#I love ye so much I made the lighting on this page epic for you hehe <333

[ask-team-donum]

<Prev || First || Next>

[physalian]

#Writer Problems

Meet the 15th character in this series with a name that starts with A! No one will notice hahaha

Going back and deleting the sighs to shake things up a bit because there’s 120 in the manuscript

*checks notes* whoops you died already, Side Character, my bad

*one paragraph* Perfect. Amazing. Poetic. Profound. *the next paragraph* what is words do?

Knocking out a 6k word chapter in an hour/Spending a week on a single transition

*slaps down a shiny new character with zero plan* You don’t know anything about them and neither do I, let’s discover them together

Realistically, there’s gotta be at least one casualty from this fantasy battle so…. *rolls dice* no not you. *rolls dice again* yep. That’ll do. Sorry, pal.

Is this badass or stupid?

Is this hot or cringey?

*checks notes* damn it, plot hole.

Upon this most recent round of edits, you, Cool Side Character, no longer made the cut. Mayhaps you’ll be recycled later.

*checks notes* damn it, I fixed that plot hole by opening another plot hole.

Jesus christ I wrote ‘just’ 308 times across 120k words?

That is definitely not how you spell that

*dreams about my characters in full HD technicolor* awwww yeah, where’s the popcorn? *cannot replicate how cool it was in actual words*

Unes- Unnecs- Unessis- Unnessessarily- Unnecessarily fuck

Do I go with the British grey or the American gray?

*cries* this epic was supposed to be a novella

Well these two were supposed to be having an argument here. But making out is fine. I’d like to see where this goes.

Oops I forgot the straights, here that nameless dude over there isn't confirmed gay, so you can headcanon that he's straight if you want

Oops I forgot that marriage exists uhhh yeah their other parents are all dead or deadbeats

Fuck love triangles here’s a double-helix dodecahedron.

One day my fandom will write so much smut about this guy and I am here for it cause I sure ain’t doing it myself

Oops I forgot people with green eyes exist but brown eyes? I got 20

*describing the writing process* It was the best of times, it was the worst of times it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

I. Hate. Chapter. Titles.

Is this profound or pretentious?

*crafts an absolutely banger metaphor* I hope someone notices this. I put a lot of work into it

I didn’t spend 6 months perfecting this masterpiece for you to sass that the curtains are just blue. I’ll write the goddamn essay myself about all the depth behind my color choices, sir.

Picture that Spongebob dehydrated in Sandy’s treehouse meme ‘cause that’s me on round 12 of edits

I gotta be up for work in 4 hours but this monologue is more important

*distills 30 pages of worldbuilding notes into 2 paragraphs of a fluff scene* somebody will appreciate this, won’t they?

*listening to my book playlist* one day when this is adapted I hope this artist is still alive to compose the main theme cause this shit fucks

*cries* this trilogy was supposed to be just one book

If I turn this plot hole into a character flaw, they become the problem while I remain god

*looting themes, monologues, character names, and archetypes off the corpses of my dead WIPs* You won’t miss them anyway.

While it also immortalizes this person’s dickish behavior, yes, I will, in fact, write a whole character’s backstory as a middle-finger to this one bitch from 10 years ago.

*steps back to gaze at all the suffering done unto my deuteragonist* but it was worth it, wasn’t it?

*staring down yet another loathsome action set piece* whyyyyy do I do this to myself?

Nobody’ll notice my author insert if I dice them up and divvy them out in bits to my entire cast, right? Right? It’s like a shell game of what’s author and what’s fiction

These two are going to be a problematic ship one day and I will burn that bridge when I get there

*2am and I am scouring the internet for that one piece of a fort’s defenses because not remembering is the current root of my insomnia*

*Nudging my favorite character who isn’t the protagonist out onto stage* golly I hope the readers like him

Waiting. For. Editors. Takes. So. Long.

Holy butts accidental motif and deep symbolism fucks. I am so pretending I did that on purpose.

To subtext or not to subtext? Nah, to subtext. *laughs maniacally*

Trying to ride that line between so obvious it’s painful but also juuust enough foreshadowing so you slap yourself for not seeing it sooner

TIL that I have been using that word completely wrong for years. How quaint.

No you’re derivative schlock. I’m crowd surfing the books that came before and loving every second of it.

Damn I wasted a really good name on this throwaway character

*checks notes* wait, who's taller? Where does your hair part? Are you left or right-handed?

*musing over a character slated for death* damn, I really like you. Since I am in fact god, you shall live another day. *rewerites the entire finale*

God I hope people like this story

[whimsical-blood-fairy]

spoilers for the gold finch!!!! but i need to vomit about this book !!!!! these are some of my sporadic thoughts im stewing over

there's a review on the very first page of the goldfinch that calls this book an 'epic love story' which originally made me do a hard eye roll but upon reading The Final Pages i had a realisation that made me feel so silly for not seeing it sooner: this isn't a love story about theo and pippa (she does play into it of course, i mean you dont spend 30k on a necklace for just anyone), but a love story about ART. theo's love for the painting. his love for antiques, furniture. his love for his mum. his love for his mum projected onto the painting... fuck me. realising this put the whole story into a new light for me and im SO glad it didn't turn out to be a plain old romance.

he's so infuriatingly nihilistic, more and more as he gets older, but at the very end we see his love for persevering through it - some (borderline) masochistic way of living, he describes it as the meeting point between despair and otherness, where lives the sublime. he says, yes, im depressed and traumatised, but it is here, in this middle place, that i experience joy. and then he literally is: in his #redemption arc where he's buying back all the fakes and staying in hotels, napping in airports.

also the way he describes his dreams about his mum; not of her presence but of her absence. hits so hard im reeling. that gut ache of knowing you have just missed that person. they're just around the corner, wait! and then you wake up.

god and i really loved the the chapters set in las vegas. that feeling of teenage boredom and invincibility. hazy nights, stupid best friend, almost in love with one another. stuck in the middle of nowhere, can't escape. vodka and beer and weed just to make the days go by. ughhhh i loved this part because i so so so related to the feeling you have as a teenager of it going on forever; you will always be 15 and nothing matters. fuck while i was reading it i was hit with so much nostalgia. fucking around with your friend like you're at the edge of the world and nothing matters. sprawling desert all around.

i read a reddit comment talking about the ending: not overly sentimental but left you swooning. exactly it! theo is a fuckwit but he sure made me feel just a little bit better about this life i must keep on living!! there's so much i could say about this book but im still in shock that ive finished it... i will read it again one day and i cant wait for the new meaning i extract from it then

[the---hermit]

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang

I have read this book at the speed of light and I have no idea how that happened. For some reason I expected to find this book harder to get into, and yet after the first 40-ish pages I couldn't put it down, and ended up reading it in three days and a half. This novel has been all over the internet for a while now, but only after speaking to some friends who were enthousiastic about it I decided to give it a try. I specifically bought it for my holiday, because I thought it would be the perfect time to dive into a long book. I can confirm that staying at the seaside is the best way for me to really get into a book like this, and after the great reading experience I had I am really excited for the other two books in the series.

This fantasy novel heavily inspired by China focuses on a main character of poor origins who hopes to escape her desitiny by getting into a military academia. The theme of war is of course predominant, and the more you get into the book the more it becomes central. I feel like the biggest strenght of the book was the world building, the heavy histoical inspiration works amazingly, and throughout the whole story it feels like a very realistic world. The fantasy element was a surprise to me, but it was really interesting and I cannot wait to see more of in the rest of the series. As I was saying war is central in the story, and it is not depicted as the very common epic fantasy battle between good and evil. It is war. It's brutal, violent and scary. All feelings surrounding it are complicated. It's not an easy to digest book in this sense, if you don't like reading very graphic violent scenes, it is not the book for you. But all of this makes the war you are reading about feel very real, and it's terrifying. Anger and rage are also central to the plot and they slowly become bigger and bigger as the story goes on. There have been only a couple of things I have not liked in this book. Firstly I found there were a couple of very predictable scenes (see more in the spoilery section below the cut). They were marginal elements, but still they brought me a bit out of the story and reminded me that yes I was in fact reading a book of fiction. Secondly and mainly I don't feel like I became attached to any of the characters at all. While reading the book I was into the story, but as I finsihed I have not really thought of any of the characters. I would have loved to know more of some, but I feel like just know them at a surfice level. I am a plot over characters person, but still after reading a 600+ pages I was not expecting this. A friend gave me a really interesting interpretation of why that choice might have been made, and it definitely gave me some perspective.

Overall I would really recommend this book. I would check the trigger warnings before, since as I said it's very graphic and heavy. With this being said I think it was a great addition to my fantasy collection, and I cannot wait to get the second novel.

Spoilery section regarding what I think felt very predictable in the book:

In general the first part of the book set in the academia felt a bit predictable overall, but especially the fact that at the end of the first year the main character and her rival get to be the ones to fight in the last big trial was so obvious. It was so predictable, I honestly don't know what the author could have done to avoid it, because I understand that scene was fundamental and necessary, but I didn't like how predictable it was. Also the fact the after the battle at the war capital the main character's best friend is among the survivors felt super predictable to me. I like the character but the way everything was set felt unsurprising, I was expecting her to find him and again that made it feel much more fiction-y to me. I don't know how to explain it, in a book that feels so brutal and real small elements like this bring me back into reality and remind me that it is in fact a fictional story.

[minipliny]

For the end of year book asks: 11, 17, 25 please and thank?

11 A book that was most out of your comfort zone

Probably Idol by Louise O'Neill! I don't usually read books that are set right in the present day, or thrillers, or books about social media/the Internet, but I am glad I read it. It's about an Instagram influencer promoting spirituality, self confession, and feminist healing who is herself accused of sexual assault by a childhood friend, so, major content warnings for discussion and depiction of sexual violence. I thought it was quite a compelling take on the kind of parasocial relationships gone wrong of the Internet era and how the idea of the first person confessional tell all can sometimes not be about truth but about crafting a certain type of story. I often wince at stories which are meant to capture ~the zeitgeist~ but this felt like a specific story about a specific situation that stuck its landing rather than like reading an op Ed.

17 Top 5 books of the year

Petina Gappah, out of Darkness, Shining Light which I am instantly and personally recommending to you because it is the story of Dr livingstone's African servants transporting his body to the coast from their perspective and Gappah creates an incredible transformative text and set of characters I'm still thinking about, it 2as brilliant

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke. This was absolutely fantastic, also impossible to pigeonhole into any known genre or situation. It's still swirling around in my mind and i just love how completely perfectly realised and also deeply ambiguous the House is. It's not a metaphor, it just is.

The Shadow King, Maaza Mengiste. Made me cry very hard for the last 100 pages which is hard to do. A proper modern war epic, that somehow summons up all the honour and glory of the characters facing down the Italians with all the terrible ugliness and gendered violence and hierarchies and contradictions of their lives and societies at once.

Afterparties, Anthony Veasna So. A set of short stories set in California in the Cambofian diaspora which contains the most fantastic story about trying to teach Moby Dick in the Bay Area and what Moby Dick even means and what being a professor and being expected to represent anything in writing even means and which is just like layer upon geological layer of meaning as well as really, deeply funny and well observed.

Transcendent Kingdom, Yaa Gyasi. On a lot of people's lists, and I gave in and read it, and it is that good. I love a book about doing neuroscientific experiments on rats with cocaine, and I love about faith without being about faith in any obvious way. But what put this on my top 5 is that there is so much hope in its narrative in the bittersweetness of it, and I felt like I really needed that when I read it.

25 Did you discover any new authors?

Yes! Jess Kidd, The Night Ship, which is an amazing retelling of the Batavia sinking and mutiny which I almost put in my top 5, Petina Gappah whose second book I'm now reading, Margaret Drabble (not new as in now, but new to me) after reading the Seven Sisters, Mavis Gallant whose short stories blew my mind, Elizabeth Strout, Julie Otsuka, Moris Farhi, Darragh Martin....

[1-800-iluvhockey]

okay hear me out either

1. Hughes sister is a singer so she made the album sour, and then starts dating like mark estapa or Ethan edwards

Or

2. Jack or Luke dating the reader and she made the album sour

In light of the grammy’s tonight, and sour / OR’s 3 GRAMMY WINS !!! I had to post this one !!! so doing our golden boy eddy on this!! because most of my edits have been about the hughes bros! (sorry mark I love you!! someone should request a idea for him!!) also I could do see eddy being a secret olivia rodrigo stan lol

I could have done MANY things for this one! and I decided to change the request a little (sorry not sorry and I did it wrong and didn’t want to change it LOL) but this will just be highlighting her album (just her songs and everything, I will not getting into all of her extra things like snl & stuff on this request)

(all photos are not mine and the storyline is fiction!! of course my inspo is olivia rodrigo!!)

————————

y/nhughes

liked by @edwards.73, @lhughes_06, @jackhughes86 & 2,784,537 others

y/nhughes - hi hi!! thank you for all the love on my single, driver’s license in these past few weeks!! you guys just broke the record for fastest solo song to reach 500 mil streams on Spotify!!! 🌈❤️‍🔥🦋 Idk what I did to deserve this but thank u 4 listening and thank you to @dan_nigro (and of course my boy E) !! ps - surprise!! my boy E can finally make a appearance on my page <33 !!! his support has gotten me to write this album (and feed me tons of ice cream through my process of writing) again, I love you so much E and thank you for supporting me and being the best bf ever!! ur stuck with me🖤🖤

tagged @/ edwards.73

view top comments

mtv - a record and relationship well deserved !!!!! congrats bestie and we can’t wait for the album 😌😌

conangray - go best friend go best friend !!!!! 💜🖤

irisapatow - seriously so proud of you 🥺🥺

↳ y/nhughes - I love you guys 🥰🥰

umichhockey - she’s a icon, a legend & she is the moment 😎

edwards.73 - so so proud of you babe!!

↳ y/nhughes - love you loverboy 🥰🥰

thombordeleau - Y/N THE RISING STAR

brendanbrisson - THE SHINING STAR

lhughes_06 - hated third wheeling during your writing process lol but congrats sis 🤍

markestapa - roomie’s girl is a superstar in the making !!! congrats y/n/n on the record shattering single!!

↳ y/nhughes - thank you twin & his cool friends :)

elblue06 - oh so proud of you n/n’s!!

↳ y/nhughes - love you mama ❤️

jackhughes86 - GO LIL SIS

nhl - BIG THINGS HAPPENING IN THE HUGHES FAMILY (and we aren’t talking about hockey 😜)

quinnhughes_ - YES FINALLY SIS!! our mini swift is finally releasing her music !!! and as much as I dislike the thoughts of you having a bf…….. @edwards.73 is pretty cool….

↳ y/nhughes - thank you nhl !! and older bros <3 also Q he is so cool, like the ice cream he buys me when I write ;)

quinnhughes_ - oh that was such a bad joke mini swift 😭

————————

edwards.73

liked by @y/nhughes, @umichhockey, @markestapa & others

edwards.73 - baby’s first single broke records !!!!! so we (aka the boys and I) threw her a little party to celebrate!! so proud of my girl and her accomplishments!! 🤍🖤💜. #y/nhughes’biggestfan #brokethe500milstreams!

tagged @/ y/nhughes

view top comments

dylanduke - the amount of time we put into those decorations…..

