#unless it’s someone in a wig and makeup

[femboy-central]

what if I said I thought Velvette’s body parts connected like the dunmeshi living armour…….

[scoutswritingcorner]

Red String of What?

Angel Dust x Male Reader

PART TWO

TW: Flirting

You find yourself helping out Angel Dust in the early morning and he's quite the flirt.

It’s been a couple days since you’ve been at the hotel, you’ve been mostly working on the elevator ever since. You also found it was stuck at the top floor which meant constantly running up and down flights of stairs. It was a workout to say the least and it didn’t help that Alastor appeared in some places to stop you or follow you up the stairs making fun of how you were practically about to drop on the ground. 

It was a couple hours later when you decided to call it quits for the day and hang around your room to allow your legs to rest before you got up to take a shower. Laying down on your bed you let out a loud sigh, eyes slowly closing as you got comfortable on your bed. It’s been a crazy day from Charlie calling you down to the foyer to fix the door someone crazy enough to break it down to helping Nifty reach the higher places so she could clean to finally being able to get the elevator to move a couple inches before something else blew and sent the elevator crashing down to the first floor. You had a long talk with Charlie and Vaggie after that, Charlie more forgiving than her girlfriend who chewed your ear off.

You don’t know how long you were out for but when you did wake up, the phone above your dresser rang loudly. You shot up out of bed and shook your head, clearing your throat before picking up the phone. “Hello?” You asked your voice wavering causing you to curse silently to yourself,

“Ah! There you are Dear Boy~” Alastor cooed from the other side of the phone. The same wall phone he had Charlie be placed inside your room cause he would rather be caught dead (again..) than touch modern technology. You let out a soft groan and grabbed a half empty water bottle you had on your dresser. “How can I help you, Sir?” You asked slightly grimacing at the fact you were basically on call anytime of the day unless you told Charlie you needed time for yourself.

“You know Angel Dust, yes? Well his shower busted and needs it repaired.” You looked around to find your tool belt haphazardly thrown on your desk as well as your favorite jacket laid. “Okay..I’ll be over in a moment, Sir.” You replied getting a happy hum from him before the phone call ended. You placed the phone up and turned to grab your belt. You never talked to this..Angel Dust. You’ve heard and seen his face plastered all throughout hell of course but never met him. He was on the road to redemption? Well, if he is, it's not your place to judge him. 

Walking to his room was easy enough, the man lived on the floor above yours. You let out a yawn as you knocked on his bedroom door, man you needed more sleep. The door opened to reveal the tall spider half naked (thank Lucifer he was wearing shorts) with a scowl on his face before it disappeared as he peered down at you.

“You called for maintenance?” You asked, feeling nude under his gaze. It was silent for a moment before you cleared your throat, “Mr.Dust?” You called out once more as he shook his head and chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting a cutie like yourself to be the maintenance man.” He purred out as he reached his hand out, “Call me Angel, Cutie.” 

“Yes..Well Angel..I’m (Y/n), the maintenance man. I’m on call 24/7, now Alastor told me your shower was busted.” You said, clearing your throat and shaking his outstretched hand as he smirked. “I’m just gonna stick with calling ya’ Cutie if that’s fine with you~” He let you in his room picking up the small pig in the process as you followed after him. “Was there a noise or did it just start messing up?” You asked entering his bathroom seeing different makeup palettes to styled wigs. “No, I turned the water on to take a shower after a long day and something sounded like it exploded.” He explained as he pet the little pig in his arms, you nodded along and took off your shoes to get into the tub itself. Didn’t want to drag anything into the clean looking tub.

He sat down on a stool watching you work, noticing how the red string on his finger seemed shorter than before, how bright the string itself was. He didn’t want to bring it up, if you didn’t notice it. He also didn’t want to get his hopes up if this string was wrong.

“So..Angel..Do you do drag?” You asked cautiously as you worked on the shower, almost immediately noticing how the pipe had burst. “I do. You got a problem with that?” He asked almost defensively, causing you to flinch from his tone and hit your head on the wall.

“Ow fuck-” You hissed out rubbing your head, “No no, I had a few friends when I was alive who were drag queens. Went to a few shows too, they were super fun.” You chuckled glancing over at him watching a small smile grace his lips before he looked away glancing at his phone. The whole time it was mostly silent except for a few flirtatious remarks that were sent your way. You didn’t mind the silence as you worked at least he wasn’t staring at you or if he was you didn’t notice. As you focused more and more on the shower, you completely forgot about him and tuned out how he was talking to somebody on the phone. It wasn’t your place to eavesdrop on his conversation well until as you were putting your tools away testing the shower itself, a loud whine echoed and then water rushed out to hit you square in the face causing him to let out a string of curses as he stood up, dropping his phone onto the counter.

Before he could even take a step towards you, you had turned off the water and covered the now unfixable pipe. “Wow- didn’t expect you to get this wet from being near me, Cutie~” He teased, grabbing a towel for you as a groan left your lips at the flirting and the fact your clothes were absolutely drenched. Nifty would have your head if she found out.

You chuckle and grab the towel from him, slowly removing your hand from the busted pipe. “I uhh..I won’t be able to fully fix it tonight, I’m afraid.” You said you know now you would have to go out and get the right pipe for this and get Charlie to cut off the water to his room for a bit. “Damn,” He grumbled, “Was really looking forward to taking a hot shower.” He said rubbing his face in a grumpily manner causing your eyes to snap towards the bright red string on his finger. That’s weird..you never saw someone else’s string before and it was off putting to say the least. “You can use my shower if you’d like.” You blurted out before stopping hearing a loud laugh come from his phone, “Damn, Angel~ Getting in this man’s shower already?~” A voice called out causing him to smirk at you.

“N-Not in a sexual manner! Just as an apology kinda deal..I live on the floor below you and I feel bad that I can't fix your shower tonight!” You exclaimed slowly getting out of the tub trying to dry your clothes off. “Well of course I’ll take up your offer, Cutie.~” He purred out, “Wouldn’t be the first time I’m getting in a stranger’s shower.” You glanced at him before nodding, “Yeah..I’ll wait for you outside..” You rushed out walking back out into the hotel’s hallway wrapping the towel around yourself. Pulling out your phone you make a note for you to go get the part, glancing at the time you choked on air, 3 in the fucking morning? You glanced back seeing Angel holding clean clothes, a towel, and his shower necessities. “You alright, Cutie?~” He carefully placed a hand on your lower back making you jump before rushing to the stairwell, “Yup!” You hoped he didn't see how flustered you had become from his touch.

A few moments later Angel is happily singing along to the music playing from his phone as he uses your shower. You take the time to switch into your dry pajamas before making sure to set your alarm so you could get up later that morning. Laying down on your bed you tried to stay awake for Angel to make sure he was feeling better but the more you listened to him the more you were dozing off to his voice.

After 20 minutes Angel exited your bathroom, humming as he wrapped his towel around his neck fixing his shirt with one hand and holding his dirty clothes with the other. “Hey Cutie,” He called out but stopped seeing you curled up softly snoring as you slept. A small smile graced his lips before he walked over to tuck you into bed. He left soon after but not before leaving you a little note on your bedside table.

‘Thank you for letting me use your shower, Handsome. I hope to get to see your face more~

-XXXX Angel Dust.  P.S. Here’s my number~’

[half-oz-eddie]

I am so utterly obsessed with rag-tag team heist movies so I made a Stranger things heist crew AU roster

Steve "Moneybags" Harrington's heist crew used to be a team of 2, the other being Dustin "Phisher" Henderson. Steve was the only person Claudia Henderson trusted to look after her son, and as Dustin grew older, the two of them became close friends.

Steve watched Dustin hack into all sorts of databases, uncover the truth behind town conspiracies and even hack a few of his bullies.

When Mr. harrington cut Steve off financially, he wanted to get back at him, and pull a "prank" with Dustin to empty out an offshore bank account that his father kept hidden from Mrs. Harrington.

The plan went smoothly. A little too smoothly, maybe. Or perhaps Dustin was a natural at this, that's what Steve believed. And since it was that easy for Steve and Dustin to get their hands on $1.5 Million, they decided to take their pranks to another level.

Steve proposed for their next prank, they should clean out one of Mr. Harrington's friends' cryptocurrency. He explains to Dustin how the asshole keeps his assets on a physical drive in his house that they could wipe while he was away on vacation.

Dustin agrees and suggests they bring Eddie "Safecrack" Munson into the fold. He tells Steve Eddie's trustworthy and knows how to pick locks and hotwire cars, y'know, just in case.

