#Professor Hardy Cross

[vannamondragon]

History of Reinforced Concrete and Structural Design

History of Reinforced Concrete and Structural Design

The average person thinks that concrete has been in common use for many centuries, but such is not the case. Although the Romans made cement – called Pozzolana – before Christ by mixing slaked lime with a volcanic ash from Mount Vesuvius and used it to make concrete for building, the art was lost during the Dark Ages 5th century -15th century A.D. and was not revived until eighteenth and…

View On WordPress

#Ernest L. Ransome #Great Pyramid of Giza #Joseph Monier #Professor Hardy Cross #Reinforced Concrete #Structural Analysis #Structural engineering #Vitruvius

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Self-Indulgent Series December: Granite Hills

It's December, and that means I get to be self-indulgent and give myself gifts, mainly the gift of looking at actors I like.

I give you my series of self-indulgence, Granite Hills (1990):

~~💀💀~~

Set in 1980 in the fictional town of Mudslide, Wisconsin, mainly at the Granite Hills university. This cast will be a mix of actors who would and wouldn't be available at the time.

The Show's Cast Includes:

Alfred Molina as Angel Ramon Vega [Age: 24]

Anjelica Huston as Sandy Cherry Lawson [Age: 26]

Billy Connolly as Professor Darwin Derryl Rigby [Age: 40]

Billy Crystal as Jethro Mephisto Butcher [Age: 25]

Brendan Fraser as Dallas Nathaniel Gray [Age: 23]

Carrie Fisher as Veronica Beverly Chambers [Age: 21]

Cary Elwes as Easton Markos White [Age: 27]

Chris Barrie as Douglass Wilfred Bernard [Age: 20]

Christina Applegate as Storm Hekla Jóhannsson [Age: 18]

Christopher Walken as Professor Karl Cai Lowell [Age: 40]

Craig Charles as Chuck Vance Sheppard [Age: 21]

Dan Aykroyd as Cesar Clay Leon [Age: 23]

Danny John-Jules as Quentin Kingston Hollister [Age: 21]

Daryl Hannah as Bernadette Daphne Jordan [Age: 24]

Diane Lane as Saffron Elouise Mason [Age: 19]

Fran Drescher as Monique Joanne Curtis [Age: 22]

Geena Davis as Erin Kermit Cantrell [Age: 28]

Gunnar Hansen as Thor Hjörtur Jóhannsson [Age: 48]

Harold Ramis as Edmund Morgan Blackburn [Age: 29]

Jack Black as Odin Hrafn Jóhannsson [Age: 21]

Jeff Bridges as Professor Kennedy Troy Gill [Age: 40]

Joe Pesci as Professor Jeremiah Emmit Jekyll [Age: 40]

John Belushi as Julian Noel Hood [Age: 25]

John Candy as Dale Randall Newman [Age: 26]

John Cusack as Andrew Simon Garfield [Age: 23]

John Goodman as Cyrus Lars Nielsen [Age: 27]

John Leguizamo as Alijah Mrlon Cross [Age: 29}

Judd Nelson as Colton Kenelm Coy [Age: 19]

Katey Sagal as Ramona Adrienne Dunn [Age: 25]

Kevin Bacon as Brad Nathan Hardy [Age: 25]

Kiefer Sutherland as Trenton Homer Abbey [Age: 21]

Luis Guzmán as Jaxxon Garrett Flores [Age: 29]

Mandy Patinkin as Elishua Saul Zebedaios [Age: 28]

Matt Dillon as Dennis Waylon Marley [Age: 20]

Matthew Lillard as Alexander Buddy Jones [Age: 19]

Oliver Platt as Ruben Manuel Valdez [Age: 22]

O'Shea Jackson (Sr.) as Tyrese Jordan Maxwell [Age: 18]

Philip Seymour Hoffman as Parris Hayes Grant [Age: 19]

Raul Julia as Professor Marcel Gomez Agua [Age: 40]

Ray Winstone as Holden Montgomery Lynn [Age: 27]

River Phoenix as Kent Horace Woodward [Age: 18]

Robin Williams as Jaycee Aramis Ellis [Age: 26]

Sean Young as Maxine Jade Upton [Age: 26]

Stanley Tucci as Luke Robin Flynn [Age: 22]

Steve Buscemi as Hugh Chester Sweeney [Age: 25]

Tom Hanks as Mark Everett Shaw [Age: 20]

Tony Shalhoub as Orlando Jaime Guerrero [Age: 25]

Val Kilmer as Earl Blue Dior [Age: 29]

Wayne Knight as Osborne Finnegan Jarvis [Age: 28]

William Baldwin as Theodore Joshua Ball [Age: 20]

Willem Dafoe as Terry Roosevelt Jepson [Age: 27]

#Granite Hills #original character #original characters #original writing #original series #alfred molina #anjelica huston #ben kingsley #billy connolly #billy crystal #brendan fraser #carrie fisher #cary elwes #chris barrie #christina applegate #christopher walken #craig charles #dan aykroyd #daryl hannah #diane lane #fran drescher #geena davis #gunnar hansen #harold ramis #jack black #jeff bridges #joe pesci #john belushi #john candy

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 2, chapter 1

Leon doesn’t understand her. After that moment in the pantry, he thought he won’t need the stupid plan of his. He thought that it was a sign that Hilal was finally softening up to him, and maybe, just maybe, they could be friends. But after that day, she went back to her cold hardy self, avoiding him and keeping it ‘professional’.

She also makes sure to make herself busy. She’d annotate readings, transcribe interviews, revising papers, and doing other tasks she can help with.

It didn’t help that Leon had his own workload to complete. Classes were picking up, and since he’s one of those teachers who give essay questions during exams and tests, he’s been reading and annotating as well.

He finally gets to have his plan in motion though. Since he knows that some of the faculty gives Hilal some tasks of their own, he decides to give her a few himself. He manages to get her email address from Carrie and writes to her that he needs help in photocopying a reading material for his students.

He asks for fifteen copies then waits an hour and tells her he actually needs ten more. He tells her a few minutes later than he needed fifteen more.

She walks into the faculty room and walks to his cubicle with purpose. Her expression was tense, but he could only think how cute she looks angry.

“Can I just confirm that you need forty copies in total?” she asks, raising her brow as if to challenge him to change the number.

“Yes, forty copies,” he says with a smile. “Also, after that, if you’re not doing anything important, can I ask you to return these books in the library?” He produces a short stack of books from the corner of his desk. “Today’s the due date and I don’t have the time to do it since I’ve got back-to-back classes later.”

She crosses her arms and looks at him suspiciously but takes the books anyway.

“Forty copies,” she says in finality.

“Forty copies.”

She leaves in a huff, her head scarf flowing behind her.

He smiles at the prospect of having her go to the library only to find out he only borrowed those books yesterday. Too bad he won’t be able to see her face when she comes back to the office.

It’s evil, he knows, but he really wants to see how this plays out.

This goes on for a few days. He makes her do these menial tasks like preparing a presentation for him, borrowing books from the library, scanning documents, and even getting her to proctor for an exam.

She takes all these with no complaints despite freely showing him her displeasure in whatever this is. Also, despite everything, she completes the tasks in high quality.

He’s surprised one day when she’s the one who approaches him first. He’s checking some papers in his cubicle when she knocks softly on one of the wall panels.

“Hilal?” he greets, taking his reading glasses off. He’s almost afraid she’s there to reprimand him for the tasks he’s been giving her. He recently made her look through the administrative files for Kalde’s older syllabi from the previous years. (“All of the old syllabi?” she asked through gritted teeth. “Yes, if that isn’t too much.”)

“It’s not my place,” she starts. “But I noticed something and I just had to point it out.”

“Sure, what is it?” Leon asks, already pulling a chair for her. She doesn’t even notice the chair, but she does place a few papers on his desk. It’s the syllabi he’s asking for.

“There’s a part in every syllabus that discusses historiographies all over the world,” she says, pointing towards each section in the syllabus containing the reading material and expected learning outcomes. “There’s a discussion here on Islamic historiography,” she continues. “And as you can see, Professor Kalde has been using one source consistently through the years.”

Leon reads the citation and frowns. “It’s pretty outdated, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Hilal agrees firmly. “I’ve come across this source before and it’s already been debunked. There has been better resources and introduction materials for Islamic historiographies and I don’t know if it’s a deliberate choice to include this here, or if it’s just a product of lazy research, but it’s bad either way.” She huffs as Leon studies the material again.

“That’s epistemically violent,” she says, crossing her arms.

He looks up from the material and smiles. “Brunner, Alcoff, or Garbe?”

“All three plus Galvan-Alvarez,” she says it as if it should be an obvious fact. “Since you’re revising his syllabus anyway, I thought to point this out.”

“Why? Because I’m a Greek cisgendered male and therefore you don’t trust me to give justice to your people?” he teases, leaning against his chair.

She frowns at him, her big blue eyes starting to stare him down. “I’m not playing any cards here.”

He lets it go. “I would have noticed it, just so you know,” he says. “You might say that we deal with outdated sources in philosophy, but I’m mindful of the fact that this is a historiography course. And this,” he points to Kalde’s syllabus. “Is epistemically violent, to use that same term, to the Islam community.”

She seems to relax at that.

“Thanks for pointing it out anyway, Hilal,” he says. “But I do admit, what I know of Islamic theory of history and philosophy is limited. And since you’re well-versed in this, I’d appreciate it if you could send me a list of sources I can read through.”

“Because you’re a white cisgendered male who specializes in Greek and Classical philosophy,” she continues.

Leon doesn’t even try to argue, but he does smile. “Unfortunately, yes. And that is why I’m humbly asking you to help this oppressor know better.”

She rolls her eyes and smiles. “I already have a list,” she says. “I’ll email them to you. Let me know if you have any trouble finding copies, and I’ll gladly lend mine to you.”

“So kind, Hilal.”

Hilal rolls her eyes again and gathers the syllabi copies. “Do you still need these or should I continue doing whatever it is you’re making me do?”

Leon shrugs. “I’ll just take the most recent syllabus and you can return the rest.”

She takes a deep breath, shuffles through the papers she has and slams the requested document on his table. “Alright then, glad to be of help.”

He watches her walk out of the cubicle, loving the familiar sight of her head scarf catching up with her angry gait.

Someone pokes their head out from one of the adjacent wall panels. He looks up to see his coworker, Lucy, an English woman who specialized in feminist history and gender studies. She also loves to assist (see: interfere) in his non-existent love life as if he didn’t get enough of that from his mother. She was also their department chair, and the reason why he was taking on Kalde’s classes for the next semester in the first place.

“Hello?” he greets.

“You know, you create this weird energy whenever you two are at it like that.” She places her arms on top of the panel and leans her chin against them.

“I don’t understand the majority of what you just said,” he says.

