actually a fun part of having been in hp fandom while the books were still coming out was seeing all the fanfic that got updated with âWELL I GUESS THIS IS AN AU NOWâ when a new book came out and destroyed all their expertly-crafted headcanons and theories
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I know you and Feynites have said that people go to the Pleasure District for things other than sex. I was wondering if Melarue had any customers like that?
Senhlen comes to them for quiet.Â
Not the cavernous silence of an empty room, where she spends her days as a lorekeeper for Lord Dirthamen, but the gentle, comforting silence of companionship. She lays her head in Melarueâs lap and closes her eyes, and sighs softly as Melarue cards gentle fingers through her hair.Â
Melarue dims the lights, and muffles the magic in the room meant to stimulate, so that there is nothing to keep Senhlen from drifting peacefully to sleep.Â
Sometimes Senhlen does, and other days she simply curls into Melarue, touch-starved and weary, and Melarue does what they can to put her at peace, away from the secrets and the need to know and look and remember.Â
The two never speak, not so much as a whispered greeting.
Melarue leaves the window open, so the two can feel the soft, cool breeze of a fine spring day, and smell the magnolia blossoms drifting in the courtyard.Â
A simple thing, this silence, and a simple pleasure that Melarue appreciates.
â
Sorry itâs so short! There are others who also come to Melarue for other things aside from sex even though that is what they are most sought out for. One of Juneâs smiths comes to them for deep body massages, and one of Ghilanânainâs higher ups comes to listen to them play the harp and to talk. Melarue doesnât have many clients, as they are very busy with their job as the manager of the Pleasure District. Only those of equal rank or higher can come to them for a session, so very high-ranking servants of the Evanuris or the Evanuris themselves.Â
âI am sorry. I did not mean to worry you,â she says.
He lets out a broken huff, just short of hysterical.
âThey all said you would die,â he tells her. âThe best healers are tending Mythal, and I could get none of them to see to you. The ones who came all said you would die. I was going to⌠I do not even know. Do something foolish, I suppose. I could not even find your mind in the Fade, until the end.â
â
Procreate has been updated and now i have to adjust all brushes againâŚ
Once I lamented on Twitter about never getting to finish a really good Sherlock fic, and the author recognized it and apologized, and I felt terrible.
(And I SOMEHOW RESISTED begging her to finish.)
See, hereâs how I feel: One of the best things about fanfiction is that I get the chance to read stories that are never going to be âpublishedâ in traditional ways. I get to read the writing of people who are doing this as a hobby rather than a profession or even a part-time gig. And as a result, I get to be showered with so many beautiful stories that I would never, ever have found through any other medium. I get to read the work of writers who would have been lost to me if the only way I had of reading was through purchasing publications. Thereâs just so much more out there than publication systems have ever harnessed.
And, to me, unfinished stories are kind of the ultimate expression of that story that I wasnât supposed to be able to read, but lucked out and got a chance to read anyway. Unfinished stories almost never get published. Before the age of the internet and fanfiction, most would never have been read except by their authors and maybe a close friend or two. But, thanks to the internet and the ability of authors to write as they go, for fun, with no obligations attached, I have gotten to read these unfinished, beautiful things. And sure, if I love a story I naturally wish that it would be finished. But if the choice is between never reading that story at all, or getting to read it as far as it goes, Iâll take the latter every time.
I have been changed by unfinished stories. Iâve been amused and moved and fascinated and transported by them. Some of my all-time favorite fics are unfinished. But Iâm still so happy that they live in a corner of my head.
So if you have written an unfinished fic, thank you. Iâm so glad you shared it.
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Read Defending Pornography: Free Speech, Sex, and the Fight for Womenâs Rights by Nadine Strossen
Excerpts:
âIn the late 80s and early 90s there was a vocal group of radical feminists who believed that pornography inherently harms women, not just in its production but also in its consumption⌠These anti-pornography feminists teamed up with the religious right and managed to get anti-porn laws passed. In particular, a law was passed in Canada preventing the importation of âobsceneâ materialâ..
âŚ. Guess what was seized first? âThe Joy of Gay Sexâ and the like. Guess what businesses started finding all their shipments seized or delayed â sexually explicit or not â to the point where they were being put out of business? Gay bookstores.  Guess what wasnât seized at all? Mainstream porn made for straight menâŚ..
