#replies to an admiring bog

[qserasera]

thanks to your manga chapter lists i have now caught up (i think) on the horrible exorcist arcs and OH MY GOD. a of all, i did know from fandom osmosis that matoba is a cat person but i did not expect him to start NAMING THEM OFF LIKE A FANTASY FOOTBALL ROSTER and asking one of them to come home with him???? 🥺😻 and secondly i loved when sensei goes "oooh look, natori's pro-matoba~~" and natori is like "that's disgusting and wrong. i've never - it's none of your - you have the nerve, the audacity - matoba is my rival, technically. and he is terrible, face-wise." (i'm reading into it a little. BUT NOT THAT MUCH??) and okay i should have been writing down my thoughts because they're all jumbled up now but i remember just loving how casually matoba was like "yeah one time when i was here with natori..." WHICH IMPLIES that they were basically hanging out all the time as teens?? in contrast to natori's backstory chapter which makes it sound like after the three-horned ayakashi thing natori would just go to meetings and hear people talk about matoba but not actually see him. even the only other time we see them together in that chapter is when natori is asleep, so again it's sort of matoba who provides us with all information about their relationship outside of when they first met. WAIT NO natori waking up at his house somehow with only matoba there like DID HE CARRY HIM???? i'm losing it. i can't believe y'all have been dealing with this for years at this point. how do you do it? like can you refer me to a therapist. i am losing my hinges as we speak.

@howdydowdy u should know im sitting here cackling over a cup of tea and rubbing my hands together like those shady villains in a plush armchair but!!

YES

secondly i loved when sensei goes "oooh look, natori's pro-matoba~~"

heheheheheheheheh :3

WAIT NO natori waking up at his house somehow with only matoba there like DID HE CARRY HIM????

princess-carried, according to our (delusional) popular fanon but. yea. u get it. you See it now!!!

im going to write a much longer detailed response to this when im not being buried in friday emails (doing my little matoba-esque chores) BUT I LOVE THAT U SENT THIS ASK TO ME, THANK U SO MUCH.....it means more to me than u knowww and also and okay i should have been writing down my thoughts because they're all jumbled up now

PLEASE DO. WRITE ONE FOR LIKE. the special chapter 17 and also the locked-room-house-loquats one i wanna understand allll your reactions and your favorite panels!!! of all!! time!!!!!! > :3c

#replies to an admiring bog #howdydowdy #we got...we got another one....im SO GLAD...my heart is warm!!! #also the moments u listed out are all S-Tier moments no question #horrible exorcists #natsume yuujinchou spoilers #kind of #long post

[002yb]

Blanket apology on the lateness to all of these replies.  ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Head bonks when they’re brushing their teeth over one sink

A persisting argument of Dick wanting to save any stray bugs that make their way into their apartment while Jason wants to eradicate them (because Dick thinks they’re neat, but Jason associates them to an unkept home)

They don’t own a mop, so they make a conga line where Jason shuffles through with a wet towel and Dick shuffles through with a dry towel behind him

Dick coming home with groceries, only for the both of them to go back out again because he forgot the top thing on the list; it happens consistently and Jason has an inkling Dick does it on purpose (he does)

Whipping each other with towels and vaulting over furniture to escape impending doom

Tucked away in this ask, only I’m not sure what else to add hahaha.

Just Jason consciously falling in love with Dick over a series of mundane moments

So he associates all these little things with Dick in that way young lovers do

A certain route they patrolled, the flickering of a neon sign, the wind pulling through their hair as they sat up high on a skyscraper.  The pounding of his heartbeat as they chased each other, the sweltering heat of a humid day or the smell of a coffee – warm where Dick pressed it to Jason’s cheek and warm throughout his body when Jason sipped at it and let it chase away all the fatigue.  Dawn on the horizon with Dick at Jason’s window - lingering just a moment longer.

Jason being very aware of how smitten he is and doing nothing about it.  Just basking in the present moments as they come and being content in their afterglow.

This is perfection.  No notes.  Superb.

Uaaaaaahhhhhhhh an art like this must exist, right?  It’s too good not to!!  Damian being ornery with Dick in this sort of capacity (with them both fawning over Jason) is probably my most favorite dc fanon thing hahaha.  Thank you for the visual of this, anon!

Hahaha, how Dick keeps his degeneracy under wraps is beyond Jason, truly.  Truth be told though, it stops being discreet because Jason’s reactions to all of Dick’s dirty talk is so obvious.  That’s okay though because Dick doesn’t mind.  Even if he goes down, Jason goes with him; they’re partners in life and in their perverse ways.  An accusation Jason adamantly refuses because they are not the same; no way!

To which Dick will roll his eyes but it’s whatever.  Denial is the first step to acceptance.  That besides, it’s not like Jason isn’t the one pulling Dick aside or beckoning him someplace private after Dick drops those suggestions. ;)

Hahaha, the perpetually single ones for sure.  But I think those who are in committed relationships would be overwhelmingly fond and nostalgic.  Seeing dickjay’s young love, so new and sweet and exciting, would remind them of back when they were first falling in love.  And it’d maybe spark some rekindled romance in their own relationships as they reminisce.

Meanwhile dickjay admiring those who have been in relationships longer because they’re comfortable and settled and really?  They can’t wait to be there, but for now Dick and Jason just enjoy each other day by day. //u///

There’s a story sitting in my drafts that covers this.  It’s been done for months but tbh having to tag on ao3 is such a daunting thing.  I’ll try to get this posted for you soon, anon.

This exchange is the closest to eldritch!Dick as I can imagine.

Will-o-Wisp!Dick lives in my head rent free and it’s the closest I think I can get to something eldritch (because I’m dumb I don’t actually get what it’s supposed to be LOL).  Or something akin to a will-o-wisp.  With Dick being able to twist his voice and image to lure people into the bog that is Gotham’s bowels.  He usually makes himself known as a robin chirping in the night; a warning song.

Other times he’ll appear as a child, dashing through shadows with laughter echoing through alleys.  A beautiful boy that lures criminals away from the main streets and any lingering lights, or guides innocents someplace safer.

And then there’s Dick Grayson, grown and bewitching with the mirthful light in his eyes and a wicked smile; bared teeth and a jaw that might be too sharp.

Dick becoming an urban legend in his own right.  Where he’s ‘passive,’ only not really.  He guides people through Gotham and depending on the situation, Dick will bring them home.  Or he’ll walk them off a building’s ledge, into oncoming traffic, or for those most wicked – infront of the muzzle of Red Hood’s gun.

This post.

Ahahahaha, thank you so much!  Jason getting all flustered after being exposed (by himself, no less) is so charming.  For as much as I love maiden!Jason, he’s probably a bit of a freak ngl.  Like Jason probably kink shames himself after bringing up something he’d like to try with Dick and Dick sputters because the depravity is !!!

Just Jason basing the validity of some of his kinks on Dick’s reaction to them because Dick is the most depraved man he knows.

Of course even when Jason catches Dick off guard (surprisingly often), Dick gets on board real quick.

But yeah, without fail I think it’s always Jason that exposes his own kinks.  And he’s not casual about it at all once he realizes and that exposes himself further and it’s the most vicious of cycles, hahaha.

In reply to this ask.

Tbh, no change LOL.  Dick’s domesticity kink and how he reacts to Jason being domestic transcends time and circumstance.  So, basically:  Simp King!Dick Grayson.  Who is genuinely turned on by stupid, mundane domestic things but who also plays up his reactions because it makes Jason laugh and fluster and Dick loves to see that.

The visual of Dick being taken out at the knees or falling into the wall for support or just keeling over a bit while biting his sleeve because Jason is cooking/cleaning/doing laundry is just so silly hahaha.  Or even Dick just being all sparkly and flowery because yeah, check out his boyfriend (only don’t, thanks) being so sweet and caring and wonderful.  //U////

But also the heated moments because of course.  Where Dick:

Hooks his chin over Jason’s shoulder as Jason cooks something over the stove.  Hands on Jason’s hips and peppering kisses just below Jason’s ear (and in abo setting getting a little high off of Jason’s scent because nothing is more tantalizing than that).  And Jason tries to turn around so that they can fool around a bit, but Dick is all, ‘nope, keep cooking //W////’ and proceeds to just shower Jason in some heavy petting

Oh.  Basically the above, but Jason is washing dishes.  And Dick manages to make Jason come with only the graze of Dick’s teeth at his nape and some dirty promises

Dick pushing Jason back onto a pile of unfolded laundry and having his way with him right there.  ANd Jason loves it in the moment, caught between still hot clothes and Dick burning above him.  Up until they get off and Jason realizes he has to redo laundry.  Again.

It’s cool though.  Dick joins him and they fuck again with Jason bent over the wash, detergent spilling everwhere.

Omg they’re fooling around as the washer is going only to have it flood with suds because they accidentally spilled in too much detergent ahhhahaha

Honestly torn between Damian wholeheartedly believing possessiveness = protectiveness, or whether he's aware of the difference but was impacted by losing Jason (when Jason left the League) and that loss fucked him up in a way that makes him believe that to keep someone close, you've got to own them. 🤔

Either way, Damian rates Dick low because there's always room for improvement.  There's potential, surely, but generally Dick is too nice.