“Do you really want me to explain it to you?” she asks, smiling teasingly.

“Stop it, Luce. You’re reading into it too much, maybe you should stop consulting your crystals for a moment.“

She rolls her eyes but walks into his cubicle instead. “Leonidas,” she says it the same way a mother is ready to begin lecturing a child. She leans against his desk and smiles with her teeth. “I’m not reading into it too much, my dear.  It just so happens that you’re just easy to read. And Hilal too. Everyone’s noticed how you two act together, and it’s both cute and frustrating at the same time.”

“And how exactly do we act together?”

She smiles even wider. “Like children, really.”

He blinks and she laughs at his expression. “Like I said, it’s cute but it’s frustrating. It’s literally like watching children you know who like each other but they don’t know it themselves.”

“’Like each other’? Lucy, she barely tolerates me. And we’re…friends?”

She sighs fondly. “So cute, but so frustrating. I would love to spell it out for you, darling but you’re smarter than that.” She pats his cheek and has the audacity to squeeze. He swats her hand away.

“When will you stop doing that?”

“Don’t forget, dear, I’ve literally seen you as the fresh grad that you were. You’re always a child in my eyes.”

She ruffles his hair and walks back to her own space.

Leon can only huff in frustration before turning back to his own work.

He receives a notification from his phone and sees that Hilal has already sent him the list. He clicks at it immediately.

Professor,

Attached to this email is the list containing, in my opinion, the best resources for the Islamic historiography portion. As I have said earlier, please let me know if you have any difficulty finding copies.

Regards, Hilal

Why does she write to him like this? It’s frustrating but he can’t help but smile.

…

#hileon #hilal x leon #hilal #leonidas #papadopolous #vatanim sensin #wounded love #fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3fanfic #fanfic #ao3

[irlkisukeurahara]

Pokémon Unown Legends Tale - Free Snippet Teaser... Professor Hop vs Champion Skylar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hop grabbed a pokéball from his lap, grazing his finger over the embossing. He then tossed out the pokéball in front of him, revealing a Crobat with a prosthetic wing. Skylar grabbed a painted pokéball from her belt, painted a light blue and an off-white blue, with stripes on the side and a diamond on the top. She tossed out the Pokémon, revealing a Pokémon Hop didn't recognize. His eyebrows instantly raised, practically to his hairline.

“Woah!” Leon was taken aback by the Pokémon he saw. It had the face of a Purrugly but was lean and muscular instead of fat. It had light blue fur, accented with pale blue markings. Its front legs had two stripes on the side, and all four of its paws were a pale off-white blue color. It had a diamond shape on its thighs, and had a giant brown curly tail that wrapped around its neck like a scarf, with a pale blue moon on the end. It also had saber tooth fangs. “What is that?”

“Furroarst,” Kazarah grinned, crossing her arms. “A Pokémon from an unexplored region. It's an ice-type evolution of Purugly!”

“Holy shite,” Hop muttered to himself, just staring in fascination.

“I can see the Purugly on its face…” Leon chuckled a little, and Furroarst glanced at him, seeming annoyed, unable to tell if that was meant to be an insult or not. Leon leaned away, nervously chuckling.

“My daughter and I have several Pokémon on our team that I bet you've never seen before!” Kazarah gloated.

“Mom!” Skylar scolded, “You're distracting me.” She said with a slight hostility. As she looked back to the battlefield, without any warning, a Heat Wave was slammed up against Furroarst's face. “Frost!” She shouted, startled. She looked up from her Pokémon, at Hop and his Crobat. “Did he attack while they were talking..?” She muttered to herself, “But I didn't hear him call out a move…” Hop started laughing. He tapped both of his feet on the ground and held four fingers in front of his face. Crobat suddenly used Nasty Plot. It all made sense now… “You're commanding your Pokémon with motions!”

“It always leaves t'em wonderin' what's next.” Hop had a malicious grin on his face. “You can't afford to stop payin' attention! This is a battle!”

Skylar shook her head, slapping herself in the face to get her head in the game, “Use Hail, then Ice Fang!” She pointed at the Crobat. Furroarst ran at the Crobat at high speeds, catching the Pokémon off guard. He raised his prosthetic wing as a shield, and Furroarst bit down hard on it. The wing was damaged, and the Crobat seemed to screech in pain.

“Bucky!” Hop shouted. He raised his open palm in the air, grabbing a piece of the hail in his hand. He crushed it in his hand, “Fly strong and destroy t'is feckin' cat!” He yelled with almost a snarl in his voice. He tossed the hail in front of him, clapping and snapping his fingers. At point-blank range, Bucky released a Heat Wave at the cat Pokémon. Furroarst screeched, headbutting Bucky and hopping backward. Its long brown tail fell from its neck, its fur flayed. Furroarst hissed, shaking its tail back and forth before sweeping it back around its neck. Hop stared in stunned awe. “I've used two Nasty Plots…and have attacked with Heat Wave twice…” he started to chuckle, “Yet that cat still stands! That's impressive, unbelievable! I t'ought my Dubwool disobeyed the laws of physics…But this!” He laughed, “THIS! Ohoho, I'd have to get my hands on one of those feckers.”

“My Pokémon are incredibly hardy! They don't tend to go down after less than three hits.” She bragged, “Ice Fang!” Furroarst ran at Bucky again, managing to bite his body instead of just his wing. Hop's eye twitched, annoyed by Skylar's brag.

“What kind'a nonsense is t’at? Ya gonna magically survive an OH-KO move just cause of t'e magic of friendship and plot armor?” Hop grumbled sarcastically.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Skylar chuckled a little, with a hint of nervousness. “It's just a statistic based on my battles over the years.” Hop yawned.

“Look at ya. Tryin' to use the word statistic to try to appeal more to t'e scientist in me, ey?” He leaned forward, “No way you phrase it is gonna make me give any more of a shite about your braggin'!” He clapped his hands and snapped fingers once more, Bucky sending another Heat Wave at Furroarst.

#fanfic #au #writing #writing snippet #Pokemon Unown Legends Tale #pokemon #pokémon #pokémon au #pokemon au #pokemon fanfic #hop pokemon #hop pkmn #professor hop #pokemon oc #pokémon oc #crobat #fakemon #purugly

[breezybirdfarms]

The Ridley Bronze Turkey: A Triumph of Collaboration and Innovation

The Ridley Bronze Turkey holds a significant place in the history of Canadian poultry farming, thanks to the remarkable efforts of individuals like John Richardson and Judge Arthur O. Ridley. In this blog post, we will delve into the captivating story behind the Ridley Bronze Turkey, exploring the breeds involved in its development and shedding light on its historical significance.

The Development of the Ridley Bronze Turkey: During the 1960s, John Richardson, a distinguished professor of poultry science at the University of Saskatchewan, recognized the potential of the Ridley Bronze Turkey for Canadian farmers. To bring this breed to Canada, Richardson collaborated closely with Judge Arthur O. Ridley, the original creator of the breed.

Breeds Involved in the Development: The Ridley Bronze Turkey is the result of a deliberate crossbreeding program. Judge Ridley initially crossed a commercial strain of Broad Breasted Bronze turkeys with a heritage breed called the Narragansett turkey. The aim was to combine the superior meat quality and size of the Broad Breasted Bronze turkey with the hardiness and adaptability of the Narragansett turkey. This crossbreeding resulted in the foundation stock of the Ridley Bronze Turkey.

Further Refinement in Canada: Once the Ridley Bronze Turkey breeding stock arrived in Canada, John Richardson and his team at the University of Saskatchewan embarked on a mission to further develop and improve the breed. They meticulously conducted selective breeding programs, focusing on enhancing specific traits such as meat quality, size, and adaptability to Canadian climates. The team's dedication and expertise played a crucial role in refining the breed and making it well-suited for Canadian turkey production systems.

Historical Significance: The introduction of the Ridley Bronze Turkey in Canada marked a significant turning point in the country's poultry industry. Prior to its arrival, Canadian turkey farmers primarily relied on imported breeds. However, the Ridley Bronze Turkey quickly gained popularity due to its exceptional meat quality, adaptability, and suitability for Canadian farming conditions. This breed became a symbol of collaboration, innovation, and the resilience of Canadian poultry farmers.

The journey of the Ridley Bronze Turkey is a testament to the remarkable collaboration and innovation that can shape the course of an industry. From Judge Arthur O. Ridley's initial crossbreeding efforts to John Richardson's dedicated work in Canada, the Ridley Bronze Turkey has left an indelible mark on the Canadian poultry farming landscape. Today, this breed continues to be cherished for its superior qualities, making it a true triumph of agricultural ingenuity.

True Heritage Ridley Bronze Turkey hatching eggs are available in Canada through Breezy Bird Farms. Poults are also available for pick up only in limited supply.

Candace Breezy Bird Farms

#ridleybronzeturkey #heritiageturkeybreed #preservingtraditions #heirloomturkeys #canadianturkeybreed #turkeymeat #bronzeturkey #heritageturkeys #farmtotable #historyofridleybronzeturkeys

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Homegrown research team to put plants on the Moon

A bold plan to grow seedlings on the Moon by 2026 has been funded by the Australian Government, in what could reveal a greater understanding of horticulture in extreme environments. 

The Australian Lunar Experiment Promoting Horticulture (ALEPH) project led by local start-up Lunaria One – with RMIT, QUT and ANU as the major Australian university partners along with industry bodies – has just received $3.6 million as part of the Australian Space Agency’s Moon to Mars Initiative.  

Investigating whether seedlings can grow on the lunar surface is of fundamental biological interest and important to know for possible future space exploration, but it could also teach us more about growing plants in a changing climate here on Earth. 

Lunaria One co-founder and engineering lead for the project, RMIT’s Dr Graham Dorrington, said the seeds and plants will be transported in a specially designed and hermetically sealed chamber – equipped with sensors, water and a camera – aboard a lunar lander scheduled for a mission in 2026. 

“Our major challenge is designing the chamber to maintain suitable conditions to permit germination on the lunar surface, where the external surface temperature fluctuates from highs of 80°C to lows of –180 °C,” said Dorrington, from RMIT’s School of Engineering. 

The chamber also needs to be lightweight – no more than 1.5 kg – and able to operate on minimal power while transmitting data via the lander back to Earth, using data rates of less than 40 kb/s. 

“These are considerable challenges, but we have the necessary staff and facilities here at RMIT to succeed," he said. 

RMIT will also contribute expertise in plant biology from the School of Science, led by Associate Professor Tien Huynh. 

“We know some plants grow differently in altered gravity conditions, but don’t yet fully understand how and why,” she said.  

“In addition, the harsh lunar environment has a thin atmosphere, rapidly changing temperatures, and relatively poor soil properties, meaning that whatever we grow on the surface will need to be hardy.” 

