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feyhunter78 · 2 years ago

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Hey it’s me El! Can I have another Aegon apprentice story where the reader is an apprentice Dressmaker for Helaena and the children (she has them with aemond in this) and aegon ruins a piece of clothing he likes so he complains a lot so to stop it Helaena refers him to the reader. Only he takes a liking to her and begins to ruin pieces of clothing he has to see her. She jests saying oh these are such clean cuts how did you do it? And he plays along saying oh how he got into a battle with a knife but with my targaryen genes I could dodge before it hit my skin! They playfully banter and build a friendship which goes into flirting and so forth. Not really sure on an ending so I’m leaving that to you on whether they fully get into the relationship

Hey El!!! So sorry this took me forever to get out!!!! I hope you like it!!! Also, I changed it from Aemond to Jacaerys bc they're the only Targcest I'll write, but no worries! I know it just slipped your mind <3

The Dressmaker's Apprentice HC

Before Princess Helaena discovered your work, you ran a small shop that was on the verge of closing. You refused to work with anything but the best of materials, preferring to take your time and make sure each garment was not only perfect, but comfortable in all situations.

This meant your prices were too high, and you never had enough time to fill bigger orders. Your main source of income was mending garments, your own, or others it didn’t matter, your hands flew over the damage and repaired it in mere seconds. It was an easy thing to do and required less creative effort.

After Princess Helaena discovered that your garments were the only ones her and Jacaerys’ children would wear without throwing a tantrum, she immediately plucked you from the streets of Fleabottom and had you declared her personal tailor.

You, obviously, were grateful for the opportunity and went out of your way to make sure the royal family was outfitted in your grandest creations, one of which Helaena had gifted to Aegon. He constantly complained that his tunics were itchy, or the collars choked him, and just like with her children, your work ceased Aegon’s whining.

Aegon is content for a time, then during one of his Silk Street escapades he tears the tunic. He bugs Helaena to sew it up, but that’s cut off by Jacaerys, who tells Aegon to ask a maid. He does so, but the stitching is wrong, it rubs against his skin, and soon he’s back complaining to Helaena.

Helaena directs him to you, and you hold your hand out for the ripped tunic, expertly plucking out the stitches and quickly stitching the tear up with silk thread and handing it back to him. Aegon is amazed. You pay him no mind and go back to sewing a dress for Helaena, not even glancing up as Aegon leaves.

Soon you find the prince in your chambers on a weekly basis, each time with a new excuse. “I tripped while I was playing with my dear nieces and nephews.” You’ve never seen Aegon do more than hand toys to them, before pestering you with questions, and watching over your shoulder as you sketched new designs.

“I was helping the kitchen maids and ripped it while carrying four wine caskets.” Four caskets were three times the weight of Aegon himself.

“It was a dueling accident.” Was his latest excuse, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling him out.

“My prince, I’ve noticed these tears are quite clean, were you injured?” You asked, holding the obviously cut cloth up to the light.

“No, I am much too skilled to be injured in a mere practice round.”

“Then how did your tunic get cut? It sits so close to your skin.” You prodded, biting back a smile at the way Aegon scrambled to come up with an answer.

“I am a Targaryen prince; I was able to doge in the proper way to avoid injury. My tunic, though well-made, is not the same caliber as I.”

You put on an exaggerated pout and held the tunic close to our chest. “If my work is not to your standards, then I shall not embarrass you any further and continue to force you to wear it.”

Aegon shook his head and took your hand in his. “Your work is impeccable, Lady y/n, please do not mistake my foolishness for distaste. I must admit, I may have been altering the garments in an attempt to see you more often.”

You smiled at him and handed him the fixed tunic. “I had a feeling that was the case.”

His face tinted pink. “You did?”

You nodded and kissed his cheek. “If you wish to see me, all you must do is ask. But be warned, I will not be happy to see another one of my creations ruined.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhhaa, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshhhaa, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart

Slashthrough means I can't tag you

#aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon headcanons #apprentice!reader #mail from el #meg's writing #prince aegon #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #thanks for the request!#I hope you like it!!!#anon request

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mishkakagehishka · 3 years ago

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Not siding with enstars-gatekeeper, but I do see the point they're trying to make tbh. Nobody likes ooc stuff in any fandom community really and it is sad that like enstars-gatekeeper said that writers will get spam hate on their work for being ooc (it's more ao3 they were referring to I think as haven't seen it much on tumblr) and that's why fanfic writing is scary for some ig?

Again, I'm not siding with enstars-gatekeeper ofc but I agree with what they said about other communities acting that way towards writers but I certainly don't want Enstars to go down that way (honestly I thought there'd be more like gatekeeper with the likes of ES! not having an official English translation and how most lore apparently is shown in those stories, wouldn't know though as I've never read any).

What I never get though is why readers like that exist? Like isn't fanfiction supposed to be self indulgent and about having fun, not trying to basically extend what there is of canon content? Is it even possible to be 100% true to canon when writing considering fic writers aren't the creators of the source material?

I've been wanting to write fics myself but all the fandoms I'm in are like that and hate ooc fics. My main fixation is Enstars anyway and even tho I've been playing a while now, because I haven't read ES! I'm scared that I don't fully understand the characters now cause with the way some people,like gatekeeper, go on about it I'm under the impression that anything in ES!! isn't as accurate or I mean maybe as informative as ES! stories are and that I'd get a while new character basically if I read ES! (Its probably not that drastic but everyone is acting like it is so yeah)

Sorry if I'm venting by the way, seeing people like gatekeeper just annoy me as I wish no community had those "fans" 😅

Annoyance with OOC is understandable, but. Well. Exit the fic if it annoys you, you know? Out of all the (actually!) gross things that happens with fancreators, sending someone anon hate for writing smth OOC or writing a serial killer AU is just lame imo

That person said they wish more writers got anon hate for writing OOC, which is horrible, btw. Idc, if you wanna send someone abuse because they just misunderstood a character, that's loser behaviour. It's pathetic and it makes you a bully.

But you're right, as a fanfic writer, nothing I write will come close to canon-compliant. I can imitate canon and guesstimate what could be canon, but purely on account of "I don't work at happyele", everything I write today that "makes sense" could be contradicted by a future event. Hell, when this shuffle event comes out, they could reveal smth ab Shu that I never thought ab and that would render all my fics about him "OOC", that's just how it works with writing for ongoing media. It's why I don't like writing for ongoing media, but, alas, enstars is probably gonna outlive me at this point.

And yeah, fanfic is supposed to just be self-indulgent fun. Of course I believe certain topics should not be written about in fanfiction, especially if they're written in a romanticised way or a way meant to make certain immoral behaviour acceptable (as an example: the difference between writing yandere as horror vs as something romantic), but. Writing a character as OOC is just such a mild "misdemeanor". I don't like it, giving new fans and new writers grief over it.

I hope you'll feel comfortable to write in the future, I love seeing new writers and creators in general, especially considering the enstars fandom is small on tumblr. It really is just gatekeeper who's throwing us off tbh. ! is only "better" bc it's larger, it ran, like, 5 years or so? And !! has been running for 2, so it has a lot more content, yes, but I don't think it's that bad. The characters changed and evolved (a joy of enstars), and writing a character based on their ! characterisation would still end up as OOC unless you're writing them in the ! setting. Writing a character in the !! as you know them in !! should be fine, I believe. Like, ! might be good info to have for the subtleties, but most of what I know from ! are things I never explicitly mention, just weave through their characterisation. Making a character like Mika avoid eye contact when nervous isn't a big deal at all - but it's my way of saying, "It's hard to get rid of old habits, especially of ones so ingrained in a person. Even if he's learning to love himself, he still kept the habit of hiding the eyes he grew up hating when he feels threatened".

At the end of the day, fandom drama is childish. Fandom drama that starts because someone hates "OOC fics" (of all the things) is even more childish. It's really not hard to exit a fic you don't like. It's more effort to type up hate for it.

#man idk #it's just discouraging - i don't care for what people think of my writing if it's negative #but young writers will not have the confidence that more experienced ones have #bc i've been writing for years - literally years - and i already know #i don't even notice anymore the notes i get on my writing. i release it and it stops existing until someone comments on it #but new writers will be more fragile and. i just feel bad #bc this is a hobby that gives me so much happiness and joy and i don't want someone who #would also derive joy from writing to be bullied into dropping it.#asks

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whosjunglejim4322 · 5 years ago

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Warnings: SMUT, insecurities but mark just needs a lil reassurance abt how good he makes you feel, finger fucking/sucking, he cums in his pants, fluff bc yall r in love love <3

Mark knows he's being irrational about this whole ordeal. One conversation shouldn't be getting under his skin like it is, but this one thing seems to be knocking at the forefront of his brain, throwing him out of focus as of late.

So what, you masturbate. It's normal, he's not there all the time, of course you do. He does too, but he also becomes outrageously horny everytime he so much as thinks about your skin or the way you kiss him. And it's safe to say he thinks about you alot. Alot alot.

"It's different, though? I'm a guy, we jerk off an outrageous amount," he argues, furrowing his eyebrows as you stare up at his pacing form from the bed, grinning. He's cute when he's flustered.

"And girls just...aren't supposed to get horny without the help of a guy?" You inquire.

He stops pacing at this, slumping his shoulders. "that's not what I mean, I just-" he sighs, plopping himself next to you on the edge of the bed. He chews on the inside of his lip for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nevermind, I'm just tired." He runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, looking at you apologetically with his big doe eyes.

You're still amused, giggling as you reach over to cup his rosy hued cheeks, pulling him to your mouth for a kiss.

"A little toy could never replace you, my love."

You'd reassured him that night by wrapping your lips around his dick, and he was too lost in the belly aching anticipation and bliss of it all, to really pay attention to what it was you'd just said.

A little toy.

He hasn't stopped thinking about it. It's both slightly irritating, while also being the new source of his sexual frustration when he's supposed to be practicing. He thinks it may be more irritating than the ladder though, because as much as he hates to admit it, he is a jealous creature.

It's silly, childish and he knows it. Maybe that's why he's so unsettled by this, because he knows that you love him. He knows you like his dick, from what you've expressed. But, maybe he's doing something wrong?

