#Early Modernish

[gwydpolls]

Time Travel Question 51: Early Modernish and Earlier

These Questions are the result of suggestions a the previous iteration. This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct earlier time grouping. In some cases a culture lasted a really long time and I grouped them by whether it was likely the later or earlier grouping made the most sense with the information I had.

Please add new suggestions below if you have them for future consideration. All cultures and time periods welcome.

[ventisnumberone]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ You can service me..in a different way.. ੈ

Tartaglia x Maid! Reader

Synopsis: Your a maid who works at one of the hotels of Liyue, your job is usually pretty boring but there’s rumors of a strong, handsome and dangerous Fatui Harbinger staying in the nicest suite of the hotel.

(lowercase intended 🤬)

Tags: modernish au! this is gonna be 𝓕𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓚𝓨. afab reader, dub-con i think?, impact play, praise, degrading, semi-public(?), pussy eating, fingering, breeding, claiming, lowkey blackmailing,squirting, you call him sir, childe is a degenerate 😒, reader is lowkey a bimbo, one misogynist, picture taking with out permission, prostitution if you wanna call it that i guess?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩

You were just a simple little maid with a simple life cleaning up after people paying high amounts of money to stay in Liyue’s number one hotel. Who knew rich people were so dirty? You have to put with these snobs bullshit everyday without blowing a fuse. You just smile and do what your asked no matter how frustrating it is, and it is. Always dealing with gross old men commenting on your cliche maid outfit, and how fitting it is they put a woman like you for the job of cleaning up after them. the only joy you get out of this job is hearing about the vast range of people who check into the hotel. it can go from a dilf on vacation who all your other hotel staff friends are thirsting over to those gross ‘creepy serial killer’ vibe people. However today there was talk about a person who rented out the most expensive suite, the staff has suspected this mystery man is a harbinger for the fatui. You scoff at the thought of a crazed murderer staying at your place of work. You didn’t want to believe this guy was actually that dangerous and capable of doing such heinous crimes but you kept an open mind. Two days passed of the mystery man checking in had gone by and rumors were spreading faster and faster. People have been saying he smells like blood and are scared to service his room. In the break room the maids are gossiping about how attractive he is but are too afraid to clean his room. your ears perked up at their conversation, it was still early in the morning so you had been sipping on some tea and browsing a newspaper sitting on the sofa in the room. Three maids were shamelessly talking about this poor man when you had enough and butt in saying, “y’know if you guys want me too i can go up to his floor and just clean his room if you guys don’t want to? i don’t mind at all.” you say nonchalantly. they share a look before they nod giving you a slightly concerned look. ‘What’s the big deal? why are they making such a fuss about this guy..? they are saying how hot he is one second and then the next how scary he is..’ you think mentally rolling your eyes. a few minutes pass and your done with your coffee and you go to grab a cleaning cart and make your way to the elevator. As you climb up the floors anxiety starts to set in. ‘why am i getting nervous he’s just a normal guy…everyone is just freaking out…calm down y/n…’ you think while slightly chewing on your bottom lip subconsciously.

you finally reach the top floor of the hotel and the elevator doors open, you push your cart to the end of the hallway. you realize there’s only 1 occupied room on this floor so that must be his. you reach the door of the man’s room and you notice their isn’t a card on the door saying no to cleaning service so you unlock the door with your key. you gingerly push the door open and see a tall, muscular ginger staring at you. “oh-! sorry-! i didn’t know anyone was in here-! so sorry..” you stammer as your cheeks flush. you didn’t expect the man everyone was talking about to be so…hot? you go to leave but the man speaks up. “you don’t have to leave you know..you can clean or whatever i just am doing work..so i really don’t mind.” he says a slight smile tugging at his lips. you could have sworn he looks you up and down. “uh..okay? as long as you don’t mind..i’ll be quick.” you say pulling your cart into the room. you begin cleaning and the man begins to fill out papers. you start sweeping the floor and emptying trash cans. you’ve only cleaned a room with a guest present once before so this was a pretty awkward situation. you bent down slightly to grab a bit of trash off of the floor unintentionally giving the man a full view of your white lacey panties. the man looks over at you and blushes slightly. Unknowingly you continue cleaning. you start to make the bed when you look over at the man who’s physique looks so good from the back. unfortunately your staring at him for a little too long and he notices and turns around to look at you. “you know…it’s rude to stare dear..” he says with a faux pout. “oh-! n-no i wasn’t trying to- i was just spacing out-!” you say with a stutter trying to justify your actions. the man gets up from the desk and walks over to you and tilts your chin up with his hand to make you look up at him. you look up at through your eyelashes and a blush dusts your cheeks. “i see you bending over for me dear, your not very slick…how about you remove those pretty panties of yours for me? hmm?” he says with a smirk. “wh-what-? i can’t do that-!” you say taken aback by his words and charisma. you consider it, but just show him a shocked expression. “hmm..no fun..how about this? what if i give you an extra ‘tip’..if you do this for me, how does that sound?” he says winking. your mouth falls open slightly and you glance down to his crotch to reveal a tent in his trousers. “oh what a dirty mind you have…i wasn’t talking about that kind of tip..but if you want that i can have that arranged.” he says pulling out a leather wallet and pulling out a large sum of mora. “sir…i can’t take your money..i will admit you are very handsome but this goes against our policy..” you say bitting on your bottom lip nervously. “i won’t tell if you won’t girlie…” he says with that same devilish smirk. “fine…but i could get into serious trouble for this-!” you say before grabbing the mora from him and skidding your panties off your hips and balling them up in your hands. the man holds his hand out gesturing you to give them to him so you comply. you’ve never been with a guy with this much dominance and overall confidence. “you can continue cleaning…i’ll just be here watching…” he says look at you admiring your curves. you go over to the bed to finish making it, you feel the cold wind from the ac graze your bare pussy and you whine a little at the feeling of being so exposed. you can’t help but feel your core tighten around nothing as you think about what this guy will do to you in the awaiting moments.

you finish making the bed and you notice the man get up from the chair he’s sitting in. he walks over towards you and grabs your hips from behind and bends over to whisper in your ear. “y’know girlie…your really starting to turn me on…and i can see you getting wetter by the second..how about i do you a favor and make your cute little pussy feel good? would you like that?” he says, his hot breath tickling your ear. “y-yes sir-” you say before he roughly flips you on your back and spreads your thighs apart lifting your dress a bit to reveal your glistening cunt on display. he dips one of his long fingers into your hole earning a whimper from you. he leans his head into your cunt to lick a long stripe on your pussy, he adds a second finger into your hole and gives your clit a kiss. he wraps his lips around your little bud and sucks on it lapping his tongue on it. your thighs are wrapping around his head and your tugging at his gorgeous ginger hair. your squirming and moaning out for him. he lifts his head up removing his lips from your clit to deliver a harsh smack to your thigh. “stop squirming so much.” he says glaring at you. you stop moving around and pout. he gives his attention back to your pussy. he curls his fingers inside you hitting that spot inside of you that makes you scream. you haven’t had that spot hit before, this guy is an expert. you start babbling nonsense, your head feels foggy and you scream feeling your release approaching. “s-sir-! i’m gonna-! agh fuck~!” you moan out. “there you go baby…cum on my fingers…” he coos with that signature smirk. your vision goes white as your release hits you like a truck, you squirt for the first time and drool runs down your chin. you have a death grip on the sheets of the used to be made bed. you pant as your vision restores. you chest heaves as you look at the ginger between your legs. “ahh..i’m sorry-! didn’t mean to do that…” you pant. “it’s all good girlie…you taste delicious by the way..such a good girl.” he says sitting up. “now i think it’s your turn to service me huh?” he unbuttons his shirt, and takes off his belt and sliding his trousers down. you remove your dress following his lead. your sitting up on the bed admiring his physique. “ tsk tsk..girlie you know it’s rude to stare…how about we do something about your naughty behavior..yeah?” he says before flipping you over on the bed so your on your stomach and face is buried into the pillows. you feel him unclip your bra and pull it off you before he pulls his boxers down. “are you ready girlie?” you feel his tip brush your folds. “y-yes…s-sir..” you mutter. you feel his large cock enter you and you gasp. you didn’t know he was this big. he pushes the rest of his length into your hole. he waits a second before beginning to move letting you get adjusted to his length. a few seconds pass before he slowly starts thrusting. he grabs your hips to steady himself.

“oh my- god- sweetie your so tight..!” he groans. “if i didn’t know any better i would think your a virgin…fuck-! but- hah~ then again your still so slutty~ so..you can’t be one~..” he groans as he thrusts faster into you. you can’t help but moan at his harsh words. “i can feel you clenching your cunt on my cock~ slut~!” he teases. he continues to fuck you hard. his cock hitting your g-spot making you scream. “ah..fuck girlie i’m gonna-” he says before cumming deep inside you. “s-sir-! i’m gonna c-cum-” you scream. “call me tartaglia slut.” he says rubbing your clit. you heart sinks at the name. the rumors were true. your being fucked by a fatui harbinger. “what’s the matter? finally figure out who i am? hm?” he says pinching your clit. “tar-tartaglia~! oh my fuck-!” you squeeze your eyes tight before cumming around his cock. your a cock drunk babbling mess, drool dripping down your chin. staining the pillows, your hair is messy and your too fucked out to care you just got railed by a murderer. “cmon let’s get you cleaned up..and by the way..i took pictures of you so if you dare tell anyone about my identity i will leak this to your boss.” his casual tone sent shivers down your spine. but you knew this wasn’t going to be your last time seeing him.

“by the way i’m keeping your panties.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩

this lowkey kinda sucks but i wanted to post smth hope you liked it 💋💋💋

[sugarsfics]

King For A Day

Summary: Eddie’s shirts scores him a date on the girl he has his eye on.  

