#modern flower cuff

[neoyoujewelry]

[frodothefair]

Flowers of Chernobyl AU, Vacation Edition

Frodo: Hey Marigold, you’ve got a couple weeks free, why don’t we go to Hawaii? We can stay at a hotel with oceanside views, swim with the dolphins, see the mountains and the rainforest, eat at a nice restaurant on the beach and watch the sunset…

Marigold: *has never been on a romantic vacation with a guy — every vacation she has ever been on has been a chaotic family or friend group affair in a van* Oh, I’d love that! Can Sam come too? 

Frodo: Well, I was thinking it would be just the two of us.

Marigold: But Sam would LOVE all the exotic flowers, and the dolphins, and the rainforest. He’s wanted to go to Hawaii ever since he was little.

Frodo: *deep, internal sigh* 

Alright. Let’s make Sam’s dream come true.

*was planning to destination-propose*

*decides that if the proposal still come to pass, Sam will probably have the decency to make himself scarce and give them some alone-time*

(@konartiste)

Also, if they go to Hawaii, they totally stay here:

(image source: www.halekulani.com)

[fear-is-truth]

𝜗ϱ fiancé! + husband! 𝓟𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍 hc

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw headcanons﹒violent fantasies﹒infidelity

a/n: i would like to thank anon for requesting this and credit to dear bow anon for helping out !!

one night, as you both rode in a cab on the way to dinner, patrick takes off his walkman and suddenly asked, “have you ever thought about getting married?” his tone was casual, but his body language betrayed his tension—the tightening of his grip on his leather gloves, the unnecessary way he adjusted his tie. when you turned to him, surprised, he waved it off almost immediately. for the rest of the ride, he ignored you, listening to his walkman.

full fic : the perfect girl

weeks later, the topic re-emerged. it was a quiet morning after sex—patrick lay beside you in his perfectly starched egyptian sheets, sunlight streaming in through the windows. “would you ever consider marrying me?” he asked abruptly. the question startled you—again. you blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard correctly. “marry you?” patrick shifted slightly, propping himself up on an elbow. his face was unreadable, though his jaw tightened slightly. “yes. i’d assume it’s a reasonable consideration,” he said, as though the idea had been entirely logical. your heart fluttered despite the lack of romance in his delivery. “yes, patrick,” you said after a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i would.”

full fic : patrick’s proposal

patrick wasted no time. the next day, he presented you with a ring: an 18k rose gold cartier panthère ring, encrusted with diamond accents.

smutty drabble: jerking him off

pre-nuptial agreements (obviously)

meticulously plans every detail of your engagement and future wedding. the venue must be the right blend of modern elegance and exclusivity, the guest list is capped at “only the most important people,” and the floral arrangements must feature imported orchids flown in from singapore. no compromises.

scrutinized every decision down to the smallest detail: the font on the invitations (garamond, elegant but understated), the centerpiece arrangements (white roses only, no filler flowers), and champagne (dom pérignon, chilled to exactly 45 degrees).

patrick donned a pair of ray-ban wayfarers as the two of you arrived at the reception venue (the pierre hotel), stepping out of the rolls-royce.

your wedding dress was custom-designed at dior’s paris atelier. it was a minimalist masterpiece: a structured bodice with a square neckline, flowing into a clean, floor-length skirt with a cathedral-length train. the fabric was italian silk-mikado with a soft sheen, the epitome of elegance. no lace, no unnecessary frills—patrick deemed them “garish.” the veil was long and simple, edged with the thinnest line of swarovski crystals for just a hint of sparkle.

patrick wore a bespoke zegna tuxedo, black with peak lapels, tailored to absolute perfection. the cuffs of his shirt bore subtle platinum cufflinks engraved with your initials and the wedding date. he spent an obscene amount of time choosing the exact shade of black for the tie.

patrick stole quick glances at you, a flicker of irritation shadowing his eyes at the slight asymmetry of your smile. he stewed in his own perfectionist hell, a seething internal monologue growing increasingly deranged.

the bridal portraits was complete nightmare. after making the photographer redo them six damn times—he still found fault. he had scrutinised the angle of your neck, the curve of your jaw, the flicker of light in your eyes. in his eyes, the photos should’ve been magazine-perfect. anything less was sacrilege!

his vows were an unsettling, almost surreal monologue. a strange, disjointed stream of poetic nihilism, peppered with bizarrely intellectual references. sprinkled in lines from fromm’s the art of loving, twisting them into cryptic confessions that left everyone unsure whether he was being sincere or just… pretentious patrick.

the reception unfolded in an impossibly sleek manhattan venue. a cavernous, glass-walled space filled with patrick’s circle of high-powered cronies, along with stick-thin models who seemed more at ease snorting cocaine in dark corners than nibbling on the overpriced amuse-bouches.

the waitstaff darted around the room, terrified to stumble into discussions about stock portfolios, yacht repairs, or debates over which luxury rehab center had the best cold-press juice cleanse. conversations were a mix of shallow ambition and transactional networking.

the dining experience was an exercise in culinary pretension. dry-aged wagyu steaks with precise marbling, delicate beluga caviar that was more a statement of wealth than taste, and desserts that were too decadent (and high in calories) to exist. everything was paired with wine that cost more than most people’s annual mortgage.

the cake was a towering six-tier masterpiece from sylvia weinstock, adorned with sugar flowers so intricate they looked real. each layer featured a different flavour, from vanilla-bean sponge to passionfruit mousse.

only dom pérignon vintage 1985 was served—patrick had insisted on it. the bottles were presented on silver trays by impeccably dressed waitstaff, with glasses refilled before guests could even think about asking. patrick spent weeks debating between this and krug clos du mesnil but ultimately decided the former “sent the right message.”

during the ceremony, patrick’s bored mind slipped into violent fantasies. he imagined choking out the priest with his necktie and chopping up his groomsmen like sashimi.

despite being invited out of obligation, evelyn didn’t show. patrick hadn’t mentioned her absence until much later, casually remarking, “it was better this way.” he didn’t dwell on her, but jane—his secretary and a guest at the wedding—looked quietly heartbroken for some reason.

dancing was beneath patrick. instead, he lingered by the bar, a martini glass filled with a pristine, artful concoction he hadn’t ordered but took anyway because it fit perfectly in his hand. he’d observed the guests, mentally doing fit checks.

after the night wound down, patrick would lie naked in your hotel suite, staring at the ceiling with an unsettling stillness. his jaw clenched as his thoughts spiraled. not about the wedding itself—that was a calculated performance he’d mastered. no, he was questioning the tie. the damn zegna tie. why hadn’t he gone with the brioni?

insists you accompany him to every social gathering, but not because he wants your company. you’re his accessory, his proof of a successful relationship. he spends the evening flaunting you on his arm, introducing you to people who matter to him (read: people whose opinions validate him), and correcting your behavior if he deems it less than perfect.

his morning routine is sacred, and by extension, you’re expected to have one too. patrick buys you a shelf’s worth of high-end skincare products and insists you use them exactly as prescribed.

takes immense interest in your wardrobe. if something looks even remotely outdated or “cheap,” he’ll whisk you through fifth avenue, steering you toward hermès or dior

has a habit of buying you extravagant gifts after every argument—designer bags, clothes and jewelry. “i thought this might cheer you up,” he says, like he didn’t just shatter your nerves an hour earlier.

morning sex is first thing when you both wake up, right before his meticulously scheduled workout—his body at its peak energy. once finished, he’d kiss your forehead and disappear into the bathroom for his grooming routine.

insists on watching the patty winters show and sit you both in front of the television. you often have no choice but to endure his running commentary.

patrick has a love-hate relationship with grocery shopping. he claims it’s beneath him, but when he goes, he micromanages the process to an extreme degree—reading labels, debating brands, and spending 20 minutes in the imported cheese aisle.

your wedding photos are framed in the living room, carefully arranged in a symmetrical layout. patrick often stares at them as he works out.

his idea of romance sometimes verged on the grotesque. one evening, he decided the two of you should watch the texas chainsaw massacre together. he ends up fucking you into the couch as he enjoys the music.

