#she's referring to their historical reputations

[fideidefenswhore]

Scholars have usually treated Katherine [Parr] sympathetically, partly because of Foxe’s revelations about her problems with Henry, but often they have ignored her political ambitions. In early 1543, shortly after the death of her husband, John Neville, Lord Latimer, Katherine was considering marriage to the two single men who were the closest relatives to [Prince] Edward, the king’s heir: Henry [VIII], himself, and [Thomas] Seymour. When Henry died, she quickly wed Seymour and supported his intrigues against his brother.

Wicked Women of Tudor England: Queens, Aristocrats, Commoners, by Retha M Warnicke

[dullahandyke]

Films good movies good banshees of inisherin was good

[taylorswiftstyle]

MTV Video Music Awards | September 11, 2024

Dior Resort 2025 Lorraine Schwartz earrings Stuart Weitzman ‘Ultrastuart Maverick Leather Boots’ - $1,550.00

Dior’s latest cruise collection was an ode to Scotland and the house’s first runway show held there in 7 decades. Creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri said of her inspiration, “Scotland is an important reference in the fashion world and I wanted to interpret it in a different way. For my generation, it’s so associated with punk.” The result was an offering full of voluminous skirts, dramatically cinched dresses, and hourglass jackets rendered in historically accurate tartans and, indeed, set off with certain punk sensibilities thanks to studded leather accessories and clompy buckled boots. 

The VMA dress code typically leans towards the wacky and the outrageous. Hence why Taylor has felt comfortable appearing in alphagetti soup baby onesies (aka The Incident, circa 2014). I’ll put it on record again and again that I may pull a face at that look (and still do, a decade later) but I will always appreciate a risk (relative to the wearer). Fashion should be fun! 

The collection filters Scotland’s most historic women into its fabrics. Namely, Mary Queen of Scots: a fiery Sagittarius woman I’d like to think Taylor might feel kinship with. During her years of imprisonment in England by QEI, Mary would insert veiled - often political - symbols into her embroidery. At one point even the phrase, "In my end lies my beginning" was embroidered into her state's clothes. Doesn’t that feel, “In the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive”? 

In his review of this Dior runway, Mark Holgate for Vogue described the collection as one that “drew on the geopolitics of fabric[s …] and the way [Mary] gave political commentary through her embroideries.” He described the series as full of “defiant beauty and an equally defiant energy. It felt uncompromising. But then maybe women can’t afford to be anything but that, especially now.” If a possible connect, I admire this evocation in the wake of Taylor’s major political endorsement. Especially given Chiuri worked with the iconic Harris Tweeds for their artisan, loomed wool. This teed her up nicely for an onstage call to action to remind viewers to register to vote.

All-in, this felt like a cohesive night of looks to underpin TTPD’s aesthetic. The runway’s interplay of proportions and bustier-like top are very TTPD - sensual, emboldened, playing with what to reveal and what to hide. A look that’s dark academia adjacent. 

I do find the biker gloves (also by Dior) confusing and I’m searching for insight on their ‘why’. At the Grammys, I could buy into the ‘Albatross’ reference in her black elbow-length gloves. These? I’m still trying to make sense of. A straitjacket allusion, perhaps? Were I to make some styling tweaks, I would have removed the gloves, opted for the coordinating tartan shorts from the runway, and changed the boots out to an equally tall but caged style to tie into the patterned effect of the ensemble.

Photo by Dimitrios Kambouris via Getty Images

[fumifooms]

Wait one darn diggity second what’s this about unmarried half-foot women being embarrassing for the family, what’s this about being unmarried as a half-foot being "different [worse than] for other races". Maybe Flertom and Puckpatti’s intensity about finding a husband is the norm, maybe Meijack, despite Chilchuck approving of her disinterest in romance, is the one who’s considered weird by social standards.

Maybe they’re less well-adjusted than I thought. Don’t misunderstand me I’m aroace, but if there’s a lot of societal pressure and it’s considered a failure if you’re not married, it is notable when all 3 of your kids haven’t married past the time that’s expected. For reference adulthood for a half-foot is reached at 14, Chil got married at 13, Puckpatti is 14 while Flertom and Meijack are 16. The other half-foot character we have is Mickbell who is also unmarried, unsurprising considering his situation. I don’t think them not having married is about their family being poorer, if anything I’d think Chil’s family is on the comfier end of half-foot families with the high wages he gets paid with and the nice living conditions we’ve seen (although we don’t know when he started being paid well). We know about Flertom having high standards, but she and Puckpatti are actively looking to date, so there’s something going on here whatever it is.

It is nice that it doesn’t seem like Chilchuck cares at all, he even seems to generally dislike the idea of his daughters dating. I imagine that their mother must have also not pressured them into marrying at all, maybe even encouraged them not to marry if they didn’t have someone, which is sweet. And understandable, considering she might not want her daughters to rush into it and live with…….. Being stuck in an unhappy marriage. And here comes in what I meant when I said well-adjusted, daddy issues. We aren’t shown a lot of Chil’s married life, but I would bet my life on there having been tensions and warning signs. Especially since, since the daughters and Chil hadn’t seen each other since the separation before post-canon, there’s an air of not having been very surprised or panicked about the whole thing: the separation wasn’t unexpected. Having to watch your parents fall out of love and growing up seeing them in a taxing marriage can be hard, and not exactly put you in the mood to try and find romance and marry. Fear of abandonment, fear of intimacy, stunted emotional intelligence, fear of commitment… Oh girlies I am about to extrapolate so much from this

Half-foot society has a lot of coding I don’t have enough specialized knowledge to pin down, but they’re a poor working class people, anglo peasant vibes. They have tightly knit communities, but then the double edge is that if your community has expectations and rules to belong, the pressure will be harsh and it can end up being more isolating if you deviate from it. Marriage historically and in Dunmeshi has a lot of economical aspects, in Laios’ Adventurer’s Bible profile for example dowries are hinted at.

So the pressure to marry might very well originate from the need to bring money in to your family, and to unite families as allies. And from there it grows into an expectation, and thus if they aren’t married it’s "an unmarried woman was deemed unfit by suitors, something with her must be off"/"This woman was unable to provide for her family, she must be a burden on them" which results into the family having a bad reputation. If Flertom says it’s worse for half-foots than other races, the reasons must be either social or economical or both. There’s of course their lifespan being shorter too, so that might play into it, expectations to go about things quickly and to have a fast life cycle and making sure to have kids. As we see with Laios, having kids is a pressure that does exist globally as well. Elves are another interesting example of how familial expectations are like in Dunmeshi with heirdom and whatnot, but free me I just wanted to bring up the possibility of Childaughters being societal misfits and having relational issues.

I will also mention that in a similar way, Chilchuck’s wife leaving him may have damaged the daughters’ chances, in a "what if they’re like their mother, the type of woman to abandon her husband!" way. Chilchuck also has a reputation especially as an union leader, which can paint him as dependable as much as it can paint him as someone harsh and stingy, which would be an intimidating. It’s possible they’re a bit more well-off from the rest of the half-foot community as mentioned, which could add to the intimidating factor or a bad reputation as an overall uptight family or one that has drama. Again, double edge of community being very tightly knit and important, with family as one of its highest values.

[trans-cuchulainn]

let's be more positive about books for a while! here are some queer historical romance novels that i've been rereading recently that i think do something interesting with making characters feel historical in their mindset and worldview, but are also fairly progressive, diverse queer books that are, frankly, a delight to read

this is by no means exhaustive and to be honest i could put almost anything by cat sebastian or kj charles on a list like this so this is purely the highlights of what i've reread in the past week to take my mind off work, and why i think they're interesting from this specific angle

cat sebastian, the ruin of a rake (turners #3)

this is technically the third in a trilogy but they're only very loosely connected, so you don't need to have read the others if you don't care about knowing who all the background characters are. the others are also good though

why it's interesting: features a character who has had to painstakingly study and learn the rules of polite society in order to claw his way up to respectability, and is now deploying those skills to help another man repair his reputation. shows the complexity of those rules, the social purposes they serve, and the work that goes into living by them, as well as the consequences of breaking them. also explores some of the financial side of aristocracy, and features a character with chronic illness (recurring malaria following repeated infections as a child in india) whose feelings about his illness are very relatable without feeling overly modern.

kj charles, society of gentlemen series.

this trilogy is closely related plot-wise and best read in order. all three explore cross-class romances and characters struggling to reconcile their political views and personal ethics with their desires, in the aftermath of the peterloo massacre, with a strong focus on the political role of the written word. first book is long-lost gentleman raised by seditionists / fashion-minded dandy teaching him to behave in society; second book is tory nobleman submissive / seditious pamphleteer dominant who've been fucking for a year without knowing the other's identity; third book is lord / valet and all the complicated dynamics of consent there with a generous side-helping of crime.

why they're interesting: close attention to the history of political printing and the impact of government censorship and repressive taxes on the freedom of the press; complex ideological disagreements that aren't handwaved as unimportant; examination of trust, consent, and social responsibility across class differences and in situations with problematic power dynamics; most of the characters are progressive for their time without feeling like they have modern attitudes. the second book, a seditious affair, deals most strongly with the revolutionary politics side of things, but all tackle it to some extent.

kj charles, band sinister.

look i'm probably biased because this might be my favourite KJC. it's a standalone about a pair of siblings: the sister wrote a gothic novel heavily inspired by their mysterious and scandalous neighbour whose older brother had an affair with their mum (causing scandal); the brother is a classics nerd. the sister breaks her leg on a ride through their neighbour's estate and can't be moved until she heals so they both have to stay at the house and find out if the neighbour is really as scandalous as he seems.

why it's interesting: discussion of atheism and new ideas about science and creation (very shocking to the brother, who is the viewpoint character); details of agriculture and estate management via main LI's attempt to grow sugar beet, as well as the economics of sugar (including references to slavery); "unexpurgated" latin and greek classics as queer reference points for a character who nevertheless hasn't quite figured out he's queer; material consequences of society scandal

bonus: wonderful sibling dynamic and a diverse cast including a portugese jewish character, which i don't think i've seen in a book before

i will add to this list as i continue to reread both of their backlists! (bc i have read them all enough times and in close enough succession that they blur together in my head unless i've read them very recently)

[edgeray]

HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.

Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :

Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.

It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.

Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.

So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.

Courting a Lie

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words

You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 

You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.

You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 

“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 

“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 

“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 

“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 

It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”

That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 

“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 

“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.

Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 

“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 

“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 

“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 

“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.

And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 

Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 

You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 

— 

Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 

Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 

Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 

Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 

and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.

Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 

She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 

—

Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.

And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 

You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 

“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 

“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 

“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 

You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.

“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 

“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.

“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 

“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 

You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 

Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 

You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 

It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 

You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 

Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 

[quixtrix]

the significance of blue - a somewhat analysis on the lost temple cult

the heretic katana skin jus got shown to the general public and the detail that stands out to me the most is the fact that katana's horns are dyed blue. teal blue is the colour motif of the church of the lost eye, and the fact that they go as far as to make members dye their horns for this blue is very interesting! let's get into why I think they do this and more about the church of the true eye :P

for starters, i am an art history nerd, i'm going into uni for an art history related major, and took an art history class. these are my credentials before you tell me im insane (but also i am overanalysing phighting rn so maybe i am insane). pls dont like. kill me for overanalysing actually i jus really like doing this kinda thing lol dont read if you dont wanna hear me yapping

with that being said, in history, blue has been historically associated with wealth and religion. this is due to the fact that blue, specifically cobalt blue, is difficult to mine, and because a deep rich blue such as cobalt blue doesn't have an easy alternative for the colour. the standard of ur for exactly is a symbol of wealth because of the amount of blue that it uses.

on the religion side, or at least in abrahamic religions (i cannot currently remember if hinduism or buddhism treasures blue like that), blue is associated with heaven. obviously because the sky is blue and what not, but also because it represents the spirit of god. this may also be because of the aforementioned difficulty of acquiring blue, but religious figures and buildings use blue a lot, enhancing the association with blue and religion.

this all fits in line with the lost temple, which 1. is a place of wealth 2. the largest religious organisation we've seen in phighting. blue fits them, analysis done and dusted.

wrong. i woulda let this slide if we didn't establish that dying your horns is a way to express oneself in phighting.

look at all the members for me real quick, look at their horns.

yeah i included dollmaker mainly bc it said on the wiki shes in the cult. shes not apart of this analysis tho sorry dollmaker fans.

all various shades of blue! specifically teal and dark blue. whether it be dye or not, it's something noteworthy.

i wanna point out that it's said that medkit and katana both share the same shade of teal. yknow what else that medkit and katana share that's related to the church?

only mention of biological family on med's side btw. also, since he was born with teal horns its smth of note.

and then katana has a brother. this is literally in dialogue.

yknow what's a big thing in the church of the true eye? family. their whole schtick is being a whole big family. honestly, katana might not even have a biological brother if my assumption on how the cult's rankings work.

basically, the highest figure we know in the cult, whether he be the head of it or jus a real high ranking figure, is referred to as 'the father.'

it's not a stretch to assume that the hierarchy within the cult is based off of a family. those who are the lowest are referred to as the acolytes (i assume they are the lowest because the broker refers to them as a whole and not individuals), those who are higher may possibly referred to with more traditional family titles such as 'brother' or 'sister' or even possibly 'mother.' it would make sense given the fact that they're literally big on the family thing. why would you call the whole thing family if you won't do the silly culty thing with the brother and sister thing within the cult do you hate love and joy and fun??? (obviously matches are a different thing entirely, but i feel like outside of the phighters we see, the reputation of being a cult family as opposed to jus some weird ass cult obviously had to come from somewhere. besides, reserving titles such as brother and sister for higher ranking officials would show significance).

i highlight the fact that katana and medkit have the same shade of teal because colour is so significant in the cult. broker, medkit, and katana look to have similar uniforms in terms of build and colour, with katanas being kinda an inverse of broker's. they all seem to work underneath scythe as well, with scythe in a white uniform and more gold, appearing to be more wealthy and have influence in the cult. while she also has teal horns, it's darker than katana and medkit's, and i don't have enough information to gather what that darker shade of teal could really mean.

but regardless, teal horns in the context of the church of the true eye can possibly mean literal familial connection. that's one possibility. we're going through possibilities of the meanings of the colours right now. i say this because medkit would have most likely been fucked if he didn't have the familial connection to the church because from what we've seen, going to another faction is not a real welcome thing to do. and then katana's horns are clearly dyed that specific teal, when he hasn't dyed his horns red at all. he could have had them dyed like broker's darker blue, but they're not.

teal horns could also jus be a cult thing and broker's jus being the lil weirdo he is. but i jus can't let go of the fact that medkit's horns and katana's horns are basically the same colour. it's been bothering me. it's why im here yapping right now. honestly i wish i could also explain why dollmaker or scythe has tealish horns as well, (with the lil bits on both of their horns sticking out!) but i jus don't have enough info on dollmaker.

anyways, since i'm already talking about katana's and medkit's horns, let's talk about that little gold ring on both of their horns.

horn decoration has mostly been seen as, once again, expression, but historically irl jewellery has a lot of significance culturally and religiously. first thing that comes to mind is the stretching of the ear lobes, which is associated with status and religion (think the buddha.) within the world of phighting, we rarely if ever see jewellery on horns outside of the cult. honestly i jus assumed that medkit was cunty but with the large gold piece on heretic katana's horn, it has to have more significance.

also. why are they on the same side. i know that the right side and the left side have meanings within abrahamic religions (eg. muslims not using their left hands to eat or drink because of the devil, 'the right hand of the father' being because the right hand of god is metaphor for his omnipotence) but i don't have enough info for the ring. it could mean that you were accepted as more than an acolyte within the cult, or again, the family tie, but there's jus nothing at the time of writing this that i can figure out. it's a bit frustrating. it could jus mean they're wealthy though

anyways, i think that's all my thoughts on the church of the true eye. i actually have a small idea on who the deity the church worships, but also i feel like that's like theorising who's the in universe jesus christ (because the church unironically can be compared to christianity. i might make another yap sesh on that.) so i didn't go into it in here lol. tell me all ur thoughts nd feelings on this, my askbox is open :P

[iwanthermidnightz]

“Anyone considering the whole of Ms. Swift’s artistry — the way that her brilliantly calculated celebrity mixes with her soul-baring art — can find discrepancies between the story that underpins her celebrity and the one captured by her songs. One such gap can be found in her “Lover” era. Others appear alongside “dropped hairpins,” or the covert ways someone can signal queer identity to those in the know while leaving others comfortable in their ignorance. Ms. Swift dropped hairpins before “Lover” and has continued to do so since.

Sometimes, Ms. Swift communicates through explicit sartorial choices — hair the colors of the bisexual pride flag or a recurring motif of rainbow dresses. She frequently depicts herself as trapped in glass closets or, well, in regular closets. She drops hairpins on tour as well, paying tribute to the Serpentine Dance of the lesbian artist Loie Fuller during the Reputation Tour or referencing “The Ladder,” one of the earliest lesbian publications in the United States, in her Eras Tour visuals.

Dropped hairpins also appear in Ms. Swift’s songwriting. Sometimes, the description of a muse — the subject of her song, or to whom she sings — seems to fit only a woman, as it does in “It’s Nice to Have a Friend,” “Maroon” or “Hits Different.” Sometimes she suggests a female muse through unfulfilled rhyme schemes, as she does in “The Very First Night,” when she sings “didn’t read the note on the Polaroid picture / they don’t know how much I miss you” (“her,” instead of that pesky little “you,” would rhyme). Her songwriting also noticeably alludes to poets whose muses the historical record incorrectly cast as men — Emily Dickinson chief among them — as if to suggest the same fate awaits her art. Stunningly, she even explicitly refers to dropping hairpins, not once, but twice, on two separate albums.

In isolation, a single dropped hairpin is perhaps meaningless or accidental, but considered together, they’re the unfurling of a ballerina bun after a long performance. Those dropped hairpins began to appear in Ms. Swift’s artistry long before queer identity was undeniably marketable to mainstream America. They suggest to queer people that she is one of us. They also suggest that her art may be far more complex than the eclipsing nature of her celebrity may allow, even now.

