#send ask plis?

[becasart]

hello! could I repost your pregnant katara art on my twitter? with due credits ofc

If it's these two, then sure thing!

I don't like some of my OLDER older art 💩 i'd rather keep those hidden in a corner somewhere

#make sure u send me the link plis when u do post #zutara #asks #pregnant katara

[bigfemboyenergy]

felt like it

so i have my own story with my own ocs that has technically existed for prob 2 maybe 3 years now idk. and like i remembered it existed and now have a more deep concept for it in which the mc i originally selected is not the mc bc.. he held no actual plot significance when it comes to the trauma and magical aspect!, HIS BROTHER WOULD BE A BETTER MC AUDNDJSSJ so instead my brain decided to make the mc the op char!! except he learns and grows to regain his opness so hes not like. always op. its actually funny why did past me make this guy practically god /genq

anyway i want to write this so i might just..test out the villain perspective or smth bc i made an animation (yk with a template ofc i cant code/animate/etc for shit) with the main bad and good guys in it and suddenly i want to come up with a plot

Would you believe it if I told you I wasn’t always so cruel? I was a child too, once.

I didn’t choose to become what I am; my parents did. That we may have in common.

It isn’t a joke when I tell you I’m not all bad. Been tainted, but not completely absorbed into those expectations I seem to be forced to meet.

It’s an unusually cold summer day, the breeze blowing the leaves of green, healthy trees around on their branches. The sun shines, but it feels far away, distant somehow. Clouds are scattered across the sky, light filtering through them like it does through the leaves of the greenery. It may seem like a beautiful morning to some, but to others, it was less than joyful. Others..like me. (HELP HES SO CRINGE /SRS)

The birds chirping awaken me, my “eye” opening. I take it in, as if I truly could see it, and feel around, trying to see if I have something to tell me the time.

#this sat in my drafts for probably a week #anyway #UHMN I THINK HES BLIND BUT IDK.. #HIS FACE IS A VORTEX OR SMTH SO ITD MAKE SENSE #WONDER WHAT MADE HIM THIS WAY (stupidest question asked today) #sorry for the forgor ing i literally just did nothing and read fanfic #fucking send help #oc story #villain oc #personal writing stuff plis no steal 🥺 (who would ong)

[meraale]

ARE U STILL TAKING SKETCH RECS

YEA ALWAYS!!!! im behind on them rn bc i have a lot of work to do but im still planning on getting around to them SEND WHAT U WANT ME TO DRAW PLS

#ask #plis plis plis send sketch reqs

[marcskywalker]

Since I'm on a Moon Knight kick, and you're welcoming of Marc related asks, how do you think Marc and Elias' bond went up until Marc joined the Marines?

I've been sleeping on this for a while and tbh this is difficult to answer, I picture their relationship being so different depending on the day and my mood skdjsdf because the show doesn't have a lot of elias-marc content for me to have a concrete hc

There is obviously a lot of resentment from Marc, because Elias wasn't doing enough to protect him and Marc knows his dad should've done better (we can see this from the scene when he walks out, he says "you're supposed to fix this. Why haven't you?!")

At the same time, Marc doesn't hate him. He is comfortable enough with his dad to argue back, elias is in fact the only character to whom we see marc standing up for himself to, and he was obviously comfortable enough to leave his contact info with his dad (how else could elias find his number to give him a call regarding wendy's shiva).

Elias' problem was that he loved his wife more than his son.

Of course he loved his son, and he tried. He tried to hold his grieving son together, tried to get birthdays to be a little bit happier, tried to buy Marc stuff he liked, tried to help him with school.

But when his home turned into a sad excuse of a family, he'd run to help his wife.

Elias wasn't home to witness a lot of the abusive. And I think he'd choose to be ignorant and not look deeper when he saw signs of something bad. He didn't want to believe that something vile could happen in his family.

The first few years after Randall's death, Marc loved his dad the most. He was safe in his dad's arms; his dad never yelled or hit or blamed him. And Marc could talk to him about how much he missed Randall, how scared he was of missing random memory.

But by the he was 13-14 he'd start to grow bitter towards his dad as well (obviously cause of many many different reasons, but one of them being=) because his dad refuses to see wendy as a problem or get rid of her. His dad keeps saying that he loves him, but if that was true, how could he keep loving the thing that's hurting marc?!

For marc, Elias was the picture of a good man; he was pious, he never hurt his family, he never got angry. And to see that even a "good man" would pick Wendy over him, that really affected his self image, and contributed to his I am unworthy of love train of thoughts.

Even when he walked out of home, I don't think he hated Elias, he was just resigned and accepted that he was never going to be loved, that there was something inherently wrong with him.

#marc spector #elias spector #this got long and rambly sjagkds #meta #moon knight #moonknight #no I im really curious now #how do y'all think their relationship was like #plis reply/dm/send asks #blade-liger-4ever #thanks for the ask!!

[tensecretsandakiss]

there's a severe deficit of horny anons in my ask box and I don't know how I'm expected to function without them

#plis send asks #pretty please? 🥺 #elda rambles

[heartfullofleeches]

femboy creep reader would def have one of those dentist teddy bears... but with real teeth that they took found

Some boys like roses, some like plies of teeth and bones left at their doorstep to use for their special art projects.

-

"I've sent you flowers, meals, my credit card information, even my medical records and samples of my blood when you asked - why won't you go out with me!"

Blocked. Didn't even send a full pint like you asked. You'll never have enough blood to finish that painting tucked away in your closet at this rate. Rolling onto your side, a knock at your window weeps away the brief flicker of tranquility you felt at ridding yourself of another parasite chasing after your tail. When will they learn that sweet gestures like those just aren't enough for a boy anymore?

Crawling out of bed, you walk over to window and take a peak outside. The thick layer of glass muffles footsteps growing fainter in the distance. Unlocking the latch, you open and lean out the window in an attempt to get a better look at them - knocking over the wrapped box left on the sill in the process.

"A gift?" It's not an entirely uncommon occurrence. You're used to them being left on your doorstep, but this was new. Long as they aren't trying to break in you can't really complain. You're tempted to throw it right out, but the wrapping paper- what a gorgeous shade of red. You pick at the tape as you walk back over to your bed, intending to salvage the paper for later use. The box pops as you peel back the final piece seeming to have none taped to the cardboard itself. You look inside. A fluffy brown bear looks back. You'd like to say they were smiling, but it would be pretty hard for them to do so with that giant hole in their mouth. A note sits on its little tummy, held in place by its tiny claws. You read aloud it to yourself.

"Have fun, pretty boy~ Got more for you on the way if you're willing to keep me around.

Much Love, your secret admirer."

The box was definitely heavier than the weight of a plush bear. Lifting your new friend out of the box, another prize awaits. You run your fingers over the eggshell colored object, trailing them downwards till you reach imperfections in its smooth surface. Sockets, nostrils, teeth. You toss the bear onto the bed and pull the second object out. A pair of pliers at the bottom of the box next to a photograph builds up the excitement fluttering in your stomach. Scooping the bear up in your arms, its jaws fall slack - a second note lodged in the back of its mouth.

"Call me. ;)"

You snuggle the bear to your chest- retrieving your phone from the nightstand.

"This is more like it. Don't worry, little guy. I'll give you all your teeth back- then we'll send whoever sent you a nice thank you message."

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere #yandere blurb #tw yandere #yandere slasher #yandere drabble #Femboy reader #yandere fic #male reader

[lyvhie]

requests are open wooo!!!! Read all ur fics and god theyre AWSOME…. Maybe requesting a mark x reader where it’s Valentine’s Day and u and mark have been bffs since like foreva so that’s why he catches feelings… And he’s always tried hinting that he likes you so when he finally does confess the 14th he gets all nervouse like sweaty palms and red ears YK…. I’ll leave it up to you for the ending (a happy one obv…)

Maybe also inspired by 1/3 loona song valentine girl it’s so cute plis 💘

confession | mkl

bestfriend!mark x gn!reader summary: a small misunderstanding combined with his impulsive acts led mark to finally confess the feelings he had been keeping to himself for so long. a/n: hii, anon! i took longer than i expected, but i finally made it! thanks for your patience! I'm not sure if it's exactly what you had in mind, but i did my best!! cw: fluff, best friends to lovers (and lemme know if i missed some!)