One of the plants being considered for the mission is Rapeseed (Brassica napus), a yellow-flowered plant grown for a range of food production and industrial uses. 

“Preliminary results suggest this could be a good candidate as far as extreme temperature tolerance and germination speed for surviving a mission to the Moon or Mars,” Huynh said. 

After landing on the lunar surface, the plants' growth and general health will be monitored and data and images will be beamed back to Earth. RMIT will also be contributing computer science expertise for data compression to enable this part of the operation. 

RMIT Deputy Vice-Chancellor STEM College and Vice-President, Professor Ian Burnett, said the cross disciplinary research could provide valuable insights into how to support horticulture in extreme climates on Earth. 

"We view the development of this lunar payload as an excellent opportunity to tackle extreme engineering and biological challenges that will likely lead to terrestrial benefits as well as answers for space exploration," he said. 

Citizen scientists and school children from around the world will be invited to use this data to conduct their own experiments into which plant varieties have the best chance of growing on the Moon.   

Lunaria One Director, Lauren Fell, said the central value guiding this project was that space exploration is for everyone. 

“We don’t want a future where only autonomous and remote-controlled machines inhabit realms beyond earth, but where humans can live and thrive,” she said. 

“The key to this is to get humans involved and to give them a say in how we get there. The ALEPH project aims to open up the science and engineering behind growing life on the Moon so that anyone can be involved.”  

The collaboration with Lunaria One will bolster RMIT’s growing space industry eco-system, united under the university’s Space Industry Hub.  

In all, a dozen RMIT engineers, scientists, educators and industrial design students are contributing to the project. 

Ben Gurion University in Israel will contribute their expert knowledge to the plant biology team, coordinating the inputs of international experts. ANU will organise supporting workshops.  

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #esa #spacetimewithstuartgary #starstuff #spacetime #asa

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

After a little research, it looks like the South Downs is not far from Broadchurch (or more accurately, West Bay in Dorset) . Perhaps certain characters may cross paths?

(‘Moving Forward’ or Vardy, whichever is easier. But a certain grumpy detective could probably use a miracle for any number of reasons!)

Hmmm, let's go with Moving Forward and then Vardy for a different ask!

On with the fic!

--

"There's such a sad air to this place."

Hardy heard a familiar, yet accented, voice say from somewhere nearby. It couldn't have been Bill, he was finishing up at work and would be meeting him here in a bit, he couldn't have been here this early.

He glanced about the area, from where he sat near the fountain by the pier, and spotted two strange figures. Having lived here long enough, Hardy had become used to so many faces here, not names, but he knew people well enough. These two were strangers, and didn't look like the happy tourists who came here, or the creepy people who came here to see where Danny had...

No, these two stood out in a different way.

The one he assumed had spoke was the man in a beige jacket, dressed too nicely for a seaside town like this. He reminded Hardy of a librarian or a professor in a university. He had such a sad look on his face as he looked about.

Next to him was a spindly man, all limps and sharp angles, with red hair and sunglasses, even though the day was a bit overcast. He looked like trouble, but Hardy felt that the worst he could do was a dumb prank, like gluing coins to the ground. Annoying and an inconvenience, but nothing that was worth Hardy's time.

"What makes you say that, angel?" The taller man asked.

"It's just... there's love here, you can tell, it's often the feeling in small towns like this, but yet there is this..." The softer man gestured with his hands. "There is this cloud of sadness that hangs over the town, like something bad happened."

"Somethin' bad did happen here."

"Oh dear..."

Hardy frowned, he shouldn't be listening in, but they were the only people around and they didn't even seem to notice that he was sitting there.

"I remember reading about this, it was all over the papers for weeks back in... 2013? I think? It was when we were at the Dowling's, remember?"

The softer man nodded, his face grim. "Oh, that poor boy. Yes, I do remember. I didn't even realize this was that same town."

"Yeah, but they got the bastard who did it." The other man sniffed, putting his hands in his pockets. "Well, that's what I heard, I stopped followin' after a while, got distracted with Warlock."

"We got him, but he was found not guilty by a shitty justice system." Hardy found himself saying, and caught the attention of the other two men.

The blond looked rather surprised at him, before his face softened, he clearly wore his heart on his sleeve, reminded Hardy a bit of Miller.

If Miller... looked oddly enough like Bill, what the hell?

Darken the hair, dressed him in a lab coat, and give him a stronger bastard energy and this man would look just like Bill. Hell, he's even in a bow tie.

"Gosh, that's terrible to hear." The man said, damn, he did sound like Bill if Bill was from London.

"I told ya, angel." The taller one sighed dramatically. "The justice system is a load of shite. Kid killers can just walk the streets if you sway the jurors in that direction."

"Well, the case wasn't exactly working for either sides' favor, really." Hardy frowned, why was he talking to these two? "But a group of twelve stupid people decided that the evidence meant nothing."

He still couldn't believe it, it's been nearly three years and he still couldn't believe the bullshit that happened during that trial. The only positive to come from it was getting Sandbrook solved.

The one called 'angel' approached and sat himself down next to Hardy. "This appears to be weighing heavily on your mind. Were you involved in the case?"

"DI for it, actually." Again, why was Hardy speaking to them like this, normally he kept his mouth shut when he knew he didn't need to say anything.

But something about this man brought him an odd comfort that he rarely felt around others.

"I see, that explains why you carry so much of it on your shoulders." The man mumbled to himself.

"What happened to him? The guy who killed the kid?" The taller one asked, walking over to sit on Hardy's other side. It was weight, from how they presented themselves, which sides they sat on, it was almost like a shoulder angel and devil situation.

"He was ran out of town. I don't know where he is, but he can never return, no one here would ever take him back, especially not his wife. I know her, she's my best friend, my work partner, she'd kill him if she ever found out he ever came close to town."

Why couldn't he shut up? They were strangers, he didn't even know their names!

"Good girl, that's the way to go about dealing with horrible men!" A smirk came to the redhead's lips and the other man sighed.

"Well, he's gone, and it's clear he will not return. I am sure that soon, in due time, he will get what he deserved for what he had done." The blond man smiled softly, honestly, patting Hardy's hand.

"Oh, it'll happen, especially when he least suspects it." The other man said, and Hardy swore he heard a snap.

Hardy raised an eyebrow. "Alright..?"

"Trust us," the blond smiled still, "things like this tend to work out on their own. We should get going, I do believe you seem to be waiting for someone and it would be rude to linger about. Come along, dear boy, I do believe there is an ice cream shop nearby."

"Uh, yeah, down the road, near the little shops right off from the docks." Hardy pointed and got a brighter smile for this.

"Oh, how delightful, thank you, uhh..."

"Alec Hardy."

"Aziraphale Fell." Was the response, and he got a handshake. "And my companion here is Anthony Crowley."

"Yo." Crowley said, getting up in a way that seemed like he didn't have to do it so dramatically, but he wanted to. "Let's go, angel. I think his ride's here."

Hardy noticed past Aziraphale that Bill had just arrived, parking on the side of the street, giving a small wave. Aziraphale turned, waving at him before turning back to Hardy. "I do hope that you have a lovely rest of your day, that something good will happen, Mr. Hardy."

"Uhh... thank you?" Hardy blinked, Aziraphale had his hand cupped in his own, and they felt warm for a moment, then it was gone.

"Let's go!" Crowley called, he was already walking away.

Aziraphale huffed, letting go of Crowley's hands, before smiling at Hardy. "Until we meet again, my friend." And he hurried off to catch up with Crowley.

Hardy sat there for a second, then looked at his hand. Huh. He got up, going to the car and slipped inside, with Bill looking at him funny. "New friends?"

"I have no idea." Hardy replied.

"Right." Bill pulled away from the curb and started to drive. "Say, did you notice that the guy in black kind of looked a bit like you?"

#broadchurch #good omens #masters of sex #alec hardy #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #bill masters #ineffable husbands #illogical husbands #john's drabbles #moving forward au #good omens extended universe

[galaxseacreature]

I'm turning my "Morning, Kimothy" post into a longer fic (wild, i know)

And for awhile I considered having Harry use nicknames for everyone, all the time. For my sanity I decided I had to stay focused on Kim. Just not before I had done some possibly delirious late night brainstorming. So. Nicknames of extremely mixed quality below the cut

Garte

Barkeep, Gargle, Gatekeep, Grump, Garbage Man, Garbage Guardian, Rubbish Keeper, Landlord, Buzzkill

Siileng

Hustler, Silver tongue, Charmer, Style Express, Urban Outfitter, My Man! *finger guns*

Tommy

Laureate, Sad Eyes, The Yearner, Tomski, Tombo, Timmy, Sweet T, Chicken Tendie, Songsmith, Thinker, Soulsearcher, Brother, Bro, Brah

Lena

Dear, Ma'am, Young Lady, Honey, Phasmidnator, Rolling Bestiary

Evrart

Big Man (derogatory), Bully, Mr. Union, Box Office, Puppeteer, Chairman, Showboat, Union Boss, Boss Man, Bossy Pants, Manipulate Mansplain Murder, Meanie, Heartless, Facade, Ambidexter

Joyce

All the Deuills are Here, Ultra, Ms Boat, Ms Yacht, Captain, Skipper, Privateer, Wild Pines, The Rep, Ma'am, J Crew, Jolly, Teach, Reality Guide, Realtor, Professor, Shark, Negotiator, Cash Grab, Benefactor, Philanthropist, Soulless, Heartless, Ruthless, Company, Management, Rich Girl, Disco Sister

Ruby

Lady Driver, Odd Sole, Suspect, Killer, Tech Wiz, Radio Genius, Wild Goose, Snipe, Spider, Runner, Fugitive, Star Crossed

Klassje

Ha! No, you're not going to beat her at her own game. Know your limits.

