#ollie tag

[cathedralcomic]

our mascot says hi

[queerregulusablack]

“I guess I’m just... trying to make sense of it.”

James lifted his head, no longer lounging quite so dramatically where he was splayed out on the floor of Regulus’ bedroom; and found the younger boy watching him, turned sideways in his desk chair while he pressed his mouth against the arm he had draped across the back.

“Is there all that much to make sense of?” James asked, conjuring a wry grin as he held his eyes. “It feels pretty simple to me.”

“You didn’t watch yourself chase Lily Evans for five years, only to find you suddenly losing interest in her right as she seemed to notice you back. And I’m not a mind reader, Jamie, I can’t...”

His brow furrowed, familiar irritation crossing his face, and James levered himself to his feet, before he approached the chair, and then coaxed Regulus out of it, pulling him across the room so he could perch on the edge of his ridiculous bed and get him situated in James’ lap instead.

“I liked Lily; I’ll give you that. It was a little kid kind of like, especially at the start, but I did like her. But I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I? And I already think I’m making much better choices, liking someone who’s actually interested in return for a change.”

He watched the way Regulus caught at his bottom lip with his teeth, dragging the plush swell of it into his mouth to worry at; and James nosed in against his throat, and kissed him softly while he moved both hands to pull Regulus’ hair free of its braid.

The younger boy didn’t speak again until it was all loose, and James was running his fingers through the silk-smooth fall of it greedily.

“What if you change your mind back, though?”

It was barely audible, whisper soft and half buried in James’ shoulder where he’d tilted his head obligingly to welcome the neck kisses; and James pulled back so he could meet his eyes, and frown back at him.

Regulus’ expression was soft and vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be - certainly not outside his room, certainly not with anyone outside his brother and their small group of close friends - and James murmured his name softly before he lifted a hand to set against his cheek, cupping his face gently and smoothing his thumb over the high arch of it.

“That’s not going to happen. I’m mad about you in a way it’s actually hard to put into words, Regulus Black, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Regulus’ smile at that was a tiny, fleeting thing, and James smiled back at him. “But because I know that’s not enough for you, a hypothetical; if it ever did happen, and I felt like I was falling out of love with you, or in love with someone else, we’d talk about it. I’d tell you, okay? I’d never just drop you and move on, love, and you know I wouldn’t.”

Regulus shut his eyes, and turned his face to hide more effectively in James’ palm; but he nodded, and James tapped his thumb gently against the point of his nose before he slipped his fingers back into his hair instead, and pressed in to kiss along the sharp, elegant line of his jaw.

So much of Regulus was sharp edges. Between the angled, bird-bone fragile beauty of him and the spiky façade he put up around other people, his tongue and sense of humour keen like the edge of a knife, proximity to him always seemed to threaten to make you bleed.

It was how James had thought of him a year ago, when he was just Sirius’ solemn little brother. It was how he thought of himself, James had come to realise; like a cactus, with too many thorns for the flowers to be worth it.

These days James knew better; and he kissed up his lovely sharp jaw, over his high cheekbones, down the bridge of his straight, daintily-pointed nose, until he could finally press a kiss to the soft, sweet fullness of his mouth.

Regulus melted against him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, sighing sweetly into his mouth as James kissed him; and James knew, with all the certainty in the world, that all those sharp edges were a shell around a terribly soft interior.

If Regulus was sharp, he was sharp in the way a glass sculpture might be, once it had been dropped a couple of times.

His edges were shattered, sheared down to points from how often he’d been treated without the care he deserved. But he was both delicate and fire-forged at the same time, and- and-

And that was where the metaphor always fell apart, James supposed, because glass sculptures were rarely full of marshmallow fluff the way his Reg was; but the point stood.

Regulus had been fooled into thinking he was hard to love, over and over and over again. He’d been made to believe than the effort it took to love him was never worth the reward. That he was a bramble patch without fruit behind his thorns.

These days, James knew that loving Regulus was effortless once you actually bothered to try; and he kissed him, and ran blunt nails over his scalp at the base of his skull so he’d purr, and slipped his other hand under the back of his tshirt so he’d bite him, gently, in a reprimand he didn’t mean, and felt struck a little silly with just how easy it was.

