#black white carbon background

[wallpapers4screen]

[mountainsandmayhem]

Netflix & Chill

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

18+, MDNI

Summary: You spend your fifth date with Marcus at his place watching Netflix.

Or

You might be in your thirties, but you can still Netflix and Chill.

Warnings: fluffy smut. Kissing. Little bit of dirty talk. Fully clothed. Marcus just being the love of my life the entire time.

AN: Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. I am too busy having my brain absolutely disintegrated by thoughts of Agent Pike. I am sick over him. Down bad. Wanting to rip off my arms and beat myself senseless with them over him. Leave me alone!! But also leave me nice comments because I’m a slut with a praise kink lol. Thank you so much for reading 🤎

Graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

Moodboard by me

“Oh god,” you whimper, both of you are fully dressed. You’re caged under his strong body as he pushes his hips down on you. You can feel his cock through his grey sweats and your thin, black yoga pants. The credits of whatever movie you were watching rolled in the background.

“Is this ok?” He asks, kissing at your neck and earlobe. The soft, fuzzy brown blanket falls around both of you, encasing you in his earthy and citrus scent.

“Ya, please don’t stop.” You writhe under him, feeling that familiar tingly pressure building. He smiles into the crook of your neck.

It was your fifth date with Marcus Pike, FBI agent and potential man of your dreams. In his younger years, he probably would have already slept with you by now. But age has made him a man of patience and waiting. Only giving what he’s willing to let go of, what he can nurture and grow. And for the first time in a long time, he thinks that might be you.

“I won’t stop, baby.”

Baby, shit. He panics internally. He’s only called you by your name until now. He nervously looks over at you and you smile sleepily.

“I like that,” you mumble.

“Which part?” He asks his voice like warm oil along your skin. “Me grinding into what I’m sure is the most beautiful pussy in the world, or the kisses on your soft, slender, vanilla scented neck, or me calling you baby?”

Your legs start to shake around him as you pull him in to kiss him hard. You sweep your tongue along his bottom lip. He tastes like the popcorn and expensive Cabernet Sauvignon you were both drinking.

“All of it,” you say between kisses.

He pulls away, bringing his hands to your face and gently wiping the few loose hairs that stick to your skin, then drags the tip of his nose down yours before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re truly so beautiful. I’m so happy I met you, baby.” He pushes his hips into you harder and a pornographic moan fills the room as the trailer for whatever Netflix is suggesting next plays. “Sound so pretty too.”

“Marcus,” you say wantonly.

“I know. I’m here.” He says, eyes still locked on yours, one thumb making sweet, soft circles on your cheek while his other slips behind your head.

Your hands bunch into his white t-shirt. “I’m gonna cum,” you moan, letting his coca-cola coloured eyes wash over you, and drench your whole body in carbonated pleasure. Sparkling, bubbling, fizzing over the edge.

“I’m right here, honey.” He whispers, pushing into you a little faster. Your body jolts into his as you suck in quick, shallow breaths.

“Ohgodohgod. Mar-Marcus,” your walls clench tightly around nothing as he hits at your puffy, sensitive clit through your pants at the perfect tempo and pressure.

“Relax, baby. I got you.” He encourages and then you fall apart for him. Your body twitches on its own accord as your orgasm rolls through you for what feels like an eternity.

“That’s it,” he whispers, stilling his hips. “Just take. That’s a good girl.”

You clamp your eyes shut as you reach the top of it. “No, look at me, baby. You’re so beautiful like this.”

Pink flushes your cheeks at his words and the blood that seems to not know where to go in your body. Everything feels like it’s being doused with warm water as you finally come over the edge and the fluttering of your pussy slows.

His eyes dance around your face before he kisses your forehead, and the tip of your nose. You smile into his lips as he places a light and lingering kiss on yours.

“Are you okay?” He says sweetly, pulling back slightly.

“Ya, that’s was…” you search his face for any hint of regret but all you see is admiration. You finish with, “…unexpected, but amazing.”

As he starts to respond, a whipping sound followed by a moan comes from the TV. Both of your heads turn towards it.

“Netflix is suggesting 50 Shades of Grey,” he laughs.

“That’s more of a seventh date thing for me,” you say flatly as his face whips back to you. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction. Both of you now laughing as you sort yourself back out, cuddling into him to find a new movie to “watch” next.

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @keylimebeag @pimosworld

@casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @jessthebaker

@jasminedragoon @pedroswife69 @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @pedroshotwifey

@mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @untamedheart81

Special tag for @survivingandenduring because I know you share my love of this man.

[ipso-faculty]

Five new autistic flags! And a nautilus as a symbol of the spectrum 💛

My current autistic hyperfixation has been the question of the autistic flag. By this I mean a flag for autism specifically rather than a broader neurodiversity flag.

Between autistic flag designs that look too similar to the Métis flag to a new flag design that looks annoyingly similar to intersex flag designs, none of the designs I've found for an autism-specific flag I've found have felt right.

So, I've made a whole bunch of alternative flags, varying from tweaks to existing flags to ground-up redesigns. Here's my current shortlist. Feel free to use any or all of them, or remix as desired! <3

I'll start with describing the flags that are tweaks of existing designs, and work my way to the nautilus, which I'm introducing as an alternative symbol for the autistic spectrum.

Flag Idea 1: golden infinity symbol on white background Most neurodivergent flags I've seen is a rainbow infinity (usually an infinity loop) on a white background; this is the oldest kind of design, from 2005. Many people are already using a gold infinity symbol (ideally an infinity loop) as a symbol for autism, because Au = gold.

I took the gold infinity symbol used to represent autism in the 2023 Autistic Progress Pride Flag, and stuck it on a white background, in the style of neurodiversity flags. I tweaked the infinity loop a little bit to further visually distinguish it from the Métis flag.

Flag Idea 2: fixing the red-yellow-green autistic flag This one takes the 2021 red-yellow-green autistic flag and replaces the problematic white lemniscate infinity symbol (which has been used to represent the Métis since 1815) with a dark red infinity loop. Red is another popular colour in autistic designs as a fuck you to Autism Speaks (fuck Autism Speaks).

Flag Idea 3: recolouring the Disability Pride flag (AuTiSTiC) There are two ideas in this flag. The first is to take the Magill disability pride flag and recolour the diagonal stripes to represent autism.

Since gold is used in autistic designs because Au->Autistic? Let's go all in. This flag has the colours of: Au: gold Ti: titanium (light grey) S: sulphur (light yellow) Ti: titanium (light grey again) C: carbon (off-black)

This is unashamedly dorky and I feel like if any minority group gets to have a dorky flag it should be us autistics.

Flag Idea 4: golden infinity + disability pride flag These flags represent the accumulation of the ideas thus far. Gold infinity symbol plus disability pride flag. I tried putting the infinity directly on the diagonal stripes and it was too busy, so I've moved them to the corners.

On the left is a version with the disability pride flag colours. On the right is a version using a yellow-white-yellow stripe design from the 2021 neurodiversity flag that's based on the disability pride flag.

Flag Idea 5: the rainbow nautilus for the spectrum After showing earlier drafts of all of these flags to a bunch of my autistic friends, a consistent feedback was that none of us were actually that keen on the infinity symbol as a symbol of autism (even without the Métis issue).

