#the author is such a sweetheart

[gengwasted]

Fanart for Logical deduction of Value a delicious Alhaitham x Kaveh fic by @stillabovethecloudssomewhere (go read it or else…)

If I start rambling about this fic you’ll never hear the end of it haha, but lemme just tell you that if you’re in need to consume some hurt/comfort THIS is the one. Thank me later.

Anyhow for context Kaveh is incredibly sick, Alhaitham braids and unbraids his hair to soothe his pain, and eventually he falls asleep.

[coldemergency]

Harry: Why do you always look so mad?

Draco: I don’t have resting bitch face, I’m a bitch that needs a rest

[an-experienced-gentleman]

Let me be in charge, Sweetheart.

Six Sexy Words

[m1d-45]

Literally a lurker on your blog since ur early days but too shy to slide into ur ask box, hiii!!! I keep seeing cryo anon and teddy anon's brainrots and asks,,,, and like, regarding post impostor AU hehe

imagine after the hunt when your fave character/vessel begs you for forgiveness the most, practically turning their voice hoarse from their pleas to share just a bit of your mercy....

(you never showed your face to them, even when they were your most favored. how selfish of them, wanting more than they could ever deserve. but they can't help it. if you wanted them to die a thousand times over to repent, they would. just please, look at them again.)

post imposter au always tickles an itch in my brain I've never known existed. angry creator? boiling hot rage creator for their acolytes killing them when they've shown nothing but love and kindness for this world?? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP LORD

I wanna see guilt. And I mean GUILT. it's probably cause I'm petty asf and if I would be killed over and over and over again only for them to realize I'm not the fake I would literally lock myself up in whatever tower they built for me and never talk again. Creator's trust? Shattered, irreparable. Followers? Wallowing in the despair.

Thank u and goodbye heh. If it's not too much, can I be called Marcotte anon? Hehe fontaine reference hhhh,, anyways have a good day ily and ur fics <3

post-hunt can be incredibly good, entirely agree

the love you felt for the world is so strong already, and it only grows as you finally get to teyvat. being here, feeling the elemental energy, feeling the world greet you as you return after your rest.. what hate is more powerful than a love turned rotten?

you hid behind your veil, uncertain if you’re protecting yourself or them. it hurts to see their eyes tearing up as they plead, but what else are you to do? your hands shake when they draw close, and you can’t erase your own memory.

(you’d know. you asked nahida about it, but she’d only shaken her head. all she could do was clear the memories of teyvat, but not yours. it hurt, but was probably for the best.)

(despite it being a failure, that day was the calmest you’d felt in weeks. she was easy to talk to, and made lovely tea. perhaps you should visit again, if only to take a break from… everything.)

your solitude is comfortable, most of the time. a few of the hunters are a bit too comfortable with their sin, and are the ones tasked with bringing you food and other necessities. it’s not much better, though, since you can still see the guilt sinking in their eyes.

it’s a lose-lose all around. you want to see them, you want to see the world, but every leaf and branch is stained with the memories of the past, what used to be your favorite retreat now something else to hide from.

part of you is angry. furious at how easily they were tricked. it’s hard to stay mad at those you love, though, so you end up sitting in your window and watching the wind blow safely behind glass. your tea is from inazuma, this time, the faint edge of bitterness keeping you from sinking too far into much of anything.

leaves dance in the breeze. you won’t be seen again until they’ve long turned brown.

[kinoi-lol]

The rest of book covers made

:D I love this hobbies if you cant tell

[laurapetrie]

THE GIRL IN THE SONG, round one: marianne faithfull (team jagger) vs. hermione farthingale (team bowie)

IN FAVOR OF MARIANNE: - She's Marianne Faithfull! - "Graceless lady, you know who I am / You know I can't let you slide through my hands." IN FAVOR OF HERMIONE: - "They say you sparkle like a different girl / But something tells me that you hide / When all the world is warm and tired / You cry a little in the dark / Well, so do I." - "It was long, long ago, long ago / And I still can't touch your name."