not the type to be overly vulnerable, but in the privacy of your bedroom, he’d occasionally let down his guard. pillow talk with patrick is a mix of unnervingly sharp observations and random musings. he’ll ramble about the fisher account, dissect music lyrics in great detail, or comment on global events with an eerie detachment.

occasionally, he’d break the stream of words with a sudden, “you’re listening, aren’t you?”

patrick hates surprises—unless they’re from him. when your coworkers once threw you a small birthday party, he was visibly irritated the entire evening. “it was tacky,” he said flatly on the drive home. “you deserve better.”

he got you reservations at dorsia, a perfectly chosen gift (think chanel jewelry or a bvlgari clutch), and a bouquet of flowers with handwritten note that’s short, formal, and oddly impersonal: “to another year of excellence—patrick.”

patrick rarely laughs, but when he does, it’s usually at something dark or absurd. once, you tripped over a stack of magazines he left by the couch and groaned in pain. his response? a sharp, startled laugh, followed by an unconvincing, “…are you okay?”

he adores the opera—not so much for the art but for the prestige it carries. he’ll plan elaborate evenings at the metropolitan opera house, ensuring both of you were impeccably dressed. he wore a brioni tuxedo, while he’d insist on you wearing a custom-made gown from carolina herrera or oscar de la renta.

despite his outward sophistication, his attention drifted from the stage to you. hand resting lightly on your thigh, fingers tracing small circles through the fabric of your dress.

he’s absolutely neurotic about cleanliness. he’ll never leave a glass on the counter without a coaster and can’t stand an unmade bed.

hates clutter and will occasionally “edit” your belongings—quietly throwing out things he deems unnecessary, like old magazines or sentimental knickknacks, without consulting you.

micromanages household tasks. he critiques the way you load the dishwasher, fold laundry, or even stack the fridge. “this is inefficient,” he’ll say, rearranging items while you stand there, biting your tongue.

patrick has an affinity for the ritual of lighting cigars. he’ll let you hold the match for him occasionally, but only if you did it exactly right.

would only agree to a pet under duress, and even then, it would have to be something sleek and purebred. when you suggest something more practical, like a rescue, he’s visibly horrified.

when you finally get the pet, patrick is immediately jealous of the attention you give it. if the cat / dog sits on your lap during movie night, he’ll stare at it with naked dislike. “i don’t understand why you let it do that,”

patrick has an odd relationship with your pet. he’ll complain about it incessantly—“it sheds everywhere,” “it’s always underfoot”—but despite his constant bitching, you’ve caught him talking to the pet on more than one occasion. “she likes you more than me,” he mumbles bitterly. the pet tilts its head, oblivious, which irritates him further. after taking another sip of scotch, he nudges it away with his foot—not enough to hurt it in your presence.

but the true ugliness of patrick’s jealousy comes out when you’re not looking. he’ll straight up kick the poor thing or lock it out from your bedroom.

doesn’t officially cheat, but he indulges in frequent encounters with sex workers—usually in secluded, high-end hotels. these encounters, hidden from you, are his way of dealing with his violent fantasies.

afterwards, he comes back to you, his demeanor completely unaffected. he doesn’t apologize, doesn’t act like anything has changed—because, in his mind, it hasn’t. you’re still his. you always will be.

when he’s bored, he’ll ask you to try on outfits—sometimes just a simple dress, but mostly it’s something risqué. he watches you from the other side of the room with that detached gaze, silently critiquing your appearance. “it’s not quite right,” he’ll say, before giving you another outfit to try on like you’re his personal doll.

full fic : leather & lace

while patrick doesn’t outright admit his dependence on you, it’s clear in the small moments. if you’re gone for too long, he’ll call, his tone petulant as he demands your whereabouts, as though your absence disrupts his routine.

at age 27, patrick doesn’t yet feel the need to rush into parenthood, but there are times, especially while having sex, that he considers the possibility. it’s an idea that briefly excites him, but he quickly dismisses it with a wry smile, preferring the idea of you and him maintaining an image of “perfection” without the messiness of raising a child.

though you’ve never spoken about the future in concrete terms, patrick assumes you’ll always be by his side, forever wrapped in his controlling, perfectionist bubble. he doesn’t see any reason why you’d want to leave; after all, why would you when you have everything?

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[greedyhoneyz]

On Bended Knee

ೃ࿔*:･pairing: bruce wayne x reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: upon newly blossomed wings comes the season of spring, freed at last as wedding bells ring.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none.

.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: this is a modern take on bruce. like i imagine him being a major socialite (like jfk jr) in the late 90s/00s (him being so closed off from the media) and his kids (nepo babies) when they are older use social media and show off their parents for people who are curious about what bruce’s been up after his parents murder. ….or it can be hella modern like battinson or something idk 🤷🏾‍♀️

When the first day of spring bloomed, buds sprouted from beneath ageing trees and flowers sang hymns of spring’s deep soul and blessed the warm air.

April 15th. The early morning sun had peeked over the courtyard, and a pleasant breeze from the north rustled through, cooling the guests and family members as they waited in their seats, across from the walk leading to the pavilion. Flowers and white streamers decorated the bannisters, a ceremonial mixture of whites and champagne pinks.

Sweet strains of classical music fluttered through the air, tuning out the occasional conversation as the groom wadded through feelings of nausea and discomfort. He swayed on the heels of his dress shoes, his arms tightly glued to his back and nipped at his bottom lip. His careful eyes dressed the courtyard, scouring across the row of friends, family and his groomsmen before he squinted at the grand doors latched above.

The groom heaved, shifting anxiously on the heels of his feet, and pulled at the cuffs of his shirt for the fifth time that hour. He bit his lip, eyed the backyard door from afar, and mumbled a few words of prayer, interlocking his fingers together and peering up at the sky.

The bridal chorus, a vivid and light piece, began to play from the orchestra as the grand doors flew open, a wash of petals fluttering out into the air.

One by one, in a synchronised fashion, the bridal procession descended from the mansion steps towards the aisle. Flower girls, dressed in the sweetest whites, showered pink roses across the aisle as the bridesmaids, dressed in blush gowns veiled the accession of the bride with gleeful smiles.

The bride, arm in arm with her father, bared herself from behind the procession and merrily ascended across the aisle. Her gown, a princess-cut bodice encrusted with heavily laced beadwork, layered with a soft skirt flared below her veil, floating along as she waltzed, in her hands a bouquet of Stephanotis’.

She was magnificent, beguiling and alluring. All were words that floated through the depths of the groom’s head as he stood with bated breaths, gazing at her with a heavy heart and glassy eyes.

As they drew closer, the groom slowly stepped down from the pavilion and extended his arm to unravel the chain between father and daughter once the pair came to the end of the aisle. He peered at his bride with pride riddled through his eyes as her father turned and placed a longing kiss on the side of her head. He loosened her arm from around his and raised it. He set her hand in the groom’s and slowly retreated into the audience, watching with dread and contentment as the groom carefully guided her up into the pavilion.

The bridal tune faded, and the pastor stepped up to the microphone, Bible in hand. He smiled at the assembly of family and close friends and began. "Cherished family and honoured guests, I would like to thank all for coming out on this glorious day,"

The sound of his polished voice carried well from the speakers on either side of the pavilion as the pastor opened the Bible before him. "Let us begin by offering thanks to the Lord." The procession bowed their heads and the pastor began his prayer.

The groom’s eyes softened at the sight of the swooning silhouette of his bride. His bride gleamed, in awe at the pure poetry pooled within his eyes and replied with a flustered smile shadowed from beneath her veil, before fluttering her eyes shut.

“Dear Lord…”

Once the prayer had concluded, the pastor led the bride and groom through their vows. Their vows to each other expressed their tenderness and devotion to one another. And when it ended, their rings were exchanged.

Scampering across the aisle, the bride’s nephew dressed in a blue tuxedo waddled up the stairs, a pillow nestled between his tiny fingers and hurriedly handed the groom the rings before scampering off to his mother who waited expectantly at the bottom of the stairs.

With an enamoured smile across his face, the pastor turned to the groom and began. “Do you, Bruce Thomas Wayne take….as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Bruce gaped at the woman in front of him. Though her beauty was sheltered behind her veil and the glaring sunlight, he still caught a glimpse of the bashful smile that lingered on her face. “…I do.”

