Wanted to make something pretty for fun so I painted one of Fanny Rosie’s photos <3
Jane Austen most likely had undiagnosed Addison's diease (because no one was aware of it yet) and that is likely what killed her. Fanny Price also exhibits many of the symptoms of Addison's or another adrenal disease. In this essay, I will . . .
Old-Timey Female Names & Surnames
I found this cool website that shares info about stage actresses who were popular in the late 1800s / early 1900s. The historical play reviews and photos are interesting enough on their own, but I also think the names of the actresses are neat too. You just don’t get many people named Eugenia anymore lol
So I compiled the names shown on the website into a list here! I separated the first & last names so you can mix & match to get your own old-timey name. I think they’re mostly of European origin, like the UK and Ireland and places like that? idk much about etymology :P
I also included some neat names from the actresses’ relatives listed in their biographies, their real names (instead of stage names), and even some character names from the productions they starred in.
Adeline / Adelina
Alexandrea / Alexandra / Alexandria
Alice / Alyce
Anna / Annie / Annabelle
Bea / Beatrice
Camille / Camilla
Cecilia / Cissy / Cissie
Dorothea / Dorothy
Eleanor / Eleonora / Ellie
Eliza / Elizabeth / Liza
Ellaline / Ellen
Emily / Emilie
Eva / Evelyn / Evie
Florence / Flo / Florrie / Flora
Gabrielle / Gaby
Gertrude / Gertie
Gladys / Gwladys
Henriette / Henrietta
Isabella / Isobel / Isabel
Jean / Jeanne
Josephine / Jose
Julia / Julie
Lettice / Letty
Lilian / Lil / Lily / Lillie / Lillah
Louise / Louisa
Marguerite / Margaret / Meg
Mary / Marie
Maud / Maude / Maudi
May / Maie
Millicent / Millie
Nancy / Nancie
Naomi / Noémie
Nathalie / Natalina / Lina
Olive / Olivia
Paula / Pauline
Rosie / Rosa / Rosina / Rosalie
Anders / Anderson
Ash / Ashbrook / Ashwell
Britt / Britton
Carringston / Carrington
Fairfax / Fairfield
Green / Greene
Jeffries / Jeffreys
Linden / Lindon
Lovat / Love
Millar / Millard / Miller
Moore / More
Ray / Raye
Robertson / Robson
꒰♡꒱ — PET NAMES MASTERLIST .
under the cut, you’ll find a total of 578 name ideas for furry friends sorted in alphabetical order!! if you find this post useful, please consider giving it a like / reblog so i know ♡♡
abby, ace, angel, annie, allie, angus, apollo, aries, athena, autumn, avery, alvin, amour, aspen, archie, artie, ava, alice, alpha, aslan, almond, alfie, axel, appricot
baby, bailey, basil, bella, bean, bandit, betty, birdie, betsy, bear, beau, bonnie, blossom, biscuit, blue, bo, boomer, brownie, bingo, bambi, bacon, billie, bubbles, bitsy, boots, bb, buddy, buster, bowser, barbie
candy, callie, chanel, chloe, cinnamon, cleo, coco, cricket, captain, cash, champ, chunky, chancey, charlie, chester, chico, chief, cooper, chipper, cookie, campbell, clove/r, coffee, coconut
daisy, dakota, delia, diamond, dixie, dolly, duchess, dane, dexter, diego, diesel, dodge/r, duke, dexter, darcey, dawn, dainty, dora, dizzy, decker, dallas, dagwood, dew, drusilla
eden, ella, ellie, emmy, eddie, elmer, eli, emmett, echo, elvis, eva, enid, eiffel, easter, elfa, edsel, evita, elzie
fiona, foxy, fern, fanny, finn, flash, frankie, fritz, fairy, fang, fancy, ferris, fey, flo, fluffy, fly, fudge, fuzzball, finch, foster, figo, fidget, frodo, flick, frieza
gaia, gumball, gumdrop, goldie, griffin, gus, georgie, gordon, garfield, glitter, gollum, goose, grover, gremlin, gem, gidget, goober, grumpy, gulliver
ham, harry, hope, hickory, harley, henry, hazel, holly, happy, hunter, hopscotch, hershey, harvey, honey, honeybee, hilda, hutch, hyde, hugo, hiccup, hawthorne, hades
icy, indie, itchy, isla, itsy bitsy, izzy, ivory, indigo, iggy, izzy, ike, ima, inigo, ira, isabella, iman
jabba, jade, jax, jj, jiffy, joey, july, juniper, june, juno, jackson, jagger, jasmine, jedi, jellybean, jack jack, jubilee, jonesy, jimbo, jock, jenkins, jinkies, jazz, janie, jaws, jennie, jiggly puff, jiggles, jodie
king, kai, kaijo, kermit, karma, krabby, kraken, kylo, koko, kali, kash, kane, kenny, kiddo, kimmy, kip, kisses, kit kat, kitty, kiwi, klaus, kleo, koda, kona, kylie, kooper, kimbo
luna, lola, lily, lady, lucky, lovey, loki, linus, lilo, lightning, leapfrog, lemon, lemondrop, lacy, luigi, lavender, lilac, leia, levi, lenny, lewis, libby, little, link, little foot, leftie, lulu, lurk, lydia, lynx, lars, lovebug
m&m, mabel, macaroni, macy, mae, midge, milo, midnight, marshmallow, maisie, mischief, mocha, monster, monty, munchkin, muppet, magenta, magoo, magic, maggie, malibu, maxwell, maximus, max, meeko, melody, mellow, mickey, millie, mimi, minnie, mint, missy, moon, moxie, muffy, muffin, mystic
nana, nanette, nanny, nani, newbury, natwick, nico, noah, nixon, nymph, nyx, nacho, nacia, nibbles, niche, noisy, nessie, nugget, napoleon, nanook, nutella, nellie, neon, neptune, nightmare
oatmeal, ozzy, octavia, october, oddball, olive, oreo, oscar, odie, olaf, oasis, oceana, o’hara, oakley, odessa, odin, ollie, olympia, omega, onyx, otis
panda, pumpkin, pops, popcorn, patches, prince, princess, precious, pepper, paige, pongo, poppy, penny, prudence, polly, priscilla, prancer, paris, pooh, peanut, potato, piggy, peppermint, pancake
ralph, ribbit, riley, rio, raphael, rebel, rex, roo, river, rocket, rosie, ruby, rey, ranger, raven, razzle, red, reese, retro, rhino, rigsby, ringo, rizzo, rocky, rogue, rolo, romeo, ross, roxie, ruckus
spencer, spyro, sadie, sage, sabrina, sugar, scout, sass, sky, sunny, sally, storm, stevie, sammie, scarlet, snickers, sweetie, snow/y, snoop/y, suzy, sookie, sapphire, sushi, sedona, skittles, sparkle/s, sweetpea, skipper, spot, sterling, sox, scar, scottie, scooby, sprocket
tinkerbell, tank, tango, tigger, teddy, taz, turner, toto, tess, topaz, tulip, tomika, tycoon, toki, trinket, tootsie, tarzan, trouble, twiggy, tetra, tia, thunder, thor, thumper, titan, toby, twinkle, twizzler
ursula, unit, urian, ulana, unix, utopia, urmina, unique, ultra, ufo
vesper, velvet, vanilla, valentine, vito, victory, voodoo, vallisa, vallie, valino, vanessa, vandooh, van goh, vega, vee, varro
wolfe, wolfie, wagner, whiskers, wendy, willie, worm, winnie, waldo, woody, warlock, wildfire
x-tray, xandor, xampus, xandrana, xandy, xanta, xara, xena, xera, xisco, xylo
yzma, yoda, yaki, yahoo, yogi, yeti, yenga, yumi, yello, yamana, yeska
zeus, zombie, zara, zoe/y, ziggy, zeke, zelda, zero, zola, zane, zorro, zia, zazu, zip/per, zella, zsa zsa, zadie, zoro, zorra, zephyr
Alright BBC ghosts and deaths, my observations
The obvious ones:
Jemina and the plague ghosts
The bubonic plague... Poor souls