[slicedblackolives]

this hurts me so deeply because that bitch jk rowling is a zionist my god 😭

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

fic thoughts that have been heavy on my mind lately

Cold fic continuation where they're moving into their new apartment and some feelings are felt. and danny having to go away for tour and feelings being felt. and. danny confronting the reader on her not letting him care for her.

sweetheart josh jump forward to current jullet josh. still just as bratty still knows their ass belongs to reader.

the record store running shy jake fic I started and never did anything with

putting jake in your lingerie. gigling a little but also realizing things. buying jake his own lingerie. unwritten, just been rotating it in my brain a lot.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Sweethearts & Sugarsnap

books 2 & 3 in a YA paranormal novella trilogy set in 2004

lesbian couple try to survive the last year of high school before they can get out of their creepy and restrictive small town

but the supernatural stuff they messed around with last year isn’t done with them yet, and they each have secrets haunting them

[chilapis]

my monthly overthrow the tsaritsa post. you do not need to owe your loyalty to anyone but me i think. abandon your god for the prettiest wife this universe could ever provide a warrior. Ajax I’m speaking directly into your ear

[midnightsun-if]

I feel kind of bad. You made this blog for Midnight Sun, yet it feels like all people care about now is the office romance game. It’s admittedly, a fun idea, but I don’t imagine it’s what you had in mind when you first made this blog. I just hope you know that people are still super excited for the main game lol!

I don’t mind it at all! I think it’s a lot of fun to delve into. I’m invested in all of my characters, and the various stories they can create, and I’m honored that people like them enough to actually want to learn/hear more about them!

I appreciate the concern a great deal though. That’s very sweet of you to be worried about me. I’m so happy that you’re excited for the I ncoming updates for Midnight Sun! I’m excited for you all to see it!

[kilannad]

There is something so wholesome about the empyrean fandom. Like maybe I’m just managing to dodge the discourse, but everyone here is so supportive and lovely especially compared to other romantasy series I could name

Idk yall im just so happy to have found this little corner of the internet

[lilflowerpot]

ive been reading ur worldbuilding posts quite literally all day while listening to ur keitor playlist gah i love ur fic sm time for my 3rd reread

i l o v e y o u 🥺🥺🥺

[theitalianscribe]

Thinking about how Carlos's wife is named Lucy, which sounds like Luz, which means Light and also I think might have biblical origins, but I need to double check.

And then Wiatt loves Lewis Bright, which is a first name that also starts with L, makes a "Lu" sound and then Bright is another word that could be associated with Light.

Conclusion: the Nicholson boys, much like crows, have poor eyesight and attracted to bright, shiny things.

[maryrebeccawrites]

My Childhood Crush is a Selkie

See all available chapters here.

Chapter Two: Sea Glass Memories

I had never allowed myself to imagine I would see Delmar Lennox again. Well maybe I had imagined it once or twice in the middle of the night or on a particularly boring day, but I had never allowed these fantasies to last for long.

As soon as he left eleven years prior, in my melodramatic teenage rage, I had taken everything he had ever given me and either burned it, donated it, or in the case of the many shells and rocks we had collected together on the shoreline, thrown them back to the sea along with all of my memories. I had never imagined that he would come back to shore, materializing out of everything I had tried to abandon.

He looked both remarkably changed and unchanged. The boy I had known had been shorter than me most of our lives and was barely an inch taller when we parted. I was quite statuesque myself, but now the young man before me was taller by about six inches. In nothing more than gray cotton shorts, I could see how strong and muscled his lean torso and limbs had grown.

Water droplets trickled down his pale skin. I remembered that during the summer, he often developed an uneven tan and a face full of freckles, but there was none of that now, like he hadn't been spending as much time outside. His short hair, however, was still black and unruly like wet, scattered rocks, and his eyes were just as clear and blue as they had always been, even in this darkness.

