world-of-steam

A genre-punk dictionary
  • Cyberpunk - Neon lights, mechanical body-horror, lots and lots of electronic junk lying around, tightly confined city slums, flying cars, androids, and last but not least, lots of grungy browns and grays. Bladerunner, Judge Dredd, Bubblegum Crisis etc.
  • Dieselpunk - Similar to cyberpunk, but less about electronics and androids and more about internal combustion and industrial robots. Technology is less ubiquitous in this setting but when you see techology, it will be combustion powered in some way… or at least look like it should be. Expect grease stains and bits of sludge on everything. Final Fantasy VII (the original game only) is a prime example.
  • Laserpunk - The Anti-Cyberpunk. Spotless with a lot of legroom. Expect glowing lines, fancy grooves, bright white glossy walls, and some shiny blues on everything. Everything in this setting has something that glows, even when it doesn’t need it. These are your Xenosaga’s, iRobot’s, Star Ocean’s.
  • Garbagepunk - The kludgey cousin of steampunk. Everything in this setting, and I mean EVERY SINGLE THING, is made of trash. Goggles made of bottles, water filtration made of old oil drums and used coffee filters, etc. Mad Max, Deponia, Water World, etc.
  • Steampunk - Steam power, leatherbound handles, brass fittings, lots of circles and rivets. I shouldn’t have to really clarify this one.
  • Clockpunk - Steampunk but with clockworks instead of steam engines. Its a small difference, listed only for the reason that steampunk requires steam and clockpunk doesn’t always have it. Expect gears, cogs, wheels and springs.
  • Codepunk - This one is difficult to pin down. Its less about the aesthetic and more about the concepts. This is a setting where everything that happens is related in some way to programming… Where the laws of physics are just functions being run with parameters, alterable by anyone with knowledge of how to access them. This is a setting where people do battle by compiling text that subtracts a number from the other person’s vital statistics variables, but that is what the world is actually made of, not just a game abstraction. Codepunk is characterized by parts of the world actually breaking down visibly into raw text. .hack//, Fate/Extra, the parts of the Matrix series we don’t get to watch where someone is actually typing on a keyboard to make things actually happen…( not that Neo-Morpheus crap. )
  • Naturepunk - What happens when you invent modern or even futuristic technology without actually using any technology. Reclining armchairs made of sticks and moss. Aeroplane’s made of palm fronds and vines. If cavemen invented space travel. Everything is made of locally sourced natural components, but the level of technological advancement and sophistication isn’t necessarily diminished because of it. You might have all the classic weapons of war, guns and grenades and such, but made of curious growths. Mushrooms with highly flammable spores for example, instead of a grenade. While not the only example, the best I can actually think of is… The Flintstones. You might also consider many depictions of Atlantis under this category.
  • Biopunk - Naturepunk’s heavy metal big sister. Everything is made of bone, meat, blood and teeth. Everything is either alive, or was alive at one time. Technology is either made of raw carcasses, or is actually some creature bred or engineered specifically to be used in the way a machine would. Don’t expect to see much inorganic material in generally anything. eXistenZ, generally anything that takes place inside another organism.
He drew me close, until the sensitive tips of my breasts rubbed across his chest.

The water was not only warm but heavy, almost oily to the touch, and his hands floated down my back to cup my buttocks and lift me. 

The intrusion was startling. Hot and slippery as our skins were, we drifted over each other with barely a sensation of touching or pressure, but his presence within me was solid and intimate, a fixed point in a watery world, like an umbilical cord in the random driftings of the womb. I made a brief sound of surprise at the small inrush of hot water that accompanied his entrance, then settled firmly onto my fixed point of reference with a little sigh of pleasure. 

“Oh, I like that one,” he said appreciatively. 

“Like what?” I asked. 

“That sound that ye made. The little squeak.” 

It wasn’t possible to blush; my skin was already as flushed as it could get. I let my hair swing forward to cover my face, the curls relaxing as they dragged the surface of the water. 

