#plucking the perfect one that fits your standards

[tomato-soup-whore]

i truly think that apple picking is the closest i’m gonna get to being a vampire in this life

[lonelym00n]

It's (sometimes) okay to trust a stranger

Sam Carpenter x Hicks!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Sixteen year old Sam just needs a friend. Despite the odds, she finds one in you.

A/N: this was supposed to be short but for some reason I couldn't stop myself from making it longer. hope u enjoy anyways!

Harshly slamming your front door shut, you stomped towards your car, hopped in, and quickly started the engine. Your chest was heaving up and down furiously and you could feel tears uselessly streaming down your cheeks. In one last fit of anger, you pounded your clenched fists into the steering wheel. Your temporary breakdown is interrupted at the sight of the front door swinging back open, your mom striding quickly towards you. You move faster than her, shifting the car into reverse and flying into the street without a care in the world. 

You hear your mom scream your name as you shift back into drive and absolutely floor it, cruising carelessly into the slowly darkening night. Hopefully she noticed you were going well above the speed limit, you knew it would piss her off even more if she did. 

Reaching one hand up towards your face, you angrily swipe the tears away before clicking the radio on. The volume is unnecessarily loud, just how you like it. 

As you aimlessly drive, you’re finally able to catch your breath and get a grip on your raging emotions. Deep down you know you had no right to be as mad as you are, but you were just so frustrated with your mother’s behavior lately. She expected you to be so perfect and happy and a ray of fucking sunshine all the time and trying to live up to her high standards had you so exhausted. It didn’t help that she constantly compared you to your younger brother, who she so clearly favored.

Tears welled up in your eyes for the second time and you let them fall. You felt hopeless and defeated. Worst of all, there was nothing you could do to make yourself feel better. You could only accept your fate and lay in the bed that was made for you. 

You pull into an empty parking lot, hug your knees tight to your chest, and force yourself to recall the fight between you and your mother. 

***

You sat in your room, humming along to the music you had idly playing in the background. After finishing all of your homework, you had decided to paint your nails. It was something that you found to be oddly relaxing and it had become a form of self-care for you. 

Before you could open up the bottle of nail polish, a knock sounded at your door. “Come in,” you called. 

The small form of your eleven year-old brother, Wes, peeked into your room. “Mommy says it’s time for dinner.” He grins toothily at you, “She got sushi!”

Though sushi was more of his favorite food than it was yours, you smiled brightly for the boy’s sake. “Mm yum” you hummed, “Race ya to the kitchen.”

He laughed as you took off, sprinting down the stairs and skidding to a halt just in front of the dining room. Before you could even begin to situate yourself at the table, your mom’s overly sweet voice broke your inner peace, “Y/N,” she scolded, “No running down the stairs. You or Wesley could easily get hurt.”

Wes apologized, a small frown on his chubby face. You, however, remained silent and clenched your jaw in irritation. Of course within seconds of her being home, she had already found a way to put a stop to your relaxed state.

She handed out the sushi and you all dug into your respective meals. She and Wes chatted about his day at school while you kept to yourself, deciding instead to scroll mindlessly through your phone. Seeing a particular funny post of Kirby’s, you couldn’t stop the light chuckle from sliding out of your mouth.

Your mother tutted and reached across the table to pluck your phone from your hands. “No phones at the table.”

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, instead choosing to divert your attention to your nails, noting that they would need to be filed before you applied the polish. 

Your mom turned her attention away from Wes and onto you. “So,” she spoke, sounding extremely cheerful, “How’s school going for you, honey?” 

You sighed before responding, “Okay, I guess. Lots of assignments this week so that sucks, but I guess it’s fine since there aren’t any exams.”

She seemed pleased by your response and bit into another piece of sushi. Just as you were about to turn back to your own meal, she spoke again, “Who do you hang around with these days?” 

You groaned internally, knowing by her tone that nothing good could come out of this conversation. Leave it to Deputy Judy to try and police who you decided to hang out with. You scratched your neck before answering, “Mostly just Kirby these days. Other than her I keep to myself.” 

Her eyebrows raised at your answer before she shook her head. You did roll your eyes this time. “What mom? Go ahead, explain to me what the problem with Kirby is.” 

Needless to say, you were annoyed. She never approved of who you were friends with and wasn’t afraid to tell you exactly what she thought of them. “Well,” she spoke indignantly, “To start, the girl has broken about ten different driving laws. She’s constantly participating in underage drinking and has helped Jill Roberts sneak out of her house on several different occasions. She’s a terrible influence, sweetie, and from what I’ve heard, her parents are almost never home. That’s always a bad sign.”

You huffed and raked your hands through your hair in frustration. “Seriously? It’s Jill’s own choice to sneak out and that has nothing to do with Kirby. All you really have on her is that she’s a shit driver.”

Judy gasped and she raised a scolding finger up at you. “You watch your mouth around your brother, young lady. Bet you learned that awful language from her.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at your mom’s audacity. “Jesus mom, Kirby’s not the only teenager that swears, you’re so obnoxious sometimes.”

“That’s it!” She stood up and stomped her foot on the ground. “You aren’t allowed to be friends with her anymore!” 

You jumped out of your seat and let out a hysterical laugh at her crazy behavior, “Seriously!? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound?”

“You better quit while you’re ahead missy.”

You scoffed, the anger coursing through your brain making you feel very bold, “You know what mom? I’m not gonna quit while I’m ahead. I’m sick of you trying to decide who I can and can’t be friends with!” Your lip curled up in defiance and you decided to continue, “You always do this. You always try to put yourself in charge of who I hang out with! I’m done with it. It really pisses me off.”

She looked shocked at your outburst but you didn’t care. She refused to listen to you when you talked calmly so if you had to raise your voice to finally get your point across to her, you would do so gladly. “I don’t know where this behavior is coming from Y/N Hicks but I expect an apology right now.”

You laughed loudly at her words. “No! You know what mom, I’ll tell you where this behavior is coming from. I have no friends because of you! No one at school invites me anywhere because they only see me as the deputy’s nark daughter. And the people who do hang out with me? They all leave!” You threw your arms up in the air wildly, “They either leave because you bust their party or because you force me to push them away!” 

At this point your face is bright red as the words spew out of your mouth. You feel frustrated enough to explode. Little Wes sits in his chair, completely silent as he watches the two of you argue.

Your mom speaks up, tone quiet in that way that means you have most certainly crossed a line, “I’m keeping this phone.” She waves your phone in front of you and you want to double over and scream loud enough to shake the whole house. Clearly she hadn’t cared about a word you said.

“Good! I don’t need it anyways!” You trudge over to the entryway and throw your coat over your shoulders, hearing your keys jingle in your pocket at the erratic action. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” She yells from the dining room. 

“Anywhere but here!” With that, you fling yourself out of the house.

***

Your tears have diminished to sniffles at this point. Part of you feels broken and you don’t know what you’re supposed to do to fix it. 

Lost in the crooning sound of the radio and your racing thoughts, you don’t notice the figure creeping towards your car. 

The sudden tap at your window causes you to let out a terrified shriek. Your knee knocks into the horn as you twist towards the source of the tapping noise and you scream even louder at the powerful beep that rings out into the dead of night..  

Your chest rises raggedly as you hesitantly trail your eyes up the figure that looms outside your window. The panic that took over your body calms slightly as you realize that it’s just a girl. You do feel a bit nervous as you recognize the girl to be Samantha Carpenter because even though you were mad at your mom, it doesn’t escape your mind that she had incessantly warned you to stay away from the girl standing outside your car.

She doesn’t look like she’s going to harm you now, with the amused twinkle that sparkles in her brown eyes, so you roll down the window and chuckle awkwardly, “Um hi?”

A teasing smirk stretches across her face, “Hello there. Didn’t mean to scare you half to death.”

You try not to blush at the reference to your moment of panic. “No, don't worry about it, you didn’t.”

She gives you a look that says you’re full of shit but smiles despite the fact. “So,” she draws out lazily, “What brings you here at this time of night?” 

It’s then that you notice the hazy look that’s in her eyes and with what your mother had told you about the girl, you note that she’s probably under the influence of some kind of drug right now. “Uh,” you struggle for a cool sounding response before lamely gesturing around. “Same as you.” You resist the urge to facepalm as your retort comes out as more of a question than a straight response.

She huffs out a laugh and something inside of you flutters at the sound. She cocks an eyebrow at you, “Oh really? So you mean to tell me the deputy’s daughter is out here high off her ass from whatever drug she had managed to scrounge up for the night?”

Your eyes widen comically, but a grin makes its way across your face regardless. “Yup.”

Samantha seems to find your act kind of funny and you internally cheer and congratulate yourself, before mentally sighing at just how corny you are. 

The lanky girl walks around to the other side of your car and motions for you to unlock the door. Curiously, you do. She quickly steps inside, making a small noise of approval at the warmth she’s provided. It’s then that you notice that she hadn’t been wearing a jacket, her (very) muscular arms completely bare in the black tank top that stretches across her form. Dumbly, you fish out your favorite jacket from the backseat and wordlessly offer it to her. She looks at it with interest but leans up to put it on anyways. You think you imagined it, but for a split second you swear her tan cheeks darken slightly.

She clears her throat and the charged atmosphere that had filled the car moments ago disappears with the action. “Clearly I know who you are, Y/N Hicks, so tell me, why would Judy Hicks’ daughter allow a complete stranger into her car?”

You think for a moment but shrug, “Some company is actually just what I needed right now.” She nods in understanding and you continue, this time bearing the teasing smirk on your own face, “Plus, you’re not the only one with a trick up their sleeve. I know who you are too, Samantha.”

A cheshire grin spreads across her mouth. You think it suits her. “Oh yeah? Mommy told you about me then?” You nod and she barks out a laugh, “All bad things, I hope.”

You chuckle at the mirth that has appeared in her expression. “Most certainly all bad things. I swear that’s all Judy Hicks is capable of seeing.”

She seems to pick up on the heaviness of her tone and you wonder if the drug she has taken has given her some heightened sense of perception. “Things don’t seem to be all perfect in paradise.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Sam smiles but it looks more like a grimace, “Believe me, I do.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. You wonder what exactly happened to Sam to lead her down this path, but you know better than to ask. Despite your mother’s constant warnings, you find that Sam is actually really refreshing to hang around. She sees the world for what it really is, cold and lonely. It’s a nice change of pace to what you’re used to being around.

The peaceful atmosphere is broken as she reaches into her pocket and fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She waits for a beat, anticipating you to chastise her, and looks pleasantly surprised when you don’t speak a word. Your eyes remain locked together as she places the stick into her mouth, rolls the window down, and leisurely lights the cigarette. 

After she takes a long drag, she looks at you curiously. “Y’know you’re nothing like what I thought you’d be.” You motion for her to continue and she does after a short moment, “I figured you’d be a cheery brat like your mom and that you wouldn’t even give someone like me the time of day.”

The last bit of her sentence causes a sad pang to vibrate through your chest. You frown and give her a soft look, “Someone like you? You seem really nice Sam.” She looks at you like you’ve grown three heads, clearly not believing you. “I’m serious,” you say gently, “you must be such a strong person to keep pushing through whatever it is you’re going through. I don’t know you that well, but I know enough to be able to tell that you’re a good person.”

Her eyes brim with tears and she doesn’t even flinch as they spill down her face. Her cigarette, now forgotten, falls from the hand that had been dangling out the window and onto the uneven pavement below. You pull her towards you into a tight hug. After a while of her sobbing softly into your shoulder, she pushes away slightly to meet your eyes. Your heart breaks at how small she sounds when she whispers a tiny thank you up at you. 

