, secret. At the point I'm at, it's finally begun in earnest and I'm excited to see where the plot takes them next!

16. Angst: Exit Wounds by @valeriianz [T] There are many angst-ridden fics in this fandom, and I am a sucker for angst. I love it and seek it out. This fic by sanyumi tore my heart out, stomped all over it and then threw it in the river for good measure. Sometimes you just need to feel destroyed and this delivers.

17. Omegaverse AU So Tell Me Where To Put My Love by @seiya-starsniper [E] Another of my favourite au topics! This starts out with an unhappily arranged marriage, secrets and angst and lots of miscommunication and then explores the developing relationship between Hob and Dream; Dream getting to feel empowered; more miscommunication; knitting; Hob getting to be incredibly rude to Dream's mother, and a very happy ending. Could have tagged loads in this square. Special mentions to i have no fear of time / for who knows how my love grows? by @gabessquishytum [E] for pure horny good times most centuries; and also the incomparable Lover, Be Good to Me by @omgcinnamoncakes which I haven't actually read this summer but which hasn't left my brain. The ultimate omegaverse slowburn and healing fic. Wonderful.

18. High School/College au: Dr Hardass and Professor Sweetheart by crimandclove [G] an outsider pov look at Hob and Dream, who are both professors at the same university (and also married, of course, though the protagonist doesn't know it). And by the same author: Coincidence, [T] which is the story of how Dream and Hob met and became friends in high school. Pure nostalgia for me and Hob is such a delightful pov character to follow. Unfinished but with a full synopsis of how the story would have gone.

19. Road Trip: The Blood of Bucephalus by @llflorence [E] no actual roads, but these guys sure go on a journey. Set in ancient times, with shades of Alexander the Great. Except it's king Morpheus and his loyal soldier (and lover) Hob. Featuring Hob being mostly bewildered about what's going on and Morpheus being the most tight lipped monarch in existence. Also featuring a love for horses and Morpheus's unquenchable desire to travel incognito. Written with the same tenderness, intensity and mystery that is Lis's hallmark.

20. New author (<1 year) Coma Dreams by TheTroubleWithTribbles [M] a fic I had to actively search for but very much enjoyed reading. Some domesticity, Dream being caring, Matthew being traumatised, and Hob enjoying an extended trip to the Dreaming. Featuring some laugh out loud moments, Dream with broccoli patterned oven gloves and Hob being free with terms of endearment.

21. Crossover or fusion fic: Half Asleep, Half Waking by @softest-punk [G] again, I could have chosen fics by softestpunk to fill most of the spaces on this grid! Isn't their writing delightful? Such warmth and such range. Something for whatever you're in the mood for. Am in awe. Anyway, this is a crossover between The Sandman and Rivers of London. I didn't know the RoL books, but after reading this I listened to them on audible and came back to the fic. Very enjoyable- thanks, Cecil! Nightingale is my favourite character from RoL and I loved his relationship with Hob. And Hob gently chiding Molly and Nightingale to get their acts together, ha!

22. Superpowers/no powers Au: Here in the Darkness by @cuubism [M] Since we've got one 'super' character, and one 'normal' character in Dreamling, I chose cuubism's reverseverse fic where they've switched around. Good grief, it was good. Hope is a ray of sunshine, eh? He's just going around being lovely and offering hope, and being kind to Morpheus. And then gets captured and treated horrifically for a century. There's plenty of angst, Morpheus being snitty, then depressed, then a vengeful angel and then they get some softness. It's pure cuubism magic: it's fucking brilliant.

23. Only One Bed: The Chase by @imnotcrying-ipromise [M] I followed along with this story as it was being published early last year, and it was a wild ride of emotions and cliffhangers! Not only is there only one bed, there is a hunt across the country, a wonderful yet dangerous connection, and of course, some falling in love. It's such a fun and thrilling tale: a unique concept with a menacing villain. The sense of peril is real: for our canon characters and some lovely ocs we meet, too. And in the quieter moments there is a lot of sweetness and care between Dream and Hob. An excellent re-read this summer.

