#like I think people like talking to them about books but not when it's books they just spent a week intensively flirting about

[malfoyscoffee]

message in a bottle ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader genre fluff | 1.8k words | friends/fwb to lovers warnings mentions of drinking alcohol, use of y/n song "message in a bottle" — red (taylor's version), taylor swift

YOU WOKE UP IN THEODORE NOTT'S BED, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of his dorm room. His room was a comfortable mess, with books and clothes scattered around, and the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air.

You sat up stretching, feeling the warmth of the blanket cocooned around you, and glanced at Theodore, who was still half-asleep beside you.

"Y/n, come on, stay a bit longer," Theo mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he reached out to pull you back into the warmth of the bed. His eyes, heavy with sleep, pleaded with you to stay.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I can't, Theo. It's Sunday so I need to complete my Transfiguration paper."

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, his messy hair adding to his disheveled charm. "You always leave early in the morning. Can't you take one day off and cuddle?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of spending the day wrapped in Theo's arms, but you knew you couldn't afford to slack off. "I wish I could," you replied, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "But if I don't finish this paper, McGonagall will have my head."

Theo smirked, watching you as you searched for your shoes amidst the clutter of his room. "You know, most people would kill for an excuse to stay in bed longer. Especially with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, finally finding your shoes and slipping them on. "Nice try, Nott."

He sighed dramatically, leaning back against his pillows, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow on his features. "Fine. But you're going to Draco's dorm to hang out later, right?"

You smiled, grabbing your robe and heading towards the door. "Of course. I'll see you later, Theo. Try not to miss me too much."

He laughed, throwing a pillow in your direction as you left his room. The cool air of the dungeon corridors greeted you as you made your way back to your own dorm, a contented smile lingering on your lips.

Later that night, all of your friends decided to drink, but after running out of alcohol, you and Mattheo offered to go get some more. Thankfully, the Weasley twins owed you a favor, and they had some leftover liquor from the last Gryffindor party.

Although both of you were tipsy, making the entire journey humorous, you were sober enough to navigate the dark corridors.

"Matt, stop, you're going to wake up the entire floor!" you shushed Mattheo’s laughter as you walked up the stairs to the dorms.

“All right, all right,” Mattheo whispered back, his voice still carrying a hint of amusement. He was holding the crate full of bottles, which were making noises with every lousy step.

As you approached Draco’s dorm, you slowed your steps, Mattheo following suit. The low murmur of voices from inside caught your attention.

“What do you think they're talking about?” you whispered to Mattheo.

Mattheo's eyes gleamed mischievously. “Let's find out.”

You nodded, turning Draco's door knob quietly to open the door. When the door had a small crack, you both inched closer to the hole, trying to listen in without being noticed.

“So, when are you confessing to Y/n?” Blaise's voice rang out, breaking the quietude of the hallway.

“I’m tired of listening to how you're going to ask her out, then never have the guts to actually do it,” Blaise continued, his tone laced with amusement.

The mention of your name made you hold your breath and you felt Mattheo tense from beside you. In your best friend's head, you weren't supposed to find out this way.

“I agree with Blaise,” Lorenzo chimed in. “Just go on and ask her out already.”

Then came Pansy's voice, her tone teasing. “I can't believe you've fallen for your friends with benefits.”

Theodore Nott likes you?

"I heard Diggory is planning on asking her out this week. If you're serious about her, you should make a move before him."

Theodore sat in silence at Draco's comment, the gears in your head turning like clockwork.

You stole a glance at Mattheo, the new information soaking in. He smirked at your clueless face before he stood up straightening his back and had you do the same.

“We’re back with more bottles! Who’s ready to drink more?” Mattheo walked inside the dorm to set the crate down.

You felt yourself sobering up as you stood by the door, still taken back at the new information. Eventually, you stepped in, closing the door behind you, the open spot next to Theodore reserved for you.

When you sat in your old seat, Theodore’s arm snaked around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. He placed his hand on your thigh, joining in the new topic that your friends were discussing.

The night continued as if nothing had changed, but the knowledge of Theodore's feelings weighed heavily on your mind.

You laughed along with your friends and enjoyed the drinks but you couldn't help calculate to all of Theodore’s touch, as it felt more meaningful.

The next day, you woke up with a knot of nerves in your stomach. You had Potions class with Mattheo, and you were determined to ask him for confirmation about Theodore. You’d had a crush on Theo for years, and the uncertainty was driving you crazy.

As you walked to the dungeons, you noticed the familiar hustle and bustle of students making their way to class. The cool air and the stone walls of Hogwarts offered little comfort as you navigated through the corridors, your thoughts consumed by the conversation from last night.

When you entered the classroom, you spotted Mattheo setting up your workstation. He glanced up and offered you a small smile, but you could tell that he sensed something was bothering you.

Professor Snape swept into the room, his presence commanding attention. "Today, you will be brewing Veritaserum," he announced, his voice cutting through the quiet chatter of the students.

After a brief reminder of when the potion was due, the classroom erupted into activity as students gathered ingredients and prepared their cauldrons.

You and Mattheo worked side by side, but your mind was elsewhere, the events from last night playing on a loop in your head.

About halfway through the class, as you waited for a potion to simmer, the room filled with the low hum of conversations. Seizing the opportunity, you turned to Mattheo, the anticipation of the previous night's revelations still weighing heavily on your mind.

"Matt," you began quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. You glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, the tension palpable in the air.

"What's up, Y/n?" Mattheo replied, his voice barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the cauldrons. He looked at you expectantly, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Last night, when we overheard the conversation in Draco's dorm... about Theo," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, the weight of the revelation pressing down on you.

Mattheo's face softened, a knowing look in his eyes as he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's true. Theo's fancied you for a while now. You weren’t supposed to find out that way, he’s been wanting to confess. He just hasn't had the guts to say anything."

You sighed in relief and frustration, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "I really like him too, but I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm just waiting for him to make a move but it’ll take forever."

Mattheo smiled sympathetically, his expression filled with understanding. "Sometimes, you just have to be patient. Theo will come around. He's just... not good at expressing his feelings."

His words offered some comfort and you forced yourself to focus on the potion in front of you, but your mind was still consumed by thoughts of Theodore.

After classes finished, you were sitting by the Black Lake, enjoying the warm weather and the rare moment of peace. The sky was clear, and the gentle breeze made the day perfect for a relaxing break.

You noticed Cedric Diggory standing nearby, looking like he wanted to approach you. He caught your eye and walked over with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted, standing beside you. "I've been meaning to ask you something." You smiled back, though your mind instantly recalled Draco's words the other night

"What's up, Cedric?"

"Well," Cedric began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

From a distance, Theodore saw you talking to Cedric. His heart sank as he saw Cedric leaning in, seemingly asking you something important.

He couldn't hear the conversation, but he could see the serious expressions on both of your faces. Panic surged through him as he rushed over, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Theodore left Pansy and Draco's side, their faces confused at his sudden departure. It was when they saw that you were with Cedric, that the two smirked with knowing looks.

As Theodore got closer, Cedric smiled at you one last time before walking away, leaving you alone. Theodore reached you just as Cedric was disappearing from view.

"Y/n," Theo said, slightly out of breath, "Can I talk to you for a second?" You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat.

"Of course, Theo." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I saw you talking to Cedric, and I don't know if I'm too late but I need to tell you something. I’ve fancied you for a long time, and I’ve been too scared to say anything. I know we're already seeing each other for other reasons, but I fell for you hard."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, causing Theo to look at you in confusion.

"What's so funny?" You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips.

"Theo, I overheard everything last night. I know that you like me. And just now, when Cedric asked me out, I told him I fancied someone else."

Theodore’s eyes widened in surprise. "You did? Who?" You took a step closer, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his heart race.

"It’s you, Theo. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me out." A look of relief and joy spread across Theodore’s face.

"Really? You like me?" You nodded, smiling up at him.

"Yes, really." He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding.

"So, how about we make this the start of something new? No more friends with benefits, but an actual relationship?" You squeezed his hands, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his words.

"I’d like that very much." As you both sat down by the lake, hand in hand, you realized that the waiting was over.

Your message has been received.

[t1red-twilight]

oblivious pining headcannons

summary: you and spencer are so unbelievably unaware.

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, idiots in love, cursing

notes: i’m so lonely (rip)

word count: 0.4k

masterlist

- spencer is blissfully unaware and in denial that anyone could ever like him romantically

- this is driving the team INSANE.

- because you are interested. very much so, in fact.

- you have his coffee order memorized, and you even bought the creamer he likes for the office

- “i made you coffee:)”

- “this is perfect! thank you? how’d you know what i like?”

- “i bought that creamer you like!”

- and derek just kinda stares in bewilderment. “these idiots are so fucking dumb. oh my god.”