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be noisy.” 

He laughed, the deep sound echoing softly in the columns of the roof. 

“I said I like it. And I do. It’s one of the things I like the best about bedding ye, Sassenach, the small noises that ye make.” 

He pulled me closer, so my forehead rested against his neck. Moisture sprang up at once between us, slick as the sulfur-laden water. He made a slight movement with his hips, and I drew in my breath in a half-stifled gasp.

“Yes, like that,” he said softly. “Or … like that?” 

“Urk,” I said. He laughed again, but kept doing it. 

“That’s what I thought most about,” he said, drawing his hands slowly up and down my back, cupping, curving, tracing the swell of my hips. “In prison at night, chained in a room with a dozen other men, listening to the snoring and farting and groaning. I thought of those small tender sounds that ye make when I love you, and I could feel ye there next to me in the dark, breathing soft and then faster, and the little grunt that ye give when I first take you, as though ye were settling yourself to your job.” 

My breathing was definitely coming faster. Supported by the dense, mineral-saturated water, I was buoyant as an oiled feather, kept from floating away only by my grip on the curved muscles of his shoulders, and the snug, firm clasp I kept of him lower down. 

“Even better,” his voice was a hot murmur in my ear, “when I come to ye fierce and wanting, and ye whimper under me, and struggle as though you wanted to get away, and I know it’s only that you’re struggling to come closer, and I’m fighting the same fight.” 

His hands were exploring, gently, slowly as tickling a trout, sliding deep into the rift of my buttocks, gliding lower, groping, caressing the stretched and yearning point of our joining. I quivered and the breath went from me in an unwilled gasp. 

“Or when I come to you needing, and ye take me into you with a sigh and that quiet hum like a hive of bees in the sun, and ye carry me wi’ you into peace with a little moaning sound.” 

“Jamie,” I said hoarsely, my voice echoing off the water. “Jamie, please.” 

“Not yet, mo duinne.” His hands came hard around my waist, settling and slowing me, pressing me down until I did groan. 

“Not yet. We’ve time. And I mean to hear ye groan like that again. And to moan and sob, even though you dinna wish to, for ye canna help it. I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and at last to cry out in my arms, and I shall know that I’ve served ye well.” 

The rush began between my thighs, shooting like a dart into the depths of my belly, loosening my joints so that my hands slipped limp and helpless off his shoulders. My back arched and the slippery firm roundness of my breasts pressed flat against his chest. I shuddered in hot darkness, Jamie’s steadying hands all that kept me from drowning. 

Resting against him, I felt boneless as a jellyfish. I didn’t know—or care—what sort of sounds I had been making, but I felt incapable of coherent speech. Until he began to move again, strong as a shark under the dark water. 

“No,” I said. “Jamie, no. I can’t bear it like that again.” The blood was still pounding in my fingertips and his movement within me was an exquisite torture. 

“You can, for I love ye.” His voice was half-muffled in my soaking hair. “And you will, for I want ye. But this time, I go wi’ you.” 

He held my hips firm against him, carrying me beyond myself with the force of an undertow. I crashed formless against him, like breakers on a rock, and he met me with the brutal force of granite, my anchor in the pounding chaos. 

Boneless and liquid as the water around us, contained only by the frame of his hands, I cried out, the soft, bubbling half-choked cry of a sailor sucked beneath the waves. And heard his own cry, helpless in return, and knew I had served him well. 


We struggled upward, out of the womb of the world, damp and steaming, rubber-limbed with wine and heat. I fell to my knees at the first landing, and Jamie, trying to help me, fell down next to me in an untidy heap of robes and bare legs. Giggling helplessly, drunk more with love than with wine, we made our way side by side, on hands and knees up the second flight of steps, hindering each other more than helping, jostling and caroming softly off each other in the narrow space, until we collapsed at last in each other’s arms on the second landing. 

Here an ancient oriel window opened glassless to the sky, and the light of the hunter’s moon washed us in silver. We lay clasped together, damp skins cooling in the winter air, waiting for our racing hearts to slow and breath to return to our heaving bodies. 