Duel, gun wound to the abdomen (low-key wanna call it accident /foul) , Death presumably due to blood loss and getting hit in a vital organ. Not a nice death
Accident, I'm guessing a mixture of getting hit in the neck by that arrow and hitting the tree
Murdered , death due to being pushed out of the window, breaking everything
Murdered, burned at the stake
Natural, heart attack due to his lifestyle
Accidentally decapitated himself xD
Well we know he must have died during the war. Could have been due to old age (well advanced age) , over exhaustion, mustard gas. He has no visible injuries like for example Pat or Thomas. Perhaps and that's just a theory, he's not one to talk about feelings (yeah yeah Brits don't don't that) he could have taken his own life? Maybe he feared his secret was about to be revealed or perhaps William was killed?
So I'm going on a stretch but I say her evil sister poisoned her. She already received food poisoning by that nasty person so I wouldn't be surprised if she would have gone further. Also she threw up that one time when she got excited and some of the Ghosties fam are still haunted by how they died. (Fanny falling out of the window at 3am or well 7am thanks to the Captain, Rosie suffering anytime someone mentions fire, Thomas with the musketball)
Tbh I'm not sure if I missed out on his death.
I'm guessing anything from getting killed by wolves to poison berry's
@ailendolin tell me if I missed out on something
Since I've been talking about female Tim all week a few extra genderbent batboys thoughts:
f!alfred is named Victoria Pennyworth & looked like a pin up girl in her youth but is now, bc she's a british housekeeper, plump & rosie cheeked with the biggest rack in the house
f!jason has the second largest rack in the house. f!bruce comes in third. barbara is fourth.
f!dick is named Fanny and, in the grand tradition of gymnists everywhere, is 5 foot even with no tits to speak of
366 cc rosnali?
366. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” / 26. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”
Olivia smiled warmly as he watched Denali eat while they were out for lunch. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” he asked with a giggle and a knowing smirk.
Denali looked up, his face momentarily going warm. He cleared his throat before answering. “I had a great time last night, I loved getting to see everyone and live my New York fantasy.”
“Getting to see someone in particular, though? Someone you went home with, perhaps?”
He cursed under his breath. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.” It wasn’t that he had any sort of shame or regret for the way his night ended, he simply didn’t want it to become ‘a thing’, and if word got out, that would be putting it lightly. But this was just Olivia, he knew he could trust him. “Okay, yeah, Rosé and I went back to my hotel.”
Olivia leaned in with a broad grin. “Well? Spare no detail.”
“Oh, the fans are gonna eat this shit up,” Rosé flashed a toothy grin as he added the video clip of the two of them to his story. “It’s gonna be the ultimate Rosnali revival.”
Denali laughed as he sipped his drink. “The ultimate Rosnali revival would be if we actually hooked up,” he corrected.
He shrugged as he slid his phone back into his fanny pack, as the short skirt he had on left no room for pockets. “I mean, we could. There’s nothing stopping us this time.”
“He’ll pick up his own piece to take home and kick out in the morning, don’t worry, baby,” he assured. “C’mon, let me end your night on a better note than jacking off alone or letting some race chaser try to pick you up.”
“You don’t have to convince me, Rosie,” he assured, and once they’d ordered an Uber and it arrived, they made their getaway back to Denali’s hotel room. And once they were behind closed doors, there was no more holding back. They were all over each other, stumbling through the room towards the bed as they made out, hands roaming each other’s bodies.
Rosé pushed Denali down onto the bed, eyeing him hungrily. “Take it off,” he breathed out, gesturing to the other queen’s outfit.
The tone caught him off guard and he arched his brow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” This time, his voice was darker, tone more firm, as if her were daring Denali to do anything other than follow the command.
Denali’s eyes went wide with arousal. He nodded as he scrambled out of his clothes, then reached into the bedside drawer to grab a bottle of lube and condom and tossed them to Rosé.
“Always so prepared,” he cooed as he undressed. He then positioned himself on top of Denali, bracketing him between his arms until he started to prep him with two lubed up fingers. Once he deemed him ready, he stopped, tearing the condom open and rolling it down his length before easing into him. “Fuck…”
Denali couldn’t help but moan out instantly, his head pressing back into the pillows and his body arching up. As Rosé steadily built up to a hard and fast thrusting pace, he rocked and writhed in tandem, begging for more and urging him on at every opportunity.
When Rosé felt his orgasm approaching, he wrapped a hand around Denali’s cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts until they came at the same time. He then eased out, tossing the tied-off condom in the garbage before laying down and taking him into his arms. “Hey.”
Denali smiled softly, curling right up to him. “Hey.”
“You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”
He scoffed and shoved him playfully. “Bitch, if I wake up and you’re not here, I’m never speaking to you again.”
Rosé laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
I’d come straight from Labour in Brighton, so the contrast in energy was intense. At least Corbyn gave conference a crazy velocity and you could amuse yourself buying Jezza merch in the party shop. This week the left was routed and resentful, yet the Starmerites (if such exist) seemed terrified of saying anything at all. Conference 2021 could be summed up in Anneliese Dodds’s worried perma-frown.
At a meeting on winning back the red wall, Yvette Cooper said Labour voters would return only if the party said “Tory cost of living crisis” often enough. When questions were allowed, arms flew up, mainly despairing northeast delegates who’d lost MPs in 2019, then councillors in May. They asked about patriotism, social conservatism and immigration. One man said the reason Labour represents 75 per cent of city seats but only 30 per cent of towns was because, with expanded higher education, most young voters leave for urban universities and never return.
