there you have it once again folks



A big thank you to the folks at twitter who gave me great ideas. I tried to put them all in one picture. Ichigo shouldn’t have made Grimmjow any promises he couldn’t keep. Who cares if it’s 3am? He wants his fight! 

anonymous asked:

hey, it's your Samwell bake sales anon! can we get a nhl fundraiser follow-up? I mean, if you're so inspired.

original bake sale fic

“… well, I have to say, Mark, we always say that hockey can be a violent sport but this game is downright– good lord that check was brutal!”

“Yes, Zimmermann is looking to the ref for a call on that one. He’s not going to get it, but some heated words are being exchanged.”

“You know, I think Jack might actually get into a fight this game. He usually avoids it but–”

“It doesn’t really make any sense. The Aces and the Falcs are rivals, to be sure, after facing off in four Stanley Cup finals, but they usually keep it clean. There’s a lot of respect on both sides.”

“Not this game. I thought Zimms and Parse had buried the hatchet after some tense years early on playing against each other but this is vicious.”

“And Tater has just gone after Troy Swoops again. Or no, wait, Troy has gone after Tater. They’ve already fought once but a trip to the bin does not seem to have cooled them down at all.”

“This really isn’t making any sense. Lately, social media would have us believe that these two teams are quite close. Both have been at the forefront of LGBTQ issues and are huge donors to ‘You Can Play’ and– well, now Thirdy is shoving Ethan Vanderbu– Yup, it’s another fight.”

“Thirdy and Vander this time. For the folks just tuning in, this is the third fight between Falcs and Aces this game.”

“And it’s still the first period.”

“And it’s November.”

“No reason at all for this type of animosity.”

“Oh, no, it looks like this is turning into a bit of a brawl. Lots of things being said here. In fact– let’s cut down and see if any of our mics are picking up some of what’s going on. Diana, down to you.”

“Yes, William, so from what I understand, I think the root cause of these issues is something to do with… a fundraiser?”

“There was that NFL/You can Play fundraiser just last night. Both teams were in attendance. You’re saying that’s where the problem started?”

“I think so, Mark. During the first fight between Tater and Lux, I heard something about blueberries? And here, listen in on this:”

Goddamn, Parse, you’ve got to let this go.”


“You didn’t have to pay it! It was a blind auction. You didn’t have to pay anything!”


“Well, obviously, that’s how much the pie is worth, Kenny. I just bid a fair price!”


“Ah, well, let’s cut away from that shall we. Clearly, this fundraiser left some sore feelings on both sides of the teams. I– oh, yes this a brawl now. Tater and Swoops are back at it.”

“And Snowy has left his goal and– it’s a goalie fight.”


“Could you move away from the rink a bit, Diana, your mic is picking up–”

“Well, Mark, it looks like the ref is giving penalties to– everyone.”

“Yes. Everyone is going to the bin. Literally everyone on the ice.”

“It’s going to be a hell of a time fitting in there.”

“Well… this is a bit ridiculous. Entirely unprofessional really, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I actually managed to snag a peach pie at yesterday’s fundraiser and let me just say it was literally the best thing I’ve ever put in my–”


*fight breaks out in announcer’s booth*

Another Wednesday, another Hiveswap development team interview!

Hey there folks, we’re back to our new normal: it’s Ash here once again! I’ve returned from my brief outing to E3 last week and – don’t you worry – I’ve got a brand-new Hiveswap development team interview lined up for you today, just as scheduled!

But before we get to that, I’d like to toss a great, big “Thanks, man!” Cohen’s way for posting last week’s interview in my stead and, in fact, interviewing me so I didn’t have to very awkwardly interview myself. I may not be a super-cool artist or animator, but hopefully you all found what I had to say to be sufficiently interesting nonetheless!

But speaking of our illustrious creative types, today I’ve got an interview lined up with James Roach, Hiveswap’s sound designer and lead composer! These weekly interviews have been focusing mostly on the game’s visual elements and aspects up to now, but why should eyes get all the love? Not that eyes aren’t awesome and all, but I have it on good authority that ears everywhere are also looking forward to Hiveswap. Fortunately, James has very graciously prepared a smattering of Hiveswap sound samples for you to listen to as you read through the interview, so be sure to get equipped with some headphones before you begin!

Take it away, James!

Introduce yourself to the fans! What is your specific role on the Hiveswap team?

I’m James Roach, and I’m the Sound Designer for Hiveswap! I teamed up with [Undertale creator and composer] Toby Fox to compose the soundtrack for the game. I’m also responsible for most of the game’s sound effects and ambient sound alongside Marcy Nabors!

When and how did you get your start on the Hiveswap project?

When I saw the opportunity I reached out to What Pumpkin and sent along my portfolio. I was never part of the “Homestuck music team” in any official capacity, but I was pretty active in the community, so they knew of my work. I was as surprised as any of you when they offered me a job! They paired me up with Toby, who at that point was already a Homestuck music veteran. We’ve both been on the project ever since then.

Tell us a little bit about your career background! How did you get your start in music and sound design? Do you have any advice for others looking to enter this field?

I have been playing piano since I was about four years old. My family and culture have a strong musical tradition, and my mom thought playing music would keep me out of trouble. I got my start scoring web cartoons and doing freelance work. I only started doing sound design in the last few years out of necessity. A friend needed sound work done for their thesis film and had nobody else to do it, and I can’t leave a friend hanging! As far as advice goes, I recommend having your work accessible and easy to find. Make connections and be easy to work with. Being reliable, consistent, and professional will go a lot further than solely being good at something.

We’re making a video game, so of course the question must be asked: what’s your favorite game of all time, and what games are you playing currently?

The first game I remember having a big impact on me was The Legend of Zelda on the NES. My favorite game of all time is probably Bastion, but I don’t play a ton of video games anymore. I play a lot of Dungeons & Dragons. It’s all I ever talk about. My friends are so tired of me. Anyway, did you know a group of Myconids is called a “Circle?” Myconids are like cool mushroom guys that live underground. A lot of people think they might have a hive mind, but did you know they communicate using spores? Another cool thing about Myconids is–

Are there any games that you currently use or have used as inspiration for your own music and sound work here on Hiveswap, or just in general?

Obvious notes are stuff like Transistor, Luigi’s Mansion, Monkey Island, and so on and so forth. A lot of the inspiration for Hiveswap’s soundtrack comes less from games and more from my own musical and cultural background. There’s also a third-wave ska song. I have a really complicated relationship with ska.

As someone who writes music for video games, surely you must have a favorite video game composer or two (or three)! Who are they and what games have they scored?

You can’t talk about video game music without mentioning Nobuo Uematsu (the Final Fantasy series’ original composer) in some capacity, and his work has always been an inspiration to me. I think there’s an obvious Darren Korb (Supergiant Games) influence on my work as well. I’m really looking forward to hearing more of the Pyre soundtrack. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that Toby has greatly influenced my work, since I worked with him specifically on this, but he absolutely has. The way he writes counter-melodies is phenomenal.

What’s your workstation like? Do you listen to any particular kinds of music while you work? If so, tell us about it!

Because I’ve been doing a lot of Foley work, I have this bizarre assortment of things lying around everywhere in my apartment for the weird, specific sounds they make. I’ve had this bundle of straws (which I flick rapidly to make monster footstep sounds) on my desk for weeks. There’s a broken umbrella (perfect for a monster’s wing flapping) hanging on the door, and a big pot with a fork and a broken slinky in it (scraped and slapped together to make creepy, echoey laser sounds) just lying around too. It’s a disaster to live in.

Favorite Homestuck character?

Aradia Megido.

Favorite Homestuck ship?

I used to be all about Intermission shipping, but it’s a little complicated to get into.

Favorite Homestuck flash?

I think like most people who started reading as a carryover from Problem Sleuth, “WV: Ascend” was the big “Whoa!” moment for me, so it’s always had a special place in my heart.

Do you have a personal message you’d like to relay to all the Homestuck and Hiveswap fans out there?


Where can people find more of your work? Link us to your own little corner(s) of the Internet!

Whenever you close your eyes and open your heart… I will be there. No, I’m kidding – please follow me. You can find me on Twitter and SoundCloud!

“Can’t hoooold on much longer… But I will neeee-ver let go!…” –oh, wait, I’m back on? Sorry about that, James’ last answer there brought out my inner Crush 40 fanboy. (Sonic Adventure had a killer soundtrack though, didn’t it?) Thank you again for letting us pick your brain for a while, James – and for those lovely sound samples, of course!


Woo, 1K!

It’s that time again, folks! Time to celebrate another milestone, this time at THE BIG 1000. I’m only nearly 100 followers late this time, all thanks to a massive surge of new people from reblogs of the Land of Labyrinths and Libraries.

For your consideration on this special occasion I give you this sicknasty

Thank you all, once again, for your continued support and interest.

The Land of Cults and Chandeliers: Part 2

Part one can be found here.

The chameleons living here have been working on monuments for each of the previous milestones, and are downright giddy to be bringing you a fourth digit this time round. So excited, in fact, that they wanted to display it where they live rather than the topside dust-bowl which has come to characterise the endless search for new and interesting lands to share with you (and the background of the blog!).

Of course, there was a lot of competition over which chandelier city would be host to the new carving, especially with how competitive they all were before, but in the end a decision was made and they picked a spot. The cultists try to keep their composure, but their excitement is palpable.

The Land of Cults and Chandeliers was described just over a year ago by the wonderful and talented @classpectanon. Provide a classpect and some personality strengths and weaknesses and you too could have a slick land and quest described for you!

Wow these took a while! Lots to see, lots to do. Fun to be revisiting the first land I ever drew, seeing how my skills have changed and evolved over the last year.

Fun fact: I am “bad” at character art. I can draw it, but it takes me a damn long time. The character part of the final image took as much time as the rest of it did, easily. That said, that’s the first character art I’ve really been proud of in a long time. Feels good.

Keep your eyes peeled for a proper post about the Land of Mist and Heat sometime soon, and here’s to many more milestones to come.

Send To All

Originally posted by ohstylesno

Requested by anonymous:

“hey there! I don’t know if you’re still doing 1D requests but I was wondering if I could request a Harry Styles imagine?? idk if you know of it but there’s a comedian called michael mcintyre who has a chat show and he has a segment called ‘send to all’ where he sends a mass text from the guests phone and reads the replies - anyways I was wondering if you could do a request where the reader is a celebrity and secretly dating Harry and their relationship gets exposed or something through this?? xx”

Warnings: None?? tiny bit of language and fluff I suppose

Notes: This gif has no relevance it just fucking kills me omg (also I’m so excited to write for harry eek)

“Good luck love, I know you’ll be amazing as always. Thinking of you and can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms tomorrow. H x” 

You felt your heart constrict and a buzz fill your body, a smile tugging up on your lips as your eyes scanned over the text your boyfriend had just sent you. Your thumbs hovered anxiously over the keyboard as you mulled over what you should reply with. You had just decided on replying with words teasing him about how he signed his texts just like his tweets when you were interrupted. 

