#thank you so much Leah!!!!

[creative-hanyou-girl]

I don't know if anyone else feels this way but I think a big reason why I'm so chill about the changes made to the PJO show from the books is because I kind of look at each other as their own seperate canon.

Like, I read a lot of anime and manga, and anime adaptations have a huge habit for changing plot points for various reasons, and as a fan of said anime and manga, I've found that I can enjoy both versions of the same story even with the differences when I look at them as their own universe or canon. That's not to say I don't want them to be faithful or true to the source material, but if a scene or situation plays out differently for a logical or entertaining reason, than I can still appreciate that deviation from the manga even if I still like the other original version of that part more. And I can even like the reversal way if I feel an anime does something better than even the manga. But if I want to, I can look at certain moments as more canon than others because I got 2 different versions of that same scene or moment.

And, I don't know, I kind of apply that reasoning to the PJO series as well, mainly with the books, the show, and even the musical (not the movies put that right back where it came from). So far I'm loving the TV show, and while I miss some of the things they changed (like the pink poodle), this adaptation really is doing a great job with staying true to the heart and spirit of the original book that I personally am not even really bothered by the changes, especially when I remember that the books will always still be there with it's own version, or canon, of events.

Like, I will say 1 thing I adore in the books that isn't really in the show is the fact that a lot of Percy and Annabeth's "rivalry" during TLT has more to do with the rivalry between Poseidon and Athena. I just really like on how this adds a level of "forbidden friendship/love" to their relationship 'cause I personally eat the forbidden relationship trope up, especially when it's done well like with Percabeth.

Yet, even if this isn't really the reason percabeth have beef with each other in the show, I can still appreciate and enjoy that according to the show's canon, they have issues because they genuinely have problems with each other as actual people rather than their parents' rivalry, because at the end of the day, that's the PJO TV show canon, and I can always turn to the books for that version of Percabeth's "rivalry", as that is the PJO book canon.

Same goes for the characters too. I will always have and love my dark haired Percy and blond haired Annabeth in the books, but I can also welcome and love Walker's Percy and Leah's Annabeth from the show. And so far, they along with Aryan are KILLING IT as those characters.

I can love both versions of the characters.

I can love both versions of the same story.

I can look at both versions as they own seperate canon or mix them together if I so wish too (especially since both versions of PJO are written by the same guy)

And that's ok. The adaptation doesn't have to be a complete copy of the books. It doesn't have to have things play out eactly the same way. The characters don't have to look exactly the way they are described as in the books. And that's ok. I will still always have the books to love and appreciate, but I can also start to love and appreciate the new adaptation for it's new spin and twists to the same story that sets it apart as it's own canon while still staying true to the spirit of its predecessor.

Anyway, sorry if I'm not making a lot of sense. I just think the people complaining about the changes in the show are looking at it all the wrong way. The show has it's own canon just as the books have their own canon, or even the musical. At the end of the day, isn't that kind of cool to have different versions of the same story and characters? Doesn't it give you so many more options to look at the story in different ways that you can prefer or choose from? Doesn't it give you new versions of canon that you choose from? And really, as long as the PJO adaptation, or any adaptation for that matter, stays true to the heart and spirit of the original story and characters, do the changes made really matter?

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I dunno if anyone's asked this already, so I'm writing it anonymously

How do you think the bachelorettes or bachelors would react if they found out you turned their kids into birds?

Oh wow...

Ok, let me take a quick look at my masterlist... Nope, I don't see such a question, so it will be a new headcanon 😀

I also have a large number of bachelors asks, so to be fair I'll make this one about bachelorettes. I hope you don't mind dear anon, since you asked "or" (I'm not lazy, I'm trying to be fair!) Anyway, thanks for ask 👋

⚠️ Warning: angst, mention of blood, mention of violence, loss of children, nervous breakdown

Leah:

"You did not do anything bad to our children. You wouldn't dare. You did NOT do that to OUR CHILDREN!!!!" If Leah had one of her sculptor's tools at hand, she would immediately turn into a deadly weapon. That even an easel will strike a man just as hard as a sword if it is in the hands of a furious and in tears mother who has just lost her children. Somebody's blood will be spilled on the floor...