You brush the hair out of her eyes and lightly thread your fingers through it. She melts into the contact and you want to cry at how adorable she is. 

The two of you sit like that for what feels like hours, but is more than likely just a few minutes. 

She finally pulls away from you completely and settles back into your passenger seat. Her smirk reappears and you smile at the sight. “Drive. There’s someplace I want to show you.”

You’d known the girl for all of five seconds yet you could already tell that you’d likely do whatever she asked of you, your mother’s opinion be damned. If she had asked you to climb up the rooftop of an abandoned building, you’d likely say yes. And if she had asked you to stay with her up on that same rooftop for the rest of the night, you’d probably (definitely) agree. And if, when the sky began to display a mixture of pink and orange tones, she shyly asked if she could kiss you, you’d press your lips softly to hers in a heartbeat.

Bonus A/N: I've never written a flashback before so I really hope that part turned out okay :)

[dubhdove156]

Rant post:

I take major issue with a lot of modern psychology.

For starters, the standardization of the mind is dangerous. The mind itself is abstract, poorly defined, and next to impossible to measure. Yet the foundations of psychology were based in what a "healthy mind" is -- that is, an ideal mind. The reality is that the brain is the most complex structure in the known universe, and there is no one universal, perfect mind. Every mind is different, and modern schools of psychology have mostly become methods of enforcing societal and cultural norms. Not only marginalizing, but stigmatizing and demonizing minds that don't fit this ideal, yet none do, neurotypicals are just those who could adapt well enough to social/cultural expectations to meet some criteria of normalcy.

I don't deny that many disorders are distressing, but we have to understand and accept that much of that distress would subside if neurodivergent people didn't have to live up to the absurd expectations of a society which is progressing at an exponential rate.

For example, 3000 years ago, if someone were sick, they'd visit their village priest or medicine-man. 70 years ago, you'd call up your local family doctor directly for a visit. Today you have to call an office, speak to a stranger who will have no further impact on your life, schedule an appointment in a week, sit in a waiting room for an hour with a dozen other strangers, have your appointment, then be told that your insurance can't cover this particular appointment and you owe money.

Humans were never meant to have social interaction outside of their immediate community -- you pass more people in any given day than your ancestors did in a lifetime.

Yet when you tell your therapist that calling your doctor's office to schedule an appointment causes anxiety, they tell you that you're the problem, that you're ill, that your fears are irrational.

You know what I see? When I see someone cutting themselves, I see a relation to a bird plucking its own feathers out due to stress. Yet these psychologists blame the fucking bird when it's been locked in its cage for 3 months. The bird isn't sick, the bird isn't wrong or irrational to react that way to a distressing environment. The problem isn't the bird, the problem is the cage.

Look at it objectively: children are killing themselves every day, and we just all accept that they couldn't handle the pressure of the world. They aren't sick; the disease isn't depression, anxiety, PTSD, OCD, etc, they're symptoms of a society that doesn't forgive those who can't keep up.

I am 25 years old, and in my time I have seen more world events, technological advancements, social progress, etc than any of my ancestors could ever imagine. I don't believe I'm wrong to have ASPD, instead I think that it's a very rational result of and reaction to a world built upon our worsening suffering.

[rafent]

Alear trailed behind the Fell Dragon like a duckling would with its mother but instead of seeking for a nurturing soul she was searching for the perfect opportunity to stop him to talk. As he turned towards an empty hall her pace picked up, with a little jog she now stood in front of him.

"Happy birthday!" She chirped, lifting folded fabric higher than the box on her other hand. With a quick swing of her arm the clothing unfolded showing a black dressing shirt with a golden trim, the neck of it had a simple diamond design on each side—the Divine Dragon thought it would suit him nicely. Maybe not a shirt he could wear everyday but for a special occasion it would be perfect. "I saw this shirt while looking for gifts and i immediately thought of you. I'm not an expert in fashion but i believe it's your style, right?"

But that wasn't all! She had a special gift for him, one that would surely make him smile, even if a little.

Alear placed the shirt on his shoulder, and brought the box to his hands. A proud hum as she stepped a little closer as if inviting to open in. Inside of it was a little batch of chocolates, all way sweeter than she would like but perfectly fitting to Rafal's tastes. "I hope you like these chocolates, i made them myself."

She was no cook, her experience behind a fire or using a knife was none but Rafal—even if not the one standing before her—made confections for her and she thought it fitting to put the same effort in return.

But it didn't feel right to wish him a happy birthday, hand him these presents and leave, she had to do one last thing. The dragon wrapped her arms around him, giving him a warm hug before stepping back. "You know Rafal? You may have made many mistakes in the past but you're sweeter than you think. I like you a lot."

Beaming, a Fell Dragon spoke to another one last sentence. "I hope you have many wonderful birthdays today and all these years ahead and i hope to be there to celebrate them all as friends."

Rafal's anniversary of birth was not spectacular. It hardly inspired any special emotions toward one end or another. Not any longer. If once he cursed his origins, embittered by the unjust fate that spelled a failure like himself into existence, now there was only his dispassion - even his forgetfulness for a date and a celebration long lost to time. But as always there would be one who would act in direct reversal to that which Rafal bespoke and believed.

Behind him the Divine One's footsteps sounded. A familiar presence presaged first and foremost by the most surprising of words. 'Happy birthday?' he nearly echoed, gazing on in fixed wonder - unable to divert his wide eyes from the gifts extended. A silken ebony shirt well-matched to his standard fashion; baked chocolates, clogging the air with sweetness even at a cursory whiff; these items conceived with particular mind paid toward his satisfaction.

"You put thought to what I would like. Produced from those considerations offerings and even labor. And now intend to give them to me." Statement. Fact. Disbelief. Then, a rumbling laugh that was not hostile. He reached into the box and plucked from it a single piece for tasting. Acceptable to the eye, the lacquer-like surface had cooled with slight ridges. "Very well. Let us observe the fruits yielded by those efforts."

Words of a bitter prophecy. Chewing amounted only to attempting. The chocolate though appropriately sweet was so hard he initially assumed it to be a black pebble she'd concocted instead. With notable effort and a heavily worked jaw eventually he could swallow; only the kindness of her gesture curbed what stinging extremes might have otherwise followed.

". . .There is no doubt that you are more consumer than producer, Divine One." To stop there at that objective statement was a rare act of mercy, but even if he wished to say more a throw of arms halted his thoughts. He froze with uncertainty at the embrace and - as the other dragon drew away - looked down instinctively to ensure that his disgusting chocolates had not been damaged during the contact. An awkward cough diverted from possible notice toward the strange fixation.

"I would warn you that your kindness is better dealt to one more deserving." Crimson eyes directed sideways, thumbs grazing over the box wistfully; a minuscule smile born in the shadow of these acts. "—but today it is appreciated. Thank you."

[raitrolling]

The Mighty Fall

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

It had been some time since Viltau last caught up with Belamy - at least a perigee, to be exact. Their lunches used to be every couple nights, then weekly, then every second week and so on. The tyrianblood had all the free time in the world, nothing but the occasional high society events to make an appearance at for a couple hours, or at times he would have students to tutor who would only last a few lessons until either they quit or he dropped them. The indigoblood, on the other hand, had been busier than ever: There was the whole debacle with Eichio and his lusus, a quick job providing the catering for another seadweller’s Fleet induction party, attending Velour’s fitting sessions for his 12th Perigee Ball suit, and all the time he has been spending with one of his other friends recently.

A friend Belamy loathed to hear about. His only friend has apparently decided that a midblood’s company was better than his. A cigarette-smoking overgrown tub of grease of a troll, who should’ve hardly been worth the indigoblood’s time. And yet, there Viltau was, chatting away about his current scheme about - literally who the fuck cares - with stars in eyes, enchanted by his own delusions of having some semblance of taste. Just looking at him made the tea in Belamy’s cup taste positively bitter.

“Viltau, with all due respect,” the tyrian interrupted, with a syrupy passive-aggressive tone that implied he had no respect to give at all, “I’d rather break my hands a second time than have to hear about your fuckugly boytoy yet again. Don’t you have any interesting conversation for once?”

He took a sip of his too-bitter tea, and Viltau paused mid-sentence. Then, without missing a beat, the indigo continued:

“Oh, I thought you enjoyed listening to other people’s romantic endeavours?”

Belamy spat out his drink.

Viltau covered his mouth with his hand, traces of a toothy grin visible between his fingers. With his other hand, he plucked a napkin off the table to offer to his friend. Belamy squinted at him suspiciously, unable to tell if the indigo was deliberately trying to disgust him for his own entertainment, and snatched the napkin out of his hands.

“Wow, and here I was, under the impression you despised being a clown! How did this change of heart occur so suddenly, helium fumes from blowing up balloons have gone to your head? A festering head wound clogged by a bucket’s worth of hair gel? Early onset dementia?”

Viltau resisted the urge to roll his eyes, using the side of his fork to cut a piece of cake from the larger slice on his dessert plate and then popping it into his mouth.

“Hardly. I can assure you that I am perfectly mentally sane, actually.”

“There is nothing sane about eating out the gutter! Have some class, Viltau. Honestly, courting a lowblood? I thought you were better than that.” The tyrian smirked.

“And I knew that you were not. A shame, truly, perhaps you would enjoy yourself more if you didn’t limit yourself to such a tiny box, no? To be obsessed with highblood romance, but only approving of same-caste relationships while also despising other seadwellers. Truly, which one of us is the insane one?” Viltau spoke calmly, and did not look up from the cake on his plate.

“It is called having standards, which I was under the impression you had. But, I suppose you seem hell-bent on disappointing me as much as possible. I don’t know why I bother!” Belamy shrugged. “And, besides, I am not so desperate for any sort of meaningful relationship that I would kowtow to any fat slob who called me pretty.”

He looked over the indigo, saw how much of that slice of cake had disappeared between sentences, and clapped his hand to his mouth in mock recognition.

“Ohhh! That’s it! You wanted someone to make you feel less guilty whenever you pack on the pounds! That makes perfect sense!” Belamy grinned, fully aware of the pure venom in Viltau’s glare.

The indigo’s grip on his fork switched to one perfect for stabbing, as a warning. His expression was calm as usual, but there was nothing but rage behind that smile. They both knew how sensitive Viltau was about his weight, which was precisely why Belamy went for the lowest-hanging fruit. A reminder of how easily the lower-blooded troll could be put in his place. Viltau also knew of how easy of a potshot that comment was, and knew that he had to be the bigger man. He’ll have to let it slide.

“Ah, you have quite the wild imagination! It’s a shame your hands no longer work like they’re supposed to, I think you would have done well as a fantasy author. Although, with your obsession with other people’s weight you may end up attracting the wrong type of crowd, no?”

Well, he could settle for being only slightly less venomous with his words. Just as Belamy could never truly hide his bitterness, Viltau was not immune to firing back those same remarks out of spite.

“Says the chubby chaser.” The seadweller calmly sipped at the remainder of his drink, emanating a decidedly smug aura.

There was silence, except for the sound of Viltau returning the plate with a quarter of the cake left to the table, the fine china clinking against the surface.

“I think we are quite done here, actually.”

The rage was once again building up in the pit of his stomach, and while his facial expression stayed the same the look in his eyes was now seething.  

Belamy was unfazed.

“Aw, did my little joke hurt your soft little heart? Has little doughboy Espino finally developed genuine emotions? I never thought I’d see the day! A shame they’re wasted on defending someone with pond scum coursing through their veins.” He rested his head in one hand casually, looking over at his conversational partner in amusement.

“I said, we are quite done here.” Viltau’s grip on the fork tightened, knuckles whitening. “Yes, you are quite correct, I have no issue with someone’s caste or appearance, which may be rather shocking to someone as self-centered as yourself. The problem does not lie with me, but with you. And, personally, I think it’s rather pathetic that you care so much, and about a troll you have met scant few times, no less!”

