#NOT very detailed nothing researched just vibes

[dragonbored]

hmmm. 4am azug hero forge figurine

[little-mouse-adventures]

A Timeline of Events in the Artemis Fowl Series

If anyone's interested, I did do an actual analysis for where I pulled some of these dates from. But because I cannot type succinctly to save my life, it's 5,000 words long, so that's below the cut. I also put the timeline there again, but in three separate images, so hopefully they load well enough to be fully legible if the above isn't.

A thousand thanks to @sadbitchapologist and @zahnie for their help and advice with this, despite neither of them having any more than the barest interest in the series and therefore having no clue what I was on about. Thanks also to @orangerosebush for fielding completely out-of-the-blue questions about the French school system, so I didn't have to attempt to navigate web search results to figure out what mandatory gym classes were like for the sole purpose of plotting Luc's birthday on here.

An Analysis of the Timelines in the Artemis Fowl Series

A Brief Introduction

The Artemis Fowl series is made up of eight books covering a range of years and events. I wanted to see how accurate the timelines present in the books were, as well as try and plot out some other details implied in the novels but not explicitly stated, to have a better understanding of the overall world-building. To that end, I went through the series and made the above timeline. I colour-coded it based on the relevance of the specific items to certain categories, namely Humans, Fairies, Villains, and the Series itself. This does mean that some things could have fit into multiple categories. For instance, you will see some items involving Opal categorized as Fairy-Specific (such as her college years, as those are fairly neutral to the main plot or her villainy), Villain-Specific (such as her setting up her emergency fund, as that is mostly related to her schemes as opposed to relevant to her existence as a fairy, or part of the main plot of the series), and Plot-Specific (such as her opening the Berserker Gate, the primary plot point for the final book).

Before we really delve into things though, we should establish the baseline assumptions I was working with. Firstly, I am only using the original series. I have not used anything written in The Fowl Twins trilogy, given that those books seem to ret-con a considerable amount of the original information, and that is far too many headaches to give myself. Any supplemental series information, such as the short stories found in The Artemis Fowl Files, or anything from interviews is also not included. The premise here is: using just the original books, what is the event timeline of the world? The second thing we need to establish is that I am using the North American releases of the novels. I did make notes on where each bit of information comes from, but there isn’t really a citation style for this kind of thing, so I’m not sure how relevant that is. The third assumption is that the first book takes place the year it was originally published. According to my copy, the original publication was 2001, with the first American paperback edition coming out in 2002, and the first mass market paperback being released in 2003. This means our starting point is in 2001.

For sake of clarity, this analysis will start with setting the dates of the books and continue on from there.

The Basics of The Books

With that out of the way, let’s talk about the first book, Artemis Fowl (AF). It is actually not until the very end of the book that we get a solid answer for when it takes place. It’s only in the last few pages of the novel that Angeline Fowl leaves her attic room after all the plot points are tied up and announces that it is Christmas Day. This might be cause for concern – Angeline had not previously been established as a particularly reliable narrator – but given that we are asked to believe that Holly’s ‘feel better’ mood booster worked, and that neither Butler nor Artemis balk at or question the pronouncement that is Christmas Day, we’ll accept that it’s true and move on. This means that, with Butler’s earlier announcement that he was stuck doing four months of stakeout, we can say with a fair amount of certainty that Artemis obtained and translated the Fairy Book in September 2001, and managed to capture a fairy in December of the same year.

Moving on to Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident (TAI), we are given a decent chunk of information, albeit spread out a bit. The first is the announcement that the ransom drop for Artemis Fowl I is to be held on the fourteenth. The fourteenth of what, you might ask? Well, we are told that Artemis is currently thirteen years old. Clearly, things are past September 1, 2002 (we know Artemis’s birthday is September 1 based on information in both the fifth and seventh books). We are also told that Luc Carrere has been trading with the goblins for six months, starting in July. That puts us in either December or January, but we can narrow it down further since Artemis gives us another helpful clue. He mentions they are not expecting to see the dawn while attempting to rescue his father in the Arctic. There are only a few latitudes on Earth where polar night (of any type) occurs, and at Murmansk, polar twilight occurs between December 10 – January 2. Combining all of this, we learn that TAI takes place December 14, 2002, give or take a few days to either side.

This can be corroborated by information in Book 3, Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code (TEC). After Holly heals Artemis Senior, we are told that it takes over two months for him to wake up. Since we are specifically told two months, as opposed to two and a half or three, we can conclude that the events of TEC take place in March 2003. Mulch gives us some information that confirms this. He was living in LA “less than four months ago,” and since he was conscripted to help with the events of TAI in December, a March plotline fits the bill. We are given further confirmation as well: Spiro mentions that Artemis will be fourteen in six months. A specific date for Artemis & Co.’s attack on Spiro’s Needle can be pulled from the throw-away line that Pex and Chips are “burying” Mulch on the full moon. A quick web search tells us that the full moon in March of 2003 takes place on March 14, and the rest of the events in the novel take place roughly two days to either side of that.

In Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception (TOD), the fourth book in the series, we are given several very clear indications of when the events take place. Firstly, Artemis is contemplating that at fourteen years and three months old, he is the youngest person to successfully obtain The Fairy Thief. Based on previously noted details that his birthday is in September, the events of TOD must take place in December of 2003. Additionally, we are told that things are the middle of winter and Opal has been in a coma for eleven months and counting as of the end of TAI, another December plot.

Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony (TLC) requires the most math and interpretation so far to figure out when it takes place. We know Artemis is still fourteen, so the main events clearly happen sometime between January 2004 and September 2004. Beyond that, we are using a fair amount of context clues. Artemis and Butler have evidently been traveling for four months looking for demons, so we are dealing with events in at least May. But that still leaves us several summertime months to work with, so to establish a timeline here, we will need to look forward a bit. In the sixth book, Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox (TTP), it’s noted that Artemis is not yet fifteen, and has, on multiple occasions, spent the full moon in the study. Ergo, he’s spent at least a few months back from Hybras. If he has been back for two months and not yet turned fifteen, he would have had to have returned by July at the latest, and since he returns almost three years later than he leaves, we are looking at him returning in either May or June. This would have him disappearing to Hybras – and by extension, dealing with the earlier events in the book – in June, July, or August. After his conversation with Minerva, he notes to Butler that they “are planning a June wedding,” which wouldn’t make sense to say if they were currently in the month of June. From all of this, we can extrapolate that the first three-quarters of TLC take place in late July or early August 2004, with the triumphant return of our intrepid heroes occurring in June 2007.

As previously stated, TTP mentions that Artemis is still not fifteen, but is nearly there. He has also been home again for at least two months. This would put the events of the sixth book in August 2007. At least, the events set in the current time period. TTP does bring back time travel, and with it some problems. We are told that Artemis and Holly jump back nearly eight years to Artemis being ten and trying to fund searches for his missing father. This would put the events of the past in early 2000. However, other details presented regarding Artemis Senior’s disappearance, which we will discuss later, make that impossible. Artemis also admits, in TEC, that he was eleven when his father disappeared, not ten. If we take a bit of creative license with our interpretations and base the time-jump to the past on other presented information as opposed to the dates given in TTP, we can say that Holly and Artemis instead return to early 2001. This lines up with further details, such as the sinking of the Fowl Star (as calculated a few paragraphs down in this analysis) occurring in December of 2000, and the textual confirmation in TTP that it’s barely two months past that sinking when Artemis brokers the deal(s) regarding the silky sifaka lemur. Since, at the end of the day, the time jump impacts very little in the grand scheme of things, and the year 2001 actually fits in better with other textual evidence and events, that’s what I’m going with for this timeline.

The seventh book, Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex (TAC) gives us a very helpful base point! It takes place on Artemis’s fifteenth birthday, September 1. From our previous results on setting dates for book events, that would be September 1, 2007. The sections in which Butler and Juliet are fighting mesmerized wrestling fans and meeting up with Mulch are noted in the novel as happening “the day before,” which would fall on August 31, 2007.

Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian (TLG), the eighth and final book in the series, creates some problems. If we assume that Artemis starts receiving treatment for his Atlantis Complex immediately after diagnosis in TAC¸ that would put him receiving treatment in September 2007. We are told he is certified as cured after six months. Yet we are also told that the rest of the events of the book take place in the week or so leading up to the Christmas holidays. Everything so far has said that the Artemis Fowl series follows the current calendar, in which case there is no way that six months can fit between September 1, 2007 and December 25, 2007. However, the only reference to Christmas is in two lines noting that the Fowl parents were planning on holidaying with their children on a foreign beach. If we simply say that six months have passed, and they are instead planning on spending the Irish school system’s spring holidays in the French Riviera, everything else lines up much better. So that’s what I’ve done. This would also put the resurrection of Artemis, after the events of the book and a further six months have passed, at roughly September of 2008. There is a pleasing symmetry to Artemis being born and then re-born in September, though if you want to get really technical and say the events of TLG take place during the 2008 March full moon as Opal claims (as noted in another web search as March 28), a six-month wait time for the clone to grow would put the resurrection in October. Still, there is something to be said for having a boy’s ghost haunting a clone of himself close to All Hallows. Since it’s the last plot point of the series, you can choose which you’d like; it doesn’t have to lead to anything else after it.

Let’s Talk Timelines: The Beginning of the Line to The End of The 19th Century

Now that we have our baseline book time periods established, we can get into the math used to determine some of the events in the timeline above. Several events are easy; we are given specific dates for them. Turnball Root meets Leonor in 1938, Juliet wins the Miss Sugar Beet Fair beauty contest in 1999. Other things are based on some basic math, such as Artemis claiming his parents got married fourteen years prior to AF¸ putting that event in 1987.

The majority of the items on the above timeline, however, do take some mathematics, extrapolation, and interpretation to plot out. To try and keep everything organized, we’ll start at the far left of the timeline, and work our way forwards, looking at events oldest-to-newest to explain why they are where they are on the graph. I won’t be getting too in-depth on everything in the graph, since I’m not sure how relevant the notes on the very minor side characters such as Carla Frazetti are, but I’ll at least try to touch on some of the more relevant points.

To start with, the Battle of Taillte was noted in the 2000’s as being ten thousand years ago, putting that at 8000 BCE. Similarly, the last dome breach at Atlantis was apparently eight thousand years ago in the 2000’s, so that would be 6000 BCE. Troll sideshows were legal in the early middle ages, which implies they were not legal after that. A quick web search says the early middle ages ended around 1000. The first crusades were in 1096-1099, and as those crusades are the start point of the Butler-Fowl working relationship, a point for noting that comes next on the graph.

From there, we get into more modern – relatively speaking – events. Briar Cudgeon and Julius Root are noted as attending the LEP Academy together and being raised in the same tunnel, as well as having about 600 years of history together. If one assumes “being raised in the same tunnel” is similar to the human equivalent of “growing up in the same neighbourhood,” we can assume the two were born roughly 600 years ago, in the 1400’s. Vinyaya is portrayed as being of a similar age to Root, so her birth can also be put in the same general era. We are also told that Fowl Manor was originally a castle built in the fifteenth century, that in the early 2000’s the theories of timeline corruption were first introduced over five centuries ago, and that cloning has been banned for over five hundred years, so those three events are also tossed into the 1400’s.

Julius Root is noted as doing his LEP basic training 500 years ago in Ireland, so that would have to be in the 1500’s. He would have attended the Academy before then, putting that in the mid-to-late 1400’s. As previously stated, he was in the Academy with Cudgeon. Opal also met Cudgeon in college, and competed with Foaly for science prizes there, so they were all in school at the same time.

Mulch now enters the picture. We aren’t ever given a specific age range for him, but we are told about his career. He has, apparently, spent three centuries in and out of prison after a couple centuries of success as a thief. This would make him at least five hundred years old. There is a brief mention that he tried the athletic route at college before becoming a thief, so he would have to be an adult at that point, putting his age at roughly 550 years during the events of the series.

We then enter a period filled in from one-off lines throughout the series, presumably added to give some depth to the world. Things about the wine cellar at Fowl Manor being a seventeenth century addition, Captain Eusebius Fowl and his crew dying in the eighteenth century, and Mulch first faking his own death over two hundred years ago.

Time Marches On: The 20th Century

There is nothing of much relevance to linger on between the 1550’s and the 20th century, so we’ll jump ahead to the 1900’s, when we have Holly Short’s birthday. She is in her eighties during TLC, and her father died “over twenty years ago” when she was “barely sixty” as of TAI. Based on that, she would have been in her early eighties in 2002, putting her birthday sometime in the 1920’s. What a doll.

A few more birthdays now appear, and we’ll ignore, for the most part, some of the irrelevant ones. I don’t think we are at all concerned with Gaspard Paradizo’s birthday, or Mikhael Vassikin. We are, however, rather more interested in Jon Spiro, Domovoi Butler, and Artemis Fowl I.

Jon Spiro enters the series in TEC, as a middle-aged American. A quick search on the Internet says that middle age is generally noted as being between the ages of 40 to 60. We are told that Spiro has worked in three main industries over the past two and a half decades. Additionally, we are told that law enforcement has been “trying to put [him] away for thirty years.” If we assume he entered the working world at twenty, spent five years developing his professional self, and then started going down a path of questionable legality to get the police after him, that would put him at fifty-five in 2003, and born in the late 1940’s.

It was a bit easier to determine Domovoi Butler’s age, and we can get more specific with his actual birthday. We are told that he is forty at the start of TEC, and he is still forty during TOD. From that, we can assume his birthday is not between March – December, which means it has to be between January – March. Now, we can just leave things there, but contextually, Butler says in late March 2003 that “a lot of people know [him] as a forty-year old man.” Since I doubt he’s the kind of person who introduces himself by announcing that his birthday was last week, we can assume that his birthday is not in March. Since about half the books in the series take place in December, and there is never any mention of Butler’s birthday coming up soon, we can likely assume it isn’t in January. We can therefore conclude Butler was born in February, 40 years before 2003, which puts his birth year in 1963.

