#and then a day later its fucking crickets

[shadowcay]

On the one hand, I LOVE creating content and posting on socials for work

On the other hand, I HATE creating content and posting on socials for work

[fabulouslygaybean]

do you ever listen to the minecraft soundtrack and your heart is instantly filled with such strong longing that it's physically painful

[queenimmadolla]

eddie, "angel", and fluff

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

  Eddie takes an aggressively long pull of the joint clasped between his fingers, dark brown eyes focused on where you occupy the other half of the couch. Your arms are folded over the arm, head using them as a makeshift pillow for the weed induced nap that came over you.

  It’s dusk, the trailer park bathed in the warm copper glow of the sun’s last few minutes. The streetlights are due to come on when it disappears. Until then, the park kids run rampant, eager to play before the dark sends them home.

  Crickets are already chirping, Cicadas and their annoying screams are reverberating from various parts of the park, all the sounds of an approaching summer night.

  The heat had been bearable today, a nice breeze sweeping through Hawkins and encouraging most of the Forest Hills residents to keep their doors and windows open so their homes could air out. 

  You’d slept over the night before, and with some languid kisses, Eddie had easily persuaded you to stay. You practically lived with him already, anyways. Had your products mingled with his on his dresser, your clothes in his closet and drawers and his pillows smelling of your shampoo and perfume. It felt wonderfully domestic and Eddie was hooked on the sensation. Loved having your presence all around him.

  With a summer day as nice as today, the two of you decided to wind down with some light reading and sharing a joint, some grapes, along with some water out on the porch couch. 

  Eddie was sitting on one end of the couch, while you were splayed out on the rest of it, bare feet resting on his lap. The two of you read your separate choices, enthralled in the last voyage of the dawn treader and a corpse, made from various beings, brought to life. 

  The soothing stroke of Eddie’s hands over the skin of your leg, coupled with the heat, breeze and weed had eventually lulled you into a slumber, with Eddie noticing only after he’d finished the chapter he was on. He entertained the idea of reading further, you just proved to be far more alluring than any structure of the English language. 

  Your face is a little shiny, obviously due to the weather, but it only makes you glow and your lips are pouty as a result of half your face being squished against your arm. You look so peaceful, so beautiful. His angel. 

  Eddie exhales the smoke he was holding in, head feeling even fuzzier than before. It’s nice.

  Despite popular belief, Eddie doesn’t get high often. Nothing against smoking, he’d just already gone through the phase of constantly being high and it lost its novelty. Been there, done that. 

  Now, he only really smokes with you, more so to relax and enjoy rather than to get high out of his fucking mind and unlock an ability to understand animals or some shit. No, Eddie just likes to use it as another way to bond with you.

  Eddie’s an affectionate person, he’s aware. He’d been starved for affection as a child after his mom died and his dad could barely clap him on the shoulder, he was doomed to crave it in his relationships. Always the Romantic in them, even if it left him the fool in the end.

  Despite many ends, he never stopped. Maybe he held back a little, but never fully stopped. Always wanting to tuck someone into his side, moon over them, map his kisses out over sweet smelling skin, and even sweeter tasting lips that would later scorn him with hurtful words when he inevitably proved to be too much or too little.

  Then you’d come into his life. You’d been present for a lot of it, a background character if you will. Sometimes sharing the same friends, sometimes exchanging pleasant greetings and maybe a short interaction. 

  Eddie thinks about one, in particular. He thinks about it a lot. 

  It had taken place at a nice little kickback with Harrington and co. Just a tight knit group of friends, some closer than others. Eddie had his then-girlfriend at his side, an arm slung over her shoulder as he conversed with your then-boyfriend, who you’d attended the event with. The conversation had been pleasant but lacking any genuine common interests or passion, until you spoke up, from your place in his arms, in defense of Michael Jackson’s discography.

  Eddie enjoyed all kinds of music, dabbled in it, and while he didn't despise Top 40 music, it did become repetitive so he didn’t listen to it often himself. 

  After that night, and a heated debate on whether or not songs being overplayed meant it took away from the brilliance of them—Eddie found himself ducking into the local music store to pick up a tape of Dangerous.

  That had been the first night he used weed for the sole purpose of enhancing an experience. It had also been the night he’d acknowledged his current relationship would not be ending with wedding bells, which granted he’d already known prior, but since it was you plaguing his mind that night (and every night after) and not her, he knew it’d have to end sooner rather than later—lest he wish to be the douche that longs for another instead of his girlfriend.

  Eddie’s hands trail along your skin, a little prickly from re-growing hair but that kind of turns him on. It’s definitely the weed hyping up his senses, your skin is so fucking soft and pliable. You’re always so delicious, he just wants to bite you.

  So, he does.

  You jolt awake with an Ow! and a laugh once you’d realize what had disturbed you from your nap. Eddie grins, barking out a laugh as you sit up and swat his arm. You don’t have to rub over the bite mark on your leg, Eddie’s already doing that for you before he yanks you by it even closer, until he’s pulling you onto his lap, lips searing against yours. He never has to hold back with you.

  You hum against his mouth, a hand moving to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and he sighs as he melts.

  Amongst the crickets and the cicadas, Eddie swears he can also hear wedding bells.

[skulla-rxcks]

Werewolf in heat 👣🐺

Paring: werewolf!Chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut, werewolf au

Warnings: slight blood, pain

Day 22 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

It’s a warm night in spring, perfect weather to take a stroll outside and get some fresh air. I sigh and grab my coat, putting it over my shoulders before sticking my arms in the holes. There’s a bag next to the door already so I decide to take that with me. I slide my feet into some boots that were next to the bag. As soon as I’m read i decide to have one last check at my coat and bag, making sure I have everything I need to take with me just incase. “Fucking hell..” I mumble frustrated under my breath, realising that I forgot to pack my phone. I leave my bag at the door as i quickly run back to my room, bolting inside and frantically looking for my phone, i find it next to my bed on the little wooden table next to it. Relieved from finally finding my phone i make my way out of my room and back to the corridor .

I open the door and let out a groan, relaxed as I feel the cold air hit my face, it cools me down instantly.

Taking a step outside and shutting the door behind me I begin my little midnight adventure off into the forest. It’s really dark tonight. i can see a few stars up in the sky, not many though, only around 6 or so. I keep walking on the path until I reach the beginning of the sea of trees. I look behind me as I continue walking, slowly watching the street light get smaller and smaller as I walk into the abyss that is the forest. The sound of crickets chirping fill my ears. I grab my phone out of my bag and put it’s torch on so I can see where I’m going and what’s nearby. I’ve walked here in the dark before, only once though so I’m still not perfect around the area I’m in, still. I’m not a complete stranger to it.

I Lift my phone up slightly, noticing there’s a lake futher in the forest, I decide to make my way there, hoping to watch the moon line shine on the water. I continue deeper down the path until I reach the shimmering water, sparkling from the beautiful moon above it. I gasp at the site, sitting down on a nearby log as I watch and listen to the beautiful sounds of nature. As I’m watching the water I see something on the other side of the lake, staring at me. I’m not sure what it is but it’s shaped like a wolf. I wonder what it wants from me?

Either way, It feels like the temperature is getting warmer over here, might as well take a little dip in the fresh water in lake, I slide my boots off and dip my feet in, feeling the cool water on my skin. My eyes look at the spot where the wolf was out of pure curiosity. There’s something there, in the exact same place the wolf was, but this time it’s not a wolf, it’s a guy. Maybe he’s just wondering what I’m doing at this time of night? I decide to ignore it. It’s getting later I should probably be on my way and heading back home right now, I tell myself.

I step out of the water and dry my feet on the grass before proceeding to put my shoes back on. I grab my bag and phone and start heading off, I’m so damn ready to pass out on my bed and just get a good nights sleep.

As I start walking on the path I see a shadow in the corner of my eye, I stop and look around, noticing nothings there. I try to ignore it and keep walking but the sound of movement only starts again, following me. “H-hello?” I call out feeling the fear developing Inside me. “Is anyone there?” I repeat. No answer, not even a single noise after I call out. “Hey.. T-this isn’t f-funny..!” I mumble as I feel the hairs on my body begin to stand up as well as goosebumps beginning to form on my skin.

I begin to walk again but this time I feel something or someone touch me, something touched my shoulder, almost like it was trying to scare me before but instead this time it is trying to get my attention. I turn around and look up, it’s the same man that was staring at me from across the lake, but this time he has wolf ears and tail for some reason. “Uhm..” I whimper, confused at whatever the fucks going on and who this strange being is.

