is your learning curve a horizontal line?

Rubie_Fox on AO3

[holdmyduffelbag]

"Another star fell. Then another. As the sky tore open with fire above them, Nesta felt something mirror it inside her. She turned toward him, toward the warm, steady presence of his body at her side, the greenish flush of his hair in the starlight. He was watching her instead of the sky."

My darling beta GleamingCourt created this beautiful rendition of Nesta's and Eris's Starfall outfits from my fic Twin Flames and gave me her blessing to post it here as well ❤️❤️❤️

[paperkoifish]

The band is here!! Lemme know who's your bias 🤩🤩

[melancholygirls]

I passed a flower shop next to a tattoo shop and at first I laughed because I thought it was ironic and then i freaked because IMAGINE YOUR OTP IN A FLORIST/TATTOO ARTIST AU

[stillalittlekid]

OMG I COULD TOTALLY IMAGINE THEM LIKE THAT IT WOULD BE SO PERFECT

[christ-with-a-why]

[themadmorrigan]

@holdmyduffelbag this seemed relevant for you, haha

[holdmyduffelbag]

yes, I could absolutely picture my otp in a flower shop/tattoo studio au lmao

especially with both of them staring at each other across the street when the other isn't looking

[rollercoasterwords]

my tumblr mutuals will take characters from media that is not very good & construct such rich & intricate inner worlds for them in their posts that i will go wow that sounds so compelling let me go check this out….& then the canon character will be like. relatively boring with very little interiority. but that’s okay because sometimes the real character is the one my tumblr mutuals hallucinated along the way….

[unhealthyfanobsession]

*entire SJM fandom reblogs in the wake of … that.*

[m-azing]

imagining your otp doing the forehead touch is literally the most important thing in the whole world. everybody take a second and stop scrolling and imagine your otp doing the forehead touch. okay. you can move on now.

[persianmom-deactivated20260602]

I do not want the ai overview. I want to read six wikipedia pages as god intended.

[mogitz]

In honor of that highly disappointing interview, I'm just going to write 10X harder for ya'll.

[holdmyduffelbag]

the only thing listening to the SJM/call her daddy podcast episode did was reinforce my belief that SJM doesn't actually... care anymore? about the stories she writes? as in, she cares about writing as a tool for coping with her own issues. but not about writing for the sake of creating stories and characters that are not self-inserts.

as expected, I'm disappointed, but not surprised.

[themadmorrigan]

You’ve Got Mail (Neris’ Version): A Modern Epistolary Fic - Chapter 17

Banner above, art and divider below by: @themadmorrigan!

Status: Multi-chapter (in progress) Rating: T (sorry folks, no sexting) Relationships: Nesta Archeron x Eris Vanserra (Neris), background Elain x Lucien (Elucien), Jurian x Vassa (Jassa), Helion x LoA

Read Chapter 17 here!

Start at the beginning!

Summary: Nesta Archeron did the one thing you’re never supposed to do: text the number on the bathroom stall. To her surprise, she and the mysterious stranger on the other end have more in common than she could ever have expected.

Tag list: @limeandorange, @lady-selenee, @lizzytish25, @chaol-apologist, @ysmtttty, @untillthedarknessclaimsus, @crazy-ache, @buffy-vanserra, @wishfulimaginings, @heyluuu, @heirtotheshad0ws, @flawlessrosee-blog, @darseloves, @elllalester, @natalienight13, @acourtofaudacity, @secret-third-thing @frostystarlight, @nocasdatsgay, @pinkfuneral7, @azrielsdaggerpolisher, @misstyfikacja, @chelseamorninggirl, @gooseyjossip, @itsblobross

[alicenchanted]

“who cares what my father does to me?”

[putthekettleonlove]

would you go for a coffee with me be honest

[biancodinera-deactivated2026011]

[wintersoldierfell]

[elleybug]

“Who cares what my father does to me?

“I know what sort of creature my father is. I don’t need your sympathy.”

[prophetic-writer]

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

[bigbigbigtruck]

I make the expressions and gestures in a mirror and walk around the room to get a sense of the body in space. that is why i work at home

[snowwhitewithanxiety]

That one unnamed Vanserra brother who showed up on one page to drop that banger line “well apparently he had it in her” and then disappeared from the narrative:

[holdmyduffelbag]

Twin Flames Chapter 42

"…to lose my mind and find my soul."

Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Rating | E

Status | 42/50 chapters, 292k words

Tags | Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Yearning, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Some Fluff, Eventual Smut, Alternating POV

Read chapter 42 on AO3

Updating biweekly!

Excerpt (Spoilers for chapter 42!)

The forest felt all wrong.

It wasn’t dead—there were no signs of blight, no rotting trees or poisoned soil. But it was quiet in a way that didn’t make sense. No birdsong, no rustle of small animals in the brush. No insects, even. Just the wind threading through the branches like a breath trying not to be heard.

Nesta stood at the edge of their camp and stared into the trees, Ataraxia strapped across her back, her hands curled into fists at her sides.

They were four miles out from Briallyn’s castle, if Azriel’s estimate was right. Far enough not to be seen, close enough that the air itself felt… heavier. Like the trees themselves had learned to hold their breath.

Their makeshift camp had been set in a hollow beneath a canopy of tall, gnarled oaks. The moss growing on them looked like it had once been green and supple, but it was almost as though the color had been leeched out. Everything here was a little too dim. A little too still. Like something had drained it. Like something was watching.

She hadn’t seen the castle yet, but she could feel it. A dark, constant pulse just past the trees to the east. She didn’t know if it was the wards or the pull of the dagger—or something older and worse—but it never left her.

Behind her, the low crunch of boots told her someone else had shifted. Maybe Emerie, pacing again. Maybe Gwyn, checking the perimeter a third time. Azriel’s shadows were long gone, scattered into the trees. None of them spoke much.

They were camped on the edge of the world. Night was falling. And the silence was already deafening.

They didn’t build a fire. Azriel had said no smoke. No scent. No light. So they waited in the dark.

Azriel sat on a lichen-covered stump, idly sharpening Truth-Teller, maybe more to keep his hands busy than anything else. He’d sent the shadows out hours ago, and still, they hadn’t come back. His wings remained folded tight against his back, his posture deceptively loose—but not relaxed. Nothing about him had relaxed since they’d arrived.

Gwyn stood a few feet away, half-hidden by a twisted pine, her eyes fixed on nothing. Emerie’s hand kept drifting to the hilt of her sword, then dropping again. No one asked for updates. No one needed to. They all knew what they were waiting for.

One after another, the shadows returned like a silent breath sucked in through clenched teeth. They coiled around Azriel’s shoulders, whispering as they merged into his skin.

He listened for a long moment. Then straightened.

“It’s worse than we thought,” he said without preamble. “Wards along every approach—layered deep. Physical traps all through the surrounding grounds. Faebane mines and spellwork hidden in the rock.”

He paused. Looked toward Nesta. “And more than a hundred soldiers posted along the outer walls alone.”

Gwyn’s brows drew in faintly. “Did she enthrall them?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “Doesn’t really matter. They’ll attack all the same.”

A quiet fell again, heavier this time.

Finally, Gwyn said, voice low, “Is there a plan B?”

Azriel didn’t turn. His siphons glinted dully in the dying light. “Not unless you want to die in open battle.” A sigh. “I’ll look for another way in. Until then, we stay put.”

[omtai]

The lion lowkey concerns himself a little bit