ANXIOUS (adjective) 1. experiencing worry, unease, or nervousness, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. 2. wanting something very much, typically with a feeling of unease.

that was a perfect word to describe mark lee. from the moment he discovered his feelings for you, he was like a house of cards. one subtle movement or one simple word from you could bring his emotions crumbling down. he was always on the verge of a collapse whenever he was around you. a slight touch, the way you looked at him—all of it was enough to send him over the edge. he was a fragile, broken version of himself when it came to you.

the way he felt was beyond friendship or just liking each other. it was a deeper and more romantic kind of love, the kind that he wanted to devote his life to. to marry you and live with you for the rest of his life, it was the closest thing to perfection he could ever want.

even after so many years together, mark still wasn't able to tell you about his sudden change in his heart. the one common fear was weighing him down: losing you because of his feelings.

deep down, he knew that even if you didn't like him in this way, you wouldn't just distance yourself from it. instead, you were more likely to ask for some time to sort out your thoughts before returning to normal. but the very prospect of a temporary separation was enough to make him nervous and anxious again.

and it's not as if he hadn't already tried to tell you about his feelings before. he had actually started leaving hints and clues all the way back since... since ever. you both have known each other even before you knew your own names—you were born within just two days of difference in the same hospital, your mothers were friends and neighbors, so you both were practically raised together. it seemed like fate had brought you together.

the seeds of his sentiments for you started to bloom back when you both were in elementary school. it was the innocent acts like holding your hand together as you walked to school that made his heart pound and his face flush, which always caused you to look at him with worried eyes, thinking that he may be sick.

that was the issue with you—you were painfully oblivious. like, what parts did you not notice that pointed toward his love for you?

he was always complimenting you whenever he had the chance, because, wow, you're amazing in so, so, so many ways.

he paid extra attention in everything related to you, taking notice of the tiniest details about everything you shared with him and always finding an excuse to have quality time with you (he didn't even need a reason for that, as you were always up for spend time with him).

he was always giving you gifts saying, "i saw that and it reminded me of you”.

he loves telling others about how incredible his best friend is, and how proud he is of you.

he would always rush at your call no matter the situation, no matter the place, no matter the reason. one single word of yours is all he needs to come running, because that’s how much he cares for you.

the way that he looked at you with heart eyes the moment you were physically present with him... it was all too obvious—everything about him scream that he likes you.

it is no secret to the people around you that he is completely head over heels for you. It is plain as day that he is deeply in love with you, but the person who doesn't see it is you. and that makes the situation rather amusing to others. after all, you don't seem to know how he feels. the irony is that mark is so preoccupied with his own feelings and how to end things between the two of you that he doesn't even notice that your feelings are the same as his.

it was inevitable that everything you said would somehow include "mark" in it. he'd become the focus of your thoughts for days, constantly on your mind in every situation and conversation. everything seemingly revolved around him, with every thought and idea eventually connecting back to his name as the starting point.

how was your day? it was an amazing time with mark at the new cat coffee we visited. the little cats were simply adorable! mark looked like he was in heaven playing with the kittens, and I took loads of photos of him. do you want to see them?

did you watch that new movie at cinema? yes, i really liked it, but mark said it was terrible, can you believe it?! can’t wait to tell him every single flaw on spider-man movies!

how do you feel about art? i mean, mark is pretty cool.

mark this, mark that.

mark. mark. mark.

you somehow always tend to find yourself mentioning him without even realizing, and, whenever anyone asks if you guys are dating, the answer remains the same: “no, we're just good friends”.

this phrase irks him, for he does not wish to be merely a mere friend; he wants more. he wants you all to himself.

despite the countless frustrations he faces daily, he could not bring himself to say it all to you. for some reason, he found comfort in being just your best friend. it was better than nothing, he thought. being in that position, he couldn't even imagine the humiliation and embarrassment of admitting his true feelings. he knew it was hopeless—so why bother? he would rather be content with what he currently had over risking everything in some grand gesture.

mark left a soft sigh escape his lips. renjun's words echoed in his mind after another night of talking about you. he had been rumbling on about you, unable to get you off his mind. this wasn't the first time he had done this either, but this time felt different. renjun's question stuck out, and it hit him in his heart:

"if you truly love someone, and i mean with every fiber of your being, wouldn't you move mountains and swim across oceans just for a chance with them? is protecting what you already have worth losing everything you desire?"

mark had no explanation for why his friend's words had such sway over him this time, but here he was, knocking at your door on this beautiful valentine’s day evening.

calling you for a night walk together was a not uncommon activity between the two of you, as you were accustomed to taking your dog for a walk and mark always joined in so you wouldn't be alone. but tonight, he felt as though this night walk was different somehow. more special than usual. at least for him.

hearing your voice respond from the other side of the door with a "i'm coming," mark took a deep breath, almost as if preparing himself for whatever he hadn't planned for the night. as the door opened, there wasn't even time to say something before your dog jumped on him.

"oh, hey girl," mark laughed with a big smile on his face, leaning down to pet the dog that was joyously jumping all over him. the pup seemed eager for his attention, her tail wagging and mouth opened in a toothy grin. "did you miss me?" he asked, scratching her behind the ears as she barked in reply, her tail wagging even more.

"ah, the usual scene we have here," you sighed dramatically as this familiar interaction played out. "i mean, i take care of her and look after her, but of course, she goes and greets the person she loves the most instead," you click your tongue, shaking your head in disappointment at the clear favoritism she was showing.

mark rolled his eyes at your comment and straightened his body to face you with an amused smile. "you know that isn't true," he chuckled, casually placing his hands in his pockets. "yeah, this little lie helps me sleep at night," you say with a hint of sarcasm that isn't lost on him, making him giggle. "how was your day, drama queen?” mark questioned as you took control of coco's leash and led you both on the walk.

"oh, you know, the office today was full of surprise love confessions," you shrugged, leaving a soft laugh to escape you as you shook your head. "it's the 'love is in the air' thing," you added.

mark raised an eyebrow and turned to face you as he sounded slightly more curious than casual as he asked, "and... did you receive some of them?" he tried to sound non-chalant.

"well, yes, actually," you giggled softly again, reliving the moment in your mind. your answer caught mark by surprise, and it took him a few seconds to register the information before he could continue walking again. "you... did?" he asked hesitantly, a slightly incredulous tone in his voice as he wondered precisely how many confessions you got.

"a-and who was it?" he asked somewhat carefully, worried that his completely unplanned and not entirely sure if he would even actually confess confession might have already been ruined. "you know the new intern i was training?” you look at makt by the corner of your eyes, "let’s say he thought i was giving signals like hints and not instructions,” you sigh, shaking your head. “he was the only one tho.”

"oh, i see…" a small sigh of relief escapes his lips as he smiles back at you. "but what about you, mr. heartthrob?" you tease, poking his arm with your elbow. "did you get any love chocolates today?”

"of course," he nods with a small smidge of amusement in his eyes. "haechan and doyoung gave me a few ones again," he shrugs casually, and you can't help but laugh at the slight absurdity of getting multiple gifts from the same people year after year.

"should i start giving you chocolate too?" you ask jokingly, playing around with the idea. "i have a feeling that i might be replaced by these boys if things keep going this way, and i don't want to lose you to them," adding a cheeky edge to your tone.

"don't even joke about that," he denies right away, making you laugh at the intensity he rejected it with. "i know, silly, i know. you love me quite a lot," you tease with a wink. "yeah, i sure do," he mutters, his voice still tinged with the smallest shred of embarrassment.

as you both make your way over to the nearby dog park that was just a short distance from here, there are only a handful of people around. you release coco's leash as you settle down on a bench next to mark, and the two of you sit, content in the quiet evening.

"we still don't have lovers, mark," you sigh dramatically, leaning your head on his shoulder as you watch your dog happily frolic around in space. "look at us," you lament once more with another dramatic sigh, "we're at a dog park in the most romantic night of the year!" you shake your head slightly as you continue to keep a close eye on your dog.

the moment you leaned against him, mark had to fight off a swirl of sensations that briefly overwhelmed him. your proximity, your warmth, and the intoxicating scent of your hair had his head spinning. after taking several breaths to compose himself, he mustered the strength to respond with a bit of hesitance.

"i-it's not that bad..." he muttered breathlessly, realizing just how much he enjoyed you being close. after a few seconds, he continued, "we have each other," he chuckled softly.

"right, nothing better than two best friends who have enjoyed being on the shelf for so long, spending yet another year together on valentine's day," you teased him lightly, your lips curled upwards in a little grin. "as if you've ever displayed genuine interest in anyone else either, hm?" he counters in return, his smirk matching yours in both intensity and humor as he continued gently teasing you.

"well, i'm not so sure i'm made for love," you shrugged casually as you leaned against the bench slightly. "but what about you?" you add, pulling your attention away from coco long enough to glance at him curiously. "i've always seen you as this ultimate girl crush guy since we were in school, yet i've never seen you with a girlfriend. so, i have to ask... have you ever liked someone?”

with your question, his eyes were unconsciously drawn to you, admiring your features and taking in every single detail of you to store away, it was almost as if he was mentally engraving you in his mind, forever preserving you in his memory, like he always did.

he let out a soft sigh as he stared, the heat rising to his cheeks as he glanced away, unable to face you for a moment, his thoughts already racing.

a little whisper escaped him as he uttered the words, almost as if they were too precious for him to speak it too publicly. "y-yes, i did..." mark's voice was barely audible, but the sound carried an emotional undertone.

those few words were enough to stir something unexpected inside you, a faint twinge in your heart. you weren't sure why his words gave you that slight pang, but there was something about the way he said it that made it feel as though he wasn't talking about an old crush. it made you realize that you weren't quite okay with the thought of mark in love with someone.

"wait, really?" you raised your eyebrows in disbelief, placing a hand on your chest and feigning pain. "you never told me? why?! you don't trust me?" laughing softly, the smile on your lips quickly disappeared to little pout. "you're the worst, you know? l8ke, the worst betrayal i could ever suffer," you added with over-dramatic flare.

"c'mon, it's not like that," mark waved his hands dismissively. "i just... i couldn't tell you." your brow remained quirked, your curiosity piqued as he stumbled over the next thing he said. "and why?" you prompted gently, noticing the change in his energy. “it's just... i didn't want you figuring out who it was that i liked.”

mark shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he did. his eyes were focused on you, considering his words and the situation at hand. as he looked at your face, he realized the sudden shift in the vibes between the two of you, which caught him off-guard.

you can't help but feel slightly upset at the fact that he kept this information hidden from you. it might be silly, but you felt weird knowing that he didn't tell you everything as you had imagined best friends supposed to do. you began to wonder if there were other things that he had kept from you over the years.

mark was observant, and the small shift in your smile wasn't wasted on him. he saw how your demeanor subtly changed as he spoke, and he could tell that you were a little hurt by the information he shared. he had to do something to correct the situation, and he couldn't let you misunderstand him.