“*yn*, we’re ready for you.” 

Keep reading

Well, here we are again folks. Time for me to once again talk about the people I love to no end. I hope you’re ready, because this is a long one. Also, yes, I’m using the same graphic as last time. Leave me alone.

All I have to say to all you lovely people this time around is that I love you all very much and am very appreciative of this community existing, because I’ve made some very amazing friends here and increased my love of hockey infinitely because of you wonderful people. I feel like I’ve grown and changed a lot in my own personal life due to being on hockey tumblr and the people that I’ve met here and interacted with, and it’s only been positive growth and change. I think that people talk a lot of shit about internet communities and how toxic they can be, and while sometimes that may be true, you folks always shock and surprise me with how wonderful, lovely and supportive you can all be. I appreciate it endlessly, and I hope it never changes. So thanks for 1,000 followers (that’s insane) and let’s get started!



A – F

@aaronekdad / @a-burakovsky / @actualalienbensmith / @adammcquaidschesthair / @adhdrichietozier / @aleccmartinez / @alexazeek / @always-next-year / @andre-baerakovsky / @andreburakovskyisgod / @andreburakvsky /  @andrei-vasilevskiy / @antoinecroissantwrenchroussel / @archiebradley / @artturi-lehky / @asinglegoldenknight / @atlantathrasher / @austohmatthews / @aust34n / @backstrcm / @badgalkadri / @baehutt10 / @bennjuice / @billnylander / @bisexualbastian / @bortuzzo / @brassard-derick / @bravdenschenn / @brendanlipstick / @brendansmittys / @buchneviched / @buckypuck / @bura-babe / @burracudaa / @calisavagebunny / @camtalbottt / @cannolimaatta / @cantevenskate / @capmorielly / @captainmitchmarner / @captainpoulin / @captkentparson / @carey-pric31ess / @cargojorts / @casual-toronto-trash / @charliekapanen / @charliesnackavoy / @coltonparakyo / @connor-mcdavo / @connormcdazzle / @connormcskellington / @connormxdavid / @connrbrowns / @coolmatthews / @countvanriemsdick / @crouses / @crown-city-or-die / @crxsschecked / @daddyseggy / @daisiesmakingchains / @damnwassup / @detroitundeadwings / @devinscore / @dougiehamiltons / @drai-29 / @draisaitl29 / @dt-brown / @dubnyk / @dvlanlarkin / @dylanlarkin / @eat-sleep-leafs / @edmontonkailers / @ekmanlarssons / @explore-a-little / @flowbros / @fornothingisevilinthebeginning / @fratboyhanifin / @freddieandersens / @fuckhockeybutalsofuckhockey / @fuckin-hockey / @fuckleafs

G – L

@gallysburger / @gallysgrin / @generichawkeyblog / @getmewiththosegreeneyes / @gingerbrownie / @goldenknghts / @gorditx / @hakunimaatta / @handcraftedweedorange / @henrikzetterbergs / @hertls-smile / @hockey–eh / @hockeygrandpa / @hockeyinspires / @hockeyisallineed / @hockeyisreligion / @holtbaest / @hrtfrdwhlrs / @hunkdqvist / @h2ofireyrage / @icantbelievesomeone / @icechild-josi / @ice-ice-hockey / @icesonice / @imaginarydaze / @impekkablerinne / @itsyourboykent / @ivanprovolone / @jagr-trash / @jakegardiner / @jamesneal / @jaybeaglefans / @jimbovesey / @jimmyskjei / @jimmyveseysfreecoffee / @johnnyandmony / @joshhodang / @joyousramblings / @juicysaros / @justhockey / @karilehtonens / @kasperikapanenisbetterthanyou / @kassu-kapanen / @kaz-in-the-impala / @kdraj82 / @knightsduke / @koilers / @konecyourself / @korpisalos / @kuuuuuuuuuch / @kyamamoto / @larkintrash / @leafstrashtm / @leafystephens / @letangandlefleury / @lifeasaeuropeanhockeyfan / @lindholmz / @lottswrites / @lovve-beyond-words / @lowkeyhawkey /

M – R

@maattdaddy / @man-tha / @maplelaughs / @mapleleafstrash / @mapleloafs / @maple-loafs / @maplesleaf / @marner-rielly / @marnershair / @marnsteejsegs / @marnsxmatts / @martinfrks / @mattsmartsmarns / @mattystrome / @mcdraii / @mcmarns / @minourouss / @mitchellmarnthews / @mitchmarnerssmile / @mitchy-marnrs / @mitchy-marns / @mitchymarnsy / @mmmlatta / @mo-gardiner / @moriellly / @moriellymolove / @motoleafs / @mrazzy / @mvpleleafs / @mvtchmarner / @mybbynylander / @mystupidlovesongs / @nazem-kadream / @nazemkadri / @nevmar / @nhl-canes / @nhloffseason / @niederreiter22 / @nkadri / @nohappinessleague / @nolan-hatrick / @nolanjamespatrick / @nolannpatrick / @noseriouslythisis / @notbuddies / @nugentthopkins / @n-ylander / @nylanderr / @nyland3r / @nymarnthews / @ohmygoshhockey / @ohmy-hockeyplayers / @ohmymarner / @oilersluv / @onhomeice / @ottermcdavid / @panic-at-the-goalline / @paraykhoe / @pastasmynood / @pavszacha / @penaltyboxprincess / @pernellkarl / @phatrickmaroon / @philadelphiaflyernolanpatrick / @phoenixcoyotes / @pillsburymcavoy / @pksuburban / @ptuukkadactyl / @puckfucker / @puckheads / @puckinghawkey / @pucking-willy / @puckstars / @puckslut34 / @quaider / @radicalradek / @rangers-of-newyork / @raskbrothas / @riellymo / @rightwingwilson / @rnarner / @ryan-macdount / @ryannugentpumpkins

S – Z

@saarijaervis / @saintpatrice / @savnasser / @sheary / @seanmcnahans / @sixteenthirtyfour / @skjeidy-bitch / @skjeiwhat / @sleepy-leafs / @smileyboymarner / @snarkylarky / @sodunwithhockeyfeels / @softauston / @softmarner / @spookylatta / @spookymarner / @starscapsleafs / @stepmom / @sunshinestromer / @sweetbbkuch / @takeitoff-leafs / @thealidoyle / @thegirlwhocriedsass / @theleafssuck / @theseleafsarealrightfam / @theoneandonlyzoe / @theseleafsarealright / @thirtyfours / @timomeier28 / @tomashrtls / @toothlessburns / @toronthoes / @torontomaplebros / @torontomaplegardens / @torontos / @travisdermott / @travlskonecny / @ttoronto2colorado / @turnshitoff / @tylersequin91 / @tysbarrie / @tyseguinbae / @tysonbarries / @unfriendlyspidey / @wannabepuckslut / @wennbergbabe / @werenskis / @werenzki / @whatcha-skjei / @whentheworldsleeps23 / @williamnylandersthighs / @willynylanders / @wllmnylndr / @wonthetrade / @yahadmeathockey / @yannigovrde / @yotes4life / @zaitsy / @zetterbeard

Extra lovin for my lovely friends under the cut!

Keep reading


Right, so I wanted to try and give myself a challenge here because a few folk pointed out to me that I tend to write a lot of quick and snappy scenes without really stopping for a moment. So here we go, this is my attempt at trying a nice, calm, development chapter. Sit down and relax, folks.

I also want to thank you all for 300 followers! It means so much to me, you have no clue! ;w;

Once again, this story is inspired by the 2D Bendy AU created by the wonderful @shinyzango!

I tried.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

oh my god i just read two rotten apples and holy fuck their relationship is so terrible i feel so bad for her goddamn idk why i feel so hurt but pls make jungkook suffer

anonymous asked:

yo… ik everyone will disagree wit me but the relationship in tra is just way too toxic like why do i feel like shit when even if im just the reader. im so fucking mad why is jungkook such an asshole n why is the oc so easy UDHDHJD

anonymous asked:

it fucks with my mind how horrible jk is to the oc in tra i didnt do anything productive today bc i felt like shit LMAO

drabble #3

COUNT → 3.519

GENRE → smut | crack

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | penis in mouth | explicit language | penetration | graphic dirty talk | dick riding | the occasional sarcastic quip

LINKS → 1 | 2 | 3 | 3.5COMING SOON

note → i didn’t have this in mind with the current story line of two rotten apples, which you can read the first part here. so kinda consider this drabble just like. i dont even know. i have no idea. i think as the story goes on. ill link the drabbles for where i think they are in the story. the other two happen later on so they wont be linked yet until more parts are released!!!!!!! anyway i wrote this in a state of anger and perspiration!!!!!!!!!!! if u dont like my characters. or dont like the story. u could just. consider this: close out of my blog and never come back. no one was forcing u to read this. so i didnt appreciate these msgs. i understand u were venting but u didnt even say anything positive about the story so how could u expect me to respond positively??? anyways g’nite

The skin of Elise’s knuckles lightened as her fists clenched on the kitchen counter. She’d been dicing onions for a breakfast omelette but Kale’s noises from upstairs were distracting her as they drifted to her ears from the vent above her head. The kitchen was directly below their shared bedroom, so she could hear every single sound he made, even the bed creaking under his weight.

Washing her hands quickly, she grabbed a nearby towel to dry them off before heading towards the long, twisting marble staircase leading to the upstairs hallway, following the grunts and groans of her beloved husband.

As she peered into the bedroom, she gasped at the sight before her. Kale was lounging on the mattress, a rose placed between his succulent lips and a single cut from one of the thorns garnishing his lower lip. He probably should’ve cut all the thorns off before placing it in his mouth but he was never the smart one. His chest glistened under the light of the full moon, even though just a few seconds ago, Elise was making a breakfast omelette and typically those are made in the morning. She just didn’t have a good concept of time and made breakfast omelettes at night and steaks at eight o’clock in the morning.

Keep reading

OK. Here’s why I’m not invested in a Roman Reigns vs John Cena match…

Now, they have 3 weeks to change my mind, and I’ll try to give them a chance, but so far, I’m not optimistic.

