sparkling wit

accepting applications for my new mistress/concubine

i require:

  • sprezzatura
  • a ready and sparkling wit to keep my mind off matters of duty and politics
  • a reasonably decent education - i do enjoy discussions of petrarch with my consorts
  • a pleasantly ample figure and a graceful form
  • BLONDE hair (bleaching with lye is acceptable)

you will receive:

  • a fine palazzo and excellent wardrobe
  • a government post for your unfortunate husband
  • near certainty that i will not have your relatives publicly hanged
  • a very good chance that i will legitimize any natural children you bear me
  • a chance to see me not wearing my velvet hat that i wear everywhere in public

it’s a shame tomoyo cant use her powers anymore 
cause that just means one beautiful person less to smack some sense to watanuki


Hello, I’m the mod, and you can get custom-made art by me as a reward for turning in one of the 20th Century Colts. The ones that are hiding are Firstwit, Wittersweet, Hot Wit, Witshine, Soul Wit, Sparkle Wit, and Witsend. Want a free drawing? Here are the rules:

  1. You don’t have to be following me, but it helps because my followers know which Wit is which.
  2. If you’ve decided on the Colt you want to draw, you must reblog this post and mention his name so that other artists will know which one was already taken in the notes.
  3. The first one to turn in a Colt by submitting a picture of him will receive a drawing as a reward. On the off chance the same Colt is depicted by more than one artist, the piece that is the most accurate representation will get the reward.*
  4. If you’ve been rewarded, send me a message and specify in detail what you want drawn, and whether you want hand drawn or digital art. I can and will draw almost anything in any style, pony-related or otherwise. And of course, I am comfortable with NSFW-ish art.
Confessions, Kisses, and a Jumper

Hey guys! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, your girl has ideas for this. You don’t even know, man. I’m feelin’ the fluff (and the hell of second hand embarrassment). Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: Yep

Anonymous Requested: Hiya!!! Could you do a really fluff george weasley x reader??? Maybe he’s been in love with the reader for the longest time and when she visits the burrow his whole family tease him until he eventually confesses? (Bonus if she steals his G jumper to wear ♡♡♡) 

Warnings: none

The Burrow. It was your absolute favorite place to be, excluding Hogwarts. You loved the openness around the quaint little place as well as it’s cozy feeling. Not to mention that you also loved the redheads on the inside. Picking up your suitcase, you moved towards the front door from your cab. You didn’t even get halfway to the house before a swarm of people greeted you. You happened to notice the twins absence though. How odd. 

“Oh, (Y/N), dear, it’s so good to see you again,” Molly said, grinning. You felt someone take your suitcase. 

“Nice to see you too. And thanks for having me,” You said. Quickly, she lead you inside and into the kitchen. 

“Now let’s have a look at you.” Her hands sat atop your shoulders as her eyes scanned your face and body. You watched as her pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“You’re too skinny, dear. Much too skinny,” She said. You smiled. Molly always said that about you. 

“Well, I’m sure you know just how to fix that.” Molly’s eyes twinkled as she laughed. Before long, you wandered into the living room with a muffin in hand and sat in your favorite chair. Ron smiled at you from the couch. 

“I reckon George will be happy to see you,” He chuckled. 

“I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Georgie since school got out,” You said. You and George were usually attached at the hip, but you’d been off in America this summer visiting some great anunt you didn’t know you had. People usually joked that you were the long lost sister that made the twins, triplets. You didn’t feel that way towards George though. Unsurprisingly, you were head over heels for the younger twin. 

“Well, he’s been waiting all morning just to give you a hug. You should go say hi,” Ginny said, leaning over your chair to hug you herself. 

“It would be rude not to,” You giggled. With that, you rocketed up the stairs and landed just outside the door to the twins room. You knocked lightly. 

“We’re very busy,” One of them yelled. 

“Too busy for me?” You asked with mock sadness. The door flew open and George wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around. Fred laughed loudly. 

“(Y/N)! You’re back! Great to see you,” George laughed, squeezing you tightly. You laced your arms around his neck. 

“I told you should’ve come with me. It was sooooo boring without you,” You said. And it had been. 

Your great aunt was a little, grey, ninety year old lady who looked far older. She’d been sweet, but incredibly boring. Of course, there wasn’t much to do there either considering her closest neighbors were a mile in either direction and the nearest town was an hour away. God, you’d wished George had come with you. At least then you would have had someone to dip around with. It was incredible how much you’d actually missed him. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Fred began to speak. 

“Wow, mate, did ya’ really miss your bird that much?” Fred asked. 

“Shut up,” George grumbled, flushing lightly.

“Do I get a hug from you or do you not like me anymore?” You asked, holding your arms out to Fred. He held his hands up, shaking his head with a grin. 

“Oh no, wouldn’t want the little brother getting jealous,” He teased. You laughed as you leaned into George. You were so happy to see him again that you nearly kissed him. Leaning your head back into his shoulder, you looked up at him. 

