toujourspur

toujourspur asked:

Yay, I can't wait to see it! Probably tomorrow though, my sleepiness is about to overtake me now. Thank you again for uploading it. :) Okay I also have to say this, you and Benicio would look good together. THERE I SAID IT, TIS THE TRUTH.

EXCUSE ME WHILE I DIE.

toujourspur asked:

I can tell that you guys put a lot of work into this blog (although I'm sure it feels less like work and more like play), and I just want to say that it is so appreciated. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thanks so much! It definitely feels like play. Although trying to keep up with all the press when they’re touring feels a little like work, ngl. Mama is tired. But we wouldn’t keep doing it if it wasn’t fun. :))

You’re welcome! And thanks for the lovely message. xo

toujourspur asked:

How has In The Flesh been such a well-kept secret? I started watching a few nights ago because of a picspam you reblogged that peaked my interest (and ended up consuming it all in one night), but before then I had never seen nor heard of it. It's already carved out a place in my heart and I have you to thank!

Oh gosh! I’m so glad I turned you on to it! I actually got interested in it the same way, and ended up watching the whole of it in one night (till 6am, to be exact). It’s really amazing that it doesn’t have a larger following, especially on Tumblr! It’s too bad because it is a remarkable show. Again, I’m so glad my casual blogging got you into it! (: Hopefully more people will have the opportunity to discover it now!

forever-toujourspur asked:

Fear me, love me, do as I say.

On one arm, Anton had the Dark Mark blazed into his skin. On the other arm, the three long, curling letters. SVM. Upon a brush of the fingers or a tap of the wand, the letters extended, forming the words sprawled all across his arm, delicate in calligraphy, but irreversible. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. Property of the Malfoy Estate. 

He brushed his fingers against the mark, enjoying the way the letters spread across his arm. The Dark Mark was one thing, something Anton wore with pride, but the letters adorning his other arm were infinitely more important to him. He did not care that he had been reduced to property, an object to be disposed of. He was the Malfoys, and he loved them, and he would serve them. With the exception of perhaps, Lucius, but the two men tended to avoid each other anyways. 

Instead, Anton devoted his time to Narcissa. He knew that Lucius watched the two with wary eyes and suspicious glances, and thus showed his true moments of devotion when the young man was out of the house. It was small things. Small bouquets of flowers placed upon her pillow, favorite Honeydukes sweets laid on the piano, a new dress (which took Anton months of labor outside of his duties to The Manor to save up for) on her bed. He never left notes of romance, for this was not one of romantic equals. This was of a pet, a toy, a slave, and the woman he adored. Even if he knew he would never truly have her. 

Adjusting his tie once, twice, Anton made certain that he looked impeccable as always. He gripped the warm mug in his hand, walking into the parlor as he stood at attention at Narcissa’s side.

“May I interest you in some coffee, Lady Malfoy?” he asked, ever the image of sterile politeness, with his artfully gelled hair, pleased smile in place to look upon the golden-haired beauty. “Or would you prefer some tea, perhaps?”

forever-toujourspur asked:

Fear me, love me, do as I say.

She was married. She was his cousin. Two phrases he frequently reminded himself but often forgot anyway. How could he remember that when she was letting him brush her hair or wash her back. She has such beautiful skin. Clean and delicate like porcelain. He didn’t know how Lucius ever stopped touching it. He certainly didn’t want too.

He’d been playing for her. It wasn’t often that he sat down at the piano, but she’d been so melancholy lately, and he’d hoped that playing for her would make her happier. She wasn’t like him, where some good old fashioned torture could make everything better. He knew she wanted children. He’d thought of offering himself, but if he did get her pregnant there was a chance the babe would have his own dark hair and she would be ruined. He’d never risk doing that to her. 

He was never around when Malfoy was in residence, but he left so frequently that it wasn’t difficult to spend time with her. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you Narcissa?” He asked, his accent and rich baritone caressing over her name, imbuing it with more inflection than was strictly okay for a ‘cousin’ but then he’d made himself her slave whenever she desired it (which wasn’t often enough in his books).

toujourspur-deactivated20111009 asked:

Today I realized that it isn't necessary to have your blog bookmarked because it is already one of my most-visited sites and so is always bookmarked automatically. This is all I really wanted to say, and also that I hope the college experience is going well, but if not I'm sending a care package with some Decoy Detonators, just in case. <333

Tanya, my DEAREST. How I’ve missed you.  Your kind words make me BLUSH (I’m not even made of pure glory like you are; imagine how inferior I feel!) and the good wishes are vastly appreciated– decoy detonators would not go awry, since there’s this one class that always feels like it should end about twenty minutes before it actually does, but as tomorrow is the last official day of class before finals… well, you know the owls tend to stray sometimes.

And I appreciate the offer of Decoy Detonators instead of, oh, say, Puking Pastilles.<3

Black and Gold || Narcissa and Walburga || Beneath the Blazing Stars
 Date: May 19th, 1979  
Time: 9:10 PM
Location: Malfoy Manor

The conversations with Igor and Amycus had Walburga feeling more and more flustered. After fifty years she had perfected the mask of a decadent benevolence, serenity with a touch of imperial indifference during this events. While in the privacy of her own home she could let her inner demons unleash, in public she had chained them, and chained them tightly. 

That is, until she had arrived at Narcissa’s party. Words that were not meant to be spoken aloud had slipped from her mouth, and she was still reeling from the news that her Regulus was having intercourse with the male Carrow Heir, and it was all a bit dizzying to handle. She no longer trusted herself to drink, instead making polite but brief conversation as she nibbled on a biscuit, unable to bring herself to finish eating it. Her innards felt as if they were twisting and writhing, each fresh sound or movement bringing about a new wave of panic, the anxiety the night had produced properly setting in. 

Seeking something grounding, Walburga noticed the sight of the hostess herself, Narcissa. Ever since the little girl was born, Walburga had harbored special affection for her niece. From the moment she saw that striking blonde hair so particular to her own, Walburga had seen herself mirrored in Narcissa. Both unstable, proud Pureblood women, in many ways they were each other at different times in their lives. Unfortunately, Walburga had produced two sons, and Narcissa had yet to produce one. 

This was not a night for such thoughts, though. Walburga was seeking a distraction as she arranged her face into one of pleasant surprise, gliding over to Narcissa, trying not to stiffen too obviously as she saw one of those mutts pass on by. Some of the people that had slipped into the party astounded Walburga, but she trusted her niece. Karkaroff had proved to be better than she originally thought, but half-breeds? It was all a bit much. 

“My darling Narcissa,” Walburga gushed. “You look stunning. This party is going…” Once more she felt the wrong words rise to the tip of her tongue, and she wrestled with them, before- “surprising. It has surprised me.” A truth, but not the right one, and she quirked her lips, trying to figure out how to salvage the situation, intenrally cursing herself for allowing yet another slip-up. “Everyone seems to be especially open this evening.” A forced smile twisted her lips. “What is in these drinks?” It was the first thing that came to mind, and it was tumbling out before she could stop it.