Hereâs the key point: Strossen is a legal scholar whoâs looked at a lot of attempts at censorship, and you know what she found happened every time? When you try to censor pornography, even in the interests of protecting vulnerable people, that censorship will be applied first, and hardest, against the people who are most vulnerable. They wonât come for actual abusers, theyâll come for the abused, and prevent them from accessing resources, education, talking to each other, creating art to express themselves, or organising against those who are actually causing harm.Â
This is old, old business, weâve seen it more than once before, and it never goes the way the antis think it will. Censorship is a tool that gives power to abusers and lets them inflict more harm on those who are abused, vulnerable and discriminated against. Donât fall for it.
Water is wet, the research is done to confirm that water is wet, and some jerks out there are still going around saying that this time itâs different, our new authoritarianism is OK, donât mind the screaming disenfranchised LGBTQ+ people!
Letâs circulate this post far and wide. People should know the consequences of what theyâre doing.
reasonable people: hey, we should probably do something about all the rampant child pornography and the way children and teens in fandom communities are being groomed to consider the romanticization of these sorts of relationships healthy and normal
fucking weirdos who need to go outside: STOP EMPOWERING ABUSERS! STOP BEING HOMOPHOBIC!
reasonable people: weâre⌠literally trying to stop abuse while youâre defending abusers and trying to insulate them from any consequences within the community? and a lot of us are gay?
fucking weirdos who need to go outside:Â :5,000-word crytyped essay on how this is Kink Oppression:
When you try to censor pornography, even in the interests of protecting vulnerable people, that censorship will be applied first, and hardest, against the people who are most vulnerable. They wonât come for actual abusers, theyâll come for the abused.
The whole POINT of this essay is to illustrate the problem where peopleâs good intentions (i.e. âletâs stop the spread of child pornographyâ) get twisted, in actual practice, by those who turn around and immediately target LGBT+ communities with censorship measures instead.
You know. The same way that legislation regarding sex work somehow conveniently never takes the actual opinions of sex workers into account while ~protecting~ them by throwing âem in jail.
This isnât about kink.
Censorship is very easy to abuse, and always comes at the cost of letting someone else make assessments on your behalf, or on behalf of others. Thatâs why it has to be used sparingly, and often does not logically follow even the most intense forms of criticism or disdain. We know censorship is preferable to some stuff (generally speaking stuff thatâs already illegal, like child porn and hate speech), but itâs a very specific and risky tool to invoke. Proponents of censorship often operate under the assumption that their own values would be the guideline for its deployment. That it will be used âreasonablyâ and with âcommon senseâ. But a lot of times you cannot ever guarantee that the person doing the censorship is on the same moral/ethical page as you, and since one needs control of a situation in order to censor it, the process almost invariably favours people in power, rather than the disenfranchised.
People in power are usually the ones already perpetuating abuses, and already capable of skirting around any new ârulesâ they make anyway.
Even if you really loathe and despise something, censorship is a very particular type of action to take against it, which may or may not even be effective against a particular problem. For example, illegal content is already skirting efforts to curtail it; and will continue to do so, as the porn bots using the âsfwâ tag to defeat tumblrâs algorithms ably demonstrate. Censorship requires you to trust the judgement of the person who is in charge of the censoring, in order to actually do you any good. It empowers another person or organization to filter the information you come into contact with on your behalf.
Itâs like asking a stranger to blindfold you and lead you through a forest.
Maybe every once in a blue moon thatâs the best solution to a dilemma, but for the most part, itâs probably not something you want to encourage. Even if the forest is full of shit you understandably donât want to see, maybe listen when people tell you that the mysterious guides have a notorious habit of leading people off of random cliffs, too.
Read Defending Pornography: Free Speech, Sex, and the Fight for Womenâs Rights by Nadine Strossen
Excerpts:
âIn the late 80s and early 90s there was a vocal group of radical feminists who believed that pornography inherently harms women, not just in its production but also in its consumption⌠These anti-pornography feminists teamed up with the religious right and managed to get anti-porn laws passed. In particular, a law was passed in Canada preventing the importation of âobsceneâ materialâ..
âŚ. Guess what was seized first? âThe Joy of Gay Sexâ and the like. Guess what businesses started finding all their shipments seized or delayed â sexually explicit or not â to the point where they were being put out of business? Gay bookstores.  Guess what wasnât seized at all? Mainstream porn made for straight menâŚ..