Penny:

When Penny heard about what the Farmer had done to their children, she just dropped to her knees. She stared glassy-eyed at the man she thought was the love of her life, not understanding why this had happened. Hysterical, she would crouch in a corner and scream loudly. To Penny, her family, her spouse, her children, is the treasure of her life, and what happened made Penny's mind wobble.

"Mother..." *hic* "Mooootheer..."

Haley:

Screaming and throwing things. Haley can't control her emotions. And who can blame her for reacting this way when the one she married essentially killed their precious children? Not even death, but a fate worse than death, to wander like the damned, in the body of a short-lived bird, at the hand of their own parent... Screaming and throwing things. Haley wished she wasn't so helpless right now... That she could get her kids back, that she could punch her (already ex) spouse with all her might, that she... She...

Screaming and throwing things... What else could she do...?

Abigail:

Abigail, in utter shock, heard clearly her inner voice, which kept saying one word: run. And she ran. Without stopping, she ran to the forest, to the tower, to that strange wizard man. Abigail run because she needed help. She needs help to get her children back. She needs help to find out what happened to her husband. Because what stood before her in their house is not even a human being, it cannot be...

Emily:

"Turn into pigeons? Oh, you bought pigeon costumes for our little ones? That's very nice of you, I remember they wanted animal costumes." Only Emily's smile slid lower and lower every second as her spouse stood before her, not saying a word. "Honey..." Her voice broke. "Please tell me you bought costumes for them. Please...Tell me what you bought..." She could say no more, and her spouse's blank and indifferent stare made the situation even more tense.

"Yoba, help me...."

Maru:

But that's... It defies all logic. Dark magic? What do they mean "turn into pigeons"? What are they talking about? Where... are her children? Maru thinks her spouse has a fever. She wants to stay calm, not show aggression, and just ask what happened and where the children are. But another part of her, her instinct for self-preservation, is screaming that she needs to run to safety. Run home to her parents and stepbrother. Run for help. Why can't she stop shaking...?

[apollosfavkiddo]

screaming and crying and blushing and kicking my feet

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU YOURE ALL PERFECT I LOVE ALL OF YOU

[mercurycft]

I'VE MISSED YOU - UPDATE <3

happy humpday everyone! I hope you are well and have been reading your hearts out over the last few weeks. I wanted jump on and give you all a little update on my absence.

to start, thank you all so much for the constant support and love in both my anonymous messages, as well as messages from friends and the non-stop stream of love on all my work even in my absence! - i appreciate you all so so much!

life over the last few weeks has been stressful, and filled with so many emotions. i finally figured out that maybe i put so much effort into my online personality and writings because i was actually really not pleased with who and where i am away from tumblr, the internet and my favourite woso community. In the past weeks, i have redirected my current course of life and i now am feeling so so so much better.

i decided to remove myself from my university until september, get a full time job in a sector which fascinates me and leave home for a little while. as a result, i am doing so much better and the difference a few weeks/a month makes is unbelievable.

i cannot tell you all how grateful i am for each of my readers and followers and friends i have made on this strange, but beautiful app and if you will have me - i will be back to my writings pronto!!

if you made it this far, thank you.. enjoy what's to come.. i promise it is 'TOO SWEET' after all your patience. as usual, love always - RG x

[lavellenchanted]

13, 16, 24?

13. What character would be your best friend in real life?

Answered here.

16. Rant about anything book related

I have so many book rants in me you have no idea a lot of which are more publishing industry related rather than reader related but inspired by an Instagram reel I saw earlier, I'm gonna rant for a minute about how much I hate the fanfic-ifcation of published original fiction and the fact that fiction marketing now seems to almost solely consist of paint-by-tropes.

So, this Instagram reel was an book blogger recommending a new fiction book (one that is literally called The Fake Dating Game) and listing "5 reasons to read this book". By the end of the video, I knew the book involved fake dating and a game show but I still know nothing about what the actual plot of the book is. Tropes are building blocks, they're not plot.

