#it's a red dress and i need some kind of white fur accent

[bloodystripe5641]

"Bleed, Go on." (Grimdark) [Shugel]

Gift: @yaboymacaroni

...

Chapter 1

...

Miguel opened the door to his house. He knew something was wrong, he normally would just ignore intense drama, and other things.

Miguel was wearing a golden yellow color suit vest, underneath it was a black long sleeved shirt. He was wearing black jeans that were covering his black cowboy boots. And he had orange gloves with red on the palm.

Miguel had a good taste in clothing, Miguel was walking as he closed the front door behind. He then realized something was really wrong. Miguel looked around the room of the living room, he was looking for Shu. The house was dark, Shu hated the dark. When Miguel and Shu would get back home the house would be lit. Miguel was walking slowly not to make any noise.

As he walked down the hallway he smelled something that hit him like a baseball. His eyes widened as he smelt it. His pupils were smaller than pinpricks, he stopped, he looked down to see that his foot was closed with the red splatter. His heart sunk as his jaw dropped. He recognized the splatter.

It was blood.

Shu's blood.

How, and why? It crossed his mind, panic prickled through his spine as he started to breathe heavily. He walked down the hallway of what was gonna be the disaster next.

He then stopped abruptly. He saw the door of the kitchen was closed, under the door the kitchen's light was lit. Miguel then heard Shu's grunts, screams, and painful yelling. He was fighting something, or someone. Miguel's blood boiled with rage as he lifted his leg, he kicked the kitchen door open with such force that the handle lodged in the wall.

"What in the hillbilly hell is going on-" Miguel yelled but was cut off. He stood there as he saw the woman.

Blood-scent hit him with the same level of force, lodging in his nose and throat like barbs. His nostrils flared. His eyes widened. His mouth became a shrinking zero of surprise and horror.

Damn it, he should be moving! Why was she just staring like a deer on a train track as the Spain Express barrelled towards it?

The wolf-man on her hind legs looked over his shoulder and smiled. It was, in all fairness, a nice smile on a nice face; a backdrop of brown fur and eyes that crinkled at their corners. This face, those wrinkles seemed to say, smiles a lot.

It wasn’t until you got to the eyes that your opinion changed. Even then, some people might not realise. People were not always perceptive when it came to spotting dangers amongst their own kind. They were a race focussed outward, looking for hazards from outside their perfect little society. It was probably some throwback to a bygone age when they lived in castles and had never conceived of things like cities, houses or mass murdering psychopaths. People didn’t kill. People didn’t hunt their own. Miguel had always found it a useful characteristic, to various ends of him own. The canine’s raw presence was intoxicating. She didn’t even need to say anything. He just had to be and ponies flocked to him. They never saw the pinpricks of cunning deep in those eyes. They didn’t recognise the calculation in his every nod and gesture. Mostly they never got past the smile. Not until it was too late.

Miguel remembered that smile all too well.

The wolf then slowly transformed into a human. Her brown hair was sleeked back with curls, her sharp teeth turned into nubby teeth, she was wearing a black suit vest, underneath it was a whites shirt with rolled up sleeves, she was also wearing black pants with dress suits.

“You’re home!” Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her. A slight accent clung to his words, not enough to be noticeable but enough to make her speech patterns more formal and attractive to the ear. A true predator did not miss any trick. “We were beginning to think you were not coming, my dear little one. Were you waylaid at work?”

Miguel tried hard to keep himself steady. “Put him down, Daciana.”

“Well there’s a nice hello – and after I made such an effort to be civil, too.”

“Put him down now.”

She shifted his gaze. “Oh, but we were having such fun waiting for you to arrive. You always did have such good tastes, my dear. I see that hasn’t changed.” She grinned. “I might have had a little taste. You did keep us waiting an awfully long time.”

Shu’s eyes were huge with panic. He stared at Miguel and might have run to him, had she not pinned him against the wall beside the counter with his feet off the ground. There was blood on his shoulder. It didn’t show red, just darkened his white skin into black bruises where Daciana’s mouth had been. Several dark lines traced a path like filigree to his fingertips. He had bled enough to make spatters on the floor.

“M-Miguel,” he stuttered. “Run!”

“Miguel?” She chuckle coated his name like an oil slick. “Seriously? All the names in the world you could have gone with and that was your choice?” She shook her head. “So did you name yourself after the movie named 'Coco' or the artist? No, wait, I see you have been drawing on yourself. Musical notes? The record then. I am disappointed in you, Maclean. I thought you had more imagination.”

Don’tfreakdon’tfreakdon’tfreakdon’tfreak-

Miguel’s mind tripped over itself as he fought the simultaneous impulses to run, fight and just stand there gawping. That voice. That damned voice! He had spent too many sleepless hours trying to tear it out of his memory – and now here it was. Here she was.

Here.

In his kitchen

In his home.

She couldn’t be here.

He couldn’t let her be here.

Stupid stupid stupid! This is all my fault. I should have guessed. I should have known.

She was watching him.

Miguel swallowed back his recriminations. “Put him down. You know you don’t want him.”

“Don’t I?” Her tone remained playful. It was a thin veneer.

“No. You want me.”

Shu looked between the two of them. He had no idea. He had no friggin’ clue. Oh, he had an inkling of how much danger he was in. His bleeding shoulder and fear-stink told even Miguel’s pitiful senses that much. Yet he didn’t know the rest. He didn’t know who Daciana was – what Daciana was - or why she was here, otherwise he wouldn’t be telling Miguel to run.

Or maybe he would. This was Shu after all.

The kitchen was a mess. He had fought her. Somehow that pleased Miguel. No way would his boy go down without a fight. No friggin’ way.

Except this was Daciana and that was a very, very stupid way to think. If she had allowed Shu to fight back, it wasn’t because he posed an actual threat. Ninety-nine percent of everything she did was just for his own amusement or gain. The remaining one percent … Miguel didn’t even want to think about that.

“Ohhhhhh.” The word became a purr in Daciana’s throat. “Offering yourself up? Trying to exchange yourself? How noble.”

Shu squeaked as she pulled him closer. Miguel’s spine prickled with panic and anger. She nuzzled into Shu’s throat, inhaling the terrified earth human’s scent like a kitten finding a nice spot to nap.

“Leave him alone, Daciana!” Miguel gritted.

“I was wondering whether you’d set up house here with a pet. It was the most palatable option I could think of when I first tracked you down. Do you know what I saw when I first spotted you in this squalid little bit of a suburban nightmare?” Her lip curled, revealing a hint of curvature. Shu trembled. “I saw you carrying groceries, of all things, through the front door. Brown paper bags! Utterly mundane. Utterly not you. But a pet would be acceptable. Tell me she’s a pet, Maclean. Tell me you haven’t been as stupid as I suspect you have been.”

“M-Miguel, what’s going on?” Shu whispered.

Miguel glared as if the strength of his eyes alone was enough to floor her. “Put. Him. Down.”

“Oh dear,” Daciana sighed. “I had hoped you had not fallen into such triteness as to shack up with a mortal to act out the plot of some subpar romance novel. Please do not tell me you believe you love her, Maclean. That would be too, too cliché, even for you.”

Miguel didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say? Confirming or denying the truth would only end badly. The old urge to comply rose inside her. She shifted her gaze, avoiding meeting his eyes directly.

Keep it together! That isn’t you anymore. You don’t have to do as she says. You have your own mind and she can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Keep! It! Together! Miguel!

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” Daciana pulled away from Shu, shaking her head. “Such a shame. And here was I, thinking we were going to be reunited amidst wonderous surprise that you are alive after all and declarations that you had finally seen the error of your ways and planned to come back to where you belong.” She smiled. There was less warmth in it than a blizzard. “I did, after all, think you were gone from this world. I mourned you, Maclean. I am so …” She paused as if to relish the word. “Happy to find I was mistaken.”

Mourned him? Now that was funny.

“M-Miguel?” Shu’s cheeks were wet. He wasn’t gulping air the way he did when he was upset or got so angry she made himself cry with frustration. Terrified tears leaked silently from the corners of his eyes.

“This ‘Miguel’ name. I do not like it. Stop calling her that.” Daciana shook him for good measure. Shu’s head joggled like a balloon on a stick.

“Daciana, stop this!” Miguel cursed the desperation that crept into his voice.

“Why do you not call me ‘Mommy', Maclean? Anyone would think you do not care for me at all.”

Miguel couldn’t look away from Shu. I’m sorry, he thought. I’m so, so sorry. I should have told you. I should have been more honest, but how could I? How could you have believed me?

And even if, by some miracle, Shu had believed the wild and crazy story, what then? He would have left Miguel – or if he hadn’t, he would never have had peace of mind again. The truth would have stolen something from both of them that they could never get back. The only debatable things were ‘what’ and ‘how much’.

Daciana glanced sharply at Miguel. The sudden movement dragged her attention away from Shu. The whites of her eyes had darkened to pink. He recognised the sudden burst of anger thinning her pupils into slits. His stomach lurched. He took an involuntary step forward, foreleg raised as if He wanted to pull her off her prey.

It was the worst thing he could have done.

“I thought so.” Daciana’s mild tone did not match his expression at all. “You have fallen for this one. Oh, Maclean. My poor, poor dear little Maclean. Do you not know that this is pure foolishness? Lay with mortals, certainly, but never fool yourself into thinking you love them. And certainly do not leave your family for them.” Pink shadowed into red as he turned his attention back to Shu, hugging him tight against her like a lover. “Was that why you made believe you were dead? For this little scrap of flesh and bone and … feelings?” Her lip curled. “Yes. Yes, I think so. The way you look at him and she looks at you. He has taken your heart.”

Shu’s chin rested on his shoulder facing Miguel. He opened her mouth to speak again. Faster than Miguel could blink, Daciana’s elbow jutted out and then forward. A wet crunch echoed off the kitchen walls.

“No!” The cry ripped from Miguel as Shu gasped and sagged.

“Whoops. I think I just broke his.”

[etherealmermess]

I can't wait for Halloween because after halloween CHRISTMAS™ season starts and I can listen to Christmas music

[digipigichopshop]

"Uh-Oh" -Prologue- (feat. ITZY's Chaeryeong)

Contains: Manager AU, Mentions of Succubi and teasing, Mild NSFW

2.3K Words

A/N: This is the prologue to a series of fics I'm writing about the girls of (G)I-DLE! I hope y'all enjoy it!

The jarring white fluorescent tubes and the mild incandescent glow coming off the bulbs of the dressing room behind you faded to a soft, warm glow.

The flaky, rough faux leather couch that you called home during so many long nights seemed to shapeshift into a soft, velvety cushioned surface.

The telltale electronic shrieks of somebody's alarm clock pierced through the silence, and you kept your head buried in the cushions, hoping to enjoy that peaceful 5 more minutes of sleep.

But the screams simply wouldn't go away.

Defeated, you lifted your head to identify the source and hopefully its owner.

This wasn't CUBE and this DEFINITELY wasn't the staff lounge.

You woke up in a nightclub, sprawled on a couch in the centre of the room. The place was devoid of all other patrons, yet its gold-and-orange bespoke interior seemed to fill the negative space with no trouble.

You sat upright, finding yourself barefoot but still wearing all the clothes you had on you before you fell asleep. Your classic Black Staff Hoodie, Plain white undershirt and Faded Jeans combo made you feel significantly underdressed for whatever was going on. Your staff lanyard had magically disappeared from around your neck, as well as any items in your pockets.

"Hello? Anybody there?" You asked. The walls merely replied in kind with a soft echo of your own words before falling back to absolute silence.

Getting up, you decided to explore the rest of the nightclub. The lower floor consisted of a typical bar and liquor display and copious seating for patrons. The lower floor was connected to an upper mezzanine by staircases at the flanks, leading to a two-person wide walkway with doors evenly spaced along the sides of the room.

The problem with these doors was that they had an aesthetic that did not match that of the nightclub. Each door was made of a different material and boasted a brass nameplate with seemingly unrelated phrases etched onto them.

A towering pair of mahogany double doors with gilded red fabric accents and "LION" etched onto its brass nameplate caught your eye. The carvings on the door were immaculate, even in the dim orange glow of the nightclub, you could make out the figures of stone lions with light rays branching off their heads, made even more prominent by the occasional reflection of light by the gold accents within.

Yet right next to it stood a white overgrown double diamond trellis gate facing an empty courtyard. The ivy was like nothing you had ever seen before. The vines were thin but boasted many leaves with the occasional flower. The flowers had the vibrant blue of the Blue Pea flower, yet managed to come in fist-sized bundles without weighing the rest of the plant down. The Gate's nameplate was significantly smaller than that of the previous pair of mahogany Double Doors but appeared untouched by the flora around it. Another Cryptic word was etched in its plate, "Moon".

Alright. You thought to yourself. This is probably some kind of messed up escape room. Maybe I just need to gather all the codewords to leave this place and get back to the lounge.

But before you could take another step, an imposing cloud of smoke materialised to your left. It swirled, akin to a tornado, before growing larger and taller until it was roughly the height of a human being. The cloud began to part as a feminine figure stepped forth, coalescing around her as a pair of jet black crow's wings sprouted from her shoulder blades. The smoke condensed itself into a thick miasma at her feet as she stepped out of the cloud, her wings tucking themselves in with a floomph.

To describe her as 'Sexy'' would be a significant understatement. Her curvaceous body was hugged by a red and black sleeveless mini dress, the diamond pattern of the design trailing away into a red faux fur blazer. She wore black ankle boots and her carmine red hair flowed effortlessly to her shoulders.

Then she turned to face you.

And your heart skipped a beat. Or multiple.