- hotch has taken to being cupid (middle school teacher style)

- you are assigned to share rooms with each other, and you accept no questions asked. (like when teachers put kids who have crushes on each other next to eachother on the seating chart)

- “it’s just because we are close friends!” no. it is not.

- spencer always saves you a seat on the jet.

- gets pissed when anyone tries to take ‘your spot’

- loverboy™

- staring at each other when you think nobody is looking

- lingering touches

- this becomes magnified when one considers that spencer is a germaphobe

- emily was watching in disbelief as spencer was showing you something about the geographic profile. you were practically nestled into his side; very much in his personal bubble. “morgan, come here.”

- “oh my god. so much for ‘bacteria transfers instantaneously.’”

- going out of his way to be near you

- he approaches you whenever you enter a room

- he doesn’t say anything most times. just kinda stands next to you

- you’re the only one to listen to his tangents

- “you didn't finish talking about narcissistic tendencies earlier, spence.”

- “oh! so narcissistic breakdown can be identified through-”

- he points out your little quirks to other people

- “they do that when they’re nervous. i hope they're okay”

- now that i mention it

- CONSTANTLY checking in on you.

- “are you okay?”

- “i’m still good to come over right?”

- “text me when you get home, okay?”

- he’s hyper aware of your little tics and can read you like a book:(

- like he is so perceptive and will then proceed to check in on you (as stated previously, he does quite a lot)

- researches your interests so he can talk to you about them lol

- eye contact 24/7 (i’m a sucker for puppydog eyes</3)

- team is lowkey disgusted by your sickly-sweet interactions

- minus rossi. who will just say something about his third wife and be like “ah. young love.”

- he holds your hand all the time. will wiggle his fingers to get your attention

- anyway it's just really sweet

- you're really sweet with each other.

- and even though it's excruciating to watch, the team encourages you two that you should just ask the other on a date

- and when you do, it's a quiet win for everyone.

[n3xii]

What Are People's First Impression of You?

this post is aimed at giving you a insight at what other people's first impression of you are. To choose your pile, allow yourself to be drawn to the perfume that feels most prominent to you.

I am selling personal readings at the moment, I offer customized questions, aura readings and a few other interesting topics! to book a reading, look here

PERFUME ONE

other peoples impression of you: nine of pentacles, three of wands, three of cups

First of all, the nine of pentacles corresponds to venus in Taurus. This is the card of self sufficiency, pampering and rewarding yourself for hardwork. this card also signifies a person who has a keen sense of fashion. This tells me that people's first impression of you is that youre very well dressed, attractive and polished. you give poeple the impression that you care about how you look but not because you want to impress others, but because you enjoy pampering yourself and feeling beautiful. People get the sense that you are very self sufficent, that you work hard for your own success and that you're willing to treat yourself to a new bag, some new wardrobe or some new makeup when you have achieved something. The three of wands expands on this by saying that you give the impression that you are someone who has a vision for their future, you give people the sense that you are on a mission and that you are out to achieve something. the three of wands is someone who has a clear path ahead of them, they're taking action and setting their own goals into action. I feel like people get the impression that you're very "self made" that you havent had to rely on anyones help or support to set your own goals into action. you're someone who is very motivated and willing to take the lead even if there is no one there to validate your actions. The three of cups tells me that people get the impression that you are very social and lively, perhaps you give people the sense that you have lots of friends and that you like to go out alot. The three of cups is a lovely card, and honestly im hearing "a girls girl" which tells me that you give people the impression of sisterhood and safety.

PERFUME TWO

cards: three of swords reversed, two of swords, and ace of cups

the three of swords reversed tells me that peoples first impression of you is that you have healed and recovered from something truamtic and emotionally overwhelming. the three of swords reversed is a card of healing and rebuilding yourself, I feel like people get the sense that you are trying to repair yourself at the moment and that you are recovering from a loss or extreme diaspointment. The two of swords tells me that people may receive this impression that you're at a cross roads, that you're trying to make a decision from a place of trusting yourself and not relying on other people's input, people get the sense that you're trying to internally find clairty about your situation in life at the moment. Additionally, the ace of cups is a beautiful card to get about other people's first impressions of you. This is of a blessing or a miracle, I feel like some people get the impression that you have come into their lifes at the right time and at the perfect moment, that you bring people a renewed sense of hope. I feel like people get the sense that you're someone who brings a fresh, loving and bright energy into peoples lifes.

PERFUME THREE

cards: three of pentacles, five of cups, and page of cups

Ok, the three of pentacles is a card of skills, teamwork and communication. I feel like you're the type of peroson eveyrone wants to have on their team, a person other people look forward to wokring with because you bring alot of knowledge to the table, additionally, you bring a dynamic and flexible attitude which makes it very easy to talk to and ask questions to. however the five of cups makes me think that people get the impression that you're very self depreciating, I think other people see how valuable and helpful you are but you only see what makes you imperfect. I dont know why but I just strongly get the impression that people feel that you are way to hard on yourself. The page of cups here tells me that people perhaps get the impression that you're younger than you are, or that you are extremely open minded. Your bring a "childlike" perspectives to certain things, and I feel like you make people laugh with how you react or interact with others.

[7brownsuga7]

The God who answers after dark ☆ The intro:

Summary: You used to pray to the Gods after dark before you went to sleep, always thinking that you were praying to the good kind. The kind that showed mercy. However you were mistaken, as time passes and you grew older and wiser it will be revealed that your prayers were answered, but not by the Gods you thought you knew, but the dark kind. The kind that your grandmother used to warn you about. Ones you hear in stories. The kind that you should fear, but how can you when it's all you know. How can you when he was the only one who answered?

Tags&warnings: Jungkookxfemreader, mostly fluff I guess, a bit of smut if you would call it that?!?? age gap I guess?!!? Jungkook is obsessed with reader, a bit delusional. Slight manipulation???! MDNI!!!

Word count: 3k+

Note: making this into a series🫶🏽 this is just a little something that I wrote when I was bored. Be prepared for more obsessive and possessive Jungkook!

Was inspired by the book invisible life of Addie-Larue

The God who answers after dark ☆ series master list: Here ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was dark.

The night creating shadows in the corner of your room, allowing your imagination to run wild, creating things scary to imagine.

You wasn’t scared though, because you knew it was your imagination. And because you’ve experienced something way darker. You invited him into your home with a simple whisper, let him talk to you throughout the many dark nights, telling him your dreams and wishes of a better life where you are happy and loved.

You was always an imaginative child. While you watched others make friends, you created your own, that grew along with you. Who only came out at night.

You first called upon him when you were only seven. Mindlessly talking to the open air. You had wanted a friend. A friend you could talk to, play with, share secrets with. So you stared off into the dark and talked about nothing and everything. However, when you saw the shadows in the corner of your room move, and sit before you did you realise that you summoned something else. Not a friend, not an imaginary one, something much darker. Still you spoke to it, and it spoke to you like rough winds in the cool night. It comforted you like a cool breeze in a summers heat.

You found comfort in him. You would mindlessly tell him your dreams. He would make empty promises of giving you that dream felt life. Empty, because they came with a price that you were not willing to pay for. Still he would sit beside you and listen to your stories and dreams.

You had asked him what his dreams were and he had told you that he was the son of a God - he had none, but he could grant them within due time. When he himself became a God. So he settled with telling you stories about Gods and wars. Desperate souls and deals. The kind his father spoke to him about, the kind he experienced himself.

Then, he was an angel, the son of a God he refused to speak of. Now, he is a God himself, the God of Darkness. Like the type you’d find deep in a forest, hidden behind the shadows of the trees, infused within the night that covers the sky like a blanket. Comforting to some, suffocating for others.

You was a child who had a lot to wish for and no control of your imagination back then. His company grew on you so much that he was like an accessory to your room. Like a cushion that decorated your bed, a small plant that had a home on your desk, a stack of books that rested in a pile on your bedside table. He felt like home.

The man that would sit before you, appearance created from your imagination - answered you everytime you called on him. He was always there with you. When you looked out of your window at night, when you wrote in your diary about the stories he’d tell you. In your dreams. He was always there.

It was dark.

So you did what you’ve always done when the lights went out, and people lay deep asleep. The night silent and still.

You called for him.

“Yes my love?” He appeared from the dark corner of your room. Once a shadow, now a man that sat before you on your bed. The only bit of light was the shine from the moon and the small warm lamp next to your bed.

You always expect the bed to shift as he sits down, but his weight is like a feather held in one’s palm. Light and weightless. Proof that the form you see before you is none other than what he has stolen from your imagination. His true form something like a stream in the night. Dark and shallow.

His lean body presented in a white button up shirt and black slacks. Very simple, but styled so well. He was always so well presented, dressed so elegantly. You knew that that wasn’t your imagination that created the fine attire, it was simply him, the Darkness who was a charmer, who had lived many years before you. Of course he’d picked up some style on the way.

“I want to be loved” you spoke out, tone delicate like a whisper, too embarrassed, too afraid.