The reason talking about tropes with fanfiction works is because fanfiction is rooted in the idea that you are writing about an existing property. Your readers will already know who these characters are, be familiar with their core traits and values and what's shaped them. The point of fanfic is to drop those characters in different scenarios and tease out how different circumstances work with those core traits and values and how you can map their histories/pasts into these new stories. There is a baseline understanding and an already established interest.

You cannot do that with original fiction. With original fiction we don't know anything about the characters or setup and just listing tropes doesn't tell us anything about what you're doing with them.

To use an analogy:

Fanfic is like having had a full meal and knowing what it's supposed to taste like and what works, and then playing with the recipe a bit and switching up ingredients to see how it comes out and creating something new that's still recognisably tied to the original dish. So of course you're gonna talk about what ingredients you're using.

Marketing original fiction with tropes is trying to convince someone to try a new meal they've never had before, but only reeling off a list of ingredient and not explaining anything about how you're cooking them or what the end product is.

Honestly I'm a point now where if I see a book being shared just with a list of tropes and no actual plot description I'm gonna refuse to read it out of spite - but I also can't entirely blame the industry because I work in book marketing, I know how hard it is, and the books that 'go viral' and sell in their thousands are unfortunately the ones that can be packaged up into neat little boxes and tropes that get attention on TikTok and Instagram, regardless of the actual quality of the book.

24. First book(s) you remember being obsessed with

Answered here but shout out as well to the Mallory Towers books, which I absolutely adored.

book asks

[nerice]

u may not know this abt me but like half my ocs are bootleg furrybait. sorry

[andi-is-bored]

ok i missed the last few episode but i’m now caught up with percy jackson in preparation for the final.

i’m so scared.

[acorrespondence]

omg I'm so glad you reblogged this! 19, 32, 40, and any other one you want to answer!

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

Oh man, I really have no idea when or why I started writing because I don’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t doing it! I started reading at three (I have a touch of the ol’ hyperlexia, as is fairly common with autism) so I suppose it must have been after that. Maybe my first year of kindergarten? (Yes, I went twice.) There were definitely bumps; when I was around ten, my dialogue was all “he said, she said” and existed pretty much as islands of quotation marks in the middle of blocks of description (when I say my biggest issue has never been dialogue or narration but the integration of the two, I’m not joking, though I like to think I’ve improved since then).

Anyway, when my dad read one of my stories and pointed this out, it led to something that my parents still joke about to this day: an opening sequence where I painstakingly described every member of a family around a table and their exact relationship to the narrator as they each, one by one, contributed a single sentence (or two, or a fragment of one) to the conversation, before the next person in the circle was introduced. This lasted for like two and a half Microsoft Word pages. Twelve point font, single spaced.

32. Answered here!

To make up for that (and because you offered :)) — 17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text. (This one’s for i put this heavy heart in you)

When Boyd and Raylan were in the first grade, they grew bean sprouts in science class. Boyd overwatered his, so he swapped out his plant with Raylan’s when no one was looking. Tragically, it died. Raylan knew Boyd switched their plants, but he pretended to think it was the little girl Boyd had a crush on so that Boyd would have to pretend to be mad at her on Raylan’s behalf or else admit his treachery.

Many years later, two-year-old Pemberley dropped an entire scoop of ice cream on the kitchen floor. When Boyd got back with the mop, most of the scoop (aside from what had been directly touching the ground) had disappeared. Boyd obviously blamed the child, and Raylan is a horrible person who let him believe this lie. But Pemberley ratted on him, and Raylan has never lived down this shame.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

This poem has been attributed to Margaret Atwood, but the page where I originally found it has disappeared off the internet and I’ve never been able to find any other proof of its existence aside from a woefully unsourced livejournal post. It’s very beautiful, either way.

You Heard the Man You Love

You heard the man you love

talking to himself in the next room.

He didn't know you were listening.

You put your ear against the wall

but you couldn't catch the words,

only a kind of rumbling.

Was he angry? Was he swearing?

Or was it some kind of commentary

like a long obscure footnote on a page of poetry?

Or was he trying to find something he'd lost,

such as the car keys?

Then suddenly he began to sing.

You were startled

because this was a new thing,

but you didn't open the door, you didn't go in,

and he kept on singing, in his deep voice, off-key,

a purple-green monotone, dense and heathery.