We then have Artemis Fowl I. This one took the most extrapolation to determine. We know he has run an ethical empire for a few years as of 2007, which coincides with his return to his family after being kidnapped by the Mafia. He apparently ran a successful criminal empire for two decades before that, though, so in 2007 he has been working for at least 25 years. Based on the interactions he had with his own son, I’ve assumed he was also taught to take over the family business from a young age. If he started working at his age of majority at 18 (as possible in the 1980’s in Ireland, based on a web search), we can assume he was born in roughly the mid 60’s.

Billy Kong, born Jonah Lee, is one to touch on. He plays a large role in TLC, during which we are given possibly the most backstory of any villain in the series. He was evidently born in the early 1970’s, and was eight years old in the early 1980’s. Mathematically, that can only lend itself to so many birth years, so it’s easy enough to put his birthdate somewhere in 1973, and his brother’s death date in 1981.

While we’re here, let’s talk about the 1980’s. A lot of things happen in the 80’s, so we’ll be here for a few paragraphs. Butler would have graduated Madam Ko’s Academy in the early ‘80s, Artemis I would have started working in his family’s business and stolen some warrior mummies (of note, the theft is only noted as being in Artemis Sr.’s “gangster days,” but if you are a young, rich criminal, you’d likely commit a wild theft in your early years as opposed to your thirties, which is why this is put in here). Additionally, in the mid 1980’s, Holly graduates the LEP Academy and her mother dies, as noted in TTP when she is contemplating missing three years of her friends lives.

Butler would have started his five-year stint in Russia with an espionage unit in the mid-to-late 80’s, and become a big brother in 1985. Juliet is noted at being four years older than Artemis in AF in 2001, and he is twelve then, making her sixteen at the time. We can extrapolate the month from TEC, wherein she is apparently eighteen when she is called regarding her brother’s apparent death. At the time, we are told what gifts she received for her birthday, implying it was fairly recent. Additionally, Artemis was only thirteen at that time, which would make Juliet five years older than Artemis. If, however, we trust that acolytes at Madam Ko’s start their training on their tenth birthday and get one chance to graduate per year, it would make sense for that one chance to be on their birthday, or within a day or two to allow for as much training time as possible. Since Juliet was in the midst of this one graduation evaluation when she gets the phone call and joins the crew for the March heist at Spiro’s Needle, she’d have to be born in March. (We can also corroborate this with some details from AF: if AF  takes place in mid-September, that would be just after Artemis’s birthday, which puts the 4-year age difference back into play.)

Spelltropy begins for the People in 1987, if it appeared 20 years ago from 2007. Artemis I and Angeline Fowl would get married in 1987. They would have their first child, Artemis Fowl II, in 1989, as calculated by Artemis being twelve during the initial siege of the Manor in December 2001. Artemis II’s grandfather was noted as having been dead for over ten years at that point, and it was mentioned in TEC that Angeline married her husband before he really took over the family business, so those events would likely happen when Artemis was but a baby in 1990.

The ‘90s are a period where a lot of things are happening, but few are particularly important. Spelltropy has a cure found, Minerva Paradizo is born, Juliet begins her bodyguard training and her brother refuses to let her shave her hair. These, and other events in the 90’s, are mostly calculated by math along the lines of “Event A happened X number of years ago,” but since the 90’s was mostly a time of worldbuilding events rather than plot events, we’ll just skim over the specific details.

‘You Are Here’: The 21st Century, and Where The Storytelling Begins

Welcome to the 2000’s! The kick-off point of not only the 2000’s, but also the entire series, is the sinking of the Fowl Star. We aren’t given a specific date for this, but we are given enough information to extrapolate the date. Specifically, in September 2001, in AF, we are told Fowl Sr. has been missing for almost a year. In TAI, in December, we are told he has been missing for almost two years. That does have the potential to have the ship go down in either December or January, so we need to use a bit more details from TAI to make a final determination. Mikhael Vassikin and Kamar were told to dump Fowl’s body in the Kola if he didn’t wake up in “another year,” so they’ve been looking after him for one at that point. Fowl Sr. wakes up two weeks before the deadline, and as noted earlier, the ransom drop for him takes place December 14, after he has been awake for perhaps a week. From that, we can tell that the deadline for “another year” was mid to late December, putting the initial sinking of the Fowl Star in late 2000.

The analysis gets a bit confusing at this point, because 2001 is when future Artemis and Holly join the party via time travel, as well as having their regular selves in the timestream. Essentially, we’ve established the timeline for the events of TTP above, so we know the whole lemur fiasco takes place in March 2001. Artemis wakes up at the end of that book thinking about fairies, which ties in rather neatly to him then dragging Butler across three continents for six false alarms (with an assumed approximate 3 weeks between each jaunt) before striking metaphorical gold in Ho Chi Minh City in September. During their time-traveling, Holly also gets a chance to talk to Root, who wonders why she isn’t in Hamburg, which was noted in AF as Holly’s first major failure as a Recon officer and was nearly preceding the events of AF. The time-traveling would also mean that Opal would have had to harvest her DNA for future diabolical plans before March 2001, when her younger self travels to the future. Since it takes up to two years to grow a clone to adulthood, and her clone has to be ready in September 2003, we are a few months off in the time requirements, but really, for a practice that’s been outlawed for 500 years, I can offer a bit of leeway.

We are now well and truly in the thick of the main events of the series. Most of this will be tied into the initial assessments we made way at the beginning of this essay, where we established when each book occurs. Because of this, we aren’t going to spend time on anything plot-related. However, a brief note on Turnball Root and Artemis’s Atlantis Complex is likely in order. Artemis was, as previously stated, dealing with his return from Hybras and the after-effects of stealing magic during July and August of 2007. His Atlantis Complex, and Turnball Root’s plan to escape the Deeps prison, are in full swing in September of that year. We have a brief note in TAC during the evacuation of Atlantis, that Turnball had, a month before, spied on Artemis and noted his Atlantis Complex developing. Therefore, Artemis’s Complex likely came into play in late July or early August 2007. This is close enough to Artemis’s magic theft to make sense for the deterioration of his mental health, and enough time for Butler to have started to notice something was wrong, as he did. We can therefore assume that Atlantis Complex, at least in the case of magic-stealing humans who have a propensity for time travel and getting involved in supremely complicated and improbable plots, develops relatively quickly.

This leaves just one major discussion point from the last few books: the age of Artemis’s twin brothers, Beckett and Myles. The twins are first introduced at the very end of TLC. They are written as being two during the events of TTP, three during the events of TAC, and four during the events of TLG. Regardless of the time-traveling shenanigans of their elder brother, it is impossible for the twins to age two years in the eight months between Artemis’s return from Hybras in June 2007 and the finale of the series in March of 2008, so we need to look at what makes sense.

Myles has already potty-trained himself, and done so at fourteen months, so they must be at least that old. Their other behaviours would make sense for them to be two in TTP. Diapers are still a part of their lives, and their language and vocabulary fit what a two-year-old would have, at least in Beckett’s case. Since Artemis was surprised by their existence, it doesn’t seem likely that  Angeline would have known she was pregnant, or at least not have told Artemis yet, when he went to Limbo. Ergo, they can’t be any older than two, since (one would hope) Artemis would have noticed his mother’s pregnancy if the twins were any older.

Additionally, in TLG, we know Artemis gave his brother a birthday present, so he had to have been around during the twin’s birthday at least once. With this fact, the twins cannot be born between March – June, which just leaves the question of when are the twins born?

 The most logical answer is February 2005. If Angeline was early on in her pregnancy, say six weeks (which is when most women start noticing symptoms), when Artemis disappeared in July 2004, she wouldn’t necessarily have told him yet. Then, if we assume that since most twin births occur around the 35-week mark, that would math out to having the twins be born in February of 2005. Fast forward, and they would turn one in February 2006, and two in February 2007, which puts them at the correct age for the events of TTP. [One could argue, of course, that a twin pregnancy in an older woman (unfortunately, there is nothing in the series to indicate Angeline’s age) and in a woman already dealing with significant stress could result in a very premature birth, thereby voiding any of this math and leaving the whole question of the twin’s birthday unanswered. However, since I’d rather not subject the Fowl parents to the strife and misery of having one son missing and presumed dead, and their younger children in the NICU with a low survival rate, I’m working with the assumption that the pregnancy was a healthy and normal one.]

The brief comment from Juliet in TAC about the twins being three can be passed off by them being a little over two-and-a-half and Juliet not being around as she is touring in Mexico. By the time TLG takes place, in March of 2008, the twins would have had their third birthday, allowing for Artemis to give Myles his chair as a birthday present, Beckett to be old enough to no longer need diapers, and the behaviours to act more like children than infants. While this doesn’t quite allow for the repeated textual confirmations in TLG that the twins are four, we’ll go with what mathematically makes sense.

That brings us to the end of the timeline! Not everything is touched on in the timeline, and not everything in the books is plotted (we are never given enough context to know Foaly’s or Opal’s birthdates, for instance). But the main events of the Artemis Fowl series are all analyzed, mathematically or logically or textually corroborated, and plotted out, for use or ignoring as personal preference dictates.

[dontexpectmuch]

rúben dias x reader

summary; you always see him when you step out of your apartment in the early hours of the morning, the two of you greeting each other with your eyes before you move on with your day. there has never been a reason to talk to him; until you run out of sugar and are about to have a mental breakdown. the girly way.

part one! [part two]

**

sometimes you hated yourself for being so passionate about your work field. there was nothing wrong with being passionate about what you do with your life per se, however having to get up at 4:30 in the morning made something inside you die each day.

who in their right mind would ever do that to themselves?

your family and friends around you always [affectionately] called you a psychopath because of it, and sometimes you agree with them. starting your day so early til the late evening would take a toll on you at times, you couldn’t lie. though, what else are you supposed to do with your life?

living in manchester, close to university labs and other great laboratories was a privilege for someone in your field. your work required loads of attention and detailed research, taking up most of your time. it’s not like you had someone at home waiting for you anyway. forcing yourself out of your bed and getting ready was the norm, you quickly became used to your routine and did everything according to a certain standard. looking at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth, you are met with a pair of tired eyes.

just as you are about to spit out the rest of the toothpaste, you hear the alarm of the flat next to you go off, meaning it was 5:00 already.

your neighbor was also out of their mind, apparently.

he always gets up early in the morning, does his routine and leaves his home at the same time as you do. he however, compared to you, looked always fresh and dedicated, no trace of sleepiness on his masculine features.

finishing your morning routine, you quickly get dressed, take your ginger shots and eat some food before putting on your shoes. with one last look behind you to check yourself in the mirror, you open the door.

not even a second later, the door opposite to you also opened, your tall neighbor stepping out of his flat, bag on his shoulder and hair styled.

how did he manage to always wear such nice outfits? you find yourself asking as you greet him with a tired smile.

you close your door behind you and move your tired legs to the elevator, pressing the button as you readjust your bag on your shoulders. today would be a tiring day, you can just tell.

your neighbor stands a meter behind you, his intense perfume invading your senses. even though the two of you get up quite early, he seemed very energetic, almost as if he could run around a field all day long with no feeling of being tired.

the sound of the elevator arriving pulls you out of your thoughts, stepping inside as your eyes follow your neighbors hands. he always presses the button, never once letting you have the chance to do so yourself. not that you are complaining.

as soon as you arrive at the entrance, he quickly walks out the elevator, a small and breathy ‘bye’ leaving his lips as his long legs carry him to the garage.

“bye.” you say to no one particular, moving forward to get to the train station.

it definitely is too early.

——

“that’s a lot of sugar.” you mumble to yourself as you read the instructions on the paper.

the light in your kitchen is dimmed down, soft rnb music playing in the background and candles lit around your flat just created a certain vibe that you desperately need right now.

work has been harder than usual today, testing you and your mental capacity in very unique and challenging ways. thankfully, you have been able to come home a bit earlier, granting you enough time to bake yourself some delicious cookies as a treat. what you forgot, however, was that you still need to go grocery shopping, your fridge a clear evidence for that.

you search your cupboards for some sugar, eyes scanning each product with practiced ease. your shoulders sink in despair when you fail to detect it, your head pounding and feet getting cold.

“fuckin’…” you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself, but the pounding of your head and your rapid pulse hinder you from actually calming down.

looking at the clock above the door, you see that it is way too late to go out and buy some sugar, knowing that it would get too late to come home, bake the cookies, get enough sleep and what not. you try to think of what else you could do, when suddenly you hear some noise from your neighbors flat. it wasn’t loud, yet it came so unexpected that it pulled you out of your racing mind, making you calm down a bit better now.

so you do what anyone else would do, you decide to ask you neighbor for some sugar, not a big deal.

yeah, no biggie, at all.

now, standing in front of his door as you try to internally hype yourself up, you wish that you just went grocery shopping yesterday. because then, you wouldn’t have to stand here with your measuring cup in your hand, looking at the black door.

‘dias’ it says on the bell’s button.

taking one last deep breath, you move your cold hand towards the door, gently knocking against it. no going back now.

it didn’t take longer than ten seconds for the door to open, and you are immediately met with the sight if your neighbor in his evening clothes, messy hair and phone at hand.

his eyes are wide as he looks at you, somewhat surprised to see you standing there. you, too, are surprised by all of this, however you were here on a mission. no time for distractions.

you clean your throat, “hey, sorry for bothering you-“

“you don’t.” he immediately responds, voice deep laced with an accent.

you smile at him, which he returns. he steps closer to you, now resting his upper body against the doorframe.

“i was baking some cookies and didn’t realize that i ran out of sugar. could you perhaps lend me some?”

holding the measuring cup up to show him, dias immediately nods and gently takes the cup out of your hands, “give me a second.” is all he says before he disappears into his flat, front door still open for you to take a peak inside.

even though you can’t see a lot, even his doorway looked quite nice and clean, shoe rack full of different types of shoes. he even had a plant there, something that even you don’t own.

“here you go.” he appears again, smiling softly at you as he holds the cup for you to take.

returning his smile, you thank him, “thanks, eh..”

“rúben.”

“thanks, rúben! i’ll bring some cookies over as soon as they’re finished.” you tell him, smiling one last time before going back to your flat.