↳ mackie.samoskevich - @dylanduke literally sat back and watched us fail….. get a load of this @markestapa

↳ markestapa - DONT EVEN TALK ABOUT THE DECOR !!!

↳ y/nhughes - I thought it was great (and dylan did sit back and facetimed me for some of it so I have your great & epic falis in my camera roll)

lhughes_06 - ^^ ladies and gents, my sister (the ultimate singer/songwriter , and truly, a hughes sibling)

↳ edwards.73 - the superior hughes sibling

irisapatow - icons😸 glad that that the boys have been taking good care of my best friend while she is in mich!!!!

↳ edwards.73 - u , n/n’s & conan are the icons

↳ conangray - totally agree with y/n’s man on this (we are too iconic lmao)

thombordeleau - it was not easy trying to distract y/n/n all day

brendan.brisson - I thought it was fun…… :/

↳ y/nhughes - I LOVED SHOPPING WITH BRISS idk what you’re on @thombordeleau

————————

y/nhughes

liked by @edwards.73, @lhughes_06, @elblue06 & 5,537,628 others

y/nhughes - debut album is coming on may 21 !! and my second single, deja vu, is streaming now if you want to give it a listen!! 🦋🌈💖

ps: also just a reminder that girls in happy relationships can write about their breakups !! my dms have been full of hate in light of me announcing my relationship to the world…… this is NOT about my current relationship, I promise ;) because life with my boy, @edwards.73 is too sweet !! ❤️

view top comments

edwards.73 - SOUR !!!!!!!!!!! 💜🖤

↳ y/nhughes - 🍭💜🌈🦋

conangray - YES YES YES

irisapatow - GO BESTIE GO!!!!!

↳ y/nhughes - my dear friends ❤️‍🔥

elblue06 - seriously so proud of you!! my little rockstar 🌟

↳ y/nhughes - MAMA ❤️

jackhughes86 - little sis is getting it done!!!! can’t wait to listen to it 🥳

trevorzegras - LITTLE HUGHESY 🎉🎉 COME BACK TO CALI

↳ y/nhughes - soon enough trev :)

_alexturcotte - SO HAPPY FOR YOU SIS!!! this album is going to be 100/10 (also thanks for letting me listen in LA)

↳ y/nhughes - LEXI LEX

mtv - 🍭🌈💜 going to listen to deja vu on repeat until may 21st

umichhockey - The team is y/n’s BIGGEST FANS !!! off season will be even better when we can add SOUR to our playlists!!

↳ y/nhughes - my peeps!!! 〽️👍🏻

————————

edwards.73

liked by @y/nhughes, @umichhockey, @thombordeleau & others

edwards.73 - angel just announced her debut album and I just wanted to again congratulate her on this huge step in her music career! it’s just getting started, and I’m very grateful to have met you and got not only the chance to support you as a friend, but love you as a boyfriend. you mean the world to me and you deserve the WORLD!!!

(also HUGE thanks to @taylorswift13 for your music and giving y/n the chance to make music like you (her muse), Luke for not killing me on the spot when I said that I liked his sister, and Jack & Quinn for not killing me when I got introduced to them as her boyfriend and not Luke’s friend)

PRESAVE SOUR by y/n hughes & listen to her second single, deja vu RIGHT NOW!!!

tagged @/ y/nhughes

view top comments

y/nhughes - I love you E !!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

↳ edwards.73 - to the moon……

↳ taylorswift13 - and to saturn? 😌

y/nhughes - NO WAY 😭 STOP THIS ISNT REAL

↳ edwards.73 - hi hi taylor!!!! we love you <33

↳ taylorswift13 - oh you guys!!! 💖💖 I’m such a huge fan of yours @y/nhughes !! cannot wait for your debut! please don’t hesitate to call me when you get back to LA!

↳ irisapatow - @taylorswift13 she is crying on the phone to me right now and can’t type, but yes….. SHE’D LOVE TO

lhughes_06 - @edwards.73 seriously…….what can’t you do for my sister right now??

↳ edwards.73 - marry her lol

↳ lhughes_06 - WOAH

↳ quinnhughes_ - especially after today, soon buddy, soon @edwards.73

jackhughes86 - never thought that anyone would be GOOD ENOUGH for my sister …… @edwards.73 proves me wrong like every day

thombordeleau - SIMP FOR Y/N HUGHES ALERT FOR ETHAN CALE EDWARDS

↳ brendan.brisson - BEEDO BEEDO 🚨🚨

markestapa - jealousy, jealousy :) (you must tell me how you accomplished this, eddy)

dylanduke - E.C.E IS A KING FOR THIS

mtv - we need more eddy & y/n !!! 😭❤️

————————

y/nhughes

liked by @edwards.73, @taylorswift, @quinnhughes_ & 3,637,289 more

y/nhughes - the past month has been crazy!!

* released my third and final single, good 4 u

* got nominated and went to a award show or two and met my IDOL tswizzle

* made another music video!!!

sour is right around the corner, and I cannot wait for you guys to hear it ❤️‍🔥

tagged @/ taylorswift13, mtv, & dan_nigro

view top comments

taylorswift13 - you are a walking angel, y/n/n ❤️❤️

↳ y/nhughes - I am still in AWE THAT WE ARE “FRIENDS”

↳ taylorswift13 - best of friends now 😌

irisapatow - no invite? jk jk

conangray - MY QUEENS !!!!!!

↳ y/nhughes - my besties :-)

edwards.73 - ROCKSTAR 🌟🌟

↳ y/nhughes - looooooveeeeeerrrrrr 💖

mtv - our little shining star!!!!!!

snl - ready for sour because it’s going to be sweet ?! 🍭🌈

————————

y/nhughes

liked by @elblue06, @edwards.73, @jackhughes86 & 4,071,656 others

y/nhughes - my first album SOUR is out everywhere now.

EVERY song is so personal and close to my heart. getting to share them with people is the most special thing I've ever done in my life. thank u to everyone who made this album happen. thank you to my manager, Kristen Smith, for believing in me and supporting me with absolutely everything in her. thank you to Christiana Divona, Marissa Ramirez, Kirsten Stubbs and Michelle An for bringing SOUR to life visually and being the most caring ppl in the world. thank you to Matt Morris, Emerson Redd, John Janick, and Sam Ribak at interscope for being so supportive and tender with my vision. thank you to Casey Smith for writing jealousy, jealousy with me and Alexander 23 for coproducing good 4 u. thank you to Dan Nigro for making this entire body of work with me in his garage lol. his undeniable talent and undying belief in me has forever changed me as an artist and a person. lastly, thank you to my family, my friends, my boyfriend , and of course my fans for supporting me and loving me along this long journey!! whatever happens with the album I'm just so grateful I got to work with all these incredible people. And I'm so lucky songwriting and music exists. I hope you guys enjoy the 34 minutes and 46 seconds of me spilling my guts out that is called sour. thank you for helping me turn all my unhappy feelings into one of the best moments of my life💜💜.

comments disabled

————————

edwards.73

liked by @y/nhughes, @thombordeleau, @lhughes_06 & others

edwards.73 - my little rockstar of a soulmate released her debut album today. she has worked so hard in this album, and it is truly a work of art…….

stream SOUR by y/n hughes !!!!!

#sheisthebiggestswiftiesoyouknowitsagooda**album

#sour #y/nhughes’no.1fan

tagged @/ y/nhughes

comments disabled

————————

abbster’s taglist: @owenpwr @oowenspower @hockeyboysarehot @hockey-lover86 @yorkshirespirlo @hockey-lover-22 @pulpfixion @the-stars-shine-above-us @studsccsnackavoybambi @bellaguarneri @juliasahoshughes @dylandukerr @pierrelucduboiis @oskarlidblom @boeswhore @dracoswhore007

[dearorpheus]

Hello Dearorpheus! Maybe this is too random but do you know of good analysis (books/essays/whatever other format) of Milton’s Paradise Lost? I adore your blog!

hello! hmmmmm

- both of percy shelley’s works on the devil, and devils and a defence of poetry (screenshot from the former)

- i like to emphasise the link between paradise lost and mary shelley’s frankenstein

- this interview with emily wilson (first woman to publish a translation of homer’s odyssey *into english) who says, in reference to this passage:

I first awaked, and found myself reposed Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound Of waters issued from a cave and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved Pure as the expanse of heaven; I thither went With unexperienced thought; and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seemed another sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite, A shape within the watery gleam appeared Bending to look on me, I started back, It started back, but pleased I soon returned, Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks Of sympathy and love;

sexie, yes? actually this article which i read recently also refers to eve as narcissistic and i find that v disappointing but it’s okay otherwise

- highly recommend you head to keatslibrary.org to read john keats’ annotations on his copy of the poem:  “milton in every instance pursues his imagination to the utmost…he sees beauty on the wing, pounces upon it and gorges it to the producing his essential verse…” / “the light and shade – the sort of black brightness…the thousand melancholies and magnificences of this page – leaves no room for anything to be said theron, but : ‘so it is’-.”

- i adore this essay from the public domain review which i think is actually phillip pullman’s introduction published in a new edition of the poem

- the enduring relevance of lucifer (unfortunately with a focus on america but some of it is of interest)

- of course you have to look at both gustave dore’s and william blake’s illustrations for the epic

- peer at john martin’s pandemonium, which depicts the capital of hell in paradise lost, 1825 

- milton’s astronomy: the astronomy of ‘paradise lost’ by thomas n. orchard is fun to flip through

and perhaps to conclude, refer to this ask from elucipher

*edited thanks to @/robertcapajpg, who brought to my attention that other translations have been made by women into other languages

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hello, if you don't mind, could I request headcanons of Diluc and Kaeya with an s/o who has cat traits?

(To be more specific, s/o has actual cat ears and tail, which makes their mood really easy to read. And they'll even purr when they're feeling really comfy and relaxed, like during cuddle time or they're getting headpats.)

^ thank you for the request! Don’t give these boys another reason to fall in love with you, uGH

Warning -> none, fluff 

Includes: Diluc, Kaeya

character x GN reader  |  Anthology

Diluc

Diluc is a pretty relaxed person. He keeps in his own lane and doesn’t much react to others unless they irritate him. So, he wouldn’t change much if his partner had unique features, or looked different than others 

The fact that you had cat-like features didn’t bother him, in fact, he found those features to be very helpful when he wanted to read you 

No matter how hard you tried, he was able to tell when you were cross, when you were happy, or when you were feeling embarrassed

Diluc walked down the path to the winery and saw his staff hard at work. Some of them in the fields picking out the ripe fruit, others preparing for the shipments for their destination to eager customers. He saw you talking to one of the sales clerks, a stack of documents in your hands. He noticed your ears were flicking and turning, something about the conversation must have been irritating. 

As he made his way up the steps the conversation you were in had ended. You sighed and looked out over the orchard, before coming to rest on him.

“Diluc!” You shouted, your ears perking up and your tail swaying back and forth. “I didn’t expect to see you back yet.” You walked toward him and he greeted you with a nod and placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“My business finished early.” You both stood there for a while, just basking in each other's presence. “Did something happen with the sales clerk?” He asked, gesturing in their direction. 

“Huh? No.” 

“Oh, you just seemed upset when you were talking to him.” 

“Oh, yeah.” You look at your documents and away from his eyes. “I was explaining to them how we needed to make sure to stick to the route. Last time we lost precious time because they got lost.” 

“I see. I’m sure the store owners appreciate your diligence.” He glanced around and when he saw no one was looking he placed a kiss on the top of your head. He watched as your ears turned and dipped against your hair. “Do you need any assistance?” 

When he pulled away he saw the color of your cheeks and smiled. 

“Not sure, I was going to go check on the fields, and then check our delivery schedule.” Diluc grabbed the documents from your hand and gestured down the steps.

“You handle that, and I’ll get started on this.” He watched as you bounded down the steps and toward the vineyard. Your tail happily dancing around you. 

Kaeya

Kaeya is all about your features. He thinks they are such an amazing part of you and often finds himself drawn to them

He may not keep his hands to himself - and he especially enjoys how expressive they are. They are so useful when he wants to know exactly how you are feeling, or how he is making you feel 

There is something about your pleasurable humming when you feel safe and comfortable around him which is so soothing

He walks into the Library and see’s you sitting beside one of the large windows. You are quietly reading a book and basking under the sun which spills through the glass. There are particles of dust that catch in the light. It is just a beautiful scene and he wonders if it’s okay to disturb you. 

The floors creak beneath his feet and alert you to his presence. You lift your eyes from your book and when you see him standing there your neutral expressions shift into a warm smile, your ears perk up. 

“Hey,” you greet him, resting your book in your lap.

“Afternoon,” he walks to you and sits on the arm of your chair. “What are you reading?” 

“Mm, it’s just some storybook about brave knights and epic battles.” You place the bookmark in between the pages, the cover is smooth and you let your fingers run over it. 

“Sounds exciting.” Kaeya leans over and places a kiss on your head. He chuckles as your ears graze his chin. “I could tell you stories much like those.” “Ah yes, but these are of real heroes, my dear” You look up at him with a mocking grin, your ears playfully moving with your emotions. 

“Hey, I’ve done my fair share of heroic things.” He retorts. 

“Yes, but how many of those things did you manipulate behind the scenes, hmm?” 

“Whatever works, the outcome is still the same.” He shrugs his shoulders and closes his eyes. You let out a laugh and shift yourself in your chair. 

“Well, either way. What brings to the Library?” You look up at him and see the light glowing on his dark skin. He looks so dashing in this sunlight, as he does in any light. 

“I wanted to spend some time with you if you’ll be so inclined?” 

“Absolutely.” You take his arm and he lifts you from your chair. He runs his hands through your hair before kissing the tip of your nose. You let out a soft hum, almost like a purr as his lips connect with your face. You love how easy it was to love him.

[organabanana]

What spring does to cherry trees || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: mostly fluff, with some porn for flair, pre-canon, but also, post-canon, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees. What does that even mean? It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained. No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak. Kara doesn't like poetry. Until she does.

Notes: Written for a very patient anon who prompted me with “Seeing the cherry blossoms in Washington DC” but I got sidetracked by Neruda and my favorite of his poems and it turned into This.  It's poem number fourteen, found in "Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada" (Twenty love poems and a song of despair) by Pablo Neruda, which you can read here (Spanish) or here (English). I mostly translated the lines I needed myself, so I can't guarantee they'll match the official translation (I'm also not sure there is such a thing as an official translation, so there's that). With special thanks to the most patient anon in history for the prompt, to @lavenderrry for praising my vibes, and to @emiltons for the gorgeous graphic.

[ao3 link]

The first time Kara encounters Neruda's poetry she's nineteen and bored. In her defense, she thought taking a poetry class would make her feel sophisticated and cultured, but all she feels is annoyed at the insistence of using language to obscure your message rather than share it.

And yes, yes, she gets it. It all sounds very pretty and evocative. It's just Kara has been hiding her true self in plain sight for the last six years, and she can't understand why anyone would willingly and needlessly do that to themselves. To their feelings. She may never have been in love, but Kara is pretty sure if she ever is -- if her heart ever feels full to the brim with the kind of big feelings her professor keeps making them read in metaphors and symbolism -- she'll want to make them clear as day.