Maybe you just don't want to to wound his ego, and instead act like his dick is enough to satisfy you. Of course, he knows some sensations are better than others, but how often do you need to touch yourself? Does he not please you enough in the moments you two are together?

These questions still nag him when he walks into your apartment at around 7:35 pm, causing worry to crease between his brows.

You, of course, pick up on this when you round the corner from your bedroom to see him making his way towards you, lost in thought. Your arms snake around his middle and your lips place a kiss to his jaw. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"What's got you all mopey?" You ask, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort in his eyes, only to be stumped by his undreadable expression. Maybe he's just had a long day?

He hums, broken from his self depricating reverie, evidently not realizing he's wearing his emotions so blatantly.

"Nothin' just tired, wanted to come home." He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder once you've pulled him into your room, his breath warm against your neck.

You must've just taken a shower, skin the scent of his favorite soap that always has him sniffing you randomly throughout the day. He squeezes you tighter.

You kiss the side of his head, reluctantly pulling yourself away only to grab his hands and move to the bed, not believing that there's nothing more than just fatigue that's got his usual goofy smile hidden behind such a frustrated countenance.

You crawl onto his lap once his back is against the headboard, his hands slipping underneath your shirt to rub your back, a habit when he's nervous. He knows what's coming, already avoiding your eyes.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, Mark Lee? No excuses, this time." You mean business, but your voice is still as soft and comforting as ever. He can't resist looking up at you once you stroke his cheek with your thumb, featherlight.

With a drawn out breath, he reluctantly responds, knowing it'll only eat at him further if he doesn't.

"It's just....I feel like maybe I don't do enough for you...sexually? Like, I know everyone masturbates and It's totally fine you use a toy and stuff, I just feel like...like maybe It's better than...than what I can do? I know I'm not the most experienced but-"

He's stuttering, ears tomato red at the tips and he's a bit perplexed to see such a jubilant smile spreading across your face as he rubs the back of his neck, embarassed beyond belief.

"Mark..." you cup his soft, blazing cheeks in your palms, forcing him to meet your gaze as squeamish as he's suddenly become. "you're that upset over something like this?"

You don't sound judgemental nor teasing, despite the way you're grinning. But still, he wants to hide his face, wants to bow his head in shame. Suddenly he feels very foolish.

Not being able to stand seeing him so crestfallen, you reassure him, trurthfully. Your heart aches.

"Hey hey, look at me bub," wide doe eyes stare back at you, as you move some of his hair out from in front of his forehead where the strands have fallen. "you are more than enough, so good that when you're away I cant stand it. I have to touch myself, and I'm not just saying that."

His expression has regained some confidence, though you're not done yet. You've got this determination swirling in the pit of your belly, thrumming through your veins. You want him to know how truly incredible he really is, how good he really makes you feel.

"I think about your hands, your mouth, your dick. And you know what? By the end of it I'm not even satisfied, because that little toy isn't you. Do you understand? Hmm? Or do I have to show you?"

Suddenly his heartbeat is loud in his ears, adams apple bobbing as he swallows. He's hardened underneath you and you known that you've got him.

"I-I understand, now. But you could still show me, you know. If you want." His voice is a little unsteady but the corners of his soft, pink mouth twitch at the corners with an echo of a smile.

It's too much, Mark Lee absolutely will be the death of you. And so you kiss him, in a way that has his toes curling and his arms wrapping around your middle like a boa, refusing to let go.

Your fingers are tiwsted in his hair as you suck on his plush bottom lip, a gasp leaving his throat when your teeth nibble the sensitive skin. He can feel your hardened nipples through your sweater, pressing against his chest.

Your knees have tightened around the small of his waist as well, crotch rubbing against the strained bulge in his basketball shorts. You whine into his mouth.

"Mm, you should feel how wet you make me," his hands venture lower at this, until his warm fingertips are pressing into the flesh of your thighs. "go ahead Markie, touch me."

He groans, not being able to hold it back from his chest at the sound of your voice and your generous offer. His fingers, delicate and eager rub your pussy through your lounge shorts, and his jaw slacks a bit at your lack of underwear.

Your tongue slips against his, mouths parted and greedy while he slips his hand into the warmth of your shorts - and practically whines.

He wasn't expecting the abundance of your essence, the utter and complete lack of friction as his digits glide effortlessly through your silken folds. He takes his ring finger and presses the pad of it against your entrance, circling and listening to the lewd, slick sounds.

"Oh fuck," he croons free hand on your lower back and urging you against his touch. "you're s-so wet already, how are you so wet?" He's mystified, and completely fucked.

"I told you." You kiss him again, swallowing his reply and grinding your pussy against his palm. Without warning, he slips a finger in, and then another, falling apart at the way your walls so eagerly welcome them. He trembles.

"Mm, Mark." You're reaching down, underneath his arm and gripping his length, hot in your hand underneath the slinky material of his shorts. He twitches.

Suddenly his fingers are curling inside of you, and he begins to languidly pump them in and out of your sopping heat, on fire from his toes to the top of his head. You have to grip onto his shoulders, momentarily forgetting your previous endeavor of palming his dick.

He doesn't mind, not when you're whining like this, fingers digging into his skin, your body rocking against his while your walls hug and squeeze around his digits.

"Does it feel good?" He asks genuinley, but already knows the answer, too high off of this moment to not want his ego stroked. Your eyebrows are furrowed, lips kiss bitten, skin hot to the touch. You can barely make out an answer, and he swears all the blood in his body rushes straight to his dick.

"S-so good Markie - harder, please." You bury your face in the crook of his shoulder as tour thighs tremble around his narrow hips, lips trembling against his throat. He obliges you happily, anything to have you wilting against him like this. To hear more of the sounds you're making, for him.

Anyone outside the door would know whats going on, with the squelching of your wetness and the vigor in which he's fucking you with his fingers, heel of his palm nudging your clit with each thrust. You already feel that pit of pressure inside your belly expanding, so close to the brink of exploding.

He's fairing the same, if he's honest. You're rubbing up against the painful, throbbing boner in his bottoms, hidden behind only a thin layer of clothing. Your juices have leaked, leaving your own shorts wet at the crotch and the sight is erotic in a way that makes him buck up against you.

His free hand cups your face when he adds a third finger, pulling you from his shoulder to look at your face.

He damn near blows his load right then and there.

You look like you're on the verge of tears, not able to hold yourself up straight. A blush burns his skin, when you lean into his touch, fingers grasping at the front of his white tee.

"M'gonna cum soon Markie."

His heart threatens to explode from his chest when you turn your head and suck his thumb into your warm mouth, closing your eyes and bliss while his fingers pump into you, buried to the third knuckle.

This causes him to thrust into you with a sudden jolt, and the way his fingertips rub against the sweet spot deep inside of you, has the build up of pleasure finally spilling over like a broken dam.

The fingers on either of his hands are soaked now, one with your saliva and the other with your cum. You're gripping onto his wrists, letting him massage the inside of your walls while they contract around him, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

The sight, the feeling, is too much. You're a mess, a beautiful, sopping wet mess and without warning it's like a freight train is hitting him at full force, cock twitching willdy as pure bliss seeps through his pores.

You're still shivering, humping his hand while spurts of cum fill the inside of his shorts, dripping down the crease of his thigh and even soaking through the material a bit. Your eyes are barely able to open, but you will them to when you hear the almost imperceptible groan that strains from his throat when your heartbeat finally stops drumming so loudly in your ears.

Your belly lurches, skin tingly to the touch as he slumps against the headboard, peering up at you with more adoration than you can handle.

"I-I came in my pants." He breathes out, panting heavily alongside you. The thrill that runs down your spine like a tremor at the realization that he's cum, untouched, because of you, is what allows you to have half the mind to pull his fingers from your aching heat - replacing the others in your mouth.

His head lolls to the side, honey eyes trained on you like it’s impossible to look away while you suck your juices from his digits, humming around them. It's like he's staring up at the sun, mesmerized.

And then you're kissing him, and he's sure he's gone to heaven. He tastes you on the tip of your own tongue, and you're so sweet, so tender when you grasp his cheeks.

"I came in my pants too, by the way. Technically." You smile, and he chuckles warmly, giddy. His arms encapsulate you and he nudges the tip of your nose with his own.

The toy can have its fun, he thinks to himself. Because really, truly, nothing - and no one, will ever be as lucky and as enamored as he is with you.

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loooreleii · 4 years ago

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Forgive me for not having the greatest prompt since i don't rly know the source material but maybe the first time pran wears one of pat's shirts and/or pat noticing pran wearing something of his in public? (optional: and he may not be able to say anything bc they're still in angst zone)

[Obvi no worries if this prompt doesn't tickle your fancy. Maybe someone has a better one?]

Maria, my dear 💕💕💕 Thank you for enabling me 😂

This turned out a lot longer than expected, but that's probably no surprise to you. Brevity, thy name is not Laura 😵

***********

It's Saturday, and Pat should be on his couch playing video games, or maybe playing rugby with his friends. But it's finals week, and he unfortunately isn't in his flat wearing sweatpants and being lazy.

Instead, he's on campus, taking a break from studying in the library and searching for a nice spot to have lunch in the seating area next to it. The place is relatively empty, safe for a few upper-class students who seem to be desperately cramming for their own exams even on their lunch break. It's a little bit depressing, really.

He spots Ink across the courtyard and makes his way over to her, only to stop in his tracks when he sees the familiar figure sitting opposite her. It's Pran, and simply seeing the back of his head makes Pat's stomach do an excited little jump. He's really a little bit too in love with him. He had seen him only a few hours ago when he pulled him closer and begged him to stay in bed just for five more minutes, but Pran isn’t one to lounge in bed for hours, and he had to meet Wai so they could finish an important presentation, so Pat had to cuddle Nong Nao instead and miss the feeling of Pran's hair tickling his neck.

Almost instinctively, Pat takes a few more steps towards them until he's able to see Pran's face. But then, he stops once again, his heart starting to pound rapidly in his chest and a swooping feeling rushing through him.

Pran is wearing a teal-coloured henley shirt that's a little bit too large on him. The top three buttons are undone, showing off his collar bones, and he looks lovely, enticing, but it's not the reason Pat's heart rate is accelerating. Well, it's probably a contributing factor. But the main reason is that Pat knows this shirt. Because it's Pat's. And Pran is wearing it. In public. Pran is wearing his shirt in public, where others can see it.