Trope: acquaintances to lovers? Modernish  

A/N: While i was working on Eddie x private!school!reader, Virgin!Eddie and a request I was also doing this on and I ended up finishing it first soooooo yeaaa.....This fic has nothing to do with the song title I chose it just seemed fitting because Eddie 100% felt like a king in this......Also I am sad that I wasn’t able to buy tickets for their tour so I am manifesting that a knight in shining leather will save me with tickets so then this fic was born (Sorry for the long a/n)

Warnings: 18+,mention of a wet dream, Cussing, Eddie being a dork, more so of Eddie's pov and thoughts, use of y/n

Word count: 1.5k 

Eddie is currently nursing his beer at a party that he didn’t want to be at. His friend Steve Harrington was having a little house party and told Eddie that he had to come. Eddie and Steve friendship is fairly new, they have been in the same friend group for about a year almost two, but recently have been getting close to call each other a friend, Steve also invited the older members of the Hellfire club they were skeptical but trusted in their DM. They all stayed together on the couch “There’s your girl” Jeff said to Gareth. Gareth’s girlfriend, Liz, walked in “And yours” he nudged Eddie then saw you walked in with Liz. 

6 months ago, Gareth introduced Liz to Hellfire, but Eddie's focused was on you. You were behind them trying to not be seen, only there for moral support, but Eddie saw you it was like a halo and spotlights were on you. The boys found out about his crush on Gareth's birthday, Gareth was having a pool party, of course he invited Liz, but Eddie was shocked when you came, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, not like he couldn’t before, but now you were in a swim suit. That night the boys had a sleepover, or as Gareth told Liz a “hang out that may include sleeping,” with your body on his mind Eddie had a wet dream the boys were woken up by Eddie whimpering and moaning your name. Eddie woke up to them laughing, he was mortified when they told him what happened. Eddie left early the next morning for business, but he was embarrassed, he told them that if they ever spoke on that night again, they will be banished from Hellfire and their characters would die a gruesome death. Gareth has been slowly hyping up Eddie to you and Liz to tell you and it was working.  

You and Liz weren’t from Hawkins, you guys lived in the city close to Hawkins. She met Gareth through one of her online games. You being her best friend was fucking scared for her life meeting a guy online could go horrible in many ways, on their first date you stay in her car hidden, it was something you both did on the first dates, Gareth didn’t kidnap her so he was going pretty good then they became a thing and he wanted her to meet his friends, of course you went because you are paranoid and this whole time it could have been a whole scheme to kidnap her, but the only that was stolen was your heart by a curly haired dork. 

Gareth walked up to you girls greeting you and hugging Liz then bringing you both to the couch. Eddie made eye contact with you, you smiled and waved at him, he was so glad that Steve’s house was dark because he could feel his face heating up with blush.  

You were standing awkwardly next to Liz and Gareth while they were sucking faces. You were looking around when you meet with Eddie’s brown eyes again, he smiled and patted to the seat next to him you looked around the pointed to yourself mouthing “me?” he nodded. “Hi” he said when you sat “Hey thanks for saving me” “Yea I been a victim of third wheeling myself, so I didn’t want a fair maiden like you to be one” smooth he thought. He took a sip of his warm beer and grimace at the warmth “I’m going to grab a drink do you want anything” “Sure water please” “You know you are at an infamous Steve the hair Harrington’s party” “So I have heard but” you looked at Liz “She is on her third drink so that leaves me the driver” “Well then I will be back with you water” he bow Eddie what the fuck was that he mentally smacked his head. He hurried to the coolers outside, grabbed his beer then dug to the bottom of the cooler to grab you the coldest water.  

He felt his heart drop at the sight in front of him, Steve has taken his spot he was flirting with you. Steve did his hair move that Eddie knew too well from watching flirt trying to subtly get tips on how to woo you. He should have known that if you left a pretty girl alone Steve would find them. He walks up to you with his head down “Here is your water y/n” he missed the way your eyes lit up hearing his voice “Thank you Eddie” you scoot over “Here I kept your spot warm” “Oh” he gasped “Thank you” he melted in the seat because of how your scent lingered. Steve started talking to you again which made Eddie quietly groaned “So y/n other than water what do you like to drink” Steve said “Oh um Strawberry Lemonde is my favorite” I CAN’T HAVE ANYTH- “What about you Eddie” he was shocked that you were facing him and talking to him while Steve was in sitting next to you “I-um like Kool-Aid" really Eddie now she is going to think you’re a kid-  “What flavor?” “The red one” “Pretty basic” you joked “What could I say I like the classics”  

Steve left a while ago but you both didn’t notice; shit you didn’t notice how long you guys were talking Eddie forgot that he was at a party till he saw you squirming in your seat. “Are you ok” he asked “Yeah I am fine it is just really humid in here” he had been feeling the stickiness for a while but didn’t want to ruin his moment. “Oh, yea I didn’t even realize that” *lie* “Do you want go outside” “Yes please” he places a hand on your back and guides you outside the warmth of his hand that you definitely want to feel more of. Outside there were still people but not as many, it had a more chill vibe than the inside. “Ah much better” you sighed. The porch light was on so Eddie was able to see your outfit, a grey tee shirt, a skirt with ripped tight and some well-loved black converse, it may have been for the black sweater he was wearing or you, but his body felt like it was on fire. You watched a group of people playing beer pong and saw Eddie moving from the corner of your eye, he was taking off his sweater, you started to watch him struggle out of his sweater then his shirt started to rise and you saw a the patch of hair going to his forbidden area you turned back to watch the beer pong player before you stared for too long. 

Eddie finally got out of his sweater; he was super confused on why it was so hard to get out of it but that is a question for later. “So, tell me more about where you lived” he started you turned to him “Oh well it- *gasp* is that a Pierce The Veil shirt” he looked down at himself “Yes, it is” “The is my favorite band” “What!! Me too” Sorry Sabbath I will make it up later “I was so bummed that I wasn’t able to get tickets since they are playing close” “Well well today might be your lucky day” you looked at him confused “I may have an extra ticket” your eyes widen “What” “Yea my buddy won’t be able to make it I was going to sell it and go by myself but having you be next to me wouldn’t be so bad” smooth Eddie you are on a roll tonight “Are you joking” “No would you like to see Pierce The Veil with me” “YES” you pulled him into a hug “oh my I am sorry I was excited and-” “It was perfectly fine” “How much” “I’m sorry” “How much do I owe you” “For?” “The ticket silly” “Oh nothing” “No I am not going to not pay for the ticket” “I invited you, so you are not paying” “But I must pay you back somehow” “Simple go on a date with me” “A date?” “Yes u-unless you don’t want to go on a date with me then we could go as fri-” you brought your finger to his mouth “I would love to go on a date with you” “Great can I- um" he scratched the back of his neck “Get your number” “Yes” you pulled out a pen from your purse and wrote down your number on his hand. “I-” Eddie was about to speak when Liz came outside with Gareth “Y/n I am ready to go are you” you gave Eddie a sorry look “Yes I will meet you at the car” she nodded her head then went back inside with Gareth “unfortunately I have to go but I had a great time” “Me too I actually had fun for once” “I should probably be home around 1 so call me” you said kissing his cheek “YES *cough* I mean yea sure” you giggled and waved at him leaving him behind to go take care of your bestie.  

Eddie drove home with two things on his mind you and how he was going to find to tickets to a sold out concert.  

tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh

[iiitsnotbase]

28 Arlo/Auggie?? (Maybe modernish au?)

This takes place in my college AU, 6 months later than were we are now!

Arlo had her head on Auggie’s chest, listening to him breathing in and out. Auggie looked down at her, and the hole in her hand. Since meeting her in the kitchen, the hole had never seemed to bug him, like it had bugged everyone else she had ever met. Ever the inquiring mind, Auggie had asked once what had happened. Arlo had given it in the briefest of terms. For now though, she lay with her head on his chest, listening to his breathing. 

“Arlo.” He said, “Please.” She sat up and looked at him, eyes wide and sad. “I have to go.” She leaned down and kissed him, softly on the mouth, then his cheek. “You are extremely distracting,” He said, smiling. She smiled right back at him. The sunrise cut across his eyes, making them shine emerald green, more so than they already were. Arlo also had an early-morning class today, so it wasn’t unnatural for her to be up at this hour. It wasn’t unnatural anyway, she thought, lifting her nightgown over her head. 

“Are you excited?” She asked absent-mindedly. She had never really thought of her back as beautiful before, but Auggie staring at it, dry-mouthed, was one of the finest sights she had ever seen. She turned her head over her back, and he remembered himself. 

“Very. I can’t wait to go back and tell them all the fancy words I’ve learnt. Like…” He struggled for a word he didn’t know. Arlo was still shirtless, silently enjoying the attention Auggie was giving her. “...Hm.”

“Hm?" She repeated, slipping on her undergarments and shirt. She knew she was running Auggie’s few, but something in that was exciting to her. Having some power, even if she, realistically, had none. “Something wrong?”

“Nah.” He said, “Just wondering how I got so lucky.” Arlo smiled and gave him her hand, which he took and kissed gently. “Seriously, what did I do to deserve you?” She smiled and looked down. 

“You’ll drive safe, right?” She asked. “Don’t do anything reckless? And you’ll come back.” She said. The last part wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement. You’ll come back. You won’t leave me. You’ll be back. 

“Course. Charlie and Howard would kill me if I didn’t.” He said, laughing. At the look on Arlo’s face, he knew this ran deeper. Her fear of abandonment was like a well-worn jacket, and she wore it well, most of the time. This time she just stared at him, the fear evident on her face. “Arlo, I swear. I’m gonna come back. I’ll call you when I get there, yeah?” She laughed, “And every day while I’m there.” Arlo nodded, content with the plan. She pulled on a skirt for the day. “Want me to walk you to class before I go?”

