#x; Self Discovery

[liam-summers]

Bangel + Cookie Dough 🍪

“Angel. I do…sometimes think that far ahead.”

[kittyfrisk9]

Idea Dp x dc - Amnesia

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't understand the idea.

...

What an unpleasant color. That was the first thought he had upon waking up in a hospital and seeing the white walls.

They told him he had amnesia due to the damage caused to his head. It wasn't that he had simply forgotten everything; he still remembered what common objects like a door or an apple were. He also knew what eating, going to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, or any other daily activity was. But he simply couldn't remember... certain things.

Like his name, important events in his life, people... He couldn't remember anyone. Not even the boy who threw himself on him, crying and apologizing, saying that all of this was his fault for being too slow.

Apparently, this boy was his boyfriend.

And he was right, because something in his chest twisted when he saw that cute boy crying. He doubted it was his heart; it was more like a kind of feeling, a sort of instinct that hated seeing that cute boy cry.

"It's okay, don't cry, it's okay, I'm fine." He hugged the other man, stroking his hair and saying sweet things to try to calm him down.

Jason Todd started crying again.

...

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't understand the idea.

[lordofdestructionm]

Hmmm...Interesting

"Subject to adjustment as the plot carries on, and characters are further explored"

Newt just casually throwing a life preserver to the Zibwick shippers?

Maybe I should still hold out a little hope for the delicious heartbreaking angst of one-sided vikdecai from Mordecai "repression" Heller?

Probably not XD

And yet...

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Shattered Heart Part II 

Summary: 

Y/N and Azriel continue to struggle with their unspoken love and the heartbreak it brings. As Azriel distances himself further, Y/N makes a decision that could change everything. Will they ever find their way back to each other, or are they destined to remain broken and alone?

I wrote this for @vanserrasimp who requested a part 2.

Word Count: 1504

Warnings: Intense heartbreak, emotional distress

Y/N:

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N felt the weight of Azriel's absence more acutely with each passing moment. She had hoped that time would dull the pain, but instead, it sharpened it, making every interaction, every shared space in the House of Wind a reminder of what she had lost—or rather, what she had never truly had.

She threw herself into training, hoping the physical exertion would exhaust her enough to numb her emotions. But even in the heat of battle practice, her mind wandered to Azriel. She saw him everywhere—in the shadows that danced at the edge of her vision, in the quiet moments when she thought she was alone, in the lingering silence that filled the spaces where his laughter used to be.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, Y/N found herself alone in the training room. She collapsed onto the floor, her body aching and her mind a whirlwind of turmoil. She stared at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Why can't I let him go?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "Why can't I move on?"

The room remained silent, offering no answers. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely. She thought about Azriel—about the way he had stood outside her room that night, about the pain in his eyes, about the words that had remained unspoken between them.

She knew she couldn't continue like this. The pain was consuming her, eating away at her spirit. She needed to make a decision, to find a way to move forward. She couldn't keep living in this limbo, caught between hope and despair.

With a heavy heart, she made her way to her room. She sat at her desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. Her hand trembled as she began to write, pouring her heart and soul into the letter.

Azriel,

I don't know if you'll ever read this, but I need to say it, to put it into words so that I can finally let go. I have loved you for so long, longer than I can even remember. I thought that maybe, one day, you might see me the way I see you. But I was wrong.

Watching you with Elain, seeing the way you look at her—it's tearing me apart. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay, that I'm strong enough to handle it. The truth is, I'm not. I'm breaking, Azriel, and I don't know how to fix it.

I need to move on, to find a way to heal. And I can't do that if I'm here, surrounded by memories of you. So, I've decided to leave Velaris. I don't know where I'll go, but I need to find a place where I can rebuild my heart, piece by piece.

I wish you all the happiness in the world, Azriel. You deserve it, even if it's not with me. Please, don't come after me. This is something I need to do for myself.

Goodbye, Azriel. I will always love you, but I need to let you go.

Y/N

She sealed the letter with trembling hands, placing it on her bed. She packed a small bag with essentials, her heart heavy with each item she added. She took one last look around her room, her sanctuary, and then she left, the door closing behind her with a finality that echoed through her soul.

As she walked through the quiet streets of Velaris, she felt a sense of freedom mixed with a profound sadness. She was leaving behind everything she had ever known, but she knew it was the only way to heal.

Azriel:

Azriel stood in the training room, his fists clenched at his sides. He had pushed himself harder than ever before, trying to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But no matter how hard he fought, he couldn't escape the pain in his heart.

He thought about Y/N constantly—about her laughter, her strength, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. He missed her more than he could bear, but the fear of hurting her kept him from reaching out.

Cassian's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of what he had lost. "You don't have to be perfect to love someone, Az. And Y/N doesn’t need perfect. She needs you." But he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't enough, that he would only bring her pain.

He walked to Y/N's room, his heart heavy with regret. He had stood outside her door so many times, wanting to knock, wanting to hold her and tell her everything. But he had always walked away, too afraid to face his feelings.

Tonight, he couldn't stay away. He needed to see her, to tell her how he felt, even if it was too late. He reached for the door, his hand trembling as he knocked softly.

There was no answer. He knocked again, louder this time, but the room remained silent. Panic began to set in as he pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The room was empty, the bed neatly made. His eyes landed on the letter, and his heart stopped. He picked it up with shaking hands, his eyes scanning the words.

Each sentence was a knife to his heart. He read her words, feeling the depth of her pain, the love she had carried for so long. And as he reached the end, a sob tore from his throat.

She was gone. He had pushed her away, and now she was gone.

He sank to his knees, clutching the letter to his chest. The shadows around him pulsed with his anguish, but they offered no comfort. He had lost her, and it was his own fault.

I need to find her. The thought was a lifeline, a desperate hope that he clung to. He couldn't let her go, not without a fight.

He stood, his resolve hardening. He would find her, no matter where she had gone. He would make things right, even if it took him the rest of his life.

