#i'm like three days late

[ilovepannacotta]

And they talked until the dawn.

At one point during the night Darius threw a rock at Ling to make him shut up for laughing so hard.

first day of the @edling-week 2024, happy gay week everyone.

[hu-te]

happy holidays y'all

[whorejolras]

In 1815, M. Charles-François-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of

[scoliosisgoblin]

yo, @bennydunbar, check this out

[hrokkall]

THE WORLD LOOKS WHITE /// THE WORLD LOOKS RED

[pers3phone399]

sorry babe can't talk rn i'm letting another fanfic completely overtake all of my waking thoughts

(it's "Methyl Nitrate Pineapples" and its sequel "Cherry Bomb Alchemy" by @fablecore (razbliuto on ao3) if you like One Piece OC stories and one (1) emo Surgeon of Death you should go read it too)

[aeligsido]

[WM] Prompt 1 — Western.

Rating: G.

Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Orion Black, Walburga Black, Regulus Black, James Potter.

Additional Tags: flirting, first meeting, bartender Remus, rich Sirius.

Summary: Sirius is traveling with his family, and meets a cute bartender.

Words count: 646.

A/N: Disclaimer that my only knowledge of western is from Lucky Luke and I haven’t read the comics in ages. Also it’s my first time writing these characters kzjsjs. Hope you like it ❤️

@wolfstarmicrofic

—

When she steps out of the stagecoach, Mother is less than impressed by what she discovers; Sirius can tell by the turn of her lips and the uplifting of her chin. He steps out right after her, and immediately understands what rebutted her.

The town — if it can even be called one — is small, just emerging from the ground and the arrivals of new settlers. There’s maybe five houses, one of which doubles as the sheriff’s office, what seems to be a half-empty store, and a saloon. There have been a few farms on the way here, and there’s more foundations for further establishments down the main and only road, but for now it looks properly desolate, so unlike the big city they come from.

Father is talking with the driver already, and Regulus appears behind Sirius’ shoulder. He wrinkles his nose in confusion at the state of the town, looking over at him with a question in his eyes; Sirius shrugs. It’s his first time out in the Wild Wide West as well, after all — Father never brought any of them along before.

“Come on,” Father says, back from his discussion. “The saloon is also an inn. We will get rooms here.”

He leads the way, and they follow as always. Regulus is walking so close to Sirius that they almost trip over each other, but he doesn't have the heart to berate his brother when he looks so anxious at his surroundings. The inn is surprisingly empty, save for two people at the bar; one of them, with wide glasses and wild hair, is talking animatedly, while the other, half-hunched over the counter and attention all on his compagnon, is quietly listening. He stands up when they enter, though, and greets them with a polite smile.

“Welcome! What can I get you?”

Up close, the polite smile is paired with dark blond curls and brown eyes, and freckles dusted at the top of his cheeks and nose.

“How many rooms do you have?” asks Father, his hand already hovering over his coin pouch.

The bartender hesitates only an instant. “Two with double beds. How long will you stay?”

“Three days.” They hash out a few more details, and Sirius loses interest; he catches the eyes of the man at the bar beside them, who raises his untouched glass toward him with a wink. Mother is already steering Regulus away, as if being in the presence of alcohol will be enough to corrupt him forever.

“Take the keys, Sirius.”

He obeys, hand reaching out to the bartender; he is pretty cute, in a gentle kind of way. Sirius may be looking a bit too intently, because the man in front of him gets suddenly flustered. Adorable.

Sirius checks; his father has joined Mother and Regulus near the stairs, and his parents are too busy having a silent argument to put much attention on him. And he does have three days to occupy.

They keys drop in his hand, one after the other, the bartender’s fingers just brushing against his palm. Sirius leans on the counter, grin on his lips and eyebrows raised just slightly.

“And which one is yours?”

The man's cheeks turn pink. He clears his throat, sending a look toward the only other customer — who seems suddenly fascinated by his whiskey — before giving his attention back to Sirius. He’s biting the corner of his bottom lip in an anxious, unconscious action, eyes contemplating, and Sirius stares.

“You should go back,” he finally says, and the disappointment settles on Sirius’ shoulders.

He straightens up; but then, the bartender blurts out, words fast and clutched together, “First door on the right after the stairs.” He looks so taken aback by his own words, Sirius’ grin softens into a smile.

“Well then, I'll see you tonight.”

“Remus.”

“Remus.” Sirius winks, and goes back to his family.

[tarchey]

Happy trans day of visibility

[bitegore]

ok this isnt meant to be a dig or anything but it's always really funny to me when people like just cracking 30 are like "omg you're in your early twenties, you're a babyyyyyy"

babe you're like barely 30, you're a baby too. You're a blink and a half older than me. I spend too much time around people over 50, the difference between 23 and 33 is a few years at a job and a little more distance from living in your parents' house but it's like, nothing. the gap closes every time you breathe and every time i move. the difference between you and me is like one-fifteenth the difference between you and my dad's friend Joe or whatever. don't worry you'll get to live more life too, but don't kid yourself.

and this is doubled when it's coming from a 25-year-old currently experiencing a crisis of age because they're soooo old, they're 25, the horror! You are twenty-five. We have an age difference of three years. Your concern over this is embarrassing for you and highly entertaining for me. But like don't kid yourself here. You are 25. You are a like a fucking baby to me.

