#this was a damn long hug

[sevennone]

240505 VGK@DAL | last game

[sugoi-writes]

Can I get some fluff of Alastor finding reader listening to old jazz songs from when he was alive and he makes us dance with him? :)

It's Been a While... (Alastor x GN! Reader)

Ahaha, I need more work on fluff, I hope you like it! There is SOME mentions of risque activites, but it's super brief, and nothing insanely explicit! Promise! I was honestly just writing to write, and figured this little blurb that fell out of me would be fitting enough. UNO REVERSE... We get ALASTOR to dance! Fuck yes!!!

Songs mentioned: In The Mood - Glenn Miller / Sing, Sing, Sing - Benny Goodman (both are bops I used to play when I was in jazz band houhosjknskhdj-- SURPRISE, you also get Danny Lore as a treato!)

Alastor's tense, heavy sigh sounds in the air, prompting you to crane your head up. You took in his disheveled state and instantly knew: he was exhausted. You stood from your plush armchair, abandoning it to walk toward his desk. 

"Alastor?" was all that was needed for his flattened ears to perk up. Your sweet voice was a much needed comfort during a particularly grueling evening. 

"Yes, dearest?" he replied, his smile hardly an upturned slit. You come up behind him slowly, waiting for his permission to touch. Alastor looks back to your hovering hands, and nods gingerly. He returns to facing his desk, allowing his eyes to lose focus as he zones out. When your arms wrap around his neck, his shoulders slump heavily, a pleased hum vibrating his chest. You smiled sweetly at the sound, a welcome pleasantry as you kissed his cheek. 

"You're getting frustrated again, my love..." you pipe up, continuing to pepper his cheek with chaste, innocent kisses. Your lover laughs bitterly, but leans into your musings all the same. 

"Well, I suppose you're right... leave it to my sweet, observant partner to know what's wrong... and when," he adds, a tired hand reaching up to rub slow circles into one of your arms. You grin against his cheek, your kisses slowing," I may also have a solution to your problem, if you'll hear me out~" 

Alastor hums in approval, grasping both of your hands when you continue to pamper him with sweet, physical adoration. 

"Dear, you are nothing if not full of brilliant ideas... I would love to hear them out," he muses, turning his head to plant a singular, sincere kiss to your lips. You were giddy at the affection, but capped your glee.  You tugged on his hands, eager to make your little plan work.

"Come on, come on... you'll have to get up for this one," you quip, forcing a dramatic sigh from your partner. Alastor throws his head back, laying it on your shoulder like an ill peasant woman. He would fan his face weakly, had your hands not been so warm.  

"My love, I have been stricken, and cannot get up~ Won't you let an old man rest?" he fired back. But truly, had you asked: he would happily jump into acid rain with nothing more than his dignity.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, smirking," You? Old? I wouldn't figure... No, you old geezer, I need you to stand so we can use your legs. They're very important for what I want to do." Alastor blinked, gears turning in his mind. Only with you would his mind wander to dirtier, carnal ideas. 

"Dear, if I had wanted to do that tonight, I'm afraid your back would've already been bent out of shape--" 

"Oh for Fucks Sake, Alastor--" you cackled, tugging on him with more insistence. 

" Come oooonnnnn, please~? It's one of your favorites, I promise! Nothing dirty, no tricks!" Alastor's interest is instantly piqued, resulting in an immediate hop up. Even with his motion, his hands were still in yours. You huff, exacerbated but grateful you didn’t have to lift him yourself. 

"Ahh, if you would have led with that, I may've been more urgent to attend to you, dear," Alastor chuckles, not missing the flush that flashed across your cheeks. You pull away from Alastor long enough to turn on the radio, flicking through several frequencies and stations to find just the right channel. Alastor watches you in amusement, arms crossing in front of his chest. He was more than content to watch you struggle, shifting his weight onto one foot.

"Well, I have to keep some of the suspense, don't I?" you replied, grinning at him in a way that made Alastor's black heart beat wildly. He did quite enjoy your mischievous nature... But your attempts to work his radio almost had him pitying you... Almost. 

He scooted in behind you, resting his crossed arms over the top of your head," You could request a song, you know... I don't mind putting on something you enjoy--" 

"I'd rather it be something we’d both enjoy," you interject, huffing as you became an armrest for your demonic partner. Once you found the right channel, you swiveled under Alastor's arms to face him. Then, you reach up to hold his elbows, shaking them around playfully. 