Hereâs the key point: Strossen is a legal scholar whoâs looked at a lot of attempts at censorship, and you know what she found happened every time? When you try to censor pornography, even in the interests of protecting vulnerable people, that censorship will be applied first, and hardest, against the people who are most vulnerable. They wonât come for actual abusers, theyâll come for the abused, and prevent them from accessing resources, education, talking to each other, creating art to express themselves, or organising against those who are actually causing harm.Â
This is old, old business, weâve seen it more than once before, and it never goes the way the antis think it will. Censorship is a tool that gives power to abusers and lets them inflict more harm on those who are abused, vulnerable and discriminated against. Donât fall for it.
Water is wet, the research is done to confirm that water is wet, and some jerks out there are still going around saying that this time itâs different, our new authoritarianism is OK, donât mind the screaming disenfranchised LGBTQ+ people!
Letâs circulate this post far and wide. People should know the consequences of what theyâre doing.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Is now a bad time to mention I actually donât hate this site? I hate the owners. Hate the staff. Hate the incompetence of whoever is in charge here.
But I love the site, love the format, love my mutuals, my followers and all of the amazing content creators here. I donât know what Iâll replace this with if anything.
Prompt if you want one: Every time Selene goes with Elrogathe into Arlathan, widowed Elgar'nan offers increasingly valuable things for Selene to marry his son, Dirthamen. Selene has never actually met Dirthamen, but if he's anything like Elgar'nan or his other son, she thinks she'd rather drink paint. But when Elrogathe arranges her marriage to Haleir instead, Selene's only legal recourse is to beat him to the pass by accepting one of Elgar'nan's offers first.
A Last Resort
Dirthamen and the Evanuris family are @feynites
Itâs a last resort. The last echo oflight for a dead woman walking.
Or riding, technically. Since sheâstaking the train and all.
Hopefully this wonât turn out to be atremendous waste of time.
Selene lets out a slow breath, the longstems of the carefully arranged bouquet bending with the tighteningof her hands.
Itâs beenâŚfive years since she waslast in Arlathan?
Ten, since she was at the EvanurisEstate in person.
And sheâs actually never met the personsheâs planning to drop in on.
 Selene Lavellan in full, he believes. Though he has never met the owner of this name, so it takes him a moment to make the connection. His father spent much of his childhood attempting to betroth him to the daughter of one of his old friends, however. Only redoubling his efforts after the girl in question successfully beat the tar out of FalonâDin.
 His brother had not been amused.
 Dirthamen is not aware that any betrothal contract had actually been formalized, but his father tends to be negligent with his paperwork, so this is not too unusual. He reflexively takes hold of the bouquet that has been shoved into his chest. The flowers look somewhat wilted, but artfully arranged.
 Selene stands at the threshold, awaiting his response.
 âMy apologies,â he says. âI was not aware that the arrangement was due at this time. The paperwork must have been misplaced.â
 There is a moment of silence. Selene hesitates.
 Oh. Manners, of course.
 Dirthamen moves aside and gestures towards the interior of the Evanuris manor.
 âPlease come in,â he invites.
 With a deep inhale, and then a gusty exhalation, Selene squares her shoulders and crosses the threshold.
 She is an aesthetically interesting elf, Dirthamen decides, taking a moment to observe her. The light in the front foyer is very good. Her white hair is tied back in a casual ponytail, and she is tall; nearly as tall as he is. She is not wearing heels, either. Just a set of traditional Dalish footwraps, along with a leather jacket that looks as though it has seen better days, and a set of faded work pants with patches across the knees. She is long-legged and sharp-featured, and has a bandage on one of her thumbs.
 There are dark circles beneath her eyes.
 Dirthamen is not certain, but he believes it is a fairly long trip between the city and Elrogatheâs residence in the Lavellan Reserve.
 âI can take your coat,â he offers.
 Selene fidgets with the bandage on her thumb.
 âI, uh, I realize Iâm probably not⌠expectedâŚâ she says.
 âA call ahead would have been customary, but the guest rooms are always sufficiently stocked,â Dirthamen assures her. She looks at him intently for a moment, before averting her gaze. He wonders if he is being awkward. Would it be appropriate to invite her to his office to discuss the pertinent details of their betrothal? Or, no, he recollects some of his sisterâs lectures on etiquette.