And something else was the same: he always wore a lot of jewelry. He had many bracelets and wristbands from various music festivals and concerts he had attended and rings he had found washed up on the beach, but around his neck, he only wore one thing. It was a simple leather cord with a very rare, small piece of turquoise sea glass in the middle.

I had given it to him for his thirteenth birthday. I had found the piece myself while we were out wandering the rocks of our hometown. I had felt like a pirate, discovering lost treasure. Red sea glass was considered more rare, but it wasn't as beautiful to me.

I tried not to stare too intently as the familiar jewel glistened in moonlight.

I couldn't tell if it was the similarities or the differences that made it all more difficult, or maybe it was just seeing them all thrown together.

I knew that he was also taking in the sight of me, and my skin flushed under his eyes, partly from anger. It took a lot of nerve to show up like this out of nowhere and look at me like that. I crossed my arms. He grinned at this and took another step forward. "Jesus, Di. I mean, you've always been pretty, but you look like a goddess."

I raised my chin a little. "True." My defiance and confidence only made him look more pleased.

I wanted to scream and run away like I'd seen some kind of monster, but his smile only deepened, and I felt pinned to the sand. "It is really good to see you," he said, stepping forward again, his voice a little lower. "What are you doing here?"

"Going for a swim, same as you," I said, trying to act unfazed as he stood only three feet in front of me. If I looked like a goddess, then he certainly resembled my male counterpart, like a masculine version of Venus rising from the sea. His handsome face was caught between youthful and rugged now, resembling some ancient Greek sculpture.

He let out his bright, confident laugh—the one that could be just a little mocking if he wanted, but it never was for me. "I meant, what are you doing here in Greyport? The swimming part is apparent."

"I live here now," I said reluctantly, and before I could try to extricate myself from this strange, humiliating situation, I heard the approaching engine of a boat and glanced over his broad shoulders to the water.

"Del!" exclaimed one of its occupants. It looked like one of the pontoons I had seen cruising around. It hovered a bit too close to the rock formation, but its passengers seemed incredibly unconcerned.

It wasn't a large pontoon, but from this distance and darkness, I could see that there were probably about two young men and two young women crammed on there, all of them in bathing suits with no life jackets, all of them holding beers. The only reason I could see anything was because they had a disco ball hooked up to the anchor light. It played over their faces with a dizzying number of colors.

The various people began calling out Del's name with more urgency. I realized that he must have jumped off that particular boat and just swam to shore. He had always been an excellent swimmer. People were alway trying to get him to join the swim team in middle school, but just like me, he hated chlorine swimming pools.

"I think your friends are looking for you," I said, deadpan, and he sighed, finally turning around to them. I wanted to use the opportunity to run away—to slink back in the shadows—but Del had stepped beside me to face them, and all of their eyes were on both of us.

"Hello!" called the guy at the helm. They had pulled the pontoon farther in, so I could see them fairly clearly now. Pretty soon they would unintentionally run aground. The helmsman had the same surfer look that Del had, with lots of shell bracelets and a corded necklace. "And who are you?" he asked me, tone full of interest.

Delmar crossed his arms, about to answer, but I answered first. "Diana."

"You leave us for five minutes, and we find you with a pretty girl," one of the women called, laughing, as if this were typical behavior. I bristled.

"I told you idiots that I'd come find you later," Delmar said, but he was smiling at them. It was a smile I had seen many times before—the one he had for other people. It was effortlessly charming, but there was just a little bit of an edge to it, like his perfect teeth could bite.

"Well, Diana," the helmsman said, and he put his cap on backwards for emphasis, nearly toppling in the process. "Will you please convince this deserting traitor to get his cute butt back here so we can go to a very fun party? And can you do that by just coming with us?"

"Afraid I'm not in a partying mood, but thanks so much for the tempting offer," I called back.

"Oh come on, Diana!" One of the young women—similarly attired—called. Why did they keep saying my name like we were all old pals?

"You look like you're dressed for a party," the helmsman said.

