#old draft I didn't post

[gemraldkid]

So, he believes that all his actions are justified because he can effectively erase said actions when he obtains his goal? If I recall correctly, wasn’t that the plan of Nox in Wakfu?

Aaaand we're back bby~!

Pages 485-489

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[gemraldkid]

I’d just like to congratulate the localization team for coming up with these names.

C Moon as See Moon Made in Heaven as Maiden Heaven

We understand you work with what you get. Good job on somewhat cheating out of the copyright issue with names that are more-or-less pronounced exactly the same.

[screwpinecaprice]

Showing something from her tab, sharing knowledge like how to pirate stuff, all the important Earth things to know.

A little 2017 doodle I forgot in my drafts.

[aikakuu]

you touch me like you're learning how to lose me

[laser-tripwires]

At what point do you think Eliot fully trusted each member of the team? Do you think Sophie was the last, given what happened at the end of season 1?

i think people get the meaning of that line wrong, where eliot implies he doesn't trust sophie. to quote john rogers on the matter:

and yeah, exactly. i think the same basic principle applies to the rest of the team. eliot is never going to trust any of them fully - that's not his job. his job is to backup, is being a failsafe, and that means having some working knowlege of where everyone is likely to slip up.

heck, look at the R2 finale. that plays out how it did precisely because eliot didn't trust sophie, eliot knew she was at risk of cutting arthur way too much slack. it's not a personal slight on sophie; he just knows her. he knows all of them. knows their strengths, knows their weaknesses, knows who he can lean on for what. sometimes they surprise him - but you have to remember that on the whole, eliot is an extremely emotionally intelligent character. he's pissed at sophie at the end of season one, and to be honest it's justified - but what it does is inform the limits of what trust he does have in sophie, and that's important. prior to it, it's not that he did implicitly trust her in those areas - just that that was yet to be decided. part of getting to know people is filling out those blindspots.

that said, i think there is definitely a period of time wherein eliot's still growing into working with a team. but by the time events hit the point in the show where things truly are down to the wire, he's got the beats of everything down. look at how neat and tidy his plan is in the zanzibar marketplace job - look at what he offers to do in maltese falcon - look at just the WHOLE of gone fishing, and the fact that he doesn't cut and run as other events in season three progress.

[deoidesign]

One of my first digital pieces (2010) versus one of my recent ones (2024)

We all start somewhere!

[harbingersecho]

but you gotta give up something to get something

[krekee]

[elvisabutler]

availability

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 3094 warnings: possessiveness. allusions to cheating. slight public play/voyueristic vibes. elvis being elvis. reader not necessarily being the most demure sort of gal. unprotected p in v, y'all know the drill. a bit of fingering. a bit of jerking off. minor truly blink and miss it breeding kink LIKE I HESITATE TO EVEN CALL IT THAT. but just in case! author’s note: welcome to day 16 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, possessive/possession kink with 50s elvis. so. funny story this has been partially written since before i dropped off the face of the planet. so if it sounds a little like it was written not in one go, you're correct. consider this an exercise in seeing if i've forgotten how to write. if y'all want more, i've got things so many things like written just not finished. so we'll see what i can do. with a side of at this point i'm not against just throwing my written chunks of stuff out there. also, word to the wise, one bedroom apartments are not fun with toddlers. and trying to move up in your career/get more money at your job does always come with fun stipulations that include AH LET US MAKE SURE YOU'RE THE ONE FOR THE JOB. saints help me it's been a pain.

You've dated boys before, dated them and watched them have wandering eyes and allowed yourself to have a wandering eye. A little tit for tat, you reckon, but even when they get angry about it, they just break things off. Tell you that if you can't be faithful then there's no use dating you. The irony's never lost on you, how you have to pure and virginal and the pinnacle of charm while every boy just has to exist and smile at a girl for them to fall to pieces over them. It doesn't matter though, you're the sort of girl who can charm the right sort of boy that you want.

Of course, you never really thought you could pull in Elvis Presley. Maybe before he was famous, when he was just a nervous little boy in Memphis. But as soon as they started playing his records all across the United States? Oh that was supposed to be a lost cause, a foregone wish upon a star. Yet, here you were, dating him and falling faster and faster into a hole you're thinking is deep unending love for this man. If you could, if he'd let you- you'd be going on tour with him. You'd find yourself in a cramped little car with him and the boys just so you could make sure he's yours. The first tour he had to take right after you kissed for the time almost ended up with you in the car because he was worried you'd forget about him while he was gone.