In front of you was none other than ITZY's Chaeryeong, or at least, someone who looked just like her. Her black orbs pierced through your defences and made a beeline straight for your heart. You felt your heart rate climb as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and opened her mouth to speak.

"YA, stop staring you fucking perv!" She chided, snapping you out of your trance.

"Ah- ummm, sorry Ms Lee. It's just such a co- coincidence that I me- met you here. I-I'm such a big fan of yours."

aaaaand with that half-assed response, you've made a fool of yourself in front of one of the biggest Kpop idols. You thought to yourself.

Chaeryeong giggled. It's almost as if she can read my thoughts-

"Oh, but I can," Chaeryeong replied. "Welcome to the prison of your own making!" She said, walking past you towards the bar.

"Wait, what?" You replied, stunned.

"I took some of your memories and built this place from places and figures you recall. This Nightclub? Just a figment of your imagination. I stole it from that one detective TV show you liked so much back in 2019. Nothing in this place is real."

"Except for you and me."

You clamoured your way to the railing as Chaeryeong walked to the bar counter and pulled out two lowball glasses, filling them with Jack Daniels from the liquor display behind her. She took a swig before staring you in the eye.

"Wait so I'm not actually in an escape room?" You asked quizzically, making your way down the steps to join her.

"Well, that depends on what you mean by 'escape room'," Chaeryeong replied, sliding over the other lowball glass. You took a swig, only to realise that the rough burn of the alcohol had been replaced by an empty nothingness. It was as if you had just drunk plain water, no semblance of that malt or hint of dry spice was even there to take in.

"I mean, if you don't make it out of here, this body is all mine for the taking," Chaeryeong said, smiling as she took another swig.

You did a double-take.

Did she just say "This Body is all mine?"

"In case you haven't figured it out, yes. You will hand over full control of your bodily functions to me should you fail to satisfy my needs." Chaeryeong said. "Currently, the two of us have mutual control over your brain activity, and I'm using my control to keep you stuck here until your time is up."

"Wait wait wait. Who exactly ARE you? You're definitely not the same Lee Chaeryeong I see on youtube or VLive."

At this moment, Chaeryeong set down her lowball glass. Her brow furrowed as she pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, sighing.

"God, humans are such dull creatures."

Chaeryeong's figure warped as she arched her back, the same jet-black crow's wings unfurling in their magnificence. The wings accompanied themselves by the soft clink of something hitting the tile, as a leathery, myrtle-green serpentine tail snaked its way under Chaeryeong's legs. Her hairband shifted slightly upwards as a tiny pair of jagged onyx horns grew forth, but they felt minuscule in comparison to the majesty of her wings. She spread her hands, causing the wings to spread to their maximum wingspan, toppling a few bottles in the display behind her.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, we Succubi like to keep ourselves well hidden around these parts. That is, until we find someone as weak-willed as you to trap and have our way with." She said, leaning against the counter. "You're always so caught up in your little 'work-gym-sleep' mindset that you've missed every chance to truly utilise that body of yours. It's a shame, really." Chaeryeong reached over the counter and pressed her fingertips against your chest, before snaking down to your abs. Even through your hoodie and shirt, you could feel her fingers caressing every bump and crevice, and your cheeks flushed in response.

"Ok, but as a succubus, isn't your main duty to sleep with dudes and steal their semen or something? Not take over their bodies and keep them trapped inside their own brains?" You hastily asked, as her fingers found the hamstring of your pants.

"Well, your flesh is willing but your mind is truly weak." She replied, giggling. "That's the reason why I trapped you here in the first place. From my monitoring of your actions over the past few months, you're always thinking lewd thoughts of the girls around you, but you're too weak to ever act on them physically. So I'm giving you a chance to enjoy yourself, after all this time!"

"WHU-WHU-WAIT A SECOND!" You yelled, causing the foundations of the Nightclub to tremble. "I'm really not following up with what you're saying. You mean I've had repressed sexual thoughts-"

"Yes."

"Of the people that I work VERY closely with-"

"Yes."

"So much so that I'd like to have very non-workplace friendly interactions with them."

"You said it yourself."

"I'm afraid you must be absolutely mistaken. As their manager and close friend, I refu-." Your words were cut short by Succu-Chaeryeong putting a finger to your lip.

She closed the gap, her thousand-yard stare boring a hole through your defences as the two of you locked eyes, her jet black orbs screaming a lusty passion unlike any you'd ever seen before. Her rosy flush only accentuated her features, that little angel-turned-devil smile of hers deafening the alarm bells in your head crying for you to flee. Under her spell, the amber glow of the empty nightclub echoed the growing heat in your loins as she inched her face closer and closer to yours. Her sweet lavender perfume draped over your nostrils like a silken cloth, threatening to lure you in with its charm before eating away at what was left of your spirit.

You instinctively closed your eyes and pursed your lips, expecting Chaeryeong to begin the night with the most intense buildup to a kiss, but instead, she leaned away from your lips at the last second, aiming for your ears. Kinky, you thought to yourself, as you felt her warm alcohol breath caress your sideburns.

In what could only be described as a girly, half-assed impression of Tom Ellis, Chaeryeong whispered, "What is it you truly desire?"

You felt the succubus’s intent like a serpent rummaging past your larynx, up through your cerebellum, before forcefully stealing the words out of you. You felt your vocal cords move on their own accord, powerless to halt their advance.

"I want to have sex with the members of (G)I-DLE."

You hurriedly slammed your palm over your mouth asChaeryeong’s devilish grin spread even wider across her face. She leaned back and gestured towards the mezzanine behind you.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At her command, the headlights above each of the doors flickered to life one by one, a neon white glow cast over each unique frame.

"You have until sunrise to fulfil your desires. Fail to do so, and you'll surrender all bodily control to me." Chaeryeong replied, arching her back to tuck in her wings and tail. "Not all of the doors will offer you a pleasant plot experience, but I ensure you, the sex will be awesome."

You gulped. Looking at the liquor display you noticed a tiny brass alarm clock had materialised next to the bottle of Scotch Whiskey, reading 9:35 pm. Just over 8 hours for 6 girls? This was gonna be tight no matter how you looked at it.

"Ok. One last question. Will the sex I have with any of these girls carry on any consequences into the real world?"

Chaeryeong sat back on her barstool, staring at her whiskey glass. "Nope. You're absolved of all consequences while in here. This is just a part of your mental psyche that I've used to construct this experience out of. In essence, none of this is real. Feel free to nut in as many of the girls as you want." She took another sip of her whiskey glass before setting it back down on the counter.

“Can I get your word that my girlfriend won’t be hearing a word of this?” You ask Chaeryeong.

“My lips are sealed.” She replies back, mimicking a zipper sliding across her lips. “Unfortunately, theirs might not be.” She smiles, before gesturing to the 6 doors on the upper mezzanine.

"Oh, and fair warning, I will be watching your performance throughout the night. I sincerely hope you won't disappoint me. It wouldn't be nice to disappoint all seven girls with your pathetic sex drive before the night is up." Chaeryeong said, her eyes glinting with a sadistic sparkle like she was watching someone torture an innocent child. And she liked it.

Somehow that really turns me on.

You downed the rest of your whiskey, wondering how this tasteless beverage managed to get Chaeryeong so tipsy. Whirling around, you took in a last look at the nightclub before you made your way up the stairs to the mezzanine.

Enjoy~

The last words of Succu-Chaeryeong echoed throughout the nightclub as you felt the pressure of a vacuum spontaneously manifest behind you. She left behind nothing but the carnage of broken glass shards and spilt alcohol and a faint lavender scent lingering in the air.

Walking to the doors, you felt incredibly intimidated by the looming doors of “Lion”, the etched lions screaming like they would tear your hand off if you got too close. On the other hand, the washed-out cabin door of “Polaroid” gave you 90s-breakup-song vibes that you just didn’t feel like dealing with so early in the night.

The other four doors felt a little more manageable, given their simple designs and “relatively” less imposing aesthetics, but you still felt conflicted.

Go big and potentially come home with more than one hole in your rear, or start small to try and ease yourself into the rhythm of things.

The choice is yours.

[lovely-echoo]

Sleepy Bois Inc x FranBow!Reader

In-game AU

Part 1/? Pt.2

Plantonic!SBI x Young!Reader

(10/11 years old)

OneShot/Drabble(?)

Genderneutral reader (they/them) 💜

INFO; If you haven't played or seen game play of Fran Bow then you can skip this if you'd like. If you don't care then go ahead.

Summary; Basically if you've seen/played the game you should know how this goes, you take place of Fran. So you go/went through the same things she did and you still have Mr. Midnight. This takes place while Fran is still in the mental hospital and then got teleported near the SBI.

Honestly I kept thinking about this but was afraid to request it to anyone so I'm doing it my myself-

If I get any info wrong, I'm sorry! I rewatched Markiplier's game play so it shouldn't be way off.

P.s not everything is described the same.

(^ art by sunquids on twt)

CW/TW: mentions/includes of cussing, gore, death, blood, consumption of medication, sexual assault (brief mentions of Damian/The King)

Fluff/Normal

(Angst if you squint)

How you ended up there - How you met Philza and Technoblade

As you were walking around the hospital, you decided to take a pill to see if it'll help.

You watched as your vision blurred and some sort of demonic noises rang in your ears.

After a few seconds your vision cleared up, you took a look around the front desk.

The once dull and lifeless room had turned into this even duller and just plain deathly like room.

Blood was everywhere, random body parts of babies where thrown around. A skeletal figure was hung with what looked like an umbilical cord wrapped around its thin bones, it was connected to this baby covered by a blue blanket.

Just about everything looked grotesque.

Suddenly the floor ahead of you opened and this slimy black tentacle like arm grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in.

It seemed you may have passed out during your fall because you woke up to the sounds of hissing and supposedly two men.

Oh and let's not forget the killer headache causing the ringing in your ears. :)

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, the light around you seemed much brighter than before.

You looked at the two men in front of you and then glanced down, you spotted Mr. Midnight!

His fur was spiked up and his ears were flat against his head. He seemed to be trying to protect you from the men.

Ignoring their presence you immediately scooped up your precious fur baby in your arms.

Your mind completely forgot about the fact there are two strange looking men in front of you.

A few droplets of water dripped down your (S/C) cheeks onto your (F/C) shirt/dress.

You started crying, so much happened in a short period of time and you found your cat you oh so desperately tried to find.

It panicked one of the adults. Said adult was an average tall man with slightly longer blond hair than average, he also had a green and white striped bucket hat. But what stuck out the most was the large pair of wings behind his back.

At first you thought that it was your pills fault but everywhere around you looked….

Normal?

It seemed like your meds wore off while you supposedly passed out.

But that doesn’t help or ease you at all. If the side effects wore off then how the hell did he have wings?!

The blond walked towards you slowly, like you were an injured puppy. His blue eyes roamed around your body, as if studying your every mouvements.

The other man who was beside him earlier seemed to tense up and looked at him as if he grew another head. He was on edge you assumed.

But he looked even weirder to you. He had long pink hair tied into a loose braid falling over his shoulder. Was it natural? He also had tusks peeking out from his bottom lip, they were large but not enough to be in the way. His skin seemed to be on the pinker side, it was roughed up with scars and calloused in certain areas. You noticed he had pig ears poking out his crown. Is he a king of sorts? Wait, that reminds you of someome... Oh! The king of course!

Ah yes, the king. You quite missed him actually, he was playful and let you use his cane- sword to get a key. But he didn't know about that part. You wonder if he's doing alright right know, the asylum sucks. And the shadow thing next to him said weird things to. Who exactly is the holy man? Why'd the shadow say he took off his clothes?

You couldn't dwell on it to much as you got distracted by the approaching man.

He reached out his hand to stop the winged male. “Phil-”

But the man named ‘Phil’ interrupted the crowned male by putting up his hand. He stopped his hand and let it limp to his side.

“It’s alright Tech, they seem harmless.” ‘Phil’ reassured, though ‘Tech’ nodded his head with a stern expression. There was still hesitance in his sharp red eyes.

‘Phil’ took the same hand he put up and reached it out to you. A soft and kind look in his eyes, you could’ve gotten lost in them if you weren’t careful.

“You alright there kid?” He asked, crouching down to meet your height from where you sat.

“Y-yeah, I think so…” You winced, your throat was hoarse and dry. You peered at ‘Phil’ as he took out this glass bottle with what you assumed was water.

He handed you the fragile bottle, he saw the look of hesitance in your childlike eyes. But something about them set off alarms in his head, they were dull. There’s nothing wrong with that of course! But they were too dull, at least for a mere kid.

He recognized a glint of trauma in your (Eye Shape) eyes, those beautiful (E/C) orbs had seen something they shouldn’t have. Haven’t they?

“Don’t worry mate, it’s fresh water.” He examined the way you handled the cork, you were inexperienced. He could tell you’ve never needed to do it, but why? It’s really the only way so far to keep water with you.

Did you not have any?

While he was lost in thought, you just had noticed he had an accent of sorts. Nothing wrong with it, you've just never heard of someone with it.

(^ Ignore that if you are british)

While the winged male was off in his own world the piglin hybrid watched as you sniffed the clear liquid in suspicion before letting your cat smell it as if you were looking for their approval.

To his surprise they did give it to you, the black cat nodded it’s head and squeaked out a meow. That strangely sounded like a yes- but he dismissed the thought. Probably was just the voices fucking with him.

You gulped down the water as if you hadn’t had any for months.

‘Why tf are they so desperate-’ ‘lowkey kinda concerned lmao’ ‘they look like they’d be an orphan tho’ ‘lmao maybe’ ‘idc about the kid, i want the cat’ ‘absolutely-’ ‘Nah fuck the cat, im allergic.’ ‘lol and?’ 'PFT ANY ASKERS???'

