#I love a drapey man

[excuseme-greentea]

insp. 🫶🏻

[rendiggitydog]

So @ectoslab shared their Empire!sona recently and the outfit slapped and I love Ecto and I needed to draw them

[aclowntiny]

Hihi

I’ve been thinking of requesting something for a while and saw ur recent post which reminded me to. Congrats on 400! ☺️

I’d like to request a meeting pirate!Ateez reaction, or if you’re not vibing with that Ateez sharing clothes with their s/o (either s/o wearing their clothes or them wearing their s/o’s clothes, I think both are cute!)

Thanks so much for your work and no pressure at all! Your stuff always makes me happy when it comes up on my timeline 🫶🫶

Thank you so much sweetie! Yes, I’m so glad you requested ☺️ that makes me so happy to hear you don’t even know 🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕 I love this idea so without further ado…

(I’m sorry for how delayed this was! The other one will just be on a separate imagine hehe 🏴‍☠️)

Ateez Sharing Clothes With Their S/O

Hongjoong

♡ Oh you know this man will lend you anything out of his closet you need to complete your look 👀 If you’re down for it, Hongjoong would enjoy being the one to dress you just to admire how amazing you look and hope you see it too! Every time he dresses you he tries to balance things he wants to see you in, your own style/tastes, and of course including at least one piece of his!

♡ Seeing you in his jacket? Heaven. You are not accepting any jackets from any other men, only his 😤 but don’t worry he’ll smile so big and give you heart eyes the whole time he drapes it over you, handing the other member’s jacket back.

♡ The more pieces he lends you, the more you appear outwardly his, and that makes his heart go crazy. He’ll get extra affectionate and protective, wrapping an arm around you and placing kisses on your cheek. “That looks better on you than on me,” he’ll tell you with a cheeky grin, sliding his arm around your waist.

♡ Slides a ring off his hand and onto yours 💗

♡ But also highkey if he likes a piece of your jewelry he may ask to borrow it!!! What, it would go perfectly with these shoes!

Seonghwa

♡ Some of Seonghwa’s clothes just become yours because he gives you his sweater when you’re cold and then lets you keep it 🥺

♡ Sweaters are his favorite because you look so cute and cozy in them! Especially if the sleeves are long on you and you do sweater paws, that’s just the cutest thing in the world to him! He’ll sometimes hold your hands through the sweater paws so you both get warm hands~

♡ Goofball steals a pair of your fuzzy socks one day because he likes them and you tease him that ew, don’t take those, now they’re ruined, but in reality the pattern just suits him more and he looks so cute in your fluffy little garments that you have to give him a kiss~

♡ You two basically trade pieces of jewelry, like he gets one of your favorite rings and you get one of his- it's yours and Seonghwa's version of swapping sim card trays!

♡ If you put on one of his shirts without him knowing, he'll come up behind you, arms snaking around you, and start teasing you. "Well, this is a nice shirt- where did you find this, hm?"

Yunho

♡ You didn’t know there was an upgrade to being given your boyfriend’s jacket but here we are: being given your boyfriend’s suit jacket.

♡ Yunho and you were attending a formal event and, well, he had a suit jacket and you didn’t, so when you got cold, he was draping you with designer formalwear of all things. You couldn’t help reaching up to feel the shoulders, smiling shyly. “You look great, maybe you should keep it.” Yunho winks, then laughs in spite of himself.

♡ You prefer his jackets, he prefers your scarves. What, they smell like you and are way softer than his big ol thick one?

♡ Sometimes you, instead of looking through a mess of clothing or just because you need a shirt, you grab one of Yunho’s button-ups and throw it on.

♡ Yunho.exe has stopped working. His hands will be on you faster than you can say Timbuktu 👀

Yeosang

♡ You got this huge fluffy wonderful robe drapey fleece cloud of a garment for bedtime when it was cold, and little did you know your boyfriend was going to fall in love with it.

♡ He asked to try it on, and the moment it covered him he pulled it tight, falling backwards onto the bed in bliss. Sure, you’d bought it for yourself, but Yeosang looked so cute, how could you say no?

♡ Compromise achieved: Yeosang wears the open-faced fleece wonder, you just lay on his chest and get wrapped up in it too 🩷

♡ You jokingly stole one of his sweaters as ‘revenge’, pulling it on to see how he reacted, if he fought you on it.

♡ Spoiler alert: he did not, only burst into a shy, loving smile and pull you into his side for a hug, telling you you’re so cute 🥺 you should’ve known with how much it takes to make him mad!

San

♡ Does that corny thing where he wraps both of you in one long scarf. You can hardly walk but it’s ok because San is so cute as he nuzzles into you from above the soft knit 💔

♡ You also wear his gloves a lot because you forget them so San throws an extra pair in his pockets just for you! His gloves are way softer than yours anyway.

♡ One day, you throw on one of his infamous muscle shirts and flex, both of you laughing but also…San’s lowkey blushing at the sight of you like that 🤭

♡ All of a sudden he’s stammering out ‘u-uh if you want that you can keep it. I mean it just looks really, really good and…’

♡ Since you liked his winter coat last season, he starts shopping for another in your favorite color and material so you can steal it. Smiles with such joy and pride as he drapes the garment over you, helping you into the sleeves, and you gush over how cozy it feels and how much you love it. Mission success.

Mingi

♡ You needed a shirt one day after swimming, so Mingi gave you an extra t-shirt. Joke was on him, though- you just wanted a Mingi shirt 😈

♡ The next time you guys hang out, you’re wearing it and his jaw drops at the way it fits your body, having not really seen it beneath the night sky and your towel the first time.

♡ Arms go right around your middle immediately, you are trapped in Mingi’s embrace don’t try to get out it’s impossible 😤 well ok it’s possible but then he’ll be sad 🥺

♡ Starts lifting it up slightly as if he thinks something different from usual is going to be under there lmao. Smiles so wide, loving, cheeky, and blissful all in one almost no matter how you react to that.

♡ You start surprising him by stealing his clothes and wearing them since you got such a good reaction the first time! Most of the time he just lets you keep them as long as he can get his hands on you~

Wooyoung

♡ Bro he steals your clothes

♡ Loves the way they smell! If you can’t see each other for any extended amount of time beyond, like, a few days or a week he wants something of yours to have with him because your scent helps him fall asleep. Also guilty of cuddling your clothes and pretending you’re there 😅

♡ He loves putting his clothes on you, especially tighter stuff from on-stage, and then telling you how hot you look in them! Buys you similar things to keep afterward even if you just wear them for him 👀

♡ Lives for corny couple outfits, so expect him to buy two of things so you can both wear it or give you something of his so that he can dress to complement! You'll probably have to stop him from straight-up just buying those corny shirts that say 'yours' and 'mine' or 'I'm his! I'm hers!' type of stuff because Wooyoung that's silly!!!

♡ You give him one of your favorite bracelets he's mentioned liking before to wear so he has a piece of you and Wooyoung just melts. Never takes that thing off unless he's showering or something. No other bracelets exist in Jung Wooyoung's eyes.

Jongho

♡ You guys are engaged in a jesting war over jacket custody

♡ He gave it to you one cold evening and you loved it so much, you joked about never wanting to give it back and he protested, laughing as you pouted, and you dug in your heels until you two were laughing like dorks over nothing. Now you two alternate wearing it a lot, but Jongho remains insistent that it’s his, you just take care of it.

♡ He steals and tries on a hat of yours one day, and as much as you laugh you think it suits him pretty well; suddenly the hat gets joint custody too.

