#thank you again for the ask. this is a really fun game!!

[mygaynesshasnolimits]

Those photos you shared from the state fair - they have known Paige since she was super young like 4th grade. Azzi as well later on. Two of them are Paige's old AAU coach Tara Starks and her daughter. Tara is now the coach for Hopkins I believe. Paige has called Tara a mother figure and her daughter was a graduate asst for Geno for two seasons. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGUVLsUOYqg). I forget who Crissha - maybe another asst. coach or teacher or something. She has a lot of old photos of Paige and Azzi. -🔎

16 year old bday post for Paige

https://x.com/crissha/status/921450592807063553

Paige and Azzi in tryouts for U16.

https://x.com/crissha/status/869016154723037185

All three of them with Paige.

https://x.com/crissha/status/1308461106474741760

This one from 2019 has Azzi.

https://x.com/crissha/status/1110521499683823618

Paige and Azzi in 2018.

https://x.com/crissha/status/1008158530011090950

This one is tricky but really fun to see - Paige and her coach Tara Starks reacting to Arike hit the buzzer beater against UConn in 2018. They had seats behind the basket. You see them in the 23rd second of the video. Paige in the hoodie.

https://x.com/crissha/status/981568279503409152

Her nickname for Azzi is Ms. Petty?! I wanna know the back story for that one lol

https://x.com/crissha/status/1398433060580823045

Anyway, thought I would share that context in case folks didn't know!

🔎 I just don't know how you do it. You're amazing. Seriously. And then u have me. I'm absolutely EMBARRASSED I didn't notice coach T..for whatever reason (azzi's muscles I'm sorry I'm weak), I was distracted and just assumed they were just regular people at the fair 😭 anyways, I believe crissha was the assistant aau coach when paige was in school and might be the current aau/metro stars coach now.

I saw your ask/message at around 11 pm, it's now 4:30a.m. you sent me down a rabbit hole (at one point I did fall asleep for like an hour and dreamt of paige and azzi at the u16 trials lmfao) anyways thank you for sharing.

Paige has called Tara a mother figure (she has such a deep history with her. i think she was like the CD of hopkins, if you will, keeping her in order)

16 year old bday post for Paige

Paige and Azzi in tryouts for U16.

All three of them with Paige (this pic was taken coach Tara and crissha literally went to CT with paige when she was officially moving in to uconn, which I find incredibly sweet)

This one from 2019 has Azzi.

Paige and Azzi in 2018.

Paige and her coach Tara Starks reacting to Arike hit the buzzer beater against UConn in 2018. They had seats behind the basket. You see them in the 23rd second of the video. Paige in the hoodie.(I thought you wrote "23rd seat" and was like how the hell do they know the seat number 😭i added a screenshot from another video where u can see her face)

Her nickname for Azzi is Ms. Petty?! I wanna know the back story for that one lol they know about her menace-ery lol

just adding here that coach Tara attended a uconn game in Nov 2021, I believe it was azzi's first game (I cannot afford to go back into the rabbit hole to check rn it's 6am 😭) and also visited the girls again in 2022.

thank you again 🔎

[sigh-tofm]

currently watching a reality/docu show about game wardens and i despise putting these men in us based scenarios but imagine…

… working in a 24/7 diner and regularly getting all sorts of law enforcement throughout the night, looking for a pick-me-up before they head back out again. your favourite is the big captain with a silver star and everything, who doesn’t really go on a patrols or calls anymore but still stops by your diner as often as he can. he’s ridiculously handsome in the rugged, brutish way, with a smiling lines around his eyes and impressive facial hair. always gets coffee and a slice of pie, always asks for a refill so he can watch your broad ass as you walk away when you retrieve the coffee pot. you kinda know what he’s about when he does that, but you don’t mind in the least letting him have his fun and wiggle your hips a little extra - he’s otherwise polite and a good tipper too. you don’t know it yet, but one of these days he’ll be waiting by your car for you to finish your shift and convince you to take him home with you.

… spending a summer day out on the lake, tanning in the back of bowrider you borrowed from your friend when you hear another boat coming up, motor idly working as the driver lets the waves bring him closer to you. you prepare to be annoyed at yet another guy who finds it hilarious to make fun of a fat girl in a bikini, but when you sit up you see it’s a game warden boat and aboard is the single most handsome man you have ever seen in your life, even though his face is shaded by his cap. he asks you all the important questions about boating licenses and life jackets, and you answer them all with a wavering voice, made a little nervous by this god of a man. he mistakes (on purpose) your hesitation as being under the influence and makes you do a breathalyser test. looks you straight in the eyes while you lock your lips around the tube to blow and taps your nose with his finger when the machine beeps and proclaims your innocence.

… being out hunting on the first day of the season and being stopped for a control by a game warden. you’re a good girl, you have everything in order, you tell him as he checks your gun, sticking his finger into the tube magazine to make sure that you don’t carry too many shotgun shells. he gives you a wry smile and asks for your hunting license and you pull out your wallet, only to find that you forgot it at home. he returns to his truck to check with dispatch to see if your story is true, if you really do have a hunting license in your name. proceeds to tell you your license is from last year and that you’re breaking multiple laws here. no license (even though you know you have one), lying to an officer (even though you’re speaking the truth) and hunting on private property (even though you’ve sure you didn’t see any signs about that coming in here). but you can’t prove any of that of course, not out here. seems you’re got yourself in quite the pickle, little lady. luckily warden mactavish is willing to let you make it right without giving you any fines.

… calling in about an owl that has gotten inside your house in the middle of the night. waiting in trepidation at the door so as not to agitate the animal further, only wearing your short dressing gown when there’s suddenly knocking. you open to find the biggest man you’ve ever seen standing on the porch, and you’re about to slam the door on him when he puts his foot in the door and announces he’s here about a bird. you nervously open the door again and he steps inside, having to turn sideways to fit his massive shoulders through the entryway. you point him to the living room where the owl is perched on your curtain rod. in less than three minutes he’s located it, caught it with his skeleton-gloved hands (not minding the talons at all) and taken it outside to release it. you’re ready to thank him and bid him adieu, but he shoulders his way back inside to straighten up the curtains again and sweep up the feathers, a service you didn’t know they provided. at last he stands up to his full height and looks you up and down, from your messy hair to your thick thighs. ‘now, about that bird…’

[heartsickelf]

Hi, I stumbled upon your post that you wanted to write a one shot and I think I happen to have an idea. It’s Thranduil x reader one shot. Reader asks him for an archery class but the elven king himself didn’t practice for centuries. Thranduil agrees because he has a crush on reader, but is really nervous in the process. And during their one on one class he obviously tries to find out if the feelings are mutual. Please don’t limit yourself on how sweet or dirty it could be. TIA!

