#totally malleable

[tennessoui]

alrightalrightalright what about an au where newly knighted obi-wan kenobi is working as a jedi on a hugely top secret project in the middle of nowhere, outer rim, with a very small amount of help from the jedi order and strict instructions to not let anyone know what he's doing - and one night he gets involved in something he has no business getting involved in but this is obi-wan, after all, he never can leave well enough alone. he's trying to bust and rescue a slave ring he uncovers (again, completely on accident, he just took a night off for a drink)

and he decides to go undercover himself to get back to where the (pleasure) slaves are being held so he can set about freeing them, but before he's done, smuggler anakin skywalker bursts in and rushes all of them onto his ship to get them away, taking well-meaning but solidly jedi obi-wan with him

but obi-wan IS under strict orders to not disclose anything about himself or why he was on the planet because this is a super secret jedi project....and anakin thinks he just rescued him from slavery, so it's not like he can just politely ask to be dropped back off roughly around the location he was picked up

and the longer they fly about the galaxy, the more obi-wan is hesitant to return at all. not that he has issues with the order or anything. not that he doesn't feel extremely uncomfortable lying to anakin about his past when anakin is being very kind and understanding and opening up about his own past as a slave....

but despite his duty to the order to return to that planet, despite the guilt he feels when he cannot be as honest with anakin as the smuggler is with him....he sorta...he sorta really likes the other man. he likes the type of freedom he's showing him. he likes the miniature missions they send themselves on. he especially likes the way he catches anakin looking at him sometimes from the pilot's seat, as if he's the biggest, most precious, most unexpected gift he has ever received

[lululeighsworld]

decided to play the heirs of fate dlc this weekend (ive been meaning to for awhile; admittedly my knowledge of it all comes from browsing the wiki, and i really wanted to experience the anankos characterization for myself). this isn't even the part i was excited to get to BUT I AM REELING OVER IT..........FOR REASONS I WILL DISCLOSE IN THE TAGS (from part iv: light's sacrifice)

[letmeliedown]

if i ever want to feel better about where i’ve gotten in terms of being in touch with material reality all i have to do is look at an occult subreddit for 5 seconds (and then stop because it feels like putting my hand on a stove)

[snowyvoid]

sorry but so many fandoms are so so obsessed with making masc presenting fictional characters twinks. and it makes me so upset because. ok. you have this wonderful character with amazing depth and etc etc and you just make them into a stupid little silly dumb dumb? the fuck. and why are you making them skinny and white ontop of that (when they arent already). my thoughts are very scattered about this i need some time to properly word it

[endawn]

hunger is such a hater in general but especially towards anyone romancing pax

[wordsinhaled]

i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”

many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well

metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.

it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)

so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way

aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.

but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on

and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun

like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience

aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[saturnsorbits]

Skintight

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Suggestive, Word Count: 2.1k.

Summary: Sero's got an embarrassing problem.

A/N: This is a new flavour of Sero for me, but I love this one just as much.

'You can't laugh...' Sero's voice is thick in the back of his throat forcing him to attempt to cough out it's awkwardness.

It doesn't work.

There's still the tell tale pinkness of a deep blush around his cheek bones, one that streaks down his neck and vanishes beneath the high, black neck of his suit.

Holding open your front door, you raise your eyebrows already on the cusp of giggles. He's leaning on your door frame, his arm pinned above his head, elbow pressed into the wood in a way that was almost charming. 'Okay...'

'Can – Actually...' He leans back, glancing down the corridor. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course.' Stepping aside, you watch as he slips into your apartment keeping his back almost flush with the door. You watch as he goes, side-stepping his way into your living room before turning quick on the balls of his feet to face you – the same sheepish smile etched into his features. Pausing, you tilt your head. 'Are you okay?'

'Y – yeah, uh...' He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he fidgets.

You raise your eyebrows, tipping forward slightly on your tip-toes.

'I – ha... See it's funny really because -.'

'Hanta, spit it out.'