The tyrian had honestly not expected his friend to get so worked up over this, and his smirk turned into a full-on sneer.

“Oh please, Viltau. As if you have never judged anyone based on appearance alone. I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I was friends with the Patron Saint of Tolerance!” Belamy stood up so he could tower over the other troll, looking down at him. “But, if you truly wish to ditch me over some gutter trash, so be it! You’re certain to regret it later.”

“Am I?” The indigoblood also rose from his seat, although his head barely reached Belamy’s shoulder. Hardly an imposing figure, even with the fork still firmly in his hand. “Actually, if I am to be perfectly honest, spending time with my so-called ‘gutter trash’ friend made me realise something. I don’t need to tolerate your company. In fact, I don’t need you at all.”

He narrowed his eyes.

Belamy laughed out loud, and then realised he was serious.

“Excuse me? I didn’t need you, you needed me. You’ll be without a loyal client, and who is to say I won’t start badmouthing you to dissuade others from seeking your services? Parties are hardly a lucrative business, anyone could pull off a half-decent event!”

“Hah! As if that will stop me!” Now it was Viltau’s turn to smirk. Did Belamy really consider that a threat? Did he truly know him? “I built up my contacts and client base from nothing, and I am perfectly content to do it again. And I will certainly find someone more appreciative of my craft than someone who chases an impossible standard of perfection to make up for their own failures!”

“Just as you are giving up any royal taking you seriously pouring your heart over a slovenly midblood?”

“Better a slovenly midblood than the deadbeat seadweller in front of me. Only one of these has a bright future ahead of them-”

Smack.

Viltau staggered sidewards slightly from the force of the seadweller’s slap, pressing his hand to the now bright-indigo handprint on his face. Of course, he should have known Belamy would get violent, the music tutor had a reputation for beating the students who failed to meet his standards. But to assault him over the threat of ending an already-precarious friendship seemed almost absurd, especially when he took all the times Viltau had stabbed him over uncalled for remarks in stride.

Did this friendship mean much more to Belamy than it did Viltau? The look of pure fury and betrayal present on his face seemed to suggest as much. It would almost be funny that it took this long for it to click with the seadweller if it wasn’t so sad. Yet another troll lost to his own bitterness and inability to let go of whatever scraps of superiority he still had.

The realisation was not lost on Belamy either. Viltau was right, it was pathetic that he cared so much about his friend loving a damned tealblood instead of a proper highblood. It was not his business at all, but the fact that someone below him both in status and appearance could be loved when he was not angered him beyond all reason. It wasn’t even a matter of him having any feelings for the indigo either, that never crossed his mind once. He thought he’d found an equal, someone so close to his ideal of perfection but just kept missing the mark, and if he’d just pushed him in the right direction he could have lived vicariously through the indigoblood’s successes that he helped perfect.  

Instead, Viltau glared at him, and silently made a lunge with the fork in his hand. And instead, Belamy made a grab for a knife on the table - the knife Viltau had used to cut himself a slice of cake, to be exact.

Neither trolls were trained in combat, but where Belamy lacked in experience, he made up for with his precise aim.

The fork pierced through his shirt, barely piercing his flesh. Belamy winced from the pain, but his reaction paled in comparison to Viltau’s. The indigoblood’s eyes widened and he grit his teeth to prevent a grunt from escaping his mouth, and he looked down to find a knife buried into his side, with Belamy’s hand still grasping around the handle.

The seadweller yanked out the blade with a slight twist of the wrist, and Viltau gasped and dropped to his knees, clutching at the now-opened wound as indigo blood began to pour out. In the heat of the moment, he neglected taking his pistol out of his strife deck in favour of making a mad grab for any other cutlery left on the table - a fatal mistake. Fueled by both rage and adrenaline, Belamy saw the perfect form of revenge: Driving the knife into Viltau’s hand with enough force to keep it pinned to the table.

Belamy was silent as his now-former friend yelled out in pain, the indigoblood unable to move lest he risk further damage to his hand and needing to use his remaining hand to press against his other stab wound to feebly prevent himself from bleeding out too quickly. He cursed in a manner unlike his usual gentlemanly self, sweeps of vocal training failing to prevent his natural rough accent from slipping out. When he stared up at Belamy, pain in his eyes, he could not get a read on the tyrian’s expression. The seadweller’s adrenaline had worn off, the rage had subsided, and all that remained was a bitter emptiness that pervaded whenever he could no longer keep up his passive-aggressive front.

But then the two saw that glimpse past one another’s facade, that peek into their real feelings, and clammed back up. They exchanged defiant looks at one another, Belamy smirked, and Viltau attempted to smile through the obvious pain.

“Well, now you know that’s what happens when you toss your friends away like a subpar dessert! Don’t come crying back to me once you get bored of your ‘romantic endeavour’ and have no more toys to play with. You’re the one who ditched me, remember that.” Belamy’s tone was back to its usual sickly sweetness, yet dripping with aggression.

Viltau had no further words to say. Belamy gave him one last glare, then rounded the dining table to make his way to the front door.

“Good luck!” With a wave of his hand as if saying a cheerful farewell to a friend, he left the indigoblood to bleed out.  

[millennialskin]

How to Help Innocent Overpluck Brow Victims of the 90s

Eyebrow trends have evolved significantly over the decades, and we all have our own brow journeys. One trend that stands out is the era of overplucked brows, a fashion statement that dominated the beauty scene during the 1990s and early 2000s. For those who followed this trend, the quest for ultra-thin brows often led to excessive tweezing, waxing, and threading. Looking back, we may laugh at our youthful beauty experiments, but the effects of the overpluck can be long-lasting and challenging to reverse. Whether you’re looking to restore your brows to their former glory or simply curious about this nostalgic trend, this blog post will offer valuable insights and tips to help you navigate your brow journey.

The Trend of the Brow Overpluck

Time Period of the Overpluck Trend

The trend of overplucking eyebrows reached its peak during the 1990s and early 2000s. This era was marked by a fascination with ultra-thin, highly arched brows, a look that was in stark contrast to the fuller, more natural brows seen in previous decades. The shift towards minimalistic brows was influenced by fashion, music, and pop culture, which collectively embraced and promoted this distinct aesthetic.

Fashion and Beauty Standards

The beauty standards of the 1990s and early 2000s emphasized sleekness and minimalism, which extended to eyebrow grooming. The look was all about precision and creating a clean, sculpted appearance. Thin brows were seen as sophisticated and edgy, fitting perfectly with the decade’s grunge and later, the Y2K aesthetic.

Makeup tutorials and beauty magazines of the time provided tips and techniques for achieving the perfect thin brow. This often involved frequent tweezing, waxing, and even shaving to maintain the desired shape. Eyebrow stencils and brow pencils became essential tools for achieving symmetry and definition.

Influences of the Overpluck

Celebrities and cultural icons played a significant role in popularizing the overplucked brow trend. Stars like Gwen Stefani, Christina Aguilera, and Pamela Anderson were often seen sporting pencil-thin brows, which quickly became the epitome of style. These influential figures were frequently featured in magazines, music videos, and red carpet events, setting beauty standards that many tried to emulate. The fashion industry also embraced the trend, with runway models and editorial spreads showcasing thin, meticulously groomed brows.

The Popularity of DIY Grooming

The accessibility of tweezers and at-home waxing kits made it easy for people to groom their brows themselves. This DIY approach contributed to the widespread adoption of the overplucked brow look. Many individuals took to over-tweezing without fully understanding the long-term consequences, which often included thinning of the brows and potential damage to hair follicles.

Facts About the Overpluck

Scientific Insights

Scientific studies have shown that repeated trauma to hair follicles, such as that caused by overplucking, can lead to changes in the follicle’s structure and function. The anagen phase, or growth phase, of the hair cycle can become shorter, while the telogen phase, or resting phase, can become prolonged. This imbalance disrupts the natural growth cycle, making it difficult for brows to recover fully.

Impact on Hair Follicles

Overplucking can have a significant impact on hair follicles, potentially causing long-term damage. Each hair follicle contains a root from which the hair grows, and repeated plucking can weaken or damage these follicles. When a hair is plucked, it can disrupt the growth cycle, leading to thinner, weaker hairs that may grow back more slowly or not at all. In some cases, repeated trauma to the hair follicles can lead to permanent hair loss in the affected areas.

Long-Term Effects

The long-term effects of overplucking can include sparse, uneven, and patchy eyebrows. As hair follicles become damaged, the regrowth process slows down, and in some cases, hairs may stop growing altogether. This can result in permanent thinning of the eyebrows. Additionally, overplucking can cause the skin around the eyebrows to become more sensitive and prone to irritation. The constant pulling and tugging can lead to inflammation and even scarring, which further affects the appearance and health of the brows.

Aging and Hormonal Factors

Aging and hormonal changes can exacerbate the effects of overplucking. As we age, hair growth naturally slows down, and hair follicles become less productive. Hormonal fluctuations, such as those experienced during pregnancy, menopause, or due to certain medical conditions, can also impact hair growth. For those who overplucked their brows in their youth, these natural changes can make it even more challenging to regain fuller eyebrows later in life.

How to Regrow Brows After the Overpluck

Here are some effective strategies to help encourage eyebrow growth and restore their natural fullness:

Patience and Consistency

Regrowing eyebrows takes time. Hair growth cycles are slow, and it may take several months to see noticeable improvements. It’s important to remain patient and consistent with your care routine. Avoid the temptation to pluck or shape your brows during this period to allow the hair follicles to recover and grow freely. Consistency in applying growth-promoting products and maintaining a healthy lifestyle will support your journey to fuller brows.

Brow Serums and Oils

Using brow serums and oils can significantly promote hair growth by providing essential nutrients and creating a conducive environment for follicles. Look for these key ingredients in products:

Peptides: Peptides are short chains of amino acids that serve as the building blocks of proteins like keratin, essential for hair growth. They stimulate hair follicles to produce thicker, stronger hair and improve blood circulation to these follicles, enhancing nutrient delivery.

Biotin: Also known as vitamin B7, biotin plays a critical role in keratin production. It helps fortify the hair shaft, reducing breakage. A deficiency in biotin can lead to thinning hair, so supplementation can help promote healthier, thicker brows.

Castor Oil: Rich in ricinoleic acid, castor oil has anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial properties. It nourishes hair follicles and enhances blood flow, promoting healthier and faster hair growth. The fatty acids in castor oil also provide deep moisturization, preventing dryness and breakage.

Vitamin E: As a powerful antioxidant, vitamin E protects hair follicles from damage caused by free radicals. It supports healthy hair growth by maintaining a healthy scalp and reducing oxidative stress. Vitamin E also enhances blood circulation, vital for nourishing hair follicles and promoting regrowth.

Hyaluronic Acid: Known for its exceptional hydrating properties, hyaluronic acid helps retain moisture in the skin and hair. By maintaining proper hydration, hyaluronic acid ensures that the environment around the hair follicles is conducive to healthy hair development.

Product Recommendation: RevitaBrow Advanced Eyebrow Conditioner Serum contains peptides, biotin, and other nutrients that support hair growth. It conditions and strengthens brows, leading to a fuller and thicker appearance.

Product Recommendation: Castor Oil is rich in fatty acids and vitamin E. Apply a small amount to your brows before bed using a clean spoolie brush.

