How Do You Think Mad Eye Would React To You Being Drunk And Flirty And Touchy With Him?

Just for fun, I just thought a poster like this should appear:

Eivor: I'm adopting a child.

Ceolbert: That's gre-"

Eivor: *Slams adoption papers down on the table* It's you, sign here.

love this show

LMAO I JUST REALIZED THAT I GAVE SOMEONE ON TIKTOK MY TUMBLR

THEY KNOW MY FACE 💀

It's my birthday today!

I'm finally 18 eheh <3

So happy birthday to me !

Ok hear me out.......... wlw Wilhuff Tarkin and Orson Krennic-

the dynamic very much is unhinged creative vs rigid control freak in a context of evil bureaucracy- and personally the context is why I love to read stories with imperials jdjdkd nothing is more crack cocaine literature for me than to make drama in a space office filled with awful people

More flavor text and me trying to sell you on why this ship of two truly terrible people is great below vvv

For Krennic, lean more into the evil genius artist. She's been up for 46 hours straight drawing schematics, she's rambling about incomprehensible shit, her only meals have been cigarettes and energy drinks, she's so full of herself she might one day think she's god, she's gonna die by 60. She doesn't care much about the politics of the empire, but they don't bother her either. She works for the imperials because they have a lot funds to give to engineers willing to build them a battle station the size of a moon capable of blowing up planets. Before that she worked on a lot a architectures on imperial center/Coruscant.

The imperial uniforms are a bit boring- so I'm taking full advantage of the fact Krennic is more of an engineer/architect to tweak her uniform a bit (and the cape was already not respecting regulations sooooo) For Tarkin I'm keeping it tho, this woman won't be caught dead without it.

For Tarkin, lean less into the whole buff survivalist aspect- she very much was in her youth, but she *is* a 65 year old woman based on *Peter Cushing*, and has been in a very high and prestigious position within the empire for the past 20 years. She still as an extensive knowledge on how to survive in nature, and fight with her bare hands or a knife, but that doesn't come up very often in her line of work anymore. She still killed a space bear unharmed when she was like 17 tho. She hates chaos and developed the main philosophy that drove the empire to this day : to govern with fear and impose order. She is a bloodthirsty woman in her sixties, with a never ending hunger for power, currently cheating on her wife with a coworker she hates.

They both love the death star more than they tolerate each other, but they did end up bonding over plotting the demise of one coworker they couldn't stand and digging out rebel spies. Make no mistake tho, this is very much a love triangle/trouple between two women and a giant battle station.

In the end, Tarkin killed Krennic by shooting her from orbit with the death star, the project was finally finished, she didn't need her anymore and she might have gotten in the way of her control of the station.

Tarkin dies a few days later during the battle of Yavin, along the death star, not willing to back down in her moments of glory.

PS : a lot of this is inspired by the fic "Propagating structure" by oneinspats ! it's what made me like and understand this pairing, and is truly a great work of fiction. I really think this fic is a masterful work when it comes to expending the character of Krennic, and extrapolating on existing things. Exploring his more creative side, his passion for his work, his truly abysmal lifestyle, giving him a hatred of nature and a background as an architect on Coruscant. While also keeping his horrific aspects, like reading his internal (or external) monologues sometimes makes my skin crawl with how disgusting his ideas are and how deep they run, but making him an interesting and compelling protag for the story. While all of it is surrounded by this delicious dramatic irony, because we know that no matter how hard they try to scheme (or fuck), the death star will blow up and it's incredible.

Siths/Imps on the gay clothing alignment chart

If you guys know where the blank version is, let me know - I can’t find the post I saved it from (;_; ) 

Too Good to Be True

“Mad-Eye” Moody was lying in bed, his body fully relaxed, same as his mind. His only eye leisurely wandered the walls of the room, dimly lit by the light of a new day breaking through the curtains, while his thoughts drifted further. He wondered if all this could turn out to be just a dream? After all, can a person feel so happy outside of a dream? And if this wasn’t a dream, how on Earth then did he deserve to draw such a lucky ticket?

He ran his hand over the creased sheets on the other side of the bed and smiled, listening to the quiet splashing of water coming from the bathroom.

He no longer felt lonely. Since the moment he met her, she had never let him feel lonely again. She accepted him with all his scars and rough edges, with all his oddities and weird traits, and - as she insisted - with numerous virtues. Although Moody thought she was exaggerating, he chose not to dissuade her. The tenderness her eyes emitted as she listed his strong points, trying to prove there were plenty of reasons to love him, disarmed him. If she wanted to consider him a hero, so be it.

The door creaked open, and a neat silhouette of a woman appeared in the semi-darkness. She seemed even more slender in his large shirt that she borrowed. The old Auror’s heart raced. Still a little rumpled after sleep, with crumpled curls carelessly sticking out of the mane of her hair, she didn’t need to look flawless for him to consider her a goddess.

