#they’re like the opposite ends of the spectrum

[st-hedge]

Nier automata: I’m gonna tell a nuanced story of human struggle through beings u are not supposed to relate but u do thru beautiful writing with the backdrop of ethereal music. The more u see the less u understand but that’s okay cuz there isn’t a single correct interpretation to this story riddled with subtle political messages

Metal gear solid: *takes a break to wipe away sweat after beating u with the hammer of blunt political commentary*

[neonnoir-ao3]

Do you see the vision besties

[valkyurii]

when i see someone put both radahn and malenia in s tier on their boss ranking list

[bigbrotherismyreligion]

Quinn haters🤝Quinn lovers

Not believing Leah actually has a crush on Quinn

[yourheartinyourmouth]

the crew of the Red Hot renaming themselves to The Wurst is exactly like martin crieff naming his company Icarus Removals

[jjjunebuggg]

been in deep thought about the connection between these two lines for like days now, ethel cain’s music is so fucking good

[carterashofficial]

Your Honor, they’re both dinguses

[im-still-watching-anime]

moved back into my family’s house recently and it’s been fun watching them get increasingly frustrated trying to figure what the fuck i eat anyway i think i broke something in them today when they caught me eating rice crisps when the the one thing they all know i can’t stand is rice

[gwystyl]

I love morbid little kids. The museum I volunteer at has the founder buried underneath it with a person sized rectangle and plaque on the floor of the basement level, which just so happens to be in front of our classroom and every time the kids go by it they’re like “don’t walk on it!” “that’s a grave!!” “there’s a body under there!”

[shawcl]

always curious to know how ppl who don’t know anything abt aftg perceive it from just the posts i reblog

[probably-catherine-clover]

Meanwhile in a dreamgenic system:

“Alright, we have access to the combined power of daydreams and nightdreams. Let’s see what the brain’s come up with.”

- a young woman

- a slightly less young woman

- a young man

- a young woman

- a young* woman*

- a young man

- a young woman

- a young woman who very occasionally turns into a cat

did is so silly because we have a literal god, someone fueled entirely by rage, a little girl, some poor dad trying to keep said little girl from front, and then a shape-shifting punk boy. what is going on

[owl-fruit]

athena and ody’s reunion is so meaningful to me and makes me want to gnaw on cement because they switched world views. they’ve both grown in opposite directions with athena now believing in empathy and having a more hopeful desire for the future while ody can’t return to the optimism he used to hold - only the coldness and hardness towards the world that he’s come to know. they learned from each other but not in the ways either expected and it’s pushed them to different ends of a spectrum where they’re more like how the other used to be

[littlebearbun]

Ford Pines NSFW Alphabet

(Written for my best friend <3 I hope it makes you feel better)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Absolutely doting. Brings them a warm, wet rag to clean off, water, a fresh shirt, you name it. Very touchy, lives off the closeness and skin on skin contact. Asks a lot of questions about what they liked and what they didn't, if anything. Catalogues the marks he left. Sometimes draws them if they falls asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is mouth, I think. Knows what it's good for-talking and as a seat. (I do think he would grow to like his own hands after being with someone he loved)

His favorite body part of his partner is this one specific freckle/mole behind their knee. Oh, you wanted something like boobs/ass? Neither. The crux of their leg.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is a little more liquid than not. Comes a normal amount but it comes in waves. Whines through it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Thought about his partner sexually before their first time together and considers that a dirty secret for sure.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced. College took up a lot of his time, then he was paranoid as hell, then he was in alternate dimensions for 30 years. Did fuck around with aliens, partially for science and partially cause he was lonely.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary??? He's classic. That, or spooning, him behind them and lazily rocking against them. So much skin contact.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious, he's trying very hard and he needs to focus, dammit. Once he gets started it's hard to stop.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Takes very good care of himself, keeps it trim and neat. Has a happy trail and also grooms that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very romantic, I think, or tries to be. Sometimes he gets caught up in his head/too focused but most of the time he's very about his partner and he's so, so sweet.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Did in high school/college to see what the fuss was about. Did not when he was working on the portal. Rarely did when In between dimensions cause he wasn't often safe.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

If they wear his shirt. Or on the opposite end of the spectrum of tameness, making them come until they cry. Somnophilia, if they gave permission first. If he can't sleep it's a nice way to pass the time and feel close.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed??? (Later they could convince him to do it in his study)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Every touch is like electric to this man. Touch starved as hell. If they look in his general direction sometimes wonders why his pants got tight. It's a process.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn't want to hurt them at all. Would also not want to be restrained, triggers him to Weirdmageddon. Do not degrade him, he takes it too hard.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preference to give for sure. Would stay down there for hours if they let him. Gets lost in it. He's greedy. Wants to see how many times he can get them to tremble for him. Tell him he's made for it and watch how red he turns.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's half and half. Ideally he wants it slow so he can focus and commit it all to memory and slowly take them apart. Sometimes he just gets too caught up in it and then he's much faster.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He would much rather take his time. What's the point if he only gets to make them come once??