He wasn't singing for you, or about you.

He had some other source of joy,

nothing to do with you at all—

he was an unknown man, singing in his own room, alone.

Why did you feel so hurt then, and so curious,

and also happy,

and also set free?

(Questions here)

[creative-hanyou-girl]

If the PJO show gets renewed for future seasons, I really hope the audience doesn't give the child actors crap for being a little older than their characters in the show. I'm already seeing some people be like "they better film season 2 and 3 ASAP NOW!!!!" and like, I get that as fans you want the characters to still pass as certain ages, but its neither the child actors nor the PJO crew's fault if things get delayed a bit, especially when they haven't even been given the greenlight to film yet.

And another thing: I don't want the cast and crew to feel pressured by being on a deadline, whether its given by Disney themselves or by the audience pressuring them to start filming as soon as possible. Especially the child actors like Walker, Leah, and Aryan. We've seen on how deadlines can affect the overall quality or payoff of a piece of media with Frozen 2. But more importantly is the fact that the cast and crew have lives OUTSIDE of PJO and television that they deserve to experience. They are not machines who exist purely for us, the fans', own benefit. Especially the child actors.

I think it'd be great if we could get a season 2 or 3 renewed soon, but I also know that the PJO people can't do much until given the greenlight. Walker, Leah, and Aryan can't help that they are growing up. And again, putting deadlines on the cast and crew can really effect the quality of a season, as well as be very stressful on said cast and crew, especially the younger actors.

To put it short, be kind guys. If the show is renewed, be kind to the young actors and don't give them crap for being like, 1 or 2 years older than the characters they are portraying. They can't help the fact that they are growing up. And putting a deadline on them and the PJO staff would just add more stress on everyone involved and can effect the quality of the end result. Again, they've all got lives outside of PJO and TV too, and deserve to experience those lives without pressure from fans.

[leiaorganicsolocup]

disordering eating discussion and recovery in the tags

[faerune]

"did i say you could stop?" for argmond teehee >:)

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!oc [argella baratheon] summary: the red keep's secret passages are a great place to get freaky with your wife...as long as you can keep quiet. warnings: smut

[AO3]

The Red Keep held secrets lost to all, save for the rats.

Rumors had always swirled through cutlery cooks and maids about the secret doors and passageways that wound through the keep; a dark, wet labyrinth created by a cruel king. It had taken Argella a year to find her own entrance, tucked into a dead-end hall behind a tapestry near her rooms. She didn’t venture far; creeping a little deeper each time and marking the walls with a stub of chalk in case Maegor had created these to trap his enemies as much to shield himself. 

When Aemond had found that Argella was nearly as familiar with the catacombs as he was, the passages had become their refuge.

It was a burning, sticky day out and the only relief was the cool stone of the keep and the shade it provided. Around noon, Argella returned from her hunt and stabled Balerion. The big, grateful beast nearly put his entire head into the fresh trough of water the stablehands poured for him. 

Argella had left early this morning, when the rains from last night still cast a thick, soupy fog over the sleeping city. She’d rode into the forests surrounding King’s Landing, aimless and not particularly searching for quarry. For Balerion’s size, his heavy footsteps were quieter than most and he had an uncanny knack for avoiding dead branches on the ground that would surely crack and send prey scattering. 

It felt good to get away for a few hours, even if she returned empty-handed. Argella found herself restless as of late. 

Sweat slick beneath her high collar, she gave thanks to the armorguard that took her bow and quiver from her. Her fingers peeled off lovingly worn leather gloves as she climbed the steps into the keep. It was at least ten degrees cooler inside and as the sun rose, bursting from the shrouded fog, the servants had pulled back laced curtains to stave off the harshness of the sun.

Lost in thought, Argella barely noticed the slight movement of a woven tapestry — a rendition of Aegon’s first landing in Westeros — and the hand that snuck out to catch her by the waist as she passed. 

Argella gasped sharply, sucked into the tapestry and into one of the cool, dim passages. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness but there was a form there with her, unknown but tall and unwavering. Fear chilled her bones for a moment, mind-racing. She reached for the dagger she kept on her belt. Argella was not a fighter and the only person she had cut with a blade had been herself when she’d gotten too careless dressing quarry. The figure caught her movement with ease, grabbing at her wrists and pressing her against the cold stone wall. 