No one had any answers, except adopting a Boris-style optimism. Although it was unclear what Labour had to be optimistic about.
Then there was the unedifying spectacle of senior Labour figures showing their ignorance about female reproductive organs. You might imagine that since the MP Rosie Duffield was absent from conference over a bitter row about whether saying “only women have a cervix” is bigotry, the shadow cabinet might have rehearsed an answer.
Instead, David Lammy accused women of being “dinosaurs” for “hoarding rights” from trans people, then when asked to clarify these statements was outraged. In a round of morning interviews yesterday he grew ever more intemperate. He told Radio 5 that “one in four trans people commit suicide” (a grave figure, if it were true), told LBC that trans women have cervixes (citation needed) before eventually losing his temper with Nick Robinson on Radio 4’s Today.
Lammy argues that in real life no one ever mentions gender, which has rather surprised and infuriated his own Tottenham constituency party which has passed four gender-critical motions: one opposed to gender self-ID and three supporting women’s freedom of speech.
Or perhaps Lammy could consult his wife, the hugely talented artist Nicola Green. Years ago when she dated a friend of mine, she employed one particular unique talent for charity fundraising. My husband and I chanced upon them running a stall on London’s South Bank where she offered to “fanny fart for a fiver”. I paid up gladly and Green began with a kind of inner bellows warm-up action before producing an impressive sound. I bet she knows what a cervix is.
Seven Minutes in Heaven
Author’s Note: Well hello my friends! Since hitting 1000 Followers in July (WHAT?! STILL UNBELIEVABLE!!!) I’ve been working on the requests sent in by my amazing troop of readers! This is another one of those stories which I’m pleased to share.
As always, help my unending need for validation but re-blogging or liking the story! Also, you can send asks, make your own request, follow me, or be added to my tag-list!
Last, @sammy-jo1977 is my beta... and my ride or die home girl! Thanks lady!
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader, appearances from most of the Avengers
Summary/ Request: @queenofmischief asked for a story where “Loki and you guys are friends growing up and you realize you like him and try to hide it but somehow at a party or something or another, maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven is involved, it comes out and really hot smut ensues?”
I used some of the ideas you gave me, dear reader, but made it a little more mature, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Lots of 80′s references... music, movies, clothes, etc. References of smut, heavy petting and kissing
"But, like, I really don't want to go." Your cellphone, pinned between your ear and shoulder, pushed your earring into the tender flesh behind your lobe. It probably didn't help that the jewelry in question was a pair of huge hoops, fluorescent in color and hard plastic.
You heard Wanda sigh, "Yea… I know. It's just, we all are… and you know it'll be worse if you don't show up."
"I really hate it." Using a sing-song voice didn't change the feelings behind your words. Going up to the main floor of The Avengers Tower for a theme party was not a thrilling idea.
"I know you do-", pulling open the door between your room and hers, you palmed your phone, frowning at your friend, "-But you look great!"
"Radical… or wicked… or tubular would be more 80's appropriate." Still, her compliment made you smile. It really was a great outfit, totally encapsulating the MTV generation's vibe, complete with hot lime colored leg warmers.
Your cropped REO Speedwagon t-shirt was cut off at the neck, dripping low enough to expose one whole shoulder, and a wide stripe of the magenta colored tank top underneath. Having tucked the camisole into your acid washed denim micro miniskirt, you finished the ensemble with a pair of black pumps, and the obligatory scrunchie of cheap yellow satin. It pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail.
For makeup you'd painted your eye-shadow on, bright turquoise with pink under your brows. Lipstick in a shimmery rosy hue brought extra attention to your lips. And you stored your cell phone, lip gloss and keys in your iridescent fanny pack.
Wanda couldn't help giggling at the sight of you and your collection of clashing colors. For her look tonight she'd dawned a pair of skin tight leggings, an over-sized button down shirt with a stretchy black belt that was about four inches wide. Ballet flats, teased out hair and stark makeup had Wanda looking like a video vixen. It was impressive.
"See, you went sexy… and I went silly." Pouting now, you flopped onto your bed, "Can I just not?"
Sitting down next to you, patting your knee, "You don’t look silly, but you do look like you could be a hair band groupie! That’s sexy!”
Shrugging your shoulders, unconvinced, Wanda added, “Besides, tonight… It may be fun. And, worse case? You get blitzed like a teenager on prom night."
"No… that's not the worst case. Worst case? He's there."
Sighing, Wanda shook her head, "He does still rub you the wrong way, huh? And, yes, he may be there… but-" standing, taking you with her, "-it would be a shame to waste all your wicked cool work!"
Hearing her use the dated vernacular made you grin. She was right. Tonight could be a blast, if you were able to get out of your head.
Jumping off the bed, unsettling one of those fashionable leg warmers, you hugged your friend tightly. You could do this. You wouldn't be alone. And if Loki was there, he'd just have to get over it. You weren't going to pay him any attention.
"Mr. Loki… can we please go? We're already stupid late."
Bending to straighten his red suspenders, Loki smirked at himself, "Greed is good."
Sighing, exasperated and edging into anger, Peter pulled open the front door, "I don't know what that means, but you look… greasy."
"Like I could steal your company in a corporate take over? Maybe steal your woman too", Loki questioned, excited at the idea.
Crossing his arms over the red puffy vest he had bought specifically for tonight, Peter grunted, "Uh… I… I guess. I meant more like one of the assholes in Wolf of Wall Street."
God, you had better be there tonight. Loki was putting a lot of hope on Stark’s little shindig and he wanted to make sure that all of the little details were absolutely perfect, giving him every advantage. Standing now, slicking back his long dark hair, "That, my young spider friend, is exactly what I am going for… Evil 80′s CEO."
Loki heard the frustration in the young man’s voice. Someday he would understand, Loki thought, turning to the youthful Avenger beside him, "You certainly make a dashing Marty McFly, Peter. Truly."
"Aw! Really, Mr. Loki? Ya mean it?" That made the Spider Boy preen, popping his collar, and standing a little straighter.
"I do! Now-" flashing a rakish smile to his reflection as he passed, "-let's get upstairs and see how everyone else is doing!"
Everyone else was ready to party. The last mission, a particularly difficult one, involved Hydra agents banging it out against our heroes along the rough terrain of the polar ice cap. Draining the physical and emotional resources of everyone, including you and Loki, Tony had planned a little party to kick off a period of rest and relaxation.
As soon as the elevator opened you knew it was going to be an insane night. Everything was brightly lit. Paper streamers were strung up haphazardly along the walls and ceiling. Big plastic buckets of chips and cheese curls were put out on the counter along with a huge punch bowl that reeked of rum and sugary fruit juice. On the floor in the kitchenette was a garbage can, freezing, full of ice, only the keg tap visible. A stack of red plastic cups was at the ready.