“see you.” is all you hear before he closes his door, and you immediately go back to your kitchen to finish what you started.

time passes by and an hour later you finish the cookies. your body finally relaxes, no trace of that stress you felt today at work present. the kitchen smells heavenly and your mouth waters as you take your first bite of the cookie.

looking at the time, you see that it is barley past nine, not too late to give rúben some of the cookies as a thank you. so, you put some of them in to a plate and once again leave your home to knock on his door.

you didn’t understand why, but suddenly your mind goes blank and your heart beats faster again, cold sweat spreading across your back. was it because you cared about what he thought of your baking? maybe you were getting sick due to all the stress you had throughout the day, and this was your final sign to take a break from work.

your worries wash away when rúben once again opens his door, looking the same as from an hour ago.

this time, his smile reaches his eyes when he sees you standing there, holding a plate with delicious looking cookies on it.

“delivery.” you say, smiling at him.

he didn’t look as mean and intimidating as he usually does in the morning. this whole ‘homebody’ look casts a whole new light on him, changing the previous thoughts you had about him.

rúben chuckles at your word, “well, well, would you look at that.”

his thick accent sends a shiver down your spine, his deep and honey like voice a nice change from what you were usually accustomed to when hearing a male voice.

“i hope you like them, rúben.” you hand him the plate, looking at his eyes, “thanks again for the sugar, really saved my evening.”

rúben laughs as he takes the plate, waving his hand at your statement, “it was nothing, really. thank you for the cookies, i look forward to eat them.”

nodding at his words, you look down as you smile to yourself, “well, have a-“

“do you want to eat them together?” he interrupted you, big brown eyes looking at you intensely.

oh, well.

“i don’t want to disturb your evening, though.” you tell him your thoughts.

or maybe it is because you don’t trust yourself to have the mental capacity right now. well, you tend to enjoy your alone time a lot, and spending your evening with your neighbor who practically is a stranger wasn’t exactly on your radar.

“no, really,” rúben begins, opening his door wide to welcome you in. as you step in, he continues, “as neighbors, we have to get to know each other. we both live alone, when something happens we are the closest to each other to help.” he reasons. and he was right, you think to yourself.

your parents live outside of manchester, your friends on the other side of town. if something were ever to happen, having rúben close would be the most important thing for you.

nodding, you take off your shoes and follow him to the big living room, “you’re right. i never thought about what might happen if no one could come in time.”

rúben brightly smiles at you as he places the plate onto his coffee table in front of the couch. as your eyes wander around the living room, you once again notice how clean and organized his home looks. not a single thing out of place, compared to this, your home looks like a battlefield. his flat was definitely bigger than yours as well, though his kitchen and living room were connected, whereas you had a separate room for your kitchen. his walls were decorated with some pictures, and you could even see a guitar leaning against the wall in a corner.

"here, ginger tea does wonders to one's body." rúben leans down to place a cup of tea in front of you, his perfume hitting your nose.

"thanks." you smike at him as you watch him take a seat on the couch next to you, respectable distance between you two.

he takes a sip from his tea before looking at you, his eyes shining under the dim lights, “how long have you been living here?”

“hm,” you begin as you try to think of a concrete date, not so sure yourself, “well, i moved here after i got my job at the university, even though it wasn’t the cheapest, it was still the closest to work and best offer i got considering how big the flat is.” you explain, grabbing a cookie as you shoot the same question back at him.

“i also work in manchester,” rúben begins, his voice deep. he leans back against the couch, his left arm now resting on top of the back, “but this is my second flat. my first one was too unsafe, considering that everyone could just enter the building.”

you nod, “yes, that was also quite important to me when i moved here.”

he smiled as he told you a bit more about his first flat and how different it was living in his old neighborhood compared to now. without noticing, you two fell into a comfortable conversation, jumping from topic to topic as the two of you had loads to tell. rúben talked a lot more than you, but that was only because you enjoyed listening to his stories, his accent also made it a lot more enjoyable.

time moved on quickly, and when your eyes catch a glimpse of the digital clock on his wall, they widen in disbelief.

“oh, fuck, i have to go.” you tell him, getting up take your cup and the empty plate to the kitchen.

rúben follows you, placing his own cup into the sink as you now move on to out on your shoes.

“thank you so much, rúben.” you say as he opens the door for you, watching you step out as he now leans against his doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, “it was genuinely nice to get to know you.”

he smiles at you words, “thank you, too. the cookies were amazing. i’ll bring the plate back as soon as it’s clean.” he lets you know.

you walk backwards to your door, pulling out your keys, “no rush, it’s not like you have a long way to deliver it anyway.”

“you’re right.”

“soo, i’ll see you in a few?” you ask him, opening your door and stepping inside.

he nods, “in a few.”

“okay, good night, rúben.”

“good night.”

—————————————————

tadaaaaa

just a drabble but i think we can work with this quite well. whatcha think? let me know!!!

bb

[yeoldenews]

hello! i was wondering if you (or any blogs you think might know?) had any resources for edwardian fashion, more precisely edwardian teen fashion? i'm writing a story centering on two edwardian ghosts and would like help on their style of speech as well if you can't help on the fashion aspects. thank you!

In my opinion, if you want to be able to portray the authentic feel of a time period, there is nothing better than diving head first into primary sources.

Whenever I start any large research/writing project that’s centered on a particular year, I usually spend at least a couple of days just immersing myself in the era.

We live in an extraordinary age when it comes to primary source research (especially for the early 20th century) - there are literally millions of period newspapers/books/magazines/films/recordings floating around online.

Find out what books were popular and check them out! Read the newspaper! Listen to popular music! Watch silent movies or newsreels!

For teenagers, school yearbooks are a particularly great source to get an idea of how young people spoke, their senses of humor, common slang, casual fashion, as well as the daily routines and general vibes of the time period. Most universities have their yearbooks digitized and available online and can be pretty easily found on google (try searching: [year] [location if desired] yearbook digital collections).

As for fashion - there are so many great fashion history tumblrs, that it’s pretty hard to go wrong if you just explore the “Edwardian” or “1900s” tag a bit. One thing to keep in mind though - most dresses that end up in museums were owned by very, very rich individuals. So, though a great place to start, scrolling through blogs full of museum pieces to learn about fashion history is roughly the equivalent of learning about modern fashion by only watching Chanel runway shows.

By the Edwardian era most young people were wearing pretty much the same thing as adults by the age of 14/15. You were, however, starting to see the very beginning of what would become the modern “juniors’ section” - usually termed “Misses’” for girls and “young men’s” or “collegiate” for boys. Here are a few examples of this can be seen in period catalogs from 1912, 1911 (starting on page 21) and 1908. 

It’s also important to keep in mind that fashion changed much, much more quickly than it does now. A woman in 1906 and a woman in 1911 would have noticeably different styles and silhouettes. I'd recommend scrolling through some fashion plates (going to shout out chic-a-gigot here who has a great collection of French fashion plates organized by decade and year) to get a basic handle on how the silhouette changed year by year.

In my past life I was fashion history specialist for high-end auctions, so I could go on in A LOT more detail about this subject, but I'm going to end it here before this gets too long.

[doin-just-fine]

MAJOR UPDATE: Questioning systems or systems in a doubt spiral pls read.

I recently told my therapist about potentially being a system. This was a scary move because she has previously had some iffy takes about systemhood. But I told her because I trusted that she would meet me where I was at and help me navigate , at the least, the general idea of not understanding my own brain if nothing else which I was ok with. I told her and it went as expected. I explained why I thought I might be a system but also the doubts I had about it and how it was distressing me to not understand myself. She agreed to use the language I was using for it and was happy to help me through (as is her job) and also because whether it was systemhood or not it was something in me that was trying to be seen and we would work on figuring out what it was.

Fast forward a few session, and I was going through another bout of "what the fuck even is my brain". I was starting to realize that my "systemhood" is very different from the things I've been seeing online. In the ways that it's different to other systems is: - I'm always in the front, always in the captains chair - I have no amnesia because I never switch out - My hyper-vigilance never lets me dissociate fully though i definitely "check out" in my own way - Head mates just feel like vague ideas or emotions

But the ways that are similar are: - These vague ideas or emotions have opinions and feelings that are different from my own. - Though they are vague, I can definitely tell they are separate from what I have come to understand as "me" - I become "a different person" in the sense of my attitude, vibe, behavior, and opinions change from where they were 5 mins ago, but I am still me, just a different me.

Anyway, I was already trying to make sense of all of this and was not planning on talking about it with my therapist because nervous... However, my therapist ask me about it first. She asked some clarifying questions about my partners system vs my own and how they are different. When I explained what I just wrote above to my therapist she said "Thats what I thought and I owe you an apology."

Basically, my therapist, like any good therapist should when confronted by something they don't know a lot about, had been doing research on complex forms of trauma and coping. Things in the same vain as CPTSD and Plurality including those two topics. She had specifically been reading a book called "The Body Keeps The Score" (TW it is a book about trauma and studies of trauma so it has details of case studies that some people may find incredibly triggering). I did some research on what exactly the book was talking about in regards to "systemhood" and from what I've found, chapter 14 at the end of a section called "Writing to yourself" and the first parts of chapter 17 have interesting information regarding systemhood and how its not entirely limited to things that are diagnosable like DID or OSDD. It seems to talk about how we all have several selves and trauma can get in the way of those selves communicating effectively. My therapist told me about this book and what she learned from it and apologized to me because the book made her realize that she was wrong and that I was in fact a system....

The session ended and I just kind of sat there... not sure how to feel but definitely feeling relief and validation.

After doing research on the book to write this I have some words of wisdom. If you are a questioning system or are doubting your validity remember this: The human brain is so incredibly complex and no one actually understands how it does anything beyond its basic physical functionality... the conceptual abilities of our mind are a mystery. How we define self is just theory. If you don't fit into boxes, labels, identities, or diagnoses that does not mean your experiences aren't real. You are going to be ok. Understand YOUR mind and how it works for YOU, not through a label or diagnosis. If those things come later, great! Do not let them destroy you just because you don’t fit perfectly. I am a system. Simply. No types, labels, or diagnosis. I am a system. I have a unique experience because my brain is no one elses. I am a system. I may not have people in my head in the traditional sense but I'm also not alone up here either. I am a system. I am a system. I am a system. Nobody has the right to deny me this for they do not live behind my eyes.

As I understand myself: I am a system.

[deandoesthingstome]

Gothic Fantasy

Pairing: Vampire!August x Reader

Summary: Are you in over your head, little girl?

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, exhibitionism, oral sex (m and f receiving), spanking, p in v (doggy style), anal toy/anal sex, dom!August, Sir and princess, monster fucking (which involves at least one bite, right?).

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

You took your time with a little extra research, but the ancient myth vibe of the story you created out of your experience with Sy was a hit and your werewolf!boyfriend tale had been picking up steam thanks to the upcoming holiday. Subscriptions were rolling in which left you both excited and anxious. 

sendmeanangel: i have enough to cover at least two more stays even if nothing more comes in at this point MNstrluvr: how could nothing more come in?  sendmeanangel: look, i’m having a great time, but at some point in my life i should probably stop paying for monster sex and get a boyfriend, right? darkgothnightengale: that time doesn’t have to be right now. Besides, how will you ever go back to some regular guy? sendmeanangel: very funny. This can’t be a sustainable way to go through life. I just worry people will start feeling like they are owed new monster fucking tales every week because they subscribed to read the ones already out there. I don’t want to let people down or make them think they got played somehow MNstrluvr: what if when you get to the point where you think you're through, you make that clear to any new subscribers? And just because you aren’t fucking a new monster at the hotel every week doesn’t mean you can’t keep writing amazing stories that your followers will love darkgothnightengale: you can write whatever you want when you want. There’s nothing on the site that promises content on any kind of consistent basis and people can always stop subscribing if they feel cheated, which is stupid because they are still getting quality content. you have a voice that people like to read. It doesn’t have to be about shapeshifters or vampires sendmeanangel: speaking of which MNstrluvr: YES!!! I’m so glad you decided to try him next. I cannot wait. He looks so fucking hot sendmeanangel: yeah, well walter continues to be completely booked. besides, they all look fucking hot lol MNstrluvr: there’s just something even more dangerous in his eyes. He looks totally unhinged. In a good way. darkgothnightengale: the best way sendmeanangel: you guys are crazy

“It's lovely to see you again. Thank you for signing the T&C online this time. I hope you had a chance to look through the extra restrictions on this room. It's very important that they are adhered to.”

Were you being called out? Did the hotel somehow know your two previous hosts had broken rules for you? Hopefully no one was getting into trouble.

“We simply don't want any mishaps,” as if in answer to the questions swirling in your mind. Though it still didn't tell you if they knew.

The desk clerk handed you another heavy iron key. Where the mechanism to open the forest room last month had been fairly plain and rustic, this one was filled with intricate lacy patterns. You wanted to snap a picture of the antique gothic skeleton key and send it to your online friends but decided it might be too much like bragging. After all, this would be the third fantasy visit they'd talked you into. Not that you needed much prodding anymore. That they couldn't partake in reality was making you feel bad, no matter how happy for you your friends said they were.

You made your way down the hall after exiting the elevator and stopped before the heavy wooden arched door full of intricately carved details that matched the key in your hand. The room was dark when you stepped in, but before you could reach for a light switch, a deep voice spoke from across the room, sending a cold shiver down your spine.

"You're late."

"I only just checked in."

"And no apology, I see. It's five after. We were to start on the hour. I assumed that was clear, but maybe I'll need to remind you of the importance of punctuality during our time together."

A finger snap sounded from the place in the dark where you heard the voice and flames lit up a fireplace nearby. Your eyes were drawn there, hoping the glow of the flame would illuminate your host, but no one appeared. All you saw was the carved stone of the mantle and wrought iron candelabras filled with fat pillars that were lighting one by one as if by magic as well.

As the warm light began to bathe the room, you felt a rush of air behind you and heard the door to the room slam shut. You turned to see nothing again, though you heard the click of a lock.

"Did you at least come prepared?" the voice sounded near your ear, though again, no one was to be seen as you spun once more to face into the room.

"I did," you answered into the space in front of you, even as you peered left and right. Where the fuck was he?