The moon above was a Christmas moon, so large as almost to fill the empty window. It seemed no wonder that the tides of sea and woman should be subject to the pull of that stately orb, so close and so commanding. 

But my own tides moved no longer to that chaste and sterile summons, and the knowledge of my freedom raced like danger through my blood. 

“I have a gift for you too,” I said suddenly to Jamie. He turned toward me and his hand slid, large and sure, over the plane of my still-flat stomach. 

“Have you, now?” he said. 

And the world was all around us, new with possibility.

-Outlander 

lovely-styless  asked:

hey! can you rec some of your favorite pining fics that have multiple chapters? possibly one of them doesn't know they're gay? thanks so much!!💓

Hey babe! Sorry for getting back to you so late but I never have time cuz of uni. So you asked for some pining recs, however I actually don’t like to read them because they are just too painful for me. I still looked up some and found that there are tons! I’ll list a few, but I strongly suggest that you ask other rec blogs or just search up the tumblr tag # larry pining ! There are a lot to pick from 

~Ami 

Say You’ll Remember by whisperdlullaby (93k words)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they’re also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

Dreaming of You by Velvetoscar (68k words)

The Begrudging Starbucks AU.

The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel.

Untangle Me by suicxne (103k words)

Louis finds himself out of place in LA, unable to get at an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He supposes back in the early days, home hadn’t been a place. It’d been a person. He’d etched it permanently into his skin for fucks sake.
It was always him and Harry. Stuck to each other like super glue. Pulled together by some magnetic force, existing in their own bubble. Everyone could see it, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it?

It’s not like Louis can pinpoint the exact moment in time when him and Harry fell out of sync. There wasn’t really one at all. It had been a gradual slip, like the tide wearing away at a sandstone cliff. Chipping the solid foundations until there was nothing left to stop the structure falling to the waves below. It’s not like he spends all of his time sitting around moping over a lost friendship, he’s good at distractions. But LA only seems to accentuate the distance between them. Two separate planets, not even in the same solar system.

Follow Your Heart by Jackstylinson (32k words)

“What do you mean exactly?” Harry asks. Louis’ heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. His stomach is sinking, and he’s holding his breath waiting for the words he knows are coming.

“We think it would be best to market you guys as a couple,” Simon tells them. The tone in his voice makes Louis think there’s no wiggle room to even try to argue about it.

Louis’ heart stops and his breath hitches. This cannot be happening. This has to be some sort of dream. Actually this has to be some sort of prank, really. He absentmindedly looks around the room for any evidence of hidden cameras or microphones to no avail.

“You’re kidding,” Louis says flatly. Louis is pretty sure a lot of the music industry these days likes to hide the fact that an artist isn’t straight, afraid that it might affect record sales and now he’s sitting in the middle of an executive label meeting being told he had to be in a relationship with his best friend–who’s a boy he’s been secretly in love with for most of his adolescence–in order to sell records? What kind of alternate universe level bullshit is he living in?

Runner on Third by kikikryslee (39k words)

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was.
“Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it.
Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?”
“I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.”
Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?”
“Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?”
“I’m his teacher.”
“You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed.
Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year.

Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don’t pick up where they left off.

these bountiful silences by tommoandbambi (123k words) I read this fic and its just beautiful 

hey live in a world where they can only say four words per day. harry meets some people that don’t want to live that way.

Pining List Rec by Softhie

Pining List Rec by teamsololouis

✩ = our favorites

The Begrudging Starbucks AU.The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel.

“So,” Louis asks dragging out the vowel sound and raising an eyebrow. “Heard you wanted a tattoo?”
“Oh! Um….Yeah.” Pebbles stutters his voice huskier than Louis anticipated from his first word and appearance. “This!” He exclaims, holding out the drawing in his hand.
It’s a sketch of a large butterfly in shades of black and grey.
Or an AU where Harry works in a coffee shop and Louis works in a tattoo shop. Chance encounters bring them together and they go from there.