♡ It may sound odd, but he gives you an old necklace of his he doesn't wear much anymore because he likes more traditional gifts like jewelry and then you'll have a memento of him! You're like sorry this is way less sentimental I got you a new watch lmao but don't worry, he needed one and he loves it 😊

♡ The one day you grab one of his shirts, though, something snaps in him and he can’t stop staring. You ask him what, starting to apologize for taking it, but he just shakes his head and holds up a halting hand. “No, don’t be sorry. I really like seeing you this way,” he says, eyes sweeping before meeting yours again.

[thefishermansharbor]

Poisonous Jealousy, 

The Arcana x GN!Reader 

Synopsis: Headcanons about Lucio, Asra, and Portia feeling jealous of how their partner acts with someone. 

Asra Alnazar:

Unlike how the rest of his personality is, Asra gets jealous easily and often. He can’t help his possessiveness, so he doesn’t act on it often. He’s good at containing himself.

Asra feels a big deal of guilt for all of his envy, and whether you mind or not, he worries it’ll make you feel uncomfortable or controlled. 

He respects you and trusts you to not cheat on him but still he can’t help but overthink a bit before ultimately intercepting. 

Still feels guilty about it even if you say he was doing you a favor. 

You smile warmly at the shopper. “ Let me know if I can help you find anything, sweetie!” 

Asra knew that this wasn’t special, and that you called everyone nicknames – but the way the stranger seemed to enjoy it got under his skin. He couldn’t help but curl his hands into fists as he watched the stranger’s expression twitch into a smirk. 

The stranger had a likeness to your lover, except the stranger was taller, and had a mischievous feeling to him. The man spoke, 

“ I was just wondering what time you got off work.” 

Asra knows you’d never ever cheat on him, but his blood boils. There’s a slim slick feeling in the back of his mind as he watches the stranger inch closer to you. He can’t help himself but intervene. 

He walks right in between you and the man, throwing his arm over your shoulder and giving your cheek a quick kiss. The man rolls his eyes, suddenly moving backwards. 

“ I’m sorry to say that my PARTNER here will be busy with me after their shift. Maybe another time.” Asra offers the man a polite smile, but under it he’s practically seething with disgust for the stranger. 

The man shakes his head in distaste, a little humiliated. “ – yeah whatever, I wasn’t that interested in you anyways.” He leaves the drapey magic shop, Asra’s grip on you only tightening while the man walks out. 

“ What was that about?” You ask. 

“ Sorry, I really didn’t like how close he was getting. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” In part, this statement is true.. But the bigger reason behind it was to satisfy that possessiveness that had been crawling around in the back of his mind. You shrug, and he kisses you quickly. He trusts you.

Portia Devorak:

She doesn’t get jealous at all. Actually, she prides herself on the trust she has for you. She lets almost anything slide, as long as the person she’s jealous of isn’t physically or emotionally hurting you.

But if it’s a particularly bad day and someone is really bothering her - she’ll try to one-up them in some shape or form. They’re talking about how good they are at darts? She’s better and she’ll prove she is. 

She also does something nice for you, to prove that she’s the better lover than whoever the other person is. 

She’s passive aggressive because she doesn’t want to be outright rude to another person for the reason being only that they were hitting on you.

One of the other pirates was bragging to you about his exceptional axe-throwing skill. From what Portia could see, you were interested in the conversation and were happy to hear it. 

Portia smiled, she was so glad you were bonding with the ship crew. But then again, she couldn’t help this inkling of a feeling. Was she jealous? No, no.. she trusted you. She just couldn’t help but think about it. The other pirate was your type, and was far more reliable than the mischievous Portia. 

She runs the situation over in her head - she was pretty good at axe - throwing, and she could probably take him in a competition.. She walked over and sat down next to the two of you. 

“ Hi my love! What’re you guys up to?” She said excitedly. You began to speak, but the pirate cut you off. 

“ I was just telling this beauty,” He winked at you, “ about my expertise.” Portia nodded, her hand taking yours and squeezing it gently. “ – how great!” She smiled so wide it could’ve been a frown. 

“ What are you an expert on, then?” She asks.

“ Ax - throwing.” He said proudly, crossing his arms. Portia’s eyes narrowed, still holding that forced smile. “ GREAT. Just GREAT. Should we do a bit of that, then?” 

“ That's maybe not the safest idea.” You offer sheepishly. The tension in the area pooling, Portia looks at you. 

“ you’re right. Do I ever tell you how smart you are, my love? You’re just brilliant!” She says loudly. The other pirate seemed to be starting to get the hint now. But Portia kept going, 

“ You’re also a brilliant kisser. You’re so sweet to me, you’re the best partner I could ask for.” She exclaims, extra sweetly. The other pirate seems a little unsure of himself now, his eyes running around the room. 

“ – so, back to you.” Portia said finally, looking back at the other pirate. He stands and brushes himself off, “ well, maybe I should uh.. Leave you two for a moment.” 

She nods, and waits for him to leave before kissing you. She felt like a winner when she did that, as if it was some sort of ‘ impress my lover! ‘ challenge that she had won. 

Lucio Morgasson:

Will laugh it off at first. But if that person makes you uncomfortable - god forbid, he will cause a scene. 

This grown man will do literally ANYTHING to get whoever was hitting on you to leave you alone. I kid you not, this grown man will bark at someone in order for them to get away from you.

He loves you and would do whatever needed to protect you or your honor, but also a bit of his own pride and jealousy can get in the way when he tries to intercept anyone trying to romance you in front of him. 

Lucio accepts that you wouldn’t two-time him, but he wouldn’t mind showing off in front of you. He likes it when you’re proud of him. 

You were at one of Lucio’s famously good parties. Everyone was happy and excited, dancing and twirling. You were talking to a foreign diplomat, drink in hand. 

She smiled widely at you. Most of your conversation was about Vesuvia, but it started to edge onto a bit of flirting.. 

“ I knew Vesuvia to be the home of marvelous talent, but I didn’t know it was such a hotspot for gorgeous people like yourself,” She smiled, twirling her hair and being extra sweet with you. Lucio had been partying loudly and proudly like he always does, when he caught sight of you being a little too friendly with one of the guests. 

He walked over, he thought it was a hilarious and desperate attempt from the diplomat to secure some false friendship. He chuckled to himself, she couldn’t possibly be serious… but then she was. 

She was raving to you about how spectacular of a conversation partner you were, and Lucio felt.. Embarrassed? Were you liking it? Would she be better than him for you? Before his thoughts can cloud him, he walks over and smirks at the both of you. 

“ How’s the party going?” He asks you. You smile and speak, “ I’m just chatting around, meet my friend, she’s very sweet–” Lucio’s temper breaks, and he takes a deep breath. 

He picks you up. Completely up, as if you weigh nothing. “ I LOVE YOU!” He then shouts. A couple guests look over at you three, but most shove it off and go back to whatever they were doing. 

The diplomat just sort of stares, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. She doesn’t know what to make of this, so she goes quiet. Lucio then carefully places you down, and glares at her. 

“ .. sooo, your name?” He says almost bitterly. She stutters out a response, but it’s unintelligible and really quiet. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, the diplomat walks off defeatedly. Lucio grins, he thinks to himself, that’s a job well done.

[lurveinn]

I’m so curious about Wizarding fashion. JKR isn’t very physically descriptive- we just know that wizards wear robes, which are outlandish to muggles, and pointy hats, but what does that really mean? What kind of robe? Magical fashion clearly isn’t very gendered, since Harry remarks on a man at the Quidditch World Cup wearing a dress and insisting that it’s unisex (certainly not the case in Britain at the time), but we don’t have any other parameters. Keeping in mind the uniform from the movies, and the fact that in SWM, Snape isn’t wearing any trousers, here’s what I think wizards wear:

1. Flowing silhouettes and cloaks; clearly, wizards love a good statement cloak. Think tassels and frills (not like Ron’s Yule Ball fit!), massive extended sleeves and lots of draping.