“Dressed like that?” She asked, looking at him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

“I thought you liked me without a shirt on?” 

“I do, but I like it.” She leaned over and kissed his head. Auggie hadn’t known Arlo had a jealous streak in her, but he grinned. 

“I’ll put a shirt on.”

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if anyone wants to play the game is send me a candela duo/trio/group (platonic or romantic) and a number from this list and I'll write it!

[saturnaous]

hi. your turn. what if you talked about your ocs teehee. stares at you with sparkly eyes

ooohhhh. ohhhhhhh. hooohoohooohhh. you messed up. you messed up big time. I'm on my computer now and you have to bare this hellstorm you brought up. hoohhhh

okay first we're going over Morble. because he's been on my mind lately teehee.

okay where are my pictures of him hold on. hold ond

marby mooby mamb. . .

okay so he's three years old now. I have to say that. I made him a few days before my birthday. it's horrible. we were similar ages now I'm OLD and he's also a lot older now but at the same time he's NOT. why are you in sixth grade still marbs. why.

anyways. He was made after another spurt of my enjoyment of The Weekly Roll on webtoon; it's a dungeons and dragons type webtoon, Morble is inspired by Sir Becket(he's now Lord Becket. good for you Becket). Becket's a Paladin, Morble's a Paladin. I dunno. It's neat.

that's not the neatest part about Morble though! You see. He's from a modernish dnd-like world. so uhm. basically he's kinda boring. besides being like an orphan or whatever. wait no before I move on to other bits I'm just gonna go in order of what happens.

Morble's basically just a little guy. he's just a fella. uh. he has a brother and HAD. two parents OH ACTULLY I RELALY LIKE HIS PARENTS HOLD ON I HAVE DRAWINGS OF THEM.

Katty and Mavrick. I like them a lot. these are them at maybe like early to mid twenties? around the time they got together(they went to the same highschool but met in collage and really connected at that point. they're so awesome together). they are SO neat to me.

Kat is a nice lady; she's like 6'1 and has a real hearty laugh. She's so sweet and so cool I love her so much. Mavrick is fucking deranged. He's an absolutely spunky ball of chaotic energy. He has no self preservation skill and is just an absolute goober. He's great. Everytime I imagine these two I just think of the rabbits with the "rabbit obsessed with his giant girlfriend who's 4x times his size" because he IS. They are looking at eachother thinking "I love my wife". Marvrick you are so wife. it doesn't help that he took her last name. Katty and Maverick Moor. . .

Kat was a firefighter for the longest time. Mav was a chaotic fencer and fence instructor. he's stupid with it though. His ass didn't like wearing protective gear half the time because of his confidence and lack of preservation skills. He died of a collapsed lung oneday when Morble was about nine.

teehee. mav's a little fabric guy tho. he knits. he sews. he embroiders. uhhhmmm. In that second image of Morble up here with the purple background! He's wearing a red cloak! Maverick made it for him and was gonna give it to him for his birthday. neat. obviously he couldn't. Kat gave it to him because. Well. Yeah.

Morble had a hard time with his dad being dead. I mean. what's a 9 year old supposed to do when your dad dies. it kinda sucks. Kat was going over some family history and going through some old heirlooms and stuff. The Moor's are from a pretty long line of Paladins spanding at least 500 years back(heehoo. hold onto that information). Turns out! There's also a great helm made by one of these Paladins from 500 years ago. Katty pulled it out of storage or whatever and gave it to Morble because he thought he might like it. Because it's neat. Morble loved it. literally has never taken it off.

A couple months after Mav died, Kat died while on the job. kinda fucked up. It's totally my fault for that but. Morble doesn't have to know that. But sucks for him. his brother too but he's a 4yo he doesn't really. know what's happening. but still sucks.

Morble and his brother move in with their grandma and stepgrandma. I don't have anything on them. but yeah.

Fastforward when Morble's 12. bc they had to move they're in a new school and stuff. nobody knows about dead parents or any symbolism in anything. yeah. he's kinda bullied but he just kinda shrugs it off. he's not that kind of guy.

anyways. now we're getting tot he fun parts. Morble walks from school to his grandma's apartment. there's a neat little field kinda inbetween the walk. onepoint Morble noticed a little glimmer near one of the super old trees over there. dunno how he caught it but he did(plot reasonings are why). anwyays.

morble goes over. turns out it's a neat little ring. he grabs it.

BOOM. he fucked up. the ring is magic. he gets swallowed up into some weird current thing the only way I've thought about what it's like is. basically imagine the sky is a giant fuckingthing of water and you can't breathe. it feels like drowning.

once he gets oout of it and recovers from the drowning feeling or whatever. he's like. where the hell am I. Because it's completely different from where he just was. which was like a dewy day or whatever. right now he's in super tall fields with grass and shit.

well. heehoo. yk how I said paladins go back about 500 years in his family? well. heehoo. heehoo. guess what.

Magic ring was really fucking magic and wahoo! Time traveling. I know. Wild. I don't know what I was thinking when I made him do that but it's integral to his character now so I can't change it.

Turns out. there's a little Party down a head from the road he got spat out right next to. turns out. hoo boy. The paladin in the party is an ancestor of Morble's. Got the same helm and everything. turns out he's the guy who MADE the helm actually. His name is Hearth. Hearth Moor. he's pretty cool.

about. uhhh. I dunno maybe 10 years go by? yeah Morble basically gets situated to being 500 years offset from his actual timeline. he's been looking for a way to get back for the entire time but. there hasn't been much luck. so he's just chillin.

he's 22 at this point. He sticks with Hearth and the whole party which I only vaugely got. then they go to fight a red dragon for some reason. no biggie.

hearth fucking gets clobbered and dies. which sucks. they retreat. then morble has the bright idea of well. I'm gonna go fight this dragon myself and WIN. avenge him or whatever. like an idiot. you remember how your dad died, right, morby? you little fucker.

anyways.he goes and fights this dragon. and somehow! for whatever reason! motherfucker wins. chops off his head and brings it back into town. he almost died tho. bro's bleeding like all hell. so yeah he has to spend some time being not fucking dead.

okay you know how I did that serval vs brown tabby poll yesterday. well. that was on our next character, Coraline.

coraline. the baddie. she's so cool.

she's a serval now btw. the poll said so and I was digigng the design more than the brown tabby. anyways.

She's a bard! She's working at the tavern the party was staying at. She basically became Morble's nurse because. because. she'd sing him songs and shit. Her voice claim is actually. uhhhhhhh. The son Rich by Cosmo Sheldrake and the other person that worked on it. yeah.

Coraline joins the party whenever they get back on their feet. The Tavern keeps the dragons head because Morble said they could. They go from 'The Hollow Tavern' to 'The Hollow Dragon's Tavern'. p neat.

uh. yeah. Next two years Coraline and Morble get kinda close. they like eachother but Morble's fucking stupid. he's a shy little himbo. what a goober.

that's basically all I got on canon for him tbh. I like to twirl him around in my head. I have one pathway where Marby finds a way to go back to his timeline. when he's 12. he was missing for about two months tho. 12 years turned into 12 weeks. yeah. sucked for everyone around them. but mostly morble because he's now 24 in a scrawny 12 yearold's body and going to 6thgrade classes. and everybody thinks he's 12 and doesn't know where he's been for like two months and he won't tell anyone because nobody would believe him if he shrugged and said Yeahhh I picked up a magic ring and I was stuck 500 years ago for 12 years! No biggie!! yeah. Morble just kinda goes about like tho after that and becomes a highschool history teacher and works at the local museum. he's really neat. He also is super funky when it comes to his classroom decorations because he has a wall of swords and an entire replica of the suit of heavy armor he used to wear. he's also deranged and under his clothes and leather jacket he has like. jackchains, chainmail(lining his jacket), greaves, and. I think something else but I forgot what. he's wild. I just really like to put him in the salad spinner of my head and think about him with things teehee. twirls hair kicks feet.

yeah. you fucked up with this ask tho. I have more. I'm talking about Harry now. maybe Kinglen if I feel like it. let me get my things fo harry.

this be harry. harry hearthorn. I'm obsessed with him. he's so fucking funny. you'll have to excuse the things of Alphonse and stuff in that last one. I'm gonna be using. him for dnd <3

I love Harry. He's from a military type country or whatever. it's. it's not the best. they're like. I don't know how to describe it. think of amestris but less "we wanna take over the world" and more "we like war and we want more" or whatever. you understand. it's a weird one.

there's like three main branches of jobs. military, research and development slash the sciences, and basically 'entertainment'. entertainers are literally just everything that doesn't fall into the other catagories. these are like artists and show runners and broadcasters and radio hosts and other things of the sort.

school works in this place by being 12 years just like 'merican schools(EAGLE SCREECH GUNSHOTS FIREWORKS). but the first 8 you are just doing general stuff. the 9 and 10th are for pinning down what branch you're going into. and 11 and 12 are getting experience in your field. this is mainly getting mentorships and other stuff, witht he execption of the military branch

Military only has one place to go. If you're going into the military at 16, you're goign STRAIGHT To tht emilitary at 16.

Harry's mom was in the R&D branch, Harry's dad was in the military. they met at a bar. they're funny. both bisexual which is REALLY funny because Harriet is ALSO bisexual and Harry is bicurious-aspec. harry's mom is 6'1 btw. Harry's 6'5. justlittle stuff. I think I named her Maria. his dad is named Henry.

anyways. Harry and Harriet., they are siblings. Harriet is two years older than Harry. though it's funny bc their full names are Harrison and Harriet. but. Harriet is Harry. And Harrison is Harriet. they had a sense of humor.