With a final glance around the empty room, he turned and left, the letter still clutched in his hand. He didn't know where to start, but he knew he couldn't give up. Not now, not ever.

Y/N:

Y/N stood on the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping through her hair as she looked out over the sea. She had traveled for days, seeking solace in the quiet places far from Velaris. But no matter where she went, the pain followed her, a constant shadow.

She had thought that leaving would help her heal, but it had only made the ache more acute. She missed Azriel with every fiber of her being, missed the way his presence had brought her comfort, even in the darkest times.

She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely. She had tried to be strong, tried to move on, but the love she felt for him was a part of her, woven into her very soul.

As she stood there, she heard a voice behind her, soft and filled with pain. "Y/N."

She turned, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Azriel standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and hope.

"Azriel," she whispered, her voice breaking.

He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "I couldn't let you go. I can't lose you, Y/N. Not like this."

Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head. "You don't understand, Azriel. I've loved you for so long, and it's killing me. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay."

He reached for her, his hand trembling as he cupped her cheek. "I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. But I can't lose you. I love you. I've always loved you."

Her heart ached at his words, the truth she had longed to hear. But the pain was still there, a deep wound that wouldn't heal. "Azriel, it's too late. I'm broken, and I don't know how to fix it."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "Then we'll fix it together. Please, Y/N. Don't leave me. I need you. We need each other."

She clung to him, her sobs shaking her body. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that they could find a way to heal. But the pain was still there, a constant reminder of the love that had nearly destroyed her.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult. But for the first time, they had hope—hope that they could find a way to heal, to rebuild the shattered pieces of their hearts.

And as the sun set over the sea, casting a golden glow over the world, they took the first step on that journey, together.

[milehighmegs]

On the Subject of Fandoms: A Love Letter

So, I'm old. Well, oldER. I haven't entered the twilight of my years by any stretch, but once I entered that midlife wistful state of nostalgia, I knew that I had very likely reached the point at which it would be more past than future. And ya know, that's ok. I made peace with my mortality long ago. I don't fear death, I fear not living before I die.

So what's that got to do with fandoms? you may be asking. Fair enough. Here's what it's got to do with fandoms:

Before it was even a term, before I could do multiplication or write my name in cursive (I told you I'm old), I was part of a fandom and didn't even know it. My parents watched 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' when it was still on primetime; we even recorded the final episode on VHS and had it for years. (I told you, I'M OLD.) It was so incredibly formative for me that it's become part of my identity, part of my moral & ethical code, part of my personality. Is that ridiculous? Dramatic? Maybe even a bit of hubris? Perhaps. But it's true, nonetheless.

I've since joined other fandoms, of movie franchises (namely the MCU), TV shows (like Good Omens), and musicians (I'm a die-hard metalhead) over the course of my life, each of them creating/inhabiting a different part of what makes me ME. Though I've always remained the same basic person at my core (a decent one at least if not a good one, I hope), being a part of these fandoms has shaped the foundations of how I live my life, and how I've LIVED my life.

Being on the proverbial back nine of my earthly existence, looking back at what's come before, at how far I've come and all the things I've fucked up or gotten right, questioned, accepted, regretted, cherished... so much of that is filled with moments like, 'what would Captain Picard do? How would the Avengers handle this? Which Slipknot song would be most comforting right now?' With the explosion of semi-social media sites (like tumblr here, and its gateway drug, Pinterest), I've been able to dive even deeper into the fandom. The fic, the art, the theories & analyses... it turns my appreciation for all these things I love to 11. But it wouldn't be possible without the most critical element: the fans.

Because people have such a love for, and identify so strongly with the stories & characters of their respective fandoms, they go deep into hidden meanings, major themes, & what they imagine these stories would be like if they were able to direct the action. More than anything, what I love about fanfic/fanart is that while yes, we're creating what we want for the characters, it's more a reflection of what we want for ourselves, both in the same situation as the characters and in life in general. For example, I see SO MUCH art/fic of Crowley & Aziraphale being open & free in showing their love for each other. I see so many stories of them making up and living happily ever after. The art ranges from sweet & adorable to... ah... adult-themed, but the vast majority of the latter is passionate, tender, & clearly loving; rarely is it straight-up raunchy. Smutty? Totally. Raunchy? Not so much. And why? Because we know these two are IN LURVE, not just in lust. And we want what they (clearly) have, even if they can't admit it to one another. We, the fans, can live vicariously through these characters and these worlds, and there we can find what we're looking for.

I've had a rollercoaster of a life, emotionally speaking, especially in matters of romantic love, and much of that hasn't been pleasant. I've done so much soul-searching, shadow work, self-care and all that whathaveyou, but none of it- NONE of it- has come anywhere near to being as insightful as the fan-based art & analyses of the relationship between Crowley & Zira. I have spent the vast majority of the last week thinking about it, writing about it, going over & over how it applies to my life & experiences, and I gotta say... none of it would be possible without the remarkable Good Omens fandom. So seriously, thank you. THANK YOU. You've helped to make me a better person. You've helped to make me look back on my life, smile, and turn around... to look forward to what comes next.

Keep up the incredible work, creators. You never know whose life you could be saving.

[stardustneeko]

"I will not hand him over to somebody who doesn't respect duelists like you." "Don't make me laugh, you don't even know him." "We can get to know everything about each other through a duel." "Ah, yes, I do remember how naïve I used to be." "Uhh...Guys? Can I have a little space?..."

(listen i am feral about the idea of Johan getting to know the person that Ryo had left behind in his past and falling for him just as hard as he has for the current Hell Kaiser because, how could he not?)

[little-teacupss]

The Serpentine's jealousy.

Note: Full credit goes to @skellseerwriting/ @skellseer, for the title, and the cover is still work in progress they didn't give me much to work with ;-;, anyway hope you enjoy this story it will be more Morgie based, and remember you can give criticism without being a prick.

Summary: James and Morgie navigate their complicated feelings for each other and Fay.

Note 2: If you want to be a part of the tag list, just put mail in the mailbox!