“Gracie loves faeries, don’t you, little love?” Louis asks, cutting through Harry’s thoughts, and she spares a glance over her shoulder at her father, nodding quickly before looking back at the house and touching it with gentle fingers.
Harry looks up at him, and they share a small smile, Louis making him feel warm, warm, warm. “This is her house, and it’s my favorite thing in my shop,” Harry explains, and Louis crouches slightly so he can see it better.
“’S beautiful,” he murmurs, and Harry smiles appreciatively at him.
Harry looks at Gracie again, blonde hair falling into her face as she inspects the glittery house, and he instinctively tucks her hair back behind her ear. “I’ve never seen the faerie,” he says to her softly, “but sometimes, when it’s very quiet, I can feel her.” He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, just sitting like that for a few seconds for the effect. “That’s how I know she’s watching over me.”
Or, the one where Louis has a quiet little girl, Harry has a toy shop with a magic faerie house, and they were made to fall in love.

Louis was pretty sure that a nerd who plays Scrabble as a hobby could only be boredom personified. Harry proved him utterly wrong. 

Louis never expected himself to fall in love again, especially at a coffeeshop of all places. 

In which Harry likes to start puzzles, and Louis likes to finish them

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anonymous asked:

Any coffeshop au's? Thaankssss 💕

- Fall Into Some Velvet Morning , by @twinkylourry​ : Louis shrieks loudly as his body collides with the other boy’s, face smashing into said boy’s back which, of course, made him topple from his weird yoga pose. They lay sprawled on the ground, Louis on top of the weird kid who does fucking yoga in a park. Yoga Boy lifts his head out of the grass and mumbles in a gravely voice, “You ruined my vibes there, mate.”Louis groans as he sits up and rolls off of Yoga Boy’s back. “Yea, well, you ruined my skateboard, mate. Think we’re quite even.”or au where harry does yoga in parks and louis may or may not want to get into his yoga pants. (6k, also the best wall sex ever)

- Shy Eyes , by @isthatyoularry​ : Coffee Shop AU where Harry is 21 and famous and he has been in love since the moment he saw those cerulean blue eyes. (2k, no smut)

- pour some sugar on me  by @bottomlinsons​: Harry’s a bit clueless, and Louis’ a barista with clever hands. (here meaning: Harry’s very clueless, and Louis draws dicks in coffee foam.) (2k, cuuute)

Hiding Out in the Kitchen, by LittleMousling  : Harry’s in an internationally famous boyband with his three best mates, he gets laid on a pretty regular basis, and he’s headed to Australia in a week. He doesn’t need anything else, and he certainly doesn’t need a boyfriend. If this nice guy he met in a coffeeshop wants to date him, great—but that’s all it is. Right? (23k, famous!Harry)

- It’s hard to look at you, baby , by @laddybropals​ :Coffee Shop AU where Louis is going through a dry spell, Zayn wants to be a good friend and help Louis find someone, and Harry ends up finding him instead.[or the one where louis is ‘hella fucking gay and desperately single’ and harry wants to change that last part.] (14k, my fav)

- A Cuppa Courage , by @juliusschmidt​: Liam kicks Harry’s shin, picking up another cup to fill. “He seems like he’d be a good catch, if you liked guys, I mean.” I do like guys, Harry does not say, even though he’d like to shout it at the top of his lungs. I DO LIKE GUYS. [a fluffy lil’ fall coffee shop coming out au.] (3.2k, no smut)

- falling for your hallelujah , by whiskeyinthejar : here’s a homeless boy who’s made his new place outside Louis’s work. Louis, in unexpected generosity, offers him a cup of coffee and a sprinkle doughnut. No one really expected it to become a Thing.-(In which Louis works in a cafe, Harry has no home, and it’s freezing cold but no one cares). (19k)

 - i think that possibly maybe i’m falling for you by  littledarling:  Louis never expected himself to fall in love again, especially at a coffeeshop of all places.   (11k, a bit angsty)  

