#finding stuff for this was. good lord. it was difficult

[thrumugnyr]

“I was now High Lord and could do what I wanted with trespassers threatening the peace of my lands. I claimed Lucien as my own—named him emissary, since he’d already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people, while I… can find it difficult. He’s been here ever since.” - ACOTAR, Chapter 18

Tamlin rescuing Lucien from his brothers. I thought about drawing this scene ever since I read it and wanting to make a gift for @yaralulu, who loves angsty stuff as much as I do, I finally took the time for it!

[loganficsonly]

an independent woman

˚₊‧⁺˖✮ ch 3: falling down ✮ ˖⁺‧₊˚

worst!logan x fem!reader, 3k

SUMMARY: As Logan learns to live instead of survive, he finds himself in the extremely dangerous position of sharing an apartment with you—Wade's friend. Extremely dangerous because Lord knows he can't keep his feelings a secret forever... not when your room is five steps away from his.

SERIES WARNINGS/TAGS: english is not my native language, no use of y/n, reader is a working adult (mid-late 20s) with a slightly written out personality, friends to roommates to lovers, slow burn, secret crushes, mentions of alcoholism and AA

CHAPTER WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+ MDNI smut in explicit dreams, domestic situations, attempts at writing sexual tension, reader gets clocked by logan, breaking the fourth wall, scent descriptions

AUTHOR'S NOTE: thinking of where the story would go after this chapter! might take a break and look at my inbox. please suggest story ideas if you have any <3 and thank you for reading + interacting with my work!!!

It’s Friday night. Laura will be over in an hour.

A look, and one would think you’re approaching this the way you do your job. There’s something about the way you weave yourself around the kitchen that is precise and methodical. What they wouldn’t know is that you view this as much more than just a professional responsibility.

Because Logan walks around with a hardened shell around him. Old, battered, and growing thorns with time. Witness to the difficult years he has been through, something to protect himself with lest—or is it to protect others from himself, you can’t decide. 

And that is exactly why when he asked if you could cook, you knew it was a request to be taken seriously.

He’s always been a quiet giver. So when the opportunity presents itself, you want to give back as much as you can. 

“You sure I can’t help?” Logan asks, looking almost like a dejected puppy as he watches you from his spot at the island.

You shake your head sternly. He said that as if he didn’t help at all. He went to the grocery store to get ingredients, washed and cut them up for you…

“You helped plenty,” you grit the words between your teeth, struggling with a stubborn jar of homemade barbecue sauce. Logan furrows his brows and approaches you, hand outstretched.

“Here, let me—”

You turn away from him, then twist. The lid opens with a loud, airy pop.

“Finally,” you sigh, grinning at him before continuing with your tasks.

You don’t see his frown deepen when he drops his hand.

Even as the sweet, slightly metallic scent of slow-cooked meat encourages his stomach to growl in anticipation, Logan can’t help but wonder if asking you to do this was not a good move after all.

Because he notices… things. About you. The initial guardedness when you were first introduced. Your outermost layer of professionalism, which he should have found repulsive, but instead was intrigued by. 

Constant kindness that hides a melancholy.

If anyone can clock a survival instinct from a mile away, it’s the man with a million of his own.

He was clued in by small, nearly negligible instances dotting the period of time you got to know each other. And now, that jar joins the rest of them as evidence, filed neatly in his head.

That is not to say you never accepted or asked for help. You actually reached out to him a few times today—more than he thought you would.

“Logan, I hate to bother, but could you pick up some onions? I forgot I needed them.” He was out the door and came back within fifteen minutes.

“If you wanna help, you can dice up the stuff for the guac?” Done. And he mixes them together for you after.

“I’m going to shower, could you keep an eye on the slow cooker?” Whatever you say, sweetheart, I’d do fucking sommersaults in the living room if you asked me to.

But with every assistance you receive, you shoot him a smile. Sweet and sheepish, like you feel bad for getting the extra hand. 

Survival instinct means you’re doing this out of self-preservation. From what, he doesn’t yet understand.

He watches as you hover over the slow cooker, fork in one hand. It’s too late to second-guess, because you’ve done it—you’ve cooked, and the kitchen smells amazing. He takes comfort in the small tasks you delegated to him earlier. If anyone understands how difficult it is to ask for help, it’s him. 

At least you asked. Had you insisted on handling everything yourself, he’d die. 

So when your eyes catch his, your hand beckoning him to come over, he’s by your side, three big steps traversing the little kitchen. You hold out the fork with some meat on it.

“Taste this for me?”

Without thinking, he leans down, capturing the utensil in his mouth. 

He nods. Hazel eyes widen just enough to see the light reflected in them. They snap to yours, and the moment freezes. Mere inches separate your face and his. Neither of you realized how close you are standing next to each other. 

“Good,” he rasps, “really good,” before pulling away to get some bowls from the top cabinet.

Laura arrives right on time with a big bag of tortilla chips and some salsa. 

“Nice place,” she says, looking around. “Smells great, too.”

“I hope you’ll like it,” you reply.

Logan emerges from the kitchen, a small smile on his face—the kind reserved just for her—before ushering her to the living room. There’s hushed conversation while you make one last adjustment to the fried rice and kill the flame on the stove. It has to be about AA. He went again on Wednesday, and out of the people who care for him, she’s undoubtedly the one who’s most proud.

You quietly approach the dining table, placing the skillet on a coaster. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Laura smiles, helping you with the pan. Logan stands up to get some plates and cutlery.

As the three of you eat, the low-hanging New York sun floods your apartment and the city beyond its windows with an orange hue.

If anyone even breathed ‘I’m proud of you’ one more time, Logan would respond with something along the lines of ‘shouldn’t have told you’. So you and Laura silently agree to not make this a big deal.

There is no fanfare—no streamers, party poppers, decoration—no need for it. Not when all of you are deeply aware of what the dinner is for, and not when the reason for the dinner is allergic to pomp.

The younger woman bites into some pulled pork, closing her eyes.

“You’re killing me here,” you complain good-naturedly, trying to study her reaction.

Laura nods, a small quirk of her lips the only other thing betraying her approval. Reminds you of her dad. “Wow. Good job.” 

“She made the sauce herself,” Logan adds quietly between bites. You didn’t expect him to chime in.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I got some left over, if you want.”

“Sweet, thanks,” she smiles.

It’s just dinner.

But what a good one it is. There’s soft music below your easy conversation, the backdrop of the city in sunset out the slightly open window. You ask about her studies, and how she’s holding up with her job. She asks about yours and Logan’s, while the latter contributes mostly in short sentences and grunts. A light breeze blows from time to time, keeping the three of you cool as evening begins to blanket.   

After the bowl of pulled pork is swiped clean and everyone’s stuffed, you and Logan give Laura a short tour of the unit. It’s your first time entering Logan’s bedroom since you moved in—and vice versa, actually—and you try to rein in your curiosity. It’s almost Spartan. You wonder what he thinks of your bedroom. 

Dessert came in the form of store-bought ice cream, and before you know it, Laura has to leave. 

“You’re not sleeping over?” You ask, seeing her to the door with Logan.

“Sorry, building event tomorrow morning. Resident assistant.” She shrugs.

In the end you bartered food with her: your homemade sauce and some leftover fried rice for the tortilla chips and salsa.

Laura pulls you into a hug. “Thank you for the food, it was great.”

“Anytime.” You pull away, and then it’s Logan’s turn, patting her on the back a few times.

“See you, kid.”

You give her one last wave down the hallway, watching her disappear into the lift before closing the door. The sink is running. Logan. For a man so burly, he sure can be sneaky. 

He feels rather than sees the disapproving look you shoot from behind him as he washes a plate. He lets his lip quirk.

“Told you I was gonna clean up.”

You move to stand next to him. A touch too close, but it’s too late to pull away—not like you want to.

“And I told you that dinner was for you.”

He looks at you like he’d have his hands on his hips if they weren’t soaked.

“Just let me do this, sweetheart.”

The staring competition that ensued lasts for about three seconds before you purse your lips, looking away. The nickname played a part in melting your resolve, something you hope he didn’t pick up on, but your feet remain planted where they are.

“Fine. I’ll dry them.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you stand side by side just like that. Him washing the stuff in the sink and giving each piece to you to dry. You stay next to him, cloth in hand, dutifully placing each item on the mounted rack above.

It’s hard not to be entranced by his hands as they move. They’re much larger than yours. That bowl he’s washing? You’d have to stretch your fingers wide to hold it in one hand, yet he does it effortlessly.