“Did ya miss me, Georgie?” You asked, sweetly. 

“Oh he missed you alright. You should’ve heard him at ni…” 

“You’re hungry, right (Y/N)?” George yelled, steering you towards the stairs. You snorted, knowing the sexual jokes always made him uncomfortable. He more or less picked you up and carried you down stairs to the kitchen where Molly was starting dinner (despite the fact that it was barely noon). She smile when the two of you entered the kitchen. 

“Oh aren’t you two just the cutest,” She said. You smiled, reaching for a second muffin. 

“I know. (Y/N) might weigh me down a bit, but I really do make us look good,” George said, striking a pose. 

“Oh yeah, you’re just, like, so totally cute.” He pouted at your tone. 

“I’m very cute,” He said. Laughing, you patted his cheek. You agreed with him. He was the cutest boy you’d ever seen. 

“The absolute cutest,” You said, squishing his cheeks between your palms and giving him an eskimo kiss. The skin under your hands became warm and it took everything you had not to laugh. 

“Go on you two,” Molly laughed, shooing you out of the kitchen. 

A few seconds later, you were sitting in his lap in the living room. You’d turned towards him so you could play with his hair. He’d grown it out since you told him you thought he’d look good with it that way. You were right. He very much did. Suddenly, Ginny laughed behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you could see the youngest Weasley’s trying and failing to stifle their laughter. You raised an eyebrow at them. 

“What?” You asked. Ginny shook her head. 

“God, George, could you get any redder?” She laughed. A quick look at his face told you that, no, he couldn’t get redder. 

“Merlin, (Y/N), what are you doing over there?” Ron asked. 

“Braiding his hair.” Both of them lost it, laughing for an uncomfortable amount of time as you turned back to George.

“I was right about the long hair. It suits you,” You said. He just watched you with an almost nervous smile on his lips. That was weird. You didn’t know George got nervous. 

“I know, now I can really say I’ve got better hair than you,” He said. You glared, playfully. 

“You wish.” 

When dinner finally rolled around, you and George had taken places next to each other at the table as usual. All the Weasley’s snickered as you did. Glancing at George, you saw him glare at his family. A warning. One that probably meant they needed to shut their mouths. You almost wanted to know what he was hiding, but you figured he’d tell you himself at some point. As you settled in and began to eat, Molly caught your attention. 

“(Y/N), dear, what color would you like your sweater this year?” She asked. Of course she would start knitting sweaters months early. 

“Whatever color you make his,” You said, nodding to George. 

“Why?” He asked, choking on his food. 

“I thought you’d like to match with someone other than Fred for once,” You said, sweetly. His face burned brightly and you stifled a laugh by shoving a forkful of peas in your mouth. 

“Awww, you and your girlfriend are gonna match, Georgie,” Fred joked. 

“She should be so lucky,” George chuckled, sounding slightly strained. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh but just imagine it. We’d be the power couple of Hogwarts,” You chuckled, only half joking. 

“True, but I’m a little out of your league,” He said. You snorted. 

“I’m sure I could win you over with my sparkling wit and my, uh, assets,” You said, leaning towards him with your chest puffed out to a comedic size. With a start, George fell out of his chair. 

“Ah, young love,” Mr. Weasley muttered, placing his hand over his wife’s. 

“You okay?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. 

“Great.” You pulled him back into his chair. 

“Great now that you’re here,” Ginny said with a bad imitation of a swooning George. You rolled your eyes. He glared at her. He was beginning to go as red as he had in the living room earlier. 

“You should’ve heard him, (Y/N). All summer it was ‘I wonder when (Y/N)’s getting back. I miss her so much’ we all got sick of hearing your name for a while there,” Ron said, smirking. Admittedly, you probably sounded about the same way to your own family with how often you talked about George. That was why they sent you back early. 

“Awwww, I missed you too,” You sing songed, making obnoxious kissy noises as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“Come off it,” George grumbled. 

“I thought you missed her,” Ginny said, rather unhelpfully. 

“Yeah, brother o’ mine, you were the one mumbling her name all ni…” Fred said. George flicked a spoonful of mashed potato’s at him to shut him up. You laughed, leaning back in your seat. 

After a good hour or so, you yawned. Traveling took a lot out of a person, especially when they came to the Weasley household. Scooting your chair closer to George, you rested your head on his shoulder. He looked at you and you yawned again, running your fingers through your hair. Molly took one look at you and started to push you towards the stairs. 

“Get to bed. You’ve had a long day,” She said, gently. Nodding, you made your way to the twins room, where you always slept. 

“Where the hell are my pajamas?” You mumbled, sleepily digging through your bag. 