“Y/n my dear, you are loved by many. Your mother adores you, friends cherish you, need I say more?” His eyes match his soul, dark and intense, yet they still seem to be so warm, inviting. It’s either that or his voice that draws you in. So soothing yet so deep. Like a calm ocean that holds many depth below.

“Not that kind of love. I want to be loved by a man. I want to feel that type of love I read in books and see in movies. The type of love my grandparents have. The type of love that won’t make me feel so alone anymore”

He chuckles a beautiful melody.

You always surprised him. The things you’d speak and dream of so bizarre yet so intriguing. Out of all the souls who begged for his help and all the humans he’s encountered, you’re the one that amused him most. A girl who asked and wished for so much, yet all she needed to do was look in the mirror and realise her worth, her power.

But he of all people knew that wishes were easy to slip from one’s lips. Words slide out of people’s mouths just as easy as a balloons string slips out of a child’s hand, so effortlessly. People are so careless when it comes to words. If only they knew the power it holds.

Wishes, prayers. They were all the same to him. It didn’t matter because they both had the same outcome, the same deal, the same promise, the same fate and the same desperation. The person was always begging and pleading in the end, too desperate to have their prayers answered to form a logical sentence, and to understand a twisted deal.

“You are not alone my love. I am here, I’ve always been here. I am the breeze that embraces you in the night, the darkness that lulls you to sleep. I am here. And you are loved.”

“You are not a man, even if you choose to be in this moment.” Your words are harsh, yes, but that’s what he loved about you. You were honest with him, you weren’t afraid.

“I can be the darkness of the night, a friend when you need company, I can be a man…”

When you make no move to respond to him, he rolls his eyes and sighs. “But before all of that I am a God. A God that answers wishes, say the words and I’ll give it to you, for a price”

This isn’t the first time he’s said this, and this isn’t the first time you’ve asked for something. But it always ends up with the same outcome, an offer of a sacrifice that you refuse. And then the whole interaction is swept away in the night, forgotten.

“Im not sacrificing my soul to you”

“My dear, you’ve called upon me countless of times, I’ve stayed by your side for years, you must know by now that you’re mine. I may not have your soul entirely, but yours is bound with mine, through shared memories and dreams, nights and years.”

“Don’t you get tired of chasing something that doesn’t belong to you? That will never be yours?”

“I have patience” is the only thing he says before he changes the subject back to your previous wish.

“I’d love to help you. You know I always do. But you should know by now that I can’t just give you that. I can’t just muster up a man for you that will make love to you. You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man, that I can’t do, but like I said, I can be a lot of things.”

His hand reaches out to touch your jaw, thumb caressing it. His touch light, smooth. And despite everything, you wish he would touch you more, so you lean into his touch.

“I can be a God, an Angel, a Devil, a Human. Whatever you’d like me to be, as long as I am yours and you are mine”

“That’s not the type of love I’m talking about” your voice is shaky, unsure of what you want. What you need.

“Oh isn’t it? All those nights you would touch yourself to images of me… where you would talk to yourself about wanting to be touched. Those days where you would listen to all your friends stories about being with another, being touched by another. You envy them. You want to be loved in a way that has your skin littered with goosebumps, chills running down your spine” his fingers brush along your collarbone and you feel a shiver come across your body.

You think back to the nights where you would dream of his fingers against your skin. Light, cool and delicate.

“You must know by now that your body is mine. Your mind, your heart, your soul. Stop wasting your time being stubborn and let me give you what you want. The love you hope for, a world where you’re happy, things go your way. I can give you all of that if you would just be mine”

You hate the fact that he’s partially right. You have dreamt about him and thought of many nights where he would lay you in bed and take you as his. It was one of your dark fantasies that you never spoke of, you couldn’t , not to him.

Just as much as you were, he was stubborn. And as a God that always gets his way, he hates being told no.

“I see you’re making it a habit of calling me yours. You may be a God, but I don’t belong to you. I won’t”

“Within due time”

You don’t say anything else, instead you focus on the stillness of the room. The way his presence is so strong, the way you feel relaxed around him.

“You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man? I can’t give that to you if you don’t sacrifice, but I can show you how to be loved, y/n. I can show you what it feels like to be touched” his hand brushes the side of your face. His eyes pouring into yours, if you didn’t know his games you would almost fall for his tricks. Almost.

“Is this how you get people to give you their souls? Is this one of your twisted games? I give you my body and you take my soul as a keepsake.” Your breath is shaky as his touch takes over your body, so intense, so wrong but so right.

“I don’t just want your soul y/n. I want your heart, I want your touch, I want your love and your word that you will be mine.”

“You aren’t capable of feeling those things. you’re n-“

“Not human, I know. You’ve told me many times” his fingers brush along your thigh. “But when you have lived amongst humans and dealt with them for as long as I have, you begin to understand real emotions. I’m more human than you’ll ever know ”

His lips brush along your earlobe. “Let me show you”

He lays you down on the bed, hovering over you.

“No man on earth can give you what I can give you. I’ll take their souls if they tried. I can give you the world, the luxury of never having to worry about anything. A life of happiness, a life of freedom. If only you would let me have you”

He spoke so much about making things happen. He could make things happen with the click of his finger. And you wondered if he ever manipulated you in anyway. And why he hasn’t so far. If he really wanted you like he said he does, then why doesn’t he use his power to get you?

He spoke so softly in your ear, his voice like a blanket of silk. You don’t realise that you have yet again leaned in to him. Drawn in by his words, the way he spoke them so effortlessly and so passionately.

“You have me, I’m here right now” you give up your fight and give in to what your body craves.

Your eyes flutter close as you let yourself escape in everything that is him.

Just like when you were a child, you use your imagination to create your own little world. Just you and him for the moment.

You’re lost in his earthy scent. The night sky drawn around you like a blanket, protecting you. A sense of freedom as you seep into the darkness of the night that is him. But when you open your eyes you see more than just the darkness. You see the stars in the night. His eyes mimicking the galaxy as he watches you with so much want.

There in that moment is when you realised how powerful he was. How powerful his words were, his presence was. And his touch…

His touch that had your body reacting in ways you never knew it could.

His touch light, like a cool embrace of the wind.

Except your skin is like the sun, setting your skin on fire as his hands caress your body. You hate that your body reacts so easily to his touch. But over anything else, you hate how he knows your body when you don’t even know it yourself.

He knows just where to touch you, just where you crave another’s touch.

Just where to touch to have the hairs on your body stand up. Eager for more.

His face is in the crook of your neck lightly running his lips along the service, just before he litters small pecks to it. He smells you, breathes you in, humming in the process.

“I’m so full of everything I can have in life, and yet I still crave you”

You shiver when he pauses just by your earlobe.

“What are you doing to me my love?”

You both lock eyes for a second, the world stopping in the moment that is just yours. You don’t answer him. He seems elated with just watching you anyways.

“You’ll let me have you?”

You hold your breath, unsure of what to say. Yes because you want him to take you here right now, but you know how sneaky he can be, you’re afraid that your words would be used against you.

When you make no move to speak, he smirks against your skin and whispers, “Smart girl, I’ve taught you well.”

He takes no time in playing with the lace of your panties. You feel wetness stick to the fabric, something that started once he laid his fingers on you.

He’s always been good with his fingers. One night he played you a song on your guitar, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. In this very moment you feel like an instrument. The way his fingers work on you, you creating sounds so melodic you don’t even recognise yourself. The way he holds you so gently as one would with their instrument. You’re not afraid when you’re with him. There’s no need to be when he holds and touches you so gently.

His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks to you. His fingers working inside of you making your back arch and toes curl. Your fingers grab your sheet, mind going crazy because you know you shouldn’t be doing this. This is crazy and it’s not like you at all. And with him?

“You’re so stubborn. Why won’t you be mine? Look how your body is reacting to me. The moment I made myself present, your breathing changed rhythm and heart increased pace. You don’t think I know how you feel?”

You release a pathetic moan. A desperate one that has you cringing with embarrassment because of how needy you sound.

He leans in towards the crook of your neck with a low, “hmm?”

You look away. Too embarrassed and too in awe at the way he’s making you feel - making you act.

“Look at me”.

You find the courage to look at him. His fingers that work inside of you have your pussy creating sounds you never knew it could. You take deep breaths, slight frown on your face as your body’s taken over by the pleasure.

“You’re so wet for me. So needy.”

He continues to watch you with half-lidded eyes. Taking in the moment. Taking in everything that is you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into it.

You’ve given yourself to him in this moment - not entirely as he had hoped, but having his way with you in this point in time is more than enough.

He takes you there on your bed. The same place you would speak to him every night, dream of him every occasion.

He’s gentle, careful. His motions precise, enough to have your breath stuck in your throat.

Your mind has been lost in the darkness that is him. You don’t even want to find it.

He’s hovered over you, your legs wrapped around him. Kisses given with each thrust.

He speaks beautiful words to you, hand caressing your face every now and then.