I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees.

What does that even mean?

It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained.

No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak.

***

Kara doesn't take any more poetry classes, and she doesn't think of Neruda (or any other poet, for that matter) for years. She has so many other things to think about. She moves to National City and starts working for Ms. Grant. She grows into herself, she thinks. She becomes Supergirl and feels more like herself than she has since her pod left Krypton. She dates, a little bit. Dips her toe in the dating pool, if you will. She meets Lena Luthor.

And that's the second time she runs into Neruda. Right there on a shelf in Lena's living room, on a book that looks well loved and well read, spine full of small cracks and lines from being opened over and over again. Kara has always thought you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shelves.  

"Pablo Neruda," Kara says, one finger tracing a line down the spine of the book like she's trying to read something in the pattern of the cracks, "I didn't know you liked poetry."

"I don't dislike it." Lena's heels click-clack on the hardwood floor before she sets the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table and sits on the couch. "Have you made up your mind on what we're going to watch?"

Kara can hear the faint electrical hum of the TV being turned on, but she's a bit too distracted by the book to focus on deciding whether tonight is a night for a romantic comedy or an epic drama. She couldn't say exactly why this book feels important. It just does. Maybe it's because Lena keeps so much of herself hidden somewhere not even Kara's X-Ray vision can reach, and finding little clues about her thoughts and feelings feels a lot like she's struck gold.

Yeah. Maybe that's why.

Her fascination with the book only grows when she pulls it out of the shelf only to find the title written in Spanish. "Veinte poemas de amor--"

"And a song of despair," Lena finishes in English. "Atonement? I've heard good things about it."

"No way. I said I could be persuaded to watch a tear jerker, but I did not sign up for actual depression." Kara brings the book along when she walks over to sit down next to Lena. She's so focused on the book, still, that she miscalculates her landing just by an inch or so and her thigh bumps against Lena's as she settles on the couch. But Lena doesn't move away, and Kara figures there's no reason why she should. They're friends, after all. Close friends. Figuratively and now very, very literally close.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." Kara speaks again, breaking the silence before it solidifies into something potentially awkward.

"I don't. It's a bilingual edition. Can we please pick a movie?"

Kara would love to do exactly what Lena wants. In fact, giving Lena everything she wants has become sort of a constant in this fledgling friendship between them. It just feels nice, you know? Giving her what she wants and making her smile. But this book. It's all so very distracting.

"So. Do you prefer the twenty love poems, or the song of despair?"

Lena rolls her eyes, but she can't quite hide the amused smirk behind the glass when she sips her wine, so Kara knows she's not nearly as annoyed as she's trying to appear.

"What is it with you and Neruda? I didn't know you were a poetry fan."

Kara scoffs. "I'm not." She still remembers the feeling of relief washing over her when she saw her passing grade on that stupid course and realized she'd never have to read another line of poetry in her life. "I don't even like poetry. I'm just curious, that's all."

Lena cocks one eyebrow at her. Studies her, in a way that makes color rise to Kara's cheeks and has her wondering if Lena can see through people, too. 

"Anyway!" Kara shakes her head like she's hoping that'll make the blush fade. "The love poems, or the song of despair?"

"The poems," Lena finally concedes, "and I'm very surprised you don't like poetry. You seem the type."

"What?" Kara is already thumbing through the edge of the book, trying to find the place where it'll open naturally and hopefully show her which of the twenty love poems Lena happens to like the most. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, you have a big heart. Big feelings." Lena looks into Kara's eyes like she's trying to read all those feelings right there in shades of blue, and Kara finds herself looking down at the book just in case. Just in case all those big feelings she can't even name herself are there for Lena to read. "Seems like a recipe for liking poetry."

Kara shakes her head and pushes her glasses up, just in case. Just in case the lead in them can shield more than just her powers. And just as she's about to argue -- just as she's about to tell Lena precisely why she doesn't like poetry -- she opens her book and her gaze lands on a familiar phrase.

"Quiero hacer contigo," she reads out loud from the page on the left, and her fingertip is already finding the next verse on the right when Lena finishes for her.

"What spring does to cherry trees."

If Kara was just Kara Danvers, she'd have missed it all. She'd have just heard her best friend speak a line from a poem that -- much like most poems -- means very little to her. But she's not just Kara Danvers. So Kara hears the way Lena's heart beats just a little bit faster. The way her breath catches just so. The exact fraction of a tone her voice drops when she speaks. The faintest hint of a sigh.

"See? This is why I don't like poetry." Kara chances a look into green eyes, and she's so very grateful Lena has no superhearing to tip her off to the way Kara's heart seems to trip all over itself.  "'I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees'. What does that mean?"

Kara swears -- she swears -- she catches Lena's pupils dilating just enough to make her think she knows exactly what the poem means. 

"It's not about what it means, Kara. It's about what it makes you feel." Lena lets out a soft chuckle, something light and airy like this is just a silly little conversation with no weight to it at all. Like she can't feel the way the air itself seems to have changed into something new. 

"Is it your favorite line?" Kara pretends she can't hear the way her own voice has changed, too.

Lena shakes her head. "No. My favorite is actually--"

Kara hears the DEO alarm before Lena's fingertip can make contact with the paper, and she almost considers ignoring it. She almost considers letting whatever danger is looming over this whole city have at it because finding out what's Lena's favorite line in her favorite poem seems far more important right now.

But of course, that would be crazy. Crazy! Kara would never.

"I'm so sorry, Lena, I--" Kara stands up, already hearing Alex's voice telling her where she's needed as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pretends to read a text, "I have to go. I forgot I had this thing with--"

"Go." Lena's smile is just small enough to make Kara's heart twist in an uncomfortable way that's become familiar since she started lying to her friend. "Sounds important. I understand."

Kara nods, just once. "Tomorrow?"

Lena's smile doesn't grow, but it suddenly reaches her eyes, and something settles in Kara's chest. "Of course. Tomorrow."

Five hours later, foe defeated and safely locked away at the DEO, Supergirl touches down on Lena's balcony. There isn't a single light on inside the apartment, and Kara hesitates for a second by the sliding glass door. She shouldn't sneak into Lena's apartment in the middle of the night. That's a little creepy, right? Even if she knows Lena's said over and over again Kara's welcome any time.

It's just.

That book.

Lena's favorite line.

Kara may never be able to sleep again if she doesn't find out what it is.

So with a non-zero amount of shame at her own choice, Kara ends up sliding the door open and slipping into Lena's living space. She listens for Lena's breathing to make sure she's asleep, and once she's satisfied that's the case she makes a beeline for the shelf and the now-familiar book. It doesn't take her long to find the page she'd been reading before, and soon enough she's reading the lines Lena had been pointing to.

How you must have hurt getting used to me, to my savage, solitary soul, to my name that sends everyone running.

The words wrap around Kara's heart like a vice. If she could do it without blowing her cover and putting Lena in danger, she'd go in her room right now just to wake her up and tell her what Kara thinks about her soul. About her name, too, while she's at it. She'd tell her everyone else is free to run if they want, but Kara isn't going anywhere. 

But she can't do any of those things. 

***

The two lines stay with Kara, sort of swirling under the surface of her thoughts. She never actively thinks about them -- about poetry in general, for that matter -- but they're there. 

She remembers them sometimes. When their friendship grows and strengthens and one day Kara realizes Lena may be the person she loves the most in the world (tied with Alex). When the secrets and lies catch up with her and she thinks she may have lost Lena for good. When she finally gets Lena back.

It's been five years since she snuck into Lena's apartment that one night to find out about her favorite line in her favorite poem. Five years since she's actively thought about Neruda and the book and the words inside it. But for some reason, when Kara wakes up a couple hours earlier than she needs to and finds herself unable to sleep, she feels like that's precisely what she needs to read to soothe her brain. Maybe poetry will have the same sedative effect it used to have in college.

Wearing only an old t-shirt, Kara walks out of the bedroom and into the living area, scanning the shelves where she thinks she last saw that book. It's hard to keep track when your book collection has multiplied and turned into more of a home library situation than anything else, but she eventually finds it -- spine still cracked and pages still well-loved and well-read -- and settles down on the couch.

Kara flips from poem to poem, not really paying attention to any of them. A line from the third and then two from the eighteenth and a word or two from the seventh, eyes flicking between the Spanish lines and their English counterparts on the other side of the page. It's soothing, in a strange way. Like white noise, she figures. Nonsensical but calming. Until she lands on the fourteenth. 

"Oh, those cherry trees," Kara half-groans in a whisper. The cherry trees and the spring and the convoluted way to say I love you. And Lena's favorite lines. 

Kara feels it all over again. The pang of pain at the sight of that line.

My name that sends everyone running.

It lands different this time, five years into a friendship that turned out to be so much more and nearly went up in flames at one point. Because of names and lies and... well. Everything else. Lena was right after all, wasn't she? It's not about what the poem means. It's about what it makes you feel. And right now Kara feels a lot more than she'd be able to put in words if she had to.

Maybe Mr. Neruda was on to something after all.

"Hey," Lena's voice is laced with sleep, and Kara smiles as she listens to her footsteps bringing her closer, "what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Kara wouldn't call it the middle of the night -- more like a very early morning, really -- but she's not about to argue. "Reading. I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" Lena reaches the back of the couch and makes the most of the rare height advantage over her girlfriend to press a kiss to the top of blond hair. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kara opens her arms before Lena can even think about sitting next to her instead, and smiles at the familiar weight of Lena sliding onto her lap. Even as she shrugs off Lena's question, Kara is already burying her face against the soft skin of her girlfriend's neck, breathing her in and letting the familiar scent filling her lungs soothe her like no amount of poetry ever could.

"Kara," Lena's fingers slide into blond hair, blunt fingernails scratching at Kara's scalp and making her hum in delight, "that's not an answer."

"No reason. I'm just not tired anymore I guess." A deep, content sigh. "Baby, you're so good at that."

There's still a slight crease between Lena's eyebrows, but that doesn't stop the smile Kara's praise brings to her face. "You'd tell me if I had to worry?"

Reluctantly, Kara pulls away from the warmth of Lena's neck. Her arms wrap around Lena's waist as she looks into green eyes. "You know I would."

And Kara watches Lena let the words sink in. They've had this conversation before, and Kara knows they'll have it again. They both have sore spots that need special care from time to time. And just to keep Lena's mind from going down any sort of rabbit hole, Kara decides it's time to continue a conversation they left unfinished five years ago.

"It didn't hurt at all, you know. Getting used to you." Kara shows Lena the book she's been holding, and grins when Lena smirks as the reference clicks.

"I thought you didn't like poetry," Lena chides, taking the book and flipping through the pages until she lands -- unsurprisingly, if you ask Kara -- back on poem fourteen.

"I don't. It's like... giving feelings a secret identity."

Lena arches one eyebrow, looking somewhere between amused and curious. "Care to explain?"

"Well, you know," Kara leans in to steal a quick, soft kiss, "say I want to kiss you. I can just say it. That's better than hiding it behind some kind of... flowery metaphor that'll make you wonder if I'm even saying that in the first place. Right?"

There's this look on Lena's face. Kara knows it well. It's like a challenge. Like she's playing chess and she's already thinking six moves ahead and knows you're toast whatever you do from that point on. Kara finds it nothing short of delicious.

"So you're saying," Lena says, and there's victory right there simmering under the surface of her words because she knows -- she knows -- she's won, "you'd rather I say 'this is a lovely sunrise we get to see together'," Lena's gaze drops to the open book in her hand to refresh her memory on the line she's about to quote, but she makes sure she's looking into blue eyes once again when she speaks, "than 'so many times we've watched the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans', right?"

Kara swallows, hard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that will simply not be contained, no matter how hard she tries to keep some semblance of dignity. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, heart beating just fast enough -- hard enough -- that she's sure even Lena's plain human hearing can pick it up. And the look on her girlfriend's face lets Kara know she knows exactly what's currently happening to her.

"W-- well." Kara blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to physically clear the fog inside. To her credit, she thinks she manages to sound more indignant than turned on. "I mean that's unfair. You made it hot."

Lena lets out a delighted chuckle that hits Kara right in her heart, like a little pinball ball making it ding with the knowledge that Lena Luthor is happy enough to laugh. Really, truly laugh. 

"What?" Lena asks, still grinning, fingertips teasing the soft hairs at the back of Kara's neck like it's nothing -- like she doesn't know what she's doing to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ohh no, ma'am," Kara grins, cheeks still burning with the feeling simmering down low in her belly but too charmed by her girlfriend's teasing smile to stop, "you don't get to pretend you didn't do that on purpose."

"Kara," Lena says, in that way, because she knows, she knows, she knows Kara's weaknesses so perfectly well, and Kara wouldn't have it any other way, "I was just quoting Neruda, I didn't do anything."

"You did the voice thing!" 

"What voice th-- Kara, if you can't just admit plain language and poetic language are simply not on the same level I--"

"You purred the words! How is that fair!?"

Kara presses her lips together like she can retroactively keep the words from exiting her mouth. Too late, though. Lena looks positively delighted.

"I purred the words?" Lena echoes, barely able to keep a straight face. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. She's openly pleased with herself. Smug, even.

"I mean. I mean," Kara says, and she touches the bridge of her nose with one fingertip because for a moment she's forgotten there are no glasses to push up at all, "obviously it's not the same. Poetry and prose, they're inherently--"

"Different, right," Lena finishes Kara's thought, "so you see how you'd use one or the other depending on how emotionally charged--"

Kara shakes her head. "But you don't need flowery metaphors to convey emotion! You can just say what you mean and mean what you say."

"But you just said it yourself. It felt different when I just said it's a sunset, and when I quoted--"

"You purred poetry at me, Lena, of course I'm going to feel a certain kind of way!"

And there it is. Kara feels it in her bones. The checkmate Lena had seen coming a mile away. She sees it right there in the smirk on her girlfriend's face. In the way Lena's pupils dilate just so. The way her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she looks at Kara like she's lunch.

Or, you know. Breakfast, as the case may be.

"You feel a certain kind of way?" Lena shifts on Kara's lap and they've been together for long enough that Kara absolutely knows there's nothing innocent or coincidental in the way Lena's night shirt (Kara's high school gym t-shirt, mind you) rides up to expose Lena's lace-covered ass. "What kind of way is that, Supergirl?"

Kara perks up at the sound of her name. Her other name. Because maybe it wasn't checkmate after all. Maybe it was just check. Because the thing is, it's not just Lena knowing all of Kara's weaknesses. That knowledge very much goes both ways. And Lena calling her Supergirl? 

Oh, Kara is absolutely not the only one who's feeling a certain way.

"You know." Kara shrugs slightly, pretending to still be the mouse in this little game. She rests one hand on Lena's knee and lets her palm slide up her thigh, slowly, listening to Lena's heartbeat speeding up with each inch of skin Kara explores. "You know the way I mean."

Lena's breath hitches just so when Kara's hand slides further up, and Kara savors the sound of Lena's heart tripping over itself when her fingertips drag along damp lace.

"You're listening, aren't you?" Lena cocks her eyebrow, but her lips stay parted and her breathing comes in short, warm puffs so the whole thing really doesn't come off as stern as Kara is sure Lena would like. 