I see folks saying John decimated Roman on the mic on Monday. I’ll concede it was a good promo, but it was flawed and it’s just another reason why I don’t have any interest in this hastily thrown together feud. But allow me to delineate:

  1. Once again, during the contract signing Cena retreats to break the fourth wall to get over instead of staying in character. To paraphrase The Rock from 5 years ago when they had their feud, it’s a poor performer that has to break kayfabe to cut a good promo. If you can’t deliver in character, then you’re not as good as you think you are.
  2. Roman is getting nothing out of this match or this feud. Say what you will about Braun Strowman, he hasn’t put on a bad match yet with Roman. He’s constantly delivered and turned into a far more interesting character than who he was before his feud with Roman. And in return, Roman got a chance to play a different tone to his character during his feud with him. With The Undertaker, Roman got a freaking WrestleMania match with The Undertaker, a major feather in his cap even if Taker really isn’t retired. With the Authority, Roman got a title and a great storyline. With Kevin Owens and Chris Jericho, he got a title and another great storyline that had millions of us entertained. What’s he getting out of this bout with Cena? Nothing. Cena has nothing to offer, because as much as I’ve defended Cena over the years, he’s not bringing anything to the table that any number of other wrestlers aren’t already bringing. When he’s not a part of PPVs, I don’t miss him. And if his match with Baron Corbin is an indication, I won’t have a reason to miss him when he leaves again. Roman gets nothing out of this match at No Mercy. He had no reason to sign that contract. I know it’s a work, but so far, a war of words in the ring does not a great feud make.
  3. John is only getting cheered in this feud because haters want to see Roman lose, not because they want to see Cena win. It’s like people who voted for Trump because they didn’t want HRC to win. In the end, are you really “winning?” They don’t respect you, love. They just hate Roman more.
  4. For 2 years now, Roman’s matches have been a highlight of every PPV. Even when they aren’t 5-star matches, they still keep me glued to my seat. The last match John had that interested me the same way Roman’s matches do was with AJ Styles at 2016 SummerSlam. That was over a year ago. And a lot of that interest was due to AJ. So again, why would I assume Cena v Reigns to deliver something spectacular? Roman has been delivering consistently. John hasn’t created anything magical in a while.
  5. So far, these 2 have no chemistry in the ring. That could change over the next 3 weeks, but for now, it’s their names and positions in the company creating momentum for this match. Nothing has shown it will be a good one.
  6. And this is the big one: This storyline keeps perpetuating the falsehood that Roman is booed for legitimate reasons. The so-called same reasons Cena is booed, or something to that effect. And I absolutely hate that lie. I get the company doesn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room or the bigotry of their audience (especially since the company does a lot to stoke that flame in the name of entertainment). But Roman Reigns is not booed for the same reason as John Cena. Roman is booed because he doesn’t play the stereotype the audience wants him to be. Cena is booed because he appropriates a stereotype they know he’s not. For all Roman’s stilted dialogue that’s been written for him, he’s an authentic warrior with a heritage by nature and nurture to be a leader among men. On the other hand, Cena wears dog tags as an ornament. He played a thug to stand out from the locker room when he hasn’t stepped into a “hood” in his life, and he certainly didn’t grow up in one. I respect Cena because he works hard and I believe he genuinely loves the game, but his boos have never been about being a “corporate chosen one.” All title holders are chosen ones. If you think otherwise, you’ve been manipulated far more than you think. Cena is booed because haters think he’s inauthentic. And in many ways, they’re correct. Roman, on the other hand, is booed by haters because he comes across as someone too real for them to accept. They need him to be a stereotype. They need someone who will make them feel less threatened at the idea that someone like Joe Anoa'i exists – an intelligent, quiet, thinking man’s warrior. And until that’s addressed in this “feud,” it’s always going to feel like a hollow work where John is, once again, leeching off the swag of another culture to stand out from the crowd. Cena crossed brands to come at Roman. Roman didn’t come to Smackdown. Cena came to Raw. Because Cena needs Roman’s authenticity to bolster his persona. Roman doesn’t need sh!t from Cena because Roman – despite what his haters believe – is over as hell. And it’s based on something far more real than anything John has created in 15 years in the company.

So…. I sit here waiting for the writers to prove me wrong about this match-up. You have 3 weeks to show me this is worth my time. Otherwise, I’ll be spending this PPV match making a sandwich.

Originally posted by imthehuman

Unknown King

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Great Gatsby AU (sort of)

Summary: We’re readying GG right now in my American lit. class and let me tell yOU, this book is so beautifully written that I  could cry. It does not take place in the Roaring Twenties because I just didn’t want it to be that way. If you want to be added to the tag list tell me (THiS is A SERIES)

Word count: 1.2k+


Before you left home, your mother made sure that you knew the procedure when meeting someone new. “Be nice and never left them know you hate them if you do,” She had said. “But more importantly, try to fit in.” You had moved to New York, still living in a dream. You got a job as a journalist and hoped to become an author one day. Though you hadn’t even begun writing your book, you decided a new location would inspire you.

So you left your small town home to the Big Apple. You had enough money to get you through five months of necessities and hoped your journalist job at The Report would do you justice. You really didn’t know that your home was in the middle of one of the most wealthy parts of town. It was the cheapest home up for sale and now you knew why. There were photos but those must’ve been taken years ago. The paint job looked sloppy and it looked like your home would fall apart any second. The garden did, however, make up for it.

Your gaze moved to your neighbor’s home. Though it didn’t look like a home, more like a palace. It was grand and made your abode look like a shack where they kept the gardening tools. If people passed by, they would possibly gawk at the castle instead of your eyesore. You rolled up your sleeves and began to unpack. Not a moment to lose, this was gonna be a long day ahead of you.

“Hey, Rookie,” A girl sauntered towards your way and leaned against your desk. “How’s the day treating ya?”

You shrugged, “Better than I expected, to be honest. This is my first time in a big city. I’m glad I didn’t get lost.”

She shrugged, her blonde fringe sweeping to the side, “You’ll get used to it. In about a week, you’ll know how the ropes work. What about your neighborhood? Not all these streets are rainbows and lollipops.”

“Actually, I only have one neighbor. The next house is about a half a mile down the road.”

“Wait, you don’t mean,” She paused. “You bought that house next to Barnes’ place didn’t you?”

“Barnes?” You asked.

“He has a really big house, almost looks like a castle,” She quickly explained.

“Yeah,” You replied. “Huh, I didn’t think anyone lived there. No one ever comes out.”

“Trust me, hun, you’ll regret ever choosing to live there by the end of the week.” She smirked.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“Oh, you’ll know,” She smiled and began walking away. “The name’s Emma by the way.”

“Y/N,” You called back, but she was already rounding the corner.

When you got home, you stopped under the large willow tree that cast its shadow across your cottage. Your gaze moved to the mansion that loomed over you. It looked empty, dark. Still like the night, with no signs of life. The movement of a curtain made your eyes snap to the window the faced you. If someone was watching you, they were gone by now.

You heard some rumors about your neighbor. Though you only knew his last name and you weren’t entirely sure the gossip was true. The things they said were just bizarre. It seems like no one truly knows him. He’s seen as this grand person that captivates people’s attention, yet no one knows who he is. He’s a ghost.

I heard that he’s associated with a mafia. Which is why he’s so wealthy.” A girl by the name of Maria had told you during your lunch break. She leaned on her hand in a very relaxed kind of way.

“Mumbo, jumbo,” Eric spun around, stirring his coffee with a spoon. “He surely won the lottery.”

“As if! Robin told me that he killed his family in order to get the insurance money. Which is why now he’s mafia. Makes sense,” Maria shot back.

“Is this all true?” You had asked, completely bewildered by their statements.

“I do believe he’s in a mafia. He scares me,” Maria shuddered.

“You’ve never even met the man,” Eric continued.

Maria shrugged, “I heard what I heard and that’s final.”

And just like that, the topic of Barnes was finished by those single words. Leaving you as confused as ever.

You walked into your home, lighting up the place with a few bulbs that you had to buy. The music of crickets danced through the cool night air. Your eyes were weary with sleep and you soon found yourself collapsing onto your mattress, falling into a deep sleep.

Friday morning, you walked out onto your porch. You carried your only house plant and didn’t want it to die so you were striving to keep it alive and well. The noise coming from your neighbor’s house made you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head in that direction. Dozens of servants were going in and out of the home. Carrying plates of food, various bottles of alcoholic beverages, ice sculptures and other countless things that only seemed fit at a royal ball. Gardeners trimmed the hedges and cut the grass, tended to the luscious garden with the grand fountain in the middle of it.

You found yourself gawking at all the work they were getting done. The sound of the pot steaming made you rush inside to shut off the stove. The water was had nearly evaporated. You frowned and filled the pot with water before putting it on the stove once again. A knock at your door made your head perk up. You haven’t had visitors since you moved here. You went towards your door and was met with one of your neighbor’s servants. He wore a dark blue suit. His head held high with a letter cradled in his hands.

You opened the door, “Hello, can I help you with something?”

“Mr. Barnes would like to invite you to his party, later on, today,” He handed you the letter. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left you on your porch. Completely bewildered.

You tore the letter open. The fine, black ink stood out on the creme colored stationary. It read:

I would be honored to have you over as my guest at my small party in the evening. I understand that you’re my new neighbor and would like to welcome you with open arms. The party begins after eight o’ clock.

Signed, Barnes

You weren’t one for parties, so instead you shrugged your shoulders and set aside the letter. Not giving it a second thought for the rest of the day.

That night, after eight o’ clock, cars and limousines flooded the driveway if Barnes’ palace. Men and women drove from all across the city to this party to kill the night. Music erupted from the windows of the house and flooded into yours. You could almost hear the joy coming from the people’s tongues. You finally understood why Emma had told you you’d regret buying the place, but truthfully, you didn’t regret a thing.

The party didn’t end until the ungodly hours struck the clock. Little by little the people left the party. They were laughing as they crawled into the backseat while their chauffeur held the doors open for the drunken folks. The wealthy all seemed satisfied after having a party of money. Once they all disappeared into the night, the mansion was left alone and dark once again as it was earlier before, leaving the servants to clean up the mess the next morning.

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*Permanent tag list, if you want to be added or taken off please tell me. Also if you want to be added to the taglist of this story, also tell me

I love that we’re getting some ambiguity about Whitestone, because I think it’s been clear from the start that Vex (and, hell, even Percy) has some pretty damn massive reservations about living happily ever after as a noble in a big castle. I mean, the whole point of her character arc was the acknowledgment that the title, that trying to be nobility to impress a bunch of stuck-up elves who’d set impossible standards for her, was a bunch of delightful bullshitting and changed nothing and the resolution was in how freeing it was to rub it in their faces and then go back to being her again without that shadow of expectation. It was about forgiveness and growth. 

So… well, yeah, I figure it makes perfect sense that she’d be uncertain about the prospect of actually becoming the thing she was always torn apart for not being, you know? I’ve talked in the past about how Percy and Vex both use masks to face their problems, how masks can be invaluable because they let you become someone else when you’re not feeling strong enough to be you, but the moral of that story has never been “so the best thing to do is to weld that mask to your face and never take it off.”

Like, you can be head-over-heels in love with this ship and still acknowledge that it’s been like a week in-game and they’re obviously still sussing out the long-term implications. I am not at all surprised that Vex was explicitly “????????????” about the idea when Vax brought it up, and I guess I’m also not at all surprised that some folks are determinedly minimizing the notion that this decision is a difficult one for her especially to make because of the one-two combo of that wariness re: making the mask permanent and the fact that her brother is a completely essential part of her life.

