#gwyn answered

[elpida]

[ MOUTH ]:          sender notices the receiver’s distress from across a crowded room, and silently mouths “are you okay?” to them. (for Riley and Gwyn!)

too many people. that was what the rising panic started to boil down too. there were far too many people brushing up against gwyn's arms and bumping her, to the point that she'd started to shuffle further and further back, hoping her back might find a wall in this room. her fingers went from playing with the ends of her hair to fumbling together in the increase of panic. despite all of it and the way it felt like it crept up her throat, she scanned that room in search of riley, the one person that might begin to understand that gwyn did not think she could do this.

she stuck to her little life, happy and private and anxiety plagued her, some weeks more than others. she could dress pretty and look the part but the tears welling in her eyes were as telling as they had to be. today was not one of her brave days, it felt like the room was closing in on her. finally she locked eyes with riley and started to shake her head. no. none of this was okay, breath was being stolen from her lungs and then people-- god so many people.

she opened her mouth to say something, help maybe, but instead she just sort of wiggled her fumbling hands in a gesture that was her way of showing, she couldn't be here, that she had to go. gwyn was floundering.

[sneez]

beloved gwynplaine (please don't tag as body horror or anything similar)

[wildbasil]

group therapy (they make each other worse)

[freyjas-musings]

gwyn and az are in a staring contest, who do you think is winning😂

You would be surprised but Az cheats flusters Gwyn and wins .... she is extremely agitated that she lost .... she makes him pay 10 times over 😅😅

[not-poignant]

New Palmarosa chapter was *chefs kiss*! I adore all interaction between your Raphael and Astarion! I’m hoping the glimpse of True Submission we see will involve some more BDSM and kink elements 🤭

Hi hi anon!

I'm also hoping that the glimpse of true submission we see will involve more BDSM and kink elements!

That being said, Raphael's not like a professional dominant or anything. He's just a torturer who likes sadism in his kink/sex life in this story. That being said, I'm sure he has a ton of tools at his disposal that he can use if he wants to.

He's been introducing Astarion to his sexual proclivities very, very slowly. He very much wants Astarion hooked into that second contract, which has no actual end-date (it's entirely possible Astarion will complete the ritual, get access to the sun, and still not ever be able to leave if he can't submit - and then one has to ask oneself: would he be okay with that? Because he might actually be okay with that. We'll find out!)

Once Astarion is in the second contract, there's no more walking away. That's it, his body and flesh belongs to Raphael until Raphael gets true submission (and the ritual is completed). At that point, Raphael can torture him mercilessly every day if he wanted to, and never help Astarion ever again re: submission. He'd own Astarion until our vampire got hold of that contract and tore it apart.

Astarion knows that, which is why he's demanding to see true submission in action.

I sadly think Astarion will see it and still not understand and still think it's easy to do. (And for the folks who asked, no it's not subspace. You can force a sub into subspace pretty easily if you have the time and tools without any sign of 'true submission' - hell you can do it to a complete stranger). I think the best place to get an idea of true submission is to look at what Raphael actually wanted from Hope. He went about trying to get it from her in the wrong way, which shows he doesn't exactly have a skillset here for what he's truly looking for, but there's at least one point where he says exactly what he wants from her and we - the reader - know just how impossible that is based on Raphael's own actions.

And once you look at Raphael's wish through the lens of turning Astarion into his new Hope, or needing someone new to obsess over, I think it becomes at least a little clearer what Raphael's aiming for.

(Tbh I thought this was so on the nose - but Raphael needs a new Hope, his last one didn't survive the battle. He wanted one thing from her ultimately, and never received it. And he planned on keeping her until he got it. To me, Astarion being the new stand-in for Hope, and Raphael being clearer about what he wants from the outset...? Like...oof. Astarion hasn't exactly realised that's what's happening to him yet, but it is).

[namelessayakashi]

Prompt: batblob getting very excited about his favorite tv show/movie

you, beloved anon, get not one but 8 drawings bc i HAD to make it a lil comic -- i present to you, batblob finding out his favourite series has been rebooted on tv

& ofc, as all reboots binges go, so-n-so hours later:

[ask-imaginary-dreamers]

Hey there, you're quite a cool looking pokemon! Are you travelling through these mountain by yourself? And what kind of pokemon are you if you don't mind me asking?

“I hail from Celestica Town, and am the child of Isolde. I am a Glaceon/Togekiss, hence I am fully evolved.”

“I’ve traveled through these mountains alone many times, and I’ve never even spotted one myself. Well unless this Meowstic intends to steal metal from here.” They give a look to Cyclone, “Which they better not.”