Twirling the ring between his fingers, Bruce grinned at his bride. He held her smooth hand, scoring his thumb across her skin and gently slid the ring onto her finger till it rested by her knuckles.

The pastor smiled and turned to the bride. “Do you…..take Bruce Thomas Wayne as your lawfully wedded husband?”

(name) giggled, flustered at Bruce’s bright stare and nodded. “I do.”

She took the ring resting in her palm and slid it onto his finger.

"By the power vested upon me, I now declare you, husband and wife." The pastor held up his hands, bringing the crowd to their feet.

"You may now kiss your bride."

Lifting her veil, Bruce gently draped the white fabric behind her head, letting it fall across her back and stared at his wife.

As their eyes met, the world seemed to fade away, the world around them forgotten. She felt his hand tenderly touch her cheek, his fingers tracing a line down her jawline.

She beamed, tilting her head ever so slightly and fluttered her lashes, luring him in with a simple, feathered whisper.

He kissed her, soft and gentle, then with a growing intensity. Their kiss was full of tenderness and passion, a dance of two souls perfect in harmony.

His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close as they found themselves castaway, the world around them ceased to exist.

Their embrace lasted for what felt like an eternity, their lips parting only for brief moments for air. They explored each other's mouths with a gentle urgency, their tongues intertwining in a dance of passion and desire.

And as they finally broke free, they peered into each other's eyes with an inviting warmth. It was a moment that would be forever remembered, a moment of softness, tenderness, passion and pure exquisite love.

[sulumuns-dootah]

26. 10. Toys - Mammon

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Helltober '24☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: The kings are here! ^^

    ༺☆༻

Everything in Tartaros is so fancy. Even the adult toy stores are so pretty, you'd think you're shopping for expensive jewellery. Just hearing your shoes clacking on the white and golden marble makes you feel like someone important. Walking through, the display cases catch your attention with the way they reflect your outfit and draw attention to the various toys made out of real precious stones and metals.

The selection of shapes, sizes and functions is already impressive, and this is only the first story out of three. Apparently this one is for the common demons, judging from the way Mammon power walks and guides you along to the opulent staircase adorned with garlands of exotic flowers and plants. At a first glance, you'd think the steps are made out of glass, but you doubt there'd be glass strong enough to handle the king's weight.

Only after making a single step on the seemingly-fragile feature, all eyes in the store are on you. All those gazes would make you uncomfortable, if you weren't already. Even with how light and spacious the building was, you'd felt claustrophobic, scared to look around to not make an accidental eye-contact with some demon. Mammon, on the other hand couldn't care less. Even walking around, he'd study the things others were holding, as if they were only on a more interesting display.

Finally arriving to the second story, after so many steps that felt like a slight workout, you find yourself in an even more opulent room. Comparing in to downstairs, this one was even more glowy with all the gold. Unlike that one, however, the walls on this floor were black with golden accents, as opposed to white and gold. The dark paint made the gold more rich and the toys lined up along the wall stood out more.

“Ah, feel free to let loose, treasure. Just make sure to find your way back to me. Once you're done exploring, we've got to try our purchases upstairs in the private rooms.” Mammon mentions to the large room leading to others with his big hand and laughs. Undoubtedly at your big-eyed expression.

You're about to ask him something, but he's already walking away in one direction and you find yourself alone. Your first few steps are unsure, anxious even. Where do you go? Some of the displays don't even look like they hold sex toys, but some modern surrealist art.

Taking a deep breath, you try to steady your nerves and start walking in a direction, your intuition tells you to.

The first room your legs lead you to has all the lingerie your heart might desire. There are many mannequins in seductive positions, wearing some of the most beautiful pieces you've seen. Maybe you could use something new, since most of your lingerie gets damaged in one way or another with the way Mammon sometimes gets impatient.

One mannequin is displaying a set of belts with small chains hanging from them and already, in your mind, you imagine yourself wearing it for the king. Your hips swaying above his lap as his large hands roam your ass, urging you to finally make contact with his throbbing length.

Just the thought alone makes excitement run down to your nether regions. Grabbing the model from a drawer nearby, you rather carry on before anyone in the room manages to sense your beginning arousal.

The next room holds various BDSM equipment and the moment you enter, your mouth can't help but fill with saliva. The selection of paddles, restraints, gags and instruments is almost overbearing and you're not sure where to start.

With how busy this room is, the only display you're able to take closer look at, is the one with cuffs said to be able to restrain even the strongest demon in Hell.

A mental image of having Mammon fully restrained and blindfolded with his legs affixed to be fully spread appears in your mind. You imagine his huge thighs trembling as a bullet vibrator massages his prostate just enough to make his mind go blank after few minutes from the lack of any other stimulation. With his sight gone he won't be able to tell your next move, until you finally, after hours of such torture, start lovingly sucking on his tip and slowly taking in more and more of his painful erection into your mouth.

Breaking out of your vivid daydream, you shake your head and subtly look around if anyone's noticed your zoned out state. You look around for the cuffs and matching restrains you've seen in the display and finally manage to locate them.

Maybe you should've taken a basket, like Mammon suggested, since your hands are starting to get a bit full to be able to inspect some other potential purchases. Eh, too late to go back downstairs now.

Moving on you enter a room, which for a change has a maroon purple wall paint, containing a more to you familiar toys and gadgets.

The highlight of this room is a display containing dildos shaped exactly as the very own 7 kings of Hell's pubic area. You're not sure if they're all fully accurate, but they surely are spot on when it comes to the king of greed.

This makes you wonder, how it would feel having two of Mammon inside you at the same time. One is already an impressive stretch, so the other one might just as well fully ruin you.

“Interested in that one, are you? I know what you are wondering, and yes, I allowed them to use my cock to make a mould for this special edition set.” a deep voice materialises next to you as two strong hands plant themselves on your hips. You jump a little bit and accidentally bump into the demon behind you. In doing so, you can't help but feel the bulge on your lower back. Seems like you're not the only one who got excited from browsing the store.

“A-are you done shopping already?”

“I am, but if you want to keep looking, I can give you some time.” Mammon straightens out from bending down to your level, “But I'd rather meet you in the private room already. You see, I've found multiple things I'd like to try on you and I'm rather restless to see your reaction.”

You look down into your hands contemplatively, whether you're happy with your haul, but then you glance back to the display.

“Hm... Okay, but grab one of these sets with you, then.” you smirk up at him.

“Already ahead of you, treasure.”

    ༺☆༻

Shhh... The prompt for tomorrow is Pegging ^^

[redr0sewrites]

HEY HEY HEY YOU LIKE GOTH TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR ALT SCENE HEAD CANONS

🥀A/n: AJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSS YESS !!!! i could talk about this for hoursss ngl-

🥀all photos are from pinterest, credit to the original creators! i did not make these ♥️

Pandora Rosier:

in my head, i see her as like a lighter version of whimsigoth. definitely leaning more on the whimsical flowery fairy vibes heavier than the goth vibes, but still with alternative aspects! she definitely decorates her hair and braids with a TON of crystals and charms!!

purples and reds, flowy dresses, chunky rings, charm belts, layered crystal jewelry, cardigans, flowy sleeves, funky tights, etc

when it comes to music, she'd be a fan of The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Cocteau Twins, Kate Bush, and Strawberry Switchblade

Dorcas Meadows:

FAIRY/SOFT GRUNGE. HEAR ME OUTTTTT

a lot of forest greens and earthy tones, basically grunge with a bit of fairycore mixed in

lots of thrifted items, heavy earth tones, arm warmers, flower patterns, crystals, maxi skirts, doc martens + mary janes, dangly earrings, etc etc

when it comes to music, i think she'd listen to Kleenex, The Violent Femmes, Cheap Trick, Red Aunts, and The Raincoats

