#it's important to me that i be seen at the altar as a man but the archetypes of masculinity available to me are so... bland?

[toothyblowjob]

so i recently decided that, while i am still An Entire Man, my gender is complex in a way that i feel can only really be described as genderqueer. and i really like the way i explained it to my boyfriend today--"identifying as genderqueer is my way of acknowledging that there's no blueprint for what i am. i have to carve out a space for myself, because there's not one already."

[frostdayz]

More than enemies

Genre: Enemies to Lovers

aemond x reader (aemond uncle and y/n niece!!) (f! reader)

summary: Y/n is Rhaenyra's only daughter and at a young age she is betrothed to her uncle to keep the peace between the two families. Years pass without seeing each other, but when the day of the wedding arrives feelings are changed and emotions are spilled.

Note: Laptops on 3% so this was super rushed and tbh idk if i like it. Anyways this might be my last HOTD post for a while (I might be lying to myself)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

My wedding day. I stand before a mirror, the silver and red gown draped elegantly over my form, my mother's house colors blending with those of House Targaryen. My heart races, not with excitement, but with apprehension.

Aemond Targaryen. My betrothed. My enemy. The boy I had loathed for as long as I could remember. Our union was meant to be a symbol of peace between our families, a bridge over troubled waters. But to me, it had always felt like a shackle.

I had not seen Aemond in years, not since we were children. He had been sent away to train, and I had remained in Dragonstone, under my mother's watchful eye. Now, as I prepare to meet him again, I wonder if he has changed. If I have changed.

The door creaks open, and my mother enters, her face soft with maternal concern. "Are you ready, my daughter?" she asks, her voice gentle.

I nod, though my heart is anything but steady. "As ready as I'll ever be, Mother."

She takes my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "This union is important for the realm. But more than that, it is a chance for you to find happiness." She smiles at me.

Happiness. The word seems foreign in the context of my impending marriage to Aemond. But I nod again, forcing a smile. "I understand." I sigh.

With a final kiss on my forehead, she leads me to the great hall. The steps we leave behind sound out an echo that leads me to my new and unwanting future. The doors swing open, and I step inside, my eyes scanning the crowd until they land on him. Aemond. He stands tall, his silver hair gleaming, his eye patch adding an air of mystery. Our gazes lock, and for a moment, the world falls away.

He looks dare I say different? Stronger. More confident. And in his remaining eye, I see something I had not expected. Curiosity. Apprehension. Perhaps even a hint of regret. Regret for all the torment he gave me when I was a child. Or regret going through with this wedding and not running away while he had the chance?

Without my mind wanting to my feet start to walk me down the aisle, my mind races with memories of our childhood. The arguments, the insults, the constant competition. Does he still feel the same all these years later?

I reach the altar, and he takes my hand. His grip is firm, but not harsh. I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of the boy I had despised. Instead, I find a man who looks at me with wonder and uncertainty. Something I didn't expect to find, my eyes linger on his face confused with the feeling that's starting to stir inside my stomach.

The ceremony passes in a blur, words exchanged, vows made. And then, it is done. We are married. Bound together by duty and destiny.

Later, at the feast, I find a moment to escape the throng of well-wishers and slip into one of the halls in the keep, seeking comfort in the quiet lit hall. Moments later, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and find myself face-to-face with my now-new husband.

"May I join you?" he asks, his voice devoid of the arrogance I had once associated with him. He takes a few shy steps forward as if he is scared that I will reject him.

I give a small nod, and he steps beside me, his gaze fixed on me the whole time. For a while, we walk in silence, the tension between us palpable. Finally, he speaks.

"I never wanted this," he admits, his voice soft. "I never wanted to be bound by duty to someone who hated me." He stops his steps and looks away from my gaze.

"I never wanted it either," I reply, my own voice tinged with bitterness. "But here we are." I take a step forward so I am now standing right in front of him, he lifts his head to look at me, his expression earnest. "Perhaps... perhaps we were wrong about each other. Perhaps there is more to us than the hatred we clung to as children."

I look up at him towering over me, searching his face for any sign of deceit. But all I see is sincerity. "Do you really believe that?" My eyes softening

He nods, taking my hand in his and looking down fiddling with the rings on my hand. "I do. And I think... I know I would like to try. To see if we can be more than enemies."

My heart skips a beat at his words. Could it be possible? Could the years of animosity have been a mask for something deeper, something neither of us had been ready to acknowledge?

"I would like that too," I whisper, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. I take my hand out of his grasp and lift it up to graze his right cheek. I wouldn't in a million years think that I would be open to the thought of falling for the man I once hated.

He smiles and leans his head into my palm planting a soft kiss. "Then let us start anew, my wife. Let us find out who we truly are, together."

I feel a spark of hope. Perhaps this union, born of duty, could become something more. Something real. And for the first time, I see Aemond not as my enemy, but as my partner, my equal, and perhaps, one day, my love and the father of my future children.

[holdmytesseract]

Hello sweetie!!!

Good to know that you've opened requests because do I have A WONDERFUL request for YOU!

Okay okay, of course for me I'm going to request Loki so here goes...

Loki and Reader are arranged to marry and have never met before (either Reader is a princess or just a lady). The day of the wedding, reader suggests a first touch with her fiance - how could Frigga deny that? So they do it. Then, when they see each other at the altar, it's as if the world stops for them both.

I left it a bit vague so you can expand but I am so excited to see what you make of it! I love you so much and please do DM me if you need something 🫂🥰❤️

~LRM

Marrying a Stranger

Loki Odinson x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: You are arranged to marry Prince Loki of Asgard. Fear and pre-wedding nerves get the better of you and you can't help but ask Frigga for help. Of course is the good-hearted Queen more than willing to help out...

Warnings: arranged marriage? angst, fluff, sweet Loki

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: I actually wanted to post a new chapter of 'Through the Years' today, BUT the birthday of my wonderful friend @lady-rose-moon is definitely more important. 🥰 Therefore, I'd like to post this lil' oneshot as a gift. 😊 Again, happy (belated) birthday, friend!

Ps. I'm also incredibly sorry that his took me so long to write... I hope you like it nevertheless! I love you, too! 💚

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The day had arrived. The day you looked forward to in excitement and anticipation, but also with fear and nervousness. Your wedding. Your arranged wedding, to be precisely.

You were a princess. Only daughter of the king and queen of Vanaheim. And due to the royal blood pumping through your veins, you were not allowed to choose the man you'd marry. The man would be chosen for you. At first, you didn't approve of this and were literally appalled by the mere imagination of marrying a strange man you had never seen before, but your mother and all your tutors had quickly put you in your place.

There was no way out of this - and you had to accept that. It was your fate. Your destiny. The destined path for a princess.

This is not of importance, sweetheart. You don't have to meet your future husband, in order to marry him.

A few centuries ago, when you had reached womanhood, your marriage was arranged and announced within the kingdom. You were bespoken to king Odin's and queen Frigga's youngest son... Prince Loki of Asgard.

Throughout all the years you had never met your betrothed.

That is the man I shall marry?

That was what your mother had answered to your question if you could meet the prince you were going to marry.

So, the topic was off the table. You had been taught to obey your mother, so why would you dare to ever ask her again? The decision was made. No meant no. You only ever heard stories of your future husband... That he was quite special - and not in the good way. Most people spoke of his mischievous and cunning nature. Some even said villainous, brute and rebellious. To hear those words scared you.

You had dreamed of true love and romance. Of being courted and wooed. You dreamed of a sweet, kind man who would treat you like you deserved - and not of a brute who would treat you like his maid. You spent endless sleepless nights within your chambers, thinking about your future with Loki. What if he truly was just a harsh, mischievous scamp? What if your dreams were about to shatter?

And now, suddenly the moment had come...

But then you started to hear other stories of Loki Odinson as well. About how charming and witty he is. How gentlemanly and eloquent. And how utterly handsome he shall look.

You were torn. Torn by every story they told you - and the worst part was that you never got to find out what the truth was and which talk was cheap. At least not until the day you would marry him. It left you a mess.

You were standing in a huge chamber in the royal palace of Asgard. The room bustled with maids, who were preparing everything to get you ready for the wedding ceremony. You nervously fumbled your fingers; constantly tugging at the soft fabric of your wine red dress. Your mother had just left the room along with your father; leaving you and your troubled mind alone.

From the first encounter with Frigga, you could tell that she had a heart of gold. She was so kind and lovely. Perhaps the most good-hearted person you ever met. You got along with your future mother-in-law instantly. She had welcomed you with open arms. And right in that moment, you couldn't picture another way out.

You couldn't deny the anxiety any longer. It hit you full force; realisation dawning on you like the sun... I can't marry a man I never saw in my life.

So, you decided to order a maid to fetch the only person you hoped would be kind enough to help you. Queen Frigga. The Allmother. You and your family had arrived about a week ago and even in that week you never got to see Loki. Only the king and queen. Not the princes.

Frigga gently took your hands in hers and led you over to the bed; sitting down with you. "What is the matter, dear? The fear within you is stronger than your nervousity. I can feel it." You swallowed hard, "I- It's... It's just..." and had to take a deep breath. "I'm afraid of marrying a man I never saw in my life. I-I know that this is not of importance and probably even forbidden, but-" A radiant smile forming on the queen's lips interrupted you. You furrowed your brows; were confused. Even more when she started to chuckle.

Only a few moments passed, before the young maid returned to your chambers; following the queen.

"Y/N, my dear..." She immediately walked up to you. "You called for me?" You just nodded; anxious eyes meeting Frigga's beautiful blue ones. "I-I did. Could we... Could we talk in private?" "Of course!" She reassured you, then clapped her hands twice. "Would you all please leave and give us some privacy?" All the maids stopped in their tasks and immediately rushed to leave your chambers.

"My son requested the exact same. Barely before you called me to your chambers, I sat with Loki and spoke about this with him as well. I guess you are quite similar in that case." She chuckled again and reached for your hand again. You just stared at her; not quite believing what she just said. "I understand you, dear. I couldn't do such a thing either. Back when I had to wed my husband, I demanded to at least see him and share a few sentences with him beforehand as well. It helped me to adapt to the situation I was in. Therefore, I can't deny yours, neither my son's wish." Frigga stood up and offered you her arm. "Come on."