2. Skirts: let’s be honest, just one singular robe, without any layering, doesn’t give us much to work with. Skirts go with the general silhouette, explain why the World Cup wizard thought muggle men wore dresses, and keep with the no-trousers thing from SWM. I’m South Asian, so I like to have a little fun with it and think of wizards in ghararas (my favourite item of clothing); the Wizarding World is quite insular, travel is relatively unrestricted (hello, they have magic!), everyone has a common enemy in muggles (and other species- goblins, house-elves) etcetera, so race probably doesn’t function the same way and I headcanon a lot of cross-cultural exchange. Plus, wizarding fashion isn’t restricted by weather- they have warming charms- so wearing clothes made for hot climates in England, for example, wouldn’t be a problem.

Plus, I actually think saris are a natural fancy dress option- flowy, drapey, colourful. Speaking of which-

3. If there’s one fanon idea that I hate (aside from fanon!Sirius, of course), it’s this image of wizards (specifically high society wizards) as reserved. Sorry, did we read the same books? Wizards, even posh, rich wizards, like the Malfoys and Blacks, are camp and very outlandish. They do house-elf taxidermy, they keep their wands in canes. Just because Hogwarts uniforms are black doesn’t mean that people dress like they’re in mourning all the time. People can be total snobs and obsessed with their image and still wear bright pink, insane robes, because guess what? They have different social conventions than we do. Men and women dress basically the same, so there is no reason to believe that a man wearing a flowing robe would be against the norm. I say this as someone who believes misogyny and homophobia are well and truly alive in Wizarding society, especially in pureblooded families where the emphasis is on continuing the line; they definitely exist, but they probably look different.

4. My personal obsession and headcanon: rich wizards wearing bones. Look, I might not think of them as racist in the traditional sense, but they are undeniably speciesist, if that’s a word? They think of themselves as superior, and other sentient magical species either work under (goblins) or are enslaved (house-elves) by wizards. We only see Veelas very briefly, but despite them being admired for their beauty, I doubt wizards treat them very well. So- show me blood-purists wearing corsets made of goblin bones and teeth. Show me Veelas being hunted for their blood to stain and dye clothes with. Show me exotic “magical creatures” that are humanoid and capable of reasoning and should have rights, like mermaids and werewolves, being hunted for their scales and pelts while also being ostracised for being ‘non-human’. It’s terrible, but that’s the kind of archaic jewellery and fashion the old families that the fandom likes to fetishise would like to wear.

[runwayrunway]

Galley Gala No. 4 - Saudia

Okay, so Saudia's livery isn't fantastic. But their cabin crew uniforms? Top notch.

I feel like the first thing that pops into a Westerner's mind when considering what a Saudia stewardess might look like is "aren't women in Muslim-majority countries legally required to wear a hair covering?" And the answer for airline cabin crew is not only 'no', but actually a fairly emphatic one. Emirates and Qatar Airways actually both ban the hijab (the hair covering). This means that, if you're hijabi and hoping to be a flight attendant, British Airways or WestJet would be a better choice than the national airlines of countries where the majority of women are hijabi. That's bizarre to me, personally.

(It should be clarified that the majority of these countries actually employ primarily foreign cabin crew; while certainly many Saudia flight attendants would have always been Muslim, they only began hiring Saudi women in 2020. Before this, they were all foreigners. The majority were Filipino, Thai, or Eastern European. This is true of many fields in many countries in the Persian Gulf. The UAE and Qatar also have never required head coverings by law, and from what I've heard non-Muslim foreigners generally just don't wear them.)

Saudia's cabin crew, until 2020, dressed in a very smart blue pantsuit with gold hardware and a crisp white shirt underneath. From the neck down, it is literally just a very nice-looking flight attendant uniform which doesn't come with a skirt option in order to preserve hijab (the concept).

Underneath the jackets, there are these lovely light-looking shirts and matching blue vests. I would, in a heartbeat, wear exactly identical clothing to a pre-2020 Saudia flight attendant, except with different shoes. It's stylish! And it comes with these headpieces which have headscarves attached to them, in order to actually cover the wearer's hair. It's a pretty stylish and clever way to approach the task. The scarf blends really well into the vest without constricting the neck, so if it catches on something in an evacuation the wearer won't be horribly strangled. I fully approve.

In 2020, they released an updated version. In addition to incorporating cabin crew's feedback on comfort and practicality, it updates the appearance to something I think is very chic.

These coats, with the brown gloves and shoes, are gorgeous, and I just adore the new darker blue. These are just downright nice outfits. If you asked me what job these women have, I would not guess that they're flight attendants - I would think they're working in some glamorous, high-profile job. Being a flight attendant in Saudi Arabia is not considered glamorous in the least, but you wouldn't be able to tell it from this updated look.

In addition to the darker blue, the female cabin crew are now given the choice to wear skirts, and their suits are given a belted waist for a very 40s look. I like it a lot. I think these are some of the best looking 'traditional' flight attendant uniforms out there. This has all the features Saudia's livery should have, but doesn't.

Here's something a bit weird, though. I think Saudia may have just banned the hijab*?

*The literal headscarf. The rest of their uniform is still quite hijab-compliant as far as I, a non-Muslim man, can tell.

So, there's this drapey bit. It's pretty similar to Emirates's uniforms (which I will discuss some day). Emirates bans the hijab. Emirates flight attendants are all required to remove their hijab for work, if they wear one. Saudi Arabia, until 2018, required all women, including non-Muslims and foreigners, to wear abaya. Since 2018, there is no legal requirement to wear a hair covering, and now their flag carrier seems to have banned hijabs for flight attendants.

The absence of a hair covering inbuilt in the uniform isn't equivalent to it being banned, of course. The reason I think it might be is that it's been three years now and I haven't seen anything to indicate that it isn't, despite other people asking the same question. When this is partnered with the habits of other carriers it begins to feel like it implies something. I don't know. I can't find Saudia saying anything on the topic. This particular headgear really looks almost identical to Emirates's in particular. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a bit of active imitation going on, since Emirates is absolutely massive and Saudia is probably kicking themselves for not getting into imitating them earlier and buying A380s while they still could. Imagine the efficiency of all-economy A380 hajj flights. On the other hand, Saudia's low-cost subsidiary, Flyadeal, doesn't require head coverings but does allow them, so I ultimately just don't know what's happening and am sort of curious. If anyone reading this knows more than I do, I would love to hear from you.

Anyway, all that aside, Saudia cabin crew look absolutely fantastic. These uniforms are elegant in their wide strokes and immaculate in their details, and are up there as one of my favorite uniforms that could be described in structure and vibe as "a suit".

[theshehulkproject]

18, 21, 25!

Yessssss!

18: A memorable meal this year?

The first one! On New Year’s morning, my friend pulled out all the stops and had a fully gluten free crepe party/brunch for my friends who had come to town for New Year's. She served one round of savory crepes. Oh wait, I found a picture of the menu she made.

it’s not so much the crepes as it is… just the love that’s stored in that meal. The wonder of setting the table and then sitting in the coziest kitchen with my friend who is 6 watching my best friends bustle about the kitchen. Reading bits of a literary nonfiction book aloud whenever something catches my fancy. Truly the Wendy Cope Orange poem of meals.

