#but now I just have this big sense of accomplishment and pride

[virgo-dream]

virgo is home ✨

I'm finally home again!! CCXP was very intense and I think I haven't been on my feet for so long since at least 2019. I had a lot of fun, but it was also very overwhelming at times (I was also there for work, so I still had to manage the anxiety of being on camera before I could finally let loose after the daily live streams were done).

I'm really glad I got to do it though, and I reeeeeally hope I'll be able to go next year. It was a very enriching experience from a professional standpoint and I also got to exercise something I thought I still hadn't learned, which is self preservation. Being able to listen to my body and not go way beyond its limits is something I'm really proud I was able to do. Today, I got home after a 6 hour bus trip and took the day off to rest, and I think tomorrow I'll be feeling good as new again! :)

This is still a preeeeetty busy week for me, with more work and a Harry Styles concert on wednesday, but I am planning to take some time for myself (because my social battery is beyond empty) and to write. I've got so many ideas and soooooooo much I want to put on paper. I've also gotten some reeeeally good advice on how to organise my work from @softest-punk, and hopefully Morpheus' Orchestra will finally be updated!!! You'll have them to thank for that if it does happen lol

Anyway, this is just a little update on my life and on how I'm feeling. Making this blog and writing fics has been a real highlight of my year, and after these past four days I'm really glad to be able to come back to this space with so many cool and kind people to share my newfound joy with.

Now, I'm gonna go get some more sleep. I think I've earned it. :)

[widevibratobitch]

.

[enwoso]

Emily fox teaching Lovie to read

BOOKWORM - alessia russo x child!reader

just a lil cute blurb as a treat after that wonderful start to arsenal’s uwcl campaign❤️🤍

grumpy masterlist

“so can you tell me what that word says?” emily asked as she had arranged the colourful letters into a words. she was sat with you helping to teach you to read.

alessia had tried so many ways to try and help you learn to read, she had used ways from google, tiktok, mum groups but non of it seemed to work. you would instead just get bored and rush off to do something else.

many of the other arsenal girls had also tried but you never seemed interested in doing it, instead finding something to avert your attention to.

but you’d been sat with emily now on the coach, a table in front of you for at least thirty minutes doing a letter game, where she would make a spell the letter for you but you had to read what it said. it so far seeming to work.

you sat with a concentrated look on your face as you tongue slightly poked out between your lips as you tried to work out the word emily had spelt for you.

“that’s a t- and a r” you said pointing at the colourful letters on the table as emily nodded on encouragingly with a smile on her face as you were close, “tr-tee no, tree!”

“yes! woo” emily cheered on as you sat with a proud smile on your face as emily moved the coloured letters once again, “should we try something a little trickier now?” emily turned to you as you paused for a second to think before nodding your head.

your mummy was watching on from the seats across the aisle, a small smile as she watched you thrive. you were learning and even though it had taken a few attempts with different people including herself she was glad you were finally getting it and having fun while doing it.

emily moved the letters to make a sentence, it going along the table, making sure you could make the words out. “right, you ready?” she asked as you hummed looking at the four words splayed across the table.

“um, t-h-e, the” you sounded the letters out as looked to the side slightly to see emily’s reaction knowing you were doing something right as she had an encouraging smile on her face. “the, d-o-g-, dog!”

“yes! your doing so well, keep sounded the letters out” emily encouraged as she pointed to the next letter of the new word.

“w-a-s.. um. was!” you got out after a few attempts of sounding the letters out as emily nodded pointing to the last letter of the last word.

“uh. u-p… s-e-t?” you sounded each letter out as you looked to emily a little confused as she gave you a few hints. “so try and say them together, up and set”

“upset?” you said a little hesitantly as emily encouraged you to carry on.

“get in tiny! now can you put all those words together to make the sentence” emily asked as you nodded, emily pointing back to the first word.

“the,, dog, was,, upset. the dog was upset!” emily cheered as you finished the sentence, a little face of surprise and shock came across you before a big smile overcame as emily high fived you.

an immense amount of pride filled you as you carried on talking and reading sentence out that emily placed on the table with the colourful letters.

you finishing up the last word of the sentence emily had splayed along the table, “your a superstar! that was excellent!” emily high fived you with two hands as you bounced up and down in your seat in excitement of your new skill.

“mummy!” you called out to your mum who was sat across from you and emily, busying herself with finishing some uni work in the spare time she had where her full attention didn’t need to be on you.

“yes baby?” alessia cooed as she looked up from her laptop with a small smile.

“i can read! emily teached me!” you said with such excitement as alessia corrected you on the word you butched slightly.

“that’s fantastic lovie, i’m so proud of you!” your mummy smiled proudly at you as your small heart felt all warm and fuzzy with a sense of accomplishment. “now you can start and read me a bedtime story” your mummy joked, it being a nightly routine that you wouldn’t fall asleep at home without a story but usually after the first few words you fell straight asleep.

you nodded, before making you way down the bus to tell everyone your new skill that you had mastered on the journey. the entire team being so excited for you.

“how on earth have you managed that foxy?” alessia asked, genuinely curious as the blonde had tried every way possible to teach you to read. emily just shrugging she hadn’t had a technique, nor had she ever taught a four year old to read before so she didn’t really know what she had done differently.

“you must of been a teacher in your past life!”

[readychilledwine]

A Night to Celebrate

Rhysand Week Day Two - Carynthian

Summary - After shoving his biggest accomplishment in the face of all who didn't believe in him, Rhysand is just happy to celebrate with you

Warnings- alcohol use, parallel between real world issues people who are multiracial face, implied bi-Rhys

A/n- Happy @officialrhysandweek day 2! I touched on something slightly that I, as a parent of a multiracial child, have noticed already. I imagine being carnythian meant more than just a title to Rhysand when he earned it. I imagine it was a fairly big, "F you," to the full blooded Illyrian males who doubted him due to his half Illyrian status.

Also, I had to redraft this twice. Tumblr evidently didn't want me to post it. Perhaps this is a sign 🫠🤣

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

Rita's was loud as Rhysand continued blowing his father's money. Shots here, shots there, another round here. He had even snuck Azriel and Cassian in so the males could experience Velaris for the first time.

You were keeping watch, ensuring your closest friend wasn't going to get caught by his father as he boasted his accomplishments to any female, and as he got more intoxicated male, who would listen. You rolled your eyes as the three illyrians took another shot before heading out to dance.

They deserved the happiness they had, the sense of pride and celebration rolling off of them in waves. They had accomplished a goal so few had, and you knew for Rhysand that this meant more than he would ever be able to fully tell his two brothers by choice.

Rhysand had always told you during lessons that he felt like he was stuck. Not Illyrian enough for most Illyrians. Not high fae enough for the prissy upper class. Just stuck. Carynthian was a status so rarely earned during the dreaded Blood Rite and such a high honor, for him as a half Illyrian male to have earned it, fairly and Azriel and Cassian? It was something no one could rip from him, a title no one could ever take away.

It was his crowning moment. His biggest accomplishment. You knew he'd be riding this high for hours to come just based on the way he kept coming over to you, hand resting on your hips as he grabbed his drink. "I wish you would dance with me," he shouted over the music.

"Can't watch for our fathers if I do!" But you wished you could. This was a big moment for him. For all three of them. It had been enough for you to sneak out the high window of your father's home to play look out, enough for you to have one drink with him and break rules of what was considered proper from High Born High Fae female.

He seemed upset by your response, "Are you not having fun? Y/n.." He yelled for Azriel and Cassian, grabbing the three of you and winnowing somewhere much chiller than you were used to.

“Where did you take me,” You pulled back enough to glare, but not enough to lose his body heat in the icy wind.

“Mother's cabin,” his words were slurred, tone nonchalant as Azriel tripped and hiccuped, opening the doorway. “We can party here. No worries about our dear old fathers.”

Unceremoniously, you found yourself tossed on the couch while the three of them continued drinking and yelling, dance moves that made you wonder if you needed to cut them off coming out. You now had your own wine, nursing it as you laughed with them.

They went down one by one, and true to legend, the biggest fell the hardest. Cassian had to be carried upstairs by his barely there brothers, laid in his bed as he continued slurring words of celebration in his sleep. Azriel went down an hour later, shadows having the decency to move him to his bed so he could rest comfortably.

It left you and Rhysand, the heir holding a hand you to and forcing you to come sit under the stars with him. “I did it,” he whispered.

“You did,” you responded. “Without using your magic. Without your wings. Without your father.”

“Fuck that guy,” a ghost of a smile came to his lips. “I can do anything.”

You immediately confirmed, “You can. Regardless of what anyone tells you. You are capable of all things you set your mind to. We all are. High fae, low fae, Illyrian, rich or poor. We are more than our status."

He laid back on the porch, eyes shut with full smile, “Careful, Darling, those words might go to my head." He took a deep breath, "None of these-” he paused as if looking for the right word. “These meat for brains assholes can take it from me. Or Azriel. Or Cassian.”

You pulled your knees to your chest and nodded. “They won't even be able to strip you of it when you become High Lord. High Lord and Carynthian. Two of the most powerful titles in the Night Court.”

“I can think of more powerful titles,” his hand ran ran up and down your spine. “And I'm feeling bold enough tonight to try to earn it too.”

You had gone still until him pulled you down to him by your hair, looking up at his slightly hazy eyes. “And what title is that?”

“Yours,” he said plainly. “I want to be yours.”

200 years later, he still was yours, sighing dramatically as he looked over papers. You knocked softly, carrying the son you two had welcomed just a few months ago, “Babe, you have less than an hour to get ready to go out with Azriel and Cassian.”

He glanced up at you, “What?”

“Don't tell me you forgot,” you bounced your child on your hip, reaching to take the report from him. “It's the anniversary of-”

“Oh! I have to go! Dad brain!” He ran out of the door smiling, leaving you and the baby stunned at the rate the new father left at.

He ran back in moments later, kissing you hard before finally picking up his son. “Daddy is going out tonight, okay buddy?” He carried him down the stairs, you following, watching as small hands touched Rhysand's face. “Let me tell you a story really quick, though. One about daddy, and Uncle Az, and Uncle Cass and this biiiiiiiiiig mountain where I earned my 3rd favorite title.”

Father. Mate. Carynthian. High Lord.

You knew the titles well. Knew the order of importance he gave them.

“Once upon a time, daddy was taken from his bed in the middle of the night..”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The Seamstress (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Prince Aemond is your favorite client.

Warnings: Seamstress! Reader x Aemond. Smut. Mature language. Age gap, though not specified, and everyone is of age.

A/N: I was thinking about how something always felt off when writing Aemond. So, experimenting a little here.

The nerves and excitement don’t go away, even if this has to be the tenth time you are asked to do it. You feel yourself alight with pride. This is your moment.

Since you were no more than a little girl, you had always wanted to become a seamstress. You dreamed of making beautiful dresses for the noble ladies to wear, handsome gambesons and shirts for the lords. Years have passed since then, and you have become a renowned dressmaker, having fabricated gowns for Houses such as the Lannisters and the Arryns alike, but being asked to dress the royal family still thrills you.

You feel as if you were a little girl, wandering the halls of the Red Keep. It's no matter if you have done this before, you still feel the same sense of accomplishment. Besides, getting to work with your favorite client is always a joy.