I mean, this has the potential to be such a fun and interesting well of characterization to explore ship-wise—I’d love to see talk about how best that compromise could happen, how best these kids could take a step back from the notions of nobility and traditional responsibility that have made both of their lives miserable, how best they could keep their other relationships bright and shining and immediate in their lives without losing sight of each other—and yet there are some folks just walling that well up and pretending it ain’t even there.

Basically, I’d love to never again see variations on the theme of: “Friendship and family are the things you grow out of once you fall in love.”

Ludus Tibi Potentias Impiorum

Member: Jeon Jungkook

Genre: Fluff, humor, angst, Witch!Jungkook, father thing?

Word Count: 4,730

A/N: I WAS GOING TO MAKE THIS FOR HOBI BUT GODDAMN IT JUNGKOOK WAS TOO COCKY TO LET THIS PASS and I googled so many things and apparently a warlock kinda counts as an insult in this and so does a wizard just a disclaimer thing and everything that doesn’t look like it’s in english (aka a lot((including the title)) is in latin heuheuheuheu so I hope y’all like it and shit thanks for readingggg~

      “Darling… I-I’m so sorry… Please, take care of her…”

      This was the routine. The parents sobbing, gripping onto the small thing like their life depends on it. Their cheeks flushed and hair a mess, like they had already grown attached to the infant. Even though it’s been inside a whole different person for the majority of their bonding. Come on, why the hell are you talking to a woman’s stomach? Let her be! She’s got her own problems to worry about. Okay, so besides that, even though you had told them beforehand that you were going to take the damn thing, they still try to talk you out of it! Like, um, hello? You made this deal with me, you said, “Oh yeah, sure, I’ll give my firstborn to witch. Why the hell not.” (not that exactly, but you get the gist), and that was it. It was set in stone. You give your baby to me. Kapeesh? Good. Just give me the baby, and maybe I won’t have to put a spell on you.

      Really, it shouldn’t be this hard. Move your arms out, hand it to me, and I’ll leave. Ugh, I can’t believe these mortals. So complicated.

      “She’ll be fine Ma’am, but if you please, drink this. You’ll never remember anything that has happened. Both of you must drink it. Less pain for you.” Slowly, they reached for the vials, sipping them dry. You were ready to leave, pulling out a second vial until a crash interrupted you, a man appearing. Oh god, they made two deals?! “What do you want?!”

      A chuckle arose from the man’s throat, his deep eyes piercing through you. “I think the correct words you’re looking for are, here is the baby, now I’ll be on my way.” A sarcastic smile framed itself on both of your lips, quickly turning into snarls.

      “She’s mine. We made a deal, the newborn gets handed over to me. Nice try Jungkook.”

      “Oh, silly (Y/N). If only you knew. I made the deal with the father when he was twenty five.” Despite the fact that you two were mortal enemies, standing in the same room, fighting over the same mortal baby, and making deals with the same parents, there were a lot of other strange factors happening here. Main thing though: two witches made the same for the same firstborn.

      “I got the wife. She was fourteen. Nice try darling.” Pouring the bottle on your feet, you started your chant, only to be stopped by the other witch. A grip on your wrist had you looking up, glaring at him.

      “The baby is mine.

      “Get your twisted hands off of me you warlock, I’m not giving her to you.”

      “And you think I’m letting you keep her?” Your bickering went on and on, not remembering about the two mortals still standing in the room.

      “Just share her. Y’know, like… Have you two switch days. She stays with either of you for so long. And by the way, what the fuck are you two doing in my house?” You had both been at each other’s throats, but with the mutter of  few words, you had taken him back to your cottage in the woods.

      “Share her? Please, mortals are so stupid. You cannot share a deal trade, that is simply nonsense.”

      A scoff tumbled its way out of your lips, a shake of your head adding to it. “Who do they think they are? ‘Oh, you can just share this damn baby, the one you both were going to raise and train.’ Yeah, like a weak thing like this could handle the training both of us would be giving it. That’s just torture.”

      A silence fell over you both, your heads raising to look at each other. “Did we just… Agree on something?”

      “No. I refuse to believe that. Now, leave, before I banish you myself.”

      “I’m not leaving until you give me the child!” Who does this man think he is? Gandolf?

      “If you’re so confident that the child is yours, then try the mortal’s idea.” The words left you before you could grasp what you had really just offered, your eyes widening as a smug smirk grew on Jungkook’s features.

      “You, (Y/N) (L/N), want me, Jeon Jungkook, otherwise known as your arch fucking enemy, to live with you?”

      “That isn’t what I said!” Oh deus. That is what you said, just not entirely what you meant. Well, what did you mean…?

      “That is exactly what you said. And, seeing as you offered it, I’m taking it up.” Did… Did you hear him right? This little filius canis is actually doing this just to piss you off. 

      You locked gazes with him, yours hard and unforgiving. His, however, had a glint of playfulness strung through his coffee irises, with the sheer look of determination laced in as well. “Ede faecam.”

      “Potes meos suaviari clunes.” This irrumator. 

      “I wouldn’t do that if my immortality was taken from me.” A smirk rose onto your face as you strolled into your room, the small child in your hands. “Her name will be Venus, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

      “There’s always my butt if you want it.”

      “Fututus et mori in igni.” His laugh echoed throughout the whole house, eliciting many cries from the baby. “Deus deodamnatus… You are a terrible father you faex.”

      “Flocci non faccio, darling. See? I can cuss too!” You rolled your eyes, flicking your finger up to silence the baby. You strolled back out to the kitchen, moving all of the wildly colored bottles in the fridge around until you came across the two mason jars filled with milk.

      “You know, if you plan on staying here and raising this child, you’re gonna have to make yourself useful somehow. Mix up some sleeping potions, make some lunch, kill yourself with a wooden stake. All of the above would be nice too.” Walking back to the baby, you maneuvered the milk well enough to where it would fall in it’s mouth. “Ugh, I do hope this thing doesn’t grow up to be as ugly as you.” 

      “You must be mistaken, darling. That’s my line.” He walked back into the room, surprisingly holding some bottles in his hands that would help with the baby. “And anyways, it looks better than most babies. Not as small or crinkled, she’ll be strong.”

      A heavy sigh left your lips, the color draining from the air. “I feel like this is something we will both greatly regret.”

      “Well, I know it is.”

      “Venus, stop running! You need to eat!”

      “Tempus adhuc stare - ut faciam tibi. Transiet per minutis ad non facere, quod ego facere non. Tempus adhuc stare - ut faciam tibi.” With the chant of a spell and the flick of his wrist, Jungkook calmly walked to the frozen Venus, hauled her onto his shoulder, and flicked his wrist again.

      “Jungkook, you can’t just freeze time whenever you need something…”

      “Of course I can. I just did, didn’t I?” You rolled your eyes, and smiled when your pupil squealed on the shoulder of your acquaintance.

      “Kookie, put me down! I’ll eat, I swear! Just pleaseeee, put me down!”

      “Cross your heart?”

      The girl rolled her eyes, were grin becoming wider and wider. “Hope to die, stick a needle in my eyes. You happy?”

      “Very. Now eat, before I feed you flies when I turn you into a toad.” A squeal came from the young apprentice, as she jumps into her chair and shovels forkfuls of the steak you had made, sounds of happiness coming from her.

      You glared at the man, blaming him for raising her to be so… Unprofessional. He would always swing her around, carry her, play hide and seek with her. Not even the good hide and seek, where you would cast a spell to help, it was the mortal’s game! He raised her like a human, and you were not in favor of the whole idea. “You are making this harder for her. She’ll never learn well if you treat her like, a-a princess! You can’t have her prancing around, making her think she’s all high and mighty. If anything, she’s lower than most humans. Don’t get her hopes up.”

      The girl was twelve by now, very intelligent for her age. You were never easy on her, and she knew your tactics. Jungkook was good for her - all three of you knew that, too. He was that breath of fresh air, the blanket draped over one’s shoulders on a frigid winter day. He made everything fun for her, making it all easier. You were harsh, keeping it straight to the point. No humor, no praise. A quiet, “good job”, was about the best she’ll get from you. She was the perfect combination of you both. The humor and confidence of Jungkook, but the mindset and persistence from you. You had to admit, having him here made things better. For one, it made her better.

      It made you better.

      A laugh poured out from his lips, a genuine one, at that. The way his nose crinkled, and his eyes shone bright with joy, it made you want to smile. But you didn’t. “It’s called having fun, (Y/N). You should try it with us sometime.” His laugh tickled your ears again, the sound melodious and cheery. You didn’t really like that combination. Unless it was with those two.

      “I don’t need fun to have a good time. I need spells and herbs. Nothing more.” Yes, that’s right folks, the emotionless (Y/N) (L/N) has grown attached to these two. The human and the enemy. Wonderful.

      “Yeah, sure you don-”

      “(Y/N), I’m ready for today’s lecture.” Looking down at the girl, a smirk rose onto your face. Her exterior had changed immensely, the once smiling and bright girl, had turned cold and stoic. She knew your expectations, and she lived up to them. You were proud of her for that.

      “Well, get on with it then. Protection spell today. Grab the herbs. Jungkook, if you die today, blame it on her.

      “Hey!” Their voices ran in unison, a laugh falling from your lips. 

      “Just saying. Now come. I need to summon something.” Taking Jungkook’s hand, you tugged him out of the cottage and into the clearing near the home. After Venus having grabbed the needed ingredients, you let her get on with it.

      Lighting the seven candles, she topped the bowl of herbs upon a Baphomet symbol, and cast the spell.

      “Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me.” Appearing behind Jungkook was a demon, who’s sole purpose was to kill him. Not something a twelve year old should be held responsible for doing, but, she’d live. Jungkook stood, as still as a tree, as he waited for the words to tumble from Venus’s mouth. A look of pure horror was spread over her face, something that read: “I can’t do it.” Stumbling over her words, she uttered the first few syllables of the chant, before bursting into tears. “R-regna t-t-terrae, cantat- I can’t do it! Jungkook, I-I’m sorr-”

      “Regna terrae, cantata deo, psallite cernun nos, regna terrae, cantata dea psallite aradia. Caeli deus, deus terrae, humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus ut ab omni infernamium spirituum potestate, laqueo, and deceptione nequitia, omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominates. Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potetas, omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis and congregatio secta diabolica. Ab insidiis diaboli, libra nos, dominates, ut coven tuam secur tibi libertate servire facias, te rogamus, audi nos! Terribilis deus sanctuario suo, cernunnos ipse truderit virtutem plebi suae. Benedictus deus, gloria patri, benedictus dea, matri gloria!” The words left your lips in a storm, almost inaudible from how fast you were saying them. A sigh escaped your lips once the demon busted out into flames, your figure walking over to Venus, who was curled up in a ball. “You… Go inside Venus, me and Kookie will talk.” Holy shit, “Kookie”? That’s the first time you’ve called him that. First time for everything, I guess. 