21: What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

I moved! Once upon a time I lived in a low-ceilinged basement apartment, but then I found a newt in it (!!!) and found that the floorboards were full on molding. I freaked out and moved out to a second story apartment that’s my favorite place I’ve ever lived alone—just enough space for me and my cat, more sunlight, and a covered patio!!! That my dad and I converted to a catio!!!

25: Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one

@starlit-mansion you are the only one who knows about them!!! But I’ll tell everyone else as well.

Sometimes before bed I'll look at exchange Original Works writing prompts to full-contact juggle in my brain while I'm drifting off. I found a prompt for The Goddess of Telepathy/The God of Jewelry/The God of Time and I got so excited I couldn't sleep for HOURS. Before too long I had three solid characters and a whole pantheon set up, it was a beautiful thing. I still think of them constantly, but this is the most I've written down about them for a long time:

The Goddess of Telepathy is basically the goddess of deep knowing; the goddess of mountains and whalesong and the feeling that rocks get when rivers run over them for a hundred years... and also like 15 actually telepathic humans but they all try not to make too big a deal out of it. She's big in every dimension: tall and fat with the confidence of an opera singer but the serenity of someone who meditates every day. Her skin is the light brown of willow bark and she wears exclusively drapey, toga-like clothing.

The God of Jewelry is a real gremlin of a man, who was once the Goddess of Jewelry but then he made a golden phallus one time and decided it was his. Where his wife is still and serene, his hands are always in motion, always fiddling with the incredible amount of jewelry he has on at any time. He wears sort of a punk-rock military-style jacket and has dark skin with locs that have all kinds of beads in them. Very important: He always has a small living golden frog that spends most of its time as an ear cuff and might be his familiar? possibly a help in the jewelry forge?

The God of Time is just a mess.

I love these three but I might love them too much to commit them to an OW story? Someone did request them again for Holly Poly, though, so I might try to make it work for that? We'll see.

(I have other OCs that I haven't told anyone about, also based on OW ship tags, and I could share if you want but also it's late and I might have to go to bed.)

[fourseasonsfigs]

Neufmode Han

This pensive cutie is inspired by an airy and atmospheric photo shoot, for Neufmode Style Magazine.

We're lucky enough to have a video from this, so let's roll the footage:

Here's the photo that inspired this fig:

This shoot is like a soft, breezy Parisian spring morning. I really love those green drapey pants of his - I would totally buy those. They look elegant and flowy and very comfy. The watercolor jacket looks beautifully soft and almost impressionistic with the rest of the outfit, especially with the light ombre sweater under it.

Zhehan always has such a presence in his modeling shots. I don't know how to describe it except by saying there's a lot of soul to it - you never get the sense that he's just a pretty face, or simply "model as coat hanger" that some designers employ.

This shot is still up on Neufmode's official Instagram page (dated May 9, 2020), but it looks like they gave up on the gram after posting a couple more shots (of purses) sporadically after. Might as well quit at the top!

The set arrived with the two pieces separate. This chair is a bit bigger in scale than say, the tiny folding Adirondack chair Zhehan has in the camping figs set, so it actually worked out better than I thought it would.

The fig maker went with kind of a dashed line pattern for his jacket, which seems a bit scratchy of a look but probably makes sense given the difficulty it might take to replicate what is a surprisingly involved pattern.

And here he is! Sitting pretty. I put a little bit of putty on the seat and it's all level and sturdy and works out beautifully.

Tousled hair is always a good look on Zhehan, and the fig maker captured it really nicely here I think. Previous to this fandom, I've always thought men's toy figures and dolls were sadly limited and rather boring with just plain short hair (says a person growing up seeing GI Joe and He-Man figures as a kid), but as in many things, my eyes have been opened.

These shots have good views of his silver earring as well. This angle also highlights how well proportioned this fig is in terms of modeling - the chair looks just right, and he's leaning back at a casual but not sloppy angle. Zhehan has such exquisitely beautiful posture that even when he's slouching a bit, he still looks quite elegant.

I'm really pleased with how well this fig sits in this chair. Fig physics! I wish I was anywhere nearly approaching the level of Chinese ability (as I look forlornly at my Master HSK Level 1! workbook) that would allow me to interview a fig maker / fig factory.

I like how you can actually still see the casual-but-elegant lean even from this angle.

I do really enjoy these new three-quarter side shots! I feel like I'm taking a tour around the fig.

There we go! I must admit I like Zhehan's original black hair the best, but the colors are also a fun change-up. He looks great in everything.

The tousled mop of hair! A nice view of his casually resting hands too.

I love the box card with the playful puppy! We all know who that jumping pup is.

And, you're getting a spoiler for the rest of these figs in this (individually sold) set! What fun. I'll do them next.

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 238

Scene Count: 18

Rating: Relaxation for the soul

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[goatskids]

this is guan yu jin my chinese fortune teller

in his original verse he's made of bronze so his skin should be goldeny not.. picrew light. hes got a tongue tattoo of his name and amnesia (it's not his name just that of his creator) his eyes are jade stones and he married a russian wolf man. likes long drapey things will grizzle and complain if you tell him to put shoes on

georgei siniy owns a bar where yu jin reads his fortunes. he likes loose pants and shiny things his sister is an engineer for the city trainline

regular guests are the principal of the local highschool who's last name is literally love. Mr Cornelius Love and the air conditioning tech elf who is in love with him Arrow Lichen

and this is guan yu jin the sorcerer

usually wears hanfu. he's uh.. several millennia old they get mistaken for each other frequently which sucks when one is out committing atrocities and the other is a pacifist

that's as far as I got with that story in highschool

the coolest bit was that the elfs were insectile with parasitic fungi infections giving them their sapience tho

I think I recall the point being repentance via concentrated and visible effort to make amends and the reaching for and love of someone who is spiralling no matter how far they've gone

[365elephantsoap]

FEMININITY

How do you express your femininity?

That was a question on a questionnaire that I had to fill out for this retreat. I had zero answers. I ended up writing something about a favorite dress, but even then I felt I was just putting down place holder words. That favorite dress is basically a tent. I might even make it my Halloween costume this year because it makes me look like an umbrella. But I LOVE it. I have always gravitated to clothing that hides my shape. Baggy t-shirts and jeans, oversized slip dresses with giant cardigans, large draping tunics. Clothing that doesn’t touch my skin. That’s my jam. Amani introduced me to a clothing store in Vancouver filled with crisp, clean drapey clothes. With unlimited funds, I would have purchased one of everything.

Expressing my femininity has never been a thought in my brain. Until now. Now, I sit around pondering this question and every answer I come up with is still place holder words. I have excuses. They all center around the patriarchy and living in a ‘man’s’ world. I was a very determined and driven youth. So I hid the feminine parts of myself to avoid unwanted attention and groping. Nothing would deter me from my goals: get to college, be a scientist. It worked so well that I didn’t have my first kiss until I was almost seventeen and it was one hundred percent on my terms. Boys did not look at me and I only had to say a few sentences for them to decide that this was not a girl to hang with. I had too many thoughts, too many views. Chris was different, but then again he was more man than boy when we met. My femininity took second place to my brain. He didn’t mind the thoughts and the views. He relished them.

Hilary Clinton recently revealed her reasoning behind her famous pant suits. She was wearing a skirt while on a visit to Africa. A picture was taken of her sitting on a couch with a diplomat and even though she thought she was sitting properly, apparently her underwear was showing. Photographers took advantage and before she knew it, that picture was being used to advertise lingerie. After that, she questioned every time she walked on stage and the angle of a photographer’s lens. Her answer was to wear pants and not worry about it ever again. So much of our femininity tends to be wrapped around our appearance and the judging eyes of men. We’ve been conditioned to the idea that femininity is in the dresses we wear and paint we put on our faces.

fem·i·nin·i·ty

/ˌfeməˈninədē/

noune

qualities or attributes regarded as characteristic of women.