Titus

Big Guy (affectionate), Tough, T Bone, T Rex, Ty, Hard On, Hard Head, Titan, Titty, Tipping Point, Sergeant Tit, Commander T, Hardie Har Har

Hardie Boys

Hardly Boys, Titus's Tykes, Dog Pack, Toughs, Gang, Rowdy Lot, Union Enforcers, Extortionists, Alleged Muscle

Cuno

Kuuno, That Kid, Gremlin, Boy, Max Velo, King, Night City Watchman, You Again, Such Forces, Force of Nature, Junior

Trant

Encyclopedia Trantica, Nerd, Chatterbox, Special Consultant Backpedal

Jean

Man With Sunglasses, Shady, G Bevy, G Bev, Geeb, Bastard, Hypothetical Partner, So Called Officer, J Man, Jelly Bean, JV, Junior Varsity, J Vic, Jay, Jay Bird, Art Cop, Mural Apologist, The Last Art Critic, Preservationist, Partner, Comrade, Guardian, John-o, Johnny, Prankster, Funny Guy, Jolly, Vice-mare, Vice Squad, Vick, Hassler, Interrogator, Stake Out, Nanny, Babysitter, Minder, Handler, Lifeline, Sunshine

#disco elysium #jean vicquemare #joyce messier #evrart claire #garte #titus hardie #hardie boys #siileng #tommy le homme #lena #ruby #klaasje #cuno #trant heidelstam #some people were just really fun to make up names for #joyce absolutely deserves nickname privileges #so does jean of course but i don't think he's take most of the options on offer atm too well #sorry to all the characters not included by this time i realized that down this path lay madness in fully rewriting the game #but here's a secret: the smoker on the balcony will be making an appearance because i cannot resist #mine

[that-scouse-wizard]

HPHL Profile: Reuben Willows

General Information

Full name: Reuben Patrick Willows

Gender: Cis Male

DOB: 17/07/18XX

Species: Human

Blood status: Pure-blood

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Neutral Good

Ethnicity: White-Irish

Nationality: Irish

Residence: Dublin, Ireland

Later, the Llwelyn Manor

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ENFP, the Campaigner

Special ability: Legilimens

Character Summary: Level-headed though as stubborn as a mule, Reuben Willows is a natural born Legilimens. A love for all things draconic inspires the studious Ravenclaw to become a Dragonoligist. Perhaps he could use his abilities to better understand the minds of the beasts he is so fascinated with. Though he appears intimidating, just don’t voice open support of the Ministry (especially the Warlock’s Convention of 1709) around him and you’ll be fine.

Personality

Artistic: Reuben is very much fond of drawing, finding it quite relaxing, he loves drawing landscapes and people’s portraits.

Calm: Reuben is usually non-confrontational about most topics, except for how competent the Ministry really is, then he’ll absolutely tear into it.

Cocky: Reuben can get a bit arrogant about his achievements when he does well in them. It’s resulted in a few close shaves when handling magical creatures.

Competitive: As a beater on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Reuben always encourages a healthy sense of competition between the other houses though even he needs to be careful about crossing the line.

Empathetic: Reuben’s Legilimens abilities allows him to sense how others are feeling, often giving him insight on how best to approach them in the moment. This has gone so far as even being able to calm dragons down.

Hard-working: Work on his grandparents farm/ farm shop reinforced the ideal of hard, honest work in him. There’s no real shortcut to success in his eyes.

Loyal: Reuben has a great sense of loyalty to his grandparents and to friends who show it.

Stubborn: Reuben has the Willows’ family infamous stubbornness, it’s not often he’ll falter from his position on something.

Witty: Despite his imposing size and build, Reuben would much prefer to use brain over brawn unless he absolutely has to.

Appearance

Face claim: Hafthor Bjornsson

Voice claim:

Game appearance: TBA

Physique: Athletic, broad-shouldered, pretty much a walking wall of muscle.

Hair colour: Dark brown.

Eye colour: Grey.

Hair style: Usually keeps it cropped short.

Height: 6′1′’

Weight: 85kg (when full grown)

Scarring: Has three major ones. A bowtruckle scratch down the length of the upper side of his left forearm. One on his right elbow after landing roughly when a cow on his grandparents’ farm chased him. One on his abdomen from an especially feisty Welsh Green wyrmling (baby dragon) after it whipped him with its tail. Also has several on his back from his dad took a belt to him

Body modifications: Has two tattoos on his chest, depicting the heads of a Hungarian Horntail (his favourite dragon species) and an Irish Ironhead (an original dragon). On his upper right arm, a depiction of a Welsh Green, similarly on his upper left arm, a Norwegian Ridgeback. No piercings.

Inventory: His wand, a sketchbook, a journal, his writing/drawing equipment and most importantly, his Irish Ironhead dragon fang necklace..

Fashion: Aside from his Quidditch attire during a match and robes for lessons, Reuben tends to wear very hardy materials one would expect a farmer to wear.

Think this style: 

However, Reuben will definitely dress up well for any formal event, most likely will wear bronze and blue..

Background/History:

Pre-Hogwarts:

-Reuben was born close to Dublin, Ireland to auror parents, their only child.

-Unfortunately, the two of them desired to see Reuben gain the influence of an auror just as they had. 

-They effectively tried to groom Reuben for this career path to an abusive extent, especially to make his Legilimens abilities work as a lie detector of sorts..

-One such measure taken was severing Reuben’s contact with his grandparents when he was nine. Previously, the happiest Reuben had been was working on their farm/farm shop that provided for the local wizarding community. His parents began to feel this was a distraction which prompted the separation.

First year: .

-Despite his best efforts he just doesn’t have a knack for DADA, something that infuriates his parents.

-He meets several of his lifelong friends including the three who would make up his found family, Cledwyn Ironwood, Faith Renner and Marigold Sterling

Second year:

-He learns via letter from his grandad that his grandmother has passed away, enclosed in the letter is small, sharp, serrated tooth perfect for snipping grass and shrubs. The fang of an extinct herbivorous dragon species called the Irish Ironhead, it’s been fashioned into a necklace. One that he wears proudly whenever he’s at Hogwarts.

-Between the summer of second and third year, Siobhan Llwelyn invites him to spend some time at the dragon sanctuary, where Reuben meets his hero, Edwin Llwelyn.

Third year:

-TBA

Fourth year:

-TBA

Fifth year

-TBA:

Sixth year

-Finally after years of trying to avoid or take a sticks and stones approach to his parent’s abuse, Reuben snaps. By this point, he’s fully grown and very strong, he drags his father outside the family home and pummels him to within an inch of his life. 

-He doesn’t give his father the satisfaction of dying, instead opting to spit on his beaten, bloodied form. Then giving both of his parents a stark warning to stay away from him, he doesn’t want them in his life anymore.

Seventh year:

-Reuben’s main residence outside of Hogwarts is his grandparent’s farm, looking after his grandfather in his failing health when he can. 

-Just after he graduates, his grandfather passes away.

Post-Hogwarts:

-Reuben’s budding skills as a dragonologist come to full fruition under the tutelage of Edwin. The apprenticeship lasts for a solid three years before Edwin officially hires Reuben. 

-Two years after that, Siobhan returns from her five year long journey, staying on as a consultant but having no desire to take over the sanctuary.

-Instead (much to Reuben’s surprise) Siobhan thinks he should take over the sanctuary.

-Reuben spends the rest of his days helping to rehabilitate the dragons on the sanctuary, becoming a renowned dragonologist of the time. 

-He documents successes and failures in rearing the dragons, publishing his findings in a series of books. Occasionally being a bit scathing of the Ministry in certain passages.

Family:

Father: Declan Willows

Face Claim: Adam Pettyfer

A harsh man with utter disdain for his son’s aspirations, Declan is very much uncompromising and loathes the thought of his only child rebelling against him. His own upbringing from his father being too much of push over, seeing how it affected his family is it what turned him into the cruel, bitter patriarch of the Willows family

Mother: Sophie Willows (nee Neylan)

Face claim: Anne Hathaway

Similarly to her husband, hates Reuben’s interest in animals and magical creatures. Unlike her parents, despises the thought of being a farmer, hence why she chose to become an auror for the influence it gave.

Her strained relationship with her parents would come to a head when she forbade Reuben from having any contact with them when he was nine.

Grandmother: Aislin Willows (nee Nic Naois)

Face Claim: Judi Dench

A kind and loving grandmother, utterly devoted to her only grandson, Aislin would encourage Reuben’s love of the natural world. Something that caused further tension in the already strained relationship with her daughter Sophie, coming to a head when Reuben was separated from her and her husband, Nathan.

Sadly, she would pass away during Reuben’s second year, having not seen him face-to-face for three years. However, her last gift to him would be the fang of an Irish Ironhead she managed to acquire.

Grandfather: Nathan Willows

Face claim: Patrick Stewart

A devoted grandfather to Reuben and someone who instilled the value of hard work into him. Also fond of teaching his grandson how to bake cakes and how to run a business in the family’s farm and farm shop.

He was heartbroken when Reuben was taken from him and Aislin, but even more so when Aislin would pass away after a few years. His own failing health would sadly mean he passed away just after Reuben graduated but at least had the chance to spend his last days with his grandson by his side.

Granddaughter: Rue Willows

Face Claim: Fiona O’Carroll

Having a similar relationship to himself and his own grandparents, Reuben greatly encourages Rue’s decision to go into Dragonology. Even if it is under the employ of the Ministry as part of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau.

He would go so far as to gift Rue his dragon fang necklace, that she would then pass on to her son, David.

Though he would never live long enough to meet his great-grandsons, Reuben had an indirect impact on David’s life. David would befriend Charlie Weasley after the boy recognises his relation to Reuben. David is also encouraged by Murphy McNully (a Ravenclaw in David’s AU) to try out for Quidditch after hearing about Reuben’s exploits on the Quidditch pitch. David is gifted Reuben’s dragon fang necklace by Rue after their relationship improves. 

Allegiances:

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Affiliations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Llwelyn dragon sanctuary.

Professions: Trainee dragonologist (for three years)

Dragonologist/Author: Rest of his life until retirement.

Hogwarts Information

Astronomy: E

Charms: A

DADA: P

Flying: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: E

Potions: P

Transfiguration: E 

Electives:

COMC: O

Divination: E

Muggle studies: P

Quidditch:

Ravenclaw Beater (later captain)

Favourite professors

-TBA

Least Favourite Professors

-TBA

Best canon friends

-TBA

Love Interest

-If you’d like your MC to be Reuben’s love interest, let me know!

Best MC friends:

Cledwyn Ironwood, though Cledwyn was very much a dour Gryffindor when they first met with time, the two would form a bond as close as brothers. Reuben often acting as Cledwyn’s voice of reason.

Danny Gibson (@catohphm) a dorm mate of Reuben’s and the seeker on the Quidditch team, the two develop quite a close friendship. On the Quidditch pitch, Danny knows Reuben will keep the bludgers off his back.

Faith Renner, despite her hostile attitude for a Hufflepuff, Reuben made it a mission to befriend her after becoming quite interested in how she would make colourful fish hooks. They would become close friends, bonding a bit more in COMC class.

Leila Hellebore (@whatwouldvalerydo) A beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team, immediately marking her to be a rival. Reuben enjoys the competition with her and even finds the fact that he’s over a foot taller than her quite adorable.

Marigold Sterling, though Mary was quite intimidating, Reuben and Marigold would more often than not find themselves studying together. It would take time but she would eventually open up to him, trusting him with the secret that she was a maledictus and would later ask him to join her in helping to break her curse.

Siobhan Llewelyn (@kc-needs-coffee​) A fellow Ravenclaw and dragonologist, Reuben was initially quite endeared to her relation to Edwin Llewlyn. However, he soon broke past that, becoming a close friend to Siobhan, to the extent of being allowed to eventually take over management of the Llwelyn dragon sanctuary.