Follicle Stimulation Techniques

Stimulating blood flow to the hair follicles can significantly promote eyebrow growth. Gently massaging your brows with your fingers or using a soft toothbrush can enhance circulation, delivering essential nutrients and oxygen to the hair follicles. Increased blood flow supports healthier, stronger hair growth by providing the necessary building blocks for new hair. This simple yet effective technique can be incorporated into your daily routine. For best results, consider using natural oils like castor or coconut oil during the massage, as these oils nourish the hair follicles and enhance the overall growth process. Consistent stimulation and nourishment can lead to fuller, healthier brows over time.

Product Recommendation: A gua sha tool can be used to gently massage the brow area, improving blood flow and promoting hair growth.

Avoid Harsh Chemicals

When regrowing your brows, it’s crucial to stay away from products that contain harsh chemicals or alcohol. These ingredients can irritate the skin, damage hair follicles, and hinder hair growth. Instead, opt for natural and gentle skincare products that nurture your brows and support their healthy regrowth. Here’s why you should avoid harsh chemicals in your regrowth phase: 

Skin Irritation: Harsh chemicals, such as sulfates and parabens, can strip the skin of its natural oils, leading to dryness and irritation. This can create an unhealthy environment for hair follicles, making it difficult for brow hairs to grow.

Damage to Hair Follicles: Strong chemicals can penetrate the skin and damage hair follicles, resulting in weaker hair growth or even preventing new hairs from emerging.

Long-term Effects: Continuous use of products with harsh chemicals can lead to chronic skin conditions, such as eczema or contact dermatitis. This prolonged irritation can severely impede the ability of your brows to regrow healthily.

Product Recommendation: Mineral Fusion Retractable Brow Pencil is made with natural ingredients, including castor oil and vitamin E, and can help you shape and fill in your brows without causing irritation.

Healthy Diet

A balanced diet rich in vitamins and minerals is essential for hair growth. Nutrients like biotin, vitamin E, vitamin A, and omega-3 fatty acids play a crucial role in maintaining healthy hair.

Foods to Include:

Biotin: Eggs, almonds, sweet potatoes

Vitamin E: Spinach, avocados, sunflower seeds

Vitamin A: Carrots, sweet potatoes, kale

Omega-3 Fatty Acids: Salmon, walnuts, chia seeds

Consider taking a hair, skin, and nails supplement if you find it challenging to get these nutrients through diet alone. Supplements can help ensure you are getting the necessary vitamins and minerals to support hair growth.

Hydration

Keeping your body and skin hydrated is essential for hair health. Drinking plenty of water throughout the day ensures your hair follicles receive the necessary nutrients and moisture to promote growth. Additionally, using a hydrating facial mist keeps your skin fresh and supports the overall health of your scalp and hair. Proper hydration helps maintain the elasticity and strength of your hair, reducing breakage and promoting a healthy shine.

Product Recommendation: Heritage Store Rosewater & Glycerin Hydrating Facial Mist provides hydration and helps maintain the skin’s moisture balance, supporting healthy hair growth.

Proper Grooming

While regrowing your brows, it’s important to avoid overplucking or excessive grooming. Keep your brows clean and moisturized to support healthy growth. Use a gentle cleanser and apply a moisturizer to keep the skin hydrated.

Product Recommendation: Applying a small amount of Vaseline to your brows can lock in moisture and create a protective barrier, helping to support healthy growth.

Professional Help

If your brows are severely overplucked and not showing signs of regrowth, consider consulting a dermatologist or a brow specialist. They can offer professional treatments and advice tailored to your needs.

Treatment Options:

Microblading: A semi-permanent technique where pigment is implanted into the skin to create the appearance of fuller brows.

PRP Therapy: Platelet-rich plasma therapy involves injecting your own platelets into the brow area to stimulate hair growth.

Fiction About the Overpluck

Myth 1: The Brow Overpluck Means Brows Will Never Grow Back

Reality: One of the most pervasive myths about overplucking is that once you’ve overplucked your eyebrows, they will never grow back. While it is true that overplucking can damage hair follicles and slow down the regrowth process, it doesn’t necessarily mean permanent loss. Many people have successfully regrown their brows with patience and the right care. The key is to stop overplucking and allow the hair growth cycle to resume naturally. Using growth-promoting products and maintaining a healthy diet can also aid in the regrowth process.

Myth 2: Shaving Brows Makes Them Grow Back Thicker

Reality: Another common myth is that shaving your eyebrows will cause them to grow back thicker and darker. This belief likely stems from the fact that when hair is cut at the surface (as with shaving), it can appear blunt and thicker as it grows back. However, shaving does not affect the hair follicle or the actual growth process. The hair will grow back with the same thickness and color as before. Shaving can also increase the risk of irritation and ingrown hairs, which can complicate the regrowth process.

Myth 3: Eyebrow Pencils and Powders Can Cause Hair Loss

Reality: Some people believe that using eyebrow makeup, such as pencils, powders, or gels, can lead to hair loss. In reality, these products are designed to be safe for use on the skin and hair. Proper application and gentle removal are key to avoiding irritation. It’s essential to remove makeup thoroughly at the end of the day to prevent product buildup and skin issues, but the use of eyebrow cosmetics does not inherently cause hair loss.

Myth 4: Plucking Gray Brow Hairs Causes More Gray Hairs to Grow

Reality: A common misconception is that plucking gray hairs will cause more gray hairs to grow in their place. The appearance of gray hairs is due to a reduction in melanin production within the hair follicle, which is influenced by genetics and aging, not by plucking. Pulling out gray hairs can damage the follicles and potentially lead to sparse areas, but it won’t affect the color of the new growth. It’s better to trim or use eyebrow dye to manage gray hairs without damaging the follicles.

Myth 5: Natural Oils Alone Can Fully Fix the Overpluck

Reality: While natural oils such as castor oil, coconut oil, and olive oil can help condition the hair and skin, and may promote healthier growth, they are not a magic cure for overplucked brows. These oils can provide nourishment and improve the overall condition of the hair and skin, but significant regrowth often requires a combination of proper care, patience, and sometimes, medical-grade treatments. Using growth serums with scientifically proven ingredients like peptides and vitamins can enhance the regrowth process more effectively.

Conclusion

Regrowing overplucked eyebrows is not an overnight process, but with patience, dedication, and the right approach, you can restore your brows. The journey to regrowth requires a combination of methods, including using effective brow serums and oils, maintaining a nutritious diet rich in essential vitamins and minerals, and practicing gentle grooming techniques.

Ultimately, the key to regrowing overplucked brows lies in patience and consistency. Embrace the journey and allow your brows the time they need to recover and flourish. By following the tips and recommendations outlined in this blog post, you can achieve the desired results and enjoy the confidence that comes with well-groomed, naturally full eyebrows.

[thegothicarchitecture]

HELLMODE - Jeff Rosenstock

More Jeff songs, same signature stock 🍲

I continue getting the same impression that Jeff Rosenstock is sticking to a sound he knows will work for him. Not to say that his schtick is getting old, as he still finds new and inventive ways to surprise listeners on every release, but each subsequent release feels more like an additional helping of the same, once perfected dish.

Personally I don't ever expect Jeff to top WORRY., a flawless album in my eyes with the best B Side medley since Abbey Road. Following this, POST- had one of my favorite songs of the decade with the closing track "Let Them Win," a despondent and half-defeated rallying cry which encapsulated the feelings of most Americans coping with Trump's electoral victory in the 2016 election. While I don't make my album reviews political, Jeff Rosenstock has a lot of opinions on the matter, and one of his strongest talents is his ability to write clever lyrics with biting socio-political commentary.

So does his knack for clever lyricism carry over into this release?

Yes and no.

For one, I'm disappointed by how lackluster and vague his political commentary is this time around. FUTURE IS DUMB and I WANNA BE WRONG bring nothing new to the table that he hasn't said better in the past. However, I'm also surprised by how unflinchingly raw and personal his best lyrics are on HELLMODE, with lines that make me wonder if he is having serious marital and mental health problems.

This is no more apparent than on the opener WILL U STILL U, which sounds as if Jeff is admitting something horrible that will eventually come to light and ruin his relationship. LIFE ADMIN feels like an apology song directly to the same person in the aftermath of said event, with some of Jeff's best lyrics showcasing his penchant for circular simplicity ("Might go to the desert 'cause I make enough to fuck off to the desert") and specific details that put you firmly in his World of boba and vinyl records. HEALMODE pushes you into his World even further, with gently plucked acoustic guitar and lyrics as intimate as this musical backdrop. This track details a beautiful little story about staying in during the rain, with detailed descriptions of the sticking pine needles and fog that make you want to nestle up with the person you love most.

As a minor drawback, the songs themselves can often feel like rehashed leftovers of previous releases (FUTURE IS DUMB sounds like a Frankenstein hybrid of Melba and I Did Something Weird Last Night) or complete misses like HEAD. However, some of Jeff's best songs show up on this release. LIKED YOU BETTER is a fun and energetic song that's begging to be belted out at a karaoke night with a group of friends (nobody else would know it but fuck it'd be fun!). DOUBT is a sleeper favorite for me, a song I wasn't fond of when I first heard it as a single but one that fits perfectly in the album's tracklist. Also the message about speaking when you lose your voice is applicable to me as more than just a metaphor, as freezing up is one of the scariest experiences that I'm sure people like Jeff are all too familiar with. And for somebody who's been feeling crippling doubt and anxiety since around the time We Cool? came out, I've always gravitated towards Jeff's music.

In summation, this won't convert Jeff Rosenstock haters into fans. What we have here is a collection of great tracks with a few okay ones, on a project that doesn't quite meet the standards set by a string of perfect or near perfect albums in Jeff's discography

Highlights: LIKED U BETTER, DOUBT, HEALMODE, LIFE ADMIN

✮ ✮ ✮ (Very Good)

[prettyboykatsuki]

i hope grad goes well tmrw ari!!! how about kiri + 11:11?

♡ [ kirishima eijirou + 11:11am ] ♡ ― kirishima has always had a thing for oddities. an affection for things that are, by nature, out of place or that don’t fit. if he were adopting a dog - it’s almost a guarantee that he’d pick the runt of the litter. 

he feels for the leaf on the tree that’s still green in autumn or the worm that gets abandoned on the sidewalk after a rainstorm or the duckling that lost his mothers lead. kirishima is empathetic by nature in this way and emphatically expresses his feelings for these with a clenched hand over his heart and a pained look in his eye. maybe a single manly tear. 

it’s to say he’s always looking for things that don’t fit. old puzzle pieces. left over greeting cards. dvds with different movies than the cover. he enjoys the idea of looking after things long abandoned - relates maybe a little too much to the idea that something can still be meaningful after it is left behind. 

it’s not really something he does on purpose. there’s just a certain magnetism - a tension between kirishima and the misfit. if his friendship with bakugou kastsuki is anything to go by - he understands them better than people like deku. he’s not good with natural go-getters and optimists. 

meeting you, naturally, was a result of his magnetism to things that seem misplaced. not to say you’re not good the way you are - you are. you’re perfect in his eyes but you are indeed, unlike the rest. an oddity among rows and rows of benign standards that you just don’t fit all the way. his gravitation towards you is really, only natural. was original only friendly. 

but his affection for you, of the romantic kind, occurs to him in front of a convenience store on a mid-morning walk. it’s too early to be eating the kind of food you’ve decided to grab but you have a nefarious smile on your face. he’s willing to bet it’s not worth it to argue you against you, so he laughs instead.

“your water, kind sir” ― you hand the water bottle to him before opening your own drink and chugging ― “damn that’s good,” 

“i bet,” is all he can manage to say. the sun is hiding just barely behind the clouds but the sky is casted in a shadow. it’s a comforting light - not too bright or too dark but perfect for an early morning. there are dandelions blowing in cracks between the concrete - another oddity among the rest. green that splits the grey like a strike of lightning through a marble counter. 

kirishima watches with softened eyes as you pluck it from where it stands and blow - eyes screwed tight like this wish has everything standing on it. the seeds fly, some in your hair and face with the breeze but most in the patchy areas of grass and beyond. 

your face lights up as you look at him. 