“Shh.. you saw it didn’t you? You saw my other form..” the man mutters, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind a tree. “I.. uh, yes.. yes I did..” I plea at his words, clearly begging for mercy. “Mouth shut.” He demands, snapping his fingers. “I won’t hurt you unless you help me out here, yeah?” A smirk begins to form on his face making his ears twitch too. “W-what do you need sir?” A whimper comes out of my mouth as I see how he’s acting, I don’t know what he wants to do to me, but I’ll agree to anything just so he doesn’t kill me and feast on my flesh off of my rotting corpse.

“I’m in heat.” The guy says. “W-what?” I respond, cleary flustered at the situation that’s been brought upon me. “I said I’m in heat.” He repeats. “So.. w-what do you.. uh, want me to do a-about it?” My cheeks turn red. “I need you to let me fuck you.” He growls, grabbing my shirt and pushing me against the tree. “May I?” He asks, licking his lips while looking down at my clothed body. “Y-yes sir..” I mutter out, looking at his face as he begins to rip my clothes open with his sharp claws. “Call me Chan.” He looks back up into my eyes, glaring at me as he pulls my panties and shorts down. “Fuck you look tight.. it’s gonna hurt.” Chan lets down his boxers, pulling his cock out groaning as he pushes into my tight and wet cunt.

“C-chan…” I whimper and wrap my legs around his waist, my feet stroking hid tail as he begins to pump in and out of my hole. “Shit your cunt feels so fucking good, bunny...” he growls into my ear, biting onto my neck. He brings one of his hands up to my chest and squeezes my breast, digging his claws into it making me moan in pain as small beads of blood pop out of my skin.

“Ahhha…. Channie!” More moans come out of my mouth as Chan starts Fucking me more roughy now, sinking his teeth into my neck as he does so. “Mmgh.. o-ow..” I cry out, my legs tightening around his waist as I buck my hips forward slightly, trying to get more of his dick. “even your blood is so good..” Chan groans, his teeth hitting the top of a vein in my neck due to how deep he’s sucking my blood. “Chan.. s-Slow down I’ll.. I’m gonna… I’ll cum!!” I beg him and let him know I’m near my limit. “Do it. Cum for me.” He demands, filling me up with his cum as I squirt around his cock. Chan pulls out of me and gently places me on the grass next to the tree he was pounding me up against.

“Fuck.. thank you so much, bunny. You didn’t know how god damn badly I needed that.” He lets out a massive sigh, slipping his boxers back on before heading off and going back into the bushes.

I guess I’ll have to walk home with just panties on now while a werewolf’s cum is dripping out of me.

[vidavalor]

The Blitz, The B-Side and Baraqiel

Another post in a series about how "The Metatron" in the Final 15 is actually Satan.

This also contains a smidge of requested stuff on Baraqiel, who will get a full meta soon when I'm done with ramblings about The Devil.

The B-Side. Song featured on the other side of a record for another song.

"Peggy Sue." 1957 hit song by Buddy Holly & the Crickets. As mentioned to Aziraphale by Maggie in S2, "Everyday" is the B-Side from the "Peggy Sue" single.

"Everyday." Maggie keeps sending records to The Resurrectionist pub for their jukebox and they send her back copies of "Everyday" because Gabriel's miracle for Beez turns every record they play into that song.

When Maggie turns one of the records over-- the one she gives to Aziraphale-- both sides of the record are "Everyday." The "Peggy Sue" B-Side does not exist because Gabriel has eliminated it from being played at the pub in question, which generates "Peggy Sue"-free records as a result. We'll see a little later in this meta how Gabriel actually told us in 1.01 that he's got no time for "Peggy Sue"...

"Everyday" = The Gabriel and Beez positive ending in S2. Choosing true love and to be with that one particular person who makes everything better.

But it's the B-side to...

"Peggy Sue" = um, not "Everyday"-- more the opposite of that-- as outlined below:

Peggy. Nickname for Margaret.

Sue. Nickname for Susan, the root meaning of which is roses of Sharon.

Greta. Shortened version of Margareta. Derived from Margaret.

Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt... aka Captain Rose Montgomery ="Peggy Sue".

Marguerite's. French restaurant on Whickber St. Name means "Margaret" in French. Covered in roses. Making it also "Peggy Sue" and tying The Blitz, Part 1's Greta/Rose conflict directly to 2.06's Metatron/Devil conversation at Marguerite's.

Marguerite's is run by and likely owned by Justine. It is the location of both Crowley and Aziraphale's smitten would-be date conversation while it was open and, while it was closed, Aziraphale's conversation with "The Metatron."

It is where Aziraphale is tempted by "The Metatron"-- who is really on the opposite "side" from what he appears to be. He is not really "the Rose" but "the Greta"-- The Devil.

Bara. Japanese for "rose", in a pejorative sense (similar to the English "pansy".)

Baraqiel... aka Crowley. Pictured above at Marguerite's beside a romantic red rose. The actual anti-fascist involved in 1941 and still in the present and whose side Aziraphale should choose. Greta is a spy pretending to be Rose but Rose doesn't really exist; Crowley is a demon who pretends to be an angel whose name partially means "Rose"... and Crowley and Aziraphale both found out together long ago that the demons can still do angelic miracles so, for all intents and purposes, Baraqiel is real.

In S1, Aziraphale is the self-proclaimed "*the* Southern pansy." In S2, Crowley's B-side fake angel identity of Baraqiel is revealed and part of the etymology there relates to roses.

Justine. Means "just" and "fair." When Marguerite's is open, Justine is there, which relates to that sense of what is right and good and true. Crowley and Aziraphale are at Marguerite's together in S2 when it is open. Their relationship is right and true and fair and good. Aziraphale talks there with "The Metatron" when the restaurant is closed and Justine is nowhere to be found. No Justine and the closed restaurant = foreboding as all fuck.

Marguerite's. Justine's restaurant, where, as we've said, Crowley and Aziraphale met during its open hours. Means "of-- or belong to--Margaret" in French.

French. Aziraphale can't get decent crepes anywhere outside of Paris. And the brioche. And the oui est la plume de la jardiniere de ma tante? flirting outside Marguerite's in S2. C'est si romantique...

Margaret. Means "pearl." Pearls are the rare jewels found in oysters. Like the ones Crowley and Aziraphale went out for in Rome on the day they also first shared some oysters.

Montgomery. Captain Rose Montgomery, the B-side fake identity of Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt. Mont from the Latin for "mountain" and the rest from the Greek "gomari"-- meaning "to load"/"to carry a load or a pack while climbing/man carrying a pack." Means "mountain-climbing person."

"Climb Every Mountain." The Big Damn Song from 'The Sound of Music'. God's favorite tune and the corporate mandate of Heaven, the inhabitants of which do not understand this message or live these values at all. Crowley and Aziraphale get the themes of this musical but seem to have yet to figure out how much they are like the lead characters or that they're in a story that partially parallels this musical.

Maggie. Nickname for (and name derived from) Margaret. Shares a root name with Greta.

Greta. Witnessed Crowley turn up to protect Aziraphale in the church, in a scene in which had matrimonial undertones. Her recruiting of Aziraphale-- that relationship-- prompted Crowley into a romantic gesture.

"...American expression-- played for suckers!" and Aziraphale's gasp at the reveal of Rose as Greta. This all happened *before* Crowley came into the scene. Crowley then confirmed that the trio were "a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies" and that Greta was not really British intelligence.

Maggie. Her talk with Crowley-- which she talked Nina into doing-- prompts Crowley into something circling close to a proposal before it all went off the rails.

"...human expression-- hold that thought!" and Aziraphale's gasp at the reveal by Crowley that the being who had arrived was The Metatron. Crowley, as we'll look at in another meta, is the one who actually helps "the Greta" of this scene hide his identity-- against his will... the mirrored opposite of 1941.

Sister Margareta. The sweet but kind of empty-headed nun that defends Maria during "(How Do You Solve a Problem Like) Maria" in 'The Sound of Music'. As all the other nuns are bashing Maria to The Mother Abbess and saying that she doesn't have what it takes to be a nun, Sister Margareta sings that she'd "like to say a word on her behalf/Maria/makes me/laugh."

Gabriel. Sister Margareta.

Gabriel is Margareta-- is Margaret, is a Peggy. Crowley is Baraqiel-- is Rose, is a Sue. So, Gabriel and Crowley together = our third example of a Peggy Sue scenario. The conflict of Aziraphale between Gabriel or a statue of Gabriel-- representing Heaven-- and Crowley... visually represented in the sushi scene (Crowley presence in significant absence) and in 1827, etc...

Also, just for those who watched Mad Men and think the idea of "Don" being "a Peggy" is fun because Don Draper and Peggy Olson were two peas in a pod...