He sighs. 'I'm stuck in my suit.'

You can't help it, a chuckle bubbles up your throat and spills helplessly over your lips.

Rocking his head back on his shoulders, Hanta groans. 'I said not to laugh...'

Sucking in air through your teeth, you struggle with party balloon lungs until the wheezing subsides and you can stand a little straighter again. 'Yeah, yep, sorry...' A stray gasp leaks from your lips, forcing you to bite down on the seam to silence it. 'Go on.'

'It gets worse.' He sighs. Squeezing shut his eyes, he licks over his lips before admitting. 'I'm naked in here.'

'I'm sorry, what?' You cough, disguising the tension in your lungs. It's hard not to look then, to really look, given the new information you've just been presented with.

Black spandex, strengthened with some obnoxiously named polymer stretches over the expanse of his shoulders. He's wide there, wider than you'd expect given his slight frame, but there's no denying the muscle that lingers under the material. The black extends, covers the swells of his pecs and then tapers, cutting into odd triangles that frame the ripples of his stomach. He's not as well muscled here as he is in his shoulders. Instead of the rough blocks of abdominal muscles, his are streamlined, forming two long, thick stripes of muscle that are almost totally visible through the pale of his suit.

Letting your eyes sink lower still, your gaze lingers on the thin strips of malleable metal that serves to strengthen his suit, but also inadvertently seems to perfectly highlight the deep creases that mark out his torso. You swallow. Hidden under a black square of material, barely contained by what you have to assume is at least two layers of material is a thick bulge. The swell is obvious, casting darkened shadows onto the twitching muscles of his thighs.

'Naked, me, under here...' Gesturing his crotch, he widens his eyes.

'The fucking zip snapped and I can't ask anyone to fucking help peel me out because whoever does it is going to get an eyeful of, well... Me.'

Blinking repeatedly, you swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his. His jaw is tight, his stare worried and wild as he looks at you for an answer to a question you're not sure he's got the balls to ask.

Although, new information could prove you wrong.

It's in that instant that the silliness of the situation hits you right back over the head again. You manage to hold your laughter for a solid three seconds before it's tumbling out of you again. This time, it catches you off guard, rolling through you and almost reducing you to a crouch as Sero winces in front of you. 'Why couldn't you get one of the boys to help? Surely they've seen everything before...'

'And have Denks take the piss forever? No thanks.'

'Oh...' You fold your arms across your chest. 'And you think I won't take the piss? Is that it?'

'No.' He answers too quickly, but manages to trap the rest of his half-baked confession behind his teeth before it drops into the palm of your hands. The truth is, he doesn't think he'd mind you taking the piss – he doesn't think he'd mind you doing anything to him, in all honesty. Maybe that's why instead of slinking back to the agency and hoping that Hatsume was in her workshop, he'd found himself here, almost twenty minutes out of his way. He shrugs. 'But, maybe you'll be nicer about it?'

Locking eyes with him for a moment, you pause to watch him sweat before rubbing your hands together. 'C'mon then...' You smirk. 'Let's see how big that dick is.'

'Can you not?' Sero snaps, shivering when your palm meets the muscle of his shoulder. You slide your touch across him, moving in one solid stroke from his deltoid to the thick muscle of his back. The touch, as innocent as it is, makes his stomach tighten, molten lava churning as he submits to your teasing. A soft giggle slips your lips, sliding into his ear like sweet sherbet, making him half regret his decision to ask you, but then, your fingers are playing at the dips just above his collarbone and stealing coherency from him once more.

The suit is cooler than you'd expected. You can feel it, the tips of your fingers growing colder as you search across his chest, fingertips pressing against him in a search that quickly becomes fruitless.

Scratching, you use your nails to rake down his chest and attempt to ignore the way you can feel him respond. His whole body bristles, muscles tightening as a ripple uses his spine like a fire pole. You lick over your lips and hope he can't hear the shake in your voice. 'Where the fuck is the zip on this thing?'

