Hey can you please rec me some good blogs? Thanks you!!
Oh my god! This is so hard for me because i follow amazing blogs… You weren’t very specific about which kind of blog you wanted: Liam centric, Larry centric, drama or non-drama. So you’ll get a mix of blogs that i love and are my mutuals :)
Okay I swear I've looked everywhere but I may have made this whole story up? Phil has a neko which is Dan. One day Phil meets a sad neko outside who says she is sad because her owner or bf abuses her. Phil let's her stay in the house. She was making it all up to get Phil and she tricked dan by saying Dan hit her and stuff. I think she used makeup to fake bruises? It's not the fic lonely which is kind of similar. Also her name may have been molly or Mary? Please and thank you!
This sounds exactly like the second half of the plot of my fic Brick by Brick, except the roles are reversed and it’s omegaverse instead of neko? But does anyone know what else it could be?
Brick by Brick - (tw) No one said having an unmated Alpha and an unmated Omega living under the same roof was going to be easy, but add in a mess of feelings and desire, and things go from bad to worse. When Phil Lester asked his best friend, Dan Howell, to move in with him, he thought he could ignore his feelings and refrain from submitting, but with an oblivious Dan scenting him every other day, he decides he has to put a stop to it. Jealousy and misunderstandings collide to throw their lives into chaos, forcing both men to reconsider their relationship. Will they ever get their happy ending, or will prevalent sexism force them apart?
how do you keep hope alive for finding love after heartbreak, and also to be content with my life until someone else comes along?
hi there. To keep hope alive, just remember that you will always love. There is no one single soulmate for anyone. You will find love again. You will heal, and you will love again. Try to remember that. I went through a really really hard breakup and ended up in another loving relationship over a year later.
Because of this, i was single for my entire Junior year of high school and most of senior year. These were actually some of the best years of my life and really really had a lot of fun and found myself really growing and flourishing. I focused on the people in my life that were my friends. That was what made me super happy. and I was totally content being single, because I was so happy.
I posted a fic the other day called An Unkindness of Absence (h/t to @wraithwitch for helping me find a title), about Childermass processing his grief for Mr Norrell, after the latter had disappeared off into the darkness with Jonathan Strange. @bookhobbit and @catherineofwinchester left some very kind comments, which I ended up responding too in a rather long and rambling reply to the latter. I’m going to repost it here, because I Have Opinions, and they’ve been bugging me.
OfShoesAndShips commented: “He, and Norrell with him, seem to be being rather overlooked at the
moment and it’s so nice to see their relationship treated with such care
This, in a nutshell, is why I wanted to write
this, because yes, their relationship does seem to get completely
overlooked unless it’s in a slashy way. Now, I know a lot of people ship
these two, either romantically or queer-platonically, and I don’t
want to disrespect that, but I very much don’t for various complicated,
personal reasons. It seems like the only alternatives out there to
“in romantic/qp love” are “professional indifference” or even somewhat
antagonistic, and that doesn’t ring true for me either. I struggle to
believe that two people can spend 26 years in a close, trusting
relationship and not care deeply about each other, and I really don’t
believe that Childermass’s only interest in Norrell was as a vehicle to
return magic to England. I’m not going to pull quotes from the book,
because a lot of how I feel about them is based on vague impression, the
body-language between Enzo and Eddie in the show version, and a
liberal smattering of headcanon/fanon, mostly of the a) Norrell is
autistic, and b) Childermass had a horrible, traumatic childhood
I absolutely believe that they loved each other, even if they weren’t in love,
that it was a kind of found-family-mutual-care-kinship sort of love. Mr
Norrell found someone who was empathic enough to recognise that his
slightly odd needs were authentic (not being spoiled/fussy/difficult, or
something to “fix”), and went out of his way to accommodate them.