As for something that constitutes Dick being bumped up to a 10?  Ahahaha, Vampire King!Dick turning Jason and making him his vampire queen and doing so in a way where Jason can only feed on Dick to survive.  And when Jason tries a hunger strike, Dick retaliates by starving Damian somehow.  It's an inconceivable thought if only because Dick is so soft on him, but it would prove very telling.

Hello, hello~ I’m getting by alright.  Sorry that I’ve not been posting much though!  And that it took so long to reply to this ask. ;3;

But yeah, Talia and Jason.  Because I’m a sucker for Jason whump forever and always, I’m partial to a relationship where Talia only cares for Jason because of his relationship with Bruce.  So there’s no love or genuine affection there for Jason as an individual, just as a convenient means of achieving a faroff goal.  Where Jason is, once again, collateral damage.

That’s a disservice to Talia though so like, reserved mother figure or just a lady who is fond of the nanny/bodyguard she found for her son is cool, too!

Thank you for reading so many of my posts!  It makes me happy that you enjoyed enough to read more. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Jason winning over the hearts of all the shop employees because despite his intimidating stature, Jason is a timid maiden as he wanders the shop.  His gaze keeps wandering to the delicate lingerie and corsets, but Jason’s convinced it’d be dumb on him because he’s not exactly dainty

Queue encouraging salespeople and clientele and Jason being so flushed that everyone falls in love with him

Also everyone being like, hot damn, because that bust to waist ratio?  Sinful.  Who’s the lucky guy that landed him?

It’s the atmosphere of the place that gets Jason sharing a picture of Dick and oh boy does Jason preen as everyone admires his boyfriend.

Just Jason having a good time despite the initial (and persisting because he’s a maiden) embarrassment lol.

And then he gets home and omgggggg Dick

Dick sneaks in and catches Jason trying to lace up the corset on his own and Dick is such a goner because hot damn hot damn he’s fainting don’t call for help though, just cushion his fall with those bolstered tits; let Dick catch himself with hands braced on that cinched waist fuuuuuuuuuu–

For real, Dick is just so delighted because Jason is so gorgeous (and cute and sweet, because of course he flusters and tries to explain everything away, but Dick isn’t a fool; he’s fully encouraging and supportive)

Then it’s just Dick pulling the corset tight for Jason

And marveling at the way he pulls Jason’s breath from him

Looking over Jason’s shoulder to watch Jason watching himself in the mirror

Then running his hands over Jason so that he can watch through the mirror

And when their eyes catch Jason is blushing red and the corset already has him short of breath, but seeing Dick’s heated gaze has him feeling faint–

Then Jason wakes up and Dick is all sheepish because he might have pulled the corset too tight, whoops; they were both a little overzealous

Dick wanting to go with Jason the next time he goes shopping.  He wants to pick something for him, too ;)

This ask.

Bahaha for comedy the baby is absolutely Clark and Jason's. Logic be damned, Bruce would be positively teeming with rage directed solely at his 'partner,' his 'better half,' his 'we're divorced now' bestie and just. One would think Superman went and impregnated Bruce's babygirl as opposed to the cloning that actually happened.

But yes, basically Bruce being mad because:

Clark 'knocked up' Bruce's darling babygirl

Clark is the father

The baby isn't Bruce's

Poor Clark can't catch a break, either, because Dick? He is his adoptive daddy's son through and through and is also teeming with rage directed solely at his 'hero,' his 'most revered mentor,' his 'i'm disowning myself now' second father figure because like. Really?? Dick just bought a ring?? ('But you haven't had your first date yet?' Clark would note, to which Dick would bristle because, 'It's serious-- ;n;').

Let's not forget Damian 'brocon' Al Ghul-Wayne, either. Because ahahaha. Even while Jon is dropping the biggest hints about being disappointed and wanting to start a family with Damian, Damian is zeroed in on Jon's dad because Clark and Jason? Absolutely not. As you might guess, Damian is teeming ahahaha. Because to him, Jason is simultaneously mother and babygirl. In that same vein, Damian's place as t h e b a b y in Jason's life has been stolen from him and he's distraught.

Meanwhile Tim is with Kon and they're just like, PHEW. Thank fuck. But then just a few seconds later they're fooling around because, 'no clones here; I'll put a baby in you myself,' and 'yeah? go ahead and try. ;)'

#dickjay #jaydick #another lightning round of replies

[breakfastteatime]

Today's minific is for the anon who requested 'break'.

The cantina is heaving, cheesy music thumping from an elderly sound system. Cal, BD-1 and Greez find a table at the back near the kitchen, with Cal tucked firmly into the corner seat where he can keep an eye on the comings and goings of everyone without running the risk of crashing into them and picking up the echoes adding an extra layer of noise to this place.

Greez looks at him. “Guess a place like this is a lot for someone like you,” he says.

“I’m fine,” Cal says, taking care to close his mind off to the Force. “It’s not like I’ve never been to a cantina before.” It is, however, the first time he’s been to one since he started repairing his connection to the Force. It’s making his head hurt. “These places are always busy.”

“You can’t tell me there was a single cantina on Bracca as lively as this,” Greez says.

“Depends on your definition of lively,” Cal says.

Greez laughs. “Oh, I’m sure you saw plenty of fights. That’s not what this place is. It’s just a bunch of people cutting loose and having fun.”

Cal sees what Greez is talking about, but under that he senses more. There’s a man at the bar looking to drink himself into oblivion after losing his job, and the bartender watching him knows him from the war but opts not to say anything. A woman slips and slides through the crowd trading credits for Spice. Far worse is the undercurrent of violence brewing under the music and dancing. There’s a group of people on the opposite side of the cantina who came here to get drunk and wreck something – or someone, if it comes to that. That’s more like Bracca, where Cal had kept himself small, quiet, and out of trouble as much as possible.

“Yeah, feels good to see a crowd again, ‘specially after the kinds of places we’ve been lately,” Greez says.

There’s a whistle of agreement from BD, who says it’s not so different from life on Bogano if you pit a bog rat against a splox.

Neither of them is wrong, yet Cal’s not sure why they’ve taken a break from the mission to come here. Maybe it’s because there’s only so long any group of people can stay cooped up in the same ship before someone goes crazy, and Greez has seemed twitchier than usual lately. Also, it’s nice to see another planet, even if it is an Outer Rim world with connections to just about every crime syndicate going. The Empire doesn’t have a presence here, so Cal feels surprisingly free.  

Cere arrives with drinks and a tray of bar snacks, most of which are deep-fried. She hands a cheap whiskey to Greez, puts a beer down in front of her seat, and hands Cal something fizzy and sugary. He looks up at her. “Seriously?”

She pushes a basket of fries in his direction. “You’re underage, and there are several enforcers in here.”

“So? There’s a drug dealer here and they’re not stopping her.”

“She’s on the same payroll and you’re not, so you’re not drinking,” Cere replies, sipping her beer. “Not bad. Eat up.” She produces a range of condiment packages from a pocket. “Before I do.”

Grabbing a handful of fries and a spicy dip, Cal stares back at her. “I drank on Bracca.”

Greez nudges him. “You’re not on Bracca anymore, and on my ship, we respect legal drinking ages.”

Cal nudges him back. “We’re not on your ship right now.”

BD beeps his agreement with Cal.

“Oh, hush you,” Greez snaps at BD. “You’re an enabler.” He grabs some fries, puts them on a napkin, and starts covering them in salt. “Cal, you are not drinking. I don’t wanna see you drunk or hungover because that has the potential to be messy.”

“One drink won’t get me drunk,” Cal protests. “My tolerance is better than that.”

“That’s not comforting,” Cere replies around a mouthful of fries. “Anyway, we’re here to take a break. Cal, your pace is admirable, as is your focus and determination, but sometimes you have to pause and reset. This is what we’re doing.”

Cal’s not sure he’s ever paused and reset, or if he did, it was way before he landed on Bracca where pausing and resetting equalled no food and unpaid bills. He sighs and reaches for his drink. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Cere says. “Have some fries. You’ve earned them.”

Cal follows orders. The fries are good, with that perfect ratio of crunchy outside to soft inside. He pulls more toward him and watches the crowd. He tries not to let the spots of darkness ruin his mood. Greez is right – most people are here to have fun. And while Cal is not about to get up and start dancing (the thought makes him want to melt through the floorboards), he can at least relax and enjoy the fact that, for tonight at least, no one’s actively trying to kill him.

“I definitely want a beer next time,” Cal says. He finishes his soda, punctuating it with a healthy belch.

“Guess we won’t be visiting any cantina’s again ‘til you’re of legal drinking age,” Greez retorts.

Legal drinking age. What a joke, “Greez, I bet I could go up there right now and get served,” Cal says.