Since at least her “Lover” era, Ms. Swift has explicitly encouraged her fans to read into the coded messages (which she calls “Easter eggs”) she leaves in music videos, social media posts and interviews with traditional media outlets, but a majority of those fans largely ignore or discount the dropped hairpins that might hint at queer identity. For them, acknowledging even the possibility that Ms. Swift could be queer would irrevocably alter the way they connect with her celebrity, the true product they’re consuming.

There is such public devotion to the traditional narrative Ms. Swift embodies because American culture enshrines male power. In her sweeping essay, “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence,” the lesbian feminist poet Adrienne Rich identified the way that male power cramps, hinders or devalues women’s creativity. All of the sexist undertones with which Ms. Swift’s work can be discussed (often, even, by fans) flow from compulsory heterosexuality, or the way patriarchy draws power from the presumption that women naturally desire men. She must write about men she surely loves or be unbankable; she must marry and bear children or remain a child herself; she must look like, in her words, a “sexy baby” or be undesirable, “a monster on the hill.”

A woman who loves women is most certainly a monster to a society that prizes male power. She can fulfill none of the functions that a traditional culture imagines — wife, mother, maid, mistress, whore — so she has few places in the historical record. The Sapphic possibility of her work is ignored, censored or lost to time. If there is queerness earnestly implied in Ms. Swift’s work, then it’s no wonder that it, like that of so many other artists before her, is so often rendered invisible in the public imagination.”

— NYT OPINION: Look What We Made Taylor Swift Do

[thegayloragenda]

“I’ll tell you something right now / I’d rather burn my whole life down / than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning,”

“I’ll tell you something about my good name / It’s mine alone to disgrace / I don’t cater to all these vipers dressed in empath’s clothing.”

Hey Swifties — what do you think she’s referring to when she singing these lines? What is she burning down? What is disgracing her good name? According to the media narrative, she is straight billionaire in a heteronormative relationship with a star football player that the entire world is obsessed with. She is literally the American Dream.

What would be a disgrace to her name?

If you think it’s about her on-and-off again 10 year love affair with Matty then why would she choose Ice Spice over him to cover her ass in the press and then rebound with Travis immediately after? That’s not very full throttle through the fences of her.

Ohhhh I know!!!! Is it because she might have cheated on Joe with Matty? Oh wait. No y’all didn’t see that as bad either. She’s still god status.

Hmm…

Is it because she’s a 34 year old woman dropping the f-bomb in her songs? Is it because she’s wearing a sexy little bodysuit or giving a chair a lap dance? No because her “good girl” persona has pretty much stayed intact. I think we can all confidently say that she’s definitely still America’s sweetheart. After all, she’s never had much “edge”.

Maybe it’s because she pissed off some republicans. OH WAIT! They actually forgave her because she’s dating an NFL hero! There’s really only a few Christian conservatives who have dropped her but that’s barely made a ripple in her pond.

The only thing that *might* ruin her would be her political silence (after promising to speak up) and the possible queerbaiting / the use of historical queer flagging. Oh but guess what? She became a billionaire despite both of those possibilities. And what a fucking slap in the face to the queer community and the injustice that the world is currently facing to essentially say “I’m a bad girl because I lie to the public about the things I care about and the type of person that I am so go fuck yourself!” If that’s who you want to worship, be my guest.

I need y’all to put on your critical thinking caps for this one…

Could it possibly be that she’s preparing you for something?

That she’s much more intelligent and deeper than you are giving her credit for.

That she is Machiavellian.

That she resents putting on an act and (cue the tour visuals) is using her final era to put a nail in her own performance art coffin and burning her media reputation to the ground on her way out?

Perhaps, these songs — much like the songs on Midnights — will make sense to you as the clock ticks and more is revealed. After all, wasn’t it the Gaylors who said Midnights was a breakup album? Oh but we got crucified for it until the tour started and she dropped You’re Losing Me to make it all suddenly make sense. God bless the patience of Taylor Swift because having to spell it out for you dipshits when you don’t even fucking have enough brain cells to comprehend what she’s writing about is INSANE.

If it’s not about Joe and it’s not about Matty and it’s not about Travis then I wonder what it could possibly be about…

Well maybe, just maybe, you’ll discover that all along…you weren’t even listening.

[piglinmyfeet]

YES please pretty please talk about your historical life series au

So, the setting is roughly late 1900s to early 1910s. Pre-war era England. London to be specific, though I am looking for a specific year to set this in (partly for the sake of character design)

The au contains all members of the life series, but some don't have set roles yet and I'm open to input on those, as well as ideas for characters who already have roles

The central characters are Joel and Scar (and to an extent, Grian), though the story is more from Joel's perspective overall.

Joel is an artist, as a reference to his empires s1. He was raised by his aunt and uncle in Yorkshire, along with his cousin but moved to London at a young age to pursue his career in art.

Scar is an American nouveau riche car manufacturer (a reference to hermitcraft S8) who recently moved to England and is a new patron of Joel's art.

Ren is Scar's old money neighbour who has a suspiciously familiar manservant. Spoiler but Ren is also the legitimate brother of Joel.

Martyn was the second son of an Earl and highly respected officer in the British army, however he died recently. Another spoiler, he faked his death and is disguised as Ren's manservant.

Grian is another neighbour of Scar's, though his family's wealth goes back much less far. Grian grew up with Martyn and Ren but has a deep hatred for the two of them and is determined to find something to ruin their reputation, such as an illegitimate sibling or the truth about a suspicious death.

Gem is an officer in the British army who replaced Martyn after his death. She has been disguised as a man since joining the army and is widely disrespected due to her age, despite how strict she is with the troops, rivalling many other officers.

Etho is an older army officer and the only person who knows Gem's status as he was the one who helped her make her way into the army.

Cleo is Martyns so called widow, making her a dowager. Don't ask why there was so much alcohol at her husbands funeral, a woman may cope however she pleases.

Scott is Cleo's new fiancé after the death of Martyn. He is a bankrupt noble due to a series of bad investments at the hand of his older brother and has agreed to marrying a wealthy dowager (Cleo)

Lizzie is Joel's ex-fiance who went missing a few years ago. Yet another spoiler, she got heavily involved in the suffragette movement (theyre the violent ones, the suffragists were the more peaceful ones) and is on the run from the law and under Cleos protection.

The two with less fleshed out roles at the moment are Jimmy, Joel's cousin he was raised with in Yorkshire, and Mumbo, a mechanic who works for Scar, so they need to be further developed

Then there's Pearl, Impulse, Bdubs, Skizz, BigB are Tango who I honestly have no clue where to fit them in here so please give me ideas 🥺👉👈 i literally love using that sequence of emojis its so silly

Places I took inspiration from for this are: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder (Musical), The Unexpected Heiress (Visual Novel) and The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue (Book Series)

The last one is set in a completely different time period (1700s), however I took inspiration from it's mystery aspects (this also only applies to the first two books in the series) (it also has no relation to GGLAM, ignore their similar names, and the fact both have main characters who go by Monty)

(By the way, don't expect perfect historical accuracy, this is not the time period I've studied the most extensively. The one I have studied is not really suitable for Minecraft fanfiction, however I am still a history lover.)

[macaroonff]

Taste- Lee Minho

Genre: Undercover detective x gang leader; the roaring 20s Paring: Minho x fem reader Content Warnings: Spice (no smut),mentions of alcohol, inaccurate historical representation, not intended to be factually correct, please forgive any inaccuracies. Word Count: 5.6k Suggested Songs: Taste- Stray Kids Whatever Lola Wants- Ella Fitzgerald Fall in Love With Swing- Trio Manouche Smooth Operator- Sade

Refer to this for context regarding specific terms in bold

No one would ever fathom how utterly guilty Lee Minho felt with his tongue driven down your throat in one of the many dressing rooms the jazz club contained. He hated how his sweaty palms digging into your lower back barely managed to keep both of you steady against the rough wall.

He despised how desperately you held onto the lapels of his tweed suit, as the cold pearls around your neck jingle against his watch with every turn of your head. Every jingle was followed by a gasp, and together they seemed to override the perky jazz coming from the stage. 

He hated how he was stuck here, unable to release himself from his hedonistic urges, to the point where he neglected his work, the reason he entered this shabby club. 

Priv. Detective Lee wasn't supposed to be here today, not in your embrace, not under your enchantment, not under the influence of something he was prohibited from. 

Alcohol.

Despite his deceptive actions and seemingly careless attitude towards alcohol at parties, Lee Minho had a restrained regimen for himself. Especially when he’s working, which is almost everyday.

He only lets himself go when necessary in social gatherings, in  those crowded salons where everyone had their eye on him, forced to follow skewed norms to strengthen his reputation as an owner of a winery acreage in France. A false identity pasted on him to get any sort of tip-off in this industry.

The industry where smuggling had become as common as a family buying a car.