"wait, wait, wait" he started quickly, "don't get it wrong...”

“no, no, i get it," you dismissed softly, waving your hands in a brushing-off motion, making it clear that you understood his hesitation. "it's fine," you added with a smile, laughing softly as coco stopped playing and came to greet you, sitting in front of you and waiting for your attention, which you gave to her, petting her head affectionately. “i know there are things we aren't comfortable sharing, and–"

"i like you!" mark's words spilled out of his mouth before he could think properly.

you froze, slowly looking at him with wide eyes, blinkling several times as your brain did a double take, trying to process if you'd heard him correctly. "what?" all you could manage to say in reply, confused and surprised by what he'd just confessed to you.

mark wasn't planning on doing it this way. a confession was supposed to be more romantic than this, maybe taking you to a nice dinner or to the amusement park, somewhere more special. he wanted it to be more meaningful than just letting it slip in the heat of the moment like he just did.

“look, I..." mark hesitated, unsure of how to begin his confession. oh god, he was so nervous, his heart pounding loudly in his chest, his hands clenched tightly in fists as sweat dripped down his back.

his mind was racing with a billion thoughts, his words refusing to come easily. how was he supposed to confess in this moment, when everything felt so overwhelming, when every fiber of his being was screaming at him to just say it and get it over with, but his fear of rejection was keeping him paralyzed.

“i-i haven't told you about that because... b-because you are the person i’ve loved since i can remember," mark struggles to get his words out, his breathing quickening as the words felt like they were getting stuck in his throat. "i love you so much that my heart hurts, you know?" he continues, his volume picking up a bit now that he's talking easier. "our friendship is so valuable, it's so precious to me... i-i didn't want to lose it.”

gosh, he sounded like such sappy romantic movie right now, yet it was all true. every single word, the words of a teenager who fell head-over-heels in love and knew that this was real, that this was more than just a crush, more than just attraction. mark was talking from his heart now, and he was opening up in ways he hadn't done with anyone before.

“i want you; i want the whole of you", he continues, his words becoming more and more passionate as he went on. "i don't care if it's selfish, but i want you, need you, i want you wholly and with everything inside of you. and maybe... yeah, maybe, that's really selfish of me, but it's the truth…”

mark felt like his heart was on the verge of exploding at any moment, as if he could drop dead from the overwhelming emotions running through his body, his face hot and red as if he were suffering heat exhaustion. but somehow, he felt a rush of relief, like an immense weight had been lifted off of his shoulders the instant he finally confessed to you.

coco was the only source of noise in the tense silence that hung between the two of you after mark's abrupt confession, her tongue lolling out as she stared back and forth between the both of you.

your jaw hung slightly open as you stared at mark, feeling like you could barely comprehend what had just happened. your insides went into overdrive, fluttering wildly while the infamous butterflies in your stomach fluttered like crazy, seemingly on a mission to take up even more space. you wanted to say something, anything, but the words got stuck in your throat. all you could manage to do was to stare at him, your heart racing ahead so fast that it felt like you could feel the pulsations.

your lack of response snaps mark back to reality, and he begins to panic, realizing that he may have completely misread the situation and ruined everything.

“b-but of course that's just how i feel... y-you don't have to like me back," he stutters quickly, hoping to fix the situation and make sure you wouldn't feel awkward. "if you d-don't feel comfortable around me anymore, i-it's okay, i understand, this was a complete mista—”

he couldn't finish his sentence because you silenced him with a kiss. your lips press together forcefully, making a soft 'smack' sound as they finally collide. he was tense for a moment, his eyes fluttering open as if surprised by your bold move, but he quickly relaxed, his hands gently cupping your face as he reciprocated the kiss, the warmth of his fingers seeping into your skin as he pressed his lips to yours.

he savored the sensation of your lips against his, the taste of your kiss sweeter than anything he had ever imagined. it felt surreal, like something out of a fantasy, and in that moment, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. the heat from your skin and the heat from your lips, the warmth that surrounded him as your bodies pressed against each other was intoxicating, a delicious rush that made his head swim. he wanted to lose himself in the moment forever, to stay lost in you for eternity.

yet, the inevitable finally struck and your lips parted as your lungs cried for air, the two of you panting heavily and staring at one another, both of you filled with delight as your sparkling eyes locked with each other.

“d...does that mean that you...?" mark couldn't seem to make his mind stop racing, not after that explosive kiss.

"are you really asking that question, mark?" you couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as you noticed him flustered.

"s-sorry... i'm just..." he was still feeling your lips against his, still getting lost in the sensation as the memories of the kiss were running through his head now.

"yes, I like you too, silly.”

right, he really was the happiest person in the world right now.

“can i have... another kiss?" mark looked at you with pleading eyes, wanting more but uncertain of his request would be granted. you didn't hesitate at all, responding quickly with "you don't even have to ask,” as you lean in toward mark to grant his wish.

but as you two are just inches away from locking lips again, coco's sudden jump into mark's lap catches the both of you off-guard, interrupting your almost-second kiss and making the two laugh as the adorable dog makes herself comfortable on his lap.

mark's hands immediately reach out to gently pet her, and when she spots your gaze on her, her tail waves proudly, as if she's very satisfied with the outcome of her interruption.

"of course she's jealous," you roll your eyes at the dog's favouritism for mark, making her way into his lap and immediately getting petted.

"well, she was my girl first, right?" mark said in a cute baby voice, prompting a happy bark from coco. "what am i to you, chopped liver?" you countered, raising an eyebrow and pretending to be upset.

mark looked at you and smiled, laughing at the silly argument. "i guess in her world, you really are, my dear," he teased, as he scratched coco behind the ear. "oh, that's it, you two." you laugh, shaking your head as you playfully punch mark's arm.

coco, sensing all the attention coming to her now, jumped out of mark's lap and walked towards you, demanding cuddles. "finally, she chose me over you," you said jokingly, and started petting her head. "by the way, you didn't even bring me some chocolates? what kind of confession is that?" you protested, pretending to be upset.

"a little box of chocolates wouldn't be enough to express everything i feel for you," he shrugged.

a soft smile still etched on your face, “my boyfriend is so cheesy, oh my god," you said, laughing. "i didn't know you had this side to you," you said gigling.

"please, say it again," mark begged suddenly.

"say what?" you asked, playing dumb.

"you know what i mean, say it again."

"that you are my boyfriend?" you raised an eyebrow, your eyes shining with mirth.

"jesus, can you please repeat it again?"

"you. are. my. boyfriend." you repeated lovingly.

“let me kiss you again, please," he pleaded, leaning forward eagerly.

the little back and forth had you laughing, feeling your heart melt a little each time his eyes twinkled with the flirty banter you were having. “hmm... what about we go back to my house and i give you many kisses, as much as you want and..." you lean in close, you voice lowered seductively as you whisper on his ear. "maybe even something more?”

mark's cheeks were flushed and his ears were burning, as he struggled to hold back the grin that plastered itself on his face. “t-then what are you waiting for?" he asked, quickly getting up. "it's cold out here; w-we should go back quickly!"

#mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct fluff

[kitkatscabinet]

I NEED more of the aegon x older sister AU!

Like what if Otto tried to send reader on a betrothal tour like Rhaenyra did? Or what if at a Tourney another knight asked for readers favor? Otto would be doing everything he possibly can to contain Aegon lol

Would Aegon still become the type of person he was in the show/books? Or would he try and become the best version of himself to impress reader?

What if, to try and separate Aegon and reader, Viserys sent reader to live with Daemon in Essos? Or sent to ward somewhere else? I bet once Aemond had Vhagar Otto would try to use him to keep Aegon from flying to reader.

This somehow took a wholesome turn???

The beautiful unwed Targaryen princess??? you best believe noblemen and knights alike are lining up and down the block just to get a glimpse. Yours is always the first favour to be asked for. I'd imagine there would be people willing to move down in the lists for the opportunity to get to you first.

Aegon goes fucking feral every single time and it's getting harder and harder to keep him on a leash. He is practically sitting on top of you at this point. No matter how hard Otto or Viserys try Aegon will never accept any seat other than the one next to yours. Fingers entwined with yours, head resting on your shoulder- breathing in the oils you'd been bathed in.

He has no shame, the moment you sit back down after offering a favour or even speaking to another man he's either pulling you back down into his lap, or leaning in to place kisses against your face, neck, hands anything he can reach. All the while glaring murder at whoever had the audacity to even look at you.

Gods forbid Otto ships you off to be a ward somewhere or even worse on a tour like Rhaenyra's. He's been plied up with wine so he doesn't notice your departure until you have long since been shipped off.

It's a miracle that King's Landing doesn't burn that day.

Aegon's screams echo through the keep and anything that he can get his hands on is destroyed. rip Otto's belongings.

In the dragon pit Sunfyre is having his own fit. He eats three people and burns a lot more and for once your dragon isn't interested in stopping him.

The second he figures out where you are he is making a break for the dragon pit and it takes a surprising amount of the King's guard to prevent it. He has to be locked in his own chambers which amounts to days of screaming and a completely trashed room.

Luckily Aemond is all too happy to offer his assistance. He’s grown up seeing how you are with Aegon and even to a lesser extent him and Helaena and he thinks it normal. So he’s also quite upset big sis got sent away.

The arrival of Vhagar at whatever poor Lord's keep you've found yourself in is enough to deter many of the more cowardly lords. Aemond is also smart enough to play up his time with you and is content to sit in your lap like a baby instead of the 13-year-old he is.