Tag list: @giveityourworst and @brokenmilkcrates, go show both of them love and support. Giveit is my co-founder for MFH, and milkc is helping me build lore for this ship!

Note 3: Part one here.

___________________________________________

Morgie sat against one of the shell chairs that Uliana had gotten for the lair for decoration with crossed arms as they waited for Hook to get back, he wasn't sure if Uliana had seen Fay or not, but he did, it was strange he'd liked Hook for a while, but a part of him also felt something for Fay, he'd been set up with for different classes randomly, but he never felt this way for her before she was always the nerdy, clumsy fairy who couldn't make her wand work.

He'd liked Hook for a while. They usually spent time together, or he was with Uliana. For a while, Morgie thought Hook may be gay, but now he doesn't know what to think. How could he be gay, but now have confusing feelings for his friend and his girlfriend, or is Fay his girlfriend?

He heard a snapping sound in front of him. Looking up, he saw Uliana snapping her fingers in front of his face, although having a passive look, he knew she was worried about him, she always was.

"You good, Morgs?" .Uliana asked as she stopped snapping her fingers and sat back in her seat, Morgie let out a soft chuckle as he gave a wry smile and said. "Yeah, yeah, I'll tell ya later."

Uliana gives him an uneasy look but nods. Finally, after fifteen minutes of waiting, Hook comes into the lair and takes a seat to Maleficent, who says. "You finally made it, I see, but why are you soaked?"

Hook shrugged as he leaned back in his chair before looking at Uliana as he listened to her talk about needing a plan to get back at the AK's.

After a while of thinking and many ideas being shot down, a light bulb turned on in Morgie's head as he pitched in. "What if we smoke bombed the ballroom for rehearsal for castlecoming?"

Uliana snapped her fingers as she smiled at Morgie for giving her a plan that would make people fear them more.

"That's an excellent idea Morgie."

She said as she began to give everyone their part of the plan who would do what.

They sat around and went over what each person would do, and then for a couple of hours, they sat and played cards or gossiped, it wasn't until they all started yawning that they finally left the lair, and headed back to Merlin Academy, while Uliana, Maleficent and Hades went to the dorms, Morgie followed Hook who decided that he'd spend the night in the Jolly Roger.

He grabbed Hook's shoulder, who turned around and looked at him, Morgie didn't waste any time and got straight to the point and warned Hook. "Look I saw you, I'm not sure if Uliana did, I'm not telling you to stop, but I am saying to be careful."

Morgie was very careful about what he said to the pirate as he was unsure how protective he was over his secret relationship, but also there was a tiny part of him that was afraid the Captain might just order his crew to have Morgie forced to walk the plank, while another part of him was terrified of being figured out for his feelings towards him, but then those strange, never before feelings also appeared the ones he held for Fay, she wasn't a VK, she was soft, very delicate, she was clumsy, and terrible at magic so she couldn't protect herself like Hook could, what if something happened to her because Hook was bad at hiding their relationship?

Morgie shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his head, before looking back at Hook, who was leaning against the rails of the dock, and fixing his hair, before turning his gaze back to Morgie and saying. "Need anything else, lad?"

Morgie shook his head and quickly made his way from the dock. Once he finally made his way to the gates of Merlin Academy, Uliana popped out from behind one of the pillars.

She crossed her arms as she approached him, and said. "So are you gonna tell me now what's going on?"

The two sat at a random picnic table as Morgie began to explain. "Well, you already know how I feel about Hook, but some things changed."

Uliana nodded a she listening and said. "Changed how?"

Morgie gulped before letting out a shaky sigh. "Well, do you know that one fairy the one always wearing light blues and periwinkle?"

Uliana nodded as she gave him a small smile as she realized where this was going.

"Well, I don't know how or when it started, but she has to be a vixen or something along with Hook she's all I think about her stupid wand tricks and softness, she can barely even get her wand to listen to her if she keeps it up she'll end up dead if she doesn't get her act straight."

Uliana laughed as Morgie went on a big rant about how Fay must have cursed him or something because it made no sense how he was gay, but constantly thinking about her and Hook.

Uliana patted his arm and said. "Morgs, I could be wrong, but maybe you're not gay, of course at one point you could've been, but maybe you've changed, and if you have that's okay, it's normal, maybe you like both men and women, maybe you like all genders, but you won't know unless you give it a chance and stop blaming it on a fairy who can't even get her wand to work for her, it doesn't mean you have to stop liking Hook, maybe you'll find you two are more alike then you may think."

Morgie hummed in response, unsure of what to think of what the sea witch said. He'd know he was gay for a while, so how could he just abandon it so quickly?

Uliana got up from the bench across from him and made her way over before gently putting her arms around his shoulders, hugging him close, so he knew it was alright.

Morgie grabbed her hand and squeezed it as he looked at the table in front of him, unsure of what to think anymore. One minute, he's gay, and the next, he truly doesn't have an idea what to think anymore.

The two ended up going back to Uliana's dorm, where she let Morgie stay for the night so she could be there to comfort him as he figured out what was going on with him.

Uliana smiled at him as he sat on the floor before joining him and said. "You don't have to decide anything yet. Just try and get some rest, okay, Morgs?"

He gave her a small half smile as he nodded before laying back against the carpet. With his arms rested underneath his head, Uliana patted his leg before getting up and getting into bed, as she began to let out a soft humming sound similar to how a siren would, so Morgie would relax enough to fall asleep.

- two days later, Monday 8:40 am. -

The entire VK group was hanging out in the courtyard, Uliana was sorting their plan, while the other four played cards, but Morgie's focused wasn't exactly on the card game, instead his eyes periodically traveled to across the courtyard where a certain fairy was sat with her nose in a book sometimes waving her wand that'd do absolutely nothing.

Hades snapped his fingers infront of Morgie's face and said. "It's your turn."

Morgie let out a shaky breath before throwing a random card. It wasn't looking great for him anyway, so what was the point of trying when he had more dire problems going on right now.