More than once in your innocent passing of tableware, your fingers brush against his. Fleeting touches aren’t new, what with the two of you being in each other’s space more since moving in, but there’s still that light jolt of electricity zipping through your nerves. You try to school your own heartbeat to a regular pace.

The crock pot is the last thing to go up. It’s heavier than you expected. As you lift it up, you sway backwards slightly.

“Hey—”

It lands on the rack a little harder than it should, causing a brief clang as it knocks the lined up plates.

His hand is at your lower back. Firm, cool, and slightly damp on the exposed skin, thanks to your t-shirt riding up.

Your eyes meet his.

“—careful,” he murmurs, voice low.  

Your lips part. “Thanks.”

Logan pulls away after the split-second exchange, vanishing down the hallway.

You stay where you are. The ghost of his touch lingers, and you swear you feel the miniscule beads of moisture he left on your skin, the drag of his calloused fingertips when he lets go…  

A heat travels up your spine. 

You bite your lip, returning to your room.

A week passes by quickly, then two, and before he could register it, May has reached its tail end. He’s been your roommate for nearly a month now.

He’s attended four AA meetings since moving in, each one easier than the last. He has faces and names memorized. Their stories, too. Soon he’ll recite the preamble by heart.

Three dinners with you, him, and Wade, like the old days. Althea declined when you invited her the first time, grateful for the extra peace away from a certain motor mouth. “Can’t fuckin’ see how you’ve done up the place anyway,” she added. 

Wade is, well, Wade. 

“You look good living in a house with a woman’s touch, peanut,” he pounces the moment you close the door to the bathroom, a gleam in his eye. “I’m not even mad that I’m being left out of the damn plot progression, just so there’s more screen time for the two of you before you finally fu—”

He snarls.

Two pieces of furniture assembled with you. The big bookshelf in the living room is one of them—he scolded you when you started without him. 

“Could’ve gotten yourself hurt.”

You sounded a little surprised at his distress.

“Logan, it’s an IKEA shelf. I can handle it.”

“Not saying you can’t, sweetheart, but it’d be faster if we both do it,” he rumbles, gently taking the wooden plank out of your hands.  

You were quiet. A silent acquisition that he’s right. You gave him that look again as you said your thanks, and a part of him melted inside.

So far, only one movie night with you. And it’s happening right now. 

It’s not like the ones at Wade’s. Rambunctious, themed, sometimes a little too centered around his tastes. Tonight wasn’t even planned. You somehow found out that he hasn’t ever watched the 2005 Pride and Prejudice—or any of the other adaptations for that matter—and you really want him to watch it.

Deciding it’s only fair that he makes you watch something too, he submits Casablanca as tribute. You accepted with a level of amusement, teased him a bit for the choice. 

“Didn’t peg you to be the romantic type.”

“Wait till you see it.”

A simple coin toss determined that the two of you will watch Casablanca first.

Which is the reason why he’s pouring popcorn into a bowl. The brand you bought for the usual movie nights is quickly becoming his favorite.

He hears you exit the bathroom with a content sigh, evidently just finished with your shower. You’re in your usual t-shirt and shorts, smelling like the greatest temptation known to man. 

Almost thirty days into this living arrangement with you, he’s thankful that the two of you have a semblance of life outside the shared apartment. Both you and him work overtime occasionally. He has AA and Laura, you like to take walks and meet friends.

If he spent more time at home, there would be no way he could keep himself in check.

His wits are still intact, albeit barely.

That scent. He thought he’ll get used to it. Even read the back of the bottle to familiarize himself with what lingers after each shower. Knowing will make the novelty wear off faster, right?

Wrong. Instead, he’s cursed to learn the exact ingredients perfuming your skin. They’re basically the same fucking stuff pastries are made of.

Warm vanilla. As if he doesn’t already struggle with the urge to eat you up.

“Is it on?” you ask about the television, carding your fingers through slightly damp hair as you walk towards the couch. Shit, don’t even get him started on your shampoo. 

“Should be,” he says, not meeting your eye, “just press play.”

You wait for him to sit next to you before pushing the button on the remote, a bowl of popcorn between your thigh and his. A pathetic barrier preventing your bare thigh from brushing against his sweats, as easy to discard as his ever eroding restraint.

As the old-timey Warner Brothers logo comes on, he recalls the conversation you had with him about the movie. You seem to be thinking about the same thing.

“You said you watched this in theaters?”

“Had to. This girl I was seein’ dragged me,” he answers, popping a kernel in his mouth. 

“And you liked it enough to recommend it to me?” you reply playfully. He smirks, eyes glued to the screen.

“More that I liked her, yeah.”

You let out a surprised laugh.

“Brutal.”

He’s telling the truth, though, because as the TV screen flashed montages of the opening sequence, he can’t for the life of him remember anything about the girl he went out with. Not her hair color, not her body, not her voice. Another shadow lost in a long past. 

The only girl he can think about is the one sitting next to him.

It’s warm. You stir under the sheets.

There’s a comfort that clings onto you, melting you deeper into the mattress. A soothing scent. Breaths on the back of your neck. That’s when you know the heat isn’t from the weather.

It’s him.

You hum as your body temperature begins to hike up, the aftereffect of phantom caresses on your bare arms, moving to your waist, up your shirt. You welcome it. Limbs wrapping around your torso, pulling you into a strong chest. Parted lips pressed on your neck, light brushes of a beard, a low baritone rumble.  

The warmth feels good—not like the cloying humidity of June, but coaxing. Inviting.  

Shifting, you feel the presence kissing your ear, making you loll your head to the side. A hand slips between your knees. You let out a soft sigh, recognizing the touch.

As heat blooms in your core, you let your forehead drop to his shoulder, murmuring against sweat-misted skin. You know this sensation. Have wanted this for so long, buried it under the guise of decency. But it comes back with a vengeance and there’s no escape.

So you let it. 

Fingers comb through your hair as if trying to soothe you, but you don’t need to be lulled more.

It feels so good, the haze in your mind whispers. He feels so good. 

Your breath hitches when his mouth slots against yours, deep kisses leaving you dizzier than you already are. Hands clasp onto his biceps, and as if replying, the fingers in your hair tug, exposing more of your neck to him. 

Then teeth, dragging languidly down the expanse of your throat before digging in just a little…

A sound escapes you, something between a whimper and a mewl. The sensation in your core blooms brighter, his fingers toying with you, brushing against your folds. You feel a smile on your skin.

He slowly, excruciatingly feeds his digits inside you. You cry out. There’s a pleased hum in your ear while you writhe underneath him, desire flooding your veins.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

When you open your eyes, you look straight into hazel ones.

Logan.

Your alarm blares, and you wake up sweating under the sheets, eyes wide. The erratic pounding of your heart against your ribcage makes your chest heave like you’d run a mile in your sleep, the sound of blood pumping loud in your ears. Ignoring your alarm, you touch your neck.

You can still feel him.

Swallowing, you sense the slick between your legs, warm and uncomfortable. Arousal, as real as the morning sun rising outside. 

Scenes replay in your head, more sensory than visual. The way his hand buries itself in your hair, arms snaked around your torso, mouth against your ear...

Look at me, sweetheart—    

You exhale shakily, reaching out to finally turn off the alarm, a hand over your flushed face.