Of course, Pran has worn Pat's clothes before. Sometimes he'll put on Pat's hoodie when they go up to the rooftop and the night is a little chilly, he'll borrow a pair of sweatpants to sleep in when he stays over, or throw on a random shirt in the morning when he gets up to make breakfast. On one memorable occasion, he wore nothing but, and Pat can't remember ever seeing anything as intensely arousing as Pran wearing nothing but his old, ratty tank top while puttering around in the kitchen without a care about being half naked. It was absolutely worth the embarrassment of triggering the smoke alarm when Pat promptly dragged him back to bed and the toast got burnt.

But this is different. Because they're not in the reclusive safe zone of their dorms.

Of course, not a single person on campus walking past Pran would even notice. Probably not even Pran's own friends. But Pat does, and it stirs something inside of him, something that feels like possessiveness, like belonging, as if Pran has willingly marked himself as his. It's as if he's taken a tentative step towards letting the world see them.

They keep themselves hidden still, their relationship reserved for the privacy of their rooms and the rooftop where it all began. Both of them are too scared of letting others know, of bursting the bubble of comfort and security they exist in, of the judgement of the world and the disappointment of their friends when they find out they've been lied to for months.

Ultimately, they're most afraid that they'll get too comfortable and slip up in front of their parents, terrified of their reaction and of being separated again. Pran in particular, is afraid, still traumatised from that time his parents forcefully removed him from his childhood home and his school, ripping him out of his peer group and throwing him into an unfamiliar environment hundreds of miles away as punishment for getting too close to Pat.

Pran once confessed to him that he used to feel like he always had a price to pay for any sliver of affection he got from Pat. Afterwards, Pat made it his mission to make sure that Pran never felt that way again, that he could be sure that Pat’s love for him, the love he gave him, would never come with a sacrifice, that he’d be safe with him, and that Pat would make sure of it.

So Pat is careful and tries as best as he can to keep their secret, and for now, it's OK. Their relationship is new, uncharted territory for them to explore, to map out and shape in a way that suits them. And the two of them have always existed in the shadowy corners of secrecy, hidden from view and coming alive as fragments of stolen moments.

Sometimes, this secrecy is stifling. It's in moments when Pran is right across the room, and Pat has to pretend he isn't the only thing he wants to look at, the one thing capturing all of his attention. It's the times when Korn asks him to go and hit on some girls with him, and Pat has no good explanation for why he isn't interested in the pretty women at the bar, when he has to make up lies, and pretend, and hold himself back.

At other times, it feels like freedom. Because when it's just them, and as long as no one knows, they can simply be. Despite all the restrictions their parents imposed on them, Pat always felt free with Pran. Because no one could ever know about them meeting each other, it allowed Pat to be the truest version of himself, as no one else would ever find out about that side of him. Now, it allows them to explore what they are, how they fit, and what they want, without anyone observing, interpreting, or judging.

But there are moments when Pran is lying in his arms, when the universe seems to have shifted its focus, forgotten about the sun and decided to spin around them instead, when Pat feels so overcome with affection that he thinks he might burst from it, and he wants nothing more than to scream and shout his love from the rooftops. To let everyone know that Pran is his, that this wonderful, beautifully complicated man chose him of all people, as stupid and clumsy and loud-mouthed as he is, that he's the one who gets to hold Pran, and kiss him, and love him.

But Pat remains quiet, stifles his voice by kissing Pran, and whispers the words into his skin instead. He doesn't really need others to hear him as long as Pran replies in kind.

Right now, though, he feels like screaming again. He doesn't, because Pran would never forgive him, and he has a vested interest in being in his good books, what with Pran being his boyfriend and all that. So Pat has to remain reasonable and in control of his emotions. And what he should do right now is walk past them and ignore Pran, eat somewhere else, and wait for the time when they’re both back at their dorm room and he can rip the shirt off Pran as soon as the door falls closed behind them. What he does instead is make a beeline towards their table, because Pat is weak and in love, and Pran is right there, wearing his clothes, and it’s making him a little bit stupid.

"Hi Ink!" Pat says in a cheerful tone, adding "Pran," as if he’s an afterthought, when he’s really anything but, but he has to keep up the pretense. When he sits down next to Pran, at the appropriate distance, and without looking at him, he knows it was futile, though.

Ink smirks, and gives Pat a very pointed look, glances demonstratively at Pran's chest, then meets Pat's eyes again. So she noticed. Because, of course she did. That girl is too clever for her own good, or Pat's, for that matter. She's also way too cocky. Technically, Ink doesn't know about them. They never told her (or anyone, not even Pha), and they still pretend to be barely more than casual acquaintances in public. But Pat knows that she knows. She's too perceptive and knows them too well to miss the ways in which Pat sometimes slips up because he simply can't help but look at Pran for a moment too long or smile a little too wide when he's around. And Ink likely knows that Pat knows that she knows, because she teases him constantly, asking why he's not chasing after a girl right now, or what got him into such a good mood, or if he's seen Pran recently.

"Pran and I were just talking about the new cafe down at the CommArts building. They serve really good milkshakes. We might go there tomorrow. Do you want to join us?"

"I….Ehm, no I have plans for tomorrow. All day. I can't, sorry," Pat replies, and even he can hear that this was a very unconvincing excuse.

"That's too bad," Ink says, but she doesn't sound sad in the slightest. Instead, there's an alarming glint in her eyes. "By the way, that's a very nice shirt you're wearing, Pran. Isn't it nice, Pat?" She asks with a fake innocence in her voice, and Pran tenses up next to him. "Is it new?" The shirt is so obviously not new - the colour is slightly faded and one of the hems is close to unravelling - the question sounds like an open mockery.

Still, Pran being Pran, he catches himself almost immediately, straightens up, and puts on one of the pleasant, friendly faces he has practiced all his life. "No. I just forgot to do my laundry and pulled it out of the back of my closet," he says, and it would be convincing to someone who isn't as intimately familiar with all of his expressions and habits. But Pat can barely suppress a snort. Pran doesn't forget to do his laundry. In fact, it's a fixed task on his weekly schedule every Tuesday evening at 6 p.m. sharp.

"Hmm, that makes sense. Now that you mention it,..." Ink replies, mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leans forward and looks from Pran to Pat, and back to the other. "I could swear I've seen it before somewhere."

"Well, it's a common shirt, isn't it," Pat says quickly to diffuse the situation. "Anyway, Ink, how's your photo project coming along?" he continues, trying to distract Ink because Pat still notices how keyed-up Pran is beside him.

"Nice try. But I already told you yesterday," Ink says, and starts to laugh. She's really not even pretending to be oblivious at this point. Pat makes a mental note to talk to Pran about it. He hopes it won't make him panic.

"Well, this reminds me that I have to get to the studio. I'll leave you two alone now," Ink says, getting up and giving them another cheeky grin. "Have fun!" She adds, and then she leaves, a preppy bounce in her step.

When Pat looks over at Pran, the other is already looking at him with large, round eyes, self-consciously tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"I ran late and grabbed it by accident," he says, trying to sound nonchalant, then quickly averts his eyes and starts scribbling something in his notebook as if that's the end of the conversation. But Pat notices the pink blotches blooming on his cheeks, and has to bite his lip to not call out that obvious lie. Because just like he doesn’t forget to do laundry, Pran doesn't run late. Ever. He gets up at 7 a.m. like clockwork, goes through his morning routine like an intricate choreography, and leaves the flat at exactly quarter past 8. Pat has memorised it all, but Pran doesn't know that because Pat usually pretends to be asleep. In reality, he wakes up the moment Pran's weight and warmth are gone from his side, but he doesn't want Pran to notice, because then he'd be self-conscious and Pat loves seeing him so entirely unguarded, bustling around the apartment and going through his routine.

Pat looks around them to make sure there's no one around to see them, and then scoots over, leaning further into Pran’s personal space, because he really can’t hold himself back right now. Not when Pran's cheeks are flushed so prettily and he's being so adorably awkward. Not when the sight of him in Pat's old, comfortable henley, and knowing he wore it deliberately, loosens something in Pat's chest, a familiar, tingling warmth spreading through him in a place where it usually has to be kept at bay.

"What if someone sees?" he asks, trying to keep his voice serious and casual, but the grin is already tucking at the corners of his mouth.

Pran's head whips up, and he looks at Pat again, a long, drawn-out moment in which his face is undecipherable, his body still tense, and Pat worries if he went too far. But then, Pran’s eyes soften, and his face opens up to let Pat see him. He puts his pen down and turns so he’s facing Pat, tilting his chin up and raising his brows, his expression almost defiant.

"Let them," Pran says, his voice tinted with tentative confidence, and the grin spreads over Pat’s entire face.

"It suits you," he whispers, moving closer still and brushing his fingers over the collar. Pran raises his brow in warning, but he doesn’t move away, so Pat decides to push his luck a little further. "You can borrow my clothes anytime. I love to see you in my shirt. It looks like you belong to me." He lowers his voice, looks at Pran from below his lashes and smirks, knowing he’s being terribly obnoxious right now, but teasing Pran is still one of his favourite pastimes. "If you want to wear my jersey, too, just say the word. I’d love to see you walking around with my name on your back."

And that's when Pran groans, pushes his hands away and gets up in one quick movement, almost tumbling over his own feet. "I have to get back to the study room now," he says, the words stumbling out of his mouth as he hastily collects his things. "See you later."

He’s rushing away with long, quick strides, and when Pat can't hold back his laughter anymore, Pran throws him an exasperated look over his shoulder. Pat knows he'll have to pay for this later, probably by not being allowed to sleep over at Pran's flat like he planned to do. It’s okay though. He will convince him in some way, whine and grovel until Pran forgives him, like he always does. And seeing the blush turn the back of Pran’s neck crimson as he walks away is absolutely worth it. It's a nice contrast to the blue of his shirt. Pat thinks Pran should wear it more often.

He'll still absolutely rip the shirt off Pran later, though.

