#Drafty

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Tinsel really gives a glittery visual to a drafty house! Very pretty…no wonder I’m cold.

[avkamfher]

I'm re-learning that my house is pretty drafty.

Unfortunate since it is uhh. . .cold.

[lunian]

i just think these 2 kisses are neat for no reason, yeah :)

[red-roka]

Captivated

[redwiccanrobin]

This hug wasn’t in the script. In the script, it was only written for Debbie and Lip to embrace Ian. Not Mickey. But, Noel just pulled Cameron in. Cameron just went with it and hugged him back.

This kiss wasn’t scripted. It was just meant to be a simple embrace. Cameron just made the decision to pull Noel closer and give a soft kiss to his head. And Noel just let it happen, didn’t react to it.

I love these moments. They’re tender, soft, loving. It also shows this level of trust and how comfortable Noel and Cameron were with each other. Sometimes they understood the characters better than the writers did. I think some of the reason that Gallavich works so much is that it’s Cameron and Noel. They’re great actors and they developed this chemistry that you could feel while watching. They put in care, they loved portraying these two and their love story. And that’s an amazing thing.

[sweet-bazzle-bean]

Ed listing "Orgasms" as one of the pros of living is of course hilarious, but him knee-jerk answering "Warmth" is going to haunt me to my grave.

[total-drama-brainrot]

nowen playing up the world's funniest bit post world tour (assuming the og cast stays on playa des losers whilst roti is being filmed) and just not telling anyone they're dating. abusing the "best friends" card to get away with increasingly more pda until someone cracks.

it starts off with owen carrying noah around on his shoulders like a neck pillow for a whole day. no one bats an eye; noah's lazy and owen's too altruistic for his own good, nothing strange about buddies carrying their friends.

and then the two of them just start randomly hugging whenever they want. people brush it off when owen's the one doing the hugging, until noah just walks up to his loving bf and clings to him like a koala unprompted. probably takes a nap like that too. but everyone politely refuses to address their mutual clinginess because it's whatever, right? nothing outlandish about friends hugging.

one day, during one of the casts' shared meals, someone notices that noah's missing and points it out. noah's head pops out from owen's shirt collar, revealing he's sat with (on) his chubby buddy underneath his shirt. eyebrows are raised, but it's overlooked.

later on, noah smacks his massive forehead on the corner of a door or something and owen rushes over to kiss it better, then peppers his whole face in kisses to "heal his boo-boos". people are starting to question how platonic their friendship is, but remember that owen's just kind of like that sometimes as a disaster bi and let it slide.

but after this incident the two of them get more comfortable playfully kissing each other in public and everyone is too awkward to outright ask if they're /srs or /j.

they start calling each other increasingly ridiculous pet names- escalating from things like "little buddy" and "big guy", to the classic "honey" "babe" and "dear", to outlandish stuff like "my little rotisserie chicken" and "my darling malewife whom i love dearly" and "panzerkampfwagen viii maus". no one knows what to make of this.

it isn't until heather gets fed up with everyone's hesitance to address the subject and corners the two for answers (she strikes me as the type of person to be super direct when asking for tea to be spilled) that the pair turn and nod sagely to each other. owen explains "we're married for tax benefits." noah laughs so hard he passes out.

[suffer-my-displeasure]

Story time with Snape in the astronomy tower

The cover for @snapecelebration’s 2023 calendar - How to get it

[ashenmind]

the girl? to girl to girl? pipeline

[k4vehrtz]

teacher ! reader who’s into tattoos n’ megumi who (without much thought) suggests that you stop by his old man’s shop thus leading you to meet tattoo artist ! toji for the first time because this man does NOT attend parent–teacher meetings let’s be honest

[blasphemousclaw]

did the Volcano Manor existed before Rykard?

I think it’s quite possible! The existence of the Serpent-Hunter essentially tells us that there has already been a concentrated effort to hunt down the Great Serpent:

“Weapon that serves as both greatsword and spear. Thought to have been used to hunt an immortal great serpent in the distant past, it manifests a long blade of light when facing such a creature. When their master's heroic aspirations degenerated into mere greed, his men searched for a weapon with which they might halt their lord.”

We also know that Mt. Gelmir’s ancient serpent-worshipping civilization died out a long time ago…

“Curved sword fashioned in the image of an ancient serpent deity and tool of a forgotten religion practiced on Mt. Gelmir.”