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experiment, yes. He's definitely made an aphrodisiac/stimulating gel before. Has made an experiment about how many times he can physically get them to come (actually had to be begged to stop, he apologized with lots of kisses) Risky? No. Wants them safe and happy always

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's so touch starved I think he comes pretty quick. Prefers lots of foreplay and for them to come at least twice before he gets his. Is a little embarrassed about it but makes up for it in spades.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Makes toys, but more for teasing than actual insertion. I mentioned the gel, but I could also see remote control vibrators or experimental stimulations.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to think he can tease but he's too desperate for that. He can't tease for long before he wants more. Sometimes he breaks before his partner does.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man is loud. Whines a lot. Moans. Whimpers. He would try to talk through it and get cut off by his own sounds.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Listen I'm still on this-the mind reading helmet. Making them wear it and going down on them. In a less sexy note, is self conscious about all the scars and old tattoos. Lichtenberg scars are really sensitive, though. They can replace his self conscious thoughts with other ones. ;)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hairy but well groomed. Has a little tummy. His arms are built but not as big as Stans-Ford is built more for dexterity and speed. His pecs make perfect pillows. Has “Flirty Girl” and “Hey now you're an all star” tattoos. Definitely had old Bill worship tattoos that he burned/scarred the eyes off of. Has Lichtenberg scars after Bill electrocuting him and has many scars from knives and bullets from his time in the portal.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before he meets the love of his life, very low. (I headcanon Ford as Demi) After??? He can't get enough of the physical contact, though it's not always sexual. Just wants to be touching them. He yearns more for them sexually then he yearns for his own release.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ford doesn't sleep very well anyway (cat naps or like, an hour or so increments) knows it's not healthy but he has nightmares and is not used to being safe when he sleeps. Anyway, after sex he stays up looking at his partner, memorizing every mark, freckle, mole, wrinkle, scar. He is very doting in aftercare and will absolutely cuddle. Draws them, like I mentioned. Sometimes reads in bed.

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 2 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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I do not see Wednesday for the rest of the day, going through my classes as usual before stealing a freshly baked roll and some cheese from the dining hall and heading to my room.

I do not want to risk seeing her again, because our bizarre encounter this morning—if you can even call it that—has left me a little unnerved.

The gossip and buzz around her has not died down either. If anything, it has ramped up now, with rumors spreading like wildfire which has once again left me overstimulated by all the students’ excitement and nervousness.

I hardly believe that Wednesday murdered and ate some of the kids at her old school, like everyone is saying, but she must have done something to get expelled. I would not put it past her that it was something pretty bad, even if it was not exactly murder or cannibalism.

Now I am on the floor in front of my bed, doing push-ups in an attempt to distract myself from the buzz still lingering in the air that makes my chest feel tight.

I have been going at it for ten minutes straight now—perks of my abnormal strength—but no matter how many I do, it is not exactly working the way I hoped.

Sure, it is making me breathe a little heavier, making me feel the way my muscles stretch and burn, but it does nothing to quiet the fact that I keep hearing a familiar heartbeat pounding steadily from the other side of the school.

I have absolutely no clue why my ears keep picking up on it. Ever since I heard it for the first time this morning, it has been there. Quiet, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

I have never had this issue before. I am usually good at keeping my hearing in check, not letting it stray too far, but this time? It is like it has latched onto something. Or rather, someone.

Wednesday Addams.

“Four hundred and twenty… four hundred and twenty-one…” I keep counting under my breath as I push myself off the floor and lower down again, trying to stay grounded.

But it is the impatient knock at my door that finally snaps my ears back to my own room. The sudden change in volume—from a heartbeat across the school to a sharp knock right in front of me—makes me wince and flinch.

I move so I’m sitting cross-legged with my back against the bottom of the bed and run my hands down my face.

“Come in.”

The door swings open almost instantly, and I don’t even have to look to know it’s Enid storming in. Her usual energy fills the room the moment she enters, but this time, it’s different. It’s laced with anger, which is very unlike her, so I drop my hands into my lap and raise an eyebrow.

She’s got her arms crossed, now wearing one of her colorful sweaters and a pair of leggings instead of her uniform, and she’s looking around the room, quietly fuming, clearly searching for the right words.

“What’s wrong?” I prompt after a moment, when she still hasn’t spoken. That makes her look at me.

“Everything!” she exclaims dramatically, before flopping onto the floor in front of me and mirroring my position against the wall.

“Wednesday Addams is a nightmare.”

I get the feeling there’s more to it than that, so I ask “How come?” Even though I already have a pretty good guess.

The two of them must’ve had a fight because they’re on opposite ends of literally every spectrum imaginable. Personality, looks, hobbies? You name it…

“She ruined my window!” she whines. “Peeled off all the colorful foil on her side.”

I get why that would agitate Enid. She lives for her colors, and maybe Wednesday did not go about removing it in the nicest way. But technically, it is her room too, and half of the spiderweb window does belong to her.