Message me if you would like Reuben to be your MC’s friend!

Rivals:

Leila Hellebore (during Quidditch)

Enemies:

-Dragon poachers

Magical abilities:

Wand: Hazel, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches, unyielding flexibility.

Hazel wands often reflect its owner’s emotional state and work best for a master who understands and can manage their own feelings. Others should be very careful handling a hazel wand if its owner has recently lost their temper, or suffered a serious disappointment because the wand will absorb such energy and discharge it unpredictably. It is capable of outstanding magic in the hands of the skilful and is so devoted to its owner that it often ‘wilts’ at the end of their master's life. Hazel wands also have the unique ability to detect water underground and will emit silvery, tear-shaped puffs of smoke if passing over concealed springs and wells.

Dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most magic power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Animagus: N/A

Misc magical abilities: 

Legilimens: A natural born Legilimens, Reuben has the ability to sense people’s emotional states, allowing him to gain insight on how best to approach a situation. Even developing it further to be able to see through the eyes of people and animals.

Boggart form: His grandma calling him a disappointment.

Riddikiulus form: His grandma takes out a vial of babbling beverage, chugs it and proceeds to speak nonsense, something she would do to make him laugh if he was feeling down.

Amortentia (what do they smell like): Wood smoke and brandy.

Amortentia (what do they smell): Fresh grass and cloves.

Patronus: Jack Russel

Patronus memory: His grandfather bringing him a cake for his birthday.

Specialised/ Favourite spells:

Bombarda (Maxima): Only done as an absolute last resort if he’s dealing with a dragon that he can’t calm down. A charm that he’s practiced time and again in order to concentrate into a much more potent version. 

Conjunctivitus curse: If a dragon is being aggressive but Reuben still has a way out, this his go-to spell. Blinding them can give him a chance to get out safely.

Duro: Useful for strengthening materials used in enrichment for the dragons or just making them more resilient.

Finite: Doesn’t wish to have the debilitating effects of the Conjunctivitus curse or Incarcerous be permanent, so uses this to dispel them when he needs to.

Incarcerous: Summoning ropes to bind or restrain something is always handy to have.

Incendio: Being able to concentrate it into a powerful gout of fire is one way to get a dragon’s attention.

Reparo: Always a handy spell to have when you can just repair a worn or broken piece of equipment. Reuben scarcely needs to throw out his work clothes thanks to this.

#harry potter hogwarts legacy #hphl #hphl mc #hphl oc #reuben willows

[buckyownsmylife]

Touch-A Touch-A Touch me - Sebastian Stan Smut

The one where Sebastian is your professor and you’ve been together for a while, but no one can know.

Warnings: light smut, kinda gross conversations between men, groping but not much more than that

Sebastian’s P.O.V.

She was doing it again. With her doe, innocent eyes and little smiles, lighting up the whole room with her bright personality, inadvertently catching the attention of every male in the present, my colleagues included. For a minute I caught myself regretting my dismissive ways when she suggested to stay at home instead of going to the cocktail organized by the university’s administration in honour of the new merit scholarship students. 

Of course, her reasoning had more to do with her fear of our close proximity in the celebratory environment alerting my or her colleagues of our less than ethical bond, but I couldn’t deny the fact that I having to watch her from afar, with her long red dress teasing just enough thigh and decolletage to raise every man’s attention without making her look slutty, was slowly but surely killing me. 

I hated that I couldn’t run my fingers across her skin, watch the goosebumps rise as I had done so many times. I hated that I couldn’t cross the room, gather her in my arms and kiss the living soul out of her, merging it with mine, just so we would never have to be apart again. The fact that it would show my competition that she had someone, that she was mine, was just a bonus, albeit an extremely satisfactory one. 

Just as my thoughts began to consume me, she turned slightly in my direction, giving me a sweet but discreet smile. As usual, my heart picked up at that and I fought the urge to grin like a doofus, trying to focus on what Chris was saying before I made a fool of myself.

Despite how difficult this was, I was happy that she had come. Not only was it her right, as the deserved new receptor of an award for our department, her presence made this night less boring that it would be, had I not had her presence to distract me.

I was just about close to recollect my thoughts and understand what Professor Winchester was talking about when Thomas Hardy, one of the professors in the theater department and a friend since we had studied at the same university a few years before, approached me.

“She’s fuckin’ hot, ain’t she?” He whispered, just loud enough for me to hear and I wasn’t sure if my heart raced to such a speed where I wasn’t able to feel it beating anymore or if it had stopped working altogether. Did he know? “Is she one of yours? I’ve never seen her before.”

“One of mine what?” I managed to let out, trying my best to not let any emotion escape from my troubled mind.

“One of your students, man. C’mon, where is your head? I know she’s hot, but has it been this long without getting laid that you have forgotten how to behave when you see a gorgeous woman?” I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. Oh, right. This is what he was on about. 

As men, despite our professionalism, it was impossible not to comment on the physique of some of our students and it had become a habit to make comparisons or comment on each others’ luck or mischance for being stuck with a particularly beautiful girl. I had completely forgotten, since Y/N came to my life. No one could ever come close to her.

He didn’t know anything about us.

“Oh yeah, she’s mine… I mean, one of mine.” I quickly corrected my almost Freudian slip, thankfully only provoking a funny look from the British man. 

“Damn, that enticing, huh?” He turned around to give her a good look again and I felt stuck between the desire to punch the life out of him for looking at Y/N like that and pretending I didn’t care enough to give any reaction. He licked his lips, his attention still trapped on her admittedly mesmerizing ways before continuing. “I wouldn’t mind losing my job if it meant getting to bend her over a desk and nailing her from behind. Look at that ass...”

That was too much for me. I excused myself from our little group and our particular conversation and quickly walked to the first corridor of the Dean’s mansion I could find. With my mind still distracted by images of Y/N and Tom, it took some time to realise I was close to the toilets and when I finally did, I opened the first door and got inside, opening the tap to splash some water on my face.

I tried taking deep breaths to calm myself down and despite the fact that I could still envision the scene Tom had just described, my heart rate was back to normal and I wasn’t gripping the counter hard enough to make my knuckles white. 

A low tap on the door interrupted my thoughts.

“Professor Stan, are you there?” Without a second of hesitation, I jotted open the door and pulled the woman I had been thinking about inside. “Oh my God, you scared me,” she giggled as she practically fell upon my chest, where I held her, trying my best to calm my senses by the feeling of her warm body in my arms.

“And you have been torturing me, so I think we’re even,” I softly argued, still enamored by her sweet eyes and perfect plush lips. Her eyebrows raised in surprise and she captured her bottom lip between her teeth, concern in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I have been trying my best to not raise anyone’s suspicion… What did I do wrong? Did someone ask you anything?” I smiled at her worry, not being able to stop myself from leaning down and taking her lips with mine. She slowly relaxed into the kiss, her hands flying up to grasp my hair and I had to let her go to take a deep breath and stop myself from moaning.

“What is going on?” She asked, a laugh almost escaping from her amused smile, her eyes traveling across my face in search of any sign of what was going on inside my mind.

“Nothing,” I turned her around so that her back was to me, before pulling her close to my own body, making sure she felt the boner I had been trying to control ever since I had laid eyes on her that night right over her incredible ass. “Just make sure you go back there and continue to be a good girl. I don’t want any men even touching you tonight. It’s bad enough that I can’t. And baby...” I let my hands wander inside her dress, my fingers quickly finding a nipple to pull on. “... I know it’s not in your nature, but try your best not to be a fucking tease. I don’t want anyone eye fucking you across the room, only I get to do that.”

After a particularly rough tug that elicited a gasp from her, I let her nipple go, but not before whispering in her ear. “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” And with a final slap to her butt, I let her get back to the event, knowing from the smell that she had left behind the tiny bathroom she would be dripping for me when I finally managed to get her out of that damn dress later.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan insert #sebastian stan insert fanfiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan writing #my fics #smut #sebastian stan

[songbirdstyles]

Ok but what about prof harry when y/n is studying for a class that she really doesn’t understand and he like tries to help her, giving her pecks whenever she gets things right

off topic but i read a rlly good ben hardy fic thats similar to this prompt but like cockwarming lmao ok srry

Soft fingers drum over your thigh as Harry looks down at your textbook, squinting his eyes as he reads the small print for the answer you’d just given him.

“You’ve gotten every answer right, baby,” he tells you, and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think you’re gonna do really great on your exam. Honestly! We’ve been going over it for hours and you’ve gotten every single question right.”

You shake your head vehemently and Harry groans. “But I don’t understand it. And my professor said that memorizing the answers isn’t gonna help us for shit.”

Which isn’t exactly true - you’d been studying with Harry for three and a half hours but it’s sure felt like absolutely forever, and you’re still confused out of your mind.

Harry rests the textbook on the carpet where you’re both sitting on the floor, the television playing quietly behind you. “Okay ... do you want to go over it one more time, then?”

You look down at your textbook and the study guide you’d pressed between the pages and sigh. “No. It’s no use. M’just gonna fail my exam and then I won’t graduate and I’ll end up living here forever.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, leaning back against the couch as he glances down at your book. “No, you won’t.” But it’s no use as you pick up your book, burying your face into it as your eyes scan the words. And Harry watches you for just a moment before reaching in, grabbing the book from you and pulling it back into his lap. “Let’s review it one more time, baby. Okay? And if you get the answer right ... I’ll give you a kiss.”

Your face immediately brightens at that, and though you try to hide it he can tell and he grins down at your book. You clear your throat and bring your knees to your chest, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

Harry looks down at your study guide, gnawing on his lip as he reads off one of the questions - the one you’d been struggling with the most - and you scrunch your nose up, deep in thought, before telling him the answer.

“Good! That’s good!” Harry can barely get the words out as you lean over, pressing your lips to his. Obviously it was the prize you’d looked forward to, and he laughs into your mouth at your eagerness. When you’ve finally pulled away, now immensely closer to him than you’d been before on the floor, he’s grinning. “Now we know that all you need to study is the promise of a kiss, right?”

“Kisses,” you correct him. “Plural. As in, multiple. Now read me the next question.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #answers #prof!harry

[xtruss]

Where the Buffalo Roam: World’s Longest Wildlife Bridge Could Cross the Mississippi

Conservationist aims to replace old bridge with bison preserve, benefiting environment and spotlighting Indigenous history

— Kari Paul | Sunday, 27 June 2021 | Guardian USA

A bridge across the Mississippi could over a new spot for American bison. Photograph: Alan Rogers/AP

Between Iowa and Illinois, spanning the only stretch of the Mississippi River that flows from east to west, sits an exhausted 55-year-old cement bridge. Each day 42,000 cars drive across the ageing structure, which is slated to be torn down and replaced.

But when Chad Pregracke looks at the bridge, he has a different vision entirely – not an old overpass to be demolished, but a home for the buffalo to roam.