24: Soulmates: Destined by @arialerendeair [M] I love a good soulmate au, and this is a cracker by Aria. Featuring not one, but two rescues, a number of villains getting their just desserts, and visits to a Greek temple. Hob is, by turns, a bamf and a gentle, considerate man. He's spent 600 years trying to figure out what the letters of his soul mark mean, and when he does... Dream has spent countless years not even knowing he has a soul mark/mate; it takes a severance from the Dreaming to reveal it, and when he finds out...

[halfmoth-halfman]

Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

[readychilledwine]

The Extra Mile

Summary - Rhysand has never failed to surprise you for your birthday, and he's not going to start now.

A/N - enjoy this drabble before the big bang tomorrow 💜 baby daddy and I are spending the day together and giving into ALL of my cravings today 🥹🥹🥹 ps peep the inspiration dress at the end of the drabble. I DROOLED.

You stretched, feeling over to your mate's side of the bed and pouting when you felt it was empty. You were used to him having to leave early in the mornings, but typically he woke you up for a quick kiss goodbye or a fast round of morning sex before slipping out from the covers and taking care of his duties.

But today was special, and he normally didn't do anything besides worship you on your birthday. You sighed, chalking it up to this being the first year you two could celebrate since he left for the mountain, since Feyre had been made, and the war with Hybern, maybe between all of that, he had forgotten.

You sat up, wrapping the satin sheets around your body and went to walk to the closet, only for a tendril of darkness to grab your wrist and pull you to the bathroom instead. "Did your master send you?" It seemed to nod, gently guiding you to a warm bubble bath. A bottle of wine sat near the edge, waiting for you to pop the cork along with a tray filled with grapes, cheeses, and a note in Rhysand's graceful scrollwork.

You smiled as the darkness swirled your naked body before disappearing with an almost kiss-like feeling on your cheek and temple. You leaned against the wall of the tub, opening the letter. You looked over to the side where the dress he mentioned in it was hanging. It was, of course, a beautiful piece made by his mother. It was, shockingly, a deep crimson red velvet gown with long sleeves, it had a rounded neckline and you could see what appeared to be chains and gems adorning what appeared to be an open back.

You heard the door open and another wine glass appeared. "Well, hello y/n darling." You smiled to Rhys, leaning your head against the tub and instantly moved so he could join you. "How was training?"

He sighed, stripping himself of his leather bottoms in an almost slow teasing manner. "Gwyn disarmed Azriel, Nesta beat Cassian in a hand on hand spar, Emerie let me teach her a new archery tip and trick to help her with drawback and aim. I'm very proud of them." You smiled at his sparkling eyes. "Emerie especially. You should be very proud of her."

"I am every day. Thank you for bringing her here." He nodded, getting in behind you and pulling you into his arms. "What's the plan for today?"

Rhysand poured you both a glass of wine, handing you yours and taking his. "Well, since this is the first year your birthday has been calm in years, I thought maybe we should enjoy a day shopping in Winter." He smirked behind his hand as you seemed to almost begin to glow in anticipation. "Then we will have dinner with Kal and Viv, because your sister asked if I would share you this year." The water began to splash lightly as your shoulders danced. "Then," he drawled out, "Kal has kindly volunteered to let us enjoy the weekend in your family's cabin, just us. No work. No worries. Perhaps, no clothing."

That was the final queue, you quickly turned yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly. "Does that sound good, darling? I know it isn't an extravagant party like Beron forces Lady Autumn to endure."

You nodded, eyes watering slightly, "It's perfect, Rhys. Just absolutely perfectly."

Isn't. This. Stunning?