Eddie, of course, is thrilled by the idea. Not only does he love a little mischief, he'd love to get his hands on some money and a fast car. "However," Eddie told them "we'll need someone to drive one of those fancy cars outta there. We may be good drivers...but we're not that good. But not to worry, I know a guy."

The guy in question? Billy "Wheels" Hargrove. A California bad boy who knows plenty about fast cars and fast cash, so he's in without question. He also doesn't mind hassling pretty boy Harrington. (there's so much sexual tension between them. Billy's the one who gave Steve his code name. He said 'the hair' didn't quite fit.). But Billy's not doing anything unless his stepsister, Max "Sticky Fingers" Mayfield can come in and swipe whatever isn't nailed down for a cut.

They used to have a complicated relationship, but they bonded by shoplifting whatever Billy's dad wouldn't let them have. Max was a skilled thief. She could get out of any store with anything that she wanted, and Billy would drive away like a bat outta hell. She lifted consoles, games and even a little lipgloss, for Billy.

So their first heist goes without a hitch, and after wiping millions in crypto off some hard drives, swiping some expensive paintings and a 2020 Mclaren, they can't resist the urge to plan bigger heists together.

Billy suggests they call up his coworker Heather "Chameleon" Holloway. "She's got more wigs than personalities" He joked. When they brought Heather onto the team, she showed them her massive walk in closet, full of clothes, wigs, shoes and more. Not to mention, she could use her charm and distract anyone. Heather was bored at home, spending time perfecting her hair and makeup skills. She could change her appearance to look like a completely different person. It was all the fun she had. Her mom was always wine drunk, and her dad was a jerk who ignored her because he wanted a son, so she was happy to be part of a team that didn't treat her like she was invisible.

Under normal circumstances, they'd never spend time together, but now? They're an inseperable friend group.

They've made some friends (and enemies) in their line of work, but everyday is an adventure.

They recently took on a half a billion dollar heist job for a mysterious man by the name of Henry Creel, unaware of the dangers that lie ahead...

Tagging some people: @shieldofiron @adelacreations @dragonflylady77 @harringroveera @bigdumbbambieyes

Because I love your writing and I'd love to hear how y'all would include some other characters/ships in the mix. I just love heist AUs so much~

[jackdelroys]

errmm.... Doctor Fearless x Reader

You accidentally stumble upon his spooky castle when hiking and find the most pathetic and lonely vampire wearing a party city wig living there... what do you do....

sighs. you give him crazy insane good head. what else. anyways here's 1.6k words of just that

warnings; nsfw!!! holy shit. sorry.

YOU weren't sure how you got here, but you managed to. Actually, it was almost amazing how fucking lost you'd gotten, impressive even. How you'd managed to end up so far off-track from your supposedly soul searching hike was a mystery to you, and a dead phone and therefore no gps could attest to that. But hey, maybe the looming, creepy castle in the middle of the woods would offer help, you hoped, or at the least an outlet to plug your charger into. 

You stood at the foot of the staircase leading to the mansion. It towered above you, but maybe it was just the rain making it seem like such a climb. You took the first step cautiously as to not slip, and after successfully making it approximately three stairs in, you found yourself facefirst with the concrete, and minus one healthy ankle. 

You yelped in pain, regretting now not prowling the premises for an outdoor outlet first.

You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up from the ground and hobbling, now drenched, to the front door. You stare at it for quite some time before your clothes become uncomfortably sticky from the rain, heavy and cold and you came to the conclusion that this whole situation sucked. You still hadn’t rang the doorbell. 

I mean, how would you even explain yourself? 

‘Hi, I was creeping around your incredibly off-putting home to hope to siphon some electricity to charge my phone. Unfortunately, it seems like I broke my ankle instead! May I spend the night?’

You settle for knocking. 

The door creaks open soon enough, beyond which you cannot make out much besides a looming darkness. At least it's out of the rain.

You take a cautious step in, and when you do, the distant fireplace lights, casting a low glow over the weathered hall. You follow the rug through the foyer until you're met with a grand staircase, at which point you're finally met with your gracious host, high above you. 

He's awkwardly posed there, one hand on the bannister, the other holding his draped cloak close to himself. But that wasn't the oddest part, no, it was the strange way his matted-down hair was kept slick to his head, bowl-cut and all, terrible uneven bangs included. You dared not laugh at the fangs that hung over his bottom lip, or gothic eye-makeup worthy of a serious MySpace profile picture. He looked like an overgrown fusion of Bunnicula and the Berries and Cream Lad, and it nearly had you in fits until his booming, clichéd voice reverberated off the walls.

“Welcome to my humble abode, dear stranger. Come freely, go safely, etcetera, etcetera. And who might it be that I am so privileged to host this dark, dreary evening?”

You avoid stating your name plainly, eyes shifting around at the strange demeanor. Perhaps this was some kind of weird sex roleplay you stumbled upon. Yeah, that's probably the case, right?

“Well, they call me…Doctor Fearless!”

“...Huh?” your even more puzzled expression almost caught him off guard. He seemed to falter for a moment, but then he was back, cape pulled close around him and head tilted back to look down at you.

“Ah, but what brings such a pretty young thing to my doorstep in the middle of the night, unless it is a death wish?”

Your brow furrows, squinting confused (or was it cautiously?) at him. Your reply was slow, and deliberate.

“I twisted my ankle trying to climb the steps to ask for directions…”

He stares at you, disappointed; Clearly, he wanted you to play along. Oops.

“So, you wish for safe lodging while the storm passes and your injuries heal? Perhaps that can be arranged…for a price,” the thunder conveniently struck at that moment, for dramatic effect you assume. At least someone out there was on his side, because looking over the awful, choppy bangs he wore, it certainly wasn't mother nature and her ugly stick. 

A price? Your heart sunk. Of course there was a ‘yes, but…’ what else could you expect? And what the hell was his price anyways? Though, the way his grin grew, enough for those goofy fucking fangs to poke out and the way he pushed his cloak beyond his shoulders as he descended the stairs to meet you gave you a decent idea.

Whatever. You were way too fucking tired, and in way too much pain for this. And he was far too pathetic and weirdly hot to not fuck, really.

You're on your knees before you know it, grasping at his belt and tearing the buckle free. He sucks in a breath above you, still looking down on you, expression falling dark. Like he's observing some kind of animal...Hot?

You're testing the waters at first, adjusting your kneel so that your ankle isn't fucking screaming at you to please god stop, oh christ, and your palm is finding its center at the crotch of his pants, gently at first but then, at the faintest feeling of twitch you press down harder, grinding your hand against him as he lets out a grunt that sends shivers through the rest of you. 

He's grabbing your wrist soon enough, and shoving down his pants to free his cock -- which to no surprise has already hardened, tip glistening from where his precum’s been smeared across the head in the rush to push aside his underwear. 

He's panting before you even begin, and so when you take your time in spreading your tongue across the underside of his shaft, he's nearly weeping. Agonizingly slowly, you give the same attention to the length of him, more than once until the almost sweet taste of him is dripping onto your lips and he's tossed his head back, one hand easing itself into your hair. 

How was this so exciting?

His mouth falls open, just for a moment, then he's biting down onto his cheek hard with a strangled moan as your own fist around his dick spreads evenly your spit until you're ready to take him now fully into your mouth. You start with the tip, tongue running over his slit with a low groan, for someone so fucking strange, he tasted oddly good, almost as if it was on purpose.

You carefully move down, taking as much of him as you can, which is to say all of him, and steadying yourself before you choke. He curses under his breath, and you almost gag there from laughing, but you compose yourself when he scowls, and jerks the back of your head, shoving your face into his hips where he holds you before pulling back.

You got the idea. 

You're bobbing your head at a leisurely pace for your own comfort, but as you pull far enough back, you're sure to swipe your tongue across the sensitive spot on that underside vein each time. You're rewarded with a grunt and the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth which, all in all, was a fairly decent exchange. Though, after a few minutes, it seems to catch up to him, especially when he steals glances at the way you're rubbing your own thighs together, fingernails digging into the back of his legs and happily working his cock with your mouth. He takes your face and forces you down, faster, harder. 

It's then he's realized he hasn't a clue what to call you, which makes for quite the awkward interjection, hands on either side of your head pulling you back just enough to meet your eyes, and you somehow manage to spit a rather garbled, muffled version of your name. He gets the gist, and quickly shoves you back down onto his dick, narrowly avoiding the worst of your gag reflex as he pants a butchered version of your name, at least. 

