[　...　]　𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾　𝑠𝑜　𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄　𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻　𝗂'𝗆　𝚊̲𝚕̲𝚕̲　𝚘̲𝚟̲𝚎̲𝚛̲　your　𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖍　!
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( 𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥, 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 ? ) “ i’ve told you once, i’ll tell you again: leave my fucking car alone. ” call it what it is: a bizarre attachment to an unremarkable car, fondness that surpasses any 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 sense. “ what’s it ever done to hurt you ? ”
@idolumz - rukhsar & edward .
golden-honey eyes landed on her brother , having entered their home from the garage as she usually did. " darling brother , i've said this once and i will say it again --- get rid of the volvo . you're not an early 2000s soccer mom . "
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* 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁: 𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗯𝗵𝗮𝗻 ﹠ 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗶.
“ the pacific north - west does nothin’ for your complexion. ” there’s the 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 in that rhythmic brogue of hers — it’s the kind of comment only she can get away with, the type permitted after so many centuries of a history interlinked. ( + what a 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 one it is, at that ! the early years, she + @sweetbittcr, italian palazzos + endless questions / how she’d dug greedy fingers in, tore apart anecdotal scraps thrust out about this lifestyle that neither of them had really, truly signed up to. ) “ i’d 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 to say you look well, dima, but … ” there it is again, teasing wrapped in silken hints at laughter + warmhearted sobriquet ! “ you’re not plaid shirt material, darlin’. ”
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* 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁: 𝗮. 𝘀𝗼́𝗻𝗴 - 𝘇𝗵𝗼𝘂 ﹠ 𝗹. 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿.
oh, sweet sanctuary ! when metaphorical walls start closing in ( forks is far too good for that, 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 - 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗐𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗈𝖻𝗂𝖼 ) it’s a reflex / like breathing: the beanery awaits. it’s almost never a conscious decision, to drift into what feels like safe haven + yet, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕, when there’s a telltale tightening in their chest … moth, meet flame ! they’re practically furniture, 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 familiar sight — mayhem has already started playing slalom in the spaces between their legs by the time @sweetbittcr makes an appearance. “ has my copy of a certain hunger come in yet ? ” greeting errs on the side of playful, 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑜𝑢𝑠 question warped by the grin that dares to dance around the corners of bitten mouth. “ i’m feeling the NEED for cannibals with a 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. ”
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how easy it is, to while away hours in blessed, companiable silence / lilting refrains fill 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 where anyone more disagreeable may choose to slot meaningless chatter. only when restless digits come to a dignified stay does esme offer 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢, + it coaxes the beginnings of a soft smile unto carved mien. “ thank you. ” he’ll swivel, shift to face her ; it still sparks an UNSPEAKABLE pride, to create something she enjoys. ( hardly a people - pleaser, jesus … maternally specific, perhaps ? ) “ no title yet, it’s still … coming to me, i suppose. 𝗶’𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆. ”
𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇, 𝖾𝗌𝗆𝖾 ﹠ 𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇, 𝖾𝖽𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 :
@idolumz / " it's a lovely song. " she notes from her seat on the chaise, barely looking up from the page in her book. it's not an excellent one, but she'd promised a colleague weeks ago to read it. ' one of your best ', she thinks. how proud she always has been of him - his creativity one she revels in. while her form of art is the physical - fine arts and architecute - she can appreciate his own just as well. and she does, delighting in taking it in while she occupies herself. " have you given it a title yet? "
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𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐁𝐇𝐀𝐍. ⇀ love's out there, + i can't leave it be.
༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴, or: overview.
full name. siobhan.
age. physically twenty9 / actually 513.
date + place of birth. february 18th, 1481 ; dublin, ireland.
species. vampire.
nationality. irish.
gender. cis woman.
pronouns. she/her.
orientations. biromantic bisexual.
loyalties. the irish coven.
notable family. liam, fiancé. maggie, adopted daughter / sister.
༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙾, or: biographical.
eldest daughter, only daughter / she’s born on the outskirts of dublin, + as far as anybody is concerned, she died there at the age of twenty - nine. ( for years, she’ll think of what happened as a fate far worse, something she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. beautiful things come from hardship, sure, but nobody should have to go through all of that shit. ) regardless — siobhan is the only child of a local blacksmith, riyan, + his wife, majella.
she doesn’t remember much of her childhood, given the sheer depth & breadth of time that’s passed — what she does recall, though, is done so fondly. her father was quiet, with callused hands + a soft smile that always began at the crinkling skin near his eyes. her mother, she smelled of a certain sweetness that in all this time, she’s never been able to find again. ( they were good people, this much she knows as stone - cold fact. they were good … + so was she, once upon a time. all those moons ago, huh ? )
riyan + marjella aren’t destined for sons, or any more daughters / no, they get the one — headstrong, opinionated, born so far beyond her time ! there’s no taming a woman like siobhan, that much is clear from an early age … always more at home near her father’s forge than anywhere else, she’s a keen observer of his craft. she watches how he makes metal sing, turns it into something exquisite ; her mother, of course, would rather have her helping about the home but there’s no telling siobhan what to do. she finds utmost contentment in watching, asking her father questions, relishing in the moments when he asks for her help.
she grows, + she doesn’t seem to stop. tall + devastating, there’s something of the evelyn hugo about her — preternaturally beautiful, unique essence that’s incredibly hard to replicate. boys + men alike in town are somehow both reviled + intrigued by her, with her rough tongue / strength unlike any seen before / piercing gaze, slightest quirk of her mouth in a smirk that makes you feel like she’s playing a joke on you, + you’re well out of the loop.
she’s seventeen when it happens, when riyan dies in a tragic accident. she’s lucky enough to be well away from the forge, to hear of it rather than see it / to mourn it, rather than be scarred by it. gaping wound of it all is felt to the bone, especially when her mother stares stricken at his forge — family income depends on its operation, on someone stoking a fire & making magic from scraps. bless her heart, majella’s too delicate for the work … + so it goes untouched for a week, cold, formidable. neither of them can dare to look at it ; majella is the one to delicately broach the topic of selling it, finding money somewhere else.
oh, but she’s spent years watching / waiting / helping, she knows how to work the entire damn thing better than any man in the fuckin’ town. something of a birthright takes proper shape when she steps up … christ, she’s good at what she does. ( knows it, too, just how brilliant she is. every day, as sweat beads on her brow + hands roughen exponentially ) curious, how business seems to BOOM twice as hard when daughter takes over father’s mantel, carries on a legacy that was never intended to be cut quite as short as it was.
there are good things, + bad things, about being the kind of woman with a reputation. it keeps her family well fed / it draws attention, whether she wants it or not. case in point: it’s a cold, sunny day when he rolls into town, slick + effortlessly charming. he makes no effort to disguise the way he glances at her, sleeves rolled up + mouth alight with overworked unkindness. ( “are ye’ goin’ to stand around all feckin’ day, or are ye’ goin’ t’buy somethin’?” ) oh, if only it scared him off … rather, resistance incites him to what comes next.
( he does it in the middle of the night, the coward. sneaks in through an open window, steals her out of her bed. all manner of horrors, does he inflict on her, + biting her is somehow the best of them. )
killing him, + his cronies, is a goddamned delight. ( she’s always been strong, but never like this … so unquenchable, nothing tires her / nothing stops her, not even the feverish hunger that sancar had tried so fruitlessly to keep up with. ) not even six months old when she takes her vengeance / when taylor swift wrote, give me back my girlhood, it was mine first … same feeling as the adrenaline that courses so swiftly through her veins as she dispatches of the fuckin’ abomination that stole hers.