Hades squinted his eyes at him, but let the game go on, not questioning what was going on with the Serpentine, but before he could think about it any longer, Maleficent slammed her hand down and took all the cards from the middle.

"Another point for Mali?" .Hook asked as he picked the pen up and tallied up the score, unaware of what was going on around him as Hades whispered something to Maleficent, whose eyes traveled to Morgie, but his attention was gained when he felt a sharp kick to his shin, and he let out a loud yelp. "That hurt. What was that for ya bilge rat?"

Hook glared at the sorceress across from him, Maleficent got up and led Hook away from where Hades and Morgie were restarting the game and said. "Haven't you noticed some things up with him?"

Hook looked back and forth from Maleficent to Morgie. Before shrugging, he felt a light tap on his chest as Maleficent gave him a pointed look before walking off back to the table, as Hook let out a soft sigh seeing as he'd be the one to figure out what was going on with his friend.

He stalked his way back over he gently grabbed Morgie by his shoulder and led him away from the courtyard and near an old corridor, close enough to see their crew, but not close enough to hear what was going on.

"Alright, bucko, what's been going on? You've been hanging the jib all day, matey?" .Hook said as he looked at his friend, wondering what could possibly being going on with him to make him so gloomy, compared to his usual upbeat self.

Morgie let out a soft sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the wall with crossed arms while nervously bouncing his leg.

James, taking in how nervous the other guy was, backed a little away in case he felt claustrophobic and said. "Ay, it's alright me hearty, take your time it can't be that bad as plundering or sinking ships for a living?"

He tried to be light-hearted to try and calm Morgie, who shook his head in response.

Morgie had no clue how he could possibly tell his friend that he held feelings for not only him but his girlfriend, the same one he told Hook to be careful with so they wouldn't get caught, he let out a shaky breath, as he tried to regain composer and control of the situation, he combed his hand through his hair and blurted out. "It's about Fay, alright, I think I- I'm not sure, actually."

James eyes widened a bit, and his mouth tightened a little, but he listened on to what the Serpentine had to say. "But it's not just Fay, it's everything. it's you, her, and I don't understand, i thought I did, but I clearly don't at all."

Morgie sighed as he tried to come up with a way to tell the pirate what was going on, but he'd much rather have the floor open beneath him and suck him into the void the more he went on, he started to adjust his shirt, before he continued. "Look, I'm not trying to get in the way of you and Fay, but you needed to know how I feel for both of you it doesn't feel right not telling you as my friend."

He managed to get out before staring at Hook, who was processing what he'd been told with crossed arms as he nodded before approaching Morgie, who was nervously looking at him, James gently grabbed his shoulder.

"How about we figure things out with Fay present, mate?" .Hook waited for Morgie to give an indication that he wanted to, as he watched Morgie look at the ground and cross his arms over his chest before stepping away from the pirate and said. "The last thing I want is for you two to have problems."

James furrows his brows at him before letting out a slow whistle, as he said. "Nothing gonna change. Well, some things will, hopefully, but nothing bad will change, bucko."

James put his arm around Morgie's shoulder and further explained. "Fay's going through something a little similar at the moment, poor wee faes, you'd be surprised by how similar you both are."

After a while of mentally preparing, James led Morgie when he was ready back to the courtyard, but not where the VK's were, but over where Fay was at with her book and wand, being wove around, but nothing happening as she said. "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo?"

They watched as she glared at the book before waving her around around and repeating. "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo."

Her wand sparkled, but it was becoming clear what she hoped to happen wasn't going to as the book disappeared in thin air, with her mouth falling open and dropping her wand as she look to her hands in shock.

James smiled as he waved his hand in front of the shocked fairy's face, who slowly looked up at him, and Morgie still wearing a look of confusion as she still wondered what happened to the book.

"Y- yes?" .She nervously said while still processing that she had just made her homework vanish, her dark eyes moved from James to Morgie, and back again, as she nervously fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

"Ahoy! Me Corsair, you see Morgie here was thinking of telling you something."

Fay looked at her lap before slowly looking up to Morgie, who gulped loudly as he looked between the two before taking a step closer to Fay and gently helping her stand up.

He pursed his lips as he stared at the nervous fairy who glanced behind him before looking back up at him as he said. "Look, I know we don't- well, it's all strange really, I don't know when or how it happened, but."

Morgie struggled to find the words to tell the fae in front of him who stared up at him as he fumbled to confess to her.

Fau watched him patiently as she was unsure of what he was about to say, but there was a part of her that knew what he was gonna say, as he continued. "For a while now, I've begun to see you differently. You used to be the nerdy fairy who couldn't use her wand, but then I don't know, you always seem so hopeful no matter how upset you get when you don't get it right the first dozen times, yet you never stop trying."

Morgie rambled on about randomly little facts about her he'd noticed over time before looking down at her and nervously looking away when their eyes met.

Fay nodded as he went on, and on about random things she'd do, her love for blueberry pie, how excited she'd get if her wand would finally decide to work, the way she smiled, or how the gleam in her eyes was ever so familiar a gleam.

"I guess what I want to say is- well, you know, I like you, Fay Godmother." .It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders the moment he got it out, but then a new fear arouse as he waited for Fay's reaction to his confession.

Fay's eyes widened at the sudden confession as she looked up at the Serpentine, whose eyes slitted a bit as he stared at her, Fay nodded as she let a small smile grace her face.

Behind Morgie, they could hear a soft wolf whistle before Morgie was playfully shoved forward and sent flying into Fay.

The two tumbled into each other, Morgie slipped one arm around Fay's waist while the other braced against the picnic table behind her to keep them from falling onto it, when he opened his eyes he realized just how close they were as their noses brushed against one another's.

They both gave a soft chuckle to each before before Morgie lifted them back into a standing position.

Hook finally made his way over and drapped his arms around their shoulders as he smiled at the two deviously and said, "So how bout we give this a wee try, me hearties?"