Someone who was patient with him. Childermass found someone who judged
him on his ability, not on his background, and in that feeling of being
both needed and wanted. I also think that Childermass acted out
the nurturing that he never received, hence the “Looking after people,
by all accounts, is what I do” mentality. I suspect Norrell wasn’t
consciously aware of this love, because as bookhobbit mentioned recently in a post of theirs, Mr Norrell couldn’t name his feelings if they walked up to him
wearing a “Hello, my name is…” badge, shook his hand, and introduced
themselves. I reckon Childermass did though, because Childermass
understands people, for all his self-neglecting,
ignore-it-until-it-goes-away attitude towards his own needs. That’s why
he’s so bloody protective.
So of course the falling out and subsequent rejection would be immensely hurtful to Childermass. Of course
losing Norrell to the darkness, probably never to see him again,
without being able to make amends would be devastating. He’s losing a
piece of himself, that’ll be so hard to adjust to, and it might even
have been easier if Norrell were really dead, because then he wouldn’t
have to worry about him. I really, really wanted to acknowledge that
pain, that loss, that depth of feeling, because it feels so forgotten by
the fandom. And then, because I’m not a complete bastard, put
Childermass on the road to healing, because the poor sod deserves a
If you want to read this fic in that context, btw, I have no argument against that, do what makes you happy. I have left the exact nature of their relationship vague.
I’d be lying if I said that how I headcanon and write the
relationship between Childermass and Norrell is not at all based on
personal experience, but it would be unfair on my “Norrell” to go into
any more detail.
Anyone else notice, in the show, how Childermass is usually stood
next to, or three-quarters on to Norrell and making minimum eye contact,
especially when he’s trying to influence him? The only times he
looms at Norrell are when he’s really pissed off at him. Compare and
contrast to Lascelles, who is always up in Norrell’s face. Yeah, that.
John Childermass: not brooding in the sense of dark and mysterious,
brooding in the sense of “Get the away from my precious child or I will
fuck you up”.
James Potter: seventeen, hair got struck by lightning at age
four and hasn’t sat down since, knuckles that jut out, holds his wand between
his teeth to impress girls- to impress the
girl, doesn’t own one pair of matching socks, the kind of attractive that
fills the ribs, fills the shoulder blades, fills the heart, Sirius painted his
nails once and he kept the polish on all week, sees the girl before registering anyone else in the room, young organs
pumping young blood, wired to himself, to his boys, to the girl, can tell what you’re about to say before you say it, he’s
just sort of like that, has a habit of leaning arms on peoples shoulders, starts
the trust fall before anyone realises they’re meant to be catching him
Sirius Black: seventeen, eats whipped cream by the fork
full, rolls up the sleeves of his robes, begins most conversations with: you absolute fuck, column of his throat
running down the neck like water, leaves his text books all over school, made
of gut feeling, of instinct, of starting before you know how to finish, a part
of him still stuck in that house, with the door slamming, with his mother
yelling, with the world ending, he is
the bomb going off in the swimming pool, he has probably made a bomb go off in
the swimming pool, smoking just outside the door- look- you can see the smoke,
you can see the shaking hands.
Remus Lupin: seventeen, jumpy, long eyelashes, the sullen quiet of fog
in winter, scars up the arms, round the neck, across the chest, eyes that stare
as if they are waiting for permission, plays the same records until he’s mouthing
the words in his sleep, gives out flowers for gifts, sarcasm that could stop
the heart, soft, like the skin above your collar bone, like stained glass
windows with light through them, like seeing a star in a textbook, knowing
that something that good is out there
even if it is far away, often has wind billowing through his baggy t-shirts, pulls
out his bottom lip when thinking, at night wakes up sweating, dreaming of blood
in his mouth, the kind you get when you rip an arm off, when you lick the bone
Peter Pettigrew: seventeen, socks right to the knee, eating
an ice cream, has a sore neck from always looking up, raw fingernails- bitten
to the cuticles, full of fear, oozing fear, could fill cathedrals with this
fear, burns books for no reason, unmade bed, the flush of a cheek that is bloated,
a mound of blood, sits on the floor because there is no room at the table,
counts on his fingers, pulled a muscle when walking up the fourth staircase,
shuts his eyes, opens them, realises he is still in his own skin, pale, a stick
of white, unassuming, like flowers, or the moment the ground gives way, all at
once, as if it was going to all along