"Hmm?" Kara knows she's probably pushing her luck, but she bats her eyelashes anyway, her face the very picture of innocence as if her fingertips weren't tracing the very edge of Lena's panties, hinting at what they could (will) do if she just happened to push that fabric aside. "Listening to what, baby?"

Lena tries not to -- Kara can see the struggle right there in her eyes -- but she whimpers anyway, quiet and just barely audible to the human ear. 

"Kara." It tries to sound like a warning, but it falls just this side of pleading instead. Lena blushes so very pretty when she's feeling a certain kind of way.

"Yes, Lena?" 

"You're listening," a breath, slow and measured like she wishes she could take in a deep one but her lungs can't quite cope with that right now, "to me."

"Well, I mean," Kara shrugs slightly, like she can't feel the warmth of Lena's pussy against her fingertips, "I try to. I feel like it's good girlfriend etiquette."

Lena is trying so hard to look at least moderately annoyed. It's not working at all, but Kara can see that's her intent. She also knows exactly what Lena means, too. She means Kara is listening to her. To the beat of her heart and the air in her lungs and all the tiny, inaudible (for everyone else) sounds that tell her exactly how much Lena wants her. 

"You're listening to what you're doing to me." Lena drops the book on the floor to wrap both hands around Kara's neck, hips shifting forward just enough to get more contact with Kara's hand between her legs. Kara knows Lena doesn't need superhearing to notice the way Kara's breath catches in her throat. 

"And what am I doing to you, baby?" Kara won't cross the barrier of Lena's panties just yet, but her fingers becomes more purposeful, less teasing as two fingertips press against Lena's clit through damp lace. Lena's eyes flutter closed and she takes in a sharp breath that sounds almost like a gasp, and Kara rewards such a gorgeous sound with a kiss to Lena's jaw. "What Spring does to cherry trees?"

Lena must feel Kara's teasing grin even if she can't see it, because she lets out a breathless chuckle even as her hips start rocking to meet the movements of Kara's fingers. "Just admit poetry can express richer emotions than prose ever cou--"

Kara's mouth is on Lena's before she can finish her thought, and Kara would maybe feel a bit guilty for interrupting, but Lena's fingers fist in blond hair and pull her close and there's no way someone who's offended would kiss her like that. And Kara isn't even listening anymore, because Lena's tongue is in her mouth and all she can hear is her own heart thumping along anyway.

When she breaks the kiss, Lena keeps Kara close. She's panting slightly, breath hot and wet against Kara's lips and pupils so dilated Kara wonders if she can see her at all. A quiet, hitched moan escapes parted lips, and Kara swears there's nothing in the world -- in the universe, really -- more beautiful than Lena when she's like this. Like putty in her hands. And Kara just can't resist. 

"Admit you purred," she whispers against kiss-swollen lips, knowing if there's one chance for her to win an argument with her girlfriend this must be it. When she has Lena rocking against her fingers, wet and wanting and just the right amount of needy to get her to give in, for once. 

"Kara." It's practically a whine, and Kara swears it sounds like victory. Until she sees the glint in her girlfriend's eyes, and Lena gets her checkmate move after all. "Shut up and fuck me."

Kara feels the words rather than hears them. They hit right between her legs and spread all over her body, and you know what? Kara really is okay with losing under these particular circumstances.

Two fingers hook under the crotch of Lena's panties and Kara tugs lightly, almost like she's testing the strength of the lacy fabric. "Do you really like the..." Kara's voice trails off as Lena pulls the t-shirt up and over her head, blue eyes staring unabashedly at her girlfriends breasts as she struggles to finish her thought, "...these?"

It's just polite to ask before tearing someone's panties to shreds, if you ask her, even if you're currently transfixed at the sight of her breasts.

"I don't care." Lena's voice is doing that thing again, except this time Kara is pretty sure she's not doing it on purpose at all, it's just that's what Lena sounds like when she needs Kara now and isn't that just the best thing ever? "Baby, please, I don't care."

Kara doesn't know if she rips the panties off first and then leans in to catch Lena's left nipple with her mouth or if it happens the other way around, but she honestly doesn't care either, as it turns out. All she knows is two fingers slip inside Lena in one smooth, firm thrust, and her free hand grabs Lena's right breast, and then--

"More," Lena moans, breathy and greedy, but when Kara starts thrusting harder into her Lena shakes her head, "no, no-- more fingers," and Kara lets out a quiet whimper around the stiff nipple between her teeth. 

Kara pulls her fingers out of Lena and stretches her ring finger to join the first two before sliding them back inside. Her movements are slow and careful, all of her senses focused on detecting even the slightest hint of discomfort in her girlfriend until her three fingers are fully inside Lena. 

"Go on, Supergirl." 

Lena's tone is just the right amount of teasing to make Kara chuckle lightly, mouth leaving Lena's breast to trail kisses up her sternum and to the freckles on her neck as her arm starts pumping once again. She's so very close, Kara can tell, and even more so when she turns her wrist just so to press the pad of her thumb against Lena's clit.

Lena's fingers dig into Kara's scalp, into the strong muscle at her shoulder as Lena holds on and rides Kara's hand, hips rocking hard and fast in time with Kara's thrusts. Kara couldn't listen to any one thing if she tried. It's a symphony of sighs and moans, whimpers and ragged breaths and stuttering heartbeats that nearly overwhelms her senses until she feels Lena clench around her fingers, hips losing their rhythm as Lena comes with Kara's name on her lips.

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's neck just so she can look at her. Watch her come around her fingers and then relax, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch her breath. Kara swears there can't be a more beautiful sight in the universe, especially not now, with the sun rising and bathing Lena's damp skin in early morning light. And as much as Kara tries to suppress it, there's a thought running through her head. A line from that stupid poem with its stupid cherry trees.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body... 

"You're thinking very loudly," Lena whispers, already resting her head on Kara's shoulder as her fingertips play with the hem of Kara's shirt, "what are you thinking?"

For a second, Kara considers telling her, but Neruda's words aren't what comes out when she opens her mouth. "Just how beautiful you look," she says, which is in fact the truth. Kind of. She can't let Lena win every single time, right?

***

"Apparently the first cherry trees got here in 1910, but they had to burn them all because of a bunch of insects." Kara holds the little guide book in her hand as she reads, her other hand safely in Lena's as they walk along the Tidal Basin. "These ones are newer, from 1912."

 "Oh, like the Titanic!" Lena looks delighted with the coincidence, and the bright smile on her face makes Kara lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. Her fiancée is super cute when she lets her inner dork show, if you ask Kara.

"See? I told you buying an actual guide book would be worth it!" Kara holds the small book in her hand with the pride of someone who's just won an argument (for once). "Where else are you going to get that kind of high quality trivia?"

"You do know the prototype L-Corp keychain I gave you last week can access Google, yes?"

"Not the same."

"Not to mention the actual supercomputers we all carry around in our pockets. Or the high-tech communicator in your wat--"

"Lena!" Kara groans. "Look around! The cherry blossoms! The quaintness of springtime! A romantic stroll along the river! Where's your sense of romance?"

Lena chuckles lightly, her free hand sliding up Kara's arm to wrap around her bicep. And Kara would complain about the obvious use of one of her many Lena-related weaknesses, but you know what? It works.

"Kara Danvers," Lena says, voice low and teasing, "that's all very poetic."

Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't quite stop the bright smile that's already appearing on her face. "Don't you start with me," she warns, not very convincingly. 

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's shoulder, and it makes color rise to Kara's cheeks even through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Even after all these years. But she figures if there's one day to be particularly enamored with one's fiancée, that's the day she's scheduled to receive a Presidential Award for her contributions to science and the betterment of humanity.

Not to brag. But Kara is proud.

"I love you," Kara says, because she can't not, "and I'm just so proud, I--"

Lena presses a finger to Kara's lips, stopping what was potentially about to turn into a whole speech about the many ways in which Lena Luthor could not possibly be any more perfect if she tried. 

"Kara," Lena warns, all cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips, "you promised. You promised you wouldn't cry before the actual ceremony."

And Kara would argue. She'd argue that she's perfectly capable of going on about Lena's many virtues without actually crying, but you know what? Her eyes are feeling just a tiny bit misty already so she's just gonna go ahead and trust Lena on this one.

"You know what I also love?" Kara presses a kiss to the pad of Lena's finger and obediently changes subjects. "Sushi. Let's go get some." Kara starts walking away from the beautiful soft pink trees and in the general direction of the street festival, tugging Lena along. She's all for the romance of blossom-watching, but she'd be lying if she said hearing about the culinary side of this whole festival hadn't excited her a bit more than that.

It's only when she hears a sigh coming from Lena that Kara's focus shifts from food to the woman next to her. That wasn't a happy sigh. 

"Are you okay, baby?"

Lena smiles. It's not a fake smile, but there's a hint of something in it that isn't fully happy, either. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just... between the cherry blossoms and all this talk of sushi, I guess it made me a bit nostalgic for Sendai." 

"Sendai?" Kara looks at Lena with curiosity written all over her face. "What's Sendai?"

"Oh, it's a city in Japan. I lived there for a few months for an exchange when I was in college. Did I never tell you?" Kara shakes her head, her face the picture of delight at getting to learn something new about Lena. "There was this little restaurant near Tohokudai, I swear they had the best sushi in the world." Lena hums, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second like she's trying to imagine the taste. "I'd do anything for some negitoro maki from that place right about now."

Kara listens intently to her fiancée's words. She knows it's just a silly little comment. She knows Lena will be perfectly happy eating the undoubtedly delicious sushi currently being sold at the street festival. And yet.

She can't resist a chance to make Lena just that little bit happier, can she? 

So Kara looks around to make sure they're not being watched, and lets go of Lena's hand. "Be right back."

"Where are you--?"

But all Lena gets is a quick kiss and a gust of wind on her face before Kara disappears.

She's only gone for a couple of minutes -- just enough for Lena to wander back towards the cherry trees -- and when she comes back she's holding a small box which she immediately presents to Lena.

"Sushi for my... sushi," Kara lets out a chuckle, her now-free hand coming up to scratch at the back of her head like she's aware she may have gone just a little bit overboard but she's hoping it won't be too much, "Sendai's beautiful, by the way."

Lena's smile is soft, and Kara has a feeling -- not to toot her own horn -- if she'd been listening she would've heard Lena's heart skip a beat. 

"Kara Danvers," Lena sighs, shaking her head like that'll do anything to hide just how charmed she is right now, "you're something el-- what's that?"

"Nothing," Kara shifts slightly and puts her hand -- and the little carton box it's holding -- behind her back, fully intending on letting the focus of this moment be on her romantic gesture, but Lena raises one eyebrow and Kara loses her resolve. "Potstickers." Kara's voice is quiet as she shows Lena the box. "What? I was in the neighborhood!"

"In the neighborhood of," Lena squints slightly as she reads the words on the box, "Shanghai?"

"Well, China is next door to Japan, if you think about it."

Lena chuckles, clearly too charmed by this whole thing to even continue teasing Kara about it. "Thank you. For this. You didn't actually have to fly all the way to Japan to get my favorite sushi, but I appreciate it."

Kara shrugs, chopsticks already grabbing the first potsticker in the box. "I'd go way farther than Japan to make you happy. You know that."

"I do know," Lena nods, looking just a little thoughtful, like she's just now realizing she fully believes Kara would stop at nothing to make her happy, "you even promised when you proposed."

Lena wiggles her finger, flashing the kryptium ring that's been there for a few weeks now along with a teasing smile, and Kara can only shrug. "Well, I meant it," she says, popping the potsticker in her mouth and leaning against the trunk of a nearby cherry tree.

"I know," Lena says again, but this time she's smiling, amusement shining in her eyes, "if only Lex had figured out the one true way to have the world in the palm of your hand is to make a Kryptonian fall in love with you."

"To be fair, I really don't think your brother is Kal's type."

***

Eight hours later, they're seeing the Tidal Basin from above, the cherry blossoms looking nearly white in the moonlight. They could be in National City already, but Kara figures there's no reason why she can't take the scenic route with Lena in her arms and enjoy the view without the crowds and the bustle they experienced earlier today. Perks of being your own private jet.

"Go a bit lower, baby," Lena's voice is soft against Kara's ear, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud she'll break the spell and they won't feel like the only two people in the world anymore, "I want to see the flowers."

Kara doesn't make her wait. Lena's just been awarded an actual medal by the President, and spoiling her a little is the least Kara can do. So she dips until they're hovering just above the soft pink blossoms and then a little lower still, close enough that Lena can smell the sweet, fresh scent of Spring.

The night is clear and quiet, just cool enough for Lena to reach for Kara's cape and pull it forward to wrap it around herself. Kara holds her a little closer, just enough to hopefully provide a bit of extra warmth, and she figures it was the right move when Lena slips one arm from under Kara's cape to reach for the tree and pick a particularly pretty blossom from one of the branches that's closer to them.

Lena looks at it for a moment, twirling the little stem between her fingers like she's pondering what to do with it. And then she turns and tucks Kara's hair behind her ear, sliding the small flower between soft blond strands and smiling when she's satisfied it'll stay exactly where she wants it.

"Happy?" Kara chuckles, something soft and quiet and a little teasing because there's something equal parts amusing and endearing about Lena's perfectionism when it comes to silly little things like putting a flower in Kara's hair.

"Very."

And there's something about the way Lena smiles, more with her eyes than with her mouth, that makes Kara see, clear as day, just how serious Lena is. How sincere, when she says she's very happy. 

Maybe that's why Kara gets a little transfixed just looking at her, suddenly aware of just how different this Lena -- the Lena wrapped in her arms and her cape, wearing her ring and smiling with a smile that's just Kara's -- is from the Lena she first met all those years ago.

"Kara Zor-El," Lena's voice is soft just like the sound of Kara's true name on her lips, "what are you thinking about?"

And Kara wishes she had the words to tell her. But how does she even begin to explain what she's feeling right now? How she's still the same Lena that made Kara's heart trip all over itself the first time she saw her, but she's so very different all the same time. Brighter. Lighter. Loved. God, she's so loved, and Lena knows it, finally, and that's what's different, maybe. Not just Kara's love, because Lena's had that from the very first day, probably, but the fact that Lena can feel it now. 

How do you put that in words? I love you just doesn't feel like enough. 

And then it hits her.

"I'm thinking," Kara smiles, cheeks pink with the knowledge that she's just been proven wrong, "about what Spring does to cherry trees."

[vegalocity]

“Yes I had the day off. No you can’t prove I took it off for you. The only way to find out is by spending it all with me.” for Peachtea?

Ah hell yeah (Went with the 'Tang is a Sanzang reincarnation' angle for the lightest angst prod, it just fit for how it went)

--

Sun Wukong wasn't used to getting surprised. There were in fact only a handful of people who could surprise him nowadays, and most of those surprises were always negative because half of those people were mortal enemies. So needless to say, he was more than a little surprised when he realized Tang had to be added to that list.

The Scholar was sat in Wukong's usual favorite spot near his home, the perfect patch of sunlight he'd anticipating lounging in lighting up the pages of the book he was placidly reading, and looking for all the world like he belonged there with a couple of younger Monkeys near by and curiously peeking into his reading and Wukong wasn't even sure how he'd GOTTEN here without him knowing about it.