A pale purple eye rendered violet under the dim light stared down at her.

“Bastard,” she spat breathlessly, angered even so by his smirk in the dark.

“You weren’t there when I woke this morning,” Aemond hummed, pressing his lean body to hers. Argella so wanted to melt into his arms, give him what he wanted but her body was still bristling from the perceived threat. Her chin tilted up — in part a gesture of pride and so she could meet his eyes when he loomed above her. A knee came to rest between her thighs, covered in her riding leathers still. An offering, a temptation. She could smell his breath on her, that distinct smell of mint he chewed often, tucked into his cheek.

“Believe it or not, I do have other things to do than stay in bed and service you, my prince,” Argella replied, voice dripping with tart venom. 

Aemond let out a little hum in answer, his delicate fingers brushing the heft of her braid off her shoulder. Deft fingers opened a few buttons to expose her neck to him. Her heart had not stopped bounding, adrenaline dizzying inside her veins. It made the cool touch of his fingers trailing over her collarbone raise goosebumps on her overheated skin.

“You have to admit,” Aemond began, a shift of his body and his knee pressed further between her legs, his voice coming breathily against her ear. “That is quite a thought.”

Argella’s body flushed with a molten heat at the thought. Tied to his bed with the silk ropes he favored, aching and slick the entire day — save for the few times he returned to sate himself with her.

She laughed up at him.

“I’d certainly like to see you try,” Argella told him matter-of-factly. Their warring over dominance was often just as good as the sex. 

She could feel his smile against her neck. Aemond soaked in the smell of her, wrapping a hand around the base of her braid and tugging her head to the side to lavish his mouth over her pulse. Argella sighed, eyes fluttering shut, the fingers of her free hand grasping at the smooth velvet of his shirt. There was a nip of his teeth, a shock of pleasure down to the base of her spine. His hand tightened around her captured wrist, pining it to the concrete painfully. Just enough so that it grounded her, made her head swim as he loved at her skin.

“Aemond,” she breathed impatiently, pushing against the vice-grip of his hand. He nudged his knee deeper between her legs in response, pressing the neatly sewn seam of her trousers against her clit that was already aching. 

Argella sighed wantonly, her hips moving of their own accord, needing any kind of pressure he would give her. Little unstoppable rolls of her hips against his leg, the wetness between her legs slicking her underclothes. He would never let her hear the end of it if she came like this, rutting against his thigh but she just couldn't stop.

“I can’t go through the day without having you,” he murmured, grasping desperately at her ass. “All I can think of then is the taste of you, the noises you make on my cock.”

Argella grinned victoriously into the darkness, a little whimper slipping from her curled lips. His teeth scraped at the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver. The heat of her body, the slick stick of sweat over her skin and the coolness of the stone made the sensations all the sweeter. 

Not to mention his admission made victory seem within a fingertip’s length.

Aemond finally released her wrist and it throbbed with her cunt in time. Pleasure and pain washing over her like rain. He wasted no time with his wants, ripping open the button of her pants and raking them down to just above her knees. 

Before he dipped low to kneel before her, Argella caught him, a rough, messy kiss between them.

"Get on with it," she murmured against their kiss, loving the flash of anger in his gaze.

She bit at his lip, then slid her fingers into his hair as he sank into the darkness.

Aemond tucked his chin between her legs and slipped his tongue between her thighs. 

She moaned at the sudden press of his wet tongue against her, arching back against the stone and into the pressure. The laps at her cunt were purposeful and hungry, his hands coming to hold her hips in an iron grip. Argella could not move, her legs held tight together by her leathers. Instead, she quivered and rocked as best she could against his talented tongue. 

Aemond was not a man to do things in half-measures. He was focused, precise in his way and the way he pleasured her was no different.

He always teased Argella first. He brushed his tongue along her cunt, gathering her wetness, lazing through the soft folds of her. All the while, he avoided the place where she truly wished he would bathe his attentions. He curled his long tongue inside her and buried his face deeper between her thighs. Argella stifled the noises that threatened at the back of her throat but followed him all the same, a needy beggar under his touch. She pulled at the strands of his white hair with roughness that toed a line. Aemond groaned into her at the feeling, fingers tightening on the fleshy curves of her hips. 