"Alright, sir... It's been a long, long time since we've done this... I want to do this properly." 

Alastor relents, allowing you to push his arms off of your head. He tilts his own toward you, expressing confusion. In that moment, he finally hones in on the song itself. In The Mood, popularized and recorded by Glenn Miller. It was one of the few songs that came to mind when you thought of "Alastor's Time" in the 30s. Said demon blinks in surprise, grinning. He had listened to this recording a bit after coming to hell, and was particularly fond of it. Ahh, you had picked the perfect station! 

"Glenn Miller? Oh, you spoil me, love," Alastor coos, caressing your face as he kisses your forehead," Whatever did I do to deserve this?" 

You sway your hips, bouncing in place to the tempo with the old tune," I know the recording's after your time... but-- He's just-- GOOD, y'know?" You bite your lip as you pull Alastor's hands off of your face," Now come on, Al... let's dance!" What a perfect distraction to break his tension and troubled mind! Alastor just knew he would enjoy your little idea... 

His hands settle on you, both lightly caging your hips as yours held onto his wide shoulders. As the main motif began, the both of you started bopping along to the music. You watched Alastor's face morph fully into a relaxed state; smile still present, but much softer than his manic glee. You had to use every fiber in your being not to kiss him in that instant, instead squeezing his shoulders. Alastor's ears twitch as you draw soothing circles into his tense muscles, a shudder being torn from his entire frame. 

"Relax, Alastor... I want you to forget about everything, except for this...," you coo, making him sigh with acceptance. He came close to you, flushing your bodies together in a tight, intimate sway. You could only sigh as he settled his chin onto the top of your head. 

"Oh darling, if I relaxed anymore, I would be putty in your hands...," Alastor chimes, the tail end of his sentence wandering off as you press harder. Alastor huffs pleasantly, his hands holding your hips more firmly," Sweetheart, you really will be my undoing..." 

You chuckle as you settle your hands, allowing Alastor a moment of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders, one hand seeking to grasp your opposite hand. Once he drew your arm out with his, his other hand shifted to the small of your back. You saw him grinning, playful and energetic," If it's a dance you want, then it had better be a good one, hmm? So let's jive~" 

You squealed as Alastor practically whisked you off of your feet, spinning the both of you elegantly around his bedroom. The sounds of cicadas and frogs croaking in the distant, swampy marsh of his extended bedroom accompanied the sweet jazz that filled the air. Truly, it was tying everything together seamlessly. You had it all: a nice scene, nice music, and a relaxed, precious beau to spend all night with. You would have patted yourself on the back, were it not for Alastor's telltale sign of a 'big dip' move. You looped both arms around his neck, hanging on as Alastor swung you down, his monocle threatening to slip off his face. You laughed as you casually adjusted it. You stared, enthralled as you lay your hand over his racing pulse. However, the moment didn’t last long before you were brought back to your feet. But you thought now would be the best time to be a bit closer…

Getting bolder now, you pulled Alastor in for a kiss via his bowtie, eager to finish the dance off strong. Alastor, of course, had no protests, as he looped his arms around your waist. The two of you embraced like this for what felt like an hour, unable to pull apart your mingling, eager lips. But, with the song ended, leaving you both in silence, you managed to pull away. You looked up to Alastor with knowing eyes, your smile reflected in his deep, red irises.

"I loved that, Alastor, thank you... And I hope you don't mind me whisking you away from work..." 

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes, an imitation of your look from earlier. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, his lips still puffy from your kiss," My love, you must whisk me away more often... In fact, I think I'd like another dance, if you'll join me?" Of course, you agreed silently, stepping on to the very tips of your toes to seal it with a kiss. 

"I'd love nothing more." 

Alastor grins with a deep chuckle, the radio pumping out a new song. Sing, Sing, Sing, popularized by Benny Goodman. You blink in surprise as this number moves... MUCH faster. And, from the sound of it, it will get you to sweat. You laughed nervously as Alastor brought you in again, his hand directing your hips to sway with his. You couldn’t help but become a little flustered as he closed the gap between your bodies, a playful, coy smile sent your way. 