Then of course Tang looked up and grinned at him, and his gut fluttered briefly before Wukong internally derided himself for being such a damn Adolescent about this relationship. “How'd you get here?” he settled on, as much playful teasing as he could put into it. “Might have to up security if some handsome stranger can just traipse in like he owns the place~” Tang made no move to stand as Wukong approached and sat beside him, in the slightly less optimal position as only about half of him was in the perfect sunlight. Tang smirked back at him before pointedly looking back to his book.

“Well that's for me to know and for you to eventually weasel out of Xiaotian, isn't it?”

Figures. “I thought you had classes on Tuesdays? What you call in sick because you missed my handsome face?” Wukong grinned when he saw Tang's cheeks turn a bit pink “Geez, I know we got together when we were all seeing eachother daily but I didn't think I was THAT irresistible.” An equally big grin finally lit up Tang's face and in a way that was for a moment painfully nostalgic he put a hand on Wukong's cheek and pushed him away.

“Yes, I had the day off. No you can’t prove I took it off for you.” He peeked at him over the corner of his book again. “The only way to find out is by spending it all with me.”

“Well wow, what can I say to that?” Tang settled himself more comfortably into Wukong's side, flipping to the next page of his book.

“What are you reading?”

“The Epic of Gilgamesh, A Babylonian folk hero. One of my colleague's is going to do a comparison of folk heroes across the continent and I offered to give it a look over before she does proper peer reviews but I don't know like, half of these people she's comparing you with.”

“Oh~? I'm involved?”

“Well you're younger than a few of them but most of them didn't actually make it to immortality, so its a fair comparison.”

“Hm.” Well that was a bit of an ego boost he thought, This Gilgamesh guy might have come first but he failed. “How far are you?”

“If you're asking if I'll read it out loud for you, absolutely not.” Pff busted.

“I could probably convince you-” He tilted his head to the side slightly to press his nose into the scholar's neck. “Make it a game? How far could you get before I get reeeaaalllyyyy... distracting?”

Tang chuckled but didn't pull away from him.

“....'And so fair Ishtar, Goddess of Love and War, appeared before Brave Gilgamesh'- Hey! No teeth that's cheating.”

Golden Cicada wings invisible to any eyes but Wukong's fluttered with delight behind Tang's back despite his admonishment and Wukong's heart filled and ached at once.

[theonewhoimagined]

EMPIRE OF STORMS

Warning: SPOILERS & a really, really long post full of asjdakdjalskjdk

Empire of Storms needed a separate post BECAUSE THIS FREAKING BOOK IS JUST oh gosh I can't even begin to describe it

MY GIRL, AELIN, THE BADDEST FIRE BREATHING BITCH QUEEN ALIVEEEE. I love her so much and I was in tears after that ending like GIRLLLLLLLL I CANNOT (but at the same time yaas we love the angst). She's been through so much and only, in the end, did people finally realize they've been treating her like shit when all she's been doing is selflessly thinking about ways to help them and not herself. Yes, I'm looking at you, Aedion.

My heart hurts for Aelin. She's brilliant, wickedly cunning, and above all, selfless. Can you imagine learning about your fate has been decided centuries before you and you've been played by everyone your whole life? But she rose above it and continued to fight. I just adore her brilliant mind and penchant for dramatic grand reveals. Sure, she has her flaws, but man if that happened to me, I would've been worse and left them all to ruin. 😆 I love how she's not some fragile damsel in distress chosen one, but she's a fighter with a smart mouth full of snarky comebacks and has an attitude. The way she carries herself is so authentic and just so brave. I mean give her a break. After everything she's been through, of course, she'll toughen up. Again, she’s not perfect and did bad things too, but wow the males around her like to push her around and blame her every time shit goes down. When in reality, she thinks ahead and does it alone so as not to disappoint the world that has put so much burden and pressure on her. She owed them all nothing. But no, people forget that she did not choose this life and the choices she had to made were the best at the time, despite how reckless they are. @ Chaol, Dorian, and Aedion

SHE MADE PLANS FOR EVERYONE, BUT HERSELF. IF THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU WEEP, THEN IDK ANYMORE.

Honestly, that was the best way to end a book. SO EPIC & DEVASTATING!!! Why is this not picked up by Netflix yet? This is LOTR x The Witcher combined (I wanna put GOT too, but I never watched it 😅)

ANYWAY!!!

First and foremost, the 2 most crucial parts of this book that would have ruined me after finding out, but unfortunately did not because my snooping around the internet led to my ultimate downfall which is accidentally reading spoilers about the mate thing and the iron mask.

Rowan, oh my sweet darling Rowan. I just love Aelin and Rowan's dynamics. They're so perfect for each other because not only are they each other's equals, but they keep each other in check. I don't understand the people who hate Rowan's evolution when his sweet and devoted side has always been there and just hidden beneath his darkness. And the way both of them brought each other out of the dark tunnel of grief and entered the path towards the light together? BEST COUPLE AWARD ME THINKS

If Rowan wasn't a warrior, then he could very damn well be a poet because he makes me melt every time he opens his mouth.

"If someone saw how thoroughly I plan to worship you." I MEAN?!

“I kept thinking about how you might never know that I missed you with only an ocean between us. But if it was death separating us … I would find you. I don’t care how many rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again. Always.” This is from Heir of Fire, but if someone said that to me, I'd faint. ROWAN WHITETHORN, ILY TO WHATEVER END.

And after that ending, you mean to tell me I have to read 800 pages of Chaol really?! I read some pretty good reviews of Tower of Dawn, but I'm not in the mood for it now lol so I took it upon myself to skim over Kingdom of Ash because I am weak for Rowaelin and yes I accidentally read another spoiler, but no biggie pshhh

Also, I have to say Manon x Aelin is a pairing I never knew I needed. Just love how they banter and you know do QUEEN THINGS. But I'm not a fan of Manon x Dorian because it feels too forced and I think Dorian's character just lost its touch for me. I still do love Dorian, but like Chaol, I can’t believe the sense of entitlement of these Adarlanian men who like to fling insults at Aelin right where it hurts most when things don’t go their way or when they feel their male pride gets threatened by a female more powerful than them as if it wasn’t their fault that Aelin’s family got murdered and kingdom destroyed, and she was forced to live as Celaena by their own kingdom. 😤🙄 I swear that moment where Dorian had his head in his pants and was trying to force Aelin to let Manon walk freely in the ship had me seething. I mean Aelin is not a saint, but at least she doesn’t go below the belt and stoop so low to the people she considers her friends, unlike Dorian and Chaol.

I wasn't expecting to love Elide x Lorcan, but here we are! Also, Lysandra and Aedion are so cute together. Loved how the cadre became part of their group albeit unintentionally. <3

Omg this was way too long so brb I'll read The Assassin's Blade first before Tower of Dawn. My pace will be a lot slower now (as I'll take my time so the wait would be worth it lol) hahaha I practically devoured 2 books in just 5 days I think 😂

I haven't even finished this series, but the one thing I discovered is that mates! au is my weakness and mates to enemies to lovers au is the superior trope of all.

[percabethfiles]

Charlie

Uh... Hello? Anybody still here? I haven't been around in years and years. But I keep my fandoms stored in some corner of my brain waiting for something to tug them out. And of all things this time it was Taylor Swift re-releasing her old songs, because I used to imagine so many percabeth scenes listening to "Fearless". So have this little something that's been sitting unfinished in my archives for years now.

Remember that time Percy saw Sadie Kane and thought “Hey, this is what mine and Annabeth’s daughter would look like”? Yes.

(Also there are small nods to that fic I wrote about Logan, Hidden Heritage, but I've been meaning to re-write it someday because there were SO MANY PLOT HOLES omg)

When they find out it’s a girl it’s a bit too soon to know for sure, or so the doctor tells them. They’ll have to wait for the next appointment to know for certain. “So don’t go buying any tiny dresses yet,” he jokes and they laugh along, but they’ve been together for approximately eighteen years now, they can tell what the other’s thinking with a glance and the ecstatic grin that breaks through their lips lets him know they’re on the same page. Too late. They’re already thinking plush bow and arrows and a Merida costume for her first Halloween.

Percy tries to keep his cool. As the weeks progress, he tries not to get his hopes up, but in his heart he knows already. They hadn’t really had a preference before, they’d been too happy knowing their baby was fully human and had all its limbs (with the number of deities they’d pissed off, you never knew), but a little girl? It feels right after their two boys, it feels like their family will be complete.

(He thinks about a slight blonde girl with streaked hair and a British accent dropping from the sky on a magic camel, remembers thinking “if Annabeth and I had a daughter…” and his chest squeezes tight with happiness so raw he has a little trouble breathing)

When the doctor beams at them next appointment and says “Congratulations, Jackson family, it really is a girl,” he’s not surprised, but no less elated. He doesn’t hear the lame joke about Jackson Five, he’s too busy trying to be a manly man and not burst into tears because he’s going to have a daughter. When Annabeth’s in the other room paying for the appointment, and he’s waiting for the doctor to print the really impressive high tech 3D picture of the ultrasound, the man asks him “So did you go ahead and buy a tiny dress anyway?”

Percy blushes.

The man shakes his head in amusement. “Every time”.

His work colleagues, proud dads of little girls themselves, try to terrorize him with tales of tea parties and future boyfriends, and Percy thinks somewhere in the middle of all that teasing they mean well, but really, he’s mostly annoyed. It’s not like he’s new to parenthood, he’s got two sons already and they seem to be turning out okay, and before, when Logan and Nathan were just a nice dream for the future, there was Estelle, the little sister Percy had never expected, but loved to bits all the same.

And then Charlie is born.

She’s tiny, warm and pink, all curled up in her yellow cable-knit blanket, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out of a tiny, tiny beanie, features scrunched into the most adorable variation of a grumpy face. He’s not new to parenthood, he’s been here twice before, but the rush of affection and protectiveness and awe and raw love is just as genuine. He’s smiling like a dork, can’t seem to stop, walking from side to side, avidly searching her traits. She’s bigger than Nate was when he’d been born, but smaller than Logan. Her hair was light, like Nate’s, would it stay blonde or darken with time? Would her eyes be like his or Annabeth’s? And oh, she had her mother’s nose (they all did).

It never fails to amaze him how such a small, vulnerable being can shake up his whole world until it’s made a space for her. And he’s done this before, he’s no first time sailor this time, he’d thought he had it all under control. But she blinks and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes and a frowny face and—they’re green. Her eyes are the blue-green Logan’s are, Percy’s are.

(He’s got two sons who are his life, and he does love all his children equally, but holding his daughter for the first time, he thinks he understands his friends’ warnings. He doesn’t love her more, it’s just… different. It’s special.)

When he goes back to work, Nick takes one look at him and bursts into laughter. He claps him on the shoulder in commiseration.

“I told you.”

He’s completely wrapped around her finger already.

It’s not too different, he finds out. Especially having been pre-trained by Estelle. He’s got to brush up on his Disney princess knowledge, and hair braiding skills. He hasn’t gotten much better at color coordinating the polka dotted bows and tiny shoes, but Charlie is really forgiving. She is a very happy baby, much happier and easy going than any of the boys had been.

She’s also fucking crazy.

She is smaller and skinnier than her brothers, likes to wear frilly dresses and talk to plush animals and dance around the house in a pink tutu, but she’s wild. She never learned to crawl, just held on to the couch until she was wobbling on two feet, and it seemed like the very next day she was running across the house, the mall, the park, and if he turned his eyes away for one second, she was shooting off in the streets and nearly getting run over.

He’d found her dangling from the kitchen cabinets, trying to reach the cowering cat. She had a phase when she thought she could fly and she would climb furniture and stairs and the window sill and just… Launch herself into the air expecting her flying powers to manifest spontaneously. If they hadn’t been trying to raise them away from the whole mythological world, he would have sat her down and clarified that she had the wrong Olympian Grandparent in mind. She might have had more luck jumping into the ocean.

She had a way to jut out her lower lip, and turn those big green eyes on him that could render his every effort to be a responsible parental presence useless.

Besides, she was so funny. He could never muster enough anger to discipline her, because if he found her on the kitchen table covered in peanut butter, somehow sporting a very sticky Mohawk, and looking entirely unapologetic, well, he just couldn’t stop laughing.

One day he’s coming home from work and he hasn’t even pulled the key from the lock when Charlie calls out ‘you’re back daddy,’ in what sounds vaguely like a new jersey accent. He finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, drowning in one of Annabeth’s bathrobes, pink plastic barbie sunglasses on, holding a pooh bear sippy cup with one hand and a pinky stretched out.

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

“It’s wine Wednesday, daddy.”

“It’s what?”

“Wine Wednesday.”

He had half a mind to check if her sippy cup actually contained wine because they hid their alcohol way up in the cabinets she can’t reach but that girl could climb like a monkey. He knows he should follow that remark up with some kind of questioning of where she’d even heard of ‘wine Wednesdays’ and then explain that kids don’t drink wine or some other kind of responsible parent speech, but a sudden burst of incredulous laughter bubbles up in his throat and he takes refuge in the kitchen, lest he encourages her behavior.

He finds Annabeth there, hand over her mouth, clearly in stitches over their daughter’s performance. He wants to question if she gave her permission to wear her bathrobe but finding his wife nearly doubled over in silent laughter in the kitchen is too much and he finally lets out the guffaw he’d been trying to hold on to.

It’s not the first time Charlie leaves them breathless with laughter, and he’s almost scared of what she’s going to cook up in the future.

Charlie is a hellion.

There isn’t one person safe from her pranks, but she’s so adorable she hardly ever catches hell for it, and she’s learning to use it in her favor – thankfully, just in time for her parents to develop immunity to her puppy eyes. And she’s… difficult, yes, but not always, and not in a terrible way. For all her climbing the roof, organizing illegal cookie sales, getting in fights with her classmates, she’s not a bad kid. She’s got Percy’s penchant for befriending the kids no one wants to go near, and defending her ragtag team of losers. She’s loyal to a fault, and it gets her in trouble often.

She and Nate have epic jealousy fights over everything, including – but not limited to – Logan’s attention, the crayons, the biggest piece of cake and all the videogame characters in the world are not enough, they will always want whatever the other picked. It gives them many, many headaches. Logan, on the other hand, positively spoils her, and whenever Charlie gets in trouble they can be sure to find her hiding behind her big brother while he gives them this solemn look and says “It’s ok, mom and dad, Charlie promises she won’t do it again. We’ve talked.”

When the whole “Logan being attacked by a dracanae in school and thus finding out his Olympian heritage” debacle came to pass, and they started frequenting camp again, there was nowhere in the entire Camp Charlie would rather be than the stables. She’d spend hours there with the Aphrodite kids, brushing the pegasi and talking to them endlessly about all her classmates and her friends, and her dolls, and her new dress, and the new book grandma gave her. It was all really cute until Percy realized the pegasi were talking back, and she fully understood their replies.

And it’s funny, really, because Logan had taken after Percy, to a point where bathing him had been hard as a child because he tended to stay dry in the tub, and Nathan was Annabeth to a T, but Charlie was a perfect mix of them both.

He guesses it makes sense it would be so explosive.

When Charlie is twelve, she gets kicked out of school.