The two nodded bashfully as the pirate gave a hearty laugh at the two's reactions to his suggestion, after a while of clearing some things up and three planned a time to spend time together soon, so finally after a long few days of questioning everything Morgie laid in bed feeling content at where his life was at the moment.

___________________________________________

I want to give a special thank you to @skellseerwriting and @brokenmilkcrates for giving me so much help with setting up queer relationships and queer discovery, so go show them some much love and support!

Another special thank you to @giveityourworst for helping me create the MFH ship and becoming my co-founder go show them some love as well!

I hope you've enjoyed it, and if you want to be on the tag list, just put mail in the mailbox!

Tag list: @giveityourworst and @brokenmilkcrates! @saturnisaroace and @jupiterisaroace

Anyway till the next story! Ba bye!

[stevxiee]

𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 - 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗽

✿༺ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗲 ༻✿

➵ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌. 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗌. 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾

➵ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒.

➵ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝖿 𝗀𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎

➵ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟩𝟪𝟦

✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿

𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗉'𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗏

“𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌.”

𝖬𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝖱𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖨’𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 - 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾-𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾. 𝖨’𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽. 𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖬𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨’𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗋; 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍. 𝖲𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍.

𝖠𝗌 𝖨 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽, 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌, 𝖨’𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗆. 𝖲𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝖨 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖶𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗆 𝖨 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁? 𝖦𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗍, 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝖨𝖿 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗀𝗈 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌.

𝖯𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆, 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄, 𝖨 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌. 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 - 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅. 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 “𝗁𝗆𝗆” 𝖺𝗌 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 ‘𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀’. 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇. 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖽𝗈 - 𝖻𝖾 “𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌” 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗒. 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝖧𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗇𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.

“𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.” 𝖧𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽.

“𝖨 𝖺𝗂𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌,” 𝖨 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝖨 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗏𝖾, “𝖠𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝗃 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾?”

𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖭𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗍. 𝖫𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗐𝗈-𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗒. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖽. 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾'𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅?” 𝖥𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖨’𝖽 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝖿𝖿.

“𝖦𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖩𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒.” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽.

𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗂𝗅. 𝖭𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀-𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. ‘𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀’ 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗒, 𝗌𝗈 𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒.

𝖯𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖨 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍. 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖲𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍, 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖠 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾, 𝖨 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈. 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋. 𝖡𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅, 𝖨 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉.

𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗌����𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿

𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

[gingerteaonthetardis]

ʀᴏꜱᴇᴍᴀʀᴛʜᴀ ❦ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ-ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ ᴀᴜ

‘‘But... I don't understand. Who am I?’’

[wordsmith30]

A parallel I haven’t seen much talk about: how Lilith goes on the warpath for Mary the same way Mary went on the warpath for Shannon (and how they both fall into Vincent’s trap).

Season one Lilith was all about the OCS (or rather her ambition for the Halo). She told Mary not a day after Shannon’s murder that she needed to think about the mission, not her own personal agenda (which was not only hypocritical, but as Beatrice said, unfair). And in that same scene, she dismissed Mary as not being a true member of the team because she wasn’t a nun and didn’t take vows like the rest of them. She was a free agent who operated on her own terms.

But after their tearful reconciliation in the catacombs, Vincent’s betrayal, and Mary’s subsequent disappearance under an army of wraith demons, Lilith’s priorities shift significantly. The start of season two finds her as the new lone wolf as she hunts down Vincent herself. And while the OCS is just as interested in finding him to get to Adriel, Lilith’s only concern is Mary. She’s ready to tear him apart herself, just as Mary threatened that man in 1×02, and then later goes through a whole squadron with her bare hands.

The part that really gets me, though, is Lilith and Vincent’s scene in the car. She’s finally got a lead after two months, finally has a location on Mary. And despite being outnumbered, despite being about to walk into Adriel’s fortress without backup, there isn’t one shred of fear or hesitation. She just tells Vincent to signal the guards. “Put a foot out of place and I’ll –”

“You’ll kill me. I know,” Vincent says.

A small smile plays around Lilith’s mouth. “I won’t kill you,” she says easily. “I’d never take that pleasure away from Mary.”

She gives him a pointed look and Vincent just grimaces before they climb out of the car.

Vincent is jovial as he greets the guards and then gestures to Lilith with an outstretched arm. “I have brought home a friend.”

And Lilith, chuckling, slides right into the embrace like it’s nothing, even putting her head on his shoulder. They walk through the gates just like that, leaning against each other.

It’s such a cruel twist of the knife to think that that’s how they were before. We’ve only really seen Vincent’s one-on-one dynamic with Ava, Mary, and Beatrice, but this ease, this familiarity with Lilith is something completely different. Given her family’s history with the OCS and her claim that she’s trained harder than anyone else, she was probably one of the closest to him.

Their embrace is that of a father and daughter. This was someone she could laugh with, lean on, confide in. Someone she trusted to take care of her. Now it’s just a part she plays on paper so that she can get her real family back.

[staxdeadempress]

"The Chosen Path" a mini comic about discovering and accepting my trans identity through the lens of Pokemon, across every generation that came out between my first realization, to finally taking my first steps as a trans woman

[mqmotivate]

August Quotes - I hope your August is full of nice things.

Read more at - https://minimalistquotes.com

[lordofdestructionm]

Just when I thought this week couldn't get any better for feeding my general Lackadaisy fixation this author has put out a new Vikdecai fanfiction!

One that is both hilariously uncomfortable and angsty (for Mordecai that is). Summed up quite well by these panels from the comic ;)

[b-does-the-write-thing]

general incivility, chapter three

                              - a brienne x jaime pride & prejudice retelling -

chapter one l chapter two  l chapter three

Brienne woke,  still in the previous evening’s ill humor. She had forgotten to close the shade and thus was rudely awakened despite seemingly only just falling asleep. She lay there for a moment, knowing Septa Roelle would not begrudge her a lie-in after her evening at the assembly.  For a second, she was tempted to do just that. Lie there, stewing in the memories of Tyrion Lannister’s voice, bordering on admiration but landing in disbelief, and green eyes, dabbling in disbelief but ending, as they always did, in revulsion. 