Being the dutiful princess you are, you finish the tour. Though it quickly becomes more of a strained formality as Aemond has become your personal glaring necklace and Vhagar looms threateningly.

As for the kind of person Aegon is. You would never allow your beloved baby brother to fall into the pit he has in the show. You keep him away from wine and ale, he is not even allowed to drink a few glasses until he is past 16.

He has no desire to indulge in whores, that just means more time spent away from you after all. But I do imagine him getting frustrated/wanting to know how to bets please you and as such will pay a few visits to the streets of silk. He'll never finish inside any of them though. You are the only person that will ever bear his children.

With your constant stream of adoration and reassurance he is nowhere near as bad mentally as he is in the books/show.

You are just as scary as Aegon and the first time you catch Alicent yelling or laying hands on him he is still young and after you threaten grievous harm to her person she will never do such again.

You also aren't above whispering into your father's ears. Turning him and your younger siblings against Alicent and Otto. It takes you a while but you get Otto sacked and by some miracle you get Corlys to replace him.

Your close relationship with your younger siblings has given Rhaenyra a lot of forced exposure to them too. And though she is concerned about Aegon's possessiveness she understands how he feels.

She comes to adore Helaena and Jace being the sweet boy he is does too. so that's two pairs of children enamoured with each other and I think this is when Alicent starts to break free from Otto's brainwashing.

Everyone always hcs Aemond and Daemon as becoming close in these kinds of aus but I'm gonna say it. Aemond and Rhaenyra are a top tier pair. He loves his mother, but her love has still always been somewhat conditional and now he has this mother figure that simply loves him for being him and he can't get enough of it.

Rhaenyra and Alicent reconnect thanks to your machinations and now Aemond's like sweet, two mums!

But now there's just this whole clan of overly freakish possessive Targaryen's that you have accidentally allowed to reign free. Daemon comes back and is pissed, this is kind of all he's ever wanted and his family has just done it without him???

don't usually tag on these kinds of posts but cause this is so long:

@etherily @psychwardsiren @mihrimahsultan03 @bbyaemond @krispold @hyperfixated-freak @eudximoniakr @deadstarkblacksoul @thelittleswanao3

#aegon x older sister #aegon targaryen ii x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii hcs

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Other Half Part Six

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Notes: This is going to feed into an ask that was sent to me. Just needed to build that bridge, ya know.

Warnings: Some fluff; mostly angst. Soz. Whoops. Not beta-read.

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Minors interacting with this work will be blocked.

Summary: You can’t know what he does—you can’t ever know. You could be in enough danger as it is if you’re ever connected to Bruce Wayne; he can’t imagine the repercussions if you were somehow associated with Batman. 

“So, who is she?” 

Liz asks it with a knowing, cat-like smile on her lips, brow arching. The question raises Bruce’s hackles, but he manages to keep a calm, serene smile on his lips. 

“Who’s who?” He bats back unblinkingly. It takes everything in him to hold still, to keep his gaze on Liz’s, his hand steady on his glass of wine. She doesn’t blink first; she doesn’t laugh it off or change the topic. She waits. For ten long, uncomfortably quiet seconds, they both wait—until her boyfriend asks Bruce to pass the bread, and the date that Liz arranged for Bruce comes back from the bathroom, asking what she’s missed.

--  

“Why are you still up?” 

“Why are you calling if you didn’t want to talk to me?” 

Bruce can’t help but smile. Sure, he’d asked a stupid question, but you sound so damn sleepy and soft. He can just imagine you at his place, curled up in his bed, wearing another one of his borrowed shirts. He leans against the wall of one of Liz’s bathrooms, eyeing the door. 

“I want to talk to you,” He murmurs. “But I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“You didn’t. I was just watching tv.” 

“You sound like you were sleeping.”

“I was just resting my eyes.” 

“Sure you were.” 

“Don’t get sassy with me, Bruce Wayne. I know where you live. Hell—I am where you live.” 

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. If you do, tell Alfred, he’ll—” 

“It’s late. I’m not makin’ Alfred do anything. ‘Sides, if I want anything, I’ll get it for myself.” 

“So stubborn.” 

“Stubborn?” 

“Stubborn, yes you are.” 

“This from a man who rented out an entire restaurant and then took me to Burger King because I said he wouldn’t.” 

“That’s not stubbornness. It’s being decisive.” 

“Well I have decided that if I want anything, I’ll get it myself, and I won’t ask Alfred.” 

Bruce chuckles softly, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. 

“Alright,” He concedes, nodding and looking down at his feet. 

“Are you having a nice time with your friends?” 

Bruce glances toward the door, pursing his lips and considering. 

“Yeah,” He says, “Liz’s boyfriend is nice.” 

“Mind telling the paparazzi that?” 

Bruce smiles. “I’ll send out an email.” 

“Perfect.” 

“‘Liz Wyatt is unequivocally not dating Bruce Wayne’.” 

“Should be enough to satisfy Mich.” 

“Is that what matters to you?” 

“No, of course not.” 

He tries not to find the way you rush over your words so precious. 

“I was teasing,” He offers before you feel the need to explain yourself. 

“Ugh—That is not nice, Wayne. Wake a girl up and you start teasing her.” 

“I thought you were just watching tv.” 

“...I’m hanging up now,” You grumble. “Go—Be fancy-schmancy and rich and attractive with your fancy-schmancy and rich and attractive friends.” 

“Text me if you need anything before I come back. ‘kay?” 

“Not Alfred?” 

“Not Alfred.” 

“I will. Keep it down when you come in?” 

“Sure,” Bruce smiles, shifting from foot to foot. Then, against his better judgement, “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do…Mwah.” 

Bruce chuckles before he hangs up, lowering his phone. He looks down at your contact, and the little photo he has of you there. He draws in a deep breath before he reaches down, unlocking the door and opening it. 

“Shit—” He hisses, jumping as he catches sight of Liz standing there, waiting. “This apartment is huge. Do you not have any other bathrooms?” 

“So who is she?” Liz plies.

“How thin is that door?” 

“Bruce.” 

“...Just someone I’ve been seeing.” 

“Who is…?” 

“What’s it matter?” 

“Explains why you didn’t so much as glance at Cici at dinner.” 

“That’s not true. I glanced at her plenty.” 

“C’mon, Bruce, you know that that’s not what I mean.” She glances over Bruce before proclaiming: “I wanna meet her.” 

“What for?” 

“Because when was the last time you ever dated someone? You didn’t even do that in college. Besides, you’ve met my boyfriend.” 

“And that was your choice.” 

“Are you ashamed of her or something?” 

The question punches him in the middle of the chest, his expression hardening. He’s taken hits from crowbars, guns, and baseball bats that have hurt less. 

“Of course I’m not.” It leaves him with a thread of steel that he’s never heard in his own voice—not outside of the suit, anyway. 

“Good,” Liz’s smile is as bright and as steady as ever. “I wanna meet her. Bring her over here for dinner, we’ll double.” 

“If I bring her, I don’t want this to be an interrogation.” 

“It won’t be an interrogation. It’ll be dinner.” 

Liz is still pointing that smug, satisfied little smile at him. She knows he won’t back down from a challenge, not like this. 

He’s too damn stubborn. 

-- 

Dawn is just beginning to creep over the city as he climbs into bed with you at the penthouse. The room is pitch-black; he can hardly make out your form under the sheets. He feels your warmth as he lifts the covers; he cuddles in close, curling his body around yours. He smiles as you stir, as you press back against his chest and rest a hand on his. 

“Bruce?” 

You're mumbling, and your voice is a little rough in a way that it wasn't on the phone last night. Maybe you had only been resting your eyes when he called, just on the edge of sleep on his couch. 

“Mhm,” He hums, gently wiggling his fingers against yours. 

“You just gettin’ in now?” 

Bruce rests his head between your shoulder blades, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

“Of course not.” 

The lie is as blatant, as plain to him as the nose on his face. But you can’t know what he does—you can’t ever know. You could be in enough danger as it is if you’re ever connected to Bruce Wayne; he can’t imagine the repercussions if you were somehow associated with Batman. 

“Just got up to use the bathroom,” He tacks on. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“S’okay,” You murmur, pushing back against him again. 

“Go back to sleep.”

“Mmmkay.” Your grip tightens on his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. Bruce smiles, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He’ll worry about Liz and everything else in the morning…Well. Later in the morning. 

--  

“You busy tonight?” 

“You sound like you’ve been gargling with rocks,” You laugh, glancing up toward the door of the stockroom. “Are you just getting up now?” 

“No. No, been up before, and then uh…Down again. What time is it?” 

“It’s almost two in the afternoon.” 

“Oh, that’s not so bad.” 

“Frickin’ billionaires,” You mutter, scrubbing your hand over your face. 

“So?” Bruce pushes on, “You busy?” 

“Depends.”

“On?” 

“What you have in mind.” 

“Dinner with Liz?” 

You blink slowly, stunned. Dinner with her? Why the heck would Bruce want to bring you to dinner with Liz Wyatt? She’s all glamorous, and cool, and you’re…You. You work in a store, you’re not like Liz. You’re not even like Bruce. You don’t realize how long you’ve been in your own head until Bruce says, “...Hello? Are you—” The words drift away, like he's looking at his phone, then back in, “Are you still there?” 

“Yes! Yeah, sorry, I was, uh—” You clear your throat. “I got distracted.” 

“So? You busy?” 