Percy is not overly worried about it himself – the number of schools he’d been kicked out of reached double digits, and this was only her first – but he is worried about how she will feel. Getting the boot from a place that’s housed you for years, where your friends are, where everyone already knows you and having to start over is never pleasant, no matter how used to it you were.

He’d expected the school to have gotten tired of all her pranks and misbehaving, which was fair, he guessed. But when Annabeth comes home from the meeting with the school director, she is seething, and not at their daughter. Charlie is angry too. In fact, it’s the first time he’s ever seen his daughter well and truly pissed off. The two of them are a sight for nightmares, both blondes standing side by side ranting with righteous fury, they look ready to start a revolution. What he gets from her angry snarls and Charlie’s rushed rambling is that Charlie had talked back to a teacher that was picking on the autistic kid and demeaning the thirteen year old who was repeating sixth grade.

She’d called him a brain-washing small minded overgrown bully who, he was quoting, didn’t get enough love from his parents.

And Percy is so proud his eyes even get a little misty.

Because he’s getting old and sentimental and raising kids is very hard. No one knows what they’re doing, not one person, not even the fancy psychologists with those books on raising perfect, well rounded, high-achieving members of society that Annabeth insisted on reading when she was pregnant with Logan. You do your best and you hope for the best, and you don’t know what you get until it’s basically too late to do anything about it. And even if he did have the best mom in the history of the entire world to draw example from, he was also half of an absent Olympian father whose heritage condemned him to dance in and out of battlefields half his life.

He’s always been terrified of being a crap father.

He looks at Charlie cussing out with every mild version of actual cuss words, stalking around the kitchen like a little lioness in a cage, furious at the unfairness of the whole situation, caring less about being expelled and more about who was going to defend her friends from that awful teacher when she’s gone.

His daughter is only twelve, but she’s already so brave, such a force of nature. She won’t stand for injustice, and she won’t take insult lying down. And she’s so kind. She’s growing up, and the person she is slowly turning out to be… is good.

And something in his heart shifts and settles down, smooths over old fears and anxious thoughts.

Percy doesn’t mean to brag, but he thinks he’s not doing half bad as a parent.

[chatonne-rousse]

Three Kids and a Hamster

This was my contribution to the @adrienettezine.  I joined the zine as a beta and ended up as a pinch hitter - this sweet little fluffy story was the result.  I hope you enjoy it!  I just love these two so much.

Read it on Ao3 here.

                                           **********************

The same full moon that lit their way over rooftops and across the Seine an hour before shines through the hatch above the bed, illuminating their entwined legs in its gentle glow and casting shadows on the room below. Even if she weren't tucked beneath his arm with her cheek against his chest, this would be a place of perfect peace, awash in a sense of rightness and comfort and home. It makes his chest constrict all of a sudden, his next inhale a sharp shudder that rouses her immediately from near-sleep.

"You okay, Chaton?" she murmurs, eyes wide and worried.

He reassures her with a soft, genuine smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking."

Bending forward to press a kiss to her forehead, he pulls her back down to his chest and starts up a purr for her. The breathy giggle he gets in return is always worth the twinge of embarrassment and the weird tickle in his throat.

"About what?"

The purr dies down, replaced with a contented hum. "How much I love you, of course, Princess. What else?"

As expected, she swats him playfully and laughs, but a moment later he feels her hand stretch across his torso as she cuddles closer into his side.

"I mean it," she whispers into his shirt. "Your breathing got all weird. What's wrong?"

"Bugaboo, you know you take my breath away!"

"Adrien."

Her voice is all no-nonsense Ladybug, but it just makes him grin wider.

"I'm actually not kitten, Marinette."

She groans and lifts her head again but when she meets his gaze after an exaggerated eye roll, her features soften in response to his. She begins to duck her head shyly before changing course and pressing her lips to his instead, soft and sweet and warm. His eyes slip shut and he melts beneath her, his ever-romantic heart singing her name over and over in a three-beat cadence.

"I love you, too," she whispers against his lips, finally breaking away after a long, slow kiss that leaves them both breathless.

After a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth and another on his jaw, she settles back into the crook of his neck, her breath warm and tickly and perfect against his skin.

Logically, he knows he needs to transform and head home, but the stark difference between his bedroom prison and Marinette's warmth is enough to keep him here just a little longer, stretching time and tempting fate.

Wouldn't it be wonderful, he thinks, as the sleepy calm drifts over them once more, to stay here forever, just like this?

He imagines waking up this way, morning breath and snoring kwamis and a warm tangle of limbs illuminated by a new day's dawnlight instead of the quiet moon. Perhaps there would be a purring cat asleep on the bed with them. And one day, maybe, he'd wake to find a toddler who had crawled up onto the bed and wriggled between them in the night to be close to maman and papa. A family. His heart squeezes with emotion again, but he keeps his breathing steady and Marinette doesn't seem to notice this time.

Dreaming of what the future might hold seems like an extravagant luxury in a world where a supervillain regularly terrorizes Paris and threatens to rend the very fabric of the universe and its delicate balance. Then again, isn't that all the more reason to dream?

Even with the freedom being Chat Noir grants him, the responsibility of avoiding that fate is a heavy weight across his shoulders, and a far more cumbersome yoke on his Lady's. Imagining a day when they can transform for fun instead of necessity, cook dinner together, fall asleep just like this, and not have to wonder if an akuma alert will rouse them before the sun—well, that just makes him fight each battle harder and despise Hawkmoth that much more. After all, the fate of humanity includes the fate of Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too.

Her fingers glide feather-light at his wrist, so he knows she's still awake, and before he can think twice about it, he's murmuring a question into the dark.

"Hey, Bug?" He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Do you ever think about...the future?"

Her hand stops its gentle, soothing motion against his arm, and he misses the feeling immediately.

"After we defeat Hawkmoth, or...?" she trails off.

"That could happen tomorrow, so let's start with tomorrow and go from there."

She resumes her caress, though this time her hand trails higher, up and under his t-shirt sleeve to the warm skin of his bicep. He smiles against her hair and hugs his heat-seeking little bug tighter.

"Well, tomorrow we have a calculus test, then you have a piano lesson after school. I really didn't plan anything beyond that, but if we're going to squeeze in an epic final battle with Hawkmoth, I suppose I should work on my history project at lunch to get ahead."

"Cheeky bug!" He tickles her in retaliation, and she giggles into his chest. "I was being serious!"

"I know, Minou." She laughs for another moment but says nothing more.

He waits through one deep breath, then two, before he whispers her name, questioning, against her hair.

She cranes her neck to look up at him, her gaze shy but warm. "It's just...can I be weird?"

Ah, that explains her reticence. The delighted half-smile that crosses his face is pure Chat Noir, but he can't help it. He loves this.

"Of course, My Lady. Always."

Five months and four days ago (yes, he's counting—it was the greatest day of his life, so far), after more than three years of superhero partnership and civilian friendship, an unplanned reveal, and the awkward nine day aftermath (yes, he counted—it was awful), they'd finally made it official. Adrien and Marinette had, at least. Ladynoir was still under wraps for now to avoid suspicion, but he looked forward to the day when a real kiss they could both remember would grace the front page of the Ladyblog.

At the beginning, between blissful kisses and timid touches, they'd taken the time to really get to know each other—with no secrets between them, a whole, beautiful picture emerged. It was amazing and thrilling and freeing. It was also a bit embarrassing.

She'd seen him in his Ladybug pajamas one evening when she'd stopped by his bedroom for an unplanned visit. Another afternoon, he'd opened a drawer in her room looking for a pen and discovered approximately two dozen photos of himself looking back at him. Plagg had unceremoniously dropped Adrien's Ladybug and Chat Noir action figures onto Marinette's lap while they watched a movie and proceeded to tell her that Adrien sometimes played with his dolls and made them kiss. He'd never been so mortified in his life (and he once fought an akuma wearing a banana costume, so that was saying something), especially when Marinette had laughed until she cried.

He'd have sentenced the tiny magical agent of chaos to eating Velveeta for a week if Marinette hadn't caught her breath, removed his hands from his beet-red face, and kissed him silly.

Afterward, lovestruck, he'd asked, "So I'm not...weird?"

Cheeks still stained with the sweetest blush, eyes soft and bright and full of love, she'd responded, "Of course you are, kitty. I already knew that," and kissed him again for good measure. "It's a good thing your Lady is just as weird."

And just like that, it was okay. His pajamas, her photo collection, his action figures, her calendar.

Can I be weird? preceded his admission of being unable to sleep if his Marinette lucky charm wasn't beneath his pillow. It was asked before he learned she slept with her handmade Chat Noir plushie beside her every night.

The question is rhetorical, of course. Permission to be weird is simply indemnity from embarrassment, a solemn vow of understanding between them. It's been the lead-in to many shared secrets and it still gives him a little thrill every time, just knowing that he's about to learn another closely-held tidbit about his Lady.

Tonight, he's especially curious—the question he asked was about the future, after all.

"I used to think about it a lot," she begins quietly. "And I mean, a lot. I'm a planner, you know."

Oh, he knows. Thank goodness one of them is.

"You've seen my sketchbook. You saw my wedding dress designs and all your possible matching tuxes. Alya's dress and Nino's suit..."

"And they were beautiful, Bug. I loved them all."

He can feel her smile against his t-shirt collar.

"Thank you, Chaton. But...it's not just that. I, um...I chose the flowers for my bouquet, I planned the menu for the reception dinner—"

"And your parents will make the croquembouche," he whispers, suddenly entranced.

She nods, but goes silent once more. He wants to hear about everything—the venue she imagined for the service and reception, what they'll wear at the civil ceremony prior, whether their guests will throw rice or rose petals or wheat as they exit as newlyweds. It's all so beautiful, his heart is positively singing; how could she ever think this is weird?

"I named our children."

The song in his heart comes to an abrupt stop when the rhythm falters before restarting at hummingbird speed.

Dazed, he breathes, "Our..."

"I know!" she groans. She covers her eyes with one hand and buries her face in his shirt. Her voice is muffled, but he's hanging on every word. "I told you it was weird! I named them! I thought about who would be youngest, oldest, middle--"

"Three?" He chokes on air. Is he even breathing?

"I designed the little outfit we'd bring each of them home from the hospital in. Their nursery had a theme! Our hamster had a name! I imagined our house, our garden, the layout of the kitchen, the color of our master bathroom!"

"What color?" he asks weakly.

A pause.

"Blue."

"I love blue."

"I know."

Silence descends again, as he attempts to regulate his breathing and bring his swirling, scattered thoughts under control. She hasn't moved a muscle, and neither has he. Honestly, he's thankful to be moored to his steadfast port in the storm right now, so he can't float away or slip under.

"Adrien?"

He hums questioningly in response.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is small and tinged with sadness, slicing directly through his current bubble of overwhelmed euphoria in an instant.

Sitting up so quickly that she's dislodged from his side with a startled squeak, he pulls both of her hands between his and brings her close enough to really see her face in the shadowy moonlight.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks, baffled. "That was..." he trails off, shaking his head as he searches for the correct word, wanting to convey his feelings properly. Incredible doesn't seem like enough. Perfect, perhaps? A dream I didn't know I had until you said it, and now I want that exact thing more than I've ever wanted anything in my life?

"Crazy, I know. Selfish."

"What? No!" he exclaims, and her wide eyes snap to meet his. "Marinette, it sounds amazing!"

"Amazing?"

He lets go of her hands to gather her in a hug instead, happy to feel her arms wrap tightly around him in turn.

"Amazing," he murmurs against her hair, hoping she can hear the sincerity in his voice. "Why do you think it's selfish?"

"Because...because I never thought about what you'd want, not really. Maybe you don't want kids—"

"I want kids," he interrupts.

"Or maybe you don't like hamsters."

"Mari, I love hamsters."

She smiles against his skin. "I'm glad. I thought you'd want a cat."

"Oh, I do," he says, nodding.

"I knew it!" she laughs. "But I didn't know any of that back then. I just dreamed my own wild dreams and brought a fantasy of future you along for the ride. It wasn't fair to you." She leans back, settling her wrists over his shoulders and searching his gaze with her own. "You deserve to have a say in your own life, Adrien. For once."

A wave of stunned gratitude wells up within him and he swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. No one, not even his beloved mother, has ever extended him the courtesy of autonomy, much less apologized for not considering it in the first place. The way Marinette loves him, with a selfless, gentle kindness, is like nothing he's ever known, and it overwhelms him sometimes.

Oh, he loves her so much.

"Marinette," he says, when he's able to. "Do you want to live on a desert island with me and eat only fruit for the rest of our lives?"

She blinks, confused.

"Because that was one of my dreams," he continues. "You—well, Ladybug—me, our hamster, and a ton of fruit. Silly, right?" He shrugs. "I was a lovesick teenager. I have a feeling you know something about that, don't you, Bugaboo?" His cheeky wink and Chat Noir smirk are rewarded with the blush and giggle he'd hoped for. "My point is, I wasn't thinking about what you wanted when I daydreamed about that, and I never worried about it. You have nothing to be sorry for, Bug."

Her smile is bright even in the shadowy loft. "Thanks, Minou. Those were fun dreams."

"Were? You don't want the hamster and the blue bathroom anymore? I was just getting excited about our house and three kids."

"What do you dream about?" She asks, clearly dodging the question with one of her own.

He doesn't even have to think on it to know the answer.

"A family. Hugs. Eating dinner at a little table together. Going to the beach and seeing you in your bikini."

She snorts. "Tomcat."

"I'm only human, Mari."

"Adrien, you can purr."

"Touché."

They can only laugh. Their lives really are ridiculous.

"Princess?" He asks after they've settled into silence again. "What are their names?"

"Who?"

"Our kids."

She takes a deep, deep breath, and it feels like an eternity before she speaks. "Emma, Louis, and Hugo."

"I love them already," he breathes, imagination awhirl with scenes of bedtime stories and blanket forts and the myriad other childhood joys he only knows about from movies and tv. It's so beautiful, they're so beautiful, that he has to clench his teeth for a moment to keep from crying. "Have you drawn them?"

She nods, brow starting to furrow in concern at what must be one hell of an expression on his face.

"And their clothes? The nursery? Our kitchen?"

"Yes, I told you I was—"

"You're amazing, Marinette. I can't wait to see them. I can't wait to meet them."

Before he knows it, she's pulled him into her embrace, whispering her love against his shoulder. If a few tears escape into her hair, she doesn't say a word. They stay like that for a few long, sweet moments, until a thought pops into his mind.

"Mari? Why didn't Plagg find those drawings when he found your sketchbook of wedding ideas?"

She pulls away from him and giggles. "Because that sketchbook is hidden under the mattress."

"Along with how many of my photos?"

The mock-glare she levels at him would be terrifying if she weren't so adorable. He leans in and watches her stern expression slacken just before their lips connect and his eyes close, and her soft sigh tells him he's forgiven once more for teasing her.

They fall back against the cat pillow and soft pink sheets once more, rearranging their bodies to that perfect fit that reminds him every time how phenomenally lucky he is to have found his soul's other half as a teenager via ancient magic and fated proximity. The kiss deepens, his hands clutch at her back, and he thrills at the feel of her fingers in his hair. This is everything, everything—love and light and power and freedom, the chance for a future, a home, a family.