You just dreamed of Logan.

taglist: @squishyfruitloop @britttzy267 @tezooks @ddwnghead @dear-detested @duckyyyx

next chapter

[jd-loves-fiction]

Appears in your askbox again like a plague

Same platonic premise with Boothill, Blade and Gallagher but reader gets kidnapped by their previous captors (reader is a former slave) in the heat of conflict

🌑honeypop if your requests are a plague I wanna be sick 😭 CRIIINGE also this got so angsty good lord 💀

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

PanicpanicPANIC

He's never shot people so quick, get space Guiness we've got a record

Getting rid of anyone who gets in his way without a second thought nor a moment wasted - he's never felt more like a machine

He just wants-- no, he needs you to be safe or he might go crazy from the guilt

He was supposed to protect you, he promised

He'd never forgive himself if you got hurt on his watch

So he's shooting people like it's going out of style, quickly tracking your captors down and making his way to you

You'd best look away when he finds them... He's not exactly a merciful man when it comes to his enemies

When he finally gets to you - he doesn't experience adrenaline anymore but - his head is spinning

He's approaching you carefully, doing his best to speak softly and try to make you laugh, so you know you're safe now

He'll swear to you again that this will never happen again

Utterly heartbroken that due to his metal body, he can no longer even give you a hug as comfort :(

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Another one panicking, except it's slightly different

Because of the mara he can't let himself be consumed by his panic and anger because he might end up hurting - the LAST thing he wants

But my god is it difficult to stay calm

He's lost too many people already and we've seen what he's willing to do to bring them back

He's rampaging to your side while trying not to lose himself to the mara

Hope you dont mind him making sure they can never do this stuff again because he's not holding back on the fuckers once he finds them

His rage overtakes his concern to the point that he becomes so focused on paying them back that he only remembers why he's doing this after they're all dead

Immediatly rushes to your side after calming himself down - god forbid he sees even a sliver of fear in your eyes when looking at him or be might throw up

Terrible at expressing his concern, at least verbally, so with your consent he's holding you gently and carrying you to safety - silently comforting in the way he usually is, with an edge of anger and guilt this time

But if you dont want him near you for the time being, he'll be heartbroken but undertanding, though he'll still stay close to your when he can as a means of protection - he just cant let this happen ever again

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Nonchalant no more

All the way chalant, he's freaking the fuck out

True guard dog, genuinely surprised someone got past him since he tries his best to keep an eye on you during fights - clearly he needs to try harder

Tries his best to stay calm in order to focus on getting to you but man it's hard to do

No matter what you are the priority, but he really wants to mess up the people who dared do this again

Tell him you want revenge please and he's hunting them down to the ends of the galaxy

But if you tell him to drop it, he will - you're absolutely his priority, even if he really wants to rip those people to shreds

With his skill set it wont be too difficult to find you and get to you, quickly and efficietly taking care of anyone in his way

When he finds you, he's quick to read the room to figure out what you need

Space? You got it, he'll just stand a little to the side so he can still protect you

Revenge? No need to ask him twice, he's on it

A hug? 🥺He might cry, of course you can have a hug

He's a pretty heartfelt guy but he's got a good head on his shoulders so he understands that this was not his fault but his heart still aches for you

Let's you sit by him at the bar as he works; cracking jokes and teachin you a few bartending tricks to get your mind off things. At least until he can be sure that it wont happen again

[artytaeh]

what slytherin boy is best at which subjects?

WHAT ARE THE SLYTHERIN BOY'S FAVORITE, LEAST FAVORITE AND BEST SUBJECTS? ── 𖤐

. 𖥔 ࣪˖ that's a great question, anon! thank you for sending something interesting for me to write about. i gave it some thought─although it's, obviously, totally up for debate. if you have a different opinion, please tell me about it!

mattheo riddle tries so hard to beat allegations. but he can't! it's difficult to grasp mattheo's interest, so he definitely finds defense against the dark arts interesting, even though he denies it. come on, the dark lord's son being a DADA enthusiast? hogwarts would have a field day with assumptions and ridiculous rumors. mattheo thinks that the dangerous part is related to adrenaline, and a competitive sense of who's strong enough to survive it. besides, most of the DADA professors he had allured mattheo. especially moody and lupin. umbridge ruined it for him, though. mattheo also somewhat likes charms, because he gets to use new spells. mattheo would like potions a little more if it was more about mixing and cutting stuff than decorating a lot of things.

worst subject: whatever classes that are full theory and less practical activity. which means that history of magic is his absolute nightmare; boring, fully theoric, no enthusiasm, nothing to do with his hands. even herbology and transfiguration are a little more fun.

theodore nott is a good student. a lot of logic and studying that hopefully, buys him some peace at home with his father and less meetings with the man's cane. even though he's one of the best at potions, usually paired up with the unluckiest ones to balance the damage, theo's favorite class is astronomy. his favorite stories were the ones that his mother would tell him about constellations, how they were named like that and their link with greek mythology. astronomy is something that reminds him of his mother for many, many reasons. besides, it's an excuse for theo to stay up until later, and deny that it's purely out of the boredom that comes with insomnia. they're not his favorite classes, but theodore occasionally enjoys arithmancy, ancient runes and charms; theodore is very good at spellcasting.

worst subject: divination. theo thinks that it's a load of bullshit; the type of scam that a muggle could pull off. theodore doesn't believe a thing that goes out of trelawney's mouth; if she said that the sky is blue, theo would second-guess it. or perhaps he hated how she read in tea leaves something about theodore damaging his own future by his incapability of properly coping with his mother's loss... yeah, he's still bitter about her unprompted guess during his third-year.

lorenzo berkshire tries to pretend he enjoys the 'cool' subjects to fit in. ultimately fails and the group somewhat jokes that enzo is into girly subjects; that liking herbology so much makes him a wrongfully placed slytherin and maybe he should join the badgers. so he tries to somehow save his reputation—excusing his interest to be into the venomous and terrible magical plants. yeah, right. enzo actually thinks they're fucking nasty; the devil's snare? get that out of his sight. enzo just really enjoys interesting plants that would make his garden the most interesting museum. he's also intrigued by the language of flowers; it's a romantic language to speak and a knowledge he eats up with more enthusiasm than the advanced extra classes that theodore and blaise take. with the exception of herbology, enzo also really likes muggle studies — in lorenzo's eyes, it's very interesting how muggles exist without magic, and sometimes sneaks in muggle london to experience that different lifestyle by himself.

worst subject: beasts' class. for some reason, he's unlucky—or maybe most creatures just know that lorenzo berkshire isn't the most trustworthy pure-hearted snow white in hogwarts. maybe his previous bad experiences had a small fear within lorenzo, that some creatures take as a chance to target lorenzo specifically. but hey, at least he attracts a bunch of pretty witches!

for draco malfoy, we have canon insight about his preferences. where he shows good behavior and interest in potions, draco shows a lack of interest, impoliteness and lack of care for subjects like divination, care of magical creatures and defense against dark arts—when it was remus lupin teaching the subject. what i mean to say here is, draco's favoritism swings back and forth depending on the professor; if he respects the wizard slash witch who's teaching the subject, then draco will make an effort to be an extra good student at that. if he doesn't find interest, feel respect or think that the professor is 'ridiculous', then draco won't sympathize with the subject either. because he's somewhat close to snape, draco perhaps enjoyed potions even more.

that being said, his favorite subject is potions. on the other hand, his worst subject is anything that's related to interacting with living beings; draco doesn't have the slightest patience to conquer a beast's heart, much less to wait for a feral plant to grow accordingly.

blaise zabini is a tricky one. in canon, we only ever saw blaise playing quidditch as a chaser and being one of the best students of advanced potion's class. that, however, cannot mean that much—blaise sparks me as a good student because he values good grades, pretty much like theodore and draco do, albeit for different reasons. i feel like blaise would take pride on knowing a little more than the others, a small sense of superiority that gives him an excuse to be a bit arrogant — within reason, of course. ancient runes is a subject that fits students who enjoy puzzle-solving type of challenge, and blaise likes the knowledge that he has a more open vocabulary/ability to read less known books. it takes analyzing the context and some interpretation, which blaise thinks to be pleasantly challenging. after potions, i'd say that this is a rivaling number one for him.

simultaneously, detests arithmancy. blaise knows that theo is good at it, but he personally thinks that it's confusing—for someone who enjoyed ancient runes. it's in this type of matters that blaise understood that he's more of a language-reading-writing oriented type of wizard, rather than the whole mathematical calculations one.

✰ tom riddle is an exception here. in canon, it's said that he was a model student, remembered for his academic excellence. while i do think that tom had subjects that he cared and was more excited for—like potions, charms, and very specifically defense against the dark arts, which knowledge he was hungry for—tom thought that all the subjects were important.

even divination could be a higher form of study that tom could need someday. tom needed charms to form horcruxes, transfiguration is a helpful thing for a wizard to know how to safely (and successfully accomplish), and even herbology along with beast's class offered insight of how to use the living beings that surround him for his benefit.

again, his highest interest were the dark arts. i think that tom was unashamedly curious and would find ways to sneak into the restricted section of hogwarts castle's library to further feed his curiosity. definitely used his status as a head boy to achieve those late night reading sessions to his advantage—probably, he sought to fill that role for that precise reason.