Someone had ordered pizza. Well, dozens of pizzas. The boxes were piled along the table already crammed with pretzel bags and Doritos.
Steve was being instructed on the basics of Beer Pong and, you decided, definitely being hustled by Sam. Bucky looked on with curiosity, quietly sneaking closer to the chips and dip, hoping no one would notice. Rhodey was watching them both through the reflective lenses of his aviator shades, doing a great job of looking like a Top Gun cadet, including the tight jeans and broken-in bomber jacket. Grinning as he drank down a bottle of beer, Rhodes shouted, "Hey Stank! Is all of this really necessary?"
"Don't come for me Rhodey!" Wearing a pair of neon leopard spotted knit pants, a green polo shirt and white sneakers, Tony was clutching a glass bowl filled with little slips of paper to his chest. No one had managed to figure out what they were or why he held them. Drinking two beers from his plastic, can holding helmet, Tony would answer only with a slightly slurred, "It's my trashy 80′s party and I do what I want!"
And Tony had thought of everything. Sounding like a mixed tape pulled from the radio, the tunes didn't let up! Ratt, Foreigner, Cindi Lauper, Madonna and Tom Petty all took turns blasting through the room. So many hits from the past pumped through the sound system, getting people on their feet and keeping them there. You were swinging and swaying along, having a blast, but when Bon Jovi hit the group of Intergalactic Warriors went wild.
Clint, rocking a mullet wig and a vest with no shirt, jumped onto a table making the motions of an air guitar champion. Singing into a beer bottle like it was his microphone, "Whoooooaaaa we're halfway there…"
Guffawing, you hid behind your Bud Light filled cup, already red cheeked from the non-stop laughing and alcohol in your system. At some point you had given up Wanda to Vision in a varsity jacket, doing his best jerk-off jock impression, and not quite pulling it off. It wasn't his fault that he was too polite to put people down in the way of Eighties movie bad guys.
Alone, feeling flushed, but happy, you needed a break and some quiet. Flinging yourself onto the soft sofa, watching the frat house style antics unfold all around, you couldn’t help laughing. Tony always found a way to knock the group out of their post mission funk. Sometimes that meant week long Caribbean vacations and sometimes that meant dressing up in retro attire and scream singing with a cold beer in your hands. Either way, it seemed to bring everyone closer together, and the pictures were certainly worth framing.
The couch dipped as someone joined you. Swiveling, not quite drunk but not quite sober, you couldn’t help the groan that left you. “Oh. It’s you.”
Not exactly the response Loki wanted, he was just grateful that you spoke to him at all. Lately you seemed to flee any room he entered, a hurt and heavy sigh escaping you before you'd make your exit, never looking back. Loki couldn't understand why.
After all, it had been two months since that night. The one where he'd stumbled on you, glowing blue in the light of the television set, alone and in the darkness. You asked him to join you, he had accepted.
The movie was called "Say Anything" and Loki had to admit, as far as romance on film went, this story was very moving. But that was an unexpected bonus to being so near to you. Before the credits rolled, you had burrowed against him, snuggled under his arm with your head on his chest.
Stroking your hair, Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, thoughtlessly, naturally. Pushing away, looking up at him through hooded lashes, "You… you kissed me?"
Words failed the silver tongued devil, something he still pondered all these weeks later, so a nod was all you got for a response. Kneeling, your sleep shirt riding over your thighs, Loki watched your small hand rising to cup his cheek. Feeling your lips against his own was the beginning of the best night of his life.
And then, nothing. It was like a switch had been thrown and no matter how many ways he tried to reach out for you, Loki wasn't able to connect. Not like that night.
So, he was going against his nature tonight. Joining the group, drinking a bit of his brother's mead, wearing a dated but pristine business suit. All done in the vain hope that something would shift in his favor.
He had already lost too many nights to memories of you. Soft, full skin under his broad palms. The tiny moan you exhaled when Loki’s tongue met your own. How your wet, willing body accepted him, without question or stipulation. And in the afterglow, when your head rested in the crook of his neck and your cherry cola scented breath circled him, you let Loki hold you close.
But he buried it all. Tonight he was the embodiment of all things slick. Nothing could stick to him; not when he had a goal in mind and this much gel in his hair. Loki Odinson would be taking you home tonight, come hell or high water.
Wolfish, Loki’s grin was wicked, “Yes. Your dream has come true.” Sitting back, he crossed his designer suit covered knee at the ankle, exposing socks with little golfers on them. He let his right arm rest along the back of the sofa, not around you… not yet, but inching closer.
“What is that cologne you’re wearing?”
“Don’t you like it? I’m told Drakkar Noir was quite the scent of the 80′s. I did my research.”
Twisting, you looked him over, impressed despite yourself. The suit was totally of its time. Black, pinstriped and you were sure the jacket that came with it was draped somewhere safe.
His shirt was shiny but soft and bright, blinding white. Suspenders of red matched the tie that draped down the center of his chest. With his hair combed straight back and held in place with some kind of product, Loki looked like he was capable of eating a six course lunch at Sardi’s, complete with dirty martinis, then jetting back to the office in time to defraud a corporate spending account. The kind of executive that blackmails a co-worker with pictures of a mistress. The kind of douche bag that tries to take over a rec center to build a mall. In short, an avarice little asshole. So, why was it so hot?
“It’s… overpowering.”, boy, was that an understatement. Loki’s whole aesthetic was overpowering right now. And, was he moving closer?
His bent knee brushed against your own as he leaned near enough to be heard at a whisper, “You look adorable, you know that?”
Scrunching into the corner of the couch, eyeing him suspiciously, “Oh? Really?”
“Really.”, his hand brushed over your exposed shoulder, making you jump at his touch.
Uh uh. No way. You would not be so easy to seduce this time around. Even if those wide hands sent goosebumps growing all over your body, Loki would not charm his way into your panties again. Not like last time.
It had been spontaneous. Genuine, at least for you. And in the moment, it felt like Loki had given you a little piece of himself, a tenderness that no one else ever saw in the far flung Frost Giant.
Maybe that's why Clint's words hurt so much. He had told you so casually, holding up a spoonful of Cheerios, "Loki said his last girl was a drag. Basic bitch? Is that what the kids say?"
Thinking about it now made your heart hurt. You had given yourself to someone who thought you were beneath him. Loki couldn't want you. You would never be good enough.
But that night haunted you. His soulful kisses that stole your breath. The drag of Loki’s hands over the swell of your bottom as you straddled his hips. His solid chest under your own hands, dark head curved against the couch cushion, but those burning eyes never leaving your face.
“I thought you said I was plain. Simple. Boring.”