As if you could forget those plush lips that molded so perfectly against your own mouth. As if you could forget those plush lips that left a hickey or five across your breasts and one plainly on your neck. It might have painted you to be a bit of a harlot and a loose girl, but you couldn't have cared. Not when you were dating Elvis Presley. Not when you had what other girls begged and prayed for at the sides of their beds every night.

The funny thing about dating Elvis though, the funny thing you never thought would be an issue is that other men seemed to take it as a challenge. Those same boys who would cast you aside for having a wandering eye if they were with you wanted you to look their way.

Elvis isn't around, they'd joke as they'd place unwanted hands on your arm.

You deserve a guy who's dependable and here with you, they'd tell you with smiles that never quite reach their eyes.

You deserve a guy who'd never cheat on you or look at another girl, they'd assure you and it was always then that you laughed.

Elvis always promises to tell you what happens on the road and he knows better. There was one time he had slipped and even though you never take a man back after he slips like that, you do it for Elvis. Not because you lower your standards, but because it doesn't happen in front of you. You aren't forced to face the girl he thinks is prettier every single day. Besides, his apology when he arrived home more than made up for it.

Elvis is due to come back today and he's told you a million and one times about the night he has planned for the two of you, one with friends a good ole time before the two of you would run and retreat away to his bedroom. Sure, his mama might have something to say about it, but you're his girl and you make him as happy as anything. She wouldn't tell you to go home or sleep in another room.

The problem is that the world doesn't always run on Elvis time and how sometimes trips on the road take just a little longer than they should so you have to be a good host with his mama. You're in a dress you bought especially for Elvis's homecoming and it fits you in the way you know he likes. In a way you know most men like, but that's just something you have to live with for right now. Besides, you figure no one would be stupid enough to try anything now that Elvis is right in front of them.

You probably should have known better.

The whistle is what catches your attention first, your ears and body well trained to hear and to turn at Elvis's low whistle when it came to your body.

"You only wear things like that for him?" You hear the man say before you fully turn around and realize that it's not Elvis whistling for you at all. You think it's one of his friends- more like an acquaintance you imagine but you've learned it's best not to ask Elvis about how he knows some people after the last time both you and his mama ended up wondering who someone was at what was supposed to be a neighborly affair.

Your jaw tightens just a hair before you manage to smile the sort of pretty smile that's at least somewhat expected of you as a good Southern girl. "Considerin' we're goin' steady I'd hope so. Bet your girl'd do the same thing."

"Only girl I want-" He starts to tell you before you see his eyes widen just a hair and you feel a firm grip around your waist. "Elvis- I-"

"I heard ya. Heard the whistle, too." Elvis's voice is pitched low in a way you're not quite used to hearing. Against your will, you feel goosebumps cover your skin as a rush of desire swoops low in your stomach. "Didn't ya mama teach ya to not steal? Know you've been to church 'nough to learn it at least."

The man for a moment looks offended and as if he wants to fight or argue with Elvis before he grits his teeth. "I wasn't- You know I wouldn't do that. She's your girl, even if you leave her alone like you do."

Against your neck you feel the warmth of Elvis's exhale against your skin, knowing that was the wrong thing for the man to say. Knowing that short of insulting his mama pointing out that Elvis has to leave you to go on tour to make money for himself and his family was the worst thing he could have done. Your hand moves to grasp at Elvis's own only to be rebuffed as Elvis moves from behind you.

"Do I know ya wouldn't do that? Thought I could trust ya t'come to my homecomin', thought ya wouldn't try anythin' with my girl. Not that she'd want anythin' from ya, not when she's got me, right darlin'?" He glances back at you with eyes darker than you've ever seen them. A rough exhale leaves your body before you nod.

"Not a damn thing."

Elvis's lips curl into a bit of a smile before he turns back to the man. "Ya heard it straight from her lips. Now, get outta here or 'm gonna have to- Gonna have to make her watch me hit ya or somethin'."

Normally Elvis trying to act tough and rough like he's James Dean or Marlon Brando wouldn't excite you but there's something about the way the man walks off that has your body heating up and your breath exiting your body in pants. Your eyes glance around to see if anyone's watching what just happened only to find that everyone is too preoccupied with food and talking among each other.

"Sorry 'bout that darlin'-" Elvis starts to speak, apologizing in a murmur as if anyone else hearing it would cause a scene. He stops when he notices how you're breathing. How your eyes are looking at him and he can't help but smirk just a little. "Somethin' wrong?"

Somethin' wrong, he asks, like he can't half read you like a book when you get aroused. Any other time and you're certain you'd likely find some way to wipe that little smirk off his face. Right now? You manage a slight glare at his plush lips before your arm moves up to pull at Elvis's shirt just a tiny bit. That tiny bit is just enough to have his lips hovering over yours.