[geopsych]

The reason I saw those red-winged blackbirds out back and I saw the snipe in the park the other day is that much of the marsh by the park has been destroyed and when I went down there I saw a bulldozer and a huge dump truck loudly destroying the hill next to it, what I used to call Fox Hill because whatever vixen had a den nearby would hunt there among the grasses, weeds and shrubs for the abundant mice and voles, to support the kits in her womb and then in the den. Along with everything else that's going on, the loss of the red-wings in that spot where I've seen them for all these years and possibly the loss of a viable fox population in the woods at the park (the woods now bought by the borough so they can "improve" it) it's all making me incredibly sad. I used to love glimpsing foxes, especially seeing the young ones playing. I counted on hearing the red-wings there every February. But it also made me think of something I wanted to say here. Everybody probably knows I support people of various genders and preferences. I hope everyone knows I support trans people and count a number of trans people as my friends.

But more than that I want to say that I also support and love people who are messes, including people who can't decide what gender they are but also including people who can't get out of bed in the morning, people who other people consider ugly or overweight, people who can't get their acts together, people who struggle with disabilities and those who are just sad and lonely, people who think of themselves as writers or artists or musicians but can't bring themselves to do the thing. And of course the people whose minds are always on their blorbos.

Do you know how much I would rather share this world and this life with you than with the business assholes and the people who lord it over everyone with their work ethic or their beauty or their fitness or their money or whatever? Yes, we need people who get things done but we also need regular people to just be regular people with. I feel this so strongly! Life is really hard right now for a lot of people. It's difficult just to face each day even if your circumstances at home and work haven't changed, because of the stuff we're hearing on a regular basis. Meanwhile things like what's happening at the park or other bad things we want to rave about or mourn for keep happening and we hardly feel like we have room to react the way we need to in this environment of constant horror. Our personal horrors and griefs get overwhelmed by the news and we don't get to process them. So it's really okay if you find it hard to live in this world. It's really okay if you're not living up to other people's or even your own standards. I know you want a happier life and I want that for all of us but it's hard to see the way there when it feels like everything's being torn down. The thing where they had to go in and shoot thousands of snow geese in the quarries here plus the bulldozing of the marsh and the hill next to the park and the purchasing of the woods aren't big things in the context of the world but those were things that helped me feel like there were good things around me. Now I feel like anything might be next, nothing is safe. I think a lot of people feel that way right now. Sending you hugs if wanted. <3 I'm glad you're here!

[moodymisty]

Tumblr most likely ate it. It’s always doing stuff like that 🙄 But the request was a gender neutral reader where reader was captured and Guilliman had to choose between them and the imperium and it turns out fluffy.

Author's Note: Hey! Sorry for tumblr eating your request and taking so long, I hope this is at least somewhat worth it. I feel like given circumstances him choosing to abandon the Imperium isn't an realistic option for him, but I did what i thought would make a good compromise.

Relationships: Roboute Guilliman/Gn!Reader

Warning: Nothing really

Every astartes in the room can hear the metal of the Guilliman’s Armour Of Fate tighten and groan as he squeezes his fists; Even such meticulously designed armor is unable to stay completely unyielding against the full strength of a primarch.

“And what,” Guilliman turns to his men with a fierce gaze, one that can falter all but a few of them. “You just expect me to leave them behind?”

Sicarius looks at him stoic, as always. It makes Guilliman angrier, to not even see a hint of emotion on the man’s face. As if he has no understanding or no care as to what he just implied Guilliman do.

"The Macgragge’s Honour is needed in defense as a Tyranid hive fleet moves towards Imperium space, we can stay here no longer. Not for one person.”

One person. That one person had been the only guiding light in his life for months now, your smile is the only thing that makes him believe that perhaps his endless, tiring, tortuous work means something. He has a thing to work for; His life with you.

Guilliman keeps his face and lips tight, and only parts them to hiss out:

“Your Imperium can wait for a moment longer.”

Sicarius straightens up, even more than the rigid posture he had previous.

“Are you suggesting you would ignore a call for aid from the imperium if your consort was in danger? You would abandon all that your father has made to xenos?”

Guilliman opens his mouth. The rage he wants to spew- about his insult to you, the implication that the Emperor is his father, it is all only quelled when his vox device crackles to life.

“Lord Primarch! We found them! We’re returning to the dropship now.”

Guilliman swears he nearly feels his heart explode from hearing those words. That you’ll be safe and with him soon.

He turns to Sicarius, who is still hot in the face from Guilliman’s implications of abandoning the broader Imperium. Guilliman can see the red heat underneath his tan, olive skin.

“You best remember the words you’ve said here. I will the next time you find yourself calling for aid.”

Guilliman would never consider himself petty. But he would find it difficult to not remember this conversation if Sicarius or his men were ever in need of similar treatment as you. Perhaps he would never act upon it, but he will always remember.

With haste he struggles to remember a time he used last he makes his way to where you've been brought aboard the Macragge's honour; Bruised and cut but not much worse for wear. They've already brought this planet and it's denizens to heel, but if they had more time he would consider far worse for what they've done to you. Your wrists are still clearly raw from being chained, something that makes him grind his teeth when he notices.

But Sicarius was at least partly correct; They are needed to protect against a tyranid hive fleet, and can stay no longer.

Guilliman quickly gestures for his men to leave you both alone, and they do without pause, leaving you and him alone in the hanger in which you both stand.

Once they're gone the primarch falls to his knee with ease, and his armoured hands rise to cup your face.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you are unharmed."

His hands hold your face tightly, covering your jaw with how large they are compared to you. You smile weakly. You must be tired, but your eyes are still so bright, and your smile feels like it warms his cold, old heart.

"I'm so glad to be back with you. And I imagine you'll be better company than my captors," His face stiffens up, but he's still soft.

"You shouldn't be joking about this, you could've been killed."

You raise a hand to hold against his own gauntlet- a gesture he can feel a ghost of despite having no skin on skin contact - before reaching forward to tuck a piece of limp blonde hair behind his ear. He needs a bath, his hair is messy and limp from being in his helmet so often, but now isn't the time to say.

"You do enough of the seriousness for me. I need to balance it out; For both our sake." Guilliman shakes his head and lets out a defeated laugh.

"They wanted to leave you behind. I was considering saying damn it all to this worthless Imperium just to go get you myself." You can't contain your surprise. The Imperium is all you've ever known, how could anyone just leave it all behind?

"You're the Lord Regent, you would abandon the Imperium for-"

"I would, yes." He says with no hesitation, looking right at you. "I have no interest in saving an Imperium without you in it." He ends the conversation with that, and moves to pick you up.

"Lets go. I want to make sure you are well."

You can't make a fuss; He's made up his mind and you have no choice but to go along, holding on and relaxing in his arms as he walks off.

[starsworldd]

astro observations pt. 11

reminder that readings are open! 💕

take with a grain of salt! only take what resonates

comment below what you wanna see next :)

🩵 having taurus and capricorn in the big 6 can indicate someone who is very smart and doesn’t take bs (a little bit brisk and direct when it comes to social stuff too)

❤️ cancer and capricorn placements on the big 3/6 tend to have long squarish/oval faces

🩵 capricorn placements are good at songwriting

❤️ another good songwriting placement im noticed is having your 3rd house ruler in the 1st (this using whole signs but ex: lana del rey, britney spears, lorde)

🩵 cancer risings are not just protective, sensitive, etc… jupiter is exalted in cancer so cancer natives are usually pretty joyous and interesting people to talk to too (like sagittarius rising honestly)

❤️ 12th house ruler retrograde = night owl?? or someone who delays going to sleep

🩵 scorpios and saggitarius suns are so similar in my experience and just the signs in general they’re just similar somehow

❤️ 4th house ruler in 7th house can indicate living in pairs when younger? i feel like this is actually a pretty difficult placement for a child just because the 7th house is about equality and sharing and so the child may have had to take on several responsibilities or compromises in order to maintain a peaceful/functional home

🩵 taurus and libra in the big 3 have such aesthetically pleasing faces😭 especially the nose?? but i don’t think there’s any evidence to back up the nose part

❤️ leo and scorpio in the big 3/6 🤝 anger issues + getting-over-emotional-and-acting-immaturely because-of-it issues

🩵 people who have their 8th house ruler in the 3rd can really dread school

❤️ uranus in the 10th or close to mc can be really provocative people especially sexually i’ve noticed

🩵 i’ve noticed loads of famous people have their 5th house ruler in the 11th (using whole signs) madison beer, elvis presley, mariah carey, etc…

❤️ sagittarius risings are lucky but also having cancer in their 8th house is not a pretty placement. a lot of sagittarius risings can have family issues or can struggle to find support from others

🩵 gemini mars are so good at comebacks, they’re so sassy

❤️ leo and sagittarius risings are good storytellers i find, it seems like they have such chaotic lives lol

🩵 sun-uranus people are leaders and can be assertive when they need to be. bosses af

❤️ people who have all 3 modalities in their big 3 can mesh with so many different types of people

🩵 it’s difficult having planets in the 7th because it feels like you see that energy in everybody else but yourself. case and point, i thought a girl was aries sun/rising but it turns out she just had mars in her 7th house lol. astrologers, feel free to tell me what you think about this observation because i’m not entirely sure on how accurate this is to the actual meaning of the 7th house but i think it can def make sense with what the 7th house deals with

❤️ aries moons 🤝 leather jackets

hope you enjoyed!