After a few minutes of unsuccessful searching, you concluded that you probably threw them in your sister’s suitcase because you hadn’t had room in your own when you were packing to leave. Well, that put a damper on things. Looking around the room, your eyes landed on the little dresser. You began to rummage through it without much thought before you pulled out a big jumper. When you slid it on, you realized that it was George’s. Not only did the smell tip you off, but it had a big ‘G’ on the front. Shrugging, you crawled into bed and fell asleep almost instantly. 

The next morning, you didn’t bother to get dressed when you went down for breakfast. They’d seen you without pants before. Nothing new there. As soon as you entered the kitchen, you saw Bill leaned against the counter. He smiled at you and you gave him a sleepy wave. 

“What’re you doin’ here?” You yawned. 

“Figured I’d come home and say hi while everyone else was still home. Didn’t expect to see you,” He said. 

“Oh, well, it’s nice to see you. I’m just here ‘cause I wanted to see George,” You said. Bill’s lips curled into an amused smile as he scanned his eyes over the sweater you were wearing. 

“It’s been a long time, are you two together now?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, reaching for a mug. He handed it to you, pouring you some (coffee/ tea/ etc.) with a raised eyebrow. 

“No, why?” You asked. He laughed softly. 

“Given your hair and the jumper, it looks like you might have gotten up to something,” He teased. You blinked at him, absent mindedly trying to smooth your hair. It had no interest in being smoothed. 

“’M hungry,” You said, vaguely wandering into the dining room. 

“Morning,” You muttered, picking over the food on the table and ignoring the way everyone stared at you. When you finally filled your plate and sat down, you looked up at everyone. 

“What are you wearing?” George asked. You glanced down. 

“Your sweater. I slept in it last night.” The family continued to stare at you as you buttered a piece of toast. “Bill said I had sex hair.” 

“He what?” Molly sputtered. You smiled at her. 

“He said I had sex hair, well, implied it anyway,” You said. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw George flush red. 

“Ohhh, Georgie, what’d you get up to last night?” Fred asked, elbowing his twin. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” George spat out automatically. You snorted a laugh at how uncomfortable he seemed. Still, you felt a little bad about it. You didn’t mean to get him teased. 

Throughout breakfast the family teased George relentlessly. The second you were done eating, he dragged you from the table. You didn’t even get to finish you (coffee/tea/etc.). He pulled you all the way up to his room, face red in embarrassment. You smiled softly at him and yawned, still not totally awake. He watched you as you rubbed your face with the sleeves of his jumper. Despite the fact that you had slept in it, it still smelled like him which was nice. 

“I need to talk to you,” He said in an uncharacteristically serious voice.

“Here I be. Talk away,” You said, sitting criss cross on his bed. He couldn’t seem to look you in the eye; expertly avoiding it by looking at the top of your head. 

“I missed you. A lot,” He said. You smiled, reaching to give him a hug and successfully circling your arms around his middle. 

“I missed you too, you goof,” You said. He shifted uncomfortably. 

“No, uh, merlin this is hard,” He said. 

“That’s what she said,” You giggled. A soft laugh vibrated your cheek where you’d pressed it to his stomach. 

“Do you take anything seriously, (Y/N)?” He asked. 

“That’s rich coming from you.” He gave you a nervous smile, rubbing the back of his neck. His grin was sheepish and lopsided. You tipped your head to the side, realizing that he really did have something to tell you. 

“This would be much easier if you weren’t wearing my jumper,” He said. 

“Well, I’d take it off but, I’m not wearing anything underneath,” You said, shrugging. The tips of his ears turned cherry red and he sat next to you, staring directly ahead. 

“I love you,” He said, still rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Oh.” That was the best answer you had at the moment. Your dreams were coming true, so your brain was short circuiting. George still didn’t look at you, but he didn’t move either. He seemed to be frozen in some kind of embarrassed haze. Slowly, you crawled into his lap. 

“I love you too,” You said. His face erupted into a huge grin. 

“Kiss me immediately,” He demanded. Who were you to deny him? 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed you lips to his in a feather light touch. They were warm and far softer than you imagined they would be. It felt like a switch flipped in your brain and everything made sense. It felt like you’d just found your soulmate, as corny as that sounds. George rubbed your sides lightly, holding you as though you were a precious jewel. The kiss was soft with some nose bumping and little giggles. Every part of you just felt warm. When the two of you pulled apart, you rested your foreheads against each other and smiled. 

“Is this what they’ve been bugging you about this whole time?” You asked. He nodded. 

“Seems stupid that I was so afraid of telling you,” He said. You shrugged, laughing lightly. 

“I love you,” You said, pecking his lips again. 

“I love you too. Ha, I can say that as much as I want now. I could scream it from the roof if I wanted!” He laughed, jumping up. He was actually going to scream it from the roof. You knew him. 

“George no,” You said, reaching for him. He was already halfway out the window. 

“George yes.” Well, he might be an idiot, but he was your idiot. 