Your throat’s quickly getting sore, and with a few whines if your own, and some particularly sinful noises he's properly fucking your face -- having forgotten completely about that friendly, goofy demeanor clearly chasing his own end, punctuating each movement with some sort of expletive, and you're almost worried for a minute he's one thrust from a “gee whillickers!” until he pulls at your hair again, harshly now. Your face is buried into the cold, bony frame of his abdomen as deep as he can go as he finally cums, warm and thick down your throat without hesitation. The moan he lets out is absolutely fucking delicious (much like everything else, if not a bit salty), and he breathes your name alongside a string of curses.

“Fuck,” he gasps one last time, finally releasing your hair. He sounds…normal. No faux accent. Just human.

You look up at the voice, hand now frozen from wiping the corner of your mouth.

“...What the fuck?”

“You know, I was just going to ask to split takeout if you wanted dinner, but shit.”

His chest was still heaving, and you only now noticed that at some point, the plastic fangs he'd been wearing were taken off, and the wig had fallen to the wayside, enough for him to rip the thing off and toss it to the floor adjacent to you both. Save for the awful makeup, he looked…strangely normal. And in a way, a little less attractive like this. But still very attractive, you correct yourself. 

“...Fearless?”

“Dwight,” he breathes, “It's fucking -- Dwight. Jesus.”

You nod, knees sore as you stand again, with his help. He's rushing to shove himself back into his pants, nearly tripping on the belt still dangling to the floor as he motions behind himself for you to follow; He's leading you further into the castle now, presumably towards your room for the night, giving you support for your still aching ankle.

Smallest price you've had to pay for an overnight stay, honestly.

[befemininenow]

It’s more than just the red wig, makeup, and clothes. You act, talk, and move so feminine now, people think you’re a gay guy when you’re in boy mode, much your unawareness. You may not feel dysphoria, but you definitely feel more uncomfortable being called those unflattering names than you do presenting as a male. Perhaps it’s time you start transitioning beyond the wardrobe, with the proper help of course.

-Note: Trans women/girls and sissies are not the same! I understand everyone has their own kink and guilty pleasure. But unless noted by their own will, do not call a trans girl/woman a sissy! Please respect their identity!

-Women like Katherine McNamara are examples of how modern femininity can be presented as something beautiful and hypnotic. In this case, you probably saw captioned pics with this image and how persuading they were in picturing yourself as a woman. But as someone who is likely trans, it’s more than taking hormones and surgeries, or experiencing gender dysphoria. It’s connecting with your inner gender and being more comfortable presenting as yourself than it is being your assigned gender. Trans people are valid, and you should feel that way too if you’re trans as well.

[rivertigo]

I get torksmith and I understand the lust towards mike nesmith but to me he is the least sexually appealing person I’ve ever laid eyes on. unless he’s in makeup and a bad wig. then it’s all hubba hubba! davy jones, well I’ve never felt so attracted to a man (I have plenty of times). I see micky dolenz and go someone needs to have sex with that man expeditiously! I would be honored to attend a peter tork orgy and have a go at the man of the house. just to keep you all updated

[showalittlespine]

LOCATION —  Vixen. DATE — April 15th, 2024. STARTER — closed for @ceceliaahathaway

Well, no point in being a good thief if not to use the spoils. The redhead's words return to her, along with that high, disbelieving laugh. 'They wouldn't talk to you anyway, did you see the people in that club?? They're made of money!'

So Nicoleta has made herself up of money, too. Scrolled dozens of articles on Cecelia Hathaway, saved enough pictures on her latest phone to inform her shopping spree. And by the time she's done, she's bought half a wardrobe, some makeup, an expensive wig, and a book to brush up on her French. If Aviv returns before she can put it all to use, Nico figures she'll just bash his brains out with the book instead.

And then she waits.

It's the hardest part, because it involves staying still. She's got eyes on the Club before it opens, but Cecelia isn't among the first to come in, which might've been unexpected but vraiment chouette of her. The hours crawl by, and Nico begins to think she won't show at all, and that she'll have to do this all again tomorrow. The desire to bash Aviv's head in becomes all the more appealing a fantasy as she gives up and decides to enter the club for a drink. Maybe a chance to get information out of someone else. Another bartender, perhaps, or one of the patrons.

She orders a martini, which isn't her drink of choice but the only one on the menu she remembers how to order in French. It's been years since she's had any practice, and since then she's gotten rusty. But she's always had a knack for picking up languages, learning the essentials quicker than most. Unless it's English. Fuck English.

And it's right there, with her martini glass freshly in hand as she turns to survey the crowd — that she spots her. Cecelia Hathaway, sweeping through the Club with all the airs of an eagle in flight. Slipping off her stool, Nicoleta begins to move.

She catches up, navigating the crowd and cutting into the woman's path from a diagonal, twisting abruptly to stage an accidental run-in. The alcohol in her glass sloshes over the rim and she startles back, feigning surprise. "Excusez, madame."

Her native tongue bleeds heavily into her French, but all she needs is the woman's attention. "Cecelia! Quel belle surprise! And oh, look... We have same haircut now."

[tiredkershyff]

Birds of Feather

DC x TWST

Summary: Tim Drake is a trouble magnet, everyone knew it. Well, it was time for new problems!

on ao3 Chapter 1: I've been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin Chapter characters: Tim Drake, Grim the Greatest, Dire Crowley Warnings in tags

‎

Ah… My dear beloved,

my noble and beautiful flower of evil,

You are the fairest in the land.

──Mirror, mirror on the wall,

who is the most…

‎

Tim was a bit dizzy, thought tumbling one over each other, trying to make him come to senses. The words, those words were ringing in his head, and they were concerning. What in Snow White was this? Part of him wanted to point at the particular creep known as Ra’s Al Ghul. He would definitely call Tim ‘dearly beloved’. And ‘the flower of evil’? Another speech about ‘come to the dark side, we have cookies’? No, thank you. (God, he is really getting under my skin)

But put away such thoughts, he needed to deal with the situation on hand: WHERE THE HELL IS HE!?

Okay, he was incased in some type of box, the size is just enough to let him a little room to wiggle. It was not a wooden crate for sure, that was obvious from touching it. It was a solid hard material that definitely held some weight in it, smooth and cold to touch, so it was probably some polished stone. It was hard to say what exactly it was, Tim couldn’t see anything, but it might be marble or something similar. 

Tim pushed walls, to see which would move, and only the first one responded to his action. For now Tim decided to let it stay closed. He needed to assess the current situation, his state and equipment. It would be stupid to rush right away without giving it at least some thought, it looked like he might have some time for it. 

Although he better not to spend too much time. The front lid was heavy enough and didn’t allow any airflow if it was untouched, so the situation with oxygen was a bit difficult. Yeah, Tim could open the lid a little bit, but who knew if it would catch someone’s attention or not. So no sneaking some oxygen inside. So he had some time to think, but the time was not unlimited. 

The first question was, why was he here? The second one was where was he? And the third one when was he? His mind was so confused, so who knew for how long he was held there, plus the time-space shenanigans happen so it was always worth considering it.

So, the first one. Why? Tim could remember clatter of hooves, horses neighing, wheels creaking, rolling on the stony road. Those memories were blurry, but he was able to piece it all together. So, it was most likely some type of carriage. That was a bit of an archaic way to kidnap someone. They also keep him in a fancy box, judging by the material. Could it be the Court of Owls? Those assholes are pretentious enough to do this. But still, it was a questionable choice. 

Tim examined himself, to find more clues. The wig on his head, the heels on his feet, it already was a give-away that he was in a Caroline Hill disguise (unless they for some reason decided to dress him up like a girl). The texture of the wig was familiar enough to think it was Caroline’s, he spent a hefty amount of money on the new one, so it would look completely genuine and wouldn’t be itchy. Light touches on his face also confirmed the makeup on his face. Small prosthetic chest and hip padding were the final confirmation of his theory. (I’m glad I don’t have those big boobs like first time, those are much better)

That led him to some thoughts about other reasons on why he could be kidnapped. It was less likely that it was because he was TDW or RR. Were they targeting Caroline in particular? Or someone in the medical industry? Or were they targeting women in particular? Tim doubted someone would uncover his disguise and target him because of it. 

He also was wearing some type of long attire made out of some smooth material, cold to touch, reminding him of silk. That… led to interesting thoughts. It felt like those were some ceremony robes and he was going to be sacrificed by some cult. Probably just his paranoid mind whispering those ideas. But Tim hated how probable this scenario was. (Or maybe it’s some weird-ass ritual from Ra’s)

He didn’t have his utility belt, not like Caroline had it. He did, however, have some cards in his sleeves. Or, well, birdarang and batarangs. It was hard to actually pull them to properly touch them to understand which properties they had. He didn’t have space to put them back. So he slid just one down in his hand. It was an electric one. (Okay, that’s a good one. I wish I had my disks though)

By the look of it, he would need to adapt on the spot and use his surroundings after all. 