Leveling his own words back at him made Loki straighten in his seat. How could you think that? Unbalanced, stammering, “Uh… I… I’d never…”
“Never expected me to find out? I believe that. And, let me tell you this-” Pushing yourself up with the help of the couch’s arm, you rose on unsteady legs, “-I’m not nearly drunk enough to fall into your arms again.” Spinning away, you made a dash towards the people in the kitchen, without looking back.
Watching you go, Loki could do nothing but stare after your retreating form, flummoxed.
“That was… painful.”
He knew that voice well enough, frustrated, confused and unfit for company, “Go away, Tony.”
“I don’t think I will. In fact-” sitting down in your empty spot, patting Loki’s knee, “-I’m going to make myself comfortable. Now, tell Uncle Tony all about it.”
Rolling his eyes, unable to find you in the crowd, Loki risked a sideways glance at his replacement companion. Was he really going to indulge in this? Tell his almost friend about you… about your one night together? Loki raked his hands through the pomade in his hair, growling low, “If you breathe a word of it Tony, I’ll-”
Lowering his wrap around sunglasses, peering at Loki, Tony smiled, “Your secret is safe with me.”
Thinking less and less about Loki as the night went on should have been a relief but it seemed like the scent of him followed you everywhere. Unable to get free of him, you busied yourself with drinks, dancing, and munching like you were a kid again. Anything to keep your mind from wandering.
It's not like the party was boring. Not at all! There was plenty to distract you and you let it. Natasha made you her partner for beer pong and somehow you successfully won against Rhodey and Sam.
Next, Wanda needed you, which is how you wound up sitting on the bathroom sink listening to her go on about Vision in that wistful, loving way that made your own heart ache. Being a little drunk, you had to fight the urge to cry because you were lonely and hurting.
“I saw you talking to Loki… what was that about?” She was reapplying ruby red lipstick, studying herself in the mirror, not looking directly at you.
Wanda's voice cut through your self doubt spiral though, something you were thankful for, and with a casual tone you countered, “He was trying to get something started, I think.”
Eyebrows lifting, Wanda’s interested piqued, “Really? Loki was hitting on you?”
“Yea… I mean, I think so. Was coming on awfully strong too. But… he’s been a jerk, right?”
Wanda cleaned up her eye make-up taking a minute, after washing her hands she looked at you, “I mean, he is here.”
“So, you know he’s not really a joiner. More of a lone wolf. In fact, I think this may be the first of these little parties he’s come to. Maybe he’s changed… grown a bit? And, honestly, you never asked him about-”
Hopping off the counter, cutting her off, more than a little huffy at her good sense, “No, I didn’t and I don’t plan to. Loki thinks I’m a bore? Too basic for him? Fine. I have better things to do with my time.”
Laying her hand on your shoulder, Wanda stopped you, eyeing you in the mirror once more, “I know his words hurt… but you’re going to have to clear the air eventually. Especially if we’re all going to work together.”
Shrugging, you offered your friend a small smile. There was truth in her sentiment, even if your slightly drunken brain rebelled against hearing it, “Yea, you're right… plus-” looking around the small washroom, just to make sure no one could hear the pair of you, “- he looks really hot tonight!”
Giggling, Wanda hugged you close, “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yea he does!”
The pair of you were still laughing together, standing at the back of the crowd as Tony turned down the music, announcing, “Gather round children, Uncle Tony needs your attention!” There were a few groans, mostly from the beer pong table, as apparently Bucky was unhappy about forfeiting his winning match. Everyone else, in all their high haired glory, were congregating near their host, curious and more than a little drunk.
“Tony, what the hell, man? You killed the tunes!”, Clint shouted, spilling Bud Light foam as he joined the tightening circle.
“Patience, my drunk friend. You all remember this?” From the table nearby, Tony picked up his glass bowl, triumphant, “Our Destiny!”
Pepper, sighing with a smile, “So dramatic!”
Shaking the bowl in her direction Tony smirked, “Ok smarty, then you pick first. Go on… Pick!”
There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled Avengers. Rolling her eyes, Pepper reached in, grabbing the first slip her fingers found. Pulling it free, she grinned, eyeing Tony, “It says ‘Loki’...”
Hearing his name, Loki snapped his head up, surprise registering on his face, “Excuse me?”
Holding it up for his examination, Pepper waved the slip under the regal nose of the junior Odinson, “See… your name.”
“Yes, but why?”
Butting in, Tony snatched the scrap from the hand of his lovely fiance, practically dancing with glee. Turning to Loki, “Now you, Gordon Gecko, pull a slip.”
Aware of all eyes locked on him, Loki reached into the jar, digging around a little more than necessary. Finally satisfied, the thin paper pinched between his fingers, Loki opened the folded note. When his fierce gaze met yours, you knew without a doubt. It was your name he had grabbed.
Throwing a thick arm across Loki’s broad shoulders, Tony hugged him close, “Well? What’s it say?”
It all made sense in that moment. The tacky costumes, flat beer and endless music. A drunken moment of clarity had descended. Tony, waving his arms, eating up the crowd’s reactions, heads turning to gauge your response. Swallowing hard, your hearing failing you, you just faked a smile.
You and Loki were going into the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven.
Only there was no way you were going to do that. Not after what he’d said. Not after your one night together, right? But you felt a gentle hand pushing your forward, into the center of your circle of friends and for some reason, your feet followed.
Refusing didn't enter your mind. With everyone ogling you and Loki, making a scene would only cause more speculation, something you weren't keen to do. Instead, you stepped next to Tony, outwardly eager to play along.
You just shouldn't have dared to look at your proposed make out partner. Laser focused, Loki’s lusty look hadn’t wavered. No, the light in those thundering blue eyes was carnal, darker than you had ever seen, matching your own. Against your better judgement, you wanted Loki, too.
Whatever Tony was saying was a blur, merely sounds, because you were utterly stunned by the nearness of Loki. The roaring laughs of the rest of the group were drowned out by your pounding heart. A door opened to a dim room, the pantry maybe? You didn’t know and in that moment you didn’t really care.
With a small smile, Loki ducked into the cupboard, lacing his fingers with yours, offering a bit of his strength. Dragging you inside, your body pinned between a shelf of snacks and the hard body of your frenemy, a whimper of want passed your lips. Loki still smelled so good and now he was so close.
“Have fun you two!”, Tony’s words were accompanied by the door shutting you and Loki inside, in the dark. Surrounded by silence, Loki’s sharp pants were the only sound louder than your racing pulse, which was saying something.
Afraid to move, afraid of spooking you, Loki struggled to search your stare in the low light. He had already experienced your angry dismissal of his attention tonight. It wasn't something he wanted to relive, not when you were so close with sweet and speedy breath, your chest brushing against his own at each exhale.
Lifting a hand, grazing over your uncovered shoulder, Loki's touch was electric. You moved towards it, towards him, needing more of his energy. Craving it.