“And she literally divided the room with tape on the floor,” she goes on. Again, I know that is not the most socially acceptable way to share a room, but like I said, it is Wednesday’s room too.

“And she insulted my blog! Said she’s read serial killer diaries with better punctuation.”

I can’t help the little snort of amusement that escapes me, and when Enid looks at me with bewildered eyes, I just shake my head with a chuckle and try to ease her offense by saying, “Sorry, but she kind of has a point. And yes, I know you write in your voice, which is what makes your blog special, but you and I both know you can’t put an exclamation point in the middle of a sentence just to emphasize your point.”

Enid huffs and crosses her arms, but I can feel the frustration inside her subsiding, so I know she is not really mad.

I understand where she is coming from though, so I try to coax some more information out of her to maybe let her air out a little more of her anger before she returns to her room and potentially explodes on Wednesday. “Come on, she can’t be that bad, right?”

“Are you kidding?” Enid deadpans, though she already lacks the intensity with which she stormed into my room just a moment ago.

“She turned her side of the room into a colorless goth cave. She’s got an old-timey record player and vinyls of classical music. And she’s got this annoying-ass typewriter she uses to write her novel. Like, hello? We live in the twenty-first century, just use a laptop? But no. Miss girl-with-literal-serial-killer-vibes has to use old-time technology that annoys everyone around her. And she doesn’t even have a phone. Who doesn’t have a phone?!”

“Well…”

Well, what am I supposed to say? Those are all valid arguments on Enid’s part. She could not survive without her phone, and she listens to nothing but K-pop. But again, Wednesday is allowed to like her own things. And if old-timey typewriters and classical music are some of them, then so be it. Even if it is a little weird that she doesn’t even have a phone.

“Exactly.” Enid drops her hands into her lap, taking my silence for agreement. It’s not, but I don’t correct her.

After a moment, I get up and offer her a hand. She accepts it with a questioning look, and I pull her to her feet.

“I know she isn’t exactly who you thought she’d be, but maybe just give her a chance?”

Enid’s lips thin, and I can tell she is about to object, so I raise my eyebrows and add, “It’s only fair.”

She contemplates it for a moment before giving in with a nod and a sigh. “Fine.”

“Good. Now you better get back to your room unless you want Thornhill to give you detention for being out past curfew.”

She grumbles, but agrees, and leaves quietly after mumbling a thank you.

Once she is gone, I strip off my clothes and head into my ensuite bathroom, stepping into the shower while trying—again—to ignore the heartbeat steadily pounding away on the other side of the school which is accompanied by the the soft clicking of what I now know is a typewriter.

It’s Friday afternoon, which means Wednesday has been here for less than a day, and yet she has already shaken up the entire school.

Not just because of her presence, but because she literally challenged Bianca to a fencing match.

I am usually not interested in gossip, but when the news spread during lunch, I actually indulged in it for once, listening to Yoko tell Enid all about it.

Apparently, Wednesday is an impressive fencer. It looked like she had Bianca beat at first, but then she invoked military challenge and lost when Bianca managed to nick her forehead.

Why she would go ahead and challenge Bianca in the first place, I have no idea. But it seems like they both have an ego problem, and fencing was the only way to determine the social hierarchy.

For now…

Much more surprising than Wednesday challenging Bianca, though, is her apparent skill. She is small and unassuming. So if she managed to hold her ground against Bianca, she must really know a thing or two about combat, which makes me wonder…

What else is she hiding under that mask of composure?

The bell signaling the end of my last class is so loud and unexpected, I actually wince and accidentally snap my pencil in half. A couple of students eye me warily.

I don’t feed into their curiosity by being embarrassed or making a big deal out of it, and instead quickly pack my things before leaving the classroom.

The sound of the rain against the windows in the hallway is louder than usual, a clear sign of my heightened senses. Everyone around me is still tense because of Wednesday’s arrival, which in turn is making me extra sensitive.

“Y/N, wait up.”

I stop involuntarily at the sound of a familiar voice and push myself against the wall to stay out of the steady stream of students excited about the upcoming weekend.

“Ajax,” I acknowledge the boy with a gentle smile as he catches up to me. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay after…” He throws a thumb over his shoulder, obviously referring to the pencil incident in class. “You know?”

“Oh… Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for asking, though,” I say quietly.

Ajax and I aren’t exactly friends, but because we both live fairly isolated lives, we understand each other. He, like Enid, has known about my super hearing for quite some time now and always notices when it gets the better of me or when I start getting overwhelmed.

It’s actually really sweet. He’s smart too, and it makes me want to be his friend, but Enid is already a little too close for comfort. I can’t risk him finding out what I truly am, so I usually keep him at arm’s length.

“You sure?” he asks, genuinely concerned, tucking a tiny snake’s head back under his beanie before it can make a full appearance.

I just nod and mumble a soft yeah, followed by a see you around? before walking off. I want nothing more than to get to my room, put on my headphones, and drown the world out with music.

I brush past students and hurry down the stairs toward the empty courtyard, only to hesitate when I realize I didn’t bring an umbrella.