Del turned to me, and his smile was a little sheepish now, but it was all a part of the act. There was nothing apologetic in his eyes, not just for how jarring this all was, but for anything. There was nothing apologetic in his eyes for the last eleven years.

"You know, it could be fun. It would be a good way to catch up."

Someone on the pontoon began to play "I'm on a Boat" by T Pain, and everyone cheered. I winced at the cacophony.

A good way to catch up? In what universe?

"Oh sure, wasted twentysomethings boating around the harbor when a storm is due. Seems very chill," I quipped. "What could go wrong?"

His smile didn't falter. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"Right," I said with surprising force, and his eyebrow furrowed, which only annoyed me more. "It may have been eleven years, but you haven't changed a bit. As usual, you just do what you want, when you want. Well maybe you'll do what I want for once and just go to hell."

The anger had burst out of me like a storm, and I spun around, snatching my shoes and my purse. I heard him calling after me, and then I heard him running after me.

"Just leave me alone," I snapped, and he stopped. I didn't look to see the expression on his face for long, but I saw a flash of that kicked puppy look he had so perfected. I didn't remember to put my shoes on before stepping onto the road. The gravel bit into my feet with every step. Hot tears began to spill down my face.

🌊🌊🌊

At work the next day, I felt like I was in an entirely different world. Sophie asked more than once if I was okay, but I just claimed to be hungover, which wasn't a complete lie. I hadn't gone swimming that morning, even though the storm had died down to a sprinkle, and that had never deterred me before. But the beach didn't feel like mine anymore. The past had somehow managed to contaminate it.

At first, there wasn't even a small part of me that considered telling Sophie what had happened last night. First of all, I wasn't really sure what had happened or how I felt about it, and second of all, I felt silly for being so affected over someone I hadn't spoken to in eleven years.

When I arrived home the previous night, I had tried to convince myself that I didn't care at all, but it didn't last for long. It was too exhausting to bury my thoughts of him. Instead of trying, I would mope for a few days, and he would eventually disappear again. He probably wasn't even staying for the entire weekend.

By the end of the day, with a few too many coffees and just the right number of chocolate chip cookies to fuel me, I was feeling a little more energized. "So, tell me more about your night.

"She speaks," Sophie said. We were caught in a bit of a rare lull, and the boredom was threatening to melt my brain. I had taken to dusting things that didn't really need to be dusted, and Sophie had finally been convinced to sit down and rest her legs.

"Well, I don't need to," I threatened, and she smiled.

"There isn't much more to report, honestly," Sophie said. "The sushi was delicious, and then we ended up not stealing the dinghy because the storm came a bit too soon, and we had a few too many mai tais. Then we just kind of drove around in the storm. It was one of those warm rains, you know? God, I love those."

"Me too," I said softly, because I did. And instead of experiencing it, I had been crying myself to sleep.

"I wish you had been with us," Sophie said, but she didn't say it in a casual, throwaway manner. She wasn't in the habit of saying things she didn't really mean, at least to me.

I laughed a little awkwardly. "I think tonight will be enough socialization for a lifetime."

She grinned. "Well you could have conserved some energy by not going on that seemingly fruitless date last night."

"Well at least dates with idiotic men require a lower level of brain function than conversing with your pretty, successful friends," I said.

She scoffed, and I was suddenly close to telling her what happened, but I couldn't quite do it. "You are one of my pretty, successful friends," she said, and I didn't bother to protest.

Then her eyes lit up, as if she were remembering something. "And oh my God, speaking of idiotic men and pretty, successful people, I ran into this guy I knew in high school, Quinn Hollaway. He's kind of a goofball, but we did choir together. He was one of the only jocks I could tolerate, you know? So I told him to come, and he's bringing some friends."

Sophie had traveled around even more than I had in her young life, and I often forgot that she grew up in this very town. Greyport wasn't a complete lost cause, but I was always surprised that she had decided to return when she could have done incredible things in New York City or Boston.