The Queen has confided in you that you are also his favorite. Prince Aemond refuses to wear anything you haven't personally sewn. Your job is harder that way. You can't distribute the more menial tasks to your sewing girls, having to sew every stitch yourself. Yet, at the same time, it fills you with accomplishment when you manage to meet his expectations.

“Chin up, my Prince.” You say, softly pushing his jaw upwards. You go on your tiptoes, placing the pin on the cloth near his throat. He would look stunning in a linen shirt, with such a beautiful neck and shoulders. But alas, the prince is not one for light colors.

“How long will this take?” One of his hands, big and broad, goes to your waist. To steady you, surely. Yet, you cannot help but get distracted by the touch. It has been so long since you have been touched in such a manner. “I have to go train before noon.”

“Prince Aemond.” You warn, softly fixing the fall of the cloth. “These things take time. You can't just wear anything to the coronation.”

“I am not the one getting crowned, am I?”

You fix a button. You do not like the way the shape the outfit is giving him.

Taking a step back, you examine the clothes with a critical eye.

The pants need to be taken in. You kneel, tightening them around his waist and thighs. When your hand reaches his inner thigh, you notice that he has a bulge in his trousers. Your eyebrows raise. Unsure if it is what you think it is, you smooth the fabric around his hips.

His hand goes to your cheek. You look up, searching his face. Prince Aemond’s eye is dark, almost all pupil. He looks like he could just eat you up. His thumb brushes over your lips. As if in a trance, you open up.

You would be ashamed of reacting this way to any other man. But not with him. Not when he is as equally desperate, hungry for you.

It’s not something that's encouraged, bedding nobles. You would rather not end up with a bastard on your belly, shamed and unable to work. Your entire thing, what sets you apart from other seamstresses, is that you are a respectable woman.

But even respectable women feel desire. Even respectable women want to be worshiped and adored.

“Come here.” Prince Aemond pulls you to your feet. Then, he kisses you, hungrily. You start to take out the pins off his clothes, throwing the shirt away. The cloth gives as if it was nothing, long gone are your patterns and pins.

He lowers your bodice and hikes up your skirt. You grin. This is not new, either. It still fills you with the same thrill as it did the first day. Prince Aemond had not taken your maidenhead, nor had you taken his. But it had been you who had taught him, sitting on top of his hips and rolling your hips until you milked him dry.

There is something about teaching others about pleasure. You understand now, why men savor maidens so much. You can teach them to love and please just how you like, aim their thrust just at the angle you need to reach your own peak.

Prince Aemond kisses you hungrily, licking into your mouth as if a man starved. That, too, you taught it to him. Back then, his kisses had been all teeth, all clumsy head movements. Designed to conquer through brute force rather than seduction.

He kisses down your throat, sucking a bruise right between your collarbones. You sigh, quietly. He nips at your skin, determined to force a sound out of you. You have found out he thrives on praise and recognition, starved as he is.

He pushes harder, kissing the spot he knows makes you melt. You reward him with a soft moan. You have never been one for loud demonstrations of passion, and it shows, but it only makes more valuable to him the little sounds you let out.

You feel yourself start to get more and more wet. Your cunt throbs between your legs, slick and ready for him.

“Put it in.” You plead. “My Prince, please.”

“You are such a demanding thing, for a commoner.” He grunts, biting down at your shoulder. There is no room for complaint because he is entering you in one smooth thrust. You let out a keening sound, half pleasure, half pain. You can feel him grin sharply against your skin, face still hidden on your shoulder.

He rocks more than he thrusts, as he holds you open with one of his hands. This way, your pearl is exposed and rubs against his pelvis each time he moves.

His face remains hidden, and you feel his hair tickling against your skin. You feel the urge to nip at him as he does you, but you don't dare. He is not yours, nor are you his. Not only is it not allowed, but it would anger him. Prince Aemond, no matter how much he enjoys your body, does not think himself your equal.

He is above you, or so he says. If he likes to live in delusion, you won't be the one who stops him. It's not you, at the end of the day, who leaves these chambers looking wrecked. It's not you who melts at praise, at being told he is good.

“Like that?” Prince Aemond asks, cockily, as he watches your mouth slacking with pleasure.

“Right there.” You tilt your hips upwards, chasing your own peak. He fucks into you, mindlessly. He has a one track mind when it comes to these kinds of things. Thrives on watching you fall apart, as if it makes him more, as if it fills his pride. It's a good thing, in a lover, but you shudder to think of what this man could do only to be able to feel proud of himself.

It takes only a few well-planted thrusts before you are shivering and shaking against him, mouth open into a silent scream. He groans, pleased, coming out of his hiding place to give you a chaste kiss.

You straighten yourself. You thumb a pink, puffy nipple between your fingers and lean in, to coo right on his ear.

“You did so well.” You kiss his earlobe, softly taking it into your mouth and tugging. “So good for me.”

He trembles against you, face going back to hide on your neck. You wish he allowed you to look at him in moments like this. Prince Aemond probably looks wrecked. You can see it in your mind's eye, how his eye fell closed, how he has to bite his lip so hard to not let out a sound.

The view you get makes up for it, though. His back is arched so hard it must hurt, to make up for the height difference between the two of you. His hips snap into you so hard, you think you might end up with bruises from his damn hipbones.

Your prince has a beautiful body, honed from years of training. He is also all sharp lines and angles, hipbones, jaw, cheek. It is why you enjoy dressing him so much. His pale skin and light hair would really shine in jewel tones, but he refuses to use anything but dark.

“You are so good. No one makes me feel like you do.” You whisper, softly scratching at his scalp. You keep your touch gentle and sweet, and that seems to be his undoing. He tenses up and gives a little grunt, and soon, you can feel the telltale wetness between your legs.

You congratulate yourself on a job well done. You kiss the top of his head and start fixing your dress. On the floor, there is a mess of pins and cloth. The patterns will not be able to be salvaged, and you have another appointment in less than an hour. You need to bathe.

With no other choice but to walk out, you kiss him one last time.

“Come see me later, for the clothes.”

And he does come. But you get distracted again. He ends up going to the coronation in one of his everyday outfits. The Queen pays you regardless. She knows how difficult her son can be.

[gleefullypolin]

Digging into Romancing Mister Bridgerton part 2 - Jealousy

Ok I'm back to talk about jealousy...not Pen being Jealous of Colin with women or Colin Jealous of Pen with suitors. I'm talking Colin and his jealousy of Whistledown.

As we head into Part 2, I believe this will be a theme we see post Colin's finding out about Pen's secret. Because Colin finding out that Pen is Lady Whistledown WILL be a blow to him, Colin will forgive her, because he loves Pen. That's not even in question and not even something I'm discussing today. That's the EASY part.

The difficult part is that Colin has found love, he's found Pen. But Colin and Pen had that lovely discussion in S2 about Pen finding her purpose and now Colin is faced with the fact that Pen found that. Her success as Whistledown is something he has to face. And he still has not found his, just as Pen was starting to show him he may have one with his own writing. So let's dig in to how this played out in Romancing Mister Bridgerton because it was a big theme and I think this is coming to our boy!

In the book, even after the wedding, Colin struggles to deal with the revelation that Pen was Whistledown. Her success somehow tears at him and he is unable to deal with how if affects his own abilities and chances at being a writer himself. In true style, he was unable to communicate this jealousy and Pen mistook this as shame, that Colin was ashamed of her for being Whistledown.

See excerpts from RMB below:

Except, perhaps, for Colin and Penelope, neither of whom were especially comfortable when talk turned to Lady Whistledown.

But Colin was still so upset and angry over her secret life that she’d grown uncomfortable herself. She’d tried to broach the subject with him a few times, but he’d become tight-lipped and told her (in a very un-Colin-like tone) that he didn’t want to talk about it.

She could only deduce that he was ashamed of her. Or if not of her, precisely, then of her work as Lady Whistledown. Which was like a blow to her heart, because her writing was the one segment in her life that she could point to with a great sense of pride and accomplishment. She had done something. She had, even if she could not put her own name on her work, become a wild success. How many of her contemporaries, male or female, could claim the same?

She might be ready to leave Lady Whistledown behind and live her new life as Mrs. Colin Bridgerton, wife and mother, but that in no way meant that she was ashamed of what she had done.

When finally confronted with this, Colin told her he was not ashamed of her, but was unable to tell her he was jealous. he was ashamed of himself for being jealous of her. He struggled with his jealous for a while in the book. For not being able to find his true purpose.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he said again, mostly because he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth—that he was jealous. Jealous of her achievements, jealous of her.

It was such a distasteful feeling, such an unpleasant emotion. It ate at him, creating a vague sense of shame every time someone mentioned Lady Whistledown, which, given the tenor of London’s current gossip, was about ten times each day. And he wasn’t quite certain what to do about it.

He was a man who had always felt supremely comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t know why he was so blessed—perhaps it was good parents, maybe simple luck. But now he felt awkward and uncomfortable and it was spilling into every corner of his life. He snapped at Penelope, he barely spoke at parties.

And it was all due to this detestable jealousy, and its attendant shame.

Or was it?

Would he be jealous of Penelope if he hadn’t already sensed a lack in his own life?

Of course because they still were not communicating, Pen continued to know something was troubling her husband. Colin continued to be protective of her and very loving, but any talk of Whistledown immediately seemed to turn the mood in their home. It began to make her become disappointed in her husband, but not because she was angry at him but because Pen was proud of herself. She was proud of everything she did as Whistledown and she wanted her husband to be proud of her.

He said he wasn’t ashamed of her, and maybe he even thought that was true, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe him. She’d seen his face when he swore that all he wanted was to protect her. But protectiveness was a fierce, burning feeling, and when Colin was talking about Lady Whistledown, his eyes were shuttered and flat.

She tried not to feel so disappointed. She tried to tell herself that she had no right to expect Colin to live up to her dreams, that her vision of him had been unfairly idealized, but…

But she still wanted him to be the man she’d dreamed of.

And she felt so guilty for every pang of disappointment. This was Colin! Colin, for heaven’s sake. Colin, who was as close to perfect as any human being could ever hope to be. She had no right to find fault with him, and yet…

And yet she did.

She wanted him to be proud of her. She wanted it more than anything in the world, more even than she’d wanted him all those years when she’d watched him from afar.

This continued until they finally spoke, until Pen finally confronted him with why he was so distant. With the fact that he had read everything she had ever written because it was out there, published for the world to see and his words remained hidden, words on a page that perhaps no one would ever see and even if they did, never want to read. And finally in unburdening to his wife, she reached out to him to help him, to tell him to publish and he allowed her help, and he asked her to edit and together it was the two of them, doing it together.

And the worst part was that he knew she didn’t understand. She thought he was ashamed of her. He’d told her that he wasn’t, but since he’d not been able to bring himself to tell her the truth—that he was jealous—he couldn’t imagine that she’d believed him.

Hell, he wouldn’t have believed him, either. He’d clearly looked like he was lying, because in a way, he was lying. Or at least withholding a truth that made him uncomfortable.

But the minute she’d reminded him that he’d read everything she’d written, something had turned ugly and black inside of him.

He’d read everything she’d written because she’d published everything she’d written. Whereas his scribblings sat dull and lifeless in his journals, tucked away where no one would see them.

Colin wanted, more than anything, to be his own man, to be known for his accomplishments, not for his name or position, or even his smile or charm.

“Why, then,” she asked him, her words slow and carefully measured, “do you grow so distant and cold every time I bring it up?”

When he spoke, his words were close to a mumble. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“I’m a good listener,” she said softly.