@curce / @redolentgrove / @blueespeon

@ask-the-lywelles / @cyclone-the-meowstic

[Gwyn’s profile has been unlocked]

[florencemtrash]

my poor fiancé has to deal with me screaming about shadowsinger and inkbird lmao THE MOST RECENT CHAPTER IS SO INSANELY GOOD i’m so so excited for our beloved little clairvoyant’s night court arc and training her powers and like!!! fuck!!! you’re so so talented and i am seated patiently for all the upcoming parts 🧎‍♀️🫶

Thank youuuuu. And shout out to all the supportive partners who have to deal with us after reading something 😂. I recently finished reading Iron Flame and immediately had to call my boyfriend at the airport like "I HAVE THOUGHTS AND I NEED TO SHARE THEM WITH YOU!"

And I'm really excited for Y/n's little Night Court arc as well! I loved writing about the Day Court because we don't get to see it in the books and I hope I did it justice, but let's be honest, Velaris has got some fun things Y/n will really enjoy.

I started writing chapter ten last night about her training and I can't wait to share it with you all when it's finished. This one's for the burnt out academic weapons who need support in their lives.

[alrightbuckaroo]

Ada! Another one for Nice Ask Week -

Write and direct 911 lone star: the movie. Who's in it? Who isn't? What's a good genre for lone star? What's the story?

Hello Tessa!

Maybe it's because I simply just adore the Benoit Blanc mysteries, but I would love to see this gang in a whodunit! One that's both very campy and fun, but also one that provides really nuanced social commentary.

It would start with the gang showing up at a 1940s themed Murder Mystery dinner that one of Nancy's high school thespians friends invited her to and by extension, invited the rest of the 126 (plus Grace + Carlos of course).

I know what you're thinking, but yes, it has to be the 1940s because Marjan do a transatlantic accent I think she'd be perfect at it.

It takes place in a mansion out in the boonies; and we're talking mansion mansion. Secret tunnels, false bookshelves, the whole shebang.

They're all enjoying a nasty dinner of a 1940s classic Brown Sugar Meatloaf when the lights suddenly go out.

However, when the lights come back on, they see that someone was actually murdered.

Everyone but Carlos decides to take it upon themselves to solve the actual murder as opposed to waiting for law enforcement. Again, Carlos has to point at the "I'm a cop, you all are not" sign but they pay him no mind.

After hours of searching, investigating and having to pull everyone apart from their significant other at one point (TK and Carlos can simply NOT stay out of the master bedroom, for some reason); they eventually discover the killer.

After the police show up and arrest the killer, they decide to stay to finish dessert and decompress. However, when they get back to the dining room, Paul's chocolate pudding has been eaten.

They begin the investigation all over again.

[separatist-apologist]

We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | AO3

Only insane people wanted to be up before dawn in paradise. Nesta, who was still working out, was among them. 

And Azriel, who seemed to have an insatiable libido. He kept her up all night with his hands and tongue and cock and then, when Gwyn was wrung out and exhausted, he woke her again before dawn like she was a substitute for his morning run. It had been fun at first, but when Gwyn felt him shift beside her in the bed, her body coiled like a spring. 

Some small part of her felt a little raw from his attention. If Jonathon was obsessed with cutting her down with his endless opinions, then Azriel was uninterested in what she said at all. His attention was always laser-focused on her body, on drawing pleasure and in return, receiving it.

And for Gwyn, who was grumpy at five forty-two in the morning, she wanted to know what else he liked about her. Azriel slid down her body, settling between her legs. Gwyn recoiled her foot, catching him against his cheek.

“Fuck,” he whispered in the dark.

“Go masturbate,” Gwyn ordered, twisting on her side. There was a beat of silence, and then the sound of the sheets rustling as he joined her back in the bed.

“Did I do something—” “I don’t want to hear another word before ten am, Az,” she told him, relaxing as he wrapped strong arms around her body. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply.

“I wake up early,” he told her just as she’d begun to fall back asleep. 

“Not on vacation,” she mumbled.

“Especially then,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Gwyn squirmed away before he could tempt her. 

“Well, go for a run, then. Nesta does yoga on the beach—you should join her.”

Azriel grumbled something undecipherable, but a moment later he was pulling away and padding for the bathroom, just as she’d suggested he do. She heard the water from the shower hit the tile and Azriel pulling open the glass door. She snuggled back into the bed, curling around his pillow to drink in his scent. She’d always been a night owl and never, in her life, had she ever been a morning person. 

Gwyn didn’t hear Azriel leave, already fast asleep. When she woke to bright sunlight filtering through the dark curtains pulled over the sliding glass door, she found Azriel wandering back in the room with a tall cup of what she hoped was coffee in his hand.

“It’s eleven thirty,” he told her, hazel eyes watching her warily.

“Good,” she replied, sitting up to take the offering from him. “Did you go to the beach with Nesta?”

He nodded, running a hand through his salt-sprayed hair. His brown skin seemed to glow and his nose was slightly pink from the sun. Gwyn took a sip of coffee, wincing from the bitter, stale taste. Still—it was better than nothing and she needed it if she was ever going to get out of bed.

“What's on the itinerary for today?”