Those were all different voices speaking and overlapping each other.

Technoblade sighed as he glanced at his father, he knew him on the back of his hand. He let him be and slowly walked next to Phil and kneeled down.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked, taking the empty bottle you had handed him. “(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n)/Bow.” You bluntly answered, looking at him in the eyes. He noticed how bloodshot they were, I mean you did cry not even 5 minutes ago.

"What's yours?" You questioned tilting your head a bit in the process.

Unbeknownst to you, some voices in a certain someone's head were losing their shit, squealing and chanting ‘protecc tiny bean’ over and over again.

"The name's Technoblade, but you can call me Techno." Strange name in your book but your not the one to judge. You simply nodded your head in acknowledgement.

"That guy is Philza, but you can call him Phil." He pointed his thumb to the unfocused man. Technoblade or Techno- cleared his throat.

“You’ve got somewhere to stay? Where are your parents?” “Why can’t you mind your business?”

Techno’s eyes twitched in annoyance and his teeth clenched to hold back any crude words.

Although he noticed the flash of pain in those dull (E/C) orbs of the mentions of your parents.

He sighed once again, something you noticed he did a lot. At least, so far he did.

“Look kid, do you have a place to stay or not?”

And that's how you ended up meeting your new family. . . <3

I may include a taglist if anyone's up to be tagged lmao

[toomanythought]

A critique of the magic knight captain's outfits because that's the kind of mood I'm in.

1. Charlotte

I've decided that she has the best outfit of anyone here.

She's got several colors going on, but most of them are neutral so It's ok

Blue and silver with gold accents isn't really a color scheme you can go wrong with

Could use a little more armor, but overall a rather practical look

Could stand to loose the helmet but overall not bad

10/10 something I would wear

2. Dorothy

I'm loving the energy of the pink in this one.

Honestly very pretty aesthetic

Not a lot going on, pretty much only pink w/ some black and white accents (There are two different shades of pink but that's ok because they're in separate pieces and nothing else is going on)

The green on her hat really helps make the pink less overwhelming, a great choice

Minus points because those shorts look a little bit like underwear and her boots should probably be black.

9/10 wouldn't wear it but I'd recommend a friend

3. The Vermilions:

It's pretty much the exact same outfit but Mereoleona wears it so much better.

The red and orange is kind of a bad combo, and I thought it was basic knowledge that redheads should avoid wearing red

The blue does work to cut this a bit though, so it's not as overwhelming as it could be

Kinda iffy on the pink sash. It really should match the cape by outfit laws, but I think that would put too much red in the entire thing

Fuegoleon you're pretty but that outfit really isn't doing it for you. Minus points for the lack of titty window. In the future show more skin. 6/10

Like I said, it's basically the same outfit, but Mereoleona wears it with a very different energy and manages to make it look good. I get pirate queen vibes. 8.5/10

Overall 7/10; I might wear elements of it.

4. Rill

The clothing needs a different style/cut but the colors are decent.

His cape doesn't class with his hair, and he's got the light colors well balanced with the dark

He looks like he's outgrown his pants though

Like seriously

They're a bit too short to be wearing without boots

And at least wear some socks to cover it up

Gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and say he hit a growth spirt and Walter hasn't had time to let out the hems

Shoes make me think of Tinker belle

6/10 I like the colors but he really needs different pants, and maybe shoes

5. Yami

Surprisingly not the worst but I am not without criticism.

He's got an aesthetic going that allows him to get away with a bit

As an outfit it's ok, but there's a distinct lack of professionalism going on

Sir are you really going to wear nothing but a tank top 24/7?

Also the over pant thingies make it look like he's wet himself

I like the creativity with the squad robe. No one else wears it like that

His outfit was better when he was with the Grey Deer

Can' figure out what's up with those boots

5/10. I'd never recommend wearing it but it's got a practicality to it.

6. Nozel

My dude you're rich enough to afford a stylist.

We're not even talking about the hair at this point, there are so many things that need straightened out

The ocean/teal blue he's got going on does not work with the periwinkle.

Also what's up with the pant leg cut outs. I really fail to understand the practicality of them

Why are there sandals

We are fighting people

Please wear close toed shoes

Also feathers and fur? Get it together my dude

While we're at it the feathers are kinda ugly in arrangement

3/10 I feel like someone failed to successfully merge two different outfits together.

7. Kaiser

I don't have a lot to say. It's pretty bland.

Very shapeless and fluffy

I'm honestly getting hot just looking at it

Aside from the buttons + gloves and squad robe, there's not much going on

I don't have many critiques of the squad robe. It's purple and yellow. Nothing too horrible.

5/10. Very generic and boring. Don't like at all but it's hard to come up with concrete bad things

8. Jack

Sir do you understand the purpose of clothes

It looks like an armored outfit so you get practicality points

What is up with all the leather straps

They literally serve no purpose

Please put on a proper shirt that covers your midriff

The pants/shoes combo is kinda sketchy

He needs to have either the black or the green running all the way up

Bracelets?

2/10. It's just... ugly

9. William

Sir I know your life sucks but please learn how to dress yourself. Your squad wears the uniform too and you aren't doing them any favors.

Feathers and fluff. Are you a bird dude? Is that your magic? No. It's trees. I know you like birds but you don't need to look like one

Please don't get me started on the colors

For posterity's sake I will now list every color contained within this outfit:

White

Gold

Red

Dark Red

Tan? Light gold?

Dark blue

Lighter blue (but only in one place and it's not touching the dark blue)

Purple. Because this outfit needed some more pizzazz.

White

Black

Get some pink and green and you'll be representing all the squads with ease

The style and cut is actually pretty good but the colors are beyond horrid

He tells Julius that the mask is tacky and then continues to wear it

And also match the rest of his clothing to it

He should have kept the mask as a statement piece and kept the outfit as one or two colors.

Honestly a very in character outfit because it demonstrates his inability to choose a side

3/10 I guess. I like some things about it but there's just too much going on. Bad overall outfit. Needs help desperately. Ask Mimosa. I have a feeling she realized it was bad.

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

wbw!! for any wip, what kind of clothes do your characters wear? how does region/class/event impact that? [@rodentwrites]

Happy WBW!

I'll talk about my FSF wip cuz that's the one I've introduced lol. I will just move through each book in my series chronologically.

In General Cinderella:

Because Dinvirty is the army capital, and one of the coldest regions (being in the valley of a mountain range) with a ton of snow most of the year, there's lots of armor, thick leather, and furs. Lots of viking vibes, while also incorporating some Roman elements as well- especially when it comes to the armor soldiers wear.

Throughout the book, Tris is usually wearing her armor. It's old and rusty armor, but it does fit her and do the job it's supposed to. Towards the end, she gets a magical set of glass armor that is enchanted to be unbreakable (of course there are limits and side effects). She wears this in the last fight of the tournament, where one of the shoulder plates gets knocked off and breaks. Prince Kaye has the armor plate put back together with gold filling, and the glass armor set is what Tris wears for most of the series from there.

Being in the royal family, Kaye is usually wearing thick furs, and his big blanket like cloak for most of the book and series.

In Snow Knight:

Goke is in a colder region, similarly to Dinvirty, but the seasons have semi regular patterns and appropriate temperatures (winter is cold and lasts for one fourth of the year, summer is hotter and lasts for a fourth of the year, etc). The climate is a lot like Arendelle from Frozen in my mind, as far as seasons go.

Due to the climate, fashion in Goke is similar to Dinvirty, with lots of furs and leather for the cold, but they also have their own style here, which has a lot of medieval Gothic vibes- especially when it comes to dresses and fancy suits.

Because they are nobility/royalty, Snow and Lan have a wide range of clothing throughout the book- from fancy silks to leather tunics and wool pants for the woods to Snow's shiny green armor with gold accents.

In the Little Pirate:

Lots of pirate fashion, since our characters are on the high seas of Eltya, with lots of room to move, and light fabric to compensate for the heat. If you need visual reference, think Pirates of the Caribbean.

Cassandra, Erica, and the rest of the crew wear typical 1700's pirate garb, with some more personal elements. Cassandra has the usual captain's coat, worn across her shoulders without putting her arms through for extra mobility (she ties it across her shoulder so it stays in place), along with a captain's hat. Erica's clothes are a mish-mash of old and damaged luxury items, including a stained white silk shirt with torn sleeves, and an old red scarf she ties her hair back with.

When they move to the mainland for the last three books, some changes to their wardrobe obviously must be made to compensate for the cooler climate that they are not used to, and they add on stuff *actually* borrowed from the others.

In The Lord's Son and the Frog:

Max and Prince Monty both come from noble families, so lots of silks and fancy clothes for these boys. The clothes in this kingdom give very much 1700's royalty vibes, specifically French fashion from this time period (but without the ugly white wigs men wear lol). It is a little bit hotter in that region, at least compared to Dinvirty and Goke, so the clothes are made to fit loosely and with lighter fabric.

Handsome and the Beast

I loved the french countryside vibes that the Disney movie had, and I wanted that to carry over to my retelling, at least to Elliot and his village. The rest of the fashion in the story, mainly Hestia's wardrobe and stuff in her backstory, is heavily inspired by the Romanov dynasty in Russia and the Anastatisa movie- those are the fashion vibes I want her to have. It is a bit colder in that region, especially the forest, so furs do start to pop up during the winter, but are put away for the summer.

Elliot wears similar clothes to what Belle wore in the disney movie (but with trousers instead of a skirt), with the classic blue because that's nice. When he ends up in Hestia's castle, his wardrobe becomes more like what Hestia's is in terms of clothing items, but it's still influenced by his French countryside style.

They wear pretty much those clothes for the rest of the story, with some changes and alterations as their clothes get banged up and dirtied on the adventure, and they travel to new climates.

In Sleeping Beauty's Bodyguard:

This is the hottest and most humid region in Eltya except for the sea and Sands of Doom. It rarely snows, and it's also very humid because of how low it is in elevation compared to the other kingdoms, and closer to the sea. This causes clothing to be made as thin, light, and loose as possible. Even during the winter, one or two more thin layers is all you will need, even if you get cold easily. The fashion is heavily inspired by medieval clothing, with a ton of King Arthur and Robin Hood vibes.

Being royalty, Sapphire wears a lot of silks, velvet, etc with embroidery and fancy stuff added. Usually silk because that's the lightest and thinnest. All of her dresses have very big and wide skirts to allow lots of airflow, and maybe one or two have long sleeves to protect her arms from sunburn. She's supposed to wear silk slippers, but she usually wears lace up leather boots that are great for running and exploring in. She's also supposed to wear a tiara, but she tends to ditch it, and sometimes replaces it with a flower crown.

Raven is in the army, which regulates their soldiers' clothing for efficiency, so he's usually wearing a leather tunic or his knight's armor, usually the leather because that's lightest and the armor is hotter. He wears the leather or armor over tough cotton that is light and airy while also durable and long lasting, plus trousers/leggings. Because of army regulations, it's also pretty much the only clothes he has, other than an extra shirt and set of trousers/leggings or two (this makes it easy for the soldiers to pack up and march). He ends up sleeping in the shirt/trousers or leggings, but the armor usually keeps those clean enough during the day. His leather boots are built for combat, also army regulated.

In the last three books they add stuff for the new climates, and Sapphire also tears off the bottom half of her skirts for extra mobility and wears leggings underneath. She also braids her hair back more often to keep it out of her face during combat.

Triveya:

She's introduced in the last three books, and is the resident magic expert.

Triveya wears wizard robes, usually dark blue, that are loose and soft, making them extra comfy. She also wears a ton of charms around her neck and wrists, as well as in her robe pockets. She doesn't change this much, even when it gets hot, because the robe is soft and comfy (she can use magic to make it colder anyway). She wears soft leather boots that she's had for years as well.

Thank you so much for the ask @rodentwrites !

[redwinterroses]

Could you do something with 3rd Life Joel?

Harley I saw your reply on my 2AM post last night and YES the weird Joel thing IS from your ask. XD I had no idea what to do with this originally because Joel has a lot of good moments but I really wasn't in the mood to do much angsty with him (Joel kind of... exudes anti-angst. He's just so factual about everything and the sarcasm is Off The Charts. I love it.)

But I was getting ready to sleep and randomly scrolled past a post about the myth of Black Shuck and the Wild Hunt and my brain was suddenly possessed by a wild spirit of fanfiction so.... Here. Have this Very Odd piece.

(It works best if you read it in a messy Irish accent, lol.)

(also this may be a lead-up to my Trickster God Scar and Archangel Grian thing someday. We'll see.)

~*~

The Wild Hunt

.

.

.

Listen here, child, and I’ll tell ya a tale: the tale of the Wolf King, and a Wild Hunt.

What? Ya know the story? Sit down and hush—you ain’t heard it the way I’ll tell it. And I should know: I seen him myself.

Would ya call yer old granny a liar? For shame. Sit down, you. Eat yer cookie. Listen.

(don’t pinch yer brother, ya nugget, or no more cookies for you.)

He were born out of flames and fire and smoke, y’see. Born when he died, t’be fair, but born in fire all the same. ‘Twas the Grave Maiden what set his roof aflame, she an’ her undead hoard, and of course the Trickster was there as well—fat lot o’ good that did the Wolf King. But he chose his bed, and he laid in it, and we all reap his dreams thereafter.

So there he were, all newly grey and smoulderin’ and his eyes a’burnt like coals and fire and his belly growlin’ for revenge. But he weren’t the Wolf King, not yet—he were then only a lowly red, with naught but one life—like you or me.