Stretching back his shoulders, Sero swallows. 'It's, uh, around the back...' Gathering the loose hair

Immediately, you lift your hands as if burnt. Now, your groping feels gratuitous – sexual in a way that it wasn't meant to be. Not really. When you step behind him, twisting your hip to avoid bumping it against his, you don't let your fingers wonder.

It's not hard to find it, not now you're laser focused. There's a small bump. The slightest overlap between the two sides of his suit as it wraps around the base of his neck. A few hours ago there had been a zip, the thin strip of metal poking, just, from the material, but now, there's nothing there: Just the slight bump.

Laying one hand flat against the muscle of his back, you use your index finger to skate up the zip – parting the fabric as you go. At the top, you hook your finger under the suit and begin to work at opening it.

Each touch sends a series of short static shocks up through his body, forcing him to tense the plain of his stomach to keep him from folding over. He can feel it, the delicate slip of your fingers as you manage to shift the zip from the top of his spine to near between his shoulders. Inhaling, he starts to wonder if this was a bad idea after all.

'You want me to just keep going, yeah?' You move slowly now. It's almost obscene. A private strip show. One you're participating in, that wouldn't even be happening without you. The thought has you fighting your own composure, forcing you to lock your knees to keep them from shaking.

'Ye – yeah.' He forces a laugh into his voice, but it catches behind his Adam's apple and slips out of his mouth a rasp. 'It stops like, like,' he coughs. 'Like just above my ass.' The bridge of his nose crinkles, a cringe folding his features as he stops talking.

'Okay.' Your fingers feel like they're burning as your decent reveals more and more skin. The smooth plain of his back is revealed, the muscle underneath rippling as it's loosed from it's material confines.

It's intimate in a way you'd never expected as with the slick of his suit, so too are hidden secrets revealed. There's a mole just under the curve of his right shoulder blade. A scar that runs parallel to his spine, the skin still pink and fresh. The edges of black ink that wraps around the edge of his left hip.

When the zip finally draws to a stop, you can see the cleft of his ass. If you were to slip your hands inside, splaying your fingers across the warm breath of his lower back you'd be able to sink your thumbs into his back dimples. You imagine he'd sigh. Let his head roll back on his shoulders as you press close to him. Maybe you'd let your hands slink further, following along the grooves of his hips; lines that would lead to lower and lower, until...

'All done?' His voice is wound tight when he speaks, locked somewhere in the basin of his throat and released as if thrown out on a breath.

Your reluctant to step back, to recede from the heat of his body, but you manage it. 'Yep.' You pat his back, feeling the muscle relax under your touch. 'All done.'

He turns, already wriggling his shoulders free from the material of his suit. 'Thanks, thought I was going to be trapped forever in this thing. It's so...' Slipping his fingers under the latex clinging to his left shoulder, he stretches it from his skin. 'Difficult to fucking get out of.'

You chuckle and watch him struggle. He twists around himself, peeling the second skin of his suit away only for it to snap back and illicit a hiss from between his teeth. 'C'mere, before you do yourself some serious harm.'

Sero shivers as your hands skate underneath the suit and peel him from it. He'd close his eyes to hide from the intimacy of your slow undressing of him, but all that would do is conjure images of what he wishes would come afterwards. Images of him repaying the favour, slipping you from your oversized hoodie and sinking to his knees then repaying you again in a wholly different way. He can already imagine how easy it would be to have you, and yet... 'Thanks,' he mumbles.

'No worries.' You giggle, catching his eye before you step back: his shoulders and arms freed. 'Tell you what though...' Your eyebrow arcs, a coy smile playing at the edge of your lip. 'That really doesn't hide anything, does it?'

Eyes widening, he swallows hard. The knowledge of your staring, dare he even dream admiring, sends a shock wave of tension directly south. He cock kicks, his ass clenching as if to try and disguise the too obvious bulge against the front of his costume. In an instant, his hands sink, the top-half of his suit bunched in his fist as he plays the move for comfort and hopes you don't notice a thing. 'I...'