Instead, Brienne rolled out of bed and laced on her boots. She donned an old threadbare gown before she quietly made her way down the stairs. Faint snores emanated from Septa Roelle’s room, even though the kitchen staff were already awake and seeing breakfast. The scully maid was too busy poking worriedly at the unrising loaf of bread in the oven, so Brienne grabbed an apple from the basket before anyone could see and slipped outside. Mr. Tarth may pay their wages, but Septa Roelle ran the staff with an iron grip, if any of them saw Brienne up this early, they’d have fetched the matron at once. 

Despite the lingering humidity, the early spring air was frigid this morning. It felt refreshing and by the time Brienne had made her way to her gate, she was wide awake and eager to start her day. Taking another large, satisfactory bite of her apple, Brienne meandered down the path to the Colonel’s yard. Having foregone a bonnet, she tipped her face to the cloudless sky to enjoy the warmth against her skin.

“Dinna expect to see you, this morn.”

Inhaling deeply, Brienne lowered her gaze to where the Colonel stood at his gate. “Morning,” she greeted before finishing the apple with another large crunch. Juice ran down her fingers, and she was tempted to lick her fingers clean, but she didn’t dare. Colonel Brandon was a lot of things, but he was also still a man. One more interested in other men, whether for the love of boxing or for another kind of pleasure, Brienne couldn’t say. Nor did she care. 

Forging the pleasures of the apple, Brienne lowered her hand to her side, discreetly wiping her fingers against her skirt. It was ruined anyway; being slightly sticky and smelling of apples was hardly the worst thing to befall it. “You’re finally fixing it?” she nodded to the gate, one creaky hinge slightly off-kilter and causing the entire panel to sag into the dirt of the path. 

“Thought I’d have the time.” The Colonel spat into the bushes as he leaned against the fence post he was repairing. “What with you having had the ball or what not.”

“The assembly,” Brienne corrected. 

“Word is the new master of Morne Manor is the runt of the litter. Any truth to that?” Brienne recalled the mismatched eyes crinkled up at her in solidarity, a queer sort of understanding between two outsiders. “He seems like a good man,” was all she said. 

The Colonel snorted. “Your a’ great deal too kind to people in general, lass. You never speak a cruel word of anyone, including those who deserve it.”

Brienne’s grip tightened around the apple core until juice squeezed between her knuckles to drop to the dirt beneath her boots. “Up for a bit of sport this morning?” Brienne proposed. 

“Most ladies would be talking my ear off about the new lord and his company,” the Colonel observed as he swung the gate open to permit her entry. 

Brienne tossed the apple core aside. “And what would I have to say about the new tenants? Lord Tyrion is shorter than most, this is true- but he possesses no shortage of wit. He danced nearly every dance and conversed with all that approached him.”

“Beggars cannae be choosers,” the Colonel grunted as he dropped into a ready position. 

Brienne followed suit. “He was a deal more pleasurable than his brother or their cousin.”

“Heir to the Rock dinnae have to be pleasurable. A dwarf bastard does.”

“He’s not-”

“Fists up!’ The Colonel had taken a swing at her, and she stumbled to the left to avoid the jab. 

“I wasn’t ready!” she protested in disbelief. 

“Stop your chattering then,” he advised, feinting back before issuing a clean uppercut. Brienne blocked it, and he danced away, giving her a precious moment to compose herself. “Always be ready. Distractions are just that, distractions.”

They fell into a familiar pattern. The Colonel was older, slower, but precise. He waited for her to drop her guard before dancing close. Brienne circled slowly, keeping her fists up. She was careful to keep her feet light, knees bent, elbows close as she watched her opponent. 

The next time he came at her, she was ready. She feinted to the left, and when he followed, she sidestepped neatly. He floated past her, already turning on his heel, but she pressed the advantage. She had him against the fence with three quick punches. He raised his elbows, took the hits, and returned them in equal force.

He was a tall man, maybe as tall as Jaime Lannister, but he had been brawnier in his youth, where the young lion was lean. Now, the Colonel’s brawn had withered away to a hollow chest, leathery sinews, and a weathered face. Still, they both had that same easy grace of a soldier in their movements and in the way they looked at her, sizing her up not as a woman but as an opponent.

The Colonel lashed out, and Brienne, caught in her recollection of the handsome stranger, barely raised an elbow to block him. His punch landed on her chin. She staggered backward, and instinct took over. She pitched forward to offset her momentum, throwing out her left hand wildly to prevent the Colonel from pressing his advantage, but he was already lowering his arms.

“Ah,” he groaned, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. “You here or somewhere else this mornin’, lass? I havene got such an easy hit since you were sprouting ringlets.”

Brienne straightened, internally cursing herself for three times a fool. “Here,” she proclaimed before dropping into a fighter’s stance. Boxing was her respite, her haven. Here, everything else faded away to the dance. She was no longer too big, too tall, too strong- here, she was no lady, no one’s daughter,  just a boxer. 

A damn good one too.

Brienne released a flurry of jabs and punches, ducking once, twice, three times before landing an uppercut before spinning away. The Colonel did not follow, taking the time to set back up before she came towards him again. This time, she danced around him in a circle, just out of reach. Her skirt flapped about her ankles, but she paid it no mind. It was nothing to her. Here, she was not the Beauty, the maid of Tarth, or an unfortunate wench. Here, she was Brienne.

As the sparring practice continued back at Morne Manor, the trio of Lannisters were just arriving home. Jaime and Cersei stumbled off to sleep, but Tyrion, still slightly drunk on brandy and good times, made his way to the breakfast room.

The staff had already laid out the morning meal, noticeably less than most mornings but perfectly suited for his needs. There was toast and porridge, a rather large pot of coffee, which he ignored, and boiled eggs. He helped himself to a bit of everything, humming some country tune he had just learned that evening. His legs were cramping terribly, but overall, he was in such a fantastic mood he could barely be bothered to care.  He was free. Free to do whatever he liked, such as throw the plate to the floor, demand more brandy, or fall asleep in his porridge. Here, clear on the other side of Westeros, his father’s shadow was not quite as long. Tyrion had six thousand pounds to his name, an estate of his own, and was quite satisfied with the arrangement as it stood.  