Back to Good Omens... and over to Gabriel's first scene. So, what famously doesn't our favorite nun Sister Margareta aka Jimbriel do?

Aziraphale-- and the audience-- might not realize it at first but Gabriel is actually not really pointing at the sushi in this scene... at least not exclusively. He doesn't actually comment on the sushi at all, even when it's what Aziraphale defends. What's grossing out The Supreme Archangel here is the tea. The tea is at what Gabriel is pointing when he says "that" and on what he remarks when he tells us what he does not do as a character:

"I do not sully the celestial temple of my body with... rose matter."

The "Rose Matter." The "Peggy Sue" conflict. Aziraphale's core conflict of being a good angel versus being a good person and how his love for Crowley is at the nexus of all of that. First alluded to in the sushi scene. Gabriel informs us right at the start that he'll be peacing out of all of that nonsense lol-- he doesn't give enough of a fuck to be all that concerned as to what their abusers think of them and he'll be around later to teach Aziraphale how to drink far less of "the tea"-- what people say-- at some point. He doesn't quite yet get his own role in why Aziraphale does at that point in 1.01 but he'll start to as a result of S2.

Finally, there's that Gabriel just thinks tea itself-- the beverage-- is disgusting, setting Gabriel up for his hot chocolate orgasm in S2. He's going to "dump the tea in the harbor" in S2 as the resident "American" angel, after all. No "Peggy Sue" pining rose-related shit for Gabriel, thanks-- just "Everyday."

But also...

Rose Matter. Rose petals. Components of rose tea. Gabriel's comment tells us what Aziraphale ordered to drink at the sushi restaurant in 1.01, when he was supposed to meet Baraqiel for dinner. Who is Crowley. Ya know, this Crowley...

...ooh la la, Aziraphale...

Gabriel does not sully the celestial temple of his body with rose matter but Aziraphale consumes all sorts of-- ahem, right, anyway! this was about The Devil lol...

Kleinschmidt. Klein = "small". Greta is a small person-- she is not empathetic, not kind, not forward-thinking. "Schmidt" = "smith", as a blacksmith/metalworker. Someone who makes tools. Kleinschmidt = Small toolmaker.

"And you will be a tool of that glorious destiny." What Hastur tells Crowley in 1.01 when he tells him that Satan has picked him to usher Armageddon and the demonic victory the demons assume will happen.

Toolmaker. The Devil. Kleinschmidt. Small toolmaker. Greta is "the little devil"-- the small plot that both foreshadows and sets up the big one with The Devil himself.

A church. Where the Nazis meet Aziraphale in 1941. Its pastor is nowhere to be found and its altar has been claimed by Nazis, who are planning to murder Aziraphale in this church. A "holy" place that seems of Heaven (the side of "good", supposedly, not really) but is actually evil.

"The Metatron." The being to whom Aziraphale speaks in the Final 15 of 2.06. Seems of Heaven. Actually The Devil.

First little mini post on this topic:

[envious-dior]

SKIN CARE SCIENTIST HEADCANONS

headcanons if you, a scientist, were apart of grace augustine’s team and managed to score not one, not two, but THREE hotties !! (tsu’tey, neytiri and our favorite colonizer, jake !!)

i will format this properly and prettily LATER

i have HEADCANONS and THOTS and they need to be released

that’s so emo of me tehe !!! “released”

okay back to one of my previous posts about YOU (but not really you, it’s just an OC without a name really) being on augustine’s team and literally only being there for skincare purposes

you bedazzled your name tag, you have a pink lab coat and bedazzled goggles !!! queen shit

its actually hilarious bc you probably only got recruited after writing a compliant about her book on botany bc it didn’t have the properties on how it does with human skin, is it a natural moisturizer or sunscreen or what auggie ???

and that somehow got you recruited

you are always talking back and need to have the last word she HATES you

jake on the other ??? y’all are BESTIES. he ADORES you to pieces

you call him “meals on wheels” after hearing lyle make a comment about it (again) bc you thought it was hilarious. you are the only he doesn’t mind hearing it from !!

anyways you and jake are besties from day one !!

this will be a fic one day and bc i self project, you now have curly hair (you are tender headed like me :(( )

you are FLABBERGASTED when your avatar has straight hair bro you are LIVID

you went on a rant for like five minutes after seeing your avatar and jake literally went heart eyes on you, baby boy has been crushing since DAY ONE

you, on the other hand, have not !!

he adores it when you complain. you complain a lot.

youre probably a privileged kid, you hate bugs, but adore the floral life of pandora. you are literally sobbing on your uncomfortable bed as you hear, whatever pandora adjacent of a cricket is, making noise near your ears you are trembling and you are complaining to anyone who will listen

jake is listening and has definitely killed more bugs than he could count

you are there when jake runs away to play with the flowers !!

and you look hot, auggie (grace augustine, you call her auggie) forbade you from wearing your skirts but you have jean shirts, a blouse tucked in or whatever, your killing shir !! girl boss girl queen !!

jake decides to fucking KILL YALL but taunting wild animals

you hate white men

you do not have an athletic bone in your body, you are literally whining and he’s telling you to stfu.

do you listen ??? no absolutely not, why listen to a white boy who was in the military ?? there is no good reason too !!!

yea Neytiri hates the absolute both of yall when she’s stalking y’all

you are also going heart eyes on her, as well as jake . jake type of people is people who are way out of his league apparently, or rich heirs(heiresses)

jakes trying to flirt while you’re absolutely silent bc lordy lord SHES SO PRETTY !!!

she had a symmetrical face, wide doe eyes and pretty lips you literally don’t stop thinking about her features, she’s so pretty you cannot look away

she thinks ur the fucking weirdest bro

but tsu’tey ??? TSU’TEY ???

you love a man whose holding a literal blade to your queue !!!! jake has an awkward hard on he doesn’t know whether to be jealous of you or tsu’tey

in this au ?? POLY RELATIONSHIPS RAAAAAAAAH

your probably semi-fluent in navi bc… ur actually meant to be on pandora lol

you tug on jake’s ear when he tries to approach etyukan (??? idk how to spell his name yall sorry) and now ensures a mini argument between the two of you

"JACOB CAN YOU FUCKING NOT—”

i wholeheartedly believe in jake sully’s full name being jacob timothy sully

it’s just right i cannot explain it he looks like a jacob timothy sully

ur mini dispute is only interrupted by mo’at whose touching all over you

you ??? heart eyes. you love her voice, the way she speaks, how she pronounces certain words !!!

i love mo’at and her voice she’s amazing she’s everything to me

she probably hates you

“im apart of the jarhead clan 🤓” you are stifling GIGGLED

BECAUSE THATS SO STUPID ??? ITS STUPID !!

you explain that ur a scientist, but ur not just any scientist, youre a cool scientist !! skincare RAAAAAH !!

they are not impressed with you. tsu’tey, who you decided that you will marry one day, is snorting at your words and calls you an idiot.

you are HEARTBROKEN

jake is now stifling his own giggles

he doesn’t laugh he GIGGLES he’s my lil meowmeow

mo’at decides neytiri will have to teach jake and you their ways, you are definitely complaining bc you can’t run without bursting a lung but she shoots you a look and you instantly quiet down

because it’s mo’at if she tells me to stfu, im shutting the fuck up what can i say

neytiri has to deal with two dimbasses and tsu’tey laughs until mo’at decides he’s also helping

PLOT TWIST !!!

yea that’s all i got im so tired imma head to sleep yall goodnight

[historia-vitae-magistras]

4, 14 or 25 for Jack?

4) What they would do if they had one month to live. 

I can't answer that because the lad is immortal lmao.

14) How they did in school

Poorly. Jack is the definition of 'does not do well in authoritarian institutional settings.' He did very well one on one with his uncles or his father or the many, many intellectuals who visited australia and impressed upon him his absolute adoration of natural history, botany and the natural science at large. He also did pretty well in university after everyone calmed the fuck down post-war, but his actual early education? Oh god, he did not do well. Like the only running theme I can see about children born in Australia in the British schools was pure unadulterated misery.

He got the shit bullied out of him the one or two times Arthur tried sending him to one of the 'public' schools like Eton or Harrow. He was a clumsy child, and before the era when sports became a mainstay of the Anglophone school systems, it was just open season on the poor fuck. He probably would have done better later when rugby or cricket was a part of the public school culture. Still, as it was back then, in a rigid hierarchy with corporal punishment and freezing dormitories, he was absolutely fucking miserable. He got into fights constantly, didn't eat, couldn't adjust and cried himself to sleep for however long he was stuck in there before one of his letters actually got where it needed to be, and he got the fuck out.