Update : (last update April 4th 2017)

- I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much (All of the while I never knew, all of the while it was you) by being_a_fangirl :   Based off of the tumblr post where Harry is a coffee shop barista and Louis is the boy who never gives the same name. Cute, wonderful, all-encompassing fluff ensues. (2.4k)

- Don’t say I love you, ‘cause I might believe you , by @misteryzouis: One day a cute stranger enters Harry’s cafeteria with a hesitant question and a nice accent. Harry doesn’t know if he wants him to ever leave. (47k)

- even with our oath , by @hirlalmighty​ : Though Harry is glad Liam cares about him, he also really hates that Liam cares about him. Liam’s coworker Louis really isn’t Harry’s type - he probably even listens to commercial radio, for God’s sake.In which Harry and Louis go to great lengths to appease Liam, Louis’s taste in music broadens dramatically, and Harry stops pretending to be a Huge Pretentious Douche all the time. (20k)

- And this old world is a new world , by @ifidoitsyou : Louis works in a little coffee shop although he hates coffee but what can you do when you’re pretty much living day by day trying to ignore that dream of yours you’re too scared to pursue. And then Harry enters the scene, or more precisely the coffee shop. He’s beautiful and kind and funny and also famous and not in town for very, very long. But that doesn’t keep Louis from maybe falling for him a bit and his friends from randomly inviting him along to go golfing.(44k)

- blend into my favourite colour , by anonymous : Harry often wonders if they’ll ever meet in real life. And if Harry will recognize Tommo the instant they see each other, like somehow their souls will just know. Or maybe Harry’s soul is shouting “Louis!” too loudly for any other signals to go through.Harry is a barista with a secret Werewolf High fan blog, a desperate crush on a customer named Louis, and a best friend on Tumblr who always makes him laugh. Louis can’t figure out why the barista at his favorite coffee shop keeps creepily staring at him, and to make matters worse, he may be slightly in love with a friend he met online.A love square involving two boys, one TV fandom, and one food fight. (19k)

- It Was Really Nothing, by @greyish-sky : (8:10) You shouldn’t assume things / (8:10) I’m the one who makes your day a lot sunnier and brighter / (8:12) Pretentious, you said? / (8:12) You’re just fishing compliments.    Or, Harry texts the wrong number.  (14k)

- Dreaming of you , by Velvetoscar : The Begrudging Starbucks AU. The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel. (74k)

- Down For The Count And I’m Drowning And I’m Helpless , by @doncasterkitten   : Harry Styles is an international pop star who suffers from insomnia, and Louis is the sassy little barista in fox ears and tail that won’t get out of Harry’s head. And the sexting is pretty damn great, too.  (5k)

- From My Heart Flow : Louis’ a poet, Harry’s failing Econ, and sometimes all it takes is one poorly timed boner to ruin everything. (8k)

- Four Letters, Seven Points : Louis was pretty sure that a nerd who plays Scrabble as a hobby could only be boredom personified. Harry proved him utterly wrong. (20k)

- Café Noir : Harry Styles is secretly a world famous writer of bodice rippers. He is struck by writer’s block and he craves late night coffee. Luckily, there is a little café that provides both inspiration and a delicious caramel macchiato. While pretending to write his next story, Harry finds a new muse and winds up falling for one of the baristas: bright, cheerful Louis Tomlinson. (4k)

pining fic rec (21 fics)

here is a quick little fic rec of some of my favorite fics with pining!! i hope y’all like them, and as always drop by my ask with requests!  💖

❉ - means you need an ao3 account to read!

Searching For The Cure (We Found Us) by itsprobablylarry (30k)

“So you woke up as a frog,” Louis considers out loud. “What if you’re like that princess that turns into a swan during the day but is a human between sunset and sunrise?”

Harry just blinks at him, clearly unimpressed.


(Basically: Louis doesn’t quite know how to handle the fact that his best friend/roommate wakes up as a frog.)