'I'm just joking around, Han.' You chuckle around the lump in your throat. There's a notable pulse in your stomach, one that sinks by the second and has your thoughts turning savoury.

'I'll...' Sero hedges. There's an energy in his muscles, one that makes him want to bounce on the balls of his feet and do something silly.

'Do you want a t-shirt?'

The more he looks at you, the more kissable you look. You always look kissable, but right now, with the sun coming in from your living room window and that small curious smile itching at your lip... You look phenomenal. He shakes his head. 'I'll just swing home. I'll be too high and too quick for anyone to notice that I'm semi-shirtless... My place isn't far.'

'Oh, okay.' You try not to let your disappointment show, but there's a notch that forms between his eyebrows that makes you wonder just how successful you'd been at disguising it. Slinking to the door, Sero has one foot over the threshold before he turns.

Fuck it. He thinks.

'Can I tell you something?'

Your eyes shine, head tilting. 'Of course, anything.'

'I really, like, really wanna take you out to dinner.'

Your lips break into a smile, forcing apples into your cheeks as a chuckle slips through your teeth. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' His smile matches yours, reaching his eyes and making him glow. 'Next week? That new place down town?'

You nod, chewing at your lip as you try not to feel like an excited school girl. 'It's a date.'

Sero's heart stutters, thudding in his chest. 'It's a date.'

-> Masterlist

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

#doesnt bertie do something similar with his vocabulary lapses and the numerous instances of 'if x is the word i mean'#bertie is writing his stories after the fact just like jeeves - he could look it up. he doesnt. in jeeves in the offing bertie gets a word#wrong ergo dahlia doesnt understand what he means and bertie reacts as though it were self-evident that dahlia couldnt have understood him#even if he'd used the right word: 'you are probably not familiar with the word but its one i've heard jeeves use'#if we assume that that is how bertie looks at the world then he doesnt have to look it up - to bertie people like him (people who will read#his writings) dont know words like jeeves does and therefore it is unneccessary to be 100% sure which word he means - noone else would know#and while jeeves doesnt include literary allusions in his narration he very much establishes himself as an authority in that area#except he does it through bertie - he is writing a guide addressed to new valets and right at the beginning he quotes emerson at bertie#who is immediately portrayed as the guy who cant remember the name of the play he saw the evening before. jeeves is absolutely showing off!#there are three foreign words set in cursive in the first paragraph alone! but the difference is while he may be showing off he - just as#you said - has nothing to prove - he is already the authority and here hes just establishing another way in which a valet#has to keep the upper hand

@noandnooneelse's tags for further discussion about jeeves as a narrator but responding in the tags because that's the most superior method of communication

you guys ever notice how in his dialogue when he's in bertie's presence, jeeves uses quotations and references constantly, but in his THOUGHTS during "bertie changes his mind," he doesn't use any? this is obviously because he doesn't care if we the audience know he knows shakespeare, but he will languish and die if he doesn't get to dazzle bertie with his wit and knowledge every five seconds

[yooniivrse]

pottery date | myg

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

word count: 1.1k

content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧

warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭

a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33

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main masterlist

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Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.

You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.

The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.

Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.

You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."

"Yeah, which is totally unfair."

Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”

You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”

He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.

“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”

You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”

You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.

“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.

“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.

Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.

Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.

As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.

“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”

“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.

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Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.

A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.

“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”

Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”

He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.

The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.

I love you.

The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.

It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

God, he just fell in love with you all over again.

[neverendingford]

.

[dovesdreaming]

I NEED NEED NEED HARRY HOOK THATS TOTALLY OBSESSED W READER!! LIKE HE’D DO ANYTHING FOR THEM

i think it would be more interesting w/ an auradon kid but isle is totally fine lol! just let them get together at the end!!

thank you in advance!!