And in this moment you’re sure you’re making love. Even though you know it can’t be because you both know nothing of the sort, but this is exactly how it feels like.

You reach a hand out to him, brushing back his dark stringy locks that fall in front of his face.

He kisses you with so much passion, speaks to you with words that has your heart aching for more.

In this moment you almost give him your word. Your life, your soul. Your head clouded by this intense emotion, a feeling that you can’t grasp. He’s taken you to a whole different universe, mind lost in everything that is him.

You almost give him your word, almost.

And when he brings you to your climax you sink deeper into him, into his embarace. Letting your body infuse with his.

You both lay there in silence for a while until he voices, “Even if you deny it. I’ve given you my word that I’ll stick by your side. There’s no getting rid of me”

You don’t need to ask him about what he means.

You know.

His fingers caress your skin as you close your eyes, letting his words fill the air.

“A soul as beautiful and pure as yours is a soul to wait a lifetime for. And I’ve got a lot of time”

And when you open your eyes, you’re met with nothing but the darkness of your room.

The God who answers after dark ☆

- mimi ☆

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi

It's been brought to my attention that there are people out there who are sadly plagiarising my work again.

1. This is not okay.

To clarify, while I'm very happy for people to take inspiration from my stories (in the same way you might any book you read from a bookshop), I don't want my work used or reposted without credit.

I'm not going to go into lengths on why it is wrong to plagiarise someone else's writing. I don't think my tumblr post is magically going to change anyone's mind, especially as if you've followed me long enough you know we've done this rodeo before.

So.

2. How to tell when writing is plagiarised

It can be very difficult to tell when something is plagiarised, especially if we have never come across the original work before and have no reason to recognise it.

I don't think it's realistic for everyone to vet everything they come across online for plagiarism, but it's also something I don't see talked about a lot for fiction.

These questions to ask yourself are not foolproof and not applicable to everything. But I think they can be a start.

If the writer has posted more than one story, is there a similarity across them? While writing style can change across an author's different pieces, there is still usually going to be a similar feel across stories if they came from the same person. Writers have voices and quirks and little things that are specific to them. If every piece feels wildly different then it might be coming from different places. This is probably going to come down to gut reaction and instinct in the first instance. But that's okay. Because that gut reaction is just there to make you think twice and maybe investigate more thoroughly.

How much are they posting? Can people churn an extraordinary amount of words out? Yes, sometimes. But...as a general ballpark, no. Writing takes time and effort. If someone is coming out with enormous amounts of writing every day or week or month or whatever, then this can be a hint to look a little closer.

Do you ever see hints of their writing process? Can the writer talk about their characters or what they want out of the story or anything like that? Do they ever post a story organically in response to a request or whatever? Not all writers know in-depth everything about their story or characters or plot, but the main point here is that the finished product is the tip of the iceberg. If someone is a writer than there is more going on beneath the surface of the posted stories.

I hope this helps!

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dating Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warning/s: mdni, mentions of insecurities

a/n: i had a stressful week and this was just sitting in my drafts. this is just a collection of random thoughts i had bcs i'm soft for chan♡ 

(i'll probably do this for every member eventually)

Chan is such a sweetheart. Expect to be hugged and pulled into his lap all the freaking time. He needs to have his hands on you somehow no matter where you are or what you're doing. Chan will give you a back hug and then pull you into him, burying his face in your hair. He loves skinship like that especially with people who bring him comfort like you do.

Chan is the type of boyfriend who will always ask if you're hungry, thirsty or cold and if you need anything at all he will stop what he was doing and get it for you. He always wants you to feel comfortable.

He is also very playful and will tease you all the time. I also feel like he is that type of boyfriend that will swoop you up and put you over his shoulders all the damn time especially while you're doing something just to get a rise out of you. He will laugh cutely as you trash around and yell at him to 'put you down or else' but you both know you're laughing too.

You become so close to his mother and sister, and you and Hannah team up to tease him together. Berry also adores you and always runs to you whenever you visit. Chan will playfully pout and sulk, saying that 'his family replaced him' but he is actually so thrilled that you get along.

He daydreams a lot about your future together, imagines you two getting married and starting a family and it makes him all giddy and giggly. Some things he's too shy to say to you directly so he puts them in songs that he writes for you.

Chan will watch every movie and listen to every song you recommend him. He wants to know what you like and why you like it so send him cute songs and tell him that they made you think of him.

Late night adventures. Driving around aimlessly as you listen to music, getting something to eat from a convenience store or a gas station. He pulls up somewhere secluded where you have the perfect view of the city. You eat, talk and look at the stars together. Kisses are shared, hands are roaming and pretty soon you end up in the backseat of the car.

Chan will take you out to dinner, bring you flowers, take you out to the arcade, to an ice cream date, to the beach, everywhere and anywhere, he just wants you to have fun together. But he will also enjoy a quiet night at home, while he works on his laptop and you're cuddled up to him reading a book.

He always puts you first, your needs above his so you have to scold him when he tells you he forgot to eat dinner. You bring him food to the studio and he's happy to see you but sad that he made you upset. You tell him you'll forgive him if he eats everything you brought him and he happily will.

Arguments with Chan would probably mostly happen when he's sleep deprived because he gets snappy then. His voice raises a little (not on purpose) but as soon as he sees tears forming in your eyes he will start apologizing. You tell him you need a few moments and obviously he does too, so he leaves to another room to cool off a little. When he comes back out, you two sit down and talk it out. You never want to go to bed angry or without resolving a fight.

No matter if you live together or you're sleeping over at each other's places you can forget about personal space. When you go to bed at night, Chan will cling onto you, he will pull you into him and hold you tight. Good luck on trying to move until the morning. Showers together because why wouldn't you wanna save water?

Absolute gentleman. Will open doors for you, move your chair, help you put your jacket on, you'll never have to carry anything heavy. He knows you can do it but he just wants to treat you like the queen you are and you better indulge him or he will sulk.

Sometimes, Chan feels insecure and nothing can make him feel better than your arms around him, his head on your chest as you gently tell him about everything you love and admire about him. He's used to always being alert and taking care of others so he'd love for you to take care of him sometimes like that, baby him a little, it lights his heart up.

Little moments when he's concentrated on something or lost in his own little world always make you gush at him and your camera is full of his cute moments, when he realizes you're filming him, he gets shy and you capture his sweet smile and cute giggles.

This man will also never give you room to doubt yourself. He will remind you every single day how much he loves you and respects you. How beautiful you are to him, every single part of you, every scar, stretchmark, anything you're insecure about he'll give extra kisses and caresses to that part of you just so you start loving yourself more.

Back hugs. Back hugs. BACK HUGS. FOREHEAD KISSES. HAND HOLDING. THIGH SQUEEZING.

Make him sleep please! He needs to rest and often pulls all-nighters but if you offer him cuddles he can't say no, he has to join you in bed.

You wear matching bracelets!🥺 And they're ones that you make by yourselves with cute colorful beads and maybe your initials and it's just so adorable!

Random cuteness agression moments where Chan can't contain all the love he has for you so he attacks you with kisses all over your face. You squeal and you both end up giggling and play-fighting. Will also tickle you every chance he gets. You're never safe from Chan the tickle monster. (He just loves touching you and loves seeing you laugh, deal with it.)

Okay but your mom will love him so much. He's the type of boyfriend that will treat your mom like his own. Anything she needs help with, he will help no questions asked. She's already calling him her son-in-law.

You need help fixing something around the house? Chan is your man. Just imagine those arms of his as he's working on something, wearing just a tanktop. (😩)

You can talk to him about anything really, he loves to listen to you ramble about your friends or work, sometimes he starts teasing you in the middle of your rambling, repeating what you're saying or reacting dramatically. You smack his thigh or arm and whine that he's not taking it seriously. He just laughs at you and promises to listen seriously with a goofy face.

But when it comes to actual serious issues, you can really rely on Chan. He will hold your hand and caress you as you tell him your worries. He'll listen without interrupting, letting you vent to him. When you're done he will do everything he can to comfort you, motivate you, make you feel better, help you get through whatever you're struggling with.

Talks about you all the time, he's so proud to be yours and he's just infatuated with you. Giggles to himself when he thinks about you. He just adores you so much.

[bogleech]

Could I mayhaps know what's the name of that arachnid field guide you have 0//0 it looks really pretty and I have. A thirst for all arachnid related field guides and biology books, love those critters

The Golden Guide to Spiders and their Kin! There were lots of them, originally made in the 60's or 70's I believe, and they used to still be so common when I was a kid - still in print, and sold for just a couple dollars everywhere - I thought everybody had a few! But now they seem to be forgotten.

I had the spiders one, insects one and "seashores" one (mantis shrimps and nudibranchs!!) before I could even read, just looking at the pictures all day. As I learned to read they were how I learned concepts of taxonomy and ecology, why I knew what a "parasitoid" was in first grade and I'd talk constantly about insects that aren't really RARE, but culturally most people never heard about. These books made things like velvet ants, bolas spiders and hairy millipedes seem to me like knowledge as ordinary as dogs and cats.