…so we have to ask ourselves, what happened to them? They may very well have been purged by the Golden Order, who created a weapon specifically to destroy their serpent god. The Golden Order considers the serpent to be a traitor to the Erdtree, so it makes total sense that they would have carried out a purge against serpent-worshippers in such close proximity to the capital… and maybe erected a fortress around the volcano to ensure the serpent god never returned. The question is, was this hypothetical conflict the reason why serpents are considered traitors (and the Golden Order was simply doing what it does best — eradicating any civilization that might pose a threat to their own), or did the Golden Order already despise the serpent because of a different reason? (we might find out in the DLC… looking at you, Messmer)

Anyway, I can see this fortress over time becoming less focused on hunting the Great Serpent, as it doesn’t seem like it resurfaced for an extremely long time, and more focused on being used as a dungeon where criminals and heretics were sent to be imprisoned and interrogated. What better place to send prisoners than a long-abandoned castle on top of a volcano? Unfortunately for the Golden Order, the guy they made Praetor, though being very good at his job, also happened to really enjoy committing heresy himself.

Volcano Manor also has some architectural details I find interesting; they might not actually be intended to imply a timeline, but I feel like mentioning them nevertheless: Volcano Manor is a Gothic-style castle (at least the outside is; the inside is actually pretty Neo-Classical), but it’s always struck me as inspired by 19th-century Gothic-revival palaces more so than genuine Gothic fortresses from the Middle Ages... the scale of the Manor, with its many intricate spires and chimneys and massive walls covered in windows, reminds me more of the likes of Neuschwanstein Castle and Hohenzollern Castle, which were built by 19th century nobility as luxurious showpieces… you know what, maybe that’s why it’s called Volcano Manor rather than something like “Volcano Castle”!

This idea seems to go against the idea that Volcano Manor is extremely old, but at the same time, this is a video game, so historical architectural styles can’t technically be used to prove or disprove a theory. Also, castles can be rebuilt! The current Hohenzollern Castle was built right on top of the old castle after it fell into disrepair. Who’s to say Rykard didn’t take on an entire remodeling of an old castle to meet his own architectural tastes… it’s certainly in character. I’d also bet that he added that giant mechanical bridge that we raise up out of the lava:

Anyway, tl;dr I think it makes a ton of sense for the fortress to have already been there, but if it was, Rykard probably did some remodeling.

[silvr-skreen]

HE LIVES!

[salty-dracon]

POV: You're a tired college student sitting in the lecture hall before Reca's class in 2.6

(written entirely based on the 2.6 trailer)

(update: I have never written anything so inaccurate in my life I wanna curl up into a ball orz )

You're attending Penacony's Paperfold University College. It's the middle of the night (it's Golden Hour, Penacony, it's always the middle of the night, good luck waking up on time for your classes LMAO) with a professor your film major buddies have only described as "passionate" and one outwardly finds super weird. You looked him up on the universe's equivalent of RateMyProfessor and he's sitting at 3.5 out of 5 stars because no one can live up to his exacting standards and also he's apparently a little crazy? Like you've had sadistic professors who loved failing their students, but you'd think they would mention that in the reviews. So who knows what that means. Hopefully nothing bad.

Anyway this is just a one-time seminar for fun so you're thankful, but the art building sucks. You're sitting in the coldest, draftiest lecture hall you've ever seen. You can hear the radiator hissing. The desks are so scratched and cut-up they look like they might give you splinters. For how many years have these desks existed? How many generations of animators and film people have been taking notes on this thing? Is this what all film majors have to suffer through? Hell, is this what all art majors have to suffer through? Thank goodness you're... not that.

And there's a chalkboard. If there's one thing you don't need when you're this exhausted, it's the sound of chalk squeaking on a chalkboard.

And while you're watching the seconds tick by, in walks a trio of people your age. and you're looking at them and you're like, none of them have ever been to a college before. (Probably offworlders.)

Like there's this guy with black hair who's just super quiet (way too quiet, and way too serious) but when's the last time you saw a college student carrying around a fresh case bound notebook that doesn't look like it was bought at the mall? Those things get destroyed if you carry them around in your bookbag for too long- you figured that out your first week. He looks way too ready to take notes amidst the background noise. He's writing the planet name, system date, and "Seminar with the film director Mr. Reca" at the top of that expensive looking notebook's second page. And the ink isn't feathering or bleeding through the page. Your animation friend would probably be obsessed with that paper, she keeps going on about how important good paper is, but you can't afford the stuff. Maybe you should ask him the brand later.

And he's being talked at by a pair of chatterboxes. One of them is, once again, way too well-dressed to be a habitual college student. She did her clothes up in blue, pink, and white to match her hair and eyes. It's pretty cute, all things considered- you wish you still had the energy to dress up like that at 6am. Maybe you should ask her for fashion advice. The pitch of her voice rises above the din of the room. "Ooooooh, I can't wait! This is going to be so cool! A seminar by a real film director! It's a shame Mr. Yang couldn't attend. He'd love this kind of stuff!".