You swallowed hard; feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, as you approached the little pavilion.

You blinked; were utterly speechless. You knew Frigga would understand you, but that... That wasn't something you anticipated to happen. Still a bit stunned, you stood up and took her offer. She led you out of your chambers, down several hallways you had never seen before, until you were outside the palace and had reached a beautiful garden. She stopped, nodding towards a small pavilion quite a few meters away, which was surrounded by rose bushes and cherry trees.

"My son is waiting for you in the pavilion." Frigga let go of your arm and gave you a smile. "You have about an hour before the maids will return to get you both ready for the ceremony. Make sure to be back at your chambers by that time." With a wink and a soft pad on your arm, she turned around and left.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Carefully - almost shyly, you peeked around the corner.

A man was standing in the middle of the small pavilion, with his back towards you; hands clasped behind his lower back. You could see that he was wearing a green tunic and black leather boots. Gold accents highlighted his whole outfit.

He had long hair - as black as the feathers of a raven. It fell in soft curls over his shoulders. Your gaze climbed up and down his body. He was tall. Norns, he was so tall - and his hands were big. You could tell. They would swallow yours whole.

"H-Hello?" A dark, smooth and slightly high-pitched voice spoke. "A-Are... Are you Princess Y/N?" You could tell by his voice that he was nervous, too. Probably even afraid - just like you.

You didn't even notice how your mouth fell agape. Or how you made another small step forwards; totally enhanced by the God you saw standing in front of you.

Barely after you set one foot in front of the other, a small twig snapped underneath the weight of your body. You flinched - and the man quickly turned to face you; flinching the slightest bit as well. The gust which was created by Loki's quick spin was sent directly into your direction and no second later, his scent hit you; invaded your nostrils... Leather, something dark and musky, charred wood and a slight hint of mint and something fruity. It smelled so rich, so divine, but also so addictive and cosy. You almost fainted.

You needed a moment to get yourself together. "Y-Yes, I-" Your words faded into a gasp as your eyes met his for the first time ever. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Blue like water and as deep as the oceans. They held so many emotions. Nervousity and fear, but also curiosity and excitement. But above all kindness - the same kindness which sparkled within his mother's eyes.

Loki smiled and took a few cautious steps towards you. "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, my princess." He gathered a bit of his bravery and hesitatingly reached for your hand, taking it gently in his. With a soft bow, he bestowed a small kiss upon your knuckles; soft, smooth lips brushing against your cold skin. A shudder rippled through you.

"The- The pleasure is a-all mine, my prince." You more or less stammered out, now utterly distracted by his chiselled facial features. High cheekbones, sharp jawline and a perfectly shaped nose. Norns, you thought. He looks like carved out of marble.

Loki gave you a smile. "Thank you for agreeing to this little... secret meeting. I-I just had to see you before the ceremony, I-" You gave his hand - which still enveloped yours a soft squeeze. "I know. I felt the same way." A nervous chuckle left his lips, followed by an even bigger smile. "That makes this situation so much easier..." You reciprocated his smile. "Indeed, my prince."

You took a seat on the small, cosy bench and decided to use the time you had left to talk and get to know each other at least a little bit, before you'd become husband and wife. It was exactly what you - and Loki needed. But especially, it calmed your fears of marrying a brute, despiteful man. They had been wrong... Oh so wrong. Loki was not like that. He was like you hoped he'd be. Kind, gentlemanly, sweet - and utterly romantic. His heart may be battered and bruised, but you could feel that this man would do everything to be a good, loving husband for you.

The hour flew by way too fast; within the blink of an eye and soon it was time to part ways - for now.

"Thank you, my pri-" "Loki. Please... It's Loki for you." That made you blush even more - if that was even possible. "Thank you, Loki." You smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to be wed to such a handsome, polite and sweet man either."

"Again... Thank you for agreeing to this." Loki said; voice soft. You shook your head. "No need to thank me. I wanted this, too, you know..."

Silence settled over the both of you, until he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "I can't believe I'm marrying such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in barely a few hours." You blushed in the darkest shades of crimson at his words; suppressing a girlish giggle to slip past your lips.

That caused Loki to blush.

A nervous chuckle bubbled from deep within his chest. "Thank you-" "Y/N." You interrupted him. "Y/N." The way he rolled his name off your tongue almost send you into another dimension - you were sure of it.

His words hit you straight into your heart. You could swear it was aflame by now, burning for this man you knew so little, but were going to wed in a few hours.

"Are you still nervous?" Loki asked then; eyes soft. You nodded. "Y-Yes, I- I'm afraid it's going to get worse..." You giggled nervously; desperately trying to play it cool, but failing.

He took your hand in his again; gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "I know this is normal. I-I am nervous, too, but... Please don't worry. You are not alone in this. I'll be there - and I won't ever let go of you."

You took deep breaths; smiling brightly. Now you could say that you were really looking forward towards your wedding. For the first time in centuries.

"T-Thank you. That is really reassuring to know. I-I won't let go either." Loki smiled, "That's good to know, my darling." and leaned in for a delicate, small peck on your lips. It was gentle and barely lasting - but it felt so right. So good.

Before you were able to answer something, his hand slipped from yours as he was passing you by; stepping out of the pavilion and out of your sight.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Your mother said with tears in her eyes. She placed her pointer finger underneath your chin. "It's time for you to enter the next chapter of your life. A lot is going to change, I know - but your whole life was spent preparing you for exactly that moment. You're a strong woman, Y/N. Never doubt that. And Loki is going to be a wonderful husband. He's the perfect match."

By now, you had to fight off the tears as well.

Your mother leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, just like your father. I love you." You smiled; swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat. "Thank you, mama. I love you, too." She gave you a loving, motherly smile and left to sit with the other wedding attendants.

You took a deep breath and with the sounds of the fanfare, you stepped through the golden doors and slowly walked down the red carpet towards Loki - who stood at the altar; dressed in his ceremonial armour, waiting for your arrival.

All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for your prince.

When his eyes landed on you, they widened immediately; his mouth falling agape. He watched how your wedding dress swayed softly with each step you took.

She looks absolutely beautiful, he thought; feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

It was all you needed in that moment.

You walked slowly, gracefully - like you've been taught. It felt like an eternity, until you finally reached him.

Loki immediately stretched out his hands for you to lay yours in his - and you did. The moment you touched, it felt like you could finally breathe normal again. His skin was so soft and warm; giving you the feeling of warmth and comfort. For you, his touch was a safe haven. He was anchoring you; preventing you to get lost in the sea of no-man's-land.

You looked up. His endless blue eyes met yours for the second time - and time seems to stand still around you. In that moment, it was only you and him.

You smiled and finally weren’t afraid anymore of the future. Not if it involved the man right in front of you.

[john-silvers]

      My father was a tailor in Leeds, as was his father and his father’s father. Time was if a man on the Avondale Road asked where he might find the finest clothes in northern England, he was pointed toward the shop of a man named Rackham. Then the men who sell wool decide they’d prefer not to compete with the men who imported fine cotton, and as the men who sell wool have the ears of the men who make laws, an embargo is enacted to increase profits and calico disappears.       And my father’s business that he inherited from his father and his father’s father begins to wither and die. And my father suffers the compound shame of financial ruin seen through the eyes of his son and descended into drink. I’d sit beside him as a boy at the Sunday service as he shouted at the pastor, at the altar - at anyone who’d listen, really - at the injustice of it all. And I’d put my arm over his shoulder as the insults began, help carry him out of the church. God the insults. At his funeral, our neighbors were kind enough to whisper them rather than call them out loud.       So, I set out to work, determined to rebuild what had been taken away. I was 13 years old, but I was determined...until a man arrived at my door claiming to hold debts belonging to my father, debts accumulated as my father drank, debts he claimed that now belonged to me, debts I could not possibly have hoped to repay, debts over which this man would have seen me imprisoned - imprisoned in a place where the debts would have been discharged only through hard labor, hard labor with no wages, working at - wait for it - the production of textiles.       “You people, incapable of accepting the world as it is” says the man to whom the world handed everything. If no Anne, if no rescue, if this is defeat for me, then know this: you and I were neck and neck in this race right till the end, but, Jesus, did I make up a lot of ground to catch you.

[kjwaikiki]

House of the Dragon only showed them for 5 minutes but Cregan and Jace have there hooks in me. Here is a fic idea:

Jace and Cregan dated for a while either in college or just out of college. Jace was away from his family at the time and he didn’t tell anyone about Cregan. Jace wasn’t ashamed but it felt nice to have something that was solely for himself.

They were in love. Approaching the altar and getting married kind of in love but something happened that ended their relationship. Maybe there was a tragedy on Jace’s side of the family that compelled him home or maybe it was Cregan’s side of the family that needed him. The point is that they were torn apart but still really love each other.

Jace goes back home and is around his family. I imagine Jace is someone who suppresses a lot of his emotions. He feels pressure to be perfect so he puts on a facade and struggles to get through the day. Part of this is that Jace doesn’t really share about his life with anyone, there is just this huge gap for a couple years where all the family got were sporadic phone calls and gifts on important holidays.

The family is worried about Jace. They see him struggling but he won’t let anyone in so they don’t know how to help him. In the midsts of this Cregan comes back into Jace’s life.

I imagine Cregan is trying to do a deal with the Targaryen company or the family hired him for something. The culmination is that Cregan sees Jace while with the family and neither man takes it well. Jace is visibly distraught which freaks the family out because if they can see it on his face it must be bad. Cregan is not any better. Cregan is trying to keep a stoic face on but is not succeeding. He keeps looking at Jace and making aborted moves to comfort him.

The meeting eventually ends when Jace can no longer stand it and runs out of the room. For a split second Cregan’s mask falls completely and he looks devastated. The meeting wraps up but all the family agrees to interrogate Jace together after which does not go well.