Thank you so much for your request and my first one shot! I adored your idea and it was so much fun to write. Gave me all the giddies. I hope I did it justice <3

Please enjoy x

JUST LET GO (ao3 link)

Grabbing your bow and quiver full of freshly made arrows, you venture out into the forest of Mirkwood to practice your skills. Being a warrior of Mirkwood, it is essential for you to stay on top of your game. Although you are a relatively young elf being almost two centuries old, you were still fast becoming one of Mirkwood’s finest even though you had not yet seen war. Your name was known among your peers and mentors for a reason, however, not for your skills with a bow. Your skills lay with the sword but this was not enough for you. Being the young, tenacious elf you are, you sought to be the best in all forms of defence and the Mirkwood elves were known for their skilled archers. Being a proud Woodland warrior, you would not tarnish that reputation. The goal of one day joining the King’s guard was a priority and you knew that being skilled and highly regarded in both the sword and the bow would better your chances.

As you walked through the halls with your weapon, you didn’t notice the King catch a glimpse of you walking by from within a nearby room. He was speaking with one of his advisors but when his eyes caught sight of your determined face with the beautiful shade of your hair that was uniquely yours, his attention was elsewhere. The King had first taken notice of you when he was observing a training lesson from his private balcony which overlooked the kingdom. The way you moved with such poise and elegance, taking down your opponents as if it were child’s play. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you were dancing around with the sword. Being the swordsman he was, Thranduil decided to take it upon himself to conduct a few of your group training sessions. These were rare and no one knew it but it was just an excuse to learn more about you. The first time he had challenged you in front of your peers rendered him speechless. Your swords would clash and the looks you gave him with that cheeky little smirk each time you blocked his attacks made the usually composed and strong ellon weak at the knees.

Thranduil looked back to his adviser and quickly excused himself, intrigued about where you could be heading with such determination in your stride. He decided to follow you from a distance, curious that you carried your bow and quiver. With your eyes forward, you reached the entrance to the palace and walked through the gate towards the dense forest. You found the perfect spot to practice your shooting and set yourself up, removing your quiver from your back and placing it on the ground leaning it up against a boulder. Closing your eyes, you took in the gentle musical tones of the forest around you, tuning yourself into the surroundings. Loading the bow with an arrow, you opened your eyes and marked a dead leaf hanging from the branch of a nearby tree. A perfect target for practice. Raising the bow up and pulling the string back to your cheek, you squinted your eyes to lock onto your target and held your breath as you gently released the arrow.

Missed.

Taking a breath, you tell yourself that you’re warming up as you load another arrow into your bow, and once again take aim at the dead leaf. You squint your eyes again focusing your vision, holding your breath to steady your hand, and fire the arrow across the way towards the leaf.

Another miss.

Being the perfectionist you are, you feel a slight sense of frustration building up inside you. You were an elf! You should be naturally skilled with the bow. The prince makes it look so easy. You take a deep breath, pushing down the frustration and focus on the leaf once more. Analysing how it moves on the gentle breeze. You weren’t aware, however, of a pair of stormy blue and silver eyes watching you from a small distance. They watched your every move; the way your chest stilled when you held your breath, the squint of your eyes just before you released an arrow, how tall and proud you stood with the bow pulled taut. You were a vision of perfection, and you didn’t know it, but you were the beginning of the King’s undoing. Thranduil watched as you loaded a bow for the third time and released an arrow towards the leaf. The projectile just skimmed past the side of it and you released a sigh of defeat. “How does the prince do this?!” you exclaimed, without realising there were ears to hear you.

An involuntary chuckle escaped the King's lips and the sound made you load another arrow and pull it taut as you snapped your body around to search for where the sound came from. Using your acute elven eyesight, you searched in between the trees and through the long grass but could not see any sign of disturbance. That’s when a slow movement caught your eyes from behind a tree and you pulled the bowstring taut against your face one more time. “Whoever you are, I would advise you to reveal yourself.” Your breath is controlled and your hands steady. Movement could be seen as the tall ellon took a step from behind the tree and faced you with his hands up as a sign of peace.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle. Although, judging by your aim I do not have much reason to worry about being injured”, Thranduil said with a small smirk. You immediately put the bow down, gently loosening your grip on the string and the arrow fell to the ground. You bow your head low and begin apologising. “My King, please forgive me! I did not realize who it was when I aimed my weapon at you!”

Thranduil lets his hand fall back to his sides as he gently smirks at you. “Worry not, no harm was done and like I said, I’m not sure I was at any real risk to begin with.” You bring your face up to look upon your King’s and see his smirk. You thought to yourself, “Is he… teasing me?”. Surely not, he was the King! He was always strictly business. “My Lord, I fear you would be correct. Still, it can’t hurt to at least look threatening to a potential attacker.”

Thranduil nods his head, eyes never leaving yours. “No, I suppose you’re right. And you did do just that. You looked extremely… powerful.” Your eyes stare at Thranduil’s across the way and you’re a little stunned. Did the King of Mirkwood just give you a compliment? You’re unsure how to respond so you bend down to pick up your arrow from the ground and load your bow again. “Excuse me, my Lord, I must continue practicing my skills. As you have unfortunately witnessed, they are lacking.”

Thranduil did not take his eyes off you as he watched you bend over to retrieve your arrow. He started to feel uncomfortable as his thoughts wandered, imagining you in that position in front of him. He quickly shook his head of the thoughts before you turned back around to face him, not wanting you to see the look in his eyes. “Please, don’t let me interrupt you.” Thranduil gestured for you to continue with a motion of his hand. You got the distinct impression that Thranduil was not going to leave and you turn your head over your shoulder slightly. “Is it your wish to stay and observe, my Lord?” you asked nervously. “In fact it is. Would you mind?” The King responded, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “If it is my King’s wish then I would not deny you but perhaps I should take advantage of this situation a little.” You replied with the confidence to momentarily wind Thranduil in surprise. Thranduil stood tall and froze for a second at your words before speaking. “T… take advantage, you say? What were you thinking?” his mind going to places he could not speak of.