“oh wait! wait here kiri, i’ll find you one!!” ― and just like that you’re off, racing around the parking lot to find him a dandelion. you’re an oddity, this much kirishima knows as fact - but, you’re his favorite kind. 

[writing-in-april]

Made to Match

Frankie Morales x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader can’t stop stealing Frankie’s hat.

A/N: Hey everyone- this is my sixteenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!!!! This is just a very fluffy sweet little fic I wrote for Frankie 😌 Side note- I wanted to thank everyone for being so kind after my last post ranting about my emotional breakdown today, thank you- so much it means a lot. Feel free to leave me an anon about anything here- I love hearing from people about anything (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Frankie gets a little frisky by gettinbf close to grabbing Reader’s ass & one or two swear words

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.5k

“You can’t keep stealing my hat!” Frankie shouted at you as you ran away from him with his hat perched on your head. All you did was giggle and scurry away faster.

You ran into your shared bedroom, looking around frantically for a quick place to hide. Realistically you knew Frankie would find you in a heartbeat, he had been trained to track stealthier people throughout his career. You were definitely no challenge considering you couldn’t even keep your mouth shut and stop laughing.

It was funny to see him pretend to get mad each time you’d pluck it off of his head, even though the look in his eyes showed how much he liked it.

The quickest place to hide was in the closet you both shared, choosing to hide in between both of your racks of hanging clothes. You posited that he might not check here, both of you preferred wearing the more casual clothes folded neatly in the dresser. The only thing Frankie regularly wore that was in here was a few of his nice flannels that he didn’t want getting creases in. He was never in here, so he wouldn’t think to check here

It was quiet, definitely too quiet. You bit your lip while holding your breath, afraid that he might somehow hear you. The silence was tense, your mind over analyzing every small noise you heard.

A small creak from the floorboards made you tense up even more, you were sure Frankie was close. That was soon after confirmed to you by a loud shout to scare you out of your hiding place, “Boo!”

Even though you had known he was close you still couldn’t help but let out a short scream, adrenaline now coursing through your veins as a result of being startled. Your shout dissolved back into laughter that infected the room once your mind fully processed that it was only Frankie. He pulled you out from the rack with a gentle grip on your wrist, starting to tickle your sides as soon as you emerged. The sounds of each other's laughter were addicting to both you and Frankie. You did have to eventually beg when tears came to your eyes, “I yield! You can have your hat back!”

He popped it off your head, plopping it back down where it belonged on his head. You draw your lips into the biggest pout you could manage, though you weren’t actually upset of course. It was fun to pull Frankie’s leg even if he knew you were pretending right off the bat.

“But- I look the best in it.” Frankie’s look on his face told you that your fake pout and dramatic words weren't swaying him at all.

“I don’t disagree with you. But, it’s still mine,” He teased, “Besides, mine is too big on you, you need one that fits better.”

—-

Frankie’s passing comment about getting you a baseball cap for yourself hadn’t stuck with you for very long, certainly not 2 months after. You had stolen his hat many times since then, it was too fun not too.

It was the furthest thing from your mind as you filled out some meaningless paperwork at your kitchen table. You were getting bored to tears, filling in blanks that basically just repeated the same information over and over again until you reached the end. You audibly sighed in relief when Frankie came in through the front door, back from work for the evening.

He set down his truck keys on the kitchen table, carefully avoiding revealing something he obviously was holding behind his back. He hadn’t said anything to you yet besides a simple greeting and telling you he missed you. Instead, deciding to stand, patiently waiting for you to finish what you were doing.

“What are you doing?” You questioned not bothering to finish the paperwork for now, standing up as he rocked back on his heels .

“I- Umm have something for you…” He pushed a package in your hand that he had been hiding behind his back after his admission. When he handed you his pocket knife to open the package you tore into it, carefully of course, in case it was something fragile. In the box held a hat, one that looked suspiciously similar to the one sat on his head. You pulled it out of the box, inspecting it in your hands, realizing it was an exact match for his.

“You got this for me?” You squeaked and he nodded in return, while you flipped it over in your hands, looking at every inch. It had a similar patch on the front that had the same ‘Standard Heating & Oil’ on the front. At first looking at it you thought he might have gotten it custom made for you, until you realized it was well loved just as his was. Well, maybe not as much considering Frankie’s hat had fallen apart at the seams until you had fixed it with some new stitching. It must have taken a while to track down a real one with the exact same logo as his. Your curiosity was peaked so you asked, “Where did you get this?”

He shifted his eyes back and forth, getting a little nervous that you might not like it. He did eventually find the words to tell you, “I was looking on um- EBay for one and then I happened to find one at a thrift store while looking for new flannels.”

“I- I love it, thank you so much baby.” You gasped in excitement and leaned forward to press a kiss to his burning cheeks. Something about it being made at a similar time as his made it all the more special, glad that Frankie was blessed with serendipity.

Frankie then shyly asked, “Can I put it on you?”

Almost immediately you answered, “Yes!” Frankie still looked rather bashful at your response, tugging his own cap down before grabbing your new one. Something about you being excited for his little gifts always seemed to make him extremely bashful, like he felt he didn’t deserve your praise. You made it your mission to change that each time he added to the list of little things that made you love him even more.

“This one will fit better on you than mine.” Your eyes went soft, the gesture so sweet that you suddenly wanted to cry for some reason. Frankie was always a very sweet man, each time he did something like this your heart melted into a puddle on the floor no matter how many times he’s done it.

He takes the bill of your new hat and places it on your head, swatting your hands away when you move to push it down so he could do it himself. The hat fits perfectly on your head, almost so perfect that you wouldn’t be surprised if Frankie had measured your head while you were sleeping and adjusted it accordingly. He tapped the top of the bill once while looking down at you with his own hat snug on his head making you giggle.

Moving his hands again to now smooth over the tops of your shoulders he inspected the fit of it with a smile. “It looks perfect- you look perfect.”

Bringing your lips to Frankie’s you then gave him a soft kiss while cupping his scratchy cheeks. It was slightly awkward to maneuver the bills of your caps to be able to have your lips meet properly, the corners of Frankie’s eyes crinkling in amusement as you huffed trying to adjust your mouth on his. You did eventually find the perfect angle to tilt both of your heads without bonking the curved bills together.

Sighing into the kiss, Frankie reciprocated, deepening it a little bit more. His hands were always wandering, trailing down from your shoulders to the small of your back, low enough that he was almost grabbing your ass. You couldn’t seem to stop giggling, something that Frankie loved, even while kissing.

���What are you doing?” You repeated your question from earlier, much more teasingly this time while his hand travelled down further.

“Nothing…” The way the pitch in his voice rose you could tell that was a lie. You quirked your eyebrow up at him in question, silently calling him a liar. He withered underneath your gaze and admitted, “Alright- maybe it’s something but, you just look so good in your hat.”

Teasing him was almost too easy sometimes, you could get him to be flustered with just a few simple words or even none at all, “Mmmm alright I’ll let it go, I do like this hat on me too. Thanks again for getting it for me baby.”

You both kept standing in your embrace like time had stopped ticking by, just enjoying the presence of the other. The hat was an amazing present from Frankie, matching perfectly with him. But, you weren’t going to lie, you'd miss stealing his hat so he would chase you around the house. You brought your head out from where it was tucked in his shoulder to ask, “Can I still steal yours sometimes?”

“Of course, but only if you let me steal yours.” You nodded your head, with a smile of course because there was almost never a time when you didn’t smile when you were around Frankie. Now you and Frankie would always match, like two peas in a pod.

Ask Me Anything

——

Tag lists (fill out this form to join): Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you (check your tumblr settings to see if you are unsearchable)

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith

All Pedro Pascal Characters: (no ones on this one yet 😊 & I’ll create a tag list only for Frankie if anybody wants it)

[wondereads]

Personal Recommendation (05/23/21)

Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg by Gail Carson Levine

Why am I recommending this book?

This one is a trip to my childhood. The Tinkerbell movies were great and all, but the Pixie Hollow books were truly on another level. I loved this whole trilogy when I was younger, and it's the perfect book for 4th-7th graders or a comfort book for older age groups. This was probably the root of my obsession with fairies.

Want something quick and short? Check out my tiktok

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

There's a new Arrival in Pixie Hollow, but Prilla is a bit different from the other fairies. Not only does she use phrases like "nice to meet you" and "I'm sorry" rather than the fairy equivalent, but she doesn't know what her talent is. Before Prilla can even begin to start figuring herself out, the Mother Dove's egg, the talisman that keeps all of Neverland young, is broken in a violent hurricane. Prilla is chosen to go on a quest to restore the egg along with water-talent Rani and fast-flying-talent Vidia.

This book has a very classic complete-the-quest sort of plot. It would normally be boring, but it's very fast-paced and the worldbuilding really fleshes it out. The worldbuilding is incredibly thorough; it explains a lot while still keeping a sort of magical, mysterious air to Neverland. There are mentions of the greater wanded fairies and spell-casting fairies, establishing that Never fairies are not the only fairies out there and also plays into the plot of the next book. The explanation of Pixie Hollow's social structure (which is most definitely a communist utopia) is simple enough for younger kids but is still intriguing. For context, these books were specifically written in order to promote the upcoming Tinkerbell movies, so worldbuilding and characters were way more important than the plot.

Despite that, it's actually pretty good. It's a kid's book in the purest sense and still incorporates the struggle to fit in, self-sacrifice, and the importance of belief. The issue of Prilla's talent, which while it may not be as important as restoring the egg, is never forgotten, and it's obvious that there's something going on with her, but if you haven't read the book before there's no way you know what her talent is. The quest itself provides a lot of good situations for character development.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Ugh, the characters are so good and so easy to get attached to. Prilla, the main character, is a good lens for the audience. Born from a laugh with a bit of Clumsy (or human) attached to it, she has more humanistic mannerisms that make it easy to introduce fairy standards to the readers. She's also absolutely adorable.

I also have to talk about Rani, the true hero of the story. A water-talent fairy, Rani has always wanted to swim, but fairy wings absorb water and cause them to sink. Rani makes one of the biggest sacrifices a Never fairy could make, and then does it again. She really is just a wonderful person that serves as an amazing role model to young girls.

In terms of character development, Tinker Bell and Vidia are the best. Tinker Bell is particularly important because, especially since these books were meant to promote her movies, she needs to be different from the stuck-up, jealous, and downright mean Tinker Bell from Disney's Peter Pan. And she is characterized so well. She's obsessed with her work and isn't the nicest fairy, but Tinker Bell is also shown to be incredibly kind and caring through her scenes with Mother Dove. It also helps explain her behavior in Peter Pan, and it becomes much easier to like her.

Finally, Vidia is such a good character. She's a hero of the story. She goes on the quest with Rani and Prilla. But she is, fundamentally, selfish. She makes decisions that benefit herself, and she's outright rude to most of the characters at some point. As the quest progresses, there are so many good scenes where she comes to realize the consequences of her behavior, most notably the plucking scene. In the end, although she rationalizes it as something to improve her own situation, she makes the selfless choice and ultimately ends up saving the quest.

Also, Vidia and Prilla's relationship is perfect because it is the epitome of grumpy social outcast and the one (1) person they will tolerate.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I'll just get it out there–Gail Carson Levine is one of my favorite authors, especially when it comes to children's literature. She has an amazing talent for writing intricate fantasy stories that still keep the feel and atmosphere of a fairy tale. In case you weren't aware, she also wrote Ella Enchanted, Fairest, and The Two Princesses of Bamarre, which are all basically the best fairy tale-based fantasy books for children. She is an amazing writer, and this book is no different. Her method of using third-person-limited perspectives and jumping around from narrator to narrator is I think what really keeps that classic fantasy vibe.