The conservationist and local hero hails from the Quad Cities, a 300,000-person metropolitan area spanning two states on either side of the Mississippi River. It is named for its four cities: Bettendorf and Davenport in south-eastern Iowa and Moline and Rock Island in north-western Illinois.

Pregracke spends months every year living on barges and cleaning up refuse from the Mississippi, and he has brought his passion for the river to his latest project: converting the ailing bridge into a buffalo preserve. The idea came to him four years ago as he drove across the bridge one day, he says: “I thought, what if we made this a wildlife crossing?”

Now, his unlikely vision is being taken seriously. The departments of transportation in Iowa and Illinois are considering the proposal, which would break ground in as little as five years.

A rendering of a potential future wildlife crossing. Photograph: Bison Bridge Foundation

If completed, the bridge would become the longest human-made wildlife crossing in the world. The plan would see a new bridge built further down the river, where car traffic will be rerouted, and the existing bridge converted for use by humans and American bison – colloquially known as buffalo.

On one side would stand a pedestrian path and bike path, and on the other an enclosed bison paddock that would let visitors see eye to eye with the huge creatures. The herds would be free to roam between Iowa and Illinois in the grassy expanse, and the project would establish the first national park in either state.

While in many ways unique, the proposal follows a growing trend of urban renewal projects – perhaps most famously the High Line in New York City, a raised railroad converted into an elevated park. In Chicago, a raised railroad track was also converted into a park and bike trail. In Los Angeles, there have been proposals to convert part of the 101 freeway into a park.

Meanwhile, bison preserves featuring small herds have emerged in various locations across the US, including outside of Denver and in the middle of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.

How creating wildlife crossings can help reindeer, bears – and even crabs

Advocates for the Bison Bridge, as it is being called, say repurposing the structure rather than demolishing it would reduce waste, save costs, and benefit the environment. Pregracke says the project would help turn the Quad City area into a world-class destination, highlighting the Mississippi River as a feature worth traveling to, rather than a body of water to be crossed on the highway. “I mean, how could you not stop for bison?” Pregracke said.

Native American groups say bison restoration is an important means of reconnecting with the land and local history – and recognizing the interlinked atrocities committed against bison and Indigenous people.

Since 1997, the National Wildlife Federation has held a conservation agreement with an intertribal advocacy group for the return of wild bison to tribal lands and “restoring Native Americans’ cultural connection to bison”. What is now the Quad Cities was, in the early 1800s, a principal trading center for Indigenous peoples. Advocates say highlighting the area’s traditional connection with bison can call attention to that history.

The Bison’s History as a ‘Cornerstone Species’

Buffalo were once abundant in the midwest and western United States, but they were hunted nearly to extinction.

In the mid-1800s it was estimated that 30 million to 60 million buffalo roamed the Great Plains before the US government began to systematically target them as a means to starve Indigenous Americans and drive them off their land. By the end of the 19th century, only 300 wild bison remained.

The current bridge over the Mississippi. Photograph: Bison Bridge Foundation

Pregracke has convened a team of experts to help bring the bridge to life, including Jason Baldes, a tribal bison coordinator for the National Wildlife Federation. A member of the Eastern Shoshone, Baldes works to restore bison to the lands they once populated and reconnect them with Indigenous peoples who revered them as a main source of food and a spiritual symbol.

“The bison was known as the life commissary for my grandmas and grandpas,” Baldes said. “It was food, clothing, shelter, and was also central to our cultural and spiritual belief systems.”

Baldes said restoring bison in the US was important both culturally and ecologically. Bison are known as a keystone species, meaning their existence benefits a number of species in their native habitats.

The stampedes of millions of bison on the Great Plains helped aerate the soil, aiding in plant growth and the dispersal of native seeds to create a varied ecosystem. The fur of the animal is ideal for insulating the nests of certain birds, and burrowing owls once relied on their dung for building their homes. Bison have a tendency to wallow, or roll around on the ground, creating small depressions that provide unique habitats for plant and animal species.

Baldes said the reintroduction of bison to tribal communities and public parks represented an opportunity to teach the broader public about that painful history and rebuild.

“We are finding ways to heal from the atrocities of the past, and buffalo restoration, and the restoration of the foundation of our cultural values and belief systems, is very important to that,” Baldes said.

A rendering of the project. Photograph: Bison Bridge Foundation

Baldes said based on his experience with bison populations, the bridge would be a sufficient size for a small herd of eight to 10 animals. But the small size did not diminish the importance of the project, he said, adding that he saw it as a “very key educational tool” for the broader public. The Meskwaki nation had been contacted regarding the project but was not collaborating in an official capacity as of now, a spokeswoman said.

“Bison were destroyed as a means to eradicate Native American land holdings and inflict genocidal practices, so for our tribal communities, buffalo restoration is very important,” Baldes said. “But it’s not only important to Native American tribes, but it’s important to the American people to at least have an opportunity to learn about this history.”

Local Agencies Anticipate a Bison Boom

Daniel MacNulty, an associate professor of wildland resources at Utah State University who studies wild bison populations in Yellowstone national park, said the repurposed bridge would in fact make a feasible habitat for the animals. Bison were hardy animals that could easily adapt to new surroundings, and while the size of the park proposed would not necessarily support a large herd of bison, a small herd would serve an important purpose.

Bison Bridge foundation logo. Photograph: Bison Bridge Foundation

“It is certainly an out-of-the-box idea, but it provides an opportunity to conserve bison,” MacNulty said. “Any time the public is exposed to information about the ecology of bison and the Great Plains, it is a positive thing.”

Officials in the Quad City area have been supportive of the project in part because of the opportunities it could bring for tourism and growth to the area, which has had a stagnant population for more than 30 years. The project has been endorsed by the local community and economic development organization the Quad Cities Chamber and the regional tourism board Visit Quad Cities.

“We are trying everything we can do to make the Quad Cities a prosperous regional economy – and that means we need to think differently about how we attract and retain residents and businesses,” said Paul Rumler, president of the Quad Cities Chamber.

Currently, the area sees 1.6m visitors per year, generating $954m in local spending. Visit Quad Cities estimates a new national park could quadruple that number in just the first year, with sales tax bringing a “huge boost” to local hotels and restaurants.

“We would like to be able to point to this and show that this is how we do business here – we are creative, we are innovative and willing to try new concepts, and we have the perseverance to pull it off,” Rumler said. “We all need a crazy idea to latch on to.”

[a-wonderingmind]

First Lines Tag

Thanks for the tag @tara-stofse !

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

“Janey died instead of me.”

So you owe it to her to keep living to the hilt. Not that I noticed you wasting a moment.” what are you not saying? (MFMM)

“Jack, wait!” She’s not sure what she wants to say, but he’s right there and she doesn’t want to watch him leave again. not shown until struck (MFMM)

“... I guess we’ll have to make do with each other,” He watched her fight a losing battle to keep a wide grin spreading across her face. a question of (in)decency (MFMM)

Jack Robinson had, for most of his working life, prided himself on being someone who kept a clear delineation between home and work. work/life (off) balance (MFMM)

Phryne was shaking.

He couldn’t work out whether it was anger, or sadness. i just wanna make out in my car (MFMM)

Marinating in post-coital bliss, Phryne shifted her weight to nestle in his shoulder. She sighed, and he can hear the cogs beginning to turn in her mind. undream’d shores (MFMM)

“No,” “What?” “No.” “Professor Fisher, let me go,” he said, eyes flashing dangerously. strings pulled (MFMM)

Professor Phryne Fisher was not going to be able to sleep at all tonight. Not that she’d been expecting to sleep much anyway, what with the less than ideal circumstances in which she found herself. a melody of two lives (MFMM)

“Of course, Miss Fisher. No doubt an unexpected guest is far more enticing than an expected one.” Jack put down the telephone and sighed.  crossed wires (MFMM)

Jack closed the door behind him, dropping his jacket and the tension in his shoulders. Folding the outerwear over the chair in the corner, he reached a hand for Phryne’s, who was engrossed in a book, sprawled out over the covers of the bed. a sense of each other (MFMM)

The seed packet had been sitting on the side for far too long, Peggy thought. It had been a gift from Colonel Phillips’ wife, pressed into her hand despite her protestations of incapability; she was told in no uncertain terms and a gentle firmness that they were very hardy plants, and that whenever she looked at them she was to think of Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers, both dedicated to the cause the way one has to climb the Alps to obtain such a bloom. She hadn’t the heart to say no. planting a garden (is really hard work) (Agent Carter)

They’d just jumped, and Mack had zoomed off for some alone time. Deke’s eyes came to rest on the exhausted frame of Chief Sousa, almost slipping off the round stool, eyes fixed on the pod and the almost-sleeping frame of Daisy. He could almost see his own worries, mirrored in the man’s eyes. He jumped slightly when a voice rumbled beside him. seeing eye to eye; burgeoning affections (Agent Carter/AoS)

Daniel stood at their doorstep. Her doorstep. stolen affections (thwarted by time) (Agent Carter/AoS)

One might think, looking at the two young men standing outside one of New York’s more prestigious apartments late in the evening that they were there for some sort of soirée, or gala, or something. The way they were glaring at each other, however, seemed to somewhat refute that particular assumption that any passer-by might have made.  A drink to those who mean a lot (Agent Carter) 

“... I just wish I could have said some goodbyes,” He missed one goodbye in particular. severed affections (they never had time to grow) (Agent Carter/AoS)

His head felt like cotton wool. But it didn’t smell like a hospital in here. He took stock of his body. There was a dull pain in his chest, but all four (three?) of his limbs were still unhurt and intact. He was still wearing his prosthesis, in any case. He could feel the belt pressing in the slightly uncomfortable way it did when he wore it lying on his back. affections, torn (Agent Carter/AoS)

Daniel vastly preferred driving to flying, he thought, as he pulled up to the hut they had set up. It was nice to not have to worry about where he was going, sure, but the presence of other passengers never really allowed him to relax. hidden affections (Agent Carter/AoS)

Es wird wie jeden Tag nach dem großen Fallabschluss. Berichte schreiben, unterschreiben, glücklicherweise aber heute keine grenzwertige Aktionen,die zu rechtfertigen sind. Die Stimmung; leise (Agent Carter)

Jack was always aware of Miss Fisher’s closeness. He was also (unhelpfully, sometimes) aware of how close they got when they were sparring, eyes blazing, looking only past the brims of their hats. looking over the brim (MFMM)

Another day, another case to close, action reports to write. Thankfully no borderline stupid antics to justify. A Quiet Voice (Agent Carter)

For the second part of the tag game: Clearly I like to drop my characters straight in the action! Or start with their thoughts, or speech. I have to admit a particular fondness for number 2, just becasue I like the style I was experimenting with there!

Tagging @historymaiden and @fandomsandxfiles!