His hand, which had been cradling her face so lovingly, dropped to his lap. And he said the one thing she never would have expected.

“I’m jealous.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”

“—I need something I can point to,” he said, right on top of her soft sentence. “I need a purpose. Anthony has one, and Benedict has one, but I’m at odds and ends.”

But she knew that those weren’t the sorts of milestones he was talking about. She knew what he needed: a purpose, a calling.

Something to show the world that he was more than they thought he was.

“Publish your travel memoirs,” she said.

“I’m not—”

“Publish them,” she said again. “Take a chance and see if you soar.”

His eyes met hers for a moment, then they slid back down to his journal, still clutched in her hands. “They need editing,” he mumbled.

Penelope laughed, because she knew she had won. And he had won, too. He didn’t know it yet, but he had.

But it wasn't until the end, when Colin realized that Pen didn't want him to let the world know about Whistledown because she was willing to let her success, her name go away for the sake of his success with his journals, his dream to survive, that he finally understood his wife. That she was willing to do so much for him. Give up her success for his. And he knew that his purpose WAS her. His dream was possible BECAUSE of Penelope.

“Colin,” she whispered. “If you tell the world I’m Lady Whistledown, and they react the way we think they will, you’ll never see your journals published.”

His heart stood still.

Because that was when he finally understood her.

She had told him before that she loved him, and she had shown her love as well, in all the ways he’d taught her. But never before had it been so clear, so frank, so raw.

All this time she’d been begging him not to make the announcement—it had all been for him.

He swallowed against the lump that was forming in his throat, fought for words, fought even for breath.

She reached out and touched his hand, her eyes pleading, her cheeks still wet with tears. “I could never forgive myself,” she said. “I don’t want to destroy your dreams.”

“They were never my dreams until I met you,” he whispered.

With all the jealousy behind them, their love the most important aspect of their lives, Colin lets her know that he is very proud of his wife. and he let the world know that he was very proud of her as well. I don't think we will get this in the show this season, because I think they will hold on to the secret of Whistledown for a while longer but i just love the end of the book and Colin showing his wife that he was proud of her. Proud of Penelope and Whistledown. Because she is both.

“The truth is,” Colin said, tugging on her hand and pulling her close, “I’m rather proud of you.”

She felt herself smiling, and it was so strange, because just a few moments earlier, she couldn’t imagine ever smiling again.

He leaned down until his nose touched hers. “I want everyone to know how proud I am of you. By the time I’m through, there won’t be a single person in London who doesn’t recognize how clever you are.”

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. How I think RMB plays heavily into the show and how I see BookColin coming to live in ShowColin for the back half of 7&8.

[jerzwriter]

I got this ask a while back, and I thought this was the perfect week to get it done! For @siennatrinhappreciationweek Day 2 - Baking.

Book: Open Heart Characters: Sienna Trinh, Aurora Emery, Casey MacTavish Rating: General Words: 662 Summary: Being a medical resident is hard, but it helps to have a good friend and some good treats to get through.

Casey wiped her hand across her brow, unknowingly leaving a thin streak of batter behind. “Sienna, are you sure we need this much chocolate?” she asked, eyeing the mountain of chopped chocolate sitting atop the counter.

Sienna placed her hand across her heart, gasping in mock horror. “Bite your tongue! There is no such thing as too much chocolate! Wow, you think you know a person!”

“Hey, I appreciate chocolate,” Casey assured. “But that’s... a lot!”

“Why do you think my brownies are so good?” Sienna asked. She leaned closer to whisper. “This is my secret to making them super fudgy. You’re the only other person I’ve ever told, and this stays between us!”  

“I’ll take it to the grave,” Casey winked. “And I trust you. You are the expert, after all!” She grabbed a piece of chocolate from the pile and shoved it in her mouth, but Sienna slapped her hand away when she tried to get another.

“Hey! Is this why you’re advocating for less chocolate!”

“Giwty!” Casey mumbled with her mouth full.

Aurora stepped into the kitchen, shaking her head at the scene she took in. “Sienna! I told you letting Casey in the kitchen isn’t the best idea.”

“I can bake," Casey insisted. "It’s real food I have a problem with!”  

“Are you saying chocolate isn’t real food,” Aurora glared as she stole a piece.

“Hey!” Sienna scowled, but Aurora looked her friend in the eyes as she took yet another.

“This is great chocolate!”

“And we might make great brownies!” Sienna scolded. “If you two stop eating the best ingredient!”

She leaned over to check Casey’s progress. “Looking good. Now, slowly add the eggs one at a time.”

As Casey followed Sienna’s instructions, she couldn’t help but be envious of her friend’s skills in the kitchen. “How do you make everything look so effortless?” she asked. “I can barely boil water without setting off the fire alarm.”

“We know,” Aurora winked. But Sienna beamed with pride.

“It just takes practice and a lot of trial and error. I wasn’t always this good, and you’ll get there, too. Besides, the best part about baking is that even the mistakes usually taste pretty good.”

“I hope you’re right,” Casey said, folding the chocolate into the batter. “Because these are beginning to look amazing.”

Sienna nodded with approval. “You’re doing great. Now, let’s pour this into the baking pan because the oven is ready!”

“This is a nice change of pace from the hospital,” Casey sighed. “It feels good to actually relax for a little bit.”

Sienna glanced at her friend, her expression softening. “Good! We both need that! Baking can be like therapy – I consider it self-care.”

“And the rest of us consider eating your baked goods self-care,” Aurora beamed.

“See, so it works all around!” Casey smiled. “Thanks for doing this with me, Si. I know it’s a busy week for you; I appreciate you taking the time for me.”

Sienna waved a hand dismissively. “Anytime. Baking is always more fun with a friend.”

The kitchen began to fill with a rich, chocolatey aroma, and when the alarm went off, they could hardly wait to dig in.

“Not so fast!” Sienna ordered. “We have to let them cool first!”

Casey nudged Sienna’s shoulder. “This is why I need you.”

Shortly after, Sienna poured two big glasses of milk as Casey dug in, her eyes widening. “Sienna, these are delicious!”

“Told you. You did great, Casey!"

Casey smiled, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment. “Maybe with a few more lessons, I’ll be as good as you.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Sienna chuckled. “But I have no doubt; we’ll make a baker out of you yet.”

They spent the rest of their day off together, enjoying their brownies and each other’s company; the stress of their residencies just melted away, and Sienna and Casey knew two things: the brownies were delightfully sweet, but nothing was sweeter than the friendship they shared.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[meaeris]

beyond all expectations

pairing: sebastian sallow x f.mc

genres: fluff, (a little) angst

summary: in which the protagonist is practicing to become an animagus and things, contrary to her expectations, go exactly as planned. more or less.

warnings: takes place one year later. spoiler for sebastian's quest. mention of character's death. hurt/trauma. Mc has a random name because i don't like using y/n or 2nd pov.

A.N. hi! i don't usually write fanfictions since english is not my first language, but i had this cute scenario in mind and had to write it down, so forgive some mistakes and inaccuracies. this is a repost from ao3. thank you for reading and interactions are super appreciated!

The problem was that Allie, wonder-child and proud Slytherin, had underestimated her abilities.

She didn't think for a moment that she would be able to transform so soon and, above all, she didn't think that the transformation would be so well executed that she wouldn’t be able to return to her human form.

"Don't panic" she thought, panicking.

Certainly Hogwarts couldn’t be defined as a cheap structure in terms of grandeur, yet now everything around her appeared immensely bigger and infinitely more majestic. She turned around and watched her own tail wag furiously behind her. Cats do that when they're nervous, right? She didn't know. She wasn't a cat expert whatsoever, for the only ones she had to deal with were the ones that roamed the castle. And now, herself.

A wave of delusion swept over her. It couldn't have been worse. Of all the animals she could turn into, a cat? Such a common animal? Her Slytherin pride was more than slightly hurt. Peering through some reflective surfaces, she managed to take a glimpse of her appearances: short gray fur, slender paws and deep aquamarine eyes. She wasn't just some common breed, at least. What was it called? A russian blue? Perhaps. Although there weren't traces of blue whatsoever.

The girl-prodigy (that's how some people called her) tried and retried several times to return to her normal form. She failed. A Slytherin who couldn't revert back a spell? What would her housemates say? What would her professors say? And after everything she had accomplished the year before! Defeated goblins, dragons, dark wizards… yet now the obstacle was herself.

She sneaked out of the girls' bathroom where she had been practicing until a few minutes ago and attempted to interact with the other students. Maybe someone would recognize her?

Misplaced hopes. Everyone mistook her for an ordinary cat, one of the many that occupied the school. Only a tiny less friendly, as she hissed and quickly sprang away whenever someone tried to pet her.

"Merlin's beard, why is this castle so big?!" she thought more and more irritated. She had no idea what to do. The worst thing? She could involuntarily transform back any time and end up naked in the corridors. In front of everyone. No. She would rather remain a cat forever.

"Of course, the wand! I'm an idiot, I could have brought it with me. Maybe showing it to someone will make them realize it's me."

She went back, not without getting lost a couple of times. Her sense of direction, now that she was seeing everything from a different perspective, had definitely worsened. The bathrooms were empty, and the room in which she had changed was still locked from the inside. With difficulty, she slipped again under the wooden doors and found her wand submerged by the clothes. She took the wand with her mouth, but she couldn’t manage to make it pass through the big pile of clothing. She wasn’t used to her feline body yet and everything felt like learning to walk for the first time. Her mouth felt stuck and the wand abnormally heavy. From bad to worse, no one would have noticed her clothes because from the outside it would have looked like an occupied bathroom.

She got an idea. She headed to Professor Onai's divination classroom, hoping to run into Natty. As the only Animagus she knew, the Gryffindor girl was aware of her attempts to become one. But so far every attempt had been unsuccessfull. Until that day.

She arrived at the entrance of the classroom, but realized she had forgotten an important detail: the ladder in front of her. She would have never been able to climb it, not in this form. She started meowing wildly, hoping someone would hear. It worked. Professor Onai, perhaps annoyed by that cry (which in her hindsight sounded more like a cat about to vomit), looked out from the upper entrance with a soft smile.

- You can't stay here, little one. Class is about to start. Shoo!

And that was that. The teacher disappeared and the girl (cat) stood there, looking up, as if expecting divine help. She cursed (meowing).

The lesson would last a long time, she didn't have time to wait. She had to do something.

If Natty wasn't available, there were only two options left.

She wasn't too proud of it, but in two years at Hogwarts she hadn't managed to make that many friends. Despite everything she'd done to save the school? Well... yes. But perhaps it was her fault, as she’d never been the reincarnation of friendship and affection, as much as she tried. Only Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow could define themselves as “companions”, at the moment. A direct consequence of sharing a deadly adventure that ends in tragedy. Natty and Poppy? Good company, surely, but they didn't have many occasions to meet, being from different houses and all.

It had now been a year since Sebastian's uncle died, and he still hadn't been able to forgive himself. He smiled and joked around much less than before. Everyone noticed that. Ominis, for his part, took a long time to accept things as they were, but when he realized that Sebastian needed friends, now more than ever, he decided that regret was better than anger. The three had become even more close, and they seldom left each other’s side. Although the topic was left untouched and a tense atmosphere was palpable everytime someone received a letter from their relatives.