Now, to the where question. The probable kidnappers were: Ra’s, Owls, some weird cultists and a percentage for other people (who wanted to have fun, who targeted a specific group, who chose on random, to either kill, torture, sell and a lot of other fun activities). That was… A lot of variables to consider. 

Whatever it was, he would need to decide to be RR or CH in this situation. 

At least the assessment showed that he didn’t have a concussion or even bruises, which meant they were gentle with him. It excluded some minor options. Or, they beat him to near death and the small amount of Lazarus Waters he had kicked in. Though, it would heal only the immediate fatal injury if he was on a ley-line. And then it would have a cool-down, like it was some fucking game. So, they probably were gentle. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion outside. Someone was trying to open the lid, and obviously struggled with it. So it wasn’t someone who kidnapped him, they would have a way to open it without any trouble. So it was someone unfamiliar with it, and, presumably, weak too. Did they want to help? Or cause harm? In any case, Tim gripped his birdarang a tid bit stronger.

He heard a high-pitched voice talking about people coming soon. So they were a third party. And they were talking about getting a uniform. So they presumably needed Tim’s attire. An interesting choice of voice for this cloak. 

Tim decided to open the lid. Judging by the information the person outside said, people were coming soon, and those are definitely his abductors they were talking about. Not good. But it meant right now was the prime chance for an escape, there was only one person outside currently. 

And as he did that, the person said that they were going to use their secret move. So when Tim peeked outside, he was met with a circle of blue fire. He hoped it was a trick that made it blue, because actual blue fire was the hottest. 

As Tim was readying to use his weapon, he saw who was causing all this ruckus. A cat. A goddamn flying cat. (Was it like Teekl?)

“Kyaaa! Why are you up?! And what a girl is doing here?!” It screeched, it looked scared. 

So this gives him some new information. Firstly, apparently he wasn’t supposed to be awake. If he was drugged, that meant his training helped. He wasn’t sure what made him wake up earlier if the cause was different. The second piece of information was the surprise of seeing a girl. So he was less likely to be kidnapped for appearing female. This place was not meant to be for women. If the cat needed a uniform, maybe to blend in or for other personal use in a non-female place, he could be male-presenting. 

While doing the mental gymnastics, Tim gave a quick look-over of this place, his theories about it being a cult resurfaced again. The room was dark, not fully lit. The first thing that he noticed were floating coffins with some ornaments and glowing round stones in the middle. The windows had metal ornaments in the best Gotham traditions. And the chandelier was made out of a clutter of chains with glowing purple stones. But what made his breath hitch and his body freeze was the fountain with a green liquid. It was more goo-y and paler in color, but… The place had an incredible Gotham atmosphere and they used to have some pits with Lazarus Waters. Who knew what could’ve happened with them in the shit-hole that Gotham was with her hazardous water. On top of the fountain was a floating mirror.

So it was a cult. It didn’t look like League, they would use different aesthetics. The placement of coffins indicated it was not the Court, they would do it differently. But Gotham had enough cults on its own. 

At least he knows the where question. Not fully, but even this was helpful. 

The cat was not happy with Tim ignoring Grim the Greatest. (Grim? Like Grim Reaper? Maybe he needs the uniform in hopes of getting into this cult?)

The cat also made a cute attempt to attack him, but Tim easily dodged it, ducking and making a quick escape to one of the exits he noted earlier. The creature was not fast enough to catch up to him, so Tim managed to outran him and discovered himself in the library. He perched on top of one of the bookshelves, the dark cloak worked perfectly with concealing himself in shadows. Plus, this place was poorly lit. 

“Uuugh, you, puny human! I will find you and you’re gonna regret crossing the Great Grim!” the cat exclaimed, getting all worked out. (suure)

Tim was spinning the birdarang in his hand, looking over the library, noting the path through the bookshelves and possible exits. The creature was going to set the place ablaze and Tim started thinking about giving him a mild shock, but was interrupted by the sound of a whip, hitting Grim. (Is it hypocritical of me calling it too much? I was going to electrocute him… Yeah, it’s hypocritical. Still going to call it too much and shame this guy at least in my head)

“This is not a mere rope, but the Whip of Love!” the man exclaimed. A man that looked like someone who could pass as one of the Gotham crazies. If he had a PhD then he would definitely count as their Rogue. Really, most of them had PhDs. Bruce forbade them from becoming Doctors so they wouldn’t become part of the Rouge gallery. Jokes on him, Tim already worked with Catwoman when he was a kid, and now was wanted by InterPol. Although, B didn’t appreciate Tim dropping out of the high school and refusing to go back citing the no PhD rule. 

Also. (Did he just call it the Whip of Love?! What in the name of BDSM is happening right now?!) 

“And you!” the Crow man exclaimed, looking directly at Tim, which made him instantly wary. This immediately placed this bird into a dangerous category for noticing him so easily. “Ah, one of the new students…” he said in a calmer tone.

A student. A fucking student. (THIS IS SCHOOL?!) he screamed in his mind. With that the second thought followed: (He uses this BDSM whip at school???)

So the cat meant school uniform… It was an all-boys school? There were no such schools that looked like that in Gotham. Although the cult theory still worked, some of them worked like that. People wouldn’t immediately realize it’s a cult, and they either realize it when it’s too late or they get brainwashed. Well, he will need to investigate it from the inside. The second time he did that. But… This place had a lot of floating stuff, the cat was obviously magical. And there was a big chance the school either abducted or lured people with magic, and Tim didn’t have an ounce of that. Meaning he would have to pass it on to Zatanna and would help with it in some other way.  

“I finally found you. You shouldn’t have left the Gate on your own!” the Crow furry exclaimed. The Gate… Did he mean those coffins? Why Gate though? (Gates to Hell, Gates to Heaven… Some cults love religious themes. Huh, they could actually use religious guilt and promise to ‘cure’ those kids, while binding them to their use) 

Again, those were just wild theories that always ran through his mind. Most of them were just theories passing by, with a very low chance of being true. But he was also proved multiple times that even those low probable theories were true. Also, Bernard just amplified this urge to make crazy theories at every moment. 

He will roll with the student role right now to learn as much as he could, until the matter of him having no magic will present itself. Then he would see how the situation would unfold to decide how he would have to leave.

Meanwhile the crow man started talking about his familiar breaking rules, how it was so rebellious… Nope, he’s not rolling with this one. Nuh-uh. 

This cat would ruin everything with his attitude alone. And, as Tim predicted, Grim immediately protested. Crow ignored him.

“Now, come out,” the man asked him. (I’m bi. Ah, wait, that’s not what he meant)

Tim gracefully landed in front of the staff member, removing the hood to see the reaction on him looking female-presenting. 

“A girl? What? Or..?” The Crow was confused. 

The ‘or’ indicated on him thinking Tim was trans. But what way? Did they think Tim was a trans guy who either didn’t transition yet or decided to look like that for another reason? That would be progressive. Or did he think Tim was a trans girl, but because he was AMAB he was here? That would be… No. But what about intersexes? Crossdressers? Enbys? Ah, so many questions. “We will deal with it after the ceremony,” Crow shook his head. God. No, it was a 100% cult, Tim will stop thinking otherwise. He didn’t need to hurt his brain even further worrying with thoughts if it was or was not a cult. 

Although, it was in a way helpful. Who knows how they would react to him having no magic. Maybe he would cite him being a girl to dip? Part of him wanted to do a Valley Girl accent, but instead decided on a British accent, the strong one like Alfred had. He lived with that man for a few years, he even adopted a few words. Although, it wasn’t like Bruce had it. Half of his vocabulary was British words and he often slipped to that accent when he was tired or didn’t care much. Dick had it to some degree and so did Jason. Though, when tired Dick would slide into a Romani accent and Jason into the Crime Alley talk. Tim, however, would descend into a French accent in most of the cases. When he was a kid he would even use French words from time to time, the result of being raised bilingual (though, there were Korean words from time to time, but not enough to make him trilingual). It was most noticeable when he was way too dizzy, hadn’t slept for days or was under a lot of anesthesia or a lot of pain meds. Fun times. 

“I doubt I am a student here, there must be a mistake,” he started. “I don’t even remember how I got here,” he made a bait for an answer. This time the furry guy actually listened to him!