 âI believe it is customary to offer rest and refreshment after a long trip,â he says. âLet me show you to a room, and have the kitchen prepare you something. Our on-staff cook is here today.â
 Selene stares at him for a moment, shaking her head before transforming the gesture into a nod. He takes it as acquiescence, and, abandoning the matter of her coat, leads her upstairs instead.
 He is not certain if it is fortunate or not that he is the only person home at present. His brother is in jail again, Andruil is at her hunting lodge, and Sylaise is currently traveling on charity work with her fiance. His father is still laid up at the hospital, recovering from his most recent surgery. He informs Selene of these facts as he escorts her to the nearest available guest room. She is quiet, until he gets to the topic of his father.
 âElgarânanâs been sick?â she asks.
 âYes,â Dirthamen confirms. âHe does not like it widely known, so I cannot say more than that.â
 â...Oh. Uh. Iâm sorry, in that case,â Selene offers, stiltedly.
 Dirthamen tilts his head in acceptance of the sentiment.
 âWill this room suffice?â
 Selene looks at it, and if he were to venture a guess as to her manner, he would venture to say she is âuncertainâ. After a few minutes, however, she simply nods and murmurs some thanks. Dithering for a moment, as if she might say something more, before she seems to hesitate and stop herself instead. Her gaze lands on the flowers, and then on his face.
 Dirthamen supposes his lack of reciprocal gesture is awkward.
 âSince you were not expected, I do not have a bouquet prepared,â he says. âI will remedy the situation. Please feel free to recuperate from your trip while I attend to some matters. The in-house phone line can connect you to the kitchen. Iâll inform them to expect to deliver service to your room, so whenever you like, simply call down and request something. The kitchen is line â2â.â
 â...Uh,â Selene says.
 Dirthamen waits for further response.
 â...Thanks,â she finally murmurs, and steps uncertainly into the guest room. It is one of the more spacious ones, typically used by June during his visits. Dirthamen inclines his head, and then carefully shuts the doors behind her, before he turns and heads down the corridor, and up another flight of stairs. To his at-home office. Most of his fatherâs paperwork is also there, relocated after his first collapse.
 As promised, Dirthamen informs the kitchens that there is a guest. It is fortunate that the staff is working today, they only really come in twice a week to prepare meals when the manor is so sparsely occupied. Dirthamen primarily subsides on reheated offerings, which suits him, but now there is a guest to consider. He informs the housekeeper, who is better suited to handling such matters as well, and then sets about locating and sorting through some of Elgarânanâs old files.
 It takes him the better part of an hour to locate the betrothal contracts, and then to sort through them to find the pertinent offers to Elrogathe Lavellan. His father attempted many contracts, for each of his children; and received more than a few offers, in turn. Mostly for FalonâDin and Andruil. Dirthamen sifts through until he finds all of the records with his own name on them.
 The latest seems to have been made on his thirteenth birthday. Unfortunately, he cannot find Elrogatheâs reply - in point of fact he cannot find any of Elrogatheâs replies. Knowing his father, he likely stored them in another office or possibly a desk that he lit of fire in a fit of pique at some point. There are many record gaps thanks to his uncomplimentary habits towards physical paperwork and spontaneous combustion.
 However, since there are no further offers, Dirthamenâs most reasonable assumption is that this is the one which was accepted. He will have to verify with Selene, and firm up the contract and agreements for the lawyers, as well as assess any contracts she brought with her. To begin with, Dirthamen decides to compose a draft based on the most up-to-date offer, for re-signing. He keeps the original with his fatherâs signature as well, of course - a copy would have been sent to Elrogathe.
 The dowry is generous, but reasonable for this sort of thing. His family owns a considerable parcel of farmland right next to the Lavellan Reserve, that would be bequeathed to Selene, along with one hundred thousand dollars in cash payment to Elrogathe, and two hundred thousand that would be set aside into a private fund for Selene, contingent upon the marriage lasting a minimum of four years. There is also a childbirth contract, though after a moment, Dirthamen opts not to include it in his redraft. His father habitually incorporates those into marriage contracts, but they are considered archaic and also technically illegal now.
 He makes several calls to his lawyers, who seem strangely perturbed by the matter, and by the time he has finished the redraft to his satisfaction, another hour has passed. A call down to the kitchens reveals that Selene has yet to request food. Dirthamen supposes she is still resting.