Surely your elvish ears had deceived you but you swore you heard the great King of Mirkwood stutter. “Well, you are a formidable warrior, my Lord. Your experience with weaponry rivals all others within the realm and you have challenged me in training with our abilities of the sword. Will you not now offer your mentorship to assist me with refining my skills with the bow?” Thranduil stood there taking in your innocent request, shaking off the images his mind conjured up when you mentioned taking advantage of the situation. He chuckled to himself at how foolish he could have been to believe you might have suggested a different activity. “Ah, I fear that I would not be able to teach you anything more than what your mentor has shared, my Lady. As you know, my skills lay with the sword, and I have not picked up a bow in many many hundreds of years, so I will be a little… rusty. My son would be a far better teacher.”

Feeling disappointed by his response, you decided to press the request. “Yes, my Lord. Legolas is certainly skilled with the bow, however, he is not here,” You say as you move your head around indicating the lack of the prince’s presence. “And you are. Come, show me the skills of the Elvenking. You cannot perform any worse than myself.”. You hold the bow out in front of you indicating that the King should take it. Thranduil looked from your eyes, to the bow and back up to your eyes while swallowing. It was a challenge, and he could not back down from it. “Very well, just do not expect much,” he said as he took the bow.

As his hand came down to grab the weapon, Thranduil accidentally brushed the top of yours which gripped it tightly. Electricity shot from both your hands and you both looked into each other's eyes for but a moment. Your breath hitched in your chest as did his and you saw his pupils dilate minutely. You looked away as you began to feel a little warm and handed him an arrow. Thranduil swallowed hard and took the arrow from you, loading it into the bow. “Where were you aiming before you caught me?” he asked teasingly. You looked up at him and gave him a small smile in return, “The low-hanging dead leaf just above the river” He looked in the direction you pointed and saw the leaf in question. Raising the bow and taking aim, he took only a second to lock onto the target before releasing the arrow. The leaf was shot from the branch and the arrow landed in a log on the opposite side of the river.

You stand there with your mouth slightly open, “What was that you said about being… rusty, was it?” Thranduil stood tall, a little proud with himself, hoping you would be impressed. “It was an inanimate object, hardly a challenge” he teased. You scoff, “Oh thank you very much!” you reply a little offended by his statement. It was an inanimate object that you had failed to hit. Realising how you may have taken his meaning, Thranduil turned to look at you, “My Lady, no offence was intended. You just lack the practice. Come stand here and I’ll guide your hand.” He suggested as he motioned for you to stand in front of him.

You hesitated for a moment, realising how close you would be standing to your King. The idea both excited you and made you a little uncomfortable. Sensing your unease, Thranduil held out a hand and looked at you, “Come, I do not bite... unless it is your wish”. Your eyes shot up to his and you noticed his mischievous little smirk. Blood began rushing to your face from the forwardness of his words and you weren’t sure how to respond. You began fumbling with words that tried to form, “My L… Lord. I… would never…” but you were quickly cut off by Thranduil chuckling but still holding out his hand. “My Lady, I tease. Please take my hand and let’s refine these skills of yours”.

Taking a deep breath and with your mind reeling, you slowly reach out your hand which was slightly trembling and placed it within his own. When he felt the warmth of your palm in his, Thranduil gently closed his fingers around it as though he was grasping the most delicate flower. The same electricity that was briefly felt before was now ignited and both of your senses came alive. You both looked from your joined hands to the other’s face and took in the moment, the silence being broken by Thranduil’s words, “Shall we?” he asked as his blue-silver eyes bore into yours. “Please” you responded but the word came out as more of a whisper as you were too lost in the moment.

Gently, Thranduil pulled you in front of him and handed you the bow with an arrow for you to load it with. He instructed you to aim it next to his arrow that was still lodged in the log across the river. Bringing the bow string up to your face as you pulled it taut you felt Thranduil’s breath on your ear as he brought his lips down to yours. “May I?” he asked, seeking permission to place his hand on your arms. Too scared to speak for fear of fumbling the words, you just nodded your head while you kept your breathing in check. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his body behind yours as his arms came around your form, enveloping you within his long limbs as his hands gently grasped your wrists which were on the bow and the string. “Breath” he whispered in your ear as he felt your body tense under his touch. “I believe I see the issue. Do you usually hold your breath before you fire an arrow?”

Again, worried to speak from fear of embarrassment you just nodded your head. “That's what is holding you back, my Lady.” Thranduil’s right hand that was grasping your right wrist, which was in place pulling the bowstring taut, suddenly relaxed its grip as he slowly slid his palm along your forearm trying to relax your body. He was taking in the moment as much as you were and he felt his heart flutter as his hand roamed your skin. You let out a sigh not from becoming relaxed, but from the deep sensations that were building within you from his touch. Thranduil heard your exhale and kept his voice low and soft while he spoke in your ear, “That’s it,” he whispered, “Let go, feel the earth around you. Allow the sensations to pour into your mind” You briefly closed your eyes as the sensations were becoming too much to handle but not the ones of which he spoke. Ever so carefully, he brought his right hand over the top of yours which was controlling the arrow while his left remained holding your left wrist. Gently, he moved the bow slightly as his face was almost resting on the side of yours, intending on seeing exactly what you see. “There. Are you ready?” he whispered again. Nodding your head once more, Thranduil smiled slightly and almost undid you with his next command, “Then let go.”.

You found yourself letting go in more ways than one. Yes, you released the arrow but as it flew across the way, you also felt your self-control letting go and realised that the King had you so worked up that you would do anything he desired. As fast as this realisation hit you, the arrow landed perfectly next to Thranduil’s. The King had yet to release you as he watched the arrow fly, he remained in place as it landed where it was intended. Even when it hit the target, he did not move his face or arms. “There, you see? You just need to breathe and let go”. Still holding the bow and being held by Thranduil, you slowly turned your head over your shoulder to look at him. He noticed your breathing had increased and he swallowed a little, feeling nervous, and looking down at your lips then back up at your eyes. “Yes, like that” he whispered, his lips centimetres away from yours, “Breathe.” He was telling you just as much as he was telling himself. “Just…” he moved closer, “…like…”, he closed the gap further as he looked for any hesitation in your eyes, “…that…” and when he saw none, he closed the space between you and placed his lips tenderly on yours. You felt your entire body react to the feel of his lips on yours and your eyes fluttered shut.