Cere stares at him. “Fine.” She hands him a few credits. “I’ll take that bet. Anything to stop your complaining.”

“Oh, c’mon, what kind of bet is that when he’s a you-know-what and he can do weird shit to people’s brains!” Greez protests, barely keeping his voice low enough.

Cal snatches up the credits. “It’s a good bet, and I can’t do any of that.”

Five minutes, and way too many echoes later, Cal returns to their booth, a shotglass in his hand. Greez and Cere both stare at him in total disbelief as BD scans the purple liquid and announces its high alcohol content in a tone suggesting maybe Cal’s taken this bet too far.

“I can’t believe they served you,” Greez mutters. “Cere, this is on you if it backfires.”

“I’m not sure I can let you drink Lum, Cal,” Cere says.

“Says the former flask carrying Lum drinker,” Greez teases.

That’s a story Cal wants to hear later. For now, he takes the shot and ignores Cere and Greez. It burns a little on the way down, and the taste can probably be compared to rust, but he’s had worse on Bracca, between that one time with Prauf’s fire water and all the moonshine Tabbers brewed.

“Unbelievable,” Cere says, leaning back and grinning at him.

Shrugging, Cal reaches for Cere’s leftovers. “So, I get a beer next time too?”

Greez despairs. “Bracca ruined him.”

#fic requests 2023 #star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo minific #jfo headcanon #cal kestis #bd 1 #greez dritus #cere junda

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

@admiral-craymen replied to your post “@admiral-craymen replied to your post “This thing got confused by a typo.” So, do bogs bark? Or is it the dogs that bark? This...”

What's the difference between a dog and a bog?

One is small and cute and loves you and wants to eat you, and the other is much larger and meaner and doesn't

[freakingoutthesquares]

Photo from French concert later in 1994

"Then, in a burst of neon and dry ice, Pulp were among us! We simply drank in guitarist Russell Senior's pale lemon safari-suit and moonstone pendant. His lounge-lizard hair, dripping with ennui! His darting look of supreme indifference! And when he took off his white-framed sunglasses . . . glittery eye-shadow!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pop parody that is pure Pulp

26th April 1994

[this gig was recorded, and available here]

David Belcher bops to the rinky-dink melodies of a band that glories in the preciousness of popular music.

MORTALLY offended, my companion adjusted his Ziggy Stardust-inspired frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat. ''Fashion-victim?'' he snarled. ''I am no fashion-victim . . . I am a fashion-assailant!'' All around us, tacit support for this statement was provided by the clothing of other bold archaelogists mining rich seams in pop's Plasticine era (c. 1972).

We had gathered on Sunday in Glasgow's Garage to salute Pulp. Some of us, however, could also have been auditioning for a re-make of The Sweeney. Young women wore A-line denim mini-skirts. One youth posed with fey aplomb in red crushed-velvet tartan flares. Another affected a window pane check jacket which mimicked the size of pane found only in the windows of department stores. We anxiously scanned the skies around him for naval jets, lost these past 20 years, suddenly homing in on the aircraft carrier-width of his lapels.

Then, in a burst of neon and dry ice, Pulp were among us! We simply drank in guitarist Russell Senior's pale lemon safari-suit and moonstone pendant. His lounge-lizard hair, dripping with ennui! His darting look of supreme indifference! And when he took off his white-framed sunglasses . . . glittery eye-shadow!

Comparatively restrained in tight white jeans and silvery lurex shirt, Jarvis Cocker was nevertheless the cynosure of every gaze: teasing, laconic, deadpan, the perennial south Yorkshire outsider. Red-eyed and angular, the knowing Jarvis waggled his bottom and twirled his microphone-lead in an abandoned yet parodic manner. A fluttering boa was proffered from the stage-front throng. Jarvis accepted, inserted it 'twixt his lips, and showered his admirers with a mouthful of feathers. We swooned.

A between-song utterer of elliptical and breathy confidences, Jarvis glories in pop's ridiculousness. He celebrates his influences at the same time as he sends them up, 'said influences ranging from the Velvet Underground, Sparks, Johnny Rotten, Roxy, and Cockney Rebel to Alan Bennett's monologues, TV's long-lost Junior Showtime, and Billy Liar by Keith Waterhouse.

Most importantly, the transcendent Jarvis and his subversive band employ these disparate influences to make something new. Acidic, observant lyrics driven by rinky-dink pure-pop melodies . . . rev 'em up and point 'em at me, by gum.

Stuff pointy-headed critics droning on about Jarvis being the embodiment of the spirit of glam, blah blah . . . glam being a thematic construct for the working-class impulse to seek grace under pressure, blah blah . . . bedroom-bound adolescents from Sheffield council estates appropriating the pop process to re-invent themselves and thus defeat lives of stultifying ordinariness, blah blah blah. We boss groovers say this to tortured theorists: bog off, swotty, and bop to Pulp's tunes. And smile and think at Jarvis's words.

''Are there any perfect people in the audience this evening?'' Jarvis asked disingenuously at one point. There were scattered cries in reply. ''Apart from us, of course. Actually, I don't think there's anything to be gained by being perfect. Perfection's boring. Unless you have to make an effort, things don't mean anything.''

Flawed as we are, we drew reassurance from Pulp's efforts on our behalf. And how's about this for Cockeristic cock-eyed realism? ''I think that you have to hold on to the romantic view that things are going to turn out OK in the end, that there's a well-structured plot. Even when we know that there usually isn't. But we'd all like to believe that sometimes there's the sunset, the violins, and the titles coming down as you walk through.''

At this, there is empathic cheering. Jarvis goes on to advise against anorexia as an aid to glamour. He also says that there's more to life than the price of apples. Odd, yet perhaps not so odd. I look about me and realise, weirdly, that most of the audience are clad in normal apparel. Are Pulp closer to achieving mainstream acceptance than we might have expected?

As Pulp's melodies swell, conventional couples can be observed smooching. A bearded, balding middle-aged gent bobs his ponytail appreciatively. And at the back of the hall a diminutive flame-haired woman in a flowing black dress dances barefoot before falling dramatically to the floor, there to mime the sinuous stretchings of a cat. She hisses playfully and claws her boyfriend's leg.

I re-position my blond Afro and unfurl my companion's loon-pants, comforted in the knowledge that there's nowt so queer as everyday Pulp folk.

#russell senior #pulp #gig review

[walpurga-nacht-academy]

"R-Rosalia-senpai! It's a pleasure to finally meet you!" Persephone stuttered as she nervously greeted her senior. "I've been wanting to have a word with you ever since I saw your performance at the witch dances!" she added with her face facing towards the ground, her long bangs covering her expression. "It...It was truly...Incredible!" Persephone blurted out as she raised her head. Her eyes shining with admiration. "Your transformation... was what made me choose Rosenhex! I genuinely,,, admire you a lot! May I..know...what drives you to work towards your ambition? I know nothing of my own desires, so I would like to hear about what fuels you! ,,,, if you please." - Persephone

(Thank you so much for the ask and I'm so sorry for the late reply!!)

"Eh?" Rosalia barely managed to utter as she stared at the first year in front of her. Ever since coming to this academy and even more so after becoming Prefect, she's rarely experienced this sort of enthusiastic response from one of the students here. Less so from one coming from her own dorm. To say that she was surprised would be an understatement. It would be like saying that the Prefect of Galdtrea had a short temper. Glancing around, she tried to figure it if this was some hare-brained scheme from another of her classmates to try and humiliate her, get to fall for the bait and pull the rug from under her. That sort of thing.

Once she was sure that nobody was waiting to jump out and humiliate her, she finally looked back at the girl before her and nervously straightened her back. "I-I mean- Of course! That performance came out really great! I had it all totally planned out and stuck to the scenario with no deviations and... uh..." The hopeful gaze made her ego soar a little. She'd rarely been looked at like that since her enrolment. And for this act of rebellion too, which had cost her her own comeback and was received poorly. It felt good to have somebody praise her for being herself for once. "A-Anyway, um, you asked about my ambition? Right? It's really simple, actually! More than anything, I want to become the sort of actress who can portray villainous roles! Because those are the coolest, you know! It's like the mark of adulthood to play that sort of role where nobody treats you like a child or like you can't make your own decisions..."

She keeps quiet for a while, staring at the tips of her shoes. "Being Cherry was nice and all, because I could make other people happy but... At some point, it became too much about other people and I just felt like I lost myself in the role. Like I stopped being myself and became Cherry instead. And nobody seemed to mind which was really scary... That's why I want to become the sort of person who doesn't let themselves bossed around by anybody else, and taking my career into my own hands is the first step... I think."