“Uh…” You glance around the room, like there’s a good answer scrawled on the wall somewhere. Your mouth works wordlessly for a moment before you manage, “N-no. I mean, no, I’m not busy.” 

“Great. I can pick you up from work?” 

“I should get changed after work, not, uh—My place? I mean, what time does she expect us over? Should I bring something? I can get a—” 

“Okay,” Bruce chuckles on the other side of the phone, halting your panicked questions. “We don’t have to go.” 

“No, we can go, I just—” 

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart.” 

“I’m breathing just fine—” 

“We’ll do it another night—or not at all, if you don't want to.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t wanna go, I just—You know, I’m processing.” 

“Sounds like you’re freaking out.” 

“I’m not freaking out! I’m asking questions. I am asking relevant questions.” 

“You’re also repeating yourself.” 

“...We can go,” You insist. “I just need to get ready.” 

“Alright.” 

“How fancy should I dress?” 

“It’s just dinner at her place, you don’t have to get all…you know.” 

“Well, what are you wearing?” 

“Right now? Not much.” 

“Bruce.” 

“You should come back.” 

“What, right now?” 

“Mhm.”

“I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Alright—Hey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“...It’s gonna be fine.” 

You nod, though Bruce can’t see you. 

“I know,” You agree. “I wasn’t worried. I’m not worried.” 

“You’re doing that repeating thing again.” 

“Really hanging up now.” 

You draw your phone away from your ear, peering down at it warily for a moment. Dinner with Liz Wyatt. What do you wear to a model’s house? What do you bring to a model’s house? Oh, there’s gotta be answers for this all over Quora. 

--  

“You look beautiful.” 

“...Well don’t sound too surprised,” You grumble, straightening your sweater before turning to go back into the apartment. “I need like two more minutes, I just have to get on my earrings and my shoes.” 

“Those flowers for Liz?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Nice choice. She loves carnations.” 

“I know. I did some googling,” You admit guiltily, taking up one of the earrings from the table and putting it in. 

“Are they in a vase?” Bruce tacks in, tapping his finger against the glass of it. 

“Mhm. Keeps her from having to go and find one when we get there.” 

“Clever.” 

“I’m very smart.” 

“I know that.” 

You smile as you raise your other earring, fastening it. You glance back as Bruce cuddles up behind you and pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“...We really don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, brow furrowing. 

“...You’re making me think that you’re the one that doesn’t want to go,” You manage after a moment, glancing back at Bruce. He shakes his head, resting his hands on your hips. 

“I’m just making sure...Guess it’s time you met a couple of my friends, anyway. I’ve met yours.” 

“You’ve met one friend,” You argue, chuckling. 

“Mm. Where is Michelle?” 

“Work.” 

“She know where we’re going tonight?” 

“Nope, I just said we were getting dinner.” You reach out, taking up your jacket from where it’s hung over the back of your kitchen chair.  “If Liz is amenable, I’ll send Mish a selfie later, maybe surprise the shit out of her.” 

“All set?—I’ve got them,” Bruce reaches out, taking hold of the flower vase before you can pick them up. 

“Thanks. Is Alfred downstairs?” 

“Nope, I’m drivin’.” 

“Fancy.” 

--  

“...Is Liz’s apartment like yours?” You ask, shifting in the passenger seat. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just, you know…Big, and…Nice.” 

“Yes, it’s both of those.” 

“Okay.” 

“Why?” 

“Just—Need to prepare myself so that my jaw doesn’t drop when I get inside.” 

“Your jaw didn’t drop when you got to my place.” 

“It was frozen shut at that point...Speaking of which,” You tack on, “Power’s fully up and running again, so I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“...You can stay if you want.” 

“In your hair?” 

Bruce casts you a side-long smile. “I just mean you can stay over whenever you like.” 

You smile, sliding down in your seat a little. “Noted, thank you…And you’re always welcome at ours, though it’s not as nice.” 

“Your bed’s comfy.” 

“That’s true.” 

You glance out of the tinted window, watching the swankiest skyscrapers in Gotham fly by. You feel Bruce take your hand, and a smile unwittingly grows on your lips.

“Shouldn’t you have both hands on the wheel, Mr. Wayne?” 

“I’ve got it,” He reassures. You hum in concession, grasping his hand with both of yours. You close your eyes, drawing in a deep breath. 

“We can—” 

“Don’t say we can still turn around,” You warn. 

“Alright.” 

You open your eyes, tipping your head to the side and watching Bruce. 

“Do you want to turn around?” You offer.

“No.” 

“Okay, so…We’re agreed.” 

You loosen your grasp on Bruce’s hand, sliding down in your seat a little more and resting your head on your hand. It’s a moment before Bruce pats your thigh, then draws his hand back. You’d actually managed to shake some of your nerves, but Bruce’s repeated insistence that you don’t have to go to dinner is making you more and more nervous. You draw in a deep breath and hold it for a few moments before you slowly push it back out. 

“Okay,” You hear Bruce mutter. You frown as he pulls into a street space, and glance around. 

“We can’t be here already,” You frown as he puts the car in park. 

“Listen,” Bruce turns in his seat to face you. Your stomach flips with nerves, and you brace yourself. “I’ve never introduced anyone to Liz—Or, to most of my friends. Not anyone that I've been more serious about.” 

Your brows raise at his admission. He's serious—about you? Bruce reaches out, taking hold of your hand again. 

“I’m sorry if I’m freaking you out," He adds, "But I don’t know what we’re in for, either.” 

“...You’re nervous?” You realize, stunned. 

“Am I not allowed?” 

“Come on, you know that that’s not what I mean,” You mutter. You sigh, looking down at his hand again, turning your hand over in his, intertwining your fingers. 

“...I didn’t even consider the fact that you might be nervous,” You admit. You raise your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. Your nerves flare as Bruce slips his hand from yours, but he takes hold of your jaw, turning your head and leaning in. He gives you a gentle kiss, thumb sweeping your cheek. You smile, patting his cheek as he draws back. 

 “We’re gonna be fine.” 

-- 

Dinner’s not bad—in fact, it’s quite nice. It’s catered. You’d typically ask if there’s anything that you could do to help with prep, but there’s an officious staff of three flurrying around Liz’s restaurant-grade kitchen. Liz is quite nice herself, but she and Bruce can sometimes make you feel a little on the outside. You don’t think they’re doing it on purpose—they have a shared history, a longer history than you have with Bruce. 

On the other hand, Liz’s boyfriend is lovely. He gives you smiles when the two of you are in the same conversational boat, watching as Bruce and Liz chatter on on topics that neither of you are familiar with. He lobs easy questions at you, backs Liz down from touchier questions, and keeps the wine and conversation flowing. You actually start to enjoy yourself, until—

“So you two are going to the gala together, of course.” 

Liz’s boyfriend grimaces, eyes flicking to you apologetically. It seems he can’t back her down from that one quickly enough. Your brow furrows, a smile frozen on your face as you repeat, “Gala?” 

“For the Wayne Foundation! Oh, don’t tell me Bruce didn’t tell you,” Liz glances between you and Bruce chastisingly. You turn your head to look at Bruce. He still has a smile on his face, but it’s that plasticized smile he gave your manager, and accompanied by a tight jaw. He won’t even meet your eye—hell, he’s not meeting anyone’s eye. 

“Bruce,” Liz tacks on scoldingly, “You haven’t even given her time to prepare. She’ll hardly have time to get a dress now—Leave that to me,” She adds, leaning in and resting her hand atop yours. “I know all the designers in Gotham, I’m sure they can rush something by the 21st.” 

“Oh,” You force yourself to laugh, shaking your head, “You know what—He did, but I’ve got work that night.” 

“Surely you can take off.” 

“I really can’t,” You insist. “My manager doesn’t like me very much. She barely forgave me for disappearing with Bruce for my lunch hour.” 

“What!” Liz’s eyes brighten as she leans back. “Oh, I have to hear that story.” 

It’s a safe enough diversion. You feel Bruce watching you; you don’t dare turn to fully meet his gaze, though you glance at him every now and again. Your mouth works on autopilot, but your mind is racing. Was Bruce even going to tell you about this? Or was this going to be one of those things that he does—those nights when he just goes off and acts like Bruce Wayne at before crawling into bed with you just before dawn? 

Frankly, you’re not sure which you’d prefer.

Next Part

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #The Other Half

[garfinkelstingle]

matthew's letter to james

hi, i was bored and decided to transcribe the additional letter from matthew to james from the waterstone edition of chain of thorns!

thanks to the peeps out there posting pictures of it, you're the true heroes!

Dear James,

When we talked about my trip, and the places I wished to see, you may recall that--while I wished to be beholden to no agenda or itinerary--I did say there were three cities in Europe I would die rather than miss: Vienna. Berlin. And of course, Venice. Your eyes lit up when I mentioned the latter, and I promised to send you word of the City of Masks when I arrived.

Well, I have been here for three days and I wish to share with you my impressions of the city. As one wanders, one discovers quickly that there are two modes of line in Venice: wet and quiet, or wet and loud. I have, as you would imagine, kept myself to its loudest parts.

It is a city beloved of mermaids, obviously, and in general Downworld is dominated by the fishier side of Faerie. You may ask, do I mean the aquatic parts, or do I mean the dodgy parts? And to that I say, sir, I mean both. Never have I seen so many mermaids, and never have I seen more complex scheming. Within moments of arriving at one of their fames half-sunk tavernas, I was drawn into three assassination plots, two blackmails, and a plot to steal a large sapphire owned by someone named "Il Granchio," who turned out to not just be named after but to actually be himself a giant talking crab. What marvels I have missed by remaining in sodden old London. I have never been threatened with having my head pinched off before, and I daresay it has fortified my character.