Last Sunday, when he happened to be at another one of these parties, he was invited by his neighbour Mr Brown to a different wine tasting session at a strange, albeit new jazz club, rumoured to sell cheap booze. Of course he’d go.

Not just because of the "good" alcohol, but because of the fact that any place selling cheaper goods meant that it was smuggled. Not necessarily, and not always; but in this day and age he was sure it could be nothing else.

So he enters this somewhat run down club behind the busy streets of downtown Chicago, surprisingly packed with locals, a pungent smell of alcohol immediately welcoming him. A smell he thought he was used to, but clearly not enough to refrain from wincing, his eyebrows furrowed at the chaos and the crowd; at the suffocation he felt walking in.

At the centre of this chaos stood, in all her glory, the lead singer, her sweet voice accentuated by the saxophone, the quartet following it. She stood below the dim yellow chandelier hung above her as a spotlight, in her white satin, semi beaded dress which fell just below her knees, rather provocative.

He doesn't look away until Brown reminds him of the wine testing and ushers him towards a VIP parlour.

He makes his way through the crowd, pushing against bodies dancing the Charleston, a recently popular dance that Minho found amusing. All of this while he probes the ins and outs of the club, looking for all entry ways through which big cartons could arrive, as well as places for them to be stored.

All he found was a door that appeared to lead into the dressing rooms. That didn't deter his ambitions though, because he knew that behind this lively exterior, there had to be secrets involved . He would do whatever he had to in order to uncover the operation.

If he had any flaws, it would be this, that he was too stubborn to give up on what his intuition said. He was hard headed, but in no way was he stupid. He'd be devious if it was necessary, he'd lie if he had to. He'd also seduce if it was extreme.

It wasn't his first time trying seduction. He'd done it before, at least six attempts, and maybe five successful ones. The last one was into girls, and he hoped, fairly desperate that this one wasn't.

After a while, he uses needing a trip to the toilet as a somewhat acceptable reason for leaving the now boring session. The drunk men weren't their most reasonable, and paid no heed to the poor excuse. Apparently being a connoisseur meant taking proper breaks. He shrugs it off with a smile, promising to come back in some time.

Lies.

He was long gone to meet his mysterious flapper who he surveyed every corner for.

Under the new frosted light bulbs bought for the bar, you find yourself in the company of many men and women alike, all desperately trying to sink their teeth into your precious minutes. All of whom you appreciated but wanted nothing to do with. Most of them were here to sign record deals from new radio channels wanting to capitalise on the upcoming modern woman movement. All of which you supported but didn't see yourself working as.

Not because you liked working as the main singer for a rundown jazz club. But because your actual work meant that you were never supposed to find fame. Fame meant prying eyes, and nosey neighbours; something you'd have none of in this lifetime.

Why risk it for fame, when you had important business to take care of here?

You had to make sure that not a single thing was out of line and that not a single person would ever find out about the second business run here.

So far, you've done a good job at pretending to be the club's owner's sister. And although it was true, the story behind renovating your grandma's old house into a jazz club wasn't. There was no grandma's old house, there was no renovation, no grandma either. This was always a place for trade.

Your kind of trade. Where you’d find the good dupes and sell it at a higher price, and the actual bottles would be shipped out for a lump sum.

The excess or the bad bottles would be sold in this club, at a discount. It was pretty simple actually, and it made you money.

Sure it was illegal. But sometimes you needed the money, no questions asked. This was how your family knew to fend. This is how you'd continue to fend for yourself.

The risks you took were calculated, and you weren't afraid.

While your brother looked after the actual shipments, you'd deliver intel, in control of all the information passing through here. Nothing happening in town would ever slip away from your grasp.

So what if it was a jazz club?

Most people from different backgrounds always ended up at "The Charmer". Most people let themselves go. They always end up telling the bartender about their business, the dirty dealings that they've also been up to. The fact that most were more grey than the white that they appeared to be.

It was no different for you.

And if there was any difference, it was that you'd never let yourself slip-up. You weren't stupid. You weren't a naïve little Tomato like most believe. Even if you did find yourself faltering, you'd know how to convince others into changing their mind about you.

The same way you knew you could convince Mr Brown that you were interested in the specificities of wine when he almost caught you switching bottles from the basement. You barely convinced him, saying that true wine from France would have plum and black cherry aromas, which it did have. Lucky for you, Mr Brown had no idea that dupes could have chemical fragrances added to them too, because he'd never had to collect wine right from the port. Defeated, he said he'd ask his "very dear friend" to figure out the truth.

At first, you were shocked that there was another wine connoisseur you didn't know of, but after asking your people to investigate, you realised why Mr Brown was so confident. Why he was after your tail.

You knew he was new to this part of town; an insanely handsome, Big Cheese foreigner who wasn't yet used to life in America.

That his speciality was French Wine, and that if he was rich here, he was even richer back home. That he might even be a scofflaw, since he hung around in as many alcohol parties as he could, including the ones for the middle class. This piques your interest, and in a long while, you haven't been as excited to unearth someone's mask.

Now, all you had to do was wait. Because you hoped, no, you knew he would come to find you tonight, regardless of never having spoken before. Because most people do the first time they visit this club.

Most people come looking for you when you're done singing. Because they're enthralled, curious, or physically attracted to you. Because you're almost too beautiful for them to admire from a distance.

These weren't just based on what you heard, but accounts from your members, beyond tired of regulars ravishing about you. But that wasn't enough . You needed beyond sensuality to tempt and guarantee clients. Sure your circle of customers had grown over the last five years since you took over, but that didn't mean the risk had dissipated.

So while your confidence was with justification, your anxiety insisted on you keeping things tight-lipped. You had to know everything that occurred in this paltry but pertinent place.

Maybe that was why you were grateful when your target approaches you of his own accord. His deep brown eyes intent on yours, his long hands embellished by his expensive Rolex oyster- an wrist watch only few would dream of affording-, an orange tie loosened as though he had drunk the daylights out of himself.

He was perfect. Both handsome and tipsy, there was nothing more you'd want out of a potential threat?

"Stunning performance," you hear a deep voice say, in a slurred accent, you can't tell if it was because he was French, or just drunk.

"Thanks, first time here?" you ask.

He nods, leaning ahead. "Mr Brown told me, you have some really good wine down here, something I might be familiar with."

"Ahh you must be the foreigner Mr Brown keeps raving about... Mr?"

"Just call me Claude," he replies sweetly.

You raise your eyebrow. Was he so private as to not let his last name slip? You call the bartender over.

"A bottle of our finest Cheval Blanc." you look back and smile at him.

Claude smirks. "I'm familiar with this wine you know. It's made from the labour of my vineyards."

You examine his face, looking for any sign of deceit. You'd come across many con artists, most of whom didn't have adequate expertise in alcohol. Nobody knew the real in a world where fake was deliberately greater. But here's someone who claimed to know, here's someone who you were sure was lying, despite no hint of deceit.

Why would a rich French billionaire come down personally to your shabby store, instead of asking someone else to collect it?

Unless he had something to prove.

Soon the glasses are laid out, and half a bottle poured. You wait as he swirls the glass in his hand. Despite the loud jazz, you hear nothing but the sound of ice clinking in his glass, and the aroma of plum piercing through, making it difficult for you to breathe. You realise, that after a long time, you're nervous. You see him smell the alcohol briefly.

The cup reaches his lips, and he closes his pretty eyes. You watch him gulp a miniscule sip down. It is silent as his eyelashes flutter slowly as his mouth twitches in slight distaste. Just as anyone else would frown, but for some reason his seemed deliberate, somewhat dangerous.

Dangerous was what Lee Minho thought you were, with the real thing in the glass in front of him. Somehow, he knew it wasn't a dupe. It had the same percentage of alcohol as he knew it should, and not one flavour felt out of place. But then again, he couldn't be sure; he wasn't actually the person he claimed to be. He wasn't an actual connoisseur. If this was the real thing, then it made no sense for you to sell it at a discount.

"Why is one bottle so cheap?" he asks carefully, leaning against the counter. This time, he looks at you in search of deceit. Instead all he reads is a hint of surprise on your face, along with a little bit of glee, he couldn't be sure.

"You should know after tasting them shouldn't you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, a small smile on your lips, as though you had it all figured out.

Lee Minho falters, suddenly unarmed. What did that mean? Did you admit that it was fake? Or were you trying to gauge his identity?

A wrong answer now, and he'd give himself away.

"Of course I know why, but I'd rather hear from you." he avoids, to which you don't reply.

He needs to draw everything from you. "The discounts are unreasonably low, especially for a Cheval Blanc. It almost hurts my pride," he playfully pouts.

He sees you shaking your head in slight disappointment, an amused smile along with it. "You shouldn't worry about that, you're not losing any money here," you whisper close to his ear.

He tries so hard to ignore the smell of may rose and jasmine that accompanied your Chanel no. 5 parfum, and he tried to ignore how some of the others gaped at him, envious of how close he'd gotten to you.

"How can I be sure?" he questions his breath slightly arrhythmic.

How would you know rather, whether a rich business man would have lost his money? Really nobody would know unless they went through the ledgers. Something you were sure didn't exist in his company, or else he'd know just how much he'd lost.