Jace is not having a good time. He still loves Cregan, still wants a life with Cregan, but still sees no way over the obstacles of their obligations to their families and trying to fit their lives together in a way that ensures that no one is giving something up. Jace is unsuccessfully trying to stave off a breakdown when the family converges on him. All Jace’s loved ones have the best intentions but their questions about Cregan are too much too soon and Jace starts crying and hyperventilating.

No one knows how to help him and everyone freaks out. Everyone is trying to get Jace to breathe or tell them how to help him. Jace is finally able to choke out that he wants Cregan. Someone calls Cregan and puts him on the phone with Jace. Cregan is able to talk Jace down off of his panic attack.

After the phone call the family is still there but are noticeably shyer about asking Jace anything. Jace sees them squirming keeping their questions in and signs. He grabs him laptop and a thumb drive. On said thumb drive is all the pictures and videos he and Cregan took together when they are dating. There are shots of Cregan when he is just waking up, close ups of hands, and cutesy photos where one of them is kissing/cuddling/leaning on the other. There are videos of them making breakfast together, making silly faces at each other, and just in general being a couple that is clearly in love.

The family is in shock after Jace shows them everything and explains how he and Cregan were seriously dating for a while. More than not knowing about the relationship the family hasn’t seen Jace that carefree and happy in a while. In fact none of them think they have ever seen Jace that happy, in all the videos and photos he practically glowed.

I’m not entirely sure what comes next. I think Jace and the rest of the family have some issues to work out. Mainly I think they need to realize that while Jace is good at helping his mother and managing a company he isn’t necessarily happy doing it. I think Jace was told by the adults from a young age that he would inherit the company after his mom. I don’t think anyone did this maliciously but I think everyone assumed that Jace would follow in Rhaenyra’s path without ever asking him what he wanted.

I think a huge part of this fic will be Jace figuring out that he can have wants if his own and that it isn’t selfish to pursue them. I think something that needs to be touched on is that Jace’s relationship with Cregan was something that he did and had for himself completely outside of the family. I think the major catalyst for Jace and Cregan’s relationship was the fact that Jace had to pick between his relationship with Cregan and what he viewed as his duty to his family.

A huge part of the fic should be the family coming to realize that Cregan is the love of Jace’s life and that while the relationship might be ended Jace’s feelings are still there and will likely always be there. I don’t think Jace would ever doubt this, I think he always knew that Cregan was it even as the relationship ended and that he would probably never want anyone else.

The reason the relationship ended wasn’t a lack of love but life getting in the way. Jace had been told for so long that he would be this one thing and he always felt this massive ball of expectations. Jace always felt he needed to act and be a certain way, to fulfill a role for his family. With Cregan Jace was able to really find out who he was and explore what he wanted.

Jace discovered that he really likes wearing Cregan’s shirts that are way too big for him, that he would rather spend the day cuddling on the sofa than with a group of people, that he actually really likes corny romance books, does not like shellfish, would rather drink beer than wine, and that he has never felt more alive and happy than when he is with Cregan. But when his family needed him it was easier to leave than to stay.

Jace has spent so many years acting a certain way and doing whatever he needed to do to help his family that when he realized that if it came to a choice between Cregan and his duty to his family he wanted to choose Cregan, he got scared. He worked so hard to be what everyone else needed him to be. He was the perfect son, the reliable brother, the good kid but with Cregan he didn’t have to be any of that. Jace had been shoving down his own wants for so long that when the choice came it was easier, simpler to just do what he had always done and do what everyone else needed him to do.

I think on some level Cregan understood but I do think it made him incredibly sad. One thing I want to make clear is that Jace never denied he loved Cregan. He never saw their relationship as less than something else. Jace was scared and guilty and conflicted. He fell back into old habits and in a way started to just go through the motions as he had programmed himself to.

I think in the midst of all these issues and histories being dug up there are a lot of fights and tears between everyone. Between Jace and Cregan in particular there is a lot of tension, kissing, and maybe even some confrontations and yelling. This is a drawn out smack down tragic romance full of heat and gut wrenching emotion and it should be evident whenever Jace and Cregan lock eyes.

I think in the end the family realizes they messed up and Cregan and Jace get back together. I think there should be a big dramatic scene between Jace and Cregan with questions, kisses, crying, and breakdowns. In the end Jace chooses Cregan and steps back from the role he forced himself to fill within the family.

Cregan and Jace ride off into the sunset to live a happy life together after a tragic, emotional journey. They get a happy ending.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - LDPDL: Burning Questions

I was reading this Variety article, and they mentioned something that made me think of fan critiques of Louis' opaque motivations in the finale, and the fun laughs we've shared over how he's so unbothered by vamp nonsense that he never seems to ask important questions.

I'm drafting a separate post specifically about "Vampire Grace," but I wanted to focus here on only one point in particular:

PAUL.

We always talk about whether Louis chose Lestat over Claudia; "you take him with you, in HERE!" But I haven't seen talk about how Louis chose Lestat over Paul, and how that factors into Lou's habit of not asking HELLA important questions that could've saved Loustat DECADES of resentment.

Paul's suicide "opened the series," setting this whole thing in motion. Florence blames Louis for his death, making Lou feel like a failure.

--the first time we see Louis outright say to someone's face "I love you," it's mere seconds b4 Paul jumps off a roof. (The only other person we see him say it to is Armand, right after saying they're not companions. 💀)

Paul's memory is wrapped up in Louis' love of Lestat, cuz until Les showed up, Paul had been Lou's one and only companion--the sole person he could TALK to. As a closeted gay man, Lou was desperate for MALE companionship: understanding, acceptance & love.

Sure, he had Grace & Lily (& later Claudia)--all WOMEN--but:

his daddy's dead, and who knows what their deal was, but it couldn't be worse than effing Florence. So there's a lingering want of a father-figure; someone older/wiser who could teach & guide Lou when he was feeling "lost...in a dark way" (*cough* Armand *cough*)

a father or brother is still not the companion Louis REALLY wants/needs, so ofc there's things Lou can't tell Paul, or have with him. Les's an upgraded Paul-- a HUSBAND, not a SIBLING (*cough* Claudia *cough*).

(deep down) Lou was jealous of how candid & honest Paul was; regardless that Paul's lack of a filter was a side effect of his mental illness & religious fanaticism (cuz vampirism's an allegory for sexuality--and even in gay mecca Paris & SanFran Lou was still tryna "find himself" as the Zodiac Killer *cough Daniel *cough*)

Paul's dying wish was for Loustat to never be together

and Lou felt he'd betrayed Paul; that he'd lied/hadn't kept his word

folding like a leaf rather than saying NO, or killing himself like he'd implied (suicide by vampire instead of cane-sword/alcohol poisoning)

(and Queen Claudia called Lestat the "Father of Lies" (aka The Devil), and she ain't never lie a day in her life, either)

So the Catholic guilt was extra strong, cuz Saint Paul was right about Les; but Lou chose Les anyway--in the church, on the altar--after Paul died trusting that Lou WOULDN'T take him back.

Instead, we get this boatload of excuses from Louis about the "vampire bond," when the only bond that matters is LOVE. But this is the crux of Louis' personality/problems, and why the interview took so long for him to attempt either the 1st or 2nd time around. Cuz Louis is a hypocritical coward stuffed to gills with self-loathing & GUILT. He runs away from the truth, he runs away from his issues, and he hides from himself and everyone around him.

So OF COURSE Louis doesn't ask important questions. It's not that he doesn't care--it's that HE'S SCARED of asking, and terrified of what the answer is. So it takes him forever to even BEGIN addressing the elephants in the room.

Louis ALWAYS suspected. But he was:

Scared of the answer/truth

Scared that Les would LIE

Scared he'd forgive Les regardless

Paul died in 1911. It had been 26 YEARS until Lou finally piped up in 1937 (the end of Les's Grovel Era). But this was the PERFECT chance to call Les' bluff & get some honest answers out of him for once, cuz:

If Les (unapologetically) caused Paul's death, he can just stay gone

It's in Les' best interest to tell the truth regardless, cuz he's been desperately tryna get back in Lou's (& Claudia's) good graces for 6 years, and being sincere will earn him more cookies (he'd also be banking on Lou forgiving him regardless, cuz he's been missing Les so bad, even after being beat into the next decade & dropped a billion miles in the air)

If Les IS lying, how would they even frikkin know if they can't read his mind? Lou just wants to see what Les will say

(In 2x6 he waited to ask Madeleine if she only saw Claudia as a replacement for her dead sister--a question he should've asked BEFORE he Turned her, but... 🤷 Moot.)

So in the finale, there's 2 painful truths Lou has to contend with:

WHY is he doing the 2nd interview?

WHO saved him during the Trial?

It takes Louis 77 YEARS to reclaim the "pieces of myself" he'd lost/forgotten. He ALWAYS knew things weren't adding up with Armand. He KNEW there were things missing. Even in SanFran, BEFORE the mind-wipe, he was already losing his mind/memories--PTSD from all the awful things he'd been through.

Even book!Louis knew about Claudia's diaries for a decade b4 he finally got the courage to ask the Talamasca if he could read them & speak to her ghost.

Although Lou's naive AF, he's not an idiot--he HAD A HUNCH that Armand knew more than he was letting on, which is precisely why he kept ignoring Armand every time he asked to stop the interview.

However, for once, Lou actually wastes VERY little time with this one:

As soon as he learns the truth about "Banishment," he divorces Armand, and runs back to NOLA to find Lestat. Memory is a monster Lou'd been running scared from all this time. He's tired of running away, wasting so much time, wasting the gift, when he could be actively tryna solve his problems to make life bearable/better. The hellish prison he'd lived in was by his own design--only he could chose to stand up, take control of his life; and finally ask the burning questions. "Truth and reconciliation."

Lou could finally make peace with the memory of the two people he'd been avoiding for so long; whom he felt he'd let down the most:

For once Lou chooses to be "companion enough for myself," and live with/for himself, not relying other people to save/fix/determine his life for him anymore. That's really the only way he'll be able to be with Les in a healthier, guilt-free relationship in the future.