I’m glad I met you

May change title yet

I’m obsessed with this request and really hope it’s as good as I wanted it to be! Thank you for requesting hope you enjoy <3 (this is my 50th post already 😱)

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none

When the barrier came down Harry expected nothing of it. He was ready to cause mischief with the Auradon people. He hadn’t met anyone from there before but he assumed that they were stuck up and wouldn’t want to associate with isle people, Harry thought it wouldn’t be long before they tried putting a barrier back up again.

Harry was enrolled to the school and he wasn’t expecting anything he was interested in to happen, especially not from the big welcome they did for all the new students. He could already tell this was gonna drag well, that was until he saw you.

He was assigned to shadow you for the week so he could get to know the school and the classes. Harry was suddenly interested in what this school had to offer, or more so you.

He was immediately infatuated with you. He wanted to follow you everywhere and luckily just for this week he could. You would spend all day together and part to go to different dorms yet Harry would still think of you til he feel asleep, you were constantly on his mind. Similarly, Harry had grown on you since his arrival. You had been keen to be a welcomer for the isle kids because you felt they deserved a chance and you wouldn’t listen to certain kids that were opposed to it. You wanted the isle people to feel welcome and here you were halfway through the week of Harry shadowing you. It had been amazing so far, much better than you could have ever thought. You had become close friends fast as it turned out you shared the same humour and his quick remarks he made during class would always make you laugh. You ended up even spending your breaks and lunch with Harry because you couldn’t get enough of his presence.

When the end of the week came and Harry got his time table you were praying that you shared at least a few classes together. It turned out that you did in fact share classes while not all like the past week, it was enough to satisfy both of you.

Since Harry had joined the school there hadn’t been a dull day. He joined your group of friends and he managed to get along with many people. While he had become better behaved he hadn’t completely given up his ways, he managed pull quite a few pranks off with many not being tied back to him. He had even managed to convince you on occasion to join in, you didn’t know how he did it but you guessed it had something to do with the way he would lower his voice to a deeper tone and that pirate accent of his.

Many months of being friends with Harry had made you both feel very deeply for each other, it coming to a head one night when you were sitting on a roof you had snook up onto together at night under the stars. In the quiet, no words needed to be spoken as you and Harry were comfortable in each others presence. As you both turned to look at each other the air felt heavy with many unsaid things. Harry made a move first and slowly leaned in. You hurried the moment along and crashed your lips into his. From that night on it was a whirlwind of feelings. The love you shared was exciting and new, you had never felt anything like it.

Harry was obsessed with you and he would say it all the time himself. He worshipped the ground you walked on and he would follow behind you everywhere you went if he could. You had changed him and he became malleable at your will. He would listen to every thing you said and would hold onto to your every word. He would still act tough and domineering in public but behind closed doors he would beg for the smallest drop of your attention. It was like a switch and initially it had shocked you to see such a stark difference in personalities. But you loved every inch of him and he would say the same for you, he would be forever grateful for the barrier being brought down and cursed whoever for it not being brought down a while ago so that he could have known you sooner.

Headcanons:

-Would want you to wear his clothes so that they would smell of you. He would want the name of your perfume so that he could always have your scent near by but it would never be the same as you, something was missing. Would be the type to hug your pillow if you ever couldn’t be with him at night.

-Would put his hat on you and immediately fall in love, would fall to his knees at the sight and would always beg you to wear it.

-Would always flirt with you and his weakness would be if you ever flirted back. He would become besotted with you and become silent from the rush of emotions it caused within him.

-Would be so whiny. Would never want to leave your side behind closed doors. Just wants to be in each others arms all day.

-He just couldn’t get enough of you once you were together. Would love staring at you and into your eyes. He could listen to your voice forever.

-would always have a picture of you close by. Whether it be in his pocket, it tucked away safely in his hat, he wanted you close to him. Would also always be taking photos of you and would catch amazing candid shots of you where the light in your eyes shone.

-He may not have much but he would do whatever he could for you. He offered you his all and would hope it was enough for someone like you.