Barty Crouch Jr:

mix between metalhead punk and scene. like think punkrock mid 70's-early 80's crossed with early 2000's scene kid, and thats him

spikes, metal, leather, lots of oversized and ripped band shirts, stripes and heavy patterns, chains, chunky boots, fishnet/sheer tops, double statement belts, heavily dyed hair, liberty spikes, thin/mini brows and smudged eyeliner, etc

when it comes to music he is ALL over the place. think Nine Inch Nails, Rob Zombie, Paramore, Green Day, Soundgarden, Death Grips, etc. think like dad rock, but throw in a few early 2000's bands as well

sortaaa think like a cross between all these- finding a photo for him was SO hard lmfao neither of these r exactly whats in my head but close enough

Evan Rosier:

similar to Barty but less scene and more dad rock/metalhead and slightly toned down. definitely more earthy tones, less hot topic energy and more thrifted/handmade energy.

also wears a lot of jewelry and crystals in his hair, shares them w pandora!

not as many bright colors and patterns, heavy layers, earthy tones, cargo pants, converse, layered jewelry/crystals, chunky belts, statement baggy pants with decals, bleached shirts, torn aviator jackets, boots, bulky sweaters layered with band tees, etc

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to Nirvana, The Doors, Type O Negative, Specimen, and the Ramones

Regulus Black:

(twitching and convulsing he is my fav)

honestly i see him as either: victorian goth, or corporate goth

he either dresses like he's possessed by a small victorian child or ebeneazor scrooge and there is no in between

very masculine, lots of ruffles, detailed vests, cuffs and long sleeves, black trousers, heeled boots, loose flowy blouses, high collars, lots of grey, white, and black, long leather overcoats, heavy layers, rings, etc

finding photos for this was like a herculean task bro it was nearly impossible and this is about as close to what i see in my head as i could get but still... not perfect *sigh*

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to Veruca Salt, Talking Heads, Clan of Xymox (TRUST HE WOULD), Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Lebanon Hanover

Sirius Black:

i know everyone and their mother believes in punk Sirius, but hear me out- mall goth Sirius Black. PELPSLSPSLSPSLSPSLSS

i feel like he dresses both masculine and feminine a lot, his gender is very fluid and so are his outfits so he isn't strictly masculine or feminine

im thinking like early 2000's hot topic kid x mid/late 80's punk, definitely very mall goth inspired but a little more modern too

wide baggy pants with chains, chunky necklaces, mismatched earrings, skeleton gloves, leather jackets with studs and decals, sheer/fishnet tops, chunky boots and doc martens, chunky rings and bracelets, bracelets with studs/spikes, kandi or beads, trashy band or skater tees, thrifted cargo pants with patches, those specific red and black striped gloves/arm warmers that every mall goth person has, etc

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to The White Stripes, David Bowie, Bon Jovi, INXS, Meat Loaf, Three Days Grace, Green Day, and the Offspring

Remus Lupin:

grunge all the way. and i don't mean like tiktok grunge, i mean genuine early-mid 80's thrifted "fuck fast fashion" grunge. i also see him having a bit of the grunge/punk academia aesthetic, but overall very grunge centric style

in my head he doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, especially since silver burns him as a werewolf, so he'll wear the occasional ring or necklace but that's about it

grandpa sweaters, oversized hoodies, cargo pants, earthy tones, brown converse or loafers, faded band tees, jorts, greys and greens, collared shirts, chunky shoes, baggy trousers with patches, bleached clothing, aviator jackets, etc

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to David Bowie (duh), The Doors, Ramones, Talking Heads, Killing Joke, U2, Journey, INXS, Abba, The Calling, and Foo Fighters

Marlene Mckinnon:

RIOT GRRL. I KNOW IM RIGHT I KNOW IT I KNOW IT I WILL DEFEND THIS TILL THE DAY I DIE SHE IS SOOO RIOT GRRL

most of riotgrrl fashion is pretty much the more "feminine" version of punk, and shares some overlap with the "rockstar gf" aesthetic (which irritates me *just* a bit but thats a story for another time). in my head, i think of like a cross between misa amane, nana, and the mid-late 80's punk scene

think layered fishnets, leg warmers, micro mini skirts, lacy lingerie, graphic tank tops, feminist patches/pins, spikes and studs, lots of leather, chains, chunky boots, cross/pentagram motifs, bold animal prints, torn band tees, high heels, bright red lipstick, and basically anything that would serve as a great big "fuck you" to misogyny and beauty standards

i had the biggest riotgrrrl phase, so let me just say i am an EXPERT on the music. marlene would listen to Bikini Kill, Babes in Toyland, Veruca Salt, X Ray Spex, The Raincoats, Paramore, Kleenex, Hole, Dazey and the Scouts, Bratmobile, Slutever, Mommy Long Legs, Le Tigre, Destroy Boys, Cheap Perfume, and Lesbian Bed Death

Mary MacDonald:

GYARU!! i totally see Mary as a gyaru girlie, idk in my head i just see her rocking the makeup and lashes along w the style !!!

i sadly don't know too much about the Gyaru scene as there are many different types, but i did a little research and i feel like Mary would dress in the Ane Gyaru aesthetic- which is (PLEASE correct me if im wrong i am not an expert!!) an older, more "rebellious" and slightly darker version of Gyaru. Ane Gyaru is often mistaken with Onee Gyaru, but is different in a few ways. Ane is more rebellious and incorporates a darker color scheme, and overall has a more rough look. definitely more alternative than cutesy in comparison to other Gyaru styles, and i feel like it fits Mary well

think flashy animal prints, miniskirts, teased hair, long lashes, detailed hand bags, fluffy boots, furry leg warmers, silver jewelry, statement belts, lots of lace, leather and denim, and lots of makeup!

i genuinely do not know anythinggg about Gyaru music and i am sosoooosososos sorry 😭 if anyone has any ideas or recommendations for bands/gyaru music they think Mary would listen to, please lmk!!!

i will do a pt 2 so that i dont reach the photo limit but!!! hope u enjoyed!!!! PLSSS SEND IN MORE MARAUDERS ERA WRITING REQS YALL IVE BEEN OBSESSED- it could be x reader or just hcs like this whatever u want🧍

my two current hyperfixations in one post... someone sedate me...

[snarky-art]

Hello, first of all I love your redesigns of the Winx Club. Second I was wondering what the medieval gowns would look like in your redesigns? Also could you please give us more info and examples of the traditional fashions of each planet please, personally I really want to know more about the Deliosian clothing!?

Gah you’re so sweet! Thank you! Amd I’m unsure which medieval gowns you’re talking about but feel free to send a picture so I can see what I think about them

And I may have gotten a little overzealous with this stuff so I’m just going to upload in chunks for each planet

We got Court Wear for Domino here as well as an example of more casual everyday wear most of the public wore

I’ve decided I’m going to be doing these as separate posts for each of them because I ended up doing waaaay more than I meant to for some of them

What’s on the pages in order for notes plus some additional info below!

Picture of Marion

Dominion Court Wear before The Fall:

Started appearing around the time Marion's grandfather ruled, mainly in the corset style and waist length. Drapery and larger poofs added next. Marion pushed for more modern trends and started making her own when she became more active in court, Earth age ~13.

Overall:

- More points and angles

- More gems

- Lower bust/neckline

- Sleeker silhouette

- Pattern work more shape based, cross stitching popular

- Larger poofs on sleeves with them ending mid arm or acting as the whole sleeve

- More upturned shoulder accents

- Lower waistline

- No arm bands to separate poofy part of sleeve from the rest of it

- More connected drapery

- Oval gems present

- Larger hairstyle and more half up half down looks

- Skirt length floor length and uniform

- Elevated heels for footwear

- Thread work less visible if not solely decorative

- Corsets more popular and more decorated

- Hip accents to exaggerate shape

- Wrap around adornment connected to corset, typically with a 3 circle motif

Picture of Hagen

More Pre Fall Wear

Style more associated with traditionally masculine appearances, but like all looks can be worn by anyone of any gender or lack of gender. Acted much more as a fusion of modern and traditional elements.