returning to dublin is too hard, too much of a red - raw ache ; instead, she travels. europe is vast, + she has all the time in the world. a brief stint in england, one in france / a longer stay in italy, nearly a year, where she picks at the volturi in an attempt to wrap her head around their impossible gifts, their laws constructed out of thin air. ( never once does she consider that she might possess her own, that there are forces beyond her control but not out of her manipulation. )
it takes years, to muster up the courage to return home ; it’s with a quiet, determined wish that she does. ( ethel cain had it right: love’s out there, + she can’t leave it be. ) it takes approximately two months to find him, newborn + feral around the edges, such a similar position to her early years / nowhere near as strong — he’s softer, kinder. liam, he introduces himself as. ( it’s interesting, how he doesn’t look at her like something to be … coveted, a possession to sit on a shelf. he looks at her like she’s the goddamned sun, + it makes her heart pinwheel. ) she’s met other covens before, but having her own … it feels like the first time she stood at her father’s forge, turned rough scrap into something beautiful, something she could be proud of. it feels like home.
she doesn’t mean to fall in love with him. really, she doesn’t — it’s just so goddamned hard not to. when you know, you know … + siobhan’s known since their fifth year together, when their hands brushed + it felt like electricity down her spine.
they get engaged in 1822, a gorgeous affair that leaves her breathless + weeping the minute he bends on one knee. ( ��to this day, they’ve not yet gotten married / she’ll catch herself aching to call him her husband, like her mouth was made for the word. little does she know that he’s been referring to her as his wife for at least 100 years behind her back. ) a few years later, they find her — maggie. poor little thing, she’s skin + bones when they stumble across her, + she knows they’re lying about who they are, what they are. in all her years, it’s the first time siobhan’s ever been recognised instantly ; sparks a sense of intrigue that she doesn’t shake, can’t get rid of.
she discusses it with liam, of course, the idea of adding maggie to the coven. ( to the family, is what goes unsaid, but not unconsidered. ) she has an insurmountable fondness for the spindly girl they’re looking after, an interest in the percipient spark behind her eyes. ultimately, she makes it maggie’s choice: she asks, in the plainest terms she can muster, whether she’d be interested in something better. have you ever wanted to be a god, girl ? ( what other answer is there, when you put it like that ? )
she never thought a family would be on the cards / never thought that love was made for her, soft, sweet thing that it is. she’d never have imagined, in her wildest dreams, that she’d get to spend eternity in adoration of people she’s come to hold in the highest regard. she doesn’t mind the constant traveling, the reinvention of self that comes with it ; home has long since stopped being a place, + more so people. liam + maggie, they’re the best home she could ask for.
༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴, or: personal.
nicknamed shiv ; partly because she likes knives, partly because her family are fully aware that she could disembowel a man with her fingernails. rocking the ‘looks sweet as hell but would not hesitate to end you’ vibe !
girlie is fucking jacked. it’s so important that everybody knows how MUSCULAR she is <333 blacksmith’s daughter vibes … she’s so strong. she’s so sexy. she’s so fucking tall. liam come get ur 6’0 girl before i do-
fiercely protective of the ones she loves. absolutely nobody has lived to tell the tale of how they threatened liam or maggie, & survived.
speaking of liam <333 she + liam have been engaged since the 1820s. they’re so in love, & so fucking annoying <333333 they haven’t made any progress towards an actual wedding, + make it an art form to bicker over the details of the event. ( it’s not like it matters, given they’ve been together for well over 350 years now. everyone around them is begging them to get an event planner. )
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𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍, 𝐸𝐷𝑊𝐴𝑅𝐷 𝐴𝑁𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑁𝑌. ⇀ surrender to the fume / it's all flesh, + 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, + forgotten now.
༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴, or: overview.
full name. edward anthony cullen.
age. physically, twenty2 / actually, 122.
date + place of birth. june 20th, 1901 ; chicago, illinois, usa.
species. vampire.
nationality. american.
gender. demi man.
pronouns. he/them.
orientations. biromantic bisexual.
loyalties. the olympic coven.
notable family. carlisle cullen, adopted father. esme cullen, adopted mother. alice cullen, adopted sister. emmett cullen, adopted brother. rosalie hale, adopted sister. jasper hale, adopted brother.
༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙾, or: biographical.
edward anthony masen ( the second, a fact that nobody is letting him forget any - fuckin’ - time soon ! ) is born the only son to edward & elizabeth masen. beloved, beleaguered child — adored & doomed, in equal measures, by singular status. mother teeters on overbearing + father impresses upon baby - faced little boy that the family legacy is his to bear, on spindly little shoulders not designed for such a burden.
the masens are moneyed, comfortably so, courtesy of edward masen snr’s role as a highly successful lawyer ; allows him to send his only son to private schools ( catholic, naturally — more on this later ) & music lessons alike / god, how he takes to it. brilliant mind, natural charm … oh, to have it all !! ( elizabeth claims she gets it from him, + she’s right. they’re both effervescent, warm characters ; inviting, with laughter in deep brown hues. he looks so much like her, all dark hair + mouth built to curl into a smile, to catch on a canine as he’s trying to bite back a grin that’ll reach into every corner of a beautifully chiseled countenance. )
there’s a marked difference in the before + after, with him. before: he’s got the whole world in the palm of his hand, knows it too. clever, talented, charming … he has plans, to get a degree + to make a difference in the world. to do something useful, to become a man his mother could burst with pride over / do you think she would be proud of you now, boy ? with crimson wetting the corners of your downturned lips ?
cue: the spanish influenza ! his father goes down first, a quiet passing that edward can’t bring himself to properly mourn. ( can you grieve for a man who felt more like a ghost ? ) his mother is next, infinitely less quietly – she cries, she screams, she clings to whatever shreds of life she can. she begs the golden - eyed doctor to look after her boy ( to do what others can’t for him, doctor, please, he’s my world- ) + it’s not long after that when she slips away, goes still + quiet in a way he’s never known. his heart cleaves in two for her, + his own illness ratchets up shortly after.
he thinks he imagines it, being lifted / whisked away. he’s unaware of where he is, what’s going on … barely conscious, but the world comes to in vivid carmine when carlisle whispers something like a prayer & sinks his teeth in. he’s never known agony quite like it — for a moment, he genuinely thinks he’s dead ! ( god knows he begged enough for it, that he could go gentle into that good night … ) instead of the pearly gates, he wakes up with a ravenous hunger he can’t explain / a disquiet in his very bones, like they’ve been rearranged. he’s aware, in that split second, that something has become fundamentally different about his existence.
carlisle is remarkably patient + kind with him, in the early days. it’s so easy to trust him, with his gentle disposition, his preternatural calm. in measured, even tones he explains the minutiae of this lifestyle that they share. it doesn’t take long for an unbreakable bond to form / for all the monetary worth in the world, edward masen snr. failed to give his child any tangible emotional connection. carlisle is so forthcoming with it, so genuine in his affection, that he stops becoming a friend and more the father that edward deserved. by 1920, he’s changed his surname: cullen, here + ever after.
incidentally, the first + last time edward unintentionally reads carlisle’s mind is within the first year. it’s just — he’s so concerned, has so many unspoken questions just rattling around in there, & edward snaps. all it takes is a particularly loud thought — “will you stop with the questions?” “i wasn’t asking any.” telepathy, arriveth ! always so good, at reading people like open books … it flourishes into a skill he hones over time. ( he + his family have a code, though / they invite him in, as it were, like a knock at the door. otherwise, their business is their business & he’s leaving them the fuck to it. )
it’s just the two of them, for those first few years – in 1921, he brings esme home. ( he’s always had a soft spot for mothers, + she’s an exceptional one. ) carlisle tends to her so lovingly, edward sees the writing on the wall well before they do ! it’s his first time as best man at a wedding, grinning like a fool the entire time.