ATM harry is 31. Harriet is 33 and a senior broadcaster at one of the shownetworks or whatever. Maria is retired. Henry died while on duty when Harry and Harriet were lke 12 and 14.

anyways. Harry wanted to go into the science or military branches. like his parents. His scores were leaning more to being althetic and shit so he got put into the military. he's been there like. ever since. he barely goes home bc he feels no need and because there's an active war(a really long one. . . neither side will stop. . . they really like war) and he just. didn't feel the need. but they forced him to go home a few times when he got like. shot and stabbed and stuff. yeah he's a g like that. did I mention he's a first lieutenant btw. he's a first lieutenant bc I said so.

anyways. his downfall is when onetime. after making a bad call sends the part of his platoon he's with through a part of whereever they are. one fo the younger guys. steps on a landmine. out of like, 14 soliders, only three of them survive. harry, someone else who was closer to the mine, and a younger one that was farther away and practically unscathed. Harry lost his leg and most of his hearing in his right ear and all of it in his left. teehee

anyways. after his main amount of recovery. he's still in the military but they don't put him on any active duty despite him BEGGING for it. because of the PTSD mainly and because he's depressed as fuck secondarly. yeah. basically it sucks for him really bad. he gets put on staff duty indefinetly. also I have to mention Harry fucks. severially. I mentioned that he's aspec. like. arospec. he is not acespec. he fucks.

anyways. basically he's depressed as fuck because. he accidently killed a bunch of guys and ptsd is kicking his ass. he tries to drink his worries away and doesn't care about what kind of trouble he gets into with the drinking and getting caught with girls and stuff. he gets put onto suicide watch after an incident with a lower ranking guy. yeah.

at that point they decide the best option is to just. give him an honorable discharge. so they do that. Harry has to move in with his mom and sister. he does that. everything sucks for him. yeah

at some point after his birthday he decides well. this fucking sucks. I hate this. I'm leaving. he grabs like his old uniform, and money, and a pack, and a pack of smokes and just. hitchhikes. out of the country. without fucking telling anyone. he calls Harriet and his mom after he's out of the country like "heyyy. I'm. I'm out west or whatever. gonna. figure something out here." and they're like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MAN. WHAT THE HELL. but he writes them letters and calls them ebcause they can't really do jack about it. yeah

so. basically he's just hitchhiking till he gets to another country. which he does and then basically he tried to do some freelance work or something. then he finds a little group who are gonna basically take down the government. I dunno that's where the campaign is gonna start methinks. Harry might get himself a funny little dragonborn boyfriend. yeah. okay I have to shower and. actually do stuff teehee I rolls out of bed and went straight to my puter to talk about these guys. so teehe. I'm so hungry I need water.

OH OH HOLD ON. uhhmmm here's old art of morble. spannign from 3 years ago to a couple months ago. teehee

neat. the third one is the very very VERY first thing I did of him ever in existance. second one is one I did and the first one is a redraw from months later. the last one is me just doodling him months ago and pinning down his design again. I changed his helm bc it made no sense.

OKAY I’M GOING I’M GOING FALLS TO THE FLOOR AND ROLLS AWAY LIKE A LOG

[every-character-ever-poll]

LARA CROFT - Tomb Raider (Survivor Timeline)

PROPAGANDA:

Lara Croft from survivor timeline is a reboot version of character that was explored in the game trilogy in 2013-2019 (last dlc for the last game) and novel & comic series. Compared to previous two versions, her backstory and personality were rewritten to offer new,fresh take on a character and make her more relatable/acceptable for the modernish audience. In the games she appears in her early 20s (21 y.o in the first). Through the course of the games she's put into dangerous situations where's she forced to fight to survive. She learned archaeology of the asian field and even though the name suggest tomb raiding, it doesn't focus on it as much as the previous titles. She's in the formative years of her career and was focused on getting more skills & knowledge instead. In the novel it's mentioned that she visits therapy, has anxiety disorder/anxiety attacks and possibly ptsd (it's was questioned in the source). She experiences nightmares/various flashbacks that are tied to her triggers. TR is not the best at exploring mental struggles in the games themselves, one of the reasons is backlash for portraying characters as "weak" and trying to play it safe. They did kept small mentions of her visiting therapy or some things in her mannerism/character that may suggest some struggles (flinching because of lighting bolts, putting herself in a danger to compensate survivor guilt, having nightmares/flashbacks etc) This part is really important for me and i hope for the future where protags could express struggles on the screen without stigma or being labeled as weak by gamers or critics.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Corrupted, Chapter Four: Watched - a Malevolent x TMA fic

Tim's been treading, head above water, for a while now. He had hoped to find help.

That’s not really what the Magnus Institute does.

AO3

——-

Tim leaves early.

Navigating empty streets at night is one thing. This is heading into west London right at the beginning of the work day, and he will take no chances. Beyond all the ones he can’t avoid, anyway.

John’s navigation, however, is flawless. Slow down a little. Good. The step is higher than that—good.

On the bus without incident. Amazing.

And then it’s very weird, because Tim is used to scrolling his phone on public transit, and he obviously can’t do that now—but it gives him an idea. He rummages in his backpack.

What are you doing? John sounds curious.

Tim finds what he’s searching for by feel. “Ah, ha!” he says, and uncoils a white cord with earbuds. “There,” he says, plugging into his phone. “Thank you, Past Tim, Pack-Rat Extraordinaire. Now I can talk without looking crazy. Just on the phone, ma’am, nothing to see here.”

Very smart, John says. I’m impressed.

“Modern technology, eh?” says Tim. “Modernish, anyway. Speaking of which, you don’t seem to be struggling very hard with things like cell phones and rideshares. You’d been here before. Recently.”

Have I? Tim, there are so many worlds, so many timelines, so many dimensions. I’ve seen technology you would never believe—and magic that made it all irrelevant.

What an answer. “And you’re humble about it, too,” Tim says. “Also, you’re deflecting. You know movie titles. Not that Tim Curry doesn’t deserve multiverse fame, but you knew who that was.”

Such a clever man, John purrs, and Tim shifts in his seat, unwillingly affected. I see I will have to watch what I say around you.

“Deflecting. Again. Anyway, I’ve been thinking,” he murmurs, facing the window. “You must be kind of rare, whatever you are. If the world were full of things like you, I’m pretty sure I’d know.”

Really. 

Amused. That’s that tone. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t everybody?”

Because for most of us, it’s far more entertaining and useful when humans don’t know what’s watching them from the shadows.

“Okay, so that’s really ominous,” says Tim. “Worse than ‘a being.’ Positively malevolent. Still not gonna tell me what you are?”

No.

Tim sighs. “So. Anything interesting out the window?”

Quite a lot, actually. And John proceeds to describe what he sees.

Tim would absolutely have bought the audio with this guy narrating London for tourists.

John manages to make ordinary shops and red mailboxes interesting. He describes people Tim knows he would never have even noticed on his own. He manages to make London feel like a thriving, vividly energetic throng, a place of potential, not just a crowded, expensive place to work.

It almost feels like part of a life worth living. Maybe it’s time to face the fact that he has no plans. The house selling is great, but he is going to need another job—and yeah, Nigel is probably not going to give him a recommendation.

Tim should care about that more than he does.

You’re drifting, says John.

“Sorry. Just… trying to think about things. Future. Employment. All those boring human details.”

I see. What are you thinking?

“You actually want to know?”

I do, Tim.

Tim slouches comfortably, sliding low in his seat. “Sure. Well, I worked in publishing. I’m a really good editor. But… I don’t know anymore.”

Looking for a change?

“Needing one, honestly.” He swallows around the tightness in his throat. “I was thinking about when I quit, and nobody… nobody really cared. I haven’t been happy for a while, you know? And they say you’re not supposed to make any major changes like quitting your job or selling your house or getting married for a year after bereavement, but, uh. I’m two for three, and it hasn’t even been a month.”

I see. You feel the need to keep moving, John observes, low. The type of creature which, if it ceases swimming, will drown.

Tim shivers. “Wow. Never been called whatever that is before.”

A shark. This is our stop.

Tim laughs. “Shark? I am so not a shark.” Somehow, he manages to exit the bus without running into anyone or banging his head, and exhales in relief. “Right. Which way?”

I’m not sure. There are a lot of old buildings here, but not much signage. Walk forward. More to your left.

It’s like a trust game, Tim thinks. Like something to do with your brother one boring summer afternoon, one of you blindfolded and the other giving directions and accidentally-on-purpose steering you into things.

Sure. That makes it less scary. Right.

Ha! There we go. I see a small, brass sign that says, MAGNUS INSTITUTE 1818. Perfect. And—oh, Tim.

“What?”

This is a place of power. The way John says that… deeper, richer, absolutely eager.

Tim shivers. “Power? What kind of power? Is that good?”

Perhaps. I’ve never had trouble with this particular Power. I believe I am safe.

“You sure you’re as anonymous as you think?”

The moment you made that phone call, Tim, you bet both our lives. If I thought this were truly a danger, I would have said so.

“Sure, put it on me,” he mutters. “How far?”

Stairs starting… now.

There are more stairs than Tim expected. They’re wide and shallow, just a little awkward to climb. “Does it look spooky?”

It’s a temple, John breathes. Oh… I knew it was old, but I didn’t expect this. The one worshiped here has been worshiped here for a long time. Door.

Tim feels for the handle, tugs. Of course, it’s still locked. “Guess we’ll just have to loiter for a bit. You know, in front of the scary pagan temple in the middle of London. What time does my phone say?”

Seven. We’re an hour early. Heh. And pagan doesn’t cover it.

“Sure. Well, better early than—”

“Excuse me, can I help you?” comes a posh baritone.

Tim, there’s a… oh. 

Tim wonders what that oh was for. “Hi. I, uh. I need to see someone inside. Kind of an emergency.”

The posh man huffs, like an irritated cat. “Well, we don’t… this is a place of research, so I’m not sure what you expect in an emergency.”