Mercury in Gemini - Miss Mercury Splendid 

A man speaking sense to himself is no madder than a man speaking nonsense not to himself.”  
 ―    Tom Stoppard

She speaks, moves, learns and thinks as quickly as two people at once. The Mercury in Gemini individual is easily spotted by restlessness, dazzling darting eyes, and flailing arms to exaggerate her point as she speaks her mind. She enjoys thorough conversations with herself and other people, and she uses communication to figure out exactly what she thinks and believes. Her insatiable, childlike curiosity spans across a broad range of topics and the mental acuity is rapid and unmatched. It’s almost impossible to keep up with the Mercury in Gemini person and she rarely waits for people to catch up to her. She is the cosmic child who forever asks ‘why?’, a textbook that detests admitting ‘I don’t know’ and an adult that begins sentences with ‘I think…’

Mercury in Gemini people are communicative naturals. Articulate and fascinating insights can make for a star in journalism, public relations, advertisement, blogging, radio, media, and teaching. The joy of learning can urge her to remain in school for as long as possible, and most of your permanent students have Mercury in Gemini. She can feel like she is stuck in motion and progressing if she is not learning or accelerating in study. I know a Mercury in Gemini person who, as a young child created her own news paper and magazine, and printed it out for her family - all for the fun of combining creativity with literacy. It’s common for her immediate surroundings to be cluttered with mental stimulants like phones, laptops, magazines, books, and boxsets. Because it’s difficult for the individual to sit still or remain passive, she will likely be doing two things at once like watching a serious and researching the characters online at the same time. Her quicksilver and erratic temperament can make her impossible to plan with and predict her future actions. She can be a riddle in a book of stories, and it can be difficult to figure out the truth from the lie. She can talk herself out of trouble with cunning skill, and she can become forgetful during convenient moments. 

The Mercury in Gemini person thinks so quickly and accumulates so much information she can neglect the more practical elements of life like paying the bills and remembering appointments. Despite active cleverness, multiple words and thoughts fight for her mind and she becomes easily distracted, scattered and air headed. She may frequently lose things or forget important details. There is a quick tendency for boredom and she tunes out immediately when she is no longer learning or she has heard the story before. She will do just about anything to escape from boredom because it may be extremely overwhelming for her to sit alone with her thoughts. She always needs some form of distraction because her thoughts can be overly commanding and chaotic, and her mind can feel impossible to still. The Gemini charm glows at home in Mercury, and she can be found surrounded by an engaged crowd transfixed in her verbal delivery and rollercoaster wordplay. Her mind is brimming diamond clarity and playfulness like it has been soaked in champagne, and she is nourished and intoxicated by the simple exchange of ideas. 


[art: xue wang]

You got me going again

For @absnow.  Henry/Lizzie from The White Princess Modern AU.  ~1,800 words, rated T for now but definitely gonna have an M-rated part II because I know what I’m about.  (Title from Pink’s You Make Me Sick because I was born in 1985, okay?)

“Whatever it is, the answer’s no,” Lizzie said with her eyes still on the pile of papers on her desk.

She knew without looking up that Henry’s jaw tensed and his nostrils flared.  “It wasn’t a question,” he bit out.  “We have to present to the American investors next week.  They’ll want to see that we’re working under unified leadership so we’re both going. End of discussion.”

He swanned out of her office and Lizzie waited until he was gone to stick out her tongue.  Immature, yes, but Henry Tudor was the bane of her existence.  Her father had built York Industries— pardon, Westminster Industries now— out of nothing, only for this nobody to crawl out of some gutter and take it over.  She’d be damned if he got all the glory of securing a new line of investment, however, so apparently, she was going to New York.  An email from Margaret popped up on her screen, confirming the tickets.

At least he had the sense to book First Class tickets.  But still, she wrinkled her nose at the idea of spending several days with no one but his royal-pain-in-the-arseness to deal with, and then returned to signing the contracts.  She’d deal with him later.

Henry Tudor


Why did your mother think she would be welcome on this trip?

Elizabeth stopped stuffing brushes into her makeup bag and groaned.  Because this company should be hers, not yours she wanted to scream, but instead she ran her tongue across her teeth and angrily tapped out a response.

Elizabeth York


Perhaps because she doesn’t trust someone with absolutely no qualifications to run a multinational company like ours.

Henry Tudor


You mean like mine.

Elizabeth screeched in frustration, the sound echoing around her bathroom.

Elizabeth York


Buying something doesn’t make it yours.  But I can’t imagine someone like you would know that.

Elizabeth York


How much did your last date cost, by the way?

She felt a vicious surge of satisfaction as the message zoomed away, even if it was a low blow.  And truth be told, she was a little annoyed that her mother had tried to talk Margaret into booking her on the trip too— mostly because the optics were terrible— but she understood her mother’s frustration with being out of the loop after running things for so long.  Lizzie couldn’t imagine being sidelined like that, and she knew her mother was going mad up in Grafton with nothing to do but raise the little ones.  Elizabeth Woodville was not meant to be a housewife, anymore than Lizzie was.  