"Only thing that was wrong just left." You pause, exhaling ever so softly. "But he might still be watching."

One of Elvis's eyebrows shoots up slowly before he chuckles, moving the two of you just enough so that his mouth slides against yours in what he means to be a soft gentle kiss. You don't want a soft gentle kiss though, and can't help the way your tongue presses against the seam of his lips, almost pleading for entry. He answers your plea quicker than you think he will, opening his mouth just so and sliding his tongue against yours. Your teeth move to nip at his lips, wanting to make them red as you do when the two of you are alone. The two of you are in public and that should remind you that you should stop, that you should have some form of decorum so that you aren't making an utter fool of yourself in front of his mother and in front of everyone and yet as you feel his hands move down your body you forget about that. The press of his hands against your torso, grasping as if he's scared you'll disappear have you forgetting that with every passing millisecond.

A quiet whine leaves your lips as he pulls away, his chest not quite heaving in an effort to catch the breath you've stolen from him with your mouth. His eyes dance across your face and down your body before he pulls you close again, not to kiss you but to whisper something to you.

"You're all mine, ain't ya?" There's an undertone that sounds like he's not sure of himself and yet at the same time, he utters it not like the question it is, but like it's a definitive fact. "Always gonna be mine even if I ain't here to fight 'em off?"

Being demure isn't your strong suit but something about those words, something about hearing those words come from Elvis who can be such a shy man despite every single thing he does on stage has you batting your eyelashes like you've seen your friends do a million times before. A nod follows. "Of course. I might not- I might not have your ring 'round my neck, but I am." Your teeth start to worry at your lip, nipping at it in a minor fit of nervousness. "But it- It wouldn't hurt to show people right now that I'm yours. Just by taking me away for a little bit."

Elvis blinks at you, almost as if he's confused before that smirk he had when you first kissed him slides back onto his face. "Darlin', are ya tryin' to get me to leave my own party? That my mama's at? That ya spent so long puttin' together?"

The speed at which your answer comes out of your mouth should embarrass you but there's something about Elvis that sometimes does this to you. That sometimes has that embarrassment sliding right out the window. "I am. I am because now I'm- I'm a bit- I've missed you. And-"

A low laugh leaves his lips. "And what we do together? Missed having to cover up my kisses with make up? Missed walkin' a little crooked?"

You feel your face at heat up at the implication of his last words even as you shift in place just a little. "I mean, if you don't want to give me that- I can go to him instead. I think I can-"

If you didn't know any better you'd have sworn you hear a growl that has you stopping your words dead in their tracks before Elvis practically bellows to everyone. "We'll be right back, gotta- Gotta have a private conversation with my girl."

There's a murmur amongst the crowd and as you pass by Mrs. Presley you swear you hear her sigh so deeply at his actions that you know you will never live this down. Any dread you have for that future talking to his quickly pushed to the side as Elvis grips your hand and practically drags you to the house and up the stairs. You barely get inside the bedroom before you feel his hands moving to push up your dress and find their way under your underwear.

"Mama- Darlin'- This all for me?" He croons, moving his fingers in between your legs in a way that has you curling your toes. "How- How long you been-"

A kiss from you cuts off his question as you moan a little into it. Your hands move to undo his belt, trying to free his uncut length from the confines of his pants. "Since you told- Since you made him leave."

Him, the man who thought he could move in on you because Elvis wasn't there. Him, who thought Elvis wasn't as possessive as you were. Him, who thought you were easy pickings.

"Oh darlin'," Elvis groans a little as your hand wraps around his cock, pulling back the skin slowly. "Let- Let me show them whose you are. Let me show'em you're all mine. Gonna always be mine."

You hum and laugh a little at the words. Was there ever really any doubt you were his? That you would always be his? Maybe in his mind and maybe in yours for a while there was, but- now it seems silly. It seems so silly that you're gonna run off with someone or that even if he's got a million flings on the road that he'll run off with them. Your eyes meet Elvis's blue ones and for a moment you see doubt written clear as day in them. See Elvis acting like the shy boy his mama swears he's been once upon a time. His mouth starts to open, and you silence whatever words were about to escape with a kiss and a tightening of your grip on his cock.

"Show 'em. I'll- I can be loud for 'em. Let 'em hear what you do to me." You mutter as you pull away from the kiss panting.

Elvis smirks like he sometimes does on stage to get all those girls riled up as he lifts you up with a slight grunt and pushes you against the door of the room. "Yeah? Gonna make everyone jealous?"