Thranduil was feeling the effects as deeply as you were. This outcome had not been his intent, it was not his goal when he followed you out here but he was savouring each second. How many times had he imagined you this close to him, his arms around you as he caressed your neck with his lips. How many nights had he laid in bed, seeing you next to him in his mind, touching you in ways to show you his true feelings. Here you were, right now with a beating heart allowing him to kiss you. Thranduil’s grips on your wrists loosened you realised that they were they only reason the bow you held was still upright. As soon as the support vanished, your arms fell to your sides, and you involuntarily dropped the bow to the forest floor. You felt one of Thranduil’s hands come to the side of your waist and gently turn your body so you were facing him, the other hand he brought up to your face, holding it as he deepened the kiss.

Without thinking, your body naturally responded to the King’s touch, also bringing your hands up to rest on his with one hand on his hard chest feeling his rapid heartbeat and the other grabbing his forearm that was holding your cheek. As the kiss intensified, Thranduil reluctantly broke away and gazed down into your eyes. “My Lady…” he began while trying to catch his breath, “My… apologies. I do not know what came over me.” Shaking your head in protest, you begin to speak, “My Lord, please. No apology is necessary. It was rather… lovely” you said sheepishly as you felt your face turn red. Thranduil looked upon you intently before continuing, bringing his hand down so both were now resting on your waist, “You are not… upset with me?” You look back at Thranduil with a look of utter confusion on your face. “Upset with you? My Lord, what reason could I be possibly be upset with you over?”. You bring your hands to rest on his forearms which were gently holding you.

Thranduil took a deep breath before responding. “I suppose this whole situation could be looked upon poorly. Me following you out here all alone, having you stand so close to me, moving you within my arms and finally… placing my lips upon yours. I assure you, this was not my intent but the way you looked at me just now, and have looked at me in the past, I could not stay myself any longer.” The honesty of his words made your heart skip a beat and it took you a moment to think of the right words. “My King, please, be at ease. The fault is as much mine as it is yours. I assure you, I do not look poorly upon the moment we find ourselves in”.

The King searched your eyes for any sign of falsehood but found none. All he saw was the same yearning he had been feeling for many many lonely months. “You do not mind then?” he asked quietly, hoping to hear the answer he desperately needed to hear. His heart jumps a little when he sees you begin to smile up at him and he felt you place a hand on the side of his face, “My Lord, to kiss you after seeing it happen in my sleep for so long, it’s my greatest dream to come to reality.” Your words went straight through to Thranduil’s heart and he continued to look at you with his mouth slightly open. “You’ve thought about me?” he asked slightly taken aback. I nod, trying to control my breathing as the confession is realised. “I have”.

Thranduil could control himself no longer and he brought his lips back down onto yours, crushing them with a need that had lived within him for many months. The second kiss took the breath from you but you cared not as you brought one hand up to the side of his face and placed the other around the back of his head bringing him in closer to you. He responded to the urgency of your hands by bringing one of his own to the back of your head, mirroring your actions and placing the other on the middle of your back to bring your bodies as close as possible. A little moan accidentally left your throat, and this fuelled the King’s desire even more but in the same second, he pulled away from the kiss and placed his forehead against yours, panting. “No.”

The word cut through you as you thought you had disappointed him in some way. Bringing your hands down to rest on his chest you whispered the word back to him. “No?”. Thranduil opened his eyes, keeping his forehead on yours and bringing his hands back down to your waist. “No. Not like this.” His meaning still lost on you as you looked into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong, my Lord?” Thranduil moved his face away from yours slightly to get a better look at your features. “Wrong? My Lady, quite the opposite. You have captured my heart and my mind. You’re all I’ve been able to think about during my quiet moments away from the politics. Do you not know the true reason why I lead your training group when I’m able? It’s for you, to be close to you. Y/N, you are the only thing that is right in my mind.”

As you look into Thranduil’s eyes and listen to his confession, you feel overwhelming emotions rip through you as, unbeknownst to the King, you desired him just the same. To have your feelings and emotions validated after all this time was too much for you to comprehend in this moment and you look away from him as you try to sort out all the thoughts racing through your mind. Softly grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, Thranduil tilts your head up to look at him. You saw his eyes and there was nothing but love and concern in them. “Y/N, what is it? Is this too much?” You shake your head and smile tenderly. “No, my Lord. This… this is perfect. It’s what I’ve desired for so long. I just never thought my feelings would be reciprocated.”

Thranduil returned the smile and cupped your face before placing a kiss on your forehead. “I had no idea you felt the same as I. All this time. This is a gift from the Valar.” You nod in agreement and take in the sensation of his lips on your forehead. Then you ask you a question that you're hesitant to know the answer to, “Then why, my Lord, did you stop your actions just now? If what you have confessed to me is true and our desires are the same, why stop?” Thranduil smiled down at you and kissed the tip of your nose before answering, “Because, you are worth more than a simple stolen kiss within my forest. Do you have plans this evening?” You shake your head no. “Good, keep your evening open for I wish to invite you to dine with me. I wish to learn more about you and then, if you will allow it, perhaps we could explore each other’s lips further.” Thranduil suggested, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip as he whispered the words.

The mention of exploring each other's lips was the final straw for you and you swore that if you weren't being held in place by Thranduil's hands on either side of your face then your knees would have given way from under you. You licked your lips at the thought and spoke "Just us?". A wide smile appeared on Thranduil's face as he tilted his head slightly and brought his lips as close as possible to yours without touching. He whispered his response while looking into your eyes, "Just us. Will you join me?" Feeling his warm breath on your lips, hearing his velvety smooth and deep voice while feeling his eyes bore into yours, you breathed out "I will join you, my Lord". You had barely finished the sentence before Thranduil sensually placed his lips on yours once more and lingered there. He didn't intensify the kiss but just merely moulded his mouth to yours and held the position while his thumbs lovingly stroked your cheeks.