Her phone rattled on the counter with another incoming message.

Henry Tudor


You’re a brat, did you know that?

Lizzie made another face at her phone— sooner or later she was going to slip up and do it to the man himself, which would not be good— and continued angrily packing.

Three days.  She only had to make it three days.

Keep reading

I need to talk about Kid a bit

Yes movie 19 inspired me but like, I’m constantly trying to rationalize why he’s just so damn popular. I mean, what makes me so excited to see him appear, to defy reality and interact with the cast?

I’ve mused on it for a while and came up with a few personal, meta reasons why he’s a recipe for success.

Keep reading

The Meaning of Life, Hot Chocolate and a Bun.

University was by and large a horrible time for me, I didn’t enjoy the “learning” experience, but I do have some fun and lovely memories. Like my friend K and I racing each other to the top of the Literature Tower (20 flights) and almost passing out/vomiting at the top, my professor trying to bum a smoke from all of us standing outside on a regular basis, and then there was the refectory at the base of the Literature Tower, a little hole in the wall which you had to go through narrow twisting corridors to get to and was rarely busy as a result, but once you where there it was warm and the food was good.

One day my class “Scottish Lit” (an elective, rather than a compulsory, which is more than a little odd considering I was in Scotland, but this is not the time or place to talk about the inherent bigotry in British academia towards the other three countries in the “United” Kingdom) had to be cancelled at the last minute. A bit of a blow considering it was an 8am class and I had to get up at 6 to get there only to find an apology scrawled on the door. It was also my only class of the day. But rather than go home where I would inevitably go back to bed and sleep for the rest of the day, I decided to drop into the refectory for some breakfast before I went. It also just so happened that the new Terry Pratchett book, Going Postal, had just come out that morning, and I’d dropped into Waterstones on my way past to uni. So off I went, traipsing my way through the halls until I found the back alcove where the uni had set up the eating nook. Unfortunately, because I hadn’t planned on eating there I didn’t have enough money for actual food, having spent my last ten quid until pay day on the book and stupidly left my bank card at home. I did however have enough money for a hot chocolate so I got that and told the server to cancel the tattie scone in a roll (good balanced Scottish breakfast that, fried potato scone slathered in butter and served in a morning roll with ketchup, om nom nom)

So I found myself a nice little spot out of the way, made myself comfortable and pulled out my book and started to read. It took me a while to realize that my hot chocolate kept magically refilling itself- about 4 hours later- when I was starting to feel slightly sick from the milk overdose on an empty stomach. It was then that I also noticed the iced bun in front of me, and looked up at the server, who gave me a nod and wink and waved his own copy of Going Postal at me from behind the counter and promptly went back to his own reading.

It was a really lovely moment that stayed with me, and always comes to mind whenever I reach for Moist Von Lipwig to cheer me up. Not just because the book is thrilling and funny and sparkles with pure Pratchett wit and poignancy, but because of that moment, that little quiet moment in the back eating room of a tower named for books, another human being wanted to be kind and fed someone else, even though they didn’t have to. And I can’t help but think that’s what Pratchett tried to teach us.

We’re not superheroes, we can’t stop a bullet and we can’t turn back time by flying really fast, hell we can’t even fly. But we can be kind. And despite what the cynics believe, the people who profess it’s a “dog eat dog world” when what they really mean is “it’s a dog eat rat world and you’re the rat” and say things like “that’s just the way it is”, kindness is our greatest strength. Kindness and doing what is right in small little ways, until they make up the whole.

Everyone says the meaning of life is 42, but to me it’s 41.

41 books that tried with all their might to impart the importance of kindness to others, that one small deed can indeed change the world. In the grand scheme of things hot chocolate and an iced bun doesn’t mean much. But it meant something. It still does. It meant empathy, compassion, and in it’s purest form it meant love.

And there’s no greater power than that.


Imagine Bofur always pretending to oversleep in the mornings because he knows it’ll be you who’ll try to wake him and he wants you to be the first thing he sees.

Imagine it being so cold that you and Bofur have to strip down to your skivvies and cuddle in a sleeping bag for warmth.  @twinsinanarchy

Imagine Bofur giving you a bad pick up line ‘I moustache you to be mine’ which makes you blush since you are in love with him. @antivanilla

Originally posted by evy-miller

word count 1837

Bofur was a flirt, the whole mountain range knew it. I knew it too, having seen him hitting on anyone and everyone when he was in his cups. Even when he wasn’t, he was a charmer, always a song in his heart and a joke – oft-times ribald – on his lips. Mahal’s beard, he was charming enough to get away with wearing such ridiculous headwear!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

@ that thing about Megatron with a sparkling on the Lost Light: you just fucking turned my heart into mush. what if megatron's deep rumbly voice was the best damn thing that sparkling heard while on the LL? as in whenever it gets distressed, he just sort of smushes them into the crook of his neck and gently talks to them at a much lower pitch than normal and it just calms them down right away? what would everyone's reactions be at first seeing this?