“Nothing today,” he said, perching on the edge of the bed. His face betrayed his obvious relief. “But Nesta is talking about taking a hike.”

Gwyn groaned. “What is the point of a resort with a swim-up bar if we’re always leaving it?”

“I was asking myself that very thing this morning when you kicked me out of bed.”

“I’m not trying to fuck you in the pool,” she grumbled, unable to meet his eye. Azriel only grinned, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I wish you would.” She let him see her very theatrical eye roll before reaching for her phone. There were, blessedly, no texts from Jonathon that morning. Only the one from the day before when she’d posted that dim photo of her and Azriel at the club, specifically to rile him up.

Call me. Now.

Which of course she hadn’t. Gwyn wondered if finally, Jonathan had taken the hint. They were done and she was moving on. Had moved on, even. She could still feel Azriel’s cock from the night before when she stood. She didn’t want to hash anything out with Jonathon when there was the promise of more blazing in Azriel’s hazel eyes. 

He plopped in a chair, long legs stretched in front of him while she busied herself with getting ready. She was only a little disappointed when he didn’t follow her into the shower. She supposed it was only fair, given he’d likely stood under the punishing spray that very morning and fucked his own hand while she’d slept peacefully. Gwyn skipped pleasuring herself in favor of getting in and out so she had enough time to dry her hair without being rushed.

She was plaiting it when she stepped back into their shared bedroom. Azriel was scowling at the phone half hidden in his large hand. He hadn’t noticed she was parading about utterly naked and that irked her, too.

“Something bothering you?”

He glanced up at her, eyes sliding back to his phone before her presence fully registered. Azriel’s head snapped back up, eyes wide as he drank her in.

“Yes,” he said immediately, so predictable she could have set her watch to him. “Jesus, Gwyn, get in the bed.”

“I want to eat before Nesta drags us on a humid, ten-mile hike—”

“Did it sound like a request?” he growled, rising to his feet. Her stomach clenched at his tone, at the dark heat radiating from his gaze. 

“Az,” she murmured.

“I’ll make sure you get breakfast,” he promised, though Gwyn couldn’t be sure if he meant actual food or his cock. She didn’t move as he paced towards her, calloused hands banding about her waist.

“I want waffles,” she warned him, arms wrapped around his neck.

“All the damn waffles you want,” he agreed, angling his head for a kiss. And oh, had she really kicked him out of bed that morning? Caffeinated and showered, Gwyn couldn’t for the life of her remember why. That was his magic, she supposed. Azriel was more than a distraction, was far more fascinating than what was hanging between his legs, and yet sometimes Gwyn felt so dizzy from wanting him that all she thought about was his body pressed against her own.

There would be no bed. Gwyn knew that with utter certainty the minute he pressed her roughly into the wall. Good. This was how Gwyn liked it—if they’d gotten in the bed he’d have been far too tempted to take his time, to drag things out for as long as humanly possible and Gwyn was far too enamored with him to ask him to stop. She liked to give just as good as she got, besides. 

He hoisted her up, one large hand spanning the cheek of her bare ass while she raked her fingers through his thick hair. His mouth was sweet and tasted distinctly of champagne—Gwyn would have bet anything Nesta’s early morning yoga involved mimosas. 

With his tongue in her mouth, licking and stroking as he ground his lower body against her own. Gwyn gave in to the pleasure he was offering. They’d be back home before she knew it where jobs and other responsibilities would keep them from each other. Fully awake, and practically burning with arousal, Gwyn wanted to keep him just like this. Selfishly, she liked the secret of him, that what they had was only between them. 

She reached for his cock, already hard in his shorts, and rubbed with the heel of her hand. 

The front door clicked open with a whirring beep. Azriel dropped her to the ground, eyes wild.

“Hello?” he called, quickly adjusting himself in his shorts. Flip flops clacked over the tile.

“Hey Az,” called Cassian. Gwyn was naked. She and Azriel exchanged a glance before he pressed his hand over her mouth and leaned out of the door frame that extended from their bedroom into the living room.

“How did you get in here?” Azriel asked, his voice appropriately calm. Gwyn closed her eyes, trying to get a grip on her pounding heart.

“I have a key,” was Cassian’s response. “Now a bad time? Nes wants to take a hike and I’m trying to pregame a little before we get out there but I can’t find Rhys.”

Azriel shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Not really.”

“C’mon. Do a shot with me.”

“You want to hike after doing shots?”

Gwyn pressed a kiss to Azriel’s palm. Tell him no, she hoped it said. Think with your dick, not your liver. It was an unfair choice, given what she knew about the man before her. Azriel loved to fuck almost as much as he loved to drink. Gwyn could see the war in his eyes before he shook his head no. Azriel’s cock won out, which meant she won out. She kissed him again. 

“I’m not getting drunk–and you shouldn’t either. No one will be able to carry your dehydrated ass back down the mountain.”

Cassian chuckled. “We’ll see. If you see Rhys, tell him I’m looking for him.”