(how’d he start with more than one? Well he were a god, weren’t he? Or he were meant to be. No, I don’t know who choses them things—prob’ly the Archangel but don’t tell the cleric you heard that from me. He don’t like me puttin’ the Angel over the Trickster or the Red King. Clerics don’t have much imagination, y’see.)

So what did he do with his one life? With his one, bloody, beatin’ red heart? “Well,” he says, he says to himself, “I need me an army, if I’m gonna take down the Grave Maiden.”

(Shush, child, don’t spoil the story. Yer brother don’t know how it ends.)

“I need me an army,” says he. “But no one will ally with me, and if they did: I’d kill them anyway—” y’see, he had taste for blood, woke with it in his teeth, like any good wolf. “—I’d kill them anyway, the whole world is my enemy.”

So instead of allies, he went to the wolves. And he went to the great da wolf and the great mam wolf, and he says to them, he says: “Give me some of yer children, to fight in my wars.”

And of course the wolves said that was crazy, they weren’t gonna send their children off with some grey-faced red-lifer on a quest to fight the gods. But the Wolf King—

(No, he weren’t the Wolf King yet. No, I don’t know what he were called before. He didn’t matter before.)

The Wolf King—who wasn’t the Wolf King yet—bared his bloody teeth at them wolves and growled at them and said in the words of wolves that they could send their children with him, or he could take ‘em on his own.

Now, wolves is wise—remember that, nugget—wolves is wise, and wolves is knowing. And they looked at this red in front of them and they were knowing that he weren’t lying. And they looked at this red and they were wise and said “Fine, alright, you can take any of ourn that’ll go with ye.”

“Fair enough,” says he. And wolf pups ain’t so wise and so knowing as their parents—remember that, nugget, parents know more’n you give ‘em grief for—so he left with his army: a passel o’ young, foolish wolves.

(Well. Some might say they was foolish. Some might say they was grand and brave and the best wolves to be born on this earth. Some might say that they can be both. Don’t ya go askin’ the cleric though.)

So there he be, this Wolf King and his pack. His army: his teeth and his claws. And now, on moonless nights, ye can hear ‘em: forever huntin’ for the Grave Maiden and her Fallen One and her hordes—she’s his sworn enemy, ya know. But that don’t stop him fightin’ with the other gods too.

He loves to chase the Red King over the mountains—sometimes ya can hear them in the night, howlin’ back and forth at each other, the wolves runnin’ the King and his Hand over the peaks and into the desert dunes. And sometimes the Red King comes after him and the pack too, o’course, but that’s a story for another night and older ears. It’s a bit too sad for cookies by the fire.

(No, love—yer mum’d kill me if I sang the Fall of the Wolf King with yer brother here. He’s too young for that tale.)

He’ll never defeat the Grave Maiden, and he’ll never catch the Red King, and he’ll never burn down all the Flower Kingdom no matter how many times he tries: that’s the nature o’ the gods, y’see, and it’s what makes us happier creatures. ‘Cause they can never finish their stories—they’re trapped in a forever dance of give and take, alliance and war, love and hate. But it’s all real, an’ it’s all true.

And believe me or not but cross my one bleedin’ heart and hope to die (that’s another thing not to repeat in front o’ the cleric, ya hear me, child?): I seen him.

I seen the Wolf King. Just once, but that were enough.

I seen him under the moonlight, racin’ across the moors with his bayin’ army at his back an’ at his front an’ all around him: a sea of white fur, frothin’ about like foam on the surf. All their eyes were burnin’ in the moonlight—I swear it on the Dragon herself. Burnin’ red, they was, like the very flames the Grave Maiden lit. They looked right at me, and I knew—I knew I were his next kill.

(The Wolf King ain’t nice, child. Of course he ain’t nice. He’s mad is what he is. And madmen don’t make for good people to meet when you’re crossing the moors alone of a night, on yer way home from a dance in Crastleton.)

(What do ya mean ya don’t want a sad story? The sad part’s over, child—clearly I didn’t get gobbled up by the Wolf King’s pack, or else who’d be here tellin’ ya this story now, I ask ya? Sit back down with yer sister and listen.)

So I seen him over the crest of the hill, with the moon a silver ha’penny in the sky above and the stars all a-glimmer and a-shinin’ like the lights of the Widow’s crown. And they came down the hill and they swept over me—all them wolves, all glory and soft and fang and hot breath on me face and I closed me eyes—I did!—and just waited for them to gobble me up.

But ya know what happened instead? ‘Course you don’t, that’s why I’m tellin’ ya. Instead o’ teeth and claws and my one life bleedin’ out on the moor… I hears a voice.

No, he didn’t say nothin’, it weren’t words. The Wolf King don’t use human words no more.

But he were laughin’.

Imagine that! Imagine me, not so much older than you, love, alone out on the moor and ringed about by the Wolf King’s army all a’swirlin’ and boundin’ around me: and the Wolf King laughs.

I couldn't help meself, though I'll never know why: but I laughed too.

And then he grabbed me by me arm and we ran.

Oh, my children. If I live to be a thousand I’ll never forget that night.

(Don’t you repeat this to the cleric. Or yer mother. They both think I’m dotty as a bat as it is.)

The Wolf King and his pack run faster than birds can fly—faster than horses, faster than hounds. Faster than I could run, even then: but it didn’t matter. They carried me along, light as a feather and more nimble than a hare. Over the mountain, down the vale, through the ruins of the Flower Kingdom—yes, I’ve seen the Flower Kingdom, but only by moonlight and we didn’t stop, but I heard later that there was fires again so he must have gotten his bite at the Widow and the Soldier when I weren’t lookin’.

And all the while, the whole pack was howlin’. Howlin’ like the front gale of a nor’easter comin’ up the coast: the wolves was howlin’, and the King was howlin’, and Void take me if I weren’t howlin’ too, just like this—

(Oh hush, child, that weren’t even so loud. End’s all, if you ain’t a skittish little creature—get back here and eat another cookie.)

We ran all night, runnin’ and howlin’ and leavin’ fire and fang in our wake. But it couldn’t last forever, as the Wolf King only wanted me runnin’ with him as long as it was sportin’, and even with the wolves carryin’ me along I did get tired. More tired than I’ve ever been before or since, I don’t mind tellin’ ya.

So come mornin’, come dawnin’ of the next day’s sun, I find myself back on the road to Crastleton. My dress were in tatters and my feet were a bleedin’ mess of cuts and blisters that never did hurt, my hair tangled with wind knots and wolf hair, and my throat hoarse from howlin’.

And just before he left, him swirlin’ about with a millin’ mess of wolves around his feet, the Wolf King looked at me—looked at me, I tell ya—and gave me a grin that were full of as many teeth as there are leaves in a tree. He tossed me this, and then he were gone—sweeping up and away off the moor like nothing more than a ghost in a dream.

(Here, look at it. What do you think it is? I’ve always said it’s a claw, but what kinda creature has silver claws, I ask you? Give that back to me now, child—it hasn’t left me side in six times so long as you’ve been alive, and it’ll be buried with me if I can get someone other than the cleric to do the job.)

So of course the Wolf King is real! And so the Trickster and the Archangel and the Grave Maiden and the Widow and the Soldier and the Red King and the Hand and all the rest of them. If ye’re very, very good, and very, very lucky, mayhap you’ll even see them one day.

Because of course, they might be gods, child. But in one way, they’re just like you and me: they’ve got but one life—red and bloodied and barin’ their teeth.

And the Wolf King runs forever, chasing after the Grave Maiden and her Fallen One and even the Traitor when the mood strikes him. He’ll never catch her, but she’ll never outrun him either. The Wolf King hunts forever.

Now—you finish up that cookie and run outside. I hear your mama callin’ for you. And remember: we don’t tell Mama anything Granny says about the cleric, alrighty?

Alrighty.

Goodnight, children—sleep tight; don’t let the phantoms bite.

And just maybe—if you’re real, real quiet—you might hear the howling.

Howl back.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 16)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2694 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 15 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Six weeks. That’s how much notice Bucky gave you until the wedding. You said yes to being his date before you had actually confirmed anything with work. The wedding was on the first Saturday in June but you would need to take off of work that Friday as well.

Technically one day off from Stark Industries wouldn’t be so bad and as predicted you were given the day easily. Unfortunately, you would have to take two days off at Metro-General and you really hoped that would be alright.

You hadn’t taken many days off since you began; a day for when you had food poisoning, another on the day of Wanda’s museum exhibit, but the hospital was a busy place and Elena was notoriously strict. Plus the more days you took off meant the more hours you would have to make up, which meant the longer it would take to fulfill your final requirement before graduating.

Once again, Marya’s words come to mind. Life will not wait for you so you needed to live it in the moment. It’s only two days.

With renewed confidence you knocked on Elena’s door and asked for the days off.

“Vacation?” she wondered.

“It’s for a wedding actually.”

Her dark eyes lit up at your answer. “Oh very nice. Where is it?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Somewhere in Long Island,” you chuckled, explaining that you were asked by a close friend to be his date.

After all these months of working together you realized this was the most personal conversation you’ve ever had with Elena. You had always tried to respect the boundaries of her as your boss but it was surprising as she seemed to open up first, letting down the guard she had carefully built up to protect herself while working in this field. Her approach carried over with her co-workers up until now.

“Mack was a close friend of mine once...” she said, turning the picture frame on her desk around towards you.

The photo showed her in the arms of a medium-brown skinned man with a dark beard and shaved head. Her whole face was smiling as she stared into his eyes and he was looking back at her like she was the only thing that gave meaning to life. Judging by their clothes you realized this was a wedding photo.

“You’re married? Since when?” You may have blurted that out a little bit louder than you expected but it was a bit of a shock considering she doesn’t wear a ring.

“Since I asked him,” she laughed. “Two years now, but we’ve been together for six and friends for a lot longer than that.”

Ahh now you understand what she was implying. “It’s not like that with me and Bucky. Well…” You bit your lip with uncertainty. “I don’t know. We’re friends and we kissed once but he’s dating other people and–”

“Yet he asked you to be his date.” She smirked, giving you a knowing stare.

Elena had given you the days off but part of you wished she didn’t. On the surface, Bucky was just a friend asking another friend for a favor but the more you thought about your history the more conflicted you felt.

From the moment he’s come into your life you’ve felt something towards Bucky. Sure his looks were undeniable but there was so much more about him. The passion he had for music matched what you felt for social work, and you connected, both of you realizing that each field plays an important role in helping people.

The more your friendship grew it felt like you were always meant to be in each other’s lives and you couldn’t imagine life without Bucky since he had become such a huge part of it. But you weren’t anything more than friends. That’s all.

The warm sun shines directly into your eyes as you exit the subway, trying your best to hear Peggy over the increased amount of people on the street. New York was always crowded but warm weather was a magnet that seemed to pull everyone out of their homes, drawing them outdoors to enjoy the beautiful day.

With Wanda on your left the three of you talk plans for Memorial Day weekend; it’s two weeks away and you’re trying to organize something for everyone to do together.

“I’m not sure if Sam has off or not yet but I do have some news,” Wanda said enticingly, biting her lip to contain her excitement. So many thoughts ran through your head as you waited for her to drop the details. “Sam and I are gonna move in together!”

“Oh Wanda, that’s brilliant!” Peggy said, her red painted lips stretching across her face in a beaming smile.

“I’m so happy for you two! When are you moving? And where?” you asked.

“His apartment is bigger so I’m moving there, hopefully by the end of the month but we’ll see. It’s hard with his schedule sometimes but I definitely want to be out as soon as possible.”

You offered assistance to help her pack and Peggy suggested making it a night with girls, with wine as a little motivation. “Yes, perfect!” Wanda agreed.

If only finding a dress for the wedding was as easy as helping Wanda move. You had already made a few trips to the department stores, trying on the perfect dress that fit like a dream and made you look incredible. Unfortunately, it cost more than your rent so it went back on the rack.

Your disappointing trip was made a little better by the promise of your friends to help you which is what you were doing now. One more block to go and you would be at the boutique you’ve never heard of before where Natasha was meeting you.

Opening the doors made you a little concerned. The place looked like it was from another planet. The glossy black ceiling stood in contrast to the bright white walls that were made up of three dimensional geometric tiles.

Silver accented the space from the large framed mirrors that leaned against the walls to the velvet pewter asymmetrically curved couch outside the dressing room. The clothes themselves looked normal at least, dresses of all kinds displayed on racks within silver frames, making them look like they were encased in glass.

Peggy and Wanda spread out to look for dresses, trying to find ones that resembled the overpriced gown you had only taken a selfie of to remember it by. Immediately you were drawn to a rack of flowy pastel colored ones, draping a few different styles over your arm.

In the middle of your search you heard Natasha call your name, and turning around to greet her you didn’t expect to see an unfamiliar face. She stood next to a man that towered over her small frame. A shock of ice blonde hair and matching bleached eyebrows caught your attention first before you moved on to his outfit, a red vest, leather pants and fur coat that seemed to only have one sleeve.

“Y/N, this is Taneleer Tivan, owner of The Tivan Collection,” she whispered the last line in a way as if you were meant to know who he was.

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” you said, though his facial expression didn’t change.

Though his eyes were surrounded by a smudge of dark liner you were able to see clearly the way he looked down in disgust at the dresses you held.

“Carina!” he shouted, and a moment later a girl came running forward. She wore a white vinyl dress that looked more like something you expected the store to sell, although her outfit is much more subdued than her boss’s.

She waited in silence with her hands clasped in front of her, in what seemed like a routine she was quite familiar with. “These are all wrong,” Taneleer said to you and suddenly the dresses were being taken out of your hands by his assistant. “I have much better in my collection.”