I think flags are an opportunity to tell outsiders about what we’re about. One thing I want to convey about being autistic is that the autistic spectrum does NOT mean a gradient from autistic to non-autistic. Here’s a visualization I like:

So I got to thinking about how to visualize that polar graph. I realized a nautilus shell works on a number of levels:

To convey the polar graphs in a stylized way

A fractal shape keeps with the theme of infinity

We autistic folks tend to live in our metaphorical shells =)

Best as I can tell from google text & image searches, the nautilus is not used by any minority groups or geographic regions for flags. A handful of businesses and software projects have nautilus logos, so I iterated design to be nice and distinct.

Here's another version with the gold-and-white neurodiversity stripes:

I also wanna note that as somebody who has ADHD and autism that I am 100% fine with anybody who wants to use the nautilus for AuDHD - the very idea of the autism spectrum was to unite highly intertwined diagnosis categories and personally I think it's reasonable to include ADHD in the autism spectrum.

If you would like alternative versions / tweaks to these flags, let me know in the comments. I also want to be explicit that I release all of these designs in the public domain, so you are free to reuse and remix as desired! 💛

I've tried to provide a nice range of options from remixing existing designs to new ideas, and I hope everybody can find at least one autistic flag they like that is also distinct from other minority groups (e.g. Métis, intersex). I've also posted a detailed overview on infinity symbol design for anybody designing new flags! 💛

If you have any favourites or ideas for flags let me know! I'm curious which ones people will like most. edit: uploaded the SVGs to Wikimedia commons for anybody who wants to play with them.

[ebonysolcum]

“Year of Hell”

Something a bit different from my usual drawings. There are no people involved! Lol.

This started because I wanted to draw the broken teacup. I already had plans to draw the watch, and it quickly morphed into this set of four drawings. The broken teacup ended up being my least favourite because there wasn’t a good reference photo, but I adore the other three.

Digital drawings done in Procreate. White carbon stick on black background.

[sunnysam-my]

Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 2

I am a bit of fashion, especially men's, history nerd, and I'm also a bit of radio nerd, so here I go, biblically accurate Alastor.

ALASTOR:

Alastor was a radio host (a radio star?) who lived and died in Louisiana. He was shot during a hunting accident, in the head, somewhere in the 1933, during radio's golden era. He cares greatly about his image and always smiles to show no weaknesses. He hates modern technology and doesn't allow his face to be captured by video recording or non black and white camera. His is mixed-race Creole.

Nothing about Alastor design make sense and it pisses me off. Not only it doesn't fit the time, it also doesn't fit his character! Besides, he is too red. He disappears into the background, especially walls of the Hotel.

Alastor cares about his image greatly, yet his clothes are torn. He is supposed to be like Hannibal, yet he looks like an edgelord wannabe. It's awful. I learned nothing about him from his design, other than "he's and old-time radio deer guy", and that's really bad.

Fashion in 30s was inspired by Hollywood, and sport and movies celebrities.

Back and white fashion in this period wasn't that different, at least for men, as long as you weren't poor, but here are some photos of specifically black fashion in 30s. In general I recommend that website if you want to look more into the fashion of this period.

His hair is completely wrong. And it's also really ugly lol. For richer black men a shiny straightening hairstyle was the go to since 1920s. One such style was "the conk" where one would chemically straighten their hair. It left hair shiny, but the process was painful and expensive. It literally could burn your scalp.

Another popular style was the brush wave. It's creating narrow waves rolling on top of head with the sides cut short and smooth. This hairstyle is still present to this day, but nowadays it's done on the whole head.

Other than that, men just wore their hair naturally, but short.

There is no focus on trousers or vest in Alastor's outfit. (Which is wild considering zipper fly was introduced in the early 30s, but was got popular by the mid ’30s). This was time of experimenting a bit with vests. If you wanted to look fancy and/or formal, you would wear a vest. Pants were wide legged, had a high waist and a single pressed line down the center of the leg. Some trouser waistbands were unique in the 1930s, for example a Hollywood waistband trouser. It had an extra wide band with a double row of buttons. They fit very high, overlapping the ribs. they often had netal ring tabs on the sides to tighten the pant to the correct fit without the need for belts or suspenders.

Also, monocle? Really? …Really? Here you go, read this if you're curious. Lots of pictures of glasses included. Glasses stayed essentially the same in 30s as they were in 20s. They were "round with a center bridge in the early years and an upper bridge in the later years. Frames could be tortoiseshell, black plastic, or thin metal." 

Moving on from fashion, because I could never shut up, microphones!

The most probabale one that everyone who is redesigning Al is drawing is a good old classic Carbon mic. It looks like a ring with a metal star and the microphone inside. It can be hand held or a staff.

But, if you wanna draw something different!

Other than Carbon mic there is also a Ribbon microphone (first row) and Moving Coil mic (second row). Unfortunately, they killed Alastor in the best part of the radio golden age, so the mics are still a bit ugly, not gonna lie.

How would I design him:

First things firsts, either he is mixed or he is white, because right now it just feels like a cheep excuse to have an "evil voodoo" character without getting too much backlash. Let's be honest, nobody thought he was a POC and that white face doesn't help. Again, just like I mentioned with Vel, when you're drawing a character with human like skin tone you have to be careful and think how it ties to their race.

Second - fashion. His outfit and hairstyle is a disaster. He has always tried to 'dress to impress', so obviously I would give him well maintained clothing and that 'high quality', formal style. I would give him the dark brown Hollywood trouser with buttons and dark crimson shirt, like dried blood almost. Under a coat or jacket he would have a brow vest, both the same colour as the pants. Highlights would be golden and green or purple. I for one would love to see him start out with a jacket/coat which he stops wearing inside the hotel after he bonds with the people inside it more, but he would still wear it outside and in the finale would put it on again, after his breakdown in the tower. This would show he began to trust the hotel residents a bit before he 'realises his mistake' after the battle. I would give him short haircut, because not even white people wore hair like that. (What in the Karen-core is it supposed to be?). Say goodbye to that monocle. Why is it even there there? Because he is old-timely? What is he, a children's cartoon villain? His design doesn't need more soulless clutter. Give me something that tells me about him as a character. I've seen people give him old radio as teeth or chest and I love it! When it's not too detailed, it's a great idea to make Alastor less like a living human but also less of… just a deer. He just looks like a deer demon. I would keep his shoes, hands and antlers, and give him ears that would fit the hairstyle I would go with.

[Edit: I forgot to mention, I would give him a time accurate hat or a free wavy lock of hair to cover the mark on his forehead where he was shot]

Thirdly, the microphone! My love. I remember the microphone used to be able to talk, but now it doesn't, unless I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure. Now it's just a weird look staff microphone with an eye and that's about it. But imagine something like a moving coil with the metal sign on top of it were the letters on it change. It could be a way it's communicating, in a simple way. This was it could still have a unique shape. That would have been fun to see. I can certainly imagine it being something of an 'unfiltered voice' of Alastor, where it would change it's writing into "Shut up", "Die" or something like that and he would hit it in a reprimanding way to reverse it to "Smile!". I'm just saying, that's a cool idea.

Well, this took forever to make, I actually forgot about this, so it just sat in my drafts. Anyway, if you want to see brilliant use of costumes and detailed, accurate depiction of fashion (especially black and queer) through history in New Orleans I recommend "Interview With The Vampire" (2022). It's also a great show.