“There’s no mistake! You got here through the Gate, after all. Although, you are quite eager, aren’t you? Leaving the gate before the ceremony… Ah, the ceremony! It probably is well under the way. Let’s head to the Mirror Chamber!” The man was so full of joy. Disgusting. Tim already didn’t like the guy. 

They went to the ‘Mirror chamber’, probably that place with coffins, seeing how it had a floating mirror there. 

“This little buddy blew the lid off. And I don’t remember going through any ‘Gate’”, Tim huffed. 

“Your familiar is your responsibility,” Crow man said and Tim scoffed at it. “And any student who wishes to attend this Academy must go through the Gate’s door,” answered the furry. “Normally the students wake up only after the door is opened with a special key…” he continued. Tim decided to interrupt it. 

“Well, then why wasn't mine closed? There was no key-hole too,” Tim noted. 

“That’s weird,” the crow man frowned and said it mostly to himself.

Tim’s bird brain immediately went to playing a meme in his head. (That’s weird. That’s suspicious)

“Anyway!” energetically said the staff member. “The open ceremony is about to end. Let’s haste!” ushered the crow.

“I don’t understand where I am, or who you even are!” Tim said in a bit demanding tone. Not a loud one, more on a scolding side. Though, British itself could sound like that no matter what you say if you want to. 

"Oh my, are you still dazed? It appears that teleportation magic has left you disoriented," the bird dude, the bird fella, the guy in a mask said.

(Magic. He said the magic 'magic' word. And so I was teleported here, huh)

"Well, it's alright. It happens pretty often!" The staff member explained.

(NO IT'S NOT ALRIGHT YOU MORON)

"I shall explain everything to you. Ahh, my kindness is boundless!" The bird serenaded to himself. (Oh god, he is a broken reflection of those people on Galas, who donate money and praise themselves for it endlessly)

As they went to the courtyard, the bird man continued: “And I am Dire Crowley, the Headmage appointed by the chairman to take care of this place.” (Crowley? Could’ve figured this much. And Dire? Well, that’s certainly the way. He would fit in Gotham so well), "This is Night Raven College, the most prestigious academy of Twisted Wonderland for those who are blessed with a rare aptitude for magic," and whoo bay was it a big can of worms to open.

So he was right about magic, and about them abducting people with it. Because, yeah, magic was still rare, but they made a school for it. That was a front for a cult and didn't even try to hide it. Although, the atmosphere could be mysterious on purpose, to appease kids. Plus, none of the magic users he knew mentioned something like that. And they would, seeing how it looked so Gotham, just to tease about their gothic brand. 

And, Twisted Wonderland? What in Lewis Carrol did he mean? 

"I don't–" Tim got his confirmation. So it's better to confront that man about Tim having no magic now, instead of in the middle of the ceremony. And of course he was interrupted.

"Only those who the Dark Mirror perceives as talented in magic are admitted to the Academy. Those are summoned by Gates which could appear anywhere," the crow man kept feeding him information without any thought.

So, it could appear anywhere. Such an easy way to kidnap. Could spin the story about them being so talented, that they were the 'chosen one' to study here. And why was he transported without his equipment then? Did it just drop right where he was standing before being abducted? That could be bad. 

"Anywhere? Then why–" started Tim, only to be interrupted again. A bit more and he was going to go full on Janet Drake on him.

“An Ebony Carriage carrying a Gate should have come meet you”

(Ebony? Ebony Dark'ness Dementia…Focus!)

“I don’t recall such thing,'' managed Tim to say something. 

“Huh? Seems like you had a bit of a bad reaction to the transportation…” murmured Crowley more to himself then to him. “Anyway! Let’s go to the entrance ceremony!” (god this man is awkward…)

Grim was trying to say something, but no one cared enough to listen to him. 

When they came closer to the ‘chamber’, they heard people talking about Headmage. Huh, looks like students weren’t thinking much about him as well.

But then all looks were on him, as Crowley asked him to go to the mirror. Tim tried to argue, but Crowley really wasn’t listening. That's bad.

“Wait, a girl?”

“What girl is doing here?”

“Maybe that’s…”

“State your name” said the ominous mirror, floating on top of /not/ Lazarus Waters. Tim tried to look as confident as he could. It really was time for Janet Drake.

“Caroline Hill” he said with some dominance in his tone.

“Your real name, boy” (Aw, there goes my cover)

––––

“Wait, what?”

“So… it’s a dude?”

“For real?”

“Since when is the mirror transphobic?”

“It wasn’t before…”

After some pause Tim tsked in the manner some socialists did. Or Damian. It was bad, because explaining later why TDW was here? But it looked like there was nothing he could do, not with all those people around, who all presumably had magic. Too many and he wasn't prepared enough.

“It’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, mirror,” he said, proud of his name.

“Hmm, the shape of your soul… is tarnished and unknown to me”

(Tarnished, you say…)

.

.

.

(sounds about right)

[tokenwisteria]

there's like literally no where else for me to ramble about this, but here is why i think a Tomodachi life two is probably never coming out unless the switch two has all these things

streetpass/spotpass

as far as I know, the switch currently doesn't have anything like this, this is a problem seeing as travellers from other islands primarily use this function. travellers are the only feature that uses this function, though, and it could easily be replaced by switch online and sending the mii off to some random island through that, or just being able to send the mii off, but that defeats the whole fun of walking around and sending the mii to someone you've crossed paths with.

the camera

many minigames involve the camera, such as the photography in the park, the cafe dream(?) and the magician minigame. these could be solved by using the IR camera, but pro controllers and lites don't have them, so those minigames wouldn't work

the dual screens

literally 90% of the game involves both screens working simultaneously (the proposal game, literally just looking at the island, being in miis rooms with the mii on the bottom and the information at the top, lookin at the miis room w/ the Windows on bottom and the miis on top, the concert halls, the item catching game, etc) now most of these may be translated well onto one screen, but the switch screen is one long rectangle, and it might be a struggle to place all the information onto one screen and have it look decent. miitopia did this well however, as most of the game took.place on the top screen, and most bottom screen stuff could be easy shuffled to the side or bottom of the switch screen.

microphone

as far as I can remember, a lot of things don't involve the mic, except for the BBQ game, but its still there

with all that said- if anyone wants to debunk some of these, and correct anything, feel free to!! this is just my opinion/thoughts, and why I don't think a tdl2 would be made anytime soon. I still hold out hope,, but I'll settle with miitopia for now :))

there's also things ive probably missed but oooh well.

BUUUUT

if it DOES get made for at least switch 2, there are SO many things that could be improved. but that's a whole other yap session. tomodachi life was a HUGE part of my childhood, and I would so love to see it reimagined and remade, especially with some features from miitopia!! (wigs and makeup,,,,)

[pollywiltse]

I swear, every time I see André clips from Turn, his looks are this weird mix of deep cuts and wtf are you even doing.

Like JJ Feild doesn't look all that much like the real André, but first time I saw one of the Joshua Reynolds pictures of Thomas Mills which were misidentified as André for years, I thought it looked uncannily like JJ Feild (though now I'm not sure the resemblance is quite that strong), so they didn't completely pull that casting out of their ass. (There will be no forgiveness for the height though. Or the age.) And I'm convinced that the reason André's dumbfuck little braid is blond is because someone doing hair and makeup found out about the lock of hair that's supposed to be the one he gave to Peggy Shippen, which is, in fact, blond, (though I would assume it was because it had either faded very badly or it wasn't actually his before I would assume he had a dumbfuck little blond braid, but you do you).

(I also find it funny how modern people seem to make a bigger deal about André being "foreign" than his contemporaries did, but then Turn cast someone who I'm literally unable to consistently tell apart from Tom Hiddleston, who I always think of as one of the most English-looking people ever.)

Or like how men with long hair did have the front and top of their hair cut shorter than the back, I assume to make the curls on the sides of their heads look right. And when I was double-checking to make sure I was remembering that this was a thing I found the people over at FrockFlicks talking about (for a different show) "This shorter hair in front/on top IS missed by a lot of modern stylists". So when JJ Feild is running around with his waxed chest and cute little bob, that's evidently a level of historically correct that most people miss. (For the head hair, not the chest hair.) But then they don't seem to ever give him the horizontal curls that are the entire point of having short hair in the front and when it's loose he's got very modern-looking vertical curls. I mean, yes, it's adorable, but I don't think that hair that has been curled and pomaded and powdered to within an inch of its life and then combed out would look like that.

(Also I realize powdered hair looks dorky to modern people, but he's got powdered hair in literally all his miniatures - and actually the picture he painted of his brother at like age ten also has powdered hair - and I think it might have been part of the dress code for officers? And yet it looks like in Turn he either has a white wig or his natural, uncurled brown hair, which he wears even at balls? Although it looks like maybe no one has powdered hair at balls even though that would probably be like showing up to a black tie event wearing a tuxedo and flip-flops.)