It seemed too good to believe that Cassian would leave. Gwyn didn’t move until she heard the door to their room swing shut. Azriel swore softly. “Why the fuck does he have a key?” Azriel dropped his hand to walk to the door. While he pulled the latch, Gwyn arranged herself on the bed, drawing up one knee while parting the other so when he walked back in, he’d have an unparalleled view of her body.

“We need to get new keys,” Az said from the other room, his shoes slapping loudly against the tile. “If we leave—holy fucking Christ, Gwyneth.”

She blinked up at him innocently. “Leave?”

Azriel’s mouth had fallen open, his eyes so dark they might have been wholly black. The knot in his throat bobbed and then Azriel was pacing towards her. She squealed when his fingers dug rough against her skin, dragging her to the end of the bed. 

“Is this what you want?” he asked, thudding loudly to his knees. Gwyn pressed her toes to his throat, holding him back.

“I like you like this,” she admitted, drinking in the sight of him. Az’s skin gleamed in a shaft of golden light, casting his dark hair in hues of midnight blue. Some nights, after Az had thoroughly wrung her out, she’d trace the tattoos over his skin and ask him why he’d gotten each one. A few had interesting stories, though too often he chuckled and said, “Because I liked it.”

She was learning he made a lot of his decisions like that. On a whim, seemingly—based on a gut feeling and little more. Gwyn considered herself cautious. She was a planner, someone who thought her decisions through. In fact, the most spontaneous thing she’d ever done was kneeling between her legs, waiting for her to let him eat her out. 

“Pretty, pretty Gwyn,” Azriel's whispered, bringing her back. He kissed her inner thigh, gently removing her hold on his throat to spread her out beneath his large, rough hands. “This is why I can’t get anything done. In my head, I’m right back here.”

“Why are you still talking?”

A sultry smile spread over his face. “I fucking love when you’re mean.”

Gwyn lifted her hips in offer. “I love when you’re silent.”

Azriel grinned, so heartbreakingly lovely that Gwyn almost forgot what they were doing. Almost. Because when he lowered his head and finally put his mouth on her, Gwyn couldn’t remember anything but the decadent slide of his tongue and the push of one of his long fingers into her body. 

It didn’t take much convincing for Azriel to replace his mouth with the twitching cock between his legs. Gwyn, writhing against him, had begun tugging at his hair while whimpering, Az, please–and he knew exactly what that meant.

What she wanted.

“Is this what you need, baby?” he moaned, slotting himself against her soaking pussy. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” Gwyn pleaded, digging her nails into his shoulder. 

“Are you going to ask me nicely?” he replied, his voice far too breathless to be believable. Gwyn was all too happy to play along when the muscles in his back flexed beneath her open palm and his lips teased against her own.

“Please fuck me,” she whispered. 

Azriel thrust himself into her in one long, if not brutal stroke. Gwyn exhaled, stretched and full just as she liked to be. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he whispered hotly against her neck.

“Yes,” she whined, rolling her hips to match his pace. 

“My good girl needs to be fucked hard, doesn’t she?”

Gwyn tightened around him. “Yes.”

And he was fucking her hard. Gwyn knew she’d feel every stroke the entire way up whatever mountain Nesta intended for them to hike up. It would be well worth it, she decided as she drew up her legs, wrapping them tight around Azriel’s rib cage. 

“Your pussy is so fucking tight,” he breathed, slipping a hand between them to rub at her clit. “Are you always so wet for me, baby?” Gwyn couldn’t respond, given she was currently screaming her orgasm into his shoulder. Azriel shuddered, his body jerking and his breath ragged. He was never going to be loud like she was, which somehow made it hotter. There were no theatrics, no pretending. Azriel did exactly what he wanted in order to get both her and himself off.

“How badly do you want waffles?” 

Gwyn smiled, holding him tight even as his hips began to settle. “Not that badly.”

Azriel exhaled. “Good. I’m not done with you yet.”

AZRIEL:

You don’t know her like I do.

Of everything Jonathon had texted to Azriel, that sentence was the one that stood out. Azriel kept coming back to those words, replaying them over and over in his mind until they’d become a mantra. 

You don’t know her like I do. 

Azriel hadn’t responded. Tagged in one dimly lit photo with Gwyn perched in his lap had been enough to bring Jonathon straight to his DMs. What kind of confidence did a man like that need to DM Azriel? His profile was nothing but shirtless thirst traps and expensive cars. They couldn’t have been more different. Azriel couldn’t write, wasn’t academic and had a sense of style, and on the flip side, Jonathan had the kind of hands that looked as if they’d never seen a hard day's work in his life. 

And stil fucking Jonathon, with his ugly haircut and his even uglier ties, had a point. He didn’t know Gwyn half as well as Jonathon, though he desperately wanted to. Every time he slowed himself down enough to have a conversation with her, he found himself between her legs.