He’s a slight person, shorter than you, much narrower. Brown skin; I’d think mixed South Asian ancestry. He’s slightly overdressed for the weather; shirt, vest, sweater over that. He’s managing to look down his nose at you in spite of his height. But Tim… he’s been claimed, branded by the thing that calls this its base of power, in a messy, undisciplined way. I don’t understand what I’m seeing. It’s like he’s accidentally a priest.

So that’s the oh. Tim wonders how the hell one can accidentally be a priest. “Well, I need to, uh. What was it the website said? Give my statement?”

There is an irritated sigh. “Well, you might as well come in. I can at least give you a place to wait until Gertrude arrives—ah, Ms. Robinson, the head Archivist.” The voice is moving away, accompanied by the sound of keys. “I’m Jonathan Sims. In research.”

“Tim Stoker. In trouble.” 

He hunched when you said that. I believe he feels more for our emergency than he wants to let on. 

“Sorry to hear that,” researcher-Jon mutters. “But as I said, I’m not sure what we can do. Police?”

“Not for this, mate. But thanks, anyway.”

Correct to the left a bit. He’s holding the door for you. Ahead of us is an enormous, open lobby with old marble and dark wood. It’s beautiful, elegant. I see no furniture or anything else to trip you. To the left and right are the stacks going out of sight in the gloom. Clearly, at least part of this building is a library.

Their footsteps echo. It smells like books.

“What’s your statement regarding?” drawls researcher-Jon, audibly trying to be polite.

“A horrible book that ruined my life,” says Tim.

He’s stopped walking and is staring at you, abruptly pale, the arrogance dropped away like a mask. Oh, you’ve got his attention now. 

“What?” says researcher-Jon. “What did you say? A book?”

“Yeah.”

“Did it have… a bookplate in front?” says researcher-Jon.

Tim can feel himself going pale, too. “Yeah. It said, ‘The Library of Jurgen Leitner.’”

“Oh, gods,” says researcher-Jon. “You… you’ve…”

He looks afraid, Tim, and—oh!

Those oh exclamations were, Tim was beginning to realize, far more important than any casual fuck or damn.

“Jon?” comes another voice, posh, somehow managerial. “Well, I’m used to you being here early, but who’s your…” The voice stops.

Oh!

Tim is about ready to strangle something over those oh’s.

“Elias, he’s touched a Leitner,” says researcher-Jon.

“I understand. I’ll handle this one,” says the man.

“I was going to make sure Gertrude—”

“Jon,” says the man, in a quiet, uncompromising tone. “I will handle this. Go on, now.”

“All right, all right. Good luck, Tim.” Researcher-Jon sounds like he means it, and he leaves, Oxfords clacking away.

“Thanks,” Tim calls after him.

Tim, this has to be the high priest of this place. Its power, its marking, is all over him.

“Elias Bouchard.” There’s a pause. 

He’s holding out his hand. He’s a couple decades older than you. Expensive suit. Handsome in a boring sort of way. And he’s powerful. Oh, Tim, he’s powerful. 

“The head honcho, eh?” says Tim, and reaches.

The handshake is firm and not spooky, so that much is good.

“Can you navigate?” says Bouchard.

“What?” says Tim.

And Bouchard’s voice is low. “I can clearly see that whatever… that is inside you has done something to your eyes—which is to say, you are blind. Do you wish for guidance to my office? I completely understand if you’re more comfortable making your own way.”

He… can see me? John sounds stunned.

“You see him?” says Tim in a small voice.

“I do. He’s… my, my, my.”

He’s not supposed to be able to see me, John says with a slight tremor.

Tim’s not feeling fear. Relief and shock and desperation rise up his throat like vomit, and he has to swallow emotions down before he can talk. He is not insane. External validation. His eyes leak, and he wipes them. “Can you help? This happened last night. You can see him. What’s—”

“Good morning, Mister Bouchard!” comes a cheerful tenor. 

A tall, overweight man, surprisingly light on his toes, with bright red hair and a charming smile.

“Martin, good morning,” says Bouchard. “Mister Stoker, was it? Please come with me. We’d best deal with this in my office.”

Tim, you didn’t tell him your name.

True. And unnerving. “Okay,” Tim says, wary. “How’d you know my name?”

“Your passenger is not all I can see. Come along, please.”

Well. John had said they’d read his mind here.

I’m familiar with avatars of this particular Power, but this is an unusual level of skill. Be cautious.

Great! “Well, that simplifies things, right? At least I’ll be believed,” says Tim with cheer he does not feel.

“Refreshingly pragmatic,” says Bouchard. 

Yeah, this was lovely.

Follow the sound of his shoes. We’re passing a secretary’s desk. His office is straight ahead. Tim, this man’s body isn’t as old as he is. He’s confusing to look at.

“What’s that mean?”

Bouchard ignores Tim’s mutters. “Here we are.”

The sound of a door closing behind Tim feels… weird. Very weird. He feels stared at. Ganged up on? Prickly, like he has to defend himself, or—

“Please, Mister Stoker, have a seat.”

Tim feels for the chair. “Do you think you can help us?”

There is a pause. 

He’s seated at the desk. His hands are folded, and his gaze is… intense. 

“Well, can you blame me?” says Bouchard. “You are truly magnificent.”

Tim is confused for the moment it takes him to realize who was just addressed.

John gasps. You can hear me?

“Yes. I simply had to… adjust a few details. Tilt the radar dish, play with the bunny-ears—ah, but you’re too young for those references, aren’t you, Mister Stoker?”

And Tim can feel two very distinct things.

One: John is afraid. Being seen and heard has shaken him; finding out why is definitely going to come up after this.

Two: Tim knows he’s being subtly mocked. The weird, watched sensation has grown, making him feel judged, and he really, really wants to make it stop. “I’m not a kid, for crying out loud. I know what a television antenna is.”

If you can hear me, then I highly suggest you stop siphoning him, John growls.

“What?” Tim blurts.

“My apologies,” Bouchard sounds positively silky. “My patron craves your fear. Can I get you some tea?”

Tim is frozen. “My fear?”

John growls. Full-on growls, and it is not remotely a human sound, and it is huge, and absolutely frightening. Back. Off.

“I’m afraid I have no such control over it,” says Bouchard, standing. “The Eye doesn’t have much in the way of personality—only hunger. However, if Mister Stoker does manage to calm down, the Eye will have no use for him. He’ll practically be invisible to it.”

“The Eye? What? Like a giant eyeball?” Tim stammers.

“Quite. I’ll be back with that tea. Take a moment, will you? Breathe deeply. You’ll be just fine.”

Bouchard leaves, and Tim resists the urge to wipe himself down as if the man’s words had been coated in oil. “It’s a big eyeball god?” he says.

Something like that. What we are dealing with is a Power—an Entity that lives on fear.

“What the fucking hell?” 

You need to calm the fuck down.

“Oh, sure, I’ll just hit the calm the fuck down button,” says Tim. “Maybe I should’ve asked for something stronger than tea.”

John sighs. Then he flips that smooth, warm, absolutely devastating voice into action.You’re going to be all right. He told you what to do to avoid his Power’s hunger. Just take a minute, and breathe with me, all right? In. Out. Slower.

Fucking dom, Tim thinks, but does it. “This place is actually trying to making me feel watched, isn’t it?”

I believe so. But you’re handling it like a champ. In. Out. There, you see? That wasn’t so hard.

It does feel better. “No, I guess not.”

I told you—you can trust me, Tim.

Tim snorts. “Opportunist.”

Bouchard returns. “Hold out your hand.” 

Tim finds himself with a cup of tea. He closes his eyes, sipping. “Thanks. That makes me feel human again.”

“Of course. Now. Why don’t you tell me what happened last night?”

His fingers are steepled. He’s watching us without blinking. 

“Spooky,” says Tim before he can help himself.

Bouchard laughs lightly. “I serve a patron that feeds on fear. I’m afraid that whatever else I offer, comfort will not be on the menu.”

Tim’s heart sinks. “But… can you help?”

“Let’s find out. What happened?”

Tim takes out the book.

Careful,  John warns. Open that, and it will again send out a— oh. He’s leaning away from it. Tim, he looks terrified.

“Well,” says Bouchard. “That is… ah..”

Tim already hates touching this thing. It may be psychosomatic, but now it feels terrible, greasy, like living skin. “What? What do you see?”

“I am going to make a guess,” says Bouchard slowly. “The passenger in your head was in this book first. Yes?”

“Yes,” says Tim.

“There is something else in that book. I would heavily advise you not to open it again.”

What? What? There is no other being in this book.

“I assure you, there is,” says Bouchard.

Impossible, John says as if offended.

“I assure you, it is not,” says Bouchard.

“So what do I do?” says Tim. “There’s got to be something I can do.”

And though he cannot see Bouchard looking at him, Tim suddenly feels pinned. Feels very distinctly like this man just reached into his brain and peeled it open, revealing everything he is.

John growls again.

“I will be frank,” says Bouchard. “I do not yet have an answer, but I believe I can find one. I have at my disposal quite a lot of knowledge, as well as some truly interesting contacts. I am willing to leverage all of that to help you in exchange for the freedom to watch how it all pans out.“

Tim’s not sure what that means. “What do you mean, watch how it all pans out?”

His eyes lidded just at the thought.

“I will give you much more than aid. I will give you answer. Any I find.”

Tempting. “You must really like to watch, eh?” Tim says, trying not to make it sound sexual.

“You have no idea,” Bouchard says, not trying to avoid that at all. “I’ve never seen the like. A new thing, to my patron, is the highest form of offering, and I am quite eager to help you. You rather have me over the proverbial barrel, Mister Stoker.”

He’s leaning back again, considering us. His fingers are still steepled. It’s a thoughtful look, pensive, as if he’s weighing something.

“You are in need of a job,” he says.