[daddypriceugh]

Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

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

I saw that you guys want fluff so I'm giving you fluff :)

I will maybe upload another fic today, if I don't fall asleep (it's 10:30 pm here)

Anyway enjoy this one <3

Tw: nothing just fluff

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

Today is the day you've never thought would come. It just always seemed unreal. But here you are, standing in your wedding dress in front of the church door waiting for the music to announce your entrance.

Your nerves are playing wild and your body feels on fire. What if you trip? What if he changes his mind? What if-

"Are you alright?"

A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look to your left to see John Price standing next to you, with a worried look on his face.

" Yeah I'm fine. Just nervous"

He nods in understanding and takes your hands in his.

"Trust me it's gonna be okay. Hell don't worry about him changing his mind, I've never seen someone that wipped for a girl before"  he says while laughing at the last part.

A chuckle escapes your throat, which then tightens again when you heard the music start playing.

"Ok ok no panic (Y/N)" you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You take a deep breath and nod at John, giving your ok to enter the church. He smiles at you and links his arm with yours.

You tear up at the gesture, knowing that your father would have loved to walk you down the aisle.

John had become like a father figure to you -even though he's not that much older- and you're more than grateful that he said yes to walking you into your new chapter of life.

The heavy doors open and you can see the guests standing up at the sound, all of them turning their heads to see the bride.

You take one step after another, gripping John's hand in yours. Looking around you see familiar faces like your mother and some aunts, but the most important person to you was standing at the altar.

Turning your head you lock eyes with him. Time seems to slow down as you take i the sight of him. Damn does he looks handsome. His mohawk was freshly cut and he wore a new black suit with a red tie.

It may look like a unoriginal outfit, but to you it is perfect.

A smiles forms on your face when you stand directly in front of him. John hands him your hand over and shoots a threatening look. It was the "if you ever hurt her I will personally kill you" look.

Before leaving to go to Johnny's man in honor side to stand next to Gaz and Ghost, he gives you a small kiss on your forehead, whispering "I'm proud of you" against it.

Now it was just Johnny and you. Two people that love each other more than words can describe.

The pastor says the usual things but you hear nothing. You just stare into your soon-to-be-husbands eyes, and you could swear to see tears swelling in them.

The pastor speaks up.

"It is now time for the vows"

You take a deep breath and start talking:

"Johnny, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. It was the way you introduced yourself, the way you saved my ass on many missions, it was the way you held me after my father died and it were the many things in-between. You made and still make my life perfect. I finally found a reason to life and I'm glad I get to spend the time with you. You are perfect in any way imaginable. I love you dearly and I will stay by your side in good and bad times"

Your voice cracks midway, tears streaming down your face. But it seems that your fiancé feels the same way. He doesn't hide his emotions anymore embraces the tears.

It was no his turn and he grabs your right hand and puts it on his heart.

"Dearie, you absolutely make me the happiest man alive. I'm blessed to wake up with you next to me evey day. I can't think of something better anymore. I love the way you laugh at all my stupid jokes that I tell the Lieutenant. It seems that his skull is too thick to understand our humour"

Laughter goes through the room, even Simon chuckles at the mentioning of his name.

"I love everything about you and that will never stop. Even after my death. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

The pastor raises his hands and announces the moments you have been waiting for.

"I now announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride"

Not waiting a second longer, Johnny pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. Applause rings through the crowd and people cheer.

The kiss doesn't last long but it's perfect. Johnny then suddenly lifts you up and carries you towards the exit, and your friends and family follow.

Time skip:

The evening goes smooth. People are laughing and having fun. You are currently sitting on your husbands lap after having danced to two songs.

Head laying on his shoulder while you're admiring him, tracing every scar with your thumb.

"And how does it feel to be married"

"Feels incredible my darlin'. Absolutely the best feeling ever" You hum in response looking up to him. He catches your stare and smiles.

"I hope you won't grow tired of me Mr. Mactavish"

"I would never in my life. I promise you that Mrs. Mactavish"

You laugh and move you face to his to meet in a kiss. This time it's more passionate, full of love and excitement for what the future holds.

[pacthesis]

our vietnamese tea ceremony

some may or may not know i just got engaged to a weird guy i met in college that (to put it lightly) i wasn’t too fond of but after like 2 years of snubbing him he somehow won my heart i guess

i scribbled a comic about it cause whenever people ask how i met him they sometimes get invested haha

some people also may have seen him on america’s got talent or cbs news or jimmy fallon or on tiktok doing his pizza man shenanigans lol

people often ask if he pulled me with his dough skills and i have to clarify i didn’t even know about the dough spinning hobby until after we started dating and he didn’t do the tv/media appearances until like 6 years into our relationship 🤣

my parents were both boat refugees from vietnam (they fled during the war when they were teenagers and met as adults) and i’m american- but we’re not really that “traditional” i guess

i think many viet people don’t get married or commit without having a tea ceremony haha

a hetero buddy asked who were my bridesmaids and when i told him i don’t have any he asked why and i just said “i like my friends” 🤣 (my childhood friends were there as guests though!)

i also didn’t want/ask pizza man’s family to bring the customary gifts cause i didn’t wanna cramp my style

basically the purpose of this event was for people to witness us getting engaged and be an opportunity for our families to meet one another!

5/23/2015 is when we started dating

for our first anniversary i got our initials and anniversary date stamped onto a penny and pizza man still carries it around 🥺

so 8 years later we got engaged on 8/5/2023

8 for august (8 years later)

5th of august (5 for the month we began dating)

year of 2023 (23 for the day we began dating)

i think people often go to a fortune teller or someone who knows what they’re doing to schedule important dates using the stars and other factors but my grandpa doesn’t believe in that and the rest of us aren’t really superstitious

we wore áo dài- it’s a vietnamese ensemble consisting of a tunic with a long front and back panel that is worn over pants

áo means “shirt/clothes” and dài means "long"

a lot of the time the bride wears red and the groom wears blue i guess but i wanted my outfit to look bridal when i imagine an american bride or a vietnamese bride!

i also wanted to wear a gold khăn đóng headpiece and to incorporate pearls to resemble what my mom wore when she got engaged to my dad

sunflowers are also my fav

(after we started dating i thought pizza man was tall and sunny like a sunflower haha 😭)

my makeshift shoebox altar- or as i like to call it: my “spirit pager” 😤

the double happiness symbol is two copies of the chinese character 喜 (xǐ) which means joy/happiness and red symbolizes luck for the couple

my mom asked if we should put up pictures of our deceased and i was like i don’t wanna make pizza man’s parents go out of their way to bring photos 😭

i think we were supposed to ask our ancestors for permission to get engaged or married or whatever but since my mom raised me to believe my life is mine to live i just announced it to em

as far as i know it’s not really a buddhist thing- ancestor worship is more of a vietnamese thing apparently

my mom said vietnam is a country with a lot of war and death in its history- so imo it makes sense how they incorporate the dead into their culture and traditions

after introducing each of our family members and friends- we lit a couple of incense to (casually) announce the news to our deceased grandparents and relatives

apparently burning incense is an invitation to ancestral spirits and to deliver wishes to predecessors

smoke from the burning incense guides people to safety or safe passing when they die- it also guides em back home on days like these

the spirit(s) depart when all of the incense has burned

next month is my grandma’s "deathiversary” (giỗ) so we’ll be paging her again soon

we used a tea set that was used to celebrate my 1st birthday to pour and serve (my pick) of vanilla caramel black tea to my grandpa and our parents

pizza man’s mom doesn’t like tea so i was happy i picked something she did enjoy!

but when my mom brought her family to america from vietnam- she asked them if they could bring a tea set specifically for me

my mom said it’s meant to be used to celebrate any of my special occasions

then me and pizza man said some nice words to each other and exchanged rings

my ring was pizza man’s grandma’s- his grandpa initially proposed with a smaller diamond but after he saved up enough he got her this bigger one

i don’t listen to any comments that suggest or imply this carbon rock is not humongous 🤣

pizza man paid to get it resized and to repair its prongs (it was well worn by grandma mercedes 🥺)

also found out my ring size is 3.25 (US) haha 😭

he also decided to get his grandpa’s ring resized and to wear it too!

my mom put this necklace on me- she says it reads “happiness” (i can’t confirm lol) but she received it from her mother-in-law when she got engaged to my dad

my mom was too scared to wear it after their tea ceremony cause it’s 24 karat gold and she didn't wanna wreck it

she said 24 karat gold hasn't been combined with other metals so it’s soft

i guess couples at viet tea ceremonies often get 24 karat jewelry- the idea is they can quickly sell it/melt it down for hard times

my mom also passed down her favorite jade bracelet and my grandma’s favorite diamond earrings to me 🥺

and on my 1st birthday my mom got a special ring made to celebrate my birth- she put it on a chain so the person i marry can wear it close to their heart

my mom also got a special ring necklace made to celebrate my sibling’s birth and gave it to their fiancée during their tea ceremony

it’s just the two of us so no more shiny token trophies up for grabs! 😤

i laughed when pizza man had to squat down so low so my mom could put the necklace on him 

after the ceremony i asked him if he wanted me to help him take it off (my sibling's fiancée keeps theirs in a safe cause she’s too scared to wear it daily) but pizza man was like "no i like it 😄" and wore it to sleep and showered with it and hasn’t taken it off since 😭🤣

at the end of the ceremony we lit the candles on the altar to represent the union of our families!

then we ate lots of food haha

my parents both cooked! egg rolls, fried rice, lo mein, bột chiên (fried taro rice cake)

my mom was excited because she knew many of our guests weren’t very familiar with vietnamese food and wanted to share that with them 🥺

and my dad was just so excited for me and pizza man and had so much fun getting the supplies and decorations 😭

my aunt and uncle and sister-in-law brought vịt quay (peking duck), heo quay (roast pork), gỏi tôm (shrimp salad), bánh hỏi (rice vermicelli), xôi gấc (sweet red sticky rice topped with coconut, peanuts and salt)

and pizza man’s mom and family brought lots of desserts

we have always been so amazed with how good their sweets taste and look! 🥺

we also got an ice cream cake

i wasn’t thinking and asked em to write “nicholas and amy lễ đính hôn” and they called me and were like wtf is this and i was like oh no it’s ok haha don’t worry about it! 😭🤣

we had some photos displayed but my sibling took lots of nice pictures of the whole thing!

i was happy i actually got the chance to spend time with and talk to everyone who came!

it went so well and we had so much fun that we’re thinking of doing something similar for our wedding- probably a backyard wedding haha

i was telling pizza man apparently some tea ceremonies have the first half take place at the bride’s home and then the later half is at the groom’s home 🤔

anyway reminder that leftover egg rolls can be reheated in the toaster

[sidekick-hero]

I still keep hoping (someday, I’ll be falling without caution)

(steddie | teen | 2.3k | AO3 | @steddie-week | fluff and/or angst)

Eddie has always been a romantic, but he never believed in love at first sight. Still doesn't, but his heart stutters in his chest and the world around him grows distant and quiet. He smiles softly at the man, hoping his thoughts don't show on his face. Thinks they might, because the smile he gets in return is dazed, wondrous. Eddie wonders how he's not used to people fawning over him, throwing themselves at his feet, vying for his attention. Before he can do anything stupid like walk over to the man and catch his perfect lips in a devouring kiss, Gareth taps him on the shoulder. "You okay, man?" "Why wouldn't I be?" "Don't know, but if you tune the strings any tighter they'll snap."