To your shock Carina was beside you again, ushering you towards a different section of racks that had more appropriate gowns despite neither her or her boss knowing what event you were shopping for. Thinking back, the pastels might have been a bit too casual anyway.

As you perused the new section you found an assortment of beautiful dresses, some absolutely stunning ones that had you worrying about the price. Natasha can certainly afford a lot more than you but glancing down at the tag you were surprised to see how reasonable things were. You took out a few jewel toned ones to try on that caught your eye.

“Y/N, what do you think of these?”

Peggy’s soft voice made you turn around. The first dress she held up was a satin one shoulder gown in black.

“Oh I like the design,” you said, pointing to the ruffles falling from the shoulder.

The next one she held up was a shimmering emerald dress whose classic mermaid style made you feel like you should be going to the Oscars instead of a wedding.

“Peggy, that’s too formal!” Wanda chimed in, huffing as she came over with more than a half dozen sparkly dresses.

She made room on the nearest rack to hang them, excitedly showing each one off to you. The first was a gorgeous sequined dress, rose gold sparkling in the light. It was undeniably beautiful but you had reservations. You were a guest at someone’s wedding and didn’t want to draw too much attention.

“This one is similar but you’ll see the difference,” she added, holding up another rose gold sequined dress, this one with a plunging V-neckline and a low open back.

“Wanda, that’s…” You stopped yourself from saying anything, grimacing uncomfortably at the dress that was so wrong.

“That looks like a slutty prom dress,” Natasha laughed, saying the thoughts you didn’t say aloud.

Wanda scrunched her face at Natasha before continuing with the next set of dresses. They were less eye catching as the others but still in the sparkly realm. You set aside a shimmering off the shoulder dress in turquoise that looked more like the ocean glittering in sunshine. The neckline was still a bit low but the back was more appropriately cut.

Natasha handed you one dress, a stunning red gown of flowing chiffon with a beautifully embellished bodice of lace and beading. The high neck of the dress complimented the tasteful open back design.

“Okay I’m getting overwhelmed. I have to start trying things on.”

With dresses in tow you made your way inside the fitting room and closed the curtain. Natasha sat across from Peggy and Wanda, checking work emails from her phone despite it being Sunday.

“Nat, did you get your wedding dress from here?” Wanda curiously wondered as her eyes roamed the store.

Her lips pursed as she took a deep breath. “I haven’t found a dress yet. I think we might have to push off the wedding again.”

“What was that?” you said, pushing open the curtains.

Peggy’s face lit up with a smile as you stepped out in a purple dress with lace detailing on the bodice. “You look beautiful!”

Your head turned towards the larger mirrors for a second to admire how you looked in the dress before you remembered the muffled conversation you heard through the curtain.

“Wait, Tash, did you say you’re pushing off the wedding again?”

She huffed loudly, leaning over and covering the frustration on her face with her hands. When she finally lifted her head you saw the desperation in her eyes. “I’m ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go to the courthouse.”

With Natasha’s ever increasing workload you’re quite surprised she hasn’t done this already. It doesn’t seem like she and Clint have made any progress since you’ve known them.

“Forget me,” she said, waving her hand as if to push the burdensome thoughts away. “That dress is pretty but there’s no wow factor.”

You looked in the mirror, realizing she was right. The next dress you put on was the red one Natasha picked out and that one definitely wowed but not in a good way. The bodice of the dress had an uneven cut that exposed part of your sides making you feel uncomfortable.

The one shoulder dress Peggy picked out was too tight but even if there was another size you didn’t like the satin. Wanda’s sparkly dress was a maybe but you weren’t completely sold on it yet. After changing in and out of a few more dresses you started to sweat and all you wanted to do was leave.

While hanging the dress you just stepped out of back up you saw there was one more left and your eyes lit up. You don’t remember grabbing this dress but it was meant to be from the moment you slipped it on.

It was a beautiful navy blue gown, with fluttering ruffles down the modest V-neck that also mirrored the back. Compared to some of the others this was a much simpler dress but there was something about it that felt right. It fit like a dream, flattering every part of you while still allowing for movement. Weddings mean dancing and the thought of dancing with Bucky made goosebumps prickle all over your skin.

As you opened the curtain you saw everyone’s jaws drop, their eyes lighting up as you stood in front of them.

“This! This is it!”

“You really think?” you asked, looking over your shoulder to see how it looks from behind.

Peggy nodded her head, “Definitely. It’s perfect.”

“Bucky’s going to love it,” Natasha added.

You rolled your eyes, missing the knowing look the three of them shared. “Guys, this isn’t for Bucky. I want to look good for myself.”

“And you do,” Wanda said, “But he’ll also appreciate how good your ass looks in that, damn!”

Rolling your eyes as they burst out laughing, you admired yourself in the dress a little longer knowing this is the one. You went back into the dressing room with Bucky on your mind. Sure, he might stare at you all night in this dress but the truth is it doesn’t mean much more than that.

Bucky was actively dating and the only reason you’re going with him to the wedding is so he doesn’t spend a weekend with someone he really doesn’t know. Panic washes over you as you worry about the near future. What if he meets someone he really gets along with before the wedding and he resents the fact that he asked you to go. What if he uninvites you? What if–

“Hey I found a really cute clutch to go with the dress,” Wanda said through the curtain.

You finished getting dressed, grabbing the dresses you didn’t want first. Opening the curtain you found Carina waiting beside Wanda, ready to take the dresses from you. You thanked her and took the dress you were buying, holding it up next to the clutch Wanda found. It was glittering gold with a metal trim on the opening.

“Oooh I love it.”

Carina was waiting silently at the register in anticipation of you bringing everything up to pay. As you took care of that Natasha said goodbye to Taneleer, kissing him on both cheeks. You thanked him as well before leaving and his mouth curved into the slightest smile.

Late lunch with the girls went by faster than you expected and you were happy to finally be home, hanging up the dress in your closet. You knew you had shoes that would pair well with it somewhere in your closet, a search meant for another day.

Before bed you decided to text Bucky, even though part of you was hesitant about it. You typed away quickly, sending the text and turning off your phone before he could respond. From the other side of the wall Bucky smiled when he saw a notification with your name.

You: Hope your suit game is good because I just bought my dress and it’s 🔥🔥

He couldn’t wait.

PART 17

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Rating Genshin character designs pt.1

I am by no means a professional character designer, hell I’m not even a professional artist (I’m self taught) but I just really wanna do this become Genshin Impact is home to some of my favourite character designs and some that I fucking hate. So let’s get into them 

Jean

I fucking hate it

Don’t get me wrong, I love Jean, she carries my fucking team and I’ve maxed out my friendship with her. She’s a great character and has a great presence in the story, I can see why a lot of characters respect her, and I really hope to see more of her. 

But what the fuck is this design???

Basic blonde bitch face, I don’t even fucking know what’s going on with her outfit. I just really really really REALLY hate her tights. I don’t know why, but I have a vendetta against tights. Maybe it’s because I grew up in BC where girls consider tights to be fashionable, but I fucking hate tights. White tights especially since more often than not they’re transparent. 

I don’t know what it is, but I just don’t vibe with the colour scheme, ya feel me? There’s a rule with character design that I learned, which is have one main colour, and then have a secondary colour, and then have other colours that support those two colours. Jean is like... I can’t tell is her main colour is white or blue. The colour placement is sort of all over the place. 

Jean is just basic and it just doesn’t stand out when you compare her to the other characters. I just feel like she should look better than this, she’s the acting grandmaster of the knights for crying out loud, and yet she looks like a generic background character. 

She looks like Saber from the Fate series, I feel like she’s just so plain and there wasn’t really anything put into her design. Her in game model looks a bit better but it’s still kinda ‘meh.’

Like what does this outfit tell you about the character? Nothing! She doesn’t look like a powerful figure, you can’t tell she’s gentle and graceful, it doesn’t tell you that she’s a leader or tells you about how she carries herself. All her design says is “Hi I’m disposable blonde with a sword no. 235″ 

With all of the negatives, I do have to say that her design does a good job of directing you to look at her face. The colar and the way her hair frames her face is great but then again, her face isn’t much to look at. 

Kaeya

Ok, we have so much to unpack here because I LOVE Kaeya’s design

I mean look at him! Right away you can tell what he’s like! He screams shady, flirty, and eccentric! 

One qualm I do have is that he looks more like a pirate than a knight, with the fur, buckles, and details, but I guess that’s fine. At least he doesn’t look basic or forgettable. And the design is a bit confusing but even then it still tells you a lot about him. 

The colour placement is smart and he looks very cohesive and put together, nothing looks out of place. Kaeya’s tanned skin contrasts the cooler values perfectly and I’m honestly sad that we don’t get to see him too much. 

It’s really a shame Kaeya isn’t more important and that Mihoyo doesn’t promote him the way they do the other characters (Noelle, Diluc, Zhongli, Xiangling and Fischl) He’s even overlooked by the community which is kind of sad. 

Real talk though he kind of reminds me of Sinbad from Magi. Maybe not the same level of himbo energy, but the whole shady, manipulative, womanizer that pretends to be good thing is there. 

But yeah, Kaeya’s design is great and I love him so much plz give him more screen time-

Albedo 

They really did my boy dirty. Seriously, he looks so fucking fine in all of his art, but then you have his in game model and he looks all greasy and weird. Someone said that Albedo with the adult male model would have worked better and honestly I agree. 

But anyways! Let’s talk design!

Albedo’s colour scheme is simple but works well together, he very much looks like someone who works in a lab with his long white coat, but other than that he looks like a swordsman. It works really well for him since he is a captain in the knights of favonious as well as an alchemist. 

That’s all well and good, it tells you his occupation but it doesn’t really tell you about his personality. Like if I were to show you this guy without any context, you’d assume he’s kind and gentle soul. Which is kind of true (depends on who he’s interacting with) but we know Albedo to be analytical and sort of brisk and cold. Not cruel by any means, but he’s not very nice and gentle either. 

Overall very nice, I like it a lot, I really wanna have a coat like that, 7/10 solid design. 

Diluc

It’s... it’s kinda meh. Is he hot? Absolutely he’s smoldering, but I just... I don’t know. You can tell that he’s rich and all of that since he’s sort of wearing a suit, but that’s it. I also really hate that they didn’t give him coattails, I think coattails would have carried this rich untouchable vibe better. The weird fur is just kind of tacky. 

I feel like giving his outfit more red would help him immensely, I’m not digging the white, it’s just there. For no reason. I guess it helps to break up all the black, but giving him a red vest would have easily done the same thing while staying true to him. He has red on his gloves, why not put a bit more on his body?

I guess my point is more red accents would do him good. Diluc is recognizable, but it’s mostly thanks to his hair. If I gave him a different outfit with the same colours it wouldn’t really change much. He lacks things like like Kaeya’s details or Albedo’s coat that make him really memorable. You could have a character who looks different, but I think to be truly memorable it’s gotta sell the character and suit them. 

Overall, his design is sort of overrated in my opinion.

Ningguang 

Ok ok queen alert I love her so much. Ningguang doesn’t just look hot her design sells her so well I love her. 

You can tell that she’s ruch, elegant, and powerful. The white, gold and black just go so well together and the way it’s placed is just aaaaahhhhh she’s so pretty what the hell. I strive to make a character that looks this good. 

I just have no idea what’s going on with her shorts. That’s like my only complaint. Just give her regular booty shorts? Like Beidou’s? You don’t need the diamonds, if you wanted them you could make it like a pattern. 

But other than that she really looks like she rules a country. She’s just so pretty omg. 

Design aside, Ningguang deserved to be a five star, she’s so strong like there’s a guy who’s Ningguang can so 29k per crystal with her ult. Ningguang has such a strong presence within the game compared to Kequing and Ganyu who are just sort of there. Ningguang is one of the few characters who get a 10/10 in performance, design, and character wise. I love her. 

Beidou

Another queen. I am so whipped for Beidou and Ningguang guys it’s not even funny-

Anyways I love Beidou so much, I love her dress her colour scheme, she’s just so cool. The black and red is consistent and well placed unlike SOME OTHER CHARACTER. 

You can tell that she’s a pirate, that she’s a strong warrior and idk why but she just screams laid back lesbian aunt. Those are the vibes I get from her. I love her. You can’t tell in this image, but she has anchors on the back of her gloves and it’s a really nice touch that adds to her as a pirate. 

The hairstyle, her outfit, the eye patch, Beidou is just iconic and so easy to recognize. I remember not knowing anything about Genshin impact but I saw some advertisements for it and Beidou’s design really stuck with me because I recognized her when I got her. 

Another one of the few who get a 10/10 in all aspects. Love her, and I can’t wait to set sail for Inazuma with her.

[oh-boy-me]

Casual Outfits Discussed

@themarchinghare Ok >:3c

These hot takes analyses and opinions are based entirely on the concept art of the demon brothers’ casual outfits.  So any in-game features not present in the concept art aren’t discussed.  We’re looking at the outfit as a whole, but occasionally we do talk about individual features.

Also please don’t take this seriously, we just had a lot of fun shitting on the Seven Power Avatars of Sin, Rulers of Hell Itself™’s questionable fashion sense.  I would still die for these boys, terrible taste in shoes or not.

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), my roommate and an art major with storyboarding and character design experience

Justin ( @justinlester0629​ ), my go-to fashion expert for at least a decade and very possibly a future male model

Noodle (Me), untrained eye and resident fashion decade disregarder

With the exception of a few choice quotes, our thoughts and conclusions are all mixed in with each other.  Quotes are mildly paraphrased.