Pausing again, she plasters a big grin on her face. "So that's what I'm gonna start doing! When it comes to what drives you, it's gotta be your own dreams and hopes and nothing else, right? You can't get bogged down by what other people think!"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanschool #twisted wonderland oc #twist #twist oc #twst #twst oc #twisute #twisute oc #rosalia morgainne #persephone #walpurga nacht academy #rosenhex

[mrsalwayswrite]

Hi dear~

Just wanted to admire your work "eye candy"☆

I feel like it had a potential to be longer.because it was well written,by including other charecters(like nurses as the reader's friends).because most of the stories about Bob are like "the only woman in the unit" which is...maybe a bit exaggerating?It was nice reading about the reader's nurse friends because it showed among them all(other girls)he has his eyes set only on you!it was a good "world building" nicer to get a better connection with their world,you know?you could feel their story is part of something bigger;which made it even more beautiful and special

Anyway I wish you the best in your upcoming writings darling~😍

Maybe for the almighty Ron Speirs?

thanks🤍🐳✨🫂💫

Hello! And thank you for the love and admiration of 'Eye Candy'. That means so much to me. ❤️

So when I first started writing, it was just going to be a one-shot, then I loved it so much, I wrote the second part...and then the third. I initially never meant for it to be a series but it kinda developed that way on its own.

At one point i did think about writing it as lots one shots but spanning the entire BoB storyline, so instead of a multi-chapter fic, where you kinda get bogged down with having to really delve into the story, I could jump around instead and focus only on what I wanted to. (If that explanation makes sense.)

And I'm so glad you liked the other nurses! That is one thing that occasionally bothered me about BoB stories is the lack of female presence. And the 'world building' for this story was just too much fun.

Thank you for the Ask and letting me gush about one of my favorite things I've written for BoB. (Sorry, it's taken me so long to reply.)

At this moment, I'm taking a break from writing BoB and exploring other fandoms but when I do jump back in, you know I'll be writing for the Almighty Speirs. He is my magpie, murder prince and i love him. ❤️

#mz answers #eye candy #band of brothers

[colophonxenophanes]

Fields On Fire

PART 1

            The ricochet of deliberate footsteps echoed through an empty corridor. The Pentagon was still practically deserted this early in the morning. It was just over thirty minutes before dawn and there was much work to be done before the generals and admirals arrived to receive their morning briefings.

            Lieutenant Colonel Vegeara lifted his gaze to present his face to the security camera as he tugged on his ID badge and held it a finger-width from the sensor. The bolt of the auto-lock sounded like the recoil of a distant gunshot. An armed enlisted soldier physically checked his ID as he entered and confirmed his face matched the photo. “Good morning Colonel Vegeara,” came the dry, routine greeting. He was eyes-front, emotionless, at one with his duty.

            “Morning Corporal,” Vegeara replied. He continued through the labyrinth of cubicles and offices, returning to his office and workstation, immediately outside the private office of the acting Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It had barely been five hours since he’d finished his work for the night and gone home. He had only been able to fall asleep due to a combination of noise cancelling technology, aromatics, and measured doses of magnesium and melatonin. He was awake now thanks primarily to a cocktail of vitamin compounds and strong coffee. His mind was already three tasks ahead as his secured computer grinded through a seemingly endless series of security protocols and verifications which required him to click through statements acknowledging that improper use of the system would subject him to federal prosecution.

            His first task was to read the General’s early morning emails. He had already checked most of the overnight messages on his mobile device, within minutes of waking up. Only the classified messages and those received within the last hour would be left. He would need to sort, prioritize, summarize, and synthesize all of this into a digestible three-minute oral presentation, which would be given to the General as Vegeara walked with him, briskly, from a secured entrance to his office. There was a busy schedule already, which had been finalized the night before. The content of the messages received in the first twenty minutes would determine if any last-minute changes had to be made.

            Such sudden changes had become the norm. Lieutenant Colonel Vegeara rarely permitted himself to reflect much on the momentous events of the last several years. He did not have time to indulge in such trivialities. He had important work to do and the pressure around the Defense Department and the Pentagon had increased exponentially. Only those who embraced the ‘adapt and overcome’ mentality managed to thrive in this environment. Vegeara believed that the key was to never allow oneself to consider all of the work before him as one monstrous undertaking. One had to process surface information quickly and subdivide the workload into numerous smaller tasks, prioritizing them according to importance and those which could be completed quickly. The trick was to manage larger tasks by attacking them in segments, never getting bogged down in a single item that might take all day, or longer.

            It was 0505 hours. The General would arrive within the next ten to fifteen minutes, requiring Vegeara to perform his preliminary scrub within five minutes in order to meet him as soon as he arrived. A prominent stressor was that much of the General’s schedule was occupied by in-person meetings, most of which the General had scheduled for himself. This complicated things for the staff, as such events tended to overlap on the schedule and often ran long, throwing off Vegeara’s ability to manage the day at peak efficiency. Almost as irritating, when the General set a private meeting in his personal office, he rarely provided the kind of key details that a staff member would, such as the number of attendees and their names. This often created chaos for the General’s staff, as high-ranking officers and officials would arrive without warning and disappear behind the large oak double doors for hours, leaving staff to scramble and work with subordinates from other offices to reshuffle other events.

            Today was no different. Large black blocks on the spreadsheet indicated segments of time the General had already marked off for unspecified meetings. Vegeara had adapted as well as one could, sharpshooting for less significant and ceremonial items for which the General had increasingly demonstrated little patience. About thirty percent of today’s scheduled items were low priority and subject to elimination. He marked them and sent a few electronic messages, prepping the battlefield for another day of constant change. Within four and a half minutes Vegeara was marching up another empty corridor to meet the General as soon as he walked in the door.

            “Good morning, Colonel,” snapped the General as he strode in from the secure garage, moving at full speed and not slowing down.

            “Good morning, sir,” came the reply.

            The General scratched a few notes on an index card with a mechanical pencil that Vegeara provided him. This had become part of the daily ritual. The card was tucked into a breast pocket and never seen again. He noted that prior to departing for the day the General tended to shred the card by hand and toss the pieces in a random trash receptacle. He also noted that the few times he had seen the shredded pieces of card, they did not seem to be enough to account for the entire card. He suspected the General kept the remaining shreds and disposed of them outside of the Pentagon, so as to ensure it would be impossible for anyone to reconstruct the card and thereby decipher the General’s notes or thoughts.

            This level of OPSEC did not concern Lieutenant Colonel Vegeara. It was merely an additional level of security, and for a man in the General’s position, such precautions did not evince paranoia, but rather practical care and self-preservation.

            The era of trust and easy espirít-de-corps in the United States military, particularly at the top, was long over. Politicians, bureaucrats, insiders, and ambitious officers were constantly looking and listening for advantageous information and looking over their shoulder to ensure they did not give up any. Scandal had become a weapon of choice and leaks to media allies an operational necessity. Many rising stars in the prime of their careers had been derailed by information attacks, leaving a hollow void in the middle of the leadership base of the military.

            No one was more keenly aware of this phenomenon than Lieutenant Colonel Vegeara. His position as executive adjutant to the acting Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff had been achieved indirectly from such machinations and maneuverings. He was a capable and well-organized officer. His record was impressive. But he was not among the dynamic and charismatic superstars that tended to be groomed for important positions. He had simply managed to make no enemies and maintain a low profile as he had progressed through the ranks. His organizational skills had caught someone’s eye and he had been assigned to assist the General in his previous billet. After a handful of high-profile resignations, retirements, and dismissals, the General was next in line to temporarily act as Chairman, at least until a new candidate could be appointed by the President. When the General assumed his new position, he took Vegeara and a few others over with him. In the intervening time he had developed a system to accomplish a job which had no appreciable limits and which seemed to change on a daily basis.

            The General was tightlipped about his dealings. Communication had tended more and more to be one way, with Vegeara providing information and answers to questions, and the General providing specific instructions that betrayed no information about what was going on in his mind. The General’s regular cast of visitors provided no additional information, other than one basic fact that Vegeara thought would be plain to anyone. Whatever was going on, it was extremely important.