Bold in the dark, you grabbed at Loki’s suspenders, tugging him closer. Rising on your toes, covering some of the distance between your mouth and his, you pressed a hot kiss to those soft, pink lips. Under your fluttering fingers Loki shivered, "Darling-"
"Shut up. I… I don't care."
"But I never…"
"I told you. I don't care. Now kiss me like you mean it, because we only have about six more minutes!"
Not needing any more encouragement, Loki found the flare of your hips in the shadows, molding your curves to the rigid planes of his body. Desperate, needy, you felt his tongue move against your own. Want, plain and simple, led your own fingers to the collar of Loki’s starched shirt and the tangle of his raven hair.
Fisting it, tugging against those luscious locks, you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the tall God sharing your cupboard. Whining, his name on your lips, you drew Loki tight enough that the press of your breasts was edging towards pain. Demanding, true to your word, with every pass of Loki’s magical mouth over your own the last few weeks were forgotten.
Hungry for more, Loki roughly squeezed the flesh of your ass, grinding you against his wool blend covered crotch. Stuttering, his arousal was so stiff, for a minute Loki worried about making a mess. But that feeling was replaced with unbridled ecstasy when your lips found the tender skin below his ear.
A nip, enough to make Loki hiss, was soon soothed by your sucking on the same spot. Resting your butt on the nearest shelf, you didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to reach the soft, sweet sections of Loki where you longed to lavish attention. He took advantage of your new position by sliding a free hand along the swell of your separated thighs.
“I just need to feel you, dove. I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.” It was a husky whisper, directly into your ear, and it sent an arc of icy fire to your core. When his long fingers skimmed over the silky slick of your panties you moaned in unison, bucking into Loki’s touch, lost in the moment.
Stepping between your legs, Loki took one of your hands into each of his own, pinning you wide open against the boxes of cereal and granola bars that lined the pantry walls. Devouring you slowly, Loki kissed along the column of muscles at your throat, across the exposed line of your clavicle. You could do little more than take his delicious torment as more and more of your sweat dappled skin was serviced by his silver tongue.
“Yes… Loki…”, tumbling out of you, just like the night when you first came together, you crooned his name in delight. Breathless, boneless and broken with need.
CLICK! The sound made you both freeze. Snapping swiftly, Loki’s head swung towards the door where the bright light and noisy crowd of the party was intruding into your private pantry.
“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! What do we have here?” Swinging into the tight space, Tony’s shrewd look took in the scene in seconds, “What were you two doing in here? It was a very quiet seven minutes!”
Straightening to standing, Loki stood, blocking you from sight as you readjusted your clothes. Smoothing down his tangled strands, sarcasm dripping, “Talking. Very quietly.”
When he was sure you were decent, Loki offered you his hand, and blinking you stepped back into the wild and raucous party still in full swing. Tony, flashing a knowing grin your way, nodded, “I hope you didn’t smush the chips! We still need those!”
Giggling, you locked onto Loki’s arm, letting him lead you towards the keg and away from the shouted questions of your friends. You knew there was no mystery about what happened in those seven minutes. Hair mused, makeup smudged, lips swollen and shirts twisted, the pair of you were walking neon signs for getting to third base.
Silently Loki poured you a beer, taking a small glass of Asgardian mead for himself, before raising his glass your way. Returning his gesture, you downed the frothy ale fast, feeling a little parched after your spit swapping time in the hall closet. Boring into you, his eyes followed each of your movements, searching for a sign of your feelings.
Dropping your empty cup on the counter, you turned and jumped onto the marble ledge, feet dangling. “Loki?”
Placing his own glass down gently, Loki took his position between your bent knees, looking down at your darling face, “Yes?”
“Did you say those things? That I was… boring? Basic?”
Shaking his dark waves no, Loki bit into his bottom lip, “Never. What I said was, my last girl, ages ago, was those things… but my new lady-” tracing along your jaw, tipping your chin his way, “-she is everything I could ever want.”
“Am I… am I your new lady, then?”
With a fierce flicker of fire in his eyes, Loki nodded yes this time, “Absolutely.”
Leaning into him, arms around his neck, you tugged him down to meet your waiting lips. “Good. Good to know. Because I think I’m going to watch a movie tonight.”
“Really? I recall really enjoying the last one.”
“Hmm… me too.” Sliding off the counter, ducking under Loki’s long arms, you turned back to face him, “My room… say, an hour?”
Snapping his suspenders, smirking, “I’ll be there.” Watching you skip away made Loki’s pulse pound in anticipation. Pouring himself another glass of clear liquor, he chuckled, amazed at the change seven minutes had created.
“Ah! Yes, many thanks Tony.”
Leaning against the counter, Tony knocked into Loki’s shoulder, “You’re cute together, Rock of Ages, but don’t make me regret helping you tonight! Treat her right.”
“Of course. I... truly, thank you.”, sincerity seeped from Loki at the favor from Tony.
“No worries! No worries!” Waving away any additional gratitude, Tony looked over the group of half cocked, and totally cocked heroes before him, “Of course the real bitch was getting Pepper to pull your name from the bowl…”
My Marvelous Minxes tag-list: @queenofmischief @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco
Headcanons for the Ghosts watching Hamilton?
okay so as a tired australian everything i have learnt about hamilton has been against my will, but i'll do my best (shoutout to wikipedia)
alison: it's mike's latest obsession, although she thinks it's pretty cool too- she can't quite figure out how she feels about the glorification of a bunch of old racist white dudes, but neither can anyone else let's be honest
thomas: after les mis thomas was excited to try another musical and once his ear gets attuned he really gets into the soundtrack as hip hop poetry, but unfortunately one too many people get shot and it really is just too soon for thomas- he's so enraged on phillip's behalf at the end of Stay Alive (Reprise) that he storms to the back of the room and resolved to face the opposite wall out of respect, but he's too invested in the plot to stop paying attention entirely. let's just say hamilton's fate doesn't go down well either
robin: he wasn't that interested to start with, and it's safe to say by the end he cares even less- musicals aren't really robin's thing, and given his simple attitude to life, all of the politics and allegiance changing of Hamilton just seem pointless and unnecessary to him
julian: julian is really Not a fan of americans, especially in politics, so he's not exactly enthusiastic, but he changes his tune pretty quick and shushes thomas everytime he gasps because "some of us are trying to watch the production!"
mary: she likes the ladies's dresses, although the speed rapping leaves her a bit lost. mary takes Eliza under her wing, "that Hamilton fellow doesn't deserve her- she be fair and he be but sallow swine, i say"
mike: mike spent a week being absolutely obsessed with hamilton and definitely learnt the entire soundtrack off by heart
kitty: she joins mary in the Eliza Protection Squad, and joins fanny in appreciating "all the handsome men in their breeches!"