She immediately thought of Ominis. He was the more conscientious of the two, the one with common sense, some would say, and he would have certainly uncovered her transformation if it wasn’t for a small... technical problem. He would simply hear her meowing madly and he would, rightfully so, ignore her, as he did with most of the cats. Although Sebastian admitted he caught the Gaunt boy secretly feeding them a couple of times.

And Sebastian? Well, let's just say she had been trying to avoid him lately. Not out of malice, but due to the effect that the boy's presence was having on her stomach. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but at the same time... it scared her. She was scared that this feeling had a name. After all, who would ever consider someone like her that way? Sebastian was smart, charismatic and charming, traits that certainly didn't went unnoticed by fellow Slytherin (or not) gals. At the same time, he exuded this unapproachable aura that seemed to scare his suitors away. Although some would say it was due to his close friendship with Ominis, despite the Gaunt boy being one of the kindest people she ever met... despite his, well, mood swings. He certainly didn't deserve such a treatment just because of his family reputation.

At the moment she had no choice. Burying useless emotions inside, she knew where Sebastian was, for they roamed together so often now that she had learned their schedules. She made her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower and luckily, she spotted Sebastian walking out of the classroom. She waited until he was isolated from the other students and tried to get his attention. She waddled towards him and began meowing at his legs.

"Sebastian! It's me!"

- Hello there, small one. Are you looking for attention? - said the boy, kneeling at the height of the feline. His scottish accent sounded more pronounced with her feline ears.

"NO! I mean, yes, but not in that way!"

- How precocious. Are you hungry?

"No! I mean, I kinda am now that I think about it... but that's not important now!"

She tried everything: she rolled, jumped, scratched his shoes (which caused a gasp of disappointment) and even tried to stand on two legs. All of which only contributed to the "hungry cat" image that Sebastian already had. Other than making her own head spin.

- I'm sorry, I don't have any food for you - Sebastian shook his head in amusement and started to walk away, but Allie, desperate, followed him. A few minutes later Ominis showed up, wand in hand.

- What’s going on? – he asked, probably having heard the miserable cry from afar.

- I don’t know, this cat seems to be mad at me. It's been following me since I left the classroom.

"Then ask yourself some questions!"

Ominis raised an eyebrow.

- Maybe it's hungry. Or in heat.

"OMINIS!"

The two laughed and simply left her there.

“Come back, you buffoons! Don't leave me alone!”

- Shall we go to the Undercroft? Allie should join us soon.

Of course! Only the three of them knew about that place. If she showed that she knew, somehow, maybe they would finally put two and two together. Besides, if she was late, they would get suspicious. She was never late for anything. Of course, except that time she managed to be late for her sorting ceremony, but that was a special case out of her control.

She ran away, under Sebastian's perplexed gaze, and preceded them towards the entrance to the Undercroft, a gothic clock meticulously decorated by blue and gold hues, an elegant design that recalled the starry sky.

The only positive thing about the situation was that she got there before them, thanks to her four legs.

When Sebastian noticed her, he didn't hide a surprised grin. It didn't happen often, but the freckles on the boy's face seemed to stand out even more. She liked that expression a lot and, for a second, thought it was kinda cute.

- What the...

Ominis lowered his wand.

- What are you doing here? - Sebastian remarked more and more confused.

- Did it follow us?

- I'm positive it got here before us.

-Well, it's a cat… it wouldn't surprise me if it knew this place better than we do.

"Ominis, you and your logic, shut up for once!"

Sebastian abandoned himself to a slight smirk.

- Well, I don't think a cat might blurt out anything about this place. If it wants to come, let it come.

After her meow of approval, Sebastian walked over and bent down to pick her up. Normally she would have wriggled herself free if it was anyone else. But Sebastian wasn't anyone else. She relaxed and the floor moved far from of her view, making her feel slightly dizzy. She may have been a cat, but she’d been one for less than an hour.

Sebastian snuggled her into his arms and her heart went crazy, leaping into her throat.

- It's purring - Ominis noted, hinting a smile.

- And here I thought you hated me - Sebastian joked with his typical flirty tone.

“I want to dig a hole and bury myself in.”

When this was over, she was going to obliviate anyone that knew, she thought. They crossed the rusty gate and, once inside, Sebastian left her on the ground. The poor teen (cat), still panicking and probably thinking about a spell for grave-digging, didn't move for a couple of minutes.

- It could keep us company, as long as we are careful not to cast spells on him by mistake - Sebastian suggested, taking off his robe and placing it on the ground in a corner. He took out his wand and twirled it with his wrist, as if practicing movements.

- Are you sure it’s a him?

- I don’t know.

- I've heard that females have a smaller head compared to males.

Sebastian looked closely at her, who was now sitting next to them. If any other cat saw her right now, they would have probably stayed kilometers away from her.

- I frankly can't tell... if nothing else, I almost have the impression that it can understand what we're saying.

"I do in fact, and yet you're just spouting nonsense!"

She meowed in disapproval and two heads whipped towards her.

- See? - said the brunette.

- It is kinda bizarre - Ominis confirmed, perplexed.

- Maybe it belongs to someone and it got lost. We should take it to the professors later.

"You two are definitely not Ravenclaw."

The two spoke no more. Sebastian practiced with the training dummies while Ominis read a book in braille.

She had run out of ideas. She had tried everything, and the two seemed to ask the right questions, but not enough. So she just lay there, taking everything in for once, admiring her friends. Maybe it was the new point of view, but Sebastian definitely got taller, compared to last year. Taller and sturdier, although his complexion remained the perfect mix of soft and manly features. Ominis didn't change much, but bis cheekbones were more prominent and slightly higher, framing a tad more mature face. On the other hand, she remained exactly as she's always been, if not with increased dark circles and puffiness under her eyes.

An hour later Sebastian realized something was wrong.

- She's late - he observed, leaning against a big box and taking a breath. - How many times has it happened so far?

- In two years? Never, - Ominis confirmed, - Except that time she was held by Professor Garlick for being bitten on the ear by a chomping cabbage.

- That was actually rather funny. It was the first time I saw Allie spill some tears.

At the mention of her name (and trying really hard to ignore what he’d just said), she got up and leapt at Sebastian's legs, meowing so wildly that from afar it would have sounded like someone was torturing a stray cat.

This attracted Ominis' attention, who took his hands away from the book and placed it at his feet. He was getting suspicious.

Sebastian knelt down and inquisitively looked into her light eyes. She reciprocated, but that strange feeling in her stomach didn't take long to manifest.

- Here’s the thing… - he began, tilting his head towards Ominis with his eyes half closed. - Didn't Allie say she was training to become an Animagus?

Ominis knew immediately what he was implying. - For some months, yes.

- Did she ever succeed?

- As far as I know, never.

She meowed again and spun around.

Sebastian's eyes seemed to light up for a moment.

- Could it be... is that you, Allie?

"At last! Honour your name, Mr Sallow!"

She meowed and jumped, twice.

Sebastian took his wand, pointed it at the animal and spelt "Revelio!".

Nothing happened.

Sebastian sighed. - Maybe I'm reading too much into it...

At this, before Ominis could intervene, she lost her patience and grabbed his trousers with her pointed teeth, biting his skin in the process.

- Ouch! Okay, wait, let me try again! What was the spell... I read it once in a book of transfiguration…

He thought about it for a moment, until he snapped his fingers in ecstasy. He cast a spell she had never heard before and a blue light enveloped her body. For a moment she felt nothing. Then she sensed that her body began to change. Without thinking twice, she ran over to the robe Sebastian had set down earlier and mentally thanked him for doing so.

The transformation was undone and Allie found herself with Sebastian's robe wrapped around her body.

- Finally! Everything is at its right height. That was horrible! - she cried, stretching and shrinking in order to feel her bones again.

Perhaps from the effect of the spell, or perhaps from the sudden cold of the dungeons, she sneezed.

- Merlin! - Sebastian exclaimed, and turned away uneasy with eyes wide open.

- Allie? It's you? - Ominis asked, turning towards her, and for once she was thankful that he couldn't see.

Sebastian was looking at the wall. - What the bloody hell happened?

- I wish I knew! I was practicing the whole Animagus thing in the bathrooms, when suddenly it worked, and I...

- You were practicing? - Sebastian repeated.

- Yes.

- In the bathrooms? - he began to turn around to show his disappointment, but soon realized the embarrassing situation she was in and changed his mind.

-Yes. I mean, no... wait, that doesn't matter! Contrary to my predictions, it worked, too well in fact, and I couldn't turn back. Took you long enough to notice!

- How were we supposed to know?! You could have asked the professors!

- Ask, how, exactly? All I could do was meow. And besides, admit to a professor that I failed such a simple thing after all I've been through? No way. It would have been humiliating!

Sebastian didn't say anything more, as if he got the point.

- Well, for instance... you should put some clothes on.

She blushed furiously. - I would do it myself, but my wand was left in the bathroom along with everything else.

- It's fine - interrupted Ominis. - I'll go get them.

Probably understanding the situation better than Sebastian, Ominis offered himself to go retrieve everything. How, she didn't want to ask, but she trusted Ominis more than anyone.

- Thank you...

Ominis went through the secret passage. Two of them were left.

She sighed, both tired and awkward about the whole situation. - I'm sorry for all this mess. I really didn't think it would work… it was honestly just for fun.

Sebastian sighed and seemed to realize the irony of the situation. He giggled. - It's all right. But I think you should stop underestimating yourself so much.

She slumped her shoulders. Maybe it was the tense situation, or maybe it was the fact that she felt naked for the first time in front of someone (metaphorically and physically). She felt like confiding in Sebastian. - You'd think that after all that happened last year I'd be more confident, but it's not easy.

Sebastian crouched, leaning against a stone wall, a leg bent over his chest, the other stretched on the cold floor. He turned to look into her eyes, feeling the discussion was getting serious.

- You guys had four years to practice magic, but I had just one year to catch up with you lots. And yet everyone has expectations from me. I have to prove myself, and I have to do it quickly. Otherwise-

"I may as well turn back to my pitiful muggle life" she thought, but didn't say it out loud.

- I think you proved yourself enough - Sebastian admitted, not without a hint of irritation. - The goblins, the whole business with Anne and... my uncle. You've endured more than any Hogwarts student ever had. You should be proud of yourself.

- Only because I was not alone.

She was staring at him and he understood. He suddenly found his shoes more interesting than everything else in the room.

There had never been a real discussion after the events of the previous year. Perhaps out of fear, or shame, or both, but none of the three ever dared to press the subject. Therefore what she said next was like opening a forbidden box.

- I'm so sorry about your uncle.

He tightened his fists. - Yes, well... I've been living with regret all this time, and it's what I deserve. I haven’t heard from Anne since.

She looked at the ceiling and gripped the dark robe closer. - I won't tell you that with time she will change her mind and forgive you, because I don't know. But I think that it's never too late to redeem yourself.

- But how? - Sebastian asked, hiding a stutter.

- I don't know... Only time will tell.

Sebastian raised his head. He had those afflicted eyes that Allie couldn't stand to see. If she had some way to turn back time, she would do anything to stop Sebastian from casting that damned spell. If there was a dark magic spell that could help rewrite the past, she would cast it with no hesitation.

"What a hypocrite I am."

She suddenly had this urge to get up and hug him, but she obviously couldn't. For multiple reasons.

Sensing her feelings, he simply said, - Thank you, - and that was enough. The two smiled awkwardly at each other. After a while, he spoke again. - I have a question, if you don't mind. Have you been avoiding me lately?

She swallowed. - What makes you think that?