[centrally-unplanned]

Since I am discussing anime academia today, I was reading another paper that was equally frustrating, along a different axis:

“Do female anime fans exist?” The impact of women-exclusionary discourses on rec.arts.anime

This as a premise is a good concept; someone mining the 90's Usenet anime communities for how the fandom saw female fans back then (the article title is quoting one such thread). So of course, the opening line of this article about the anime fandom in the 90's is....sigh....a reference to Donald Trump:

Commenting on the 2016 American presidential elections, multiple news reporters noted that a relationship could be found between Donald Trump supporters and online anime fans

It of course goes on to discuss Gamergate, 8chan, online right-wing radicalization, references to the "Fascist" themes of Attack on Titan, and on and on. The obvious problem with this is that it is irrelevant; the "methodology" section involves this aside about how they pulled this data from Google Archives but Google is an advertising firm and not a replacement for a real archive and we need to Fight The System and buddy my dude that is not germane to your sample size!!! But more importantly, it is backwards. I don't need to explain the argument here in detail; the article is positing a throughline from 90's anime discourse to modern right-wing internet politics through a sort of 'lock-in' effect of built culture norms around misogyny. Which is fine, you can make that argument - but why is all this future stuff in the first section? You haven't really presented the argument yet! This isn't a book, its not the intro chapter - literally 30% of the text of this article is stating a conclusion upfront, justified not through the text itself but citations to other articles about its truth.

This is something media studies pulled from traditional science - traditional science states "established facts" up front that the paper is building on. But that is because - a thousand caveats aside - in chemistry those facts are....facts. They may be wrong facts, but they can, ostensibly, be objective descriptors. This paper cites "anime is still synonymous with far-right ideologies of white and male supremacy, and events of anti-Blackness" like its citing the covalent bond count of carbon. That is not and never will be a fact one can cite, that is an argument; and its not one that is important for understanding this analysis of Usenet groups. This structure is pulled from other sciences, but it flourishes because it lets you pad the citation count of your peers. Its embarrassing how often you can skip the first 1/3rd of a paper in this field - really the worst possible thing to copy from economics (ding!)

This paper also does the insane thing of jumping between citations from 1992 and events in the 2010's like anime culture is continuous between those time periods. Its an extremely bold claim it just does in the background... but lets set that aside.

This hyper-politicization & hyper-theorizing leads to the second issue of extreme under-analysis. This is the actual value-add of this paper:

From this search, I was able to find the discussion threads “How many females read r.a.a.?” (135 messages; opened on July 13, 1993), “Question: Girls on r.a.a?” (23 messages; opened on February 25, 1994), “Female Otakus” (221 messages; opened on June 25, 1994), “Women watching anime” (72 messages; opened on October 4, 1994), and “Female fans - Do they exist?” (61 messages; opened on October 26, 1995). While these discussions may seem like they were spaces for marginalized users to discuss their experiences, they were often started and overwhelmingly occupied by identified male users. In total, I extracted 252 messages from 1992 to 1996 that were relevant to the gendering of anime fandom, and among those, I classified them as 7 kinds of negative networking discursive practices: (e.g. Table 1. Negative networking practices on rec.arts.anime).

252 messages, five threads - later on it will name other threads, so its more than this, but you get it. It has a bunch of data. And from that data, the article quotes...less than half a dozen examples. There are no quantitative metrics, no threads are presented or discussed in detail from this data set. Some other event is discussed in detail, but again it quotes essentially one person once. The provided "Table 1", the only Table, is a list of the author's categorizations of the data; the data itself is not present. Its file format is a CSV, presumably to mock me for clicking it.

There is, from top to bottom, a complete lack of engagement with the data in question. This would fail an intro anthropology seminar; the conclusion is simply presumed from 1% of the sample size while the rest of the messages are left on read. I just don't think there is any value in that, a handful of messages from 1996 divorced from their context and stapled onto modern politics as a wrap-up. What did the people on this Usenet value? How did they think of women collectively? As anime fans, as outsiders, as romantic partners, as friends? What subfactions existed? Questions like those would presumably be the point of this investigation, but they are treated as distractions.

And this article was, in anime academic circles, a pretty well-trumpeted one. I'm not cherry-picking a bad one here, it was the "hot paper" of the month when it came out. Its just that the standards can be so low, its a field that simply lacks rigor. Which doesn't stop a ton of great work from being done btw, that isn't my point at all. My point is that the great work is not selected for; it goes unrewarded, bogged down by academic standards divorced from discovering real insights.

(I do not think the question "why are they misogynist" ever crossed the author's mind. That should be your literal thesis, and its a ghost. Just ugh.)

[alexalessandro]

This is just me being silly goofy on Main, but can we talk about the similarities between Drake and KipperLily Copperkettle? l-

Like the fact that they’re both minorities Kipperlily’s an halfling and Drake is black but also they are so clearly drenched in privilege like KipperLily being from a family with enough money to rent multiple fucking food trucks and buy expensive ass spell components from Aelwyn and drake being half white and rich.

(not to mention in a world where black people exist she is a blue eye blondie with a superiority complex that ain’t lost on me character design wise)

But still both of them wanting that trauma porn and identity of other more marginalized people like Riz or you know other black rappers

I don’t know the more I think about the Drake/Kipperlily parallels between their personalities and backgrounds the more hilarious it becomes

And at least Kipperlily doesn’t have all the other allegations that Drake has but you know just personality and background wise they’re such a carbon copy.

I just find it funny it makes me giggle.

[temperqnce]

Shakarian Heist-Fic

This is a small piece of a ridiculously long ME2 fic I've been keeping close to my chest and working on-and-off on for like. Ten years. This comes right after Garrus said something stupid on Purgatory (the for-profit ransom jail, not the club) that was insensitive considering her slavery-related PTSD (she has the colony background.) They worked it out. Next thing he knows, he's on a heist-date on Bekenstein, orchestrated by Kasumi. Shep's determined to mess with him a little while they're out. This is pre-relationship.

Please be nice, I have NEVER posted work publicly before!!!

Port Observation Deck

The door to the observation deck slid open and Garrus stepped inside. In front of him, the vastness of space glimmered with sparkling stars. To his right was a small, self-service bar and lounge - a civilian ship luxury, stocked with liquors of all colors in mostly regulation space-travel friendly cylinders. They were mostly levo drinks, friendly for most non-turian species, but a few were carefully separated and labeled dextro. He had come here once or twice before, to break the ice with some of the crew. Since Kasumi had moved in, she had taken over the left half of the room with tasteful displays of (mostly stolen) art and other personal effects, but there was still plenty of space to lounge and watch the stars go by. 

On the black corner couch in the middle of the room, Kasumi and the commander were chatting and having a few drinks. Shepard was on the half of the couch that faced the door. She was dressed down in some comfortable-looking civvies, and the two women seemed relaxed. Shepard had been intently listening to whatever Kasumi had been saying before Garrus entered the room. The two looked up at him and Shepard smiled brightly and stood. 

“Garrus! Thank you for coming by. We have a favor to ask of you. Come sit. I’ll get you a drink.”

“Anything for you, Commander,” he said, and obeyed, sitting next to Kasumi on the side of the couch facing the bar. 

Shepard came back shortly with an unfamiliar midnight-dark concoction that bubbled on the sides of a narrow-topped, spouted glass. “Jane. What is this?”

“Try it. I’ve been experimenting,” She said, looking a little devious as she sat back down.

“...Are you trying to kill me, Shepard? Is this revenge?”

“Of course not! Look, it’s just xin and Drossix, but with a sort of… Quarian twist. Trust me, okay?”

“Trust you? You haven’t even tried it. You couldn’t. This could actually kill you.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Kasumi cut in. “She’d get indigestion, at worst. You know when they say ‘Drossix Blue makes human stomachs explode’ they just mean drunk assholes shitting themselves, right?” 