“Something on your mind?” Rhys panted, catching up with Azriel trailing at the very back of the hiking group. Despite all the shots, Cassian was dominating the trail with Lucien Vanserra. The pair had set a brutal pace that competitive Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie were trying desperately to match. Middling between them were Elain and Eris Vanserra, coated in a thick layer of sunscreen and debating the merits of some celebrity scandal Azriel had never heard of. Feyre and Mor were gossiping loudly about some bitch at work, leaving both Rhys and Az, lost in their own thoughts, to bring up the rear.

Azriel looked over at his best friend. If he was going to confide in anyone, it was always more likely to be Cassian…unless he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t. Rhys knew it, too. Azriel nodded his head towards Gwyn’s vanishing head of red hair.

“I had sex with Gwyn.”

“I knew it,” Rhys replied, earning an elbow to his gut.

“You didn’t know shit,” Azriel retorted hotly. 

Rhys wheezed, holding his side as he coughed. No one paid him any attention, which was lucky for him. The last thing he needed was word to spread. 

“Don’t tell Feyre.”

“I won’t,” Rhys managed, straightening himself out. “What’s the problem, then?”

“The problem is her bullshit ex,” Az grumbled, fishing his phone out of his pocket and pulling open the DM. He and Rhys stopped dead on the dirt path taking them up a brutally steep hill so

Rhys could read it and Azriel could wipe the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt. 

By the time he was done, Rhys’s thumbs were flying over the keyboard. “Don’t–”

“Too late,” Rhys said smugly, handing back his phone. “What a fucking loser. You don’t know her like I do–who talks like that?”

“You when you’re drunk,” Azriel grumbled, shielding his screen to read Rhys’s response.

Sounds like you don’t know her either if she dumped you. Get fucked. 

Azriel couldn’t help his snort of laughter. Rhys sure did have a way about him. Middle finger in the air, always doing whatever he wanted regardless of who he pissed off. Azriel had always admired that quality. 

“Do you like her?” Rhys asked, cutting through the bullshit as they resumed walking. Azriel ran a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “A lot.”

“Then who gives a fuck what that guy thinks. Or Nesa,” he added wryly, as if Rhys wasn’t also angling for Nesta’s approval when it came to Feyre.”

“I’m trying not to overshadow her wedding you fuck,” Azriel retorted, calves aching from all the exertion of the day. He’d spend the morning fucking Gwyn within an inch of her life, utterly obsessed with the breathy little moans coming from her lips. Azriel wished he could bottle that sound and listen to them when she was too tired for his attention, if only to recapture a little of her magic. 

“Fair,” Rhys agreed with a casual shrug that told Azriel he absolutely would have wrecked Nesta’s wedding if it meant a chance at Feyre. A good friend would have asked Rhys how that was going but Azriel was a best friend, and Feyre was the kind of forever girl Rhys was willing to hinge his whole life on. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. Rhys had never been shy. 

The two lapsed into an easy silence, catching up with Feyre and Mor by virtue of their long legs. Rhys slung a sweaty arm around Feyre’s neck, taunting her with thinly veiled innuendo while Azriel and Mor exchanged awkward small talk, the pair chaperoning the increasing barbs traded between Rhys and Feyre with nervous glances. 

Rhys fell back when they reached the overlook, letting Feyre stalk forward with Mor. “This will be next year,” Rhys said with far too much-undeserved confidence. Azriel would have laughed had Rhys not seemed so determined. “We won’t be fucking hiking–”

“Watch your mouth,” Nesta snapped from a wooden railing, a smile plastered on her face as she took a selfie with Cassian. Azriel plodded forward to look at the sweeping view. He could begrudgingly admit it was a nice panoramic look of the island they were staying on. He didn’t think it was worth a day of hiking, and when Rhys offered to pay for a private boat, everyone moved a lot quicker back down the trail.

Azriel was grateful for Rhys and his ridiculous money. The boat was more like a yacht, and by the time they made their way, dripping with sweat, to the docks, it was waiting with cold water and even colder beer. Azriel chugged a bottle of water before he took the shot of tequila from Cassian’s hand.

“You regret doing that sober now, don’t you?” Cassian joked, walking to the side of the ship as they cruised out into the open, cerulean water.  

“A little,” Azriel agreed, bracing his forearms against the rail.

“You gonna tell me what you were doing?” Cassian questioned, back facing the water and beer in hand. “Or who you were doing?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Don’t do this.”

“Can’t believe you’d tell Rhys before me.”

“He has a big fucking mouth.”

“He’s just excited to see you moving on. Who was the last one–”

“Don’t say her name,” Azriel ordered, swiping Cassian’s beer to chug it. He didn’t want to think about his exes. 

“Fine. Gwyn is cool as fuck, Az. I’m not surprised you like her. I’m surprised she likes you—okay alright Jesus Christ I’m getting married in a week.”Azriel lowered his fist, pointing instead at his friend. Cassian didn’t have the decency to look ashamed or apologetic. “If you fuck up our wedding photos, Nesta will murder you.”