Loving Lily had been easy to start, too, but most things were when you were eleven. At eighteen, very little felt this natural from the start; and he would clutch the feeling in both hands for as long as he was able.

“You can trust me, Regulus. I promise you can trust me. There’s no changing my mind about you, okay?”

He murmured the words against Regulus’ lips, and punctuated them with another kiss, and a firm caress of his thumb down the bumps of his spine at the small of his back.

Regulus looked back at him, grey eyes flicking between James’ like he was searching for something; before he smiled, and relaxed in his arms, and combed fingers back through the thick mess of James’ hair.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise, James Potter,” he assured him; and James grinned, and kissed him again.

(for @stonedregulus)

[doctorwhoisadhd]

jack harkness + hurt people by the garages

[tfemdwt]

please talk abt Adam :3 pelpspllpapslalpseplelspsplespllspsppaplelpsepl lelsapsleeeeease :3c im rattling this man in my head

he has a personality disorder i just gotta figure our which one or two first

i also think he would trans his own gender for the sake of being able to claim he was the first man AND woman and because he thinks women are epic

he thinks charlie is cool would hang out with her but he Doesn't like listening to people talk and well. she's talkative. they would get along really well if Adam could just infodump about women and rock n roll to her.

tucks his wings under his arms and over his chest when he's feeling uncomfortable or threatened. or if he's not wearing his robes. kind of like the way you wrap a towel around your chest after a shower.

his favorite activities are singing and discussing women with lute (bisexual)

kind of a sad one um. he was really in love with lucifer while they were in the garden and he didn't mind that eve hooked up with him but once once lucifer found out he purposefully lead him on and seduced him so he'd get kicked out of the garden.

wears his mask all the time because he still feels the Nakedness Shame from the garden. lol.

[fridayyy-13th]

using only the song titles of one artist/band, cleverly answer the questions and then tag people.

tysm @ollieofthebeholder for the tag!! i decided to go with Toby Fox :D

what's your gender: The Lost Child

how do you feel: Quiet Water

if you could go anywhere: A Town Called Hometown

fave mode of transportation: Bird That Carries You Over A Disproportionately Small Gap

your best friend: Crustacean

favorite time of day: Sunsetter

if your life was a tv show: Unnecessary Tension

relationship status: Friendship

your fears: Imminent Death

tags (no pressure!!): @winterswrandomness @raine-drop-talks @cornmazehater @justanotherenbyhere

[fluorescent-if]

Motifs you associate with the characters?

this was a really fun one to answer! (So sorry it took so long to get to)

Cameron: cedarwood, bread

Ollie: coffee, jasmine

R: Mirrors, hearths/fireplaces

Terra: birds, lightning

[th3-third-duffel-bag]

i drew an autistic dinosaur

ASDFGHJL

DARREN!!!

okay darren is my child now. hes mine.

[peronasghosts]

trick or treat!

treat!! have an excerpt from my nevermoor fic that was originally for mogtober but which i haven’t finished. it’s a 5 + 1 with five times wundersmiths added to the gossamer spun garden and one time a wundersmith began it again. the excerpt is the first part of it

Ariel Kingston

Ariel had been imagining this moment for almost a year. At first, it was a faint what-if while they were teaching one of the younger Wundersmiths, Cathaoir Corcoran, the Art of Weaving. Then, it was something that they thought of more and more often, and it became serious.

Wundersmiths hadn’t been around a long time, only about three or four generations. Almost everyone (even some Wundersmiths) still wondered if their cycle was going to be around forever, or if it was simply a short phenomenon that they were lucky to see. Ariel wanted to create something permanent. Something that would last, and show the legacy of Wundersmiths, even if they would fade into the past.

Something that would show what they had stood for.

Ariel stood in the vast chamber of Van Ophoven, a stately but empty room often used for the few formal functions and traditions the Wundersmiths hosted. Ariel remembered Emmeline Van Ophoven, a Wundersmith who’d been old when they’d been found. She’d been larger than life to that ten year old, but she’d taught them well.