-With how obsessed he was with you he would have doubts about not being enough for you, especially with his background. You’d be quick to reassure him with words and kisses though.

-Overall though Harry is smitten and no amount of teasing would ever change the way he feels for you. You make his heart beat and have made him a better person, he could never be more grateful for having someone like you be in love with him.

Thank you for reading!

[eamour]

manifestation rules

everybody has a different set of beliefs when it comes to manifesting, determining their journey. some believe that nothing unfavourable can manifest for them, some believe that they can get whatever they want even if they react to their outer reality, ... whatever you choose to believe in creates the basis for the way you go about manifesting your desires. therefore, it's always nice to make manifesting easier and more effortless by sticking to certain rules that can protect, guide and make you feel more at ease while manifesting a certain desire.

applying the rules

it's totally up to you: you can make all of these your new rules or just pick a few new ones that resonate with you the most. the way you make these rules "work" is by simply declaring that this is now your new way of manifesting! don't worry, you don't have to learn them all by heart but remind yourself of them in times of manifesting. it's the most affective when you don't overcomplicate it!

here are the rules

whatever i want, wants me more

everything conspires in my favour

i am the only creator in my reality

the world revolves around me

i’m the main character and always get my happy ending

i am destined to win and succeed

everything is rigged in my favour

i easily manifest

manifesting is very easy for me

it’s all in my command and under my control

i am in charge of pretty much everything

there’s only one operant power and that’s me

i always get everything i want in my life

i was made to rule both dimensions

everything always falls into place for me

it all perfectly works out for me 

i never chase, i attract

everything i want is easily given to me

i have it all

i’m a master manifestor

i’m a pro at manifesting

whatever i desire is already mine

i’m the blueprint

i’m way too perfect not to have it all

all of my desires are meant for me

i effortlessly manifest the life of my dreams

everything is always about me

i am the prize, everything chases me

i decide what happens next

i am the god of my reality

i’m the master of my destiny

my desires are done deal 

everything is mine for the taking

i have my desires simply because i say so

as the god of my reality, it is my right to have everything i want

i get everything i desire since everything i say, goes

life is a game and i keep winning

i never fail to get what i want

it’s impossible for me to fail

not getting what i wish for isn’t possible

“failure” doesn’t exist in my life

others might not succeed but that doesn't go for me

i manifest quickly, effortlessly and instantly

my desires materialise very fast

i always get whatever i want whenever i want it

everything i want is being handed to me instantly

whatever i desire is mine in the very moment

i get whatever i want as soon as possible

i manifest regardless of everything and anything

there is no such thing as “impossible”, “illogical” or “unlikely” to manifest

circumstances don’t matter

the outside world doesn't affect me in any way

nothing can hinder my manifestation process

i cannot not get my desire

no one can stop me from attaining the life i want

the 3D immediately conforms

everything always works out perfectly for me

i am limitless

my abilities are infinite

anything is totally malleable 

i can change reality to my liking

the world only shows me what i wish to see

i mould my own world

in imagination, i have it all

regardless of any circumstances, i get whatever i like

intrusive thoughts, doubts or worries cannot influence my manifestations

the 3D quickly reflects my desires

my outer world shows me my inner world

negativity doesn’t exist for me

i am protected from anything undesirable

unfavourable thoughts never manifest for me

with love, ella.

[hypnoprincesslottie]

24/7 hypnopet training

every day, ALL day should be dedicated to furthering your devotion and emptying your brain... take every free minute in the day to remind yourself who you are.

alone at work? can't sleep late at night? dinner with family? doesn't matter... get your phone out. you know what to do, right? the training never stops, does it? not til you can't think anymore at all~ so look at those spirals... every second alone should be dedicated to chasing that pleasure! then every second with me? indulging in it.

hugging you from behind, teasing you, whispering into your ear... we're putting you into a trance so you can be easy to train and totally malleable for me... you're doing such a good job! you're so good for me, aren't you?

don't think, just feel good...