humphrey: with his head on the couch between thomas and the captain and his body god knows where, humphrey finds it rather interesting, especially considering his own experience with politics and lack of familiarity with american history (being a tudor ghost and all), but it's rather hard to concentrate when you have thomas sob-gasping on one side and the captain critiquing Lafayette's military tactics on the other
fanny: like julian, fanny's always found americans "rather distasteful", but she does enjoy men in breeches and surprisingly, the rap thing really works for her- she's singing quietly to herself for the next week. My Shot sounds really bizarre in her posh English accent.
the captain: Hamilton really isn't the captain's cup off tea- he gets excited at the mention of the Battle of Yorktown and the various duels, but "frankly, i don't think they spent enough time getting into the nitty-gritty- *insert long winded and probably highly educational lecture regarding how experience with duelling pistols influenced military performances during 18th century combat*"
pat: while he was alive, pat went through a phase where he got into all things american so the whole premise of Hamilton evokes a nice bit of nostalgia for him- he gets surprisingly invested and the other ghosts see him overtaking thomas in the "yelling things at the tv screen" department
BONUS- the plague ghosts: the plague ghosts end up watching it by proxy after one of the plumbers working in the basement insists on playing the cast recording to make the job less boring, and the plague ghosts go nuts for it. they even start up their own little singing group, but between jemima throwing everyone off with Ring-A Ring-A Rosie and the arguments over who gets to take the lead, it doesn't last long
hope this was alright- keep em coming everyone!
This is the fic I wrote for the @reddiezine, Our Memories, which you can still buy. Check it out! ♡
As soon as Eddie's knee hit the floor, the speech he'd planned in his head was gone. With hands shaking and heart beating rapidly, he looked up into Richie's eyes and his brain short-circuited, words leaving him and disappearing through the air too fast for him to catch.
"Richie," was the first word he managed to get out, somehow the only word he could think of. "My Richie."
He didn't know why he was nervous, because this was Richie. His love, his anchor, his favorite person on the planet. Yet, one look at him and Eddie's brain stopped working.
"What's happening?" Richie asked, putting down his cutlery, a half-eaten meatball still stuck to the fork. He sounded as though he was in disbelief, but his wide-eyed look told Eddie that, despite asking, Richie knew exactly what was happening.
Eddie was already tearing up, and within his chest, his heart was hammering for dear life. His eyes took in the entirety of the man he loved; Richie was all dressed up for their date in his nicest Hawaiian shirt, which was tucked into a pair of dress pants held up by a belt. The same belt that Eddie had unbuckled more times than he could count.
Then something caught Eddie's attention: a tiny red stain camouflaged by the flowery pattern of Richie's shirt. Tomato sauce from their dinner.
As fast as the previous words had disappeared, new words were forming in Eddie's mind. The words of a memory. The memory of a thirteen-year old boy with bloodstains on his pink Hawaiian shirt. A memory from childhood.
"Do you remember," Eddie croaked out, tears swimming in his vision, "when we were kids and you wanted to prove you were the fastest runner, and you ran into a pole?"
A wet chuckle escaped Richie as he finally put down his fork, dinner forgotten. "Yeah."
And so did Eddie, clear as day, as if it had happened only five minutes ago. One of the most important moments of his life.
"Well," Eddie looked into Richie's eyes, "that was the day I realized I was in love with you."
And then the images of that day were flashing back, like an old videotape starting to roll.
"I can outrun any of you assholes," Richie said, buck-toothed and rosy-cheeked at the age of thirteen, his sparkling blue eyes magnified by the old glasses he used to wear. Glasses that had been broken over and over and were, at that point, barely held together with tape.
Beverly scoffed. "Your lungs are as ruined as mine from all the cigarettes, Trashmouth."
"Y-yeah," Bill added. "You don't stand a chuh-chance. N-not against Eddie at least."
Eddie had a hard time keeping in his snickers. It was a known fact that Eddie was the fastest runner out of their little group. Richie looked over at him, eyes narrowed, and the challenge was loud and clear.
"First one to the park benches wins."
Richie had barely gotten the words out before he was sprinting, untied sneakers echoing down the street with each step.
"Shit," Eddie muttered before chasing after. It took some time to pick up his speed, but he soon caught up, and he could see the distance between him and Richie decrease. Already he could tell he would win this.
Then Richie stumbled, gangly legs struggling to regain his balance. Without thinking, Eddie reached out automatically in case Richie ended up plummeting to the ground. Somehow Eddie managed to run even faster to get to him, as if his own life depended on it. In the end Richie managed to stay up, but the stumble had slowed him down significantly, leaving Eddie to rush past without problem.
In his peripheral he saw Richie's head turn abruptly, and that was when the accident happened. Richie lost his focus, not looking where he was going and not even a second later, Eddie heard a harsh "ow!" rip into his heart. Immediately, his heels dug into the ground in an instant stop, the asphalt burning under his feet.
"Fuck," he heard Richie whisper to himself, and he turned. Richie's nose was dripping red, his hands desperately trying to wipe it away. The pole he'd crashed into stood innocently to the side.
"Jesus, Rich," Eddie said as he stepped up to Richie's form crouched on the ground, already opening his fanny-pack. He sat down next to him, carefully pulling Richie's hands away. "Are you okay? Does it hurt? You're bleeding so much, you need to lean your head back."
"Ugh," Richie stretched out his arms behind him, gravelly asphalt crunching underneath his palms, and tilted his nose up towards the sky. Eddie squeezed the bridge of Richie's nose with two fingertips, and cleaned up the worst of the mess with some tissues.
"You take such good care of me, Spaghetti."
"Well, I guess someone has to as you clearly can't do it yourself."
A soft laugh escaped Richie as his eyes closed behind his somehow still intact glasses. Eddie helped to put paper up Richie's nose. "Leave it like that."
The loud footsteps of the others stopped in front of them.
"You okay, Rich?" Beverly put a comforting hand on Richie's shoulder.
Richie chuckled, his voice nasal from the paper clogging his nostrils. "Yeah, I'm great! You should see the other guy."
Silence settled for a moment, Beverly's brows raising in amusement. "The pole?"
In that moment, Eddie could not fathom what triggered the feeling that blossomed inside of him next. If it was the offended sound Richie made at Beverly's comment, or the way he was smiling, showing how he wasn't really offended at all. Perhaps it was just Richie in general.
Because suddenly Eddie's heart was beating faster, his breath hitching and face heating up, and it felt like his heart was about to burst. It was a feeling Eddie had felt before, and would feel again and again with Richie for the rest of his life. It was a feeling that Eddie had never understood. Not until it suddenly hit him, as he gazed at Richie laughing with paper up his nose.
Instantaneously, harshly, too much all at once. And in a revelation bigger than anything he'd ever experienced before, Eddie finally understood: he was hopelessly, completely in love with Richie Tozier.