Lucifer:

The colors are good; the blacks and grays are all in the blue-gray family, and there’s a pop of color with the gold belt and red vest.

But he paired a black suit with brown shoes????  SIN

“You should always match your belt with your shoes and those shoes are not gold.” —Justin

Justin on the coat: “I love it, the pattern of the inner lining is throwing me off but it’s not bad, and the fur is perfect because it’s associated with power.”

Me on the coat: “I don’t know about you but I bet that coat looks dumb as shit if you put your sleeves through it.”

WITHOUT the coat though his cuffs scream “I am dealing for blackjack and rolling craps.”  Lucifer looks like he could walk into and out of a casino whenever he pleases and everyone would assume he works there.

“Dress shirts don’t work like that.  He got a size too big.” —Jo

The belt isn’t doing anything functionally, but it’s very important because it balances things out from being too top-heavy.

Out of the belt, shirt cuffs, and coat cuffs, two of them should have matched.

We’re nitpicking because in general it’s a good design.  Lucifer has no taste in shoes but that aside is capable of dressing himself.

Mammon:

“That’s western Danny Phantom if I’ve ever seen it.” —Justin

Very nice coat 10/10 would wear.

The colors are odd, he mixes black and brown too, but the other colors mixed in makes it work in a cute way.

“The only things that clash are the shirt and jeans, he could replace the gray shirt with either a black one or a lighter one to match the boots.” —Justin

He’s got a cat toy on his belt.  I admire his preparedness for feline encounters.

The cat toy also balances out his rings nicely, since the toy is on his left hip and the rings are on his right hand.

The yellows in the shades, belt, and cat toy are placed very nicely and are the best part of the outfit.

Honestly except for the shirt color and the fact that fur-lined boots are out of style we don’t have much bad to say about his design.  Mammon’s casual outfit lives up to his model career.

Leviathan:

“Ugh, god.” —Justin

The headphones don’t match with anything, and ever color he’s wearing is so bright they REALLY don’t match.

Headphones aside he chose ok colors to supersaturate, but also like, supersaturation is very very loud.

It kind of looks like he bought two different tracksuits and forgot they were two different outfits.

The pants don’t match themselves.

“He color coordinated his pant cuffs and his shirt and thinks it makes it ok.” —Jo

The jacket itself is nice, the pins are really good and I appreciate that they’re opposite the stripes in his shirt.

Justin hates the gray stripe though because it looks like either part of the jacket or a girl scout sash.

“That shirt should not be collared.” —Jo

“The shoes look like what Kanye West would design but if they were sold on Wish.” —Justin

It’s kind of just… he took the RGB color wheel and went with it.  It’s just loud.  If he just changed some colors he’d be fine.  Leviathan please I have hope for you.

Satan:

“He looks like a gay prep school person.” —Justin

Satan wore 100 shades of green and said “yes this is peak fashion.”  And you know what, it objectively sucks but I’m kind of living for it?

Rip off jeans that can’t actually be ripped off because of the VERY stylish belt?  Iconic.

Green deep v-neck sweater over a gradient t-shirt and a jacket with the sleeves too short, this man only shops at Goodwill.

The one-shoulder jacket look gives the outfit some personality and I’m really glad he isn’t wearing it properly because looking at it alone I wouldn’t be caught dead in that jacket.

“While good for the design, it’s a mix between business and athletic and I’m not sure how I feel about that.” —Jo

(Jo also said some jackets are designed with sleeves like that but with the color choices it’s just… not good.  Justin pointed out that the sweater and jacket do match though.)

The chocolate loafer-style shoes take away from the rest of the outfit.

“Any other shade of green besides Crayola green would have been better for his nails.” —Justin

Listen it’s so bad it’s good, Satan’s fashion sense is “blue-green.”  We basically ripped into it the whole time but I’m pretty sure it was the universal favorite.

Asmodeus:

“Just from the back he looks like a cool dude and then the front of him screams douche.” —Jo

Asmo’s outfit is actually ok, but he has one fatal flaw: If he takes off his jacket it’s way too plain, but with the jacket it’s kind of too much.

It’s also kind of confusing, because it looks both casual and formal from different angles.  “I’m not sure I like the cut in the front with the t-shirt showing underneath.” —Justin

The shirt is nice but a color that contrasted his skin more would have been nice.

The pants are killer, and the white stitching matches the jacket really well.

The gold accents on the jacket are also good and would match the belt really nicely if the belt wasn’t some ugly mustard color.

This boy is wearing mustard belt and ketchup pants.

Inoffensive shoes which is really the best I can ask for with these boys.

“The scarf.  I like it, but I’m not sure how I feel about it because there’s just so much going on with both it and the jacket.” —Justin

“That’s not a scarf, it’s too long.  It’s like.  A really long strip of cloth.” —Jo

Anyway all in all there’s a little much going on in the front but it’s one of the better looks, good job Asmo.

Beelzebub:

Justin looked at the picture and immediately put his phone down.

“First impression is he looks like Naruto if he got his head lodged in Doritos.” —Justin

“He looks like he’s the carpet of the arcade portion of a skating rink.” —Jo

“He shouldn’t be wearing orange tones.” —Justin

Legitimately we were at a loss for words for a considerable time.  We just kept staring at it.

To start he’s got a lot going on but it feels like he looked in the mirror before leaving his room.  Not saying he did the best job but at least he looked at himself.

The jacket alone is great, but why is it fur-lined?  It throws off the urban design.

But finally some good fucking shirt.  We have mixed opinions on the triangles (I like them, Justin doesn’t but appreciates that the pattern continues on the back) but all like the cut.

Living for the necklace-bracelet combo.

Jo says the biggest problem is that there’s color-matching but in weird places and not enough of it.

Jo hates the pink belt and Justin hates the green suspenders; we concluded that one of them should have been excluded.

His choice in sneakers is not as bad as Levi’s but still not very good.  The laces shouldn’t be green.

This sounds like a lot of complaining but if he cleaned up the belts and ditched the fur it’d be a fine look.

Belphegor:

“Oh shit oh god.” —Justin

“The top half is for sleeping and the bottom half is for riding.” —Jo

Absolutely disgusting, mustard yellow pants tucked into brown lace-up combat boots?  Disgusting.

The shoes alone are nice but the mustard pants don’t work at all.  There’s no cutoff between blue and mustard.

Also he has really broad shoulders, just noticed that looking at this.  That has nothing to do with this but it does affect how his cardigan sits on him.

I personally would wear that cardigan, a hooded cardigan?  Everything I’ve ever wanted.

Justin pointed out that the button lining is weird, and the inside is a weird contrast with the pocket.  He’s right, but I think it’s an endearing mess.

Why do I look at him and feel like he needs to do laundry?  I think it’s the t-shirt.  It would have been better as a collared shirt, taking the hood off the cardigan in return.

You can’t convince me the avatar of sloth laces those boots every day, he sleeps with his shoes on and that’s a worse sin than sloth.

“The pillow’s not part of the outfit?  Oh thank god.” —Justin

Jo said we were being too mean and that it’s not the worst outfit out there, and from the waist up they’re right.

But damn Belphegor the condiment war called and they want the bottom half of their uniform back.

[vventure]

Seriously?

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x fem!reader

Genre: Smut 

Characters are 20+

Plot: Porn with plot; it’s hard to explain, but Ushiwaka gets kind of kinky at the end

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, creampie, toy use, a single alcoholic drink, bathroom sex

A/N: Ok this became a whole heck of a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m gonna pop a tag for @mysticrainpain​ because I know they like the big bois :) hope that’s ok, I can remove if you want me to

Wakatoshi was currently watching the cat you’d adopted a few months ago run figure eights around his legs as he sat on the couch, becoming impatient while waiting for you to be ready.

Ok, he was impatient and irritated. As much as he adored his and your fur child, she had long white fur and he’d already lint-rolled his black suit three times while waiting for you.

Long sparkling earrings dangled from your hands as you exited the bedroom, approaching him in the black dress with white accents you’d decided on.

“Which pair do you prefer?” You said, holding up a different earring in each hand. He’d gifted both sets to you, and was now regretting that decision as you continued to delay your departure by forcing him to select either or.

“The red ones.”

“Thanks, honey. I’m almost done,” you replied, retreating yet again into the bedroom.

This was a common occurrence and he should have known to get you going much earlier. You weren’t high maintenance in the slightest, but his fame in the volleyball world had brought along some insecurities for you. If he was taking you somewhere to represent the team, or even to a public area that he knew may attract fans, you would spend as much time as was necessary to make yourself presentable in order to bolster his public image. 

He knew that you’d prefer to just slip on some leggings or sweatpants and head out the door, and he’d tried time and again to convince you that it was perfectly okay if you did, but he had to admit that your investment in the public image portion of his career was endearing. It was just one of the many things he loved about you.

A few minutes passed before you emerged and stood in front of him. Wakatoshi took his time while looking you over. No matter what you wore, you looked amazing, and tonight was no exception. The dress hugged all his favorite parts of your body perfectly. Your hair was styled in a way he’d never seen before, and it really showed off your earrings— a different pair than what he’d chosen, he realized with a grunt.

“You look beautiful,” he said, standing. “Let me get the cat hair off of you.”

“Ah, yeah. Not my preferred accessory.”

Taking your hand, he led you into the entryway and moved to close the door behind you to quarantine the shedding monster in the main part of your home. 

“Bye, Sugar,” you cooed to the cat as the door rapidly swung shut. “We’ll be home soon!”

Wakatoshi started meticulously rolling your dress, making sure all of the cat hair was captured. 

The lint-roller glided smoothly over your body, and all that was left was your butt for him to roll. It really didn’t need that much cleaning as you hadn’t been sitting, but there was no way he was going to pass up a chance to touch your ass when it looked that damn good. You needed more dresses like this, he decided. 

Slowly, he rolled the device over the mounds of your backside, watching the plump flesh divet under his ministrations. God he could look at it all day. 

Before he could stop himself, he gave you a soft pinch and watched your ass bounce back quickly as you gave a soft gasp. 

“Ouch, what the heck, ‘Toshi?”

“There was a hair I couldn’t get off with the roller,” he lied, the tips of his ears heating up. “But you’re all good now, let’s get going.”

There was no way that he was going to get through the charity event his professional volleyball team put on with you looking like that. It was almost like you were trying to tease him, but you wouldn’t do that, right? 

For all the times he’d been oblivious to your obvious advances, he wasn’t sure if this was one of them or not.

But, when you slipped on the stilettos that he always thought you’d break your ankle in, his mind blanked and his body was set aflame. You’d made the impossible possible; your ass looked even better with heels on.

Blood was rapidly rushing to his crotch, so he looked away and clamped his eyes shut to try to clear his mind. No such luck. Your image was imprinted into his eyes.

Adjusting himself discreetly, he held his hand out to you and led you to the car; it was going to be a long night.

--

Wakatoshi tried his hardest to pay attention to what the people he was talking to were saying, but he had a very inconvenient view of your backside from where he stood.

At the bar, you were leaning over a row of stools to order drinks for yourself and him. Your calf muscles stood out sharply in this position, and your ass was defined deliciously in your dress.

If he could smack himself without looking like a lunatic, he would. What was wrong with him tonight? Of course he was attracted to you, he’d been the one to put those rings on your finger, but what was it about tonight that was making him feel this strongly about your backside?

He hadn’t realized he was staring until you waved a drink in front of his face. Shaking his head, he gave you a small smile and accepted it, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, something that was typically off the table.

That was a grave mistake; as your heat poured into him he could feel his cock give a warning twitch in his pants. He had no idea how much longer he would be able to conceal his arousal.

Bowing an apology, Wakatoshi excused you both from the current conversation and led you to a quiet place where he could lean down and whisper to you.

“Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” he said before turning on his heel and exiting the event.

There was still a bit of time before he had to be back for a drawn-out awards ceremony honoring filthy rich men, and he was going to take advantage of that.

The second you walked into the bathroom, he slammed the door behind you and lifted you to sit on the sink. His lips crashed to yours with a bruising force, his teeth nipping at your lower lip for entrance.

“I need you right now. Can I?” he asked before going back to deepen your kiss once more.

“Yes,” you managed to pant out through kisses.

Running his hands down your body, he rested one on your behind and used the leverage he had to lift up your cheek and slid your dress up to expose your lace-clad crotch. He continued his feverish kissing, running his mouth inside your mouth as he tried to reach every corner of it, while he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down so they rested against the floor of the bathroom. His cock sprung free easily; the tip was cherry red and leaking pre-cum like a sieve and it throbbed in his palm. 

Intending to push your panties aside and plunge into your warm folds as quickly as possible, he leaned forward only for his hips to be stopped with the toe of your heel and for the stiletto to dig into the side of his groin painfully. A hiss left his mouth as he made confused eye contact with you.

“I’m not prepped at all, baby,” you said, gesturing to your clothed pussy.

“We don’t have time for that,” he replied. And with that, he pushed your leg away from his body, pressed aside your panties, and buried himself to the hilt inside your warm cunt.

Your walls were still making his cock wet and he was able to pump in and out of you slowly, but he could tell that you were feeling uncomfortable as you bit into his shoulder harshly. In response, he placed his huge thumb right against your clit, rubbing rough circles into it that caused you to throw your head back in a moan. His other hand was cupping your ass so he could move your hips in time with his.

He’d been waiting to do this for hours, and your swollen walls fluttering around his cock pushing him close to the edge. Grunts from the both of you echoed through the small bathroom, reverberating off the tiles and magnifying their volume. 