[braveolpabear]

Sergeant Gundar along with his high-ranking commanding officer Colonel Porki of the Barnyard militis known as F.A.R.M intercept an urgent telegram from one of their superiors Admiral Bacoon that a whole gang of Weasel, Ferret and Raccoon Bandits are raiding F.A.R.M warehouses and hijacking their lifetime supply of pasta. Colonel Porki orders a few of his most trusted F.A.R.M troopers (Cows and Horses) to investigate this sabotage. Just then their old friends Papa Bear and his guardian angel Jodie the Heavenly Angel pay a short visit. Sergeant Gundar tells them both the story of the impending sabotage. Jodie promises the F.A.R.M officers that they will get to the bottom of this crime. Following an intense journey trekking through a bog the heroic duo arrive at The MediEvil Lair guarded by MediEvil Dragons. After punching the Dragon Guards out Jodie and Papa Bear disguise themselves as Dragon Soldiers to infiltrate the sinister lair. Sneaking into a secret facility the friendly duo discover that Isla the seductive but manipulative Green Dragoness Sorceress is responsible for the theft of pasta supply as well as the abduction of a few of the F.A.R.M troopers. Devising a plan Jodie uses her Golden Halo of Power to distract The MediEvil Dragons by creating illusionary images of various Farm Animals such as Cows and Pigs. While the savage beasts are temporary distracted Papa Bear frees the captured F.A.R.M troopers then tells them to hide the stash of pasta while they deal with the enemy. Isla grows tired of chasing the fake targets and orders her Dragon soldiers to check on the captives. Papa Bear angrily jumps up along with his guardian angel aka The Heavenly Whippet and cast a powerful spell on the startled Dragon soldiers although Isla manages to escape by quickly concocting a Teleportation Spell before her nemesis could put a spell on her. The MediEvil Dragons have been reduced to simple-minded, slobbering imbeciles with the mind s of primitive apes. Papa Bear and Jodie then recite another magic spell on their dumbed-down foes, making them become their work mules and ordering them to carry all the pasta supplies they stole earlier. Back at The F.A.R.M Base Colonel Porki, Sergeant Gundar and every single F.A.R.M soldier are delighted not just to have their fellow troopers back but most of their lifetime supply of pasta back. Admiral Bacoon congratulates the lovable duo for their heroic deed and then asks what are they going to do with these dumb Dragons. Jodie replies they cast a spell making them loyal work mules and that the F.A.R.M troopers can keep them on the base as pets. Admiral Bacoon thanks them and as a reward he offers them both a lifetime supply of Georgette's dairy products, including yoghurt. They accept. Back at The Castle of Heaven Papa Bear and his guardian angel Jodie start singing to ''Old Papa Bear had a Farm'' while bumping their butts as they celebrate their moment of triumphant🐮🐷🐗🐴🐽🐲🐉

#Disney Afternoon #Talespin #Colonel Spignot #Sergeant Dundar #Pleasure Paradise #F.A.R.M #Colonel Porki #Sergeant Gundar #Jodie #guardian angel #animal furrie #castle of heaven #barnyard #jungle #magic #papa bear #fatso #obesity #fat belly #chubby #dragon #medievil dragons #mission #sabotage #pasta #infiltration #spell #jungle shaman #distraction #illusion

[qserasera]

i'm like, perpetually at least two weeks behind my tumblr feed but belatedly for the writer ask game: ❤️🎬🦋 (hope you're well and getting enough sleep!)

GIRL....HELP. it has almost been a month since u put this in my askbox....and No i have not been getting enough sleep but IM TRYING T W T questions from this ask meme here

okeys i was rlly happy i got to sit down and answer some of these hehehe

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic? oh gosh...all these answers are going to be bg3 related on account of uh *waves hand* everything hahahaah ^ - ^

this would be a scene from stag hunt, one of those fics based on my own game playthroughs where my protag made an unwise choice with limited information and has some Regrets about it:

"He was defenseless!" This is the closest to shouting that Astarion has ever heard from her. Her eyes blaze, sparks against smokepowder. Like smokepowder, it flares, then dies down in a flash to cold ashes—gray and hollow. "And I—was my own greed that killed him."  Against his own will, Astarion's grip loosens slightly. "Layla—" She's not so unsteady as to crumble—but her posture slackens, the warmth of her forehead leaning into his shoulder, against his collarbone... Astarion presses his lips together.  What does she want to hear?  What does he even have to offer, in comfort?  She is the one with the soft touch, and he, the crooked one.  'You could have asked me,' Astarion does not say. 'You could have asked me to kill him. I would have. Just this once. To stain my own palms in red, to wield my blade at your word. I would have done it willingly, at your command. But you—' But she wouldn't, he knows. It must have been a side effect of all those songs she surrounds herself with—a streak of paladin tendencies in her, despite her bardic background.

for the context my favorite line written Has to be the one about astarion offering to be her blade, to take on the the dirty work so to speak...something something mirror image of a lionheart knight, but in reverse :'')) he doesn't have to, but that combo of unstated protectiveness/hinted at beginnings of devotion even when he's Not the type to necessarily think about others is very. Chewy to my brain.

🎬 If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?

ok OK. so. i already mentioned like every single genshin fic i've written for this question (pspsps emperor!zhongli and consort!childe) so. i have to choose something else her LKDJFLSD

when i finish my bg3 transmigration tav fic meeting magistrate astarion, it's going to be Very fun and good but until i have. i don't think i can do that XD

time for SURPRISE EXORCISTS WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

i always forget if u did read/follow up on natsume yuujinchou but if i had to film a very short movie/film for one of my fics, i think it might have to be in your periphery

it was one of those slightly Unhinged fic images that grabbed my brain and wouldn't let me go??? and i finished writing it in like. an hour.

i can see it being filmed like a 20-minute mini-episode, with lots of implied pining music in the background even as the main character Insists to themselves that he's moved past such silly feelings like childish sentiment :))

and for the aesthetics of it, i kno it's a cdrama and not a jdrama, but i would love it to have the slightly tragic, color-rich aesthetic of an ancient love song ahhhh

o w o i need to fancast them too....oh boy. um. i have no idea actually...their faces are already perfect to me in the manga ahhh

[img description: "matoba and natori stare at each other with surprised expressions"] someone else who knows more about the jdrama actors scene can cast them for me. 🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

oh gosh. i don't know?? (right now it would have to be astarion :)) but i do like character types who are. hm. not liars specifically, but they say one thing and do another thing (masks/identities/roles), even if they're feelings are telling them something different! schemers...planners. i also do enjoy writing uh. casually kind characters, if that makes sense.

what i cannot feel like i can write well yet are straight up extroverted characters.......it is. too advanced for me right now :''))) (that might explain why i enjoy reading fic about sportsball anime once upon a time, but very rarely Feel the urge to write something for them hahahaha)

another character type i can struggle with a little more are the ones that are ruthless/willing to be cruel since it's hard figuring out where the line between believably ruthless with some crunch for texture and cartoonish evil laughter would be lmao

i do sometimes like writing characters with less?? dialogue?? and just more thoughts, but that can be a problem for characters who enjoy talking overall (like astarion ; w ; )

thank u for asking these of me friend, thanks for patiently waiting for the response LKSDJFLKSDJFLSD

#blackidyll #have i been sleeping well??? uh. not. not a lot howbout u #hope these answers entertained and amused you!! #memeity meme #long post #fanfiction #replies to an admiring bog

[battinscn]

PLEASE DON'T GO — muggle au! theodore nott x f! reader

CONTENT WARNING: maternal death/ negligent father

SUMMARY: theodore is the typical bad boy next door. with his shaggy hair, uniform shirt always untucked and dodgy cat, your father would definitely not be pleased to know that he was the one courting his daughter. nevertheless, you loved theodore, and a little selfishly, the person you were when you were with him.

WC/ AVG. READING TIME: 1576 words/ 8 minutes

return to the theodore masterlist here

YOU WERE IN your last year of college, about to take your a’ levels in june.

you went to a rather prestigious public school, filled with snobby entitled kids with louis vuitton handbags and posh accents.

well, you couldn’t call them snobby when you grew up in a similar environment as them.

you kept tucking the stray hairs that fell lose from your ponytail behind your ear as you gripped onto your pencil tightly.

no matter how many times you tried to push the hair away, it kept bothering you, along with the frustration of you unable to answer to rather difficult accounting question. your accounts were not balancing and it was driving you quite mad.

you dropped your pencil harshly onto your desk and pressed your palms to your eyes, letting out a sigh.

after your dramatics, your eyes glanced over to the framed photograph you had of your mother the corner of your study table.

you admired the photograph lovingly and reminisced your childhood times with her.

a buzzing from your phone snapped you out of your daydream. you unplugged it from it’s charger and looked at the screen.

Whatsapp now

bog: open your window

you brows came to a furrow as you peeled your blinds up and opened your window.

and there theodore nott was, leaning against his leaning against his shitbox convertible that was parked outside of your front gates.

"y/l/n!" he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.

your eyes widened and you put your finger to your lips, silently hushing him, afraid your father would have heard him from your office.

you dialled his number onto your phone and rang him, sitting by the ledge of your window.

"go away," you tried to sound annoyed but your smile gave it away.

"nope, we are due for an adventure might i say."

"fine, i'll be down soon. and don't yell again, my dad'll have your head." you warned and hung up the phone.

you grabbed your bag and tiptoed down the grand staircase. most of the house staff had gone home from the evening, except for the few.

you prayed your father would not hear you as you shut the front door and put on your way too expensive trainers your father had gotten you because he missed your gcse results day.

theodore was already in his car when the front gates opened and you got into the passenger seat.

"hi," you breathed out, having ran through the front gardens before your father or anyone in the house could realise you were gone.

"hi," theodore replied and reached over to place a kiss on your lips.

you knew theodore from secondary school. he had managed to get a scholarship through football that paid for his school fees. he was only admitted during your last year there.

on the first day of year 11, during lunch, you were sitting in the canteen alone. you had a few close friends but they had a different lunch time as yours.

you picked at the cod on your plate when you felt someone settle onto the seat across from you.

"hi," theodore said as he shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

"er hi," you replied skeptically and looked around the rather spacious canteen and wondered why he specifically chose to sit with you.

the rest of lunch went by in silence as the both of you finished your food.

later that afternoon, when lessons were dismissed, you were waiting by the lifts to go back to the ground floor.

the lift doors opened and you got in. as the door was about to close, you heard someone shout.