Of course, I also have to talk about the masterful illustrations of David Christiana. Yeah, the Tinkerbell movies were great and all, but I would pay good money to see a 2D animated movie in Christiana's style. The fairies are all so ethereal, and the amount of detail is absolutely stunning.

Meaning 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg, keeping true to the new fairy tale aesthetic it has, has a moral of course. I think that this book is all about the importance of belief. Of course, fairies need Clumsies (humans) to believe in them, or they die, but it's also about the belief that the fairies themselves need in order to overcome their obstacles. Towards the end of the quest, it seems all is lost, and the fairies lose their belief. It is only when Prilla shows them that there is still something to believe in that the problem is truly solved. It is not just about believing in yourself, but also believing in others and the goodness of the world.

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

This one is a childhood favorite of mine. In my opinion, everyone should give it a go. It's got a classic quest storyline, great characters, and a good meaning. However, it is aimed at last elementary schoolers. Maybe suggest it to your younger cousin. But, if you're ever in the mood for a light-hearted children's book that's really only a children's book because it's short and had illustrations, give this one a shot! I would recommend this book to people who like fairies, fairy tales, and are of the firm belief that there will always be good in the world.

The Author

Gail Carson Levine: Russian-American, 73, also wrote The Princess Tales, Ever, and A Tale of Two Castles

David Christiana: American, 61, also illustrated for A Tooth Fairy's Tale, The First Snow, and Drawer in a Drawer

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

[noahstayed]

Sorry if you've already answered these questions but I still want to ask them so...

1) Are you going to make another book after Earthshine?

(If the answer is yes; (and you don't have to answer this one,) Are you going to do a time skip or will you go the 'the condom broke'?)

2) Will Edward have a mate (If yes; will you create an OC or simply pluck a character from the twilight saga archives are revamp them?)

3) If you do make a version of Breaking Dawn, will it have the same premise (Ie. Wedding, Honeymoon, (I typed hUMANmoon and then corrected it, don't know why my fingers went there.) surprise pregnancy (or not? Because Carlisle is a DOCTOR) turning, then the Volturi going all "We must kill the child!"?)

4) With regards to question three, in the (honestly, and sadly, unlikely) ( completely forgot what word I was going to type, and It as too much trouble to type that so I'm just going to use another word that won't flow as well) situation (I'm so unhappy with this word, my stomach is turning something fierce, man.) that you DO go the standard "with the other book as a very, very, loose guideline) Would you go the route of OYH or would make an entirely new plot?

Also, if you do go with the same general outline, (which is unlikely since Irina isn't with Laurant in newmoon but with Charlie, so there's no bitter feelings and she won't immediately go to the kings before she's heard Carlisle's explanation.) How would you make that work?

5) I know you said that if you do make a fourth book you would just use the dhampire from OYH, Elisha, does that still reign true? Or are you planning to make a new character entirely?

6) If you do make a fourth, and go the OYH route, would you still make Elisha Emse's mate, like in OYH? Or will you go with Garette?

7) Also, since you have previously made an ff about Garette and Bella having a brother-sister type friendship would we see that and get to see Garette claim her as his sister and charlie as his father, and everyone goes along with it? (Honestly, I REALLY want this to happen, especially since I've spent the last hour scrolling through your tumbler and stumbled upon the 'I'm older than my father' post.)

8) Really, all these questions border on the main one of "is there going to be a breaking dawn/part 4-5 (depending) in your rewrite?" but if you do, would Carlisle buy Isle Bella as a honeymoon present of would that be in the oneshots book (that you'll hopefully be writing after this is over) as like a "Have fifteenth anniversary" thing?

9) Are you going to write a book full of random one-shots you couldn't fit into your story? I REALLY HOPE SO.

enthusiastically hope so. :) (that's really a tense smile with eyes SHINING with hope. Just informing you that you'll be crushing my heart. Brutally. With a stake. No pressure :) )

10) If you don't write the fourth book will we get an epilogue with the wedding five years later? Like, with Bella being SUPER nervous?

And finally, 11) (I really want a war to showcase Bella's awesome vampire powers (because you've stated (in a previous Tumblr post) that you'd give Bella her BAMF!Bella OYH powers)) So if there's a part four, even though the Volturi is "lawful" and like, has a brain, in your series, can they like have a brain fart where they go. "He's making an army," Or just straight up CANNON!Aro with his need for power be like "It's an immortal child, and it needs to be destroyed." But really be thinking, "They're growing too large, already their numbers rival our own, they must be put down! This is the perfect time!" Like the (cowardly) power-hungry and villainess we all know and love. Kinda.

I have other questions but those can really wait lol.

I basically want breaking dawn and the third (Do you count Charlie's book as part of Bella's story or as a stand-alone since you weren't really progressing the plot very much (also a very good way to have a time skip in your main)?) isn't even done yet.

I don't know if you can tell, but I've been reading this series for three days straight (new fan!) and just started your OYH series and I'm just filled with a desire right now. Like, I typically hate sex scenes in a twilight book (but that's because I was a child when these movies came out (saw them all in theatre!) and still was when I read the books, so Bella is SACRED lol, and It just makes me uncomfortable to imagine her in those positions (it's like a trauma okay?) but I really enjoyed your stories (even if I basically glossed over your sex scenes and read through them quickly) and could actually sit through your sex scenes (mostly, because it wasn't INTENSE! Like, a lot of rewrites turn breaking dawn into literal Porn and sully the books for me because they basically remove a lot of plot to make room for Bella's sudden appetite, and while, yes, you gave her an appetite and... I am just really enjoying your stories and how you write so Thank You.

Okay, I've let you know your appreciated and put out my question into the tumblr universe so now I just have to wait for you to see this and maybe respond.

I hate waiting.

I haven't gotten an ask in a while and AJKHFJKHD Listen!! THE FACE I MADE AT HOW LONG THIS IS??? Superb!! I'm honored you've taken the time to write this all out so I'm gonna try to answer you as best as I can!!

Right now I'm 100% sure that there will be a couple of Novellas/Novelettes directly after Earthshine. The Renee Story, the Charlie Story, and the Roommate Story which all will get maybe 40k and mini plots that are far more focused than Charlie's first story. Charlie's new story will be focused on his relationship with Carlisle too, so that should be fun!

Edward having a Mate is still up in the air at the moment. Since he is still very young, I don't see the need to really give him someone so quick when other characters have waited WAAAY longer. As for who it might be, that's also still up in the air in case I want to do a short story with him that's a part of a series of Novellas after the main books

If I do make a BD rewrite IT WILL have wedding/honeymoon/surprise pregnancy then it will PRETTY MUCH go off the rails from there because the Pregnancy will be VASTLY different. Carlisle is a Doctor and Bella isn't an idiot. They won't be in Washington either.

Again. The first half will be loosely based on the book and then just go completely off the rails because, Like you said, the Volturi have brains and I LOATHE an 'idiot' plot where people are required to suddenly become stupid for the story to work. As for the OYH route, I will be borrowing a couple elements from OYH but the conflict will be very different.

Elisha is baby and there's no way I could make another Dhampir at this point. Not with how much I love him.

The aging process will work differently in this fic for Dhampirs, so this question is irrelevant since Elisha will be a child for the entire fourth book. As for when he's older, Its still up in the air for this series. He deserves to be baby and I very much dislike the trope of age faster = mentally develop faster because that's BS.

We'll see, I love Bella and Garrett, but there's A LOT I'll have to cram into the last book so we'll just see.

As much as I'd love to answer this, I'm covering the honeymoon in the fourth book so you'll see what happens in there ; )

I HAVE PLANS for random one shots. I REALLY DO. I just has so little time to work on the main story so I might write some when Earthshine is done! I have a name for the one-shot collection already too and some Ideas!

I very much plan to write the fourth book you'll be fine. Bella will not be nervous, she'll be WAY more anxious about it going right. Mostly her nerves will be from anticipation and excitement because she'll be 23 and be very secure in her forever with Carlisle.

There will be a fight in book four that will not have the Volturi turning stupid. Don't worry about how.

Charlies little story is a Novella so I don't count it as a book.... GOD hearing you plowed through the series in so short a time is MIND boggling. I get people telling me this occasionally and I NEVER stop being amazed by it!

As for the sex scenes, yeah, I didn't want this to be erotic literature. I frequently scream that 'THIS ISN'T A SMUT BOOK' because them having sex is just a normal healthy thing that happens in relationships and wanted to show that. The sex scenes I write tend to be glossed over anyways so I'm glad it was readable for you. I get feeling frustrated and wanting more plot, but there are plenty of people who prefer the very explicit smut.

If sex scenes aren't your cup of tea, that's fine. I don't view Bella as pure and innocent though. It teeters dangerously on the Madonna/Whore dichotomy to act like she is. I get wanting to preserve the innocence of your childhood through her. That's not me though. Bella/Carlisle's relationship is highly sexual in nature within SoG and that's ALRIGHT too!

Thanks for the super long ask!!! it was great to read and fun to respond to!

[mcheang]

Model standards

Inspired by Suite Life of Zack and Cody “Health and Fitness”

Instead of a bake sale for school charity, why not host a fashion show? Rose proposed the idea for Juleka’s sake.

But as that would be too much work for Marinette on such short notice, they would be modelling Gabriel clothes. Lila promised so, despite Adrien’s doubts.

The venue would be at Chloe’s hotel, where various celebrities are currently staying.

As Lila and Adrien are the only official models, they are the ones giving advice to their respective gender group.

Lila gives bad advice but praises her classmates. Adrien ends up having to counter her.

Since Lila isn’t friends with Chloe or Marinette, she insults them for being too skinny and fat respectively. (Basically Lila is Francesca, Chloe is Maddie, and Marinette is London in this scenario). Of course the insults happen in private. Onstage, Lila sighs that they just aren’t model material.

Despite knowing Lila is an enemy, she was chosen to model by Gabriel Agreste and the girls begin to see things that aren’t there in the mirror.

They decide to call a truce and manage their body weight together. In short, Marinette supplies Chloe with sweets. As Chloe gorges herself and orders for more junk food, Marinette decides to run up and down the hotel stairs and goes on a diet. This is basically what they do for the next few days.

Tikki is concerned. This isn’t healthy for Marinette. She won’t do well at school, hero work, or fashion at all. Marinette promises it will be for a few days, once she is sure her body is in tip top shape.

Tikki: you are Ladybug! People use you as their standard for the physical exam!

Marinette: Ladybug has super strength and speed. I don’t.

Tikki: your body shapes are still the same! And everyone thinks you are in great shape.

Marinette: Gabriel Agreste isn’t everyone. And he chose Lila of all people to model!

Tikki: Gabriel never critiqued you. That liar did. Why are you letting her get to you?

Marinette: because she’s right! I am overweight!

Tikki: Marinette, you are seeing things in your head! Snap out of it!

At the fashion show, Chloe is bloated from eating too much food. Marinette just feels dizzy.

During the show, Chloe burps and Marinette pretty much falls over. As she does, she opens the curtain to reveal Lila stuffing her top with tissue paper.

Lila: it’s not what it looks like!

Chloe plucked out a piece of tissue paper poking out. “Seeing is believing, honey.”

Lila runs away, crying. Marinette and Chloe hi-5.

After the show, Marinette and Chloe each walk out with their own celebrity, who assured the girls they are perfect just the way they are.