“Just…don’t tell Nesta, alright. Let Gwyn do it.”

“Oh Nesta knows,” Cassian scoffed, gesturing for another drink from Rhys. “You didn’t think it was weird you two got put together? Your room has been sitting empty all week. Nesta is using it as a bridal suite.”

Azriel blinked. “Your wife set me up?”

“Soon-to-be-wife,” Cassian clarified as Rhys brought them both new drinks. “And yeah. You and Gwyn are her little science experiment. I won’t tell her what’s going on but she’s gonna figure it out.”

“Great,” Azriel grumbled. “That’s not fucking obnoxious at all.”

Though, if he was honest, Nesta had done him a favor in a way. What if he’d gotten the room he was supposed to? Halfway across the resort from Gwyn, who was on her own? If they’d parted ways after the airplane, catching each other on occasion. Time would have made it awkward and Azriel would have filed her away with every other one night stand he never wanted to think about again.

“She means well,” Cassian was saying, but the conversation was morphing as Rhys began discussing the bachelor party and how they’d fuck Cassian up one last time before he became Mr. Nesta Archeron. 

But Azriel’s eyes had wandered to Gwyn in a bright blue two-piece hugging every inch of her skin obscenely. Her hair was unbound and hanging in thick waves down her back. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she threw her head back to laugh at something Emerie had said. She was beautiful. 

The light bounced off her cheekbones, casting Gwyn in a golden glow that made her seem like a goddess. Azriel gripped the bottle of his drink, unable to drag his eyes off her. She didn’t notice him at all, staring like she was the sun, the moon, the very heavens the stars hung from. 

You don’t know her like I do.

Azriel swallowed.

Maybe he knew her as she was. Without the careful veneer she’d painted over herself so Jonathon would find her palatable, and without whatever mask she wore in her day to day life. Azriel knew Gwyn. 

Just Gwyn.

And he was starting to suspect he loved her. 

His Gwyn.

[beautifulhigh]

I've often wondered if the reason TK was so quick to trust Carlos is because he recognized the traits that Carlos shares with Owen? Like even if it was purely subconscious, I wonder if he recognized them. Considering that he'd just had his heart broken in the worst way not that long ago and I can see him being drawn to a man who shares the qualities his father has. And I can see Owen recognizing those qualities and trusting Carlos with his son. And then of course getting to know Carlos as the wonderful person he is and loving him for that. Obviously Owen and Carlos won't have exactly the same relationship as TK and Owen do but I love that there is such a connection between them and how Owen wants to support Carlos now that Gabriel is gone

There is a quip about women marrying their fathers...! But yeah, we do gravitate towards people who embody traits that are also in people we admire and love.

I think the only traits that TK was recognising in Carlos at the beginning were... well. Last night I slept in my stilettos. But then Carlos started to push for more and TK got to know Carlos beyond that. So yeah, I think he started to see things in Carlos that built the attraction beyond they shared in the Honky Tonk.

But not just ones Carlos shares with Owen.

The first thing we see Carlos try to do for TK is cook him dinner (sharing Dim Sum), then when TK opens up to him about his addiction he is met with acceptance and tough love (there is no one left to lie to). They go out and they have fun (it's called friends with benefits) and eventually a decision is made to commit to the other person (we make a pretty good team isn't a marriage proposal but...)

Carlos wants to live in the moment - compartmentalising his parents, Iris - but TK knows they can't do that. They work through it though, they come through stronger. They split up but come back together because their love is stronger than the problems they have faced, the fears that they hold. (Owen with his 9/11 ghosts, TK with his addiction, Carlos with his internalised homophobia and lack of self-worth.) He loves TK, so completely and without any kind of conditionality or terms attached to it (I don't know where all this love comes from).

And they have a perfect moment - the pre-wedding family dinner - before everything came... well... crashing down.

Carlos has Owen's strength and sense of duty. Gwyn's love and devotion, and both of their determination to make sure that TK is loved and safe and so fucking happy.

[wildbasil]

I’ve had a few messages asking me to elaborate on my comic and I gotta say, I’m super honoured that people are enjoying my silly little drawings and want to know more!!

In short, Gwyn, Edern and Blodeuwedd are figures from medieval Welsh literature and folklore. I just think they’re neat 😌🌸

Gwyn

Warrior, Arthurian knight, fairy king and supernatural huntsman, Gwyn is associated with lonely places, like moorlands and mountaintops. He’s evasive, untrustworthy and, especially in earlier texts, has a pretty bad temper. In Culhwch and Olwen, he abducts the object of his affection, Creiddylad, right before her marriage. When her fiancé raises an army against him, Gwyn goes off the deep end a bit, raining violence down on his opponents and taking a bunch of them prisoner. He even tortures one guy into insanity by forcing the guy to eat his own dad's heart. Gwyn’s really caught the imagination of writers throughout time, and at least he seems to have chilled out somewhat over the centuries. For some reason, I like imagining him as tired and sort of past it as a mischief-maker.