As with every other city I visit, I have had to spend half my time dodging local Shadowhunters. The local Institute is always very welcoming, and by "welcoming" I mean they wish to put me on patrol. But this is not my travel year and I am not visiting the world's most interesting places in order to patrol them, or to fight their demons at all, really.

(Obviously if a demon crosses my path, I will dispatch it posthaste. I am still a Nephilim born and bred, and thus feel a certain amount of demon-focused violence is good for the blood. Nevertheless, I have found that one does not need to wander the streets of a city to encounter its dangers. Instead I have followed the strategy of going directly to a city's most unsavory places, where trouble will regularly appear without much fuss on my part.)

The only thing worse than Shadowhunters who want to hunt demons with me, are Shadowhunters who want to Put a Word in My Ear because I have "access" to the Consul. As though when I speak to my mother she wishes me to convey the minor grievances of a bureaucrat from Turin. No, she wants to know if I am eating enough (I am) and whether I am wearing the scarf she knitted for me (I am not). If the Continental Shadowhunters wish to politic they will have to wait for Charles to come through. That's their punishment for taking life too seriously.

On a slightly more sober note--as it were--it is difficult to debauch through the world without the social lubrication of drink. I suppose I knew that before I set out, but the reality can be hard to bear. Everywhere I go I am plied with drink, which I must decline, explaining that I have come not for the alcohol but only for the gambling and the perversion. Even on the rare occasion when I have been unable to avoid visiting an Institute they inevitably drag out the dustiest bottle in their cellar and I must rush to stop them before they open it for a guest who cannot appreciate it.

The problem is that nobody seems to understand why one might not wish to drink. It is very frustrating. Everyone recognizes that one can drink to excess and need to stop for the sake of one's health, but to encounter such a person in reality bewilders them. And I can hardly order water in the sorts of places I am visiting. As a result, I have become a great consumer of black coffee, which I down by the ucketful so as to be seen imbibing something. Unfortunately, this means I now require several large cups of the stuff a day just to keep myself upright. I suppose a dependency on coffee is much less debilitating than a dependency on drink. At the very least it is less dangerous to one's health, by which I mean I have never yet drunk a pot of coffee and awoken on the cold stone steps of a baptistry wrapped in the Union Jack, which I cannot say is true of my time as a drinker of liquor. It nevertheless makes me a bit of a figure of scrutiny, the Englishman who turns down drink. I have begun to tell the especially insistent that I am under a faerie curse and if ever liquor should touch my mouth I shall transform into a badger. I tell you, I look forward to later in the year when I shall be in countries where the mundanes' religion prohibits alcohol. Although I imagine the coffee consumption will only rise.

But I was speaking of Venice, somewhere on an earlier page. You shall have to tell Pickles at the Devil that here there is no need to bring a tub with you to soak in, for the Downworld bars are mostly half-sunk into the lagoon and one sits with one's lower half in water and one's upper half at a table. This is an excellent arrangement for the mermaids and a terrible arrangement for anyone else. The werewolves go around looking like drowned rats half the time.

In addition to the continued popularity of drink and debauch, Venice is also mad for seances. (In this it resembles most other places I have visitied; the whole continent seems mad for ghosts these days. What a career Jesse could have had had he remained disembodied.) I ran into Madame Dorothea yesterday while in a dimly-lit lounge of poor reputation playing Trappola. (Because what goes better with card-playing than dire warning and demands from one's dead family members?) This is not the first time I have seen her on my travels--like me, she appears to be touring. I encountered her first in a brown café in Rotterdam and then again at a floating cabaret on the Rhine a few weeks ago. Both times I could barely see her through the tobacco smoke, but I did get to witness her admonishing a vampire that his late mother was very disappointed in him because she had expected him to become a lawyer.

By this our fourth encounter, Dorothea and I nodded knowingly to each other as fellow-travelers, and she asked me directly if there was anyone I wished to speak to. I demurred, but she was insistent, and having singled me out the crowd demanded I follow through. I searched my mind for anyone whose messages would not be potentially harmful to my good mood, and finally asked her if I could speak with Oscar Wilde. (The man, not the dog, of course; Oscar Wilde the dog awaited me loyally at the pensione as usual.)

At this point I had no doubt about the genuine power possessed by Dorothea, and so when a gruff but cultured voice emanated from that lady's mouth I knew at one it was him. Of course I immediately went off my head and said the only thing I could think of, which, foolishly, was that I thought he would sound more Irish.

Rather dryly he informed me that he had deliberately put aside his accent while at Oxford, and that he hoped I had not called him back from sailing beyond the sunset in order to complain about his diction. (He got quite enough of that from the ghost of his sister, apparently.) I told him no, but that I wished him to know that his House of Pomegranates had been a formative text for me in my youth. Which was a terrible understatement of the importance of his writing to me, but I could think of nothing else. I felt a fool the moment I said it.

Rather acidly he told me that he no longer concerned himself much with notices or reviews, being dead. At this point Dorothea's body-language showed that the spirit was becoming restless, and the crowd was on his side. More politely than I deserved, he suggested that I might wish to ask him for some advice, or at least wisdom, that he might provide from his side of the veil.

Struck, I blurted out, "In the past I have made so many errors, have caused so much hurt. Can I make up for them? Will I carry them with me forever, or can they ever be left behind in the past?"

At this the crowd became hushed. This was not what they had come to see, but at least it was more interesting than my telling a specter ripped from beyond the void that I liked his work.

Oscar gazed at me--I had no doubt it was him, behind Dorothea's eyes, and I will not soon forget the frisson I felt as he sized me up. Finally, he spoke, and his voice was gentle.

"I see from your cravat," he said, "that you are a man of the world."

I allowed that his observation was accurate.

"And I see from your eyes," he went on, "that you mean to live a grand life. That you have already begun to do so, in fact."

"I do," I told him. "I have."

"To live magnificently," Oscar said, as though carefully choosing his words, "means that your joys will be magnificent, but so too will be your pains. You will celebrate grandly and you will suffer grandly. Such is the covenant of such a life."

"Is it worth it?" said I.

He appeared to shrug. "You can see how it has turned out for me," he said. "Nevertheless, I would not exchange my fate for another. Epictetus said that a man is not made by his circumstances; rather, his circumstances reveal him to himself. I may be paraphrasing," he added, and I thought I head him mutter something to the effect, "Look at me. Dead and still quoting."

Now he took in his surroundings. "Next time you seek me out," he said, "pray do so in a place less chill and damp. I may not feel it, but I still appreciate a decent ambience."

And then he was gone.

I tell you, James, I had little expectation when I asked Dorothea to call upon him, but I left that chill and damp taverna greatly inspired. I share these words with you because, while you are not one to descend into the damp and chill places of the world for the sake of a party, as I am, your life is also grand, and like me you are destined to love grandly, to suffer grandly, and to celebrate grandly. I want you to know that Oscar Wilde says it is worth the trouble. And that I believe him.

The only real sorrow of my travels, of course, is the pangs I feel in being absent from you. Parabatai separated are always missing a bit of themselves, and I carry that lack with me wherever I go. I continue forth to seek more experiences, but I promise to return to you in time, and, I hope, the wiser for it.

Pray give my love to Cordelia, to Lucie, to Thomas and yes, even to Alastair. I miss you all very much, and hope that you are keeping London well for me while I am away. Be well and the Angel protect you.

Love,

Matthew

#chain of thorns #chain of thorns spoilers #chot #chot spoilers #matthew fairchild #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #lucie herondale #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #christopher lightwood #grace blackthorn #jesse blackthorn #herondaisy #cassandra clare #cassie clare #will herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs

[good-oldfashioned-lover]

@re-is-back-in-black @silence-between-seconds @her-midas-touch @daydream-of-a-wallflower @not-rab @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl @thedvilsinthedetails @dementorfromazkaban @harry-potter-just-posted

Tagging all you guys because I mostly actively talk to you.

I am 51 days away from my exam which means it's time for me to start getting my shit together. (it is insanely stupid how they make us take one (1) exam that'll quite literally determine our whole life when we're so young tf that's so messed up)

I'll be deleting tumblr til then. Ik I promised you guys a smut fic but istg I'll come back with atleast 3 smutfics to maybe make up for it? *laughs casually in obvious attempt to conceal my guilt spiral on leaving you guys "High and dry"

@multishipperofgaydeadwizards dw I didn't forget you lmao I just wanted to say that I'm gonna come back with SO MANY wierd ass ships just be ready I'm gonna make up for 2 months of absence muahahaha

Wtaf guys- I had insta for like a year or so before i had to delete it for same reason but I wasn't 1/8th nearly as emotional and I am now and I've had tumblr for only like 2 and half months now sndkdkdndfjjdjdkdn

Ik some of you guys sent me messages but I'm gonna have to come back to them because the more I stay the more I'll chicken out of deleting because I love you guys so much aaaaaaahhhhh

Please spam me with a shit ton of stuff to come back hehe <3 {but like only in my asks and messages plis coming back to two months worth of mentions will just send me into a dysfunctional spiral💀 wow am I so easy to manage? (/sarcastic)}

I love you guys sooo much and I'm gonna miss you and I'll most definitely cry later today hehehehehe

*dramatic whisper* this isn't goodbye. This is just a see you in a bit * sparkles sparkles* *dramatic whoosh of the cloak and I dissappear into the darkness*

~💋

#sivspeaks #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #im gonna miss you guys #i didnt even feel this bad during my graduation #lies #but like it feels almost the same #even tho this isnt as permanent as the other #😭😭😭 #also anyone and everyone stay away from my wife🔪✨️ #siri and ari do me a favour #keep spamming kat with 💃🏻 for me will ya

[boundinparchment]

For the fanfiction trope: 77 and 23 with Pantalone and someone of your choice (reader, oc, canon character, whatever) Feeling like a little devil on your shoulder 💙

77. In Vino Veritas  

23. Performer AU

Hosts are part of the entertainment industry and thus performers; Pantalone plies you with champagne to speak truthfully.