“Right here,” he spoke from behind you again, and this time you could see as well as feel the hands that gripped your upper arms and held you tight against the solid form behind you. You glanced at the fingers curled around your biceps and licked your lips, thinking of where you’d rather have them. Caressing your face. Around your throat. Thrust deep inside…”Before we get there, I believe you owe me an apology.”

And now you had a choice. How would that apology go? Remain standing like an insolent brat or kneel to the man you wanted to dominate you this evening? Not that he wouldn’t dominate the brat as well, but maybe you didn’t need it to be so demanding this first time. His fingers loosened as you began to turn toward him but you sunk to your knees before you saw his face, so it wasn’t until you lifted your chin to plead forgiveness that you had the opportunity to drink him in.

He was dressed in sharp black pants with a crisp crease down the front of each leg. A neatly pressed black button up shirt with french cuffs and mother of pearl links sat behind a black silk brocade vest with mother of pearl buttons. In the light, you couldn’t tell for sure, but the pattern in the vest seemed to match the key as well. A blood-red silk tie paired with a handkerchief peeking from the front of his jet black jacket that set off his broad shoulders nicely and was buttoned at the right height to taper his waist.

But his face. You inhaled to keep yourself steady before you spoke the words requesting his forgiveness. The calming breath helped you take in more of his visage without fainting on the spot. 

His jawline was strong. And unlike the fuller beards of Walter or Sy, this man’s facial hair consisted of a five o’clock shadow and a neatly trimmed mustache. His dark hair was swept back to the side, though you could tell if he hadn’t styled it perfectly, the curl would take over. You’d love to see it sometime. Maybe even tonight.

What caught your breath in your throat was his piercing blue eyes and it took you a few moments to realize he was laughing at you. You had to fight to gain control from his mesmerizing gaze, but before you could ask him to repeat himself, he already was.

“I said," Apology accepted” and you can stand now, princess. Show me what you came with.” He helped you to stand, then drew his hand down your arm as he took a step back. He dropped your hand and motioned toward you before he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head as if to say “go ahead now.”

You took a deep breath, suddenly unsure if you’d made the right ensemble choice. Though it matched his outfit perfectly somehow, you were hesitant to bare so much to him so soon. But there was no turning back now. Well, of course there was, but you didn’t want to. At best, you could imagine excusing yourself to use the restroom and changing into a different outfit.

You undid the belt on your long, black trench coat, then popped the buttons one by one until you could open the flaps and shrug the coat off your shoulders and down your arms. You were about to let it drop to the floor, but something made you stop and hold the fabric in your hands at your sides.

“May I take your coat?” he asked like the gentleman he was portraying, holding out a hand and you reached it over to him, before smoothing your hands down the body of your black strapless gown, worrying away the non-existent wrinkles. A few blood-red rose embellishments nestled strategically into the delicate embroidery woven along the sheer black lace bodice of the dress, your bare skin visible only in the spots where no design was found. You released the clasps attaching the hem of the dress to the waist and allowed the full length of the black silk skirt to flow to the ground. It sported a trail of matching but larger floral adornments cascading in spiral from one hip across the front and down the other side. With the matching red silk pumps, you were a vision. You felt a rush of air and as you lifted your gaze from your dress back to him, your coat seemed to have disappeared, because it was no longer in his hands. And the look on his face told you you’d made the right choice.

“You look ravishing.” At his words of praise you forgot all about where your coat might have gotten off to.

“Is this okay?”

“If this is the attire you wished to begin in, then it’s perfect. We’ve already lost so much precious time with your late arrival.”

You stood silent, unsure if he was asking for another apology. It seemed like a bad idea to let him actually ask before you offered another, but your voice was stuck in your throat, so taken were you by his demeanor. It turned out you were wrong to wait.

“I don’t like to ask for apologies, but trust that I will whenever they are warranted. Hopefully, you’ll begin to know when you’ve crossed a line. I suppose technically, you have already apologized, so I won’t ask for another. This time.” At the admonishment, you dropped your gaze to the floor with embarrassment. “I also ask your forgiveness for my rudeness. So many lessons you’re learning already and you don’t even know my name yet. Allow me to correct that. My name is August Walker and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance finally.”

What did he mean by finally? Here, now, in this room when he finally shared his name and lifted your arm to kiss the back of your hand? Or had he heard stories about you too? 

“May I add something to your ensemble?” You could practically hear the subtle tilt of his head in question.

“Of course,” you replied, willing your nerves to allow you to look up at him again.

“It's only, well, you look so delicious. I'm afraid I'll need a reminder, or rather, a deterrent.” His hands raised, something appearing between his fingers as if from nowhere. You noticed a wide band of heavy black embroidered ribbon with metal clasps at each end. Your chin tilted almost involuntarily to allow him room to place the choker around your neck.

“You don’t want to…?” Was he not going to bite you? Did you make a mistake by not actually reading the T&C when you signed, scrolling quickly to the end of the form and checking the box as fast as you could to make sure the room wasn’t swiped from under you before you’d had a chance to complete the online booking.

“I never said that,” he replied, stepping in closer as he traced a finger around one side of your neck, down over your collarbone, and stopping just at the valley between your breasts.

“Is there a rule you’re afraid of breaking with me?” you asked, craning to bring your lips closer to his.

“I don't break the rules darling, I make them.” August returned his hand to your neck, stilling your advancement with the smallest effort.

“Well then, are you unable to actually bite me?” you asked, not sure whether you wanted him to consider this a question that crossed the line.

“Oh, I'm free to bite when and where you want. Many foolishly ask for the neck. In those moments, I usually oblige.”

“But…” you began.

“But there is a sweeter spot, more delicate, most delicious. This,” he let his finger run along the material around your throat, ”will help me make the better choice for both of us.”

You drew in a quick breath through your nose, causing a shudder in your shoulders as you realized you’d been holding your breath while he hinted at where he’d prefer to bite you. You’d chosen the dress specifically because it bared so much of your body near your neck that you’d hoped he couldn’t help but want to taste you. You foolishly never considered how much more bare you’d need to be before he was able to see the spot he wanted.

His dark chuckle unnerved you, but he quelled your apprehension with an invitation to join him at the dinner table. You’d completely forgotten that this experience had promised an evening meal, but honestly you assumed that was just some clever play on words. That you were to be the meal. He escorted you to a corner of the room near the fireplace, where a sumptuous feast had been set, and deposited you on one side of the table before taking a seat across from you.

“Would you care for some wine this evening?”

“Wine sounds lovely,” you answered, suddenly curious if he’d be drinking and eating with you. You watched as he lifted a decanted red and filled your glass, only to replace the crystal container onto the table before pouring a glass of his own from a dark brown glass bottle. He lifted his glass to toast your evening.

You watched carefully as he brought the goblet to his lips and drank, noticing that no obvious fangs appeared as he opened his mouth, though his canines did seem a little longer than you were used to. At least until recently that was. The men at this hotel all seemed to have been genetically gifted with glorious canine teeth and you weren’t complaining in the least.

“Now, what can I offer you to eat?” Cut fruit sat in open bowls alongside a tray of sliced meats and cheeses. He began to lift the covers off several porcelain serving dishes, revealing chicken and beef dishes, as well as vegetables and roasted potatoes. At your hesitancy, he smiled, as if extremely pleased, and continued. “Or would you prefer I choose for you?”

“I’d like it very much if you would recommend something. It all looks so wonderful.”

“Would you pass me your plate?” You obliged and he ladled servings of a few of the dishes. You noted with curiosity that he was choosing everything you would have chosen for yourself and none of the items you’d already determined you didn’t want to try, though you hadn’t said a word.

You thanked him as he handed your plate back and he invited you to begin, which you did. Because he’d asked you to. As you took your first bite, you moaned at the taste in your mouth and you thought you saw him lick his lips. What you didn’t see him do was serve himself.

“Is it to your liking then?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s delicious, thank you August…may I call you August?”

“For now. Now, what shall we talk about at this very civilized dinner we’re having together?” he asked, as he leaned back in his chair, goblet in one hand, as the fingers of the other drew lazy circles on the tablecloth. 

“Can we talk about how it doesn’t appear you're actually going to be eating with me?” You knew it was a bold question, but you still wanted to needle him a little, see where the line was.

“You see, it’s the insolence I mind. Not the question. There is a way to go about asking what you want to know without making it seem like you are trying to anger me. Or are you? Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, August,” you spoke as you placed your fork down. You had a sudden, unfortunate thought. What if you weren’t the only one who could call the whole thing off? What if your hosts had just as much right to pull out a safeword and end the liaison? You supposed, even though you were paying for the pleasure, they had to have a say in things as well. Otherwise, they were just…the thought made you shudder and not in a good way. “I am truly sorry. That was rude of me. Are you able to eat with me?”

“I am not. But I’m more than happy to enjoy your company and a more pleasant conversation while you dine. If you agree, of course.”

“Of course. Please, can we start over?”

“Pick up your fork and take a bite,” he commanded. “Continue your meal. And consider what you would like to talk about.” He took another drink and watched you with deeply penetrating eyes.

The meal was delicious and you finally figured out a topic of conversation that was neither too personal nor banal. When you made him laugh, you felt a small weight lift off your shoulders, as if his heavy and dark demeanor had made you nervous that this choice of hotel hosts was a mistake.

You had always been a bit enthralled with vampires. Loved reading Dracula both as published and in chronological order, as you’d heard about on Tumblr. Enjoyed the myriad of cinematic adaptations of the tale, especially the ones that played up the sensuality of the character. You really never imagined them to be real, but then again, you didn’t think werewolves or minotaurs were real either. For a brief moment, you thought back to your previous visits, letting your fork trail down with a slow descent.

“Finished?” he asked when your utensil hit the plate, eyebrow raised in question as he leaned forward preparing to scoot his chair back from the table. Before you’d even finished your nod, he was at your chair, easing it away from the table and offering you a hand to help you up.

“I think it’s quite time to get started on the rest of your lessons. Would you step to the window please?”

You turned and noticed the thick, black velvet curtains and assumed they must cover a window. You were commanded to open them, and you did, peering out into practical darkness only to see your reflection in place of any scenery. You glanced to the side of your image when you felt the fingertips at the top of your zipper, but though you knew they were attached to arms, attached to a body that was pressed right against you, adding more drag to his knuckles against your skin as he pulled the zipper down, you saw nothing in the mirrored window that would tell you another being was in the room with you.

You gasped, but he mistook it for shyness.

“I like to show off my conquests to whomever may be passing by below. We’re far enough up that no one could make out a face, but the body they’ll see,” he finished unzipping your dress and pushed it down your sides, letting it drop to a puddle of fabric at your feet. “The hint of red from these barely there panties, the silhouette of these curves.” You could feel but still not see his hands running up and down the sides of your body, his hands gripping your thighs before traveling up to cup your breasts. You watched as they bounced lightly in the reflection and smirked back at where you assumed his face would be before licking your matte red lips.

Your concentration was broken for a brief moment at the far off sound of a melancholy howl, but August didn’t let you linger on the thought. He spun you around to him and pressed you back toward the window, where you hissed when your ass came into contact with the chilly pane. How he missed the clink against the window, you’ll never know.

Then he caught your attention and you lost all concern for how exposed or cold your body might be at the moment. The change was practically imperceptible. One moment, he held your gaze with his dark and stormy eyes. In the next blink, his eyes burned red and held you rapt as he began to grin. Slowly, as his lips drew back, the fangs descended and you could swear you heard a faint click.

You probably let out a whimper when you saw him run his tongue along the sharp points and you definitely tilted your head on impulse, forgetting for a moment that he had already refused to take you there.

“I’d like you on your knees, please,” he asked, a little nicer than you imagined he had reason to be. Once you had obliged, he returned to commands. “Take me out.”

You did so gladly and without delay. Every assumption you made turned out to be right. He was just as well endowed as your other hosts, at least in human form. Which was nothing to sneeze at and you certainly weren’t kicking it out of bed.

You feasted on him as if you hadn’t just already eaten and you were happy to hear the sounds from him that told you he was enjoying it. And then he spoke to you.

“You like sucking on this cock, where everyone can see you, don’t you?” 

Truth be told, it had never occurred to you before. But there was an exhibitionism option on the registration form and you clicked it in a moment of audacity. He was simply giving you what you had asked for, right? It would feel this way for any guest he had in this room, right? That feeling of being out of control while technically being in the most control? You wanted him to take it.

“Yes,” you gasped as you pulled your head back for air before diving forward to take him down your throat again.

“I knew that you would. You like being naughty, don’t you?”

You bobbed your head up and down as you looked up at him, praying he didn’t make you take him out of your mouth just so he could hear you answer verbally. Your prayers were not answered.

“I asked you a question. Would you care to answer? Now? You know how I feel about punctuality, I trust.”

“Yes. Yes August, I’m sorry. I do. I really do like being naughty with you.” 

Another howl sounded, closer this time and you thought you detected the slightest of eye rolls before August got stern again, reaching down to take hold of your upper arm and lifting you to your feet with ease.

“You’re going to call me Sir from here on out and you’re going to be naughty another way now. First, close the curtains.” He spun you around so you could grab hold of the panels and draw them towards one another. You thought you glimpsed a pair of eyes, a deep glowing amber flame in the night before you shut out the world for good for the moment.

August pulled you close and whispered in your ear, “I’ll open them again if you want, if you didn’t get enough of a taste of that. I’ll take that as far as you want to go. But you should know,... he’ll see.”

It both excited you and made you afraid. Afraid of the feelings you knew had been stirring for weeks now. And yet, you were here. In this room. With this man. As much as you thought about what might be, you also knew you wanted to experience what you could. So you’d never have to doubt or question, because you knew you’d be getting the best in the end. Could it really ever be that way? Could he ever feel the same?

“I’m good. Thank you. That’s really kind of you,” you blinked, bringing yourself back to this moment. To August. “Sir.”

“That might be the last time tonight I will be. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes, Sir” you answered, with no more doubt.

August took you in his arms and kissed you deep and hard, one time, before he turned you by your shoulders and gave you a firm slap on the ass. “Into the bedroom.” The ‘now” at your hesitation was punctuated with another sharp crack and you were wet, there was no doubt about it. 