The first time it happens the sparkling is loving it. Not only does the little cybertronian love and enjoy how soothing Megatron’s voice is but they also get lots of attention from him, and they get to be held super protectively by the one being they truly trust and love? Primus yes. No one on the ship has ever witnessed a sparkling calm down so quickly compared to when that sparkling is in Megatron’s hold. It’s surrogate sire Megatron to the rescue with his deep rumbly voice from then and on.

But for real, the first time it happens everyone in the room is high-key shook. Like, did they honestly just witness Megatron pick that sparkling up without an ounce of hesitation and calm it the fuck down with nothing but his voice? That’s some serious character development on Megatron’s part. First he wants nothing to do with the sparkling and can’t grasp why in the name of the 13 Primes it’s latched onto him and now he’s picking the sparkling up like it’s nobodies business.

After a while it just becomes such a regular occurrence and Megatron can often be found basically cooing speaking quietly to the sparkling as it drifts off into stasis, held protectively in one of his servos, snuggled up next to his neck cables, while he’s reading through one of Ultra Magnus’ reports on a data pad in the other. His faceplate is seemingly indifferent and pretty neutral as usual, but on the inside, he’s happy and content.

No other being alive will catch him say it but he really does love that sparkling. They’ve definitely grown on him and have managed to leave their mark, and, despite everything, he’s glad that he was the mech they chose to latch onto and trust. No matter what, he knows he’d protect that sparkling with his life if it came down to it.

Getting To Know You

Jasper Hale imagine requested by anon! “hi! i’d like to please request an imagine in which jasper meets his human mate for the first time/is slightly taken aback because she’s essentially his polar opposite? like him being unsure how to act because she’s very vivacious/confident/joke-y?” Hope you like it!

You were concerned, at first, to be paired with the sullen, silent Hale twin you’d heard so little about; other than his exquisite good looks and polite refrain from conversation, he was all but a mystery to Forks High. You weren’t the type to pry your way into scenes you weren’t a part of, especially when it came to cracking the quiet kid’s shell open, but you couldn’t help but fidget with your mental crowbar when he chose his seat beside you in your History class, a subject he usually sat out, his desk’s partner eternally vacant, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened intently to each lecture. God, you hadn’t realized how hyper-aware of him you were until just now, while you sat comparing his every strange action to his usual reclusive state. You hadn’t expected him to sit beside you because he usually walked passed your desk en route to his shadowy corner, and you hadn’t expected him to glance your way as he sat because he usually kept his head ducked, avoiding eye contact, nodding apologetically, respectfully if he dared to stare at someone. But here he was, the man of the hour, his body slightly inclined toward you, his arms folded on the desk before him. His eyes weren’t brown, as you had suspected, but a gold colour, something warmer than yellow but colder than butterscotch. They were bright, they were attentive, and their focus came paired with an inquisition.

“Hello,” he spoke, his voice quiet and kind, his lips turning up in the corners, though they remained pressed in a thin sort of line. “Do you mind if I sit here today? I thought I should be closer to the board. My eyes…” he trailed off, a hand slowly, almost cautiously raised to his eye-level, a finger making absentminded circles in the air beside his temple, as if to physically explain his troubled eyesight. You nodded, granting the strange boy a smile.

“Yeah, not a problem. Never thought I’d see the day you stepped out of the shadows, there,” you noted, your voice lilting with the ease of your joking laughter. Jasper’s brow furrowed, his eyes dropping out of focus just beside your hands, though his expression remained light, open, his lips parting over words he seemed to have to organize before speaking.

“I’m sorry, have I been so rude as to never introduce myself?” His eyes lifted to meet yours, the intensity of his casual stare closing a vice around your heart, your chest growing tight. It wasn’t that you were frightened, per say, more… disarmed by his attentiveness. “My name is Jasper Hale. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am-” He cleared his throat, shaking his head almost unnoticeably, before extending his hand for you to shake. You obliged, your hand frozen in his, shocked by the chill of his skin. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, moving your hand in his shortly before breaking contact.

“I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’m old enough for ma’am, though. At least wait until a woman hits forty before you pull that tone,” you snickered, raising your brows, your head tilted in his direction, your hands rubbing against each other beneath the desk, hoping to chase the ice from your fingers. “Young man.” Jasper ducked his head at your punctuated remark, a grin playing across his lips, though he fought for his composure before speaking, not quite managing to banish his smile before speaking, hushing his voice to accommodate for the beginning of class.