"oi! wait up!"

you realised it was the boy from lunch and quickly pressed the ‘doors close’ button.

the door was just about to close and you almost breathed a sigh of relief when a hand jammed in between the doors.

the boy hopped onto the lift with you as the doors closed as you gave him a tight lipped smile.

"theodore nott," he introduced and stuck out his hand.

"y/n y/l/n," you shook his hand reluctantly.

you watched the numbers on the lift screen slowly descend, wanting to escape the awkwardness in the confined space as soon as possible.

growing up it was quite tough for you to make friends, always unsure if they were friends with you because they valued friendship or if they had other hidden motives.

and this boy who you had never seen throughout your school years was suddenly chatting you up, you figured it was the latter.

"what class are you in?" theodore asked.

"set 1,” you rocked on your heels.

"cool...cool..."

theodore was about to say something when you cut him off.

"look, if you want an intern position at my dad's office then you'll have to speak to a secretary, i'm not his personal assistant." you rubbed your temples and held your textbook closer to your chest your tone was more harsh than you had intended.

"oh. sorry. it's just that it's my first day and out of all the rich pretentious kids in this hell hole you seemed the most approachable." theodore tapped his fingers against the metal railings.

you cursed at yourself under your breath. no wonder you had never seen him before, he was a new student.

"shit, i'm sorry," you quickly apologised and the lift doors opened.

"nah, it's good. i'll see you around y/l/n," theodore waved goodbye and walked away.

and here you were, two years later in your boyfriend's car at ten in the evening.

you buckled your seatbelt and notice theodore's stare.

"i don't have makeup on, don't look too hard," you lightly pushed his face away.

you were in your school jumper and a pair of running shorts, hair a mess as you pushed your glasses further up the bridge of your nose.

"and you look just as gorgeous," theodore winked and pecked your forehead before starting the engine.

he shifted gears and placed his hand on your knee as he drove off.

"you hungry?" theodore asked.

"yes, dad's been on a new diet and mr crosby's cooking all this gross food. luckily he snuck me some pudding after but i'm still famished."

"mcdonalds?" he suggested.

your excited nod was enough of a reply for theodore.

"sorry, the restaurants closed, but you can still get a takeaway order." the staff offered.

and so there you and theodore were, sitting by the curb of the mcdonalds carpark.

"can i have some of your chips?" you asked.

"hmm?" theodore turned to face you, holding a chip between his lips.

you cheekily reached froward to take a bite out of it.

"you are insufferable," theodore chuckled as he shook his head.

"but you love me," you hummed and leaned your head against his arm, fidgeting with your shoelaces

"and i will for as long as i'll live."

"alright casanova," you pat his cheek, "hope you're not this sweet to your other girlfriends."

"i'm not, only to my side chicks though," he smirked as he wiped his mouth with a tissue.

your mouth dropped open, "theodore!" you swatted him.

"i'm joking! i'm joking," he brought an arm to your waist and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

when the two of you were finished with your food, you were back in theodore's car.

he had his roof down now, the rubbish english autumn weather making it a tolerable chill.

"you know, when we leave for uni we're not going to be able to see each other as often anymore," you pointed out.

"i know," theodore squeezed your thigh sadly, "but we'll make it through, i know we will."

"yea, i'm just going to miss you though," you picked his hand off your thigh and interlocked it with yours, kissing the back of it.

"and i will too. but we should cherish the time we have now," theodore tried to lighten to mood.

"i agree," you pulled your hair out of it's ponytail.

there was a comfortable silence that settled between the two fo you.

"you remembered what day it is didn't you?" you broke the silence, “that’s why you came over?”

"i did," theodore admitted, "i would've been honoured to meet the woman who raised such a brilliant and beautiful girl i am blessed to call my girlfriend."

"and she would've loved you, that i know. i'm sure she's at peace now, somewhere were she can watch after me and make sure i'm not sneaking out the house with some school boy and his dodgy car," you joked, looking up at the sky to say a quiet hello to your mother.

"i'm sure she is," theodore laughed along with you.

the passing wind was harsh as it blew your hair away from your face. you closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy moment with the woman who taught you what love was, and the boy who had taught you what being in love was.

join my taglist here!

tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @one-direction-harry-potter1 @harryjamespotterswife @fairydxll @xangel76 @daddysfucktoyslut @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi

#theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodorenott #theodore nott #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #fluff #theo nott #theo nott x reader #Spotify

[sidemenyesplease]

Harry being super cuddly in the morning after waking up

Mornings like these - Harry Lewis

Type - Fluff

Warnings - none

A/n - imaging waking up next to Harry in the morning , please.

Posted : 20.2.21

I let out a groan as I felt myself being woken up from the sunlight that was shinning in from the curtains in Harry’s room. I opened my eyes for a minuite to be able to see my phone and check what time it was.

‘10:45’ it showed making me let out a sigh and set my phone back down, dreading to get up from being in this comfy bed and not wanting to do anything today.

“What time is it?” I heard Harry grumble as I brought myself back closer to him, wrapping my legs over his again.

“10:45” I answered hearing him whine and use his arms to bring me even closer to him, if possible, and wrap the his blanket higher up on us as it had fallen down from me moving.

If you couldn’t tell by this, we are definitely not morning people. “I don’t want to do anything today” I admited to him as I moved half of my body ontop oh his to get even more confer.

“I have no sidemen videos to film until tonight” he started of telling me, immediately getting my attention and glanced up at him watching him talking but at the same time admiring his beauty. 

“So do you wanna have a bed day and cuddle all day?” He asked me, finishing his sentence, making me instaly smile.

Nodding my head fastly, making him chuckle, I rested my head back down and closed my eyes to hopfeuly get some extra sleep.

“You’re so pretty in the morning” Harry told me solftly as he gently brought his hand up to my face to tuck peace’s off my hair behind my ear.

“Stop it” I blushed, seeing him smile down lovingly at me, just make me blush more, feeling the vibration of him chuckling.

“You’re not to bad yourself Bog” I replied back at him, having him smile when he heard me calling him my his nickname, and give him a quick kiss.

“I love cuddling with you” he hummed as I felt him tracing his fingers on my arm. “What got you all soppy this morning?” I asked? But secretly enjoying it.

“Can’t I just give the person I love the most compliments?” He asked as he shrugged his shoulders, but I was also able to see him blushing lightly.

“I love you too” I said to him as I played with his hair. “Don’t mess up my hair” he whinned making me giggle and not stop.

“Oh hush, you’re not going anywhere anyway” I said making him pout and got himself to take my arm down to stop me playing with his hair.

“You are beautiful yourself, you know that?” I told him the truth, he truly is one of the most beautiful people.

“I’m meant to be the one giving you compliments” he pouted again making me roll my eyes but lean up to give him a kiss again, to stop his complaing.

“Thank you though” he thanked me as I smiled and played with his fingers, with got to be a random habit of mine since we started daiting, doing it either when I was bored or when I was nervous about something.

“You really do bost my confidence” he admitted , chuckling , remembering how often I give him compliments.

“Well there all true” I told him , still playing with his fingers.

“Who’s all soppy now” he mocked me from eariler making me roll my eyes at him and decide to ignore him.

#sidemen #harry lewis #w2s #wroetoshaw #harry lewis imagine #w2s imagine #sidemen imagine

[lepabebaa]

For your poem request thingamabob (if it’s still open):

Any member, you choose :D

The poem is I Am Nobody, Who Are You? by Emily Dickinson:

I’m Nobody! Who are you?

Are you - Nobody - too?

Then there’s a pair of us!

Don’t tell! they’d advertise - you know!

How dreary- to be - Somebody!

How public - like a Frog -

To tell one’s name - the lifelong June -

To an admiring Bog!

Feel free to take this in any direction you want, and tysm💕

oh wow this is actually so beautiful, thank you for sending it in!

usually i'm not one for couple tattoos but i saw the first two lines and my brain absolutely ran with it (writing under the cut!)

the buzzing of the machine cuts through your thoughts as the tattoo artist begins to inject the ink under your skin. excitement courses through your veins, not only because you're getting a line from your favourite poem, but damiano is getting the following line on himself.

"if you smile any harder your cheeks might explode amore." damiano teases, but you can't tease him back as all your focus is being placed on the quote coming to life on your arm.

you reach out with your free hand to intertwine your fingers with his, a feeling of sentiment blanketing your thoughts.

"thank you for doing this with me." you speak up truthfully, and he brings your hand up to place a gentle kiss on the back of it.

"there is nobody else i'd rather be a nobody with." he replies, making you smile bashfully.

he was right, there really was nobody else you'd rather be a nobody with...

because he is a nobody,

and you are a nobody too

a pair of nobodies taking on the world one day at a time.

#måneskin x reader #damiano david headcanon #måneskin imagine #måneskin headcanon #damiano david x reader #damiano imagine #damiano x reader #damiano david imagine

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

@admiral-craymen replied to your post “This thing got confused by a typo.”