Because of Lila’s behavior and the bad press reception, Gabriel decides to fire her. (Just as well, that girl is not model material. All she does is cling and copy Adrien.) besides, she would have gotten Marinette akumatized sooner or later. No need to make a business deal over something that would eventually occur.

Lila is akumatized into Chameleon. Fight yada yada yada. Defeated. And in disgrace. She decides to hide out for a while until the matter has blown over. Even if her class tries to console her, the whole school isn’t so forgiving.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

So, I always wanted to know a bit more about Wands in the harry potter universe. Given that they are so central to life, it would be nice to have a bit more info.

The wood - we know there's like 4/5 different types of wood they choose, and they're all things they can get in region. Does that imply then that aussie wizards could have wattle, eucalyptus, or other local trees?

What about trees native to the region, JK? TELL ME

How do they choose the tree. Do they have to come from a specific place, or do wandmakers need to wander through magically inclined forests until a branch falls off into their hands, or what?

Is there like commercial plantations of these trees, to feed the constant need for all the children constantly coming into their power?

What does that look like? What are the hazards? Can the place get infested by bad magic or what? Pesticides or no?

So they find the tree, next step? Is it just like 'yes, dibs that branch' and that's it, or do they take the whole tree? What are their conservation policies?

Or do they need to do a spell, or use a ritual or something before/during/after harvesting?

Crafting... how do they know what length and shape to make for each piece of wood? Like, is it like when artists make statues and they can already see what is inside the marble/wood, etc.? Or do they just make as many randomly shaped wands as they can for each one... is there a magial equivalent of a lathe? Or is this all by hand?

How do they choose designs, assuming the wand isn't calling out to them? Like, some are delicately patterned, and the elder wand was straight up a**l beads???

Are there variations based on the shop, the wandmaker and the region?

The core - apart from the main question of how they get the core in there (drill a hole and slip it in? make it into a potion and soak the wand? lay it on the crafted wand and it disappears in a show of magic?), and if this is done before or after the wand is shaped... You have to think it's a little fucked up the way they go about it, right?

Standards are like, Unicorn hair, Phoenix Feathers (Rare) and Dragon Heartstring, right?

Well how the fuck do they get these things without unethical commerical farming? Unicorn hair is easy enough, you have a herd of them on a ranch protected from bad guys or whatever (and centaurs are lobbying against it bc what the fuck magical people) and most of the strands can be picked up from where they catch / fall out by fences, in the paddock, in the barn at night, etc

But what if they just pluck them. I mean, there are places that live-pluck birds for the feathers, which is fucked up, and we know magical people see any magical creature or half-human as lesser...

Assuming things are totally ethical, best case is that the unicorns lose a bit of mane or tail hair every so often and it is sourced from the field. Worst case, they are trapped in stalls all day every day and shaved beyond acceptable (look up horse tails, it's not all hair) to the detriment of the animals...

Ideally, but more impracticably, the wandmakers could wander through the forest and meet at a certain place with wild herds. They bring the carrots, the unicorns hand over a few strands once a year...

\I know unicorn cores are meant to be harder to turn to the dark arts but like... what if the unicorns are upset, stressed and angry? You'd think that would turn on them, right?

Phoenix Feathers... well they're rare. I think they probs have to get it willingly, or it doesn't work. Wasn't that in the books somewhere? But it wouldn't have to be. I mean, they're an immortal resource... even if you mistreat a phoenix, it cant escape in death.

You just have to wait a bit for it to regrow, and there's probs spells to help speed that up. I mean, look how the world treats chickens (caged), would it be that hard for magical society (with fewer animal oversight committiees and laws) to pull some nonsense...

The dragon cores are the ones that always used to stress me out, as a concept, as a child. Like, there's a LOT of dragon heartstring wands, its common... that implies a lot of dead dragons.

How many hearstrings does the average dragon have, in this universe? Assuming at least four... that's only four wands, maybe eight if they cut them in half and it still works.

So, are they commercially farmed? Is Charlie Weasley complicit in dragon farming with the goal of harvesting the animals for parts? What happened to the dragons from the Triwizard Tournament? Is there a first year with a Special Dragon Heartstring wand?

Also, would they need to prep them specially?

What variations are there, as well? Like these are the main 3, but other countries and places have to have others, or have tried other magical things?

Do you think there are houself ears, or Centaur tendons, or mermaid fins, or kraken tentacles, or niffler claws, or goblin teeth, or redcap blood, in their wands? And it only phased out of common production recently as new protections came in for magical races?

Is there a blackmarket trade for illegal cores and if you have enough it can be 'verified' as a legal core...? There are implications here.

So you have the core, you have the wood, you have the wandmaker who slapped it together and imbued it with magic... you have a wand. Does it do a little sparkle or something when it works?

Are there wands that get to the end of the process and just... fail to work? How do they dispose of them?

Do they put resin or a protective potion/agent on it? They have to last for years, right?

Longevity - So you have a wand your entire life, unless it breaks or it is taken for being a Bad Naughty Little WizardTM... for one, how does the wand choose the person? Even if we slap a 'magic' bandaid on it, there are still more questions about it.

Do you lose your wand if you become impaired? Like, would a magical doctor remove your wand if you got dementia and 'lost capacity'? But then, how would it control your innate magic? The stuff you can do wandless? Off topic.

So you pass away, is your wand typically buried with you? Is it given to a family member? If so, then how does that work because the info the author gave was it was one wand = one person, pick each other etc. Assuming it does bond to that other family member, who is probably young enough to not have their own wand yet... does that mean their perfect wand will never be bought?

If not, what normally occurs? Does the wand get taken by the council Dept of Births, Deaths, Marriages and Magical Incineration to be checked over and reset to 0? Does it get returned to the Wandsmith shoppe who made it, so they can check it is fine to be reused? Does your wand choose another person, who will never know how well it once fit into your hand? The atrocities you committed with it?

How does this system work? Is there magic recycling, or is it all waste...?

Are cores from animals who did not consent at greater risk of turning the bearer evil?

What if your wand breaks... like Ron's did? Like... he had an older relative's wand, so he got a proper wand that matched him. But what if your Perfect Match of a wand is damaged? Why is there no option to have the wand repaired properly...

If humans today would rather die than get a replacement roomba, you have to assume people would be pretty damn attached to their wands... maybe more than usual. Is it about profit? Or can they just not fix it? What are the limitations on fixing a wand, or is it just not considered at all?

Is there... wand insurance?

Like, it feels like there was a lot to talk about...

[pctchwork]

@xpeculiariity​ said : (Dramatic Birthday Host Takoman // Part I ) Azul parted from his embrace with Nix amid the background noise of the lounge. His hand quietly rubbed her back as he peered between her and the spiral shell lamp at the table's center. It glowed and cycled through a spectrum of colors.

"Quite the eye you have there. It took weeks to perfect. Standard materials from the Coral Sea itself with a bit of a magic. Oh, and what's this? It appears your name happens to be on it, too. How fortunate. " He smiles then plucks a small envelope wedged beneath the lamp and hands it to Nix. The front of it in glittering, dark purple ink read ‘Happy Birthday, My Little Sea Star’. After placing another kiss upon her lips, Azul slid out of the booth and bowed a bit. “Now, if you would excuse me, for now, I have to check up on tonight’s entertainment. ”

(Dramatic Birthday Host Takoman // Part II ) He disappears into the crowd for a moment. A short while later, the lights dim and a feverish tune plays from a distance. “Ladies and gentlemen.” A spotlight appears in this distance, illuminating a grand piano and the man seated beside it. Azul held the cane in his hand and spoke into one end.

"We at Mostro are so happy you could join us for such a momentous occasion. Now, allow us to dedicate the first piece of the evening to" Another spotlight illuminates the table Nix is seated at. With a snap, the spotlights shut off. Seconds after, they returned and revealed the Leech twins at the piano. Floyd grinned and waved at Nix with a cane in his hand as Jade began to play. " My Little Sea Star, and, of course, our dearest birthday girl, Nix."

Azul chuckled and stepped out of the shadows. With a wave of his hand, his suit shifted into another that hugged his frame a bit more. The fabric and his bowtie became adorned in purple and glitter. He held a hand out to Nix, “Now then, shall we properly start your party, my queen?”

It was new to Nix to actually be celebrating a birthday, not having done so for as long as she can remember. To spend this portion of the day with Azul made it even more of a grand experience. She had always told him that he didn’t have to make grand gestures for her but it was simply who he was, this time being no different in that regard. So far he had saved them a table at the lounge, one that had a beautiful shell lamp sitting upon it. It wasn’t until Azul pointed out that her name was on the card beneath it that she realized it was a gift for her! Like always, her beloved showed he was talented in sharing that he made it himself. This would certainly get a special spot in her room, having it close to keep the dark at bay. Even the card had that ‘extra’ factor to it of all things but she loved it all.

A kiss was given to Azul in return but a small look of confusion came to her face as he left their booth. “Tonight’s entertainment?” What all did he have planned tonight? The lamp and having a meal together as already more then enough to her, being the easy type to please. She was able to try a bite of the dessert the twins gave her when the spotlight appeared. A momentous occasion? Dedicating the first piece? Oh no.. did he mean? A vibrant blush swiftly spread across her cheeks as the light was suddenly upon her as well. At least it didn’t last too long as the lights shut off until returning to the stage. Though where did Azul go? Only the twins were up there now.

The question to his whereabouts were soon answered as Azul stepped out of the shadows. He was now wearing a more form fitting suit, one he looked quite handsome in at that. Then again he always looked perfect to her. Even though the spotlight had caught her off guard, all in all.. This was so far a most wonderful evening. And she got a chance to dance with the person she loved most? Her birthday was only getting better. Nix reached out to take his hand and get to her feet. “I would love nothing more, My King~.”

[creeping-shadow-heralds-storms]

Body hair standards as 'part of a white supremacist system'

Hair removal experts say the sentiment holds true when you look at the history of U.S. beauty standards. Hairlessness, after it became common in the 20th century, was synonymous with purity and white femininity.

"You can track patterns of anxiety about hygiene, beauty, personal care according to different migratory patterns to the U.S.," said Rebecca Herzig, a professor of gender and sexuality studies at Bates College in Maine and author of "Plucked: A History of Hair Removal."

In the late 19th century, when a wave of immigrants came to the U.S. from Southern and Eastern Europe, there was a parallel effort to medicalize and demonize excessive body hair, Herzig said. Immigrant women from those countries had different features and more body hair — and the modern beauty standard began to take shape as part of the anti-immigrant reaction. Similar personal hygiene and beauty anxieties rose when migrants came from Asia, including South Asians, in the early 20th century. The 1950s and the 1960s brought another rise in immigration from Asia and Latin America, and the popularity of hair removal shot up with it.

"You can see new anxieties about personal hygiene, personal care, personal beauty, all getting tangled up with ideas about whiteness and race more broadly," Herzig said. "'How is whiteness going to be defined? How is it going to be maintained? Who is going to get the privileges associated with it?'"

Herzig said that in her research and interactions with South Asian women, she can see the depth of harm that has been caused.

"It's important to understand that it's part of a white supremacist system, that it's not just psychological, not just about women internalizing and being damaged from these harmful messages," she said. "It's also that there's whole legal, economic and social structures supporting that psychological harm."

She said the demonization is compounded for trans women of color who are shamed for having body hair and are often ostracized when they seek to have it removed professionally.

The mental health toll

Feeling ugly, othered and at the whim of white beauty standards takes a toll that can stick with you for a lifetime, said Yuki Yamazaki, a half-South Indian, half-Japanese psychotherapist specializing in Asian Americans and colorism.

"Within a white society, already being a South Asian is to feel other," she said. "Either that's because of your name, the culture or religion you were raised in, the food that you eat. Body hair is just another."