[capricornlevi]

warm, cool, sweet and bitter

cafe!owner nanami x reader - gn!reader - sfw - wc 1.6k

"not going for the usual?"

nanami's question is delivered casually and carefully, the low tones of his voice carrying across the empty floor of the restaurant.

his restaurant, to be exact. your favourite spot for a late-night cup of tea and the only place in the city that serves sandwiches made with baguettes baked fresh in-house, you find yourself here around 4am at least four days a week.

it's funny; your schedules make it so that the end of your day always coincides with the start of nanami's. he comes in early to put the pastries in the oven, to grind the coffee beans to the correct consistency, to ensure that there's enough stock to last the coming few hours. he's always occupied with some task or another -- for his sake, you're glad you're the only customer at this hour.

though the restaurant is a veritable ghost town whenever you visit, he has told you it tends to pick up around 7am. within the hour, there's a queue out the door.

the popularity doesn't surprise you. nothing beats the welcoming aroma of fresh bread from the oven, the slightly bitter but warm scent of brewing coffee enveloping you into a little bubble sheltered from the usual hustle and bustle of the streets outside.

the bar you work at is just three doors down, and so by the time last call is announced, you're already thinking of the warm baguette you're going to enjoy before rushing home to collapse into bed.

the same baguette every time, with the same blend of tea. you're fairly certain he gives you the same mug every time, too, a beautifully crafted piece of porcelain with little hand-painted yellow flowers decorating the sides.

you've carved out a nice little routine for yourself. but as nanami so astutely pointed out a moment ago, you figure it's time to change it.

some aspects of the routine stay the same; you sit on the same counter stool you always sit at, placed just beside the coffee maker so you can chat as nanami prepares a macchiato for himself. nanami looks the same, dressed in that familiar shirt and slacks that seem perfectly tailored just for him. the smooth jazz playlist plays so quietly in the background that it's barely legible -- you only catch a note or two every few minutes.

but you are going to change one key aspect of this ironclad routine: your order.

"yeah, gonna go for coffee today, i think," you inform him, trying to sound assured in your decision. "a double epresso, please."

"a double? at four in the morning?"

he casts a questioning look your way from over the counter and you shrug, trying to ignore the ache of your muscles as you do so. as he hand-whisks some whipped cream for the pastries, a few strands of his blond hair fall into his eyes. he tries to flick them away to no avail.

you swallow, a lump forming in your throat as you think of how to reply.

"busy day ahead of me, i guess."

nanami nods slowly -- out of politeness, you presume, since there's no way he knows what you're referring to.

your purposeful vagueness isn't to be rude, though, it's just saving you both from extreme awkwardness.

since the reason you're loading up on caffeine is so that you're fully charged to go and break up with your cheating boyfriend.

your pathetic, free-loading, unable to do his own laundry, didn't even have the courtesy to crop you out of the pictures he used on his Tinder profile, miserable excuse for a boyfriend.

in the middle of your lunchbreak you received a text from a girl he'd been hooking up with, who had very kindly spotted your picture on his social media and decided to inform you as to the calibre of man you were calling your significant other.

you thanked her, typed up a three-sentence long text telling your boyfriend it was over, and blocked him.

he had then used his friend's phone to call you, weeping for a chance to explain, snivelling and choking out inarticulate apologies, and you agreed to see him one last time.

just to give him a piece of your mind before cutting him off for good. it'll be good for closure, you figure.

you're more angry than heartbroken -- honestly, you're not sure you ever really liked him. six months into this relationship and you find yourself looking forward to these conversations with nanami more than you do spending time with the man you're actually seeing.

were seeing. past tense, thankfully.

nanami bends down to place the whipped cream in the fridge, dusting some residual flour from his royal blue shirt as he rises again.

"sounds like more than just a busy day," he observes patiently, measuring out some espresso grounds to pull your coffee. "want to talk about it?"

against the odds, your exhausted face brightens with a smile. "there's good customer service, and then there's me taking advantage of your hospitality, nanami."

shaking his head amusedly as he shakes off the excess grounds from the basket, he chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that lodges in your chest.

"it's not taking advantage if i'm offering willingly."

"you don't have enough to do around here?" you grin.

"oh, i do. but hearing about your problem might make me feel better about having to spend three hours doing stock take later this evening."

"ah, so i'm doing you a service moaning about my personal life?"

"absolutely. in fact, if it's tragic enough, i'll throw in a pain au chocolate free of charge."

"high stakes," you reply with a faux solemnity. "you really want to hear?"

"very much so," he answers, the sentence being punctuated by the hum of the espresso machine.