She’d taught them Weaving first.

Ariel was excellent at all of the Wundrous Arts, as were all of the Wundersmiths (except Cathaoir Corcoran, but he’d come along. After all, they were only nine), but they especially delighted in Weaving.

Ariel started with flowers, magnificent magnolias and sunflowers rising high. With them, Weaving was a dance, a joyful, ever-evolving one like the ones that swept through the city on Morningtide. From their fingers sprung roses, dahlias, and the carnivorous white pitcher plants (which they’d been taken with as a child), fully grown and in full bloom.

Next, they moved onto the trees they’d always imagined after hearing folk tales by the fire, before he was brought to the Wundrous Society. Starting as small sprouts, they led them up towards the ceiling with his fingers, as elegantly as a conductor of an orchestra. The trees were silver and gold, with leaves that changed color when Ariel tilted their head.

For the last piece of their plan, they walked around the beginnings of the garden, and where their feet stepped, stepping stones were left. They shimmered like stained glass, but were as hard as diamond.

As Ariel left Van Ophoven, they looked over their shoulder with a smile. They’d have to show Cathaoir soon. The kid loved plants, and would probably delight in being able to practice in a place that felt fun, and, most importantly, comfortable.

[jegulusofwesper]

zar’s 🤝. ollie’s

jegulus making rosekiller

. me fall in love

. with the ship

[stonedopossums]

i love terrorizing my friends 🖤

[anauro]

evan and barty are both switches you can all go home now.

The king has spoken everyone.

[bonesrbleaching]

RIDDLER BLORBO BINGO

MWAH KISSES

[queerregulusablack]

idea. king regulus. senior advisor to the king nikolai. knights hugo, and noah. i am… sort of chewing rocks over it

*Clears throat*

King Regulus who was never meant to be King. He wasn't raised with the necessary lessons, was never trained in swordplay or horsemanship, never sat in on council meetings or sat through lectures on the economic make up of the realm.

Sure, he read the books Sirius was given and never did, and he listened in on his lessons a lot of the time, and once or twice hid in the gallery of the council chamber to listen to war councils and strategy meetings. He snuck down to the training yard to learn to use daggers - and Dorcas, knight in training herself, taught him enough that he's talented with them, and how to ride a horse rough-shod besides, just in case - and after the handful of times he stumbled after Ted Tonks on a hunt the man finally taught him enough survival skills that he no longer needed to worry about him getting himself killed-

But he wasn't trained for it. Regulus was the spare; and spare to a healthy, intelligent, robust heir, one everyone was certain would seamlessly step into the role of King once his father stepped down.

Regulus was going to be a cartographer. He was going to see the world. He was going to make maps. Beautiful ones, with watercolour sea creatures and extravagant compasses penned into the corners; his own signature mark.

And then Sirius disappeared. And his parents were dead. And Regulus was no longer going to make maps.

-

Nikolai was, so far as his teachers were concerned, never going to be more than a minor mage. He mastered the rudimentary spells easily, and has a mind for the theory, but battle magic eluded him, and the one time he was asked to try to bottle lightning he passed out from the effort.

Sure, he's a born mage rather than a learned one, the mind reading an unusual - and in some cases unsettling - talent, but it's about as useless as the rest of his magic, as far as the guild was concerned. He was destined for a life as a researcher; or, if he was very lucky, as an apothecary, perhaps for one of the more influential families.

The Mage's Guild, of course, regularly sends its apprentices to the castle, to make use of the grounds and the library and so the King and Queen could observe their progress.

It was the simplest thing in the world, for an overlooked minor mage to strike up a friendship with the equally ignored younger prince.

When his parents die, Regulus needs someone he can trust. Someone who will be honest with him, who cares enough about him to help, who cares enough about his Kingdom to help protect it; and in the years they've known each other, Nik, has proven himself to be exactly that.

Mind reading is an advantage when you're senior advisor to the young new King. Nik has the council cleared of anyone who might think to usurp Regulus in a matter of hours; and all those foundational magic skills come in very, very handy after years of being told they're all you'll achieve, and taking the challenge to make yourself powerful anyway.