#patpran #bad buddy #bad buddy the series #my writing

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thepringlesofblood · 3 years ago

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heroforge hoes: pt 1(?)

i keep making guys in heroforge. i don’t know why. is this what ocd is???? i can’t stop????

anyway. i want to share these so that I can stop working on them. so that I can go “there. it is done. it has been put out into the world, and it is complete. stop adjusting tiny little things and do your fucking homework. or eat. or sleep. or shower.”

also, i am weirdly proud of them. but the point of me posting them is so that my brain will consider them “finished” and will stop adjusting every. little. thing.

99% of these are blorbos from my various shows. these are the ones I will be posting (in a series of posts so I don’t waste ALL of today), bc part of this obsession seems to be with getting things “right” - i.e. accurate to the source material. by solidifying one representation of them, and throwing it out into the internet, i’m filing them away under “vetted and approved.”

so please, please, please do not comment “oh you missed this actually :)” no matter how well meaning. keep it to yourself. I guarantee you, I have already thought of it and attempted to do a heroforge representation of it somehow. it’s a good system but it is limited. compliments are fine just. i can’t fix these. fix them yourself if you want but don’t tell me about it.

I’m going to do screenshots as well as links. heroforge is a free service and doesn’t have any ads or anything so it’s not gonna throw a bunch of popups at you. (you can buy heroforge pro but it just unlocks some extra stuff and early access).

For this one I’m going to start with just posting my good omens characters.

one of the first guys i made was Aziraphale, and I’m pretty proud of how he turned out

I was kind of PO’d that I couldn’t put the watch in his jacket but I think it worked out fine. I was originally going to give him a full afro (I’ve always liked the afro = halo look in aziraphale art) but the one they had kind of blocked off part of his face so I went with a shorter one. still a great style, just didn’t really work for me.

One thing I do wish heroforge had is the option to give a character stretchmarks*. I’ve always loved the headcanon of aziraphale with golden stretchmarks. I cobbled together these two options from other kinds of body decals, and I think they’re decent, but still. hf lets you make your characters pretty fat but the proportions can get a little fucky sometimes, especially when you consider that these guys were designed to be 3d printed.

*whenever I complain about heroforge not having something, understand that I am both a. very appreciative of it as a free, kickstarted service with limited staff and time and a variety of options for players of many different cultures, play styles, campaign settings, abilities, gender identities, etc. and b. thinking every goddamned day about the TWENTY-ONE discrete kinds of eyebrow scars you can put on your guy (and they all look the same!!!)

anyway.

here’s crowley!

smallest face tattoo I could find, I think it worked out OK. the shoes actually have the “reptile: black” skin texture lol but hf doesn’t really render individual scales for reptiles most of the time so it just looks black :/ he gets a molotov cocktail bc there’s no tire iron or car/bentley situation and i think he deserves it. as a treat. for the wine bottle on the ground you have the option to both put a label on it AND put a symbol on it, which is great, and there’s a LOT of symbols to choose from, but none that are just “scribbly writing that looks like a wine label” so i chose a rune of draconic power. I also wanted to do some secret scales for him, but again the body decal gods were not in my favor. here’s the two options I came up with.

the “dapples” are p cool and it’s awesome that they have so many options for vitiligo, but also given the sheer volume of “lizard/snake person/dragon/crocodile” options they have it’s real weird that there’s no all-purpose “scales” body decal.

speaking of snakes...here’s an all-snake person crowley. they let you be a “naga” (half-snake half-person, like a mermaid but snake) or a “serpent-folk” (a person-size snake). i didn’t do a naga since I have a person-crowley and a snake-crowley so just like. jam em up in your imagination.

as you can see, surprisingly few scales. the “bands” on the bottom are a body decal called “coral snake” that was the closest I could get to an overall scaly look. they got the belly scutes, the head, the hood (which is optional i just thought it looked nice on him), the tops of the forearms, the hands and some shoulder and back scales. but the real snakey bit - nada. fascinating. i still like him. I would’ve made him all one color and less shiny, but the “coral snake” bands have to stand out somehow, and I figured i’ll make up for the lack of scales in shininess

and the final good omens character I have made...anathema!!!!!

this one was Hard. so we got the Book, we got her bread knife (something left out of the show that I personally love), and I couldn’t really find many weird witchy looking instruments so I went with some bottles. her outfit is really just 50 shades of green and black, but it has all this lace and different kinds of fabrics to keep it interesting. here she’s just. different greens. and blacks. hf can’t do lace (completely understandable can u imagine trying to 3d print that??) and while you can sort of do different textures, it’s just not the same. I think she turned out OK though! glass in the glasses kind of just got in the way of seeing her eyes, so I took it out. I was surprised at how thick the frames are! they’re all like that - very sturdy. also this jacket is called “undercover jacket” hf my guy that is the loudest looking jacket i ever seen in my life.

now you may say ‘fuck finally, that’s the last good omens character i’ll stop reading this post now’ but ohohoho not quite so. you see. i do have several permutations of aziraphale and crowley, so while they’re not new good omens characters they are new takes on the boys.

now. before we go any further you must check out @worse0mens and their many wonderful fics on ao3. these versions of aziraphale and crowley are based on their marvelous Lord of the Rings AUs, and were made early into my heroforge phase, when it was mostly just me playing dress-up with this dnd character creator, before the Madness set in and it became an ocd thing. they’re some of my favorites of all time!

I’ll link the fics each of them came from next to each character, but I cannot suggest enough that if you like Good Omens aus or fics of any kind (perchance, omens of another kind?) I would highly recommend checking them out! ^v^

enough dillydallying, here’s Orc Crowley from “The Orc and the Elf” “What Remains of a Heart” and “The Good Orc”!

ladies, gents, and those of us who know better, you cannot make this dog look not derpy. i hate even saying derpy but there’s no other way to describe him. I tried every menu and sub-menu to see if there were any controls for the warg’s expression but alas, no dice. the warg mount just. looks like that. it’s a dope ass character model though can’t complain about that in a 3d printed model you’d never notice it, he just stares like he sees the end of all things and comprehends none of it. though maybe that’s accurate for some dogs. Rover didn’t strike me as a pinnacle of intellect when I was reading the fic (he is of course still a very very good boy!) but I did want to try and making him look more dynamic. c’est la vie!

I really had fun making this guy. one great thing about the heroforge coloration system (which I will always sing the praises of, it’s WILD how customized you can get without it being a burden to do for each character, there’s so many options) is that you can make anything glow if you want. I decided to give crowley little a eyeglow. as a treat. and I’m super glad I did! it makes them so distinct.

so. one of his hands is gripping the mane to hold on and one is just sort of. floatin. this is because for some reason, of the 3 “riding a horse/pony/warg” poses, none of them is “holding on to the very fast thing you’re riding” I guess it’s to make held items easier to distinguish, but it’s weird that it’s not even an option for characters who aren’t holding things. I had to get in the “advanced poses” menu and really finagle to get that one hand on Rover’s mane (that’s why its clipping through), and after those 15 minutes or so were spent I decided you know what, crowley’s a big strong orc, maybe he only needs one hand to hang on after all!

For some reason, I always wind up picturing crowley with freckles, and I am a sucker for magic people having like. glowing or weird freckles that look like stars. idk where this love came from but here it is. the fic describes crowley’s skin as “pebble-gray” so I went with a bright metallic silver for his freckles, and I’m really proud of how it turned out!

also for some reason while there’s a million daggers/shortblades you can have, only like. 5 of them can come in sheaths. the rest just hang loose wherever you decide to put them. hazardous! so crowley’s “twin daggers” wound up being kukri knives, since tbh I thought they looked cool and the basic “sheathed dagger” is like. really really small. which is great for some things but I figured crowley would have something with a little more heft.

the fic describes crowley’s sword as a “scimitar”, and the 2 swords hf has with “scimitar” in the name were just not sparking joy for some reason, so I looked up the sword I thought looked best (the janissary kilij) and it turns out it is a type of scimitar! incurable pickiness justified.

I pretty much just pictured elf aziraphale as normal aziraphale but with elf ears (i am not a huge elf fan, I very much enjoyed the fic dunking on thranduil lol), so I didn’t wind up making him.

I did make the hobbit!aziraphale from worse0mens’ other lotr au, There and Back Again (And Again, And Again...) though!

for some reason, when you click on “halfling” as an option, they don’t give you the hairy feet. idk if this is a dnd change for copyright reasons from the tolkien estate (everyone knows “halfling” = “hobbit” its just a matter of intellectual property and shit) or what, but I was kinda sad, since I was excited to have a woman with obvious body hair (there’s no decals for body hair either, except for upper chest hair). I tried to find various hairy-looking shoes, but no success. I did give her the vitiligo leg/foot decal and colored all of the patches to match her skin tone except for the bottoms of her feet, which I did a slightly darker color, to indicate calluses bc hobbits walk barefoot everywhere bc they’re just Built Different. I tried not to go too overboard with it though since she is a very clean and fastidious lady and generally just hangs out in her house (oh, to be a wealthy single hobbit spending the day reading unbothered by the whims of society...)

hf also doesn’t do patterns on clothes, unless they’re physically molded into the cloth (like anathema’s jacket). so no tartan :/ I imagined aziraphale to have a dark green tartan shirt under her vest for some reason so I chased that bliss, and otherwise generally followed the “brown and cream” theme.

I was going to try and get some braids and beads in her hair (if ya know ya know) but the braided buns all got rid of the loose strands framing her face and the other braids were really really long and kind of clashed with the vibe, so i stuck with the unbraided bun. and there’s no hair beads. which is fair tbh its a very specific thing (then again.....21 eyebrow scars)

for reasons unknown to me, some objects have a myriad of decals to choose from, and some only let you have blood splatter (and more recently, dirt stains or colorful powder stains). like, anathema’s “ornate book”? only blood splatter. but these books on the tops of the stacks here? a bajillion options. I went with a dragon (bc lol smaug-shadowing for the hobbit, which takes place after this fic) and some flowers to make aziraphale’s folk medicine book ;)

I don’t want to just complain abt all the stuff hf doesn’t have bc it’s a good, free service with no annoying ads, so I do want to say that the default coloring for the books and cups looked really nice - I only made a few tweaks, which is a big deal for my very picky eyes. letting you pick a “theme” which automatically colors clothes/gear/everything but the actual person is really useful for when you don’t want to go as deep in the paint as I usually do. you can still color each individual item if you want, but if you don’t want to do that it offers an alternative where it shows you like 10-15 basic color schemes for you to pick from.