Breaking the kiss, Thranduil moved his face away from yours and looked at you intently. "So perfect." You blushed but couldn't look away from him. Was this really happening? "I will send an attendant to accompany you to my quarters this evening when the sun is at it's lowest. I look forward to getting better acquainted, my Lady", and with that, Thranduil brought the top of your hand to his lips and placed soft kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. "Until then, my Lord". Thranduil went to turn to walk away but halted. "I do have one request, however" he began. Your nerves instantly rose as he was the King and he could make any request he wished. "Yes, my Lord?" you respond with a shaky breath. He turned to face you fully before making his request, "You are to call me Thranduil from now on". You were stunned by the request. How could you even think about not using his title? He was the King! "Yes, my Lord". Thranduil raised his eyebrows and smirked. Picking up on the facial expression, you quickly corrected yourself, "Yes... Thranduil".

Thranduil didn't respond directly but instead dropped his eyebrows and smirked wider at you. "Until tonight, my Lady" as he turned and made his way back to the palace.

You stood there as you watched him walk away trying to decide if this was reality or just one of your many vivid dreams you had of the Elvenking. Looking down at your quiver and then back at the two arrows still lodged within the log across the river, this was no dream and you felt like an adolescent with a crush again. Noting the position of the sun, you quickly picked up your bow and quiver and made for your chambers. This night was going to be one you'd remember for the rest of your days.

[uponawhitehorse13]

So I replayed the original Tsukihime��� I just wanna say that Nasu really like making waifu suffer tragic fate…

Anyway…

I wanna ask Reader helping Kohaku with her trauma, she may look cheerful but she must have some trauma from her past.

Helping Kohaku heal

This request comes from @cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme's inbox

Author's note: This was very fun to write and I'm very happy with how it turned out.

HUGE SPOILERS AHEAD

-You were probably running an errand when you met Kohaku. While you were at the same market you started chatting. This would repeat several times until you decided to invite her for a drink in a local cafe. Then another. Then to the movies. It wasn’t long until you had really connected with this cheerful maid. After a while she decided to invite you over to the mansion where she lives/works to meet her sister and the people she served.

-When the day came on the way over you were stopped by Ciel. She told you about the Tohno demon blood and how you shouldn’t involve yourself with that family but you persisted. The time at the mansion was surprisingly  pleasant. Most of it was spent drinking tea with Akiha and the maids. Shiki was out doing something so you’d have to meet him another time. After some time Akiha sent the maids away and confronted you. She knew Ciel told you about her family. She explained the situation with her family and explained the things her father and SHIKI did to Kohaku. But she also implored you to stay with her. She noticed that Kohaku was better since she started dating you. She also offered to allow Kohaku more free time so she may spend it with you and even a room for you to sleep in the mansion. You felt really horrible about the things you heard but decided to proceed with the relationship.

-When you were about to leave you were pulled aside by Kohaku. She overheard your conversation with Akiha and said she understood if you didn’t want to continue. While it was nice while it lasted she understands that you’d want a normal relationship instead of being with someone “broken” like her. It was at that point you were truly determined to stay with her and  help her. You told her that you’re horrified by what she’s been through but you are determined to stay with her and help her.

-Progress was slow but steady. You started coming over to the mansion more often and you slept over on the weekends and whenever you had spare time. You’d spend time helping Kohaku around the kitchen or watching TV and playing games in the evening. Since starting to become more open about her emotions she’d become prone to nightmares. While you two were cuddling asleep she would suddenly wake up and push you off her. When she realised what she did she’d quickly grab you again and start crying. You’d comfort her until she fell asleep again.

-The culmination of all the progress you made came when you were helping her in the kitchen as usual when your thoughts got interrupted by a yelp. Kohaku cut herself and was sucking on her finger to stop the blood while you went to get a bandaid. She seemed really focused on it until she realised you had a huge grin on your face. She started to get angry but then realised what you were smiling about. She was finally fully feeling things again. She joyously jumped in your arms to give you the strongest hug she had ever given you. You were getting blood on your shirt but you didn’t really care.

-After that not much seemed to change on the surface. Kohaku was going around being her usual cheerful self. But you knew what changed. It was no longer an act. The most surprising part of the whole ordeal was when you were alone with Hisui and she suddenly hugged you. She thanked you for helping her sister but also gave you the scariest look in the universe when she told you not to betray her. There was also the time Shiki talked to you. He told you about the promise he made to Kohaku as a child and gave you the ribbon. He’s sorry he failed her but glad she has you now. It was nice of him to do and it did give you an idea.

-Kohaku was waiting under the tree in the garden. Hisui told her that you asked her to wait for you there when you came over today. When you came you started telling her how sorry you are you weren’t there in the past to help her through all the things she’s been through but that you can promise that you’ll be there for her now and until the end of time. Kohaku was completely silent during your whole speech but when you presented her with the ribbon the silence was interrupted by sniffling until she leapt at you for a kiss. She was sobbing and thanking you for everything, it was a messy but incredibly sweet moment. When you were done she went to put on the ribbon but felt something wrapped inside slip out. She managed to catch it pretty easily. It wasn’t anything big, just a small ring. A ring…

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Make Me Write ask answered

162 📖 for @inell!

---

When they arrive at the fire station, Eddie is indeed in rough shape. Scratched, damp, and wearing a heating blanket. 

“Buck, why is my dad dressed like a baked potato?” Chris asks nervously when he sees him. 

Eddie is sitting in the back of an ambulance, looking a little sleepy. The other paramedic - the one that isn’t Chimney - is talking to him. 

“It’s keeping him warm,” Buck explains. “Why don’t you go see him? That’ll make him even warmer.”

“DAD!” Chris calls out, heeding Buck’s advice. He picks up his pace a little in Eddie’s direction. 

“CHRISTOPHER!” Eddie calls back once he sees him. He hops out of the ambulance, dropping the warming blanket, and runs across the engine bay floor towards his son. When he reaches him, he scoops him up into the biggest, tightest, most loving hug Buck has ever seen. Buck honestly feels a little choked up, watching it. 