Jack has never held a good relationship with institutions, being born in what was an extension of the British prison system and he rages against confinement too this day but his schooling was a large part of that. It also made it a lot harder for him to bond with anyone from the ruling classes and kind of firmly put him in the realm of the privileged sav blanc socialist and labour organizer. Bit ironic for the born-in-the-purple son of the British Empire but it suits him and the history so I'm rolling with it.

25) What other people wish they could change about them

God help me. I love this boy but thats a lot. I think for Zee its a lot of wishing he wasn't so fucking reckless or distractable for one. She's crossed thousands of kilometres to drag his ass out of a deadly situation. She wishes he was a bit less in her space sometimes. He's very physically affectionate, and she's not so much. She doesn't always like being picked up and squeezed randomly because he's emotional. He has gotten better about that but sometimes he still gets good news and suddenly she's in the air against her will. He also tends to get extremely salty about people in better circumstances than him especially if its something he doesn't think they deserve. He has something of a hard time apologizing to anyone who's not her. He's also extremely bad at keeping anything on the down low. Arthur had to prevent him from being prosecuted for various queer activities when he was younger because he tried to quash it down until it exploded. And Zee probably threatened to kill more than one person after he was very unaware of his giving googly eyed looks to every pretty greek in sight.

[sokkastyles]

Soooo, life happened and I didn't get as much writing done as I wanted to get done. I don't have a finished fic to bring today but I do have a short sneak peek at what I've been working on for @zkmythicalcreaturesweek Day 2: Werewolves and Vampires. I plan to post the actual finished fic eventually.

Sort of loosely based on the videogame The Quarry.

As the evening grew long and cool, Katara followed Zuko up the hill, pausing when she spotted a patch of purple fireweed and kneeling down to snap off the stems, to use later. If she were with a group of campers, then she might have stopped to use this as a teaching moment, to talk about the old ways of her tribe, to discuss the plant’s uses and to thank the earth for its blessings. Fireweed meant life was returning to a place. When the flowers went to seed, it meant summer was finally over. They still had some time, yet.

Zuko stopped and turned to watch her.

"You know, I always envied the way everything was so sacred to you. I don't have that."

"Yeah, you do," she said, thinking of the way he looked during his xiaolin classes with the kids. How happy, like he'd forgotten the rest of the world existed. “The kids love you. That. That’s sacred. And you love them, too. And this place. That’s why you keep coming here.”

"Nah," Zuko shook his head. "I just had to get the fuck away from my dad's house. That's what those summers meant to me. Like an escape." He punctuated the last word by breaking an overhanging branch that obscured the path ahead and tossed it several yards into the trees.

Katara thought about the summer he didn't get away.

It was the summer after sixth grade, when the girls’ and boys’ cabins came together at dinner on the first night. Zuko was nowhere to be seen for the first time since she'd started coming here every summer since she’d been eight. She'd been glad, then, that she didn't have to deal with Zuko trying to compete with her in sparring and fencing and canoeing that summer. All summer free of his arrogant bragging and volatile temper.

Then the next summer he'd returned, more arrogant and angry than ever, with that scar on his face.

Katara looked away from him. "It's getting dark."

She wasn't sure when her feelings towards Zuko had started to change, when he'd stopped being competition, stopped being that bratty kid, and started being something else.

Neither of them were kids anymore, and seeing Zuko with the campers this morning had made that clear, too. Zuko was one of the rocks here at camp, one of the best councilors she'd ever met. He cared about the kids, and this place, no matter what he said.

She wondered, as she followed his retreating back down the path towards camp, if her feelings had something to do with guilt about that summer. She didn't know the details about the scar that covered most of the left side of his face, but she did know Zuko was telling the truth when he said his home life had been bad. That situation had gotten better, at least. Was it his uncle that he and his sister lived with now? She couldn’t really remember, and that was when she realized that she didn’t really know Zuko, not as well as she should.

Part of her still felt responsible for how much she had hated him when they were kids. Even though it didn't matter. Even though Zuko had clearly forgotten.

Ahead of her on the path, Zuko froze, his body poised perfectly still. "Did you hear that?" He said, almost like a whisper.

Katara could hear the faint rustling of branches as a light breeze tousled Zuko’s hair. The sounds of crickets, heralds for the coming night. Nothing else.

"N-" But then she did hear it. A long, low howl, somewhere in the distance.

[thewitchqueenofharrenhal]

So let me get this straight fandom will attack and bash Robb sansa and other children characters but no one can bash rhaenyra sons because they were children for mutilating aemond ??? The hypocrisy

This fandom is deranged but like would it be possible if we didn’t bash the child characters and tried to view stuff from their childlike perspective? Lmao.

I think the problem here is just like you said the hypocrisy in people refusing to just not be deranged and view characters they hate fairly? Like stop acting like Aemond received a minor injury and needs to *get over it*.

He was maimed, his life was effectively over. He was mutilated, moments after what was supposed to be the best day of his life. He will never be the same again because of the attack he received….followed by the trauma of his dad effectively not giving a fuck, his sister calling for him to be further tortured, and his mother being publicly humiliated and screamed/threatened at by his father for the crime of giving a fuck about him.

Like that’s fucking vile af? Lmao I would personally never get over it? And I would absolutely hold a grudge forever? It makes sense for the character, anyone who claims they would just *get over* being effectively ganged up on and then maimed is lying and purposely being obtuse.

People like to self insert into main characters though and thus cannot have empathy for characters they dislike. It’s hypocrisy to its core, Aemond is viewed harshly for disrespecting Laena’s memory but it’s *crickets* when discussing adult Daemon laughing at Laena’s funeral, or Rhaenyra sleeping with Daemon the same night of Laena’s funeral? That’s not disrespectful?

Or the outrage people feel over Adult Alicent attacking Adult Rhaenyra and injuring her arm while once again demanding that Aemond just get *over* his *not that big of a deal injury*

Like Y’all are not serious people lmao.

In reference to Lucery maiming Aemond I actually don’t blame him lol. He was a child, he saw that despite the best attempts of himself, his brother and his two cousins, they could not over power Aemond and very possibly since (hello) he’s a child truly believed Aemond would hurt his brother. He was trying to defend him and defend his life.

The big issue for Lucerys was the fact that he received no {normal} punishment from the adults in his life like Rhaenyra, Viserys, Laenor, Corlys, etc. Giving off the implication to child Lucerys that he did nothing wrong. Which like fair it was an accident but he still maimed someone, he needed to be fairly punished for changing someone’s life forever even a simple apology would have made a huge difference. (We also later see teenage Lucerys laughing in teenage Aemond’s face for the childhood bullying they inflicted on him- not a very good character trait I’d say but once again a fault taught by his parental figures)

Ultimately the blame for what occurred at Driftmark falls on : Viserys, Rhaenyra, Daemon, Alicent, Laenor and to some degree Rhaenys & Corlys. All of the children should have been fairly disciplined as well.

[jadedlavendergemini]

In the night

Summary: Eddie visits you at the cabin.

TW: none just fluff

——————————————————————————

The November night is cold and wet in Hawkins tonight, especially out in Pinewoods. The sound of crickets and other creatures can be heard in the wind just outside your family’s cabin.

You grown familiar with this cabin over the past year. Sure it was old and definitely not updated like your previous house was, but sure was cozy on nights like tonight.

El was in her room using the phone to speak with Mike for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. Your father was snoozing in his recliner right in front of the television.

You, however, were spending the evening alone in your room reading through a magazine lended to you by Nancy and listening to your radio that sat on its usual spot on top of your dresser.

Humming gently to the lyrics of Duran Duran, you rolled over to your back, magazine still gripped in your hands. All was normal, until you hear a small click coming from your window.

You tilt your head away from the magazine to look at your window, which is covered by your curtains. Shrugging, you return back to reading.

Probably just a bird or something

Then you hear it again. And a few seconds after that.

Slowly, you abandon the magazine and stand from your bed. You take your time walking to the window and hesitate before moving the curtains out of the way.

It’s too dark to see anything but when a hand appears on the window, you nearly let out a shout, slapping a hand to your mouth. Your heart rate was racing in shock up until you see a familiar face appear just seconds later.

Eddie Munson.

The jackass had just scared the shit out of you and had the nerve to be smiling.

You let out a breath of relief before moving back to the window and unlocking it. You struggled a bit trying to raise the old panels but managed to finally open it.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Eddie.” You growled, the pounding of your heart slowly returning to its normal pace.

“Hey beautiful,” he ignores your irritated tone. “What are you up to on this fine evening?”

“Well I was enjoying my night, but then I thought I was going to be killed by Jason!”

“Vorhees or Carver?”

“Fuck you.”

He lets out a small laugh before looking around. “Looks cozy in there,”

“It is.” You deadpan.