—————

At this hour, the club was packed with patrons. The air was buzzing with orders and chatter and an energy that bounced and darted between every table.

You were surprised that you were able to extend your time as much as you had. Usually, there were strict time limitations, especially with the head host and manager who rarely sat at a table himself. Tonight was a remarkable exception that had your mind swimming from both the champagne and the glances of pure envy you felt creeping up your neck.

Attentive, your host filled your glass again, a playful sparkle in his eyes. The accent lights cast his hair into a delicate shade of purple, perfectly offset by eyes of molten mora. Although your mind was hazy, you knew the expression on his face well; he intended to pry you open and cradle your heart, leave you begging for more.

He had done it the first night, although you’d been stone cold sober and too stiff for it to truly work. It had taken you three weeks to return after that initial meeting and ask for him specifically. Your heart’s rhythm never quite recovered from the way he’d tilted his head and smiled, complimented you like no other partner had.

“My dear, why did you ask for me?”

So straightforward. Like an arrow. Or more like a bullet aimed right for your soul.

And yet he said it with the most charming smile, eyes crinkled as he looked at you. You couldn’t recall the last time a lover looked at you with such intrigue, with such fascination, or even the last time anyone even…

You giggled, the room spinning a little as you tried to control your tongue. Everything felt so slow, almost like you were frozen in time, and you took a sip of champagne to give you a final bit of bubbly courage.

“You pay attention,” you said, placing your glass down on the table with a ‘clack’.

Your limbs didn’t want to work anymore but that was okay. You turned your head back to him, the act feeling so much slower than it truly was, sending your line of vision into whiplash for a moment; blinking, everything seemed to settle again and your host remained listening, his eyebrows a little higher now.

“The first night was a fluke-you were filling in for someone else on the list who wasn’t available,” you continued. “But I picked you because of…”

You opened a hand and gestured vaguely to his entire personage before you pointed at his face. Your arm wavered, the alcohol having seeped into every cell in your body.

“Because of the way you listen. No one listens. No one sees me.”

“But I do.”

Your grinned so wide your face felt like it was splitting in two as you poked his chest, right near his tie clip.

“You do, Pantalone. You always do.”

Just a role to play, you reminded yourself. That was his job. To listen, to placate, to entertain and socialize.

Your eyes burned.

“But you deserve someone to listen to you, too. Here you are, entertaining people and hearing about their lives and who they are…but who listens to you?”

He took your hand in his own. They were warm and soft, the hands of a man who cared for himself. His lips against your knuckles were warmer, scalding even, and you felt your body betray you for a second when your heart practically stopped.

“You worry too much, my dear. I have you to listen in return, do I not? Or have I always misread your kindness?”

He pulled the glass away when you reached for it, cutting you off for the evening. For a fraction of a second, you caught a flicker of something else before his smile widened and his charm returned. That familiar twinkle in his eye made your mouth run dry.

“Perhaps next time, we can share a meal together. I know a lovely place nearby that serves some of the best desserts outside of Fontaine.”

#fatui pantalone #pantalone #x reader #pantalone x reader #idk I don’t wanna tag this too much because it’s a quick bit

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

julia, on a wednesday

the following weekend, julia spent time at a beach house with jim's family. seeing pictures on instagram, annie immediately understood why julia had grown the landing strip. she had a small white bikini on in every photo, and in the ones where it was wet, the landing strip was extremely visible.

annie texted her to ask how it went over. "i'm very popular with his dad and brother now," she replied. "his mom doesn't really look at me. but she also walked in on jim fucking me."

robbie was home again that weekend, and so annie was at ted's, fucking him every few hours, getting stoned with lucy, and sending nudes to robbie, and to julia, and to jim. she's started doing this on a thread with julia, but now frequently sent jim her own pics, and he replied with pictures of his cock in julia and his cum on her skin. annie loved being horny about jim with julia. "i love your fiance's cock," she would text her.

jim let her know that his brother had sent him a kind of horny text about being able to see julia's landing strip through her bikini, and annie had encouraged him to send his brother a picture of julia naked. his brother had reciprocated with a picture of his wife.

"it's fucking crazy," jim said. "i've known this woman for a decade, she is the mother of my niece and nephew, and how i know what her tits and bush look like."

"amazing," annie replied. "you're welcome."

when julia returned, she and annie began shopping for the wedding. dress shopping was so fun. the women plied you with champagne, and when they picked up on annie and julia's flirty energy, often joined right in. particularly claire, a sales clerk in her mid-20s who annie sensed was in this job for the joy of it and not the money. as they chatted annie learned that claire was an aspiring event-planner.

julia was changing into dresses right in front of them, in a thong and lace bra, and when annie expressed interest in trying on a dress, claire encouraged her to, so she also stripped to her white panties and pink bra. when claire mentioned that one dress was the one she'd pick, annie begged her to try it on. she tried not to look too hungrily at claire as she slipped out of her black dress. her trimmed pubic hair stuck out a bit around her thong and her very light, nearly invisible nipples poked out a bit from the top of her bra.

"you're so fucking hot," annie told her.

annie had slipped her her number as they left, no decisions yet made. claire texted her an hour later as she and julia were getting early afternoon drinks.

"i don't normally eat pussy but do you want to get together so i can eat your pussy?" claire had texted. "i have a boyfriend so you know, hush hush."

"yes please," annie had replied.

she met claire at her apartment an hour later. the girl seemed nervous but eager. robbie was out, so they went straight to the bed, and claire let annie undress her.

they fucked for three hours -- sweaty, wild, energetic. they kissed and touched and grinded and licked and spit and gasped. annie loved claire's body -- she was tall and thin, like annie, with similarly big breasts and pale skin. the hair on her head was shorter and her pussy was hairier but those were the main differences.

"that was the best fuck of my life," claire told annie in the shower after.

"me too," annie said.

she met ted for dinner that night, and then couldn't manage to cum on his cock after. she faked an orgasm anyway. when she was done, she texted claire.

"i just fucked my boyfriend and it was so boring," she said.

"ditto," claire replied. "i think you made me fucking gay."

a long, hard morning fuck with ted helped annie feel her heterosexuality again. he put his thumb up her ass and she screamed his name so many times her throat hurt. when he came in her mouth, it was soothing to swallow it. ted wandered out to the kitchen after with his dick out, saying good morning to lucy on his way to the bathroom.

her first patient of the morning on thursday was marie, a bored housewife that annie was trying to get interested in hobbies outside of her home. she seemed to feel obligated to do nothing but chores and was collapsing inward. every week annie noticed it felt like less of her personality was coming through.

"marie," annie asked. "do you ever... masturbate?"

marie looked a little taken aback. "what kind of question is that?"

"i just think maybe it would be good for you to relax a little," annie said. "and that's one way I do it."

"i don't need to know that about you," marie said.

"it's OK," annie said. "it's normal, real life stuff."

"i was raised to not to do that," marie said.

"really?"

"self-pleasure is a sin. my father told me."

"well, i was not raised religiously," annie said. "my parents thought it was a good way to keep me from having premarital sex."

"did it work?" marie asked. "you're not married."

annie laughed. "no, it didn't work. i have a lot of premartial sex."

marie grinned despite herself. "i mean, i did too. with my now husband."

"you little sinner, you," annie said. "i know it sounds strange to get a presecription like this... but seriously. try touching yourself."

"i am genuinely not sure i know how."

annie laughed. "just feel around until something feels good, and then keep doing that."

marie said she would try.

after the session, annie checked her phone. she had a message from claire, a picture of herself masturbating.

that night jim texted annie that he and his brother had exchanged more photos - jim had sent him one of julia's spread pussy and he'd sent a similar one of his wife. his brother had asked if julia ever shaved and jim had sent a few shaved pussy pics, and his brother had sent him a video of his wife in the shower, shaving her pussy and touching herself for him as he filmed.

[thranduilland]

Head canon that started out with @msgeekstyle as a cracky 'haha, but what if?!' that has slowly started to consume my life. I'll have to write fic for it after I finish my fae Hob series but...

Hob as the spawn of Lucifer. His dad was some human, Hob never found out who. They spent their entire life hiding out in Hell, affectionally referred to as 'the Hope in Hell' because of how much everyone loved them. Then, into their 20s-30s they were like 'mother, I'm off to the human realm, I want to explore' and Lucifer is like '... you're just going to break out if I try to ground you here, aren't you?' and Hob is like 'what can I say, mother? You are the original rebel and I take after you greatly' and Lucifer is like 'God did this to me on purpose! Fine!! You can go! Be careful!!'

Hob hanging about with the humans, getting into some of their battles. Falling in love with their innovation and persistence. Stubbornly ignoring the baby demons Lucifer sent along to keep an eye on him.

1389 comes along, Hob's human friends have dragged him along to a pub. They're all chatting about death, because why the fuck not? and Hob decides to play devil's advocate and declare that he's simply never gonna die. Death is stupid and he has far more interesting shit to get up to.