"she alternated between embracing her femininity and concealing it"

Seeing the written definition of a word has a way of striking cords and changing perspectives. Over time, words sort of lose their original meanings or the meaning becomes hidden, construed. Whenever I am struggling with a word, I always take a moment to remind myself of that word’s basic meaning. One of the things that I told Roze before heading out to this retreat was how excited I was to be going to something like this and not having to do anything. I would not have to teach a class or help with meals. I would not have to care for any one but myself, but after our morning of digging for crystals, I found myself stepping into the kitchen and helping Erica with dinner preparations. I was not asked. I just saw a need and stepped in. Of course I was breaking the rules. Roze had already put a “No Cindy In the Kitchen” rule in place, but in that instance, I ignored the rule.

This is how I express my femininity. I do not express it with appearances. I express it in my actions, in how I care for those around me and in my willingness to step in and help in times of need. Caring. Nurturing. These qualities feel soft to me and my first instinct is shove aside the idea of softness, as if softness is a weakness. But caring and nurturing others requires strength.

I am embracing this softness with open arms.

[laurelier]

Have you thought at all about how H & his team will be approaching the headlining spot at Coachella? (setlist-wise, fashion-wise, literally anything, I just can't believe the first festival appearance we get is HL Coachella LMFAO)

Oooooooo very fun question yes yes fun fun and like, short answer, no, I have not thought about it at all before right now in this moment, but long answer, I will think about it now!!! Gonna direct you before I do, though, to a similar ask @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk got a little while ago because I agree with a lot of what Ella said <3

What I think. Is. That he will probably go with his regular Love On Tour setlist because, like. That includes enough of his hits that the big gp audience will be like oh hell yeah i know this song waturmillinsugurrrrhaaaaAAAIIAIIAGHHGH WADADBADAAA every couple of songs and go crazy go stupid yk it's Coachella or wtv but that way he'll also be able to get some exposure for the lesser-known ones, Only Angel, etc. that someone might hear and then be like ok i'll bite. Maybe he'll like, play with the sound on a few of them to fit the *~festival vibe*~? Would be cool if he did, but also maybe he'll just want to stick to what he knows sounds good. Either way would be great. Also I can't wait for him to play AIW live, EEEEEE, and fashion wise I am hoping for hippie queen, give me glorious hippie queen Harry, give me 60s princess, give me SO much flowing drapey fabric, GIVE ME PAISLEY!!!! GIVE ME A FLOWER CROWN!!!!

So, like, no hot takes there really except for maybe the flower crown lmao but. Because you have asked me. And because I live in a fairytale rainbow dreamworld of my own creation. I'm going to say. That I hope to God above he does a cover. Which isn't that far out of the realm of possibility, we got a couple covers on tour....... and since Coachella is in southern California, and his upcoming album is named Harry's House.................. man I want that mf to cover Carey so bad. Sing some Joni or you're a rotten egg, Harry!!!!!!

Really what I desperately want him to cover is My Old Man, I want him to sing that from, like, the bottommost depths of my eternal soul, we dooooNNEEEEDDNOPEECEAHPAPURFRUMTHACITEEEEEHAAAALL can you absolutely I MA GINE but. I am not a realistic person, but I am still not so unrealistic as to think he'd go that far into, like, man I miss the shit out my awesome boyfriend when I'm home alone territory here. Maybe if he did cover Joni he'd, like, go with Big Yellow Taxi or something that everybody and their grandma knows, but my heart says bet on Carey, hi @bluewinnerangel canyon moon joni post, I'm going hooooooooome.

That is what I think I am so glad u asked anon ty!!!!!

[maydaymadier]

Hello, I did a series of pieces for my drawing class based on/inspired by Greek mythology

[Image ID: A series of six drawings, Icarus, Apollo, Deadalus is a full body rear view illustration of a man standing in a pool of water. The musculature is drawn in and the yupo paper is textured to look like wings and turmeric is used to make a bright golden sunbeam. Mourning Dove shows the still body of Icarus, wings broken on the grassy hillside behind him, a coastal village far away in the distance. The paper is torn open to show Apollo frantically checking on him, he is the only figure left as a frantic sketch. Apollo is drawn on yellow cardstock unlike the rest of the blue-stained paper. Love in Passing at the End of the World is drawn in India ink with a craft knife on torn paper. The figures are two black silhouettes lying against each other holding hands but not looking at each other. Both are wearing masks over their noses and mouths that blend into the hazy fire and embers background drawn in mixed highlighters. Apollo and Artemis are a twin set of drawings featuring Apollo on the left, who sits on a rock, with drapery wrapped around and over him. He's balancing a lyre against one hip and he has prominent top surgery scars and long curly hair spilling over his shoulder. Artemis is standing against a stone column, dressed casually in a light, drapey dress that exposes her left breast and sandals. There is a quiver under her left arm and a bow slung over her chest. Both are on gold and teal metallic mixed acrylic paint. Prometheus is a long thin piece of highly textured red acrylic paint, highlighted with bold black lining and graphite, more of the textured red acrylic pieces come spilling out of the paper.]

[heylabodega]

When I ask you WHEN will a quietly handsome youngish man knock on my door because I'm playing my music too loud--even though, listen you know usually I love this song it's just I have to be up early tomorrow, he says--and I answer the door in my drapey cotton sleep clothes looking all bony and soft and makeupless and frizzy and entirely charming and oh my god I'm so sorry I say, push my hair off my face and get a swipe of the paint I've been using flatteringly on my cheekbone, oh my god I'll turn it down, no it's fine he says it's just I've got this, gazing into my eyes, early morning, and we fall in love?

[carrotycake]

the world put you in front of me (and we aligned)

A chance encounter at an Ishgardian dance, and Ysayle finds herself falling in love all over again.

4.1k words | Rated M | FFXIV | Estinien/Ysayle pairing | AO3

*

It’s funny, Ysayle thinks. She has spent so much of her life fighting and despising everything the nation of Ishgard stood for, that to be standing here, on the balcony of one of Ishgard’s largest manors, feels a tad hypocritical. For the first time, she appreciates the beauty of the land stretching out in front of her, the late-night sunset (which is as close to a summer as Coerthas gets) casting orange and pink hues across the grey pointed spires of the city itself. She rests her arms on the balustrade, observing the chatter of guests down below. It is oddly peaceful, despite her protestations at being invited in the first place. And still bitterly cold, of course, despite it being summer. Ysayle, shivering, rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm herself up; she had left her coat inside and the thin fabric of her gown was not nearly enough to ward off the freezing night air.

She sighs, her breath exhaling into a cloud of mist in front of her. Had she not gone by the name ‘Iceheart’ for years, revered by her heretic followers? She had survived many harsh Coerthas winters, only for her to shiver now at the merest hint of a breeze. Admittedly, she had found the warmth of the ballroom inside to be a little much, packed as it was with nobles, commoners, and politicians alike. The fresh air, cold as it was, was extremely welcome.

It was Aymeric, of course, that was behind the ball, and her invite to it – the Warrior of Light’s dear friend, and perhaps the most influential man in the city. Endlessly charming, he had persuaded her that it was an olive branch, of sorts, to mend the rifts between heretics and men. And – well, she had wanted to make amends. Lead those who walked after, and all that.