Main Staples:

- 2 piece set

- Slimmer shape

- Top ending around mid thigh

- Skin trousers visible

- Level shoulder adornments on what would be considered more traditionally masculine fits

Traditional Dominion Features:

- slimmer sleeves with decorated cuffs

- Embroidery lining sleeves

- Braids

- Longer facial hair and hair overall

- Jewel decorations holding caps

- Cape going to knees

Picture of Bloom

Traditional Dominion Fashion

For hair: up with a few pieces of hair down. Braid work, cloth pieces with gems worked into hair

For Clothes:

- shoulders pointed out, typically have line pattern embroidered into it

- gems typically in groups of 3

- Empire waistline

- Flared train on lower half with underskirts typically visible, high-low cut present, usually lined with pattern at the bottom

- Images used in pattern work

- Swirls with pointed lines

- Boots, low heels

- Delicate and intricate metal work on neck wear, typically chokers

- Upturned tip on boots

- Gems are circle or teardrop shape

- Smaller arm poofs

- Arm cuff higher up on upper arm for arm poof

- Sleeves are separate from the arm poof

- Multiple strips of loose cloth

Picture of Oritel

More Traditionally Masculine Elements for Traditional Dominion Fashion not already mentioned previously:

- Boxier shape

- Decorated arm cuffs

- Longer length arm cuffs

- More level headwear

General info on page:

- Shorter hair and beard more common among closer associated people during Marion’s court fashion

Medallion:

- worn commonly by the consort of Domino

- Used as a way to show acting as head of the main ruler of Domino

- Sent with Bloom to Earth during The Fall

- 3 points to represent power in all directions, petals to represent the flowers that grow in magic dense areas, stylized trees to represent the lush forest land Domino has

Picture of Daphne

Fusion:

- combo of traditional and Marion’s court style

- Very common for a lot of the higher class and mobility with less wealth

- Daphne’s preferred style for formal events and appearances, both pre and post-resurrection

Info on the necklace:

- a traditional neck adornment style

- Style from the very beginnings of Empire expansion

- Originally would hold gems of conquered cultures

- These gems started being returned and replaced with Dominion gems right before the fall as part of the effort for reparations on Domino’s part to start making up for its violent past

Picture of Bloom in 2 outfits:

These are some more common outfits for the people outside of the upper and noble classes. They tend to be more reminiscent of traditional Dominion wear since the newer stuff in Marion’s court wasn’t very practical for the usual day to day activities such as running errands, doing manual labor, and artisan crafts.

General rules that were mentioned earlier still apply, just typically with less elaborate pattern work and embroidery. Rarely any jewels in day to day wear. It’s more common for families to have a few gems that they share and fit into different pieces of metal work for more important events and holidays.

Notes on the page:

- corsets ending a little above the waist

- Embroidered patterns on clothes

- Peasant blouse style shirt popular

- Boots all year

Flame Acolytes:

- group that works with The Flame and are in constant worship of The Great Dragon

- Cloth all blue

- Dragon tattoos on both arms, wrapped around arm 3 times, head on palms with mouth open

- Gems are purple

- Stretched earlobes from jewelry, style varies (bonus: Saladin wears this style in honor of Domino’s passing to this day. He found it in the ruins of Domino on one of his visits back that he and others of The Company of Light as well as other scholars took to see of there was any way to salvage the people and the planet itself)

- For the dress, front and back pieces tied together on the sides

- Dress underneath it

- Shoes made of cloth, a style left over from older form of widespread foot coverings

[semisolidmind]

How does the Modern Reincarnation AU work in the Twice as Bad AU? Especially with MK and everything? I know it would probably be completely unlikely that Peaches would get the opportunity to die with her two monkey hubbies always around her, but what if her dying happened on the journey? Like her death was something that happened while the monkey demons were restrained and couldn't do anything about it, causing them to wait the couple hundred years until she pops up again?

(Also, I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for your creativity and art! You're awesome. Hope you have a great day! 💙)

oh man oh boy (also thank you skye, you're making my day :))

(so both monkeys have wrist and ankle cuffs in this au, and the cuffs work like a less harmful version of the circlets. anytime reader says a certain command, they throw the demon wearing them to the ground. i imagine that the moment reader dies, the cuffs fall off.)

it's utterly silent when they hit the ground.

the boys are distraught. they're inconsolable. theyre angry. whatever demon caused reader's death will be torn apart peice by peice, tortured until death. and then...

...nothing. the monkey demons shut down beyond an occasional terse word. they're still technically bound to the journey by the circlets and the bodhisattva's command, and so they continue on. they only speak to their companions when necessary. macaque spends most of his time in the shadows, and wukong walks behind the group. they take out their sadness and rage on the myriad demons that get in their way. the journey concludes with wukong and macaque denying their enlightenment and going home to flower fruit mountain.

their conquests become especially brutal for the next couple hundred years.

–––

centuries later, mk comes into the world. wukong finds him wandering the mountain, and adopts him as his own. macaque is an uncle figure to the boy, helping in his training and teaching a different worldview. mk grows up knowing very little about humans beyond what his monkey family tells him. regardless, he's curious and wants to know more.

the two elder monkey demons are jaded, and their resentment for the celestial realm and humanity has only grown. though, they'll both slip into wistfulnesss occasionally, telling mk about reader and what she was like. he heard plenty of stories about her growing up, and he always finds himself wishing he could have met her. it's the only time mk will hear his caretakers speak positively about a human.

when mk asks to go into the city, wukong refuses. he doesn't want his son around any mortals, and were it not for his "infinite mercy," that wretched city would be dust by now. it's only when macaque agrees to go with mk that wukong relents. macaque, who's somewhat more knowledgeable about modern humans than his brother, tells mk what he knows about how the mortal world works. mk doesn't get the chance to make his friends until later in this au, when he's allowed to make short solo excursions into the city to buy groceries.

he's taking too long on a run when it happens.

mk has encountered mei, and thinking the dragon heir was trying to start a fight (given the monkey demons' history with dragons), mk battles her. while the two have their brawl that eventually ends in tentative friendship, macaque waits at a rendezvous point.

when mk doesn't show after twenty minutes, macaque lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets out across the roof tops and alleyways to search for him. the kid, for all his strengths, has never been good at time management. after a while, macaque is able to track him to a little noodle shop in the downtown area.

the dark-furred simian watches from a nearby rooftop as mk and...a disguised dragon? girl? go inside the shop. macaque melds into the shadows, following them in through the half-shuttered doorway. the shop isn't anything to write home about; simple decor, simple noodles, a suspiciously familiar pig demon manning the kitchen, a woman managing the register—

macaque stops cold.

it only takes a second for macaque to get a read on the woman's soul. and upon closer inspection, she looks familiar too.

heartbreakingly familiar. same hair, same eyes... same smile, aimed at mk as she welcomes him. this woman—she's their reader, reincarnated. she has to be. mk makes a joke, something about monkeying around, and the girl laughs; the same joyful sound he remembers from all those centuries ago. it's the same. she's the same.

a shadowy tear makes its way down his incorporeal face. she's here. alive.

he has to tell wukong.

[stuff-i-found-while-crying]

A stage of fire and dreams (4)

inspired by @gwandas and they post: modern Neris AU where Eris is a trust fund asshole at Harvard Law, Nesta is a professional ballerina with the Boston Ballet

Finally managed to write another part! Its the Dinner!

Main Pairing: Nesta x Eris

other character: Mama and papa archeron, Elain, Feyre, an elevator boy, a waiter, and a surprise mention.

first part - Giselle I second part - red shoes I part three - Cinderella

Dinner for two

Nesta wore bright red lipstick. Her father had looked concerned. Even more so when he saw the dress she picked.

"I can pick you up, if it gets too late", he said softly from his spot in front of the TV. 

Her mother scoffed. A clear message. The later she stayed out, the better.

So Nesta put on her high boots, brushed over the skirt of her black dress and grabbed her purse.

It was just dinner. A business meeting almost.

Thats what she told herself.

At least for one night she could eat what she wanted and that was what she would do.

"You look pretty", Elain shouted from the kitchen.

Feyre appered behind her, jaw on the floor. "Are you going to dinner, or are you planning on being the dinner?"

"Fuck yourself", Nesta smiled at her. "Oh wait, thats what Rhysand is for."

Feyre almost attacked her, but Nesta just turned and left.

The car that waited for her outside was flashy. Black, clean and sharp.

Quiet like her own dress.