Everything he said pointed to him being a careless business owner, something you thought would never be possible for a man so rich. You scan through his appearance again, his suit looked genuine, the tweed proper. You even gently caress the back of his broad lapels to confirm. He was rich, but was he anything close to the person he says he is?

Out of all the people you met in this small place, there was one thing you knew too well. If something or someone is too good to be true, it probably was. He was no vineyard owner from France, foreigner maybe, but not someone who knows business.

Something about the way he tried so desperately to gauge your business instead of you meant that he wasn't here to play, nor was he here to strike a deal. Most businesses that advertise try to get their way into you, instead of the business. They usually came knowing you were a snake charmer, someone who could sell all the bad ones for better prices. Selling rejected alcohol ended up being a way for them to reduce their losses.

The man in front of you, "Claude", could be one of two things. An embalmer like you, jealous of the profit you're making; or someone here to investigate your business. A situation you were familiar with.

Multiple cops had come to investigate before, all of whom were easy to shut up. However the person in front of you didn't feel like a cop, he didn't try to exert power, nor did he try to undermine yours. A man so hard to read, you weren't sure how to make head or tail of who he really was.

"Hmm, only if you tell me why you don't think it should be sold for less" you offer, laying out your cards in front of him. His response would determine if he was a tremendous master of deception.

"It is indeed the real thing; however the aroma feels diluted, although the drink's concentration seems correct. It is from a batch of wine of secondary quality made from bad grapes. However the year it was made in, suffered from excessive rain, and the waterlogged condition meant that production had reduced that year. It would make sense for you to sell it for a higher price due to excess demand."

You smirk, as he answers correctly. Somehow, he knew his stuff. The details however did feel as if he had thoroughly prepared for an interrogation.

"Unfortunately the people who buy here don't care about a particular year, they care just for the alcohol. It matters to only a few, such as Mr Brown and your friends who care enough to investigate, Claude."

"We're just curious, since we're linked to the same industry. I hope you don't take it the wrong way miss...?" he enquires, his eyes never leaving your lips.

"My name is a secret for those the first three times, if you return after our third meeting, I'll tell you. For now, goodbye; I have other patrons to meet."

With that you leave hastily, already unnerved at the fact that he somehow picked at your disguise. Annoyed yet excited.

After a long time, you find something vaguely resembling a challenge, and the following meetings would ensure that you get every second worth of thrill from him. You'd make sure that Claude, or whatever his handsome name was would only tread carefully from now.

Lee Minho should've known better, that a woman so beautiful was so secretive. That a woman so desired in this mysterious club would obviously play hard to get. Did it help that she was also the owner of this place? No it did not.

But what did help was that a set of the smoothest pearls had fallen into his lap, and either on purpose or by accident, you had left him your necklace. Lee Minho couldn't decipher your intent, but at the very least, he found himself an excuse. It was as though petty fate that stopped him before was helping him proceed in this mission.

He searches for you in the crowd with continuous effort, but you seem to have disappeared a long time ago, as though your conversation with him was just another of his delusions. Lee Minho also realises that he's a little tipsy. He's starting to sweat under the warm suit in the crowded room, and he feels his heart rate pick up rapidly. Unlike how he had become tolerant of the alcohol here in Chicago, he wasn't used to this club as an entity, he especially wasn't used to you. For a trained detective like Minho, two minutes was all it took for him to decipher what a person desires, what their intentions are, but you were so hard to read. He had never felt so incompetent, so out of it before. He looks back at the bartender, who had offered him another free drink.

"What do they call her, that flapper?"

"She isn't just any flapper," the man replies with a smirk, "she's the most famous in the city, her stage name is Estelle Vin."

"Is she always that... mysterious? I can't help be drawn to her," Minho confesses foolishly, wanting to gauge the bartender further.

"Well, you're not the only one." the bartender jokes.

"Well then I'll need these," he reveals. the pearls dangling from his hand, "if you know what I mean," he flashes a wink, pretending to be a lovesick fool, unsure if it was pretention on his part.

Lee Minho leaves with a small stumble, feeling the blood rush to his ears, his entire body getting warm. His vision is somewhat blurry, as he pushes his way towards the door he was eyeing before, his hands clutching the pearls close to his chest in his breast-pocket, holding on as though his entire life depended on it, and maybe it did.

He had to duck through the entrance to the dressing rooms, where he found himself standing in a complex maze. There were doors to the right and left of him, and a long corridor leading down. The shabby exterior was deceptive of the space within the club, and he could barely believe that it was just a small, rundown club that lured people in. He walks further down the corridor, when a singer comes out of a door on the left. She looks at him, startled by his intrusion. "Who...?How did you enter? It's authorised personals only."

He quickly apologises, and in convoluted sentences that his brain pushed out, explained that he had something to return. "The door was unlocked, and I need to see Ms Vin."

The lights dimmed nearby, signalling that a new performance was about to start. The stranger looks rushed and tries to shoo him away.

"Get out, and stop acting like a stalker. This would ruin your reputation Mr Claude Landry."

Lee Minho's eyebrows furrow in confusion. Why did a singer working here know his surname? He had only disclosed it to Mr Brown and a few other aristocrats. He was sure that most of them were tight-lipped about it, but now he was somewhat alarmed. Of course, as a man of public curiosity, along with him being a foreigner, it may not be as alarming. Maybe a clerk saw him sign as Landry, and he overruled his previous suspicions. Absorbed in his thoughts, he slowly back away from this new area shrouded in mystery, until he feels the floor under his feet vibrating, as though something heavy was moving below.

"There's no way what I'm feeling is an earthquake now ma'am?" he questions, his suspicions aroused for perhaps the hundredth time in the night.

"I think you've had too much of hooch Mr Landry," the stranger replies.

Sure, he was somewhat intoxicated but there's no way he'd be this gone. He also made sure that the bartender didn't have any chance to spike his drink, which makes him feel fluky. The feeling increases, and he swears he can hear glass shatter below him, although faint. The Whangdoodle from the stage increases their volume as this happens, and Minho finds his ears ringing.

It was at that moment you spring out of your dressing room, almost alarmed. "Why are they so lou-" you exclaim but stop when you notice Minho.

His eyes look into yours, and for a second he feels relieved to see someone he knows, though barely. At least the situation didn't seem as unfamiliar as it did before.

"It's loud isn't it Ms Vin?" he asks, back to his stoic self, as though examining your anxious demeanour.

You hold back a breath, unsure how to answer the question. A new shipment was supposed to arrive today, and they're usually stored in the basement, which unfortunately happened to be right below where you were standing. You'd ensure that the entrance to this area was secure, but most of the men had gone to help carry the shipment in, which happened to be in excess today, and you must have left it open when you came back with your head muddled with thoughts of Minho. It was scary. The fate that usually favoured you, happened to be sabotaging you today.

"Yeah, the band is louder than usual, I should probably check on them."

You locked your door to stop him from entering, and nod at your colleague. She tries to usher Minho back to the main area, and you also try to leave past him. He grabs your hands instead, and you feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"This must be yours," you see your pearls drop from his hands, clinking against his watch.

You only now notice that your neck was bare, putting your hand against it. Another sound erupts from the basement, and you get frantic. You watch as your colleague runs down to the basement to make them aware of how conspicuously loud they were being. Minho is quick to follow her with his eyes, suspicion written all over his face.

In spontaneity, you pull him into the dressing room you had previously locked. It was a last resort to distract him, stupid as it was.

"I... I can wear the necklace here," you say, pulling him closer to you. "Or maybe you'd like to put it on me?" you try flirtatiously hoping to keep his attention on just you. You sit down on the red chair, and remove the makeup from the counter. Luckily for you, Minho seems to appreciate this opportunity just as much as you, walking closer until his hand rests on your naked shoulders. He carefully held your long bob in a fist, placing the cold pearls as delicately as he could around your neck, taking his sweet time. As he moves in closer, you feel his warm breath fanning your ear, where you're taken aback by his rapid breathing. You could feel his sigh travel down your spine as he bends to snap the necklace in place. It felt like he was holding himself back, deliberate. Careful. Once he's done clasping the necklace, you look at him through the mirror, his eyes focused on you. You see him take your appearance in, and a small gasp leaves his mouth.

"You look beautiful y/n," he says in a deeper voice, taking you by surprise. You weren't taken aback by the compliment itself but by the fact that you had never once given him your real name, and the only thing he could find out was your stage name. Even some of your closest workers were hidden from your real identity.

But you didn't want to confirm this with this stranger, deciding it would be best to feign innocence. You furrow your brows as though it was annoyance. "Who's y/n? Your wife? A lover? A tomato you fell in love with?"

He smirks, "Future wife, maybe. Lover, if we're looking to start from today" he counters, snarky, yet in a weird way seductive. At this point you were beyond alarmed and tried extremely hard to keep yourself grounded to this new predicament.

"What do you mean by we? Besides if you want to address me, then you can call me Estelle."

"Well, are you jealous Estelle? Cause to be honest I'd rather call out your name later instead of y/n. I really hope you aren't y/n."