[bookjonsadaily]

can you recommend some book jonsa fanfics? Not really that many on going in ao3

Hey anon!!!

Here are some more recs for you!!

the first are from nepobabyeurydice:

if you try to break me you will bleed by @dialux

time travel fic with Sansa, but it’s always the first fic I recommend to friends because the development of Jon and Sansa’s relationship from her holding all the cards, to him swearing herself to her, and then Sansa letting him see the whole deck is genuinely beautiful to read!

love exists in many forms by @dialux

In which Alayne Arryn, only daughter of Jon Arryn, commits suicide after her father dies in a failed attempt at rebellion, and her handmaiden, Sansa Stone, pretends to be her when faced with death. Sansa arrives at King’s Landing and finds herself betrothed to Prince Jon Targaryen; but their relationship is complicated by old secrets, new loves, and treason.

my head is bloody and unbowed by sadhippe

In which Robb’s baby survives, Sansa never marries Ramsay, and Jon is held captive at Dragonstone. Also more Tully’s and other Northern Conspiracy Faves!

and recs from visenyashill, who is going to do one of longer fic when they have the time and energy to actually read fic in a little bit, so these are mostly one shots-

in the midst of the ruins by iday

jonsa fic, post war for the dawn. while living out his days out of sight and out of mind, jon gets a raven from winterfell with only two words: "come home." so he does. brienne and podrick are also there. very cute, contained little story, and an older jonsa fic.

varg-hamr/wolfskin by undercovercaptain

this one gets rec-ed a lot but for good reason! a take on jon's ressurection and sansa as the girl in gray that i think is well done and also roughly what i predict will happen (leaving room for some crazy grrm-ness tho, obviously)

saw you in the snow by sleepingwithwolves

another girl in gray esque take but with bran coming to sansa in a weirwood dream as well as jon. i love this one a lot, i you will see i have a weakness for jonsa fic that features another starkling.

no smooth road by maybethrice

rickon pov where jon and sansa recall him from hiding on skagos when he’s twelve, to be the new lord of winterfell. it’s a “dany stops the long night” canon and i like it for delving into the difficult tie of the political situation.

ghosts by sansawolfbits

jon travels to the vale to meet with the lord protector and finds someone he didn't expect. very short but cute also myranda cameo.

i lost all signs so i got lost by tempisfugit

The five people who wanted Sansa for who she reminded them of and the one who just wanted her.

stealing by just_a_dram

jon steals sansa. this is the first jonsa fic i ever read and this author was super prolific with book canon jonsa in like....2016? ish? so if you're looking for book canon stuff, I would definitely start here!

a boy in his cups by greenhikingboots

a re-imagining of jon's first chapter in agot where he knows the truth of who he is and drunkenly proposes to sansa.

a stark in winterfell

it's not super romantic, more tortured than anything, about sansa needing an heir and seducing jon snow - and neither of them know about his true parentage.

[cultkinkcoven]

TW: NSFW Minors DNI

Did another automatic writing session with Lord Lucifer again yesterday. I had just come in from biking outside and feeding the crows, and was going to take a shower because I was all sweaty, but he stopped me and suggested I try a session, said he wanted to tell me something. He was being very... difficult. Maybe difficult is not the right word because I entered into trance and channeled him with ease. Difficult as in uncooperative, or teasingly disruptive. I again sat with my eyes closed and let him do the writing through my left hand. He was a lot less careful with his strokes and I again suspected the result would be archaic. Idk how to really explain this but feeling his force flow through my hands, and allowing it or resisting it, moving with it, it feels really good. Like playing with a magnetic field, so so subtle but there.

Like last time I didn't actually end up reading these until like hours later because he ended up occupying me and then I got up to other stuff. When I did eventually read this,

I mean it makes sense based on the vibes he was giving me at the time and his behavior, having not known what he was writing. But.

It's so explicit??? omg?

,, ok,

This possession thing has come up multiple times now. uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hm . hmmmmmmmm. hm.

So for context at the end there when he refers to “multitasking” that was because he stopped writing for a minute, and I was waiting. Then he typed something else, assumably “what are you waiting for? this machine is lame, let me touch something warm”- but I hadn’t read that. In my head I heard him tell me to uh , start jerking it. so like lol

He had control of my left hand still, and I was yknow doing things with my right hand.

so reading that now in retrospect is really cool but also really weird.

It took me a bit longer to get back into it once I locked back in to flip the paper around, maybe like an hour or so. We were kind of ? communicating silently just like, in my head if that makes sense, and we got onto the topic of names, his name and my name. And then he started typing.

When he’d written all he wanted to say, his -or I guess my- hand went to my body. And it was this very interesting thing of feeling like someone else was touching me. I kind of gave him more control and , well I assume you can imagine the rest. Worth noting, I can’t and don’t really jerk off well with my left hand lmao sooo having my hand move like that was extremely interesting. One of those things that would make me shit my pants if I wasn’t so desensitized to this stuff.

This is.,. something

this thing we're doing, "mini possession" as he calls it. Hm. I can't find the bottom line yet but there is something there. It has something to do with priesthood, something something, the words aren't coming to me right now. Maybe I'll ask him.

[ashlgcostumes]

I wrote this elsewhere for someone who was struggling to find information, and then realised it was probably relevant to many other people too, so I’ve expanded it a bit. Therefore I present;

Which boning do I want? A guide

Flat steel; flat steel flexes front and back, not side to side. Heaviest option. Pricy. Difficult to cut and finish (will tear holes in your project if you leave raw edges). Expect bolt cutters and a metal file, or faffing around with “tipping liquid” which may or may not be illegal to post in your country (Nail polish is only a temporary alternative in my experience). Will last a million years. Extremely robust shaping. If you want to hold up an entire garment on 3 bones; flat steel. DO NOT WASH (I’m not your real dad but also it does corrode eventually if you keep getting/leaving it wet)

Lot of people swear that even if you use different bones everywhere else, you want flat steel next to your eyelets. Personally; eh. This appears to be convention rather than based in solid evidence (bunch of extant Victorian corsets don’t have steel by the eyelets, some do, a lot we don’t actually know). Go with your heart and your wallet, especially for special occasion pieces

Spiral steel: flexes side to side as well as front to back. Lighter than flats (in theory). Pretty robust and long lived. Easier to cut than flat (still metal, still bolt cutters), but made of wire, basically, so you have to buy metal end caps and fit every single one with pliers. Cheaper than flat steel. Generally agreed to be more comfortable than flat steel but again. Still metal. DO NOT WASH NO REALLY I MEAN IT THIS TIME this stuff loves corrosion

A lot of modern corsets are a mix of flat and spiral and they will tell you that’s for flexibility but it’s usually for budget

Zip ties: cheap and they work, pretty much, but mainly cheap, extremely variable in thickness/size/flexibility, did I mention cheap? Don’t buy random ones online; you want to handle them and be sure they’re the size/rigidity you’re after (or even just feel good about. Some zip ties are incredibly flimsy. Heavy duty ones tend to also be thicc). Generally washable, but with highly variable results

Rigilene/other generic plastic boning: wafers of flimsy plastic. Surprisingly expensive and won’t hold up to a stiff breeze. Disappointment city. Washing sometimes also kills it? When people whine about plastic boning, this is what they’re thinking of

“Synthetic whalebone”: really fancy plastic. Consistent width/thickness/rigidity. Several options of width usually. Very light. Good balance of support and flexibility. Can cut with heavy duty scissors and finish with a nail file. Mouldable with heat. You gotta buy a lot at once, but not ultimately expensive in comparable amounts (big rolls, per metre, more cost effective than heavy duty zip ties; but are you gonna use 50 metres of boning?). Washable in a way steel just isn’t; must warn you that the whole “mouldable with heat” thing also means “very occasionally the tumble dryer kills one of my kirtles and I have to dig out a bone and replace it”

Synthetic whalebone means adjusting the way you think about boning a bit; one bone is not as strong as a flat steel. That doesn’t mean (as I’ve seen some people say) you can’t use synthetic whalebone if you’re fat; it means you’re going to want two, three or four bones side by side to do the same job. This is exactly what people did with real whalebone (good lord if you’re making 18th century stays or equivalent don’t use steel, it’ll be so heavy and uncomfortable). You can even put two bones in the same channel stacked on top of each other if you make it big enough. You tend to use more of it than you would steel, but it still usually works out cheaper - the “extra boning” channels thing only really comes into play for aesthetics (it is COMPLETELY FINE to pick the more expensive and difficult option for aesthetics and anyone who tells you otherwise is a coward)

[ethereal-writes]

Toy Jail (Ft. Lucifer and GN! MC)

Warnings: Romantic relationship

Length: 0.8k words

Genre: Fluff, slight hurt/comfort

Summary: You're sick of everyone leaving their stuff in your room.