The hotel suite was bathed in sheer red curtains, over the window, over the ornate gothic canopy bed, draped down the black walls. Tall black metal candelabras held glowing candles to light the room. Hooks and straps and rings attached to the walls in various spots held your attention for a brief moment. You hadn’t checked that box, and now you wondered why not. 

You could only see yourself trying a few new things at once.

These things tonight would be a vampire. And you’d already exposed yourself. Only one more to go, and the bondage wasn’t going to be it.

August turned you back towards him when you reached the foot of the bed, then proceeded to undress. You watched enthralled as he unbuttoned his jacket, the vest, his shirtsleeves, his shirt. You watched as it all came off, one piece at a time, designed to torture you, you were sure of it. He was fucking with you. Keeping you from seeing everything all at once.

You bit your lip, but all you wanted to say was ‘i’ve seen your dick already it’s been in my mouth please give it back.’

He finally did, ordering you to the bed on your hands and knees as he stepped his fully naked body toward you, halting at the foot of the bed to grab your head and stuff his cock right down your throat. Like he’d heard what you thought.

You moaned around him, squeezing your thighs together for friction as you gyrated your hips and bobbed your head back and forth along his length. It would take barely nothing, just the slightest touch, if he would just, yeah, just…

“Oh, you did come prepared, didn’t you?”

You moaned again when you felt his fingers slide over your ass and pause to rub against the handle of the largest teardrop plug you owned. It came in a set of three, black silicone with a shiny red crystal in each handle. Up until this week, you'd only ever used the smallest while alone, but decided you needed to be ready and so had worked your way up to the largest just last night. 

“Yes, Sir,” you pulled off and answered quickly, eager to get back to sucking his large member.

“What are you prepared for?” He wiggled the handle a little when he asked.

“For you to fuck my ass, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he slapped a cheek again, then smoothed his hand over the sting and down in the dip to find your aching pussy and just like you knew it would, his touch lit you on fire. He had the wherewithal to slide your thong to the side and angle two fingers so you could press back into them on your withdrawal from his dick and pull away from them, though he’d chase, on your approach. You fucked back into his hand like you were possessed and you came once more because you definitely were.

This man owned you. For tonight anyway. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn’t say no. No way in hell.

He pulled away and turned you to face the other direction, ass waving in the space directly in front of him as you imagined and wished and hoped he’d just fuck you, please very much. He chuckled and you blinked, imagining you’d seen him now standing at the nightstand, now right behind you again. You felt him pull your underwear all the way off. And you heard the crinkle of the wrapper and you felt him slide two fingers back inside you, felt him rub the pads of his fingers along your inner walls and you felt him find the right spot, the one that released more lubrication which he gladly gathered on his finger and smeared all over his sheathed cock before he pressed himself into you.

He fucked you for a bit before he spoke again.

“I’m going to give you what you want me to give you, and then you’re going to give me what you want to give me.” With a slap on your ass, he pulled out, grabbed your hips and flipped you to your back. You watched him discard the condom before he climbed on to the bed and stepped his knees between your legs, nudging you further up the bed so that he could lay his body on the mattress, his head on your thigh, peering at your puffy pussy.

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous,” he murmured, dipping his head down to take a taste. His tongue trailed through your folds and as his lips closed you felt a hint of the scrape of his teeth against your delicate skin. He sucked at your clit for a moment before he drew back and looked up at you.

“You still want to feel this?” he asked, and you paused for one moment to consider, that yes, yes you absolutely still wanted to know what his bite would feel like. There was really no doubt in your mind. It’s what you came here for. And you knew you needed to answer him directly or it would all be over.

“Yes, Sir. Yes. Please. I want to feel it. I want to feel your bite.”

It was all he needed. In a flash he was at the crease in your thigh, just outside your cunt. You felt his mouth open, felt him drag his teeth back and forth before he finally settled on a spot to sink them. Your pussy pulsed around nothing but the brief rhythmic flow of your blood drawn into his mouth. 

You felt a rush of euphoria, a warmth like never before. A million stars lit up in your eyes and you could feel every molecule in your body and every one of them was in a state of bliss. You felt him take one more pull, a wave rushing across the shore of your imagination. When he stopped, it was almost as torturous as before he had begun. At least now you knew what that bliss could feel like.

It scared you a little. It felt like a drug you didn't want to mess around with. As good as it felt, you could imagine never wanting to let the feeling go. Begging for more. Offering up your body and soul to get one more taste, one more drifting orgasm.

Suddenly you were aware of the softest lick. The smallest peck of the lips. When you looked up at you, a stain of blood still remained on his lips and he saw you moan, saw you begin to writhe and strain up, even against the voice in your head that told you it was wrong, and it was all he could do to turn away. 

“Please August,” you begged, forgetting what role you were in.

“Princess, not for a million dollars. Not for ten million. There is literally nothing you could offer me that would make me break that rule.”

“What rule, August? What can’t you do for me?” you pleaded for an answer, pressing yourself up to your knees, unaware that the rush you were experiencing had nothing to do with the way you thought you felt about August in the moment, and everything to do with the essence he used to ease the pain of the skin break, numb the feeling of loss, and reseal the wound in the aftermath.

“I get the feeling you really didn’t read the T&C, darling. If you had you would know, in this room, this suite,” he emphasized, as if he’d had to make that clarification before, “I cannot feed you. Even if what you’ve scented is your own blood. It’s too dangerous for you to taste it. Full of my saliva. Mixed together, it’s too potent for you.”

You were distraught and he was … was he amused?

“But I’ve given you what you asked for. Are you still ready to give me what you want?” He waited a few moments, allowing you to come to grips with the reality of the situation. You had slipped over a line, though it didn’t sound like this was something he hadn’t experienced before. A naive young thing, determined to play out a school girl fantasy, relive the stories she made up about being ravished and taken by the Count, made to be his bride. 

With a small shake of your head, something cleared its way to the forefront of your mind. Of course he couldn’t feed you and of course you didn’t really want him to. It was a fantasy. That’s it. That’s all. You could only take this so far.

Once he saw you understood where the line was, August's chuckle was sinister. “You can still have something new. I’m more than happy to accommodate that request. As a matter of fact, I think that’s really the only reason you came here tonight, isn’t that right?”

Oh, he was good. That’s for sure. The way he was subtly shifting the priority of the night. Technically speaking, the only thing you’d really wanted was the bite. And he’d already given that to you. So if you were up for one more game…

“That’s right.”

He grabbed your chin and stared directly into your eyes. “That’s right, what?”

“That’s right, SIr.”

“Good girl. Lay back down. I’ll be right back.”

You wanted to kiss him goodbye as he let go of your face and appeared to float away from you. When he returned from the bathroom, his face was fresh and free of any temptation.

“Alright, princess. Hands and knees again, darling. Bring that ass right on over here,” he directed you back to the edge of the bed, ass once again in the air while you rested on your forearms. 

August took his time. Warmed you up with a few more light taps that grew to harsh stings that you couldn’t stop squirming for. And you squirmed again when he tugged and twisted and pulled on the handle, teasing the plug almost all the way out before pushing it back in and then repeating the exquisite torture. You couldn’t hold still until he’d finally pulled it all the way out and pressed two lubed fingers into your puckered hole, and it was only because you needed a moment. Needed to let the sensation settle. Needed to relax to let him in deeper. Let another finger in. It wasn’t long before you were fucking yourself back on his hand again. ‘Same but different’ was all your mind could cobble together.

“Please, Sir,” you managed to gasp out in a moment of clarity. If you never asked, would he have just kept you dangling like this all night? “Please fuck my ass.”

“There you go, princess. You’ve found your manners finally.” He pulled his fingers out and you heard the familiar tear of another wrapper. Felt more lube. And finally, finally had the tip of what you knew was his extremely large cock pressed against your entrance. 

It was easy to relax. He’d been prepping you for this for what felt like hours. It took nothing more than for you to release the deep breath you’d taken and he was past the now-less-tight ring and moving further inside you, slowly and with purpose. That purpose was to get you comfortable with the feeling, loosen you up further, and get you begging for more of him. Faster. Harder. Please, Sir. Please! More!

He obliged and it was not much longer before you felt the familiar coil tightening in a brand new way. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. You were breaking protocol and screaming his name instead of Sir, but as he came himself, he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

Tags from Werewolf!walter (if you commented):

@ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoo @augustsprincess @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

[obsessive-valentine]

Rating my Yanderes beds, because I can ✨

Barbarian!yan - Literally layers upon layers of soft warm fur on top of their equivalent of a mattress on top of a massive travelling box or two that double as bed frames. Most furs and blankets recently personally hunted/stolen for his darlings comfort bc he could sleep on a slab of stone and feel great in the morning so it’s safe to say it probably wasn’t as comfortable before he met darling. A princess and the pea situation bc he will keep adding throws and furs until darlings happy. Sounds like a dream but probably gets to hot now and then and a bed on top of wooden boxes can’t be that comfortable but at least it’s not the floor. Also didn’t own pillows before darling so stole some from a raid (that’s a funny visual) 8/10 - some points for effort

Vampire!yan - The most luxurious bed known to mankind, well darlings is, his is a literal coffin... darling has massive beautifully hand carved bed frame with a canopy, sleeps in silks and plush pillows fit for royalty. If that doesn’t fit darlings fancy there’s a few bedrooms in the manor that he can clean up for them, he just picked the most extravagant and comfortable for darling. 100/10

His actual ‘bed’ on the other hand -being the coffin- looks super cool and expensive, made from dark rich wood and a silk interior. Also does it’s job in keeping him safe from the sun or whatever. But very uncomfortable for a normal human and claustrophobic. -1/10

Farmer!yan - Nothing particularly concerning or great about the bed, it’s a sturdy handmade frame by his grandfather with maybe a 10yr old mattress at most. He’s also a type that could sleep on a stone slab and feel good from the most part on the morning so he doesn’t care that the mattress is a bit worn but will give in a pick up a new one if darling complains. Good at keeping up with laundry so the sheets are clean and soft so that counts for something. 4/10

Classic!yan - Did his research to customise his bed to darlings preferences, so when darlings kidnapped everything is new and comfortable. Great attention to detail because he gets sheets with darlings favourite colour on and many options for blankets and comforts like stuffed toys. Would be a 10/10 if it weren’t for the chain on darlings ankle being a part of the bed.

Childhood Fae!yan - He settles for nothing less than perfect, he’s spoilt and expects luxury so of course darling gets the best too. No where near as fancy as vampire yans but as comfortable, with a extravagantly carved dark wood frame that fits the dark academia vibe of his house. Very picky about the materials and firmness of his bed so he spent a lot of time perfecting it to be just right. Darlings sleeping good and extra points for having the best ambiance out of all the yanderes, I can imagine the room being so calming with the fireplace crackling and reading by candle light. 11/10

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part seven

-

First things first: a proper, decent and hopefully fully chest-covering shirt.

Sephiroth has them, and none of them fit. He has, literally, outgrown all his shirts, turtlenecks and jackets, and judging by the looks of it, he'd never bothered to get new ones. Even the stretchiest of them pops stitches when trying to accommodate his shoulders and chest! It's ridiculous! What, was he a little string bean of a man and then burst into a beefcake overnight?

Ignoring the influx of new messages from the mailing lists Genesis subscribed Sephiroth's phone to, he investigates the shops' menu with more detail. It soon proves he definitely has access to clothing stores and he definitely has the money to use them. He also has the means to just requisition a free new uniform from SOLDIER any time he wants, but apparently pressing a few buttons was too much work for the man! Better have your chest out and about than bother with the barest minimum of effort for the sake of personal comfort or public decency, apparently!

So, add laziness to the reasons why Sephiroth's outfit is like that. 

…Or maybe, possibly, some form of executive dysfunction? It might explain the room he's supposed to be living in, which is barely fitting for existing in. On a more thorough look, it really looks like everything was just placed just wherever with no care to how it looked or what the vibes were. It has a very that's good enough feel to it.

Except it isn't! It's awful! The place is barely better than a first year college dorm room! Not that he'd know what those look like, he had his own apartment by then - but still! You can do better, surely!

No, wait, actually - how old is Sephiroth right now?

The bathroom mirror isn't very helpful. Sephiroth has that same androgynous ageless look that Shen Qingqiu has - just much beefier and sorta monochrome. In xianxia terms he could be anywhere from twenty to two thousand, hah! Though from what he recalls of the game, weren't everyone kinda young? Old for JRPG, what with only one teenager in the main character group! But still way under thirties. And this is way before that….

Ahhh he misses fan wikis! He needs thoroughly documented timelines! He needs a birthday! He needs a character ID - he needs -!

Actually, Sephiroth should have some kind of ID, being an evil megacorp employee, right? An employee card, or what a SOLDIER might have. Dog tags?

Quickly he begins rummaging about his person again.

There are no dog tags, but Sephiroth does have a wallet and a bunch of cards. Including a Shinra Employee, Personnel Medical Information, Shinra Medical Research and Shinra Military cards. And Sephiroth is twenty-one, apparently. 

That's… hmm.

Yeah, he has no idea what to do with that - but it explains the awful dorm room vibe! Clearly the guy didn't have experience with how to live. And who knows how long Sephiroth has been living on his own anyway, and where and how he lived before. Plus, with his schedule, he can't be spending much time at all in this room. None, apparently, if he could manage it. And no wonder! The place is soul-suckingly awful.

Well, that's not how he's going to live, that's for sure. The shirtless life is not for him!

Hmm… ordering clothes and stuff without even seeing what they look like first, though…

Snapping the flip phone shut he goes to investigate the laptop, hoping that maybe they did figure out web sites after all. It turns on with gratifying swiftness and reveals itself to be a Windows knock-off from the nineties or something like that - with just about the same level of security. It doesn't even ask for a password! Convenient.

In a glowing example of video game redundancy created by developers being lazy, it has the exact same apps as his phone, just with a bigger keyboard. No internet, no websites, no games, nothing. And judging by the single folder on the computer, the only thing Sephiroth ever does with the thing is write mission reports. How sad.

It almost makes him miss Zhongdian.