      With a nod, the girl crashed back into the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

      “What the hell was that?!”

      “What the hell was what?! Did you want to get possessed?! She couldn’t do it, she was too scared. We shouldn’t expect this from her… It’s too much. It’ll eat away at her later in her life.”

      An eerie silence swallowed up your fight, both of you looking in opposite directions. “… Why’d you do it?”

      “Do what, Jungkook? Save your fucking life? Because she needs you, Jungkook. I need you. And she doesn’t need the burden of killing the one person she loves and looks up to on her shoulders.” Packing up the remains of the spell from the ground, you turned and ran into Jungkook.

      “You… Need me?” Expecting to look up to a cocky smirk on his face, you rolled your eyes and brushed passed him.

      “If you’re gonna put it like that, maybe I don’t.” Slamming the door behind you, you stashed the supplies away in the cabinets. If only you had really looked up to see the pleading look on Jungkook’s face, begging for you to confirm that, in fact, he did hear you right. If only you saw how broken he looked when you walked away, the image of his heart shattering clear in his eyes. If only you knew that he was the one that needed you, and that he thought his chances of having that were slimmer than slim.

      A knock at Venus’s door had her head shooting up from her hands, her body scrambling off of the bed to get to you. “I-I’m sorry (Y/N)… It shouldn’t have happened, I-I can make it up to you, I’ll-”

      “Sh. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have expected that much from you. In all honesty, I don’t even know if your Kookie would’ve been able to do that. You’re a brave girl, Venus. Don’t ever forget that.” A nod came from the girl, a kiss on her head coming from you. “Go clean up, I’ll make you a post dinner snack.” You smiled when she kissed your cheek and ran to shower, a smile that hadn’t appeared in a long time. Standing to go whip something up, you were met with Jungkook, whose eyes were locked onto the floor.

      “(Y/N), I-”      

      “Save it.” Knocking shoulders with him, you held your ground, stalking back into the kitchen. He knew how stubborn you were, and how there were almost no ways in the world to get you to listen to him. Almost.

      Coming up behind your figure, his thick arms pinned you against the counter. The initial shock of what he had just done rendered you speechless, giving him a slight chance to explain himself. “Goddamn it (Y/N), I swear on a demon’s eye that I didn’t mean to say it that way. Honestly, I don’t want to know if you care about me, just for the sake of my own heart. I’ll leave it at that.” Just as fast as it had happened, he was gone, already out the door. Your grip had tightened on the bag of sugar you were holing, cursing yourself for taking it the wrong way. Shaking the feeling of butterflies rising in your stomach, you continued to put together the mix for the cookies you were making.

      You knew you couldn’t give him what he wanted. So, you wouldn’t. For the safety of this household. If anyone got too close, you’d all be weakened in a heartbeat.

      Years had already passed, and you had given Venus her first assignment. It was to hike up the mountain - with the accompaniment of you and Jungkook, of course -, gather anything she would need in the forest, and wipe out a majority of the demon population. The number of anything up there was scarce anyways, so it would be a simple task. The harder part was, to let her do it on her own.

      Truth be told, you had grown outrageously attached to the mortal, as well as Jungkook. Either way, the outcome wouldn’t be one you would particularly favor, so you kept quiet. There was always the occasional teasing from the both of them, which would tear a smile or a laugh.

      “Are we almost there?”

      “Shut your trap, Jungkook.”

      A laugh erupted from Venus’s throat, a glare from the man being directed to both of you. Venus had grown to be a beautiful young lady, but the passing years had done absolutely nothing to you and Jungkook. You both look the exact same - the scar that you had come to love on his cheek not looking even a day old. Venus had often made jokes about your immortality, and how you two are technically two walking corpses in disguise of very attractive people. But, being the teenager she is, she’s practically begged for you two to be together, saying that everything would be so much easier.

      And that she’d actually have a family.

     “Maybe if you were a bit more patient and observant, you’d notice we’re already here. It’s just the matter of whether or not the demons feel like playing.” You both looked up at Venus, a smile growing on your face. “You can both start out by setting up a symbol in the clearing, and I’ll set up a camp in case we have to stay the night.”

      “Okay, sheesh, fine mini (Y/N).” Jungkook grumbled a few things about how, ‘she really has worn off on you, I want the old Venus back.’, while taking out some paste to paint the trap. Dropping your bags in the middle, you grabbed some brushes to help with the trap.

      “Don’t spill it all this time, you dimwit.”

      “That was one time!”

      “Enough to almost get us all killed.”

      “If the trap doesn’t get set up, we will be killed. Please don’t fight today guys, just once. I get that you two hate each other and all, but act like you’re married for a day.”

      “We aren’t married!” You and Jungkook yelled at her in unison, a howl of laughter coming from her. “You might as well start calling us your parents if you’re pulling that game.”

      A smirk arose on her face at Jungkook’s words, her arms crossing over her chest. “Then get to work dad.” This earned a facepalm from you, snatching the bowl of paste from his hands.

      “Great job Kook. Great. Job.” Both of you glared at each other, before he moved to plop onto the pile of bags inside the circle. “What the hell are you doing?!”

      “You took the paint, don’t look at me.” Rolling your eyes, you flicked your finger and muttered a few words. In a second flat, he was no longer the handsome man you knew, but an ugly toad covered in warts. You bursted out laughing at the sound of horror that came from his throat, the mere croak of a toad showcasing his disgust. “Turn me back!” His voice was too big for his tiny body, a hiccup of surprise coming from him.

      “You’re more useful in this state. It may be easier to kill you. And plus, no demon wants to posses a creature as ugly as you. I’m just saving your life.”      “Forgive me, o righteous one, for I have forgotten my place.” His sarcastic tone dulled out the air around him, rolling his eyes and he hopped over to you.

      “You are forgive- ARGH! GET AWAY FROM ME, TOAD BOY!!!” Upon hopping his way over to you, he had jumped onto you. Except he landed on… Well… Your chest. Spewing out the return spell, your back crashed against one of the enormous tree trunks, and he had returned back to his normal form. With his face buried in your breasts. Unable to form a complete sentence, you instead went straight to kicking him away from you. Both of your faces were bright red, and Venus’s roaring laughter in the background didn’t help the situation one bit.

      “I-I, um, y-you, uh…”

      “Let’s just… Pretend none of this happened. Deal?”

      “Deal.” Handing him the bowl of paste that was set on the ground, you let him finish the trap as you went back to the center. Not before Venus could confront you, though.

      “T-that, was priceless! The look on your faces, oh god, you should’ve seen it! That was completely golden! Oh my god, BEST FIRST MISSION EVER!!!!” As the blush made a statement on your face, you rolled your eyes and hid away into one of the tents. One of the two.

     “Venus…?” A hum of acknowledgement came from her, and you rested your head in your hands. “Why are there only two tents…”

       A snicker came from the girl as she tried to contain her laughter about the situation. “So you and dad can have your own, of course.” A sigh fell from your lips as you dared not to press on the matter at hand, knowing that she would never cave, and that neither you nor Jungkook would be in the mood to put up another tent. Setting the floor of the tent with blankets and pillows, you laid your body down under a mound of wool to rest. Hearing the flap unzip and the strangled cough coming from the intruder, you knew it had to have been Jungkook.

      “So I’ll take it she’s making us stay together…?”

      “Yep.” A sigh came from him, the blankets next to you rustling. You tucked your head deeper into the blankets, falling fast asleep in minutes time.

      As soon as he realized you were out, his arms found their way around you, pulling you closer to his chest. If she wakes up like this, he thinks, I can just say I was keeping her warm. There’s quiet a breeze tonight. So, with you encased in his hold, he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of none other than you.       

      Waking up later in the night, you decided you would get a head start on gathering some supplies. Only to be stopped by the grip Jungkook had on you.

      Not now, you thought. I don’t need these feelings hitting me in the face at this time of night. Sliding your way out of his grasp, you silently managed to escape the little camp without waking either of them up.

      Well, that’s not entirely true.

      The second he no longer felt you against him, Jungkook had been aware of the fact that you had wandered off into the night. Following your steps, he slithered away from the clearing, and followed you out into the dense clutter of trees. But, there he saw you, looking like a goddess in the light of the moon. You were sitting on a rock near a quiet stream, watching the shooting stars reflect their brilliant light onto the rippling water. He stepped on a twig to make notice of his presence, just so that he wouldn’t fall asleep again with an aching groin.

      Your head whipped around to see Jungkook, standing in the shadows of the trees. He looked absolutely stunning under the light of the moon, a smile gracing his lips. “Mind if I join you?” Your cheeks flushed after noticing his bare torso, and you motioned to the rock adjacent to yours.

      “Not at all. How’d you know I was out here?”

      “I have my ways.” You both laughed at his antics, the barriers of your heart all breaking down. Now was the time that he could see the real you, the person you wanted to be around him. He made his way over to you, and instead of taking a seat on the other rock, he sat on yours. “So what are you doing out here?”

      You tore your gaze away from his, looking back down into the water. “Ah… I was just thinking.”


      “About what we would do if anything happened to the three of us. How we would deal. If we would want to even deal at all…” Your eyes fell from the skies to the stream, a tear threatening to make its way down your cheek.

      “Hey… Don’t get all sappy on me. Nothing will happen to any of us, not while I’m around. And that will be along time.” He quietly chuckled, bringing his arm back around your waist. “That I can promise you.”

      You smiled, resting your head on his shoulders. “Shut up, I don’t wanna break my record for longest days without crying because of you.” You both laughed, taking in this extremely rare moment.

      “(Y/N)…?”      Tilting your head up to look at him, you were met with his warm gaze, something that could swallow you up whole. “Yeah?”

      “You know I love you right?”

      “I love you too toad boy.”

      “Oh, wow, way to ruin the moment!” You lifted your head up in laughter, only for it to be ceased by his hand on the back of your neck and his lips pressed against yours. Warmth spread over your body, the sparks flying through every single nerve. But, as you were both about to pull away, the click of a camera had you two falling off of the rock.

       A scream of delight came from the direction the previous sound came from, both of you looking up to see Venus jumping around, tears dripping down her cheeks. “I FINALLY HAVE A FAMILY!” Her display of happiness injected the feeling of hope, of pride and joy into your veins, tears rolling down your own face.

      “A… Family…” Running over to the both of you, she threw her arms tightly around you two, hiding her face away from sight.

      “I love you mom, I love you dad. I love you both so much.”

      Jungkook looked over to you with a bright smile, kissing your lips and leaving a peck on Venus’s head. “We love you too darling.”

      “ANASTASIA! (Y/N), Where’d you go?” Hearing your call from outside with Venus, he heaved out a sigh and scoured the house to find his other daughter. “Oh, my little gumdrop… Where are you?” A muffled yelp of surprise came from him, as his daughter’s hand quickly clasped firmly over his mouth from behind.