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New fic: ‘Damn weather’

This fic is for @emilyevanston, for being one of the kindest people there is. I’ve had a horrible day, including getting soaked through (sadly with a different ending than this fic!), being laughed at because of my mental health problems, then working late… But @emilyevanston made things better. Thank you <3

So this was supposed to be a short thing but I waffle on, a lot. The idea came to me on the bus as I sat there wet through and I wrote it when I got in from work, so it’s a bit rushed, sorry. 

I know you’re not a BuckyGirl, but this wouldn’t have worked with Chris/Steve/Cap. I promise the next Chris idea I have, is for you <3


You couldn’t actually get any wetter now, you were pretty sure. Your umbrella had been turned inside out and was now dumped in the nearest bin, accompanied by muttered cursing.  Your boots, it turned out, had a hole in the sole and now one foot was wet and squelching. One wet foot was somehow worse than two, although the toes on both feet were numb with cold.  Your coat, advertised as waterproof, was apparently only proof against water that was in a sealed box a mile away. Water that was falling down from the sky was too much for it.  Your hands were red with cold, your nose probably matched, and your hair was plastered to your face.  

You were standing by the side of the road, trying to get across, eyes firmly fixed on the bright windows of the café opposite.  The windows were fogged with steam, telling you just how warm it would be if you could just get across and in there. You wanted to wrap your hands around a warm mug of coffee, let the steam unlock the frozen muscles on your face, warm up just for half an hour or so before you faced the walk home. But you couldn’t get across. The traffic was constant, cars rushing past, headlights shining on the wet road, wheels hushing in the rain.  You let out a sigh of frustration.

“Damn traffic, huh?”

You looked up, surprised. You’d been so busy trying to blink the water off your eyelashes that you hadn’t realised there was someone else standing waiting now. Someone… oh… wow. Someone very attractive.  He gave you a half-smile, that smile of recognition, of fellow feeling, that said ‘look at the two of us, standing here all wet, while these drivers zoom past all dry’.  You couldn’t help but smile back; the way his mouth turned up at the corners was impossible to resist.

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teahouseghost  asked:

Thank you so much for this blog! I've been trying to research, but was just thinking how nice it would be to talk to a person who knew about this stuff. So I have a character who travels up and down a river in a small boat that is steam powered. How big can this boat be for her to man it by herself? Setting is late 1800s ish, steampunk style setting.

I’m so glad to be able to help!  Unfortunately, what I have to say might not be something you want to hear: a single person operating any kind of steam boat would be rather dangerous.  Although steam power is an excellent way to power a vessel, one of the reasons that the world at large has moved away from it is because it’s inherently dangerous.  Not only can the hot steam cause burns, but the engines themselves are more likely to explode due to high pressure.  You’re in a Steampunk type of world, of course, so you’re going to see lots of steam power, but I would think that in a world with so much steam, you’re also going to see people pretty conscious of the risks involved.

Granted, I’m not a big connoisseur of steampunk, so some of what I’m saying might just be accepted in that world.  It’s conceivable that a steampunk setting might have advanced steam technology a bit so that it’s safer; modern technology has mostly done the same, but - to be brutally honest - you still wouldn’t catch me on any small steam vessel like that by myself.  (But…well, if your character is the type to be okay with risks, and in a world that makes light of said risks, I’d say go for it!)

All that said, let me move onto answering your question.

Any steam boat traveling in a river is going to be a paddlewheeler or a sidewheeler.  This is both because their draft (distance from the waterline to the bottom of the keel) is shallower, which you need in a river, and because they can often “walk” off of sandbars instead of going hard aground.

Paddlewheeler:

Sidewheeler:

I would recommend a sidewheeler, because they’re generally a little less complicated and probably easier for a single person to control.  Also, the only small-crewed steamboats I’ve found have all been sidewheelers.  It’s not inconceivable for a small-crew paddlewheeler to exist, but I’d say one person trying to run one would just be in for a world of hurt.