“Can I come in?” He’s bouncing slightly on his feet, trying to keep warm as the wind blows through his long, untamed locks.

You smirked. “How did you even know this was my room?”

“I didn’t, I just guessed.” He replied, hands moving into his jacket pockets.

“Your lucky this wasn’t my dad’s room.”

Eddie let’s out a laugh. “Oh great, I could’ve died. But seriously sweetheart, it’s freezing out here!”

You eventually moved out of the way for him to climb his way in. Quietly as possible, he lands firmly inside and you move to close the window.

“Try to be quiet, my dad is just in the other room.” You remind him.

Turning around, you see him looking around curiously. He had never actually been inside your home before now.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, not that you didn’t mind seeing him, but you worried about Hop seeing him. The man would murder him.

He’s now going through the pile of tapes next to your radio. “What? Can’t just sneak by and visit my girlfriend who happens to live in the middle of the woods?”

You smile. “I didn’t mean to sound like I don’t want you around,”

“I know, I know.” He turns around to face you. “You’re just in shock that I actually care enough to sneak past your old man. How is the old grumpy teddy bear these days?”

You roll your eyes at the mention of the nickname you had given your dad. “Still grumpy,”

You stand there under his gaze, you had almost forgotten that you were dressed in your pajamas, which made you self consciously wrap your arms around yourself.

“I uh, made you a new mixtape. Just wanted to drop it off myself.” He moves forward and pulls a tape from his jacket pocket.

You two had started exchanging mixtapes. Not for any specific reason other than to get to know each other’s music tastes.

“Eddie,” you blush, accepting the tape. “Another one? What’s your plan? To turn me into a full blown metal head like you?”

“Absolutely!” He laughs. “But seriously, I really liked the last one you gave me, so I kinda felt like I owed you another one.”

You can’t help but raise your brows, eyes widen in surprise. “You actually listened to it.”

“Of course I did, sweetheart. What did you think I was gonna do? Throw it out.”

“Honestly I thought you’d skip around the tape and call it a day.” You said, taking a step closer, having to now look up into his eyes. “Did the Eddie Munson actually sit through three Abba songs?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush, slightly looking away for a moment. “Yes, I did. I can proudly say that I know three Abba songs now.” He slowly moves towards your bed before falling onto it and pulling himself up to rest on one elbow. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that Gimme Gimme is your favorite.”

You shake your head and smile. “Second favorite. If it wasn’t for the night takes first.”

He falls back fully into the old mattress, hands covering his face and hair spread widely over the quilt. “Wow! Nowhere near close.”

You move to take a seat next to him and lean down slightly. “What others did you like?”

He uncovers his his to look back into yours. “I thought the Queen one was actually really good.”

“Really? After all that bad mouthing Freddie Mercury, I’m shocked. Which one? Radio Gaga?”

He slowly moves to sit up, his face closer to yours now.

“I actually really enjoyed Love of My Life,” he says, voice low.

You give a small smile as he closes the space between the two of you. His lips soft against yours, the kisses starting off as pecks but soon blossoming into more.

Before you know it, you’re laying flat on your back, arms wrapped around his neck and your hands playing with his dark curls. Eddie rests one of his hands on the bed as to not squish you and his other resting on your waist.

In the other room, Jim squints his eyes against the bright illumination of the old television set. Looking to his watch, he sits the recliner up and slowly lifts himself off the chair.

He makes his way to El’s room first to find her already dozed off in her bed. Her quilt covering only her feet, phone receiver still resting in her hand.

He gently removes the receiver from her hand and places it back onto the set and moves to pull the quilt up and cover the girl. He flicks the light off on his way out of the room.

On his way to your room, he can see the lights still shining from underneath your door. The doors to the bedrooms of the cabin had no locks so he reminds himself to respect your privacy and knocks gently.

You and Eddie are too distracted with each other that you don’t hear the first knock. You’re giggling like an idiot when he moves his kisses from your lips to your jawline.

Then you heard the second round of knocking. Your eyes grow wide, hands moving quickly to Eddie’s shoulders. He obviously didn’t hear it.

“Y/n, are you up?” Jim’s voice clear as day through the wooden door. Eddie’s head shoots straight up and you push him off.

“Y-yeah I’m awake.” You reply. You and Eddie panic as he slips off from your bed and looks around wildly around for a hiding spot.

“Can I come in?” Your father asks.

“NO! I m-mean I’m changing! Give me a second!” You don’t have a closet so no hiding him in there, you think about re-opening the window for an escape but you fear he will hear squeaking sound from that.

“Oh! The bed! Get under the bed!” You whisper harshly and begin to frantically shove your boyfriend towards your bed.

“Can’t I just go back out the window?” he asks, clearly terrified of your father.

“No! He’ll hear the window opening! Just go!” You continue to shove him towards the bed. He finally drops and shimmies his way beneath the bed. You pull the quilt slightly towards the end of the bed to keep Eddie from being seen.

“Y/n,” you hear father’s voice again. You race to open the door where you find your father staring back at you, eye brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” you try to lean into your door to appear casual. “What’s up.”

“What was all that noise just now?”

“What noise?”

“Just now. It sounded like you were hopping around in there.” His arms cross and you know you’re going to have to play stupid.

“That was me,” you answer, moving to lean off your door. “I was changing, remember?”

Jim looks like he wants to question you further but decides against it, it’s too late for the shit.

“It’s ten o clock, El’s in bed and I’m going next. Lights out, kid.”

“Okay, yeah sure.” You say, waiting for him to leave. Finally, he eventually rolls his eyes and leaves.

Once he is out of sight, you gently close your door and wait a few more seconds just to be sure he doesn’t question you further. When you’re met with silence, you move back to the bed and move the quilt up.

“You can come out now,” you say quietly.

“I feel like he’s going to come back,” Eddie’s response causes you to crack a smile.

“He’s not and you can’t spend the night under my bed.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” He chuckles, slowly rolling out from underneath the mattress. “Kinda cozy under there.”

You moved back to window and slowly pried it back open. You’re met with a gust of cold wind and you feel bad about having Eddie leave. Hopefully he’s parked nearby.

“As much as I love the idea of you spending the night, I think you need to go before my dad actually catches you in here.”

Eddie nods, standing up from the floor and making his way over to you. You don’t have a moment to react before he wraps his arms around you and dips his lips back onto your yours.

You question constantly what you have done right in life to deserve someone as sweet as Eddie Munson. The boy who snuck into your room to hand deliver you a mixtape or give you rides home from school. The boy who treated you ever so kindly when you too, have been treated terribly in the past.

When you finally pull away from each other, he moves back towards the window. Just when he’s out the window, he turns back to you, shoving his hand back into his pockets.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You just shrug, leaning out the window. “Nothing, I don’t think.”

“My uncle Wayne has the night off and I was hoping you might like to have dinner with us?” He asks. “I know I haven’t met your old man yet, but I mentioned you and now my uncle is nuts about meeting you. You can say no, I don’t expect you to-“

“Sure.”

Eddie smiles brightly and nods. “Okay then. Can I pick you up?”

“Normal spot.”

“Normal spot.” He confirms.

You watch as he disappears into the woods and close your window.

——————————————————————————

I starting writing this during a slow day at work and couldn’t stop until it was finished. I hope you liked it!

[detectivechandler]

 WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE : Clean, is how someone would first describe it (and he would be completely satisfied with that answer), but if pressed they would start to remember the subtle scents that hover around the nose when in close proximity to Joe. There's the typical underlying smell of soap, though specifics on just what the scent is are hard to pinpoint. Something sharp and clean, like the edge of a table freshly wiped down with antiseptic ... and over it all there's the tickle of camphor and menthol thanks to Joe's liberal use of tiger balm. His suits smell as if they are fresh from the dry cleaners (spoiler alert: they are) and though he does wear eau de parfum (tom ford, and yes the distinction from cologne is important), it is a subtle scent and does not last for more than eight hours. He usually applies it last thing before leaving in the mornings and the smell has more often than not faded by noon. He prefers it this way and believes that its as essential to a good morning as freshly brushed teeth.

HOW THEY SLEEP ( position, schedule, etc. ) :  though his sleep schedule can often get interrupted due to long ranging murder cases, he tries his best to stick to something consistent. His ideal schedule involves being in bed no later than midnight and he wakes up at four a.m every morning without fail. He sleeps with one pillow, along with the typical comforter and sheet. Occasionally he will bring out one of the blankets he keeps in a small trunk specifically for the purpose of housing them.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY :  the boy is eclectic as fuck. you wouldn't think it, but he's willing to give anything a chance. he picks and chooses songs rather than specific artists or genres, often gravitating towards lyrics that strike a chord with him or melodies that evoke some sort of emotion.