That "pests of animals" page in particular is why I knew there were wingless parasitic flies, and I thought that was so cool, I was obsessed with "SHEEP KED" for my entire childhood. This bug that nobody ever heard of when I mentioned it, but was at one time deemed worthy of inclusion in an everyday field guide. And they include "duck louse" as an animal pest you're expected to encounter. Sheep and duck parasites?!.....Oh, right! When these books first published, it was still commonplace for almost everyone to have experience with farm animals. Most people at least had grandparents or aunts and uncles with a farm they might visit and help out on. Of course they would encounter sheep and duck parasites. I think they still publish these, actually, I'm sure I still saw them in Barnes and Noble only a few years ago, but it's remarkable what a different America they were made under. My old copy even recommended DDT to control bed bugs....they did eventually edit that out in newer editions.

Some of their attitudes may be outdated here and there, and they're only intended for North American wildlife, but I think the golden guides might still be perfect introductions to their topics for anyone, anywhere of any age really?? They're such well-balanced overviews so densely packed with just the most essential information about each organism.

....Did people really ever just call tree frogs "hylas?!" It's one of their genus names, but was it also used as a common name anywhere? That's a cute idea. Maybe it was, briefly, so at some point to someone there was a concept of Frog, Toad, and Hyla?

[ludicdoll]

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: american reader, smoking, soft farleigh, very slight angst, fluff

synopsis: you and farleigh smoke under the sunset, reminiscing on your exciting summer.

a/n: go listen to weak for your love by thee sacred souls nowww

you sigh against the warm breeze, staring up into the golden sky. your summer was coming to an end, which means you would have to leave saltburn, which means you would have to go back home to america. you thought you wouldn’t care when summer ended, in fact you were excited to go back home—but now everything’s changed. your summer started out with felix inviting you after the graduation party. he said “everyone will miss you if you leave so early.” he was definitely just trying to make you feel better, but you caved in on his offer anyway. on the first day you arrived at the estate, elspeth almost immediately claimed you as one of her own children.

she was a very sincere woman, her blonde hair was always pinned up to frame her classic face, and her clothes always reflected her wealth. you were so intimidated by the catton’s at first, but as you got to know them better, you realized they’re quite normal. sure—the family heirloom art pieces on the walls and their 200 acres of land weren’t normal, but on the surface of their personalities, they were just average people who happened to be blessed with money. during your stay at the mansion, you found yourself talking to farleigh more often. at oxford you and farleigh never talked much, only sharing occasional glances from across lecture halls. you shared the same friend group with him due to felix and got along surprisingly well.

you both had witty personalities, a stubborn flare, and incredible fashion tastes. you recall your first real conversation with farleigh. it was on your first night at saltburn during dinner. you were seated next to him and gossiped the whole time about annabel and felix’s situationship. you laughed and smiled at his words and he seemed to be feeling just as amused as you were. now and then you would have your petty, harmless arguments, but nothing too extreme. in the midst of all of the catton’s chaos, you and farleigh found peace in each other. slowly, he even opened up a little to you. he talked about his mom, claiming that he was scared that if he left england, he would never get an ounce of money again. you pitied him truthfully. however, he was also incredibly smart, he just never bothered to show it.

farleigh also loved literature, he would roll his eyes at you whenever you’d call him a nerd but he enjoyed classics, drama, mysteries, romance, almost everything and anything. you would think that him living a chaotic, party filled lifestyle meant that he never had any time to pick up on any other hobbies or interests, but he did. he learned french and was surprisingly good at it, he didn’t speak it fluently—but he knew enough to hold up a conversation with someone random.

you sit in your window nook, closing your book and placing down on the cushion, staring out of the cracked window as you ash your cigarette out of the open panes. it’s mid september, the weather was slightly cool, but the humidity from the light rain earlier had made it slightly warmer. you raise your fingers to you mouth, dragging out the smoke from your cigarette. you lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes as you breathe in the air around you. suddenly, you’re awoken by a knock on your door. “come in!” you call out as a head of curls poke through the door. farleigh smiles before closing the door behind him and walking over to you. he’s wearing a dark navy ralph lauren cable knit sweater (very fitting for him) and black trousers. he looked like he just got back home from something. “having your main character moment, i see?” he teases as he sits down across from you in the nook. you roll your eyes, softly shaking your head with a laugh. he grins, looking down at the book in your lap.

farleigh reaches over, grabbing it before reading the title outloud. “one hundred years of solitude,” he repeats. “how are you just now reading this?” you snatch the book out of his hand before placing it back down next to you. “oh, i’m sorry i’m not a nerd like you.” you reply mockingly. farleigh gives you a deadpan expression before cocking his head to the side, staring at you with low eyes. he readjusts himself in the cushion, scooting closer to the where his legs were touching yours. “venetia won’t be able to shut up when you leave.” he mutters. you turn, smiling weakly. you’ll miss her too, you’ll miss everyone when you’re gone. the two of you sit in silence for a minute, soaking in the beautiful shift in colors within the sky. you pull a cigarette out of its box next to you, offering it to him. he stares at you, almost like he was hesitating to take it or not. of course, he couldn’t decline so he swiftly took it out of your fingers.

you grab your lighter and ignite the flame by his lips. he immediately groans quietly, a wave of relief glowing across his face. “where were you all day?” you ask. “you just disappeared during brunch.” farleigh blows a thin line of smoke out of his mouth, shrugging. “the pub.” he looks over your empty room, biting down on his bottom lip. you used to have so many posters and polaroids littered across your walls, but you had already packed all of your stuff—leaving the room blank. “god, it’s so boring in here now.” he says. his breath suddenly hitches when he sees your suitcase in the corner of the room, packed and ready for your leave. you notice this and reach over to touch his shoulder.

in an attempt to lighten the mood, you rub at his arm. “aw, you gonna miss me, far?” you ask with an exaggerated sad face. farleigh scoffs, chuckling softly at your expression. “mmm, don’t get ahead of yourself.” you giggle, turning your head to look at the sky above you. you had made so many memories here, so many friends you wouldn’t be able to replace back in the states. a part of you wished you could stay in england, but another part of you missed your home. “do you remember the first time we met?” farleigh breaks the silence suddenly. you glance over at him, raising a brow. “it was at felix’s acceptance party. you showed up wearing a bold silver sequin skirt, very bold.” you cringe as you recall your odd fashion choices in your first year at oxford.

“oh god, don’t remind me.” you cry out as you pinch your nose bridge with a defeated sigh. farleigh laughs, exhaling the smoke out of the window. “truly … it was definitely the talk of the night.” he adds on to make you wince further. you raise a hand, waving it in front of him, hoping he’d stop talking. “but—i liked your outfit that night. i thought that you had to be interesting if you were wearing that.”

“really?” you ask. he nods, a smirk dancing on his lips. you sit up, leaning closer to him. you stare up at farleigh through your lashes, cocking your head to the side. “and was i interesting?”

farleigh seems to get a rise out of this sudden confidence from you. he leans down closer as well, just inches away from your face. “mhm,” he hums as he raises his cigarette back up to his mouth. you can’t help but stare at his pink lips as he takes a long drag. the two of you exchange quiet glances, a thick tension rising in the air. “whatever shall i do without you?” he teases as he leans back on his palm. “well, i’m not leaving until tomorrow morning.” you glance over at the grand clock in the corner of the room before turning back to meet farleigh’s gaze. “—we still have a couple more hours together.”

“yea? it’s not enough.” he muttered the last part quietly, but loud enough for you to dicipher. farleigh looked so soft under the sunset, the rays of pink light illuminating his face perfectly. your stomach suddenly flips, a wave of heat spreading to your face. he looked almost angelic in a way. you never thought about your right dynamic with farleigh. others around you would often say you and farleigh were close, maybe a little too close. you liked sitting in his lap and he liked holding you, not like it was im a sexual manner, you just genuinely enjoyed his touch. it was purely platonic to you from the start. but as you spent more time with him, you realized his demeanor would get you a nervous mess at times.

you thought you didn’t like farleigh, but the fuzzy feeling that would overtake you would make you squirm under his stare. it made you feel like you were twelve again with your first crush. “maybe we could just spend the next few hours talking.” farleigh says. you blink, examining in his soft features. the longer you stared, the more you’d notice certain aspects of him face you never acknowledged before—like how he had very faint fading freckles in the summer, or that one curl that would fall on his forehead perfectly. you nod in response to his suggestion before leaning back to your original position. for the next two hours, you and farleigh just sit there, rambling on about everything you could think of. your conversation ranged from shit talking to philosophy, then to the planets orbiting around us. you talked so long to the point where the sun started to set, slowly dipping below the horizon with a burst of pinks and oranges. you grab at his arm, gasping quietly as you gaze up at the sky. “look!” you point out. he raises a brow, glancing back and forth between you and the sunset. “what?”