"okay then," you sigh, fidgeting with the rings on your right hand as some vain attempt to distract yourself. "the short of it is that i just wasted six months of my life. half a year. five percent of a decade that i'll never get back."

nanami waits for the espresso to finish pouring, the deep amber of the coffee shot wafting steam up into the air between the two of you.

"wasted how?"

another sigh, wearier this time. "on a guy who i genuinely think has annoyed me since i met him."

silence. this time, it doesn't appear to be coffee-related.

but when you glance away from your rings to see nanami's face, you see that it's more pensive than judgemental. as though he's truly considering what to say next.

"why did you agree to go out with him in the first place?" he asks after another few moments, brows slightly pinched together.

a fair question. one you're not entirely sure of the answer to.

"fear of the alternative?" you hazard a guess, acutely aware of how strange it is to be speaking so candidly with a guy you only know through your shared love for baked goods.

"being alone?" he follows up with a sincerity that cuts through any discomfort.

"i guess."

"i know what you mean," nanami continues, finally remembering the espresso shot that's still sitting on the tray.

he takes the cup -- your usual, because neither of you thought to forego that part of the routine -- and sets it before you, muscles in his forearms straining when he crosses them over his chest afterwards.

"you do not," you mumble instictively. the words fall out without you thinking, but they're not meant maliciously; it's just that nanami is so ... eligible, for lack of better word. handsome, engaging, owns his own thriving café.

he makes fresh eclairs every single morning, for crying out loud. you cannot fathom a world in which people aren't lining up to be with him.

though your blurted words could be perceived as rude, nanami just smiles softly, amusement reaching his eyes as they lock with yours.

"want me to tell you something?"

"is it as embarrassing as my fact?" you query, knocking back most of your coffee in one swig.

"unquestionably."

at that, you set the cup back down abruptly, clinking it against the saucer.

"really?"

he just nods. you sit back on the stool, feeling the plush backing of the stool against your lower back.

"go on, then."

"i don't actually open this early."

your face scrunches into an expression of pure confusion; nanami's lips quirk upwards in response.

"what do you mean? do you open in like ... a half hour?"

he shakes his head, those strands of hair falling loose again.

something washes over you, a sense of recognition, connecting the dots slowly in your tired, over-exerted brain.

"nanami ..."

"yes?"

"... do you not open until seven?"

nanami's weighted silence answers your question.

you breathe in, out. blink haplessly up at him.

you're sure your coffee is starting to get cold, but you make no attempt to drink it.

"i - what - what are you - why do you let me come in here three hours early? why did you never say anything?"

you choke out the words desperately, flooded with a dozen different feelings at once.

he stays smiling, but something else flashes in his eyes. you see the already-tense muscles of his arms tighten further.

"why do you think i never said anything?"

[stormyoceans]

random thoughts and recollections about the jimmysea and pondphuwin fanmeet in rome!!!!!!!!

WARNING. this is just a ridiculous amount of obnoxious ramblings by yours truly with basically no pictures whatsoever because 1) im terrible at taking them, 2) my phone is old and has terrible quality, 3) even when @petrichoraline so kindly offered me her spare phone to take some decent photos and videos i almost yeeted it across the room in the midst of things, so. yeah, just be aware these are a lot of boring words ;;;;;;;;

ANYWAY. let's get into it!!!!!!!

JIMMYSEA PHOTO SESSION

putting the jimmysea photo session LITERALLY FIRST THING FIRST sure was a choice and not a good one for my heart which clearly shows in my picture with them because i look like a deer caught in headlights (im not subjecting y'all to my face but trust me on this i was SHAKING)

with the way the queue and the room were set up i feel like it was so much easier to look at and make eye contact with sea rather than jimmy, so at the end i whipped around to thank jimmy too and i think i automatically tried to wai to both of them, which i hope wasn't inappropriate ;;;;;;;;;; in my defense everything that was going on in my head in that moment was FUCK FUCK FUCK THEY'RE ACTUALLY REAL AND SO HANDSOME FUCK

also i had no pose in mind and i ended up panicking ;;;;;;;;

(more ramblings under the cut)