"Hold on tight, love. Some recordings of this song could last up to ten minutes~" 

"WHAT--" 

Alastor practically cackled as you trapped yourself within a saucy dance, one of many that would fill your evening with sweat, laughter, and best of all: an Alastor whose smile finally reached his eyes. 

[willowser]

HMMMMMM interesting to think about arranged marriage with prince shouto...............

i think he wouldn't know. what to expect with you. i think he'd have an idea, as in, what his father, the king, has taught him; the duties of a wife, where your importance ranks in relation to his duties. what he's not meant to discuss with you, like politics and matters at court and foreign relations. how you will speak to him. what to buy in the event that you become...unhappy. a nuisance.

("and she will," enji had muttered, briefly glancing up from the parchment on his desk to fix shouto with a look he didn't understand. "they always do.")

you don't meet until the royal wedding, when you're coming down the long aisle of the grand cathedral, dressed up in a swathe of silk and lace. a thin, gossamer veil hides you from him, but he can feel the ardor in your eyes, the intensity burning through the material. it doesn't seem real until your bare face is only a breath from his own, until he has to see the earnestness in your stare, too.

your kiss is simple and chaste, nothing spectacular, something that leaves his mind as soon as it's over. ever a todoroki, a hundred other things enter his mind, all regarding his now iron-laid obligations: it's vital he meet with advisor keigo to reiterate the plan to establish his authority among the council; general aizawa is in attendance to the wedding, and shouto has not yet received word on his opinion of the new king's ideas to modernize their armed forces; midoriya is somewhere, no doubt wanting to go over state affairs again.

truthfully, shouto doesn't spend long "celebrating". there's already too much that's required of him, hardly enough time to even scarf down a few bites of the banquet laid out before he's being chartered off into discussions on foreign relations and infrastructure development. maybe once or twice does he look back to check on you, chatting pleasantly with his mother and sister at the front of the great hall, and that's satisfying enough.

it's not until much later that he sees you again; freshly bathed and wearing something sheer and long and white, atop his bed.

or his marriage bed, he must remind himself.

enji didn't spend long going over consummation, with him or either of his brothers—natsuo, red-faced and annoyed at the very subject, always storming off, and touya had seemed well-aware of the process, at the time (back before he'd been ex-communicated). it had sounded simple: strip off your dress, get his cock out and into you, and only retreat once he was sure his seed had been spilled.

—so he's not exactly sure what to do or think or how to feel, when you're laid bare and reaching up to hold his face.

it's so startling that he sits back on his knees, to frown where he's looming over you.

you stare at him quietly, like you're expecting him to say something, and he only has a moment to wonder if this is you becoming an unhappy nuisance—what had been the answer, to solve this, anyway?—before you let out a soft laugh.

"c'mere," you tell him, sitting up, too, when he keeps his distance. "i want you to kiss me."

"i already have."

"yes," you laugh again, amusement glowing in your eyes, like the warmth off the fireplace, as you reach for the ties on his trousers. "but you're meant to do it again."

and up until then, he'd felt confident in his achievements, his executions; he'd managed a lot today, in one evening, and he had a lifetime to manage more. it was a good a start as any, he'd thought, but now—

shouto almost can't get the words out when he feels your hands ghosting up the inside of his shirt, nails tickling over his ribs. "a-am i?"

you wrap your arms around his waist in what could be a hug, scooting forward to look up at him with your chin against his chest. "yes," you smile and—it's familiar in a way, how touya would whenever he was teasing. "you're my husband, you're meant to kiss me whenever i want."

that—was not something his father had ever said, he was sure, and it was a too-rare exchange between his own parents. now that he thinks about it—and he does, then, because he's faced with the reality that he doesn't know as much as he should—he's not sure the former king and queen even sleep in the same room, much less the same bed.

much less hug and touch and even smile, the way you do now.

there's no argument he can make against it, aside from finding keigo to find his father to verify the truth to such a statement, and he's only meant to retreat from this bed on one condition.

and if this is what it takes to meet that—then shouto supposes he'll have to do it, for now. he's a brand new king, after all, and it would seem he still has much to learn.