#long post #about me #fic

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Could I get 4 or 6 Geraskier for the September Prompts?

Wow you guys really want me to rip your hearts out. I see how it is. I’m going to go with number four, “Love has two faces: one of them is the face ofdevastation.” Full prompt list is here!

Jaskier has never been acquainted with the tragedy of love.

Oh, he’s dealt with the ache of pining, the bittersweet tang of a love affair ended, the cold ache in his chest upon seeing someone that years ago meant everything and now means nothing. But those are bruises, not broken bones. Scrapes, not stab wounds.

It helps that he’s a butterfly when it comes to love. A summer flower, not a hardy pine tree. He trips and falls into love like a blind man on an uneven set of stairs. People are fascinating and wonderful and he loves to soak up their personalities, their idiosyncrasies, the thousands of tiny angles of glass that make up the kaleidoscope of them.

But then he falls hard enough to break his neck. For a man with hair like snow and a heart just as prone to melting (and just as silent and stealthy about it), a man with eyes that glow, just a little, in the moonlight and when he’s happy (but you have to learn how to watch for it), a man with over a hundred scars and each one of them a story.

And that man dies.

Jaskier knows the first face of love. He knows happiness and yearning and warmth. He knows the rumble against his chest when he’s lying on top of Geralt and the Witcher growls (or purrs, when he thinks Jaskier’s asleep and doesn’t notice). He knows the exact timber of words whispered in his ear. He knows every line and curve of Geralt’s hands, hands he’s bandaged and kissed and held, and he knows the man’s mouth just as well, perhaps even more so.

But doorways go both in and out, enter and exit, and love has a second face.

He’s in Oxenfurt when it happens, doing some lecturing, and overhears some students gossiping. They try and fall silent when they see Jaskier, but Jaskier’s not stupid. Dumb, maybe, but he’s not an idiot.

“Torn apart,” one whispers. “By a mob.”

“Seems a stupid way for a Witcher to die.”

“What was the reason?”

“I heard he was protecting someone.”

“Who?”

The students trying, in their own way, to protect their beloved professor (Jaskier’s their favorite, which he knows rankles on the other faculty) is sweet but it doesn’t do much. By nightfall the whole town’s talking about it, repeating the same refrain, like an awful, tuneless song.

The White Wolf is dead. The White Wolf is dead. The White Wolf is dead.

Jaskier feels sick.

He’s also a masochist, so he gets a horse and rides, stopping only when he has to, until he reaches the village where it happened.

Gods, he wants to burn it all down. He wants to take the destruction that’s in his heart, the devastation that he stares at every day in the mirror, and turn it outward. He wants them to feel even half of the sick, pulsing grief that pumps through his veins like a disease.

But Geralt spent his entire life trying not to be the monster that everyone said he was. He spent all his life taking his emotions and hiding them deep in the cavern of his chest, where few people could reach them or even knew they were there. The least that Jaskier can do is try to honor that.

He dismounts and walks through. Wonders which of these people participated. Wonders if they truly believed in what they were doing or if they were caught up in the hysteria of it. Wonders… wonders if Geralt suffered for long.

Melitele help him, he’s never felt so empty inside. He is well acquainted with love’s tragedies, now, and he does not want them. He wants to die himself. He ought to have died, himself. Geralt was the one who was supposed to go on. Not Jaskier.

A girl tugs at the sleeve of his doublet. “I like your necklace.”

It’s one Geralt gave to him. Gold and silver mixed. A wreath of flowers around the head of a wolf. Jaskier knows, although Geralt never told him, that the poor man must’ve spent weeks, perhaps even months, working up the courage to gift it.

“Thank you.” He swallows down the other, bitter things he wants to say. She’s a child. It’s not her fault, what happened.

“I have one just like it.” The girl tugs on his sleeve again. “May I show you?”

Jaskier’s heart stops.

That’s their code. That’s their code, the one that no one else could possibly know. Geralt gave that necklace with a threefold purpose: the first, a declaration. The second, protection (the necklace is so loaded with magic that Yennefer sneezed when she inspected it). The third, so that if Geralt were injured, whoever was caring for him would recognize Jaskier and bring him to Geralt.

But Geralt, Geralt is dead.

The girl pouts, stubborn. “Please?”

He might be going to his grave, but if it is a grave, at least it will be a double one. Jaskier follows her.

They leave town, go up a thin winding path, the kind that women picking herbs and children playing games use, and no one else. Then there is no path at all, and Jaskier is obliged to leave his horse behind, following the girl down an embankment to a cave.

“My father’s a shepherd,” the girl says. “He uses this to shelter the herd if they’re caught out here in a storm.” Then she raises her voice. “Sir Wolf! Sir Wolf! He’s here!”

The cave is dark and cold, but there is a small, poorly executed fire, such as one a child might make, and the remains of cheese and bread, and there, wrapped in his cloak…

This, Jaskier thinks. This is devastation. Seeing your lover and the dried blood on him and the bruises and feeling your heart rip and rip and rip like rotted teeth are digging into it.

“My mother’s a healer,” the girl says, proudly. “I’ve been healing him.”

Yes, rather poorly, but it’s the thought that counts. Jaskier is going to shower this child with so many gifts she won’t know what to do with them. He’s going to write her entire sonnets. “We’re in your debt.”

He crosses to Geralt, and he knows he needs to start making proper bandages, getting out the salve, washing away the blood and dirt, but first, first…

Geralt’s eyes crack open as Jaskier kneels before him, taking the Witcher’s face in his hands. “Jaskier.” He sounds relieved.

“I’m here.” He’s the bard, he’s the writer, he crafts the stories, and he dictates how they end. And this will not end in tragedy. “You stupid darling, what have you gotten yourself into now?”

Geralt manages to give Jaskier a terribly unimpressed look, as if to say that Jaskier is the last one to be able to talk about getting oneself into messes. “Just tell me you brought the fucking chamomile.”

Jaskier’s own laugh startles him. It’s rusty, and weak, but it’s there. Geralt’s hands (hands he knows every line and curve of, hands he will heal and kiss and hold) fit weakly around Jaskier’s wrists, and when Jaskier kisses his mouth (a mouth he knows even better than his hands), he is warm and soft and real.

He has seen love’s other face, but as gardeners say, flowers bloom best after devastation.

#mads answers things #mads writes stuff #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt/jaskier #geralt/dandelion #geralt x jaskier #geralt x dandelion #geralt/jaskier fanfic #geralt/dandelion fanfic #geralt x jaskier fic #is this my middle finger at the books? #you bet your ass #that was a stupid decision and I will fight the author in the streets #honeybunchesoffuckedup

[0nho]

raw wip I started last year. tried working on it some more. it actually got really long. university fluff mostly. a dilemma where everyone is a bottom (or are they?), minho pov. very rare occasion I try to use all 5 in a story...

---

Kim Kibum is now the co-president of the university's one and only pride club, actually. Kibum and Jonghyun get along quite well; similar interests and tastes from fashion to men. They do a good job of keeping the club running despite its opposition. 

"Eat ass.." Minho mumbles, not in the mood at all for Kibum banter yet. 

"Gladly," Kibum smiles, flicking his dyed brown and blond highlight haircut that looks like a mullet, "I actually get laid."

Minho can't stand Kibum's fox-like grin, and never has. It mocks him. "I see the westerner's '80s fashion threw up on your big head."

Kibum's full attention is drawn away from his phone. "What did you just say, alien-bug-looking-face, receding-hairline-big-ass-forehead-looking-prick!" 

Minho uses his palm to brush his short fringe forward, brows furrowed, feeling that exchange was below the belt. No need to go after each other's complexes. 

"Kibum says he got dicked in the military.." Jonghyun says, changing the subject back to dicks, naturally, proud of the younger man regardless of the risks involved with that sort of engagement. 

Minho looks dumbfounded, shocked anyone would walk that line considering at worst a prison cell awaits. "You didn't!" 

Kibum's expression, like some cheshire cat, doesn't give away if he's lying or not. 

"I did," Jonghyun raises his hand, always proud of his exploits, at least the ones he tells. "The risk was worth the reward. He was a cute virgin," the man remenses. "My weakness for cute faces will be my undoing.."

Minho looks with horror at both men. His own personal crush was a superior officer with a little chub padding well built muscly arms, height making Minho feel almost short, voice a deep growl yelling at the soldiers to keep up and do better. Whenever the officer told Minho he was doing good and leading by example, Minho pushed to be even better, as if he could have certainly climbed any mountain weighed down by heavy gear or swim the ocean from Korea to China for that superior officer if it meant he could be held in those strong, bulky arms for a moment without judgment. Filthy, dirty wet dreams had visited some nights, making those early morning rises worse than just having to get up early as a non-morning person. But he had never considered pursuing relations in the military. 

"You guys are crazy."

Jonghyun sounds too proudly cheeky. "You'd be surprised how many gay men are in the military at one time. Or the curious and missing a lady's touch. Way too much morning wood in those barracks." 

"I was skeptical about Jonghyun sunbae's experience because he's a known liar.." Kibum side-eyes Jonghyun, "But once I was there.. well, things happened."

Minho went to an alternate reality military, clearly. Maybe his division branch had been that different after all. 

"Maybe if you were a power bottom you would attract more attention and offers," Jonghyun gives advice. ".. I'll teach you, no charge."

Minho leans back in his seat, arms crossed and eyes rolled. "No thanks.." he's not interested in the structure of a power bottom or the ideal and expectations it carries. Minho's a simple, kind of vanilla, bottom into being softly dominated and doted on and eager to please a partner's desires. Maybe a little rougher now and then, with someone he is comfortable with. 

"He's so plain and boring.." Kibum sighs, taking out his phone to browse. "I see why it's hard to find a partner."

Minho's face falls, not amused at all. 

"He has a unique type.. it's difficult to find."

Kibum rests his chin in hand, looking bored, gaze still on his cellphone. "You mean his ideal type is basically himself but a top."

Jonghyun tries to stifle a laugh. "It is.. but I didn't want to say it."

Minho's frown depends. He's is in no mood to be mocked, so he leaves the table for the couch at the far end of the room, practically huffing, hands through his short hair he hopes grows back faster so he looks cuter and to attract potential tops. 

"You made him sulk," Jonghyun scolds Kibum. 

"When is he not? And why do you keep bothering him anyway, he's not into you."

"Or you.."

"Shut up. He's the worst type of bottom.."

"And you're a slutty, bossy bottom."

"Sunbae! You wanna die?!" 

Kibum grows grouchy while Jonghyun smiles, looking towards the door repeatedly, as if waiting for someone still. While there are other members, attendance is infrequent and many show up once and then withdraw. There's a lot of social factors that keep the pride club on a blacklist and on the brink of shutdown. 

As the club door swings open, Minho passing by it, he freezes, spooked by a familiar, and notable pretty, face. 