So, do bogs bark? Or is it the dogs that bark?

This is probably the cutest, cutest, kindest message anyone has ever sent me. I am in awe.

#admiral-craymen

[azrielsbxtch]

Gwynriel Headcanon : Taking Care of Azriel

Gwyn walked into the dining room in the House of Wind hurriedly and let out a startled gasp as Azriel appeared before her. He was on his way out and they met right at the door.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” He asked as he bent to retrieve the contents that had fallen from her hands.A piece of parchment,her invoking stone and a book titled “The beasts of the Bog of Oorid”

“Interesting choice” he said as he handed the things back to her.

“I’m running from Merrill. As always, It’s my break time but she’s determined to make my life hell. Also It is an interesting read. Nesta told me about the bog and I was curious. Where are you headed off to?”

“The library “

They walked back into the room and sat at the table.

“What do you need?”

“I’m working on something for Rhys and I need to do some research “

“Okay what kind of information do you need?”

“Do you have any books on the old gods?

“Old gods.....I mean we have some history books about the formation of Prythian and the entities that ruled this land before the fae. But you’ll have to be more specific ?”

“Can you get me anything you have on Koschei? Now that Briallyn is gone,we need everything we can get on him. And the legendary warrior that trapped him on the lake. We need to find out more about her too. Her lineage and any possible offspring. Rhys and Amren have been using Helion’s libraries for research but I thought we should check here too”

“To be honest I can’t be sure. This is way beyond my expertise.You should ask Clotho”

“I should but you’re here” he said. “Ask Clotho” he said as he rose up. “If you find anything let me know. We can look through it together”

“Okay”

He nodded and left the room.

Five days later,Gwyn waited in the dining room for Azriel. She was with Cassian and Nesta who were having dinner and arguing about something. Gwyn couldn’t help but admire them. They were such a beautiful couple. Their love for each other shone in every action. Ever since their ostentatious mating ceremony thanks to Rhys they had become even more attached at the hip. Even now when they sat down for dinner on the wide table,Nesta sat next to Cassian but he lazily reached out one hand and dragged her chair until she was flush against him. That’s actually what they were arguing about.

“What if we go out in public are you going to drag my chair then too?” She asked smiling.

“Um...yes” he replied not even looking at her as he speared a piece of broccoli with his fork.

“Well what if the chairs are affixed to the ground and you can’t move it”

“Then you’ll just sit on my lap”

“I will not sit on your lap in public.That’s never happening” she laughed.

But Cassian was too distracted staring at her as she laughed. The emotion in his eyes was so fierce that even Gwyn blushed a little.

Finally she said “Um..guys do you know when Azriel’s coming back?”

“He’s already back” said Cassian

“Do you know when he’s coming to dinner?”

“He’s not” said Cassian. “He’s in his room. You can find him there”

“Do you want me to go with you “ asked Nesta.

But Gwyn nodded no. This was Azriel. Apart from Nesta,Cassian and Emerie he was the only other person she was 100% comfortable with.

“No. I’ll just go find him. I need to give him these books.”

She said goodbye to Nesta and Cassian who were now arguing over broccoli and made her way into the house to Azriels room.

As she reached the double doors,she hesitated. She’d never been in his room before. What if he wasn’t there and then he came back and caught her lurking? What if he wasn’t alone? Gwyn was still debating knocking the door when a tendril of shadow slowly unfurled from underneath the door. She giggled and said “Hello” in her musical voice. The shadow danced in front of her face. It was still dancing when another one twirled behind and her nudged her towards the door.

“Oh...um....okay” She rose a hand and knocked but there was no answer. He was inside though. His shadows were here after all. She rose her hand to knock again but the shadows nudged her again. As if saying “Just go in”

She took a deep breath and peeked her head through the door. She didn’t see anybody in the room. She slowly went inside and closed the door behind her. The room was large and very,very clean. Everything was arranged in a precise order. The bed was large enough to fit 3 illyrian warriors with wings spread. However Azriel wasn’t in it. It was impeccably laid though.The bed was next to floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the Rainbow of Velaris. In the darkness,the Rainbow glittered in a myriad of beautiful colors. Gwyn remembered Azriel telling her he hardly slept. She wondered if he spent his nights looking at the Rainbow. It was truly a magnificent sight.

She finally turned away from the window and looked around the room. There was a massive desk in the corner with papers and reports all filed with utmost precision. Not one stationary was out of place. There was also a large model of some weird solar model and contraptions Gwyn did not understand. Next to that was a chess set

The wall facing the bed had two doors. One at each end. She guessed the left one was a closet. And the right which was wide open was the bathroom. Wait was he in the bathroom! Gwyn was mortified. She had to get out of there before he came out. She dropped the books on the desk and turned to leave but the shadows swirled around her and started nudging and pushing her towards the bathroom.

“No! No stop it right now!” She whispered furiously.

But they danced immediately they heard her voice and one naughty one blinded her so she couldn’t see where she was going. When it released her,she had been pushed to the doorway of the bathroom.She glared at the shadows and was about to get the hell out of there when Azriel said

“Hey” in his soft voice

Gwyn turned around slowly and was rapidly turning the color of a tomato. Azriel was in a large bathtub. His wings flared above his head and he looked sleepy and adorable. In fact he looked like he just woke up. Did she wake him up? She knew he hardly slept.....and she had just woken him up....Wait how were the shadows active while he was asleep....this was so confusing. And embarrassing.

“Hey” she replied “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in here. I wanted to drop the books I found. They’re on your desk by the way next to the weird solar contraption thing and the chess set. Sorry I woke you”

“It’s fine. I’m not meant to sleep in here anyway” He paused and looked around adorably. Okay she had to stop calling him adorable. “I was going to wash my hair but I fell asleep.” He sighed and tilted his head against the edge of the basin looking towards the ceiling. He looked exhausted.

“When was the last time you slept Az?” She asked

He turned his head almost lazily and looked at her. He was so beautiful it was almost unfair. Those hazel eyes bored into hers as his eyebrows slanted in thought.

“Five days ago....I think” The day he asked her to find the books for him. And she knew he’d been away working since then. He got back today. So he’d been working non stop for five days. She knew Azriel held himself to sadistic standards. He put so much pressure on himself.No wonder he looked exhausted. Adorable and handsome but also very exhausted. Gwyn had no idea what possessed her when she said the next words..

“Do you want help....washing your hair I mean.....I could help.....”

Azriel was silent.

“Or not. Sorry it’s stupid. You just look really tired ....”

“ I’d appreciate that” he said

“Okay” she said and hesitantly stepped forward. She was nervous and she knew he could tell. She picked a white spherical ceramic basin off a shelf and filled it with water. Then she went to another shelf stocked with bathing oils,soaps and tonics. She turned to ask him which he preferred but his eyes were closed again. She picked out a strawberry shampoo. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the big scary shadow singer using strawberry shampoo.

She went over to Az and knelt next to him. Tentatively,she reached out and brushed his hair with her fingers lightly. His eyes opened slowly. Taking a deep breath,she took a bowl and slowly poured water over his tilted head.Then took the tonic,lathered it on her hands and began rubbing it carefully into his hair. Azriel let out a satisfactory sigh.

She massaged the tonic into his hair which was so so soft. Of course it was soft she mused. Everything about Az was perfect. She blushed at the thought while he looked at her curiously. She finished lathering and used the bowl to fetch clean water and rinsed him off carefully making sure the water avoided his eyes.When she was done she rose to get a towel but the towel was already floating towards her on a blue tinged wind. She collected it from the air and used it to dry his hair. When she was done it was sticking up all over but clean and soft.

“Come on get out of the bath. You can’t sleep in here” she said.She was still kneeling next to him. Their faces inches away from each other.

“Thank you” said Azriel. He was utterly baffled by Gwyn. He had never had anyone take care of him like that. In a long series of nightmares and trauma,this was one memory he would treasure forever.

His shadows wreathed around him as he rose from the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. He stepped out and offered Gwyn his hand as the shadows dispersed and she rose up barely reaching his neck. They walked out of the bathroom together.

“Give me a minute” he said as he walked towards the closet door. Some minutes later he came out wearing a loose shirt and pants. His hair no longer sticking up everywhere and his feet were bare. He went over to the desk where Gwyn stood and looked over at the books.

While he was looking Gwyn asked “How come your shadows were....active.... when you were asleep?“

He looked up. “They’re sentient. They don’t sleep when I do. They never sleep actually.”

“ They didn’t warn you when I was in here. I thought they tell you everything “

“You’re no danger to me”

“But you said they tell you everything remember. Whether it’s a danger or not....like how they told you Nesta was faking her limp because she wanted to sleep in that one morning” she said with a smile.

Azriel paused. As if he hadn’t considered that too.

“I guess ....they like you?” he said it like a question. As if his shadows despite being sentient had never shown an active interest in another person before.