Unbidden, he thought of Tysha and how well she would like it here, but the thought sucked all the joy out of the morning. Tyrion crashed back to earth, all too aware of what he was, what others must have thought of him. He grew somber as he stared out the window across his new garden, where the trees were starting to bud, and dew glistened on every blade of grass. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day, yet his mood darkened. 

Tysha was a sore spot, much like an abscessed tooth. He ought to leave it alone, but he found he could not. How did one forget their first love? Their only love?

A whore, Tyrion corrected with a shake of his head. “I ought to have known,” he said aloud as he looked down at his stubby fingers where they clutched the knife and fork. “Ah, but it was a sweet lie while it lasted.”

Humming the same tune from earlier, he hopped down and made his way towards his bed. He was growing aware of the alcohol leaving his system and the dregs of exhaustion growing too pronounced to ignore much longer. At the top of the stairs, he stopped to look about his manor.

Red and gold hung everywhere, all orchestrated by Jaime in some misguided guise to remind Tyrion he was a Lannister. Poor, dim Jaime had never understood their father did not think of Tyrion as anything more than a cruel jape, a millstone about his neck. 

“Well, father,” Tyrion drawled. “I would have been happy with a cottage in the woods with a whore for the rest of my days, but I suppose I’ll make a go of playing the lord’s son.”

He had not expected Jaime to come with him. He had barely spoken to his brother since Tysha but Jaime had been there at his departure and throughout the journey east. And just as he had always been, Tyrion was somehow comforted by his presence. 

After all, the two had been close as far back as Tyrion’s earliest memories. In spite of all their great oppositions, Tyrion loved his brother even though they could not be more different in temperament or life experience. Tyrion had learned at an early age to charm with wit and quip, but Jaime had always been loved for his beauty and brawn and had never developed any charm. He was blunt and bold, and people permitted it because he was heir to Westeros's richest estate.

And yet here he was, with Tyrion, attending dances and setting up manors, all things Jaime Lannister hated. 

On the way back from the assembly, Tyrion had pressed Jaime for his thoughts on the Stormland assembly, eager to hear what his brother had to say. “Very pleasant people, these Stormlanders,” Tyrion had declared. Sure, people had whispered and pointed but they had done that in the Westerlands as well.  “And the girls- as pretty as any girl in Lannisport,” he needled, watching Jaime’s face closely. 

Jaime just lifted an eyebrow and went back to watching the horizon roll past as Cersei dozed beside him. He had spent the evening in abject boredom, having found the company dull and vapid. The girls had not been any prettier than any he had seen before, the country fashion far out of style and the dances clumsy at best. The talk had been of weather and crops, same town gossip, and that of the militia coming to town by summer. He had been bored within the first hour of their arrival. 

Though, there had perhaps been one note of interest, that huge hulk of a woman, the one his brother had called the Beauty of Tarth.  He had been taken aback when he had first laid eyes on her. Her strange, homely face had been so open he could read every thought crossing her mind- but then he had seen her arms- capped in ridiculous sleeves and adorned in white gloves- the lace only served to accentuate the tendons in her arms, the curve of the muscle, the only curves she possessed judging by the way her gown fell in a shapeless sack. 

Jaime would have taken odds the horrible excuse for a dress hid a waist as thick as a tree trunk. And by the time he had remembered himself, she had been flushed as red as a Lannister flag, every inch of flushed skin covered in freckled skin that spoke of too many days in the sun. She had somehow managed to disappear into the crowd before he could get another look at her. Surprising considering her broad shoulders and the fact she had towered over even him. 

Brienne the Beauty. Whoever had given her name had been in his cups—there was truly nothing beautiful about that poor creature. Brienne the Brute, Brienne the Bear—he amused himself with the various nicknames, her name rolling around in his mind like wine in a cup—each new alliteration causing him to grin: Brienne the Barbarian, Brienne the Beast, Brienne, Brienne, Brienne.

As he fell into his bed, Jaime stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Despite his exhaustion, whenever he closed his eyes, he could only see a pair of rather remarkable sapphire eyes. 

--

AN: I honestly can only blame @butterednuggets17, who commented and reminded me this existed. After that, it would not leave my head, so I wrote some more of it.

[ubiquitouslyme]

Game On - Chapter 5

Game On - Chapter 5 - Ubiquitously_Ubiquitous - The Empyrean - Rebecca Yarros [Archive of Our Own]

Chapter Summary:

Bodhi reflects on seeing Liam again, and then the gang spends the anniversary of their parents' death together.

Excerpt:

“It’s just, if it wasn’t for losing our parents, I wouldn’t know any of you.  If that day hadn’t happened, you all would probably still be sitting here around Xaden’s table, drinking and laughing and having a good time, but I wouldn’t be.  I would still have my parents, but I wouldn’t know all of you.”

He ran a hand through his hair and then sat back, defeated.  “You all are family, mine and Sloane’s, but sometimes it just feels weird being so happy to have you all in my life, knowing what it cost me.  What it cost all of us.”

Well, shit.  Without thinking, Bodhi reached over and pulled Liam toward him.  Liam buried his head on Bodhi’s shoulder for a second, maybe two, before he pulled back, sniffing.

Bodhi wasn’t the only one that reacted.  Garrick was out of his chair, and as soon as Bodhi let go of Liam, Garrick wrapped Liam into a bear hug from behind.  “Fuck off with that shit, Mairi.  Yeah, that day sucked, but we got you and Sloane out of that awful day.  I’d say the universe more than made up for the shit they handed us.” 

Garrick planted a kiss on Liam’s cheek that had Liam blushing, and then Garrick ruffled his hair and let go of him.  “You two are just as much family to us as the rest of us are.”

Xaden nodded.  “I’ve told you a thousand times, Liam, we’re brothers.  Nothing will ever change that,” he said seriously.