Argella’s little whimpers and sighs proved harder and harder to quiet, her breath ragged between her lips. Aemond’s tongue licked through her, exploratory and if she didn’t know him better: without purpose. It was merely his own purpose with which he moved. He wanted to taste her, smell her, make her beg. 

Argella tightened her jaw, a groan humming through clenched teeth. Her fingers pulled at his hair, insistent, trying desperately to rock against his tongue. She could feel his eye on her, even in the darkness. Her skin was hot and flushed, a new slick of sweat forming beneath the structured fabric of her overcoat. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. 

“Aemond,” she hissed, a cry tight at the back of her throat.

Suddenly, his mouth was gone and she let out a keening, pitiful whimper just before his fingers slid inside her.

“Shshsh,” Aemond hummed against her belly mockingly, crooking his fingers and nearly pulling her towards him at the gesture he made. Argella could hear the pride in his voice, the inky black ego that sat beneath both their ribs. She was so damned wet, dripping over his long dexterous fingers as they moved inside her.

“Don’t want anyone to hear now, do we?” he asked as if he were truly worried about such a thing. The idea made her body flush even hotter, a living flame he stoked and nurtured.

He was an awful, terrible man and gods, did she love fucking him.

Aemond’s tongue dipped between her thighs again, tongue flicking over her clit. The sudden touch made her whine again, pulling desperately against the tight band of her pants wrapped around her thighs. It was all so easy to forget everything except her lust for him, so blinding and persistent. 

Her knees and thighs ached; both from riding this morning and from holding herself up against his onslaught. She longed to be laid back in his bed, her thighs spread wide for him or her thighs tight around his beautiful face but she couldn’t deny the burn of the ache in her back, the heart thrumming wildly in her chest. The wrongness of him taking her here, the urgency they both held for each other.

What would the people say if they knew their prince was fucking his wife in the passages like a common whore?

“Is that what you wanted?” Aemond asked, his smirk against her wetness.

“Shut up,” Argella snapped though the words came out far less vicious than she intended. More a whine of pleasure than anything.

Aemond simply chuckled and buried his face against her again, sucking softly at her clit then rolling his tongue against her. All the while, his fingers pumped inside her with a steadily increasing tempo. Her knees threatened to buckle, her breath was tight in her throat.

He stood suddenly, clamping a tight hand over her mouth. In a distant, other world, she could hear the rattling of chainmail, the click of iron boots against the limestone floors of the hall coming towards them. His fingers still worked inside her furiously, curling and pulling and oh-

Argella met his eyes, breathing raggedly against his hand. The look he gave her was something she had seen many times, but would never quite get used to. Want. Raw, unadulterated, so passionate it almost seemed angry. Anger for wanting her like this. Anger for being bared so raw and needing. 

Argella had felt something familiar many times before.

As her release snapped through her like a shock, she shuddered, knees buckling. She needed to scream, she needed to cry—

Argella bit down on the curve of Aemond’s palm and groaned deep and raw. She looked up at him, pleading, wanting, his. Every nerve in her body had sparked, cascading through her in a brilliant, white hot pleasure that warred with the weight of him against her, the flesh between her teeth, the pain in her body. Instead, her world shifted right. His fingers left her quickly with the slightest, slick sound and he pressed his hand to the curve of her belly, holding her between himself and the wall while she trembled against him. 

As Argella came back to herself, Aemond lowered his hand, flexing it to test the pain of the mark her teeth left with an idled, curious expression. The only sound was the raggedness of her breathing and the soft word of the guards just outside the passage. 

Aemond seemed resigned, satisfied. He cupped her cheek and brought her in for a sudden, sweet kiss that she accepted dazedly without insult. 

Her fingers trailed over the smooth velvet of his shirt, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, the weight of him in the dim light. 

She felt his nose brush against hers. 

Aemond began to pull her leathers up for her, ties curled around his long, glistening fingers he had just used to bring her to pleasure.