A sweet laugh rings through the warm spring air, bright and playful like a wind chime dancing in a gentle breeze. It's a beautiful sound, full of joy and giddiness and love. It tugs at Steve's heart, a bittersweet ache he's come to recognize and accept around Nancy these days.

He watches as she walks down the aisle, her white dress with the baby blue ribbon complimenting her petite frame, her big azure eyes sparkling with the promise of a happy life with the other half of her heart.

Steve gives her a soft smile, hiding his sadness and melancholy, because Nancy doesn't deserve one of the most important days of her life to be tainted by Steve's longing.

Neither does Robin. She's standing next to Steve, who is her best man of honor as she’s calling it, dressed in a burgundy tuxedo, her face nearly split in two at the sight of the love of her life walking toward her. She threatened to shave his hair off if he ever told anyone she called Nancy that. As if the way they were together could mean anything else.

They don't have eyes for anyone but each other, and before Nancy even reaches the altar, Robin steps forward, too eager to hold Nancy's hands in hers to wait any longer. It's not even funny, but Nancy throws her head back and laughs again, this time louder, uninhibited in a way she's never been with him. Not really.

And that's okay, because he realized that it hadn't been love between them. It had been the idea of love, the dream of the white picket fence life. They had wanted to be in love, and for a while they thought they were. Nancy, always smart, always curious and quick to figure things out, had been the first to realize it and had broken up with him over it. Steve had always been a little slower. It had taken him seeing Robin and Nancy together to finally realize the difference between wanting to be in love and being in love.

He remembered the day Robin came to him at seven-thirty in the morning, before the classes they were teaching even began, literally giggling and kicking her feet. She had told him with bright, excited eyes that she had met someone at the public lecture on how language shapes societal beliefs, or something equally nerdy. Not just someone, but "the most perfect woman that has ever existed, Steve, like, oh my God, you should have seen her, she's so beautiful I wanted to cry and then she opens her pretty mouth and she's also so smart, Steve, so much smarter than me, like, how is that fair, she’s perfect," she rambled on and on.

A few weeks later, Steve found out that the beautiful, smart woman was none other than his ex. Robin had fallen in love with the first girl he ever thought he loved. The one who made him realize there was more to life than popularity and doing what was expected of you. The one who broke his heart into a million pieces. The one who had made him cautious in a way he’s never had been before.

It had hurt, at first. It hadn't been easy watching his best friend, his platonic soulmate, get the love he once had while he went from date to date, bed to bed. Steve soon realized that it didn't hurt because he was jealous of Robin. It hurt because he was jealous of what Robin and Nancy had that he didn't.

Now, four years later, most of that was gone. He is so, so happy for them, his heart full of love for these two wonderful women who still acted like they'd just started dating.

He thinks of the way they still giggle together at the breakfast table, of the way Nancy always makes fun of the way Robin gets during the holidays, all stressed out and frenetic, going all out with the decorations and the presents and the traditions. The way Nancy wears that indulgent, gentle smile that is only Robin's when she does it. Or how Robin still kisses the ring Nancy's been wearing since their first anniversary whenever they haven't seen each other for more than a few hours. The ring they told everyone didn't mean they were engaged, even though they were. A secret only Steve ever learned, something he'll take to his grave.

As they stand before the officiant, holding each other's hands, lost in each other's eyes, and say "I do," Steve wonders if he'll ever find what they have. He wants it, wants it so bad that he can feel it sitting on his chest, knocking the breath out of his lungs. It feels like he's walking through life with Yearning at his side, holding his hand, lying in his arms at night, kissing his lips good morning and good night. It's the longest relationship he's ever had.

After the ceremony, the wedding party mingled while waiters walked around with champagne flutes, and Steve grabbed two and downed them in quick succession. The hardest part is over, he tells himself, now buck up and have some fun, for Robin and Nancy, if not for yourself.

Steve nods to himself and grabs another flute.

He can do this.

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

Playing in a wedding band was not exactly what he had in mind when he told his uncle that he wanted to make a living with his guitar. And yet here he was with Gareth and Jeff and Grant, setting up their instruments in fucking tuxedos instead of the ripped jeans and leather and chains they usually wear to their concerts. He really doesn't get paid enough for that.

But he does get paid, more than he can say for most of the gigs they play in clubs and bars around town. So wedding band it is. For now.

Eddie's eyes sweep over the crowd, landing on the happy couple chatting with some of the wedding guests. He liked them, especially the taller of the two, Robin (like the bird, he thinks, and it helps him remember her name), because she had also been in a band, and they had bonded over the horrors of being a band geek and theater kid in high school. He had given her a social pariah discount after that.

He lets his eyes wander further, taking in the mingling guests, chattering and laughing in small groups, before they land on a man standing all alone at the bar, and the first thing Eddie thinks is, he looks so lonely, followed by, that's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen, why is he all alone when everyone should be drawn to him like bees to the most enticing flower.

Just as he thinks that, the guy looks up from his empty flute and their eyes meet across the room.

Eddie has always been a romantic, but he never believed in love at first sight. Still doesn't, but his heart stutters in his chest and the world around him grows distant and quiet.

He smiles softly at the man, hoping his thoughts don't show on his face. Thinks they might, because the smile he gets in return is dazed, wondrous. Eddie wonders how he's not used to people fawning over him, throwing themselves at his feet, vying for his attention.

Before he can do anything stupid like walk over to the man and catch his perfect lips in a devouring kiss, Gareth taps him on the shoulder.

"You okay, man?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Don't know, but if you tune the strings any tighter they'll snap."

That's enough for him to tear (most of) his thoughts away from the lovely angel who is standing just a few, endless feet away, and back to what he's doing. It's not his sweetheart, but his uncle gave him this guitar, an acoustic, the one he learned to play on. She's his lucky charm, and he strokes her in silent apology.

When they're all set, he steps up to the microphone and greets the wedding party.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, it's an honor to witness and celebrate the union of those two lovebirds over there," he points to Robin and Nancy, "with you. We're here to give this joyous occasion the soundtrack it deserves, and we hope you enjoy it. Requests are welcome, and the cuter you are, the more likely we are to play them." He winks at the crowd, thinking of a certain someone who could probably ask for any song, and Eddie would at least try.

He's got it bad.

"But first we have the opening dance. Please give it up for Mrs. and Mrs. Wheeler-Buckley."

With that, the two women make their way to the center of the dance floor, hand in hand, and Eddie begins to strum the first few notes. Everyone is quiet as the newlyweds begin to dance across the hall.

As Eddie sings the lyrics to the song the brides have chosen to declare their love, he can't help but look for the man from earlier.

'Cause it's you and me And all of the people with nothing to do Nothing to lose And it's you and me And all of the people And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you

He finds the man looking right back at him, eyes wide and dark as they watch him, and Eddie knows he has to talk to him, has to at least try, because he feels like he's on the verge of something monumental, something terrifying and wonderful and exhilarating.

It's almost an hour later when he gets his chance. They play their last song before the first break of the evening and Eddie can't wait to get a cold beer and smoke a cigarette outside before he talks to Mr-Too-Gorgeous-To-Be-Real.

Only Mr-Too-Gorgeous-To-Be-Real has other plans, because that's when he approaches the stage and stands right in front of Eddie, looking up at him through long, dark lashes and tousled honey-colored hair. His eyes are hazel and droopy, the sexiest bedroom eyes Eddie has ever seen, and he's glad to have a guitar in his lap.

They finish the song and the cute guy starts clapping before he realizes he's the only one and stops with the most adorable blush on his cheeks. Eddie is a total goner. Cute, sexy and a dork? He never had a chance.

Leaning over to him, Eddie asks in a hopefully sexy, sultry voice, "You're cute enough that I would even play Last Christmas if you asked. And I hate that song."

The blush deepens, but there's a twinkle in his eyes that Eddie is dying to see more of. "Oh, how do you know my favorite song?" he says, batting his eyelashes at Eddie and smiling in a way that is both a challenge and an invitation all at once, and before he can help himself, Eddie starts to strum on his guitar.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart But the very next day you gave it away This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special

Eddie feels the stares of his bandmates at his back. They know how much he despises this song, have to listen to his rants about it every December, but he doesn't care what they think. He doesn't want to go home with them.

Pulling his guitar over his head and gently setting it on the floor, he jumps off the stage and lands next to the star of many dreams yet to come.

"I'm Eddie," he says, holding out his hand.

"Steve, nice to meet you," Steve says, taking Eddie's hand in his goddamn paws and Eddie's brain takes a short vacation. He silently thanks a God he doesn't believe in and vows to spend a lot of time on his knees with God's name on his lips whenever his mouth isn't full.