“...Right. Well, here goes nothing,” he said, and tossed back the drink in one gulp. Shepard’s eyes lit up, watching his face. The base of the cocktail was richly bitter and strong, but the bubbles popped tart and almost sweet on his tongue. The carbonation was dense, but the beverage went down smooth. He felt a light pleasant buzz hit the back of his brain. 

“Wow,” he said, setting the glass on the table. “That’s nice. When did you develop an interest in dextro bartending?” 

“Two of my closest friends are dextro, Garrus, it’s called cultural competence.” 

“Only one of those friends is a dextro that drinks.”

“Well… consider it me plying you for that favor.” 

“Right. You’ve liquored me up, now what do you two want with me?”

Kasumi and Shepard shared a conspiratorial look, and Kasumi nodded. The commander grinned at Garrus and asked,

“Do you wanna be my date on a heist?” 

Bekenstein

The self-driving cab descended, hovering ever closer to a huge compound taking up the edge of a dramatic cliff. The mansion at the center was made of tall glass walls and sweeping white curves. Spreading out around it were several warehouse facilities patterned almost like waves breaking away from the centerpiece. It was an incredible sight to behold as the sun crept towards the horizon and tinted the sky pink. The sunlight played gently on the mist that gathered over a vast and rocky canyon. Shepard was taking it in when Garrus grunted next to her. 

“Nice digs.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Paid for in blood,” Kasumi darkly added in the seat behind them. “The rest of the compound is an arms manufacturing facility.” 

Kasumi had asked Shepard to help her infiltrate a party of high-class criminals. Hoarders of culture and art, elite mercenary bosses, corrupt politicians, arms dealers, the works. Their mission was to break into the vault belonging to the host and retrieve a greybox belonging to a fellow thief. From what Shepard could tell, Keiji had been Kasumi’s partner in crime as well as in life. The greybox contained his memories, and as if that weren’t precious enough, encrypted within them was some damning intelligence that could cause serious upheaval in the Alliance. Keiji had been killed and his memories stolen by the criminal and art mogul Donovan Hock. Shepard was going undercover as Alison Gunn, a mercenary alter ego designed and made almost real by Kasumi’s expert work online. 

“I still don’t know why you aren’t doing this with Jacob,” Garrus complained. “The two of you would probably make a more… believable couple.”

Kasumi snorted. “HAH. Doubt it. At best they would think he was her employee. At worst his domineering mother-in-law. Come on bud, you were a detective. Crime in Citadel Space is your thing.” 

The cab touched down in an empty roundabout in front of the main hall of the mansion. They were a tad late. The cab opened up, and Kasumi lithely hopped out. 

“Hey, I’m not old enough to be anybody’s mother-in-law!” Shepard called after her, adjusting the one bracelet she owned, a simple silver chain. She started to stand. “Trust me Garrus, this is better. Kasumi’s right, you have experience dealing with these types.” She climbed out of the cab the best she could in the dress Kasumi picked out for her. It was a black halter-top dress that showed off her muscular shoulders and back. It was entirely too clingy for ease of movement, accentuating the difference between her toned waist and her bulky thighs. “It also helps that you’re not borderline afraid of me.” 

Garrus laughed, climbing out after her. “Oh, but I am.”

“Are you?” She asked, amused. She turned to offer him a hand, and he took it, but with his long legs he was already out of the car. Instead he linked their elbows and gave her a wink. 

“Oh yes. You’re terrifying. Squishy, but terrifying.” 

“Squishy?”

“Let’s move, lovebirds!” Kasumi called. The art thief was standing next to a second car fiddling with her omni-tool. As she worked, the car opened and a large gold statue of the turian spectre and infamous legend Saren Arterius slid out on a hoverplate. “We still have to go over the plan one last time.” 

They huddled together around the gaudy statue. “This really is tasteless. I can’t believe he’s taking it,” Garrus commented. 

“After a certain point, wealth actually makes your taste infinitely worse,” Kasumi said matter-of-factly. “The richest of the rich have houses full of garbage. You’ll see once we get inside.” She grimaced. “Can’t put a price on your soul.” 

“So, Garrus and I go in as merc leader Alison Gunn and…” Shepard trailed off, at a loss. “What’s Garrus’ cover? He’s famous in his own right these days. And as cool as it would be to bring Archangel, he’s supposed to be dead.” 

“Oh, I’ve got a name for the big guy,” said Kasumi. “You’ll be attending as Altus Avaros. No cool background, you’re just a wife guy. Pure arm candy.” 

“I can do that,” said Garrus, addressing Kasumi but staring at Jane, who had doubled over in silent giggles, covering her mouth with her free hand. Kasumi grinned knowingly at Garrus’ confused stare. 

“Let’s just hope there aren’t a lot of guests like our girl that know both Palaven Standard and Latin.” 

“Do I wanna know?” Garrus asked while Shepard pulled herself together. Big bird. BIG BIRD. She wanted to tell him but she knew it would ruin it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Kasumi smiled innocently. “You two are going to go in. Schmooze a little, but not too much. We don’t want people asking you too many questions or your aliases will fall apart. Then we locate the vault, find its weaknesses, and I’ll guide you through exploiting them. I’ll be with you, and scouting around the house unseen. The statue will smuggle our weapons and armor for when we get into the vault. You can keep your sidearms. They’ll probably expect you to.” 

After briefing, Kasumi vanished, leaving the pair to start up a set of stone stairs, hovering Saren statue in tow. 

“I still can’t believe you called me squishy,” Shepard jabbed, elbowing her date as they walked.

“Speaking of squishy, where are you hiding your pistol in a dress that tight?” 

She snorted. “I could show you, but then I’d have to kill you.” 

The interior of the mansion had an incredible view of the sunset given that the entire western wall was made of glass and crystal. The center of the main room had a water feature, a large but gentle fountain with benches nearby for sitting. To either side, roped off sets of spiral stairs, and beyond those, alcoves of priceless paintings and art. The host hadn’t shown himself yet and Kasumi was scoping out the vault entrance, so Garrus and Shepard browsed the exhibits. 

The two made thoughtful noises here and there as they walked slowly through the displays. Eventually, Shepard sighed.

“Is it just me,” she whispered, “or is this…?”

“The most bored you’ve ever been in your life?” Garrus leaned over to rumble in her ear. 

“Oh thank God. It’s not that I don’t like art, it’s just-”

“Hey, you don’t have to pretend to be cultured around me.” 

“Really though! Kas was right, this stuff is uniquely bad!” 

“You know, I bet it’s better with booze. Everything’s better with booze.” 

“Garrus, we shouldn’t. We’re on a-”

“My name is Altus, thank you, and I’m already walking away. Don’t go anywhere,” he said, and he was around the corner and out of sight. 

Shepard grumbled and sat down on a bench by a small fireplace. The fire was set into the wall opposite the paintings they were looking at, which also hosted shelves upon shelves of books and knick knacks. She was about to pick up a book when a pale human male with a jar-shaped head and the worst facial hair she’d ever seen sat down next to her. 

“Alison Gunn, I presume?” he said in a bizarre accent she couldn’t place, holding out his hand. Jane took it and smiled politely. 

“Yes, good to meet you, Mr��?”

“Hock. I am your host tonight,” He said smoothly. Instead of shaking her hand, Donovan Hock lifted her hand delicately and pressed it to his lips. Shepard’s stomach soured. “Are you enjoying the party thus far?” 