HOW MUCH THEY SPEND EVERY MORNING GETTING READY :  oh god. if joe were anyone else, it would probably take him maybe an hour or a hour and a half tops... but.. alas. As it is, despite not leaving for work until 7:30 every morning, his alarm promptly goes off at 3:30 a.m. He spends half an hour going over the list of things he needs to do in his head, allows himself this breath of time to sort of wake up as he goes about making his bed, folding any used blankets etc. He's in the shower by four a.m (on the dot) and though the amount of time to complete each task can vary depending on how his brain decides to treat him that day ... he gives himself ample time, avoiding the stress that would only trigger more compulsions. Before he walks out that door, his hair is perfect. His shoes are polished. His tie is straight. His vest and trousers and suit coat are perfectly pressed. His briefcase is packed and ready to go.. and his phone has a collection of pictures taken before he walks out the door, things to serve as reminders when he starts to worry about opened windows or things being left on etc later in the day. All in all, a typical morning takes him about 3-4 hours.

FAVORITE THING TO COLLECT :  different editions of poetry books.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED :  right handed. he's always wanted to be able to use both but practicing the letters and the resulting mess he makes of them stresses him out too much. so he stopped trying to learn.

FAVOURITE SPORT(S) : he doesn't really keep up with any sports. he watches wes play football occasionally and he remembers every once in a while to look at cricket scores.

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELLING :  eat the local food! but its local food that has been given great reviews on google only. no random hole in the walls for him. bonus points if its been featured on television or a prestigious magazine or something.

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER : Overcast, foggy, cool. A gentle breeze while mist drifts off the Thames.

WEIRD / OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE :  he has big basic/fairly common ones (drowning, germs).. but as for weird/obscure....he would never confess it as a fear, but he is very bothered by the feeling of peanut butter getting stuck onto the roof of his mouth. absolutely fucking hates it. it causes a slight panic (like a, feel like he cant breathe small panic) and he does his best to stay away from anything peanut butter related.

THE CARNIVAL / ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL :  he is really good at games of chance like the dime toss game or the guessing booth 

tagged by: stole it from my killian blog tagging: @gentlemanstarkey, @senstrike, @volchtsa, @wornkindness, @drdumaurier , @drakonivs , @langdhon , @mysticwrit , @yosukeh+ you!

[betheflame]

Party Games

Fill for Team Marry @stevetonygames - square: Truth 

“Okay, two truths and a lie,” Steve said, a little tipsy, but not so tipsy that he’d lost vowels. God, he loved the All Star Break. He hadn’t gotten selected this year, which meant he got five entire days during the season to act like a human and not an athlete. Which is why he was at his boyfriend’s lake house with all of their favorite people, playing party games and eating food cooked over fires and not sweating his balls off in LA trying to play a team sport with strangers. 

“We all know each other too well for that bullshit,” Clint objected and then let out a belch. 

“Classy, Barton,” Nat said with an eye roll. He grinned at her. 

“I think we can dig deep,” Bucky said. “It’ll be even more fun since we know each other so well.” 

They all eventually agreed, and he patted the seat next to him around the campfire to signal to Tony for him to sit down. Tony shuffled on a his feet a little, gave Steve a strange look, and then ambled over.

“What’s with the face?” Steve asked. 

“No face,” Tony said, still definitely making a face. 

Before Steve could investigate further, Clint announced that he’d go first. 

“I’m going food themed,” Clint said. “My favorite Jelly Belly is juicy pear, I can’t stand water ice, and I know the secret ingredient in Nona’s sauce.” 

Eyes whipped to Tony, who shrugged. “She’s a loose canon, so I can’t offer a definite either way.” 

A vociferous debate ensued, before Nat remembered that Clint had once told her that his favorite flavor of Jelly Belly was actually the tutti frutti one, and then everyone wanted the story about how he got Nona’s recipe. 

“Oh, I don’t have the whole recipe,” Clint said. “I just know the secret ingredient.”

“I know the whole thing,” Bucky said smugly. 

The group groaned and Sam threw an empty beer can at him. “Fool, she gave you her book for graduation. We were all there when you cried like a child.”

“I will perfect her tiramisu or die trying,” Bucky swore. 

“I think you have to be soaked in Italian Catholic guilt the same way the ladyfingers are soaked in espresso to really nail that one,” Tony mused. 

Next went Nat (who told the lie that she hadn’t ever bought a pair of Manolo Blahniks, which Pepper guessed was a lie on a technicality because Nat had gotten them from an ex), then Pepper (who was forced to confess that she went to see the cast of Glee on their mall tour), and then Bruce (who shocked them all by telling a story about getting so drunk on absinthe in college that he actually turned green). 

Then it was Tony’s turn. He cleared his throat. “I accidentally bought a timeshare in Boca Raton.”

“That’s sadly true,” Pepper said and the group laughed. “I was there for that one.”

“Spoilers, Potts,” Tony admonished teasingly, but there was still something off in his tone. Steve made a note to check in with Tony later. 

“Start over,” Nat said, “and Pepper, don’t ruin anything.”

Pepper made a move of zipping her lips and Tony spoke again. 

He held up one finger. “Sometimes, when I miss Anna, I buy Toll House break-and-bake cookies and make them just so the house smells like it did when she lived with us.” He put up another finger. “I actually understand the rules of cricket, and three, I have a ring in my pocket and I’m ready to propose to Steve but I don’t know how.”

Steve’s entire body froze and he felt like he was in a black hole. He was aware of noise happening around him, but all he could focus on was Tony’s hand finding its way to his knee. 

“Are you fucking with me?” Steve said, his voice a broken whisper. 

“Never,” Tony said. 

Steve shifted, and reached into the pocket of his jeans to produce a ring of his own. “You stole my line.”

About an hour later, after they’d found some prosecco to toast to the newly engaged couple and taken about a thousand photos and Steve had called his mom, Bucky spoke up.

“So what’s the lie, Stark?”

“Are you kidding, no one fucking understands cricket.”

[possessingtheproperspirit]

Fic Author Self Rec

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Thanks for tagging me, @kay-elle-cee <3 I found this very hard haha as self-reccing goes against everything I hold dear, but nonetheless here we are...

the way you left me || At nineteen, James vanishes, and Lily breaks.

I wrote this in a fevered rush, and I think it's the one I'm most proud of overall. Not entirely sure why, which doesn't lend itself to this sort of post, does it? It's sad and sweet and painful and all the things I like writing most. Angst with a happy, hopeful ending is my sweet spot.

2. Uninvited || With NEWTs looming, friends gather at the Potters' cottage in Wales to study and let off steam during the Easter holidays of their seventh year.

What's not to enjoy about pining, a Welsh beach and a 'there was only one bed' scenario? It includes this sentence, which I feel nicely encapsulates the gang:

They ate their fill; Mary tried to teach them a strange Muggle game called cricket, which James had a natural affinity for (“ever the fucking sportsman,” Marlene jeered from her position on the opposing team); Sirius tried to lead a team into the shallows, forgetting that the waters around the British Isles were frigid at the best of times; Remus built a bonfire in a bid to stop said team from developing frostbite.

I mean, what more can I say?

3. Forget-Me-Not (cw: sa). ||. At eighteen, Lily Evans fell - and fell hard - for James Potter, a classmate she had never given much thought to before. He seemed as into her as she was into him, so why is it, when she starts a new job almost a decade and a lot of water under that particular bridge later, that her new boss - James Potter himself - doesn't seem to remember her at all? A Don’t You Forget About Me by Mhairi Mcfarlane AU fic.

I wasn't going to include this one, but I guess I changed my mind? I'm proud that I a) finished this fic at all, and b) hopefully managed a very fine balance in dealing with an extremely sensitive subject. It was all a very personal writing experience and I guess I'm glad it all came out okay in the end.

4. A Lesson in Communication || There's a rule at his school that teachers are strictly not allowed to date the parents of pupils. James has never minded this rule before...

This largely started because it so amused me to think of James wrangling children at sports day. This is one of those stories that was supposed to be a quick thing, and then morphed into a nearly-12k monster whereby the misunderstandings piled up on top of each other like delicious pancakes. Yes, if anyone asked a straightforward question this fic would be about 500 words. Yes, my favourite bit is still Remus' reaction when he realises James' mistake.

5. The Price We Pay || As the summer before their sixth year comes to an end, Sirius, Remus, Lily and James consider how things may be different on their return to Hogwarts. When Sirius finally breaks free from his toxic home, it should be a fresh start - but unfortunately, it's the start of a spiral that will threaten the foundations of friendship, and change their lives irrevocably.