“My apologies. I was raised in the South before moving to Washington with my adopted family,” he explained, his voice leaking hints of his former drawl, his eyes on the window behind your head. “I’ll never get used to the clouds you’ve got up here.” You nodded in understanding, turning your face to the rain as it ran in streams down the streak-swept windowpanes the janitors had neglected for at least a week too long. A voice whispered, far closer to your ear than before, continuing your conversation. “I miss the sunlight. You don’t get much here.” You turned slowly, finding Jasper leaning away from you, a kindred smile on his closed lips, his eyes shooting towards the board, a notebook on the desktop before him, his hand flying easily over the lined paper as he took notes on the current lecture. You bent to remove your own notebook from your book bag, searching about in the mess you knowingly allowed to consume all hope for organization, your hands struggling to find a writing utensil. Jasper nudged your elbow with his, extending his uncapped pen in your direction. “I can listen in. Good memory,” he explained, his fingertips brushing against yours as he handed you his pen. You shivered absentmindedly, thanking him under your breath.

“I can see why you miss the sun. You run cold or something?” He stiffened beside you, his brow furrowing with exaggerated, but serious, confusion, as if hoping to divert you with his lack of understanding. “Seriously, you’re freezing. You need to go bake in the sun for a while if you want to pass as a warm-blooded human like the rest of us,” you jibed, scribbling a few key points onto your paper, watching Jasper melt beside you from the corner of your eye. Sensing it was safe to continue, you allowed yourself another go at his unnatural temperature. “I mean, really, we’ve all stuck our hands in ovens before. Can’t let the mortals know we’re dead on the outside, too.” Jasper shifted until his torso was almost completely turned to you, his eyes quizzical on yours.

“I don’t understand you,” he stated, his voice a hair louder than before, his brow knotted with curiosity. You started at his directness, cursing yourself for tormenting the quiet kid, no matter how handsome he was or how good-natured you believed your jests to be. It was always the quiet ones, you reminded yourself, that started fires in the men’s room with intent to burn the school. His eyes fell to your stiffen posture before returning to your face, his hand raised at the wrist from the desktop, buffering his oncoming statement. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend. All I meant was… I take pride in my ability to… read people, but…” he paused, his head tilting from the strain of his confusion. “I’ve got nothing on you. I don’t understand.” You nodded slowly, a mischievous smile toying with the corners of your mouth.

“So that’s why you sit so quietly back there. You’re taking notes on your classmates,” you snickered, your hand reaching across his arm to snag his notebook, his jaw tightening as your eyes ravaged his impeccable handwriting. “What is this?” you whispered, breathless at the words he had written. Incorrect, incorrect, never happened, didn’t happen like that, wrong body count, read his bullet points. “What do you mean, incorrect? Were you some kind of child prodigy? Did you go to college when you were thirteen or something, major in Civil War studies?” He remained silent his eyes on the cover of his notebook as you read, his shoulders unmoving from their stance angled towards your body. “What does ask Alice mean?” His hands were taking the notebook from yours then, his head shaking.

“Alice is my sister. I had to remind myself to ask her for her notes. You have my pen, she has this class after lunch.” You feigned offense, a hand on your chest.

“This was a gift, Mr. Hale. How very rude of you. What would the South say about this?” His composure cracked, a smile dancing on his lips, his eyes on yours. You continued in this fashion until you had expended your History class, poking fun at your companion’s constant denial of the facts your teacher supplied. Just moments before the bell dismissed you, Jasper’ attention was once more absorbed in your eyes, his stare direct, his features friendly, though his eyes danced with curiosity.

“Would you like to have lunch with me?” he asked, his voice stronger, louder now that the bell was blaring, setting the rest of your classmates sprinting for the door. “I’d like to get to know you, if that’s alright.” You smiled, handing him his pen, pushing yourself up from your seat.

“Sounds like a plan. Should we start with my childhood, or with yours?” He chuckled, rising to stand beside you, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, snagging yours from behind your chair.

“No, there’s not much to talk about there. I was a bit of a… problem child,” he spoke, continuing though his laughter at you quick, disbelieving quip, “I got into a lot of fights. Not much else to talk about.” You sighed dramatically, watching the sparkle behind Jasper’s eyes glimmer as you followed him into the aisle, your eyes on his. “I’d like to hear about you, though.”

“Hmm, since you can’t read me very well, I suppose it’s my duty to clue you in, huh?” He shook his head, his laughter bubbling from within his chest. “Well, for starters, I have a habit of going for the throat with people I don’t know, mocking their past and their reclusive tendencies, stealing their school supplies and baiting them into extended conversation with my sparkling wit,” you nudged his arm, barely throwing him off-balance. He shrugged at your words, his lips twisted in a playful grimace.