Who was he and Why did he care so much? Maybe he was mistaken, your name might be popular in France, or wherever he's from. Because there's no way he was referring to you.

You wanted to change the conversation desperately, you absolutely had to. In so many years of hiding behind a façade, it was scary having it disintegrated, crumble in seconds by a mere stranger.

"I'm not jealous, Claude. I don't think you should be here, unless you have more to speculate?"

He says nothing, instead he reaches for his breast-pocket for the umpteenth time, removing his linen handkerchief engraved with C.L and a classic fountain pen with gold borders.

"Time and date, for our next meeting," he asks sweetly, a charming smile painted on his lips.

You take his pen and examine it carefully. "Looks expensive, must be a family heirloom," you ask carelessly.

Minho smiles, as though he had already won this game of deception. Did he actually know your name? No. But he made a somewhat educated guess. Like most of the women of the time, you had tattooed on your back your social security number. As a celebration of autonomy, it had become a popular trend, which you also seemed to have followed. Luckily, for him, he had access to the case of a few bootleggers who were hidden so well that the only thing that could be traced was the social security number on someone's back. The number belonged to y/n l/n. Did it help that the social security number had no pictures? No. But did it help that the numbers on your back were visible to him as he placed the necklace on you? Of course it did. He decided to take a dangerous bet, and observe your reaction.

Beyond your unperturbed expression, he could see a shift in your body language, your fingers clasped onto your necklace tighter for some time, before you recovered, your confident face wavering and your beautiful eyes shifting away from him . All he had to do was catch you in the act.

"You're such a liar Claude." you say out of nowhere. "What are you? A cop? you say also catching him off-guard.

"A cop, those incompetent people with a meagre salary? Of course I'm not, don't be ridiculous darling." he replies slowly.

He watches you smile, a menacing one that pretended to be comforting. "It was a joke, of course you're not a cop, you're big cheese around here," he takes the handkerchief from you, where he sees all you've written on it is "today" with a red lipstick stain on it.

"Today?" he raises an eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah, unless your bank's closed?" you entice.

He smiles and pulls you in swiftly. His unexpectedly rough hand that you would not expect someone rich to have, is on your back, drawing circles as his lips are pushed against yours. You taste the same cheap wine you had offered him towards the back of his tongue, except that it tasted so much better this way. You could taste remnants of the fake plum flavouring, mixed with the scent of your Chanel no 5 parfum taking over all your senses. You feel as his cold fingers trace definitely around your back. "Three" he whispers, "Eight," he continues, moving leftwards, causing goosebumps where he'd left his impression. "One" he continues. You pause for a moment, confused at the numbers he was repeating, until it eventually dawns on you. You push him away worried, your pearls clinking as you move back. "Anything wrong?" he asks innocently. You knew you couldn't directly admit to being a criminal. He wouldn't know just by your social security number, unless he was working with someone important. But he also somehow knew your name.

At this point you knew he wasn't a French Casanova, observing how his supposed "heirloom" had different initials engraved on the pen, L.M., which you were sure didn't belong to a Claude Landry, or that of a real family. It must have been a stolen good bought illegally, or that L.M were his real initials. The only way you could find out was if you played along.

"Nothing, I just needed a breather, your kisses are quite intense," you make a stupid excuse. Despite realising that you weren't yourself around him, you go back to making out with this handsome stranger, his hands going back to where they were until he managed to trace your entire number. He removes his tweed suit, and lifts up your dress until it was hiked far above your thighs, and with every movement the tassels of your dress get tangled up near his zip. You unbutton his cotton shirt, holding the fabric close, revealing his chest which was so much warmer than your hands. A chill blows through the window, and you shiver in between his warm touches. He stops there for a minute, and eyes the bottle of rum on your counter. He lifts you with ease, and places you on the counter, where your social number was reflected in the mirror, as though everything about you had finally been revealed.

"We should make our last toast," he speaks up breathless, sipping out of the bottle, then holding it to your lips. You accept, and gulp down more than you usually do. Something tells you it would be the last time you'd be this delirious, yet so satisfied. It was like with every kiss, he meant to take you down, in more ways than one. His kisses travelled down your body, scattered, frenzied. He kissed as though this was the first and only time he'd be this close to you. Soon you also gave in to the delicate pressure with all your being, overruling your innate intuition, lost in his seduction.

You were so guilty of doing this. Of finding comfort in the way he moaned your name, your real name, in low whispers, something you'd never trust anyone to do. And it didn't matter what secrets he hid when he made you feel this good. Though you were always guilty of lying to others, so was he. In a weird way, for tonight both of you would be equals- equally guilty parties for betraying yourselves.

Similarly, no one would ever fathom how utterly guilty Lee Minho felt with his tongue driven down your throat, enjoying it despite knowing you were a criminal. It was as though he couldn't let go, and for a minute he felt like none of it mattered, and that you were as innocent as your kisses fluttering over his collarbones. For tonight, he'd become the sinner, not you.

The same Lee Minho who hated being drunk during work hours, was beyond pleased, convincing himself that it was just for tonight. For just this night, he'd given into this hedonistic urge, of wanting nothing but a taste of your body, of your attention and your entire world which he would eventually have to destroy tomorrow. But tomorrow was so many kisses, so many secrets and so many bottles of alcohol later. So he continued deluding himself with your moans and soft lips, until he could no longer despise himself for his new intoxication: you.

Hi there, a small repost. I thought this read better as a single post instead of a two part, hence why some transitions may be bad.

I hope you enjoyed

<3 macaroon

[goodqueenaly]

since you clearly know your history, do you think aegon iv's situation with his mistresses while he was king was handled realistically? weren't official king's mistresses married off before taking on their positions because any bastard children sired needed a legal father? falena was married off but there's no mention of barba, melissa, or the other women after aegon iv ascended having husbands. i mean, obviously barba needed to be unwed so she could have a chance of becoming queen but if melissa wanted to establish herself as a non-grasping replacement, shouldn't she go get a husband so naerys, aemon, and daeron couldn't feel threatened? and even if melissa was a super nice person, how she could she remain "well-loved" at court while publicly having bastards and one of them is an albino? wouldn't her reputation be ruined if aegon iv dropped her and she remained unmarried after that?

I think the historical record is somewhat mixed on that point. Think of, for example, GRRM’s, ugh, favorite point of reference for Aegon IV, Henry VIII (yeah, I know): Bessie Blount was not married at the time she was in a relationship with the king (and conceived Henry Fitzroy with him), though she did marry after her son’s birth, while it’s entirely unclear when Mary Boleyn married relative to when she and Henry VIII had their relationship (and, of course, Henry offered to make Anne Boleyn his mistress while she was unmarried). Likewise, if we look to Charles II - another inspiration, I think, for Aegon IV, no less so because I tend to think he named Barba Bracken after Charles’ long-term mistress Barbara Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland - the record is far from one-sided: Barbara herself, for example, was married during their relationship of course, but the king’s two primary mistresses at the end of his life, Louise de Kerouaille and Nell Gwynn, were both unmarried for the whole of their lives (and as much as James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, Charles’ eldest extramarital son, might have claimed that Charles had married his mother, Lucy Walter, when the two were exiles in the Netherlands, Charles himself vehemently denied the supposed marriage, which had no evidence of its existence otherwise). Too, Louis XIV - not perhaps explicitly cited by GRRM as an inspiration for Aegon the Unworthy, but certainly a king famous for his love affairs - had both married and unmarried mistresses: while Louise de La Vallière was unmarried (and later ended her life as a repentant nun), the Marquise de Montespan did have a husband (who notoriously held a “funeral” for his wife after she became the king’s mistress); the widower King Louis did, almost certainly, end up marrying his last mistress, the similarly widowed Marquise de Maintenon. (There is also the story that when one of Louis’ early loves, Marie de Mancini, married her eventual husband, Prince Colonna, the prince was surprised to discover that his wife was a virgin, as he said he had not expected to find “innocence among the loves of kings”.) Again, these are only a very few, very limited examples, but I think it’s fair enough to say that GRRM could have felt, let’s say somewhat historically comforted by having Aegon IV’s mistresses be (mostly) unmarried women. 

In any event, I don’t think it was a necessity that Melissa Blackwood be married in order for her to be seen as unthreatening to the queen. While the details of Melissa’s life, especially her time as Aegon’s mistress, are frustratingly thin and vague based on our current knowledge, it does seem that Melissa went out of her way to curry favor with Queen Naerys, Prince Daeron, and Prince Aemon - a step that Barba Bracken almost certainly never took, if she was looking to replace Naerys as queen (and perhaps have her son Aegor replace Daeron as heir). It is also worth pointing out, of course, that in the aftermath of Barba’s, and probably more generally Lord Bracken’s and his faction’s, failed attempt to have Barba marry the king, Melissa and whatever faction was supporting her may have emphasized that Melissa had no such ambitions in order to distinguish her from the disgraced former mistress. Additionally, the fact that Melissa did not have a son with the king until a few years after their relationship began may have also served as some reassurance to the queen, Prince Daeron, and Prince Aemon: not only, perhaps, did Melissa appear not to want to replace the queen, but she had no ready would-be heir, as Barba had had, to promote in place of Daeron and strengthen her ambition to create a new royal family. 