It’s raining cats and dogs, and I’ll be soaking wet by the time I cross to the other side, but I don’t really have a choice. I brace myself to step into the rain—then stop dead in my tracks when I realize the courtyard isn’t as empty as I thought it was.

Standing there, with an umbrella and staring up at the roof, is Wednesday Addams in her custom black and white school uniform.

I’ve only seen glimpses of her since her arrival yesterday, which made me forget how elegant and regal she actually looks with her pale skin, dark hair and calculating eyes. A bandaid covers the spot where Bianca cut her forehead and yet, she still looks composed and untouchable.

For a second, I just watch her, but then I notice she hasn’t stopped looking up so I follow her eyes up to one of the gargoyles perched on the edge of the roof.

It’s shifting, like someone is tugging on it with an invisible rope and then, my heart drops and I move before I can think twice about it.

“Look out!”

I dart forward just as the gargoyle tips over the edge. From the other side of the courtyard, I see Xavier has spotted it too. He’s also trying to reach her, but I’m faster. Even without tapping into my full speed, I’m faster.

I crash into Wednesday and tackle her to the ground. The gargoyle clips my shoulder on the way down but it doesn’t injure me. It shatters into a hundred tiny pieces behind us.

Fuck. That was close.

I pull back from on top of Wednesday to check if she’s okay, but she’s passed out from the force of the impact. I go to wake her with a gentle tap to her cheek but then the pendant on my necklace, which has slipped out from under my uniform, starts glowing gold.

It hasn’t done that since I had a panic attack the night my adoptive parents dropped me off at Nevermore.

“Is she okay?!” Xavier drops to his knees beside me, looking between Wednesday and me. “Are you?!”

Frantic, I shove the pendant back beneath my clothes and scramble off her. “Y-Yeah, I think so.”

Xavier nods, but still taps Wednesday’s cheek. When her eyelids flutter slightly, he frowns and looks at me again. “Let’s get her to the med ward.”

I want to help him, I really do, but the pendant is still warm against my skin—probably still glowing—which makes me shake my head. “I… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

I back away, confused and overwhelmed by what just happened. I know Xavier is strong enough to carry her since we’re around the same height and he’s tough, so without another word, I turn and run.

What just happened?

Why did my pendant glow when I touched Wednesday? And why did that gargoyle fall in the first place?

I saw it moving before it tipped… someone must have tampered with it somehow which means someone is out to kill Wednesday.

The real question is… why?

After seeing her for the first time, I knew things would change around here, but I didn’t think they’d change like this. Not with someone literally trying to kill her.

Isn’t it enough that there’s already some monster roaming the forest, killing normies?

I make it to my room in record time and slam the door shut behind me. Then, I immediately change out of my soaking uniform, towel-dry my hair, and stare down at my pendant, which is still glowing faintly, pulsing ever so slightly in rhythm with my still frantic heartbeat.

What is going on?

First, I can’t stop subconsciously listening to Wednesday’s heartbeat, and now, the moment I touch her, my pendant starts glowing and it feels like the rug has been pulled out from beneath me.

I don’t know Wednesday. And yet… the moment she was in danger, I threw all caution to the wind, risking exposing some of my powers to anyone watching just to make sure she was okay.

And now my pendant won’t stop glowing.

It’s small, no bigger than the pad of a finger, and carved from a smooth, dark metal that almost looks black until the light hits it just right, revealing the faintest sheen of deep gold beneath the surface.

Etched into the center is a delicate symbol: three parallel lines cutting through a single circle, the one in the middle slightly longer than the others.

I don’t know where it came from, but I’ve had it since I was born, and it’s the only thing that connects me to my birth parents, who I’ve never met.

I was raised in foster care until I was eight, before getting adopted. I was finally living a nice, secure life for five years or so, but then my powers showed up and I accidentally ripped a door off its hinges during a game of hide and seek.

It scared my adoptive parents so badly, they immediately took me to Nevermore and left me here, fearing I would someday hurt them or my, what I considered, younger sister Lara, who was their biological child.

Of course I told them I never would, but they weren’t willing to take a chance on me, choosing instead to hand me over to Weems like I was a problem to be dealt with.

Luckily, Weems took me in with open arms.

She made me feel welcome and wanted, despite being literally abandoned for the second time in my life

She even helped me figure out what kind of outcast I actually am.

It took a while, but when we finally did figure it out, she turned pale and told me never to tell anyone else because it would put me in danger.

She got rid of every book in the library that even hinted at what I am because the risk was too high. Well… she got rid of all but one book.

It’s hidden in the Nightshades’ library, just in case I ever have questions, like right now.

I’m too shaken up to make my way all the way there tonight though, so I tuck my necklace back beneath my shirt, climb into bed, and put on my headphones to try and drown out the outside world.