I had to decide b/w the bowtie and the zirak-baraz necklace, and I went with the bowtie, since the necklace options really don’t jive with the look and she wears it under her shirt a lot of the time anyway. also, aziraphale + bowtie = iconic. the normal plain bowtie looked weirdly big on her and kept clipping so I went with another one that was wild west themed or something, but I think it still works.

I did run into hf’s weird ideas about body configuration here. they do let you make your guys decently fat, but it’s really hard to get a ratio that doesn’t look grossly exaggerated, and its partly based on species. the default setting for halflings is like, REALLY skinny, which sucks, and the default for p much all “female” versions of species is large tits and small waists. the waist slider is honestly kind of bullshit in terms of making realistic people. i 100% get that some people like to make cartoon-y looking guys or more caricature-like looks, but since I prefer more realistic-looking characters, I pretty much ALWAYS have to turn the waist slider all the way just for them to look healthy. and then it creates a weird dent where you can turn up the other sliders for weight but the waist is stuck at its maximum so you get these hourglass shapes with sharp corners. it gets covered up a bit when you put clothes on at least, you really can’t see it with aziraphale thankfully. but it does wind up putting a cap on how fat you can make your guys without them looking really unbalanced and cartoonish. I wanted to make her much chubbier but this was sort of as far as i could get with the waist restriction and clipping (and thats a whole other issue) without her look really unbalanced, and *SPOILERS FOR THE FIC* i wasn’t trying to make aziraphale in her pregnancy era here, and idk if it would’ve worked out well. *END SPOILERS*

For dwarf!crowley I wound up making 2 versions, one casual and one in traditional dwarven clothes (and a little grimier) on a pony (if you know you know), mostly bc while i love me some dwarves, i am not a tolkien expert and have only a loose grasp on the aesthetic. some of crowley’s outfits described in the fic are pretty basic, some more complicated, so I decided to do one for each.

here’s casual crowley

I wanted to give them matching teacups so it looks like they’re toasting each other ^v^

also crowley’s tea is way lighter than aziraphales bc i firmly believe this is a ‘coffee as dark as my soul’ ‘so like white chocolate mocha?’ relationship.

the dagger sheaths got me again with this one. crowley’s dagger is specifically described as having a leather sheath, and being as long as aziraphale’s arm. couldn’t get the dwarven runes bc again, the decal gods did not will it. this one is actually called a “disciple of death dagger” - yikes! at least there’s no skulls or anything lol

he’s got the “thin black shirt” from when he’s chopping wood, plus the axe. I couldn’t exactly get a serpent beltbuckle, but I tried to at least get some silver things on him to nod at the whole “crowley silvertongue” thing.

his pants are actually fucking mariachi pants. one thing that does kind of piss me off w hf is that there’s not just. a normal, basic ass pair of pants. or plain leggings. everything has a belt or fringe or pleats or something. the closest you get is scrubs but the drawstring just makes em look like sweatpants. and its not like there’s not basic shit for shirts! there’s a bunch of plain ass t-shirts! but this was sort of the closest I could get without having an extra belt. I will say that you will not lack for belt buckles in heroforge, but they are all the same basic, utilitarian kind for the most part.

both dwarves and halflings by default are really really short. I’m glad the fic specified crowley as 5 ft and aziraphale as 4 ft, which tracks w general tolkien lore n shit, but i had to scale them up a lot from the default setting. huh. another dnd difference?

hf also decided when you click on male dwarf, you still get decent sized tits. I think its the muscle in a compressed space. I am not opposed! i decided he gets to keep them, as a treat. he’s pretty muscular (”lanky for a dwarf” but dwarves are fuckin absolute units) so it checks out and it really works w the 3 button shirt v sexy (can you tell I think dwarves are more attractive than elves?)

the “earring” is my attempt as using the clipping to my advantage to make it look like a hair bead. I think it’s not bad, though you can definitely still tell its on his ear.

one thing that surprised me is the options for wearing braids: single braid (several variations, including queue (think the dai li from atla)). hair down with two braids on top (see above). cornrows (and several combinations of cornrows and afros/natural textured hair). braided bun. “bun held with stick.” “thick braided curls” (held back in an updo).

it surprised me bc #1 good on you hf for having a variety of options for people of color, i wish this wasn’t surprising but still, props #2 you can’t have pigtail braids (2 braids one on either side of your head), and #3 there’s only 1 option for having straight hair down and having braids mixed into it. idk maybe this is a regional thing to where I’m from but people having one or more braids mixed into straight/wavy hair that’s not tied up or in a bun or anything seems p common to me, and at the very least p common in the popular perception of dwarves and their aesthetics. not upset just confused.

I tried to make him a little bit paler due to the dwarf-living-underground thing but i cannot give up my freckle headcanon unfortunately - i just made them very light. maybe he gets them when visiting the shire.

here’s the other one, w the dwarven gear on the pony

it stopped letting me upload screenshots. I have committed way too hard to this. this might be a counterproductive endeavor. we’ll see I guess. here’s the url in case it fucked itself over https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D502896335/

the fuckin. even on a pony they don’t give you reins. i am confusion. w a warg i kinda get it theres not much to hold onto but a pony or horse? no excuse. reins let me at em. i did go through the trouble to get both his hands in there bc crowley does have a history of being bad with horses, and idk if this followed him into this au or if its ok bc its a pony, but i figured he should have both hands in there just in case. he’s very determined at the moment.

I really like the “roan” face decal bc it lets you get your guy grimy around the edges of his face, and as we all know grime is VERY important to the lotr experience. hopefully one day when I have a normal relationship with heroforge i can make an aragorn and he can be so so grimy. or perhaps i can just look up someone else’s aragorn heroforge to check on the grime factor.

its. tilted. the pony. its like tilted to one side. i don’t know why this is. it didn’t start out like that. i don’t know how it got like that. was it all the advanced hand posing to get crowley to grab onto the nonexistent reins??? how would that affect the pony tilting??? maybe he’s going around a very fast corner.

ok thats it. fuck. maybe this way a bad idea. either way, i am putting away these designs and saying “these are complete. I do not need to spend any energy on them anymore. they are done.” I’m even gonna mark their names to say they are done.

if you stuck w this all the way through you’re a fuckin lunatic and i love it.

i use tumblr primarily to either spit things into the void and get them out of my head, keep up on memes, and reblog/compliment fanart, so I really don’t care about any criticism, constructive or not**, and am very much asking you to not do that. compliments are fine just like. please don’t insinuate I should continue to work on these, or find problems with them. they are done. they have taken up far too much brainspace, and I need to let them go. this is me sending them off into the world. i mean use them for your dnd or whatever if you want, just talk to @worse0mens if its one of their characters obviously.

hope you’re doing well and that this was fun and not depressing. I am growing and healing each day. ^v^

**unless you’re worse0mens bc some of them are your characters and I want to be as respectful as possible towards them

#cw discussion of mental illness #cw ocd #cw ocd mention #cw hyperfixation #like the bad kind #good omens #lotr #heroforge #original post

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katbrando · 2 years ago

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💪🏻🎶💭 and 📊 if that's what you're asking for *bloosh*

omg UMI BELOVED you didn't have to send anything in 🥺💜 i appreciate you and apologize beforehand bc i'm so wordy

💪 Describe a theme or other element of the original source material that you feel is strengthened or reinforced by the presence of your ship.

this is tough honestly but because it's about the source material i'll go off my s/i instead of modern au 🤔 i think introducing my s/i (and hp) to diego much earlier on in the race offers extra emphasis/insight into his distrust of people, like... there's so much angst and anger between the two of them. he's a prick who has no problem expressing his disgust with the lower class and people in general, meanwhile my s/i is like his total opposite - she's humble to a fault, distrusts the upper class, and could not care less about diego's prestige. the tension between the two is Interesting and they bring out the worst in each other for a good while before they get over themselves and fall in love much later on

🎶 Select a piece of music to relate to your ship. What themes or ideas about your ships does this piece of music share or highlight?

oh GOD... (looking at the entirety of arctic monkeys' discography) oh boy UHHH ACTUALLY i'll ignore that and throw a curve ball: i recently added 'stargazing' by the neighbourhood to my self-ship playlist 🥺 it contains very important elements of dinokat: - cars (pull it out of park, put it in drive / better keep the ac on for me / windows start to fog) our first kiss is in diego's car, we take a lot of road trips, in general a lot of Bonding and intimacy (both emotional and physical) takes place in his car - tension/mutual pining (it's a race against the clock, but we don't wanna watch / might've set the bar a little too high) we're so annoying bc we liked each other for a while and i was too afraid to admit it to both myself and him, he was too afraid to ruin the bond we have bc it's so rare for him to make close connections and he didn't want to lose that - and an eventual sort of.. Sudden admission of feelings (all the patience that i've got, it's not enough to save me / started with a spark, now we're on fire) again, both of us admitted our feelings in his car HFDKS, it happened fast (a little too fast for my liking) and it felt very like !!!!! help, i really like you !!!!! ??? idk if that makes sense, basically it was bubbling up for a while

💭 What arguments would you use to persuade someone to ship the ship you're discussing?

🥺 ummmmm pretty please ship dinokat bc we're cute 🥺 and i rlly like diego a lot 🥺 /hj .. UGH IDK i think we compliment each other, we're total opposites in terms of personality but i don't think that's a bad thing! we have nearly identical interests and a very similar outlook on life. we're silly and goofy and stupid and want to be better people, especially for each other 🥺

📊 Compare and contrast the personalities of the characters in your ship. Describe whether you feel it is their similarities or their differences that define the ship.

the obvious answer is that diego harbors general distaste for people and he's Very self-centered VS me, who's Very self-less and tends to see the good in people. he truly doesn't care about anyone outside of himself and his small circle, while i would drop everything including my own well-being just to help someone, even if i don't really know them. BUT because we're on two opposite ends of the spectrum i think we both view the other's outlook as sort of.. inspiring, i guess. maybe we wouldn't outwardly admit it (bc we're both STUBBORN LOL) but we can take aspects of each other's outlooks and apply it to ourselves. like obviously i don't want to be AS selfish as him but i can realistically see how taking a crumb of that and applying it to myself would greatly improve my life. putting my own well-being above others is something i can definitely use and would benefit from. and maybe diego can learn to be a little more compassionate by watching the way it makes me feel good to care for other people. but also i think our similarities are wonderful :'))) we can agree on aesthetics and music and humor and general opinions on things (outside of the things i mentioned above) and that really makes things so much more fun!!!!