[leosulfurous]

had a bit of time so I did this little doodle of the Fridge teacher that only appears in like 3 shots in episode 5 of dhmis and has like 2 lines which he says in this goofy voice while flailing his arms around. Absolute king shit. I've loved him since I was 13 and will continue loving him forever. I am fridge's number one (and probably only) fan. Fridge forever. Fuck yeah

[whitetulip25]

Thinking about how Aegon and Aemond are jealous of each other and are longing to be in each other's shoes - Aegon wants to be the second son so he can have freedom of action, and Aemond wants to be the firstborn so he can fully embrace his potential as a family protector and fulfill the "duty and sacrifice" thing that Alicent has been so thoroughly hammering into him since he was a child.

What catches my eye this season is that they are straight up mirroring each other. Aegon is an insecure, stiff-necked boy in a man's body, because of how new and fresh it all is for him, he's euphoric from everyone's love and support. He is king, he is on top, everyone obeys/should obey him.  It is on this euphoria that he takes on the royal duties; everything is easy and not that difficult for him so far. He's completely clueless about governance, doesn't know how to deal with the small council members (the same scene with Tyland the pony is cute, but it's pretty damn insensitive to Tyland and everyone else present), disdainfully calls Aemond a hound while drinking with his buddies, etc.  But what is striking is that he is desperate for love and recognition, and therefore tries to earn it with exorbitant generosity. He sincerely tries to please his subjects by distributing the last reserves in the treasury, appoints his friends to the post of royal guards and goes to brothels with them, just to feel like he belongs somewhere and earn the status of the Magnanimous.

With the death of Jaehaerys it is even more difficult for him, he finds himself completely isolated from the rest of the family and lives through his grief by his own, making more and more questionable decisions and undermining his authority in the eyes of others. It is this isolation from his family that exacerbates the situation, since it is successfully exploited by Larys, who's whispering lies about Alicent's and Aemond's plotting against him. Aegon is impulsive and angry, he wants to play by his own rules while being terribly insecure and afraid of making a mistake. The last straw for him is the conversation with Alicent, who with a careless word pushed him into making a fatal mistake so he rushed into battle to do something, release emotional tension, and to prove himself.

Another very interesting detail of his character is his rejection of Targaryenism. He doesn't like Valyrian culture, language, traditions (incest in particular), even rejects the external attributes of typical Targaryen image, e.g. (long hair) and wears an emphasized sloppy hairstyle (yes, I consider it as a protest against the system). Ironically, his closest creature is his dragon, the very symbol of the Targaryens.

Similarly to Aegon, Aemond is also a complex, insecure boy who nevertheless, has managed to build a flawless at first glance image of an unmoving statue. Because of the attitudes instilled in him from childhood, he is very focused on his heritage and very protective of what Aegon despises so much - about Valyrian culture, language, traditions. Who knows, maybe for that the gods rewarded him with Vhagar out of all dragons? Aemond clearly knows what he wants, knows how to present himself and is not afraid of making mistakes, simply because he believes it's impossible for him to make any. Like Aegon, he is crushed by the weight of responsibility (including for the war that was started by his mistake; yes, I think he felt pity not for Luke, but for himself), just like Aegon he is isolated from the rest of the family, he longs for love like Aegon does, but contrary to the latter he rigidly denies himself that need. The only thing he has are the visits to the Madame and milk of the poppy. Soon he denies himself even this, decides not to show his true nature to anyone and to become a lone wolf. He is still as impulsive and angry as his brother, but knows how to twist it all out in cold disdain and sophisticated mockery. He has everything calculated - he will be able to show himself from the best side, to earn recognition and get Alicent's love back. But there's one flaw - when things don't go according to plan, he gets lost and unravels his ire upon everything and everyone he can reach. And in the end, just like Aegon, in Rook's Rest he does what he does to relieve the tension and get something done, regardless of the consequences.

And their whole tragedy lies in just that. They essentially want the same thing, which is their mother's love and validation. They're yin and yang, two forces dependent on each other, destroying each other in the process of self-destruction.

Thinking about how they are so similar and yet so different at the same time, two sides of the same coin, who will never realize it because of their pride and rage.

[squidprinceofwinterfell]

Funny that the AV Club suggested the Deep might have ulterior motives for comforting New Noir when Deep is, at his core, a sad lonely bro who just wants someone to shotgun beers with. It’s like you guys don’t even know him at all.