- I don't know... just an impression.

- It is. I would never avoid you.

She didn't mean anything by it, especially because it was a lie, but for some reason such a simple sentence felt like it had a double meaning. Sebastian seemed to grasp it too, and he scratched the back of his neck.

Not much time later, Ominis came back with her clothing and wand. She changed herself with magic as quickly as she could.

- How did you get these in the girl's bathroom? - Sebastian asked warily.

- Let's not get into details.

***

After thanking Ominis multiple times, she left the Undercroft for Potion class, while the other two gathered their things and slowly made their way out.

- What did the two of you do while I was gone?

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. - We talked?

- About what?

- Just small talk.

- Really.

Silence.

- You held her in your arms. And she purred.

Sebastian cheeks flushed and he was glad that Ominis couldn't see.

- Don't you start again, Ominis.

[tonyspank]

EPILOGUE | GET ME

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

Warnings: fluffy

Words: 2.0k

A/N: I was like awww writing this chapter

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

"There have been speculations that Y/N didn't deserve her spot in the NBA...but now with eight seconds left on the clock of the game, she led her team to a championship in her first season ever. She silenced all the critics and proved that she belonged in the league.

—Her leadership and determination were undeniable and she earned her spot as one of the best players in the game, so young and so early on. She is now one of the most inspiring figures in the sport and a role model for many young players, dreaming of making it to the big leagues. She has set a high standard for future generations, showing that dedication and hard work can make even the wildest dreams come true."

You bend down, your emotions overwhelm you. In three seconds your team has officially won the 2022-2023 NBA Championship. You raise your arms to the sky as tears of joy roll down your cheeks.

You look around to find your teammates, and they are all in the same state of pure elation. They rush over to you, hugging and celebrating. You take a moment to soak it all in, and you can't help but smile. The dream has become a reality.

You look up at the crowd, thousands of cheering fans, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. You can't help but think about how far you have come, and the journey you have taken to get here. You realize that all of your hard work has paid off.

The team manager places a hat on your head, smiling as she congratulates you. You take a deep breath giving LaMelo Ball a tight hug. You two being one of the best duos to take the court in a while. You close your eyes, feeling the moment, knowing that no matter what happens, you will always have each other's back.

You break away from the hug and look around the room, your teammates cheering and celebrating your success. You laugh, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

"Y/N!" Your head turns at the sound of your name, and you're met with a few cameras pointed your way. You smile and share a look with your manager before walking over to the cameras. Lisa, an interviewer, shakes your hand and introduces herself.

You take a few moments to compose yourself, and then you start to answer her questions. "Y/N, we feel the emotion. Where is it all coming from? How do you feel after leading your team to the championship?"

You adjust your hat, letting out a breath. "I'm honored and proud. It's been a long journey, full of hard work and dedication. I'm thankful to everyone who has been a part of it. Never would I have thought I'd be the first woman to ever play in the NBA, nor even be in the finals in my first season.

—It's just so unreal and I just can't be more grateful for the opportunity I've been given. But at the same time, I know I'm here for a bigger purpose. Representing women everywhere, showing them that anything is possible if you put your mind to it. I'm ready to make history and show the world that no dream is too big."

Lisa nods at your words, moving the microphone back to her to ask another question. "Did you feel a lot of pressure on yourself being the first woman in the NBA? If so, did you use that to your advantage and how did you?"

You glance around before answering. "I didn't feel pressure because I knew I was capable. In fact, I embraced it and used it to fuel my drive to succeed. I never let the fact that I was a woman stop me from aiming for the highest achievements."

A crowd begins forming around you which includes your teammates, coaches, managers, and family members. You spot Eli in the crowd and he brings you into a tight hug, and whispers in your ear, "You did it! Congratulations!" He holds you tightly for a few seconds, and then pulls away, patting your chest. You nod at his words, smiling at your best friend.

"You almost got us in the conference finals." Eli gave you a mischievous smile and winked. "Next year, we'll get our get back on you and LaMelo." He laughs. You grin and playfully punch his shoulder. "You think you can handle us?" you asked. "Bring it on," he replied confidently.

Your eyes then meet the ones you've been looking for this entire night. Jenna blows you a kiss as she walks toward you. You dramatically drop your jaw, holding a hand over your heart.

Eli laughs at your reaction. You laugh, eyes still fixed on Jenna. She slowly moves closer, her arms outstretched. You lift her up, spinning her around in a circle. You both laugh, and Eli makes his way over to your parents. Jenna presses her lips to yours, and you swear you can feel sparks between you.

You reluctantly pull away, a giddy smile on your face. You look around, and you can tell your parents and Eli are all sharing the same joy. You have found something special in Jenna, and it feels like it is something that will never fade away. Your parents begin walking to you, holding someone out for you to take.

You smile at your son, who looks as lost as ever and taking him from your parent's grasp. He looks up at you, his eyes brown doe eyes wide. You rock him a bit, smiling at him before you glance at your parents. They smile back at you, proud of who you've become and how much you've accomplished.

Even though you having a child was a complete shocker and scared the living hell out of them, they couldn't be more proud of the parent you have become. They're happy that the two people they care about so much have found peace in each other, and that you have created a beautiful family.

They are confident that you will be able to provide and care for your child with unconditional love. They are relieved and happy that you have found each other and are creating a loving home.

Jenna smiles at you and Kian, taking in the sight of her family. You smile back, feeling a wave of relief and joy. You hug your child tightly, grateful for the opportunity to be a parent. You know that together, you will all be okay.

Jenna laughs at Kian, "He's like what's going on right now? He's so lost." You laugh with her, wiping a bit of drool off his lips. "I know right." Kian looks up at you both with a wide, toothless grin.

You and Jenna both awe at the sight, the innocence of his smile warming your hearts. Jenna leans in and gives him a kiss on the forehead. "He's so cute," she says. Eli speaks up. "I've smiled at you before Jenna and I never got a kiss on the forehead."

Jenna giggles and looks up at Eli with a twinkle in her eye. "That's because you're not as cute as Kian," she says, laughing a bit. Eli just rolls his eyes and then laughs along with the rest of them before taking Kian from you. Eli lowers his voice, whispering into Kian's ear. "If you weren't so cute, I'd fight you about it."

Kian grins and wraps his chubby arms around Eli's neck. Jenna and everyone else laughs as Eli kisses Kian's chubby cheeks. "You're the cutest, Kian," he says, laughing.

Your parents then come over and congratulate you, pulling you into tight hugs as happy tears fall down their faces. It was more than obvious that they felt like they had accomplished something extraordinary. They were so proud of you for all your hard work and dedication. They had seen you grow and mature and were relieved to see you reach your goals.

"We're so proud of you honey." You smiled, clearly overcome with emotion. You couldn't believe that your hard work had finally paid off. You thanked your parents for their unwavering support and encouragement throughout your journey.

Your dad shrugs you off, giving you a warm smile. "It's all you, kid." He pats your shoulder and you can't help but beam with pride. You knew that your parents were always there for you, and you are so grateful for their love and support.

Now back at home with Jenna, Kian, and Eli, you sit in the living room with a bowl of ice cream on your lap. You take a spoonful of the ice cream before sending a glare at Eli, "Please shut the heck up." He smiles, "Look at you! Being a good mom and not cursing in front of your son."

You shook your head and smiled. Kian just continued to crawl on the large black carpet that covered the marble flooring in your living room, oblivious to the bickering between his mom and his uncle.

Jenna walks into the living room, smiling. "Why don't you bother Olivia and not me?" Eli rolls his eyes, leaning back against the couch. "She's on tour! I miss my girlfriend."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You know she's coming back soon." Eli sighs, closing his eyes. "I know. I'm just impatient." Kian looks up, clapping his hands and squealing with laughter.

"Kian!" Kian's head turns at the sound of Jenna's voice, his face lighting up. Jenna kneels down on the carpet and opens her arms to Kian. "He's so whipped man." You mumble, Eli nods in agreement, "I would be too."

You send another glare at Eli before throwing a pillow at his face. Kian lifts himself with help from the leather couch in front of him, taking his first-ever step. Eli ducks the pillow and laughs, while Kian continues to walk to his mom. You sit up in your seat, a huge smile on your face.

Jenna's face matches yours, encouraging Kian to keep walking. "C'mon, baby, come." Kian's movements are still unsteady, but he manages to make it to his mom's.

Jenna gives you a look as her eyes begin to water, and you feel your heart swell with pride. You look at Eli and he smiles, his eyes twinkling with joy. "Oh, my flip-flop," Eli mutters, shocked as he just watched his nephew take his first steps.

Jenna bursts into tears of joy and pulls Kian in for a tight hug. Kian wraps his arms around his mother, his little face filled with joy. You stand up from the couch, walk over to Jenna and Kian, and wrap your arms around the both of them, Eli joins in, jumping up and down in joy.

"He walked! He walked!" Eli says, still jumping up and down. He soon stops, smiling at Kian. "Hi, five!" Kian reaches out his hand, and Eli eagerly gives him a high five. They both laugh, and Eli pats Kai on the back. "You did great!" he says, taking him from Jenna's arms.

"I think he just stole our son," you mutter to Jenna. Kian giggles as Eli carries him around the room. Jenna smiles and takes your hand in hers. "He's in good hands," she says, and you both laugh.

She then takes your hand, leading you into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face. "How does it feel being the first woman in the NBA and leading your team to a championship?"

You pause and take a deep breath, looking at Jenna before responding. "It feels amazing," you say, squeezing her hand. "I'm so proud of what I've accomplished, and I'm so lucky to have you and Kian here with me."

Jenna looks lovingly at you and says, "We're all so proud of you. You've worked hard and it's paid off." She gives your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it, a warm smile on her face. You smile back at her, bringing her into a kiss.

You hold each other close and savor the moment. You feel a wave of gratitude and love for Jenna, "I love how you get me." You mumble against her head, swaying her back in forth.

She looks deep into your eyes and holds your face in her hands, "I love you too, my love." You kiss one last time and pull away, feeling an indescribable peace.

taglist - @alexkolax @raven-ss @godsfavouritelesbiann @jennasslut @niqmandu @amburntfreeman @returnnofdamac @starry-night17 @get-the-fuck-outta-here @morganismspam23 @tai-hdg @crazyoffher2

[thrashkink-coven]

I grew up constantly being told that I was too prideful for my own good. At 10 years old I was having arguments with my mother because she didn’t respect me as a person with my own autonomy and thoughts. We would debate about religion, why bad things are just bad, and why you must obey your elders no matter what. At 10 years old I was insisting that such a thing could not be true, and even if it was, I simply would not respect it.

I remember back then, as I was being dragged into church and forced to wear clothes I didn’t like, when my mother would say “your pride will be the death of you, you are a child, I am an adult, what you say doesn’t matter, what you want doesn’t matter. You cannot talk back to me. You must do as I say. You’re stubborn, you’re selfish, you’re too prideful. You’ll understand when you’re an adult.”

And I remember thinking then that I would prove her wrong. I would never change in that way, I would always have too big of a mouth, I would always talk back to any unjust authority, and I would never obey an order simply because someone who sees themselves as more than me “said so”.

I remember being a child, only just starting to open my eyes to the world, and always always knowing that I had a right to be heard. I had a right to think for myself and choose what I wanted to do. But as a child, no one listens to you when you say that. No one thinks you truly understand. And now that I am a man and I continue to say the same things, people like my mother don’t know how to approach me. I was truthful and real since the time I could form words. Somehow, even as a young kid, I knew that I had a right to be free, and I would never let anyone take that away from me. Not even the people who created me.