“the sky!” you say in an obvious tone. “happens everyday, nothing new.” he says nonchalantly as he releases himself from your grip, resting his head against the window. you groan, smacking his arm with the back of your hand. “okay, well it’s my last sunset in england.” you turn your body fully so it’s facing the window, legs crossed underneath you as you put out your cigarette. you feel the cushions slowly sink when farleigh scoots closer. he places his head on your shoulder, sighing quietly. “m’gonna miss you.” his voice is low, rough but smooth at the same time. you tilt your head to look at him, giggling at his sudden honesty. “i’m serious,” farleigh picks his head back up from your shoulder, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

his eyes flicker back and forth from your eyes to your lips, his face show a look of contemplation. for a moment, you wish he would come back to america with you. the thought of him living with you didn’t bother you. in fact, it sounded perfect. he was a genuine person—and yes, he was a bitch but he was truthful and sweet when he wanted to be. “i wish i could stay longer.” you whisper. farleigh trails his thumb up to your bottom lip, tilting closer to you. “you could,” he says. you laugh awkwardly, “i’m sure the catton’s are sick of me though.”

“i’m not.”

you stare up at him, his dark eyes boring into yours. he looks so vulnerable right now, so calm and content. it was a rare occurrence if you saw farleigh not gushing out insults left and right. his voice made you shiver, goosebumps lining your skin with each syllable that left his pretty mouth. “i—i don’t want you to go.” farleigh stutters out with a soft sigh in a way that sounded like it was ashamed of admitting it. before you could respond, his lips crash onto yours. his pace is frantic at first then it softens, kisses delicate and slow. farleigh’s hand on your jaw trails around to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, pulling him close to your body. you could feel his warmth radiating off of yours, it was so sudden. you never expected to be making out with the farleigh start. there’s so many things running through your mind, but they all vanish into clouds as you melt against his soft lips. your stomach flutters rapidly, a slight buzz rising to your head. he grins into the kiss, a shitfaced grin at that. farleigh slips his tongue in your mouth, the subtle taste of liquor on him.

“far—” you whimper through labored breathing. he slows, pulling away from the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. his hand falters from the back of your head to your neck. “fuck, you don’t understand what you do to me.” you crane up, looking at him with doe eyes. “please stay. just for a little while.” he begs, brows furrowed with worry as he laces his fingers into yours. you swallow, glancing over at the packed suitcase on the floor. you peer back up at farleigh, a small smile tugging on your lips. “please.” he repeats.

“okay,” you breathe out, “i’ll stay for a little longer.”

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

[sorenphelps]

i was thinking about life in Azkaban, like how does it work? Who prepares meals? Basic hygene requirements are ensured how? Is it like a regular muggle prison just with dementors as guards? Are there any human staff working there? Every cell is for 1 person only or some are for multiple people? Are witches and wizards separated? Can inmates have stuff like a book? I have so many questions, like if it’s just a bunch of cells with dementors only as staff, being there for someone who could remain more or less sane, it must have been extra boring?…

ANYWAYS thats how i got the idea for this pic, and also because Sirius is canonically very good with all sort of animals, i thought why not give him a crow friend that he helped one day when the poor bird ended up in his cell during a very intense storm or sth… and as crows are very smart and have a good memory, maybe it kept going back to Sirius with various garbage as gifts (eg muggle chocolate cover papers or some berries, whatever). It is absolutely plausible that Buckbeak trusted Sirius right away without demanding a bow first, because crows also like to gossip and they might have told stories about him to other birds/animals so he is like the definition of a persona grata for them (bonus points for being a dog sometimes so he can actually talk to them too)

[timkontheunsure]

Some of the reasons I think Stolas is on the spectrum

(finally getting around to popping this on up too).

He has special interests & misses social cues while being happy in them.

It not really normal to be happy reading legal documents when someone's life is on the line. But Stolas is just vibing that he gets to help with his love of words. Yay him!

Stims

He stims when both happy & sad to help regulate his emotions.

His happy stims are:

*clapping when he gets to take Via to the circus, because he thinks they can enjoy it together.

He also does this with contract reading.

*He hopps up and down when his dad gives him a new books. Also when getting ready for his date with Blitz. He's just so happy he needs to hop.

His sad stims:

*are bang his head again and again about the engagement.

*He self sooves with chest strokes when Blitz says his outfit is too much.

*He hand rubs and wringing his hat when worrying about Via in LA.

Special interests

The there's that Stolas info dumps on the playdate with Blitz all about his books and about plants.

Stolas also feels he has to explain why Blitz horse joke was soo funny. And why's it so funny?

Because it's accurate. I love his little cutie.

But he's also kept up his love of plants as a major hobby now he's an adult. When most people tend to swap interests as they age.

Side bar

His comfy resting hand position is t rex hands. This tends to be an autistic thing. Also works well as an owl.

Sensory issues

Stolas appears to also have some sensory issues too. When his a child he appears to be struggling when Mr Butler touches his hair out of nowhere.

But he's fine with Blitz doing it when they're kissing. This shows a lot of trust between them.

I think it's likely sensory issues are the reason why he swaps into his comfy, very old robe, as often as he can too.

Specific communication issues

While Stolas is very good at some communication styles, he's pretty bad at others.

When the audience think it's another joke about wanting to keep a puppy; he immediately knows Blitz's is panicking the studio. And tries to get to him.

However he doesn't get that his dirty talk is way OTT, because he's mostly likely coping it from the erotica. Not lived experience.

Speaking of erotica.

There's obviously a rule that reading is allowed at the diner table. But Stolas doesn't get This book isn't appropriate to read there.

Another rule he appears to follow more rigidly than most probably would; is that when you get an appointment you wait till you're seen.

Ozzie's ment to met Stolas at noon, but doesn't make it till 4 pm because of problems with work.

Stolas is only a couple of days out of the hospital and is probably feeling horrible.

But he sticks around a minimum of 4 hours to be seen, because he feels he has to.

(I'm assuming he also got taught you turn up earlier rule, but this just a guess).

Stolas genuinely wants to do something Via will enjoy, and he's fine taking Via to stylish occult when she asks.

But didn't get it till she's crying and sad that she wasn't enjoying Loo Loo Land.

"I take it you are.. not having fun." She needs to spell it out. Sarcasm isn't easy for him to interrupt.

His was obviously thought taking his daughter and his lover out to a theme park would be a good way to introduce them.

It's the sort of plot that only works on a novellas. And that's probably when he got it from. (Probably worked great for Gabrielle and Alejandro).

These are examples of him Masking, and not understanding why it didn't work.

Stella's being dangerous to be around = take Via out somewhere for her to have fun to blow off steam.

Wanting your lover and daughter to like eachother = ask IMP to tag along as the completely unnecessary bodyguards.

He doesn't really get that flirty with his affair partner, in front of his kid while going through a divorce isn't a good idea...

He also struggles to understand when his flirting comes off as condescending too. With "ittybity imps like you" or calling him Blitzy in public. He's most likely him coping language from other goeita.

But Stolas is very good at knowing when knowing when Blitz is fine being picked up, when to reassure him with face stokes, or how to calm Blitz down from a panic attack in just a few seconds.

So it's not that he's just never learnt these skills. It's just that some communication skills are harder for him than others.

But if you disagree that fine. 🙂 I just wanted to put down some of my thoughts why I think he could be.

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[maraudersmyloves]

i’m a slut for the “he says something bad about someone else but you think it’s about you” trope.

soooo, do you think you could write something like that with james. and like he doesn’t know why you seem to be mad at him and why you’re kinda pulling away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: James potter x reader

Warnings: cursing, some angst

Word count: 745

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Disclaimer 2: A part two is planned and currently being written but I wanted to get this out quickly so I hope you understand that I broke it up into two parts

Sypnosis: You overhear the marauders talking and assume it's about you, causing you to distance yourself from a perplexed James.

"Distance". :☆｡ﾟ. ────

you jump down the stairs to the common room, following the familiar voice of your boyfriend. He's laughing with the other marauders and you are about to join them on the couches when Sirius groans in annoyance, "She's just always clinging to you, mate. It's annoying."

You freeze as you watch James' face screw up in embarrassment. He sighs and lets his head fall back while covering his eyes, "I know but I feel bad. She doesn't really have anyone else."

Your mind races trying to find excuses. Maybe he's talking about someone else. But, who? You don't know all of his Friends it could be anyone. But the description fits, doesn't it? Clingy? Desperate? He's always hugging and kissing you, no way he doesn't want you to do the same. He just feels bad.

You feel hot tears hit your cheek and quickly turn around to run back to your dorm. Before you can drone them out completely, you hear Peter pipe up. "I know, but she's started to hang out with me too. It's getting a lot and I tried to be nice but she talks so much."

Oh.