#good lord i rlly know how to Talk huh ..... SORRY FHDSKJG #thank you for asking umi i appreciate you 💜#kat answers

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thebibliosphere · 5 years ago

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Hi bibmum, I tried to start watching the witcher because its all ive been seeing on my dash lately but i could barely get through the first episode. The witcher character telling a rape victim that she's the bad guy for killing her rapists? The "if i have to choose between a greater and a lesser evil, i refuse to choose"? Just. So nasty. But you seem to really love it so im just wondering if it gets better bc the first episode sucks.

I’d need to watch it again cause I don’t remember that particular line with Renfri (not doubting you, I just don’t remember how bad it is), but I think one of the key things about understanding Geralt’s character dynamic is that you’re not actually supposed to like him as he is at the start.

He’s someone carrying a lot of trauma and with that a whole heaping side of depersonalization which can often come off as inexcusably cruel and callous from the outside, and we really don’t get into the whole “being a Witcher has something like a 99.999% fatality rate and that’s just how many die as children in training” thing for quite a while yet.

The whole “witchers have no emotions” thing isn’t just some throwaway line meant to make them seem “othered” from humans or the “strong flawed silent” type we often have for heroes in popular fantasy media. He’s legitimately been conditioned to have zero emotions by his training, and part of his survival instinct is to maintain that facade by ignoring his own emotions because the thing about trauma is once you open that box and start trying to unpack it all, it’s impossible to put it back. And in Geralt’s case, opening up to things and becoming attached and caring is going to get him killed. (Not to even mention all the people that will die if he’s not around to slay monsters.)

That doesn’t make any of the shitty things he says or does right, but as someone who deals with depersonalization as part of my own trauma, I thought the show actually handled his development quite well as the episodes progressed. You see him coming to terms with the fact that, shit, he can’t be impersonal anymore, he can’t stick to just his training because his training isn’t enough. His training got that girl killed. His training makes him the monster. And he knows that. And he’s determined to never let it happen again.

Thus begins his arc of growth, showing that Geralt is someone who does care, he does have profound compassion for those around him (if not always empathy) and he wants to help people so badly, but other than being a brute for hire, he’s not sure how to do that.*

And then because fate is nothing if not a laughing trickster, Geralt suddenly finds himself flung into things that demand more emotional energy and depth than a teaspoon and oh boy, does it never rain but it pours. Like the shiny, shiny bard who is basically ten people’s worth of emotions in one body and is determined, nay, decided to be friends and keeps following Geralt around like a lost puppy singing that fucking song. Or the witch who is seemingly hell-bent on her own destruction in the pursuit of what looks like power, but is actually just a desire to be in control of her own life after centuries of abuse, gaslighting and manipulation (and who, like Geralt, doesn’t know how to be “normal” and perpetuates the cycle of her own abuse because control and manipulation is all she’s ever known). Or the child who by the law of surprise is suddenly his. He is for all intents and purposes a father now, the one thing Witchers are never supposed to be, and just what the fuck is he supposed to do with a child?

So he does the whole “run away thing” for as long as possible, because Christ, that’s a lot of scary emotions right there. That’s more emotions in the span of about 10-20 years than he’s dealt with in the some near 100 years he’s been alive. But he can’t keep running, he knows that. Destiny is an active force in this universe, and it will come to find him. It will hold his feet over the fire and hold him accountable for his actions, and worse yet, it will go after the people he loves if he doesn’t.

So yeah. There are lots of things all the characters in the Witcher say and do that are Problematic. No one is an unproblematic fave, everyone is messy, ugly, broken and sometimes just outright cruel. Some parts of the show made me deeply uncomfortable (I’m thinking of the orgy scene with Yen in Episode 5 which is big yikes for a lot of us, though I have more thoughts on that than I have room for on this post) but there were other parts that made me realize that if the writing keeps up as it is, and we get to move beyond the “meet the characters” stage we’re currently in, this show has the potential to be phenomenal.

So to finally answer your question? Yes, it does get better as the episodes go on. But there will still be moments that raise the yikes meter, but those moments are, I believe, intentional. The show wants you to have strong reactions to things and to throw your hands up and go “come on man! do better!” because we know they do get better. We know from all the other source material we have, that what we are seeing in the show right now is just the messy beginnings of a very complex story.

And also just because the hero says or does something in the narrative, doesn’t mean the show is promoting the bad things as “right”. If anything it wants you to question it more because it’s the hero doing the thing, and heroes are supposed to be better than that. And we know they do, because deep down at its core, the Witcher is a story about a trained monster killer, who goes out of his way to help the monsters. Sometimes he can’t help them and death is the only option. But we’re all faced with things we’d rather not sometimes. Including the reality of our own actions, and Geralt is someone who is wading knee-deep in them.

(*As an aside: we see him at his best when he’s dealing with monsters and animals because they’re not complicated in the way humans are. He talks to his horses because he’s able to show Roach love and affection and care, and it just comes off as good horsemanship, and likely wouldn’t have been discouraged during his Witcher training. And he’s able to help monsters, because, well, he likely sees himself in them.)

#the witcher #long post #meta #mintedpotters

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razberryyum · 5 years ago

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Scumbag System (SVSSS donghua) Episode 10 Thoughts (spoilers)

(covers SVSSS chaps 24 - 26, BC Novels Translations)

And thus the first season of the SVSSS donghua comes to an end...rather weirdly abruptly to be honest, but more on that later. Obviously I love the donghua. It was not perfect, but it still exceeded my expectations. I truly appreciate what they were able to do within their budget constraints and I think they captured the spirit of the source material perfectly, which is really all I hope for when it comes to adaptations. The writing was strong, the humor hit the spot always (for example, when poor Shizun got motion sickness from sword riding, I guffawed), and they also gave us some of the most beautiful characters I’ve ever seen on screen, especially with Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. I really, really hope they release official figurines for them. I’m going to start saving my money now just for that possibility.

Even though their time together in this episode was short, the BingQiu love was definitely strong. They gave them a combo move that was not in the source material: for someone like me who grew up watching Cantonese dramas, two characters who have a combo sword move (”雙劍合璧”!) are usually a couple so I was especially tickled by this addition. I am always thankful to the donghua team for the little Easter Eggs they give us for BingQiu, like the way Binghe's eyes lit up when he sees SQQ...

or when SQQ touches him...

Once again, for those not in the know, it can easily be interpreted as a disciple just being devoted and filial to his Shizun. But for those of us who have read the novel, of course we know it’s indication of Bingmei falling in love with SQQ. I love how subtle yet significant these little expressions of Binghe’s are, and I hope they continue on with these little touches even in the next season.

Of course then there are the more obvious gestures, like that HUG:

It lasted for a good 15 seconds and oh my God look at the Binghe’s hand placement! There was totally nipple groppage happening there! This wasn’t in the book by the way...SQQ didn’t get woozy and Binghe most definitely didn’t have to catch him like some fainting damsel, so we have the donghua team to thank for this wonderful moment of (sexy) physical contact between the two of them.

The donghua team was also especially generous in this episode since not only did we get some BingQiu love, but we got a pinch of LiuShen and QiJiu love too.

LQG’s eyes were on SQQ the entire time! And then Yue Qingyuan as usual took any opportunity he got to touch his Qingqiu. So all shippers were fed. Hell, they even threw in some more straight-baiting again so peeps who are watching the show for the “straight” romance between Luo Binghe and his never-to-be-future-wife Qin Wanyue were fed too since the scene where Binghe gives her the handkerchief to wipe away her tears were not in the chapters of the book for this episode, and racking my brain I don’t even think it was in the book, period. I’m trying to remember if that handkerchief even holds any significance but even if it does, it’s all for naught since we know Qin Wanyue is at most just a minor side character. She does pop up again later on but then is mostly forgotten, so...not quite sure what that moment was all about other than to, I don’t know, throw off the censors?

I’m also not sure why we spent so much time with Liu Mingyan and Gongyi Xiao in this episode. Nothing against them personally, I like both characters very much (despite my previous complaints about GYX’s character design), and it’s not that they don’t deserve more screen time, but this was the season finale! Even though the next season has been announced, God knows when we’ll see it next year and how many episodes it would be, so every minute of screen time matters! That’s why I was a bit puzzled that they used up half of the episode showing LMY basically facing the same perils with her group of fellow disciples as before and GYX just running from that huge serpent. Even if that thing DOES turn out to be Zhuzhi-lang, it was still a bit much. They weren’t exactly character building scenes either so...why? Budget reasons? Didn’t have enough money to pay SQQ’s voice actor (Wu Lei-laoshi) so they had to stick in miscellaneous scenes to lessen his screen time?

I’m kidding of course. God I hope that wasn’t the reason because that would just be sad.

Speaking of miscellaneous scenes though, what was going on with these two dudes?

I gotta admit, I’m a bit salty that these two mob characters got to do what our main couple can’t. What’s their story? Why do they get special privileges? Damn these nobodies. XD

All kidding aside, I have to say, of all the episodes this season, this might be the weakest one, not only because of the “filler” scenes, but also, the way the episode ended was so odd, especially for a season finale. The season basically ended on a scene transition. Not a cliffhanger, just a scene transition, and then cut to credits. What?? Why??? It’s almost as if they just ran out of time so had to stop the show all of a sudden. And then as if to make up for it, they added post-credit scenes which, honestly blew me away because it was so unexpected. It was indeed almost enough to make me completely forgive the weakness of the episode as a whole and that weird-ass ending.

I teared up! The scene was kind of chopped up, didn’t even flow that smoothly, but I still got emotional! I’m sure when I see this scene in its entirety next season I am just going to be destroyed. I think they made it even more gut-wrenching than it was in the novel. Looks like the donghua team really aren’t gonna hold back when it comes to delivering the BingQiu knives.

We also got to see Mobei-jun appear in the post-credits scene; I guess they had to stick him in there since he was featured in the poster for this season, so it would have been weird if he didn’t at least make an appearance.