“Out here enjoying the festivities, I see?”

A familiar voice drags her from her thoughts, and she turns to see the tall, lithe body of Estinien crouching carefully on the gables above the double doors leading back into the ballroom. She frowns, irritated that he had caught her unawares in a moment of introspection.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He shrugs, getting to his feet and gracefully hopping onto the ground beside her; ever the dragoon, she notes. He’s not in the armour he wore the last time they had seen each other, before Azys Lla. Like Ysayle, he is dressed in an approximation of Ishgardian formal wear, his long white hair tied in a loose half-ponytail. He’s handsome, her mind helpfully supplies, and she wills the thought away before it becomes trouble.

“Long enough,” he replies, leaning on the railing a fulm or two away from her, his gaze distant. He frowns. “Formal…balls aren’t really my thing. I needed some air. And – a break from drunk nobles trying to get me to dance with their offspring.”

Ysayle chuckles, despite herself. “I must admit, I did not recognise you at first. You clean up well, when you’re not head to toe in dragon blood.”

He bows his head. If Ysayle is not mistaken, she sees the hint of a blush colour his pale cheeks.

“Well,” he mutters, “You are the opposite, Iceheart. I believe there was not a soul in that room that did not notice you upon entering.”

She raises an eyebrow. “In a good way, or a bad way? Pray, do elaborate.”

Estinien splutters for a second. “Well, I – It is a nice dress. That is all I meant. No doubt the haberdashers will be inundated with requests for similar styles by tomorrow morning.”

A slightly backhanded compliment, but a compliment, nonetheless. “Damned by faint praise, I see.”

She turns to look back towards the sunset. “It is actually one of Tataru’s creations, so they’ll have a hard time prying the pattern from her little hands.”

Tataru had taken over creative control of this project, because formal dances were certainly not Ysayle’s area of expertise, and the Lalafell had been only too happy to help out. The light, drapey cerulean fabric of the dress belied the traditional Ishgardian style, but Ysayle had never cared much for tradition anyway. It was pinned and tucked beautifully, with embroidered details on the neckline and hem. It even – scandalously – showed off a little cleavage, something Ysayle wasn’t necessarily unhappy with.

They stand like that together, a little distance apart, for a few minutes; enjoying the last rays of the sun in what appears to be a companionable silence. How many times had they done this, a mere few months ago? Accompanied by Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light, of course, but together nonetheless. Sunsets always seemed even more spectacular when seen on islands beyond the clouds. Ysayle had never thought to see such beauty again in her lifetime; she had expected to die on Azys Lla, one last act of service as Shiva.

The gods, as it happened, must have had other plans, as she’d fallen from that great height and landed in the middle of a Vanu Vanu outpost; the last remnants of Shiva’s protection shielding her from further harm in the fall. Word had gotten back to Camp Cloudtop of her survival, and she had eventually woken in the infirmary in the centre of Ishgard. Mere days after her own discharge, and Estinien was staying there under the very same care as she had.

She had avoided visiting, though, despite Alphinaud’s almost-insistence that she do so. She had never thought this far ahead in life; now there was peace, real peace, and her old role was no longer needed. Lord Aymeric, introduced through the Warrior of Light, had requested her help in rehabilitating the remaining heretics and repairing the city in exchange for a pardon for her crimes, and she was not about to turn down such an offer. The Scions had allies, and she herself was still blessed with Hydaelyn’s gift, so she might as well make herself useful.

In quieter moments, however, her mind always drifted back to Estinien. She admitted to being a little disappointed when he disappeared from Ishgard without a trace after his recuperation; the small, naïve girl within her longed to believe that they could have been…something, more than just acquaintances passing in the night.

“You are deep in thought, my lady,” he says, a statement more than a question. Ever with the formalities, even when they were at each other’s throats with opposite ideals.

She shakes her head. “Just reminiscing. My life has taken on a trajectory I could not have anticipated before I had met you and your allies. I have much to be grateful for.”

“I admit, I was – glad to hear you had lived. My own fortunes were, you could say, not so lucky after our victory on Azys Lla. I did not hear about – you – until after I had awoken in the infirmary.” Estinien looked – embarrassed, perhaps? Ysayle could not tell, in the dim light of the evening.

“I-” He falters, swallowing. “I wanted to apologise. For things I have said. Knowing now the full truth of the war betwixt man and dragon, I – I said some unkind things. ‘Twas not your fault that I was ignorant.”

Ysayle takes a moment to think on his words. They were not the people they once were, after all. The truth, she thinks, has changed them both. She looks at him, then – he does not shy away from her eye contact – and nods.

“Apology accepted. For what it’s worth, I have a great deal to apologise for as well. My conscience is not clear, by any means.”

Estinien cracks a small smile. (She tries not to think that a smile suits him. It really does.)

“Aye, that is true.”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted by a change of music from the ballroom – a slightly faster tune, reminiscent of folk tunes Ysayle heard as a child at communal dances in Falcon’s Nest. It was clearly designed to bring more couples onto the dance floor, and was so far having the intended effect. Ysayle could see the Warrior of Light, dressed in finery (another of Tataru’s creations), swinging Alphinaud a little too fast round in circles on the dancefloor. Aymeric could be seen, too, dancing politely with Hilda; commoners and nobles alike danced merrily to the band’s music. If this was their new republic, Ysayle thinks, then she quite likes it.

It is this train of thought that compels Ysayle with more bravado than she has; not thinking about where it might lead, she turns to her brooding companion.

“Well, when all is said and done-” She holds out a hand to Estinien, “Care for a dance?”

His brow furrows. “I’ve never- I mean. Forgive me, Ysayle. I’m not much of a dancer.”

She smiles lightly. “Neither am I. But we are alone, for the time being. Indulge me.”

“As you wish,” he frowns, still a tad reluctant, but he takes her outstretched hand regardless and pulls her close and Ysayle thinks, oh.

Oh no.

It has been a long time since she has been this close, physically, with anyone, and she wonders if Estinien can feel her heart thudding loudly in her chest. They stumble at first, taking a few attempts to figure out the rhythm of the song versus the clumsiness of their feet, but eventually settle into a gentle waltz.

Ysayle is acutely aware of the position of Estinien’s hand on the small of her back; its warmth – and he is so warm – practically burning through her dress. They are closer than they need to be, exactly, for the formality of ballroom dance, but Ysayle finds that she does not mind. He is avoiding her eyes now (deliberately, she thinks), so she instead concentrates on the position of her hand on his shoulder, her other hand clasped tightly in his as they circle aimlessly together across the balcony.

“So,” he begins, uncertainly, once they’d found their rhythm, “Where did you learn to dance, then? You seem to have more of a head for it than I.”

Ysayle smiles. “A little, as a child. And we had plenty of impromptu dances when I was-” When I was with the heretics¸ she would have said. Another time, in another life. Estinien, evidently noticing her hesitation, raises an eyebrow.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I simply cannot imagine a band of heretics indulging in such trivial things as dances whilst plotting the fall of Ishgard.”

“You are a fool, then, if you believe that we did nothing but sit around and curse the Holy See whilst getting drunk on dragon’s blood,” Ysayle scowls, swinging Estinien round a little more forcibly than she had intended. He stumbles, a little, before righting himself.

“I did not give much thought to the heretics unless they were forcibly attacking the city,” Estinien says, his tone serious, but the quiet glint in his eyes relaying a certain kind of humour. Ysayle rolls her eyes. He always knew exactly how to push her buttons to get her riled up when they were travelling together, and it seems not much has changed.