Here’s a model of Pryoscaphe, one of the first steamboats built.  Pryoscaphe was built in 1793, and you’ll note that she’s a sidewheeler, although her wheels are very small.  She had a crew of three.

Better yet, here’s a modern steamboat sidewheeler, built by someone around 2011.  You can see a youtube video of it here, and I think something like this might be what you’re looking for.  It does seem to be operable by one person, and is about 19 feet long.  That’s small enough to be managed by your lonely character, but big enough for a steam engine.  (Note: this boat was built with a modern steam engine, so depending upon your world’s technology level, this may or may not be possible.  For contrast, Pyroscaphe was over 42 feet long; she might look smaller in the picture, but she really was quite large.  

Facts aside, this is fantasty/steampunk, so you can probably get away with creating a sidewheeler like the one above.  The engine would probably be bigger (it wouldn’t be able to hide so well behind the wheels, anyway), and would take up more space, but it would still be very do-able.  The big things to remember are that the draft has to be shallow in order to operate in a river, and that steam is inherently dangerous - so your character wouldn’t just be able to leave the engine running and walk away.  Even worse, steam engines take quite a bit of time to start up (building pressure and temperature safely takes time), so quick getaways in a steamboat probably aren’t happening.  But if your character just wants to travel, and has the time to do things right, a steamboat is a really cool way to do it.

Good luck writing!

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Proposed: Thedas is not a ‘medieval’ setting

I don’t know about you, but when I was first considering the overall state of Thedas, mostly for worldbuilding purposes, I was semi-consciously thinking of it as a fairly typical pseudo-medieval-Europe.  And that’s natural enough, because in Origins, Ferelden really did look like that.  Thatching, half-timbering, nobles in fortified castles, a fairly monolithic church around which much of society was built.

The further you go into the franchise, though, the more problems you encounter with this.  Kirkwall as a city doesn’t give off a particularly medieval vibe, nor does its government.  You have sailing ships that are more advanced than Europe saw in the middle ages, you have the Qunari with their mind-altering drugs and poison gases and explosives, you have a popular novelist.  A popular novelist requires printing presses, paper manufacture, relatively widespread literacy, and fairly complex shipping systems to exist.  The first European novels were published after the medieval period.  Come Inquisition, we have the almost Baroque Orlesians, broadsheet newspapers, and a lot of things most people probably didn’t notice, like cast iron cookstoves and Bianca Davri’s steam-powered thresher.

Here’s the thing.  Okay here’s a lot of things.  I once had pages of notes trying to work this out, and I’ve tried a dozen times to make a post about it, but it’s too much.  I give up being organized.  So here’s some of the things:

  • Ferelden is a poor backwater.  I know, I’m a rabid Fereldan too, but to the rest of Thedas, it is canonically the arse end of nowhere.  It is no more a good example of the overall technological state of Thedas than the hills of my Appalachian home (where people lived without power or indoor plumbing well into the 20th century) in the 19th century were a good indication of the state of things in 19th century Boston, even though they were only a few days’ ride apart.
  • Thedas’ history and development is in no way like the real world.  It’s a place where the world faces a potentially fatal apocalypse ever few hundred years.  Again, the first game is pretty misleading in this regard, because we neatly wrapped up that Blight in, supposedly, a year, without it ever escaping the borders of one country.  The First Blight lasted over a hundred years and ranged across all of Thedas.  Far and away the shortest Blight besides the fifth still lasted 12 years and destroyed entire kingdoms.  That’s five huge periods of world war and cultural destruction.
  • Magic.  I mean, obviously.  Now, the tangible existence of magic and demons in the Dragon Age arguably has a lot to do with the strength of the Chantry, which has set itself up as a protector from these evils, thus providing an excellent excuse to accumulate military power and suppress dissent.  It doesn’t really effect everyday life much for anyone but mages in the Dragon Age–most people have never seen a mage, and only the wealthy can afford enchanted items.  But of the five empires Thedas has seen, only two (dwarves and Qunari) put any emphasis on technology, and the earliest two (Elvhenan and Tevinter) relied very heavily on magic, and thus presumably had very little incentive to develop technology.
  • The Qunari deliberately suppress at least some technological innovations in the south.  Remember your friendly neighborhood dwarf who liked to blow shit up from Awakening?  His name is Dworkin Glavonak.  You meet his cousin Temmerin in DA2 during the Finding Nathaniel questline, and he tells you that Dworkin’s been driven into hiding by the Qunari. (video)  Certainly sheds new light on why no one outside of dwarves seems to have explosives or gunpowder in the south.  Orzammar dwarves may be the exception here because a) they use lyrium in their explosives, thus making them self-limiting due to the restricted access to lyrium, and b) since Orzammar is a closed society and you cannot come in from the outside, the Qun could not easily place spies in Orzammar society anyway.