So of course I fell in love with Lord Lucifer. Of course I was receptive to the light bringer and the serpent’s tongue. I’ve been told since the day I was conscious that I had already bitten the apple one thousand times. I was told that I was already ridden with pride so great it didn’t make sense for my age. And those church goers and priests didn’t know what to do with me.

I remember my baptism, when the priest asked me if I had anything to say, and I told him that my greatness came from no one other than me. I remember saying something like “When I do great things in the future, please know that it wasn’t because of this. I am the one who is responsible for all of my accomplishments”. And I remember there was a strange silence in the room that was overtaken by the sound of holy water rushing into my ears, and my mom wasn’t pleased with me afterwards. What a strange thing to hear come out of a kid’s mouth on the day of their baptism. Perhaps the water should have turned black and made it clear to everyone that I was the devil in disguise. Or perhaps there was never anything evil about that in the first place.

But Lucifer… I remember him saying to me that he’s always loved the way I talk about myself. Not because I speak particularly kindly or flatter myself, but because I have always spoken of myself as an individual, a person. Sometimes a flawed person, sometimes talented, sometimes foolish. But always, always a person. A person with dignified thoughts and feelings worthy of recognition and respect. Never once was I lesser than. Never once was I greater than either.

Perhaps I was born with the sin of pride, maybe it’s all I’ve ever known. My family constantly tried to beat it out of me in way of submission because they believed that God only accepts sheep that are docile. But there is one God, angel, demon, who never dealt in chains and cages.

Lucifer, Helel, light bringer, illuminator. Perhaps I was yours all along, because I’ve always been mine.

[bluewinnerangel]

im so not thinking straight right now and i probably should take a minute to collect my thoughts, but im really fking emotional from that video louis posted just now. and seeing it as an acknowledgement and a thank you for all the rainbow projects. and like hes just.. showing pride?! and growth and like. just sharing vulnerability and the journey and- like. fucking hell louis. and fucking thank you joshua i assume shit this video is amazing. like. on another level. the fans highlighted and the stuff they had to say I love that, all the backstage footage packed together mixed in with the show and fan shots works perfectly, the pace the vibe the everything is just fucking chefs kiss. but then louis. what he says. the voice over. Im not processing this properly so in order to process i tried to quote the whole thing (please someone make this nicer im just fast rambling here but i think its correct obvs), he goes:

Louis:

its only been maybe 5 months or 6 months since ive been on the road, bit its felt like a long time ive b een itching to get back out here I really enjoyed myself yesterday im im looking forward to tonight, its just a bit of push and pull sometimes and thats thats thats part of the mental battle ehm at times but one things for sure you know idididi this is where i love to be i love to do those shows and i love to feel the energy of the crowd [then theres a pause and it goes to crowd shots of fans waving rainbows while SHEEE IS BEAUTYYYY] to come back and to tour this album it does feel different does feel special and a difference sense of accomplishment definitely

Fan1:

fan: trust whats going on around you and everything that you go through its just what makes you who you are like who you are as a person

Fan2:

his songs always have some form of encourangement in there hes def a big brother to all of us remind you to have faith in what you havent done yet and what you can do

and then the bit where im just bawling:

Louis:

like all this time and shes beauty i think werent as self explanatory werent as like obvious for me when i was imagining what theyd sound like live and i think steve and the rest of the bandlads(lol?) have done a brilliant job at that. sometimes when youre in your own head even tho you can see the people in front of you and and and in hindsight [this is where shots of rainbow project come in] you can see potentially the importance to it and when youre in your own head that just becomes background noise so ive i tried to be more conscious in the last couple of shows and be more like aware of those things spotting them and really taking them in

like fuck like i imasdf kjdsfamdlwj!?!!?!?!

[the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep]

Alchemy 410 Chapter 9. Combustion

Summary: Ten years had passed since Gale and Illyth last saw each other and two years since their falling out. Gale returned to Blackstaff Academy as a professor and a hero of the Sword Coast, only to run into the person he never thought he'd see again.

Rating: T

Pairing: Gale x OC

Word count: 1.4k

Read Chapter 1 here!

Gale ran his fingers over the curvy woodgrain of his desk, feeling the dim sparks of Weave left behind by any number of professors who had sat here over the years. He wondered to himself just how many wizards sat where he was sitting now. What’s more, he hoped that he could be just as skilled a professor as his predecessors were. Even though Gale chose a life of lesser renown, he had every intention of accomplishing greatness within his new profession.

Classes were due to resume in a month and Gale already compiled his syllabi for the term. While he was disappointed that neither he nor his simulacra could teach every subject, he was still excited to be teaching illusion magics. This term he would only be teaching introductory and intermediate classes, but he intended to expand his offerings in future terms to include advanced courses, lab sections, and special topics in illusion spell-casting for students who hoped to specialize in it.

Gale let out a satisfied sigh as he plunked down into the tufted armchair at his desk. He looked around the office with pride, seeing every single scroll and tome in its designated place. It was a small room nestled against the westernmost wall of the department, just big enough to fit a desk, a couple of comfortable chairs and bookshelves. He was fortunate enough to have a small porthole window facing out int the academy’s courtyard. Although it didn’t provide much of a view beyond the cobblestone plaza and its ever-flowing fountain, the window brought in a comfortable ray of western exposure sunlight in the late afternoons. In academia, one could appreciate small blessings.

His office was carefully curated to meet his needs as a professor. It served as a miniature library and his personal sanctuary. He had nearly every tome, scroll, and text related to illusion magic readily accessible to him. Anything that didn’t fit in his office could easily be found in the academy’s library, should he need it. When he told Tav that he wished to one day have a gaggle of scholars trailing after him, never did he think it would become a reality.

Tav was, in fact, quite proud of Gale. They’d told him as much in their most recent letter to him. It had taken months for their letter to reach him from Avernus and it took Gale several tendays more before he could open the letter without sorrow squeezing his guts. He understood why they left for Avernus with Karlach and Wyll. It was a decision that made sense for them, even if it wasn’t the outcome Gale had hoped for when he asked for their hand in marriage. They would still be friends, despite the fact that such a friendship was built upon the ashes of what was never meant to be.

Tara and his mother were pleased as punch that he’d returned home relatively unscathed. He resumed his weekly routine of joining them for dinner on the first day of each tenday. This was a practice that was halted by the Netherese orb and it brought him immense joy to be able to sit at his mother’s table without the risk of detonating. They still harangued him about his bachelorhood, but Gale felt far more appreciative of their love than ever before.

Not even two years ago, he aspired to be the greatest wizard in the realms. More recently still, he very nearly ascended to godhood. All he wanted now was to relax by the crackling hearth in his library with a book, a glass of wine, and Tara at his side.

“To think I almost forsook the possibility of this for Godhood,” he murmured to himself. Satisfied by the work he’d done that day, Gale stood from his desk and collected his travel-worn backpack. His colleagues had gently suggested that he get a “proper” bag befitting a professor, but Gale insisted that carrying his bag from his adventuring days suited him more than any other option. He settled the battle scarred backpack on his shoulders and cast an advanced Arcane Lock on his office door as he stepped out into the hallway. Time to head home, he thought to himself.

✨✨✨✨✨

In a cramped office not far from Gale’s, in the department of arcane linguistics, Professor Illyth Arabana was having a far less peaceful afternoon.

“Perhaps I’m misunderstanding,” Illyth chuckled breathlessly, “did you just say that the chancellor cut the funding for the Djerad Thymar expedition?” The drow woman looked up at her high elf colleague, Ardryll, who looked just as frustrated as she did. “Surely, you jest.”

Ardryll sighed and shrugged tiredly. “No jest, Illyth. They reallocated the funding to the Department of Illusory Magic. Some hot-shot new professor that they simply ‘had to hire’.”

Illyth rolled her eyes and sunk back into her desk chair. “Bloody spell-casters,” she hissed. “They would be nothing without linguistics and translations. Don’t they recognize that?”

Ardryll sat across from her colleague as she shook her head in dismay. “Linguistics always gets the short end of the stick.”

Sadly, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Illyth and Ardryll. While special funding for any department was difficult to come by and even harder to keep, this wouldn’t be the first time that their work was curtailed by one of the spell-casting departments. While some projects could simply be restructured or modified, Illyth and Ardryll’s expedition to the dragonborn city of Djerad Thymar was the crux of their research into Tymantheran prestidigitation phonology. Without this research trip, there could be no research project.

Illyth clenched her teeth. “I won’t stand for this,” she growled. “We have put this project off for far too long.” She rose to her feet and started towards the office door. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders with an angry huff.

Ardryll punched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “Illyth,” she began gently, “you know how this story ends. We’ve been running into this since Candlekeep. Spell-casting departments always get more funding. Their work is flashier and draws more attention to the academy.”

Illyth glared at Ardryll. “If we don’t stand up for ourselves, it’ll-“

“Illyth,” Ardryll interrupted, laying a hand on her colleague’s arm. “For the love of Oghma, stand down. This is not a hill worth dying on. We’ll get the funding somehow.”

Only Ardryll could manage to talk Illyth down from starting a fight. Although Illyth’s forceful approach yielded positive results at times, Ardryll was the negotiator and peacemaker of the two.

Illyth swallowed hard and dropped her shoulders. “Fine,” she muttered. She was still filled with a burning anger at their situation, but Ardryll had a point; there were some battles that they would always lose.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Illyth suggested as she reached for the doorknob. “Yawning Portal as usual?”

“Mmm…” Ardryll hummed. She slid her cloak onto her shoulders and pursed her lips pensively. “Maybe The Elfstone instead?”

Illyth nodded in agreement. The Elfstone was a tavern that catered to elves. Few, if any, humans or other races were tolerated or welcome. While Illyth’s presence as a drow still raised eyebrows, most of the patrons left her alone when she was there with Ardryll.

“Elfstone it is,” she replied, casting an advanced Arcane Lock on her door. The two women walked down the winding hallway towards the front entrance of the tower. Illyth glowered as they passed the Department of Illusory Magic.

Bastards, she thought to herself, trying not to let her ire drive her to giving the chancellor a piece of her mind.

While Illyth was lost in thought, she failed to notice the dark haired man exiting the office ahead of her. He was muttering something under his breath as he locked his office. He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to his surroundings as he turned around, nearly colliding with the two elf women.

“My apologies,” the man said sincerely. “I was lost in thought and I-“

He faltered and his dark eyes widened in recognition. “Illyth,” he smiled, “it can’t possibly be you, can it?”

Illyth recognized Gale immediately. His hair had grayed and his face bore subtle signs of aging. Since when did he have a beard? Illyth froze as her heart began to race. She narrowed her burgundy eyes into slits of anger. “Hello, Gale,” she muttered flintily. Illyth turned to Ardryll. “We’re late.” With that, Illyth moved hastily towards the exit with a confused Ardryll following after her. Gale watched, stunned, as his old friend all but ran from him.

“What in the Nine Hells was that?” Ardryll asked. Her confusion was evident. Why would Illyth react like that to someone who seemed to know her?

Illyth looked at her friend with her eyes still blazing furiously. “That was the hot-shot who took our research money.”