A/N: Whoah! First fic in how long? What’s even more wild, I wrote this and am posting it on the same day! And even wilder? It’s Lucifer centric! I’m super excited to start posting again.

As always, if I’ve missed any warnings, please feel free to let me know! Enjoy!

-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer sighed, hanging up his coat. He had finally made it back to the House of Lamentation after a long day of the usual nonsense.

The day had started off relatively calm. He’d spent the first part of his morning in your room, working on his paperwork. His own desk was entirely covered in papers he had yet to even start, so working there would have been virtually impossible. Besides, he didn’t mind spending time with you anyway.

Then it had all gone downhill. He’d been forced to intervene in his brother’s shenanigans once again when he started hearing explosions from the kitchen— they had been trying to follow a recipe exploding cheesecake. Seriously? Why had they thought that was a good idea in the first place?

After he’d dealt with that, Lord Diavolo contacted him, letting know he had some more work for him to pick up. So, off Lucifer had gone to pick it up. At least these papers wouldn’t need to be high on his priority list.

He arrived back home just in time to diffuse a massive brawl between Levi and Mammon. Something about Mammon selling off some of Levi’s figurines or posters or some…sort of anime paraphernalia that had nearly resulted in Levi summoning Lotan.

 By the time that had all been dealt with, he had just enough time to wrangle his brothers into looking vaguely presentable before shoving them all out the door in order to make it to the student council meeting.

Now he was home, exhausted, and he still hadn’t finished the damn papers he’d left on your desk. He made it to your door, knocking three times and waiting until he heard you call for him to come in.

You were sitting on your bed, doing the last few bits of homework you’d been assigned before the weekend. You offered him a smile. “Hey, how was your day?”

He hesitated at your slightly off tone but decided he didn’t have the energy to figure it out right now. “Very long, my love. And unfortunately, still not over.” He turned to the desk to return to his papers…but they weren’t there anymore. He turned to you with a quizzical look. “Have you seen the papers I left here?”

“Your papers?” A slightly…smug look came over your face. “Yes, I have.” You gestured to a plastic tub in the corner of the room, which, sure enough, contained the stack of documents.

“Ah, thanks.” He went to go retrieve them but paused when you held up your hand.

“Ah, ah,” you said, standing up. You gestured to the box. “Your papers are in toy jail.”

“Toy jail?” He repeated. He glanced at the tub, seeing the label on it. “…what does that mean?”

“It’s a common punishment in the human world. When a child leaves their toys out where they aren’t supposed to, their toys get put into a box, or “toy jail”. To earn them back, usually they have to do some sort of chore. I got so sick of everyone leaving their stuff here I decided to implement something similar in my room.”

Lucifer huffed. He really didn’t have the time nor energy to deal with this today…though he couldn’t help but find it a little endearing. “So…you’re punishing me like a child?”

You nodded.

He sighed in mostly false annoyance. “You’re saying that I…the Avatar of Pride, the eldest, one of the most powerful demons in hell…may not retrieve my paperwork from a plastic tub in your room…because you said so…because this is how children are punished in the human world.”

You finally looked up from your homework to give him a smirk. “Uh-huh.”

He groaned, though it was really difficult to pretend to be annoyed when you were looking at him like that.

“And…what is it you’re asking me to do in exchange for their…” bail”?” He asked. He took a seat beside you on the bed, leaning back slightly to look down at you.

“I want to watch a movie with you and order takeout.”

“I…huh?” He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting you to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. “Out of everything you could ask…that is what you want?”

You nodded. A slight frown tugged at your lips. “Yeah. You’ve been so busy lately, you’re overworking again. And…I feel like I haven’t spent time with you in a while. I miss you.”

Oh.

Well, that softened him up immediately, and the guilt pulled at his heart. “…it…has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, I’m just…terribly busy…”

You nodded. “No, no, I know. But…I finished the paperwork you left here while you were gone. It was pretty easy, just…really…really tedious. So…can you maybe spend the rest of the night with me?” You asked hopefully.

Well…he definitely couldn’t say no to that. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to lean against him. “…of course I can, dearest.”

[ruins-posts]

RUINS, how do you think gojo's reaction would be with her best friend (they were a trio together with satosugu) finding out that sukuna is interested in her he already lost Suguru, i don't think he could deal with the fact that he could lose her too do you think he would go crazy? would you try to stay calm? i think a man would be seriously worried about the slightest possibility of her being interested too

OH LORD, I CAN SEE THE DRAMA BREWING.

Well, Gojo was devastated after Suguru, so I def think he'd grow more protective of her after losing him because he can't bear the thought of losing someone he loves ever again. So now our silly man is super-duper protective of her and cares for her deeply, getting worried even if she gets hurt in the slightest.

Then comes Suku, the troublemaker— the HOMEWRECKER (lol). He can't resist it. Nobody had the guts to talk back to him in a longgg time, so when you do for the first time in ages, he's so incredibly and greatly amused that he can't resist spewing a few comments (it's his love language) through his mouth on Itadori's cheek whenever you're around. Of course Yuji tries to silence him by slapping a hand on his weirdly positioned mouths.

But one day Gojo finds out. Maybe he's out treating his students and Yuji goes like, "Oh I think Sukuna likes Y/N-sensei." and boom. He has officially lost it. Like, whenever you're near Itadori now, he's with you, close to you, keeping an eye out for Sukuna. Sukuna notices, and of course adds fuel to the fire by saying stuff that only makes him more anxious.

Because had it been someone else, he would've shooed them at a glance. He's the strongest, no one would have the guts the compete with him if they wanted to win your heart. But this is Sukuna we're speaking of. His only potential rival. It would be a bit...difficult for him.

If you show the slightest bit of interest in Suku, Gojo's gonna be mad. When he sees you throw a flirty comment back at Sukuna, he's so worried. All his 'Oh, I'm the strongest' persona dissolves instantly and he'll get all pouty and scowl and be clingy. He'd not rest till you cup his face and kiss his forehead and assure him that you're not interested in leaving his side. Because he can't lose you. He already lost his best friend which left the both of you devastated, no way he's going through that again.

And well, good luck to you— the strongest sorcerer in history wants you, but the strongest sorcerer of today was in no way, ever, letting you leave his side.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hello hello :3

I'm not sure if you take platonic requests so if you get to mine and you don't, pls lmk <3

Anyway. I would like to request platonic Boothill, Sampo, Mydei (if you can't write him yet then it's okay) and the Astral Express crew (you can leave out characters if it's too much) with a reader who is a former slave like Aventurine but they escaped by force and now respond to certain gestures with violence. Think about it like a wounded animal you're trying to approach. They lash out, bite, scratch, attack, anything.