It wasn't like a punch in the gut. It was more exhilarating than that. Both scary and exciting, like that feeling he got when jumping from the edge at the quarry. Scary at first, but then exciting in the free fall, landing in the safety of the water. Falling in love with Richie felt just like that.
Looking at Richie now, in his thirties, but the same person that Eddie had fallen in love with all those years ago, that feeling was still the same.
"I remember I was so scared," Eddie said softly. "But," a deep breath, "I mean, it was you."
"I knew I was safe because it was you."
He grabbed Richie's hands, kissing his knuckles. "And you didn't even do anything special to help me realize that. You were just being yourself, and I was so in love. And still am. I think I knew even back then that there was no one I wanted to be with more, no one else I wanted to marry. So…"
The ring box had been burning his skin ever since he placed it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and his hands were shaking as he finally opened it. Richie was crying.
"Richie Tozier," Eddie managed through his own tears, "love of my life, will you please make me the happiest man in the world, and marry me?"
Richie wiped at his eyes, the most beautiful of smiles dominating all his features and taking over his face completely, beautifully. "Eds," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "How gagged would you be if I said no?"
Eddie rolled his eyes, smiling. "You're not gonna say no."
If this had been about anything else, Richie probably would have reacted by gasping dramatically, breaking out into his southern belle voice and saying something like, "well then dahlin', I'm afraid you don't know me at all" before stomping off theatrically. But Richie only shook his head this time, seeming to not stand the idea of saying no to this question, even as a joke.
"You're right, I'm not gonna say no," Richie's hands framed Eddie's face gently. "Only an idiot would say no to a proposal from you."
Eddie giggled. "Oh, so you're saying you're not an idiot? 'Cause I might have to disagree."
"Hey, I'm trying to say yes to your proposal here."
"Well, say it then."
Richie's smile was blinding. "Fuck yes I'll marry you."
"I thought so." Eddie smiled, standing up so he could finally kiss Richie, his fiancé, the absolute love of his life.
Tag list: @annoyingtozier, @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher, @constantreaderfool, @violetreddie, @rainbow-reddie, @tinyarmedtrex, @gadotgal, @jesuschristsupruvestar, @queen-sock, @xandertheundead, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @daldaemian, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @purplepoisonedgem, @h0pehauntedmyw0rld, @reddiegaypanic
I'm not comfortable with using my "big" name when I age regress, could I get some cute feminine/gender neutral names? Either short or with cute nicknames?
under the cut :D
hshq task 053. connections!
𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒅 ─── below is a list of a few connection ideas for wendy, princess of luxembourg. some can be combined or just the basic idea of the connection can be used and we can make it our own, whatever you’d like!
heartbreaks of the past ( 00 / 01 )
given how wendy wears her heart on her sleeve and falls in love easily, she has been the subject of many a public heartbreak. it seems like each one became messier than the last and this last one was pretty messy. tears. arguments. the works. like all the rest the breakup was public and caught on camera for all to see and trended on twitter for a day in addition to an extra few days for each country involved. there were even some videos that had language translations and wendy did become a meme, something she isn’t thrilled about to this day.
* exes in general would be a wanted connection too! ( 00 / 04 )
“ don’t you dare ” ( 01 / 01 )
the person who convinced wendy not to publish an article about them. it could be a negative or positive thing with this. maybe they didn’t want their name attached to whatever situation it was or it’s possible wendy was so involved in getting the facts and details that she didn’t take a step back to see what it had become — or that publishing such an article would have ramifications not yet known to her. if it’s the latter then this could have been a pivotal point that saved her journalism career from being seen as lacking all credibility. how they went about convincing her can also be positive or negative.
scooby gang ( 00 / 04 )
she’s nosey. that’s not a secret when it comes to wendy and because of it she often gets herself in trouble, so why not add a few people who she drags along to help dig up some news or discover something they weren’t supposed to which of course means trouble for all involved. this can even extend to just a tight-knit group of friends who end up getting caught up in some of wendy’s curiosity.
childhood friends ( 00 / 01 )
someone she grew up with who witnessed all the good, bad and awkward. a country with close ties to luxembourg would be preferred for this. just a friendship that was in its prime during those early years when they would play pretend and wendy would often play reporter, even if it didn’t make any sense. play pretend fairies? sure, but she was a fairy reporter. they could have kept in touch throughout the years but time and space created a distance that being in the program has only now begun to mend.
ring around the rosie ( 00 / 01 )
as close to an arch nemesis as wendy is going to get, apart from the french, this is someone who knowingly sends her leads that go nowhere or distract when she is close to discovering something. their reasoning could be petty or it could be because wendy did something to them or maybe they have just never gotten along and clashed right from the beginning due to opposing personalities.
tape recorder ( 00 / 01 )
wendy’s tape recorder, she wouldn’t go anywhere without it . . . only she did. she left it on record somewhere and it picked up some interesting information that no one else was supposed to hear, but she has and the people and countries in question don’t know, for now. what happens if they find out she knows? what was it she wasn’t supposed to hear? did she just walk into something she shouldn’t have? this can go so many ways but ideally would be something to do with a country talking about maybe invading another or something along those lines.
𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ─── luca d’ansembourg. wren d’ansembourg. lara d’ansembourg. / 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 ─── louise de saxe-cobourg et gotha / 𝒆𝒙-𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 ─── fanni croÿ. / 𝒆𝒙𝒔 ─── ????
Early morning in a deserted neighbourhood wearing some unclassified style again
Punk rock girls changed life
What would punk rock be without the very strong women who have shaped, promoted and firmly anchored this music in the music scene?
Bettina Köster (Mania D and Malaria!)
Siouxsie and the Banshees
Lydia Lunch (Teenage Jesus and the Jerks)
Patricia Morrison (Bags, Gun Club, and The Sisters of Mercy)
Anja Huwe (Xmal Deutschland
Lisa Gerrard (Dead Can Dance
Linder Sterling (Ludus)
Ari Up (The Slits)
Viv Albertine (The Slits)
Cosey Fanni Tutti (Throbbing Gristle, Chris and Cosey)
Elizabeth Fraser (Cocteau Twins)
Anka Wolbert (Clan of Xymox)
Gillian Gilbert (New Order)
Rosie Garland (March Violets)
Rose McDowall (Strawberry Switchblade, Spell, Sorrow)
Dinah Cancer (45 Grave)
Jehnny Beth from Savages
Alli Gorman from Bootblacks
Zohra Atash from Azar Swan
Kennedy Ashlyn from SRSQ and Them Are Us Too
Jo Bevan from Desperate Journalist
Sarah Taylor of Youth Code
Jae Matthews from Boy Harsher
Mistina La Fave from The Prids
Nicola Kuperus from Adult.
Jehnny Beth from Savages
Shannon Funchess from Light Asylum
and many more!