PONDPHUWIN Q&A PANEL

i bought the cheapest pass for them at the last second so i was sitting very far in the back during their panel and yet i could still see pond's jawline from all the way over there like i swear that shit is so sharp it could cut glass

i keep forgetting just how young phuwin actually is because he both looks and sounds so mature and confident and suave it's honestly insane

although one of the games was like. one of them had to be blindfolded and try to guess which pose the other was making just by touching them, and at the very beginning when pond put the blindfold on phuwin kept running away from him which was both so funny and cute

also the host kept putting up numbers with his hand and asking 'how many are these' to a blindfolded pond and one of those times pond answered by going 🤟 and i was like POND GOD DAMMIT

btw phuwin invited everyone to the GMM building so jot that down. if anyone gets there and securities asks you something y'all can blame him now (jk)

phuwin's favorite scene in we are is the art room scene with a sleeping phum in episode 11, while pond's is the pool scene always in episode 11. THE TASTE THE VISION THE FLAVOR TRULY MEN AFTER MY OWN HEART

JIMMYSEA Q&A PANEL

i was sitting in the second row for the jimmysea panel so i could catch so many small moments i absolutely loved such as:

they had to press a buzzer for questions and they always did that together, with jimmy's hand being on top of sea's like 5 times out of 6

jimmy poured some water for both himself and sea and he made sure that sea drank some

there was a game with balloons where the two sides of the audience were supposed to get the balloons to the back and then bring them back to the boys, and we failed spectacularly on jimmy's side (HE FELT SO BETRAYED IM SO SORRY BBY), so when the balloon got to sea very quickly he pushed it back towards the audience to buy jimmy's some time

both p'tha and p'aof were actually sitting next to the audience on my side of the room watching jimmysea panel and in my head i was like EXCUSE ME SIRS CAN WE TALK [slides monopoly money towards p'tha for a new jimmysea series] [has WORDS with p'aof]

so the way questions worked was like. they had to press a buzzer and after that a spinning wheel with different colors would come up on screen and on whichever color it stopped on they had to pick a piece of paper of that same color with a random question written on it. during one of the spins, the wheel landed on yellow and jimmy picked one of the papers, but i think because of the lighting it actually looked green from the audience's pov, so everyone was screaming 'that's green'. however jimmy insisted that it was yellow, and that what we were saying was yellow was actually orange (the host was agreeing with jimmy but sea was agreeing with us so im still a bit confused on the matter sfjksgfj). then the host said 'we're still gonna do this one' (as in the yellow/green one that jimmy had already picked) but jimmy went 'two questions' and picked one of the yellow/orange ones too, so the host just turned towards the organizers like well since he's the one who said so. JIMMY JITARAPHOL TRULY A MAN OF THE PEOPLE (but also please stop giving nomnoms reasons to have beef with the color orange sfjkshfksg)

actual thing that happened:

host: describe each other in 3 words

jimmy: very cute creature. he's my cat

sea: my good boy

me: WHAT THE FUCK AM I EVEN WITNESSING RN

jimmy said he would like to play a detective in a future series and i almost vibrated out of my seat like YES PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD YES THAT'S A MAN AFTER MY OWN HEART HE KNOWS WHAT'S UP P'THA ARE YOU HEARING THAT PLEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS I COULD GIVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sea said he wants to play a dentist but he actually meant dermatologist, he just messed up the word, and jimmy said that if we want him to be a dentist as well we should give him six more years sfjksjksf

at one point sea said 'mamma mia' and i burst out laughing so hard that's when i almost flung @petrichoraline's phone across the room (and that's when i also decided it was just better for everyone involved if i didn't try to take pictures or record stuff ;;;;;;;;;)

they also had to act out some words and when the host said 'sleep' sea was like 'i thought he (jimmy) would point at me' SON WHY ARE YOU CALLING YOUR OWN ASS OUT ✋😭 (and of course jimmy took the chance to point out that sea did in fact sleep right before the panel)

when the host said the word 'love' sea pointed at jimmy and jimmy pointed at the audience and then they were both quick at mimicking each other (so jimmy also pointed at sea, and sea also pointed at the audience)