“I am, Mr. Hock. You have a breathtaking home,” Shepard did her best to maintain a level countenance as she took her hand back. If she could be cool under gunfire, this should be easy. Right?

“Please, call me Donovan, Ms. Gunn. And thank you for the compliment. I paid the architect three times his usual fee for his undivided attention and for dealing with participation on my part. I wanted it to reflect my tastes well,” He smiled slyly at Shepard. She felt her face start to traitorously wrinkle with disgust, and schooled it into something more like vague interest. “Come with me across the gallery for a moment, will you?” Hock continued. “I would like to show you something.” 

“This is good,” Kasumi chimed in Shepard’s earpiece. “I need a voice sample from him, it’s one of the keys to the vault. Keep him talking.” 

“Alright,” Jane said in reply to both, and she stood to follow Hock. 

Hock took her out of the northern gallery alcove and around to one of its outer walls facing the back windows. On a pedestal against the wall, was that… an old Earth optical disc? It was huge. Wider than Hock’s own massive head. 

“I admire your work, Ms. Gunn,” The man began, stepping uncomfortably close. “You keep the barbarians at bay. Those backward-thinkers that try - and always fail - to stop people like me from doing what is necessary to keep the world turning. You understand the value of my work. I appreciate that.” He gestured to the disc. “You see this? A relic of a bygone age. If it weren’t for people like us, making the right moves, making the difficult choices, doing the galaxy’s dirty work… humanity would be stuck in the dark ages. Swinging clubs and writhing in the mud.” He stepped aside and let the colorful, sparkling gradient of sunset light behind them shine on the reflective surface of the disc. 

“That was… an enlightening speech, Mr. Hock,” Shepard managed to say, turning back to the host. “And of course I agree. I appreciate that we, uh, share that understanding.” She forced herself to smile. 

“There is much I have to share with beautiful women, Ms. Gunn,” Hock said smoothly, sliding back into her personal space. Shepard felt her biotics flicker, her hand twitching and the back of her neck getting warm. She clenched her fist and-

“Heyyyy, honey, I got that drink you wanted!” Garrus said cheerfully, sliding one arm around Shepard’s waist and putting a champagne flute in her hand with the other. The maneuver effectively created a barrier on all sides of her body for a moment, and forced Hock to back up. Jane felt her building rage and tension soften. Trust Garrus to be a smooth operator, she thought, relieved. 

“Sorry, Shep,” Kasumi said in her ear. “I had to hold him back for just a second while I got the recording. But we’re good, so you guys can feel free to get Hock out of your hair.” 

The art mogul scowled, then schooled his expression and tilted his head up slightly as if to look down at the pair. If that were possible, given that Garrus was at least a whole head taller than him. 

“Mr. Hock, I appreciate you inviting my wife and I into your home tonight,” Garrus said warmly, pulling Shepard a little tighter into his side. “It’s a gorgeous place. We were just talking about how captivating the view is. You wouldn’t mind if I stole her away for a moment on the balcony…?” 

“Of course, please. I have other guests to attend,” Hock said coolly. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Gunn.” 

Shepard smiled as sweetly as she could at him, not trusting herself to speak, and let Garrus lead her down the hall and out the glass door to the wide balcony overlooking the canyon. An air highway crossing the canyon led directly into the sweeping skyline of Milgram, Bekenstein’s capital city. The buildings there were some of the tallest she’d ever seen outside of the Citadel.

Garrus let go of her waist once they reached the edge. They stood next to each other, not touching anymore but still close, resting their glasses and their arms on the thick balcony railing. They were quiet, taking in the view. Then,

“Sorry. For grabbing your waist.” 

Jane was surprised. “No need. It’s fine.” 

“No, I mean. It’s more normal for humans than it is for turians,” Garrus explained, an edge of nervousness to his voice. “We don’t really do… public displays of affection, even with partners or family. I had to sort of code-switch for a minute, and it’s fine surrounded by mostly humans. But… I would have been slapped, doing that back home. So. I feel like I need to apologize out of respect for you, even though… it doesn’t mean much to you. As a human.”

“Hmm,” Shepard said, thoughtful. It was endearing of Garrus to think so much about their cultural differences. He seemed to know a lot more about what was normal for her than she did for him. She would have to catch up. “I’m not sure what I should say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” 

“I appreciate you. For stepping in. It was good timing.” 

Garrus chuckled softly. “Well… again, normally I wouldn’t do something like that. I know you’re capable of handling yourself. But normally you’d be able to hand a guy his ass with very few consequences.” 

“Yeah,” Shepard sighed. “I really wanted to do it.”

“Kick his ass?”

“Yeah.” 

“Me too,” he admitted ruefully. “Did you know I was top of my class for hand-to-hand combat in the academy? I bet he doesn’t know that.”

“Maybe he’ll get to find out later,” Shepard mused. “The night isn’t over yet.” 

“You’re right,” Garrus sighed. He tapped his glass with a talon. “You should drink this. It’s good.” 

“Your drink?”

“No. Our drink. We’re drinking the same thing.” Shepard had failed to notice that the pale, icy-green colored liquid was in both of their glasses.

“How is that-”

“It’s a newer kind of dual-chirality wine,” He explained. “Asari-made. Levo and dextro friendly, without the weird taste. I’ve been wanting to try it for a while, but it’s expensive, and, well, I didn’t want to do it alone. There was never a right moment.”

“But now, on this rich asshole’s dime…”

“Exactly.” 

Shepard touched her glass to his, a pleasant chime ringing over the vast canyon in front of them, then she took a slow sip, savoring the moment. It hit her tongue tart but settled dry, somehow both intense and impossibly light, like someone had taken an Earthen white wine and hit it with a particle accelerator. Whatever undoubtedly alien ingredients they used reminded her more of lychee and pear than of grapes. 

“Wow,” she said. “This is nice. I like it a lot.” 

“I’m glad. I’ll have to find some on the Citadel the next time we go.” 

“Thank you, Garrus. For this, and for earlier.”

“You know I’ve always got your back.” 

Static buzzed in Shepard’s ear. 

“You guys are gross. Married for all of five minutes and already making me puke,” Kasumi teased in their ears. “Get back inside, I got everything we need to get in the vault. It’s time to get suited up.” 

Jane felt a blush coming on. She left her glass on the balcony and grabbed Garrus’ hand, doing her best to twine their mismatched fingers together and pull him back indoors. They descended the stairs to the long hallway that led to the vault. 

“Hold on,” Garrus started, and they froze on the last step. “Guards coming down the other side.” Sure enough, Shepard saw the shadows of two armored men lingering at the top of the stairs at the other end of the hallway. A wicked idea fixed in her mind and she flashed a wide grin at her partner. 

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said, and with her left arm she tugged him down the last step while with her right she shoved him up against the wall. She got a rush of satisfaction at witnessing his shock and nervousness, his eyes wide and his hands up in disarmed surrender. “I know you just said turians don’t like PDA, but…”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he replied quickly with an urgent glance down the hall.  

How does one kiss a turian? Shepard mused, pressing up against him and elbowing his arms down. The guy doesn’t have lips. She supposed she’d have to improvise. Garrus settled his hands on her hips tentatively and she wrapped hers around the back of his neck, gently craning his neck so she could reach him. A mandible is like a jaw, right? A sensitive, more expressive part of a jaw? She placed soft kisses down the uninjured side, smiling at the panicked heartbeat she felt reverberating in his chest. What happened to Mr. Suave? She wondered, before finally pressing the first of a series of exploratory kisses on his mouthplates. Kissing turians won’t be necessary, she heard her own voice in the back of her mind say to Ashley in the Cargo Bay all those years ago. She was okay with being wrong. Not because she was into it, or anything, of course. Just to get under the usually cool and confident sniper’s skin. And by his reaction… shallow breathing, tightly fluttering mandibles, a high timbre in his chest that she could only describe as acute distress… she had succeeded. That was pure satisfaction. 