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Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy

[enviedear]

my modern!jace hcs and thoughts…

request ⊹ jacaerys masterlist

౨ৎ ┄───────╮ got a bit carried away with what was supposed to be hcs... but i can't help it! modern!jace scratches an itch somewhere in my brain—especially lawyer/law student!jace. don't question the family dynamics too much for this au. i don't have the brain capacity to rearrange and fix that mess <3

╰───────┄ ౨ৎ

twenty-two and a recent graduate. he majored in law with a minor in public policy. his younger brother, lucerys, makes frequent comments about how boring it all must be, but jacaerys velaryon loves it. he’s following the family line, after all.

he took office at one of his mother’s law firms, a by-product of having a family in the affairs of state. however, the firm is actually headed by his mother’s aunt, rhaenys. his mother, rhaenyra is in the middle of an election, running opposite otto hightower—a man jacaerys is lax to admit kinship to.

on paper he’s an associate, in practice, he’s whatever his family and their board need him to be. he likes it that way—being dependable.

he has such a large family, even disregarding those somewhat estranged. if you asked him to directly place everyone to their respective titles he couldn’t, so he settles for the ease of endless uncles, aunts, and cousins.

his schedule is usually packed—so when he is free, he likes to spend his time well. his best friend, cregan, gets him out of the house most the time. an easy task since the stark family owns numerous ski resorts. a perfect respite from his life of public service, at least that’s what cregan says.

jace absolutely hates the media, not necessarily social media though. his instagram stories are frequently full of reposts or camera roll dumps, his twitter constantly active but he mourns public likes. he loves to engage with factitious headlines about himself and his family, to his mother’s chagrin. he’s blocked on all social media by the estranged hightower news, headed by his mother’s old friend turned step-mother, alicent. a topic the family attempts to gloss over when in public.

has a laundry list of fashion houses at his disposal. he went viral once for “mogging” in armani at his grandfather’s funeral. he drunkenly admitted after the service that he figured viserys would have deemed it a rather lovely suit, despite the occasion. mostly, he shares his uncle laenor’s love for couture, a man who is firm in belief that a bit of pageantry never hurt anyone. almost exclusively wears canali for everyday wear, a luxury his paychecks find no issue with fulfilling.

listens to every single book he 'reads'. his airpods are constantly in his ears but he rarely opts for music. he listens to the greats on repeat, or at least that's what he calls them—near constant loops of orwell and machiavelli. he has a guilty pleasure for brandon sanderson novels though.

jacaerys is embarrassed to have a chauffeur for any and all events with his family, but he does an excellent job at hiding it. he’s is chronically good at masking any signs of disdain. his family would tell you he’s perfectly agreeable— his brothers, lucerys and joffrey, know him better, can spot his muddled ill temper through anything. he can hold his tongue most of the time, far better than the rest of his family, but he’s known to have his moments.

on his own, he drives a aston martin valour. wrapped olive green with burnt orange accents. it was pricey, a fact his uncle corlys never ceases to remind him of, but he loves it. gave it a name and everything—vermax.

the only cousins he talks to regularly are the twins, baela and rhaena. they flock together during board meetings, three ideal images of the pristine image their family attempts to portray. he and baela are most like minded, so much so that the rest of the board jokes they’re reading each others minds.

on the opposite end of the spectrum, alicent’s children— aegon, aemond, and helena, are of much different minds. the eldest of the them is prepped to take over his grandfather’s media empire. a complete disaster waiting to happen given aegon’s incessant and very public bad behavior. jace figures the young man more of a puppet if anything. the second born is somehow an even worse case, behavior less public but far more… sadistic. aemond is known in well to do social circles for his vitriol, mouth constantly fixed to land a cutting blow.

the youngest, helena, is actually quite sweet albeit heavily reclusive. she’s the founder of several successful ventures, thrust into the spotlight at a young age. these days the most the public get from her is a monthly blog update—refined and well crafted—detailing a mix of what she learned that month and a few run-on sentences about insects. but she always finds time for him at their disjointed family events, no matter the animosity in the room. she’s one of his favorite people to talk to. jace swears that somehow, she always knows just what to say.

on sunday’s he winds up at one of his uncle daemon’s golf courses. am agreement he took up after the death of viserys. his uncle is lonely without his brother, and he’s never had to tell jace that for him to know it. jace is rather shit at the sport, but he’s found that as long as daemon has a drink in his hand, nothing will be commented on. sometimes luke will tag along just to gloat, his younger brother has always been at golf.

every christmas he takes his siblings on a hunt. just like their dad, harwin, used to. it’s gotten to be a big deal after so many years. his mother often reminds him, jokingly, that he is the reason their home has become the holiday stomping grounds. he’s replied back many times that at least that saves them from the hightower’s grounds, and their brutish security detail. headed by one criston cole, he’s has never gotten a good feel for the man—or the men under his command.

jace can’t fall asleep without some form of auditory stimulation. he blames laenor, always gifting a young jace pirated lullaby cd’s… for some reason. nowadays, he’s usually a listening to a history podcast before bed. never picky on the topic or timeframe, he could listen to the tales of the past forever.