Argella caught him by the waist, pulling him back to her.

“The guards-” he told her, the cut of his smirk menacing in the dark. 

“Did I say you could stop?” Argella asked boldly, fingers running down him to the leather of his belt. 

Aemond pressed his face to her neck as she undid his buckle with practiced fingers. Argella’s body ached again with want and promise.

“They’ll hear,” he rumbled, his grin almost plain to hear. Aemond was intrigued at her suggestion. He kissed lovingly at her neck. 

Argella might allow a draw between them if this was the prize.

“Let them.”

[arklay]

tagged by @nuclearstorms & @leviiackrman to do this – thank you both ily! ♡

tagging: @aartyom @brujah @calenhads @camelliagwerm @cultistbase @denerims @faarkas @florbelles @indorilnerevarine @liurnia @montliyets @risingsh0t @shadowglens @solasan @steelport @swordcoasts @virassan @voerman @windupcharibert @wrymbloods & anyone else who would like to do this, feel free to say i tagged you! ♡

OC INTRO SONG.

rules: pick one (or all) of your ocs from any fandom and post the song you think would play when they are introduced to the audience and why.

lab of the damned - zhenlan kang // dance of death - andrew bird

okay so the first time diana would be introduced would be that moment where she kicked wesker out of her lab <3 but just thinking lab of the damned would mainly be during the whole scene where they are talking, like the tension of it all, the mystery, the intrigue... you know. and that is the song that plays in some areas of the nest when you're just running around, so like the ambience of it right?

but in terms of what song would play after that would be dance of death. like the beginning being that build-up when she starts questioning his clearance level then actually motions for him to get out, and then when the song picks up it would be when he and will are walking back to annette. chef's kiss. it's all about the tension besties. and that song name... she was really playing with fire talking to someone like him the way she did, and that of course starts their little game

then the second half of dance of death would play again (over the top of and then replacing the actual music used) during one of umbrella's galas a few months later, possibly for the holidays or something, and of course obligatory dance scene between two people who kind of not really hate each other but are rivals in a sense... you see what i mean. am i getting this vision across? them making little snarky remarks at each other during it. do you see? the way i am losing my mind over this

[morvaris-archive]

i was tagged by @arklay to make some ocs in this picrew; thank you so much leah! ♡

ilya morvaris (bg3, they) || raella laelithar (bg3, she) kamila de vos (vtm parliament of knives, she) || candy (vtm night roads, they) ellie ryder (mea, she) || vanya tabris (dao, she)

tagging: @aartyom @avallachs @ianeiras @brujah @cultistbase @camelliagwerm @nuclearstorms @aelyosos @reaperkiller @steelport @dantesparda @montliyets @shadowglens @swordcoasts & whoever else wants to do this!

[crossbackpoke-check]

wait you got me so invested in the stammer & heddy tailor au....

this is my standard disclaimer that i have never posted a fic on ao3* and for however much i say “au” i truly mean that it’s a universe that lives in my head & i am absolutely delighted to tell you all about, all the time <3 if it helps i ALSO got me so invested in the heddy & stammer tailor au

ok now that the author’s note is out of the way here’s some notes about the not!fic heddy & stammer tailor au:

stammer as the tailor from gent’s playbook, very reserved, quiet, with an excellent eye for details (honestly the evidence i have for his style sense is just that he’s best friends with pk subban so it has to be there somewhere if only by proxy irl) is hired by victor hedman, star of the tampa bay lightning who is every other tailor’s nightmare to dress (huge, opinionated, fashionable)

heddy is decently well-known throughout the league for being very well-dressed & becomes quietly well known for also being one of his new tailor’s favorite loyal customers [heddy has the nicest fabrics. he has his suits the first day a new collection drops & e v e r y o n e is jealous]

stammer’s business booms after heddy takes a chance on him as his first big client & promotes him, heddy sees him grow in popularity & get more clients

heddy also moonlights as a model for stammer’s suits on instagram, initially to help him grow his business because then he won’t have to pay for a model and then because he’s over there all the time anyway because they’re dating (that’s why the model’s face is never in the pictures)

there’s not really a plot to this besides the vague idea of a plot where stammer makes heddy his lucky suit that he wins the cup in & sews a special little tag into the lining of his jacket that says i love you

because love sometimes is picking out the perfect right color pocket square to match your husband’s beautiful suit that you fitted like a kiss to the curves of his huge body