      Coming in with Venus and baskets of fresh fruit, you set everything down on the table and brushed your hands off. “Jungkook?” Calling out for your husband, you only got silence in return. Looking over at Venus, she offered you a nod before you went off to find your husband and daughter. Upon seeing the thirteen year old trying to cast a spell on Jungkook, your laugh danced through the air. “Ahhh Anastasia, what have I told you? No spells before dinner. You can turn your father into a toad afterwards.”

      Your daughter looked up at you, a pleading look in the beautiful eyes that she shared with Jungkook. “But mom-”

      “You heard me. No buts. He’s all yours after dinner though, you’ll live. Now go help your sister with the vegetables.

      She laughed and hugged you, kissing your cheek. “Ugh, fine. Thanks mom, I love you!” She ran off to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

      “Love you too!”

      Looking back down at your hopeless husband on the bed, you broke out into a fit of laughter as he pulled you down and tickled you. “What about me?” 

      “F-fine, j-just let me go!” Gasping for air, he laughed and hugged you, leaving kisses all over your face. “I love you, toad boy.”

      He grinned and laughed at the nickname, placing a loving kiss on your lips.

      “I love you too baby.”

ASKS - Names

Asks sent to my main, answered here. Themes - what’s a true name, exactly?

  • Anon said: So what happens with people who have officially changed their names? I’m thinking especially for trans students who change names to match their gender, but anybody who’s gone through the process of legally changing names. Would their deadname still be their “true name” as far as the Gentry are concerned?
  • Anon said: how would the name thing work with deadnames? would the deadname be the “real name” or the name from birth?
  • Anon said: What if you legally changed your name? Would that still hold power or something or just your birth name?
  • Anon said: More for the name things: What about trans students? My name is Lucian but my birth name is completely different. Which one would count as my true name?
  • Anon said: In terms of trans folks at EU, would their birth name be the one that could control them? Or would it be their preferred name?
  • Anon said: About the name thing, how does that work for trans people? Do the fae go by birth certificate or what you believe as your name?
  • Anon said: What about preferred names? Like I don’t feel any attachment to my birth/legal name and no one calls me by it. What would be considered dangerous to use?
  • orendork said: EU question: Would a trans person’s real name be their birth name or their chosen name?? Like would it be safe to go by a chosen name?
  • lupus-lunarem submitted: At elsewhere University if you have a legal name change which name is then used against you? Your birth name or changed name?
  • Anon said: In response to the question of “true names”, I wonder if the Fae could be tricked by the giving of a deadname. Perhaps a trans person/someone who changed their name for personal reasons might be able to give a member of the Folk their deadname as a part of a bargain & the faery would accept it as a part of the bargain, since more antiquated traditions might designate that as the “true name”. However, since the person’s deadname doesn’t really have power over them, the bargain could be safe while remaining valid
  • zeromylesperhour said: I rly liked your idea of the trans kids playing games for simple things like voice changes. I’ve also always thought about how true names would work in that situation! Like a faerie might think it has power over a trans kid because it knows their “name” but it’s their birth name and not their real name.

Especially in a place where belief holds such power as it does at Elsewhere University, your true name would be your preferred name - the one that means you, heart and soul. While on campus, you should keep it secret from all but those you trust with your life. Your deadname would have no power over you. The legal status of your true name doesn’t matter; it draws its power from the weight and identity you give it.

As far as the Gentry are concerned, in folklore one’s true name was often synonymous with one’s birth name, and I imagine that because of this, for a time after Elsewhere began to seep back into the world, they would ask a birth name as a price for a boon, and occasionally be very, very surprised when it was given without a fight and held no power at all. They have learned to be more careful for what they ask for since then, but not after several rather embarrassing deals, and every once in a while one of the more antiquated Fair Folk will make this mistake over again.

Keep reading

Hamilton Act II: A Summary

What’d I Miss: french fry is back, this time with jazz

Cabinet Battle #1: my talents include looking snazzy, quick comebacks, and eliminating all chances for friendship upon first meeting people

Take a Break: I will try to get away *doesn’t try* well I did my best I think

Say No to This: let’s play a game called ignore the ensemble

The Room Where It Happens: I’m going to continue my theory of “maybe if I just stand here nothing bad will happen ever” but this time I’m going to be standing next to senators

Schuyler Defeated: I’m sure he already knows *looks out window to see Alexander lighting Burr’s house on fire*

Cabinet Battle #2: you must be outta your gODDAMN MIND

Washington On Your Side: salt squad assemble

One Last Time: you’re all exhausting I’m taking a permanent vacation try not to kill each other

I Know Him: *gets out a bucket of popcorn* I’m ready to watch your life fall apart

The Adams Administration: in addition to dressing snazzy, having quick comebacks, and being bad at making friends, my talents also include getting fired and not handling it well

We Know: it’s a good idea to tell a bunch of people who hate you something they could use to ruin your life

Hurricane: we’ve established that I don’t make very good choices but just in case you don’t get that yet I must do another stupid thing

The Reynolds Pamphlet: oh shit wait I shouldn’t have done that maybe

Burn: these letters are on fire and you will be too if you mess up again aka FEELINGS

Blow Us All Away: “what if he shoots me” “why would he do that, here take some guns see you at dinner”

Stay Alive (Reprise): get ready folks, once the tears start they aren’t going to stop for a while

It’s Quiet Uptown: no more politics for me they ruined my life

The Election of 1800: ok maybe just a lil bit more politics what could go wrong

Your Obedient Servant: shit that’s what could go wrong aka sass

Best of Wives and Best of Women: meeting means both meeting and gun fight apparently

The World Was Wide Enough: shooting your friends generally results in the realization afterwards that it was a bad idea

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: if you thought you were done feeling things you were WRONG. feelings time lasts until you’ve run out of tears


For @platonicvldweek​ Day 3: Tandem/Separation

Read it on Ao3 | Read it on FFN

They looked like you.

It was a whisper Matt heard everywhere he went.

It started when there began to be rumors of Voltron’s return.

Matt had been freed from Zarkon’s prisons by a small group of rebels only about a month prior. He’d joined up with the group, helping out on their search-and-rescue missions. Most of the other rescues had left to find their ways home. But Matt had stuck around. “I don’t know how to get home,” he confessed to the group’s director. “And besides; I can’t go home without my father. He and my friend are still out here somewhere. I need to find them.”

But then the refugees they encountered started talking about robotic lions and paladin knights. “It’s Voltron,” they said. “It must be!”

Matt had heard the stories. Of course he had. You don’t live in a prison camp without hearing tales of the only thing capable of taking out your captor. But that’s all they had been—stories. Stories that were passed down from generation to generation, originating from an ancient civilization that no longer existed (or, some say, never had). Stories meant to give the children living under Zarkon’s rule some lingering sliver of hope. He’d never put any faith in them. Never given them a second thought.

So when the first refugees started talking of Voltron’s return, he’d dismissed it. “A large robotic lion,” they regaled. “I swear it’s one from the legends!”

But the stories continued.

“Five lions, joining together to create one robotic knight, wielding a blazing sword,” one said in awe. “I didn’t think it could be true.”

“They saved me,” a child told him, not a week later. “They saved my whole planet.”

“The Altean ship, straight from the ancient illustrations,” murmured a village elder. “I almost didn’t believe my eyes at first. But the Castle of Lions truly exists.”

And Matt started to think that maybe—just maybe—they weren’t entirely legends. Maybe there was some super-robot out there, fighting back against the Galra, against Zarkon.

And maybe they knew where he could find Shiro and his dad.

“I saw them,” one alien was saying—a green figure, with a vaguely slug-like appearance, and eyes on the side of his head like a frog. “The Paladins.”

“Who are they?” This was asked by a small blue femme creature, with piles of white hair.

“Unlike anyone I’ve ever seen.” The green one shook his head, then looked askance at Matt. “They looked like you.”

“What?” Matt asked, confused. “That’s impossible. My species doesn’t have the technology for intergalactic travel.”

The green one shrugged. “I only know what I saw.”

And the conversation stilled.

It was several weeks before Matt heard any more of the subject. They’d met with another ragtag band of rebels, working to discuss an alliance. And while their directors held conference, their bands mingled.

“They say one of the Paladins escaped from Zarkon’s prisons,” one of the other rebels was saying.

“I knew him,” another one confirmed. “He fought in the arenas. They called him Champion.”

He fought in the arenas.

Matt had frozen, his head racing. “Do you know his name?”

The alien shook his head. “Only Champion.” He took another sip from his drink—some purple concoction they’d called nunvill. “Looked a bit like you, though. Where you from?”

“Far away,” Matt replied. “There are very few of my kind out here. We…don’t tend to leave our planet.”

“Hm,” the alien hummed. “Well, perhaps you should try reaching out to these Voltron folks. You may be closer to home than you realize.”

Many quintants later, he encountered another group: a few rebels who had escaped or been freed from Galra clutches only to be captured again. Freed once more, they now sat in the infirmary of the rebel base Matt was staying at. He was there with them, bandaging a nasty burn one had on one of xir four arms.

The alien was watching him with a quizzical expression. “Have you heard of Voltron?”

Matt hesitated, then slowly resumed his work. “I’ve heard some stories,” he replied.

“Ever meet the Paladins?”

Matt frowned. “No.”

“Hm.” Xe was still giving Matt that odd look, as though xe didn’t quite believe what he was saying. “They looked like you. Never seen anyone quite like them before.”

Matt paused, taking a deep breath. “Do you know their names?”

The alien shook xir head. “Never spoke to them.” Xir piercing stare met Matt’s eyes. “Anyone in particular?”

Matt sighed. “Just. Looking for someone.”

And on the whispers went, They looked like you, following Matt wherever he went.

“The Green Paladin,” the alien said, a hulking red figure, reptilian in appearance, with curling horns. “They looked like you.”

“What was his name?” Matt asked, frantic excitement showing through his voice.

The alien shook their head. “I’m sorry; I do not know.”

“Well, what did he look like?” Matt tried. “I mean, just beyond looking like me. Was he a bit taller? Dark hair?”

The alien was still shaking their head. “No, no. They looked like you. Like a copy. Smaller, though.”

That froze Matt in his tracks. “That can’t be right,” he said softly. “No, no, I’m looking for Champion. I was told he was a Paladin?”

The alien furrowed their brow. “I know the one of whom you speak,” they said. “You are asking for the Black Paladin. But, I tell you, you should seek out Green one. What you think you are searching for and what you are actually searching for may not always coincide.”

It was a while before he got any real answers.

A few travelers, reaching out from their own planet in an attempt to re-establish intergalactic communications. “Our planet was recently liberated by Voltron,” they told Matt. “We were enslaved by the Galra empire, but Voltron received our distress signal and came to our aid.”

They were a lithe green people, with large eyes and leaf-like antennae. Olkari, Matt’s superior had called them.

