macklin celebrini has autism
cherry valley forever
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Origami Around
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trying on a metaphor
bliss lane
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Cosmic Funnies
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
oozey mess
Show & Tell
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@shadowazriel
Cassian: Doesn’t count when you use your hands to do most of the work.
Nesta: I bet that isn’t what you’ve been telling yourself at night.
Cassian: Is that what those smutty books teach you? That it’s only at night? It could be anytime—dawn’s first light, or when I’m bathing, or even after a long, hard day of practice.
Nesta: Sounds like you have a lot of time on your hands, Cassian.
Azriel:
Something For What Ails You: Masterlist
Throne of Glass Rowaelin Modern, Human AU
by @shadowazriel (formerly celaena-sardothiien)
Chapter One
Aelin allowed her eyes to slip closed and a smile to grace her face as she thought back to her kill just a few hours earlier. Aelin didn’t always take pleasure in ending a life, but when it was someone as sleazy and vulturous as that man had been, she couldn’t help but feel satisfied.
Chapter Two
The pounding music of the club fell away as a young blonde woman in a curve-hugging red dress sauntered into the club, pausing just inside the door to survey the crowd. She flipped her long, wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she shifted her weight from one foot to another with restless energy.
Chapter Three
“What is it, Havilliard?” Detective Chaol Westfall of the Rifthold Police Department asked as he approached his partner.
“Well, I think we’ve just found our missing beat cop. But we have bigger issues than that,” Dorian stated grimly, nudging the body in front of him with the toe of his boot.
Here’s the blurb and gif for Chapter 3 as a teaser! Coming soon!
Something For What Ails You: Masterlist
Throne of Glass Rowaelin Modern, Human AU
by @shadowazriel (formerly celaena-sardothiien)
Chapter One
Aelin allowed her eyes to slip closed and a smile to grace her face as she thought back to her kill just a few hours earlier. Aelin didn’t always take pleasure in ending a life, but when it was someone as sleazy and vulturous as that man had been, she couldn’t help but feel satisfied.
Chapter Two
The pounding music of the club fell away as a young blonde woman in a curve-hugging red dress sauntered into the club, pausing just inside the door to survey the crowd. She flipped her long, wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she shifted her weight from one foot to another with restless energy.
I’m bringing good news from quarantine: I haven’t completely abandoned Something For What Ails You! Even though it’s been two years since I last wrote for this, completing my final year of college and being stuck at home with zero summer job prospects means that I do plan to revive this fic! I’ve refreshed my outline of the story and am about halfway through Chapter 3. Expect that within the next week!
Re-reading my work and seeing all of the wonderful comments and reactions to this was a great boost of positivity during this time, so I hope that I can bring you all a little entertainment and angst (oops) in return.
Tags below the cut
quakeriders’ new feysand taglist
reblog this post if you want to be tagged in my feysand fics. likes and replies do not count.
Keep reading
i know everyone and their mother is making this joke but
Trc cards for the Wick and Fable box which I’ve been posting on instagram and forgot to cross post here. Better late than never!
Jude: Feel like pure shit, just want my snake husband (snusband) back
My heart is FULL. Jude and Cardan, coloured and detailed ❤️
**** Spoilers ****
The letters from Cardan to Jude.
Instead of delivering the letters… Lady Asha burned them.
Only available in the B&N copies of Queen of Nothing by Holly Black.
Source: This
One minute he made her blush and the next he made her want to commit murder.
jenny slate / two, sleeping at last / an oresteia, euripidies (trans. anne carson) / the chaos of stars, kiersten white
On a Wing and a Prayer
Nesta and Cassian fanart
my last three brain cells
Some amazing book dedications:
PEOPLE WOULD HAVE DIED
10 Things I Hate About You
An Acotar Fanfiction.
Nessian. Feysand. Elriel. Elucien.
Story inspired by the 1999 classic, 10 Things I Hate About You, and a prompt from anon.
Summary: Cassian gets dared to convince the university’s notorious bitch to attend the Greek winter formal with him. Elain is conflicted between her lifelong crush or the boy with the hazel eyes who makes her feel like more than just a pretty face. Feyre finds herself captivated by her school’s new janitor, but little does she knew that he’s not employed there by choice.