🌑hello dear welcome!! I do take platonic requests 🫡and you can request as many characters as you want just know the more there are the longer I'll take😅 also I love love this idea 👀👀

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Ooh he gets it

You can't exactly hurt him, given the metal body, but even if you try he won't hold it against you

The circumstances might not be the same but he undoubtedly became a different, not violent, man after what the IPC did to his planet

Plus being a galaxy ranger is a lonely existence by design

He respects your need to distance yourself from people

But I feel there's a nurturing side to Boothill he doesn't get to tap into very often

So there's a part of him that will try to comfort you? Relate to you? He doesn't know what he's doing himself but something in his heart breaks for you and pulls him towards you

One stubborn fella about helping you but quite sturdy, let's say he's the guy letting the dog bite him to get its anger out and know that he can be trusted 🥺

✦ 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨 ✦

Menace I love him

Sampo is a con-man salesman - he wants to know everyone's secrets so that he can exploit them for his benefit

But there's some lines even he won't cross

He's got a soft heart somewhere in there (deep in there) so you can expect that he'll go easy on you when he comes to his scheming

Plus he knows how to calculate risk, so if messing with you is highly likely to get him fucked up, he won't try you... Too much

Another man whose life wasn't exactly easy (which is why he's the way he is) and with a soft spot for people with a similarly difficult past

I think he'd find his own way of showing companionship, implying that you can talk to him about stuff if you want (tho he won't blame you for thinking he's just trying to get to your secrets) and stuff like that. He'll just be very subtle about how honest he's being

Let's say he's the guy slowly leaving treats for the dog and pretending like he doesn't care if it likes him or not (he really does, he's incredibly intrigued)

✦ 𝐌𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐢 ✦

New character so bear with me

I feel like you're very similar in this way

He's got a heart of gold under all that aggression, specially when it comes to his people

He's just bad at expressing it in a gentle way😅

His childhood was... Traumatic to say the least, violence is all he knows

Another sturdy guy, he's literally immortal and seems to enjoy a good fight so hitting him in any way might just start a sparring session💀

If he doesn't know you, he wouldn't engage, he's got better things to worry about

But if he does, you might get to see a gentleness from him no one thought him capable of

He's a patient man but he genuinely wants to see you learn to live with your trauma like him

I don't think he's done healing, mind you, but you might be able to learn something from each other about living with your demons

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

So much father energy LORD

The way he just immediately takes Sunday under his wing? Guiding him gently and patiently? That's a dad right there

He's deeply altruistic so he will try to help you please don't fight it😭

He's canonically one of the strongest characters so don't worry about hurting him. The fact that you even had to live through what you did, hurts him much more

Gentle but insistent, is how I'd describe him

He will not give up on you no matter what and that is a promise

When and if you decide to open up, he's a great listener

But even if you don't, he'll be there always🫡 because he genuinely just wants to see you be happy

✦ 𝐇𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐤𝐨 ✦

A fearless woman if I ever saw one

On the express she mostly keeps to herself, y'know navigating

But she undoubtedly cares deeply about the team so if you're part of it (let's say you are) you're included in that sentiment

She's not exactly... Motherly, per say, but she does care. She's just a bit... Awkward about it?

The type to do things like invite you to have coffee with her (don't drink it), or offer to teach you about navigating and stuff like that, just try to make you feel included

Not the type to outright ask about what happened but will listen if you tell her and will not judge - she doesn't see anything wrong with the way you handled things (Sunday train flashbacks)

Knows you're capable of protecting yourself, but will become somewhat protective of you

Tries to avoid setting you off as much as possible, she can hold her own no problem but she'd feel terrible if she hurt you in some way

✦ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟕𝐭𝐡 ✦

Sunshine incarnate

Might come off as overly friendly upon first meeting so if that sets you off well... she'll learn her lesson... maybe

Doesn't remember her past so if you don't wanna talk about yours it's all good with her

But if you do, she's a surprisingly good listener

Tho if you decide to be rude or aggressive to push her away, she'll definitely take it to heart, at first

She'll mope about it for a bit before her determination takes over

She wants to be your friend damnit 😡

She'll call you out for being rude but stick around regardless

She's got thicker skin than expected and she's hard to shake off (like a puppy...) if she decides she wants to be your friend, that's what she's gonna do

Plus after that first time, being rude to push her away won't work, she'll just talk right over you

In the end, she might just win you over through sheer determination 😭

✦ 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠 ✦

Oh he cares so much bless him

Dan Heng is extremely protective of those he's close to

If you're in the express, you're immediately included in that

Quiet comfort is his thing

Like sitting together quietly because you just need some company while he reads or even offering a game of chess as a distraction

Doesn't blame you for how you react, but if you become physically dangerous to be around he will be the first to restrain you

Just because he gets it doesn't mean he likes seeing the people around him get hurt

I feel like he's got some words of wisdom regarding how to make peace with your past

But beyond that he's good to have around because he doesn't push for answers at all

Nobody knew about his past when he came onto the express so he'd be kind of a hypocrite if he cared

It's inevitable that he becomes attached and when he does he becomes just as protective with you as with any other member of the express, regardless of your past

[bluemirrorangel]

Dps headcanons the poets and their type of academia aesthetic 

This is wayyyy longer than I intended it to be lol anyway I hope you enjoy these, leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do headcanons for them if you want :) 

Todd:darkest Academia

Loves gothic fiction and horror stories because he likes being nervous knowing that he's supposed to be.

Likes reading outside at night because it’s quiet 

Surprisingly nosey, not in a bad way he’s just really curious about stuff.

Likes dark/muted colours.

His favourite book is a picture of Dorian grey.

Weirdly into cryptids and other mysteries.

Was TERRIFIED of the Bermuda triangle as a kid.

Loves writing poetry but enjoys writing in general.

Semi popular writer on AO3 for classical literature, started because Keating told him to publicise  some of creative writing.

Runs his good reads account like the navy.

Charlie:chaotic academia

Regularly gets uniform carded for everything; shirt unbuttoned and untucked, tie loosened, he never has his blazer on and his jumper is perpetually tied around his waist. 

Has a mason jar type cup on his nightstand that is always full of a mixture of different energy drinks and fizzy drinks/soda’s, Cameron says it looks like paint water.

Banned from reading out loud in English class pre-Keating because he got a little too into the role of Jack in Lord of the Flies .

Point blank refuses to do P.E and is always ‘losing’ his kit.

Shockingly serious about music class, deeply respects the teacher and never misses a lesson.

Post stick notes EVERYWHERE

Writes his notes in highlighter and felt tips

Went through a phase of bringing a flask to school instead of a water bottle because he thought it looked cool.

Spark notes BIGGEST FAN.

A saxophone prodigy despite being unable to read sheet music.

Neil:light academia

Loves Shakespeare and the theatre in general

Good grades in every class but really shines when it comes to the arts

Eats his lunch in the English classroom with the other poets

Forges his fathers signature for school trips so much half his teachers have no idea what his dads handwriting actually looks like.

Hates biology because he’s scared of blood

Always says that Todd is his favourite author/poet.

Really good memory, able to learn lines at shocking speeds. 

Finds it difficult to multitask; has to have instrumental music playing otherwise he gets distracted.

Prefers plays over books.

Collects playbills.

Meeks:classic academia 

Loves typewriters, inherited one from his grandparents and uses it alllll the time.

has a polaroid camera and uses it to take either the best candid's or the  most diabolical mugs there's no in-between.

Owns a shocking amount of sweater vests.

Has a record collection.

Loves those retro 50’s themed diners/drive-ins, drags Pitts and the poets to those all the time.

Really into history

Owns an analogue radio.

Taught himself Latin one summer to impress Pitts, and is now fluent.

His entire wardrobe is vintage themed.

Favourite book is the Outsiders by S.E Hinton.

Knox:romantic academia

Writes love letters and poetry whenever he has a crush on someone, used to keep them under his bed but swiftly changed that hiding place after watching ‘to all the boys I've loved before.’ with his sister, they now live in a shoebox on his trophy/bookshelf.

Loves the romantics big fan of love poetry as a whole.

Has definitely tried to serenade someone before.

 Self taught guitarist.

Has only ever received on card on Valentines Day, it was from Charlie in year nine it’s one of Knox’s most prized possessions.

Loves Romeo and Juliet.

Thinks ‘say anything’ is the height of romance 

Subconsciously wants to be romanced for once instead of the other way round. 

 Has Pinterest boards dedicated to romantic quotes 

His favourite movie is the princess bride.

pitts:’nerdy’ Academia 

really into the roman empire 

Loves renaissance fairs and goes every year.

REALLY into dungeons and dragons.

Loves going to random museum exhibits.

Spent half his childhood hyper fixated on the Titanic, was super excited to watch the movie and completely heartbroken when he realised it was a fictional story and not a documentary.

Brilliant at chess.

Knows random historical facts.

Horrible at remembering faces but never forgets a name.

Loves mythology of all kinds.

Really good at architecture; his middle school used to have a architecture competition where  you had 2 minutes to make a house out of marshmallows and dry spaghetti the most stable one won, Pitts won every year.

Cameron:dark academia 

Keeps his notes/homework in colour coded folders and files

A proper perfectionist and  chronic overachiever.

Writes in pencil or fountain Pen.

the gifted kid who REFUSED to burn out.

Only gets attention at home when he’s doing well at school, so he throws himself into his studies.

Drinks more coffee than water

Can play the piano, was entered in a school concert and his whole family came. He was terrified of embarrassing or disappointing them so he overdid it and played so hard his fingers bled.