The shops' menu comes with pictures, thankfully, so that's something - and it's conveniently hooked straight to his wallet, so all he has to do is  press buy and the thing is done, just like that! Videogame shop mechanics for you. He has no idea how the purchases would be delivered, maybe he will have to go pick them up at the building lobby or something, but whatever! He needs shirts, curtains, carpets, a couch, and a proper damn tea set to start with! And maybe, if he really goes crazy with it, some house plants!

Guessing at his size by using the tags on the shirts that don't fit, he puts in some dozen clothing orders for several different sizes to start with - and it barely makes a dent in his wallet. Then he scrolls through the available furniture in another store until he finds a couch big enough for Sephiroth's huge ass body to actually lie down on. Tea set is harder, there isn't one that matches his criteria, but he finds a home decor shop that sells teapots and sets of cups that will do for a start. Carpets are harder - who the hell decided that black ceiling was good for anyone - and ultimately he ends up choosing dark forest green.

And then he finds out that there are no live plants to be had in Midgar. There's a shop that sells life-like plastic replicas… but just looking at it makes him feel so sad. Because, yeah, right, he forgot.

Life-sucking megacorporation. Literally. The whole city is surrounded by dead desert, and you probably just can't keep houseplants alive in Midgar. Because Shinra is literally draining the lifeblood of the planet, and only the tragic heroine with mysterious lineage can make the flowers grow.

And he's her ultimate, poisonous antithesis. Yeah.

Depressing.

Leaning away from the disappointment of a computer, he heaves out a long sigh from Sephiroth's deep chest. The idea that he might never see living bamboo again makes him feel vaguely nauseous, and with a grimace he rests a hand on Sephiroth's washboard abs.

Energy sits like an undigested mass in his guts. He's all but bloated with the lifeblood of the planet. Ugh. He should really do… something with it, huh?

And then the awful Feng Shui hits him in the face.

"Ah," he mutters unhappily, eyeing the room. He can almost see the energy pooling in the middle, stagnating. That can't have been helping with Sephiroth's situation. He can't do much about it yet, not without more furniture - but he can at least move the damn bed and redirect the energy elsewhere!

Which he does.

By nearly flipping the metal frame of a probably really heavy bed over and almost throwing it into the wall.

Ah.

Right.

Super SOLDIER.

Tentatively he crouches down and tests his strength on the bed. By very carefully picking it up. Which is something he can do, apparently! It doesn't even strain him - he just puts his hands under it and lifts. Just like that. Amazing.

… Is this what it's like to be Liu Qingge? Wow.

He kinda feels sad for Liu-shidi now, for never getting to see - and fight - someone like Sephiroth. Poor Liu-shidi, always looking for a strong opponent to test himself against, always asking his useless shixiong for a spar, and here is his useless shixiong, in one of the greatest fighters in video game history - utterly out of reach! What a shame!

He arranges the bed away from the doorways and sits down on it with a heavy sigh.

Oh, but he will really miss Liu-shidi. The knowledge that he will never see him, or anyone else from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect again… it really is a shame. He didn't get to do enough in that life - but at least Liu Qingge survived! Hopefully… hopefully his life will be good. Hopefully Luo Binghe would forgive Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for their involvement with Shen Qingqiu, and they'd all live long, good lives… without him.

Ah, probably best not to dwell on it. He'd got a new transmigration, a new body and a new life to adjust to! New villain to embody - and a new doom to circumvent.

Kicking off his boots, he puts Sephiroth's feet up and into a lotus position, draws a breath and begins to see what he can do for the man's internal energies. Can cultivation practices be applied to Final Fantasy VII Mako and magic?

Time to find out.

[themakeupbrush]

In no particular order, my top looks from the 2023 Met Gala "Karl Lagerfeld: A Line in Beauty"

My thoughts are below, but I'll be honest, I didn't really do any background research this year because there wasn't much to be done. These are really just my opinions on whether or not I liked the look.

Ironically, I felt this was a very mediocre year, which led to me having a lot more favorites than usual because they were kind of all on the same level. In previous years I would have separated this into multiple posts, but I don't really see the point.

Doja Cat: I wanted someone to dress up as Choupette the cat and she delivered, and managed to do so in a way that was still fitting for the event

Keke Palmer: She looked amazing, and really captured the Chanel look with the bombshell hair and the extremely bedazzled tweed. I honestly don't want to think about how much that dress weighed

Anne Hathaway: Besides that fact that I love everything Anne Hathaway has ever done, this dress was the perfect combination of honoring Lagerfeld's style while also incorporating it into the style of the brand she was representing (Versace). It had tweed and pearls, but also sex appeal and safety pins

Cardi B: First, I just want to appreciate her ongoing commitment to high fashion and the fact that she had three (3) completely separate looks. This particular Miss Sohee look was my favorite because she's living out my glinda barbie mermaid fairy princess dreams

Harvey Guillen: This was one of the first looks I saw of the night, and still one of my favorites. It has all the Lagerfeld style essentials, but still manages to look unique. Plus, creative menswear always gets extra points because the bar is painfully low, though this year was a surprisingly pleasant exception.

Jennifer Lopez: It's not the most creative look, but it's right up my alley and honestly, do we expect anything groundbreaking from JLo? She's always going to show up in something pretty that's decently on theme enough for me to just focus on whether or not I like it. And this immediately makes me think of classic Chanel.

Penelope Cruz: She was a co-host, it's vintage Chanel couture from the 80's, and she's one of the people I most heavily associate with Lagerfeld and Chanel. A win all around.

Russell Westbrook: I really want to give Russell Westbrook credit for always showing up to the Met Gala and really going for it. I love all the details: the pearl necklace, the tweed blazer with floral clasps, the bows on the shoes

Chloe Fineman: Another first look that turned out to be a favorite. This again had all the necessary design elements without feeling like a cheap knockoff. Also major points for the bedazzled cat bag.

Anok Yai: I don't know and I don't care how this relates to theme, she looked like a goddess

Bad Bunny: Another man not only doing something interesting but incorporating the theme? Genuinely shocking. Obviously I loved the OTT floral cape, but I really loved the ode to c. 2005 Chanel with the backless suit and backwards necklace.

Gisele: She wore the same dress from an iconic 2007 editorial, proving not only that she still has it, but that she's always had it. A true supermodel.

Salma Hayek: She looked hot, I don't know what else you want me to say about it. Also it had color, which nothing else did. My eyes were starving for color.

Glenn Close: For starters, she needed an entire team to carry her train so props for that. She brought the drama, the glitz, and the "age is just a number so shut the hell up" glamor.

Lil Nas X: This was, for lack of a better phrase, a cheeks out, bedazzled, balls to the wall look. The Choupette inspiration is more obvious when he was inside with the fur (ish?) coat on, but I honestly didn't care. I needed a moment and he delivered. Though I do wonder (1) how long it took to bedazzle him and (2) will he every fully be de-glittered.

Brian Tyree Henry: I don't know if it's the pose or the cape, but it's giving me dramatic shakespeare vibes and I appreciate it.

Naomi Campbell: The only issue I have with this look is that they called 2010 Chanel Couture "vintage" and I can't accept that. Beyond that, I mean, it's Naomi Campbell in Chanel Couture. I was also dying for any semblance of color at this point and somehow this dress was among the most colorful

Jenna Ortega: The perfect combination of chanel tweed cropped blazer/mini skirt and the Wednesday Addams aesthetic. Which was interesting because I thought she was trying to move away from that but I don't care it was a successful look

Ava Max: Chanel was known for the haute couture bride, and this not only really captures that, it was one of the most and quite honestly only majorly dramatic looks of the night

Halle Bailey: She looked like a mermaid and I love that for her

Ashley Graham: I would have loved this look regardless, but after seeing the dress it was modeled after, I also think it was one of the best tributes of the night

Tems: Has she ever looked bad on a red carpet? Her headpieces are just getting bigger and more elaborate and I see nothing wrong with that.

Diddy: I love the drama + the floral cape, though I am left wondering how he didn't faint under all of that. Also, you can roast me all you want for captioning his post with Sean Combs but that's what was given to the AP so it's what I went with.

Shai Gilgeous Alexander: A final man who followed the theme and wore something interesting, arguably more interesting than some of the women. I actually think I like this look better without the coat over it.

[melkyt]

Spiderman AU - LawLu

Luffy is a perpetually broke college student who is constantly looking for jobs to do. He tends to help around the neighborhood or the several labs around the city. He's studying to be anything that lets him have some adventures. His classes are sporadic and all over the place, and he is going for several degrees. One of those classes is in the science building. So, he has a lot of random interactions with med and science students. He talks to everyone.

Law works at the college as a researcher, having graduated when he was still a kid. He is trying to find a cure to his illness as anything he found until then was just a treatment, not a cure.

He works for the Donquixote family corp that is known around the city for being shitty behind the scenes (oscorp vibes). Law is one of their kids, and most avoid him for that fact alone. So when he tries to find one of the trade kids to help with more physical experiments, they say no.

Luffy overhears this conversation and immediately says yes. He doesn't ask for details. Law doesn't think that anyone not in the trade he's looking for will be useful with the amount of engineering required, but Luffy says he has a friend who can come by, and they can both help.

Luffy and Usopp show up a few days later at a lab tucked away in a part of the city that is not considered great. Luffy grew around there with Ace and Sabo, so he doesn't care, but Usopp is terrified. He grew up just outside a gated community where nobody locked their doors.

Law had given them the code, and they let themselves in. The lab is a mess, there is tech and half-finished experiments all over the place. Tanks with green bubbling liquid it. Law is focused on a microscope.

Luffy notices the bugs being kept in their habitats and immediately beelines it for that area and starts chattering away, asking questions.

Law is surprised by how much Luffy just casually knows about bioengineering and many other topics. Luffy manages to tell what experiment he is doing just from one glance. They talk bugs for a bit until Usopp clears his throat and says that he can only be there for a short few hours and what does Law want him to do.

They work through most of the evening after that. Usopp eventually leaves, but Luffy decides to stick around and talk more bugs with Traffy.

They talk well into the early morning, Law running on energy drinks and willpower crashes around 4 am mid-conversation.

Luffy chuckles, picks the man up as though he weighs nothing and brings him to the office couch, and goes to search for a blanket.

While on his quest, he noticed that one of the bug cages was ajar. Did they bump it when they were working? "Hope the little guy is still there."

It was not. The spider habitat was very much empty. Luffy decides to find it before leaving. First, he gets a blanket for Law though, he grew up with a brother who tends to overwork himself and crash and then get colds, he doesn't want his new friend to get sick.

When he does find the spider by instinct alone. It's calm and crawls up his arm as though they have known each other for years.

Then Law wakes up, he comes out of the room all groggy and asks why Luffy is still there.

The spider gets spooked and bites Luffy, who moves quickly to drop it into its habitat. "Had a little escape." He smiles and pretends that he wasn't just bitten by a potentially poisonous spider.

"Oh, thanks." Law nods. "I'm gonna get some more sleep. You should go home. Classes start soon"

"Yeah, yeah" Luffy waves it off, he still has plenty of energy to go to class and stay up another day.

He leaves Law's lab, takes the subway home, and as soon as he is through the door, he crashes. Much to the alarm of Ace and Sabo, who he shares an apartment with.

When he wakes up again three days later, the doctors blame it on exhaustion. Nobody who knows Luffy buys it, there must be some other explanation. Ace, having lost both his parents to illness, insists that Luffy stays so the doctors run more tests. Luffy says no because it's boring and expensive even though the college job contract pays for his insurance.

So he is driven home, and as soon as Ace and Sabo leave for their obligations, he is out the door. He wants to see Law and say sorry for flaking. He promised and failed. The lab isn't far away, so he can walk. Something he probably shouldn't do right before dark in his neighborhood. Ace often tells him that's how you get shot.

On the way, he doesn't quite pay attention. He hears gunshots, but that's normal. They stop eventually, and he thinks nothing of it until a car comes roaring around the corner. It's too fast, but his body reacts, and he jumps into the air, landing on a nearby building and sticking to the wall.

He has powers from that point on. The first person he visits is Usopp, telling him everything! Then, everyone else in his group of friends, he doesn't keep secrets from them or anyone really. They are going to have a hell of a time trying to keep Luffy is Spiderman a secret xd. He'll tell Ace and Sabo later when they stop fussing over him, almost getting by a car, which is how he started the story.

So after that, he goes to Law's lab, only to find it dark. When Usopp manages to turn on the lights, everything is broken, and there is blood on the floor and walls. Something bad happened here. He knows the blood is Law's

Luffy decides to make this his first case as Spiderman. He and Usopp clean up the lab as best they can and make it their own, looking for clues.

They find out that Doflamingo Donquixote sold this lab to the city and marked it abandoned, and well, it is the city that moves slowly, especially in lower-end neighborhoods. It went into limbo. Nobody owns it now. That also means there is now news of Law or what happened, or where he is now.

Usopp as the constant voice of wisdom (self-proclaimed lol) says they should just leave it and not get involved with DQ Corp, that it is a bad idea.

Luffy just says meh and that he has to find Traffy. He was cool. They talked about bugs all night, and that might as well be a proposal.

So Luffy with Usopp providing the tech support starts going after DQ buildings around town, finding out a lot of crap that they pull and more about Law's situation, that he was practically bought out of college to do illegal experimentation for DQ. They were looking for immortality, and there was an accident. In the files, the law was just labeled a failure and a criminal for getting away with proprietary info.

With no leads, Luffy decides to say fck it and just go on instinct. He swings all around the city until he reaches the docks. There are large pipes leading into the harbor, and one of them has its grate broken.

Luffy goes in without a second thought that it will be dangerous.

Inside is a makeshift lab, stealing power from the dockyard above.

"TRAFFY! I found you." He pulls off his mask. Luffy is absolutely giddy at finding his friend. They may have only known each other for a week and a day, but Luffy knows who he wants even if he only saw them for a minute.

Law jumps and runs, pressing himself into the far corner of the room. 'Don't Look!'