“I’ll have you know,” she huffs, “Lord Aymeric himself requested my assistance in restoring the city-”

“To avoid a jail sentence, yes,” Estinien has an eyebrow raised, smirking. He positions his arms just so, allowing her to dip backwards as part of the dance. His arms are secure, holding her in place perfectly before swooping her back up. They continue their circles together, Estinien chuckling at Ysayle’s irritation.

“For someone of little skill, you have picked up this dance remarkably fast,” she comments, her face flushed – from the exertion of the dance, or from Estinien’s attention, she was yet unsure.

“I’m a fast learner,” he says, and was it her imagination or was he a little closer to her than before? He stares resolutely ahead, his expression faintly jovial, and Ysayle tries not think about how good his arms felt holding her up.

The upbeat song currently playing comes to a close and, after a brief interlude, a new one starts up, slower than the previous one. Adjusting their pace accordingly, she thinks back a few months to their expedition together. Gods, she had not cared for the dragoon upon first meeting him. He was narrow-minded, and brash, and had been all-too willing to fight and kill the very creatures they were trying to make their allies without a second thought.

And yet – she had grown to like him, over those many days travelling. At first, the attraction had been purely physical. He was handsome, after all, and Ysayle had caught a peek of him removing his armour to see chiselled muscles and a wiry frame; something inside of her had fluttered, momentarily, when he had removed his helmet in front of her for the first time, revealing uncharacteristically soft, fair hair and deep-set blue eyes.

“Don’t get used to this,” he’d muttered, noticing her looking at him. “I can’t eat your soup with a helmet on.”

She’d blushed, then, almost as much as she was surely blushing now.

Even with Estinien’s growing connection to the Eye of Nidhogg – she’d felt it, creeping, growing, gnawing at him even as they travelled together – and his insistence that killing the wyrm was the best solution, she had caught glimpses of a kinder man underneath his harsh determination. Alphinaud had seen it too, as had the Warrior of Light. It endeared him to her, whether she wanted it to or not. And in the long weeks that had followed her miraculous survival, there had been much time for her to dwell on these thoughts.

Halone’s tits, she was in it now, wasn’t she?

It occurs to Ysayle, just then, that the slow pace of the current song meant that their little, secluded waltz had become less of a dance and more just – swaying gently, endlessly circling, not really paying attention to any kind of rhythm. The whole world, for a second, felt like it was just the two of them, the stars aligning to bring them together in a single moment.

“Your hands are cold,” Estinien murmurs, and she forgets for a moment that she still had one of his hands in hers. Usually a woman of great eloquence, she suddenly finds she is tongue-tied, she cannot speak-

“Y-yes, well. Perhaps it is you that is warm,” she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat as he brings her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. He almost seems surprised at his own boldness, his eyes crinkling in a rare bit of humour at her response.

“Mayhap,” he replies. The night is almost completely upon them now, the only light illuminating their faces being the candlelight from the outside lanterns and the ballroom itself. Their eyes meet, Estinien’s expression unusually soft.

Ysayle is not sure who makes the first move but suddenly his lips are on hers, her arms snaking around his neck, his hands on her hips, guiding them in a new kind of dance. In the end, it does not matter, because she is kissing him, and it is suddenly all she can think about. How long had she thought of this moment? How long had she imagined what Estinien’s kiss would feel like? It was, in truth, longer than she would care to admit.

He kisses with the air of someone who does not have a huge amount of practice, but makes up for whatever experience he lacks with strong, guiding hands; Ysayle soon finds herself pressed up against the iron railings of the balcony, the coldness of the metal on her back in sharp contrast to Estinien’s warm embrace. She feels goosebumps on Estinien’s neck where she is touching him; – yes, her hands are always cold, so cold – she moves a hand round to his lapel, using it to anchor herself to him and pull him closer, ever closer.

They break apart to catch their breath, and she looks up at his face, flushed as red as she’d ever seen it, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you, perchance, have a residence in Ishgard, Ysayle?” he breathes, still so close to her. Ysayle knows where this is going, knows where this might end up. And she wants it, Halone knows she does.

“That depends,” she says, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. Estinien exhales, almost impatient.

“On?”

Ysayle pulls away, just enough to see his face fully. “Is this…something you want? Truly?” Am I someone you want? She doesn’t say it, but the words settle between them anyway.

He frowns, a trademark scowl, and grasps the hand currently playing with his hair.

“It is. I am not one to deliver undue suffering to a soul such as yourself. And-” He looks flustered, struggling to articulate, “-this is something I have thought about often. In times of difficulty. The possibility of…something more.”

Oh.

“Well then,” she murmurs, his answer more than satisfactory, “In that case, I have a small apartment in the lower wards of the city.”

“I would very much like to get out of here,” Estinien replies, pressing a kiss to her cheek, another along her jawline. She lets her nails scratch the back of his head, just a little, privately enjoying the effect it seems to have on him.

“If you would permit me, my lady-” He breaks away suddenly, a spark of mischief in his eyes, and scoops her up bridal-style. She splutters, wriggling.

“What are you doing?!”

He peers over the edge of the balcony cautiously. “Avoiding any odd stares we might receive from my good friend’s guests. Now, hold still.”

Before Ysayle has any chance to protest, Estinien bends his knees and leaps, and Ysayle’s heart is rushing, the wind howling in her ears momentarily, and it is not far off what a dragon in flight feels like-

He lands, gracefully, some distance away from the mansion, and places her back on her feet with an uncharacteristic amount of care.

Hand in hand, she leads him through the lamp-lit streets, following well-worn paths to the lower area of Ishgard. More than once he catches her against a wall in a bruising kiss, so the walk takes considerably longer than it normally might on one’s own, but Ysayle is too busy wrapped up in Estinien’s arms to care.

The night is fully upon them now, so upon reaching Ysayle’s apartment there is a small amount of stumbling in the dark until she manages to find a lantern. Estinien, helpful as ever, is predictably distracting as she reaches for a pack of matches, hindered by his hands on her waist as he caresses her from behind.

“You know a lantern isn’t really necessary,” he growls, apparently eager. She rolls her eyes – realises too late that it was a gesture he could not see – and bats him away, momentarily.

“I don’t know about you,” she retorts, “But I like to see my lovers when I’m in bed with them.” She manages to strike a small flame into the lantern, illuminating them both in dim, soft candlelight.

Estinien raises an eyebrow, tailing after her as she leads him to the bedroom. “And has the Lady Iceheart had many lovers, in the past?”

She places the lantern down on the chest of drawers with a thunk. “A few. Borne out of convenience, mostly. Some out of love. All enjoyable, for the most part.”

It might have been a cold way of looking at it, but her time leading the heretics had come with its perks, namely that there was no shortage of people interested in her and her powers. She would never have dared manipulate anyone into sex or abuse her power in any way, but she had not been without company, had she so wanted it.  

“And what about the famed Azure Dragoon?” she says, her tone a little more defensive than she had intended, “I’m sure the position comes with its own amount of attention.”

“Some,” he concedes, “But for the most part, I preferred to spend my free time training. A few dalliances, here and there. Nothing serious.”

Ysayle nods. Fair enough, she thinks. You’d have to be out of your mind if you actually wanted to sleep with that grouchy, stubborn arse of a dragoon anyway. Yet here she was.

“Well then,” she says, instead, “I still wish for your company tonight, if you’ll have me.”

Estinien is already against her, capturing her mouth in his and lifting her – a little roughly, not that she minds – onto the bed. “I was hoping we would get to that eventually,” he grins, wickedly.

“You’re an arse,” she replies, but there is no heart in the insult, not really. There’s not much time for thinking, after that, and she is happy to lose herself in Estinien’s arms for the time being.