[reitziluz]

Unbidden, he remembered the first time he had woken up on the office couch after hiring Serizawa. One of the bath robes for the clients in need of more hands-on exorcism had been carefully spread over him. For the rest of the week, Serizawa had hovered around him, subtle as a bear. He hadn’t minded it at all, having all that worry and care and affection wrapped around him like a warm blanket. “It’s different in practice. It’s different… with you.”

Days Spent Dreaming Shit-All, chapter 2: Theory and Practice

[read on ao3]

[patron-saints]

fma rareship weekend: day 3, children

written for @fma-rareships's day 3! while intended to be an extension of the recognition 'verse, and therefore olivier x izumi, this one is also for sure olivier & al

~~~

“yeah,” al says into the phone, “no, all of the grandparents are here. yes, including olivier, she’s been here for three days. ostensibly, she’s here mostly to keep teacher from crying again, but personally, i think she might actually—oh, no, she heard me.” al covers the microphone with their hand and looks up at one of their newborn daughter’s many grandparents, who is valiantly trying to pretend she’s not tearing up.

“general,” al says, because even they have her permission to use her name now, sometimes it’s hard not to fall back on old habits, “did you think you weren’t—”

“i don’t like children,” she says, wiping her eye with the back of her knuckle.

this is amusing to al, given that yesterday, when she’d been holding zhiying for two uninterrupted hours, she’d audibly growled at anyone who tried to take her. so, they elect to ignore her statement for both their sakes. “you are her g—both mei and i consider you to be one of her grandparents. if… you want to be, that is.”

“alphonse,” olivier says, still pretending like she’s getting out of this, “i am your teacher’s wife.”

unafraid to interrupt her, al says, “are you going to tell me izumi and sig are anything other than…?” it’s a strong tactic. of course, al would rather tell her how much they love her. how she’s been a mentor to them in the last few years, how she inspires them, pushes them, and how they can’t imagine their daughter’s life without her in it. but that’s the kind of thing al knows they have to write in a letter, so she can cry about it in private and stoically thank them later.

olivier narrows her eyes. “of course not.”

“and?”

after staring at them for a while longer, olivier sighs. “no child of yours, no matter how cute, is going to ever call me ‘grandma.’”

al raises an eyebrow.

“but. it would be my honor to accept that role in zhiying’s life.” she pauses, and something like a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “thank you for asking.”

al is almost positive she's going to cry about this later.

[ifindus]

Norges Skål

The song was written in 1771 as a drinking song for the “Norske Selskab”, Norwegian students in Denmark. It was confiscated and banned when it was tried published because of the strong Norwegian patriotic contents, and was not officially published until 13 years later, in Trondheim 1784, 30 years before Norway became independent.

Gratulerer med dagen! Ha en god 17. mai 🥰

Listen along here.

A modern recording of the song here and Norwegian lyrics under.

Norges Skaal.

For Norge, Kjæmpers Fødeland, Vi denne Skaal vil tømme, Og naar vi først faae Blod paa Tand, Vi sødt om Frihed drømme; Dog vaagne vi vel op engang Og bryde Lænker, Baand og Tvang; For Norge, Kjæmpers Fødeland, Vi denne Skaal udtømme!

Hver tapper Helt, blandt Klipper fød, Vi drikke vil til Ære; Hver ærlig Norsk, som Lænker brød, Skal evig elsket være! Den vrede Livvagts Vaabenbrag Forklarer trolig Nordmænds Sag. Hver ærlig Norsk, blandt Klipper fød, Vi drikke nu til Ære!

En Skaal for Dig, min kjække Ven, Og for de norske Piger! Og har Du en, saa Skaal for den! Og Skam faae den, som sviger! Og Skam faae den, som elsker Tvang Og hader Piger, Viin og Sang! En Skaal for Dig min kjække Ven, Og for de norske Piger!

Og nok en Skaal for Norges Fjeld, For Klipper, Snee og Bakker! Hør Dovres Echo raabe: "Held!" For Skaalen tre Gang takker. Ja tre Gang tre skal alle Fjeld For Norges Sønner raabe Held; Endnu en Skaal for Dig mit Fjeld, For Klipper, Snee og Bakker!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[risuola]

wips that i'm currently working on:

contract killer!toji x contract killer!reader x handler!shiu

archangel!satoru x demon!reader

heian era!sukuna x sacrifice!reader

[everydaydenki]

[fernzwing]

I feel like I just woke up from a coma sorry for not posting anything guys. 2024 is not a very happy year