Luffy, of course, ignores him and gets in his personal space. "Heh, you got scales and a tail! That's so cool"

Law relaxes a little bit then more and tells Luffy everything. How he had gotten a breakthrough in the immortality serum he was making for Doflamingo and he needed a test subject even though DQ would provide him with what they called 'disposable personnel'. Law wasn't about to let them do that, so he used it on himself, partially out of desperation as his treatments stopped working. It cured him, but the side effect was he was more lizard than human now and also wanted dead so Doffy could dissect him to see what made him tick. As Law destroyed any notes and had no intention of telling him, the side effects were too much to allow human testing, which is the next step to work out the problems.

Luffy only half listens, snapping awake when Law is done and telling him to leave that it is not his problem.

"Nuhuh, I like you, Traffy! Come on. My friends can help yah." He puts on his mask and lifts Law as though he still weighs nothing despite the tail adding more than a couple of pounds.

"Wait, don't just--" Law tries to complain, push away, that is until they are flying through the air. Then he clings, he is not good with heights.

Luffy brings them to the dorm, building his friends are at, going for the common room where they are all gathered, just relaxing.

He sets Law on the couch, "Hey guys, this is Traffy, he's gonna be my boyfriend!"

"What? No, I'm not!" Law snaps, bearing his new fangs, scales glisten in the light. He realizes they are all staring at him, he tries to hide his tail.

"Aw, why not" Luffy crouches with a pout "Dont you like me?"

"I went along with your bullshit because I need help with all this" He gestures all over himself.

"Yeah, we'll help, but I also like you, Traffy, that's how I found you!" Luffy says it with full confidence.

"Argue with Luffy later," Nami interjects. "He's not gonna drop it"

"Yeah, dinner is almost ready anyway." Zoro opens one eye to look over from the couch where he is chilling.

"Food!" Luffy throws off his mask and runs toward the kitchen.

"Dont you all care?" Law looks around, confused that they aren't freaking out.

"Luffy's a spider. You being a lizard might as well be normal." Nami shrugs, taking some chips out of a bowl on the coffee table.

And thats that, they let him into their makeshift family as though he has always been there.

They talk about their plan, Luffy's being just to break in and punch Doflamingo in his stupid bird face and tell him to leave his 'future boyfriend' alone. He always says it with such confidence that Law almost agrees every time, but he holds back.

When not talking about destroying the biggest corp in the city, they talk about science and biology as Law tries to revert his condition. Luffy adds new ideas that Law would have never even thought of. They are highly experimental and impractical but genius.

These discussions usually end in Law curled up in Luffy's arms, tail around his waist as they fall asleep. This arrangement made both Law and Luffy have something akin to a good sleeping schedule.

In time, they take down DQ, it's a dramatic fight with Luffy getting injured so much that he has to recover for a whole week even with his healing abilities.

When he wakes up again, Law is there at his bedside, wearing a fancy oversized coat to hide his tail.

Luffy grins. "Will you be my boyfriend now, Traffy?"

With the right of Doffy's control gone, he's free, and for the first time, he feels comfortable enough to say yes. Their fight is not over yet, but now they are together, for whatever comes next in making the city free.

[chinomiko]

hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.

[tewwor-moving]

sea creature affairs starter call — i won't lie.. got a hankering to rev up some new content with these goons. everyone resides / at least calls harborview their home. just a small coastal town that's 10000% normal and not inhabited by strange things from the nearby sea. creatures of which that were made or in the very least influenced by some lone god found beneath sea foam and abyssal depths.

More sea creature lore here!

like and/or specify who you'd like from habrorview's very own! if you previously liked for a starter ( and/or i already made you one ) and you want another with a different character — please comment and let me know!!! i'm more than happy to have multiple threads with these silly strange creatures

adal — werewolf / sea creature hybrid . carpenter that's just trying his best, so soft and guilt ridden he'll help thieves clear out his own home, designated scout for any trouble brewing on the horizon as he sails most often

altan — basilisk . angry hermit trying desperately to live in solitude, keeper of a barely functioning lighthouse, usually the first point of contact for oram when he waddles his sea monster ass back to land, immediately beams super mean things into orams head to help him remember how to speak the human language before kicking him out.

amant taylor boudreaux — human . just a guy that's been obsessed with harborview's happenings, he's dedicated his life to accurately detail not only it's citizens but also the mysterious people that return from the sea, would 1000% try to get nasty with someone just to lowkey research them, brainrot on god ( oram, even if he doesn't know that weird soggy man is the sea god responsible for all sea creatures )

dane — sea creature . marine biology professor & totally not the son of the alleged sea god, oram, is known to throw the occasional hissy fit if a traveler starts to get too nosy, ignorance is the only thing keeping his father immortal

danny — sea creature . pirate smoted humbled by another god's wrath, runs a pub and very uncanny valley if you look close enough, thinks sitting by him while he soaks in the tub counts as a romantic date, probably eats people

hugh — sea creature . unofficial babysitter of newly turned sea creatures, just wants to run his restaurant in peace but is usually in pieces instead, don’t ask questions if you see him throwing things off the pier

joel — human ( for now ) . ooooo the sea creatures want him so bad, retired saturation diver, plagued with trauma / #1 harborview conspiracy theorist, main character syndrome & literally at his wits end

lior — siren / sea creature hybrid . prior criminal ties, current fashionista, embodiment of 'i told you so', weirdly misses needing souls as sustenance

oram — hunters want him, joel fears him, he barely knows wtf is going on at any time of his unfortunately long life, often found as a wet and soggy man wandering the beach, eldritch vibes all around and does little to hide it

tatsuro watanabe — figurehead come alive . the newest of harborview’s bestiary, still trying to grasp how humans act and why, will try anything once, underestimates his strength often, lowkey something intimidating about him

vincent — imugi . founder & #1 fan of the oram hate club, town-locked against his will, would love nothing more than to never talk to anyone but they love to bug the hell out of him, only cares about joel because he's.. struggling pathetic

[flowerbloom-arts]

If you don't mind me asking? Can you elaborate more on the problematic aspect of Mumrik please?

Don't take too much of my word for it because this isn't very researched and this is more of a stream of consciousness than anything but fanon "Mumriks" (Joxter and Snufkin), as I've seen here and there, fall dangerously close to antisemitic caricatures and Romani stereotypes.

For one thing, Joxter and Snufkin's personalities being equated leads to a mash of their negative traits, and their negative traits being laziness, deceitfulness, uncleanliness and tendency for thievery/utter disregard for the law to the point of amorality or indecency applied to both with either "natural explanations" (saying that's just an Inherent Part Of Their Species) or dubious motivations is deeply entrenched in stereotypes of the Roma throughout Europe.

The fandom tends to mystify Joxter and Snufkin alot on very shaky ground, with forebodings (gut feelings) that are treated as a magic litmus test for things to come or having a connection with ghosts or using divination like tarot which is based on either throwaway lines or background details that don't particularly affect the plot yet the fandom treats as one of their major traits that get used in plots alot. Romani people get stereotyped with that sort of mysticism alot, especially in association with the Fortune Telling business and to a lesser extent Mediumship and general superstition. I could also chalk this up to the mystic cat stereotype, particularly in association with witches and the like.

Joxter gets (or at least got, a while back) casted as the malevolent counterpart to Snufkin for the sake of Daddy Issues Angst, and that combined with people's dissatisfaction with Joxter and Snufkin's more human designs gave way to very impish or even monsterous depictions of Joxter (and sometimes Snufkin), which we can make parallels to antisemitic caricatures of Jewish people; sharp teeth, pointy ears, strange eyes, predominant nose, hind legs, tails, claws, generally untrustworthy vibes all around. Unclean and tattered, not to be trusted by others in any proximity; good for nothing thieves and tricksters.

People like to make "Mumriks" this massively marginalized group, afterall the two fellas we know are like... Hrm. But Joxter's lifestyle is hopelessly conflated with Snufkin's... Darn. People try to draw lines where they think they are but in doing so, it trying to replicate Tove's style of "some behaviors being inherent to a species" (which one can debunk with some critical thought and literacy) they accidentally create these stereotypes, they don't draw clear distinctions between Joxter and Snufkin even though Snufkin's mother is a Mymble, they don't consider how weird it would be within the context of our culture or even the context of these characters, yet somehow...

But this is just my thoughts as they currently are, I have thought about it alot but I do need to be on the lookout for more examples and do more proper digging. Again, I'm not accusing anyone of bigotry and purposefully baking them into characters who are clearly their darling faves, I'm just saying that there are certain things one must keep in mind when it comes to characterization and headcanons, or else one could accidentally recreate malicious bigotry without any malice.

[rhondafromhr]

So I started writing that Max and Steph roleswap AU and I wanted to post this little snippet I have so far and hear everyone’s thoughts because I’m not 100% happy with it yet…idk i feel like it might be too exposition heavy if that makes sense?? Like the backstory is important but idk I feel like I just kind of dumped it and maybe could weave it throughout the story better?? Lmk if you have any thoughts :)

Also Max and Richie’s relationship is going to be platonic in this (bc once again I’m weak for aroace Richie and the power of friendship being treated with the same narrative weight as romantic relationships).

Finally shoutout to tumblr user @idk-imrambling-idk who said in the tags of the original post that Max and Steph give sibling vibes in this au because I was like you know what, I love that, yes they do!! And it really inspired their dynamic and relationship in this

Here it is :)

Stephanie learned what it meant to be powerless at the ripe old age of nine. She sat next to her father in the crowd, watching the blindingly bright spotlight shine down upon her mother and beaming with pride as she was crowned Honey Queen. The applause was uproarious, every last townsperson’s gaze fixed solely on her. She’d always known her mom was the sweetest woman in Hatchetfield, but now it was official. Now she had the beautiful, ornate crown upon her head to prove it. As her mother was whisked away to what she assumed was some sort of super special, secret ceremony, her father insisted over her protests that no, they couldn’t go with her, she needed to go home and get to bed. It was a school night, after all, and she’d see her mother soon enough. She didn’t. Her mother never came home that night and with each passing day, Stephanie’s hope that she ever would dwindled even further.

Every woman who’s ever won that pageant has left Hatchetfield and never looked back, but back then, she didn’t know that. She just knew that one day, her mom was there to fawn over her drawings and point out all the little details she liked and put her spelling test up on the fridge and say how proud she was that Steph worked so hard and got more words right than last time and the next day, she wasn’t and there was nothing Stephanie could do about it. She wondered what she did wrong that her mom was so eager to get away from her. To this day, Stephanie doesn’t know where she ended up. She went through a brief phase where she spent hours a day fervently researching online and following every crumb of information she could find, desperate for any answers, but the very few flimsy leads she was able to find turned out to be dead ends. Not long after her twelfth birthday, Solomon told her she really ought to stop digging, because she wasn’t going to find the answers she was looking for and if she did, she wouldn’t be able to handle them. She rolled her eyes at his usual weird, cryptic nonsense, but for once, she didn’t argue with him. She never did figure out how he knew what she was doing. She only did her sleuthing when she was home alone and always made sure to use incognito mode.

As she got older, the list of things she had to do and wasn’t allowed to do and people she couldn’t hang out with grew exponentially. Everything always came back to the next election and how her behavior might reflect on her father. There was to be no hanging out with the smoke club kids, because he didn’t want the public thinking she was some kind of drug fiend (as if they were doing actual drugs. They were seventh graders. They may have upgraded to the real stuff now, but back then, Stephanie’s confident their vices of choice were, in fact, cloves and oregano, whether or not they were aware of it). If there was an option for honors or AP in a given subject, she had to take it, regardless of her interest or aptitude. He didn’t want her looking like some kind of slacker. Ironically, she credits that with how she became one. It was embarrassing trying so hard, only to still struggle to understand the material and receive abysmal grades in return, but it was equally embarrassing to admit to this and ask for help, so she figured the easiest route would be to stop trying. She made sure to keep her grades just barely high enough to keep her dad off of her case, but refused to do anything more. These days, she doesn’t have to sweat it. If she’s really in a pinch, she can just threaten some nerd into doing her homework for her.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the summer before Freshman year, one Greg Jägerman followed in his wife’s footsteps and vanished without a trace. That in itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but it did raise the question of what to do with the son he left behind. Solomon wasn’t doing so hot in the polls and Miss Tessburger decided that taking in the guy’s now-orphaned kid would make Solomon look kind and charitable, two of the last descriptors most voters would apply to him. Of course, nobody asked Steph her opinion. She was just stuck with this annoying pseudo-adopted brother one day and expected to be cool with it. Well, more accurately, nobody cared whether she was cool with it or not. The worst part was that he totally bought into this stupid fake family thing. He still won’t stop calling her sis.

What really infuriates her is that he gets the freedom she’s long been denied. Solomon truly couldn't care less what he does as long as he stays out of major trouble, doesn’t completely flunk his classes and shows up for all the public appearances and family photo ops. To this day, he still calls Solomon Dad as if he has any right to, as if Solomon sees him as anything more than an unfortunate consequence of a bold PR stunt, as if he’s had to put up with a fraction of what Stephanie’s endured from him. Solomon is not his dad and he is not a Lauter, no matter how many people mistakenly call him that. Solomon even praised him once. He came home from his latest lacrosse match and proudly said that they’d creamed Sycamore or whoever. Solomon, nose-deep in the latest poll and survey results Miss Tessburger had sent him, absently said, “that’s nice, son,” and waved him off. Sure, it was insincere. Sure, it was dismissive. But it was still far more than Stephanie had gotten since she was literally nine years old and more than she’s gotten since. It made her blood boil. She’d been jumping through hoops like some kind of goddamn show dog for her father for years and never got so much as one half-hearted compliment. It was just expected of her.

Still, she continued to jump through those hoops. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice and at this point, it was all she really knew, anyway. Unsurprisingly, Solomon still demanded more and just before she went into high school, he decided she was going to do sports. If there’s one defining trait that all of his constituents in town share, it’s their bizarre obsession with high school football, so this was a surefire way to impress them.

“Why do I have to?” she’d protested “Max already plays volleyball and lacrosse, doesn’t that satisfy the sports kid requirement?”

“Stephanie, I’d like to have an intelligent conversation with you. In other words, shut up. You know as well as I do that nobody cares about either of those sports. Clivesdale doesn’t even have a lacrosse or volleyball team and beating them is all these simple-minded hicks seem to care about. If you refuse to bring up your mediocre grades or put your time into any useful extracurriculars or bettering yourself in any way, the least you can do is join the cheer squad. How hard can it be to jump around and do some silly little chants?”