He doesn’t want to intrude on their moment, so he hangs back, holding onto Christopher’s backpack. After a minute of this hug, of Eddie speaking quietly to his son, he finally looks in Buck’s direction. He sets Christopher down, strides over to where Buck is, and hugs him too. Just quick, with a clap on the back, but it’s still a hug. It catches Buck off-guard a little.

“Thank you,” Eddie says emphatically. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”

“No problem, really,” Buck says when Eddie pulls away. “Chris kept me in line. Made sure I knew the right answers to American history. Really he did me a favor.”

Eddie’s smile in response is practically glowing. “I owe you one, man.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just glad you’re okay.” Buck says. “Is Carla good? I couldn’t reach her either.”

Eddie nods. “Her dad isn’t well. She was visiting him today.”

“Oh,” Buck replies. “That’s… That’s too bad.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Listen, man, can I buy you a beer sometime? As a thank you?”

Buck… Well, for some reason, even though it’s totally not necessary, Buck really likes the sound of that.

“Yeah,” Buck nods. “Yeah, that’d be great. My number should be in your phone from when I tried to call you.”

“Perfect,” Eddie smiles. 

x.

It’s way too much fun. 

Buck meets Eddie at a sports bar. They grab beers. Watch a game. It’s probably the most fun Buck’s had in a while. Without work or a kid in between them, they connect as just people. And it turns out, they connect pretty well. They have a similar sense or humor and like a lot of the same things. Eddie listens when Buck goes on accidental tangents about subjects he finds interesting. Buck is genuinely delighted with stories about Christopher. They just sort of… Mesh?

By the end of the night, they’re making plans to hang out again, and Buck’s stomach can’t quite shake a fluttery, swooping feeling. Something that he’s only really felt before… Well, on dates. 

Which is strange for Buck because, well… Eddie is a man? And Buck didn’t know that another man could make him feel that way. 

Which probably means… Something. 

xi.

Buck and Eddie manage to hang out two more times by themselves, and once with Christopher, even, before the world shuts down. And Buck goes from the exciting thrill of a new friend/maybe crush to working alone in an empty library, filling online orders, and putting them in sterile pickup areas, with nothing at all to look forward to. 

It’s awful. It’s depressing. Buck genuinely struggles to get out of bed in the morning for the entire month of April. 

His sister is pregnant, and she can’t even stay with Chimney because of the risk. She’s alone. Buck’s alone. Everyone is boxed off from each other. 

They keep in contact. Eddie and Buck. Text. Social media. Buck does a few virtual homework help sessions with Chris out of working hours. But it’s weird. It’s like they almost had a friendship or something, and it just kind of gets stalled. 

All the nothingness means Buck has time. On and off work. He has nothing but time. It reminds him of the early years of his undergrad, where the coursework wasn’t challenging or interesting enough to keep his mind busy. He’d had to find ways to fill the time. Partying. Drinking. Sex. Working out. Those had been his options, then. Apart from working out, he doesn’t want to replicate the rest in a global pandemic. Which means Buck is left with way more hours to fill than even in undergrad. 

And he’s a librarian. So… One of the things he does to avoid going crazy? He reads. He researches. He learns. And one of the things he starts going all in on learning about? Human sexuality and attraction. Because the distance from Eddie doesn’t make Buck stop thinking about him. Doesn’t quell the curiosity, the thinking. The excitement each time a notification from Eddie lights up his phone. So Buck researches, and he tries to figure himself out. 

So, in the middle of a pandemic, where everyone is quarantined, and Buck is completely alone, he discovers he’s bisexual. Stellar timing. Really great work. Had he uncovered this little tidbit of identity earlier in his life? Maybe he’d be quarantining with a boyfriend or a husband or something cool like that. Since he’s historically fumbled all the women in his life. Who is he kidding? He’ll probably be the same with dudes. But until proven otherwise, he imagines he’ll be very smooth.

So. Bisexual. Alone in his studio apartment. Living through an unprecedented global emergency. Kind of thirsting over a man he won’t be able to see for months, and who he doesn’t even know is queer, so probably has no chance with. 

Buck is frustrated. 

He learns to cook. He buys a variety of plants. Tries and fails to learn to draw. Impulse adopts a cat; a Burmese he renames Begonia. Her previous name was Princess and to be honest she is way too relaxed for that designation. 

Nothing makes the sense of restlessness building in his chest go away. 

xii.

It’s late summer by the time he and Eddie can hang out again. At a distance. Outside, on a hike. Masks on if they get any closer. Eddie has a higher chance of infection on his job, and Buck wants to be safe. 

They fall back into their easy pattern of conversation and humor. It’s like whatever paused between them at the beginning of the year picks right back up without any issue. And Buck is relieved. Relieved and excited. Like they’re pointed towards a direction he hasn’t seen before, but is desperate to discover.

Buck tells Eddie all about the ever-changing library policies regarding the virus. Eddie tells Buck about childcare struggles. 

“With Carla caring for her dad full time, and my Abuela back in Texas, it’s been insane,” he admits. 

“And no aftercare programs at the library,” Buck says. 

“Or anywhere,” Eddie says. 

“Man, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

“It’s… Well, single parenting is never easy. But global catastrophe certainly adds to it.”

“Hey, if-if I can help…” Buck offers, a little aimlessly. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Is the library open to visitors yet?”

“Well, no,” Buck admits. “Soon, hopefully? But I mean, I can ask the head librarian - Janine - if he can, uh, sneak in. Masked up, of course.” “I mean, if he could. That’d be really helpful. He could do class from there, right?” Eddie asks. ”Only if it wouldn’t put you out!”

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

For the assumption ask game! Like you said in your ask to me, it's pretty hard to come up with something, especially something based purely on your fics, because we've talked about so much already 😂 but let's see...

I'm not sure how to explain this properly, but I think music ties into the way you love people? In a sense that you probably have a song for everyone you care about — and you'd treasure it forever if someone burned a CD especially for you

And I'm pretty sure you have a keen sense for the way people speak — in a sense that I *think* you pick up on people's little speech quirks very quickly and have a great time with it!

Oooh! These are both very interesting and insightful observations -- and both of them are correct!