It's just another late autumn Tuesday night in Paris. Marinette will convince him to stay for another hour, he'll set an alarm. They'll go to school again tomorrow and, though it's certainly possible they'll defeat Hawkmoth before the day is over, it's more likely they'll simply fight and cleanse another akuma before returning to the library to work on that history project.

But it's suddenly different. He's always fought for Paris, for the safety of his friends and family, for his beloved partner. Now? A new and different feeling of protectiveness rises in his chest, even as her tongue brushes the seam of his lips and his purr rumbles gently between their bodies.

Hawkmoth will rue the day he tried to take Emma, Louis, and Hugo away before Adrien could meet them. He makes the promise right here and now, with his Lady in his arms and their kwamis sleeping on the desk below: Every akuma from now until he can punch Hawkmoth in the face and rip the misused miraculous from him, Chat Noir will fight for Paris, the world, and that shining dream of the future. He's one half of an unstoppable team. Together, they can, and will, do anything.

He and Marinette have three kids and a hamster to look forward to, after all. And it's going to be amazing.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Epilogue

So, this is it. We officially reached the end. I must admit I am very sad. Writing this story has been such a great journey but Aelin and Rowan have their happy ending. This chapter is set 5 years after the events of the previous chapter. it's divided in two parts. The first one we have Aelin telling in first person what happened in five years. Part two has a snippet of our beloved Whitethorn-Galathynius family. we get to meet Freyja and Morrigan and a surprise too. I hope you love the girls.

I want to say a massive thank to every single person who read the story, reblogged it or left a comment. Thank you. I am so grateful for all the support you gave me.

I am coming back..  A Little Braver is going well and I hope to be brave enough to post chapter one soon.

And now i'll leave you to the story. Enjoy <3

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

5 years later

My name is Aelin and my story began five years ago. I was once heartbroken and one day I left my old life behind and took a flight to Scotland, and then a ferry and I ended up on this island called Lewis. I am a bookworm and one of the first thing I did once on the island was to go and hunt for a bookstore. And well, you know the story after that. It’s been five years since the day Rowan and I officially tied our lives together at Callanish. As promised we went back there after a year and a day and renewed our vows.

Married life had its ups and downs but Rowan and I fought through every single challenge that came our way. We made it work, we fought for each other as we promised and we love each other just as we did when we began. And some. Every year Rowan has been celebrating the anniversary of the day I arrived on the island and officially entered his life. Sometimes I think he prefers that day to our wedding anniversary. Anyway, as you remember we finished the story with the four of us, Rowan, me and our two girls Morrigan and Freyja. Those two cute bundles of flesh are now two very active five years old driving mum and dad crazy but also being the most precious thing in our life. They will start primary school next month and I am trying not to cry if I think how much they have grown. Physically they are their father’s clone. They both have deep pine green eyes and his same silver hair. Freyja likes it long and loves when either I or Rowan braid it. He has become quite a wizard at braiding our daughter’s hair. Morrigan, on the other hand, prefers it short. But the similarities end with that. Personality wise they cannot be any more different. Freyja is like me. Rowan calls her his wee Fireheart. She is fierce and stubborn. She has a very strong personality and for a five year old she has her ideas clear on what she wants. She is like quicksilver and always active. She is the first one to wake up and the last one to go to bed. She is curious and fearless and loves nature just as much as her father. She is out little hurricane. Morrigan, on the other hand, is the calm one and reserved and she reminds me so much of Rowan. She observes a lot and when you think she is not paying attention, she comes up with question that makes you realise she was listening after all. She has an inquisitive mind and her non stop questions can be exhausting after a long day. She is shy. Where her sister had been since tender age happy to be with anyone, Morrigan has always been very selective. Growing up she has her favourite selection of adults. She is very close to her father, probably because they are very similar, but Uncle Malcolm and Aedion come second. Aedion got her hooked on planes. Once we were at his and Lys’ house and Morrigan grabbed one of his models planes and started playing with it. Aedion had started talking about the plane and now when they are together she always ask him about planes. We think she’ll be a pilot. Both girls are obsessed with books just like her parents and Rowan has taken upon him the job of teaching them to read. Morrigan can read very simple words and write her own name. Freyja would too if she could sit down for more than five minutes. Good luck with the teachers. She is very bright, she just can’t stay still for very long. She was probably the one doing all the kicking while in the womb. The amazing thing is that they get along. It took us a while to teach them to sleep in their individual rooms. For a while in the morning we would find one in the other’s bed. Always curled up together as they used to do when they were little. Freyja at the park always play the protective one and looks after her sister and chases away the kids who try to take advantage of her sister’s calmer nature. If we were in a fantasy I would imagine Freyja being the woman learning to wield a sword and who would train with the guys and dreamed of becoming a knight. Morrigan, I imagine her as the one with her nose in books and who dreams of becoming a healer. I think Rowan is writing a story about them. Oh yes, I will tell you about his book in a moment. There is a further family member that I need to introduce: our son Dalamar. Yes, Rowan and I have scandalised parents at kindergarten with our weird names. Freyja did not cause much problems but a couple of mothers had a go at me for calling my daughter with such as negative name as Morrigan. I usually explain that I do not expect my daughter to become the goddess of war but that simply Rowan and I liked the name. And do not get me started with Dalamar. No-one apparently has read the Dragonlace chronicles so when we say Dalamar is a dark elf in the books, well, the glares we get are incredible. But again, Rowan and I wanted an original name. We started searching in books to find something we liked and then Rowan found his old copy of the Dragonlance chronicles and he suggested Dalamar. I joked that if we truly wanted to scandalise Stornoway, we should have called him Raistlin. So in the end we went for something less alien and settled on Dalamar. Anyway, Dalamar is two. He was planned though. Rowan and I had decided we wanted a big family so once the girls were around three we started to try and add another member. When we had the conversation we had talked about having four kids, but alas, Dalamar’s birth has been so full of complication that my chances of another pregnancy are now non existent. But Rowan and I are happy. We have our big family. So, Dalamar has blond hair, much fairer than mine and very light blue eyes. He is a gorgeous wee boy. In terms of personality he is halfway between his sisters. He can be adorable one moment and stubborn like a mule the next. But at least they get along and again, Freyja has taken him under her wing. She really is our knight in shining armour. Both girls are fluent Gaelic speakers. After they were born I asked Rowan if he wanted to teach Gaelic to the girls and he had been very happy about it. So we decided that he would speak only Gaelic to the girls and I was the boring parents with English, although sometimes I am brave and I practice with them, then I embarrass myself and revert to English. We have started the same process with Dalamar and he is like a sponge. Morrigan sometimes helps me with my exercises and Gaelic homework. I am taking classes as well when I can. It’s quite embarrassing when you are almost forty and your five years old daughter tells you “Don’t worry mum, you are doing great.” And then adds something in Gaelic and you need to wait for your husband for a translation. Kids, aside… our lives haven’t changed very much. Rowan still works at the bookstore and Malcolm’s sister is still his assistant. She had been wonderful and he could easily count on her when he needed to stay at home with me and the kids. The shop is becoming very popular, my Facebook page has now reached many followers and a year after our daughters were born he finally managed to set up a website for online ordering. My dearest husband also managed to write a book, find an editor and have it printed and distributed in some smaller bookstores. Of course I told him to have in his shop. We did a book signing hoopla and I don’t think I ever seen Rowan so embarrassed. Anyway, he wrote a fantasy and as promised I was in it and I was Queen as requested. He was my warrior. Loads of angst and epic battles but we end up together. I am very proud of him. Now he is working on one were our children are the main characters. I have only read the fist few chapters and I love it already. But I am his wife so I am biased. I still work at the hospital and still love my job. I started helping as well as paramedic and specifically in the air squad. The team that gets to be airlifted at the site of accidents and the whole thing required a special type of training and it had been amazing. On occasions, I get to work with Aedion. He flies, I save lives. I wish I could tell the London guys that they were wrong. Working in a small hospital is not throwing away my career. I feel more satisfied than I ever felt when I was down south. Malcolm is still my second and I still adore him. Three years ago he finally got married. After my wedding Aiden went for his last deployment and made it back alive and then retired from the navy. He and Malcolm started dating seriously. A year later they moved in together and a year after that Malcolm finally proposed. Aiden has found a civilian job and well, they got their happily ever after. Another couple who got their happily ever after is Lysandra and Aedion. He proposed about five months after mine and Rowan’s wedding and three months later they were married. They had gone for a very small and private ceremony. One year later they had their fist child a boy named Marcus and now Lysandra is pregnant with their second, a girl. She climbed up again the ladder at the hospital and now she is just one level below the head of the department. Then we have Elias. How can I forget him? He is still in Shetland and we keep in touch and we meet when he is back on the islands. His job is going wonderfully and recently got promoted. Two years ago he got married to Ciara and he is happy and a few months ago she gave birth to an adorable little girl named Martha. She is cute. I have seen her when they came down last month. We remained good friends and both had the happy ending we wanted. We still joke and we love to compliment each other on making marriage number two stick. His book addiction got worse and I think I created a monster. He also bought Rowan’s book and raved about it for months. Then we have Elide and Lorcan. We see each other quite regularly. Every year in July they come to Heb Celt and now they can stay at our place. We have been down to Glasgow a few times and Lorcan yearly provides Rowan with tickets for the Six Nations and we religiously go and see the matches. I am officially a Scotland’s fan and I even learnt Flower of Scotland. The boys are proud of me. Elide is still a teacher and Lorcan still the coach of the Warriors. Their family has gotten bigger as well and they have a boy and a girl and Elide is expecting a third one. Apparently they want a big family too. Oh and Lorcan can smile for more than a second. I must admit I have changed my mind about the man and once he gets comfortable with someone he is actually quite a decent human being. He as a dark sense of humour and us two are usually the ones scandalising the group with dark jokes. Aunt Maeve is still running her cafe and she had been a great help as well while the kids were growing up. She would come up with crazy excuses to offer to babysit them and gave us plenty of chances for me and Rowan to have some time alone. Especially after the two births. She also spoils the girls and love to bake for them. Freyja loves to bake with Maeve and, like me is obsessed with cakes. Also, baking is the only activity when our energetic daughter can stay still for more than ten minutes. Morrigan, on the other hand is fussy as her father and not a fan of sweet stuff. We really got one clone each. Dalamar is still too small but he eats anything. My mum has joined the group as well. She has bought a flat up here and sold the house in London. She decided that she wanted to be a part of her grandchildren lives so she moved up here and she is in good terms with Maeve and sometimes she helps her at the cafe. The two of them cooking are becoming very popular in town.

***

“Come on, let’s go and see dad in the shop.” Aelin took Dalamar’s hand and made sure the twins were walking in front of her. Morrigan started blabbing something in Gaelic but Aelin didn’t understand. “Beurla, mo chridhe,” said Aelin to her daughter. “Tha mi duilich, mum.” Morrigan gave her a toothy smile, showing off her missing tooth. They walked to the shop and once they got in the two girls ran to their father who crouched down and they crashed into him. “I bring chaos.” Joked Aelin while Dalamar was still holding her hand. Rowan had started hosting afternoon for kids in his shop when he would reads books or just have storytelling sessions. He had started during the school holidays to have a way to keep the younger children busy but then it became very popular and he kept going, so once a week the shop is invaded by parents and their kids. The twins loved to listen to their dad tell stories. Dalamar loved it as well but he was far too young to understand what was happening so most of the times he would end up playing with Lys and Aedion’s son Marcus. Aelin reached Rowan and gave him a kiss and the twins made disgusted noises and Aelin laughed “one day you will find a boy or a girl and you’ll want to kiss him or her as well and it won’t be as disgusting,” she said tickling Freyja who was the one who was the most disgusted. “I am going to be a knight. I don’t need a boy.” Added Freyja proudly. “I am going to be a doctor like mum.” Was Morrigan’s turn. “So, a knight and a doctor, I guess we got very lucky.” Rowan pulled Aelin in his arms “looks like the goddess of love wants to fight and is not interested in love and the goddess of war wants to heal people.” “Well, you can’t say that we don’t have an interesting family.” Joked Aelin. Then Rowan bend over and lifted Dalamar in his arms “and you?” He kissed his cheek “what do you want to do?” “Tuathanach.” Replied the boy hugging his father. Aelin laughed and brushed his blond hair “that is lovely, my love.” With time and once they were properly settled down they had decided to dedicate a part of the land they owned to have a small farm. They had a couple of cows, a few chickens and loads of sheep. Dalamar loved to run after the sheep and help his dad look after the animals. That’s why Aelin and Rowan were not surprised when he said he wanted to be a farmer. The twins went behind the counter and grabbed the colouring books that Rowan kept stashed for when he had them in the shop and the pencils and ran to the kids’ table at the bottom of the shop. Rowan placed Dalamar on the floor “Go and colour with your sisters.” “Tha.” And the boy joined the two girls. Aelin leaned exhausted against Rowan. “You look tired.” “They have far too much energy. We went to the park. Freyja ran and jumped the whole time. Morrigan wanted to pat the ducks and almost ended up in the pond and Dalamar chased every single dog or cat.” She explained, looking at their kids with affection “then we had ice cream, we went to say hi to Aunt Maeve and grandma Evalin and Freyja and Dalamar stuffed themselves with carrot cake. Morrigan just had a carrot. She is annoyingly healthy like you.” “My girl.” Said Rowan proudly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them madly, but I just wished they had just a smidge less energy.” Rowan kissed her forehead “I’ll entertain them tonight and make sure they go to bed early. Hopefully they will run out of energy soon.” “Morrigan and Dalamar perhaps. Not Freyja, that girl has limitless power.” “Just like her mother.” Rowan’s arms squeezed her tight “The girls are going to school next month so hopefully they will calm down a bit.” “I am terrified at the idea of Freyja sitting on a chair all day. I feel sorry for the poor teacher.” Rowan laughed “she might find it interesting and actually sit.” “Ro, she can’t even stay still when you read stories.” He scratched his head “I was thinking we can sign her up for some sport.” “You can take her swimming.” Suggested Aelin. Rowan had kept his job as swimming instructor with Dorian and they had made it work. When the kids were at home she would take them to the swimming complex and once Rowan was done they would all swim together. He had begun teaching the twins to float and some very basics techniques. Freyja had loved it, but she preferred jumping from the smallest platform. Morrigan on the other hand had been a good student and had followed her dad’s instructions and could do a nice basic breaststroke. Dalamar would soak with Aelin with his water wings. He loved being in the water. “She could become one of those athletes who jump from platforms into water. A professional diver. She is surely fearless for a five years old.” “I can see her as a rugby player.” And Aelin laughed. “We’ll let her decide.” “Of course,”Aelin kissed him “Look, some mum and kids are arriving.” Rowan was due to start his storytelling session very soon and mothers, fathers and kids had started to arrive in the shop. Five minutes later Rowan took his position at the bottom of the shop on his chair. All the kids sat on the floor on the colourful mats Rowan had bought. Morrigan and Dalamar would sit at his feet, but Rowan would alway keep Freyja in his arms so he could hold her still for a while. “Thank you everyone for coming this afternoon. Kids, are you all comfortable?” Aelin stood in a corner and stared at him as per her usual. Rowan was such a natural around kids. It had been so easy for him to settle into his role as a dad. He had been amazing with their kids and he’d do literally anything to make them happy. But at the same time he had managed to keep the wonderful balance to prevent them to become spoiled brats whose parents would give them anything. “Today’s story is about a princess. Her name is Aelin.” “Like mum.” shouted Freyja in her father’s arms. “Tha, mo chridhe.” And Rowan kissed her head and a smug smile appeared on the girl’s face. “She is fierce and brave and very, very beautiful. So beautiful that all the princes in the realm wanted to marry her.” Aelin laughed and blushed a bit. “Is there a dragon?” Asked Freyja who seemed had already passed her attention span limit. “Shhh, my love.” But he knew it was a desperate hope. “The princess had been put under a spell by her horrible stepmother who was very jealous of her. She could not enjoy true love with the man she loved until the dragon that held the necklace with the spell was killed. Aelin was in love with the captain of the guard, a man called Rowan. The wicked stepmother had found out and so punished her. She had planned to marry her off to a wealthy old man.” When Aelin noticed Freyja was getting fidgety, she took a chair and sat beside her husband and grabbed their daughter so that he could continue his tale. “Rowan offered to go on a quest and kill the dragon but Aelin refused to be left behind. She was not a damsel in distress. So during the night she gathered some of her stuff, donned her armour and together they set off on an adventure. During their trip he would train her with the sword so she could defend herself. It took them a few months but they did manage to reach the dragon’s lair.” “Dragon.” Freyja was ecstatic and Aelin held her tight. “But while they took the path through the magic forest to reach the dragon lair, Rowan and Aelin got separated. The forest was very dangerous but they were both very brave and fought all the perils and when Aelin finally reached the lair she saw that Rowan was already there but he was injured. She drew her sword and decided to face the dragon alone. In the forest she had discovered that she had fire magic and she wanted to punish the dragon. So she started fighting him, but the dragon was huge and she was getting tired. In that instant Rowan woke up again and walked to her. Together they fought the dragon and eventually killed it and destroyed the necklace, setting Aelin free. She finally kissed him and slowly they returned back home. Once back at the castle, they discovered the wicked mother was gone and Aelin and Rowan decided to get married. They invited all the villagers and they lived happily ever after.” Rowan had to simplify the story to make it acceptable to young kids but they seemed to have liked it. He told a few more stories and two hours later the shop was empty and he was alone again with his family. Dalamar had fallen asleep in Aelin’s arms. Morrigan had gone back to her colouring book and Freyja was pretending to be a knight, swinging around the toy sword Rowan had given her. “I am princess Aelin and I kill dragons.” She shouted while Rowan chased her around the shop. Rowan finally grabbed her and lifted her like a sack of potatoes “dad, the dragon,” she protested while trying to wriggle out of her father’s grip. “Freyja!” Aelin noticed Rowan’s command voice. The one that could actually slow down the little terror. The girl stopped moving and Rowan sat her down beside her sister and she grabbed a colouring book and joined Morrigan in silence. “You really have super powers.” Rowan leaned over to kiss his wife’s head “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go home.”