Or (not costumes, but) I'm pretty sure they had "Roslin Castle" playing during his very brief walk to his execution, which is going very deep on historical accuracy for a very small detail, but he's in the wrong uniform. Actually I'm not sure if they ever get his uniforms right, because the facings depended on which regiment you were in, and he was in the 23rd and then the 7th (which were both dark blue) from 1771 to sometime in 1777 when he bought a captain's commission in the 26th (yellow), and then after he was back in New York he was playing musical regiments so that he could stay in America and his brother could got back home, so he was in the 44th (also yellow) for five minutes and then ended up in the 54th (which was green), which was his regiment at the time he was executed. Unless aids de camp wore different uniforms? But I can't find anything suggesting that for the British army, and I don't think my google search terms are that bad.

[mistydeyes]

hey, i wanted to ask for a cod mw2 pairing if possible

I’m black (dark skinned) and around 5’7. I am plus sized but do try to be active in the pool. I normally wear glasses since that’s what i’m used to but I will wear contacts depending on what im doing that day or if i want to be extra with my makeup. My natural hair is either braided back or in twists so i can have a break from long braids or twists. I do have a decent collection of wigs which i try to take care of.

I am very smiley to the point where it’s stuck on my face. I care deeply for those im close with and my family. I am trying to build self confidence but I never let someone random try and ruin my day. I really like reading, listening to music, cooking/baking, and learning about anything (chemistry, embroidery, music production, etc).

For my future, i am hoping to become a foreign service officer or work for the cia as i study international relations and my current foreign language i’m taking is Chinese. I want to do that for a while and then transition to teaching as a way to inspire kids and help them understand intersectionality in daily life.

For my ideal partner, I would like someone who can just understand me. I love quality time and just enjoying each other’s company. I also have a huge habit of spoiling others and wanting to be spoiled almost every month. I also prefer talking in person as that feels more intimate than texting (unless we’ve been together for a while then texting is fine)

thank you for when ever you get to this!!!!

Phillip Graves (a/n BRO this man has such husband potential if he wasn't an absolute asshole but anon you sound like the coolest person ever and I hope that everything goes well with your major!)

How you met: Government "Morning, agent," the front guard greeted as you underwent security, "got a new wig I see." "You know it, have to use my government salary for something," you joked before entering the elevator. Working for the CIA had its perks, while you enjoyed a cushy salary, the amazing health insurance, and loan forgiveness, you were never able to have a great relationship outside of work. People got a little too nosy when on dates you told them you worked in the "private sector." The doors of the elevator began to close before a hand reached out to stop it. A blonde man who looked like he was more fit to be on a modeling shoot stepped in with a smile. "Looks like we're going to the same floor," he commented and stood next to you as the elevator ascended. You stood in the peaceful silence before he spoke up again. "Didn't know the government hired such gorgeous employees," he flirted and you smiled a little bit wider. "I'm sure they looked at my resume and not my face," you replied as you looked up at him. You couldn't deny he was handsome but you had been down this road before with other DC boys that weren't worth your time. "Well with a face like yours, I'm sure you come highly decorated." God this man was a smooth talker. As you came closer to your destination, he sighed dreamily. "The name's Phillip, hope to see you around, doll face," he winked at you before exiting. It wasn't until later that day when you entered a debrief with your superiors that you saw Phillip's blue eyes light up as you sat down and return his gaze.

A peek into your relationship: Anniversaries were the gift giving Olympics for you and Phillip. Every year you tried to one-up the other. Last year, you took the cake by giving him a sports car that he dreamed of ever since he became the CEO of the Shadow Company. You knew this year, he would be trying to outdo you. What you weren't expecting was being showered with gifts the day before your 5th anniversary. After a long day analyzing some Chinese intel, you entered your Georgetown apartment to the scent of thousands of roses. "Surprise, sweetheart," your boyfriend greeted as he kissed you gently. "Philip I thought our anniversary was tomorrow," you exclaimed as he pulled you into his arms. "Doesn't mean I can't spoil you today," he replied, "Now get dressed, I have something special prepared for you." Your laughter echoes through the hallway as you entered your bedroom. On the bed lay a dress that looked like it was spun from pure gold. You gasped as you put the silky fabric on and saw how it complimented your skin. Underneath the dress was a matching purse, an expensive brand you had only dreamed of owning. You opened it as you exited the hallway and saw a small white box on the inside. You delicately opened it as you made your way back to Graves. You could only hold a hand over your mouth as you saw a beautiful gold ring, adorned with crystals in an extravagant baguette shape. "Surprise gorgeous," Phillip replied before getting down on one knee. You hand to hand it to him, he gave you the best gift you could ever want.

[daguerreopher]

hii! i was wondering if i could ask what is your take on josephs values. like how old fashioned do you believe he would be or how heavily do you believe he would hold values of the past? ive seen in other your other posts youve said hes a man of this time so i was wondering what your take on this would be. my apologies if you dont take random questions but i appreciate your interpretation of joseph and was curious about what you think ab joseph outside his experiences and all that stuff.. thanks!

Hello!

My take on his values is a bit all over. Admittedly I don't know the most about 1800s French & English culture, so this is based on what I do know. As well as my own personal head canons about just how long he's been at the manor.

Since this got long, I'll put them under a read more.

Joseph cares a considerable amount about gentleman's honor. He doesn't care much about being called a madman anymore, but if you call him uncouth or weak, or insult his family, he will give you a gentleman's duel. Which is to the death. And unless you're a hunter like Hastur or the Wu Chang, Joseph will win. He grew up fencing, and he has the ability to manipulate spacetime.

And yes, by the way, there's a good chance he'll throw a white glove at you. He does still have a pair.

To go with that, leaders shouldn't show pain. Especially nobles. He was taught that things like pain, sadness, regret, and grief are weakness, and a noble leader should never show weakness in front of others. It's pathetic. People will either break and shatter when their leader shows weakness, or take advantage of it.

I believe Joseph would think women are more frail, and need to be treated more gently than men. Small things like men should pay for a woman's portion of a meal, men should be the ones to walk closer to the road. He still considers science more of a men's profession, but he no longer thinks women shouldn't be in science at all.

He wouldn't consider women less capable anymore, given how some of the strongest hunters Yihdra are women and things like how the survivors who beat him up half the time are women.

Joseph does respect nobility and royalty more than the common folk, even if the nobles are from a very different country. He think their opinions are more important and will hold them in higher regard until they prove him otherwise. While Joseph doesn't socialize much at the manor to begin with outside of drinking, he's far more likely to socialize with those of status.

And the inventors, but that's not a belief of his time period.

He also considers marriage exclusively for status. Marriage between noble houses was to raise their own house's status, and Joseph kept his friend circle full of nobility until he left for the manor. You marry someone to improve your social standing. So he doesn't believe people marry for love, and believes most marriages if not all are loveless. As well as he believes most people, like the nobles he knew, cheat on their spouses and just keep it under wraps.

Joseph does believe cheating is horrible, though.

He disagrees with prostitution and brothels, and people sleeping with others for things like better jobs. As well as being sexual in public in general. Of course, both whores and the people who pay for them are distasteful.

To go off of that, while I don't think he condemns homosexuality, Joseph does think it a bit strange and unnatural (at the moment). But his main concern would be being sexual about it in public. Gay or straight, Joseph's views are that you should stick to gentle hand holding and barely even kiss in public.

Joseph doesn't have much of a concept about femininity versus masculinity, I mean look at how he dresses. It's perfectly fine in his eyes for men to wear high heels, bright colors, wigs, hair ties and bows, makeup, even to use perfume. The flowier and fancier to clothing, in fact, the better. Robes are perfectly fine as well, but they're night clothing.

He does think it distasteful for a man to wear a dress, though, as dresses were specifically for women. And he was probably baffled the first time he saw Lucky Guy in the maid dress.

To go with that, Joseph also finds it incredibly distasteful when people show more than their hands and face. Men and women should dress modestly to him. If you don't, you're either poor as dirt, or a prostitute.

I believe Joseph doesn't actually have a concept for trans people. He might have heard of cases like "a lady lives as a man for 20 years", but he'd see that as a case of a woman just pretending to be a man to keep a job or have a certain life style. Not that someone was born in the wrong body, or that their gender wasn't their body. Much like mental trauma, the concepts of body and gender dysphoria don't even exist for Joseph. The concept of gender isn't the same as sex doesn't exist to him. The concept of there's more than two genders doesn't exist.