"Steve, what do you say we get out of here for a while?" Eddie knows he's being very forward, obvious in a way he usually isn't. He likes to play with his prey, draw it out, let the tension build. But right now he just wants to ask Steve if he can see him again. Preferably tomorrow, for breakfast at the latest.

Good thing Steve seems to be on the same page, because without another word he grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him towards the patio door leading to the grounds.

They both grab a beer from the bar before stepping outside into the bright May sun. There's a secluded area a few yards away from the main building with a small pond and a bench right under the cherry blossoms, and Steve sits down on it, beckoning Eddie to join him.

Eddie does, sitting as close as he can without being in Steve's lap, and Steve laughs, bright and happy, looking at him like he's something special.

"Tell me about you," Eddie says, and Steve laughs again.

"Like what?"

"Like everything."

Now Steve looks doubtful, almost nervous, as if he thinks Eddie is joking, and Eddie wonders how many people have ever bothered to get to know Steve.

He adds a please through his pouting lips, making his eyes big and round and batting his eyelashes for good measure. Steve snorts, but the lines around his eyes and mouth disappear.

Steve talks until Jeff comes and finds them to tell Eddie that their break ended 10 minutes ago and that he'd really like to get paid for this gig, thank you very much.

Eddie jumps up and runs toward Jeff, but pauses mid-step, turns around, runs back to Steve and tells him, "We're on until midnight, after that I'm free. I really want to dance with you, so please tell me you won't turn into a pumpkin at midnight."

Steve scrunches his nose, confused. "Why would I turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

"Never mind. Will you save me a dance?"

Jeff clears his throat loudly behind them, and Eddie flips him the bird without taking his eyes off Steve.

"I'd love to."

[blueberrypancakesworld]

HEYY I don’t know if you write Hunchback of Notre Dame fanfics but I’ve read your stories and would love to see one!! If it’s no trouble, can you please write a Quasimodo x reader type story? It’s alright if not, but I just love your posts <33

The secret flower and the bell ringer

Quasimodo x fem!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, some angst, implied obsession (a little bit), both are young adults don't get confused by the summary

Summary : The Hunchback of Notre Dame the raised son of the judge but what if these are not the only secrets of the church. What if two outcast children find comfort under the bells of the church.

info : i'm so sorry that i'm doing it after months i hope you like it and thank you very much for your lib it helped me a lot. There will definitely be more to come for the movie but now have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Paris there are two kinds of children who had a family, who had someone they could rely on, who were safe and cared for, who received love and cohesion. They were children who were always seen holding their parents' hands and who didn't have to make an effort to be picked up or loved.

That was one kind of child, the others were the poor million souls who had no family, who were bastards and outcasts who grew up in children's homes and were not cherished and cared for.

But above all, these children were incapable of love and were happy when they were adopted, as the upper classes and the mob always said behind their backs.

Facts and words that were not only known to the mysteious bell-ringer of the church who rang the bells every day and was humbly grateful for the mercy of his master and rearing judge Frollo.

He wasn't the only one to feel the same gratitude. This gratitude was also reflected in the life-affirming and trying to find positive and loving look of the young flower seller, who also looked after the children's home paid for by church taxpayers.

Two souls who never met but he watched her from the highest towers and hanging from the stone statutes, he watched her whenever she sold the most colorful flowers at the market, smiling her lovely smile as best he could. ,,She's full of joy, people!" he had said over and over again to his three cronies when he saw her joyful smile when her little children came to her and pulled what they had found or begged for.

But even when she stood there with her flowers on the small wooden stand, her gaze always seemed to go back to the church. ,,Are you watching me father or is it someone else?" she said to herself whenever she thought she saw a shadow on the roof when she slept at night in the church in the bedchamber he had left for her.

The Archdeacon of Paris of Notre Dame her father a pious kind-hearted man who had taken her in twenty years ago when he had left her at the door. Whenever she saw herself in a reflection or in a mirror, she asked herself if she was the image of her parents? Did she even look like that? Or was it because of something important? Was I ever loved at all?

But these questions she was asking herself began to disappear not only when she received the thanks of the archdeacon she was grateful to, but also the children she looked after, who she knew she would hopefully help them to live better lives by teaching them to read and write.

,,Another day coming to an end and yet…no family, no home" she mumbled as she packed up the rest of her flowers and had just said goodnight to the children in the orphanage and hummed a little bedtime song.

Unbeknownst to her on her way back to the church, however, this time there were two pairs of eyes on her, one full of arrogance and the other full of sincerity.

Opening the large door and looking at the flowers, she decided to place a few of the remaining ones at the altar to pray that the day would be good when she opened her eyes in the morning.

,,A flower blooms with beauty like you" she heard his voice knowing that when she got up she would see him standing there with that arrogant expression. ,,Judge Frollo you are too kind…but I-I have to go to bed tomorrow is another day" she tried to convince him as she almost dropped the other flowers in shock as she stood up and tried to walk slowly towards her room when she saw his smiling face.

,,Of course you said a night prayer, the judge should judge you and your pretty thoughts, shouldn't he?" he asked making an inviting gesture that she knew where he wanted to take her. He scared her, Frollo was like a parasite on flowers, destroying them and leaving them broken. ,,Yes-No, please leave me alone," she begged, afraid of what was to come as he came closer and closer to her when suddenly a clatter came from somewhere in the church.

Something that made them both stop and Frollo seemed to regain his composure and saw hatred in his eyes as he retreated back up the towers, muttering something about being no good.

Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she suddenly heard footsteps and a vroshctiges ,,Are you all right?" which made her flinch.

Looking around, she didn't see the few candles and torches before she saw the shadow on one of the pillars, ,,Yes, thank you, I'm fine…thank you for saving me, who are you?" she asked as she walked towards him, wanting to thank her savior, feeling her heart beating fast with fear, darkness and joy.

She saw a facet emerge and she stopped to look into a slightly deformed face, a deep yet kind, just too over-friendly smile and two curious, almost over-curious eyes hidden under a few red strands of hair.

The fiery red hair, the greenish clothes, the hump, ,,You're the nice bell-ringer, aren't you?" she asked, seeing how surprised he seemed that she didn't run away for help, preferring Frollo to him.

She saw him turn away for his own sake before he nodded and after a back and forth held out his hand to her, ,,I am Quasimodo pleased to meet you flower lady" he introduced himself and hobbled lightly to the altar with the flowers which he touched gently with his large hands.she couldn't help but giggle at the nickname it was one of the sweet friendly ones and he himself, Quasimodo seemed to be the friendly curiosity personified.

She followed him and crouched beside him to the flowers, ,,You are my savior Quasimodo a quality not everyone has thank you" she thanked him again and tapped him as he didn't quite seem to have heard her but the poor man seemed to be hearing a little more difficult with all the bells anyway.

He looked at her, puzzled, before a wide grin graced his lips and he pulled her into his arms for a sudden but thankful hug, unaware that he already knew she had the flowers with her.

Even if he wouldn't admit it, he had been watching her, but he liked her, she was the reason why he didn't become like his "father", she was like a saint, a light that helped him and for that he was grateful to her until the end of his life. ,,Thank you, you're nice flower girl…tell me, do you like the sun?" he asked after a moment's thought and was already thinking of an idea when his head went to the window.

She nodded and was about to answer when he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him through corridors and passages she had never even heard of, up walls and railings that he carried her up with ease. Before they arrived at a kind of small viewing platform on which they sat down and he gave her Paris from a perspective she didn't think she could love this city any more.

,,That's wonderful, thank you a thousand thanks," she said happily and reached into her hair, which contained a small white daisy, ,,Here for my savior," she said and moved closer to the redhead, whom she clasped the flower to her ear.

She saw him open slightly and giggle before she allowed him to lean his head against her shoulder and her hand went to his, holding them together as they watched the sun rise and rise like feelings between them that, like flowers, grew stronger and more beautiful with each passing day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[queerofthedagger]

My father was a tailor in Leeds, as was his father and his father’s father. Time was if a man on the Avondale Road asked where he might find the finest clothes in northern England, he was pointed toward the shop of a man named Rackham. Then the men who sell wool decide they’d prefer not to compete with the men who imported fine cotton, and as the men who sell wool have the ears of the men who make laws, an embargo is enacted to increase profits and calico disappears. And my father’s business that he inherited from his father and his father’s father begins to wither and die. And my father suffers the compound shame of financial ruin seen through the eyes of his son and descended into drink. I’d sit beside him as a boy at the Sunday service as he shouted at the pastor, at the altar - at anyone who’d listen, really - at the injustice of it all. And I’d put my arm over his shoulder as the insults began, help carry him out of the church. God the insults. At his funeral, our neighbors were kind enough to whisper them rather than call them out loud. So, I set out to work, determined to rebuild what had been taken away. I was thirteen years old, but I was determined… Until a man arrived at my door claiming to hold debts belonging to my father, debts accumulated as my father drank, debts he claimed that now belonged to me, debts I could not possibly have hoped to repay, debts over which this man would have seen me imprisoned - imprisoned in a place where the debts would have been discharged only through hard labor, hard labor with no wages, working at - wait for it - the production of textiles. “You people, incapable of accepting the world as it is” says the man to whom the world handed everything. If no Anne, if no rescue, if this is defeat for me, then know this: you and I were neck and neck in this race right till the end, but, Jesus, did I make up a lot of ground to catch you.

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 13: Roleplay

October 28th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You and Matt sneak into the church for a little roleplay.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), religious imagery, blasphemy (like, this is blasphemous beyond compare), blowjob in a church, mentions of oral afab!receiving, mentions of body worship, roleplay (Matt plays a priest), hair pulling, face-fucking, wrong use of a confessional booth

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/n: I... I need holy water.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…”

This is wrong. This is so wrong. But if it’s wrong, why does it feel so right?

It is filthy, perhaps even perverted, but you can’t help it.

You are doomed. 

He is the apple and the snake that compelled Eve to break the most important rule in the Garden of Eden. He is the forbidden fruit and the devil himself. You weren’t supposed to have a bite of him, and still, you did because he was so convincing. He drew you in from the first word spoken between you. He compelled you to take the apple, and now you are doomed. 