Warning: Rated M for mature.
Chapter 1 posted this Saturday. Comment or send an ask to be tagged. :)
Resonate {A Nessian Oneshot}
Prompts: “I’d kill to see you smile, just once.” AND “Cassian playing guitar”.
As Nesta sat in the auditorium in Velaris University’s main cathedral, she took a deep breath, which did nothing to calm her nerves. Letting her fingers rest on the keys, she blew the breath out and pressed down on the ivories.
A dissonant chord rang out and she clutched at her hair, groaning, and cursed herself for these pointless nerves. Her senior showcase was coming up in less than two weeks and she didn’t have time to be nervous. She was attempting to play the most challenging and ambitious piece of her career, a piece that she had written, and had to focus on it.
When had playing become such a chore? When had her escape become a whole new kind of prison?
Leaning forward, she rested her forehead against the music stand holding her sheet music. She let loose a deep sigh, fluttering the papers in place.
It was then that she heard it. A faint, gentle strumming from down one of the halls. It was a soothing melody, one that she felt the urge to play along with. But if she played along, she wouldn’t be able to hear the guitar.
She closed her eyes, letting the song calm her beating heart, grounding her soul, and before she knew it her fingers were flying over the keys, pouring her song out. When she was finished, her chest heaved and her breathing came in short bursts. She listened for the guitar, but whoever had been playing had stopped.
She sat and waited, wanting to hear the song one more time before she packed her bag up, but all that accompanied her was the silence. After a few minutes, she closed her music, slipping it into her bag and decided to head home.
When she pulled into the driveway of the house she rented with her sisters, she was dismayed to see that their lovely neighbors were throwing yet another party. At least it was on a Friday this time.
She was just about to head into the house when she noticed Elain on the front lawn across the street, repeatedly trying to flip a cup and make it land upside down on the table before Azriel, the neighbor she’d never actually had a conversation with. Feyre was a few feet behind her, cheering her on, tucked into the embrace of Rhysand, another one of the guys who lived in the house. An eyebrow quirked up and Nesta was just about head across the street and ask her underage sister what exactly she thought she was doing at a college party (Not that Feyre was drinking. No, that was Elain, who was freshly 21, and clearly taking advantage of that fact).
Just as Nesta’s foot hit the concrete, the last member of the household pulled up in his unnecessarily huge truck. He hopped out of the cab, giving Nesta a quick wave and a wink, and lifted a keg out of the bed.
“I heard we needed a refill!” He called, climbing the steps of the porch and heading inside. The door swung shut behind him and Nesta scoffed, making her way across the street.
Elain had apparently managed to flip her cup at last and the blonde girl, Mor, Nesta recalled, was now flipping with a strange sense of precision. As she approached the table, Feyre’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit,” she mumbled, hiding partially behind Rhys.
Before Nesta could ask what Feyre was doing there, a voice drawled, “Hello, sweetheart,” from behind her. She whirled and was met with a broad chest and a smirking, handsome face. “Nice of you to finally join us.” He held a red solo cup out for her and she just stared at it. “Oh, come on. Let’s have some fun, the year is almost over.”
Nesta did her best to keep from rolling her eyes. “Yeah, and that means it’s time buckle down, not let loose. Especially for those of us that have showcases coming up.”
His eyebrows shot up. “A senior showcase, huh?” A low whistle. “A pretty big deal, you’re right. I’d hate for us to interrupt your practice at …” A glance at his watch. “11:13 at night. Your dedication is admirable, Ms. Archeron.”
“For your information,” she snapped, taking the cup from his still outstretched hand, “ I was at the auditorium until about 15 minutes ago. I get that you’re trying to make a joke out of me, but I take it very seriously.” She took a swig of the cool beer, unexpecting the real surprise that lit his features.
Azriel asked, “Cass, weren’t you just at-?”
“Who’s turn is it or can I jump in?” Cass asked, cutting his friend off and draining his beer in one long drink, stepping up to the flip cup table.