The words you want to say die on your lips as his lips start to make their way across your neck, nipping and sucking along it and down to your chest while he enters you with a swiftness that has you letting out a loud moan. You think it ought to sting just from how you haven't enjoyed him for a while and how girthy he feels and yet it doesn't. All you feel is the pleasure of cock against your clit and inside your vagina. There's a bit of a noise that you don't realize what it is until you realize it's coming from between your legs every time he moves his cock in and out.

A groan leaves Elvis's mouth when he looks down and realizes the same thing you did. "Makin'- Gonna ruin these pants with all that." The words are stuttered out against your chest as you let out a laugh that quickly turns into another moan as you try and grab at his back, your nails digging into the skin through his shirt just a bit.

"That's- The point." You whimper as you feel your walls start to flutter around him and feel your clit pulsing. "Gotta- God- E-"

The words feel like mush trying to come out your mouth as your brain zeroes in on the feel of Elvis's cock in you, the pants of his breath and the grunts and groans you know everyone can hear. The two of you should be quieter but you can't. You want everyone to know you're his and he's yours as you both come. Still, you know he can't come inside you- not yet, not unless there's a ring on your finger. His parents and your parents can forgive a lot but not that. You move to yank at his hair just slightly, your toes curling at the whine that leaves his lips at the sensation of being pulled away from your chest.

"What're ya-" He starts before you shake your head.

"You gotta pull out. Gotta make sure you do. Can't possess me like that just yet." Your voice is a whisper against his lips as you kiss him once more. "Don't- don't do it."

Elvis's breath comes out in a harsh exhale through his nose at the comment and you swear you hear him grumble something about how he ought to possess you like that, how you'd look good like that and how no one'd think you're not his with that. He does what you ask though, even as your vagina clenches around his cock only for it to be replaced by his fingers. A shudder runs through you as his thumb presses against your clit and his fingers curl just enough for you to shout out his name despite trying to muffle it.

As you feel yourself trembling you can hear the slide of Elvis's hand against his cock and within moments you feel the warm sensation of his cum against your lower stomach and your pubic bone. You shouldn't find it arousing and yet, the feeling has your clit aching as if you hadn't already come just a minute before.

It takes a few minutes of the two of you just panting and trying to catch your bearings against the door before either one of you says another word.

"I should clean-" You start before Elvis cuts you off.

"No. You're- You're gonna pull up your underwear and you're gonna stay like that till tonight. Till all of 'em are gone. Gotta- Gotta make sure they know."

Your mouth opens to tell him no, and then you feel how his grip tightens on your body just a tad. He had been away from you for so long and well- maybe this wasn't the worst thing for you to give to him.

"You gonna clean me up later?" A simple question that you ask while looking down at his lips.

"Every last drop, darlin'."

there is no tag list because I DON'T EVEN REALLY REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I POSTED FIC. also real talk if this doesn't go into the tags watch me delete this and repost it.

[padiduys]

Pretty specific trope of drawing Leclerc family in Javanese traditional outfit (Beskap) aka my favourite traditional outfit.

Might aswell just put some real life picture of beskap to promote my own culture

[wildwood-faun]

The Sectional System of Gentlemen's Garment Cutting (1894)

All right, let's get this show on the road.

This is the first part in a series of posts where I share links to historical dress resources that I find useful or interesting. As I said in this post, I will probably be sharing everything from books and academic papers to tutorials and shops. I already feel that some sources will prompt other types of sources; for instance, the book I'm sharing here is one that I have used, so I know it's workable. However, I think it would be quite difficult to use without knowing some basics of pattern drafting, so I'll try to share things like that in the future as well, even if they aren't specifically about making historical clothing.

Oh and I'm personally super interested in historical dress in general, so this won't be centered around any one era. Feel free to send me an ask if there is something you're particularly interested in and I'll see if I have anything useful. I'm starting out with this book in particular because the first person who had input requested late Victorian tailoring and it's extra fun to be able to share something you have personal experience with.

The Sectional System of Gentlemen's Garment Cutting is one of many books that can be downloaded for free from the Antique Pattern Library. I love that site, even if it can be a little overwhelming to browse. I'll probably be posting some other favourites from there later on, but take this post as a blanket recommendation. They have pattern books for all kinds of crafts going all the way back to the 17th century and while a lot of it is lace and needlework, there are sewing guides in there as well, and this is one of them.

I used this book a couple of years ago to make a waistcoat (featured here). I will refrain from listing my mistakes here and simply say that it really turned out very decent, considering I'd never sewn a waistcoat before and was going through a bad case of I'm not reading all that. There's a short write-up of the process here with links to a couple of supplemental resources!