Matt is sitting in the confessional booth. There is not a single soul in sight other than your doomed person, on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t need the robe to appear like a priest. He’s dressed in all black, and his demeanor reminds you of the men you have so often seen giving sermons on TV. 

What you are doing should guarantee you a place in hell, but right now, you couldn’t care less. 

“What do you need to ask forgiveness for?” he asks you.

His hand rests on the back of your head, keeping your head close to his clothed crotch. 

You swallow. The rain outside is hitting the church windows. You broke in, which is a crime, but kneeling before the man you love and asking for forgiveness is not. It can’t be.

You are not religious, far from it, and he is the only person in the world that could give you the salvation you need. It isn’t wrong, it is just right. And if you get caught, at least you had a good time. 

His cock is straining against his very thin dress pants. This is his fantasy as much as it is yours, maybe even more so. You know he is ridden with guilt, but right now, he is blooming in his new role. There is no way you two would ever leave before he hasn’t finished what he started. 

The floor is cold under your knees. They must be bruised by now, but you manage to tune out the pain. That is part of it. Part of life. Part of existence. And it is part of atoning for your sins. 

“I have been a bad, bad girl,” you whisper into the dead of the night. 

Matt shifts a bit. “How so?” he asks. 

“I’ve been having… thoughts. About a man of God.”

“What kind of thoughts?” With every word, his voice grows thicker.

You blink through the fog of your arousal. “I’ve been thinking about him touching me,” you say. 

Your eyelids flutter. You look so innocent, and he can’t even see you. Only with his fingers on your face does he get an idea of what your features might look like right now. And you are hungry. Hungry for him. Hungry for more. 

“I’ve been thinking about touching him–” Your palms rub his muscular thighs, “Touching him in places I should not think about touching a man of God.”

You can hear him suck in a sharp breath in the darkness of the booth. He shifts again. “And do you think God would forgive you for something like that?” he says. “Wanting a man of God to fuck you senseless? To touch you? To touch him?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer. 

“Have you been thinking about him in church?”

“Yes.”

What terrifies you most about this is that if he were a priest, a real priest with a robe and responsibilities, you would still think about him bending you over the altar and worshipping you. You would dream about him taking you to the confessional booth, forcing you to atone for your sins. You would dream about his hands around your neck, choking you to the point you get dizzy, and repeatedly calling you a bad girl. Because that is what you are. 

“You really have been bad,” Matt murmurs. He caresses the back of your head. “Luckily, your God is forgiving.”

You blink up at him. “He is?” you ask. 

“Yeah. If you are willing to repent for your sins.”

When he shifts this time, his free hand goes to his belt. He unbuckles it, letting the leather fall to the floor. You don’t move. Not even when he opens the button, then his zipper, and then reaches into his boxers to take out his hard cock.

You drool, but you don’t move. It just so happens that the moon shines through the small window and shines a light on him in all his glory, with his cock out and his cheeks flushed. 

Matt Murdock is an ethereal sight you can never get enough of, even when he is pretending to be a priest. For him, you will be as bad as you can be. You have no choice. You want to be. 

“What’s my sentence, Father?” your voice is barely above a whisper. 

He takes his cock into his hand, giving it a few pumps before pulling your head closer. A moment of deafening silence follows. Thunder rumbles. The rain reminds you of the pool in your underwear, making it hard to stay still. 

Matt lets out a shaky breath as he guides his cock to your lips. “Open,” he says. His voice wavers slightly. 

You do as you’re told, but you look up at him, still awaiting an answer. 

A smile finds its way to his lips, and it is as dark as the booth itself. He opens his mouth again. “Atone,” he says. 

And in an instant, he has fucked his cock down your throat. 

You choke around his girth. Tears spring to your eyes. The head meets the back of your throat, and you gag, but you don’t force him away. You keep your hands on his thighs and your head bowed low, and you let him fuck your mouth like there is no tomorrow.

He asked you to atone. To be forgiven for your sins, you need to do this. You are his to play with. You are his to own. Right now, at least. Right now, that is all you want to be. His fucktoy. His means to get rid of pent-up frustration. His way of living out his darkest fantasies. 

You are so wet, you pray to God that you don’t leave a stain on the floor. But does it matter? He will fuck you over the altar later. He will spread your legs and bury his head between your thighs. He will let you pull his hair and fuck his mouth the same way he is doing to you because that is his way of repenting. Then it is his turn to atone, when he is no longer the priest but the disciple, and you are his goddess that he prays to. 

“Hail, Mary, full of grace,” Matt chokes out between heavy thrusts into the tight confines of your mouth. He can’t even hear anything but the sound of yours and his breathing, and his needy moans that fill the air. “The Lord is with thee,” he continues, but he is having a hard time forming the words. 

You have heard him pray before but during sex? While he is fucking your mouth like a madman? That is new. It makes your pussy clench around thin air, and your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs. The pain only makes him moan louder. It is heaven to your ears.

“Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb–” He grits his teeth. “Jesus!” 

You gag again, his cock now forced even deeper. You can’t breathe, not even through your nose. The lack of oxygen is making you feel all kinds of things, but certainly none of them bad. 

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners,” he says, “Now and at the hour of our death.”

He thrusts and he thrusts, and with a harsh pull on your hair, he forces you off his cock. “Amen,” he almost cries out as his balls tighten, and he comes all over your face. 

There is not an inch that is not covered by his seed, by the very essence of him. His cum slithers down your throat toward your breasts. 

Another rumble of thunder strikes the church. The clock strikes midnight. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes. He’s panting, his chest heaving, but for the first time in weeks, he looks content. 

“Amen,” you whisper back. 

So, you have finally atoned, and now, it is his turn. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

[my-deer-history]

On partiality

A few thoughts on why 'partiality' - even more than 'love' - is an important expression in Hamilton and Laurens’ correspondence.

Partiality is a word that denotes fondness, preference or bias for one person over others, often used in sentimental writing as a synonym for love (both familial and romantic). Jane Austen uses both forms in Pride and Prejudice (1813):

Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural [...] I had often seen him in love before. […] From that moment I observed my friend’s behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him.

Hamilton himself uses partiality in the context of love in a letter to Elizabeth Schuyler:

I believe in my soul you are an inchantress; but I have tried in vain, if not to break, at least, to weaken the charm—you maintain your empire in spite of all my efforts—and after every new one, I make to withdraw myself from my allegiance my partial heart still returns and clings to you with increased attachment.

Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, 5 October 1780

But partiality is not a direct synonym for love - the nuance comes from the fact that it is an antonym of impartiality. 

An enlightened 18th century gentleman walked a fine line to balance rationality - which elevated reason, intellect and justice (especially in the spheres of public life, such as politics and business) - with sentimentality - which expected him to display profound emotion at appropriate (usually private) moments, as a testament to his morality.

Expressing love was certainly a virtuous thing - a man could profess love for his family, spouse, country, comrades, beliefs (religious or otherwise), and so on - but when it was labelled partiality, that love was made less gentlemanly, less virtuous and noble. Partiality masked flaws, reducing the ability to make objective choices, and hinted at a weakness of character in a gentleman who was supposed to be fair, just and disinterested in his dealings. Therefore, a man who called himself partial was admitting that he allowed his feelings to affect his integrity, and was showing preference one person over others in a way that was possibly unfair or unwarranted - an intimate personal favouritism.

We see it used in this form in works spanning the century. In Alexander Pope’s 1717 poem, Eloisa to Abelard, Eloisa begs for her “partial eyes” to be turned away from her lover, Abelard, and back to pure religious love.

Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew, Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you: Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all. […] Ah no! instruct me other joys to prize, With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God.

In Charlotte Smith’s Emmeline (1778), partiality is contrasted with virtuous affection:

But for your charming friend my heart long retained its partiality; nor would it ever have felt for her that pure and disinterested friendship which is now in regard to her its only sentiment, had not the object of my present regret and anguish been thrown in my way.

In Evelina (1778), Fanny Burney shows the peril of partiality in masking flaws.

Yet perhaps I have rather reason to rejoice than to grieve, since this affair has shown me his real disposition, and removed that partiality which, covering his every imperfection, left only his virtues and good qualities exposed to view. [...] You flattered yourself that your partiality was the effect of esteem, founded upon a general love of merit, and a principle of justice; and your heart, which fell the sacrifice of your error, was totally gone ere you expected it was in danger.

We see this subtlety of meaning in Hamilton’s April 1779 letter to Laurens:

But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me.

In using feigned legalese (“pardon the fraud you have committed”), Hamilton puts himself in the role of a judge, but admits that he is not an impartial one - he is acting self-awarely according to his personal bias, and the love he expresses is tinged by it. Hamilton uses partiality again in his 8 January 1780 letter, after Laurens tries to promote Hamilton as a better candidate for the diplomatic mission to the court at Versailles:

Believe me my Dr Laurens I am not insensible of the first mark of your affection in recommending me to your friends for a certain commission. However your partiality may have led you to overrate my qualifications that very partiality must endear you to me.

In other words - your affection means that you’re not being objective about me, and that’s adorable. He’s teasing, acknowledging both his own shortcomings and Laurens’ inability or unwillingness to see them. Hamilton puts it in even plainer terms in his 30 June 1780 letter, in which he discusses the possibility of Laurens being paroled early. He contrasts both the “love” the military family feels for Laurens and the fair and objective rules of war with his own subjective affection:

I have talked to the General about your exchange; but the rigid rules of impartiality oppose our wishes. I am the only one in the family who think you can be exchanged with any propriety, on the score of your relation to the Commander in Chief. We all love you sincerely; but I have more of the infirmities of human nature, than the others, and suspect my self of being byassed by my partiality for you.

In sum, Hamilton’s written correspondence expresses love for Laurens in a variety of ways beyond the obvious - the word ‘love’ itself is indeed less telling than the other phrases he uses. In the context of the period, calling both himself and Laurens partial towards each other suggests that their affection was not just the pure and rational comradeship of fellow-soldiers, but a more personal, intimate and subjective sentiment.