Before she could loose her nerves at the sight of an obvious expansive car in her poor little neighboorhood, Eris appeared.

He wore a green dinner jacket and a black button-down. Golden cuffs, golden rings and even golden buttons. His red curls crowned his head in flames. Nesta felt a spark in her chest.

"Good Evening", he said. His eyes wandered over her but no muscle in his face betrayed him. Instead he smiled at her. "You are as lovely as I remember."

Nesta snorrted. Last time they saw each other her feet had been bloody and her face had been covered in sweat.

"Thank you", she said. "Although I dont know if that is a compliment."

His grin deepend and dimples appeared. "Everything I say is a compliment, my dear."

"Then concider me sufficiantly complimented."

It was so easy.

The sparkle in his eyes, the elegance with which he opened the car door for her, his warm hand on her back.

Nesta was forgetting herself. He made her soft. And she needed to focus.

While he closed her door and rounded the car she took a deep breath.

This was just dinner.

He was a good looking man and she was allowed to enjoy herself.

Except that the voice of her mother was still in her head.

He could give you the next big role, if you play your cards right.

Then they sat in the car. And Eris looked at her.

"Before I forget again", he grapped something from the backseat, leaning close to her in the process.

Nesta smelled his collogne. Forest, was the first thing she thought of. Wildness.

His breath hit her ear for one delicious second.

Then he pulled back and layed a bouquet of flowers in her lap.

"Shall I compare thee to a flower next?", he joked.

"Please do", she said. But her fingers closed around the bouquet.

It was a lovely arrangement of dark reds and whites.

Lust and Innocence.

Elain loved flowers and had one summer annoyed them all with flower talk. Until her mother hat told her to find something more profitiable than silly plants.

But Nesta had never thought Elain silly.

Now, looking at the flowers in her lap she wondered if Eris also knew the meaning.

Her eyes found his.

He winked at her and started the car.

"Tell me your favorite flower", he demanded.

"Tulips", she said. 

"Liar."

"How would you know?"

"You are not the spring type."

She fixaded him. "Roses."

For a second his eyes found hers, than he turned his gaze back to the street. "Classy. But why do I feel like you are still hiding?"

"What is your favourite?"

"Roses."

She scoffed.

"See? Not believable."

She fought against the smile. But his lazy grin was intoxicating.

"Lillies", she said quietly. 

His face hartened for a bit but then he nodded. "Flower for the dead. Fitting for Giselle."

His hand reached for the radio. Classical Music started to play. Dramatic and a bit sad.

"Choose a channel."

Nesta pursed her lips. "I quiet enjoy this."

He chuckled. "As you wish. Keep your secrets for now."

They stopped infront of a hotel.

And there again was the voice of her mother. Anything he wants.

Her grip around the flowers tident.

"Relax", he said. "We are here for the restaurant on the top floor."

She nodded, but still avoided his gaze. A rush of heat made her look anywhere but him. In her heart she cursed her mother that she ruined this date before it even began.

But she would not give her that satisfaction.

Nesta would enjoy the date. Because his eyes burned with fire and the hand he offered her while she got out of the car was strong and warm.

He guided her through the lobby. Ignored the golden doors to the public retaurant, walked across the white marble and red carpet until they reached the elevators. More gilded doors. This Hotel even had an elevator boy, who greeted them politely and pressed the top button.

Nesta put on her best stage face. Not one glanze showed how much her feet hurt, or how she longed to check herself in the mirror to see if her hair was still in place. But when she shivered slightly, Eris immediatly noticed.

Without a word he dropped his jacket over her shoulders.

"Good thing black goes well with anything", she said.

His eyes wondered down her body again. And Again Nesta felt a spark.

"I must say, green suits you", he said. "Maybe I should have a jacket tailored for you. This is your style."

For a split second she thought of another jacket, made out of leather.

"Thank you, but I have many jackets of my own."

The elevator stopped. As the doors glided open Nesta thought she saw a tiny frown on Eris face. But when she looked again he was smiling at her.

Again he walked out of the elevator and into the restaurant as if he owned the place. He probably did. Nesta had looked up his family and was shooked to find that the Vanserra Empire was next to Velaris Enterprise, the biggest company in the state, if not the country. The only difference was that the Vanserra family was far more quiet in their business and no one knew how gib they company truly was.

The restaurant was fancy. Nesta looked for a better word but she was too overwhelmed. So much kristall and velvet and flowers.

Red mostly, with gilded tables and chairs. Royal colours for a rich family.

A Waiter came and seated them next to a Balcony with view of the entire city. They ordered quiekly, Nesta wandering how much the food would cost, since the prices weren`t even printed on the menu. But Eris was only smiling at her and asking which wine she prefered.

She was once again reminded in their differences.

"All this just for a dinner with a Ballerina?", she asked.

"Oh Ms. Archeron", his tone was playful. "Dinner is the most important meal of the day. And you are the most important dancer in my mothers favorite theater."

"Only for one play", she said.

It slipt out. But she could feel her mother breathing down her neck.

His gaze shifted. Instead of the playful glim a calculating starre took over.

"I wish I could stay on. Even as part of the Chorus", she said, her heart beating erratic. "But once you danced the Main part they would never hire you again as something else."

Without a word he pulled out his phone. Nesta straightened her back. His jacket was still over her shoulders, shielding her against the cold. Their eyes met.

He dialed a number. "Mr. Heartfelt! I am calling you in a very urgent matter. My mother has expressed again and again how much she enjoyed Nesta Archerons performance. It would be a pitty to loose such a talent, don't you think?"

Nesta was ashamed. But she gripped the hem of her skirt and said nothing. At least her mother would be happy.

Eris eyes bore into her. "And double her pay."

With that he hung up.

They sat in silence again.

"Your mother wanted you to use me, did she not?"

"Don't pretend like you don't want to use me, too!"

"Oh Dove", he leaned over the table and the spark returned to his eyes. "The only thing I want from you is to loosen up and enjoy the date. I am trying to impress you here. And you haven't even commented on the view."

"It is lovely."

"Thank you", he grinned like he had build the city just for her to look apon. "Now compliment my fashion style next."

She scuffed. But grinned too. And there was another spark in her chest. This time it caught on and she felt herself warming up.

"Green is a lovely colour", she said gently. "I have green curtains."

"No", he dramatically gasped. "It is fate then!"

And she just had to laugh.

The waiter returned with their plates. Nesta stopped laughing. There was less food on her plate then at home. Just a tiny amount of pasta.

"What is wrong?", Eris looked honestly concerned. "Did they got your order wrong?"

"No, no", she said. "It's wonderful."

At least the arrangement was. Nesta felt her stomach drop. It was screaming at her to run away and find the next Fast Food store. Anything to fill the emptyness in her.

"I should have thought of that", he said quietly.

Confused she raised her head.

"I bet dancers need more nutritions then this."

He motioned for the waiter.

"I want triple the amount…" he stopped when he saw her eyes. "make that five times the amount of pasta on a plate. And add a steak. And a salate. Anything else you wish for?"

Nesta almost cried. Eris Vanserra had a way of knowing what she needed before she was to emberrassed to ask for it.

His phone rang.

His eyes widened.

His face hardened.

"Excuse me", he said to Nesta. Then he took the call and left her alone on the table.

Nesta tried to enjoy the views.

She tried to enjoy the food on her first plate.

She even let her fingers wander over the material of his jacket. 

Nothing ignited a spark like his smile did.

When the waiter returned again, he held a container with food.

"Mr. Vanserra had to leave due to a family emergency", he explained. "But he insisted you take the food and there is a Taxi waiting for you downstairs. I will escourt you."

Her bubble burst. Of course it had been too good to be true. He had treated her like a queen for not even two hours, but Nesta had believed it.

And that was on her.

"Don't bother", she said and got up. Without a glance back she left the restaurant and took the elevator down. Out of her purse she fished her phone.

Who should she call?

Her father had offered. But then her mother would probably intervene.

Elain was too scared to drive at night.

Feyre was never an option.

That left only one.

Down in the lobby she realised that she was still wearing Eris jacket. Out of spite she decided to keep it. With one hand she brushed over the soft fabric while she dialed Cassians number.