She gave him a gentle smile, so familiar, intended only for him, and he returned it gratefully. They needed no words to tell how much they loved each other - their looks, gestures and touches spoke for them.

With a soft fluttering of affection spreading in his chest, Moody watched her approach the window. She drew the curtains open to let some light in, and, leaning on the windowsill, as she usually did, took a moment to look out on the street.

When she turned around, her face lit up with a wide smile.

“How’s the weather?” he stretched out his hand, inviting her back into his embrace. “Seems fine.”

“It’s perfect!”

With a playful smirk she stepped over his wooden leg - only Merlin knows how it ended up in that corner after the previous night - and returned to bed. She crawled under the blanket, and sank into the hold of a man. He stroked her shoulder, that was left uncovered, and pulled the blanket up, squeezing her tighter. She snuggled closer to him and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and absorbing the warmth of his body. She had never known a safer place than the grasp of his strong arms.

“I feel so good with you, Alastor,” she whispered.

It would never stop astounding him, how it had happened, but he knew she meant it.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, planting a kiss on her forehead.

She looked up at him. Without that magical eye his features seemed so much softer. She reached out to caress his face, streaked with cobwebs of wrinkles and scars, but still attractive to her eyes, and he caught his breath at the tenderness of her touch. She was proud to have the privilege of seeing him in a plain and honest way - caring, delicate, sensitive. The warmth of his glance wrenched something inside of her - every time - and she felt the urge to assure him how much he was needed, how much he was loved - over and over again. She smiled fondly and leaned closer. Her lips covered his with sincerity and devotion, and he responded eagerly, just as tender, savoring her taste, her warmth, her love.

The longer it lasted, the more they needed. The sparks of passion twirling in intermingled flows of their hot breathing kept flaring with growing intensity.

Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the window with a loud clatter. They both flinched.

“So, the weather’s perfect?” Moody rasped suspiciously, displeased it made them break apart.

“It is,” she grinned, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Perfect for staying in bed the whole day!” She rolled over onto her back, drawing him along.

He laughed, doing justice to her successful attempt to outwit him.

“And what do we do then?” quite aware of her answer, he asked suggestively, looming over her.

Her arms wrapped around his nape, she pulled him closer, forcing him to press her to bed with the weight of his body. “Proceed with what we started last night?”

“I thought we left no unfinished business,” he whispered teasingly into her ear, slowly covering her neck with soft kisses, and she let out a sigh of enjoyment.

Fingers tangled into his hair, she held him close, guiding him up to face her. “You sure?”

“Well, I guess, there might be a few more different ways to do this,” he mumbled into her mouth before their lips merged together.

His grip tightened, and she gasped in desperate anticipation.

If this was a dream, “Mad-Eye” Moody wished he would never wake up.

Imagine having a date with Alastor Moody

!! I (sadly) don't own the Harry Potter universe or Alastor. And I do not support jkr !!

Infos : GN reader, basically just fluff

- You had to convince him to have a real date with you. Because he still doesn't trust that you truly love him. He thought that you were too sweet for an old war dog like him.

- But finally he accepted ONE DATE.

- You wanted something special. Just between the two of you. Not a stupid restaurant, you didn't even think of a concert or something involving a crowd.

- But one day you found the perfect idea. A casual dinner at your place. You lived in the countryside so you'll be able to admired the stars in the sky after that. And you were a great cook.

- You protected your property with even more spells to reassure him.

- When he arrived, everything was set. You had made the dinner and prepared some things to drink and to eat before that.

- He was handsome, putting a little more effort on his look. You did too, to impress him.

- Alastor even brings you flowers, which maked you blush. You haven't imagined him doing something like that for you. And you absolutely loved it.

- The night was perfect. The conversation was fluid, the food was good (he complimented it).

- It was already night when dessert time arrived. So you guided him in the garden to sat on a soft blanket on the ground.

- He sat, and you sat right next to him. The two of you ate a piece of cake without saying anything. You were looking at the beautiful starry sky.

- When you finished, you laid your head on his shoulder. "I really liked this night Alastor..."

"Mh. Me too" he mumbled. His usual harsh voice couldn't mask his sweetness.

"Do you want to make this night perfect for me ?" His silence encouraged you to continue. "It'll be perfect if you kiss me..."

When you felt him moving, you were afraid that you've messed everything up.

But he turned towards you and bent to gently kiss you lips.

You could've cried just because how good it felt. When he stepped aside, he gently caressed your cheeks.

"I love you Alastor..."

"Me too love... Me too"

- You spent the next hour to gently make out. Alastor were so tender with you. It felt like paradise.

What a perfect date for you two.