"Oh.. that sunbae is here too?" 

"Taeminnie…" Jonghyun coos, urging the new face to the club, in Minho's case due to recent absence, over to the table. 

"You know Minho?" Kibum asks, suddenly very curious. 

The young student closes the door behind himself, shrugging off a backpack and tucking lengthy hair behind an ear, a dangling earring suiting the young man's pretty face and slender figure. He doesn't really smile with his reply, side glancing at Minho looking at the youth dumbfounded. ".. not really. We just bumped into each other earlier."

Taemin's explanation is very simplified. 

Minho had been adjusting to being back at school, and in an environment that being outed wouldn't lead right to prison, that when a new face on campus, surely a freshman, kept popping up around him and glancing at him, he had become certain the young man was a bottom on the prowl. It was a sense, an uneasy one. 

When Taemin approached Minho in the hallway, after a demoralizing discussion with a professor urging Minho to keep his head in the game and study to improve his grades from before time off for conscription, a man who knows Minho's father no less, Minho had flushed with insensible panic. 

Taemin had stood nearly as tall as Minho, but with a face and figure right out of a boys' love comic drawn by female artists; an impressive sight to be honest. "Excuse me, sunbae.. could I talk to you about something?" 

Minho took a breath, hands on his unsightly hair that's still simply too short and probably made him look like a masculine top ready for booty action. "I'm not a pitcher! I'm a catcher, okay! I can't help you!" 

Taemin had looked bewildered to say the least, as if another language had just been thrown on him. 

Minho had hurried past the young man as other students filled the hallway. Minho decided he needed to go to the pride club room and see his friends, even if they don't understand him that well either. He had come to miss them a lot and they had become more of a security than he ever thought they could. 

In looking back, that moment had been quite embarrassing on his part. It is too soon to run into the young man again. Some days Minho has the worst luck. 

Jonghyun calls Taemin to sit beside him at the table, practically clinging to the younger man. Taemin carries a small smile, a bit bashful. He pets Jonghyun's head playfully. 

"Taemin, don't trust that sunbae so easily," Kibum warns of Jonghyun. 

"Why do you try to sabotage my happiness? Do you hate me, Kibum?" Jonghyun pouts, snuggling Taemin's shoulder. 

"Sunbae, who could hate you?" Kibum flashes a wide, fake smile. "This club has dwindled enough in members lately. Don't scare more away."

"I'm okay…" Taemin speaks up, voice a little small. 

"Taeminnie…" Jonghyun calls out, joyful and receiving more pats on the head. 

"Sunbae, you're his dog."

"It's great." Jonghyun exclaims. 

Taemin sinks into his seat, embarrassed where the conversation could lead. He changes the mood, "I was wanting to ask Minho sunbae something but now I forgot what it was…" he laughs. "But he's like you guys said. I was shocked he almost made a scene."

"He thought you a bottom hitting on him?" Kibum has a hardy laugh. 

"I.." Taemin's voice gets smaller, like he doesn't want to make anyone feel bad, especially a senior. "I guess so.."

#wip #why doesn't behind cuts work on the app yet #all members in this fic a rare sight #this au is already over 5k surely #anyways #guess I won't tag it prop since wip #snip #fic snip

[verstappenist]

I Dare You | Ben Hardy

A/n: I just want to say that this is my first time writing for Ben, so I’m sorry if it’s bad... Also, English is not my first language so there could be some mistakes... Constructive criticism is appreciated!

The first part of this is College!Ben, the second part is current Ben! It is based on a prompt I found somewhere on Pinterest and sadly didn’t save...

Big thank you to @anotheronebitestheskye for convincing me to post this ily💗

Word Count: 1,601

Warnings: None!

Your and Ben’s story began nearly a decade ago, when you both went to the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama in London.

You had most classes together and would consider yourselves as good friends. Especially after starring in one of the plays together and spending hours upon hours in each others flats running lines to present the professor the perfect result.

Ben and you have been friends ever since.

Three years later, just before graduating the two of you, as well as some of your mutual friends from school went out to celebrate.

But after a few (well many) rounds of drinks and shots the club turned out to be too boring for your little group, that's why Amy decided it would be best to go back to someone's and spend the rest of the night there. "Maybe play some fun games", as she put it with a mischievous grin directed towards Ben.

The other three members of the group quickly approved, and that's how five (including yourself) completely hammered graduands ended up in the living room of your small flat.

"Now, what kind of games did you have in mind, Ames?", questioned Alfie, ever the responsible, whilst handing everyone a glass of water to at least try to cool you down a bit.

Gulping down her water way too quick, she paused for a second before listing a bunch of party games you'd normally play at a high school party, rather than a 'get together'.

"I mean, truth or dare doesn't sound half bad", added Charlie, "we could put in some twists like if you refuse to tell the truth you have to take a shot, and if you refuse a dare you have to remove an article of clothing?"

"That's brilliant! (y/n) you got any liquor?", called Amy, already halfway in the kitchen. "There should be Jägermeister in the cabinet above the sink!", you yelled back, your head falling against Ben's shoulder. The buzz from earlier slowly wearing off and exhaustion taking over.

Ben was looking down at you, adoration reflecting in his emerald eyes. If someone asked him, he would definitely deny it, but the blonde was madly in love with you since you started to hang out - well run lines together but it's essentially the same, right?

Curling his arm around your shoulders to pull you even just a little bit closer, you all waited for Amy to return with the herbal liquor your sister got you as a souvenir from her germany trip with her fiancé.

The sound of the bottle meeting the dark wood of your coffee table caused you to startle from your doze and you nearly jump into Ben's lap. "Holy - Amy be careful, otherwise you're gonna break the bottle", you groaned, burying your face in your friend's shoulder.

"Right, whatever. Who starts?", she grinned after a brief flash of annoyance crossed her face. Charlie volunteered to ask the first question, and chose Ben to be on the receiving end, who chose dare - since truth apparently is only for weaklings.

"Let's start off easy then, I dare you to let each of us draw something on you with a sharpie!", the brunette proposed, grabbing the pen off your notepad.

"I'm sure there will be worse, so let me be your canvas, dear ladies and gentleman!", Ben chuckled whilst shrugging off his jacket to free his muscular arms.

The drawings ended up only half as bad as he expected them to be, which is why he quickly moved on, asking Alfie.

The game continued for another four to five rounds each, leaving most of you at least shirtless, and the, used to be, full bottle of Jägermeister a good amount emptier.

To be honest if it weren't for the others you probably would've already sent them all home by now, the clock on your wall showing 3:16. 

But not just because of that, but also because Amy's obnoxious flirting attempts on Ben were seriously getting ridiculous. That's why you suggested, it would be better to end your gathering and surprisingly most of them thought it was a good idea. Except for Amy, who over the past hour somehow took in your place at Ben's side.

You never really found out why exactly she was hanging out with you lot, since she wasn't even attending the same school. She was Charlie's flatmate that just ended up tagging along with the four of you about two years ago. That was also when she completely, hopelessly started to fall in love with Ben, and honestly who could blame her? But your probably unrequited feelings for your best friend were nobody's business but yours.

Ben quickly stood up, freeing himself from the blondes tight grip around his arm, “I’m going to help you clean this up later just gotta - real quick!” He called as he hurried down the hall towards the bathroom. Making sure to take his time, it might seem rude to wait out for the others to leave, but he really couldn’t deal with this anymore.

When he returned to the living room, Charlie, Alfie and Amy were gone, leaving you spread out on the couch, half asleep. “(y/n), love? You still with me?”

His question startled you, causing you to sit up straight, “Yes, still here.” Taking in the rest of the room Ben noticed that you already put away the bottle and cleaned up the mess you made.

It might seem stupidly cliché but right then, looking all dishevelled and tired, to him you looked ethereal. And it was all it took for him to make a move, finally.

“I have one last dare for you, (y/n)”, he told you confidently.

“And what would that be?”

Ben hesitated, the bravery he just gained, vanished as soon as you finished your question. The blonde just stood there for a second unable to pronounce a single syllable. Which is why you decided to get up, now standing just inches away from him.

His following words were rushed and quiet, just barely loud enough for you to hear, "I dare you to kiss me."

And that was all it took for you to close the gap between the two of you. 

The kiss was the perfect balance between slow and tender, as well as filled to the brim with lust and need. His soft plump lips felt like heaven on earth connected to your own. It felt right in every way possible.

After your drunken kiss seven years ago, your friendship turned into a loving relationship, with a few minor hiccups along the way but you're still going strong. 

Not too long the two of you got a beagle puppy to complete your little family, and Frankie quickly became the most important thing in both your lives.

Your little friend group from back then sadly didn't last but thanks to Ben landing a starring role in Bohemian Rhapsody his cast mates became your second family in no time.

Even after release of the movie and after press tour ‘the band’ never spent more than a few weeks without seeing each other.

And when coincidentally all of them, including Lucy and you, were in the same city there was no way you won't at least spend one night together.

Which is how you ended up in Joe's living room in New York, drinking wine and catching up on each other.

It took you by surprise when Gwilym, out of all people, suggested to play truth or dare, Lucy was immediately on board. Them being the only ones who knew about Ben's plan.

After very little convincing the rest of your little group agreed as well.

"Okay I'll start! Joe, truth or dare?", Lucy asked the first question the man to her left.

The game was nothing too spectacular, discovering some embarrassing teenage stories, here and there humiliating dares and constantly flowing alcohol.

When it was finally Ben's turn, he decided to ask you next. "Truth or dare, love? Choose wisely", he grinned cheekily.

Pretending to think for a moment you winked at the blonde next to you and answered his question with a confident, "dare!", causing the man to grin even wider. Ben's plan might actually work out.

"Okay, I need you to close your eyes for a second. No peeking!"

"Okay, okay! I promise", you giggled, putting both your hands in front of your closed eyes.

Only a few seconds later the whole group gasped, making you wonder what the actual fuck was happening right now. "Okay, (y/n), open up."

Slowly you put down your hands before opening your eyes, only to be met with the other ones standing in a line behind Ben, each one of them holding a single rose.

Your boyfriend of seven years sank to one knee right in front of you, a tiny velvet box held tightly in both his hands.

"(Y/n) (y/l/n), I dare you to marry me."

His deep, rich voice suddenly sounding so small, emerald eyes wide, waiting for a response.

Your hand that just moments prior covered your eyes, were now keeping you from sobbing.

Trying to collect yourself, you turned away from the others, quickly wiping away the tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

Taking another deep breath you smiled at the still nervous young man kneeling on the carpet, "Yes, let's do this Benny!"

Your friends, who you really forgot were even there erupted in loud cheers as the blonde scrambled to his feet, eagerly pressing his lips to yours, grinning from ear to ear.

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fic #ben hardy imagine #greta writes