I think music ties into the way I experience the world in general -- and that includes the people I love, yes! I definitely have at least one song/singer/even genre I associate to each important person in my life -- and sometimes even to recent friends or acquaintances. I also do this with characters and stories I love, but that's a bit more common, I believe 😂 oh, if someone were to burn a CD especially for me I'd propose marriage right then and there, ngl :')

I think you're spot on about the second assumption too, although it feels like something that should be confirmed from an outside source. I know I tend to pick up on accents very quickly -- whenever I spend even half an hour with someone who has a different accent than mine, I end up speaking just like them for a quite a while! 😂 it's not an intentional thing, just a thing I do, and it has been pointed out to me several times! Speech patterns and quirks fall into the same umbrella for me -- I pick them up easily and remember them well. And whenever I think about it, I have a lot of fun picking them apart and figuring out which phrases and cadences make someone sound like themselves :)

Kudos to you for your great insight! I'm kind of surprised these things can be picked up from my writing 😂 you're very observant! And thanks for sending your assumptions, this game is a lot of fun!

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[redo-rewind-if]

AAAAA yay thank you! anyways, i wanted to ask how would the ROs react to a MC who comes home crying?

Oooh, starting with a bit of an angsty one I see. Very nice. 🤭

V: Is the type to offer silent support. A shoulder to cry on and a kind ear to listen. All soft touches and gentle, careful words. Seems to know exactly what you need without you ever having to say it.

Amara: Immediately pulls you into a hug and leads you over to sit down. Tries to distract you and offers every comfort she can think of. Your favorite food, a good movie, anything to bring a smile back to your face.

August: The moment you walk through the door, August is by your side asking what happened and if he needs to kill someone (said jokingly, of course). Assuming MC doesn't want to talk about it, he'd simply offer to hold you for as long as you want, until you're all out of tears to cry.

[maxdurden]

I’m gonna have to go with Skrank for blorbo bingo please :))

blorbo bingo!!!

thank youu!! for the ask <3 i tried so hard to be nice about it,,, but the issue is i just rewatched the seven,,, and skrank really did ostentatia dirty and i do think people should be guillotined for being mean to my girl,,,

(in all reality, skrank seems like a messy guy in the way teenage boys tend to be. no shade to him, but i will squeeze him so hard his eyes pop out about it)

[hecatesbroom]

I thought you might like the fic asks! :) questions 6, 16 and 19 for you!

Haha I absolutely do! Thanks for the questions! <3

6. the word that appears the most in your current draft

My current draft is actually not a fanfic, but an original project I started the other day! (For anyone who's curious: my most used word there is "envelope"). But for some fic drafts I'm most near to finishing: it's "little", "flowers", "just", and "all" (for 4 golden girls wips respectively).

16. favourite place to write

I'm not too picky with the place I write in, but I prefer writing anywhere at home! Admittedly I don't really go anywhere else at the moment lmao but it's a lot easier to focus on what I'm writing when I'm home!

At the moment I usually sit on the couch, but I like to switch things up by moving to a table or my desk from time to time. It's mostly the couch though, because I tend to be very tired & it feels less exhausting to sit there for some reason! (Plus, it's easier on my back :)

Added bonus about the couch is that my cats tend to opt to sit on my lap instead of my laptop when I'm writing like they do at the table, haha.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

Oh dear -- I honestly don't know! Am I exposing myself too much here by saying I don't research much at all at the moment? I just wing it and usually hope for the best haha (so I mostly avoid writing about topics I'll have to research! I'm keeping a list of things to look into once I do have the time and brainpower again).

I think the one thing I looked up that hit hardest was the symbolism for ivy, for the appropriately titled Ivy. I'd written the whole thing before I figured: hey! maybe ivy works well as a symbol. And lo and behold: its meaning turned out to be even more heartbreaking than I'd hoped!

But mostly it's just a bit of fact checking :) or looking for appropriate songs, like the one for oh, my dear / our love is here to stay, for which I really wanted them to dance to a Sinatra song (because all girls mentioned they love him, so it only seemed appropriate)!

[saints-who-never-existed]

for the sleepover weekend ✨️ any book recommendations?? Fiction, nonfiction, obscure academic articles - all suggestions welcome! 📚

Thank you so much for this - it's been a joy to think about! :)

My literary tastes are fairly eclectic so to impose some order on proceedings, I've broken things down and recommended some specific works by some of my favourite authors.

Angela Carter I enjoy the weaving of magic and myth, feminism and sexuality throughout her often surreal works. I'd recommend The Magic Toyshop, The Passions of New Eve, and The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman.

Leonora Carrington Pioneering Surrealist artist and novelist who wrote frankly about her mental health struggles, and in a strangely comedic way about many other things. The Hearing Trumpet is a personal favourite, as is The Debutante.

Nan Shepherd Shepherd captures so well both the rhapsodic beauty of the Cairngorms and the idiosyncrasies of Scottish life in general. Try The Living Mountain and The Weatherhouse.

Mikhail Bulgakov I've long been partial to the darkly comedic nature of some Russian literature and Bulgakov is one of my favourites. The Master and Margarita, The Heart of a Dog, and A Young Doctor's Notebook are all great.

Scott Lynch His Gentleman Bastard series (though sadly not yet finished with only three of a total seven books released thus far) is incredible fun and literally makes me laugh out loud. I also feel he manages to offer really solid representation and worldbuilding, and avoids many common fantasy pitfalls.

[katsigian]

2, 10, 15 and 33 for Valen!!

Thank you so much for the asks! ♡ from this ask list

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word friend?Valen is pretty strict with his usage of 'friend'.

It takes quite a bit for him to become attached to someone and he'll really only gravitate towards certain kinds of people. So until he's sure that he can trust someone and they really are who they say they are, then he'll hold off on calling someone friend. A friend to him is someone he's let into his very small inner circle and he doesn't do that very often.

10. What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

This one's a little hard to answer because Valen isn't a very big talker when he first meets someone or if he's in a really busy public situation - not because he's shy or socially anxious, he's just introverted and prefers to save the chatty side of himself for his inner circle so his battery doesn't run out. But a really good way to get him to be chatty if someone wants to know him better, is to bring up one of his interests. Valen will warm up quickly to someone if he can talk to them about motorbikes, plants/growing plants, weapons/guns, MMA/kickboxing, or classical art. He's got extremely varied interests fgdkdhsks so if he's given a chance to talk about them, he'll go on and on about how to fix a consistently jamming rifle with pencil lead, or how if you submerge a wrinkly succulent in water it'll "drink" and get full again right in front of your eyes. Or if you're talking about bikes, he'll bring up how you can get grease and oil off your hands really easily with sugar. Just mix sugar and soap and it'll all scrub right off.