additionally—jacaerys loves linguistics. if you looked through his search history you’d find the following searches: why do we feel different when speaking in a different language? / are there languages with no numbers? / what happened to the transatlantic accent? / “where did the word ‘cocktail’ come from?

he has successfully created and maintained a masked dj persona after a drunken dare in ibiza from rhaena. he’s booked a handful of gigs, all without his name attached to it. rhaena keeps it a secret, at the promise she gets to accompany him at her own whim.

jace has only ever publicly has had one relationship. he dated cregan’s half-sister for a few years, sara. sure he had to deal with his best friends griping for a few years, but he really did love the girl. they broke up due to their schedules, moreso, his schedule. he promised baela he won’t make the same mistake in his next relationship.

he never has trouble finding people to fawn over him, but he does have a horrible issue with committing. not that he wants to play the field or hurt hearts, but he truly believes no one will ever give him the grace he needs to feel secure in the relationship. he feels like he already has too much baggage, carrying his own and his family’s. at this point, he’d rather have a few hookups as opposed to being let down—jacaerys hates that the most about himself, above all else.

that’s why he so confused as of late. unable to seem get his mind off of someone—something completely unaccustomed to him. you’re fresh at the firm, relegated to coffee runs and still straight to the book but god—jace thinks you're perfect.

he didn't even fully grasp his fixation on you until asking himself why on earth he keeps volunteering you to sit in on his client meetings. he almost shutters everytime he remembers the stupid excuse he forced out after you dared to ask him why—"i just write so slow, and i don't want to miss anything." a lie. jacaerys could tune out a client for an entire session and still win a case, but he determined early he'd rather bask in yout presence instead. however diluted he must keep his feelings...

[thrawns-backrest]

A guide to chiss fashion

Alright, it’s finally done. I’ve managed to compile my headcanons in a format I’m more or less happy with so say hello to the chiss fashion guide. As I’ve said before, this is a homage to my love for fashion history and fashion illustration books so it’s written in the same(ish) kind of style, with made-up history and trivia behind it.

Mind you this isn’t about what your regular civilians wear – I can’t even begin to imagine what the spectrum of current fashion looks like for a species spread over multiple planets, that’s too much of a tall order.

Instead I’ll talk about what I imagine as ‘standard traditional wear’. A kind of traditional ensemble for formal occasions which is also the accepted dress code for the upper ruling classes and administration. The books give us many indications of how hung up the chiss are on rank so I imagine their fashion reflects that accordingly, with dress codes and etiquette and whatnot.

So without further ado, let’s start with structure.

The typical traditional ensemble consists of: underwear (plus any additional thermal underlayers), an underrobe, outerwrap robe, jacket (optional, mostly decorative) and top robe or coat (not pictured) for more severe weather and outdoor activities.

First we have the underwear layer (1) with a wraparound robe which can be long or short depending on the season, breeches and any other additional thermal layers underneath.

Next comes the underrobe (2) with a high buttoned collar and fitted sleeves. A slit starts at around chest level and ends in the usual overlap pattern at the ankles. This hem is often embroidered and is meant to be visible under the outerwrap robe.

This robe is also what I imagine is used as lounge wear at home (sometimes accompanied by a lounge robe) or as an outer layer in warmer climates and casual settings, though it’s usually decorated with accessories to make up for how plain it is. Some underrobes, especially padded styles for colder weather, have a waist string to pull excess material in in preparation for the layers to come.

Underrobes for low ranking administration are traditionally red, symbolizing specific qualities, but more on color symbolism later.

Then we have the outerwrap robe (3) with its flared bottom and sleeves which are also typically decorated. The outermost edge of the hem is important here because that’s where the trim that shows family allegiance goes.

These robes are closed with a pair of strings (usually at waist level but may be higher or lower depending on current trends) and the kind of knot used varies depending on social standing and occupation, again, a reflection of how classist the chiss are in my mind. For lower class administration, in case the knot is obscured by a decorative item (like a jacket or scarf), the item is required to have strings of its own where the knot can be duplicated.

The next part of the outfit is the jacket (4) which also varies in style depending on the wearer’s rank. A popular style for low ranking administrators is a waist or thigh level boxy cut with rectangular sleeves that don’t cover the embroidered hems of the robe under it.

Jackets can have individual trims and even small lapels. Structured shoulders and wide lapels are inappropriate as they’re reserved for upper level Aristocra.

Despite their popularity, these jackets aren’t a practical item since their cut provides little insulation and they prevent the use of garments like top robes and coats. Because of this they are either meant to be taken off or worn with cloak-like outer layers outdoors.

Fashion, especially that of the high class, is rarely all practical so I think it’s neat to include elements that are less functional and more so trendy, decorative or appropriate.

This goes in the opposite direction as well and I imagine there being plenty of modern modifications like hidden zippers for easier donning and a variety of false hems, cuffs and collars to minimize layering, making the outfits more functional.

As long as the overall silhouette and main elements are retained, the outfit is considered appropriate though more formal events are usually attended in proper full traditional wear.

Next we have accessories.