( oh, the dark period … four years, something of a teenaged rebellion when he breaks off to go do god knows what. he doesn’t enjoy dwelling on it, the bloodshed / the bitterness that brewed underneath perfect - porcelain skin, rancorous in a way he didn’t know he could be. by 1931, he’s gotten over his reputation (taylor’s version) era & rejoined the family. vegetarian ever since, + gratefully so ! what he won’t ever regret, though, is tasting charles evenson’s fear / it made him so succulent, so sweet. )
the family grows — rosalie joins in 1933, emmett in 1935. ( they’re so in love that it turns his stomach a little / first instance where something that might be loneliness sparks somewhere beneath his ribcage, destined to be quashed every time he feels its telltale ache. ) 1950 brings alice + jasper; alice takes it upon herself to move into his room within the first hour of being part of the family, to his utter horror. ( their wedding is the third he attends, just as joyful as the first. if he’s suppressing a horrific sense of desolation the entire time, then that’s his goddamned business. alice can tell him that she sees someone in his future all she damn likes, he’s not convinced. ) they’re a tight unit, from then on — far from a perfect family, that much is painfully true, but he loves them with an unmistakeable fierceness.
+ so the rest of his life unfolds, a blur: more places than he cares to name, degrees collected / that goddamned graduation cap collage will haunt him for eons. ( as a rule, he favours medicine, psychological sciences. he flirted with economics very briefly, found out he hated it ! every few years, he’ll fuck around in a different academic sandpit, to varying levels of success. the only one he hasn’t done is law … call it a grudge, given that edward masen snr. was hellbent on him entering the same field. ) they move around, settle as long as they can, move on ; it works out, for the most part. he’s never been able to quell that unsettling notion, though, that he might just be missing something. someone. whatever.
༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴, or: personal.
sullen, brooding, overdramatic dickhead. i fully believe tht his siblings hv tried to push him off several bridges ( very much the scene in gilmore girls where luke shoves jess into the lake ) sheerly bc he’s annoyed them <3 in terms of how this affects how he interacts w other people … i think he’d avoid it as much as humanly possible, but it’s far more funny to inundate him with it + watch him squirm.
the fact that he drives a volvo remains devastating canon. he is now dangerously attached to it. he loves his volvo so goddamn much. he has a fucking arsenal of flashy sports cars, his entire family does — but he's gone + gotten overly attached to his shitty little volvo.
pretentious. i know it in my gut. the classical music was only the beginning of it. asked about his favourite book ? the singular novel of some long - dead writer that the square root of fuck all people have heard about. favourite movie ? he’s barely holding back a tangent about when italian cinema was at its peak. begging someone to just bash him over a shovel + put him out of his misery !
current, + only, heir of the masen family fortune / manor. for what it’s worth, he’s treating it as a creative writing project ; he 'creates' a new heir every few decades, comes forth, claims the fortune, lets that heir die, rinse, repeat. he’s never gotten a formal law degree, but fuck if he can’t write a damn good will.
pathologically bricked but god, let’s not get into that. fella’s essentially the teenage boy at bible camp who just learned what sins of the flesh were & got hot + bothered about it / never met another mindreader & he’s thanking several long - dead gods for that fact, because they’d never get over how chronically horny & how cripplingly sad he is about it.
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𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙻𝚈 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 ... all memes currently reblogged on @curextra ! please specify muse + meme.
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CHASE SUI WONDERS as Samantha Yeung
in CITY ON FIRE: We Have Met the Enemy, and He Is Us (2023)
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CHASE SUI WONDERS as Samantha Yeung
in CITY ON FIRE: Brass Tactics (2023)
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CHASE SUI WONDERS as Nikki
in BUPKIS (2023)
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BRIDGERTON (2020 - ) | s02 ep05 ‘An unthinkable Fate’
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BRIDGERTON (2020 - ) | s02 ep04 ‘VICTORY’
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simoneashley: 💚
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FELIX MALLARD as marcus
ginny & georgia : S01E03
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FELIX MALLARD as marcus baker
ginny & georgia ; s02e10
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Felix Mallard in Ginny & Georgia 2.04 “Happy My Birthday To You“
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