Even Peter hates you.

You didn't think Sirius liked you anyway and of course James hurt but Peter? He was so nice and accepting of your quiet nature, gardening, and playing chess with you. You misinterpreted it all wrong, once again.

All around you, students are talking and playing stupid games. Now, that it's gotten warmer every fucking student felt the need to hang out outside. But can you really judge when you're doing the same?

Yes!! Because you're not screaming and jumping around with your oh-so-great friend group. You're just sitting under a tree trying to read. The sun is glaring on the page, the wind is blowing your hair in your face and 49 different people are talking way too loud around you.

It's fucking annoying and now James is approaching too. Fucking traitor. He lets himself fall down next to you, spreading out his Limbs to take up as much space as he possibly can. He stays that way for a few seconds before he shifts to lie next to you. "hey, love." You ignore him and the way your skin tingles when he shifts closer to gain some skin contact.

He pouts when you don't answer, expecting you to be focused on the book. In reality, you haven't been able to focus and read a single word for at least ten minutes. He pokes your cheek in a way you'd usually find cute, but now it only makes your mind clouded with questions. Why is he doing this?

He sighs when you still don't give him the attention he craves, "Watcha reading," he asks stretching out the last word in a sweet song-like tone. "A book," you answer flatly before abruptly standing up.

He looks up at you with something you could only describe as puppy eyes and asks where you're going as if you hurt him deeply. "My dorm," you answer. It's short without any explanations or elaborations.

You turn around to leave, not seeing James' hurt look. He quickly jumps up again to follow you, grabbing you by the arm. "Where are you going," he questions with his eyebrows creased in worry and lips tight together.

You gently pull away your arm, not wanting to seem too angry with him. It's not his fault you're so annoying. "I just want to be alone right now," you say quietly. You can't bear to meet his dark and desperate eyes, he looks too sad. You know better that to believe it.

James takes a step back, wanting to respect your boundaries even if the lost proximity makes him want to tear off his skin. "Oh, okay."

"Sorry."

James flops down onto his bed with a groan. He bangs his head against the pillow a few times, too. For good measure. What did he do? Did he make you uncomfortable? Merlin, he hopes he didn't.

Maybe you stopped loving him and felt too bad to tell him. No, no, no. He can't think about that for long or he'll start crying. What did he do to lose you? Then again, he never deserved you in the first place. Not your kind eyes or lovely smile. You represented love, so why would you need his when you've got plenty oozing out of you at all times.

You're perfect and he lost you.

[ludinusdaleth]

bouncing off of this wonderful post mentioning how zathuda expects to be the main character because he would be in many current stories, as well as my own thoughts about fearne & her family ive had for a while: i think it is interesting how fearne is representative of the different ways folk portray fae in modern media.

first off, id like to note how many fae in cr feel like they are an homage to fae stories embedded in our cultural consciousness. for example, artagan was most definitely based off of jareth in labyrinth, and his moniker of the traveler may be an homage to the fable of the satyr & the traveller. so, what is fearne?

one of the first 4-sided dives featured ashley & matt discussing how they based fearne's story off of a guillermo del toro flick - and this definitely clicked to me. morrigan, ira, & all her bizarre animal friends at morri's mansion would fit so easily into a del toro film you wouldn't even blink at them. in del toro's work (namely pan's labyrinth & hellboy 2: the golden army) faeries are fundamentally strange, offputting, & wonderfully weird. they are goblins with wagons as legs, and trolls with talking tumors, and terrifyingly skinny entities with eyes in their hands that eat children. you can practically see doug jones in an intricate suit & makeup to play ira like he did the pale man or the faun (i swear matt's hand usage as ira is an homage to jones's iconic hands in costume), see the puppet of morrigan that weighs over a ton controlled by five folk at once. del toro's work as well as matt & ashley's plays into a fae that is more complicated than a human imagines at face value, something you must work to imagine & understand (& create). something playful, integrally bound to oaths, ancient, mischievous. it is happy & natural to be gross & incomprehensible and that is part of what makes these films (as well as other bizarre puppeteered dreamscapes like the dark crystal, labyrinth) almost comforting even when sad. pan's labyrinth also features a young girl as a protagonist, ofelia, who sees these creatures as respite & destiny, who is a fae princess amidst mortal war. fearne couldn't be more ofelia if she tried. (side note - god does the scene of the pale man eating the pixies in front of ofelia feel like fearne learning what lud does to her people. someone even made a meme of it.)

on the other hand, zathuda & birdie's story is obviously based on a fae romance novel that populates shelves today - sarah j maas's or holly black's work comes to mind. zathuda is (or was - he seems a ghost of it) clearly a looker, a fierce & sexy hunter, a handsome & strong unseelie royal who somehow takes in & courts a random nobody girl, birdie. but cr notably frames the love story narrative as a classist manipulation, that leaves birdie running for the rest of her life, falling for a weirdo nobody like her over zathuda, and leaves fearne without parents that would show her this incredibly popular kind of romance as an answer. she cannot fall back on a family of kisses drawing blood, of hunter & hunted as a beautiful meet-cute, of a throne & power. she can only fall back on the strange, the grotesque, the raw. they are ugly compared to a promise of a masquerade ball or leading a wild hunt, what folk expect of fae in a barnes & noble book haul - but they promise a safety in the outcast. because a guillermo del toro film will always fundamentally be about the human condition. "monsters are the patron saints of our blissful imperfections." every monster in his stories is a person as much as you or me is.

fearne was born of a fae romance novel but raised in a puppeteer-and-vfx fairytale film. she holds not only exandria's fate in her hands, but the feywild's, too. fae see themselves as higher beings while squabbling in courts as much as mortals do. they refuse to accept their chaos and try to maintain order & royalty with courts and bloodlines against each other. try to keep fae out of exandria because they cant know they are alike to their mortal counterparts. they cant be wild like a party of puppets at the end of labyrinth dancing with the human girl sarah. they wish to be as mysterious as if they lived in a ya dystopia. and it is clearly leaving them worse. fearne is the literal unity of all the ways fae are potrayed in a modern landscape. what will that mean for her and her home in the end?

[kifkay]

Winx and their Favourite Literary Tropes

Bloom: Found Family. The girl is queer, most likely a fan fiction enjoyer, if not a writer, and has been bullied. She is THE target demographic for this trope.

(plus, she literally went on and created her very own family of Winx)

Musa: Other than the very obvious choice of Your Crush is Mean to Everyone but You (ahem, ahem, Riven), Musa would love the Soulmates trope. It’s very comforting, to believe that there exists a person cosmically tied to you — someone who will have to love you, in spite of your flaws and hurts. Belong to you fully.

Aisha: although Aisha is usually a very calm and compassionate person, I think she would find Revenge narratives cathartic. Let the girlie read about a vengeful princess cutting down her past abusers, she deserves it!

Stella: definitely a romance girlie. I could see her either obsessing over a litany of romantic cliches (Prince in Shining Armour, only One Bed, nursing each other’s wounds (but only in theory, blood is disgusting), forced proximity, enemies to lovers, etc) OR hating them all due to how predictable they are. BUT she would definitely despise any toxic romance tropes Musa seems to love: the Mafia ones, the sunshine x grumpy, the “he’s cold but actually cares”. If both people are not whole-heartedly into each other, she’s not into it.

Flora: she is definitely a fantasy girlie (what is even fantasy for the society of Magix?). Particularly, she loves world-building and lore, brimming with their own unique biomes and freaky little creatures. She also likes Anti-Heroes or Misunderstood Villains. They play on all of her emotional strings.

Tecna: contrary to what you may expect, I don’t think Tecna would like sci-fi very much. What is sci-fi to the majority of the universe, to Zenith is reality. She would most likely find fantastical elements of these books cheesy or over-the-top. Tecna would like Heists: dynamic, fast-paced, high stakes. Puzzle pieces coming together to form a brilliant plan, complete with witty banter and colourful characters.

(I also think she would like Dysfunctional Families. Her parents interacted with her only when necessary; she was an only child. She would be fascinated by messy and tragic interactions between people who should walk away, but just can’t part with each other.)

some other characters I thought of:

Roxy: Supernatural, Talking Animal Companion.

Brandon: Hopelessly Devoted, Mutual Pining, Martyr.

Sky: Reverse Damsel in Distress/Distressed Dude? (the heroine saves his captured ass; he’s into girls that can snap him in half).

Nabu: the Chosen One, the Robin Hood, switch-and-bait.

Helia: long journeys as metaphors for a soul search; tending to the other person’s wounds; cosmic or eldritch horror.

Riven: the Princess and the Peasant, Hero saves the Day, Grumpy Mentor who cares.

Timmy: the Headquarters, Secret World, outsmarting your enemies.

Mirta: a fellow enjoyer of Doomed by the narrative, bonus points if it’s sapphic.