Spooky mind-reading confirmed! Tim thinks, slightly panicked. “I... will in time, sure.”

“I could employ you.”

Tim snorts. “No offense, but this place feels really weird.”

“It does, yes—but it’s also very safe.”

“Not according to every nerve in my body,” says Tim.

“The paranoia and fear are side effects of proximity to the Ceaseless Watcher. They are not representative of actual danger,” says Bouchard. “Working here would grant you some… protections, as well.”

“I don’t know quite how we got to offering my CV to a fear-god, but no thanks?” says Tim. “Got at least a few months before I’m that desperate, I think.”

“And do you plan to remain occupied that long?” says Bouchard.

Tim goes silent.

Can you help or not? I want something definitive. Your god is impressive, but this man is mine, and if you think I’m going to share—

“Hold the fuck on!” says Tim. “What?” 

Bouchard laughs. “It’s all right. Mister Stoker. I’m fairly sure he’s just responding to the invasiveness of my patron—for which I do apologize. Do you have a safe place to stay?”

“Sure?” says Tim, still fighting against the absolute certainty of being watched, against the weirdness of his desire to rage in response.

“Would you be willing to leave that book with me?”

Absolutely not.

“But what if he can see inside it without opening it, or something?” says Tim.

No .

That growl is really something. 

Tim takes a deep breath. “Hey. What does John look like?”

John has no body of his own to stiffen, but Tim feels him do it, anyway.

“Well,” says Bouchard, eyes lidding. “I see him in two ways. First is an impression—I suspect his own of himself. Whispers of the form he once had; catastrophically beautiful, like a terrible storm. Darker than mere absence of light, as if he might absorb it. There is gold throughout—I can’t quite make out the shape, but it is a very specific and almost harsh yellow. He seems to have… how shall I put this… the essence of a body that simply is not human. Multiple limbs, perhaps tentacles. Enormous horns or antlers, casting spined shadows. And I think he was quite large. All of that, however, is echo. What do I see when I look at him? The reverse of a flame. Dark, and hungry; fluttering and flickering like conflagration dancing in the wind, and significantly more dangerous than he seems. Given the right fuel, I daresay he could burn the world.”

Tim is silent.

John is silent.

“Wow,” says Tim.

There is a fabric rustle, and Tim suspects Bouchard has shrugged as if to say, Well, there it is.

“You really see all that?” said Tim.

“I do.”

“What the hell is he?”

“I have absolutely no idea. You’re very lucky. Whatever you're experiencing may have no precedent in this world.”

John is still silent.

Tim sighs. “So… what now?”

“Well, I suggest food that is not peanut butter? And keeping your head down. If you truly wish to keep the book, I think there may be a target on you. I can’t offer you protection outside my place of power.”

Tim snorts. “Well, unless you’ve secretly got an apartment complex in here, it wouldn’t do me much good, anyway.”

“Actually, we do, in a way.”

“What?”

“My employees are… hard-working. Part of the archive below has been converted. There is a small sleeping area, a washroom, a very minimal kitchenette. Should things grow desperate, you have my permission to kip there, as it were.”

“You really want to watch all this, don’t you?” says Tim.

“Indeed I do. And while I readily confess I will be watching anyway, doing so with your permission and awareness makes it all so much more delicious. Is there anything else?”

At least he’s honest about being creepy, Tim thinks, because that’s all he can think. “Not until you have a solution.”

“Not yet.”

“And my offer?”

This has to be a them, not a him. “John?”

I need to think.

“Fair enough.” There’s the sound of a chair rolling back.

He’s standing. 

Tim stands, too. He doesn’t know what to do. This hadn’t gone at all how he’d hoped.

“I’m sure it’ll all work out,” says Bouchard with a sort of dark glee.

“Right,” says Tim. “Thanks, I… guess.”

“Here. I do hope you change your minds.”

He’s holding out a business card.

Tim takes it on automatic. 

It sounds like Bouchard opens the door.

Tim walks out.

#

With every step, his heart feels heavier.

He’d been so sure solutions would be here. Immediate ones. Telling himself that had kept him going all morning. But now…

There wasn’t help. There was the possibility of help, with the cost of loss of privacy—which he might have lost anyway, just by coming here.

None of this feels good. Tim sighs, fishing for his earbuds.

Someone gasps.

Tim, there’s an old woman looking at us. She… something about her is very dangerous. Something about her… Tim, I think she can see me. Fuck this place.

“Good for her,” mutters Tim, who has decided merely seeing John does not qualify one for anything. “Am I still going right?”

Yes. The door is three steps ahead.

“Leave it,” says Bouchard behind them.

Tim doesn’t think that was for him, and he feels for the door handle.

“Elias, you can’t be serious,” says the old woman’s voice—old but strong, frustrated.

What, had she been about to do something to them? 

Tim is sure of it. Sure of it, and doesn’t know why.

Hurry. Apparently, John is sure of it, too.

Tim hurries.

#

Stairs just ahead. Take your time.

Tim does, one step at a time, using the excuse of concentration to be silent. He wipes his leaky eyes.

Are you all right?

“No. Gonna have to be, though, apparently, because I don’t want to take his deal.”

I promise you, Bouchard will be watching us regardless of what we do; it’s the nature of the Power he serves. It only makes sense to benefit from it, given that we will pay either way.

“Well, fuck that guy, then,” says Tim. “I guess consent isn’t on some fear god’s radar.”

I don’t know why you ever thought it would be. You’ve reached the last step. Where now?

“I don’t know. I’m trying to think. Can I just walk somewhere? Get away from this place?”

Walk to your right. There isn’t much traffic. I may have an idea, but I need to… weigh the pros and cons.

“Right.” So Tim walks, and doesn’t speak again until he’s found a comfortable pace and position that seems to keep him from smashing into anyone.

It works better than Tim would have thought. John directs, corrects, and says nothing of substance.

Tim is deep in thought. A lot happened here.

He’s always thought of himself as deeply pragmatic. That means tackling this with an open mind, and organizing it in lists as quickly as possible, ready to absorb new rules. “So,” he says. “A few things.”

Hm? says John, sounding distracted.

“First, you were scared in there.”

Yes. At least John can admit that honestly. I know you’re new to this, so it may seem like nothing to you—but neither of those people should have been able to see me, much less hear me. I am deeply startled.

“Right,” said Tim. “And by saying that, you’re revealing you’ve done this so often that you have a ‘normal’ in your head, so that’s a whole thing.”

Not as often as you think. I’ve spent most of my time in this world in that book.

Tim’s not sure he believes that. “They didn’t recognize you, though.”

No. They did not, or I would have urged you to run like a cat on fire.

Tim smiles weakly. “Hell of an image. Look, what did you do that you have to hide from everyone? You said you’d tell me after.”

It isn’t so much what I’ve done, John says slowly. It is what I am. You were correct in that earlier assumption: I am… rare. Endangered, in fact.

Tim has a feeling John isn’t using that word casually. “So what are you?”

A being. Rare. Powerful, in my own right, though as you can tell by our current situation, I’ve been robbed of my body.

“Where is your body?”

In another plane of existence, friend. Quite out of reach, I’m afraid.

“Are you dead?” He has to ask.

No.

“Are you… what, a prisoner?”

Tim… I really don’t feel like answering these right now.

“Promise broken. I‘m keeping track,” says Tim, but only half means it. “So there’s you, antlered-tentacled-whatever-the-fuck. There’s fear-gods.There’s accidental priests. So… are there good fairies, or something? Wishing wells? Forest spirits of mercy, or kindness, or whatever?”

No. The lack of hesitation is upsetting. There are no beneficent fairies. No good and kind spirits waiting to freely give of themselves to mortals in need. Everything that exists only does so because it has not been eaten or used by something else, including yourself—from your immune system to your choices, you also fight to survive. 

This is different from John’s usual calming tone. It’s not crazy-smooth; it’s just quiet, and Tim suddenly feels like this is the first time John has been genuinely gentle with him.

Tim’s throat feels tight. “Bit of a downer, there,” he manages after a minute. “So what do we do?”

You truly don’t feel what he offered was worth what he asked?

“Just being in that building made me feel like hitting something, and that isn’t like me. I started to get angry, over, just… nothing. No. Whatever price I have to pay to get out of this, I’m not losing myself for it. That guy didn’t even have a solution, anyway. Just a what-if. Not worth it.”

Yes… yes. John sounds thoughtful . That’s a good way of looking at it. The cost cannot be one’s self. 

Tim isn’t done. “And just so you know, John? Maybe I am surviving , like everybody else here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make choices and be a good person and help other mortals in need.”

Seeing yourself as the hero, are you?

Tim snorts. ”No. I’d be a cheerfully bisexual bard, at best. I just mean… I don’t know. You make every living thing sound like an asshole, and I don’t think all of us are.”

John chuckles. A slutty bard? Really?

“It’s a DND ref- wait. You understood that?”

Yes. I’m familiar with the trope. I’m merely amused you used it.

“That has some implications, holy shit. How the hell are you familiar with an internet meme? How much time have you spent here?”

Not everyone who kept this book was only a cultist. Some of them were nerds.

Tim is flabbergasted. “What, did they just keep you on the table while scrolling through The Adventure Zone?”

Sometimes.

This doesn’t feel like the full truth. There’s something else John is not saying here, but Tim doesn’t know how to get at it. “I can talk to you in memes,” he says instead. “I’m going to be insufferable.”

John chuckles. Ah… I do like you, Tim.

That sounded regretful? Odd. Why would he… 

Or maybe Tim just feels paranoid thanks to whatever the hell that place was. “How does anyone even manage to work there without all becoming axe murderers?” he mutters.

I believe if you are inclined toward the type of fear and information-gathering that god prefers, it grants some sanity so you can keep feeding it. I’ve seen the like.