[princessbrunette]

I don’t know if you’ve done this but what abt deer!reader being a bit bratty for the first time?? How would pope react? (Preferably season 3 pope but any would be fine!!!)

i only write s3!pope !! ♡

ੈ♡⸝⸝🍧⋆🩷₊⊹

“and— and i’ll be gone for like, three days max— but when i’m back, i’m back for good, okay? i know you can survive that long, and plus it’ll all be worth it because i’ll finally have the—” popes description of the elaborate pogue plan had turned to rambling as he registers your disturbed expression, your boyfriend stood above you by the pier where you had otherwise been peacefully reading your book.

maybe you had been in a mood that day, but as he continued to speak, you dug your nails into the malleable spine of your old book, blinking rapidly as if attempting to control the wave of emotion coming over you. for the most part, you were docile. understanding. you let pope do what he needed to do, all the time — because you knew how much it meant to him. from the dawn of your relationship you’d both had your own things, and that’s how you liked it. but recently, you were starting to feel the gap between the importance of the pogues and the importance of you.

in that moment, you were sick of having no control over the relationship. you usually liked it— it was relaxing to let pope do the thinking and decision making, but you wondered if you were being walked over — which is why you snapped.

“no. you’re not going.” you tense your jaw, lips tight and eyes squinted. he stops his rambling, blinking at you for a second.

“okay, i can see you’re upset — and i totally get it —”

“no, you don’t. you’re an idiot, pope. and — and you’re selfish.” you stand up, and his brow falls a tad, pushing his chin up slightly as if to assert dominance as he steps into your space.

“hey. we don’t speak like that.” he warns, voice lower and you resist the urge to cower.

“or what? you’re just gonna leave anyway.” regretfully, your bottom lip puffs out childishly and he sighs loudly, making his strong chest rise and fall through his muscle tee. he cups your cheek, brows raising and crinkling.

“being a brat isn’t for everyone, i hope you know that.” he comments and you sniff, trying to force your eyes from watering. “maybe you… just needed to let it out. get it all out your system.” he thinks out loud.

the ‘punishment’ you receive is far from traditional. no, he doesn’t spank you or anything like that. instead, you’re leant against his chest back in his bedroom with one hand at your mouth, fingers just resting on your tongue, stuck down your throat, and the other hand between your wide open legs, furiously rubbing at your clit as you whine and gag around his fingers.

“you know i love you, even if you get sassy on me. just… not taking my fingers out until i’m sure you’re not gonna use that pretty mouth to be mean to me. is that fair or no?” he coaxes and you respond with a wet gargle and a whimper. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

ੈ♡⸝⸝🍧⋆🩷₊⊹

[conarcoin]

Some of my favorite DSMP quotes I think are underrated:

"Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo? ...Nothing good." - Schlatt

"TommyInnit, I am a slow-burning fuse." - Wilbur

"History will forget that a country ever existed in this area." - Techno

"Let the space between the Badlands be total chaos. That's got nothing to do with us! Manberg? Pogtopia? Who cares!" - BBH

"Tommy, you just did a coup. You just did a hostile government takeover and then immediately instilled yourself as president. And then you gave it to your friend, but that's still a tyrant, Tommy!" - Techno

"I know I'm forgetful, I know I'm an amnesiac and I'm the comic relief in all your stories, but I still feel this- I still feel things!" - Ghostbur

"For what it's worth, I don't know what went on today. But even though you kidnapped me, and I'm still kinda dealing with the trauma, I think at the end of the day you're just a conflicted person, not a bad person... And I hope one day you find what you're looking for." - Connor

"If you wanted to stop us, you should have brought more than just yourself. You should have brought an army with you." - BBH

"You threw away my life for some kind of fucking sales pitch?" - Foolish

"I've been watching for a long time. One person lashes out and then the other does, until they're both gone. From what I've seen, it feels like people don't stop taking that revenge. Is it ever worth it?" - Slime

"You showed me that when you saw me, something malleable, and all of you made me into the worst parts of each." - Slime