“Yeah....I like them too” Gwyn said as one darted out to curl around her ear. As if it wanted to whisper to her too. She smiled happily. Azriel was staring...at the shadow around her ear....and at her.

Eventually she cleared her throat and said “Well I have to go now. Meet me tomorrow to go through all the books okay”

“Okay” he said.

“Get some sleep Az” she added before walking out. She didn’t notice the shadows trailing after until the door closed behind her. Azriel slowly shut the book he was holding,walked to his bed and lay down. His shadows settled around him contentedly. A few minutes later he was asleep.

[allsassnoclass]

okay so re: smutless long fics, I’ve tried to compile a list of fics as close to 50k words as possible since that’s the wordcount the anon cited and tbh my friends there really are not that many that I personally have read but I did my best.  All fics under the cut are over 30k and have either been verified good by me or my trusted friends

delete this transmission by @anxietycalling: 67k mashton sci-fi. I reread this one recently and it’s just as amazing the second time around I very highly recommend it

“Yeah,” he says, catching sight of his reflection in the dimly reflective surface and running fingers through his hair to fluff it up. And instead of getting on the mag-train home like he wants to, he catches the northbound train to the greenlawn with Calum. “You know, I think I might not go through with it,” he tells his best friend, meaning his activation. They sit together across from the back doors of the car and watch the adverts for an upcoming showing of ‘Titanic’ at the interactive theater. While Calum sits beside him silently he gnaws on a thumbnail and wonders whether it’s too late to get his money back.

“You can’t go back on it now,” Calum tells him.

And it’s true: His payment has already been processed, the credits removed from his profile. The invoice showed up in his e-net overnight and he’d added it to his encrypted folder. “It’s just - weird,” he says, weighing each of the words on his tongue before he speaks. “To be in charge of another person like that. I don’t want that responsibility.”

I’m a Falling Star by @pixiegrl: 55k lashton fantasy, very cute and sweet

A philosopher once asked, “Are we human because we gaze at the stars or do we gaze at them because we are human?” Pointless really. “Do the stars gaze back?” Now that’s a question.

Or: Ashton’s a shop boy setting out on a adventure to find a star to help grant a wish. Luke’s a star crashed to Earth looking for some help to get back home. They’re both in for more adventure than they bargained for.

I Wanna Sleep Next to You... by milecgv: 54k malum college au.  I read it over a year ago but I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it then

"Cuddle buddies, how can I help you?"

Pausing, Calum thought, he could just hang up. Get over the moment of weakness and face the rest of the night alone. He could do it. But the idea of spending one more second alone, brought a fresh pang of hurt to his heart and really, he couldn't bear it. Before his thought process could spiral out of control, the calm voice repeated itself.

"Um, yeah. I-, I need someone to-" He cut himself off because really, how was he going to phrase this?

Chuckling softly, the man on the other line interjected. "Sir, do you need someone to cuddle you?"

Shit, it was now or never. "Yeah. I-uh, I do." His voice came out so small, and he really hoped the man on the other side wouldn't pick up on how desperate he was.

~~~

Calum gets the opportunity to live out his dreams in New York City but it proves too much for him, and on a lonely night he ends up calling the professional cuddle service he swore he'd never call.

those are the only three completed fics over 50k that I personally can vouch for, but here are a few more longer ones I’ve read and I’ll link some over 50k that have gotten good reviews from my friends after those.

Destination: Perth by onlythevoid: 34k lashton 

The stranger swung into the seat next to him and sighed contentedly. Luke stole a glance from under his hat. It was a boy with light-brown messy hair, reminiscent of surfers Luke saw on the beach in Brisbane - he had a t-shirt on and black jeans, and fade-tint round-frame sunglasses propped on his straight nose.

The stranger caught Luke’s eyes.

“Hey?” The stranger asked. Shouldn’t have looked at him, Luke thought. Too late.

The stranger had set his sunglasses on his head and was peering below Luke’s cap. “Dude. You look terrible. Are you okay?”

Oh, so the stranger was one of those guys. Too friendly and ever-inquisitive. Yes, Luke looked like shit; he’d been crying for an hour at a time, every few hours, and all he’d had to eat in the past two days was some wet broccoli at the hospital and a bag of chips he’d bought that morning in Brisbane, and there were bruises all up and down his right arm from a car crash he wished he’d died in.

Luke didn’t say any of that. He prayed his voice would be steady and said, “Yes. Thanks.”

The messy-haired boy did not seem convinced. After a pause, he offered, “My name’s Ashton, by the way.”

hello, hello by @clumsyclifford: 30k lashton

For one long, blinking minute, Luke stares at Ashton and wonders if he’s hallucinating. Because that’s definitely Ashton. That’s Ashton Irwin, his former best friend from Sunny Days, the show they co-starred on as children.

But it’s also definitely Ashton Fletcher, professional film actor worth many millions, possibly hundreds of millions, of dollars, standing on his doorstep, wind ruffling his hair.

Now for the fics that I haven’t read but can confidently say are good through a rigorous peer review system (aka I have friends who read them/I have read and enjoyed other works by these people)

home is wherever you are tonight by @lifewasradical: 72k lashton. this one is on my tbr, I have only heard good things, and I’ve read other things by Amanda and trust her as a writer

Life has become so mundane in the past few years that there’s very little that sends a thrill up Luke’s spine anymore. It’s that idea that had him saying yes to the idea of moving out here for a few weeks anyways: the knowledge that this was a completely new place where no one knew his name. He could be anyone he wanted to be here, within reason. He wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again after May, so what’s the harm in becoming a new person for a bit? Someone not so bogged down by the shit in their head that they can’t get out of bed some mornings. Maybe this is a step in the direction of the person Luke wants to be in the future anyways.

Or, Luke inherits a beach house on a tiny costal island that needs some work. He didn't plan on falling in love with the guy at the hardware store.

world war series by prettyluke: 58k lashton historical au. Megs really likes this one and I trust her judgement

Even after months of seeing bodies ripped apart by bullets and bombs, Ashton still isn't prepared to be ripped apart by the fragile German soldier who has seen far more than any child should.

and

Luke shows up in Britain after 25 years right in time for World War Two to start, and Ashton has been waiting for someone to yank him from his melancholy since Christmas of 1914.

i’ll keep on fighting (just to make you believe) by @squishmichael: 33k muke I have heard good things about this one, have read other works by Taylor and trust them as a writer, and also I did skim this one when it first came out and it’s good I just need to sit down and fully read while paying attention

“Hi, Mike,” Luke says softly.

Michael might have cried from hearing his voice so clearly, not through a phone line, but instead his smile just gets bigger and bigger until his cheeks hurt.

“Hey, Luke,” he replies before throwing himself at Luke, arms looping around his neck and holding tight.

“Easy there, tiger,” Luke says with a chuckle, but he hugs Michael back.

It feels so different, all the shapes and sizes wrong, yet Michael has never felt so at home, melting right into the hug. Luke still fits so perfectly against him despite everything. Because it’s them, and they’re meant to be, and Michael never wants to let go.

*

In which Luke is finally coming home to Australia for the summer after two years, and everything should be perfect. Michael quickly realizes nothing is.

Under the High Low Lights I See You There by @pixiegrl: 33k lashton 90s bar au. I have heard a lot of good things and I have read and enjoyed Emily’s writing

Luke moves onto cleaning the glasses, sneaking glances over at him, admiring the open blue flannel he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his chest in the white tank top he’s wearing and the pull of it over his muscles, the acid wash denim pants straining over his thighs. He’s attractive and Luke knows he shouldn’t be looking, shouldn’t be so obvious in his stares, but he can’t help it. The man was made to be admired.

Or: It’s the summer of 1996 in New York City when Luke meets Ashton at his bar. Things aren’t always as they seem.

He Did Ballet by @kaleidoscopeminds: 34k cake. people love this one and meg is a great writer

Like the way he danced, everything in Luke's life was perfectly placed, an allegro exercise all on beat, an enchainment with no mistakes. The last thing he needed was a distraction, something to pull his attention away and make him stumble, like losing your spot during a series of fouettés. He glances back towards the bar and sees Calum still looking in his direction. Luke catches his eye again by mistake for just a second too long and Calum smiles slowly and winks at him. Luke shivers slightly and already feels slightly unbalanced. Calum is definitely not a good idea.

Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple.

The Sun Is Burning Down Los Angeles by @burstingsunrise: 40k cake. have heard good things and Molly is a good writer

Calum probably signed a form saying he wouldn’t fall in love with the lead singer of the band. And he really doesn’t want to. What a cliché. It’s just…people get famous for a reason. This guy got famous for all the reasons.

***

Calum moves to LA to work for 5SOS.

#fic rec #there really are not that many (good quality) smutless works over 50k #like less than I thought lol #and i think that the over 50k is key here #because i've seen other fic recs with like. 20k fics on them but that's not a TRUE longfic yknow #like none of my fics should be considered a longfic I don't think. unmute will eventually but that's not finished #anyway feel free to add any smutless fics over 50k that y'all know of that i missed!