“A whole fear-god economy. Fuck me, that’s wild.”

Indeed.

“And by the way—what was all that ‘mine’ stuff about?”

John sighs. I apologize. I could feel the Power feeding on you, and I thought perhaps it would respect some kind of… prior claim. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“So you’re not a lot familiar with that thing.”

No. Enough to know that one isn’t much of a danger to me—but others like it must be avoided.

“Did one of those fear-gods send the monsters to my parents’ house?”

Yes.

Tim laughs weakly. “Wow. So they’re actively after you. Fuck. John, you’ve got to have a better idea what to do.”

I have an idea, if you’re willing to try it—but first, you need to eat. Your physical form has needs; Bouchard was right about that. Man shall not live by peanut butter alone.

It is deeply unnerving to hear all these deeply human references used with such familiarity. “I don’t want to try dealing with a restaurant. Find me a take-out place.”

Keep going. I’ll get you there.

He couldn’t believe himself anymore. A tiny part of him is beginning to wonder if, somehow, his family might be cursed.

It’s going to be okay, Tim tells himself on repeat. It’s going to be okay. 

———-

NOTES:

Do I hear that description of the King in Ben Meredith’s voice? Yes. Yes, I do.

[elancholia]

Honestly, it's a pity that astrology is so toxic, because the aesthetics of it kick ass. An effortless combination of seasonal, astronomical, and mathematical vibes with an undercoat of ancientness/early modernishness.

[rebelrobin86]

8. Your Ronance Anthem

(Robin)

Ho Hey - The Lumineers

(Modernish day AU - set in 2012, when the song was released. Nancy and Robin in their early twenties, both aged over 21 so can legally drink in bars.)

Robin sitting on an uncomfortable bar stool, holding a drink, looks at Nancy.

"Can we please go? I know you wanted to stop here, but I have to go see Jonathan and talk to him about our relationship."

"No, you don't. He lied to you again. You were right to be angry. You shouldn't feel bad for yelling and breaking up with him."

"I don't know."

Robin excitedly bounced off the bar stool, trying not to give away the surprise. Nancy also got down from her stool.

Robin confidently went to the performance area and took their microphone. Nancy was shocked, Robin couldn't resist giggling.

"What are you doing?!" 

"Nancy, this is for you."

Robin held the mic in one hand, then took a deep breath, before she started singing.

"I've been trying to do it right, I've been living a lonely life. I've been sleeping here instead, I've been sleeping in my bed, I've been sleeping in my bed."

Robin wanted to look at Nancy, but was too nervous so couldn't, just hoping Nancy was surprised and liked the performance.

"So show me family, all the blood that I will bleed. I don't know where I belong, I don't know where I went wrong, but I can write a song."

Robin finally looked at Nancy, feeling hopeful after seeing her smile.

Nancy's smile was contagious, Robin couldn't stop smiling while singing. Nancy hadn't heard Robin sing before, so this was a special way to confess their feelings.

"I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart! I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweet."

Robin felt too hot, blushing bright red, the microphone slightly sweaty. Nancy deserved better than Jonathan, Robin wanted Nancy to know she loved her.

"I don't think you're right for him, I think of what it might've been. If we took a bus to Chinatown. I'd be standing on Canal and Bowery. She'd be standing next to me."

Nancy happily went to Robin. Robin smiled, gently swaying as she confidently took and held Nancy's hand. This moment went even better than Robin could possibly have imagined. Robin and Nancy danced together.

"I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart. I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart!"

Robin looks at Nancy, then at the audience applauding, after the performance.

"Thank you."

Robin awkwardly bows, still holding Nancy's hand, they leave the bar together.

When they're outside, Robin's heart was still racing, looking at Nancy.

"Robin, thank you. Your singing was amazing, you're amazing. Nobody has ever serenaded me before."

Nancy took Robin's other hand, their hands fit so perfectly in each others.

"Nancy?"

Nancy happily leaned in closer to Robin, as she stood on her toes to reach her partner's taller height.

Nancy then softly and slowly kissed Robin's lips. Robin felt like this must be a dream, not wanting this moment to end.

"I'll have to talk to Jonathan tomorrow, see if he still wants to be my friend."

"I meant what I sang, you know? I don't think you're right for him. You belong with me, you're my sweetheart."

"I know, I want to spend tonight with you."

"Me too."

[ao3robin215]

Amnesia [WIP]

m!Chrobin modernish (early 2000s) AU. ---- “We could ask for another copy.” Tharja said with the same cold voice. 

“We could.” Miriel nodded, “It would take some weeks to get here, it is a rare book, but I should be able to speed up the process.”

“Really? Oh, you would be doing us a solid, Miriel!” 

She pushed up her glasses again, “Seldom do I leave lost books unattended. Our collection must be as complete as possible for any curious minds to find everything they need. I will make sure to contact you when we have.”

“Thank you!” The stranger would take anything he could get his hands on.

“As to this book… It has a 10-year delay fee.”

Fee. Noun. A payment made to a professional or public body in exchange for services. Finally, that encyclopedia in his head was useful for something! The stranger buried his hand in his pocket and slammed down the two coins he had on the desk. 

Almost enough for five paper clips. 

His excitement was met with puzzled looks.

“Just… Charge it here.” Chrom handed Miriel a credit card.  ---- I started working on another, shorter fanfic. None of it is published on ao3 yet, but I wanted to share some awkward Robin being awkward.

[gwydpolls]

Time Travel Question 50: Early Modernish and Earlier 4

These Questions are the result of suggestions a the previous iteration.This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct earlier time grouping. In some cases a culture lasted a really long time and I grouped them by whether it was likely the later or earlier grouping made the most sense with the information I had. (Invention ofs tend to fall in an earlier grouping if it's still open. Ones that imply height of or just before something tend to get grouped later, but not always. Sometimes I'll split two different things from the same culture into different polls because they involve separate research goals or the like).

Please add new suggestions below if you have them for future consideration. All cultures and time periods welcome.

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Caught

by ConnieLingus42341569824653870123

Cait stays home from work. Vi decides to surprise her by coming home early. Cait’s caught in a compromising position. They banter, they flirt, and they do something about it.

Words: 4400, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 6 of League of Lesbians: Arcane: the Domesticity Arc

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Piltover's Finest, Caitvi, Violyn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, modernish - au, Arcane - Connie Lingus’s domesticity arc, Banter banter banter, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, mastubation, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Vibrators, suction vibrator, Lesbian Sex, Period Sex, No mention of blood though incase that would be a problem

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

[asbestieos]

You told me to tell you about Cowboys. This was your mistake. /lh

So long story short most cowboys weren't the white straight heretosexual icons that they're portrayed as in most modern-modernish media! Alot of them were poc, wanted criminals, and queer!

Also alot of them lived in small groups so both split costs and for compainionship as well as protection.

Alot of people confuse ranchers with cowboys, but the main difference is that the cowboys would be working for the ranchers herding their lifestock. Alot of them didn't even own the horses they were riding, which is sad but also really interesting considering the steriotypes of cowboys and their horses.

But yeah alot of cowboys were queer. They didn't nessicarily fit into what we'd traditionally consider gay or trans nowadays, but male partnerships were common although spoken about in hushed tones. Alot of them also weren't very gender conforming either, although I know less about that admittedly, but I'm planning on doing a big research project on this stuff later for school because we were given free range on topics and I want to write about cowboys <3

staring at you with my autistic eyes and taking notes!! actually i do know one thing about cowboys! friend anon used to tell me this abt them all the time way back when actually, but i think its something like the original ‘cowboys’ were latino herders called vaqueros? i forgot exactly what friend anon said fhfjfbfjf im silly but i think theyre similar to what you described as early cowboys :3

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

6.13.24 Thursday

1:19 am

Still, have windblow...

I feel bitterish... I feel self-pity... I have no adventure since 2007, I never grow again as a mature person... Now, I feel different... I feel self-pity that I can feel that there are some people who will just pull me down...

I wanna leave Cavite but I know I can't... I hate being replaced and I hate being always 2nd... There are some people who will always steal everything or anything that I want or love...

I badly need money and job... On June 30th tentatively probably the start of training class in Teleperformance Molino. Hoping coz I badly need money.

8:14 am

Still,have windblow...

Early in the morning... My soul floated on air,lifted by some energies... It is like chocolate but hoping for a progress and progress...Finding someone or knowing a wisdom from someone who can really lift me up...

I still feel fat,ugly and old... I'm thinking of money and job and my own life...Stuff that I wanna have like my Starbucks...

I'm drinking my first cup of coffee today.

8:31 am

It is just a thought that you have to give me everything, it was just a symbolism but not really pushing but I just need a lil lift LOVE...

As I was wanted to give myself purely...

My love for you will never fade... It is just that jealousy and situation and love, and we are on maze now... Will I be able to find you? Or I'm late...

9:01 pm

I love BoHo though I love "Glass House" but being BoHo is a wonderful HOME....

10:32 am

Got 1 piece of onion & half of whole of garlic...( from Aunt Karen )

Still,wanna do vanity and travels... I need to get a job and money...

Fakers windblow friends or enemies???

10:43 am

Hoping to recover this from that fucking Astron Rice Cooker...

10:59 am

Being defensive,Thank God it survive!

12 noon

There were 3 crazy securities on Ate Liza's carinderia'z as if talking about kicking someone on the chest,that I don't know them probably coming from "Church Of Christ"...

I was just getting food ordered by my Uncle Jun.. As if one of the securities guards wearing blue uniform. When I went back I asked Ate Liza who were those 3 securities, she said coming from Paceer of Marivic Velayo Alindog. WE ARE NOT THAT FRIENDS BUT SIMPLY ACQUAINTANCE...