Dream and Death are intrigued by him, because there is just... something about him. They have their wager and Dream goes to inform Hob, who has no idea who he is talking to but is like 'yeah, I'm game for this! :D ' and agrees to meet back in the pub in a hundred years.

Hob trots off back to Hell like 'Mother, I made a magical friend! We're going to meet in a hundred years to talk about my life' and Lucifer is like '... who is this person?' and Hob is just 'dunno, anyway, gotta run, promised I'd help my human friends with something!!' Lucifer tries to ask Hob's minders who the stranger was, but they're young enough they have never met Dream or Death before so they're like 'idk.'

The 1489 meeting happens as per canon and Hob has a moment where he is actually genuinely afraid he has made a deal with one of his mum's demons, though he's sure they all would know better than to fuck with him like that. So, he's really relieved when Dream clarifies it's nothing like that. Hob trots off back to Hell to tell his mother about his meeting with his stranger. She again is like 'wtf is it ?!' and he's like 'dunno!! Gotta run! :D' and she asks his minders again and they're like 'dunno', cos they still have no fucking clue who Dream is. Lucifer sighs about it and sends Crowley to keep an eye on him, because Crowley is old enough to have met basically every magical being that it could be. Crowley is like 'yeah, alright, I'll do it.'

1589 comes around. Crowley has already figured out that the mystery stranger isn't a danger to Hob, because if he was he'd have already done something to him at either their first meeting or their second. So he spends the time indulgently watching Aziraphale drink people under the table the whole night. They head on back to Hell and Lucifer is like 'so who was it?!' and Crowley is like 'oh, didn't see, I was busy keeping an angel of the Lord from noticing Hope's presence' and Lucifer is like '... fair argument. Fine. Do better next time!' and Crowley is like 'yep, 100% will do that!'

1600s come along, Eleanor and Robyn die and Hob goes into a full on bout of depression. Crowley has to dig him out of the river when they drown him as a witch. He gets quietly handed over to Aziraphale who plies him with tea and food and books to try and perk him up a bit, but it doesn't work, and he wanders off back into the streets of London. 1689 meeting comes along, Crowley is busy searching for him and has completely forgotten that the meeting was supposed to take place, else he woulda gone straight there. Hob doesn't go back to Hell to tell Lucifer about it, so she doesn't get an gossip from that session and when she asks Crowley about it he's just like '... he's having a rough time, can't chat long!'

1700s comes along and Hob has thrown himself into the shipping business, ignoring the demonic influence riddled throughout every single point of it. The influence is familiar to him, he grew up surrounded by it, so it's comfortable for him, familiar. So he stays. Has his 1789 meeting with Dream, where Dream tells him it's wrong and initially he's defensive, because who the hell does Dream think he is?!? but then he folds to it, decides to consider it more in depth later... they have their fight with Lady Constantine (Crowley was busy dismantling the carriage outside while the fight was occurring).

Hob goes back to Hell and tells Lucfer about it. She's livid that he got attacked, but he's just like 'nah, it was great and I ALMOST got a name out of my stranger, I'm sure of it!!' and Lucifer is like to Crowley 'did you see who they were finally?' and Crowley is like 'nah, I was busy destroying the carriage so they couldn't get away' and she's like '... fine, I'll allow it...'

1889 comes around. Crowley has a prior engagement with Aziraphale so some other smuck demon gets sent to watch over Hob. Hob doesn't return to Hell after the meeting cos he's too busy drinking his sorrows, but the minor demon does return after Crowley picks up their shift and they're like to Lucifer 'uhm, still don't know who they are, but they're an asshole and they broke Hope's heart D:' and Lucifer is like 'WHAT?! I am going to destroy them!! Whoever they are!!'

Dream doesn't show for the 1989 meeting, obvs. Crowley reports this to Lucifer who is like 'oh, I really am going to ruin them. Just absolutely smite them!! who do they think they are?!?! Playing with my son's heart like this?!?' Lucifer sends Hob a Hell Hound to try to cheer him up, but he sends it back and asks for a Hell Cat instead, Lucifer is like '... yeah sure, okay'. Hob immediately names his Hell Cat 'Eye in the Dark' and it becomes a ball of black fur, that is a stealthy beast of prey. Lucifer is like 'did you have to name it like that?!' and Hob is like 'what's wrong with that?!?!'

Somewhere around this time, Lucifer gives birth to Adam and the events of Good Omens start to kick into play, so some other poor smuck demons get stuck watching Hob, because Crowley is busy watching over Warlock, who he thinks is the Antichrist. Lucifer sends out a Hell Hound for Adam, who names it Dog. Lucifer hearing about this sends Hob a message like 'I take it back. Eye in the Dark is a respectable name for a Hell Creature, please impart this knowledge to your baby brother, who named their's 'Dog!' Hob thinks that is hilarious.

The Apocalypse that Wasn't happens a few months before Dream escapes. Crowley, following the events of the Not Apocalypse gets a message to Lucifer like 'you still want me to keep an eye on the Hell Spawns or nah?! I'm officially off the clock, otherwise' and Lucifer is like '... you know what?!? Yes, keep an eye on them for me and I'll grant you a pardon' and so Crowley continues to check in on Hob, Warlock, and Adam. Hob has basically adopted Warlock as his own baby brother, and dotes upon both boys... and all their friends.

Dream comes back. Has his duel with Lucifer, neither of them knowing about the other's connection to Hob. Dream still wins with Hope, which Lucifer takes hard because like... that's her son, not that Dream knows that. Dream leaves and continues on his canon path, talks with Death, gets nudged to come find Hob.

They meet at the New Inn as per canon, but they agree to keep meeting. Dream pops in at random times and they start dating. Hob misses a check in with Crowley one day because he's busy in bed with Dream.

Crowley bursts into the apartment like 'Hell Spawn?!?!?! Where are you Hell Spawn?!? You can't do this to me, Hell Spawn! I can't tell your mother that I lost another of her sons on my watch!! Don't do that to me, Hell Spawn!!' and Hob is like 'ugh!! I'm fine, Uncle Crowley, go away!!!' and Crowley is like 'nope. Not until I have seen for myself that you are not dying!! I have a duty of care, Hell Spawn!!' and Hob is like 'I AM A GROWN MAN!!' but he stomps out to the living room anyway like 'See?!?! Not dying. Now fuck off, please!!'

Crowley is like 'alright, I will go, but next time, text me, Hell Spawn. You can't just expect me to- Hell Spawn!!! Get behind me!!!!' because Dream has wandered in from behind Hob and Crowley a) knows who Dream is and b) is aware that Dream is on the DNI list for Hell. Hob is like 'what are you doing?! that's just my boyfriend!!' and Crowley is like 'YOU ARE DATING DREAM OF THE ENDLESS?!?!?!' and Hob is like 'His name is Morpheus!!!!' Dream is like '?!?!?!?' about the entire thing. Crowley is like 'Just wait until your mother hears about this!! Cannot believe-!! She is going to slaughter me!! Then she's going to slaughter him!!! then you're going to be grounded forever!!!' and Hob is like 'what are you on about?!'

Crowley eventually leaves, Dream and Hob awkwardly have to explain things to each other, including that one time like 'oh yeah, I beat your mother in duel by apparently invoking you?!?!'

Bonus scene 1:

Dream staring at Eye in the Dark, before he learns of Hob's true nature like 'Why do you have a Hell Cat?!' and Hob is like 'What?! That's just Eye in the Dark, she is a sweetheart!!! :D' Eye in the Dark meanwhile is hissing at Dream like 'hurt him and you won't see me coming!!!' and Dream is like 'So noted, little sister, I mean him no harm...'

Bonus scene 2:

Jed: Who are they, Uncle Dream?

Hob: Oh, these are my little brothers, Warlock and Adam.

Adam: I'm the Antichrist.

Warlock: Former Antichrist.

Adam: Well...

Jed: ...

Adam: Hey, wanna hear that time I almost destroyed the world?!?!?!

Rose: Oh, wow, yeah, they're definitely family.

Dream: !!

#Dreamling #Hob Gadling #Dream of the Endless #Hob was a spawn of Lucifer all along #Hob was Lucifer's son #Good Omens #Crowley #Aziraphale

[heartofalifer]

can u guys plis send me ur fav Neil Gaiman asks I have something in mind

#good omens #david tennant #michael sheen #crowley #aziraphale #neil gaiman #ineffable husbands

[shinystarfishmoon]

Masterlist 👾

Hi my name is Tara and I am a beginner tarot reader. I opened this blog to practice my tarot skills 🦄

Some basics about me :

Name : you can call me Tara ( meaning star)

Country : India 🇮🇳

Religion : I am Hindu by birth ( also I would not touralrate any hate towards any religion in my blog ! )

Things I like : kdrama, kpop, rains, anything pretty hehe, makeup, music dogs , spirituality , geopoliticis, religion (especially Hinduism because that what I am familiar with and because I am a Hindu but I also like learning about other religions)

I am a full time student so answering ask may take time

Guidelines :

If I do not answer you ask either you were incredibly rude or I didn't vibe with your energy

When sending a ask be a decent and nice person .. Rude people are not welcomed in my blog..

I would not tolerate any kind of hate towards any religion, country, fate

I do not I repeat do not tolerate homophobia

Be patient when you have sent a ask I would do my best to answer them

6 . I don't not answer health related questions and also do not offer sexual readings

I am incredibly loving and nice person feel free to send ask when my ask are open 🐥 .

My paid reading

PAC :

Your next boyfriend or girlfriend

#tarot #guidelines #tarotcommunity #foryou #tarotonline #spirituality