Rubbing against your clit was helping; your heat was much slicker as he started a brutal pace inside you, and you were letting out moans that he knew from copious experience meant you were feeling good. Every time he sheathed himself fully, your walls tightened around him, rubbing the thick vein along the bottom of his dick.

He was practically panting into your mouth instead of kissing, and he let out a groan as you sucked his lower lip between your own and nibbled on it as he continued to rut into you.

Pressure was beginning to build and his body was starting to tingle, warning him of an impending orgasm. He needed it, and he needed it badly. His strokes were becoming shorter and faster, your body moving along the counter as he pumped quickly and sloppily.

“God, you feel so good. I-I’ve been waiting for so long to do this, baby,” he growled into your ear, causing you to squeeze around his cock, sending him into oblivion. Usually he would last longer, so his cheeks and ears heated up in embarrassment as he felt his cock twitching inside you, the pressure to cum releasing. Flinging his head back he pumped through his orgasm, releasing a choked groan when you bit down on his prominent adam's apple.

When the last thick rope shot into your cunt, he pulled his soft cock from your warm walls, wiped it down quickly with a tissue, and re-did his pants. His mind finally felt clear for the first time all night, and his body was able to relax.

He was so occupied with his own orgasm and clean up that the only thing that reminded him that his loving wife was there was an indignant grunt.

“Seriously?” You asked. Suddenly, he was enraptured watching his cum start to seep out of you onto the counter. You looked hot as hell, but he didn’t have time to ogle you. The announcements were starting and he couldn’t miss them. 

“I needed to have sex with you before the awards ceremony. I’ll make it up to you later,” he said simply. He was back to his normal self now that he’d found release for his fixation on your ass.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your swollen lips, he slipped from the bathroom. The door closed quietly behind him and he made his way back to the banquet hall, his hands fidgeting restlessly with his golden wedding band all the while.

--

What the fuck just happened?

That was the only thought running through your mind as your clit throbbed from under stimulation warm liquid seeped from your abused hole. Your carefully done hair was now sweaty and sticking in all the wrong places, and you were sure your matte nude lipstick was all but dissolved.

Did that ass just use you like a sex doll and bounce?

You’d been skating the line between not enough stimulation and feeling good enough to orgasm when he just went without you and then didn’t finish satisfying you.

He was never going to hear the end of this little stunt.

--

You’d cleaned up as best you could. It was a miracle that you had forgot to remove your menstrual cup from this bag, so you were able to prevent the massive amount of cum in you from leaking down your thigh.

Wakatoshi was easy to spot once you were inside the banquet hall. The man was a behemoth. As you made your way over, you could feel the cup shift slightly inside you, letting a little liquid leak out before it re-adjusted properly. 

Fuck, there was way too much left of this event.

Once you were beside your husband, you allowed your fingers to intertwine with his before using your other hand to tug on his sleeve for his attention.

“You’re in for it when we get home,” you cooed into his ear, nipping the lobe before focusing on the awards ceremony occurring. Wakatoshi grunted in response and squeezed your hand reassuringly, but you could feel his palm start to clam up.

Good, you had him right where you wanted him. 

--

The event was officially over and the ride back home was silent. Wakatoshi was always fairly quiet, but usually you filled the silence for the both of you.

This time, you were fuming while forming a plan in your head to exact a little revenge on your handsome husband. He rested his hand on your thigh while driving, which you chose to ignore, hoping that by not taking it in your own hands he would have some warning of what was to come.

As you slipped off your heels, you could feel the heat of your husband approach before he wrapped his large hands around your waist and stroked over the front of your crotch.

“Go sit in the chair in our bedroom,” you commanded while flicking away his arms. 

Typically when you had sex neither of you acted as a dom, even if both of you could be considered one. You’d tried it when you first started dating in your third year of highschool. It has been a battle the whole time and only ended when you kicked ‘Toshi in the shin while wrestling for dominance. It had been hard enough to break the skin, and he had the horrific displeasure of trying to explain the injury to his friend Tendou.

Wakatoshi grunted in response to your words, loosening his tie and retreating to the master bedroom. You were quick on his heels, closing the door behind you to keep Sugar out.

Taking his loosened tie, you unwound it from his neck then grabbed a second tie from his drawer. Before he could protest, you were tightly binding his wrists to the chair he was sitting upon. The knot would be easy enough for him to loosen when he eventually lost control.

“What’s this?” He asked, his olive eyes boring into your [e/c] ones.

“Well,” you started, slowly taking your earrings out and putting them away. You weren’t looking at him but could feel his heated gaze on you as you undressed. “I’m just reminding you that I’m not a cum dump, sweetheart.”

Glancing at him, you could see him swallow thickly and you hoped he couldn’t tell your heart was hammering in your chest. Those were bold words you’d never said in the bedroom before and you had no idea how he would take them.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said, causing you to walk over and stand before him as you let your dress pool at your ankles. All you had on now was your black lingerie set.

“But you still did it, and now you’re going to learn a lesson.” With that you pressed a searing kiss right to the corner of his mouth and grabbed your long-abandoned finger vibrator and glass dildo from your nightstand. “Now you get to watch me get myself off, baby.”

‘Toshi let out a pained grunt as you stepped out of your panties and situated yourself spread-eagle on the bed, your pussy facing him. Staring him down, you watched his eyes widen as you fished the pink cup from your vagina, letting his release slip from inside you.

The amount that was still in you after at least an hour made your clit throb.

With the flick of a switch, your finger vibe was on and you were running it in circles around your puffy clit, using ‘Toshi’s cum as lube to make it even more pleasurable for you.

The vibrations from the small device rippled through your body, spreading heat along your stomach. Moaning, you looked at your husband but his eyes were locked onto your core. Even with your thoughts clouded by pleasure you could see the crotch of his slacks straining.

“Do you like what you see, honey?” You cooed, gripping the glass dildo in your free hand and moving it to dip into your pussy. It came back out with a wet pop and you brought to your mouth, lapping and sucking at the cold toy to get every drop of his seed on it.

“Yes,” he groaned, his arms straining against his restraints as he watched you feast on his cum.

“Do you like it when I pleasure myself, Wakatoshi?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” you hummed around the dildo as the finger vibe sat idly in your folds. You’d moved it away from your clit to tease your husband, but now you were aching.

Setting the small device as high as it would go, you pressed down hard on the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs and cried out as your back arched off the bed.

Holy shit, this thing was no joke.

You thought you’d see God any second now, as the warmth in your abdomen coiled tightly and the vibrator sent waves of pleasure all the way through your core.

Toes curling into the mattress, you were nearly at release when a strong grip pulled the vibrator away from your clit. Whining indignantly, you looked up into the rage and lust filled eyes of Wakatoshi as he breathed heavily over you.

“That thing you’re using is nothing compared to me,” he growled before flinging the still running toy across the room. He then positioned himself between your thighs.

Without breaking eye contact, he ran the flat of his tongue from your spasming hole to your clit, then held his warm muscle out for inspection.

You almost came on the spot at the lewd sight before you: Wakatoshi Ushijima’s pink tongue was coated with not only your arousal, but his own cum.

“S-Swallow it,” you squeaked, your face blazing hot. He did as told and you could feel your legs wobble as he stuck his clean tongue back out. “That is so fucking ho--AH!”

He cut you off by delving between your folds once more, using his tongue to fuck your tight hole and push his seed back inside of you. One muscular arm reached around to separate your folds and give a harsh pinch to your clit, making you yelp at the sensation.

Replacing his tongue with a single curling finger inside you, he used the tip of his wet muscle to run up your heat and dance circles around your sensitive button. The vibrator was good, but your husband was better.

He changed tack quickly and began flicking the bundle of nerves up and down, a wanton mewl leaving your lips with each movement.

He’d delayed your orgasm and now it was barrelling down on you at full force as he began to pump three fingers in and out of your hot entrance and his teeth bit down softly on your clit.

With a deafening scream, your puffy walls clamped down on his fingers and your long-awaited release shot into ‘Toshi’s waiting mouth. He groaned as your arousal coated his tongue.

As the pleasure radiated through your body, you couldn’t help but admire the man you loved. He knew what was coming and prepared. Who knew that your annoyance with him would make you love him more?

“How was it?” He asked, licking his lips to capture as much of your flavor as possible.

“Eh, I don’t know,” you panted out. “The vibrator was pretty--”

Your words were eaten by a warm kiss. Once you’d gotten a good taste of yourself, ‘Toshi pulled back to look at you, his normally severe eyes soft.

“You’re amazing, [y/n],” he said. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

“I forgive you, baby,” you said, running your hands over his broad shoulders. “And I’m only a little sorry for the punishment.”

“I’m not done with you yet. Maybe then you’ll be completely sorry.” His clothed bulge ground over your sensitive heat roughly.

“I guess we just have to find out.”

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Aye you sick of me yet? Lol. How about the boys going to the boardwalk one night to find a traveling circus/freak show is in town. I’m talkin sword swallowing and fire breathing type ish. Our lovely lady s/o is an acrobat who performs with an aerial hoop (if you need reference, my personal fav performance is Chloe Gardiol doing cry me a river). And is she actually human? Who knows? Is she alluring as bait? Maybe.

Not at all!! Sorry it took so long to get to this!! I totally love this ask, and I’m definitely turning this into a fic!! I’m also thinking Poly!Lost Boys for this one!! I hope you enjoy!!

Talk About Freak Show (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1865

The boys probably should’ve known a circus was coming into town, but it caught the four of them by surprise. They’d been to their fair share over the years, but it was still a pleasant sight. It was something different. Something to keep them entertained besides the normal crowds that walked up and down the boardwalks. There were clowns, jugglers, and even fire breathers littering the boardwalk and impressing the locals. 

“Gnarly!” Paul shouted as he watched someone swallow a sword. Marko and Paul were pushing eachother, and Dwayne had to grab both of them by the back of their coats before one of them decided to give it a try. David rolled his eyes and threatened,

“If the two of you don’t shut up, I’ll shove a sword somewhere else.” He said, and Paul wiggled his fingers at him and said,

“Ooh.” In a mocking tone, while Marko laughed and encouraged him to lighten up. It was a circus! They were supposed to be having a good time! And they were. David just didn’t like how many of the carnies kept coming up to them. Especially when a mime decided to make fun of David for wearing a “long face”. Marko and Paul had nearly lost their minds laughing when the mime copied David, and David had considered strangling the poor guy right then and there. He mimicked him smoking a cigarette, and, after only being around him for a minute, he was actually doing a pretty good impression. This only made him more angry. Luckily, something else had caught their attention.

There was a big top set up in the sand, and the four of them left their bikes near the back to check it out. A performance was just about to start, and they weren’t strangers to sneaking into places like this. They took some empty seats, and ducked in the crowd so no one would see them. Dwayne had to tell Paul to shut up, as he was sure the blondes giggling would give it away that they weren’t supposed to be there. 

They watched a ring leader announce the name of the next performer, and the boys watched in wonder as you stepped out and a hoop was slowly dropped down from above. You wore a red and white shimmery leotard, one that exposed your legs, arms, and clung to your body. You had a rose in her hair, and they couldn’t tell how long it was by how it was tied back. Still, you were beautiful. Paul let out a wolf whistle, and Marko laughed and punched him in the shoulder.

They stayed for your entire performance, even though they’d only meant to stay for a few minutes. You were entrancing. They’d seen others perform aerial arts before, but there was just something about you that they couldn’t deny was different. The way that you hung in the air, moved your body, and seemed to have complete control over the audience, even them, was unmistakably mesmerizing. Marko even leaned over to whisper to David, asking if he thought that you were human. David didn’t say a word for a moment. His eyes watched you, and he whispered,

“I’m not sure.” It was a weird thing to admit, but it was the truth. There were too many heartbeats, too many scents. He couldn’t place which one was yours. Their voices were barely a whisper, and he was sure no one would’ve been able to hear him over the music. Marko then added,

“She’d make good bait.” And David turned to look at his angel faced brother. Marko was grinning, a grin that David had become far too familiar with over the years. It was like he had read his mind. He gave him a small smirk, and a silent nod. That you would.

When you finished your performance, Paul stood up to give you a standing ovation. He was quickly yanked down by the brunette, but he still hooted and hollered for you. They caught your laugh, but you were quickly bowing and retreating back behind the curtain. Marko whispered the beginning of their plan to the other two, and Paul was practically bouncing with excitement. They left the big top, sneaking out where they came, and going to grab their bikes. They were going to find you, get you away from the crowds, maybe have some fun and-

They paused when they saw a small crowd near their bikes. Apparently, they’d parked them right where the carnies took their breaks. The mime from before was smoking a cigarette, and they could hear what he was saying over the dull roar of the crowd.

“-Totally hot, but the one with the mullet was kind of a dick. I hate stopping in these shitty towns. God, why couldn’t- Shit! That’s them.” He noticed them just when they were only a few feet away. He was talking to you, exactly who’d they’d been looking for, and you turned to follow his eyes. You were wearing a light brown fur overcoat, one that went down to your mid-thigh, and it was obviously to keep the nights chill off of your shoulders. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, and it wasn’t until you turned that they realized it was you, the acrobat, from before. They could see the sparkly red and white leotard under your coat, and now they knew why you were wearing something so heavy. You furrowed your brows when they continued to walk closer.

“Can I help you boys?” You asked. This was circus territory. Hot or not, tourists and locals weren’t allowed to be back here. The platinum blonde, the one your friend had called a dick, smiled at you. He had ocean blue eyes, one’s sharp enough to pierce. He was dressed in all black, with an overcoat and gloves. You stared right back, and a shiver threatened to go down your spine. He was attractive, but your survival instinct from being on the road for so long practically screamed that he was dangerous. He gave you the creeps. He motioned to the bikes right besides you and your friends.