She was lost in figuring out how to describe what his very foreign mouth tasted like when she heard a cough from behind her. Garrus had apparently forgotten what they were doing all of this for, because he jumped a little and let go of her quickly, like a teen having been caught under the bleachers. That was fitting enough, though, and Jane stepped back, making a show of fixing herself up though he hadn’t done anything other than attempt to kiss her back and clamp onto her hips for dear life. 

The two Eclipse guards looked some combination of embarrassed and dumbstruck. Turian-human couples weren’t very common, for good reason. “Sorry for the uh, interruption, ma’am,” one of them said, flushing and not meeting her eyes. “Just - well. This hallway isn’t off-limits, per-se, but it’s not private, either. You might wanna… I mean. Mr. Hock’s estate is extensive, I’m sure staff could find you and your, uh, friend a room if you wanted.” 

Shepard gave the men her most devastating smile. “Thanks, boys. We’ll finish up here and probably head home.”

“Of course, ma’am,” the guard said, and quickly moved along, elbowing his partner to follow him.

When they were out of sight, Shepard turned back to Garrus, whose blue-flushed neck was slowly returning to normal along with his steady breathing. He glowered at her. 

“You enjoyed that a little too much, Commander.”

“Aww, was it really that bad?” Shepard pouted. 

The blush returned. “No! No, I, uh, well, it was, uh. Just. New,” he spluttered. “Different.”

“Calm down, big guy, I’m only teasing,” she laughed, and grabbed him by the elbow to pull him down to the vault door. 

She was going to have to thank Kasumi later. This was the most fun she’d had on a mission in a while. 

--------

Kasumi flipped backwards off Hock’s gunship and back down onto some shipping containers in the coolest feat of acrobatics Jane had ever seen.

“I do love a professional,” Garrus buzzed in her ear. She could hear the smile in his voice through the radio. Having disabled the ship’s shields, the only thing left to do was blow it out of the sky. 

Shepard pulled out her grenade launcher and crouched to load it. High on the landing pad but behind some crates, Kasumi made quick and precise shots with her pistol at the windows of the gunship, clearly going for Hock’s head. Garrus popped up from his spot on the opposite side of the platform from Shepard, shot a few strategically-aimed high-caliber rounds, then disappeared to reload. Shepard could hear them both muttering to themselves over the radio. 

“Take that, you bastard. I hope one of these lobotomizes you but keeps you alive so I can shoot you a few more times you sick fuck-”

“-turian design, weak points in the armor… here, here, and… here-”

Shepard looked up and hefted the grenade launcher to her shoulder. She waited for Hock to pause between his hail of bullets and the next round of pummeling rockets. She charged her shields, hoping to draw Hock’s attention. She popped up and rapid-fired, three grenades at once. She figured one or two of them might interrupt the barrage while the other snuck past. Garrus also popped up. Hock fired his missiles. But not at Shepard. 

“Shit-” Jane heard, and then Garrus’ radio cut out. 

-----

Garrus hit the ground. Hard. Something buzzed on the screen of his visor and his radio cut. Diagnostics told him he’d cracked a tiny part of the receiver - no big deal, he could weld that back together with his omni-tool. 

His combat HUD told him all three grenades Shepard sent off had hit the gunship square on. Kasumi cheered, loud enough that he’d picked it up without the aid of his radio. Safe now from rocket fire (thank the spirits) he sat up to take his visor off and quickly zap it back into shape. He thought he heard the commander yelling from pretty far away. Then suddenly she was right in his face. 

She’d lept over his cover and landed haphazardly beside him, then grabbed his shoulders with force that would have completely fucked his welding if he hadn’t had the presence of mind to stop. Her eyes were wild and her hands were shaking. Concerned, Garrus wrapped his hands around her elbows in what he hoped was a comforting grip. 

“Jane? What’s wrong?” He asked, thoroughly confused. 

“Rocket,” she said between heavy breaths from the dead sprint she must have been in. “You didn’t pop back up.”

Oh. 

“I’m fine,” he said, his subvocals coming out low and warm, the emotion stronger than he expected. He squeezed at the joint of her arms. “Just broke the receiver in my visor. I was fixing it.” 

She shoved him a little, clearly miffed, and knocked a fist against his armor. “You have at least two backup radios. What did I get you this stupid suit for? You and that damned visor.” She shook her head, but smiled as he pulled it out to finish the quick weld. 

“Guys! The Kodiak is almost here,” Kasumi called from above, leaning over the railing of the landing pad. “We probably want to get out as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Shepard said while Garrus gave an affirmative hand signal, and the thief disappeared.

Garrus replaced his patched-up visor and re-connected to their combat frequency, then caught Jane’s arm before she started vaulting over the concrete barrier between them and the stairs. The playing-pretend part of the evening might have been long-since over, but he couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t see the bit all the way through. 

“Before we go,” he said quickly to her surprised face, “I just… wanted to say thanks. This was fun.” 

The commander’s expression was caught between amusement and confusion, a small, open smile showing while her brows furrowed. She looked away from him, blinked a few times, then said, “Uh, yeah, it was, wasn’t it? I’m… glad.” She seemed to gather herself, then looked at him again, smiling in a more relaxed way this time. “I’d say we should do it again sometime, but…”

“What, get invited to a high-class criminal soiree, drink their booze, steal their shit, and blow it up? I’m game if you are.” 

“It’s a date,” she said, winking at him, then she slung herself over the concrete divider and hurried up the landing pad stairs. 

His heart was hammering, all of the sudden. 

It was just a joke. Wasn’t it? 

Shit. 

-------- 

Garrus found himself back where all of this had started, staring at the Normandy’s meager selection of dextro liquor and mixers in the starboard lounge. He was alone, thank the spirits. Shepard and Kasumi were debriefing in the commander’s cabin, deciding the fate of the greybox. 

He thought about trying to mix up what Jane had made for him before the mission, but he didn’t really have the presence of mind to recreate it properly. He poured himself a glass of straight xin and sat on the couch with a huff. 

Over and over again, his mind was replaying that moment on the stairs, right before they broke into the vault. He’d frozen up completely, as nervous as a fledgling boy. He was damned near thirty years old, he should have been able to do something. Anything at all. Shit, he’d wanted to. Run a hand through her hair. Pull one of her legs over his hip. Try to find where she’d hidden that gun… Just to be convincing. To the mercs who were watching. The patrolling mercs that he had forgotten about as soon as she started kissing him. 

The door behind him slid open and Kasumi walked in, silent as the grave. She placed her greybox on her desk gently and sat on the couch on her side of the room, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her head on her knees. 

“You don’t have to leave,” she said as he started to get up. Her voice was calm. He rose to his feet anyway.

“I was going to ask if you wanted a drink,” he said, gesturing to his cup. She looked up at him and smiled faintly. 

“Pour me half a glass of that blue bottle up top, and fill the rest with the red juice in the fridge. I’m feeling like a party girl,” she said with a hiccuping laugh. Garrus couldn’t see her eyes under her hood, but he’d wager high creds that she was crying. 