The second chatterbox is this snarky looking person you can't really get a read on. They didn't even bring a notebook. They outright state they've never been to a college before. And now they're going on and on, trying to compare this lecture hall to buildings on planets you've never really heard of. "A museum on the cold, frosty planet Jarilo-IV"- your mind wanders for a moment as you consider what that would be like. Still, something about them seems to signal that they're a singularity of experience. They've probably seen more in a system year than you have in your entire lifetime. That might be why they keep speaking in words you don't understand. What's a 'surprised Pikachu face'? Must be one of those jokes that only makes sense if you were there to witness it.

Yeah, this strange-looking friend group is probably from off world. And they're probably adventurers at that. They probably don't want to be bothered with the ramblings of a tired college student.

The door opens. You hear leather boots on a wood floor, and the room quiets with the weight of a man's presence. He's finally here.

You sure hope everything goes smoothly. Getting stuck in the Oak Family's dream ruined your weekend that one time, but that was a long time ago. Seriously, what's the worst that could happen? The professor traps the room in some kind of film reel dimension and a horde of monkeys attacks the campus? ... Nah, that would never happen.

[thesymphonytrue]

Heyy buddy!!

If you are still taking prompts then Peter to Neal - "you're bleeding all over my carpet" (67)

XOXO

thank you for the prompt! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Longer version—Read on AO3

Pre-canon

Mozzie picked at the Brooklyn townhome lock anxiously. Normally he was calm, cool, and collected when he broke into homes but there were several worrisome issues with this particular residence:

One, it belonged to a Suit.

Two, it belonged to The Suit.

Three, Neal was unconscious and bleeding out.

Click.

The door swung open and the house alarm instantly began to sound. Mozzie knew he only had mere seconds before Peter Burke came thundering down the stairs, armed with a baseball bat (or worse). With a grunt of exertion, Mozzie pulled the unconscious Neal through the doorway and unceremoniously dumped him onto the Burke’s living room carpet.

“I’m sorry, Mon Frere,” Mozzie whispered as he skedaddled out the door, “But you’ll be in better hands here, then in theirs.”

NYPD was hot on their trail and Mozzie could not outrun them with an unconscious accomplice. Naturally, since they were already in The Suit’s neighborhood, Mozzie had to hedge his bets on Neal’s wit, charm, and Peter’s undeniable affection towards Neal (as much as Mozzie hated that) to get Neal out of the Burke’s house alive and free. Mozzie shut the door and disappeared into the night, sending up a prayer to the stars that his dear friend would escape the Suit’s clutches.