One of them cocked her head at Matt, assessing him. “Do you know them?”

Matt pursed his lips. “I don’t know. I’d like to.”

The Olkari hummed, as though nothing about his answer struck her as strange. “You resemble the Green Paladin a great deal.”

Matt sighed. “So I’ve been told.”

“The Green Paladin told me that she was searching for missing family members.” Matt froze. “She said that her father and brother had been taken by Zarkon.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “She?

“Yes. She looked like you, though smaller. Any chance you could be one she is searching for?”

He wasn’t breathing right. “No,” he gasped. “No no no no no, that can’t be possible, it can’t be her, she can’t be here!

The Olkari reached towards him, holding her hands out in a placating gesture. “I apologize for startling you,” she said gently. “Please, you must calm down—”

Matt took a step back wildly, bringing his hands up to clutch at his hair frantically. “Her name,” he demanded, “what was her name?”

The Olkari hesitated, before saying, “The others called her Pidge.”

Matt collapsed, gasping for air. “Oh god. Oh, Pigeon.”

Katie was sulking.

He’d found her on the back porch, a light blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hands rested beside her on the step she sat on, and one of her legs was jittering with nervous energy.

He sighed. Bad day at school, he guessed. She was only twelve, but was already entering high school. She’d skipped seventh and eighth grade, jumping straight from sixth to ninth. And though she matched her new peers intellectually (or surpassed them, more rather), you couldn’t really say the same physically.

Matt had gone through the same thing when he was about her age; suddenly being years younger than the rest of the kids in his classes, feeling so much smaller and more vulnerable.

He sat beside her on the steps. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

She didn’t look at him—just kept her gaze locked on the ground. “Nothing.”

“Well that sounds boring.”

She only grunted.

He leaned back on his hands, tilting his head so he could see the sky. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent a lot of time looking down. I think I’d rather look up.” The stars glittered above them, constellations sparkling in the night sky. “You got a favorite constellation?”

“Matt, I’m not really in the mood.”

“C’mon, Katie, humor me for a minute here.” He nudged at her. “I think my favorite is Cthulhu. Or maybe The Flying Squirrel. Or The Super Cool Older Brother.”

She was smiling now, even as she bit back a groan. “You’re just making those up!” she accused him.

“Am not!”

“Are too! God, for a space explorer, you’d think you’d know the constellations better.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re right, I do know the constellations better. These are just ones that you haven’t heard of yet.”

She barked a quick laugh, reaching out to hit him playfully. “You dork.”

He smiled. “You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her after a moment. “Which is your favorite?”

She thought for a while. “Leo,” she decided eventually.

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

She shrugged, a bit hesitant. “Leo is the lion. It stands for being brave and facing your fears.”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s a good one.”

They fell into comfortable silence. Matt pulled the blanket around both of them, and they curled up together, watching the stars.

“Hey, Matt?”


“What do you think is out there?”

He was silent for a while, thinking. “Adventure,” he said eventually. “Excitement. Something entirely new, something we’ve never seen before.”

“Do you believe in aliens?”

Matt hummed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe not in the way we think of aliens. But it seems unlikely that in the entirety of the universe, we’d be the only lifeforms. It’s just statistically improbable.”

Katie giggled. “I think they’re out there,” she told him matter-of-factly. “And I’m gonna meet them.”

Matt smiled. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

Matt reached over to ruffle her hair. “Don’t worry, Pigeon,” he said. “We’ll explore those stars together someday. I promise.”

Part 2

Homeless Writer Whores Out What Little Talent They Have!

You heard it here, folks— DeForest Francis, age 21, is, once again, jobless. Maybe it was the clear-cut case of being a huge fucking queer, maybe it was the shadiness young DeForest naturally exudes, maybe it’s just because they found out that DeForest is a couch-surfer living on the good graces of @freyja-not-freya​ and her father, but the fact is, DeForest needs money, and he needs it now. School payments loom on the horizons, along with the staggering reality that no, DeForest simply cannot live on a couch forever, even if it is semi-collapsible. But have no fear! Our young hero has come up with a solution.

For reasonable prices, DeForest, former literary magazine editor and contributor and current fanfiction writer, is willing to write just about anything, whether it be fanfiction or original! Choose any topic you wish to read about, any specifications you desire, and a word count, then send it along in a private message to @starhobbitwrites​! Payment will follow only upon completion of the piece, which will be published on AO3, starhobbit.livejournal/.dreamwidth, and/or on tumblr*.


$1- 100 words
$8- 1,000 words
$65- 10,000 words

For freelancing work (stuff that gets published outside the realm of the websites listed above), I do five cents per word.

DeForest would really appreciate your help, as DeForest is me! At least until I’m working again, I’m happy to take anything you throw at me— poetry, epics, drabbles, whatever. Writing is my only talent, and I’m trying to use it to help keep myself from really getting screwed. Any interest would be appreciated.

*Should it be desired, work can be passed on privately via email in PDF format

anonymous asked:

I have a somewhat historical question I guess that I was wondering if you knew anything about. A common trope I see in any media taking place in any time period before early to mid 20th century is the mother dying in childbirth thing? And I was just wondering (even just in regards to the time period of your expertise) what we're the mortality rates for women in childbirth?

Heh. Well. (This is probably going to be way more than you wanted to know, but I believe in being thorough.)

First, childbirth has always been risky (women still die from it in modern countries in modern hospitals with all of 21st century medicine behind them, and it’s still a major health concern for countries in the developing world – Sierra Leone in Africa has the worst maternal mortality rate in the world, with up to 1,360 deaths per 100,000 births, or a 1 in 17 chance). So childbirth in the pre-modern era, without possibility of surgical intervention (unless to save the baby and kill the mother), painkillers, modern hygiene, X-ray/ultrasound equipment, and sterilized hospital settings, was dangerous. Ignaz Semmelweis and Alexander Gordon, two 18th/19th-century obstetricians who investigated the causes of puerperal fever or childbed fever, and concluded that it could often be prevented by the doctor just vigorously washing his hands between deliveries (and not, you know, performing an autopsy on a dead body and going straight to deliver a baby) were treated with complete ridicule by the scientific establishment and branded as charlatans. (This, as you may notice, will become a theme.) Modern germ theory and sterile instruments weren’t established until the late 19th century. So yes, the risk was very real, and noble and common women alike died in childbirth. We obviously don’t have anything resembling detailed demographic information, but we can conclude the rate would be similar to a developing country today.

However, this is very far from saying that no kind of maternal or prenatal care or practice existed. This is once again where we discover how terrible the late medieval/Renaissance era was for women’s rights/education/professional liberty/basically everything (seriously, Renaissance, your art is nice, but otherwise you can fuck off). In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the famed medical university at Salerno, in Italy, fairly freely accepted female students and professors, and their most famous professor and scholar on women’s health was Trota of Salerno, who gave her name and a good deal of her own experience to the three texts known as the “Trotula.” These were each written by a different author under Trota’s supervision and authority, and the first two books, “Book on the Conditions of Women” and “On Treatment of Women” represent a detailed gynecological handbook with advice on all kinds of pregnancy/childbirth-related ailments – uterine prolapse, perineum tears, medicines, and other solutions from a practitioner who, unlike her male counterparts, could actually touch and study her patients’ bodies. Trota is referred to as a “magistra” (the female form of Latin magistro or master) and her work was widely circulated and read in England and Normandy as well as Sicily (which was under Norman rule itself from about the mid-eleventh century). So she was a famous doctor and scholar in her own day (until, of course, she was obscured/changed to male/ignored/nearly forgotten until the twentieth century). Another “magistra”, Hersend of France, accompanied Louis IX on crusade in the thirteenth century and treated both the king himself and the female members of the crusade contingent. 

Of course, ordinary women would not have had access to these highly trained female physicians, and most midwives had no special or formal training aside from their own practical experience. As well, almost everyone writing medical texts was (shockingly!) a man, making it nearly impossible to know much about these actual practitioners. Since pregnancy was, of course, a result of sex, the church had plenty of opinions on it as well. The suffering of childbirth was supposed to be the proper punishment for original sin, so anything that dulled the pain was frowned on, and when actual training of midwives was instituted in the later medieval era, the concern was mostly on whether they knew how to perform an emergency baptism for the child’s sake, rather than any care of the mother. (Wow…. this sounds… awfully familiar, doesn’t it?) Nonetheless, there are literally dozens of texts from antiquity to the Renaissance, representing folk/informal recipes and methods for contraception and abortion. We don’t know how well any of these worked, if at all, and they were usually (again) written by men trying to tell women what to avoid (but having the effect of also giving them the information if they wanted it). But there was a vast and probably at least somewhat effective corpus of traditions/medicines/rudimentary contraceptive methods available and transmitted through female practitioners.

None of this was ever taught to men, naturally, and the universities, as they became more established, did their damndest to stamp out “unlicensed” practitioners, which really meant women. The 1322 trial of Jacoba Felicie, a female doctor in Paris, is basically representative of the later medieval pushback against women practitioners. Jacoba’s patients, both male and female, testified that she was a highly skilled doctor and they had gotten better after visiting her – but the court’s judgment was that since she was a woman, she couldn’t possibly be as good a doctor as a man, and she was barred from practice. (If this post was Misogyny, Take a Shot, I think we would all be hammered by now.) That decision also led to legislation to keep women out of universities/medical school in France (in 1421, Henry V also banned them in England). So once again: You Suck, Renaissance!

This also involves questions of medieval sexuality, religion, and general hygiene/attitudes toward cleanliness and medical care. First, aside from the texts mentioned above that discuss folk remedies for contraception, a medieval woman had various strategies to space her children that didn’t just rely on hoping her husband didn’t rape her too much (as I have ranted about before). Also, it’s worth pointing out that children were a natural and expected part of medieval marriage, and most couples would be more interested in ensuring they had children, rather than preventing them – limiting family size to the average 2.5 children is a modern conceit once more linked to capitalism and the de-coupling of marriage/family/household from its function as a unit of economic production, as I wrote about here. Children were valuable as heirs to noble families or working members of a lower-class family, and with likewise high infant/child mortality, you could sometimes have a number of children and hope that one or two of them made it to adulthood. 

However, that didn’t mean that all medieval women just pumped out babies until they couldn’t have any more. The third-century Roman physician Galen’s theory of female orgasm being necessary to conceive was considerably well-known in the medieval era. While this backfired on rape victims, as it was figured they couldn’t have gotten pregnant if they didn’t enjoy it (paging Todd Akin… wow, this is depressing, isn’t it?), it also meant that your average medieval married couple would have believed that the woman, not just the man, experiencing pleasure was necessary to have children. Cue the church clutching its pearls in the background, but the official Catholic theology and teaching of sexuality was, again, mutable. The thirteenth-century sect of the Cathars viewed all sex, married or otherwise, as evil, so in response and opposition to them, the Catholic church began glorifying marital sex to some degree. There was a recognition that both spouses owed each other sexual availability and pleasure, and marriages could be dissolved if this wasn’t upheld on either end.