Then again, her parents still lived in her childhood home, and they had a good relationship with each other. Sometimes I wished that I had been born here, just an hour's drive north of my own hometown, so we could have gone to school together. But then I remembered that I had only one friend in high school, and Sophie had probably been fairly popular, especially if she was inviting former jocks to her housewarming parties.

"I really hope he brings—" she started to say, and the door opened. Ruth herself strolled in with a comically large umbrella. I could feel Sophie tense immediately. Ruth had a habit of popping in whenever she wanted to, which could be once a month or once a day.

"Hello girls," she said with a wide grin that didn't sit correctly on her beautiful face. Her piercing blue eyes took in the sight of us with one swipe from head to toe. Sophie's smiles were usually genuine, so it was a little difficult to watch her try to fake one, but she made a valiant effort.

I did not.

"Ruth," I said, as if I were cursing with a different four-letter word.

"Oh Di, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Ruthie?" she asked, that strange smile never leaving her lips. I winced.

"How are you today?" Sophie asked, her voice both casual and polite, but I could see the way her keen eyes tracked Ruth's movement around the shop.

"I'll be much better once I'm on that massage bed in Honolulu on Tuesday, let me tell you," she said, her eyes lingering a little too long on the mannequins. The shop was undeniably pristine despite the busy day, so she needed to choose her target well.

"Oh girls, I told you that we weren't doing mannequins anymore," she said, wrinkling her nose. "You remember my friend Roland saying they just give him the creeps."

Roland gives me the creeps, I thought, but Sophie shot me a warning look, as if she were reading my mind, which she was.

"Well we sold a ton of things off the mannequin during the sale—"

"Yes, the sale," Ruth said, her eyes lighting up. "Jessica down the street said it was an absolute madhouse here, and I'm not sure that's the appearance we want to display to the world." She pretended to mull this over for a moment. "Yes, I think that was our last one. But never fear, I'm sure the next idea you have will be simply inspired."

Sophie looked too shocked to say anything in response, her mouth opening and then closing.

I couldn't help myself. "You're so funny, Ruth," I said with a forced grin that was meant to look forced. "First you claimed that it was your idea to have the sale, and now that you don't like it anymore, it's her idea again. You sure know how to keep us on our toes! It's hilarious." Sometimes Sophie would look angry when I made such remarks, but right now, she just looked exhausted.

Ruth's brow furrowed as she tried to sort out the disconnect between my tone and my words. In the end, she decided to just

ignore me. I wasn't entirely sure how I hadn't been fired yet. I had made Sophie promise not to stick her neck out for me. I think Ruth may have simply taken some strange pleasure in being my boss.

"Well, I was just passing through, but let's talk later this week, just the two of us, shall we?" Ruth asked, not sparing me a glance until she was leaving. Finally, she offered us both a grating little wave before she was gone. It was often like this. She would be in the store for little more than a couple of minutes and leave in a whirlwind.

I turned to Sophie. "Sorry."

She shook her head, watching the space where Ruth had been. A few customers, all middle-aged women, came in. Sophie greeted them with her usual charm.

"Does she even realize how much money you made for her yesterday?" I whispered under my breath.

"Of course she does," Sophie said, keeping the smile plastered on her face. "But I don't want to talk about that right now. I want to get through this day, and then I want to get plastered at my new place with my friends. How does that sound to you?"

"Simply delightful," I said with a smile, although going to the party was, perhaps, the last thing I wanted to do. I would do it for her.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

HELP YOU GUYS ARE ACTUALLY TOO SWEET!!

okay I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on any of my fics. honestly when I first posted them I didn’t even expect anyone to read them let alone actually enjoy them and I’m absolutely blown away with the amount of encouragement and positive things you guys have said.

thank you so much!! you’ve actually made my week and it’s so lovely receiving such lovely feedback. it literally means the world to me and I hope to write many many more fics for you guys to enjoy

as always, requests are open!! so if you want to see something, message me and I’ll try my very best to make it happen!!

be kind and stay safe, I love you all very much,

Bella 🤍