So let’s look again, not starting from Origins but look back from Inquisition.  And this time when we look, we find a world that

  • has steam technology, albeit very new–steam-powered threshers were invented around the 1850′s
  • has cast iron stoves such as were not invented in our world until the 1850′s
  • has a canonical reason for lacking gunpowder–which, in turn, completely changes the nature of warfare (or more accurately, doesn’t change it, since it’s guns and cannons that put an end to armor and swords and siege weapons)
  • clearly has printing presses, even if we don’t see them, because there are popular, cheaply printed novels and broadsheet publications and banned book lists

And it’s not quite all from later games, either.  Branka was made a paragon for the invention of ‘smokeless coal’–which isn’t actually a thing in itself but rather a process which removes the impurities from the coal so that it then burns cleaner.  Which, as far as I can ascertain, is a process that was developed during, you guessed it, the 1800′s.

Now, I’m not trying to excuse all the inconsistencies in technology or claim that the devs did a good job of following through on all the implications of things they stuck into Thedas.  Frankly, I think it’s a weak point in their worldbuilding.  BUT it’s really going to keep not making any sense if you try to insist that the setting is more-or-less-medieval-Europe.  In fact, I think it’s futile to try to match Thedas up to any period of real-world development, partly because Thedas’ history is just too wildly different, and partly because a lot of the worldbuilding is done by sticking a bunch of cultures into a blender and picking out what they like.  But if you start thinking about it as a place where technology has continued to develop in places to something roughly congruent to the western world in the 1850′s, but with none of the socioeconomic conditions that created the Industrial Revolution, you might be a bit closer.

mother lessons

fold yourself seven times
and then one more
shrink to fit into this world
hide your wrinkles with steam

color yourself yellow
because yellow is the color of sunshine
tuck it under your tongue
and remind everyone of your new hue

you are not blue
blue is just a state of mind
say no, say no, say no
everything is within your power

with aspirin between your knees
and a smile on your face
you will make it like i did
so temper your tone and stand up straight

Amoré

Characters - Peter Parker x Reader.

 Word Count - 1030

Warnings - Language

A/N - This was supposed to be a drabble series but my brain wouldn’t stop. I just wanted to write something cute and light for once. The characters are minors so it’s going to be a fluff journey with no funny business. I just love Peter Parker, I think he’s adorable and hopefully I captured that because i’ve literally never written him before so bear with me.

Amoré Masterlist

Originally posted by captainamericacivilwhore

 You stared down at the touch screen before you as a customer spewed an order at you. The whole setup seemed alien; you didn’t know what to press or how to tailor the order specific to what the customer was saying. Frustration was starting to flow through your veins, along with a fresh rush of anxiety. Frozen and flustered, your fingers hovered over the screen.

“Hello?” The woman’s voice carried a heavy tone of irritation as she snapped her fingers in your face, “are you even paying attention? I swear every time I come here, you people always mess up my order.”

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here we go!  SPG characters, colour coded and as accurate as i could possible get it without turning mad.

there might be mistakes,  ive already fixed some.   some things are just pure speculations/headcanon or just wishful thinking.  open in new tab for better image.