But if he didn’t…

At least Neal would be alive.

~~~~~~~

Peter scanned the living room as he bolted down the stairs, baseball bat in hand.

Neal Caffrey?

Bleeding.

Alive?

Oh god please be alive!

Peter instantly fell to Neal’s side and checked his pulse.

Thump. Thump. Tha-wump.

“What the hell did you get yourself into, Caffrey,” Peter muttered to himself, using his hands to find where Neal’s bleeding was.

“Hon! What—is that—” Elizabeth said breathlessly as she came down the stairs as well, still clad in her pajamas.

“Turn off the alarm, El, and grab the first aid kit!” Peter commanded.

Elizabeth darted to the kitchen to type in their code. The alarm wailing stopped, clearing Peter’s head. He found blood oozing from Neal’s side and instantly pressed his hands down to apply pressure.

Neal let out a whimper of pain.

“Neal, you’re okay, it’s Peter Burke, FBI—”

“Hey, P-peter…” Neal tried to smile but it was weak, “Did you get m-my postcard?”

Neal’s face contorted in discomfort and Peter’s heart squeezed painfully.

“I d-drew the picture on the front…it’s of—”

“Shh! Don’t talk!” Peter snapped, furious that Neal was wasting his precious energy on small talk.

Neal opened his eyes and seemed to search for Peter’s gaze.

“But did you get it?” Neal asked quietly, his breathing becoming shallow.

Oh. Peter realized.

Neal wanted to talk to distract from his pain.

Peter tried to smile, “Yeah, I got it. Thanks. It was a nice miniature forgery mailed right to my hands as evidence.”

Neal huffed out a laugh, then instinctively reached for his wound, but ended up gripping Peter’s hand instead. Peter’s heart stopped a moment as Neal’s hand clutched his own, and he didn’t dare look into Neal’s eyes.

But Neal didn’t let go.

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet, Caffrey,” Peter said softly, almost fondly, “Why are you here?”

Neal didn’t answer.

Peter looked at Neal’s face to see he’d gone pale, eyes shut, face motionless.

“Neal!” Peter cried, then, “Elizabeth!!”

Elizabeth appeared with bandages, “I”m here. Let’s get him patched up.”

They worked together in tandem to control Neal’s bleeding and wrap his wound. No words were said as the couple tried their best to save the criminal that had wormed his way into their lives over the past two years. Finally, Neal’s color began to return to his face and his eyelashes fluttered.

Peter let out an enormous sigh of relief and sat back, leaning against the couch with exhaustion.

“Damn it, Neal,” he whispered, dropping his head into his hands.

This kid will be the death of me.

“Peter?”

“Hey, Neal,” Peter responded, “How are you feeling?”

Neal ignored his question, “Are you going to arrest me?”

Peter hadn’t even thought about that. He pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose.

“Yes. It’s my job. You walked–er—plopped right into my house.”

Neal grinned.

Peter stood. “I’m getting my handcuffs. But you can rest easy for now. I’m calling the hospital before I haul you in.”

Neal laughed, then groaned in pain again.

“Let me get you some Advil,” Elizabeth said, scurrying back to the kitchen.

Peter took another look at Neal laying on his floor and wondered how the hell this was his life? Housing wounded criminals? He shook his head in disbelief and then climbed the stairs wearily to grab his handcuffs. He didn’t want to arrest Caffrey when he was already down like this, but, the law was the law.

It pained Peter; Neal had such potential. He was so bright, so damn smart, and yet, he was in the throes of thievery and con artistry. If there was only a way Peter could convince him to use his power for good to…

“Join me!” he said in a deep voice, raising his hand a la Darth Vader

“Ugh,” Peter said, rubbing his eyebrows as he fished his cuffs out of his briefcase.

Except Neal would be joining me on the light side, not the dark.

Right?

He needed more sleep. This line of thinking was getting ridiculous.

He started back down the stairs, ready to have a conversation with Neal about reformation. Maybe they could work out a deal. Maybe Neal wouldn’t have to go to prison for as long, maybe Peter could—

But Neal was gone.

Only a large blood stain on his carpet remained.

I wish you’d stayed. Peter thought, collapsing on the couch, dropping the handcuffs to the floor. Peter was convinced he could show Neal how to be good. There was so much good in Neal already, Peter could see it as plain as the sun rising and falling each day.

If only you’d stayed.

[redwiccanrobin]

I have seen some people say that Trevor making Ian bottom is SA and I honestly don’t agree with that. But, I still have an issue with the way their sex life was dealt with that goes into my problem with Trevor and his relationship with Ian.

Throughout their entire relationship, Trevor downright refused to compromise with Ian. It’s his way or the highway. It’s “I don’t need your cisgender ass!” It’s pushing Ian into a relationship after Ian’s getting out of a previous disaster. It’s demanding that Ian understand the ins and outs of him, but refusing to do the same for him.

I’m not saying this to be cruel. I wanted to like Trevor. I wanted to be happy for Ian being with him. But I wasn’t and it broke my heart. Because, at the end of the day, Trevor just wasn’t good for Ian despite what some may say.

[sb-essebi]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you so much for tagging me @softest-punk !

Sooo I've tried not to talk about it because I'm famous for starting fics and never finishing and publishing them, but since the Sandman season 2 teaser I've been working hard on a nice dreamling throne sex PWP... I've got a lot written so hopefully I'll finish it soon-ish. Have a snippet!

(unsafe for tumblr. obviously.)

Dream’s words, spoken so heatedly, so earnestly, made Hob’s mouth go dry. Made him swallow hard when his gaze met Dream’s and he found his friend’s eyes black as night, twin stars burning hotly in place of pupils. So strange, so alien, and yet Hob could read them still, could see the eagerness and wanting and fire in them, the passion. He kissed Dream’s parted lips, hard and simple, arching into his touch, just happy to have found a match for his hunger in the single most important being in his life, arms wound tight around Dream’s neck and knees snugly bracketing Dream’s hips to keep him close, keep him there, keep him Hob’s. Dream kissed back with a fervour that might have frightened a smarter man, one hand on the back of Hob’s neck like an iron brand, every bit as possessive as Hob, and the other so playful on Hob’s cock, uncaring of Hob’s frustrated little sounds, of the needy jolts of his hips, obviously savouring those reactions along with Hob’s body, light clever fingers often just petting, just running along the length of him, toying with the foreskin, cupping his balls, blindly learning the shape of him.

I've been so distracted lately I've no idea who's been tagged already! Let's try @avelera @issylra @blueberrymffn and @wordsinhaled

I'd love to know what you guys are up to if you wanna play!