[coconut530]

BITTERSWEET REUNIONS

[secretsimpleness]

Part 4/4 :) Assassin’s Creed Odyssey (c) Ubisoft

[annakarenina]

Director Paul Schrader on the ending of First Reformed (2017):

I don’t know what the ending is. It can be read in either one of two ways. One, that a miracle has occurred and his life is spared. The other is equally, in my sense, optimistic, which is that he drinks the Drano and he’s on all fours. He’s throwing up his stomach and God comes over to him, who has not talked to him for the whole movie, and says, “Reverend Toller, you wanna know what Heaven looks like? Here it it is. This is exactly what it looks like: It looks like one long kiss. And that’s the last thing he sees.”

[r0semultiverse]

In case you didn’t know or needed to hear it, things do get better after you turn 18. Your life isn’t over even when you hit 21. 💜

This is me at vaguely around my mid-twenties. I’m trans & I’m here & while I don’t have everything figured out, I certainly have figured myself out way more than when I was younger. 💜 Yes it gets better. Yes you can grow older & be trans. There are people out there willing to love & accept you for you. There are partners, friends, family to be found. Don’t give up! 💪 Be proud, be loud, & let your rage out! Down with cis! Let’s rock this joint & keep on living!! 🖤 Things will be less noisy eventually, just please live! ⭐️

💖 You are worth it & it gets better! 💜

[burberrycanary]

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions)

Stucky, Endgame Fix-it, Road Trip Get Together

The afternoon light shines in, turning the room the warm Naples yellow hue he’d read about as a kid but couldn’t see, couldn’t understand, until the boy he’d first wanted was long gone, lost to time with worse to come on the way to their separate unquiet graves.

But here’s the devastating miracle: Bucky with him in all this sunlight.

And they get to start the whole thing over again with Bucky’s hands cupping his jaw while Steve’s palms slide down all the warm mostly smooth skin from Bucky’s shoulder blades to the small of his back to his ass. He feels like kissing Bucky, hungry and skipping right to open and deep, wanting the beautiful way Bucky responds to him—desire made bigger by passing this ache between them back and forth.

He takes Bucky to bed.

Read Chapter 44 on AO3

Only three more chapters to go! Many thanks to my betas @village-skeptic​​​​​​​​​​​, @booksandabeer​​​​​​​​​​​ and @zenaidamacrouras1​​​​​​​​​​​ 🥰

[lordofthemushrooms]

The hug. “I care about you”. “This is nice” “my dear”

I am crying so hard

[statementlou]

It’s too bad that some people have to ruin a nice thing. Louis is going to places that really don’t get a lot of big concerts. He’s going out of his way to reach these places and probably isn’t making a whole lot of money, and in return some people are being so gross. We all know that there are the stalker crew that follow the tour and fight local fans to get to the barricades, so odds are high they’re part of the problem we’re seeing now. I wouldn’t blame him if for the next leg there is no more barricade run.

While I'm aware that most people aren't as chronically online and tracking Louis' every mood and movement as I am, at this point even a mild engagement with the fandom in the runup to your show- which I feel like its safe to assume anyone putting in the time to get on barricade has- is enough to let you know that at this time he is not enjoying people tugging at his clothes and it is not the moment! I think there are the privileged foreign fans following him around who carry that sense of privilege into their actions on barricade, I think there are probably local fans who are just wildly excited about their one show and getting a little crazed in the moment (or just being jerks) as well- personally I wish that instead of having it be an all or nothing thing that Louis would just do it when he's feeling it and having fun and it feels fun and silly to let people tug at him, and simply take the day off when he is, for example, sick and struggling through a lot of back to back shows, the same as he lets the songs that are harder at certain times be taken off the set list as needed and only does the stage door fan time when he feels up for it

[yummycrummy]

!! Happy June 19th YIPPEE🎉🌈 wanted to draw the goofs from the first ep

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Okey same person who asked about thranduil baby daddy’s here.

By the way loved the explanation, makes sense. But I would love to hear more about Ingwe and his adopted relationship to thranduil.

Especially your opinion on how would have thranduil reacted seeing how ingwe turned out? in the sense that in valinor he was all “pease,art,music and the serving the valar”.

Also do you think if given the chance to return to middle earth after going to valinor, the we’s would have returned? And would they have brought their children with them?