[dark-frosted-heart]

I Love You, I've Sinned - Azel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

One day during my stay in Tanzanite, I wound up becoming a servant to God—

Emma: Prince Azel…Is it true that you deliver divine punishment to people?

When I asked Prince Azel about this after handing him something he had me fetch for him in town, rather than giving me his usual smile, he scowled. 

Azel: What did you see while out in town?

Emma: There was theft in the market today. The criminal was immediately captured by a passerby—

~~ Flashback ~~

Male onlooker: How dare you…Never did I expect that there would be such a ruckus in God’s own land.

Female onlooker: You will face divine punishment. Our Living God will not forgive you.

~~ Flashback end~~ 

Emma: —It seemed like everyone, the thieves included, feared “divine punishment”.

Azel: Absurd.

Emma: Have you ever threatened people across the country in the past?

Azel: That slander deserves some reparations.

Emma: I can’t say anything at all can I…

Azel: Don’t talk nonsense unless you want to experience divine punishment for yourself.

Emma: Ah, so divine punishment does exist.

Azel: Who knows?

After checking what he had me get for him, Prince Azel placed the jute bag in a corner of the crumbling ruins.

The temple which was supposed to be the Living God’s home, was as shabby as ever.

(Prince Azel’s a two-faced god, so it’d be scary if he actually did deliver divine punishment…)

Azel: Have you ever sinned?

Seems like Prince Azel’s in a good mood if he’s continuing the conversation even though he said not to talk about nonsense.

Emma: Probably…not

Azel: You’re lying.

Emma: Why do you say so?

Azel: Because no humans are without sin.

Emma: …Wouldn’t that mean everyone’s been imprisoned before?

Azel: Has anyone ever told you how empty your head is?

Emma: This is the first.

Azel: Have you never been exposed as an idiot before?

(You have a response for everything…)

Prince Azel leaned against a wall in the shade.

I followed suit and took a sip of water out of my flask.

Azel: Only acts that violate the law aren’t sins. Sins are actions that deserve God’s divine punishment.

Emma: So only God has control?

Azel: Is that so bad?

Emma: …No.

Azel: Simply put, anything you think you’re guilty of is a sin. Surely you’ve also been guilty of something to some extent. Whether it’s telling small lies, hiding things from others, or doing something to hurt someone unintentionally… As long as you’re alive, it’s hard to avoid them.

Emma: Well when you put it that way.

(Then, looking back, I probably have too)

(Sins that I need to apologize for…)

Azel: Confess your sins to God, and through receiving divine punishment, all will be forgiven. Perhaps that’s why people seek God…How laughable.

(Hm?)

Mysterious, starry eyes look at the flask in my hand.

Emma: …I’m not giving it to you?

Azel: Stingy.

Emma: I don’t want to hear that from a greedy god.

Azel [polite]: Ahhh, then at this rate I will dry up and die.

Emma: …

Azel [polite]: For a human to treat a god so cruelly…That’s god abuse.

Emma: …

Azel [polite]: God abuse is a felony and the charges cannot be compared to any that has existed to this point—

Emma: OKAY! Then in exchange for the water, please forget that the reparations demanded earlier ever existed.

Azel [polite]: Of course. Thank you very much.

(Can’t believe you put on the god act in times like this…)

When I handed Prince Azel the flask, he started drinking immediately.

(I don’t mind giving him water, but…does Prince Azel care at all?)

Feeling restless somehow, I turned my gaze away from the mysterious god and toward the ruins.

(...)

(If god abuse is a sin, then…)

(There’s one guilty sin I remember)

--

—That night.

When I came to, I found myself in place with half-bloomed roses.

(I’m here again…)

The usual dream in the usual place, but today, there was something unusual.

At the end of the countless paths stood a figure.

That person sat improperly on the oak table where a book usually was, and as I walked down the path, he turned from the large full moon in the sky toward me.

Azel: We ran into each other in a dream? …Give me a break.

Emma: That’s my line. It’s not like I enjoy running into you either.

(I heard that dreams have some deep psychological meaning, but…)

(I wonder if seeing Prince Azel means he’s occupying my mind that much)

(...That being a good or bad thing’s another story)

Azel sat on the table with one knee up and looked down at me cheekily.

It was like the dream world enhanced his mysterious, inhuman appearance.

Emma: …You’re not here to deliver divine punishment, are you?

Azel: If you’re feeling guilty then maybe.

Emma: …

Azel: You are.

Emma: Who knows…

Azel: Sins are forgiven when you confess. It’s easier to let it out than to suffer in distress, that’s just how it is.

Emma: …

Azel: Say it, then. If you seriously ask for forgiveness, then I’ll deliver divine punishment to you. …It’s not a free service though.

(That’s why he’s so oddly assertive)

Emma: Nevermind then.

Azel: No, ask for forgiveness. Or else this dream won’t end.

Emma: That’s a threat!

Azel: Talking back to God like that’s asking for more to be added on to what you owe.

(...If Prince Azel wasn’t a real god, then I could ignore him)

Tanzanite’s living god was a true god, recognized and revered as sacred throughout the continent.

Even if the face he showed me was different from the face he showed the public, I wouldn’t dare to ignore God’s word.

Emma: …Will you listen without getting angry?

Azel: That depends.

Emma: To tell you the truth… The other day, I saw you taking a nap. Even when I got closer, you didn’t wake up, so… …Out of curiosity, I played with your beautiful, silver hair.

Azel: …

Emma: I’m so sorry! But it felt really nice to touch!

Azel: That’s a grave sin.

When I tried to run away, Prince Azel lept off the table and stopped me with a hand on my shoulder before jabbing my cheek.

Emma: Please stop! The jabbing really feels like you’re going to hollow my cheeks out!

Azel: Accept your punishment. I noticed your eccentric behavior though.

Emma: Then why didn’t you wake up?

Azel: I wasn’t in the mood to entertain you.

(A very Prince Azel-like reason)

When he finally released me, I rubbed my cheek.

(Even though I suffered…my heart definitely feels lighter)

(I can’t let him off easy…)

Emma: Have you ever sinned, Prince Azel?

When I asked the question in retaliation, he shrugged in exasperation.

Azel: How could a god sin?

Emma: At it again…

Azel: If there’s no one to punish it, then it’s not a sin. If neither man nor god can punish me, then no one can punish me for my sins.

Emma: …

Azel: Perhaps one day God will commit a mortal sin. When that time comes…I wonder who will sit on the Throne of God and punish me.

Prince Azel’s mutterings melted into the dream space.

(That…doesn’t sound like a joke…)

Emma: Leave it to me. If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.

As if to dispel the mysterious aura around the god, I made a proud declaration.

Emma: I hope your cheeks will be able to stand it.

Azel: That doesn’t sound like a big punishment to me.

Emma: Stay complacent while you can. I have a mean slap.

Azel: …No one’s asking you to slap me.

Emma: If it doesn’t hurt, then it’s not a punishment worthy of being divine punishment.

When I pretended to slap him, Prince Azel smiled condescendingly. 

However, there didn’t appear to be any ill intentions behind the smile.

Azel: If God were to sin, then it would be a sin on a different level from humans. Possibly enough to wipe out an entire country. Punish that sin if you can…Actually you might do that.

Prince Azel looked up at the glittering moon in the dream world.

I still wasn’t sure about the meaning behind that melancholic look on his profile.

[fragileheartbeats]

I think most of you guys don't understand how sad it is to be both a Rhaenyra and Aegon fan at the same time and watch as HBO ruin both of them.

This story wasn't about who was good and who was evil.

It was about a queen who wanted the power but she couldn't control it and then lost it with her everything.

It was about a king who accepted the crown so he can protect his family but all of them died before his eyes and when he took it back there was no one with him but his shadow.

Both their stories are so tragedic and both of them are humans.

They aren't good, but they aren't pure evil either. They are just humans who lost everything that was dear to them.

That's the beauty of their story but yet the show fucking ruined it.

They ruined both of them and when I say my opinion about it people just attack me.

Like Rhaenyra holding a sword or fighting during the dance is so stupid to me and people just call me misogynist because I think it's just ruin her character.

When I say Aegon never forced himself on someone and he didn't watched as his bastards die people just call me a rape defender.

When I say I like the cruel Rhaenyra or the brave Aegon people start attacking me.

"but they changed Aemond and Alicent too"

I don't give a fuck about any other character than Rhaenyra and Aegon, ok?

I'm not team green or black, I'm team Rhaenyra and Aegon.

I hate the rest like Daemon and Aemond or don't feel anything about them like Jace and Haelena.

And yes I mostly post about Aegon because I see his fans can't even talk about him because some black fans can't understand the difference between reality and a show/book.

I really want to talk about Rhaenyra too but not show Rhaenyra, and black fans can't even take it when Emma said Rhaenyra is a lier, how can they take it if I talk about book Rhaenyra?

That's all, I just wanted you guys to know that I'm not pro black or pro green. I'm pro Rhaenyra and pro Aegon.