 He decides to attend to a few other work matters, before checking in after another hour has passed.
 By the time it is four in the afternoon, however, Selene still has not contacted the kitchens. Dirthamen wonders if there is something wrong with his conduct, so he gathers up the contracts, and makes his way to the guest room.
 Dirthamen knocks on the door.
 There is a long pause. But Selene does answer, after a moment. She looks at him, and smiles.
 âHi,â she says. âHi, hello, uh, Dirthamen. You know, itâs occurred to me that this was probably, definitely a bad idea⌠and, umâŚâ
 Dirthamen presents her with the re-drafted contract.
 â...Whatâs this?â she asks.
 âMy apologies,â he says. âI could not locate your fatherâs reply to the most recent offer which my own made, in terms of betrothal contracts, so I drafted a proposal based on that offer. Itâs only a preliminary step, however, and if you have paperwork which contradicts these terms, I will be pleased to renegotiate.â
 Selene blinks at him.
 Dirthamen waits, holding the contract. After a moment, Selene looks down at the paper. One of her hands comes up, as if by habit, and takes hold of it. She withdraws back into the guest room. Given that she makes no move to shut the door between them, Dirthamen takes it as an invitation, and heads inside as well.
 Selene has left a bag slumped next to one of the sitting room chairs, and opened the doors to the bedroom. The guest suite has its own bathroom as well, of course, and tall windows that overlook the back garden of the estate. Selene tightens her ponytail and worries her teeth over her bottom lip as she reads the contract.
 Her eyes seem to grow larger as she goes.
 After a moment, she stops, and settles a finger over one portion of it.
 âWhat does this mean?â she asks him. âThis âfour yearâ thing, with the two grand?â
 âIt means that a fund of two-hundred thousand dollars will be set aside for you, but will not be accessible until we have been married for four years,â Dirthamen says.
 âWhat⌠why?â Selene asks him.
 He considers.
 âI am not well-versed in the particulars of these contracts,â he admits. âBut likely it is an offer of insurance, that so long as the marriage is viable, you will have independent funds? And the possibility of divorcing in confidence after a sufficient âtrial periodâ has passed.â
 âTrial period?â she murmurs. âFour years is a trial period?â
 âOur ancestors likely felt so,â Dirthamen opines. âAnd our parents are traditionalists, I believe.â
 Frowning, Selene looks back down at the contract.
 Then she looks at him.
 Then at the contract again.
 Then at him again.
 âIâm sorry, but⌠do you want to marry me?â she asks him. âWe kind of just met. Didnât we?â
 âI believe so,â he confirms. âDo you have any paperwork that would contradict these terms?â
 Selene glances at her bag, and then skims over the contract in her hands.
 âNope,â she says, popping the âPâ. âThese terms are definitely better. Sufficient. I mean, theyâre good, no contradictions here.â Once again, her gaze alights onto him. It lingers on his face, and then tracks down his chest. Dirthamen gives her a similar inspection. He had never really considered marriage before. There hadnât seemed to be much point. Either his father would successfully arrange something for him, or it would likely never happen. The odds of Dirthamen wooing a partner for himself were always very low, despite Sylaiseâs insistence that he would do âjust fineâ if he âput himself out thereâ.
 He has never been good at âputting himself out thereâ.
 However, he does not think there is anything objectionable about Selene.
 After a moment, she puts the contract onto the sitting room table, and settles a hand on top of it. Then she lets out a deep breath.
 âOkay, cards on the table,â she says. âI want this contract to go through because if it doesnât, Iâm probably going to end up marrying someone else. Who I do not want to marry. I know we havenât met, but, Iâm going to go out on a limb here and hope youâre a better option than him.â
 Dirthamen blinks.
 âIs he very terrible?â he wonders.
 Selene chuckles, but he does not think she is amused.
 âYeah,â she confirms. âHeâs very terrible. So I know why Iâm here. But why are you down for this?â
 âWhat do you mean?â he asks.
 Selene gestures towards himself and the room around them.
 âYouâre a rich, beautiful man who doesnât seem to be actively possessed,â she says. He suppresses a flinch on that last point. âWhy would you want to marry a stranger who just showed up on your doorstep?â
 Dirthamen considers his answer carefully.