As far as Joseph knows, the only option is you're your sex from birth. Present him with a challenge to that idea, and expect a lot of "but why?/but how" in response.

He does believe children should be quieter and entertain themselves, and they shouldn't annoy adults around them. Hilariously enough, I head canon that Claude and him were quite the pranksters as children.

My Joseph doesn't think corporal punishment is a good thing due to a few incidents after Claude's death where he was actually injured from it, but he does consider it normal. As much as he wants to keep children safe, he's been quite tempted to slap a few before.

He tolerates Robbie since Robbie's easy to distract/entertain.

He was probably a protestant when he lived in his own estate, but there's at least four literal gods at the manor, so that was thrown at the window.

Also, it's my personal head canon that the manor taught Joseph the concept of lesbians, because England sure didn't think women could be sexual toward each other.

Admittedly, most of these ideas and values can be changed. Joseph has his thoughts, but at the end of the day, he just wants to keep people alive and get his brother back. He's not very adamant on anything but keeping his image honorable, and that one is because it's been instilled in him since birth.

[fitzrove]

secrets

Things I would do for Illegal Finnish Elisabeth:

- There would be little to no costume budget so everything would be very simple: Tod in a loose dark blue/black shirt (I own one that would work perfectly actually fjkfkf), black pants and leather boots, the ladies of the court incl Elisabeth in whatever dresses we could thrift, Rudolf and FJ... hmm, I guess we could try our luck at finding something to style into uniform jackets. Lucheni is quite easy - just something dark. BUT i would absolutely want to splurge on Elisabeth's costume for the portrait reveal. Like, just make a full-on Sternkleid replica that looks ridiculously more fancy than everything else that's been seen. It adds to the Kitsch.

- fem Tod but 1) zuka vibes 2) she gets to sing with her own voice (we would need someone who has that range without straining) and not the "otokoyaku voice" zuka actresses often do 3) she's styled in a very masculine way for the Rudolf scenes, like, extra contouring and different hairstyle levels of difference XD 4) my preference would be for a tall blonde to save up on wig costs and get the look i'm thinking of, but it's not an absolute requirement. The main feature of Tod makeup would be copious amounts of black eyeshadow in a emo rockstar way. You may think these casting requirements are explicitly geared towards me casting myself in the role but SHHHHH.

- Actually we can just have women play every role unless guys happen to show up, because in my experience there's always a shortage of men in hobbyist musical theatre. Would just have to try to cast based on vocal range and sound

- I think it would be possible to get a fog machine, lots of schools and random parties even have them. So we would have minimal sets and a fog machine. Except the portrait frame in the portrait reveal would be opulent XD It adds to the claustrophobic fantasy world feel if things are happening in a black box (and spares our budget). But whenever sets are really needed (like for Schatten), there would be something - maybe a raised platform block that can be covered with different types of cloth. Would be so interesting for the same setpiece to double as Rudolf's bed/the ikea table/whatever and his coffin in Totenklage

- Idk how big an ensemble we could recruit considering the unlicensed, unpaid and secretive nature of the production, so lots of roles would be doubled up. Use pre recorded backing vocals if necessary. In general, a live orchestra/band could be difficult to make happen, so it's very low on the priority list

- Make a new translation of the songs and libretto. 1) existing Finnish one bad 2) eliminates one possible legal team from coming for me. Or translate it into English and make Illegal International Elisabeth

- every character is like super gay and stuff idk [insert generic todolf comment] [insert comment about subversion representation and historical narratives]

[mindynichole]

Ummm...I might have stumbled onto something big here guys.

WARNING: THIS POST MIGHT CONTAIN CASTING SPOILERS FOR TWD DARYL SPIN-OFF....READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

So last week, Norman posted this picture of an adorable little girl on his Instagram who is apparently going to be part of the Daryl Spin-off:

And I found myself stewing all week over this picture because I couldn’t help but think that little girl seemed so familiar. We don’t know her name but she’s been seen before in things related to the new show. We also don’t know who her character will be - though there is a certain ship who assumes that just because she appears to be of mixed race, she will actually be Daryl’s child with a certain someone. 

*However, I do not think this will be the case - and no, it’s not just because I’m biased. I’m actually working on a post explaining why at the moment* 

Anyhow, all we currently know for sure is it seems like this little girl will play some sort of role in the spin-off - at least initially. The rumor floating around certain trusted spoiling circles is that she might be palling around with Daryl for at least a little while. 

So since she looked so familiar and I’ve failed at identifying the actress using the normal methods, I’ve passed this post around to some of my crew all week long to see if any of them recognize her. That answer was a firm “No” but everyone did agree that she was definitely a child acting in some capacity on the show. Here are some things my peeps pointed out:

She is in full costume

She is not a Zombie 

She is in special effects makeup

She is wearing a lace front wig (apparently you can see how they blended it into the dirt makeup on her forehead) which makes sense because who would want to attempt to get all that gunk out of a child’s hair everyday? Imagine the knots!

She is absolutely adorable!

And then it finally hit me where I might have seen her before…

So do you all remember last week when I pointed out the Junona Fashion House picture Emily recently shared as an Instagram story?

It happened to be from the Paris Collection and I observed how coincidental EK posting something related to Paris right as filming for the Daryl Spin-off starting up was.

Well let’s just say there might be even more to this “story” than I originally thought. 

Because if you look at some more of these Paris Collection pictures side by side with the one Norman posted - you realize that the model looks an awful lot like the one appearing in the Daryl Spin-off:

Of course, there’s no way to know for sure if it is the same girl until we get a couple more straight on shots from the Spin-off showing her entire face.

However, when I passed this comparison around to the same crew from before, everybody’s consensus was the model was probably the same child pictured on set by Norman - only in a lace front wig.

So while we can’t be sure if it’s her or not, it’s definitely more than enough to raise suspicions. For now, the resemblance is a bit more than simply uncanny.

If they do end up being the same girl, this is huge! Because the question becomes why would Emily have any connection to the child actress appearing in Norman’s spin-off being filmed in Paris unless she was also somehow connected to the little girl and the show?

For the record, I was able to identify the Junona model as a little french girl by the name of Halima or Hali for short. I do not know anything else about her (and would honestly feel creepy if I did - she’s a little girl) other than she’s done lots of other Paris fashion houses, seems to be at least bilingual (French/English), and this was her latest fashion shoot done not too long ago.

I could not find any acting credits but that would not be unusual without a last name and with all the information available about her being limited to this particular fashion shoot. Also, she is young and this could be her first acting gig.

Just to cover my tracks, I could not find any apparent connection between the Canadian-born - but mostly International (mainly Paris and Brussels) - child photographer, Emily Kornya and either EK, TWD, or any other project EK has worked on. She has done work in NYC a few times here and there so unless they crossed paths or circles somehow when EK lived there, it doesn’t appear that EK knows her personally or anything.

Anyway…thoughts?

[endlessly-cursed]

Over the Brink of War, Prologue: The Calm Before the Storm

Author’s Notes: 

This year has been eventful in many ways, especially in the fandom, and especially from the moment I interacted properly with my dear friend Lari @kathrynalicemc​ Ever since, creativity and awesomeness ensued. This first prologue is dedicated to you, sweetie, as a Christmas gift. 

Summary: Elodie Dubois has a secret / Semele’s life takes a turn / Jacob is not doing so well... 

Featuring...: Elodie Dubois, Sebastian Dubois, James Dubois, Jacob Dubois, Semele Thorne, Charles Beaufort

OCs mentioned: Lyubomir Vulchanov ( @magicallymalted​ ) Penny Haywood, Isabelle Dubois, Ben Copper 

June 1996, York, England, 20.06 p.m. 

“Thank you for the dinner, mother, it was incredible,” Sebastian kissed her mother, smiling at her with the same smile he had “it was lovely as usual.” 

“Yeah, Gran, you outdo yourself every time,” her grandson James agreed. 

Elodie smiled at her boys “I am glad. James, dear, when is the baby due?” 

James smiled widely “It shall be due early into the next year. We have been confirmed it will be a girl.” 

Elodie beamed “How lovely! I have missed having some ladies around.” 

They both smiled and hugged the old woman goodbye. The moment the lift was running down, she ran towards the bathroom and started to cough and vomit, feeling light and dizzy, trembling and weak. She sighed and cleaned herself, looking into the mirror and taking off her wig: every day she lost more and more hair. 

How long did she have to carry this burden? She had wanted to announce her illness, but the moment her grandson announced that he’d be a father with his Veela wife, she had decided to keep it a secret until it was either too late or had no other option. She had begged her own doctor not to say a thing unless she were indeed dying. 