I immediately thought of him as Sephiroth’s younger cousin when I first saw him on the poster and I still feel that way. Anyone related to Sephiroth, I will approve and instantly have affection for. For the MoShang shippers’ sake, I hope the Shang Qinghua they create for him will be just as pretty. I think I can now safely discard my guess from last time and also that moon-faced bearded ojisan others have guessed. We actually got a glimpse of the real deal in this sequence:

They strategically made him blurry so you can’t really make out his features, but what we still can tell from there is that he does not have facial hair (hence, he cannot be the ojisan) and the hair crown he’s wearing is silver and different from the twinky sect leader. So I guess we’ll be getting a fresh out of the microwave Airplane Bro instead of any of the no-name potential cannon fodder we’ve already seen.

We’ll probably get the abyss opening up in maybe even the first episode of next season but that’ll still leave a lot of ground to be covered in just 10 episodes (rumored). There haven’t been any talk about a third season, but I really hope it’ll happen, even though it might take them a while to make it. I know it’s premature to even think of a third season when we haven’t even gotten an actual release date for the second, but I’m greedy because I already miss the donghua. This season was over so quickly, I’m already mourning the lack of new episodes. I hope we get the second season in the first quarter of next year and then by some miracle, a third or even fourth to properly finish out the story. I know we will never get the FULL story, but as long as they keep the spirit of BingQiu’s love and continue to hint at it like they’ve been doing this season, I will be more than satisfied.

And while I’m wishful thinking for new seasons, I hope we also get a BingQiu duet and character songs. I love the opening and ending theme this season, if they want to save money I totally don’t mind if they just use the same OP/ED themes in the next season as well, but I hope they throw in a good BingQiu insert song and then release some individual character songs as well. I’m still not a fan of Binghe’s voice, but maybe they can have someone else do his vocals for the songs. SVSSS is the older son of MXTX’s works, I feel like it already got short-shrifted in terms of adaptation since it got the lesser budget compared to MDZS and TGCF. Hopefully with how popular the donghua is this season, it will be given a bigger budget next season so they can bring to life all the subsequent proceedings from the book properly. And whatever they’re paying Wu Lei-laoshi, SQQ’s voice actor, they should double it because that man is just amazing. I worship his voice and performance. I wish he would read the audiobook version of the the novel. I would listen to the hell out of that. I have always loved SQQ, but if I’m going to be honest, I came into the show just a little more excited about seeing Bingge being brought to life. I still love Binghe of course, in all his phases, however, now, because of Wu Lei-laoshi’s stellar voice performance (and of course SQQ’s beautiful looks), I’m leaving this season absolutely head over heels about SQQ/Shen Yuan. Also thanks to the show, I’m completely obsessed with Liu Qingge as well. So for those two reasons, I will eternally be grateful to the donghua team.

#SVSSS #Scumbag System #Scum Villain donghua #Scum Villain Self-saving System #BingQiu #LiuShen #QiJiu #MoShang

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minijenn · 4 years ago

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Keys to the Kingdom Preview

In which Sora realizes you need money to exchange for goods and services and also realizes that he’s got none of that bc the Duck and Dog Dads never let him carry any of their cash around. Also the child is starving. Fun!

***

The third night is the first he goes to sleep hungry.

Sora leaves that first world not long into the next day, largely for one very simple, yet very important reason. He can’t find a single source of water anywhere, something that soon starts to become a problem when, after only a few hours of wandering under the relentless sun, his rising thirst slowly starts to turn into the first signs of dehydration. He’s already feeling weak and lightheaded when he caves to summon a dark corridor; and, as he’s quickly starting to get used to, he feels even worse after he crosses through it.

He still doesn’t know how to control where his dark portals lead to, not that the destination really matters as long as it's as far away from either the lights or the Organization as possible. Fortunately, the first thing he sees as soon as he collapses out of the corridor is a river, rushing clear and cool just a few feet away from him. He nearly falls into it, desperately swallowing several mouthfuls of water until he ends up inevitably choking on it. His stomach settles rather quickly this time around, but he’s left with a lingering headache from the short trip through the shadows. He does what he can to ignore it as he splashes some river water onto his face, washing off the thin layer of dust and dirt he hadn’t even realized accumulated on it back in the canyon.

Upon taking a cursory glance at the rest of his surroundings, he finds the river is bordered by dense trees on either side of it, woods that are more comparable to a jungle than a forest. The air is hot here, but different than it had been in the last world, much more humid and bearable as a symphony of wild sounds sing out from the surrounding trees. But what catches Sora’s attention the most is something he can see from his spot on the riverbank, resting downstream just a short distance away: a village.

It’s a relatively tiny town, composed of a collection of simple huts and houses that are by most accounts, largely primitive. Still, Sora heads straight for it as soon as he sees it, knowing that where there’s a town, there’s bound to be something else he’s in need of if his rumbling stomach is anything to go off of: food.

Despite its small size, the village is quite populous, filled with midday hustle and bustle of its humbly-dressed residents going about their usual business. Most of them barely notice Sora as he unceremoniously walks into town, though a few do spare him odd or curious glances as they pass him by. To not arouse any unwanted suspicion or alarm, he keeps his hands tucked into his pockets, his claws out of sight and his head down as he strolls into what appears to be an open air market of sorts. Several stalls have set up shop, pedaling a variety of goods and foods, from fruit to meat to herbs and more. Out of all this, the appetizing scent of freshly baked bread is what draws Sora over to one certain stall, one selling all sorts of loafs, biscuits, and even a handful of cakes. He eyes the impressive display hungrily before picking out a few delectable-looking rolls, as well as a few small, fruit-topped tarts for good measure. He’s still going through the stall’s stock, however, when its owner finally speaks up from her spot on the other side of it.

“Your eyes certainly seem to be overloading your stomach, boy,” the older woman remarks, her face and tone both quite grouchy and detached. “That doesn’t matter much to me though, as long as you can pay for that stash you’re piling up there. You can afford all that, can’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Sora nods, shifting his potential purchases to rest on one arm. He searches his pockets, checking his jacket first and then his pants, only to quickly reach a very startling discovery: he doesn’t have any money on him to speak of.

Before, he’d never really needed to carry money on him. Between the three of them, that had usually been Donald’s job, a job he’d taken away from Sora relatively on into their first adventure together, claiming that he wasn’t “responsible” enough to handle their funds. Sora had playfully brushed the comment off at the time, and over the years, had largely gotten used to either Donald or Goofy keeping track of any money they obtained and what supplies they spent it on in his stead. Only now that he’s on his own without a single cent to his name that he wishes the pair had trusted him just a bit more, at least enough to carry a little of their money around, just in case.

“Um… so… this is pretty funny, I’m sure you’ll get a good laugh out of it,” he begins, throwing on the most charming, pleading smile he can manage. “But... I don’t really have any money…” he hesitantly tells the shop owner, looking between her and the bread in his arms. “You… don’t happen to give out free samples, do you?” The shopkeeper only responds to his small, hopeful smile with a cross, deadpan look, one that gives Sora an answer that’s every bit as clear as words would have been. “Right…” he sighs in defeat, putting every piece of food right back where he found it. “Didn’t think so…”

He sullenly stuffs his hands back into his pockets as he walks away, trying not to steal a glance at any of the other surrounding food stalls, lest his unsatisfied hunger only continue to rise. He nearly makes it out of the market altogether before spots something he’s hard pressed to pass up: a stall selling several different types of fruit. Among them is his favorite by far, a treat he’d always enjoyed snacking on back on the islands: mangoes. The stall doesn’t carry many of them, in fact its entire stock seems to be rather small and largely unimpressive, but one is really all Sora wants right now. After all, something, even if it's something as small as a simple mango, is bound to suffice after three days of eating basically nothing at all.

It’d be easy enough to just take one too. The stall’s owner has their back turned, preoccupied with going through the rest of what they have to put out. All he’d have to do is swiftly pass by, pick one up, and shove it into his pocket without anyone seeing. He’s not very keen on the idea of stealing, especially after how much trouble the unsavory act had gotten him into back in Agrabah. But there, he’d stolen a priceless, magical treasure; here, the only thing he intends on making off with is a single, largely inconsequential piece of fruit. And given just how hungry he’s starting to get, how bad could taking just one really be?

He nearly moves in to do exactly that, though stops short only a few feet away from the stall as a small child, no older than 6, suddenly runs out from behind it. “Papa! Papa!” the boy calls, standing on his tiptoes to peer over the edge of the stall. “Can I have one of the mangos? Please?”

The shopkeeper turns, a kindly-looking man, though his eyes are tired as he looks down at his young child. “Oh, I’m sorry, son,” he frowns, shaking his head. “But those are the last few we have. You know the harvest wasn’t good this year, and if we don’t sell those, we won’t have enough to get the materials your Mama needs to make you new clothes.” The shopkeeper smiles a bit as he steps out to hoist his son up into his arms, affectionately ruffling his hair. “You’re growing so fast that it’s getting hard for us to keep up with you.”

The child laughs as his father carries him back behind the stall, his former request for food all but forgotten by now. Neither of them notice that their warm exchange had been watched from afar, and as soon as it's over, Sora instantly feels guilty for even considering the thought of stealing from them. Of taking something from a family that clearly needs it to survive, simply for his own selfish, singular needs. He hangs his head in shame as he briskly walks past the stall, not even sparing it a second thought as he starkly leaves the village behind entirely.

He finds a place to sleep not too far outside of town, in a well-shaded nook at the near edge of the jungle. It rains that night, and he largely doesn’t sleep, even though he manages to stay relatively dry thanks to the thick canopy of trees overhead. Because the entire night, the most he can really do is lie there, his arms wrapped around his empty, aching stomach, silently pleading for some kind of relief from the starvation he doesn’t know how to stop. Eventually, he somehow falls asleep, dreaming of all of the delicious dishes his mother used to masterfully make for him back home, from freshly steamed salmon, to sweet pineapple cake, to savory vegetable soup. Only to wake up the next morning, still longing for food, longing for his mother, longing for home.

All while knowing painfully well that he won’t get to see any of those things any time soon.