He did as she asked and brought it to her, sitting down on the other side of the same couch. 

“Are you… alright?” he asked slowly. She took a few small sips from her glass before answering. 

“Yes. And no,” she said. “I’m keeping the greybox. It’s all I have left of Keiji. But… I don’t think the commander approves. It was a hard conversation.” 

Garrus nodded, staying quiet. He watched her wipe tears out from under her eyes. 

“She said it was my decision. But that Keiji wouldn’t have wanted me to have a target on my back for the rest of my life. That he’d have wanted me to live in reality and not in the past. She was right.” 

“She has a way of being right about things,” Garrus grumbled. “It’s pretty annoying.” 

Kasumi laughed again, sniffled a little. “I got pissed at her anyway. I yelled. What does she know about what Keiji would have wanted? She doesn’t know him like I do. Nobody does,” she shook her head. “But she didn’t even get mad. She just gave me a hug and let me cry. She said she wouldn’t judge my choices. But I don’t know, Gare. It just… feels so wrong, to disappoint her. She’s so…” she trailed off, at a loss for words. 

“I know,” Garrus said, setting his glass on the table. He leaned towards her a little, trying to see if he could catch the shine of her eyes. “Look, I’m not the best guy for this kind of advice. You know where loss sent me. But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. That’s something I’m… learning lately,” he admitted gruffly. “Give yourself some time. Keep it for now. But with the intention of saying goodbye,” he watched her nod slowly, clutching her glass with two hands and rubbing her knuckles for comfort. “Work your way towards being able to let it go, and then… I dunno. Blow it up over an ocean, or something. Jettison it into a star. Make it special.” 

Kasumi smiled at him warmly. “Thanks Garrus. That sounds… nice. I’ll think about it.” She swung her legs to the floor and set her glass on the low table in front of her. 

“No thanks necessary. A turian lives to serve.”

She snorted and leaned back, crossing her arms. “Right, sure. If we’re keeping score, you owed me, anyway.” 

“How so?” Garrus asked, tilting his head curiously.

“Who do you think suggested you come with us?” She grinned devilishly. “After you shoved your foot in your mouth on Purgatory I thought maybe you could use a chance to get back in the lady’s good graces.” 

Garrus’ jaw dropped. “Uh,” he scrambled, “Kas, we’re not, I’m not, uh,” Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“Could you hear the noises the giant bug orchestra in your chest was making when Hock was all over her? And when she was all over you?” 

“You could hear that?” He asked, panicked. Most humans could tell something was playing underneath a turian’s primary vocals, but rarely could discern the difference between one tone and another. Their hearing was simply not sharp enough, their brains untrained to identify the nuances. It was something turians could often use to their advantage in interspecies engagement: a facade of emotional detachment was useful in negotiations of all kinds. 

“I’m the best thief in the galaxy, Vakarian. I’ve got a few upgrades. Understanding how people feel is important in any kind of undercover work… as you know, detective.” There was an impish sparkle to her countenance that Garrus resented. There went the one advantage to being the only turian on this ship. 

“The commander has a… a partner,” Garrus insisted, echoing the language Shepard used in their conversation on the Citadel. “He’s my friend, too. I’m not interested in getting mixed up in that. You can read whatever you want into my interactions with her, but we’re just friends. She’s important to me. I’m loyal to her. She’s… frustrating, sometimes. That’s all.” He hoped that was convincing enough. He wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince the most. 

“Sure, Gare,” Kasumi said slyly. “Whatever you say. I’ll keep your little secret. But I don’t think it needs to be kept.” 

Garrus was about to ask what she meant when the door to the room slid open and Shepard stumbled in out of breath. He stood quickly, almost dropping his drink. 

“Jane. What’s happening?” 