The most common ways to accessorize in traditional ensembles are scarves, jewelry, fans, and a variety of trims. Scarves are normally worn between layers and can be used to cover up the open hole at the neck in colder settings. The long sleeves make bracelets impractical but earrings and necklaces are hugely popular. Handheld fans are also a stylish way to elevate the outfit and different kinds of trims like feather and fur are used in less formal settings.

With all that in mind a complete outfit ends up looking something like (5).

Moving on to Syndics:

(traditional silhouette and some images of syndics to show the range of variety available to them)

With Syndics we start to see the appearance of structured shoulders (a strictly upper class element) and more extravagant lapels, particularly in jackets. Still no structured collars however as these are reserved for Patriarchs. Jackets, in contrast to those worn by lower ranking administrators, are longer and made of soft, flowing fabrics like silk, with the goal being to show off expensive materials and dyes (hence rich colors and light silky textures).

Proper etiquette regarding underrobes and outerwrap robes remains the same with one exception being the waist knot: higher ranking syndics aren’t required to replicate the knot if it’s covered by an overgarment or accessory (a syndic’s status is obvious from other elements of their outfit).

In general Syndics are the echelon with the most freedom when it comes to their fashion. With the exception of some traditional elements, there’s more room for variation in accessories, cuts and combinations: Low ranking Administrators need to follow a stricter dress code while Patriarchs are limited by the need to project a certain image so you see the most variety in the fashion of Syndics, the only exception being extremely formal events and ceremonies where the traditional silhouette is a must.

(Syndic Zistalmu with a more personalized interpretation of the traditional structured shoulders.)

And finally, there’s Patriarchs.

Patriarchs, in my mind, have the strictest and most elaborate dress code. Their outfits retain the most traditional elements so they’re like a walking museum piece in, sometimes literally because many of the pieces they wear are hereditary and come from famous artisans.

With Patriarchs we see floor-length jackets, very wide lapels, often with opulent linings like patterned velvet, structured collars (attached to the jacket separately), decorative skirts, silk undergarments and elaborate headwear. In addition, their outerwrap robes fasten with two twin knots rather than one.

Most if not all of these elements are strictly reserved for Patriarchs so they’re instantly recognizable.

The jackets are both long-sleeved and sleeveless depending on how lavish the robe underneath is and the wearer’s desire to show it off.

The separately attached collars are distinct and were originally meant to demonstrate proper posture, fitting best when the wearer was standing or sitting upright. Their rigidity and restrictiveness has decreased over time but they still serve to highlight the wearer’s stance.

The collars are the only element I think I’m willing to allow for Patriels as well, albeit I imagine them a bit more understated. I’m still in two minds about the rest.

For Patriarchs, the top of the white underwear robe is also visible above the underrobe collar – normally underwear garments are supposed to be concealed but these robes were given tall necklines to prevent chafing to the neck from the structured collars worn on top. In order to do that they were made from fine silk which eventually became a status symbol, both because of the expensive material and the fact that they were used in combination with structured collars and nowadays the high collar of the robe is visible at the neck.

The overskirt (pictured above and fastened with strings) is the most traditional element of the ensemble. It’s become obscure in other ranks and is distinctive as a result. The pleating is meant to demonstrate an abundance of fabric, usually heavy patterned or embroidered velvets, and I imagine these pieces to be especially heavy. Its only purpose is for layering and decoration.

Somewhat counterintuitively, Patriarch robes have less lavish lower hems (absent the usual flared shape and no trailing fabrics) to allow for ease of movement and compensate for the extra weight added by the rest of a Partiarch’s accessories. And when I say these outfits are heavy, I mean heavy.

Ceremonial robes in particular are notoriously a nightmare to wear and require practice and a good bit of stamina.

(ceremonial robes)

In terms of curiosities, the Stybla are an interesting case both because their Patriarch is allowed to wear ruling family regalia despite not being one of the nine and because they preserve some older elements in their garments from the time they were the only ruling family. Like the gold pin with their family crest, attached to the lapel. The curled hair style and ‘sun’ style headpiece are also elements that go in and out of Patriarch fashion but the Stybla stick to them because that’s the style that was prevalent in their heyday.

All of this is for the purpose of projecting the image of an innocuous quaint old family that still clings to its ‘faded’ glory.

Now for headdresses. There’s three main styles of headdress, labelled ‘moon, ‘planet’ and ‘sun’ accordingly. The main circular elements are meant to display family crests and can have various additional accessories attached to them like chains and ornaments.

I imagine there used to be more styles, at one point as many as the ruling families, but in time as fashions shifted they boiled down to the three main ones. These are usually worn with the traditional long hairstyles that all patriarchs conform to and are attached using a system of clips and pins to the topknot at the back.

The hairstyle itself is known as the ‘waterfall’ style, inspired by a classical style of sculpture.

Pictured below is a ceremonial style headpiece which are only worn at the most formal traditional ceremonies.