[matthyeu]

marker of the end ― zh.

pairing ⇢ zhang hao x gn!reader 

genre ⇢ fluff, angst, academic rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, college!au

warnings ⇢ like one swear word, mention of drinking

word count ⇢ 1.5k

synopsis ⇢ this would be the last time you and zhang hao crossed paths as rivals.

this was the moment you were waiting for the past few years. hearing your name called to walk across the big stage. shaking hands with several of the university board. most importantly, looking your rival in the eyes in a gloating way to celebrate your own accomplishments, your graduation at the top of your department. you had won. 

what you didn’t expect was for zhang hao to look back at you with a soft look in his eyes, a wide smile on his face, and two thumbs up for you once you made eye contact. for the first time, you could understand why he was the campus crush. you never understood such blasphemy because the two of you had always been at ends with each other in academics. 

at seven years old, you found the most pride in your ability to quickly do math, always completing the tests your teacher distributed every week in under 20 seconds with 100% accuracy. there was no one that could beat you. 

until the time you and hao both brought your tests up to the teacher at the same time, the first time he had caught up to you. by some miraculous twisted fate, you had gotten one question wrong, and he had taken the title of the week’s fastest perfect scorer. 

“ha, finally!” he exclaimed. 

“mmm just a fluke.” 

at twelve years old, you found the most pride in taking honors classes in secondary school. you were always placed with students who were older than you, many of them baffled at how such a young person could be learning the same material as them. 

but of course, there was also a certain someone who always managed to find their way into your class as well. in fact, the first time you had one of those classes, he plopped down next to you, his irritating aura being something you could always sense. 

“fancy seeing you here,” he jeered, taking out his notebooks and pencil pouch filled with various pens for note taking, “thought you’d be stuck in the regular classes seeing how panicked you were for placement exams.”

“shut it zhang,” you spat, slamming your own pouch onto the table and drawing attention to yourself, “you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

at age eighteen, you found the most pride in taking the podium at your high school graduation, doing a speech as the valedictorian. being able to stand there amongst your peers knowing you had worked the hardest and done the most for your position was everything you dreamed of. 

however, you had to share it with him. the teachers tried and tried, but they could not find even the slightest difference in your grades. you were practically the same student: studious, hardworking, and intelligent. there was nothing to set the two of you apart, so it was only fair for you to take the podium together. you only wished they had allocated more time for the venue because sharing your valedictorian speech was definitely not something you always wanted. 

“now don’t you try to push me off the stage in front of everyone,” he warned, “that wouldn’t be very top goody-two-shoes student of you now. let’s be civil today.” 

you rolled your eyes. “funny for you to say that when you’re always the one provoking me with your irritating voice. i already have to hear your voice blasting through the speakers, so why don’t you just save my ears from bleeding before i even have to hear that?”

at age twenty-one, you found the most pride in sitting at the library speeding through your assignments at a quick yet accurate pace. you tried not to procrastinate, but sometimes things did happen. at those times, there was nothing more satisfying than seeing the to-do list diminish into nothing. 

and for once, you didn’t mind your rival sitting across from you doing work. his presence actually made you feel more motivated to complete your assignments, wanting to finish your long list before he finished his. 

“finally off your spree?” he questioned, looking up to see you chewing on your pencil at a particularly hard problem, “too hard for you?” 

“please shut the fuck up. i can’t concentrate if you’re bothering me.” 

“okay chill,” he raised his hands up in defense, “i was just wondering if i could maybe help or anything. you look like you have a lot on your plate today.” 

“you? help me? you literally pray for my downfall, why would you do that?” you interrogated, believing he would somehow sabotage your problem by giving you some preposterous answer. 

“yeah, but you seem to be stressing a lot, so i thought i’d offer. one nice act in our rivalry won’t undermine the countless other things we’re at each other’s throats for, right?” 

you eyed him carefully, still wary, but you had no other choice. you couldn’t even comprehend the question. “fine.” 

looking back, maybe the rivalry was fading out at the end. nearing graduation, it seemed the two of you cooled down, not constantly trying to one-up the other in any class. in fact, you no longer shared most of the same classes and were basically in your own worlds. apart from the occasional glare you gave each other while walking across campus, your hatred had not been so apparent. even your friends had pointed out how you complained less about the equally-studious boy. 

that was why you let your guard down when he approached you after the ceremony, when you were taking pictures with your family and friends. they all wanted to capture the moment on your wonderful day. 

“well, we meet again,” he joked, trying to copy the once threatening tone he had the first time he said that to you in the second grade. though, now there was no sense of menace in his tone, only congratulatory. “good job out there. you deserve it.” 

“why thank you zhang.” 

“hao, you can call me hao,” he clarified, sticking his hand out as if to mimic a first interaction, “you don’t have to refer to me with my last name anymore. we’re not rivals now.” 

“are we not now?” you ask teasingly as you shook his hand.

“unless you want to apply to the same jobs and try to rob each other of opportunities, then sure,” he teased back. 

“i never thought i’d see the day you two get along.” 

the two of you turned around to see your friend, the one who had received the most complaints about hao throughout your college experience. there were so many nights where you went on tangents about how stupid your rival was, more of them drunk than sober. if anyone knew how much you hated hao, it was them. 

“i say we should save this as a memory. how do you two feel about a picture?” 

you looked at hao to try to see his stance on it, but he only gave a mere shrug as a response. you assumed that was a positive response, so you moved next to him for the picture. 

“get a little closer now you two! who stands a foot apart in pictures?” 

rolling your eyes at your friend, you inched closer to hao until your bodies touched. it was the first time you two had ever gotten so close. 

“now, let’s get a little arm around the shoulder!” 

once again, you wanted to strangle your friend for the nitpicky requests. it was just a picture! all that needed to be done was a simple click to capture the moment. though, to make it go faster, you obliged, swinging your arm around his shoulder while he did the same to you. it was an awkward position for you to be in after despising him for most of your life. 

as your friend tried to find a good angle, hao made conversation with you through his smile. “so what if i asked you for lunch as ex-rivals?” 

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “ex-rivals in what kind of way? like are we hanging out as friends, or are you asking me out on a date?” 

he chuckled. “i didn’t even think of the second option, but if you want it to be a date, i can certainly make it that.” 

you stepped on his foot, but he had to hide the pain for the sake of the photo. “that is not what i meant. do not get ahead of yourself. i’m just making sure you’re not trying anything.” 

“yeah, like i would ever. so how’s next wednesday sound?”

“sure.” 

“awww you guys look so cute!” your friend complimented as they came over, showing the picture to both you and hao, “do you want me to send it to you?” 

you waved it off, “you can keep it. why would i want to have a picture of myself with a guy i spent my whole life loathing in my camera roll?” 

what you didn’t know is you’d be asking that same friend to dig up the picture from their camera roll when you and hao bought your first home together. that way, you’d both have a memory of the moment your rivalry ended and your love began. 

[goodluckclove]

RANDOM EXCERPT TIME

the cool thing about migration patterns is that ollie exists now, a character who's magic comes from her arfid. so i actually have an entirely new way to conceptualize food and nutrition.

as someone who struggles with disordered eating i really related to writing this sequence between her and tenzin (thanks to @godsmostfuckedupgoblin for inspiring me to set it in my real-life favorite park in portland). i'd love to see if anyone else in a similar place finds some joy in this!

it's not sad by the way it's very cute. i like ollie a lot.

By the time they finished the bag of peas was half defrosted. Ollie tore open the top and was tossing loose handfuls ahead of them, which quickly summoned more ducks than Tenzin was able to fully process.

“Touching peas like that doesn’t bother you?” Tenzin asked, watching form her corner of the bench.

“Hm? Ah. No, why?”

“You used to freak out about eating anything that popped in your mouth. That was probably one of your biggest icks.”

Ollie grinned and shook her head. “No, no. Eggs are my biggest ick. Uh, yeah – I’m not about to eat any of this trash. But it’s better for the birds than bread or crackers. And you gotta be nice to birds,” she leaned down slowly until she was far enough for a larger beige duck to snap some green bulbs from the palm of her outstretched hand. “I am growing, though, Like, as a person. Had a big win the other day.”

“Yeah?”

“Ate an olive.”

She wiped some moisture off her palms, slapping them together in a grandly dramatic fashion before leaning back against the bench and idly rubbing along the edge of her bad knee. Ollie cast Tenzin a look of bemused pride, the type of pride that was an actual sense of accomplishment masked as humor in order to deflect potential mockery.

Tenzin put the groceries back in the bag and set it on the concrete at their feet, where it was quickly inspected by their horde of hungry ducks. She turned on the bench, crossing one leg on the seat of it. “Like, a whole olive?”

“Straight out of the jar,” Ollie smirked.

“On purpose? I mean, did you know –?”

Ollie waggled her brow. “Oh, I knew. Knew the whole time.”

“Holy shit.”

That got a pleased laugh out of Ollie. She made a dismissive, joking gesture, but as the amusement faded Tenzin saw a slight flush simmering along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“An olive,” it’s funny how one small act could take precedence over years of unspoken resentment. “That would’ve killed you when we were kids,” Tenzin leaned forward and lowered her voice. “How’d it happen? What’d you think afterwards?”

At first Ollie said nothing. She broadened her grin slightly, though tinging it with a hint of suspicion. Or maybe embarrassment? It was hard to tell. Finally she broke from her line of sight and snickered sheepishly at their audience of wandering ducks.

“I was in the Mess Hall,” she began. “Renja left a bottle on the counter. I saw it, and – I don’t know – something broke inside of me. I was just like fuck it and I ate one. It really isn’t –”

“Did you like it?” Tenzin cut in.

Ollie looked at her. She scoffed again. “Not really. The texture was fine, and I liked how salty it was, but it kind of tasted like blood.”

Tenzin stared at her friend. Her curls were well maintained. There were strands of silver that now stood out among the occasional ringlet of chestnut brown. She had smile lines starting to form in the corners of her mouth. Because she smiled a lot. Ollie always smiled a lot.

“You ate an olive,” Tenzin whispered in astonishment.

Ollie looked like she was going to laugh, but didn’t. She locked eyes again with Tenzin, searching her face, seeing something in Tenzin the same way she saw something in Ollie. When she smiled again it was surprisingly gentle.

“I ate an olive,” Ollie murmured proudly.

[potatoqueensays]

hey u shoudl iek,,,, tootally tlak about that reverve falls au rehash you said you were amking,...... for like.,.,,, totally no reason,,,,,,, yeah,,,,,,,,, dont mind the voice recorder dont mind it im not the fbi wdym we;re in an interrogation room what gaslighting isnt a thing ure tripping anyways

HI!!! HI HI HI!!!! ANON HELLO!!!!

...So yes!!! I am working on a teensy weensy little rehashing of the Reverse Falls au. I'm sure as we all know, the original is a bit....outdated so to say. What with suspicious art and some questionable decisions here and there.

I'm not saying mine is better! No way no how, I'm absolutely sure there's a bunch of people out there with something better. This is just a little thing I'm working on with a friend of mine ( @danklemckspankle ) and how we would imagine a reverse falls au. Rather than it being low-key swapping personalities, it swaps roles as it should. And I'd like to think the premise is exciting as well! It makes me very very happy to talk about it as it's been plaguing my mind for a week or two. Tbh ever since book of bill came out....