[throughthelookingmax]

I made a collage of my favourite person and I! ( ^ _ ^ )

[emohairminghao]

SVT as quotes from my friends pt 8

Seungcheol: “Everyone has their arbitrary lines in the sand, and this is going to be one of mine.”

Jeonghan: “I don’t enable! I inspire!”

Joshua: “That would be hypocrisy, and you know what they say about that: it’s bad for the skin.”

Junhui: “Ha, yeah, I look professional, but I’m wearing leggings and fuzzy socks under these slacks.”

Soonyoung: “I’ve just encountered a new emoticon and I need you to tell me what it means.”

Wonwoo: “CATS. DO NOT. PHOTOSYNTHESIZE.”

Jihoon: “You can’t go Black Friday shopping. It would be too easy to step on you while looking for a toaster or something.”

Seokmin: “Yeah, so since I couldn’t drive, I got good at navigating. It was like The Karate Kid, only with giving directions.”

Mingyu: “Stop making me laugh! You’ll ruin my face mask!”

Minghao: “If anything other than me is haunting a building, I can't be there.”

Seungkwan: “Singing is my natural state.”

Hansol: “That wasn’t a segue. That was more of a verbal PowerPoint transition.”

Chan: “I’m still internally screaming and I will be until further notice.”

Seventeen as quotes from my friends

[amphibia-a-day]

Day 1095 of Amphibia Screenshots

Episode: Escape to Amphibia

[flow2024]

@materassassino sent me a prompt but in my exhaustion and lack of brain cells i answered the ask without writing the actual thing and then deleted it so. oops.

but the prompt was extremely sleepy Nicky is different from normal Nicky, so have a very silly little thing

"Leave him alone," Joe is saying without any real annoyance, "it's the deepest he's slept in weeks." He's in one of the armchairs, ignoring the book on his lap in favour of Andy, who's perched on the arm of the couch.

When Nile gets close enough to see over the back of the couch she has to blink a couple times: it's Nicky, completely passed out, currently with three books balanced on his chest while Andy holds a fourth. They rise and fall as he breathes. He's completely dead to the world.

"Is he asleep?" Nile asks, because she still can't quite believe that Nicky, of all people, is sleeping through that. Andy places the fourth book with careful precision and reaches for a fifth.

The thing is, Nicky has a hair trigger for being woken up. Nile learned this a week after meeting him, when she startled him by walking into the living room of their most recent safehouse while he was sleeping on the couch (on watch, but she'd forgotten) and he'd already been reaching for the gun on the side table before she realised he was even there, and then he'd apologised for the gun thing, and told her he hadn't "learned what her footsteps sound like" yet.

After a while he'd stopped going for the weapons whenever she surprised him, but he'd still wake at the slightest sound. Andy's got a similar thing going, but she's a little bit slower, whereas Joe does wake fast, but definitely isn't all the way alert the way Nicky is.

She'd wondered if it was down to what happened in Goussainville, but when she'd finally worked up the courage to ask, because she was starting to wonder if he ever actually slept properly, Joe had just laughed and said he'd always been like that.

But once Andy had decided that the loose ends from Merrick had been sufficiently tied up, she'd called for a couple weeks of downtime, and before that Nicky had been on recon duty, sleeping even less and even worse than usual. So she's not surprised he's sleeping: she's surprised he's still asleep.

"Pass me a couple more," Andy says to Joe, who sighs, but does grab two from nearby and pass them over.

Nile looks between them, and then at Nicky. "That's not gonna wake him up?"

Joe chuckles. "Not when he's like this," he says. "He won't wake for another hour or two. Definitely not until dinner."

Nile blinks at him. Joe, sure, she could believe. Andy, too - Nile's pretty sure she sleeps more during the day than she does at night. She's almost as bad as Nicky for lurking in dark rooms at night. But Nicky?

"He doesn't do this very often," Joe explains. "But the rest of us are awake, and everything's dealt with, for now, so he's comfortable enough."

"Booker built an entire house of cards on him, once," Andy says. "Record for books is, what, nineteen?"

"Eighteen," Joe says. "2012."

Andy places a sixth book and reaches for a seventh. Nile thinks for a moment.

"Only eighteen?" she says.

Andy's grin can only be described as wicked. "That's the spirit," she says. "Pass me another."

Nicky wakes at twenty-one, prompting the entire pile to crash onto the floor, which makes him scramble upright until his brain comes all the way back online, at which point he clocks why the three of them are laughing so hard there are tears in Joe's eyes, and curses them out in five languages.

But he's smiling while he does it, all the same.

[teh-nos]

deleting tumblr posts because i only wanted to vent to about 12 people not get into stupid fights with an entire website for the rest of my fucking life.