Naturally, because we know nothing about why Melissa was sent away from court, or what happened to her after, we have no idea how her brief years as the king’s chief mistress affected her life or her socio-political prospects thereafter. I do tend to think that Melissa didn’t live a long life after leaving court, though when and how she might have died is obviously completely unclear. In any event, though, I could see where Melissa’s positive reputation, especially if she died relatively young, might have been preserved at court: the kind-hearted, widely beloved young woman, perhaps driven from the court by those no-good-very-bad Brackens who had then replaced her with a “faithless” mistress. Once King Daeron II came to the throne himself, the new king may have been even more inclined to think fondly of the woman who had treated himself and his late mother and uncle with respect and deference, where few if any other of his father’s mistresses had - “better this mistress than any other”, perhaps, to paraphrase the Queen of France on the subject of her husband’s beloved mistress, Madame de Pompadour. (Naturally as well, once Bloodraven came into power and influence, especially after the First Blackfyre Rebellion, he would likely have done much to promote the positive legend of his mother, especially in contrast to the surviving reputation of Barba Bracken - a legacy that I think will be central to the conflict of “The Village Hero”). 

It’s also worth pointing out that while King Aegon’s identified chief mistresses after his ascension seem to have been unmarried young women, this is not to say that the king probably limited his sexual liaisons during his reign only to these individuals. After all, Yandel notes in his overview of Daeron II’s reign that during Aegon IV’s rule, the men of the City Watch of King’s Landing whom the king promoted “made sure that the brothels—and even the decent women of the city—were available for Aegon’s lusts”; I think it’s probably fair to say Yandel likely included “married” in his definition of “decent”. Moreover, while Yandel identified Jeyne Lothston as Aegon IV’s chief mistress after the downfall of Bethany Bracken, the maester-author also suggested that the king “enjoyed mother and daughter together in the same bed”, after Falena Lothston (nee Stokeworth) brought young Jeyne to court (a disturbing rumor, of course, when paired with the additional suggestion by Yandel that Jeyne had been fathered by the king, not Lord Lucas). I fully expect that when we learn more about Aegon IV’s reign (especially given the, ugh, high likelihood of even more unnecessary sexual exploits to be highlighted in Fire and Blood Volume 2), Aegon’s omnivorous sexual desire, including for married women, will be underlined. 

[dotthings]

The denialism and revisionist history going on pushing the fairy tale that Nexstar CW is the only CW era with problems that required calling out, and the invalidation towards any criticism of the pre-Nexstar eras, have gone completely off the rails.

Perpetuating these fairy tales and the erasure of CW Network's long-running history of issues helps enable the broken system people claim they care about denouncing.

The reality of CW Network history: Racism, homophobia, poor set practices, toxic abusive showrunners, systemic failure to support actors especially in marginalized groups, and fan base after fan base used for engagement and then treated badly.

These are systemic industry issues, not confined to any one network. CW became a lightning rod for it because it was unusually concentrated from one platform, so it stuck out and CW earned a terrible reputation, long before the sale.

To combat the revisionist history and denialism, behind the cut is a timeline with a few of the egregoius systemic problems that have plagued the CW historically and reflect severe enabling and lack of oversight on the part of the network.

Nexstar Media era acquired the CW on October 3, 2022.

The harm starts at the very beginning, though. On January 24, 2006, The CW was born. In its founding, The CW destroyed an entire slate of Black-led series on UPN and the resulting network was extremely white.

Candice Patton, in EW, reflecting on the early seasons of The Flash and how she had to speak up and advocate for herself and for Iris West (date of article May 23, 2023, but refers to pre-Nexstar CW) “The scariest thing is speaking up, and I had a hard time talking about it for such a long time because you're so afraid of being seen as problematic," she says. "That's a word that no actor wants to have follow them around. But I think we're learning that speaking up and speaking out is the only way for change. And it's not about blaming people or canceling people, it's about just really being able to have a conversation so that the industry changes for the better. And I hope that whatever struggles I may have had, doing that has made it even the smallest amount easier for the next crop of actors coming up who feel like they need to be heard and seen and accommodated for."

July 8, 2022, EW. Candice Patton reveals how she considered quitting The Flash in S2 due to racist fans and The CW and WB didn’t give her the support she needed, and reflects on how she was treated differently than her co-stars:

"Even with the companies I was working with, The CW and WB, that was their way of handling it. We know better now that it's not okay to treat your talent that way, and to let them go through this abuse and harassment. But for me in 2014, there were no support systems. No one was looking out for that. It was just free range to get abused every single day. There were no social media protocols in place to protect me, so they just let all that stuff sit there….It's just not enough to make me your lead female and say, 'Look at us, we're so progressive, we checked the box.' It's great, but you've put me in the ocean alone around sharks. It's great to be in the ocean, but I can get eaten alive out here…It was more about the protocols in place and the things I see happening for my white counterparts that's not happening to me. Seeing how I was treated differently than other people, seeing how I'm not protected by the network and the studio, those were the things that not necessarily hurt me but frustrated me."

January 28, 2022, Sunstroke Magazine - Looking Back On Kat Graham's Racist and Anti-Semitic Experience on 'The Vampire Diaries’ A summary: * Kat Graham endured racist and antisemitic comments from a co-worker. * The show forced her to wear a wig when she recommended using her natural hair for Bonnie * Ian Somerhalder had to step up to protect Kat, threatening to quit the show if Bonnie was killed off or written out * Showrunners shot down the idea of Bonnie being queer and was patronizing to Bonnie fans * Here’s a compilation of Kat Graham and her character Bonnie being mistreated during the run of TVD:

October 2021, EW and THR - Ruby Rose accuses CW and WBTV of bad set practices and that they were forced to keep filming 10 days after major surgery she had to undergo after being injured doing a stunt and called out bad practices that harmed crew and endangered everyone on set. CW and WBTV denied everything

June 7, 2021, Hypebae, Candice Patton speaking on issues concerning how PoC are treated at CW and systemically in the TV industry

November 22, 2020, Popsugar - The all-black cast of the superhero series Black Lightning have to find out from social media that the show is cancelled and are given no advance warning. China Anne McClain reveals she was going to quit the show even if it had continued: “For different reasons, that, to be honest, I don't want to go into. I just want y'all to trust me on it."

November 9, 2020, Slashfilm - 'Superman & Lois' Writer Nadria Tucker Says She Was Fired After Raising Issues With CW Show's Sexism And Racism

San Diego Comic Con 2017: the cast of Supergirl singing a song to mock a predominantly queer fanbase for the Supercorp ship

March 14, 2016, Variety - “What TV Can Learn From ‘The 100’ Mess” in the wake of The 100 killing off Lexa, an openly queer character.

April 6, 2016, EW - The 100: Ricky Whittle says showrunner 'abused' him off the show May 6, 2015 - Season 10, episode 21 of SPN "Dark Dynasty" airs, killing the show's only recurring openly queer character at that point, Charlie Bradbury.

It’s common knowledge Daman Salvatore is bi in The Vampire Diaries books. The character on the show, one of “classic CW”’s biggest hits, was straightwashed.

2013: Misha Collins at NJ Con comments on how women are treated on SPN:

2024: Misha Collins at Purcon 8 shades the CW for placing representation caps on queer rep at SPN

The fact CW had other queer rep does not preclude the existence of pinkwashing, queer erasure, or queer censorship)

November 2020: in the wake of Castiel's romantic love confession to Dean Winchester and in the immediate aftermath of the end of SPN, the nature of the confession was ommitted in all official promotional material and Misha Collins hinted he was told he couldn't talk about Cas's pov. Eventually, Misha Collins was able to speak openly that the writer intention and the story and everyone who worked on the scene intended it as a romantic love confession and that Cas is queer and in love with Dean.

---

Love the shows. Support the shows. Support the creatives who were trying to make things better from within the system.

The megacorporation does not love you.

Stop bootlicking for the megacorporation.

[sandwichsugarbong]

While there isn't a single definitive "first record" of a transgender person, various historical accounts and cultural practices provide insight into the existence of transgender individuals throughout history.

One notable example is Elagabalus, who reigned as Roman emperor from 218 to 222 AD. Elagabalus was known for defying traditional gender roles and norms, reportedly expressing a desire to be referred to and treated as a woman. Historical accounts describe Elagabalus dressing in women's clothing, wearing makeup, and even marrying men.

Beyond Elagabalus, various cultures throughout history have recognized and accepted individuals who do not conform to traditional gender roles or binary notions of gender. For example, many Indigenous cultures around the world have long recognized the existence of Two-Spirit people, who embody both masculine and feminine qualities and often hold special spiritual or societal roles within their communities.

One notable figure from around the Nazi era who is sometimes discussed in the context of transgender history is Lili Elbe. Lili Elbe was a Danish transgender woman who was one of the earliest recipients of sex reassignment surgery. Born as Einar Magnus Andreas Wegener, she underwent a series of gender-affirming surgeries in the early 1930s under the care of pioneering sexologist Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld in Berlin, Germany.