As well, since close to half the days of the year (Wednesdays, Fridays, Sundays, Lent, Advent, holy days, six weeks after childbirth, etc) were regarded as impermissible for sexual activity, that meant couples (if they were religiously observant, or if they just wanted to avoid the possibility) had the option of spacing out procreative sexual activity. There wasn’t any institutional or official acceptance of sex outside marriage (though oh boy, it happened – up to 30% of brides were pregnant at their wedding), but there was also a lot of argument about what constituted marriage. It could just be as simple as saying “I take you as my wife/husband” without any church framework or institution whatsoever, and then having intercourse. (See chapter three, “Sex and Marriage,” in Sexuality in Medieval Europe.) The church viewed these couples as fornicators if they hadn’t been married formally, but what we would consider cohabiting unmarried couples (similar to a couple living together before actual marriage today) were fairly common. Noblewomen in particular were expected to give their husbands heirs, but after that, if they didn’t like each other much, he would have mistresses and she could be excused from it. The noble couples we know of with a high number of children seem to have been the ones who genuinely liked each other/had happy marriages anyway, and thus continued having sex even after the succession was secured. 

Plus, the ideal of chastity, both inside and outside of marriage, was very socially influential. The late medieval English mystic Margery Kempe managed (after having fourteen children with her husband) to get him to agree to a chaste marriage (we have him sadly asking her if she would prefer to kill him with a hatchet rather than letting them have sex again – which, after fourteen kids, she might). Women who chose to be virgins or abbesses or nuns were also excused from childbirth, although they sometimes faced pressure from their families to marry and continue the line. But chastity was admired in both men and women, and considered a prerequisite for holiness, so it was a way to avoid sexual activity (and thus more children) as well as getting in the church’s good books.

Lastly, there’s the general idea that people in the medieval era were filthy, dirty, foul-smelling, had rotten teeth, etc. Medieval people probably had structurally better teeth than we did (though obviously without modern dentistry/orthodontics) albeit worn down from grit/particles, because processed sugar wasn’t part of their diet. Next, while obviously they did not know about germs/the root causes of illnesses, they logically associated filth and bad smells with disease. Most cities had ordinances about where you could dump your waste and strict punishment for litterbugs. Full-body bathing was rarer than today, because of how much time and effort it would take to fill a whole tub, but they washed hair, hands, faces, etc regularly, and bathhouses were a part of medieval town culture. They prized sweet smells and perfumed/fragrant herbs, so while they would obviously have more body odor than we do with daily showers/soap/deodorant/etc, they wouldn’t be some strange shit-smeared, rotten-toothed rustic barely one step above a caveperson. In the 1400s, we find the Hotel-Dieu, the major hospital in Paris, believing that pregnant/postnatal women should have three baths a week and their linen washed regularly (that whole article is worth a read – said hospital was also entirely staffed by women/religious sisters).

Since this has gotten super long (as I said, more than you want to know), allow me to summarize. Midwifery/women’s health care has (surprise!) a very long history and was intentionally destroyed/excluded from male-dominated university curriculums, medieval women giving birth did die but not outlandishly/without any treatment at all, and the presence of women in medical school/practice was increasingly restricted up to and around the Renaissance. (It’s a subject of debate how many midwives were targeted in witch hunts, but some of them definitely were.) This also connected to medieval attitudes about sexuality, procreation, religion, and women, and the options that medieval women had for controlling the number of children they had or didn’t have, and their relationships with their husbands and what was expected of them as a result.

I will also note in closing that the “dying in childbirth” thing in historical fiction is a way to easily invoke the ever-present Dead Mother trope in a historically plausible, if rather lazy, way. Since everyone knows women did die (and do die) in childbirth, it becomes an easy way to kill off the protagonist’s mother or to make some point about The Dangers Of Women’s Lives Back Then (whether in-universe or intended for the modern audience). All of which is absolutely the case, but which ignores, as usual, the complexity of the ways in which premodern medicine for women, and women themselves, created a corpus of knowledge and treatment that remains unacknowledged, overlooked, dismissed, or otherwise intentionally destroyed by a patriarchal, misogynistic system.

/takes a bunch of shots

/falls over

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (July 18th, 2017)

There’s a new Sims 4 update available in Origin. If you have automatic updates enabled in the “Application Settings”, the game will auto-update once you open Origin. If you have auto-updates disabled, you will need to manually update by clicking the game in your library.

PLEASE:>>>> Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game

UPDATE: 7/18/2017 – PC Version / Mac Version

Hey Simmers,

We spent some time working on some of the hot community issues out there. Each of these issues below were requested by folks in our community (except for one).

Hopefully we touched upon something for you, or even better, you haven’t run into any of these. But if you have, or you’re just curious, then these issues are for you.

General Issues

  • Sims will no longer restart writing a book from the beginning, after you have saved and loaded the lot.
  • “Watch Current Channel” and “Watch TV Together” are BACK baby! You can once again choose to sit down with your family, friends, strangers, and watch the current channel or together as a group!
  • We fixed an issue that could cause female Sims to remain wearing a pink bra when taking a shower.
  • Lots downloaded to “My Library” from the Gallery should no longer find that various thumbnails have gone missing.
  • Sims with the Kleptomaniac trait should no longer place items they have stolen into the inventories of the Sim they stole the items from.
  • Sims will no longer autonomously donate money to charity.
  • Throwing a Birthday Party will help to fulfil the Throw 3 Parties aspiration goal of the Party Animal Aspiration.
  • Oh… if only. I’ve been on the same 3 pages of my novel for 15 years now.
  • Wait… I’m sorry. The issue is that the mosaic censor grid will no longer have hints of mosaic pink in it?
  • Ok. So, just for clarity, the censor grid pink, that was showing in the mosaic, will no longer be present?
  • I feel so conflicted with this note.
  • Yep.
  • Yep.
  • I feel as though the story of Robin was lost in translation.
  • But they still feel good about doing it.

Get To Work

  • “Interrogate Suspect” has been removed from the interrogation table during the tutorial APB event as it didn’t do anything.
  • Your Sim should no longer get the Unable to Propose dialog when attempting to propose to Sims who are not employed by the proposing Sim.
  • Medicine can now be set for sale in retail stores.
  • Now if they don’t want to marry you, they’ll just tell ya.
  • “Oooh, I would totally marry you, but my job… yea. It’s crunch time, we got a deadline. Oh, and my boss, real hard a-yea don’t get me started. And, I gotta work Saturdays too. Maybe next time.”
  • Sims without license selling medicine. This seems fine.
  • Sims who reach level 8 in the Doctor career should now find that pregnant Sims are actually coming to the hospital to complete the Deliver a Baby promotion task.
  • C’mon honey, your pregnant, and it’s time to go to the hospital.
  • Nope? But, you’re… pregnant… and… it’s time.
  • Off what?
  • But they fixed the issue.
  • If you chose to wear ymHair_EP01ShortSwept and set your head shape to ymCompleteHead_09, and you look deeply into the eyes of your creation… you could see the hair under the skin near the eyes. This is now fixed.
  • The Regulation Station now has a Reliability value displayed in its tooltip, and the winning number is…. SIX!
  • Nope
  • Nope. Rather have my pregnancy off lot.
  • Off lot, you know off camera, no pain, no animation. No baby… and then *pop* baby. So much nicer than labor.
  • They did WHAT?!
  • Come on down, it’s time for the Price Is… this by the way was “the one”.

Get Together

  • “Play Darts With…” more than one Sim should now work, and no longer leave the Sims standing around looking awkwardly at one another.
  • You gonna throw?
  • What?
  • So… you wanna play some b-ball?
  • The dance interaction can once again be performed on a Dance Floor when there is a stereo playing music nearby.
  • Lost a toe.
  • Yep, *schtick* toe gone.
  • Lost an eye.

City Living

  • Start Yard Sale and Stop Yard Sale now indicate they are instant actions in the pie menu with the circle in a circle icon.
  • When you learn the 27th of 27 recipes, we will no longer congratulate you for learning the 26th of the 27 recipes, but instead we will congratulate for learning all 27 of the 27 recipes.
  • Vegetarian Sims that received the message that says “WOAH! Your Sim has discovered a delicious alternative to meat products! Who knew that a meal could still have the familiar meat taste without the meat?” will no longer again receive the message each time they travel.
  • Sims with the active trait should no longer attempt “Close Shot” and “Dream Big” interactions on the basketball hoop every waking second of the day. This has been tuned down significantly.
  • In order to meet the needs of our Vegetarian Sims, The Corporate Fridge Raider Revenue Generating Cooler now offers a Faux BLT selection.
  • Sims should now sit when they play the console game if there is an available seat nearby.
  • I think the poor guy visiting me was really confused as I instantly started and stopped my yard sale 20 times in a row…
  • He kept looking at me with that “Is this wooden horse for sale or not!?” look in his eye. It’s a very specific look. You don’t run into it much.
  • But when you do…. wooh… you’ll never forget the “is this horse for sale” look.
  • Congratulations.
  • As the slogan says, “Faux B, if it’s fo-everyone, it’s Faux B.”
  • Obviously… have you ever tried to rocket jump standing up, the balance to weight ratio of the stick to foot differential completely messes with the timing.

Dine Out

  • Top-level restaurant chefs should no longer cook poor quality food.


  • The Draught of Reconfiguration and Vampire Resistance Cocktail drinks will no longer have two drink options in the pie menu.
  • Sims should once again be able to Plan their Wedding Event with a Vampire Sim.
  • Vampires can now date.
  • Is marriage to a vampire considered a wedding or a funeral? One of you is dead after all.
  • Ok, ok… let’s not get into the dead vs undead debate.
  • Technically – as for your determination of their date-ability, well, that’s on you.
  • I wish you a happy twilight, and a merry nosferatu.

Happy Summer Simmers,

[Posted on behalf of SimGuruGnome who is enjoying a nice game of ‘Don’t Wake the Llama’]

Nightlight Volume 2 Issue 4 Submission Period OPEN

Hello, Nightlight crowd! Time for a new theme to wrap up our eventful second year, and I’m particularly excited about this one.

Volume 2 Issue 4: Here Be Dragons (July 21 - October 5)

You read that right: this issue, we’re accepting fantasy pieces. The standard demographic of the magazine still stands, the piece must have either character(s) with a mental illness and/or be authored by someone with one, but other than that, all pieces of fantasy are welcome. Urban fantasy, high fantasy, low fantasy, space operas, dark, heroic, contemporary–it’s fantasy all the way down, folks. Once again, pieces that are inherently derogatory in nature will not be accepted, nor will pieces that are erotic or heavily gory. Nightlight is accepting artwork as well, the specific guidelines of which are on our guidelines page.

People interested in doing the cover should either email or PM us. Good luck!