[everlasting-rainfall]

-Headcanons about the Figarland Family-

Hey so this is me having come up with some bullshit that I use to further think up scenarios about an OC of mine known as Esther and her relationship with Figarland Garling

I figured that I would post them just for fun also just to clarify something, I DO NOT AND WILL NEVER CONDONE THE ACTIONS OF ANY CELESTIAL DRAGON

I might love Garling and I understand that the man is an absolute horrid human being like honestly if I wasn’t so sure that I would die then I would try to take his ass out if I saw him in real life but I can’t fight him so I’ll just run

In fiction world though, I wouldn’t mind if he forced me to stand at the altar and say I Do while wearing a white dress…

If you have any problems with that then please just scroll on by…

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Death, Execution, Celestial Dragons, SPOILER WARNING, Kidnapping, Yandere, Forced Pregnancy,

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

CENSORED BECAUSE TRIGGERS AND CHARACTER SPOILERS

-The Figarland Family is not only known for their status and power alongside Garling being a champion but because they make incredibly powerful warriors

-But not only that, they make a lot of incredibly talented weapons smiths as well like I have an OC named Berkley who is Garling’s brother and he’s an incredibly skilled weapon smith

-The stuff that has come out of the more weapon smithing members of the family is quite impressive like they’re incredibly high end and don’t allow just anyone to have them

-Typically the really good weapons are handed to the fighters of the family while the not so great weapons are what’s given to people outside the family

-The Figarland Family has quite a few hunting/guard dogs like they’re all Tibetan Mastiff’s and they are some of the scariest and most terrifying dogs you will ever see

-People have legit horror stories about those things calling them hellhounds and things like it’s rare to meet a person in the holy land who don’t know about those things

-They are well trained, well groomed, well cared for, and know exactly how to mess you up

-No one knows that if you’re a member of the Figarland Family then these guys are total sweethearts, they enter serious mode whenever there’s a visitor or they’re outside or they have specific orders to be in serious mode

-They have a leader too and it’s a little Pomeranian that all of the Tibetan Mastiff’s listen to like these dogs stand at attention the second that the Pom barks in a specific way

-The Pom is an old dog but it’s not to be messed with and it’s been seen legit herding the mastiff’s like they’re a bunch of sheep

-Garling didn’t see the point of the Pom when he was younger and disrespected it once… Don’t ask what happened but know that he now knows that the Pom is very important and whatever you do, never mention his leg scar…

-The Dogs typically get very protective around the younger members of the family like there’s an old picture of Shanks (I subscribe to the idea that Garling is Shanks Dad) as a baby cuddled up with one of the dogs

-They also are the best friends of any Yandere members of the family as they’ll go serious mode and watch over the Darling when the Yandere isn’t around

-Garling spends at least an hour in front of the mirror every morning doing his hair, it’s even longer when he’s older and has the beard

-It’s a hairstyle that the men of the family share like if Shanks grew up around them then it’s very likely that he would have eventually been made to grow his hair out and adopt the hairstyle that his father and all the other men do

-The women of the family don’t have to do it and are pretty much allowed to wear their hair however they want just so long as it’s not like even something that the person with the weirdest hairstyle would find weird like I’m talking styling your hair into branches and hanging ornaments off of it

-Garling despite having a lot of celestial dragon bitches in love with him has absolutely no interest in any of them like he gets at least five love letters a day but he typically gets rid of them

-He has no interest in them and he doesn’t intend to have interest anytime soon as when he eventually falls in love, he wants that to be the one

-The one he dates, the one he marries, the one he makes birth his children, the one he stays loyal to

-That’s the one that he’ll personally pursue and he doesn’t give a shit what status they are as he’ll take them and just keep them in his home, they’ll never leave him and he’ll make sure of that

-This man is a natural born Yandere and I can’t be convinced otherwise…

-So as a result, Shanks mother/Garling’s spouse is still locked up in the house and not allowed to leave unless she’s accompanied by Garling himself or another family member but only if it’s an emergency

-Besides his S/O, Garling currently lives alone at the Figarland House like it’s just him and his S/O alongside the guard dogs

-He enjoys it as it’s good for quiet relaxation time whenever he doesn’t have to train or handle the other Holy Knights and that way as well, he’s able to listen for the footsteps of his S/O better

-As for where his brother, Berkley who I mentioned earlier lives? He lives on the property just not in the main house like he has a smaller house somewhere else on the property where he lives and handles everything

-It’s really the same for any other members of the family as well, they don’t live at the main house as that house is reserved for the head of the family to live in and when Garling’s father died. That became him

-If you feel lucky enough or if you’re desperate enough then if you find yourself being sentenced to death by Garling then you can actually propose a duel where if you win then you go free and if Garling wins then the execution continues

-Garling has accepted quite a few of these duels and has always come out as the winner with his fastest victory being seven seconds, he knows that he will never be defeated so he isn’t afraid in the slightest to take on these duels as they can be good fun in his own personal opinion

-However if Garling really doesn’t feel up to it or is in a hurry then he’ll either deny your request, allow one of the Holy Knights to fight you instead, or kill you right where you stand if you continue to insist or provoke him enough

-Doesn’t matter to him none

[sir-griswold-of-macelwain]

we've all seen the posts about how the stakes in Downton Abbey vary but a think I find most interesting is that everyone gets high and low stakes.

Like, a lesser writer might have had high stakes for upstairs and low stakes for downstairs. Ex: the succession of the estate, the tragic love stories of Edith, the crossed-star romance of Sybil, Matthew is in the war... meanwhile downstairs all that's happening is stuff like "oh no i put salt instead of sugar on the meringue! woe is me" and the wine/snuffbox-stealing plotline, the chicken falling on the floor, and petty power fights between Barrow and Bates.

But no! Because everyone in Downton Abbey is worth the detour! Everyone is important! So everyone gets high and low stakes.

And not just main characters either, because one could argue that Anna and Bates get more high stakes situations than Mr Molesley or Ivy, but still!

Robert has the succession of the estate to organize! He's got deadly health problems! And he is also sent into a fit by some petty jealousy over a man looking at his wife the wrong way, and when Isis disappears he gets completely wrecked, and he goes all the way to a pub on the other side of the country to speak to his former valet.

Cora goes through a surprise pregnancy that could jeopardize all the character development and plotlines of Season 1, but miscarries because (to make it short) she helped her mother-in-law find a new maid! She has these influence fights over who owns the house in season 2, and she covers for the death of Mr Pamuk, but she is also going to visit a museum because she enjoys art and it makes her happy.

Even when Mary and Edith's fights take international proportions (writing to the turkish embassy...) or when one suffers extreme heartbreak (Matthew's sudden death, being jilted at the altar...) they are still sisters who don't want to share a room, and who will, if rolling their eyes all the while, put on a singing act together for the benefit of soldiers.

Thomas gets beat up by scammers instead of Jimmy, he almost kills himself, he almost gets sacked for being gay. And he wrecks his room when he thinks bates put the snuffbox in it. He dances with the kitchen maid to make the footman jealous.

Mrs Patmore almost goes blind! She basically forces Daisy to marry William because of the shock of her nephew dying! Her B&B gets the reputation of a house of ill-repute (cue upstairs people laughing)! And then there's enough petty drama about the kitchen breaking down or Ivy putting on some rouge.

Violet finds a past lover she almost eloped with! She fights the influence of the state in the county hospital! And she's also charged with taking care of a niece for a holiday, and she gives the flower cup to Mr Molesley Sr.

Anna gets raped! Her husband is sent to prison for a murder he didn't commit! The man she loves is already married! And then she's absolutely out of element when she has to buy a box of condoms. She helps her roommate hide a typewriter. She sends an anonymous valentine to her husband.

Matthew almost dies at war! Will he ever be capable of having children and secure the estate? Lucky he was there to prevent Sybil from BLEEDING OUT! Oooh he just kissed Mary in the dining-room! How cute! And where will they live after the wedding? That's a pretty important thing too!

Joseph Molesley is a bit like the opposite because he mostly gets low-stakes plots (the rue allergy, the Shackleton lunch, even helping Daisy with her exams isn't that high a stake except for Daisy herself...) and then he gets hired by Hollywood to write scripts!

[fatedstrands]

The Hidden Rogues ||@sayonaradumbass||

'Remember. Discretion is super important. My insider will know the moment you say the word.'

That was Vash's last words to Livio before sending him right back to the Eye of Michael. He'd given him directions once he'd entered July, as if he'd been there himself, guided him through everything with written notes in case either forgot.

Down slick streets he was led to a small temple. The architecture was something of a gothic Victorian inspired place of worship, with hints of ancient Greek pieces here and there.

Stepping into the main hall the ceilings stretched into the air, the pews lining the heart, the sides of the temple spattered with pieces of worship for many religions. A prayer mat, a few altars of different pantheons and a confessional towards the back.

'To the confessionals, go behind and turn left. there's a long red curtain. C'mon, don't give me that look! Just trust me bud!'

As the man moved through the temple, the giant stained glass window was quite a sight to see. An angel with a golden halo swaddled in vibrant red fabric perched over a silver cross at his feet with delicate flower framing his form as feathers curled around his half curled form looking asleep.

Behind the red curtain there was the great wooden door Vash had promised. The thick metal handle clicked as it was twisted, door creaking as it opened to reveal the much smaller hidden space. Green smothered within, plants crawling along moss culminating in a wide altar, the back most shelf adorned in hundreds of candles, to the left a small stone fountain and cupboards, the right a plush chase large enough to hold two people laying side by side comfortably.

In the center was a podium of stone, the quiet murmurings of the figure halting. Instantly, the room filled with a familiar static energy that snapped into Livio's frame, halting him from getting too far in without causing any form of pain. The white clad figure slowly stood from his kneeling position, blue locks whispering as he turned to face what had intruded.

"What are you doing here, Double Fang." Gold flashed as they locked on the brutish man, the right hand of the dark brother stood, hair longer than anyone had ever seen it, the man having been hardly seen since Nicholas had died. There was something different about the man that stood there, though it was hard to place.

'No matter who you see, remember the phrase. I promise you it'll be the right person there. Just trust me, Livio.'