Last but not least! That blurb could do with updating, really, given that now – 27 chapters in – we're into seventh year and rather a lot has happened, haha. Still, when I started it, I didn't think I'd write more than maybe five or six chapters, and then it sort of grew its own little legs and scurried away from me. You know, how writing does? It's my original baby fic and I love it so but I also go through phases where I worry it's all utter bollocks, so it's very much a rollercoaster of a relationship. There is something both wonderful and challenging in writing a canon multi-chap, especially in this fandom where there are so many amazing canon multi-chaps. We battle on.

What a strange, therapy-esque post this ended up being 😅

Tagging (please feel free to ignore if you don't fancy it/have already done it) @wearingaberetinparis @mppmaraudergirl @clare-with-no-i @thequibblah @isahorcrux

[runninguplenorahills]

Hi Lenora!!☀️

I had to wake up stupidly early today to get to school early and I had caffeinated tea. But the thing is I never have any caffeine so I had so much energy it was ridiculous. I was practically bouncing up and down during chemistry

Also, there is a huge ass cricket that lives in my basement (well, a lot of crickets live in the basement but this one is special- his body is, like, and inch long and that’s not counting the antenna) and I almost caught him today but he got away😔

Anyways how has your day been?

Hey!!🪐

Having to wake up really early sucks, but I‘m glad you got some energy from the caffeine, it actually sounds hilarious xjjgkdkwpsjsjd! I always forget that caffeine is supposed to have an actual, energizing effect on you because I could drink a cup of that stuff and fall asleep a second later 😀

Yes, I definitely drink too much coffee, but I actually haven’t drank all that much of it recently because I got cocoa powder from my favorite chocolate brand and I tried to just add it to the coffee because one of my friends told me that that’s what she does because it makes her coffee “basically mocha”, but it didn’t work quite that well for me. I can barely taste the cocoa powder in the coffee, but the flavor is obviously the main thing so I rather just have the cocoa and leave the coffee alone…

for now👀

Oh shit, I hope you’ll be able to get the cricket out soon haha. There was a cricket in my sister’s room once a couple of weeks ago and we were panicking so bad when it hopped away and we couldn’t find it anymore hahaha. Oh, and once there was a cricket in my cousins room but the flat is literally on the top of the fucking building! The cricket somehow managed to sneak its way to the eighth floor 💀

Today was really good, I actually took notes for the first time in this one lecture (I’m an absolute idiot for not having done that since the beginning), I was able to revise some slides for my linguistics lecture (which is very necessary right now because I’ll write a midterm on Tuesday), I went shopping for some Christmas presents, my mom and sister got food for me and picked me up from Uni, I was able to get started on my lecture-report (which I should’ve started a month ago but I’m an idiot) and I’ll probably try and revise some more linguistic slides now. And I might also pick my sister up from the theater, we’ll see.

You ask is a bit older (sorry for not replying right away!) so, how has today been for you?💗

[originemesis]

@kugel-bitch cont. from xxx

Before she makes a grab for Adam's reaching hand she takes a quick moment to shed the kevlar layer stifling her sense of touch, plucking the gloves off her fingers and leaving them there amidst the blond blooms to be retrieved at a later time. She does not want anything to repress her ability to absorb as much of this experience as she can within whatever span of time she is granted. All of it, every last, minute detail, she wants it chiseled into the deepest niches of her mind, so that not even eternity's corrosive influence can scrub these memories clean from the essence of her being. Much of her life has been relatively unremarkable. She was not created to be a witness, or an incendiary to extraordinary events, so she has little to look back on in terms of outstanding moments, but this she wants to hold onto, with everything that she's got. Palm against palm, she hoists herself back into an upright position but remains put inside the cradle of Adam's wingspan, hanging off his every word as if he were reciting a previously unknown chapter of the holy gospel to her. There's no end to the fascination she has for the machinations of his mind—he's made it easy to maintain throughout the years, ever taciturn in regards to his innermost thoughts and feelings. Of course there is much she has learned to glean from his day-to-day disposition but it is very different to actually hear him voice the things that go on inside the dome of his cranium. He speaks her name and her brows shoot skyward. "Me?"

Okay. Something is up. Like, up, up. Way above her current understanding of what this venture is really about. "I think you're giving me a little too much credit right now, Adam...are you—" Amidst the confusion and the steadily climbing rate of her heartbeat the words are getting lost on their way from her head to her tongue. She stares at him through the reflection of the moonlight gleaming in his visor, bouncing off the glass and in turn casting a silver-gold glow on her bemused countenance. She may be humanoid in appearance but this lighting very much accentuates the ethereal nature of her flesh, how it gleams like finely carved, polished marble, entirely void of the fine lines, dimples and pores that give humans their unique, rugged appearance. When the light catches her at just the right angle, he might see the subtle, mother-of-pearl-esque colors swimming in the whiteness of her face, like the inside of an oyster's shell. "—are you okay? You feel...warm. really warm." Just then she realizes that she is still holding onto his hand, but she makes no move to pull away. Something tells her that he might be in need of a spot of moral support right now. "...yes, of course, you know you can tell me anything. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere...Tell me what you're thinking."

"-take the credit then? Unless you'd prefer a little more than a 'little' to cash out now?" He'd spent too much time with the flock to not take note of how she seemed to buckle at the sudden shift in his tone that only seemed more potent with the addition of Eden's cicada population. The cadence of crickets and frogs crooned as normal, but he'd already taken their song for his own inside his head and began to push it outwards with the help of his helmet- a base of the former thing...improved. More notable. The wind in the pond's cattails probably joined in a scratch or two on top of it. Anything nearby seemed willing to become a magnified instrument with whatever had happened to switch the atmosphere on like a microphone.

The golden gait of his gaze fell to observe how her form shimmered its shedding disguise beneath the moon. She was opaline- a form that drew him nearer still and promised the golden light of his splendor would always be reflected and even improved when she blended her various colors with his before reflecting them out again. "Y-yeah...the fuck wouldn't I be?" He assured with a huff, though made no movement to withdraw from the proximity of their faces just yet. "It's just...you're so-" Words caught in his throat a moment, and with a swift swallow, he chased after them.

"...so pretty."

Giving the bare hand coaxed within his a careful squeeze, he was quick to offer the look of concern on her face a quirk of a smile behind his visor. "Feelin' real shitty I didn't spend V-day with ya now." He added, a twinge of remorse caught in a grimace. She'd already came to him about it, and yet he'd still been too sore to delve further past a noncommittal grunt and a 'don't do it again then, slut'. With a seamless shift, he leaned backwards to observe her face propped up in his claw and to dig the edge of his thumb into her cheek, rubbing fondly in a deep yet slow circle. It's her prompting out of concern for him that drives him to relent with sagged shoulders and feathers fluttering until each respective wing met one another around the back of hers as he doted over her with an assortment of clucks and coos.

Time to be a man about it- [until 3:05 for this part OOf-]

"...so hear me out." Leaning in to the subtle acoustics the garden provided, he set to work inside his helmet- lining up the custom sounds of nature with a scrambling of style that bet fit him- best fit her the more he tinkered away at it. The sound coursing through him and threading into the universe around them was all encompassing at first- and for the time being it seemed to have no direct source, though perhaps the bass beginning to thud against them tucked close to one another would reveal that it was the thudding clatter of his heart against his chest that seemed to be the culprit in the matter. Their first day in the garden was spent with the configuring of such noises and vibrations, and so deep were they that it was hard to notice the time that passed and how utterly inconsequential it was to an angel's crooning while using every edge of the universe for its game.

It was only when the light from the moon had faded to the early temperance of dawn that he began his musings- musical and rumbling in his chest. "...once upon a time-" His wings would follow the first few words dropped, flaring outwards fully to let her admire the last of the moonlight's kisses along his feathers as the dawn cycled through them. "...I used to romanticize...used to be somebody- hff...nevermind-" A shrug. "...don't miss it that much now."

His croons cycled through the equalizer, magnifying the depths of each word until they reverberated with the effort that ripples along water formed when fingertips dipped into the surface of puddles recently shed from an earlier morning drizzle. "I feel it sinkin' in. Days where I wonder where I've been-...in picture perfect..." With a puff, he scooted the back of his knuckles beneath her jawline, ghosting along it with the precision of a guitarist with a lute at his disposal. "-porcelain. But I wont' lose a pound. You said I-" The music of the garden's initial sounds concentrated by his efforts began to deepen with each note that helped pull him upwards slowly but surely. Without a flap or a flutter, but with wings on full, outstretched display, the melody began to tug him upwards while he observed her from above with mild amusement. Was it clear to her now that his voice was amplified in a way that did not hurt the senses- but boomed with enough brightness to bully both heaven and hell into witnesses of his cause? "-would make a better lyre...I never face the music when it's di-i-ire...and I breathe ~ disaster...ever-after. Don't pull away from me now."