& also sometimes love is making your beautiful husband who makes you beautiful clothing enjoy nice things for himself once in a while, like the fancy watch you bought him or the nice suit you custom-ordered for him (from him) just so you could take it off of him

[lestatlioncunt]

SPARROW for my beloveds vesper & fenix (ignore the second r ofc but pleaaaaaaaase)

SPARROW..YOUR MIND LEAH ILY

Headcanon Game - A to Z (NS/FW)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

i would say 2 tops, 3 on a really really good day fdkjsfn fenix gets tired easily by it while vesper by uh career? as a boxer mainly, got to exercise her stamina a whole lot, she’s truly a war machine. also fenix burns most of his energies to try and last as long as possible since vesper’s teasing can go running for a lot and i mean. he’s just a little guy, please don’t make him strain too much miss v. vesper might have a subtle orgasm denyal thing going on

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on the mood but mainly both prefer to go fast and hard, fenix likes to go at it like a rabbit (omg bunny boy....) and vesper loves to comply especially when she’s on top. the times when they go slow is mostly to tease each other: this is something vesper does mainly, when she’s starts to ride him she loves to go slow just to hear him softly beg for more and grip her hips. fenix does the whole slow-to-tease way less, if he has to make her struggle a bit then it’s going to be before he actually gets inside of her, when that point is reached he just wants to fuck hard, peace and love on planet earth 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

fenix wants to cuddle and maybe kiss a bit and maybe hear a few sweet words, please cuddle your insufferable man he needs to be treated right. vesper would like a bit of pillow talk, makes everything more personal for her, she wants to crack a few jokes and laugh a bit and thank god fenix is good at making her laugh. first thing they do is the cigarette-after-sex thing, oh how stereotypical of them but at this point has become a habit (mainly because of fenix, he feels so sexy, he feels like he’s the moment huh)

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

they surely are on for some experimentations unless it’s something they dislike right off the bat. i guess they would both like a bit of risk, something that could get their blood pumping a little too fast, but nothing too crazy. something they do is public sex so the risk of getting caught makes them satisfied enough, maybe hearing someone swear at them as they get it on in a bathroom. yea, it both scratches fenix’s love for a little risk and vesper’s voyeurism

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

oh besties. fenix loves to perform oral, literally the best thing he could ever do during sex is oral. almost all the time they have sex he needs to “get a little taste”, he gets so into it he’s rocking his hips against the bed. he’s very good at it too, mr. pussy eater extraordinaire. also vesper tends to pull his hair when he’s working his magic and that’s such a win for him

vesper prefers receiving sjhfkj because i mean. yea. she has the right to, fenix is good at that. she doesn’t enjoy that much giving oral to fenix simply because most of the time fenix gets too smug about it, he has the mouth of a sailor and vesper simply goes (flustered emoji, dying emoji), she basically gets very embarassed about it and she HATES being embarassed. she still gives him oral but not as often as fenix does it to her, he doesn’t complain too much, it feels like a special treat for him and if he asked she would do it

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

okay listen. LISTEN. fenix can NEVER shut up, like he already talks and talks in his daily life but when they get down to be dirty and all? LORD. he basically does most of the dirty talk, it’s impossible to beat him at that, vesper might be the one in charge and he will still be the one to say the most raunchy things back to her. calling himself vesper’s “fucktoy”, begging, saying how bad he wants her, begging to get fucked, so on so forth he can neeeever shut up. on one hand, vesper loves to hear that mouth run and on the other hand sometimes she just wants him to shut up and boy, she will make him shut up. she either grabs roughly his chin and orders him to shut it or directly slaps a hand over his mouth to just keep him quiet as she fucks him. MAYBE..JUST MAYBE fenix likes this treatment and that’s why he’s always talking and talking :)

[daenerys-targaryen]

I’ve been following you for years and I just have to say that I really admire how you remain positive and happy. of course you have moments but for the most part I feel like you’re just a genuinely sunshine person to be around