#decided to give ya'll a nice long preview #enjoyyyyyyyy #enjoy a child struggling to survive on his own and not doing a great job of it #poor kid #jen writes #keys to the kingdom #keys preview

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serpenteve · 4 years ago

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im super late but like a couple days ago you got an ask from an anon talking about how darklinas antis are calling darklinas old white women and throwing accusations about racism when most darklinas they know are non white. and i thought your response was interesting because im a darklina and im black! i purely have always shipped based on chemistry. like usually for me it’s whatever ship im drawn to. you know? like you don’t choose the ship, the ship chooses you. and i just saw amazing chemistry between darklina. but i had never considered your interpretation before and it makes me think a little deeper. also antis are trying to make darklinas feel bad for shipping darklina calling it ‘abuse’ and stuff along those lines. idk if anyone else feels that but sometimes it does make me feel bad for shipping a fictional ship??? but im not watching a fantasy show to relate to the real world. im watching it purely for entertainment bc it’s different that reality. shipping should be fun. like why shouldn’t i be allowed to ship this?? it pisses me off.

Hi anon 💕

It's always fun to meet a fellow darklina who's also a poc lol

I assume you're referring to this ask where I outlined how contradictory the two forms of bigotry are treated (or will be treated) by the narrative.

There are many different lenses you can use when consuming media. For example, you could read the original trilogy from a feminist perspective and come to a certain set of conclusions. You could also read it from a race-based perspective and not gather much other than the author's own racist caricatures. Or you can read it through the lens of marginalized groups as a whole in the persecution of the Grisha. Since the book doesn't really make any of those perspectives explicit, I can't really say that one is more worthy than the other.

You could also just read it as a frivolous fantasy for escapism, which considering the way the conflict is treated, I would argue is supposed to be the way it was intended to be read. There is barely any nuance and the black-and-white sense of morality make it difficult to see past the author's own biases when dealing with her character's choices.

There was an opportunity for the TV adaptation to explore the intersectionality of Alina's race and her status as a Grisha, but that likely would have been thwarted from the start considering the direction the source material takes. The writer's hands are sort of tied in that they will probably highlight Alina facing race-based attacks and downplay the Grisha's tenuous social status in Ravka in order to drive home a more simplistic plot.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, the moral landscape of the books as well as the TV adaptation is a complete fucking mess and antis harassing people for their fictional pairings are just bitter that literally no body gave a shit about their garbage ship until Netflix scrubbed Mal's entire character and cast a charismatic man of color in the lead to make their ship more likable. It's almost like even the entire script writing team knew their ship was one of the most hated in the fandom and needed to make major changes to bring people on board? 👀

#viv answers #i feel like this ended up being a rambling mess lol #book!m*l can go choke on his shitty tattoo

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itstittycitybaby · 5 years ago

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From the Ashes We are Born (Part 5)

a/n: take fucking two of posting this bc tumblr likes to fuck me over djdjjdjd. something that always bothered me with evey is the fact she left V?? I get not wanting to be stuck with a stranger for an entire year but you were the one who maced the cop. you decided to do it not v. he did not ask u to. now v torturing her there's not rlly a jusitifed excuse even though i can see why but it's still not justified either way. anyways as always enjoy.

Summary: V is away tending to his daily anarchist duties, which leaves you facing the wake of a treacherous thunder storm alone! Fluff ensues.

a/n 2: oh my god. i finally got the fucking gifs to work. had to navigate back and forth i stg I'm gonna dethrone the Tumblr god.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof. Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.” Oh we definitely have a crush. You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be safe . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

“ I love you baby , and if it’s quite alright I need you baby,” you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas. Did he even like you back? “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.” But what about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back. “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself. Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way.

4:33 . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself. Thank god for a VPN. You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited. CRASH! You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt? What if he died? “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.”

Pop! Darkness embraced you as you sat there. The lights are out. Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety.

There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading Lord of the Rings to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator. You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable. Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness. How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears. We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- .

“Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets. Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand. A rose.

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How beautiful you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something. Could it be from yourself? “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of course you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up.

The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you knew V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones.

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just knew. You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?” “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. What was he doing? Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off! You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it.

V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.

#v for vendetta #v for vendetta x reader #x reader

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astro-break · 5 years ago

Text

Thoughts on the 12th ep of Hypmic Rhyme Anima. Spoilers beware

Ep.1 | Ep.2 | Ep.3 | Ep.4 & 5 | Ep. 6 | Ep. 7 | Ep. 8 | Ep. 9 | Ep. 10 | Ep. 11

I am the definition of Fear.jpg rn please help

MTR are so cute, just celebrating their win. Look at how happy they are!

... Oh well thats new. I like how Ichijauku has a tiny bit more agency in throwing out ideas (it really shows how close her and otome trust each other) but it also completely retcons a part of hypmic lore that was established with the Drama tracks. If you’ve heard “” then you know what I’m talking about

SMILING DOPPO HOLY SHIT DOPPO

ahaha doppo i love you so much youre so adorable you deserve to be happy

MTR as a family is just soo good. Both as familial or

Hmm.... yes Samatoki has the right to be angry but that flattens him to a good for nothing thinks first asks questions later type of thug which is absolutely not what his character is. Especially with how the anime portrays him, it seems like there's only one emotion that he feels at any moment and that is anger. Which, fair he is an angry boy, but thats just one facet of his character. He’s also logical and not that sore of a loser, seeing that he still has room to grow (if you want an anime example, refer to the previous episode where he genuinely wonders what he could have done to treat Nemu better)

I think my biggest gripe with the adaptation is the flattening of all the characters TBH. I only really see it in Samatoki since I understand his character the most but I also see hints of it with Rio, Hifumi, and Gentaro. Most of the characters are just flattened into 2D tropes and made to act those tropes out. Which, y’know is the basis of each character but the series has built upon each character so well that its kinda jarring seeing them all so flat

I’m not sayin that I hate what the Anime has done with MTC but I hate what the anime has done with MTC

I expected a “Brocon” “Siscon” fight not this. What the fuck

☆ミ＋。゜H A C K I N G ゜。＋ミ☆

ahaha Ichiro you’re too trusting and pure for your own good

Okay why does all the animation budget go to making Samatoki look hot as fuck?

Ahaha they really do get along like cats and dogs. Jyuto being the voice of reason is kinda weird tho but oh well I can live with it

Tom saying “hai warat~e!” is so cute wtf?????? Lemme pet your head please

GENTARO PICKING UP HIS HAKAMA TO RUN IS ADOARBLE HELP ME

Im getting second hand embarrassment from Ramuda lmao

Slightly suspicious about how these group of reporters know the underground layout of Chuuoku so well

Oh well see I was right to be suspicious

That Unit name is really funny considering the whole Galatic Federation thing ahahaha

Oh that english! that was super clean and enunciated really well

Good intentions, bad execution. His reasoning is a bit flawed but its at least sound

hmmm usually I’d be happy about Doppo giving Hifumi his jacket but in this context not so much. See, Doppo gave it to Hifumi mostly because they had to fight, not because there were woman (which let me remind you Hifumi is deathly afraid of and the jacket acts as a wall between him and his gynophobia)

...... uh Interesting choices of microphones for Secret Aliens. Tom’s is a recording studio mic which makes some??? but not much sense. like Tom is a street photographer, not a radio host. Iris’s mic is.... I’m sorry what is that? Some sort of keyboard and.... something. idk what it is on her finger. And T. Rex just ripped out a purple dinosaur spine, stuck a mic onto the neck and called it a day. Nice

At least their speakers are somewhat better. Iris has Iris plants which. hilarious, but also very modern looking and sleek fitting of her more tech savvy nature as a hacker Theres also phone cameras which makes sense but the butterfly imagery which is present .... Fear.jpg. Rex again just went with a T. Rex Speaker which. Thank you rex for being very predictable, we love you so much. That soundwave looks like DNA too which is cool as hell. Tom.... Idk man Tom are you okay? What exactly is your speaker? are they those aperture umbrella things that photographers use? Im so confused, photographers in the fandom please help

YOOOOOOOOO THAT RAP THOUGH IRIS SOUNDS SO PRETTY?!?!?!? Can she please sing me to sleep? its so smooth and rolling. If I had to describe it, I would say that its the type of voice that I would hope would sing the ballads that I compose, the voice of a mother who still holds on to something after loosing everything she has fought for.

Too bad Iris doesn’t get a verse to Rap in but holy shit what? Secret Aliens just might become one of my fave divisions based off song alone

Ah theres the cancellers. Thats fun, nice to see that there isn’t an adaptation induced plot hole in this One instance. Lets see if they can patch up the other plot holes created because the anime and source material went into different places

Dice, bad. no cheating. Bad dice

Ahaha there the flash bomb. That high pitch wailing was awful though. please never do that again

Hah, typical Ichijaku. We love it

Oh look at them. Working together. How cute. I really like Rio and Saburo interactions mostly because theres so much potential

Oh noooo i worry for FP

That growl from Ichijaku though. That did things to my heart oh my god

Aww I do like that enthusiasm from Ramuda. I do hope that things turn out at least somewhat okay for him. He’ll probably suffer

Wait why is Saburo’s left eye purple? Is it the lighting or something else? I hope its just the lighting bc if anything happens to Saburo i will be very very sad (I rewatched the episode and Saburo’s eye is blue all the way up till he gets hit by Secret Alien’s attack. Even in a brightly lit area, it looks purple... i hope it isn’t forshadowing but then again Saburo’s eye has always been a darker shade of blue so it could just be the yellowish lighting since Ichiro’s red eye looks fuchsia)

Ichijaku with an angry face is kinda hot ahaha. Her deep rolling voice of anger just. Ugh very very good. Major props to her VA for pulling it off

IM FUCKING SORRY WHAT

YOU CAN”T LEAVE US ON THAT CLIFF HANGER?!

WHAT THE FUCK

IM GOING TO GO INSANE

THAT WASN’T EVEN SATISFYING?!?!?!

WHAT THE FUCK

KING RECORDS E X P L A I N

I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION

oh there’s a 13th ep

well thank fuck for a 13th ep bc if they ended the season like that i think id actually cry lol

Ugh so I guess that next week will be the last episode. I was so prepared for today to be the last episode but its kinda surprising that they have 13, slightly different from the normal season

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic rhyme anima #hypmic spoilers

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