In general, these headdresses are somewhat unwieldly and unstable if the wearer moves too suddenly. This is again intentional as similarly to the collars restricting posture, it’s meant to restrict movement to ‘slow’ and ‘deliberate’.

And finally we have color symbolism

This is something I imagine as very important for no other reason than it gives me another fun element to play around with so let’s get into it.

In general, a chiss outfit is mainly made up of cool colors and a few warmer highlights though that can sometimes be flipped depending on the wearer’s preference or current trends. Overall there’s a preference for cooler colors and those close to the chiss’ natural coloration (skin and eyes) which also has biological reasoning but more on that later.

Most importantly, colors have culturally established symbolic associations, meaning the wearer can choose qualities they want to emphasize through their choice of color. This is often done through statement pieces to make the choice stand out, such as: eye catching clothing items or accessories, wear frequency, color predomination, etc. Often times the colors don’t reflect the wearer’s true qualities but rather the image they’re trying to project.

Because of the complexity of this system, most Aristocra rely on tailors and stylists to construct their outfits (and by extension public image) for them.

There’s also the so called ‘military colors’ (black and white) which are reserved for the army and navy and are only used as highlights in non-military contexts or by off-duty members of the military:

(General Ba'kif depicted in military colors with Stybla teal, decorative fan and robe trimming)

Colors are divided into ‘cardinal colors’ with long established traditional meaning and secondary ones whose meaning is fluid and depends on current trends. The cardinal color symbols are as follows:

Blue – order, duty, perseverance Red – passion, diligence, honor Purple – firmness, reliability Magenta – innovation, farsightedness, creativity, individuality, self-assurance Green – steadfastness, calm, security Orange – boldness, confrontation, certainty in battle Yellow – vitality, energy, enthusiasm Black – stability White – prestige, perfection, glory

(In chiss culture, light blue is a separate color from dark blue. The blue referred to here is what is commonly referred to as dark blue.)

Sometimes colors can be divorced from traditional meanings like when they’re used to denote family allegiance or as secondary colors meant to just compliment a palette. The color symbolism system is also all but irrelevant for the general public where trends and personal preferences take priority.

It still carries a lot of weight in the upper classes, however. For example, low ranking administrators are expected to wear red underrobes to symbolize their dedication and diligence.

An example of how colors can be used to make a political statement is Patriarch Thurfian, who upon being promoted to his post adopted a color palette of blue, purple and green to indicate a stable, orderly and traditional rule as opposed to Thooraki’s more maverick politics and preference for warm reds, yellows and magentas.

(Patriarch Thurfian in characteristic blue palette with 'moon' style headdress and purple collar. The jacket is sleeveless, showing off the decoration of the outerwrap robe sleeves.)

Overall, there are many ways to use color to indicate meaning. Warm vibrant colors are in general a bold choice so they’re seen as more of a statement, like for example a bright yellow scarf.

Syndic Thrass favored a bright magenta jacket with wide short-cut sleeves to emphasize his charisma. Zistalmu is an example of a more fashion-forward choice with a predominantly maroon color palette, a secondary color with fluctuating meaning. Colors can also underline subtle family and political allegiances, like Ba’kif wearing teal (a color traditionally associated with the Stybla) as a highlight color off duty.

Lastly, biology also plays a part in color preference, albeit a minor one. (Disclaimer, I’m not a biologist so take this section with a grain of salt.)

Unlike humans, chiss are tetrachromats, meaning they have four types of light-sensitive cone cells in their eyes. In addition to the cones most sensitive to short (blue), medium (green) and long (red) wavelengths, the ones found in humans, they also have ones that respond to the infrared spectrum, giving them their infrared vision.

They also, unlike humans, have a higher number of blue sensitive cones and a very low number of red sensitive ones. This is because even before Csilla’s shift to a cooler climate, the flora and fauna of their world had predominantly blue pigmentation, the same pigment that gives them their skin color, which is the main evolutionary reason for their sensitivity to blue.

This imbalance is somewhat made up for by their infrared receptors, as infrared is next to red on the spectrum, but the low number of red sensitive cones means they’re not as sensitive to shades of orange and yellow.

Despite this, they still use these colors in their wardrobe (albeit less frequently and with less variety) and the rarity itself has contributed to the specialness of their meaning. Red in particular has proved itself an enduring staple because of its presence in the color palette of natural chiss pigmentation.

The rarity of these colors could also explain why they’re assigned traditionally less desirable virtues in the color symbolism system.

(secretary Ronan (Lyron) as I imagine him in my fic, with a red administrator underrobe, embroidered outerwrap robe, and yellow scarf as statement piece accessory.)

I’ve also toyed with the idea that the bioluminescent properties of their eyes interfere with the natural perception of colors (much like a red filter) which has led to an adaptation where the brain filters out the excess light in the red spectrum, making them even less sensitive to different shades of red and its adjacent colors. It’s an adaptation similar to that which allows most species to filter out constant monotonous background noise to aid hearing.

But that’s another thing I’m in two minds about as it complicates things further and I’m not too sure of the biological mechanics of it.