-

Hugo and Noah aren't expecting to be assigned to the personal guard of the fucking King himself.

That's a role usually reserved for aristocratic knights; for the ones who grew up wielding expensive sabres, whose commissions were bought by their parents, whose appointment was more about forging allies with their families than truly protecting anyone.

They're expecting nothing, when the full regiment is assembled into lines - aristocrats in the front, of course, with Hugo, Noah, and the rest of the scum in the back, Dorcas glaring at their captain, Mary tapping her foot as she waits for this all to be over.

But instead of some snotty, up-himself lord, or a prissy little lady, the person who comes to look them over is slight, a light haired, dark blue eyes curious in his pale face, and dressed in novice mage robes.

He walks the rows of guards slowly, looking each of them in the face.

When his eyes meet Noah's, Noah goes a truly mortifying shade of crimson; and the boy hides a smile, and continues walking, looking at the rest of them thoughtfully.

In the end, six of them are chosen to form the new guard. A couple of aristocratic guards, as expected, Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch - though they aren't alliances anyone would have expected, the Rosiers already cousins to the Crown, the Crouchs a lesser house - and then Noah, Hugo, Dorcas, and a shocked Mary.

Noah can't stop looking at the mage - Nikolai, he introduces himself as afterwards, smile soft and rueful, senior advisor to His Majesty - and Hugo has to elbow him more than once, grinning at his besotted friend.

When they meet the king for the first time, sat in the gardens with a book open in his lap, Hugo is the one who has to be elbowed out of the way he freezes, and Noah grins just as widely.

[tfemdwt]

nsfw accs: we're censoring our stuff, blocking sfw accs, blocking ccs, and generally making sure that you have to look for it to find it

some dumbfuck maintwt user: HEY EVERYONE. THESE GUYS ARE POSTING PORN!!!!!

LIKE NONE OF THESE CCS ARE YOUR FRIENDS. THEYRE NOT GONNA PAT YOU ON THE BACK FOR STARTING A WITCH HUNT.

there have literally Been Cases of ccs being exposed to shit they Didn't Want To See because people decided to blast it on the timeline instead of just using the block button like a normal person.

like i really do not give a fuck what your opinion on rpf or cc boundaries is, PUTTING IT IN A SPACE WHERE A CC CAN SEE IS FUCKING WEIRD BEHAVIOR. STOP ACTING LIKE A COP.

[babysgarage]

for once in my life i paint a background and this is what i decide to do with it 

[fluorescent-if]

What are the ROs families like?

Cameron: They are an only child, with very little extended family. While they are very close to their parents, who were on the surface incredibly supportive of all their endeavors, the relationship was a bit strained in the years that they were 'gallivanting around the country' but have since been able to talk it out. Their parents are trying to be more understanding (which is much easier when they started to go with a traditional career path) and they are overall incredibly kind people, with some flaws.

Ollie: Ollie is not very close with their family, because while their parents call at least once a week, they don't like to talk about their actual problems as to not worry her. They have a very large extended family on their mother's side, and are the youngest of two siblings. They get along well with their brother, and he lives in Santa Fe to take care of their Grandfather.

Rose/Rory: R is the oldest of three siblings, and while they do have extended family, they do not talk. Their parents left Misty Cove shortly after R's youngest brother left for college, which is the only reason R was even slightly okay with moving back after the group split up. Their relationship with their parents has never been great, with having all of the expectations piled on top of them, they started to resent their parents and have not talked to them in years. As far as siblings go, they will still talk with their younger sister and brother, though it's harder considering they live in different parts of the country.

Terra: Well, oh boy there's a lot happening here. Terra does not have a very good relationship with her mother for a multitude of reasons, some of which are spoilers, some of which are her mother's own prejudices. Her parents divorced when she was very little, and she lived with her Dad most of the time, but was with her mom for the summers, when they would visit her grandparents in Misty Cove. She and her father have a good relationship, and is still incredibly close with her grandfather.