15. What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

His level of emotions and how relaxed he is. When Valen's at home and around his husband or friends, he's much more relaxed and comfortable showing his feelings. Valen laughs and smiles a lot, makes jokes, etc. It's pretty easy to tell when he's comfortable and showing his real self. He gets softer around the edges.

Valen is pretty reserved and aloof when he's out in public - though not completely stone-faced and he won't be a jerk or rude - and is always observant. While he's at work, that same reservedness remains, but he's more professional and focused. He rarely gets emotional while working because he is a professional contractor and has to act like one. Valen is almost always sure of himself, charismatic, and a little bit intimidating when he's out in public or around acquaintances.

33. How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

He normally doesn't. If Valen is confronted with someone he hates or dislikes, he tends to forego any and all niceties or social expectations. He has no qualms about letting someone know that they're on his bad side. Depending on the situation, for example if they're in a public, busy function where he needs to play nice, Valen won't do anything loud or violent, but he will be giving them the death glare and won't be polite.

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

101 this time?

She looks toward where he’s standing in front of an open doorway. 

“You coming?”

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” She hastily walks across the space to him and follows him through the door and it’s like she entered a completely different world. 

There’s still art on the walls but instead of a somewhat orderly collection of paints and canvas and art supplies, it looks like a music shop exploded all over the room. There are instruments everywhere, mounted to the walls and strewn over the floor and furniture. Carrie can see signs of a desk, couch, and at least one chair hiding beneath it all.

send me a number and i'll add that many words to a wip

[rhythmmortis]

inever played kid icarus but ngl pit and pittoo look like sora and vanitas to me

they're technically made the same way (since vanitas is connected to sora's heart through ventus, sora filling the void vanitas left, thats the reason he gave why they look alike and pittoo was made from the mirror of truth, a tool that supposedly reveals the true nature of things or something (its been a while since ive actually played it so i dont know if thats accurate) and pit breaks it, creating dark pit aka pittoo) and honestly a lot of the vanitas redemption au stuff ive seen from many people kinda has vanitas take the same dynamic that pittoo has!

contrary to his name and seemingly what people who only know him through smash bros think, pittoo isn't actually all that antagonistic! sure, he rivals pit sometimes but he doesn't have like. completely corrupt morals or anything. the game itself is SO interesting with how it discusses morality, faith and serving the gods, devotion, etc, and pittoo is no exception! pit serves palutena, the goddess of light and is devoted to her like a permanent intern (a joke they actually make in one of the chapters i believe), while pittoo supposedly shows an alternative or perhaps inner belief of pit's: that his faith in palutena isn't absolute and a part of him that wants freedom. there's a quote from a part where they team up (something that happens more than once), where pit declares that he's the servant to the goddess of light, and pittoo declares that he's servant to no other than himself!! it's exploring the dichotomy of freedom and subservience, what it means to be devoted to something that you put all your faith in it! and during [BIG BIG SPOILER PART OF THE GAME] pittoo actually calls out the gods on their selfishness!! he's such an interesting character (and as is pit!! he isn't some generic shonen protag who's always smiling and happy and typically stereotyped as stupid, he's genuinely quite smart and snarky and silly!!)

all this to say. YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY PLAY KID ICARUS UPRISING (or watch the cutscenes/a playthrough, the game is on 3ds and the controls aren't for everyone, but it's such a fun experience!! the characters all interact throughout the chapters too which is why i say a playthrough instead of just the cutscenes) ITS SUCH AN UNDERRATED GAME WITH AMAZING MUSIC, GREAT DIALOGUE AND VOICE ACTING, A VERY SURPRISING STORY, ENJOYABLE CHARACTERS (INCLUDING THE ANTAGONISTS THEYRE SO FUCKING FUN), COOL DESGINS, VARIED GAMEPLAY THAT DOESNT GET OLD, there is absolutely a reason why kid icarus fans are calling for a port/remake/sequel 10+ years after uprising released and thats because the game genuinely holds up so well even to this day. kid icarus SWEEP

[curator-on-ao3]

Do you write multi-chapter fics in order or do you jump around? And if you do go in order, do you go back to revise earlier chapters as you go or are they pretty much ready to post once you move on to the next chapter?

I love this question, anon, thank you! ❤️

I write multi-chaps in order — which I don’t necessarily recommend because a scene I may be three chapters away from writing will sing and dance in my mind and we’re not there yet. So I will add key elements of that scene to my outline, which actually can be good in the long run because by the time I finally write the scene, the words can flow fairly easily because the scene has been in my mind for so long (with outline memory aids for specifics).

I know some people write out of order, and I’m glad that method works for them. For me, I need the linear nature in which the story will (presumably) be read to inform the writing. As always, though, the best way to write is the way that works for the writer.

In terms of revision, I revise constantly. Little stuff, big stuff. I need the whole story written and edited before posting even the first chapter (with one exception because I knew exactly where I was going and felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t start posting). For me, the revision process can help sharpen things like foreshadowing and key themes. I find revision deeply rewarding. It’s like — I built a home and now I get to buff the floors and straighten the address numbers and make sure the cookies in the oven are done just in time to invite in anyone who wants to share the home I built for whomever might want to be there.

[pokimoko]

hiii--- i know you mostly post/write about other fandoms but i just want to say that graceful degradation is probably one of THE best fics ive read of all time and i love it so so so much, it had me screaming into my pillow at like 2 in the morning. its such a unique and creative take on his backstory and the ANGSSTTT. oh my god...u are a genius

Thank you so much!!! Portal 2 was something I never imagined myself writing for, but I'm very glad I did, because writing that fic was a blast. It came out of my fondness for 'Flowers For Algernon' (which I read many years ago but has been stuck in the back of my mind ever since) and my need for a Portal fic that suited my particular niche of interests (which included, of course, my dear old friend angst). I'm so glad to hear you think of it so highly! That really means a lot 🥰