Max was there, too. Of course he was. On the increasingly rare occasions where Solomon was actually home, he was sure to be right there at his side, telling him about his day as if he fucking cared. Calling him Dad as if he had any fucking right to. She didn’t miss the way his face fell ever so slightly when Solomon said that nobody cared about his stupid sports and she couldn’t help but feel smug about it.

“Ha, yeah,” she said with a smirk “volleyball and lacrosse are dumb.”

The brief satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing matter. Hell no, she was not going to join cheer. Pep, enthusiasm and silly dance routines aren’t really her style. She wasn’t sure she could do it if she wanted to and she really, really didn’t.

“Well, figure it out,” Solomon told her, looking at her with the usual disdain “it’s either that or football.” He may have said it mockingly, but she decided to take it as a challenge. She breached her own “no putting in more effort than necessary” policy and spent hours a day on the empty football field practicing plays. She’d usually drag Max along with her if he didn’t have practice for whichever one of his unimportant non-sports was in season.

“Hey,” he said during one of these practice sessions as he threw an admittedly decent spiral, his signature dumb, goofy grin on his face “I’ve been thinking about trying out, too. It might be kinda fun to be on the team together.”

She scowled. “No,” was her only response “just shut up and throw the ball, okay?” This was going to be her thing, damnit. He wasn’t going to invade it like he did everything else in her life. He did as she asked and never brought it up again.

She spent hours more at the gym, doing hard cardio until she was as sweat-soaked as that annoying weeb kid she saw around school sometimes and pushing herself to her limits strength training. It all paid off when the day of tryouts arrived and she blew everyone away with her athletic prowess, earning the position of star quarterback. That alone would have been great publicity and the fact that she was a freshman and the first girl ever to make the team in any position were the cherry on top. It spoke volumes that Solomon didn’t have anything negative to say, although he didn’t offer any praise, either.

If nobody could stand up to her before, they really couldn’t now. She wasn’t just the mayor’s daughter anymore. She was the star football player and with every victory she helped them score, especially against Clivesdale, the teachers and the principal became less and less likely to discipline her if anyone complained of her so-called bullying. It wasn’t as if they could do much before, but now they didn’t even care to try. With that, her iron grip over the school was secured and she’s thoroughly enjoyed it ever since. She still can’t do anything about her mom walking away or her dad treating her like some kind of accessory whose only use is to make him look good to potential voters or her stupid not-brother encroaching on her life and taking everything that’s rightfully hers, but she can maintain the delicate balance that is the high school hierarchy she’s created and bring order to Hatchetfield High. Really, she’s doing them all a favor. They don’t know what’s good for them and without her, it would descend into chaos.

Max slides into his seat in AP Calc with seconds to spare before the bell rings. He’s slammed two of those vile tasting sugar free energy drinks and he’s praying they’ll kick in soon.

“Alright, we’re going to have a pop quiz today. Hope you’ve been hitting the books, Mr. Lauter,” Miss Mulberry says. He doesn’t bother correcting her. Maybe if he could wear his letterman that has “Jägerman” embroidered on it, people wouldn’t make that mistake so often, but he’s not allowed to. The letterman jacket is Steph’s signature look. Not even Kyle and Jason get to wear theirs unless it’s a game day and they’re her closest friends. Max doesn’t even get that privilege, so he settled for a navy blue flannel with a tiny nighthawk patch poorly sewn into the pocket and his letterman hangs untouched in his closet. Sometimes, he doesn’t mind being called Max Lauter, even if it sounds a little off. Sometimes, he wants to believe that’s what he is. Other times, he wishes people would get it right. That’s the least of his worries right now, though. His chest feels so, so tight and a wave of nausea overtakes him and makes him wonder if ingesting so much caffeine and chemicals was a wise idea. He’s screwed. He can barely pass a test in this class when he has time to prepare and sacrifices several nights’ worth of sleep to study. He shouldn’t even be here. He knows he’s kind of dumb. Stephanie gleefully reminds him on a regular basis. Solomon doesn’t vocalize it, but sometimes Max will say something to him and he’ll just give him this look as if he’s just uttered the stupidest, most incomprehensible words ever spoken, then shake his head and go back to ignoring him. He’s always had a lot of trouble in most subjects, but math is by far the worst. Realistically, remedial algebra would be more his speed, but it wouldn’t be very becoming of a sort-of Lauter. Solomon took him in when he had nowhere else to go. He’s been a lot nicer to him than his own father ever was. He figured the least he could do is make him proud, but so far, that plan has backfired tremendously. Nobody’s going to be impressed with the D plus that he’s clinging to for dear life and can still feel slipping through his grasp.

He glances to his left and sees his neighbor calmly reach into his backpack and pull out his pen and calculator. The sheen of sweat on his forehead would suggest that he’s almost as nervous as Max is, but his demeanor radiates confidence and excitement. Max wonders why that guy wears so many layers if he’s always so sweaty. They’ve been in classes together since the first grade, but they’ve hardly spoken two words to each other. Max has, however, watched his hand eagerly shoot up whenever Miss Mulberry asks a question. He has watched him answer every equation with ease, solving them without fail, even when it all looks like gibberish to Max. If anyone can help Max out of this jam, it’s this guy. He has no real reason to, but Max supposes it can’t hurt to ask. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Hey,” he whispers “Shitlips, right?” He immediately winces. Fuck, he did not mean to say that. That’s how Steph and her friends always refer to him and he let it slip without thinking. Richie turns to glare at Max, clearly not amused.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly “I meant Lipschitz. Richie Lipschitz, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, still a little irritated “what is it? We’re about to take a test.”

“It’s just that, uh, we’ve been in school together for, like, ages and I just realized I’ve never introduced myself. I’m Max.”

“Yeah, I know, Max Jägerman. The mayor’s kid. Stephanie Lauter’s brother.”

“She doesn’t like me reminding people, but yeah,” Max replies with a self-deprecating chuckle “I feel kinda bad now. I called you Shitlips and you got my name right on the first try. A lot of people think it’s Lauter.”

This gets Richie to crack a faint smile. “Yeah, I always remembered it because it sounds like Eren Yeager.”

“So, you ready for this test?” says Max with a sheepish grin “‘Cause I’m really, really not. Like, nothing in this class makes even a little bit of sense to me. I’m one hundred percent going to fail. Unless you help a bro out.”

“Oh, we’re bros now?” Richie says with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure,” Max says “we’re Nighthawks, right? We gotta stick together.”

“But won’t we get in trouble?”

“Not if we don’t get caught,” Max says “rules were made to be broken.”

“Fine,” says Richie “I’m willing to tilt my paper slightly so you can see it better. Try to keep up, though, I’m not waiting to turn in my test so you can finish copying. That’ll look suspicious.” That much is true. Richie’s always the first person to turn in his test in this class, usually by a substantial amount of time. “And don’t be super obvious about it,” he adds.

“Really?” Max says, his face lighting up in a way that he rarely allows it to “thanks, dude, I owe you one!”

[crazylittlejester]

Daily brainrot and today I've got a load of headcanons I've been mulling over because they won't leave me alone.

I know we've all done a college AU at some point in our lives, but I was up at like 3 am last night debating over which academia aesthetic each Link embodies because I may have spent way too much time on the aesthetics wiki recently. Did I procrastinate for an hour to work on this? Yes. I have no regrets. YOLO and all that.

Sky -- Definitely has light academia vibes. The man does not own a single dark piece of clothing, and everything in his closet is very soft and cozy. He double majored in aviation and environmental science, but he's debating transferring over to the biology department to pursue grad studies in ornithology.

Time -- He is not in charge of his own wardrobe, okay? Malon picks out his outfits. They match. It's always something tasteful and neutral with a little bit of color, but nothing that marks him as belonging to academia. He's part of the philosophy department and a strict teacher, but the students all love him because he genuinely wants them to do well and lets them know. Most of his work is writing for philosophy journals when he isn't teaching.

Legend -- Has more of a general/miscellaneous aesthetic that leans hard into gender non-conformity. He takes his work with him everywhere and whenever someone asks about it, it goes completely over their heads because they have no idea what he's talking about. There's an ongoing bet about whether his dissertation is about linguistics, sociology, or both.

Hyrule -- I don't think there's a word for his aesthetic, he just gives off "outdoors creature" vibes so hard. He's a cryptid and rarely in the classroom because he's always out doing field work. The most human contact he has is outreach programs with the environmental science and biology departments. No one knows exactly what his grad work is supposed to be because it's incomprehensible combinations of wildlife photos half the time and the other half the time he's off the grid.

Twilight -- This is what happens when cowboys and gothic academia have a kid. It's really freaking weird, but somehow he makes it work, so nobody questions it. He technically works for the agricultural department doing research and outreach programs, but he also haunts the English department and occasionally teaches 100 level literature classes online. The freshmen like him because he rounds grades up.

Four -- An unholy combination of academia and his unique color coding system. You don't know what you're getting until he shows up. He generally wears neutral stuff, but his socks and ties are color coded, much to everyone's chagrin. He's got multiple projects going at any given time and helps out the other departments when they get stuck on details. He's really cagey about his dissertation, but he practically lives in the science & engineering building, so he can't exactly deny that he's doing something in STEM.

Wind -- He tried being fashionable, but as soon as he decided to major in oceanography he was swept away by ocean academia. The amount of blue clothing he has is frankly horrifying, and Warriors is trying to get him to branch out into less garish shades of gray and stop wearing almost exclusively rubber boots as footwear. It's a work in progress.

Warriors -- I think he'd fall under general or queer academia because he'd be fashionable in a mostly-normal-but-also-queer sort of way. Stylish, and fruity. Definitely prefers autumn/winter because that's peak scarf season. He's the kind of guy who manages to casually slip representation into any curriculum you hand him and makes it look natural. He got an assistantship with the history department because the professors love him.

Wild -- 100% chaotic academia and doesn't even have to try. Everything is a mess, but it's his mess, he knows exactly where everything is, and to be honest it's not a safety hazard, so it's fine. Besides, he dresses appropriately for department events, and he's the only grad student that Flora hasn't scared off. No one actually knows which department he belongs to, but he knows something about everything.

IM SO FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA

THESE ARE SO PERFECT AND YOU’RE SO RIGHT ABOUT THEM ALL I LOVE THESE SO MUCH IM SHAKIN EM AROUND LIKE A JAR OF MARBLES

[corbits-comet]

writing tools tips and tricks I personally use

I write historical fiction and am very detail oriented and also highly forgetful so this is the stuff I use to plan my story and so I don’t forget stuff

STUFF U NEED

-notebook or google doc (I use a combination of both) 

-internet access or a public library and the ability to read 

-your big beutiful brain you’ve got swirling around up there 

You really don’t need any fancy shit

  PRECURSORS. 

You’ll need to come up with a concept or a character dynamic you like. For me it came with: two detectives who have a bitter rivalry, and then the setting, extra characters and plot line fell into place. 

Day dreaming— this is a vital step, as soon as you get a concept, or even just a character dynamic in your head, put on some of your favorite music that you feel like might match the vibe and get imagining, just play around see what happens

Write that shit down. It seems stupid but trust me write down ever little idea you have, nothing has to go in order, you can write the ending and then the beginning and then the middle for all anyone cares. If you get ideas for scenes or side characters halfway through developing your main characters WRITE IT DOWN. Even if it’s shit and dosnt get used. 

Start stitching stuff together, start weaving in your favorite troupes, plot lines and ideas, for me it went from the rivalry to then the idea of a stalker, then the additional idea of adding political rivalry, murder, aristocracy and eventually a fully fleshed out story. Just keep adding stuff until it feels round, you can always add and subtract 

Now character work. For me at least I don’t need to know everything about the story before I start writing but I do need to know everything about the characters. I start with just doing a big infodump on each characters personality traits and their function in the story. And that’s it for now, that’s the first step. The second one is I go through the dynamics between the main characters, for example I have two main characters so I write about how they feel about eachother respectively, and then how each of them feel about the villan, the stalker, and a few other main characters etc. this will help you with scenes and character development. The third and final one I like to do is actually a character work excercises off tumblr (I found it on Pinterest here’s the link, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1038501995319442405/ no clue who wrote it so if anyone knows I’ll gladly credit them <3) and after that I usually have a pretty good grasp on what my main characters think and feel about most things in the story. You can go farther by I typically don’t

Alright by now you probably have at least an idea of what kind of setting you want to have your story in so now it’s time to start worldbuilding. Like I said I mostly write historical fiction so this step will look a little different if you’re making your own world and stuff but the basics are pretty much the same. RESEARCH. Find and read anything you can on anything relevant to your story, for me that’s geographical locations, town layouts, early zoning, social hiarchies, medicine, law and religion, as well as the functions of certian poisons used for the murders in my story. But this can look like anything. Writing FNAF fanfiction? Get prints on the layout, and if you’re making your own look up layouts of old 80’s pizzareas and accounts from people that worked there. Get the links and keep them all on a document, for later…

Lists. While all this is happening I have two lists going, one of things that I know I want to happen in the story. You don’t have to have a coherent plot line, just a general idea and then as you start working on it you’ll accrew some ideas, write these down. Even if they’re shit. You want forced proximity with the main rivals? Do it. You want a certian character to get hurt? Do it. They don’t have to have a sensical order, this is so you don’t lose track of all the cool stuff you think of. The second list is one of side characters. They don’t have to have names yet, a few of mine are ‘old richy rich mcmoneybags’ and ‘crazy old bag McGee’ and then a brief character description about what they do in the story. These characters can be even more important than the main ones, and ones your readers will remeber forever.  

And the last is one of the best writing advice I’ve ever gotten. Write your first draft like total shit. It’s a map for your story, for you to go back in and fill in later, if you think of something for the future midway, put it in and fix it later. And most importantly; you don’t have to write in order. Write what you know, what you’re excited for. Just tiny scene by tiny scene. And then start stringing them together and fill in the gaps

Now go my minions. Write your story’s. also! Tumblr writing advice can be worth its weight in gold.