[moonmeg]

On Instagram you resonded to a person about the Caleb lives au and you mentioned tgat this au is set in modern times and that they are all human. I'm curious: What was the reason for you to set it up in modern times and not in the 17th century in the Boiling Isles?

Oh no you misunderstand! I meant this drawing specifically is set in such a time

The person asked the question because I posted another story beforehand where I zoomed in on the flowers on the cuffs of Robyn's pants and said they were "embroidered by his younger sister because this is an AU where Calyn have a happy ending".

The actual Caleb Survives AU is not set in modern times nor is everyone a human. Caleb and Philip remain the only humans, with Robyn and his siblings being half humans.

I just sometimes like to randomly draw the peeps in a modern human world lol but it's not an AU I seriously pursue or something haha

Sorry for the misunderstanding!

[theeccentricraven]

Writemas Day 4 🦌💚❤️⛄🎅🤶🎄❄️

Welcome back anyone joining in or just reading Writemas! Thank you again @agirlandherquill for hosting this! Invitation List is here for those curious. Today I chose from the Day 4 writing prompts

I chose a tower partly because much of The Blood Cleaners takes place in a modern tower, a castle made of steel. If you'd like an idea of where Justin is going, check out my worldbuilding in 5 post This snippet is a rewrite for Draft 2.

As the tram cab approached the tram station, Justin didn’t know if he was going to enter and never return. It was said that what happened in the Steel stayed in the Steel. He and Lucio were greeted by a group of six men wearing suits. The men were well built, growing short bears, thick shoulders and thick necks. They had to be the best of the security guards of the Steel. Justin and Lucio followed them. They guided the way across the Steel’s gardens. The gardens were full of fountains, rose bushes, cherry trees, and sculptures by Corpan’s best artists. Many residents chilled out on benches. Mothers in silk dresses and fathers in suits sat by their children who played with their jacks. Justin wanted to stop and smell the flowers, but he continued on, shivering. An ornamental gate surrounded the first tower, known as the 1st West Tower. The gatekeeper opened for Justin, Lucio, and the president’s men. As Justin stepped forward, he saw something above him, drifting down. He looked up and saw one of the windows, hundreds of feet above him, was open and with a figure standing in front. From what he could make out, the figure had the shape of a young woman’s body in a fancy red dress with wavy light hair. He watched as the paper drifted and landed on the grass. It wasn’t until then that Justin noticed that the paper was folded in a shape like an arrowhead. He’d seen and heard of them before. Paper airplanes. Sometimes students made them when they were bored. He knew little about airplanes themselves, only that they were one of the constructions of the foolish ancestors that could never be reproduced in Corpa. Justin tried to peer closer at the window just as it closed. The young woman disappeared. Justin shrugged. He stepped forward to the ornamental door.  The door opened and welcomed the group. Justin stepped inside to the vast interior. The foyer was wide open with an indoor garden and signs pointing in many directions. There was a round front desk where a woman wearing the dark blue dress that was a uniform for receptionists sat. The mezzanine was spacious with stories of balconies above and a courtyard on the other side of the glass doors in front.  The president’s men guided Justin and Lucio up a stairwell. They only needed to climb two stories before they were guided to a hallway that joined with a sky bridge. Justin felt like he was walking through a crystal, staring at the gardens below his feet. When they emerged from the sky bridge, they entered a hallway with more elevators.   Justin and Lucio poured into an elevator along with six other men in suits.  The elevator dinged as it passed each story, the numbers on the floors going up. They stopped at the 30th floor. They exited out to a wide foyer with colorful sofas and potted plants. An ornamented door waited quietly in the front.  “The president’s office,” said one of the men, his voice deep and eerie. “Now, President Fidel has requested that he and Lord Justin speak alone. You’ll have to wait out here, enforcer.” “Very well.” Lucio reached for the harness cuffs around Justin’s hands. They clicked as they snapped off. Justin rubbed his wrists. He looked at the fancy door in front of him. Lucio leaned forward and spoke in his ear. “Remember, if the president harmed a kid, he would be asking for a mob that wouldn’t fear the lils. You’ll be fine.” Justin nodded and whispered, “Thanks.” Truth was, no matter how much Lucio assured him, he was nauseous and sweaty. He turned the copper knob. Justin stepped through the door. 

Tagging my mutuals: @kitty-is-writing @kitkins13 @kaylinalexanderbooks @buffythevampirelover @elizaellwrites @gioiaalbanoart @orphanheirs @pluppsauthor @cowboybrunch and open!

[sinsmockingbird]

A little different but...Here's a new headcannon topic!

"How are the cells of (Insert Sinner here) decorated?"

For the first ones, I would request for the cells of Shalom, Rahu, Garofano, Coquelic, and Sumire.

Oh! This is an interesting thought. I never really think hard about how the Sinners cells would look. But after giving it more thought and stuff, these were the ideas I had for the characters you requested and a few bonus ones.

✧ COQUELIC. Lots and lots of flowers. Her cell would look overrun (a slight exaggeration) with red and white roses and maybe a few randoms here and there. She'd have an oversized bed (but nothing extreme compared to Cabernet). It would the type of bed to be really soft and a type that you just sink down into.

✧ CORSO. Feels like a literal college boys dorm room. Nothing is in place, things are scattered across the floor, and there are definitely several giant holes in the walls from where she'd punch or kick. It's gotten to the point where the Bureau doesn't fix the holes in her cell anymore because they always reappear. Her cell looks like a tornado passed through it.

✧ GAROFANO. Decorated with a bit of flowers and she tries to give her cell a "homey" feel to it. She'd have the clothes she makes sometimes on display, at least the ones she just finished or is finishing up. She'd her sewing kit and would have a little seating area where she can read and enjoy some tea. Her cell is definitely the type to remind people of their mother's because the way it's decorated just gives off those vibes, if that makes sense.

✧ MACCHIATO. If you've ever seen a BDSM dungeon then you have seen her cell already. It holds a modern and sleek vibe to it, but then you'll be thrown off a lot but the weird things she's has decorating the place. Like bars and cuffs on the wall, hooks on furniture- you get it. Once you realize what each of these are really for, the cell will get a much different feeling.

✧ MCQUEEN. Covered to the brim in expensive paingings, sculptures, and just generally expensive and fancy stuff. Everything has a spatter of purple on it, be it the couch, bed, the walls, her desk- everything looks like she purposefully threw an open paint can at it. Also a bit egocentric because some of the art are portraits of her that she had personally commissioned for herself.

✧ PRICILLA. Besides the obvious stolen stuff of jewelry, paintings, and gems, her cell is decorated in a sporatic way. It has a little bit of everything mixed around about it. A different flavor of colors, culture, furniture, and all stuff like that. It feels like you walk into a museum.

✧ RAHU. Her cell is pretty simple and very minimalistic. I can see her not really decorating it at all and keeping it relatively the same as it was when she first came to the Bureau. She's got a bed, a desk, a dresser, and the basics. If anything she'd probably decorate it only a little if her partner got her something. She'd definitely want to put it on display.

✧ SHALOM. Pretty militaristic as well, but not to the degree of Rahu. She'd throw in a modern feel and pieces. For the most part she tries to keep things simple and in check. Everything has a place and nothing is ever put of place, though if something were to be, she'd notice it right away and fix it. Her cell kinda makes you not want to enter or touch anything because it's just so well kept.

✧ SUMIRE. Her cell would remind anyone of a garden. She doesn't have an overgrow of plants, but she does have a variety of flowers that she maintains very well. She'd have a perfect place to lay her katana upon where anyone can see it, a little sitting area and also a place to practice her swordplay when needed. Her bed is a bit small and kept in the corner and out of the way of everything else.

[purrmoon]

🌙 lore: courting

While the rules of courting aren’t as structured and rigid as they used to be, many still go through the old traditions. (Though, even then, the steps are often flexible and will bleed together.)

Traditionally, an alpha will court a beta or omega, while a male beta will court a female beta, and either beta sex will court an omega. In modern times, these are more flexible, and also include alpha/alpha and omega/omega pairings.