Ysayle wakes from what might have been the most restful night’s sleep she’s had in some time. She casts a sleepy glance over her small apartment; the curtains had been left half-drawn the night previously, and the morning light was casting a bright glare across her bed, and the sleeping souls that lay within.

Ah, right.

Estinien is still sound asleep next to her; they must have moved apart in slumber during the night, but she distinctly remembers falling asleep in his arms. For the first time, she sees him and all of his scars in full daylight, and fights the urge to trace them gently with her fingertips. She settles for brushing his bangs out of his eyes; he is so peaceful in sleep, she thinks, his usual furrowed brow replaced with one of general content.

There are bruises too, newer ones, scattering across his neck and chest. Ysayle blushes, a little, because she knows that she is the one who put them there, and that there are similar marks on her own body. They will be covered with clothes, eventually, but for now they sit as a reminder of newfound passions and a lover she can’t quite forget.

His eyes flutter open, and an immediate scowl crosses his face as he adjusts to the bright light streaming in.

“Gods, do you always wake this early? To this kind of racket?” His voice is raspy with sleep, his long hair a little dishevelled.

She throws him a mock-frown. “Usually I remember to shut the curtains. I might have been…a little distracted last night.” She runs a finger along his jaw, lifting his chin so that she could lean and kiss him. He leans into her touch, a different kind of reverence.

“Ah,” he says, softly, when she pulls away, “Yes, that would make sense.”

Their clothes, haphazardly rumpled on a nearby chair would also suggest a measure of distraction. They had only paused long enough last night for Estinien to peel off Ysayle’s dress and his own clothes and place them somewhere off of the ground before continuing his ministrations.

“I don’t have anywhere to be today,” she says, by way of invitation, unsure as to how her overture would be received now that it was morning. Morning, bringing with it clarity, and the uncertain light of day. Estinien may not want anything more than whatever the previous night had been.

To his credit, though, Estinien reaches for her and brushes a few strands of silver hair behind her ear.

“Me neither,” he says, and Ysayle’s heart thuds in relief, “What activities have you planned? Lunch out, mayhap?”

This elicits a laugh from her, despite herself.

“Mm,” she smiles, “Maybe later. For now, I want you all to myself.”

Estinien responds in kind, using his advantage of strength and centre of balance to hold her firmly by the waist and flip her over, laying on her back.

“That can be arranged.”

His eyes are dark with want, and Ysayle finds that it pleases her greatly to be able to obtain this kind of reaction from him. She wants – well, she wants Estinien. All of him. Now. Obviously.

What she really wants, though, is Estinien for longer. Knowing that they might have something to come back to, a home found in each other’s hearts – the thought terrifies her, as it wasn’t something easily articulated to her stoic lover. Still, she thinks, perhaps in time.

For now, she has the man she wants in her bed, and that is enough.

[mousieta]

Review: Go Princess Go

Country: China

Date Aired: 2015-2016

Watched on: Youtube

no lie i think its absolutely perfect that that image is such a potato

So to begin this review I first have to go into why I opted to watch this drama. I was intrigued by the teaser and first episode of Mr. Queen as I’m always down for a nice, queer premise and this one seemed particularly delightful. A modern man gets zapped back in time into the body of the nation’s queen and shenanigans (and romance) ensue.

However, I was leery of the Korean version as I had a sinking feeling that the show was going to pull a bait and switch and leave all the queerness either under-explored or under-whelming. So I held off and decided to watch Go Princess Go instead, which was adapted from the same novel as Mr. Queen.

(shoutout to @dangermousie​ who’s tag for Go Princess Go is what sold me on it to begin with, honestly scope her tag for excellent content)

It is important to know what this drama is not. Go Princess Go is not a big budget, exquisitely costumed/ set designed, impeccably written high-brow epic masterpiece of television. Its not even particularly good or sensible drama. It’s 30 minutes of crack served any which way, with a healthy dosing of satire and irreverence. This is a drama that randomly has to insert commercials for erectile dysfunction into a period piece to satisfy the sponsors. It’s a drama that apparently only had enough money for 3/4 of any given costume so lets cut all the robes off at the knee and give all the women drapey sleeveless things.

The charm to this drama is that it knows all of this and doesn’t care. It leans into all of its shortcomings with vigor. I already mentioned the erectile dysfunction commercials (honestly… ?) Random shot of BDSM? Why not. A soccer game to resolve palace issues? Sounds good to me. Men’s and Women’s restrooms with appropriate signage? Perfect. Let’s do all of this while calling out how annoying wrist-grab scenes are and putting the kibosh on anyone believing a girl could pass for a man by just swapping clothes.

At one point I was watching to see what bizarre thing would happen next.

However, tucked in to all this nonsense were some truly outstanding performances by our main leads. Our female lead in particular was  magnetic to watch and the romance between her and our male lead was played pretty straight (pun not intended).

Which brings me to The Gay which is what I was originally interested in and the show gives it to us. It does not try to hand wave that this is a man, coming to terms and growing to love his female body and falling in love with his king which is sweet, romantic and wonderful (with a nice side of ridiculous bc thats just how this drama is).

However, an ending like this cannot be allowed to stand on its own, censors being censors, from what I understand. And this show is - as ever - radically self-aware, so, it doesn’t try to give us what we can’t have. Instead, as if throwing their hands up at the end, they provide literally 3 different endings. All WTFy in their own ways. Like saying - look man we got this as far as we could and there’s no way we can finish this as we all deserve so take your pick from this bowl and say you’re done, at least we gave you a good ride for as long as we could.

And they did.  Like I said this isn’t a Good Drama, but it very much is a fun one.

[tomorrowsdrama]

If I refuse to take my medicine, will a Xiao Qi appear to feed me the medicine by mouth?

I love that our fearless undefeated general not only makes medicine for Awu himself, but also gently coaxes her into drinking the bitter medicine.  And when she keeps saying no, he doesn’t get upset at all but just continues to gently ask her to drink the medicine.  Also, LOOK AT HOW BIG HIS HAND IS IN COMPARISON TO HER FACE.

Should he look this hot just drinking out of a cup?  This is a rhetorical question.

She then tells him to drink it instead and Xiao Qi, our low key general with a secret flare for theatrics, says ok, I’ll feed you the medicine by mouth then AND. I. JUST. DIE. (and rewind and replay maybe 5 to 10 times).  Oh, and he really makes sure she drinks that medicine oh my god.  By the way, I heard that this scene was improvised by ZZY and ZYW and bless them for knowing what the fans want and giving it to us.  This is one of the benefits of hiring older, more experienced actors who don’t have to worry about crazy fangirls/boys getting upset kiss scenes.

look at his face!

And what really gets me in this scene is his face after he kisses her.  It can only be described as the face of a mischievous boy!  She calls him shameless and he’s all like, yeah, and I can be even more shameless if you don’t listen and I’m here screaming PLEASE CONTINUE BEING SHAMELESS.  I am standing here, as a shameless and thirsty woman, in front of a man, asking him to be as shameless as you want.  I love that like most couples, Awu and Xiao Qi are playful and flirtatious in the privacy of their bedroom.  Here, they allow themselves to be carefree and act in ways that they can’t in public and it just feels so real and intimate and I can’t get enough of it.  The Rebel Princess is as much an epic tale of a princess’s journey to being the queen of an empire as it is a tale of a couple’s married life and the balance between the two is just *chef’s kiss*

I also like that Xiao Qi who is usually in armor or no-nonsense practical clothing allows himself the luxury of silky, drapey pajamas in the bedroom.