 â...I am not socially adept,â he explains.
 A long moment of silence follows his confession.
 Selene narrows her eyes.
 âAre you a serial killer or rapist?â she asks him.
 âNo,â he says. That does not strike him as an unreasonable question. He wishes more people would ask his brother that, before going to motels with him. Though possibly, FalonâDin would not answer honestly.
 Selene stares at him a moment longer.
 Then she reaches into her coat pocket, and produces a black ballpoint pen.
the first batch of my oc eye study is complete! I really enjoyed doing this (can you guess who is who?) and I think Iâll do at least one more set soon.Â
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Holiday fluff for Kasserole? Maybe gift shopping for Wintersend (or whatever gift giving winter holiday Thedas has?)
Kass hates shopping for Melarue.
Okay, okay she doesnât hate it. But itâs certainly difficult to get something for someone who seems to have everything. And she quite literally means everything. Not to mention Melarue is an incredible gift giver. How they do it, she doesnât know, but whatever it is, it probably involves using a lot of money.
She stares at a leather messenger bag and tries to think if itâs something theyâd like. Itâs a medium brown, soft, with some vintage looking buckles on the front. Itâs definitely nice, but she thinks they have something very similar. Of course the one they have is better because they picked it out themselves and know exactly what they want. She shakes her head and makes her way to a jewelry store next.
You canât go wrong with diamonds right?
Except you can definitely go wrong with the diamond price tag. Ouch. She may have a joint bank account with Melarue, they may be married, but spending this much still feels terrifying in a way. Itâs a bit scary to think she could blow a few thousand on diamond earrings and still be absolutely okay financially.
Kass then wanders into a designer store she know they like.
âMay I help you?â An associate immediately comes up to her and she nods.
âYes, I am looking for a gift for my spouse. Theyâre the person who has everything, yâknow? Theyâre very elegant and beautiful, and I want somethingâŚthem.â
âOh yes, we just got in a new shipment of scarves. Right off the runway.â He takes her to a rack with absolutely stunning scarves. There is an emerald one with small gold motifs around the ends that resemble scales.
âThis is perfect,â she says, imagining them wearing the scarf with one of their coats. They look good in just about everything (especially in nothing) so she knows they will look wonderful in this.
âIt is a stunning scarfâŚâ the sales associate goes on to talk as Kass catches sight of the price tag.
âEight hundred?!â She exclaims, interrupting him.
âEr, yes, of course,â he says as if itâs a reasonable and expected price for a scarf.
âItâs a scarf,â she argues, in shock. Once upon a time, this single scarf would be rent and the power bill. Eight hundred. She glances at the scarf again and sighs. Theyâre worth it, and she can afford it, she knows.
âOkay,â she says, picking it up. The associate is thrilled as he rings her up. She isnât having his âand for an extra forty we can wrap it for you!â bullshit though. Sheâs a big girl, she can wrap the damn scarf herself.
One present down! A few more to go.
She is walking along the market street, heading to her car, when she sees a small stationary store. In the window is a scrapbook, but the pictures in the book are painted, not just photos. Curious, Kass heads in.
There is a cheerful dwarven woman bustling around who greets Kass happily.
âThe display with the scrap book, did you paint those?â She asks and the woman nods.
âYes! Itâs a little side thing I do. People give me their pictures and I paint them like those older portraits and put them into a scrapbook.â
âYes,â Kass says immediately, âthat is absolutely perfect.â The woman beams and they start going through the process of selecting the features of the book. They settle on mint-green binding, with six front and back total pages. She wants it to tell their story of falling in love with the pictures she has - all saved on her phone for easy emailing of course. The first half of the book focuses on Kass and Mel, while the last few pages focus on their kids. Ash on a tire swing, Aanda coming home from the hospital, and Aelynthi not just holding his baby sisters, but smiling too.
The total doesnât even phase Kass this time as she hands over the card. She canât put a price on these, not for Melarue.
#ITS TRUE AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT #(ALSO THORIN AND KILI BEING âUGLYâ BY DWARF STANDARDS IS AMUSING CONTENT)
further take: Kili is straight-up ugly by dwarf standards. Thorin is like, the dwarf equivalent of Benedict Cumberbatch. Some dwarves think heâs an absolutely dreamboat, others think he is super weird looking, thereâs very little middle ground.