I love hearing questions, so dw!

So, first things first: little reminder that everything i have to say is about my au, and is not always canon compliment.

So Ingwe actually calls Thranduil his ada. If you ever hear him talking about his Ada he means thranduil. And everytime someone tries to interfere and say “don’t you mean ingen?” After they started living in valinor (ingen and Alehalen(ingwe’s mom) went with the vanyar) ingwe point blank tells them no, they aren’t his parents.

It’s actually a point of tension, bc valinor elves don’t really understand the concept of adoption, just like they don’t really deal with divorce/remarrying/everything that happened between miriel and finwe. So a lot of elves don’t actually acknowledge that Ingwe has disowned Ingen and Alehalen. Including his younger sister Indis, who was born in valinor (yes, in this au indis is his sister) and his wife, who keeps insisting that he should mend his relationship with them.

And thranduil just treats him like he came from his body. Which isn’t difficult bc Ingwe and Lasgen could be twins tbh. Lasgen and Ingwe are genuinly close, btw, and will call each other “twin”. Thranduil is, however, ready to throw down with Ingen and Alehalen the moment he catches even the faintes whif of them treating him like shit. It was a lot of comforting a crying elfling way back when. Tbh, because custody arrangements and such didn’t really exist then, Ingwe actually just generally spent a lot of time with thranduil and his family, especially as he became older.

This actually what kind of kickstarted the bad blood between the two families. I mean, when ingen ding-dong-ditched thranduil, they were annoyed but moved on oretty quick (especially when they don’t think that loosing Ingen was any real lose) but the way ingen proceeded to treat his kids, and the way in which thranduil “stole” his sone from him really sparked the fire between the two families. Which is why ingwe doesn’t understand how Finwe, who is a Miriel simp, could possibly cheat on her with Indis, of all elves.

It’s complicated. And the drama started long before the Miriel/Finwe/Indis debacle was even thought up, though most elves don’t realize it/forgot.

So, idk if you know this, but i joke on here that Ingwe “started a cult” to deal with his emotions/gain power. Except then he lost control of the cult. To his parents. And sister. And wife. And to an extent his son. Yeah Ingwe’s just having a bad time. He also is very scared that after the thousands of years since he’s seen thranduil that thranduil no longer thinks of him as his son.

Dw, the moment thranduil is in valinor (through whatever means that may be) he pretty much immediately tracks down his long lost son and demands he comes for a family diner all while hugging the stuffing out of him. Thranduil genuinly wouldn’t care how Ingwe turned out as long as he’s happy and not an ass. Sadly, it’s sad vanya elf hours and ingwe’s been lowkey miserable for millenia and this 👌 close to snapping.

The thing about cuivienen elves, is that in general, i think, they deserve to have their own classification bc, by virtue of being the ones who discovered everything/created society/etc. they all have their wires crossed. And it’s not that they dislike peace, but most of them feel a bit stiffled in valinor. Furthermore, i feel like they feel at least a little disassociation with other vanya/teleri/noldor born elves bc cuivienen elves didn’t actually grow up in that culture, and a lot of those distinctions between elven ethnicities happened after they were kids. They feel a little lost, a little out of place at times.

I actually hc that none of the we’s were actually planning to stay in valinor or lead their people but somehow ended up in that role anways and they’re kinda pissed about it. They just wanted to explore, ok, they did not know it meant signing up to be king.

I feel like all of them want to return to middle earth, if they get the chance, but they also don’t want to abandon their people/families, nd they feel it would be unfair to ask it of their families, when a lot of them are clearly happy in valinor.

In short, in my au, the -we’s feel more or less trapped in their role.

Especially when they have to constantly behave civil, when they’re all a little unhinged. Ingwe’s actually pretty bloodthirsty when it comes down to it. It’s something he shares with Lasgen, Willow (other older sister from another mother) and indis. This drive to be ruthless and almost cruel when dealing with any type of opposition is something they inherited from Ingen, though none (bar indis) likes to acknowledge that that is where they get it from.

Also, just a thought:

Thranduil: *steps foot in valinor*

Ingwe, finwe, elwe, and olwe: finally, an adultier adult.

Might have gotten a bit side tracked, but i hope this answered at least most of your questions.

[crow-with-a-pencil]

Them theatre kids