The day had already begun to fade again in the golden light of second-day's sunset when he rode the current at his current capacity carefully around her- wings outstretched and fluttering about her shoulders as he circled just above her head. "Don't you move." A firm chirrup later and he was barely grazing her cheek with his feathers as he rose higher into the air above her. "Can't you stay? Where you are-...just for now?" A smile tugged at his visor, overly warm when pinned in her direction. He clicked his teeth and continued with a warble. "I could be your per-fect disaster..." Disaster as it was to curl the ends of his wing tips around her face and coax it back to ensure she followed his movements, he did so with an extraordinary amount of care despite having to babysit all the different sound emittances from his helmet in addition to what he crooned next.

"-you could be my ever after? You-" A gritty growl dug its talons in, unwilling to let her go now that they'd already been left upon the stage of infinite time at his request via the sound frequency he channeled through the very depths of his chest. The violins he'd heard often in heaven could be heard too- repurposed for his own design. A collage of sounds all meant to serenade her. "-could be my ever after...after all? I could be your perfect disaster..." He'd been perfect once before, after all. A perfect being in this place that made her stare so much in wonder at...how he longed to put on a performance that would have her look at him that way. "You could be my ever after-apologies!"

With a harsh flap, the angelic broadcaster launched himself backwards away from her, coming to rest within the bough of a tree above the thicket. The drums from their band were recorded in various means in his files, but he'd found just the right pattern of them to admit at that moment and applied the sound of them just as the third day began to breathe its sigh into his lungs. "I'm not myself." He argued that fact with a gesture to the face he wore. He knew she probably wanted to see what was underneath it now more than ever- to see him and see if he was just joking around and jerking her chain, but there was no way he could support the orchestra of sounds without the thing locked in place now and thrumming with all manner of fervent frequencies. "But I can guarantee-! That when I get back? You won't believe...that you know me well."

Palm flat against the bark of his perch, he circled the trunk of the white oak, eyes trained down on her and talons dug in to scratch the post as if he could grind their initials in without a second thought. "Don't wanna think about it-" A spot on the bark where a heart and the initials A+E rested received a hearty scratch from his circling efforts. "I'm fuckin' TIRED of getting SICK ABOUT IT-" Talons curled in and a fist met the heart once with a melodic slam that he used to launch himself away from the base of the tree and out amongst its leafy boughs were his light grazing of weight against the lighter branches shook leaves and unripe pollen free to fall overhead.

With a brutish beat of his wings to bat the weaker limbs away- snapping what couldn't withstand his fury in that moment and sending them tumbling down, he scoffed with the same energy he'd toss to a crowd of gathered exorcists all looking for that serotonin boost to get worked up for their next extermination. "Now stand back up- and be a MAN about it. And fight for something!" He demanded, wings cracking with each emphasis of- "fight for something! FIGHT for someTHING!" The final 'thing' was just the burst needed to launch himself down into the patches of flowers he'd collected at the tree's base, ripping them up with his wings beating furiously on impact. "Oough ~ you said I would make a better lyre? Never face the music when it's dire. I breathe-" And he did- the sharpest inhale when he saw the glow of the moonlight on her skin again pitching her into a mold that he could never replicate despite all his furious feather flares. She'd always exude a sense of divinity he could only hope to graze should he work the tempo up enough to get airborne. "-disaster. Ever ~ after. Don't pull away from me now..."

Golden light flashed- sparked as if by his claims, and as he began to rise again without the assistance of wing flaps in favor of having them outstretched and on full, flashing display under the light of the third day's half moon, the golden flashes formulated and formed the golden ax in his arms just in time to meet a thunderous strum of his angelic specialty - the strings. All of them attached.

"Don't you move-...can't you stay? Where you are...just for now??"

[yourmexahistory]

Did u know that mexico was once technically under the french empire?

Yeah, do you know the whole 5th of may thing? well it's a celebration of the battle that the mexican state (with the help of indigenous people) won against the french, but they didn't won the war.

So, context. After mexico got its "independence" there were several other states that wanted to take over it: spain, britain, usa, and france. So the french try first through whats called "the war of the cakes" which sounds so much fun than it actually was (a lawsuit that some french bakers put out against the goverment after some people trashed their business). Anyways things happened and this powers (except the usa) decided that the mexican state owe them money so it started to pay whats called "the foreign debt or la deuda externa" which continues to exist 'till this day. Things happen again and now Benito Juarez, Jalisco native of indigineous heritage, masonero (sortof part of the ilumanti? i think?) and face of the Liberal Party whose motto was "The respect to the right of others makes peace", becames president, and decides to just stop paying said debt.

The european powers were angry and they threaten with invasion, but alas, Benito was like wait "abrazos no balazos or hugs not guns. " (reference to the current president of México) "and you win, I'll pay you the money", and the powers were like, you know what, yeah, and retreated. All except the french. (It was the third french empire? The one with Napoléon the third), who decided to invade México, again with around 6 thousand soldiers, which some die in the battle of puebla but at the end they were able to get into CDMX. Making it now part of the french empire.

However it wasn't like Napoleon the 3rd would've wanted to administrate the state/piece of land/ whatever it was at the time, plus he had wanted to established a local economy. So he talked to the Conservative party in México about what where their ideas for a candidate, and they said, a monarch (european obvs.) that was Catholic, and they ended up finding Maximiliano de Hasburgo, an austrian archiduque. Legend has it that the man was like "I'm not going unless the people in México want me to be their "king" or something like it. To which of course the conservative party was like "of course, they love you" (they didn't?? Like you'll see its weird).

Max de Asburgo arrived to Veracruz two years after the Battle of Puebla (aka 5th of May) in May, 1864 and then later made a big entrance to the Capital and all. He was the one that was like, you know what "we should built a castle near this lake that's called mountain of the crickets" which is why we now have the Castillo de Chapultepec, he put in vogue the fashion of having the president reside in a Castle until the presidential palace? home? in Los Pinos was created, which has been changed once again by the current president, who was like "fuck that, I'm staying at the castle" (i think, memory is a bit illusive). That being said, is important to note that Benito hadn't dissapeared, he still had a goverment, that changed headquarters everytime the conservative/imperial forces knocked, but he was there and he was fighting.

So, the arguments between the liberals and the conservatives, have to do with how the state is administrated in based of three key factors: 1st Republic (aka USA model) vz Monarchy (aka european model) 2nd Centralist vz Federalist and 3rd a lay goverment vz a religious one. And Conservatives where very you know, vocal about their religion and how México should be yk a Catholic State, and it WAS, but freedom of religion allowed to people to persue other spiritual/religious avenues therefore weakening the power of the church. And Max didn't only do that, he also took away the good of the chuch and nationalized them, and ecleciastic juristiction- which limit the role of the church in tribunals and stuff.

Max wasn't what conservatives expected. He did ruled under a monarchy, though I think we should know it wasn't an absolutist one, HE had the executive power and when he wasn't present her wife had it (She's a controversial figure some love her some hate her, she has a corrido in her name titled goodbye mom Carlota which refers to when she was exiled after her husband was murdered, but i'm getting ahead of myself). The lesgislative power was manged by the congress of ministers, and the judicial by the tribunal of accounts. But the most important part was that He made the law under which the empire would be mange in accordance to european LIBERAL principles as: personal freedom, equality under law, personal security, people not being able to enter your home without explicit permission, freedom of expresion (or more acurrately freedom of the press), freedom of work, and the most important for the historical context freedom of RELIGION.

Anyways, 2 years later the French lost against the Gringos in some battle, and they are like "we're out of north america" (they still had the french guayana, and i think still do? so they're still in america but they left México). So they retire the french troops that were in México and practically left Max and Carlota to fend for themselves. Things didn't look great for Max the conservatives hated him for being a liberal and the liberals for being a conservative, Benito had taken the opportunity of the french retiring to seized power and get back into the presidential seat. Benito told Max "Go back to where you came from" or something like it, and Max did wanted to go back to Austria but his mom and brother back there were like "And come back as a COWARD, a fail Monarch. No, you stay there and die like men".

And that's tecnically how México was part of the French empire under austrian administration. As always take anything I say with big excepticism, enjoy your 5th of May celebrations.

And die like men he did. The republican party, the one of Benito, held him a trial found him guilty and tie his hands, blindfolded him, and then shoot him to dead the 19 of July 1867. Legend has it that before he was shot he said the following words "Let the blood spilled by my death heal the wounds of México." His blood, however, did not heal any wounds.