Another notable figure who has been identified as a transgender man from around the Nazi era is Karl M. Baer. Born in Germany in 1885, Baer is believed to have undergone a hysterectomy and legally changed his name to Karl in the 1920s. Baer was a writer and editor who contributed to various publications.

Some reputable sources for transgender history include:"Transgender History" by Susan Stryker"Transgender Warriors: Making History from Joan of Arc to Dennis Rodman" by Leslie FeinbergJSTOR and Google Scholar for academic articles on transgender historyWebsites of LGBTQ+ history organizations and archives, such as the GLBT Historical Society and the Transgender Archives at the University of Victoria.

These resources can provide a more comprehensive understanding of the historical record of transgender individuals and the complexities of gender identity throughout history.

Being transgender is nothing new. Trans people have always existed and will continue to do so. Die mad about it.

[myz-wykkyd]

A halfbody I did featuring my personal oc, Lucille Sinclair. This piece is far from perfect in my eyes, but for the longest time, when it comes to my human art, my perfectionism has called me to struggle with making any sort of personal art of my ocs outside of references. I've been trying to break out of that mindset. So even if it isn't perfect- I'm happy I've made it<3

I also did a timelapse for this piece that I'm really excited to share.

More info about Lucy under the cut!

Lucille inhabits an original world/story of my own creation- a dark gunpowder fantasy with gothic Victorian (and other historical) influences loosely based off of Bloodborne, Elden Ring, ect. The setting is a large, port city called "Grimmstone" (Which has been rattling around in my head since I was 15). Lucy is a brilliant Doctor (gifted both academically and magically) from a noble family whose well regarded amongst the citizens because of her apparent altruism- often providing medical aide to those in need and expecting nothing in return. A reputation that strengthened when a mysterious and deadly plague began to spread throughout Grimmstone's lower quarters and Lucille was one of the only doctors who were willing to aid the afflicted.

However, unbeknownst to all, Lucille is actually a witch whose been studying and actively practicing black magic- Necromancy being her chief interest. and one of the reasons she was so keen to provide assistance was to acquire new test subjects to continue said studies.

You can read a bit more about her on her Toyhouse, if anyone is interested!

[victorckk]

I have FINALLY finished all of Blythe’s information!! I said a while back that I would post it, and here I am finally delivering.

Most of these are edited Canva templates, so some of it might look or be a little wonky. I also added his reference sheet.

His backstory is long, so you’ll find that under the cut.

Blythe’s backstory mentions abuse and religion used as manipulation by family members. While I did not go into specific details, please still read with caution. You can also skip the first three sections of his backstory if those topics make you uncomfortable.

1.

Blythe was born to Samara and Cornelius Jinx. Cornelius was from a family of strictly witches, while Samara was from a family full of diverse hybrids. Cornelius was left to raise Blythe by himself, due to ‘unknown’ complications with Samara. It wasn't until Blythe was a toddler that Cornelius had finally started to show his true colors. With the Jinx family being strictly witches for so long, Blythe was considered odd, and a burden to Cornelius' career as a jewelmaker by the rest of the family, and even by Cornelius himself.

2.

Cornelius would say and do unspeakable things, all while blaming Blythe for ruining his reputation within the Jinx family. However, once Blythe was old enough, he started being forced to join the family’s meetings. These meetings were to worship the family’s Archivist predecessor, and Cornelius used these meetings to rid himself of the mistake of ruining the family’s lineage. Blythe’s presence was eventually implemented into these meetings. He had to recite the family’s various historical texts, pass a few trials, and even become branded with the family’s star symbol. He was taught to only believe in the Archivists, the stars, and the newfound preacher, Belos. The Jinx family believed that instead of Belos communicating with the Titan, he was actually communicating with the Archivists, and using the Titan as a cover up.

3.

What Blythe didn’t know, is that his family was preparing him as a sacrifice for their predecessor. He was unaware of their plans until his aunt, Shannon, stepped in and took him in. Blythe didn’t know much about Shannon, other than she was disowned by the family for refusing to accept the way they presented themselves to the Boiling Isles. She was sweet and different from the rest of the family, but Blythe still had a difficult time trusting her, which was entirely understandable. Shannon was patient with Blythe, and knew he still needed time to adjust to everything. She even taught him how to write his own name, something he had never done before.

With Shannon’s help, Blythe eventually became an author, mainly to help him cope with the experiences he had. A few of his novels became quite popular, and he even grew a small fan base. He would soon notice the Boiling Isles was changing drastically years later, though. Witches and demons were forced to join Covens. However, there was one Coven which caught Blythe’s attention.

4.

The Emperor's Coven was claimed to be one for only the strongest, and Blythe decided to sign up to duel with another participant. Everyone was aware of his family’s lack of magic, but Blythe wasn’t going to let that stop him. What Blythe didn't know, is that the Emperor himself attended to choose the participants who he deemed worthy enough. Nonetheless, Blythe had come prepared. When it was Blythe's turn to engage in a duel, he took his opponent by surprise.

Blythe used his physical strength and agility to take the opponent down. Once Blythe's duel was finished, the Emperor stood from where he was sitting. He requested to duel with Blythe himself as a test, as Blythe had not used magic. He did put up a bit of fight, but Blythe was eventually defeated due to exhaustion. Emperor Belos was still quite impressed with how strong and efficient Blythe was, and offered him a role in his Coven as a scout, to which Blythe accepted. Blythe was given the status of the Emperor's personal guard years later due to his physical strength, and was given an Emperor Coven staff to make up for the lack of magic. He spent most of his time following Emperor Belos around, making sure no harm came to the monarch. Aside from this, Blythe was also assigned as a sailor during oversea missions to gather the parts Emperor Belos needed for his plans.

SEASON 1

Blythe refuses to bring attention to himself when it comes to the Emperor’s matters, refusing to accept a royal title for personal reasons. However, that doesn’t stop the Golden Guard, Blythe’s fan base, and even the rest of the Boiling Isles from using the Emperor title on him.

Blythe occasionally has to deal with Luz -or the entire Hexside gang- following him around Bonesborough and asking questions about the Emperor.

Blythe keeps his friendship with Eda a secret, as he is very aware of the Emperor’s tantrums. During his time off he’ll visit Eda for a game of cards, or to tell her about how his novels (or family) are coming along.

After Luz makes herself known across the Boiling Isles due to various incidents, Blythe becomes quite curious about her predicament. He introduces himself to her during a book fair event at Hexside, to which she notices his Emperor Coven insignia and she later on finds a portrait of Blythe and the Emperor in the Bonesborough Library, which sparks her curiosity.

He then has to deal with her following him around to make sure he isn’t pulling any schemes; shocked to find out that he genuinely is not.

SEASON 2

Blythe starts promoting a new novel, which has led to a bunch of witches and demons putting up posters and other promotional material. Some posters and flyers include Emperor Belos on them. Luz is still confused about why the two are usually seen together on promotional material, and eventually remembers the portrait she saw in the Library.

Luz asks Hunter -who has joined the Hexside group by then- where she could possibly find Blythe to ask him some questions, to which Hunter decides to go with her after revealing some places that they might find him in. The duo finds Blythe at the library that had just been closed, and they sneak in.

However, Blythe is very aware of the two sneaking around and he sends his palisman -Hesper- to find them. When Hesper does, she brings them back to Blythe, who gives them a huge warning about breaking in and meddling in things that they shouldn’t be.

At this point, Luz confronts Blythe about what he’s doing in the library, to which Blythe tells her about how he is currently the manager. They all converse for a while about the Emperor’s Coven’s plans, until Hunter unintentionally reveals certain details about Blythe and Emperor Belos, much to Luz’s surprise.

During the Day Of Unity, Blythe is unaffected as he was never given a sigil due to his lack of magic, along with the reasoning that the Emperor was fond of him. Blythe was aware of the consequences, but he doesn’t show any remorse or regret once the event starts to happen. All that matters to him is he and the Emperor making it to the Human Realm together.

However, it doesn’t go as planned, as Blythe is left behind in the Demon Realm.

SEASON 3

Blythe is in the Archives, playing the role of a father to the Collector. He doesn’t mind, as he always treated Collector with kindness and respect. He plays his role fairly well, so much to the point that the Collector even appointed Blythe to play the role of King’s father. Blythe spends his time telling them stories and playing games with them, doing anything he can to keep the Collector happy.

Once Philip returned back to the Boiling Isles, Blythe was encased near the Titan’s heart; Philip’s last resort to keep Blythe safe and to potentially use him as a vessel once he finished destroying the Demon Realm.

Blythe was unaware of the situation that was happening outside of the encasing, until he was unintentionally freed, and unintentionally stabbed through the heart by Hunter after stepping in to protect Belos from the attack. After protecting Hunter from Belos’ wrath for so long, Blythe had become something like a father figure to him, and it absolutely destroys Hunter from the inside out.

Once Belos is finally defeated, Hunter ends up bonding with Hesper and she becomes a messenger for the Boiling Isles’ future exchange program. Despite Blythe being viewed as a monster by the rest of the survivors of the whole ordeal, Hunter has dedicated a small area in the forest to him.