“Another colony is being hit. Now. I just set a course,” she gasped for breath, then locked gazes with him, her eyes filled with fear. “Garrus. It’s Kaidan.”

~~~~~~~~~ That's the end folks. Someday maybe in another ten years I'll post more lmao

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Hey Nemo! To you little aesthetics meme game I'd like to see a bit of Mathias :)

As a bonus (if you feel like it) his mother:)

Hi My dear, and welcome welcome here! :)

thank you for participating and asking me about Mathias and Ximena, I am more than happy to give you something for both of them! :D

So here you have them!

MATHIAS SÉBASTIEN DE BEAUMONT

MOODBOARD

PLAYLIST:

"Broken Vow" - Josh Groban

"Lune" - Bruno Pelletier (Notre Dame De Paris)

"Somewhere" - Within Temptation

STEAL HIS LOOK:

QUOTES :

“Courage, dear heart.” - C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” -  Emily Dickinson

“I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.” - Samwise Gamgee

HIS AESTHETIC:

The rain that falls among the leaves of the trees, the brouillard in the early hours of the morning, when the sun has not yet dawned; the gentle caress of a moth's wing against the cheek; relaxed jazz music playing in the background while cooking; the shimmer of fresh ink on parchment; sitting alone, with Notre Dame's gargoyles as sole company; ghosts and memories waltzing together, merging until they are indiscernible from one another; smudges of carbon pencil on one's fingertips; sepia and black-and-white photography, sitting at the windowsill with the moon and stars as sole companion and confidant;

XIMENA REYES MORENO

MOODBOARD

PLAYLIST:

"Sun, Moon and Stars" - Loreena McKennitt

"Spanish Guitars and Night Plazas" - Loreena McKennitt

"Lora Lie Lo" - Patty Gurdy

STEAL HER LOOK:

QUOTES :

“Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free.” - Rumi

“You must understand: they fear you. There is nothing scarier in their minds than a girl who knows the power of her flames.” - Nikita Gill

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”- Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

HER AESTHETIC:

Summer Sunsets among the Andalusian hills; the light of a bonfire, its flames rising up toward the starlit sky; the crackling of the flames; the sound of the strings of an Oud being tickled, the notes enveloping the dancers in a multitude of feelings; voices singing along, celebrating life; orange trees and their entrancing, intoxicating perfume; colorful fabrics, the cotton fresh against the skin; wicker baskets filled with ripe fruit; a lunar eclipse during a full moon; the flutter of a butterfly's wing; a black horse running free across the desert's dunes, unbridled, untamable;

[tauforged]

it’s been a while since i’ve gotten asks like that but it’s not the first time someone has come to me like “why is laz blind when you aren’t / why is rex a hard of hearing black woman when you’re a white man who isn’t (that one was years ago but i still think about it especially because they got 2/3 of their descriptors of me wrong LMFAO) and it’s like. what is this hypothetical reality you’re living in where everyone is only ‘allowed’ to have ocs that are carbon copies of themselves in background and experiences. what year is it. where are we

[wallpapers4screen]

[ipso-faculty]

Favourite autistic pride flag?

Autism Pride Day is coming up! 💛 Which autism-specific flag do you like most?

Note: I am intentionally not including flags that use a solid white infinity symbol because that belongs to the Métis (a major Indigenous group), and I think it's time the autistic community was more aware and respectful of this. I know not everybody knows about the issue so am hoping this helps spread the word 💛

I am also not including flags with solid gold backgrounds because that's an intersex flag thing. I know the goal of early autism flags was to give an alternative to Autism Speaks but I think we can do that without colonizing other minority groups' flag designs. 💛

[ebonysolcum]

The reference photo wasn’t really dark enough for this style, but it still turned out okay.

Digital drawing done in Procreate. White carbon stick on black background.

[runthepockets]

I don't think it's bad or immoral to make fun of cis people or shit talk them or whatever, they're making life a lot harder for a lot of trans people right now. But I don't think I see them as a coherent enough class with enough social capital to do it myself.

Like, whiteness is a near universal carbon copy experience for every white person. Sure there's nuances like being poor and gay and female and what have you and I'm sympathetic to that stuff, but white peoole are the primary benefiters of the very institution that has made my life and the lives of my family members and beloved childhood friends as much of a living hell as humanly possible and put very little effort into unpacking the full extent of what this actually means and how it shapes everything they do from engaging with art to dating to advocating for left wing politics, so sometimes I have very little time and patience for bullshit.

Cisness in comparison is just.....idk. I'm not gonna shit talk a guy for being born with a penis and being pretty chill with it. I don't really care. Tbh, most days I wish I was a dude who was born with a penis and just pretty chill with it. A cis white guy's experiences are also not that of a black cis guy's, or a latino cis guy's, or even a Jewish cis guy's, and again it's all very latteral and context based, unlike whiteness which is immutable and grants you material benefits, like more career opportunities even when you have an identical criminal background to the black guy standing next to you.

I'm not super into making fun of white people anymore either, tbf, I'm at a point in my life now where I just want to understand them so I stop feeling afraid of them, and maybe help them help themselves so they can stop shooting up synagogues and workplaces and churches and clubs and hypersexualizing & sexually harrassing me and my black male friends. I see things with a lot more nuance now and I have a lot more patience than I did as a teenager, and I generally found the "dissmissive hater" mindset to be pretty draining sometime two years ago, so maybe I'm just not one to Make Jokes At The Expense Of The Oppressor Class anymore in general; not cus it's immoral or cus it won't "earn us their respect and approval", or whatever, but just cus I don't find it productive or helpful anymore.

[whitelilyseo]

Vegan Tote Bags – The Eco-Friendly Fashion Trend You’ll Love

In recent years, eco-conscious fashion has surged in popularity, with more and more people opting for sustainable, cruelty-free alternatives. One of the standout trends in this movement is the rise of vegan tote bags. These stylish yet environmentally friendly accessories have quickly become a favorite among fashionistas looking to make a positive impact while still staying chic.

What Makes Vegan Tote Bags Special?

Vegan tote bags are an excellent option for anyone who wants to contribute to reducing the fashion industry’s carbon footprint. Made from plant-based or synthetic materials rather than leather, these bags avoid animal cruelty while offering durability and style. Vegan leather, often crafted from materials like polyurethane or plant-based fibers, is a sustainable alternative that mimics the look and feel of genuine leather without the environmental cost.

The versatility of vegan tote bags makes them perfect for everyday use. Whether you're running errands, heading to work, or going out for a casual lunch, these bags offer a practical, stylish solution. Available in a wide range of sizes, vegan tote bags can easily transition from day to night, making them a must-have accessory for those who value both fashion and sustainability.

Why Large Tote Bags for Women are a Game-Changer

When it comes to practicality, large tote bags for women offer the perfect balance of size and functionality. These bags provide ample space to carry all your essentials and more, making them ideal for busy days or weekend getaways. With their spacious interiors, large tote bags are perfect for carrying everything from laptops and books to groceries and makeup.

What sets large tote bags apart from other bags is their timeless appeal. They can easily complement both casual and professional outfits, providing a sophisticated touch to your wardrobe. Whether you're looking for a sleek black vegan tote or a more colorful statement piece, large tote bags can easily cater to your style preferences.

Shoulder Bags for Women: Fashion with Comfort

While tote bags are perfect for carrying bulky items, shoulder bags for women offer the convenience of hands-free wear. These bags are designed to sit comfortably on your shoulder, giving you more freedom to move. With various designs and sizes available, shoulder bags for women allow you to express your personal style while maintaining practicality.

In addition to their stylish appearance, shoulder bags are also incredibly versatile. They come in a range of materials, from vegan leather to canvas, ensuring that there's a bag for every occasion. Whether you prefer a more structured look or a relaxed, slouchy vibe, there’s a vegan shoulder bag for you.

White Lily – The Brand Behind the Trend

At White Lily, we are passionate about bringing sustainable fashion to the forefront of the industry. Inspired by the delicate and timeless beauty of the flower itself, White Lily is a feminine brand with a rich heritage in creating high-quality handbags.

Made in India with expertise and care, our vegan tote bags and shoulder bags for women are crafted with the finest materials, ensuring that every piece is both durable and stylish. With a strong export background and deep knowledge of markets like the USA and Europe, we are proud to offer a collection that seamlessly blends fashion with ethical practices.

Our commitment to sustainable fashion is reflected in our dedication to using premium, cruelty-free materials, while our handcraftsmanship celebrates the skills of local artisans. Each of our bags is not just a fashion statement but also a celebration of the art of craftsmanship and a step toward a sustainable future.

Explore White Lily's range of vegan handbags and discover how our eco-friendly products can elevate your fashion game, all while making a positive impact on the planet. Where passion for sustainable fashion meets global expertise, White Lily is the brand that helps you look good and feel good about your choices.

Join us in embracing a future where fashion meets ethics, crafted with care for a sustainable tomorrow.

[head-post]

Vandals spray anti-Israel graffiti, torch car in Australia’s largest Jewish community

Two suspects sprayed anti-Israel graffiti and set a car on fire in a Sydney suburb on Wednesday, police said, prompting “outrage” from the Australian government days after a synagogue in Melbourne was torched.

Police said they were searching for two men, believed to be teenagers, who were “cross-dressed” and were seen fleeing the scene in the early hours.

New South Wales State Police said the offenders burnt the car they were travelling in and sprayed graffiti on the burnt car, another car, two buildings and a footpath.

Footage that appeared in local media showed the phrase “Kill Israel” written in black letters on a white wall in the eastern suburb of Woollahra, which has a long-standing Jewish community.

A contractor painted over the graffiti shortly afterwards. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said:

“The incident in Sydney is outrageous and yet another anti-Semitic attack. I stand in solidarity with the Jewish community and unequivocally condemn this attack. There is no place for hatred and anti-Semitism in our country.”

The Australian leader said he would be briefed this week by a federal police task force set up to investigate anti-Semitic attacks.

The previous day, Albanese inspected the charred remains of a synagogue in Melbourne, calling on the country to unite in the face of a “vicious” arson attack.

Previous attacks

The Adat Israel synagogue was set on fire in Melbourne on the night of December 6. Two people were injured and hospitalised with signs of carbon monoxide poisoning. The premises sustained significant damage. According to the police version, the incident was anti-Semitic and occurred against the background of a significant increase in Judophobic sentiment in Australia.

Media reports say that police closed access to the synagogue, also blocking off neighbouring streets. Eyewitnesses reported that two unidentified masked men appeared outside the building at around 4 a.m. local time. After breaking a window, they broke into the room, poured petrol on it and set it on fire before fleeing.

At that time there were two people in one of the rooms, who were preparing the place for morning prayers. They called the police to report what had happened. Witnesses say the damage to the building is extensive.

Victoria Jacinta Allan, head of the Victorian state government, said the synagogue was founded in memory of the Holocaust by Jewish Holocaust survivors, mostly immigrants from Hungary. She also said she was allocating 100,000 Australian dollars for renovations. “We oppose anti-Semitism now and forever,” she added.

According to a report by the Executive Council of the Jewish Community of Australia (ECAJ), there were 2,062 acts of anti-Semitism recorded in the country between October 2023 and September 2024, four times more than a year earlier.

Read more HERE