So!! Lemme talk about it a little!!! I hope you're ready for a little mystery wink wink

Ahem. So! Our little story starts in a little shack called "The Shack of Telepathy"!! (So original yeah I know)

Bud Gleeful is the shack owner, living as a single father with his son Gideon Gleeful. Bud makes money by being a tourist trap, grabbing people in under the premise of reading their minds! (Gravity falls people are just easy to read but shhh don't tell Toby)

Gideon is a little 9 year old with a heart of gold and full of promise. It's a new summer in Gravity Falls and he has big plans! He wants to have the best adventure he can, and hopefully get a new badge on his vest!!

Yes, this little guy wants to be a boy scout!! Unfortunately, there is no chapter in Gravity Falls, so he's gonna have to make one himself!

Here's my little drawing ref of Gideon. Look at him, he's so squishable

With his dad's pin machine, he makes badges whenever he does something good or a big accomplishment! (His pride and joy badge is the one he made with his dad on Father's Day :] )

He really wants to have a good summer. He hopes, by golly, he hopes.

Now a neighborhood down, is town darling Pacifica Northwest. Her family isn't as rich in this as canon, so her family sits as upper middle class at most. Modern suburbia yk? Her family wants to set an example for the people of Gravity Falls, taming the weirdness out or whatever they say.

Pacifica just wants a summer where she can have a little relief. Away from the eye of her parents and the public. Just one day where she can be herself!

Little drawing ref of Pacifica. She still wears a bunch of makeup. (Just....maybe one less powdering. Maybe.) Also she's 12.

So she goes walking in town while her parents are busy planning their big weekly barbeque or whatever. She comes across this kid named Gideon. He compliments her sense of style and makes an offhanded comment about making a badge or something.

Now Pacifica, despite however much her parents influence her, starts her own trends and styles. (With the permission of her parents) So when this kid compliments her she goes on a (grateful) rant and they hit it off!

Gideon tells her about his dad's shack, and all the business business business Bud does. Pacifica talks about her parents planning events every week and, begrudgingly, church. They scurry off into the woods to just explore, and be kids!

On their way as Gideon is messing around with nature, they come across this metal tree. Weird, huh. They do some digging around and press buttons, when a crater opens in the ground!! Pacifica goes to check it out, pushing Gideon back in case of danger.

What they see is a journal! Very dusty and cobwebbed, but a journal with the number 3 painted on it. They pick it up and peruse through it. Pacifica is skeptical at first, wondering if it's part of any tourist trap Gideon's dad planned. When Gid says no, they realize the journal mayyyy have some merit. With how weird Gravity Falls is all the time and the little things that happen here and there, the author of this journal could be telling the truth.

So when they go back to the shack, the talk about the journal and what it could mean.

Now I haven't planned too far ahead to make a full writing of each episode, barely even the pilot, but! This is the gist of it in my head.

As you know, yes I mentioned Ford was evil! And I'm keeping a little of the previous reverse falls lore for this (surrounding the pines. Other things will be different!)

Maybe I'll make a post talking about the pines, but y'know. I just wanna talk about the general feeling I have for it in my head.

Have a bonus doodle of Gideon reading the journal (for an author who doesn't deserve it)

I'm very excited to work on this. Mayyyybe I'll share a bit of the roles with you that are swapped. Juuuust to keep interest ;)

Bud -> Stan

Stan -> Mixture of Pacifica and Gid's parents

Pacifica & Gideon -> The mystery twins ofc

Wendy -> Robbie

Soos -> Dude he's just himself here. Soos is perfection and cannot be interchanged (he goes undercover for Stan and works at the shack every other day. Undercover name is Deuce because of that one guy that looked like him 👍)

Shitty discord whiteboard sketch of Soos :]

Ford -> Bill tbh. How else is he gonna be so evil?

I'll probs make another post talking about the pines family, but I'd like to make colored refs of them first y'know?

I hope this catches your interest. Other characters are reeeeally integral to the plot and I'd like to keep the mystery just for a little moment 💥💥

Anyway ty for asking I'm so very happy to share this with someone that's not already aware of it 🎉🎉

[sillyvampireboi]

Blood Delivery

Warnings: blood, neck biting, soft dom, master/servant, blood drinking

Summary: Renfield messed up. He had one very important task and he failed. His Master needs blood but he fails to deliver it. What can he do to still be a good little familiar?

tags my beloveds: @giosnape | @unholy-gigi thank you for beta reading !

a/n:I think this is the most erotic(?) thing I’ve ever written, and the first of that sort. I’ve left the Master for interpretation, using they/them pronouns. So it can be a gender neutral reader or your oc of sorts, etc

Comments are really appreciated:) I just want him to be loved and taken care of. He deserves all the kindness TvT

This whole fic was written around the sketch I did ~

The Diamond of the Night Sky took Her place, 

Covering everything with cold, dreamy light, 

And gifting new shadows to the frightened ones. 

As She looked down upon her few hours kingdom, 

She saw one lonely soul, 

Sprinting in the snow,

He felt cold,

Deep in his bones,

His clothes clinging to body,

With the melting snow.

As Renfield was running,

Dark swallowing him,

He felt fire burning within.

Next to their Queen,

The Stars were blinking mercilessly,

As if judging him,

In his failed attempts.

Nonono! Please! 

I’ve already screw one thing up,

I can’t be late too!

I need more bugs, 

I need to be faster,

I have to be there! Please! 

Renfield’s racing thoughts were occupied,

With fear and worry to arrive,

In time. And how to explain,

Why he couldn’t bring,

Blood for his Ruler of everything.

He adored his new Master very much,

Making their every wish,

Spoken or thought, 

His very purpose to accomplish. 

They weren’t violent as Dracula was,

There was care in their movements towards him. 

That was the reason why, 

Panic pinched Renfield’s heart, 

Always doting and mild,

I can’t bear to see, 

The creeping disappointment in those eyes!

He entered into the house, 

As silently as he could,

But his Master was already awake,

Lighting candles in the dark,

“Good evening, Robert”

The smoothing voice called out,

Turning their face towards the servant. 

Robert ! 

This one word filled the familiars heart with so much warmth,

In those freezing lips,

That can ruin and bring death, 

That name held,

A certain tenderness. 

Calling him by his first name,

Filled his chest,

Planted the seed of pride and—

“Where have you been? 

Why are you soaking wet,

And I can sense no new smell.”

With that, 

Every previous fear re-entered Renfield’s head, 

He dropped to his knees,

In front of his Lord,

Trying to be as small as he could, 

“I’m so sorry Master—I c-couldn’t bring your meal,

They’ve been all locked up— you see there is this illness, a-and they’re all inside,

I have to be careful because you like it here—“

Renfield’s shaky voice filled the room,

As he was hushing out excuses,

Why he couldn’t fulfill,

His task approvingly. 

His Ruler of the Night was just standing there,

Listening,

And couldn’t help but feel adoration within,

I’m quite annoyed it’s true,

But it warms my still heart,

To see,

How much my needs matter to him.

The master was musing as he stood,

Looking down at his follower.

Renfield’s face shyly turned,

To seek any kind of reaction,

Big yellow eyes sank into dark ones,

Suffocating by the darkness within them, 

Silently pleading, pleading and pleading,

But without release.

Renfield messed up his task again, 

And his master wasn’t happy with that. 

Oh the terrible ordeal of being seen! 

How he wished the Earth to open up

And swallow him. 

Pathetic little creature,

His master thought,

While looking down at him amused,

How to hold the strength to berate,

And mark my punishments onto his head,

When he’s looking up at me so desperate? 

He is so so sickly sweet to care,

About my musings and beliefs. 

The master looked down at him again,

Bestowing a fang showing smirk upon him.

“That’s fine, 

You’ll bring someone next time,

But until then, 

I can drink from you instead.” 

Their voice was deep and honey sweet,

Unlike with Dracula,

Now he felt safe. 

In an instant, 

Robert’s whole posture changed,

Excitement running through his veins, 

“From me?! 

Am I really good enough for your taste? 

Oh Master, please take everything you need!”

With shaky hands he started to peel,

Off his scarf and shirts,

While blush was climbing up his neck and ears.

“You still haven't answered my question Robert.”

“Q-q-question?”

“Why’re your clothes so wet?”

They asked,

As they stepped to the fireplace,

And used a match,

So hotness roared towards the kneeling man,

“It snowed outside, 

And to not be late,

I ran through shortcuts in the woods.”

The Master sat down the armchair,

In front of the fire and gently said,

“Come here.”

He did as he was told,

Stopping in front of his Lord,

“Take off your clothes,

Then use that blanket there,

When you are done, 

Come back here.”

It didn’t take a minute for Renfield to get undressed, 

And to stand naked next to the fire again,

His beautiful from was then covered with a blanket,

His blue-again-eyes reflecting flames in them. 

The Master couldn't deny,

How pretty he looked waiting there,

White, pale skin getting colour,

Blue eyes sparkling with joy,

Dark, wet hair sticking to cheeks,

Letting watermarks to fall on perfect skin. 

With one strict motion the Ruler pulled him into their lap,

Petting his dark head,

“Now, Who told you that stupidity, 

That you aren’t good enough for me?” 

“I… Dracula always said—“

“Forget that terrible old man! 

Listen to me Robert,

You are the best familiar I could have,

So attentive, 

Always trying your best,

Execute every little wish I have.

Oh Robert~

Forget those words of poison,

You are the best boy in my opinion.” 

The last words were whispered into his ear,

While the Master slowly pulled away,

Dark locks to free his nape.

Shivers ran through his covered form,

While flower petals traveled up his breast,

Leaving his cheeks blossoming red.

Oh so slowly, lips ghosted over his neck, 

Never touching,

Yet leaving heat in their tracks,

Then leisurely the marble lips

Touched the sensitive skin of his,

Tongue marveld over delicate skin, 

Brush of fangs leaving butterflies in chest,

Breath breaking in that pretty neck.

“Have I ever told you dear, 

That the clavicle of yours is beautiful? “

Ocean eyes went wide in surprise,

Before he felt the bite.

Two sharp teeth broke the skin, 

Letting blood flowing,

Warm, red liquid streamed,

Colouring the canvas of porcelain skin,

Renfield sank deeper and deeper into that saccharine death,

Welcoming pain like a watchful friend. 

He was suffocating under the passion, 

That swam through his veins,

Creating weak moans,

Which from his lips escaped. 

“Master …. please..”

“Please what? 

I don’t understand what you want.”

At this point,

Whimpers were a constant thing,

Moaning more and more by the minute,

Which was music in his Master’s ears.

Such beautiful symphonies you create, 

Floating in this tormenting pleasure, 

And how adorable you look, 

With those red cheeks and heavy lids.

“ I n-eed— I ww-ant you to h-hold me please! 

Renfield got pulled more close,

Letting him to bury himself in dark clothes,

Lying his head on their shoulder,

Leaving whimpers and kisses on their neck.

His Ruler of everything kept kissing,

And leaving purple flowers of lust,

On the cervix of his.

The Master drank and sucked and drank,

Torturing his beloved,

However Robert felt safe,

Sinking deeper and deeper into that beautiful abyss.

Chest heaved,

Moans increased,

He was clutching to his Master firm,

“You’ve been so good Robert,

You can let go.”

And submerged in pleasure he did,

Feeling safe and screamed.

As his breathing slowed,

He felt sleep pulling him close,

And there he fall into the land of dreams,

In the arms of his Chief.

The Master hinted kisses on his drying hair,

Clasping him in a tight embrace.

As they remained by the heat of flames,

The Moon shone through huge windows,

And with Her Star they sang,

A lullaby of lovely dreams.