Nesta looked at him with one eyebrow raised, but didn’t leave, staying near her sisters. As the night went on and she had more and more to drink, she loosened up enough that even she was willing to play a round, and found that flipping the cup was much harder than it looked.
After she finally completed it, she made her way over to the stairs and sat down. Checking the time on her phone, she saw that it was nearly two in the morning. Rhysand and Feyre were still over by the flip cup table, but Elain and Azriel had made their way onto the porch swing and were quietly speaking as if no one else but the two of them were present. She sensed the body next to her before she saw him.
“So,” he asked, handing her a bottle of cheap whiskey. “Senior showcase. What do you play?”
She raised the bottle to her lips, grimacing as the liquid burned its way to her stomach. “Piano.”
“How long have you played?” The slight southern drawl he had was more present in his intoxication.
She swirled the amber liquid around and around in the bottle, watching as it glowed in the moonlight. “20 years. As far back as I can remember, I’ve been sitting on the bench. It was my mother’s idea, and even if I…” She trailed off, her speech slurring slightly. “It’s not what I saw myself doing, but I am pretty good at it.”
“So cocky,” he smirked, taking the bottle back and taking a long swig.
Nesta frowned. “It’s not cocky if it’s true. Is it?”
She looked at Cassian and saw his eyes intent on her face. He reached out and his thumb skimmed the outer edge of her lips, lifting it at the corner.
“I’d kill to see you smile, just once.” She looked away from him and his hand fell. “Do you smile when you play?”
That question drew her up short. “I- I don’t know anymore.”
“When do you practice next?” She blinked at him and he only waited.
“Tomorrow, at 2:15. Why?”
He smirked and waved a muscled arm around at the home. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to be interrupting you.” She gave him a playful shove, but got to her feet and took a few steps toward her own home.
“Nesta.”
She turned back to him. “I hope it still makes you smile.”
As the edges of her mouth turned up, she gave a small nod and made her way home, falling into bed and a night of peaceful sleep.
The next day, Nesta panted at the keys again, breathing heavily as the music flowed through her veins. Emotion crested her heart and her eyes remained closed for most of the piece. As she finished the song and sat, hearing the final note ring out in the empty room, she heard it again. The expert fingers strumming along, creating the beautiful melody that she had dreamt of all night long.
Leaving her music on the stand and her bag on the floor, she stood and followed the music from the hall. It was coming from a practice room whose door had been left slightly cracked. Nesta inched forward, able to see the wall through the window on the door.
She wasn’t sure what she planned on doing once she got here. Quietly listening? Stopping the talented musician to pay them a compliment? But when she saw who was in the booth, she stepped up and slowly pushed the door open.
His hair, always loose around his shoulders, was tied back, giving her an unobstructed view of his face. His eyes were screwed shut in concentration as his fingers flew over the strings. She stood in the doorway, listening as his song grew and grew, as she felt the joy and pain he was playing until she swore tears could have been running down her cheeks.
When he stopped, she strode in and sat down at the piano in the corner.
He jumped a little, pulling the earbuds out of his ears.
She lightly cleared her throat and looked at his guitar, cradled in his arms, the signs of loving wear and tear evident. “So,” she said. “Senior showcase is kind of a big deal, huh?”
He smirked and glanced at the sheet music he had scattered around the floor. “Maybe a little bit.”
Nesta just watched him as he lightly strummed and played a quiet melody, similar to the one she’d heard last night. She turned from him and rested her fingers on the keys, lightly tapping out a variation of her own song, that wove into his. His eyebrows rose and a smile broke across his face as he continued to play, weaving his strings in and out of her keys.
They played together, their songs melting to become one, listening to each other, working with each other. He only spoke when the room had been quiet for a few seconds, the smiles still gracing both of their faces. “I’d say you have your answer.”
She laughed, a bit confused, and shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He reached out, pick still between his fingers and skimmed the up-tilted corner of her mouth with his thumb.
The smile on her face grew as she realized he was right. She had smiled while she played, while she played with him. “I guess you’re right,” she whispered, and stood, heading for the door, back to her piano.
“Nesta?” She glanced back and his hazel eyes were shining as he said, “I’m glad it still makes you smile.”