Has a copy of every graded test practice or otherwise in his room so he can go over them before his exams.

Hates English with a passion because it’s the one lesson where there are no rules.

Once spent an entire night going over his English notes before a test and was so overtired he fell asleep during the exam and failed it. None of the poets bring it up not even Charlie because that day was the first time he’d seen Cameron cry.

[fassina]

The Monster, The Portrait, and the Stone

Hey guys! So over the fantastic Gortash Week, I managed to finish my trilogy of Durgetash fics and I wanted to make a collective post about them.

They all sit within my bigger collection of Durgetash stuff, A Jewelled and Bloody Hand, but I think these three fics are the "meat" of that writing and I'm very, very proud of how they all turned out, and I hope you will enjoy them too. They're all rated "M" but mind the tags, these all don't shy away from the darker implications of both characters' pasts.

Part One: Monster, Mine

(art by the impeccable @mooreaux)

There is a beast haunting the city, and there is a tentative reaching of hands across the table. In pre-canon, Enver Gortash tries to find the truth of the Slayer.

Part Two: The Portrait

(Art by the incredible @lokorum)

Lord Gortash requests a portrait of his paramour. The pay is good, the contract legitimate. It seems almost too good to be true... In pre-canon, a young artist takes a job from an upcoming player in Baldur's Gate society.

Part Three: Stonemilker

(art by the infallible @muwitch)

He is always so good with words, erudite and sure. He always knows what to say. She is always so careful with words, until she finds she cannot be. As their relationship becomes more blurred and the lines between friends, companions, colleagues and lovers get ever more difficult to define, Manva Warhelm and Enver Gortash must find new words for each other.

All in all they're about 32,800 words, a little novella's worth, and I have been so thrilled with the response to them and to have been able to both commission and in the case of the final piece to have been gifted art by such incredible creators to bring it to life.

I hope you enjoy them, if you do take the time.

[deadlysoupy]

DATV banter if my Rook (Urchin) was a companion 1 / >> 2 << / ?

Neve: You’re jittery in Dock Town. What’s got you worried?

Rook: Isn’t everyone jittery in Dock Town? I’m surprised no one stole your leg while you were walking.

Neve: You’re dodging my question.

Rook: If I said it was the smell, would you accept that?

Neve: Hm. All right, good enough.

Rook: Oh, no. I told you too much, didn’t I? You’re already theorising.

Neve: (laughs) Perhaps.

~~

Neve: Rook, I beg of you, please stop poking fun at our enemies. One insult can cost you your life, some day.

Rook: Hey, they already hate us. What’s the point in holding back?

Neve: The point is that you infuriate them even more. You’re drawing attention to yourself.

Rook: I think that’s the idea.

Neve: Just… (sighs) Be careful, okay? Step on the wrong people’s toes…

Rook: Don’t worry. If I do step on their toes, they’ll know not to mess with someone who has this many friends.

Neve: I’m amazed and scared of your confidence.

~~

Lucanis: You would have been a good assassin, Rook.

Rook: Eh, too much work. And the blood is so difficult to wash off.

Lucanis: That’s why we wear leather.

Rook: The leather is nice. You look incredible in it.

Lucanis: I… appreciate the compliment. But is style really the only thing stopping you from being an assassin? You’re already an honorary Crow.

Rook: It’s good money, that’s for sure. But… I don’t like killing. Not by choice. I kill for survival, not greed.

Lucanis: I don’t kill for money, either.

Rook: I know.

Lucanis: But I understand. If you need work, or a place to sleep…

Rook: I know who to ask.

~~

Rook: Lucanis, I’ve noticed you hold your daggers more upwards. Is that comfortable?

Lucanis: The tilt makes it easier for me to slice. Why?

Rook: It’s not how I do it. Maybe you could show me? I always plunge the dagger in too deep. Ends up a mess.

Lucanis: Sure. What brought this on?

Rook: I don’t know… the Crows are so elegant at killing. It’s mesmerising.

Lucanis: I’ll make sure to tell the other Crows that Rook likes them. But yes, we certainly are taught style fairly early on. How is it with the Lords?

Rook: It’s… different. Okay, fine, I don’t really know.

Lucanis: How come?

Rook: Isabela taught me, no one else bothered to… or could get close to me. I guess I’ve simply developed her techniques.

Lucanis: All right. We can train together and exchange skills. Might be good practice.

~~

Taash: So. You and Isabela.

Rook: Uh-oh.

Taash: What?

Rook: Who told you? How did you find out?

Taash: Woah, slow down. I don’t know anything. But I do want to know now. Are you doing it?

Rook: What! Taash!

Taash: Ugh, what! Isn’t that what you were afraid of?

Rook: (sighs) No. I’m… Isabela practically raised me, Taash. Get your head out of the gutter.

Taash: O-oh. Sorry. Why didn’t you tell me in the first place, then? I thought we trusted each other. You met my mom. Holy shit, I met your mom!

Rook: (laughs) Well, I didn’t tell you because we’re not really official or anything. You know how she is. No touchy-feely stuff.

Taash: Yeah. I get it.

~~

Taash: Why do you wear Tevinter clothes? I thought you were a Lord.

Rook: Tevinter has style. Good colours, comfortable. Lets me appear like a normal citizen.

Taash: But you’re not Tevinter. Why hide where you really come from?

Rook: Taash, it’s Tevinter. I’m an elf. You really find nothing wrong with me wearing flashy Rivain clothes in gloomy, dark Dock Town? Without anyone bothering me?

Taash: (grunts) I guess that’s true. You ever tried, though? What if they’re cool?

Rook: I don’t want to risk it. Not hearing “knife-ear” every minute and just pretending I belong to someone is better.

Taash: Oh. That’s vashedan. I’m sorry they treat your people like that.

Rook: It gets worse, but thanks.

~~

Rook: Bel, did you adjust the rope yesterday?

Bellara: Oh, no, sorry. I didn’t have the time. The Nadas Dirthallen was acting up again. Sorry.

Rook: Hey, it’s okay! Take your time.

Bellara: We can do it together after we get back! What do you need the targets for, anyway?

Rook: I want to try throwing knives. No one’s ever taught me, and I saw a few Crows practising. If I could toss the bomb and then follow up with a knife throw, it would be much more effective than a timed bomb!

Bellara: Oh. Wait, hold on! That’s dangerous! What about collateral damage or friendly fire?

Rook: Eh. I’ll work those out on the fly. Don’t have much time to practice, anyway. But I’ll warn you if it helps?

Bellara: Uh… okay. I’ll tell the others to watch out for “sky bombs”.

Rook: O-o-oh, good name!

~~

Bellara: Rook, how are your burns? Do you need more healing salves? Should I bring some to your room?

Rook: (laughs) Bel, you’re fine. I’m fine! I’ve dealt with worse when I was just starting out. Messing with all this magic is new, but we’ll get there.

Bellara: I still feel bad. I asked you for help.

Rook: And I agreed! So no hard feelings. It’s not like you wanted for the core to explode. Unless…

Bellara: Rook! Of course I didn’t!

Rook: I was just messing with you. But there you go, then.

~~

Rook: Hey. What has an eye, but can’t see?

Davrin: Oh, please don’t.

Rook: Come o-on.

Davrin: Ugh. Fine. What?

Rook: A fsh!

Davrin: (sighs) I hate you, you know that? I already feel new wrinkles forming on my face!

Assan: (laughing squawk)

Rook: Aw, thanks, Assan! At least someone appreciates me around here.

Davrin: I can’t tell who’s worse: you or Assan.

~~

Davrin: Hey, Rook…

Rook: If it’s about your bed, it was Assan!

Davrin: I… what?

Rook: (laughs) Sorry, what were you gonna say?

Davrin: No. Please, do go on. What was that about my bed?

Rook: I’ll never tell.

Davrin: Fine. Then I’ll look the other way when Assan tries to play with your jewelry next time.

Rook: He’s been doing that?

Davrin: Among other things. Talk.

Rook: (sighs) I’ve been… napping on your bed when you’re gone.

Davrin: You what?

Rook: It’s really soft! And dark. It’s like I’m in a cave. Reminds me of the ruins.

Davrin: Hm. Well. If you ask, I might let you switch with me sometimes. I have always wondered what sleeping in your room is like.

Rook: I’ll let you see for yourself. And… thanks, Davrin.

Davrin: Just don’t go around mentioning this to anyone, got it?

Rook: My lips are sealed.