Half an hour later they were finally at home. Rowan carried a sleepy Morrigan and Aelin carried Dalamar who had been sleeping for an hour now. Freyja had followed in silence, with her sword tucked in the belt loop of her trousers. “I’ll make dinner, you change the kids.” Aelin nodded “Let’s go Freyja it’s jammies time.” The little girl gave her a huge smile and followed her mother with Morrigan at her side. Aelin placed Dalamar on the bed, and helped the two girls change into their night clothes. “Did you have fun at dad’s tonight?” “Yes.” They both squealed. Once they were ready, Aelin tied Freyja’s hair “now go back downstairs to dad but let him cook, okay?” The two girls nodded and left the room. Aelin grabbed her little boy and took him to his room, changed him into his pyjama and tucked him in bed “I love you,” she told him while kissing him on the cheek. Then grabbed the baby monitor and joined the rest of her family downstairs. The twins were on the carpet playing quietly with Morrigan’s planes. Aelin joined Rowan and hugged him from behind “Dalamar is in bed and the girls are playing.” She kissed his back “and your food smells amazing.” “Freyja finally calmed down.” “My mum says that she reminds her of me when I was little.” Aelin squeezed him. He switched off the hob and turned engulfing her in his arms “It does not surprise me.” And he kissed her deeply and Aelin replied in the same manner. He pushed her to the table and she grabbed his butt pulling him to her and she moaned against his mouth. He kissed her neck and Aelin’s hands found their way under his t-shirt. Then she pulled away “Ro, the kids are in the other room and awake.” Rowan leaned his forehead against hers cupping her face in his hands. The kiss he gave her was full of need and love “I know.” He sighed pulling away. Their intimate life had taken a bit of a hit and most nights they were too tired to even try and do something. The last time they had managed to get some action was when Aelin’s mother had kidnapped their kids for an entire weekend four months before. And the mornings were not good either because the twins had the habit of waking up and joining their parents in bed for some family cuddling. Aelin crashed her forehead on his chest “I miss our wall…” she laughed “but I know that I would fall asleep as soon as my back hits it.” Rowan kissed her again “I miss you too.” Then pulled away “Come one, let’s go and feed our hurricanes.” In that instant she heard Dalamar calling her through the baby monitor and five minutes later Aelin was downstairs with a weepy boy in her arms “Someone else is joining us for dinner.” The five of them had dinner and once they were done the kids moved to the sofa and Aelin gave them her old laptop so they could watch their hour of tv. She and Rowan had never bought a tv and the kids never asked for it but allowed them to watch an hour of cartoons on Netflix in the evening after dinner while they cleaned up. Most of times they got bored after half an hour and went back playing until bed time but when they were tired they did manage their hour. “They are watching Totoro again.” Said Aelin, joining Rowan in the kitchen with a pile of dishes then she grabbed a towel and started drying all the ones he had already washed. “They do love Totoro.” He added smiling. “Morrigan the other day said she wants to study Japanese so she could talk to Totoro and Freyja wants to go in the woods to look for him.” Rowan roared with laughter “I love the idea of studying Japanese, though.” “Our two wonderful weirdos.”Aelin stored away all the dishes. Once they were done they got back in the living room and silence reigned. The laptop was on the carpet and the three kids were are all hugged together on the sofa. Dalamar sleeping on Freyja’s chest like in the scene where Mei sleeps on Totoro’s belly, her arms protectively around her brother’s back. Morrigan was snuggled against her sister, her hand holding one of Freyja’s. Aelin gasped at the scene and Rowan pulled her to him and kissed her head “they are finally fell asleep.” He turned Aelin and held her from behind, his chin on her head and his arms tight around her. “This is it, Buzzard. This is my island dream.” Rowan kissed her temple. “This is my dream too.”

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp

[themightyaliendwarf]

TPN s02e08

Maaan, what an rollercoaster! We literally go from amazing to fine to incredible. Which kinda makes me angry because this is how this season SHOULD look like. Okay, fine, let’s skip Goldy Pond, but let’s make it equally amazing as this. Just in an anime original way. And this episode proves they COULD do it. It’s a pity that it took them over a half of the season to reach this point. But let’s start from the beginning.

1. So, Peter Ratri is voiced by Yoshimasa Hosoya. I was joking with my friend that it might be the reason why the quality of the animation isn’t always the best - because he took a half of the budget. Anyway, I think he is doing a good job with voicing this character right now, but I will wait with the final judgement for the Peter’s meltdown scene. 

2. Just a fun fact I read in the manga: apparently when Isabella tells Norman that he is going to a new home, Shirai used the kanji that can also mean ‘cage’. 

3. Another thing I loved: they showed how Norman found about Vincent. It’s shown in the extra pages for one of the volumes (I don’t remember in which one right now).

4. Again, I like that the first 7-8 minutes were fully focused on Lambda. I think that this is something that anime-only people really needed (without the context, it’s difficult understand how MUCH those guys hate the demons and why). And for manga readers it was cool to see it in colour. But on the other hand, I’m kinda disappointed that they just showed us the images of the experiments. I think adding movement and sound would make those scenes absolutely terrifying. But hey, at least they showed it!

5. So, we found out a little bit about the escape, buuuut it was nearly as much as I was hoping for. Based on the panels in the manga, we could have already guessed that they used some kind of explosives. I guess we still need to wait for another special chapter/light novel.

6. Annnd after the amazing lambda part we jump to the search... Now, do you know why this whole thing was more engaging in the manga?

Because we got her. I don’t think it will be controversial if I say that the search for Mujika was really boring. Just a bunch of pictures and building up suspense by showing us that CGI demon. Speaking of that demon!

7. You know what pains a lot in this episode? SO MANY reused animations. I mean, the test solving animation, the demon, the chase, later the demons degenerating and demons eating other demons... look, I know they want to save money, but there are some limits!

8. Apparently Ray, a guy who has been living in the wilderness for months, needs a watch to tell that sun is setting. Just a minor nitpick that I had to point out. 

9. Okay, I think we can official crown Norman as our new edge lord. I mean that monologue on the top of the rock... I know that words are from the manga, but when it’s shown like that, it looks more silly than serious. Also, the quote ‘I will gladly become a God or a devil’, doesn’t make THAT much sense here, because we didn’t get this scene:

To me it felt like unnecessary fan service towards manga readers, but I’m happy for you if you liked this scene. Norman is allowed to become our tiny edge lord.

10. You know what made me angry? Don and Ray shooting the demon, but Emma and Gilda not. Yes, Emma does it a second later, but it became a trend to give her badass scenes to boys. The next scene, however, made me furious.

11. Ray shoots the demon and then he and Emma share a sigh of relief. But then it turns out that the wild demon is still alive and it’s going to eat Emma. Wait a minute... I have seen it somewhere... OH, RIGHT!

Of course, there are situations where Emma is the one who is being saved. The problem is that in the anime she is always being saved by someone - never the other way around. I’m happy that Ray is given stuff to do, but why is it that he is given Emma’s stuff. Come on!

12. Also, how did they know that it was Norman who caused the explosion? How far did they actually went? Are you going to tell me that they were in practically the same location for months and nobody found them? Again, those are nitpicks, but they bother me a lot!

13. Also, apparently the drug is now spread through the air, and Norman’s whole gang is made out of edge lords who need to stand dramatically on the chimneys. I can imagine that during planning they had a conversation similar to: - Boss, do you know what ever genocide needs? - What? - Dramatic JoJo posing over the burning villages.  - Good, good... write that down!

14. Okay, enough ranting, let’s move to the incredible stuff. First of all, the music in those last scenes really reminded me of the Witcher Soundtrack and I LOVE the Witcher soundtrack. So epic! 

15. I actually stopped taking notes at this point, because I was so immersed in everything that was happening on the screen. The music, the tone, the colours, the expressions - THIS! This is what this anime should be from the very beginning. Making us care about the demons, and showing that they are also the victims of this system. The actual dread and thriller, the moral issues, engaging plot lines.

16. The scene with the old demon and Norman? Good anime original content? How is it possible? When the old demon asks Norman whether he is a human and he doesn’t answer - because at this point he himself isn’t sure. Yes, give me more of that!

17. Norman being terrified after seeing blood on his hands? That’s a good change from the manga Norman, because it makes narrative sense. Really, CloverWorks, how can you make such an amazing scene after those 6 mediocre and one good episode? 

Anyway, it’s difficult for me to add anything right now because I don’t feel like I have enough words to describe how much I loved that last scene. Does it mean I have forgiven this season its previous sins? No, but I’m a happier person right now, and I’m REALLY looking forward into the next episode. 

[drivingsideways]

EVERYTHING for This Suspect Edifice, the epic life of Goh Ye-jun ❤️❤️❤️

Hahaha, bestest, you were literally there for all of it 😘

☼: how i came up with the idea

I don't even know if it was *an * idea- I was just vibing, not really thinking when I started writing it! I just loved his character so much- I'm a softie for the second lead who doesn't get the girl, or the underdog who doesn't quite get what they want- and I think my idea wasn't anything more than: I must give Goh Ye-jun everything.

☄: what the writing process was like

Absolute bliss. I have never experienced anything like it before and I suspect I never will again. I think it was just the summery-sweet-utterly plotless-vibe of the show that infected me through the writing- though I think the fic has more direct angst than the show itself did. But it just- flowed from my fingertips onto the screen and you were so enthusiastic (YOU ARE MY FAVE and THE BEST) and that made it even more easy and delightful to write, because I'd get your live commentary on everything- just instant validation and encouragement was such a good feeling :)

✄: something i deleted before the final draft

I think this is one fic where I didn't do anything much more than a little tweaking- no large sections were re-written or deleted. For a completely unplanned fic (I didn't even have a chapter outline, I think!) it just wrote itself and fairly neatly, I think!

♡: my favorite part

Hmm, difficult to choose, but I liked the bit where Ye-jun has to make peace between his mom and Ye-chan, over Ye-chan's career choices after the two of them have a big fight, and doesn't quite manage it. Something about growing up as the elder sibling in a single parent household while also hiding this huge secret about yourself and loving your family but never quite being understood by them, or understanding them either- and knowing there's no easy or permanent resolution to any of it-

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up thirsty, his phone's dead and the old digital clock on the desk shows 03:05 in large neon blue.

He's halfway down the stairs, wondering if eomma made it home, when he notices the light on in the living room. Eomma and Ye-chan are curled up on the couch, Ye-chan's head tucked into eomma's shoulder. If they're talking, it's too soft for Ye-jun to hear.

Huh, he thinks, half-relieved, and half—something else. Something that feels like hurt or that feeling that never seems to disappear entirely, like he’s a child with his nose pressed up against the glass window of a shop selling candy he can't afford, always on the outside.

He turns and pads back up the stairs, brushing away the feeling. It’s a useless thing to dwell on.

In the morning, he'll borrow some flour and eggs from eomma's kitchen so that Hyun-soo can eat well.

☠: something i found challenging

Ha! Describing the boxing match at the Asiad- I fudged it, eventually, but for a while there I went down a rabbit hole on women's boxing stats and videos and coming up with zilch.

☾: how i thought people would respond to the fic

This fic was totally pressure free- because I knew there was like zero audience for this (other than you!). I did not expect even ten hits for it.

☽: how people *actually* responded

Ok, so more than ten people seem to have read it, which, whoooo! But it's still one of my least read fics. *shrug hands emoji *

∞: something i wish i’d done differently

This is a sort of ridiculous thing to say, considering you don't even see the main pairing kiss on page (why yes, I *am * that writer who wrote 44k and didn't even get the lead romance pair to kiss onscreen!)- anyways, despite that, I was very much toying with the idea of having Ye-jun and Yeong-hwa be in an explicitly asexual but romantic relationship- which they are, of course, for most part of the fic. But I think I sort of chickened out of it, in the end- and made it a little more conventional. I did- and do occasionally- still think of a sequel where I want to address this more directly- but it's too vague in my head at the moment to get anywhere real.

★: something i’m proud to have accomplished

I was really happy to drag a character that existed on the margins of the canon narrative to center stage, and more than that, I think this is genuinely one of the warmest, sweetest fics I've written, and I *hope* that reading it feels like being hugged through the screen and wrapped in a warm quilt....