Edern/Yder/Ider

Edern is a spirited, confident youth and, like his brother, is a knight of King Arthur. He’s slightly better at it, though. Less violence, more chivalry. Apparently a bit of a hunk too since, in the Romance of Yder, Guinevere admits that Edern would be her first choice if she ever remarried (and it seems Edern was Guinevere’s lover in some traditions). He’s also impatient and cocky, frequently rushing ahead into danger, which normally ends badly for him. In Geraint and Enid, he appears as the ill-mannered Knight of the Sparrowhawk. Despite boasting the title of jousting champion for two years running, he ends up getting beaten badly by Geraint and, begging for mercy, is forced to admit that he’s behaving like a little shit. I like imagining him as a dumbass younger brother.

Blodeuwedd

Blodeuwedd is an owl now, but she used to be a woman. When Lleu Llaw Gyffes was cursed to never have a human wife, his meddling uncle Gwydion magicked him one out of flowers. This flower lady was named Blodeuwedd. When she had an affair and, with her lover, tried to kill Lleu, Gwydion punished her by turning her into an owl, a creature reviled by humans and birds alike. But Blodeuwedd never asked to be a woman and she never asked to be an owl; I think it’s impossible not to feel compassion for her. There’s no real connection between her and Gwyn, but I enjoy imagining them as weird friends. After all, Gwyn’s pretty disliked and feared too.

A (Very, Very Short) Reading List

Here are some links if you want to learn more!

Firstly, I recommend reading Sioned Davies’ translation of The Mabinogion, which is a collection of eleven medieval Welsh stories.

The Mabinogion translated by Sioned Davies (2007)

But there are some free translations online too:

The Mabinogion translated by Charlotte Guest (1877)

In particular, these are the stories I mentioned above:

Culhwch and Olwen

Geraint son of Erbin

Math son of Mathonwy

And here's one of my favourites (not from the Mabinogion): the story of St Collen and Gwyn ap Nudd.

Thanks for reading!!

[anewkindofme]

Did TK choose his nursery theme when he was big or did Owen choose the theme for his nursery? And what was his theme of his nursery in New York in both houses? Was it the same in Owen’s house like in Austin or different? Can you do a moodboard of them if possible please? Did Owen marry his second wife in this verse or does she not exist here? And is Tim apart of 126 or is he dead? And when did Tommy come back to the 126? thanks

TK chose his nursery theme when he was big. In New York, due to limited space, he just had a crib set up in his parents' bedroom. At Owen's, it was still monkey themed. Gwyn's had puppy bedding like this.

Owen married his second wife in this verse, but they divorced when TK was still a teenager so she's long out of the picture. Tim is still alive. Not really sure how to answer the Tommy question. She's just a part of the 126 paramedics. :)

Ask me for headcanons on characters from my fandom list!

[im-overstimulated-and-im-sad]

6, 12, 21 for Owen please

Hi 🥰🥰

6- What’s something you have in common with this character?

As much as I love Owen Strand that is a tough one because he has confidence and leadership that I myself do not possess, and my eating habits are more akin to raccoon fishing stuff out of a dumpster lol… but I will say I also know what it’s like to have your life changed by divorce (I was the kid not the person getting divorced) but that is a reason I love the Strand family so much in general.

12- What’s a headcanon you have for this character?

Basically my headcanon is that Owen was not absent for TK’s entire childhood after the divorce- I maintain there was a couple of rough years where he wasn’t as present as he should have been but after Gwyn kicked his ass and he made it to TK’s holiday concert then he made more of an effort- I’m not saying he never chose work over his kid but he was always in TK’s life and saw his son every week otherwise they wouldn’t be as close as they are because even in the pilot it’s clear how close they are and who much Owen knows his kid, which I don’t think they would have been if Owen was truly never there

21- if you’re a fic writer and have written for this character, what’s your favorite thing to do when you’re writing for this character? What’s something you don’t like?

In fact I have- (Will Ferrell Anchorman voice) you can say I’ve written about a quarter million words about this character 🥰🥰

And that is because Owen is very fun to write- I love writing dad Owen, writing Owen as a dad taking care of/frantically searching for/patching up his kid(s) is very fun 😍😍

Something I don’t like (but won’t deny happen- I just felt it didn’t happen to quite the extent others do) is because my long fic starts when TK is five and goes through the years of the divorce it was much less fun to write trying but coming up short Owen but I did- the petty his ex wife is seeing someone new Owen, falling asleep and his kid gets injured when he was supposed to be watching them Owen- not showing up for not just there holiday concert but missing other big things Owen- less fun to write but I definitely have!