Step 1: Gifting. Gifts have always been a good way to show how well you can take care of and/or provide for a potential mate—something which soothes a mate’s instincts. Gifts are also a good way to show how well you know a potential mate. Offering a starting gift is the best way to open a courtship, though gifts are given throughout the courtship. Example gift ideas:

Food. This is an especially good “first” gift. Homemade food and purchased food are both good. Homemade proves skill in the kitchen and the ability to “care for” your mate. Purchased food proves wealth, and satisfies a “gathering” instinct. A meal satisfies provider instinct. Desserts or candy prove wealth.

Scent-marked clothing or fabric. Another good “early” gift. This can be a good way to get courting intentions across clearly, as giving food can be more nebulous.

Flowers. Flowers can be hit or miss, especially if the giftee has a sensitive nose. However, they’re a wonderful way of showing your partner is on your mind.

Jewelry. Not everyone appreciates jewelry, but they make wonderful expressions of wealth and ability to provide. Things like keychains and cufflinks are considered more “practical,” while earrings, bracelets, rings, and necklaces are more “frivolous.” Some might offer jewelry with the gifter’s name, preferred color, or symbol as a show of possession. Some enjoy this, others don’t.

Nesting materials, such as soft blankets, nest padding, stuffed toys, or comfortable clothing. Nesting materials should usually be reserved for a bit further into courting as its seen as more intimate. A scent-marked pillowcase or blanket is considered especially intimate, and as a declaration of “getting serious.”

Step 2: Scenting. Deliberately scenting one another, not just sharing scented articles of clothing or accidentally co-mingling scents by spending a lot of time together, is a very big step.

Step 3: Meeting the pack. Assuming the mating isn’t arranged, or they aren’t following rigid tradition (where the Alpha or Beta would ask permission to court the Beta or Omega), once the two are comfortable with one another, it’s time to meet the family. This can be done all at once, or in pieces—though, if the latter, it’s wisest to start with the Pack Omega.

Step 4: Collaring. Some couples skip this step, or substitute collars with something else—like matching wrist cuffs. (A wrist cuff could also match the collar, and is a popular practice as well.) Collaring is a simple way of declaring the seriousness of a relationship, and staking a claim in a way that satisfies more primal instincts.

Step 5: Sharing a nest. Letting someone in your nest is a show of trust and intimacy, as doing so means getting their scent in a place you sleep / spend a lot of time. Packmates are known to share nests often enough, and letting a new packmate in your nest is a show of acceptance. Its the same for courting.

Step 6: Sharing a cycle, if applicable. Spending a heat / rut with your partner is usually the next big step. It’s an expression of vulnerability and trust, whether the cycle is fertile or not.

Step 7: Building a nest together. This is the penultimate step, and declares intent to matebond. Old nests are taken apart and combined for the couple to share from then onward.

Step 8: Bonding. A matebond is formed by biting the scent gland hard enough to draw blood. The mark will always scar. Generally this is done during a fertile cycle (preferably while synced), as this lessons the pain. However, modern medicine has brought with it a spray that can lightly numb the area, if the couple prefers. A matebond is deeper than the usual packbond, allowing the couple to sense each other’s emotions across a larger distance.

Bonding is often accompanied by a ceremony, either before or after. Some couples also choose to sign a marriage license—and others eschew bonding entirely, choosing only to marry.

[tiger-moran]

Be Gay Do Crimes

For Pride month, my modern day AU Professor James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran

(Explanations for some of the details under the cut)

Some of the details are unfortunately not going to show firstly since I had to make the pic smaller than the original anyway and secondly since I think uploading it here has wrecked the quality even further, however...

The plants/flowers are from Victorian flower language/floral code of which there are multiple versions but the ones I've used here are ferns (sincerity), ivy (fidelity), maidenhair fern (discretion) and white tuberose (dangerous pleasure)

The handkerchief on Moran's left arm is a nod to the gay men's 'hanky code'. Orange worn on the left side = [up for] anything. Also for Moriarty, a grey handkerchief worn on the left side can mean 'master' or 'bondage - top'

Moriarty's outfit is in the asexual flag colours - black suit, grey handkerchief and tie, white shirt, purple waistcoat. But additionally the aromantic flag features two shades of green with black, grey and white, so add in the colours of his buttonhole and you also get the aro flag colours. His buttonhole itself is a green carnation, famously a symbol associated with gay men in the Victorian era which was popularised by Oscar Wilde.

A collar with a locked padlock on it can be an indication that the person wearing it is a submissive who is 'owned' by or committed to a Dominant. Moriarty of course is the one holding the keys.

Moran's wrist cuff is partly a kinky thing though this is based on my WIP novel where Moran tends to wear things around his wrists for another reason too but I'm not going to spoil what that reason is.

The badges/pins/patches on Moran's jacket are mostly for industrial/alternative artists - Cabaret Voltaire, Skinny Puppy, Coil, Throbbing Gristle (also a slang term for an erection, which I'm sure would amuse Moran no end), Front 242, Einstürzende Neubauten, Killing Joke. The red badge on his left pocket says 'Discipline' which is a song by Throbbing Gristle but it definitely has a double meaning here. The badge at the top on his left side is for Coil but is also a chaos star or symbol of chaos. The three colour badge on his left pocket is of course the bi flag colours (as is his hair). The one next to that is the cover art for Coil's album Love's Secret Domain. If you look up the art in full size you might see why Moran would probably be amused by that cover in particular.

The larger badge on his right side says 'Be Gay Do Crimes' which I'm sure is a sentiment they can both get behind, even though technically Moran is bisexual. And his trans flag badge says 'Protect trans lives' on it. Neither of them are trans but I totally believe they would support and stand up for trans people.

Moran's shirt says 'Memento Mori' on it - Latin for 'remember you must die'. Skulls are a common image in Memento Mori artwork.

Moran's silver ring features Elder Futhark runes, for reasons

And the dog's name is Tyger; the spelling is based on the Blake poem. Tyger is a very good boy who supports queer people.

[cruelfeline]

Today, after rigorous testing guided by the hand of modern science, we are able to answer the age-old question: how would Cuff wear a flower crown?

The result? Like this:

Disclaimer: no vambraces were harmed in the pursuit of scientific advancement. All vambraces were gently polished after enduring the indignity of touching grass. All vambraces were thoroughly examined for insects post-trial and were found to be free of unwanted passengers. All vambraces were assured that they were big, scary demons and good birbs during and after all trials.

[the-golden-comet]

What is Operation: Relations about?

What's is your favorite thing about it?

Hi @wyked-ao3 !! Thank you for the ask. Some tea for your stay 🫖✨

Operation: Relations is a modern day cops and robbers. The protagonist is a cat burglar (profession) that is preparing for a grand heist in a museum (think like, stealing a priceless diamond [@reservoirreputation may like this one]). He’s got a team of criminals that will help him, the field man, carry out the operation.

But it CAN’T be that easy, oh no no no. For you see, his rival, the Antagonist, is a security guard at said museum who has…. on several occasions….tried to catch the disguised masked aficionado protagonist. The protag sees it as playful, while the antagonist is actually trying to put the burglar away and lock him up….like actually doing his job.

During the day time, however, both live pretty normal lives. The protag is trying to remain inconspicuous (He doesn’t want to get caught after all). He runs into the antagonist who, hilariously, has no clue that the protag is his rival without the disguise. Protag tries his best to avoid the antag in fear that that the antag is gonna find out that he’s the cat burglar, but the antag is insistent on them hanging out and….eventually…. dating.

This leads to hilarious hijinx where the protag is freaking out and flustered whenever hanging out with the antag. Meanwhile the antag is doing his best trying to impress the protag. Oh and the antag security officer is this burly, scary looking dude…so add a few more points to intimidation (especially up close—Protag would NEVER get that close to Antag while they’re both “on the clock,” so to speak)

I think my favorite thing about it is the Protag getting cutely flustered around the Antag, and trying SO HARD to put him down gently, but the Antag is just a giant softie when he’s not working. And like gets protag flowers and takes him out to dinner and shit. Meanwhile the Protagonist is internally freaking out because “if only Antag knew who I was. It’ll go from him handing me flowers and being sweet to pinning me on the ground and slapping cuffs on me while yelling my Miranda Rights in my face.”