SEA IS SUCH A GOOD SINGER AND JIMMY GOT SO MUCH BETTER TOO I WILL GENUINELY ACCEPT NO SLANDER TOWARDS THEM WHEN IT COMES TO SINGING AFTER THIS FANMEET

it was established that the most important words in italian are 1) mamma (mom), 2) pasta, 3) pizza, 4) ti amo (i love you). hard to disagree with that tbh

i think after this fanmeet i've really got to give it to jimmy and admit he actually might be an extrovert because he was just soooooooo ridiculously charming and witty and quick on his feet when it came to find funny answers and deal with some sound issue during his song like i really do think he shines when he's around people

i think you can tell sea is definitely more reserved compared to jimmy but what he doesn't have in expansiveness he makes it up with being so incredibly endearing like he really is just SO. DAMN. CUTE. (even if he tried to give me a heart attack by having his arms out for the fanmeet PUT THOSE GUNS AWAY SIR)

AUTOGRAPH SESSION

had a chance to get a closer look to pond and phuwin when they all walked inside the room and im trying to say this in a way that doesn't make me sound like an insane creep but like. the sheer amount of FACE pond has. i've seen him with my own two eyes and i still can't believe that's a real human being just going around his life. WITH THAT FACE. kinda understand now why greeks decided that the human form was the most important subject for artistic endeavour because jesus. that man really is sculpted by the gods

all that being said, i think the one whose pictures don't give him justice is sea. he is just so ridiculously handsome in real life and has the most beautiful smile i've ever seen i kinda. lost it a little about it ;;;;;;;

i think it's one of the reasons i suddenly got even more nervous and ended up messing up so badly ;;;;; i had this entire speech in my head about vice versa but i was so worried about holding up the line and the fact that everyone had even small gifts for them while i was empty handed and they were just. SO MUCH. so i just said 'hiiloveyouthankyou' to both of them and rushed away ;;;;;;;;; and i regret it so much because i think sea was trying to say something but after that he just went 'oh. love you too. bye' IM SO SFJKSHFKSGFJGSJDFJDK STUPID

FINAL CONSIDERATIONS

pondphuwin and jimmysea give off such different vibes and energies imho, at least during panels, like idk how to explain it but they truly feel like the cool kids and their silly goose uncles (and im saying this in the most loving way)

so. i guess this is the moment where i get a bit emotional about jimmysea. like i know im very biased but at the same time im also very aware that what we get to see of them is always somewhat performative, and yet. if before there was a part of me that was like 'this is gonna be a reality check and a reminder that i don't do parasocial relationships', that got pretty much crushed after this fanmeet. jimmysea genuinely look like the loveliest darlingest sweetest softest most precious boys who always make sure to thank everyone for getting where they are now. like my heart is so full of love for them i honestly don't know what else to say rn

if i have to find one negative thing (aside my blundering of the autograph session so badly) is the vice versa erasure. like both jimmy and sea had a solo song and that would have been the perfect opportunity for 'have i found' or 'by my side' but of course that didn't happen. one of the questions was 'what was your favorite scene to film' and they just assumed it was about last twilight. this is not me blaming them btw, because even when the fanmade video for them was played it only had last twilight scenes and moments so like. it's obvious they would think everyone just cares about last twilight. which is why i regret the autograph session so much and im sad im not the type of person who can just shout 'what about a vice versa scene!!!!!!' from the audience 🥲

this is also why i ended up buying the italian version of the vice versa novel btw BECAUSE IM NOTHING IF NOT A WEAK ASS PETTY HOE

my biggest warmest thank you goes to @petrichoraline who was just so endlessly patient and supportive and sweet and nice through it all, idk what would i have done without her. i also don't really have the words to properly express myself but like. I LOVE HER SOSOSOSOOSOSOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!

a big thank you and sorry also goes to @puppy-phum who is just sooooo lovely. i feel bad because i wasn't there for her as much as i wished to but im grateful we went through the photo and autograph sessions together. I LOVE HER SOOOOOOOOO MUCH TOO!!!!!!!!!!!