I cannot die before that bastard. 

She had promised herself that she’d keep herself alive until Tom Riddle, now Voldemort, were truly dead. She had high hopes for the boy, Harry Potter, and had corresponded with him the whole time, telling him facts he should know of him, as someone who knew him intimately. 

She sighed and went to the kitchen, where her meds she passed as ‘old woman’s meds’ were hidden and took them. She’d have to go to the hospital soon. She only got out with permission and approval of the staff. But for now, she’d enjoy listening to the newest songs on the radio as she watched MTV. She may be old, but she still enjoyed some drama and missed feeling young and alive. 

The last time she felt like that was before she conceived her dear son. She didn’t regret having him, but did regret the circumstances of it. She knew that Lyubomir’s obsession would get worse and affect their child, but she still missed the Miro she had fallen in love with: the sweet, kind, affectionate, loving and soft-spoken man who made her feel alive, beautiful and in tune with herself. She did wonder if she had told him that she was carrying their child he would’ve turned his back on necromancy and be a father. She wondered if he would’ve loved being Sebastian’s father. Part of her said yes, another part said no. 

She wanted to call him and tell him everything, beg him to come back and be his father and the grandfather of James at least. But her voice always told her ‘It is too late by now. He doesn’t deserve it. He never did. He doesn’t even remember us’. But could one truly forget what they had? Did he consider her the love of his life like she did? Did he miss her? Ever thought of contacting her? She always mused about it. Did he? 

She shook her head. Of course not. He was probably buried on his studies, too busy playing God to care. Why would he? Tears threatened to spill. No. No. No. For her sake, she wouldn’t. She took a deep breath and started to do her makeup and put on back her wig until she reached St. Mungo’s and was safe back on her bed. To her treatment. To her chemo, which she had planned herself and appointed her doctors. 

With her head high and a smile, she left her home and went back to her actual life: a life in white walls full of death and people who danced at the edge of it every day. 

London, England, Big Ben, 22.30 p.m

Semele Thorne walked blindly across the Big Ben with her boyfriend, Charles, and walked her towards something she couldn’t see. No matter what she asked, he always said to have patience and let things flow, and she did as he asked. 

When they finally reached their destination, he dropped the fold and she gasped. There was a private room with petals of roses everywhere, candles and a pillow fort built. She looked back to him and smiled “Is this all for me?!” 

He smiled “Yes, but first things first,” he dropped to his knees and she gasped “Will you marry me, Semele Alexandrina Thorne?” 

She nodded “Yes. Yes, Charles!” She threw herself to his arms as he placed the ring on it and picked her up, taking her to the pillow fort. They spent most of the night tangled on one another, giggling and enjoying their engagement. She’d soon be Mrs. Beaufort! What else could she ask for? 

She had met him a year ago and the two clicked instantly, too instantly said her aunt Anais. But she didn’t mind. Soulmates were soulmates, right? Sometimes they didn’t need time, they just loved one another. And she did love him. 

But sometimes she doubted her love. It didn’t feel quite like the books of fairy-tale or how her mother had written about it in her diary. She was but a child when they buried her but she missed her every day and her aunt had plenty to tell herself from her, having been sisters-in-law. They had fallen in love after her mother beat her father on a debate in the Ministry and the two of them went from scholars to lovers, and though her father was older than her, they loved one another nevertheless. 

She wondered if Charles loved her too. She knew that he was wounded from his previous fiancée, but she was not her. She was far more mature than her, according to him. He always said how crazy she was and that she was childish, stupid and like other girls, unlike Semele. That flattered her very much. 

How little she knew at the moment, that the fall of the government would bring severe consequences. 

Nottingham, England, 1996, 00:35 a.m. 

Jacob Dubois found himself running away from Death Eaters again. They had been after him for some time, and though he had improved on his running routine, the prowess did not change much. He still had skill, but the hunger, tiredness and constant moving did not help. Other outcasts like Remus Lupin had helped him, but only for a while. Only Tonks, a former classmate of his dear sister Isabelle had helped him with no prejudices. 

He ducked, dodging a Cruciatus Curse and attacked with a defensive and sneaky spell, and an Expelliarmus over there. He dodged an Incacerous and a Bombarda, and attacked with a Flipendo and Depulso, finishing off the third one with a special spell that Severus Snape had taught him long ago: Sectumspectra. The man screamed and moaned in pain, and he took his chance and jumped off the bridge, apparating himself to safety. He lived not-so-away from the Chateau Dubois and always kept an eye on his sister and her wife, Penny. He found her sweet and perfect for Penny, and was now with child. That is why he always spoke the Lord’s name and openly offended Death Eaters: to protect Isabelle like he hadn’t been capable during her time at Hogwarts. For the sake of her and his future niece, he had to do questionable things, something like an Unspeakable, and keep them out of harm’s way. And corresponding with Ben Copper, who often visited the pair, helped. Of course, Issy didn’t know of their correspondence, and now with her pregnancy, she shouldn’t. 

She deserved a family, not to be on the run and terrified for her life. That was his job. The one he had been having since his expulsion from Hogwarts in his sixth year. He thought he was saving them, but after Duncan's death it all went downhill. He auto-healed his own wounds with an Espikey and hoped for the best. He had been hit by the Cruciatus Curse before, and only went to the hospital because an idiot young wizard decided to. He had to bribe the nurses not to rat him out. He was an outcast and Dumbledore would want his secrets of who the Mahoutokoro former student had been and what he had done with Rackepick. Though he could tell that he had indeed killed her, he’d want a confession. He refused to end up like Sirius Black. He wasn’t that stupid to believe in an old man who made his students his little puppet soldiers while he crossed his arms and watched. He would not be his toy. The example of his relative Elodie was good enough. Isabelle also could tell Dumbledore’s nature, but said nothing out of politeness. 

He laid on his bed and looked at the time. Nearly 1 a.m. He exhaled and closed his eyes, dreaming again of facing a faceless foe, both battling until he was struck with green lighting and then he woke up. He was going to die, but when? Where? How? Would he be a hero like Rowan Khanna, or a coward? 

Only time, and the fall of the ministry the next year, could tell.

[yourthirdparent]

cowboy themed theyna wedding where everyone dresses like super like cowfolk semiformal (specifically thinking of a guy at my school who, next to the entire homecoming court, wore a button up, jeans, and a cowboy hat with boots. that's what everyone at the wedding wears) except for jason, who is wearing full like an actual wedding dress and makeup and a wig and everything so he straight up just looks like a tall pretty woman. like he's dressed in convincing drag. nobody knows it's him though, and he's been pretending to not be able to attend the wedding to everyone but thalia and reyna (they planned it. jason could never) so everyone thinks he just couldn't be there. he's also very vague about his identity and every time someone asks who he is he says "family of the bride" and never says which bride or what kind of family and every time he's asked his name he says "oh that's a big indicator, i wouldn't want you guessing my age!" like one of those women who says you should never ask a lady her age except her name is really old fashioned and you'd guess how old she is if you heard it so she suggests that you don't ask her name unless you'll meet her again (this kind of person probably doesn't exist but it's necessary for jason to do this to conceal his identity so roll with it and accept it) (he may also flirt with the person asking instead, like "do you need it to fill out my contact? perhaps ask my number first" cuz it'd be easier. and more fun)

all of this to say: percy going to his good friend thalia's wedding, sad that jason couldn't attend, and then immediately getting distracted when a very pretty very tall woman who stands out among the cowboy themed crowd in a dazzling wedding gown sits next to him throughout the ceremony. he immediately tries to find out who she is because wow she is just absolutely fucking gorgeous, he's gotta bring her home with annabeth, only to be told that her name is too old fashioned and she wouldn't want him assuming her age AND to find that she won't disclose her relation to either bride. of course, because it's a demigod wedding with fucking thalia and reyna, several gods are in attendance and hiding their identities among a number of mortals (many of which struggled a bit with the theme), and percy knows this, so he assumes this beautiful woman is the goddess hera and accepts that he can't ask her out because yk, marriage goddess. plus, he supposes it'd explain the wedding gown instead of like, a normal flashy unfitting outfit. but then, seeing her so friendly with thalia, he believes that it couldn't be hera because hera would never be so cool with her, and he chooses to ask the brides about the identity of the woman, only to finally, FINALLY, have it explained to him that the lovely lady he's been thirsting over for the whole wedding AND reception, practically a whole 6 hours, is his friend jason, brother of the bride thalia, dearest friend of the bride reyna.