I just knew her coz of some chaos here way back but Marivic is not really my friend. But I do respect her as elderly... Marivic is not really my friend but we became united coz of a particular situation. But we are not really friends! Just to clarify me and Marivic are not friends at all.. We just had a common point of view from the past years...But just to clarify we are not friends!

I'm just fair that her dead husband Mr Alindog was really in a way good person and I love the kids not for anything in this world... Mr Alindog was a policeman and in a way was taking good care of us or me here, when the time that he was still alive coz Marivic is a bit childish.

Uncle DD is telling me that he will put Neko inside their house,in a lil while...I wanted to buy Neko from him...

About the people of Marivic,there were some crazy people who thought that I was a child whenever I was with my son-dog coz of me becoming a child whenever I was out with my son-dog... Whenever we go out, John is really a puller...One of the reasons I always exercise for strength and to be fit! John is a puller dog and he is very,very strong...

1:02 pm

If I'm not exercising, I can't handle John coz he is very,very strong but he has this respect for me. I know he is very strong but he still listen to me in a way... So,his pull I know is still in control but with power... John can pull our heavy wooden tables here.....

2:04 pm

Still,have windblow...

This is an old boho but this is a cottage type... I want the modern boho ( the one I posted above ) but this old stylish boho is expensive as well coz you can find her decorations from "etsy.com" .

I love the barn door it is modernish feel there.The house is simple but super clean. I love the kitchen coz it is a bit modern coz of the kitchen appliances. Again, I want the sunlight even on its dim shady blurry sunlight ( takip-silim ) or the war of love and death. But here I want to put curtain to contrast the negative energy of too much ambience of war of love and death... Cottage fairy or the narrator looks like a ghost there or a dead person talking or ghost. I want some colorful curtains and some lights to make the house brighter and have a happy touch...

I just don't like putting too much of small decorations coz it is difficult to clean it. It is so good to have reading space, have some important books in the house. I like her shop it is expensive "etsy.com".

2:24 pm

This Cottage Fairy is more of like an audiobook but now with visual or picture... That's her style of vlogging... I remember having audiobook, way back... It was fun,you just need to listen and imagine the words that you are hearing or listening.

She is saying goodbye coz she will give birth in a lil while...

2:32 pm

Still,have windblow...

I remember "The Railway Children" by E.Nesbit this is a funny book/ or 1 of the audiobooks that we had... Daniel will understand about the scarf waving thingy but usually Lasalista knew it...

If you are a graduate from De La Salle you know that "scarf waving"... It is funny and sweetish and there is love as sisterhood or brotherhood or more of it...

2:59 pm

Drinking my 2nd cup of coffee....I wanna leave Cavite if I can just like my brother RV, who leaves the fakers Cavitenyos and Cavitenyas...Mostly I know not all, but mostly...

I still want a job until I can and I really wanna have a job for my self-esteem, I need money... I want some vanity... I feel so fat,ugly and old... I really wanna travel and buy a coffee machine and some new tumblers and mugs...

3:35 pm

This is my simple sweetish suggestion on Ely ( simply my friend ) ...I told him I will help him to renovate or make changes in their house though they are aging...

Even here in this house,our old house...But I feel frustrated, I don't have a job or fundings to buy a wall paper or wall sticker paint...

I feel frustrated... I feel hurt since 2007, I feel so small since the day I couldn't get a job... There are so many lacking in this house from cleaning materials to my herbs and spices and my teas and coffees in our kitchen, supposed to be...

I hope I was able to grab my cousin white from the past years... Why, is he married now???.

3:46 pm

French Style is also good...

3:54 pm

I feel bitterish and jealous... Scared of windblow and I'm in love with my cousin white.

I hate the trap here... Until I can find someone who is mature and I like and mature who can be with me as a mature person...

Incest... Incest...

I'm so fucking in-love with my cousin white... Why, why is he married???

4:12 pm

It is supposed to be US, my cousin white... Don't you know that I have a windblow and I can't get progress but then you are happy now with her....

Supposed to be Incest...with you my cousin white...

7:34 pm

Still,have windblow...

This bullshit DJ of Eagle... What the fuck is the black magic... What do you mean don't go far on North?

Stand-by Mark... Whereever you are...

I will get my cousin white,if he is here in the Philippines.

Fuck you DJ of Eagle,you can't get my cousin if you are just FilipiNOSE!

9:07 pm

Still,have windblow...

Here in Ely's house for some back-up and bonding for few minutes...

I feel bitterish... Why,why,why...

I feel jealous on things, that I don't know that I must know...

I hate these people in windblow ritual coz they are unfair for 17 years and some people here in Cavite are controlling my life unfairly...

9:37 pm

Hmm... hahah Ely told me he is drunk....Then, suddenly he texted me this "pa-kiss nga Pie" ( can I kiss you Pie )...

I told him there is rule in our friendship... When my credit reach 10k that's the time to sing but no kissing... I told him we are purely "buddy2x"...

I said let's preserve the boundaries of our friendship... Even on men there is a sudden situation that you need to help each other, that you just need to pact....You need to sing but no kissing coz we are "buddy2x", we are men that we are just helping each other...

9:52 pm

Then, I asked him about "Kuya Bentot" that probably he will get jealous of me.... I added that probably Kuya Bentot will get mad at me... I added that Kuya Bentot will not say it, if they don't have something...

I'm seeing his facial reaction Ely is somehow nervous,angels...

I said Ely I'm somehow scared of Kuya Bentot coz he really told me directly that he is jealous of me...

He is somehow nervous angels....Then, I went home coz it is near 10 pm... Here in my nest now...

10:28 pm

Still,have windblow...

Weird windblow... I can't meet my X on Kalibo coz of my situation, it will never be a good timing....He can just give assistance but seeing him again that I'm not ready, it is not a good timing. If my cousin is here, I will just choose my cousin white coz of the reason of this windblow is breaking my relationship with everyone apart, in an unfair ways...I will choose my cousin white over my X in Kalibo coz of the fact that they are complete and seeing each other... I mean I can sense an unfair movement coming from my X in Kalibo,Aklan with his family.

I hate the fact that windblow is breaking me apart or there are some group of people who are always putting an unfair barrier on me for 17 years... I hate being the new girl...

I just don't want anyone to do bad things on my cousin white coz I really like that cousin white aside from we have droplets of the same blood..

I just don't like the thought that cousin white will be married to a FilipiNOSE somewhere here most specially,he must get someone from USA...

I don't like the thought that cousin white is closer on other probably fake cousins on me coming from the Treyes and his part... I avoided one reunion, I remember...

It is just sad that he got married and good thing it is from there... But if it's here it must be me...

But I sense something weird... Nobody has the right to stop the LOVE from the people that I want...

[lushscreamqueen]

I am the very model of a Model of a Modernish Pansexual

I am the very model of a Model of a Modernish Pansexual I've spent my life with Disco Queens and Fairies large and minuscule. I know all types of Dr Who, I quote Monty Python casually, From early in their funny days and specials from the BBC

I'm very well acquainted with all matters of the Drama kind The things I know of Drags and Kings is guaranteed to blow your mind, There's nothing like a belly laugh to make you have a Fabby Day So play with me and have some fun I'm here to make you feel ok.

I understand some bondage stuff and Zombie Marching down the street, I know of all kinds of Tarot tricks my balls of crystal cant be beat In short, in matters future past yes I can find if you insist, I am the very model of a gal who's paranoid and rather pissed

I know Rocky Horror history, and all of it's celebrities I’ve photographs on Facebook Posing with them if you want to see. When I’m behind a microphone I’m really quite professional See me in a corset, I’m really am sensational

Quiz nights are a breeze for me, can’t question my intelligence In short I am wonder I’m the very best in every sense It’s true to say that I'm repeat myself this quote again reflects is all I am the very model of a Model of a Modernish Pansexual

Ooohh, I can write a funny skit and get it played on TV shows I can laugh and sing and dance and act with skills , nah I kid you so When I go out to parties, be don't be surprised, What I'm brilliant at, And when I know precisely what is meant by "commissariat",

When I have learnt what progress has been made in glitter lippery I slap it on so bloody much now as I see how shiny I can be You’ll never find a better Lush yes My ego is still shivering I blame myself I should be working but I'm busy writing this old thing!

Though I write this now, I know I should be doing other shit I wonder now that Channel 10 hasn’t hired me as a great new hit. But meanwhile I’ll sing praises to my wondering And pray that Gilbert and /or Sullivan won’t sue me for this little thing. by LUSHSCREAMQUEEN

[why-its-kai]

thinking too much today about my human/modernish day au!Q and his weirdass car. i still have no idea what the model would be or even the color of it but the interior is just very weird. like it’s not a particularly high-end car or anything and is far from new at the point this whole storyline in my head is happening so the extent of interior customization is just unexpected and weird. but he’s reupholstered the seats with red velour. he’s got one of those tacky gear shift knobs that’s shaped like a cobra’s head (a la his serpent form from hide&q lol). he’s had a high-quality car stereo system installed. and like at the same time it’s pretty messy in there, not like a trash/dirty mess but just lots of random junk is in there, most importantly LOTS of cassette tapes (mostly contained in the glove box and center console but those are packed tight) bc he loves music (Q usually listens to his music loudly while driving and sings along passionately but does not have a particularly good singing voice). it seems unorganized to everyone besides Q bc he knows exactly where everything is. also he’s a terrible driver (goes too fast, takes turns too tight, doesn’t remember to signal, makes sudden illegal u-turns, etc. aka the guy you never want to be driving behind lmao) but miraculously has avoided ever causing or being in a car accident. but the first time Picard accepts a ride home from Q, he thoroughly believes he’s going to die. they safely arrive at Picard’s home where he manages to choke out a polite “thank you” while Q notices the man’s literal white knuckles on his shaking hands as Picard unbuckles his seat belt and for the first time in his life, he wonders if maybe he’s not a good driver (Q is at least 50 years old at this point btw)