Feeling ostracized like that can be a trigger, Yamazaki said, and it can induce stress and anxiety in environments where you feel implicitly or overtly judged. Both U.S. and South Asian media can also contribute to those feelings.

"No one has to tell you that you're unattractive or ugly for you to feel like you're unattractive or ugly," she said. "When you look on the TV, there's constantly things on how to remove body hair, how to shave, how to be smooth. Skin lightening stuff, too. The skin that you have and the stuff on top of it needs to be altered."

Yamazaki said that it can be a lot to unpack but that a good place for people to start can be to look inward at their own body hair practices and ask: "How is it helping? How is it making me feel better?" With people leaving their homes much more infrequently, she said, her own South Asian friends contend with the question of how to survive without consistent hair removal.

"We have two competing societies at the very least, white society and South Asian society, that gives us all of this bias and shame," she said. "We're born into these cultures. How do we want to unpack it? And how do we eventually want to move forward inside of it?"

When your 'ugly' eyebrows become a profitable trend

Herzig places eyebrows in a category of their own — eyebrow trends change with the wind, and eyebrows themselves are easy to alter. But as the early 2000s trend of razor-thin eyebrows gave way to the fluffy, bushy brows of the 2010s, Desi women find themselves playing catch-up, they say.

Khullar said she was itching for the moment her mom would let her get her brows done in eighth grade. She wanted to fit in, so she got them threaded thin like the white girls at school.

"Literally, like, probably a year and a half later, everyone's like, 'Taylor Hill's eyebrows are so beautiful, and we should be moving on to the thick eyebrow trend,'" Khullar said. "They're capitalizing and profiting off of our features that they told us were ugly."

She wishes she could go back and tell her younger self to stop with the hair removal and just embrace her natural look.

"Whatever you feel insecure about right now is going to change when white people change their opinions on it," she said.

Sai Seshadri, 23, was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome, or PCOS, six years ago. It meant that her facial and body hair grew thicker even than the typical South Asian's, and she "always had this feeling like I was being judged."

Seshadri said that she was teased in elementary and middle school for her facial and body hair, especially by preteen boys, and that it made her hate the way she looked. The girls with "fair skin, perfect eyebrows and blond hair" were the pretty ones.

[magioftheseas]

Palliate

For @i-demand-a-hug and @badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Biting taken from here.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Vampirism with all the implications you’d get from a story still rated T+.

Notes: This is a continuation for Pariah, written for 2/2 also known as the in-game day Akechi and Protag-kun confirmed their love in Persona 5 Royal. But also with Vampire!Akira because lmao why not. However, it’s kinda angsty. Have fun.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“It’s not a problem, right?” At one point, Akechi had asked that with a perfect and plastic smile. Head tilted, eyes crinkled, a smile emphasized with only soft curves. Not a flash of teeth—until now. “Right, Kurusu?”

The raw Akechi Goro was still such a sight to behold. He wondered if he ever doubted that for a moment. He supposed he should at least be glad for the scarf wrapped tightly around the neck. Somehow, his teeth still ached.

The words before had been like poison.

“Can you stay a bit?”

He knew from the second he asked that he made a mistake. And Akechi’s reaction—

The Detective Prince was perfect and plastic. Always offering a smile. Always assuming an act of innocence even when tucking his hair back to expose his throat. The image of charm, graceful on the line between friendly and intimate. It had only been those eyes that indicated his danger. A soft and sweet front—but there was no hiding that sharp and intelligent stare.

A stare which is now just a glare, lips pulled into a sneer.

“This sentimentality isn’t going to cause problems, right?” Any sweetness that could be gleaned was dripping with sarcasm. Ah, has Akechi always had sharp canines? Maybe that was just projection. “I can trust you to cooperate, yes?”

And, then.

“It’s not a problem, right? Right, Kurusu?”

Of course it’s a problem, he wants to scream. It’s been a problem since the day you shook my hand.

It’s been a problem since the day you came back with a godforsaken cocky fucking smirk.

I’ve been stuck on you like a parasite from the start.

“You didn’t answer the question,” is what he says instead.

“It’s a stupid question,” is Akechi’s blunt response. “What do you expect to get from continuing this?”

“I...” You speak so detachedly. “It’s the last chance I’ll get to taste you.”

With just the right stare of his own, Akechi stills. It’s not like a deer in headlights, not yet, but Akechi does stiffen when Akira strides towards him.

“You knew,” he said. “From the start. And you were curious. You always pressed so close, acting so innocent. If we were both normal humans, that’d be one thing. Maybe I could brush it aside.”

“Even if you were a human, you wouldn’t be normal,” Akechi said, clipped. “But, you’re not much of a vampire, either, are you?”

He’s not. But he can still practically taste the memory of Akechi’s thumb pressed against his fangs. Akechi’s grabby little hands. On his teeth, on his back, on his shoulder. Akechi, who knew and still acted like that.

Akira grips the damn scarf. Akechi doesn’t stop him, but he doesn’t rip it away. The fabric gives under his grip, but he doubts Akechi will care about a few extra wrinkles in the folds.

“You’ve never even bitten a human before,” Akechi said next, and those sharp blood-red eyes bore into him. Reflected back is an unwavering shadow. “I didn’t need to confirm it, although the lack of bite marks on any of your merry gang of thieves did strengthen my conviction. They always showed their wrists and necks without a hint of restraint—how comfortable they were around you.” Akechi’s long lashes lower, and there’s still no falter. “You look at me differently. Full of surprises, aren’t you.”

His thumb hooks into the scarf.

“Let’s not talk about that.”

With that, he pulls, pulls, pulls—

--

Until Akechi is standing in the attic, staring him down. The scarf has unraveled a little, but the fabric sticks to his throat like a flimsy shield. He has thin bedsheets that would provide more of a defense.

Haah.

“I would have been fine just admiring from afar,” he finds himself saying. “But then you had to go and get yourself killed.”

“And now I’m back,” Akechi says, too unimpressed to muster up a smile, no matter how sardonic. “Don’t you feel indulged?”

This is only the start of that.

He leads Akechi to the bed, seating him, keeping him upright. Tugging at that scarf until, finally, Akechi’s pale neck was exposed.

At the laundromat, I wanted nothing more than to pull you close and sink my teeth in. Just to see if you were really alive, I thought to myself, because I couldn’t believe my ears which picked up not only your voice but your heartbeat.

And what a frantic heartbeat it had been! Even now, it’s beating fast in spite of Akechi Goro’s stoicism.

When fighting you, your heart raced so much that I worried it would come beating out of your chest.

Akechi sighed, tilting his head. His eyes closed, and resignation washes over his features.

His heart is still so agitated.

So much so that Akechi does flinch when a hand comes around the side of his neck.

It’s human to fear death, Akira thought. With his other hand, he plucked off his glasses to set them aside.

“I did find it strange,” Akechi commented suddenly. “Did Maruki not know about your condition?”

“It’s not something I go around telling people.” Not a very good attempt at lightening up the mood. Come on, Akechi, you’re better than this. “Very few people figure it out on their own, too.”

Akechi’s lips pull into the straight, thin line.

On impulse, Akira leans in close to kiss the corner of them. That gets Akechi to jump.

“What,” he growls. “The hell—”

Akechi freezes completely when a fang nicks his jaw. Locked in place. Just like that. His heart pounds against his ribcage, not calming even as Akira rubs his sternum with his thumb.

“Afraid?” he asks. Even if he meant to be teasing, his breath comes out in a chill against the other’s ear. “I don’t want to hurt you. Even if I should.”

Traitor. Killer. Tease. You’re as dangerous to others as you are to yourself.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats. “Which makes desiring you a bit of a problem.”

Akechi does blink.

“Goro,” Akira sighs against him, and the spell is broken.

Akechi’s gloved fingers weave through his hair and yank without mercy. And Akechi is the one to bite him hard on the neck, hard enough to draw blood.

“Ah,” Akira mumbles blandly.

His teeth are sorta sharp.

And they dig in so fiercely, too. Grinding in frustration.

How human.

“Oh, Goro,” he murmurs, holding him close, pressing him closer. He feels the tension in Akechi Goro’s shoulders get tighter, precarious like a rubber band holding the blades together. “Please, please stay with me.”

Akechi bites down harder than before. When he pulls back with that defiant glare, his lips are speckled with the same shade of crimson as his eyes. The wound stings, blood beading along the surface. Wiping that away with his thumb, he smears it against Akechi’s mouth. Strokes his puffy lower lip, and kisses him.

Gently. Mouth closed, even when Akechi nips at him.

“You spineless piece of shit,” Akechi breathed harshly, huffing. “What the actual fuck are you doing?” His fists ball up in his coat. “Are you going to bite me or what?!”

He pulls at Akira’s hair, his stare narrowed.

“Well?”

Akira runs his fingers through the other’s hair in return. The soft caramel strands don’t even get tangled. Akechi is still so particular about his appearance regardless of the world’s state. Akira thinks about pulling, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

“Well?” Akechi repeats, hissing. “What are you doing, Kurusu?”

“How did my blood taste?” he finds himself asking.

“It tasted like shit! What’s your point?!”

Shit, huh? Yeah. Vampire blood isn’t appetizing at all. Appetizing—

Then, something happened.

Akechi bit his own lower lip. Like before, he bit down hard. Hard enough to draw blood, which dribbles down his chin. Immediately, Akira leans in to catch it on his tongue.

Fuck.

He laps it up and tastes Akechi’s vicious smirk with it.

“Goro, you...” Cutting himself off so that his lips can close around that hole in Akechi’s lip. Akechi shudders against him, but he’s still grinning wildly, amused to the point of a soft puff of laugh scraping its way out between his teeth. “God.” Akira wanted to laugh, too. “I hate you.”

“Kurusu—”

Akira nuzzles into his neck and doesn’t wait another second before sinking in his teeth.

“Kurusu,” Akechi pleads, voice strangled. “Kurusu...”

His pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird. Fitting, isn’t it? For all that aggression, Akechi Goro is still vulnerable like any other human, like any other living creature at another’s mercy. And he tastes so great, warm with a hint of spice.

“Don’t you feel indulged?” Akechi had asked then, and he only whines now. He really had no idea—did he even imagine? “A... Akira...”

Warm and alive—there wasn’t a doubt about it, especially with the way Akechi squirmed when a hand slipped under his coat—

“Enough,” Akechi gasped out. “T-That’s enough, Akira.”

--

He applies a bandage to the bitemark but tells Akechi that it shouldn’t take long to heal.

“It’s not a replacement for proper treatment, but my saliva does have healing qualities,” he says, handing Akechi an opened water bottle. “Don’t move around too much...”

“I know the standard procedure for dealing with blood loss,” Akechi snapped. He takes a swing before Akira can stop him. Even if he chokes a little and swallows it down wrong, there’s not much to do besides let him be.

Akechi’s glove has been rolled up a little. Akira’s fingers twitch when he notices.

“With that, all is settled?” Akechi asks, lips wet with his grip on the bottle tilted. “Are you satisfied?”

Fuck it. Just what does this guy expect when he asks?

“We’re not taking the offer,” he says as he takes that hand with the unruly glove. Rather than smoothing it down, he traces the vein of his wrist. Once, twice, each stroke harder against the skin. Until he leans down and kisses that pulse. The flutter is enough to make his lips tingle. “That should be enough.”

“You’re not the type to go behind someone’s back, for better and worse,” Akechi sighed, and he turns away rather than pulling his hand back. “I can trust you. Don’t disappoint me.”

Akira’s grip on his hand tightened. He thinks of biting both of Akechi’s wrists, to let blood drip from them like severed puppet strings.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Akechi didn’t look at him. He refused, only giving a polite nod.