Even Imogen gave a half smile, but she just managed with a wave of her hand, “Yeah, what they all said.”

Liam huffed a laugh, nodding his head.  “I just wish Sloane could have been here too.”

“Welllll….” Xaden said, cocking his head as if listening for something.

As if on cue, Bodhi heard a voice behind him.  “Did someone say ‘Sloane’?”

Chapters:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

[delopsia]

One More Time | Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 1100 Cross Posted Here on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, Overstimulation, crying during sex, afab! reader. Idk I felt like making Bob cry but I didn't want to let myself write a 5k monster again.

"Cum one more time for me; come on, I know you’ve got it in you."

There's a quiver growing in Bob's hips as they start to move again, shallow, weak thrusts punctuated by heavy pants into the crook of your neck. Too big to rest his head on your chest in this position, like he's so desperately trying to do. Your nails travel up his back, sweaty and burning under your touch; the whimper it elicits from him is almost enough to have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

You can feel him trembling inside of you, even with your cunt fucked so numb that you can barely even notice the obscene wetness of his cum inside, spilling out of you with each and every fragile thrust. 

"You're doing so well," you coo, running your fingers through his messy, damp hair; his body jerks under you, abruptly hitting you with a hard thrust that moves your body up the mattress, "so good for me, baby."

His nose bumps against the underside of your jaw, catching your attention just enough for you to get a glimpse of the tears welling under his eyes, teetering on his water line. Three fingers press into his skin, and he stutters to a halt. Yet even his overwhelming obedience cannot muffle the frustrated whine that ripples out of his throat, and it's all those tears need to spill over. 

"Do you need to use your safeword, sweetie?" You've just barely got your words out, but he's already shaking his head. 

"Want—" he hiccups, "wanna cum again." 

Fuck, and here you'd thought you'd broken him. 

"Please let me cum again," he continues, voice so high and pitchy that it no longer sounds like him, "please, please, please."

Tentatively, your fingers lift, and just like that, his trembling hips reel back once more, cock plunging back into you with a sickening squelch. 

It's no secret that Bob's refractory period has always been practically non-existent; you've never met a man who can get hard just minutes after he's cum. Hypothetically, the oversensitivity should have ended things after you worked him up into putting a second load inside of you. 

You can see it getting to him, hidden in the way taut muscles flutter like leaves in the Autumn breeze, barely able to string together a proper thrust. 

"I can't," he almost wails, "'not enough, want it but 'ts not enough." 

Bob's not crying because he's overwhelmed, you realize; no, it's because he can't move quick enough to get himself off again. As if to emphasize your new revelation, his hips barely draw an inch out of your weeping cunt, thighs trembling with the effort of such a minuscule movement. 

It takes a moment for your feet to find their placement on the mattress; hips sore from how long your legs have been kept open. Once you've found your footing, though, it's all too easy to flip your positions. 

Bob's back hits the mattress with a soft thump, just barely has the energy to pry his watery eyes open to peer up at you. There's an ache in your thighs as you settle into a comfortable position, hands coming down to settle on either side of his head. Experimentally, your hips rise and—

"Oh," and those pretty eyes are shutting, head tilting back into the pillow. 

Slow, so as not to overwhelm him, you work up a pace not too unlike the one he'd tentatively set after he came the first time. He keens with every movement, face wet with tears that you can't wipe away quickly enough. God, you're so slick with his cum that you can barely stop him from slipping out of you. 

"Baby, baby, baby, I'm," hands patting weakly at the bed, struggling for purchase that he cannot seem to find, "I'm—"

"—come on," you're adjusting yourself so he can slide deeper, taking in every inch that you possibly can, "be a good boy and cum inside of me again."

Bob's properly trembling now, panting hard into the open air as you work your hips up and down, slowly quickening in pace. You're clamping down around him the best you can, massaging his cock with your cunt as you fuck yourself on him. 

His mouth is moving, but no words fall from his tongue; all he can do is whine in tune with every thrust, like a bitch in heat. Lithe hips twitch up, desperate for something that's just barely out of his reach, back arching and exposing that pale neck of his. You can't stop yourself from leaning down, settling onto your forearms just to nibble at that unmarked collarbone. 

"Come on," you murmur once more, "be a good boy for me and cum." 

You're just lucky enough to be privy to the wonderous sight of his eyes fluttering open, only for those baby blues to roll back into his head, and then he goes still.

With the softest whimper, his hips jolt up, and he cums in you for the third time tonight.

By some wondrous miracle, he barely manages to give you all he's got, short spurts of hot cum flooding your numb cunt. It's not much, but fuck is it more than you thought he had left in him. 

Your hips come to a screeching halt just as he starts to sob, crying openly now, "Bob?"

All he can do is shake his head, tongue stumbling over what sounds like, "I can't." 

Gently now, you slide yourself off him, ignoring the sensation of cum running down your thighs in favor of settling down next to him. "Come here," you coo, and he's immediately rolling on top of you. His head comes to settle upon your chest, just as he'd so desperately been trying to do earlier. 

The both of you are a sweaty mess; you need a bath before his cum dries on your skin. The sheets need to be changed and a thorough wash, but you can't bring yourself to worry about it just yet. Not when your trembling boyfriend is sniffling into your chest like he is, still shivering. 

"Was I..." he croaks, trailing off when the pads of your fingers wipe away another stray tear, "good boy..?"

Your heart both swells and shatters at that, "of course," kissing his forehead, "you're always such a good boy for me."

There's that sweet smile of his, gracing his bitten, swollen lips with its presence. 

For a while, you just hold him. Bob's not fragile, but you can't stand the idea of breaking him down to such a vulnerable point and not cuddling him until he's worked his way out of that headspace. Truthfully, he won't be out of it until early morning, if not late into tomorrow afternoon, but that's just fine with you.

"Sweet boy," and damn does he just grin at that, "how about a bath, hm?" 

He's quiet for a minute, and you can just see the gears turning in his head, "can we use the bubbles again?" 

Goddamn, Bob Floyd is going to be the death of you.