Thank you for the ask 😍😍😍

[not-poignant]

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? with the understanding that no advice is universal of course

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

So I have a ton of stuff in the Pia on Writing tag that goes into a lot of detail but (with the caveat to ignore anything that doesn't work for you):

Learn to love your mistakes, because you must make a lot of them to get good at writing, so if you hold back because you're worried about your writing being bad, your shooting yourself in the foot. Your writing HAS to be bad for it to get better. Or: You need manure/shit (bad writing) to grow a really good garden (good writing). You want a good garden? Start shoveling the shit in, lol.

Clever marketing won't solve not putting the hours in to hone your craft.

In fanfiction, make sure it's fun. That doesn't mean it can't be hard sometimes, that you can't dread editing sometimes or drafting, that you can't have sadder times, but make sure that the overall net is always positive. Otherwise, take a break.

In professional writing, learn how to stop waiting for inspiration to strike, and learn to turn up on that dance floor on your own. Inspiration is a fickle dance partner, it often won't turn up unless you develop the discipline to turn up first.

Sometimes the writing you absolutely slog through that feels stilted and bad is some of your best writing. Just because it feels clunky when you're writing, doesn't mean it reads clunky. Just because it feels smooth when you're writing, doesn't mean it reads smooth. Your emotional state at the time of writing does not determine the quality of writing. Feeling good while you're writing =/= good writing. Likewise feeling bad while writing =/= bad writing.

You do not need a daily habit to be good at writing. Develop one if you want one, but personally I don't have one and I'm super happy that way. Take your weekends, have your leisure time, goddamn it, don't be a terrible boss to yourself.

Writing can be both lonely and exhausting - make some non-douchey writer friends (or artist or creative friends), and make sure you take breaks. Because writing is so cerebral, you'd be surprised how much physical activity can help with recovery, like stretching, gentle walks, workouts, etc.

Eat brain food. Snacking during writing is actually normal. I have nuts on hand for protein boosts, but I'll also eat chocolate or snack on quick energy boosts.

Stay hydrated.

Ignore any writing advice that goes 'you must do this in order to be a writer' or 'you have to do this one thing to be successful.' They're wrong. There is no one-true-path in writing with the exception that you do have to write in order to like...be a writer, imho.

You are going to want to compare yourself to others, but be very aware of who you're comparing yourself to. If you're new, why are you comparing yourself to someone with 10-20 years of experience? If you're disabled and fatigued, why are you comparing yourself to able-bodied writers? Stop competing with people outside of your metaphorical weight class, they're not your competition. I'm not going to tell you not to compare yourself to others, but be very careful of how you compare yourself to others. I've had new writers be like 'I could never do your wordcounts (so I'm not as good of a writer)' and like, no friend, neither could I 10 years ago. This is literally a decade of hard work and practice. Some skills really just come with time. (Also most writers are more successful after writing less words than me so y'know lol).

If you get shitty comments/critiques, remind yourself that if you wouldn't take personal advice from a complete stranger like this (and you wouldn't), then their shitty comments/critiques aren't worth your time either.

On AO3, the delete, block, moderate comments function and mute buttons are all free. USE THEM. Don't bother giving haters airtime on your fics. Elsewhere on the internet, as much as you can, try and ignore review sites. Like seriously.

Learn your writing style. Practice planning, plantsing and pantsing! Practice writing one thing or more than one thing at a time. Practice different genres. You might be surprised at what fits you as a person! Think of it like being a musician, you're not trying to be a band that already exists, you're trying to be your band and you're trying to find your sound.

You're probably very good at noticing your weaknesses, get good at noticing your strengths, and use those to shore up the places where you're still building skills.

Do writing prompts. I cannot stress this enough, but learn how to write settings. Describe the dialogue of a friend. Write a character dossier on a television character. Practice worldbuilding, practice character building.

Fill the well. Read broadly across many genres. Watch many different types of media. Listen to many audiobooks. The best way to not sound derivative of a particular order is to saturate yourself with inspiration from hundreds of different places.

That's probably enough! dklsjfdas

~

From this meme!

[redsixwing]

Give me the first five questions for Gwyn from Dark Souls.

From the Character Ask Game!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I like him a lot. His tragedy and mystery draw me in - we have so little explicit information about him, but it's possible to read so much more from the society he created, the reactions of the people around him, and the things he did to preserve his world.

I enjoy thinking about who he might have been, what his actual wants and goals were, and how he could've related to others.

His ending also suits him so very well.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

His character design and movement are SO on point. I was wondering how he could possibly stand up to the way DS1 builds him up, but the reality of him paid off so well.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

He's an awful parent.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

A dramatic piece of writing exploring his themes of loss and control (and loss of control) through the ages, and his unwillingness to bend to time.

extra points for contrasting him with the Witch of Izalith!

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

His boss theme.

It's thoughtful, heartbreaking, and iconic. It's immediately leapt to being one of my favorite pieces of video game music.

"Gwyn, Lord of Cinder" is what made me decide to finally try Dark Souls (hey coworker, you're not reading this, but thanks for sending me that song and making me want to know what it was about.)