“I’m not sure I’d call that going for the throat, but… it seems about right.” You traveled with him through the halls, aware of the eyes drilling holes in your back and in his, though he didn’t seem to notice the concern the school had for this new side of the silent Jasper Hale. A girl passed by with jaw agape, and unapologetically so, to hear him speaking to someone outside of his tight-knit family group. Whispers surrounded you as you walked to the lunchroom, expecting to join the Cullens and Jasper’s twin sister at their usual table, surprised when you both bypassed their seating to travel outside, Jasper holding he door open for you like a true Southern gentleman. You stared at him, inquisitive, unsure why such a polite young man would leave his family waiting at the metaphorical alter. He smirked at your apparent horror, handing you your book bag, which contained your lunch, settling into your seat as you rifled about for your paper bag. “They won’t mind much. We spend a lot of time together.” He settled beside you, assuming his usual position, his posture angled towards you, his attention completely invested. You removed an apple from your bag, staring at the empty space before him.

“Aren’t you going to get lunch?” you asked, to which he replied that he wasn’t hungry. Come to think of it, you couldn’t recall ever seeing him with food on his tray. Perhaps the Cullens weren’t as wealthy as everyone assumed. He denied your offering of your apple, insisting he was fine. “Didn’t you have to ask Alice about something? The notes?” He replied, confusingly, that he’d already asked her, indirectly. You assumed he meant he had texted her, but he glanced through the glass at his family’s table, tipping his head ever so slightly at his brother’s waiting glance, his bronze hair catching light as he turned to address the smallest of the bunch. Had you missed him speak to his brother? You had passed so swiftly, it was possible he could have bent his head as you moved toward the door, but he’d been there to open it for you. You made a small sound of confusion, sparking Jasper’s interest once more. The boy straightened, returning his focus to your face.

“So, are you… seeing anyone?” he inquired, causing you to nearly choke on the chunk of apple you had intended to swallow. You caught your breath, your eyes wide on his. He was concerned behind the humour splattering his features, his lips barely concealing their inclination to smile at your failure to complete the most basic human task of eating.

“Jesus, you’re direct,” you noted, checking for saliva on the corners of your mouth, dragging the backside of your hand over your lips. He waited patiently for you to calm yourself, clearly serious from his silence. “Um, no, I’m not seeing anyone right now. Any reason why you’re asking?” Jasper rolled his eyes, a playful expression you hadn’t seen him take part in before now. Perhaps you were rubbing off on him.

“I’m sure the conclusion isn’t very hard to come by.” You remained quiet, abandoning your apple completely, waiting for him to continue. “Like I mentioned before, I don’t understand you. I’d like to. You’ve surprised me today, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it, about you, before. Having spoken to you now, though, I can see that this could be a very interesting friendship, or… more than a friendship.” He offered a simple smile, his eyes unashamed by his confession. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to muster his courage in a hundred years. He tucked a strand of honey-blond hair behind his ear, his hands falling to the grated table, his fingers twined, thumbs together. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve met before, and I’ve been around for… I’ve been around a lot of places, I’ve met a lot of people. And you… I’d like to know you better, is all.” You grinned, feeling the warmth of your blush paint your cheeks with what you hoped would be a delicate rose, but you knew was, realistically, the most garish display of blood beneath skin to ever grace mankind. You moved to shield your cheeks with your hand, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“I have no idea how to react around you,” you admitted, watching his eyes glow beneath the cover of clouds above, lingering after the earlier rainstorm.

“We can work on that, together,” Jasper whispered, his lips moving to a breathtaking smile, his inquiry picking up where you’d left off in history, creating your own as you went.

I get emotional thinking about how Beatrice is all air and fire, all blazing wit and sparkling intellect. She’s “born under a dancing star” with “little of the melancholy element” - that is, earth - in her. She burns with love and anger, and her passions can only tend towards absolute love or absolute hate. She will eat the heart of the man who wrongs her kinswoman, and as for Benedick she’ll “hate him deadly or love him dearly” - kill him, or make him her husband and love him for the rest of her life. Everything about her is red and burning and dangerous, and her love is so hot and bright, her anger so visceral, her spirit so dazzling, she is pure fire clothed in a woman’s shape it is literally no wonder that every man in the play is awed by her 

Hot Wit: As you can see, Sparky, the scientific developments in the future may be imaginary, but the way they affect us is real.
Witshine: Indeed. Aside from the push-button living of a utopian future, just replace “hoverboard” with “jetpack” and you’ll know how I felt.
Soul Wit: I wanted to have a cool sword with a laser for a blade, or at least get down at a space disco, but unfortunately, all that would’ve happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…
Witsend: And I always wanted to be the One who lives in a dystopian future where I was awakened from my reality that is actually a simulation, and when I gain confidence in my abilities in the real reality, I could bend the laws of physics and look really cool dodging bullets in slow motion while being shot at by hordes of agents trying to eliminate me!
Sparkle Wit:
Witsend: Then again, for all we know, our very reality is a simulation that I’ve yet to be awakened from, which means that I may still have a chance!