“We were just about to ask you the same thing.” He said. His voice was smooth like velvet, and you almost felt a wave of something. You couldn’t describe it except for suggestion, maybe? It washed over you like a wave, and it took all of your hesitance with it. “I’m David.” He said as he plucked a cigarette from behind his ear, and you found yourself giving up your name without thinking about it. Not your stage name. Your real one. Your friend, the mime, gave you a startled look. It was an unspoken rule not to share your real name. It broke the illusion. The barrier between actor and audience.

You’d been standing right in front of one of the middle bikes, a bike with a yellow back wheel and a raccoons tail hanging from one of the handles. The presumed owner, a curly-haired blonde with big, doe brown eyes slid by you into the space between the bike right next to his. He made sure to brush by you as you past, holding you steady so he didn’t knock you over. He didn’t excuse himself, and he grinned when you had to grip onto his jacket. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m Marko.” With a wide grin on his face. He climbed onto the bike, and revved the engine to life. 

Then, the tallest of the blondes, swaggered his way over to you. He was at the end of the line and he didn’t have to walk nearly as close, but he did anyways. He brushed a hand over the fur of your coat, lifting his brows as he said, “Nice coat. I’m Paul.” With a slight californian accent. He looked more like a glam-rocker than a surfer, but you could smell the weed on him as he walked backwards for a few steps. He had a row of almost too perfect teeth, and a smile that was charming and lazy. And then he was taking a seat on a bike with a red back wheel.

The brunette didn’t try to come close. His bike was the other middle one, the one to your left, but he commanded your attention anyways. His eyes were dark and his skin was tanned. You didn’t let yourself embarrass yourself by looking down at his chest, and he gave you the smallest of smirks. He nodded his head at you and said, “Dwayne.” As he went to his bike. Your friend had been talking about him, and while you admitted that he was definitely hot, you wished he’d warned you that they all were. Though, you felt hairs stand on the back of your neck. Three of them were behind you, and, for some reason, you didn’t like that. But turning your back to David seemed far worse. David hadn’t made his way to his bike in the seconds that had just past, and instead asked,

“You got a light?” And you were snapped back to reality. You reached inside your coat, producing a lighter. David leaned down, the cigarette already between his teeth, and cupped your hand as you helped him light his cigarette. The leather was smooth against your skin, and you tried to pretend that your hand wasn’t shaking. He looked at you as he did, his eyes staring into yours. It made you gulp, and he smirked. He pulled back, took a drag, and blew the smoke away from you. He glanced at your friend, before he walked to his bike. It was the first one in line, and you turned to follow him with your eyes. You faced them, and David said, “Was that your last performance of the night?” 

It barely registered as a question, but you shook your head. Not as an answer, but more so to clear it. The boys snickered, and Paul and Marko smiled at eachother. As if they knew something you didn’t. You were quick to say,

“No, no. That, um- I have another one later tonight.” You’d never been nervous around people before. But these boys? They made you feel like they were about to eat you alive. David took another drag, and he almost looked a little disappointed. It had to be your imagination though. Your friend tugged you to the side, out from in front of their bikes, and you let him. David watched, and he narrowed his eyes at the mime. He took another drag.

“You should find us later tonight.” David said, and the same feeling washed over you. The push. The suggestion. Before you could answer, he was flicking his unfinished cigarette to the side, and Paul was tearing through the sand. They followed one by one, but David was quick to take the lead. With them gone, it felt like a cloud had been lifted from your head. But there was one thing that remained. You would find them later that night. Somehow.

Your friend scoffed and shook his head. He had already lit another cigarette and said,

“Talk about freak show.”

[nonbinary-renfri]

inspired by this post by @elliestormfound

It’s Lambert’s turn to cook dinner tonight for the witchers wintering in the keep and he’s feeling rather inspired, after Geralt and Eskel went ice fishing and came back with four lovely large trout. Going down to the root cellar while the other two witchers were taking care of the gutting and cleaning and de-scaling of the fish out in the yard, Lambert picked out some onions and some potatoes and some garlic. He also took a container of the goat milk butter they’d started making after Eskel had insisted on getting the keep its own mini goat herd. The animals themselves were stinky, ungrateful bastards, but even Lambert would admit having the fresh milk was nice. Once they finally figured out this goat cheese thing, it’d be even nicer.

But for now Lambert’s heading back upstairs with a basket full of potatoes and onions and garlic and is greeted by some absolutely beautiful fish fillets laid out on the kitchen counter. A lesser man- such as many high-class chefs with their fancy restaurants in the cities- might shed a tear at the sight of such divine knife work. Lambert is so glad Eskel let Geralt do the filleting this time.

He dices onions and garlic and preps the potatoes, washing them and piercing them in several places with a knife. The wood-stove is already lit, doing its best to spread fingers of warmth through Kaer Morhen’s cold stones. Opening up two of the burners, Lambert plunks down a pair of heavy iron saucepans onto the stove. He makes two batches of an onion-butter sauce, one with garlic and one without. While that’s simmering, he seasons the fish with rock salt that he’s fairly certain Vesemir collects and grinds himself, and then divides the fillets out evenly between two baking pans. Lambert pours the sauce over the fish before sliding them, along with the potatoes, into the large oven to slow cook.

With some time to kill, he washes the dishes he’s created so far and then starts poking around in the kitchen cabinets. He finds things he knew were there, like shelves filled with jars of different spices and a section dedicated to baking supplies, and things he didn’t, like glass bottles of apple cider in a bottom cupboard. Lambert uncorks one and sniffs it, and, yep, that is apple cider and it’s still fairly fresh too, probably squeezed and bottled by Vesemir this past autumn. He doesn’t think the old man will mind awfully if Lambert commandeers some of it; it’s for a good cause, and it’s not like Vesemir won’t also get a share of it.

Putting a larger pot on the stove top, Lambert mixes up a hot drink made with apple cider, a splash of squeezed fruit juice, and spices. Sticks of cinnamon and dried orange and lemon slices float in bubbling amber liquid as it simmers on the burner. Dinner will be done before the wassail is, but that’s alright; they can have it as a nice follow-up afterwards.

Lambert glances up from stirring the drink as Vesemir enters the kitchen. The old witcher is carrying a basket with fresh broccoli from the winter garden, tiny bits of ice glimmering on green buds from being washed outdoors in the cold. Taking a deep breath in, he smiles appreciatively. “It smells delicious.” Yellow irises find the bottles of apple cider out on the countertop. “Ah. I see you got into my juice stores.”

“For a good cause, old man.”

Vesemir’s nostrils flare as he leans towards the pot. “Yes, indeed. An after-dinner treat?”

How does he always know these things. “Yeah,” Lambert admits.

“Would you be willing to trust me to watch over your handiwork for a bit? I thought I would add broccoli to the menu tonight, but the table in the hall could really use a wipe down before we sit down to eat.”

“Sure, I can go do that. Stir the pot on the stove occasionally and don’t fucking burn my food, okay?”

Vesemir acquiesces with a nod and waves the younger witcher out the door.

The table is rather dusty and bread crumb-covered from a multitude of meals, so Lambert wipes it down with a dry cloth and then a wet one. He also takes the opportunity to set the table, putting out plates and silverware for all the witchers, though not in the pompous, shitty way a noble household would. Just a fork and a knife, thank you very much. The butter dish and the ceramic howling wolf salt and pepper shakers Eskel had brought back one winter go on the table too. Vesemir keeps his eyes on the broccoli he has searing on the stove as Lambert comes in and out of the kitchen, pretending not to notice as the younger snags napkins for the table that he knows will be neatly folded beside their plates. And he thinks they don’t know that he cares.

Eventually all the food is done cooking and the old witcher lets Lambert take care of the plating of things, helping him carry the platters of roast potatoes and fish and broccoli into the hall. The smells must reach the other witchers in the keep as Geralt and Eskel quickly appear at the door, dressed in clean clothes with cheeks pink-flushed and the slightly spicy-sweet scent from the witch hazel soap they keep in the hot springs wafting off of them.

“Wow, that smells good,” Eskel comments. Geralt’s nostrils flare in agreement and the two are quick to take their usual seats at the table, eagerly eyeing the spread in front of them.

As soon as Vesemir fills his plate, the rest of them are free to dig in as well. Scenting the air, mouth partway open, Geralt gravitates towards the fish without garlic and scoops a good chunk onto his plate. Eskel takes a smaller piece from the same pan and a similar one from the other as well. Like Vesemir, Lambert takes a big serving of the fish with garlic. They all take potatoes and cut them open, steam wafting into the air from the well-cooked soft white insides. Goat butter melts quickly from the heat and they sprinkle rock salt on top of potatoes now drenched in gold. Broccoli joins the rest of the food on their plates and they eat in silence for a while, too hungry from the day’s work and grateful for a good meal to have the wherewithal to interrupt it with conversation.

Eventually though, as Vesemir and Geralt go back for second servings of their preferred fish and Eskel takes more broccoli, they find themselves able to take their concentration enough off the food to talk.

“Thank you for making dinner, Lambert,” Geralt says, because sometimes he can be a polite bastard. Lambert suspects it has something to do with all that time the white-haired man spends around a certain uppity sorceress.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eskel parrots, talking through a mouthful of potato because he doesn’t have a questionable influence in his life to teach him courtly manners. “’S delicious.”

Vesemir nods in agreement. “Quite.”

Resisting the urge to shrug off the praise, Lambert pretends the tips of his ears aren’t turning red. “Mhmm. Yeah. Uh. You’re welcome, I guess.” He remembers the wassail he has simmering in the kitchen still, and takes the excuse to flee the room. “Hot drinks, for after dinner. Should be done, so I’ll, uh, go get them.” Getting up and walking away, he waits until he’s completely out of eyesight of the others, because Vesemir would somehow fucking know if he didn’t, before he lets the bubbling warm feeling in his chest spill onto his face. He smiles the entire walk back to the kitchen.

Returning with a big wooden pitcher full of hot wassail that drifts the sweet scents of apples, citrus, and spices into the air with curls of steam, he pours it into the mugs gathered at the far end of the table, placing one in front of each witcher.

Vesemir, the madman, doesn’t even blow on his before gulping down a large mouthful. He swallows and immediately goes back for a second, humming his approval.

Slightly more cautious, Eskel blows on the surface of his drink before trying it. His face changes to a contemplative look and then he nods, seemingly in approval.

Geralt takes a sip from his mug with an unreadable expression. Lambert watches him carefully, knowing the other witcher can’t stand to drink apple cider on its own. Taking another sip, Geralt lets out a quiet grunt.

Lambert’s voice gets ahead of his head. “So? Is it good?” Shit shit shit way too pushy, what, do you need validation or something-

Shrugging, Geralt says, like he’s simply stating a fact, “Everything you make is good.”

There is a pleased yet embarrassed heat rising in Lambert’s cheeks, because Geralt doesn't say nice things when he doesn't mean them. “Fuck you.” Dammit, why can’t he be the kind of person who just goes speechless in moments like this.

Geralt doesn’t reply, but he’s smiling in that tiny way he thinks is unnoticeable, with the very corners of his lips and the tilt of his eyebrows, or something. The white-haired witcher doesn’t go back for seconds of the hot drink like Eskel does, or fourths like Vesemir, but he finishes the mug that Lambert poured for him, which is compliment enough in the younger’s opinion.

It’s a good night, he thinks, as they finish their drinks and Geralt and Eskel take the dishes back to the kitchen to scrub them clean. Even better as they all pile into the study, with it’s warm wooden walls and bearskin rugs a ballast against the winter’s chill. They quickly have a fire burning bright in the hearth, and the room becomes cozy and comfortable. Vesemir settles into his armchair with the old bestiary he’s currently annotating and the three younger witchers tangle together in a pile on the fur splayed before the fire. They wrestle lazily for a bit before sprawling out drowsily, serene and drifting somewhere close to sleep.

In the early hours of the next morning the armchair is empty, bestiary shut neatly on the accent table beside it, and the fire has reduced itself to cold ashes. Lambert wakes up to white hair tickling his nose and his feet tangled with Eskel’s, the other man’s calves laying on top of Geralt’s knees. Soft fur brushes his chin from the bearskin that had been spread over the three of them sometime in the night, keeping them warm beneath it with their combined body heat long after the fire had died out. There’s no window in this room but Lambert has a feeling it’s still not late enough for them to need to get up, so he lies there with his eyes closed, simply enjoying the weight and warmth of his brothers beside him.

[shenlongshao]

GGStrive Redesign Analysis: Leo Whitefang

Welcome to the continuation of the redesign analysis series! The next character is another one who first debuted in XRD SIGN; Leo Whitefang! This will be another long post and also the last one until Anji Mito’s trailer in 2021. Please enjoy reading! LEO WHITEFANG ------------------------------- There’s been some mixed reactions to Leo’s reveal. Positive comments like “Leo Whitefang is back! GG Strive is saved!” “He’s a hot burly man!” “Dream Daddy!” and etc. came from fans of the character. But other comments from those not too happy with his reveal were like, “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!”  XDD   Time to examine his previous look.

Every aspect of this character boldly shows his motif is based on a lion, which I always think is awesome. Leo’s design focuses on the unique and cool factor rather than unorthodox. First is his long, blonde hair and beard that looks like a lion’s mane. Actual fur of the same color can be seen on the collar of his trench coat and at the cuffs. His trench coat bares a brownish orange hue, accented with black trim and unfasten belts that exposes his attire. On the sleeves of his coat is a black cross shaped like the Illyrian one, decorated with 6 metal buttons and a yellow one in the center. Metal Illyrian crosses is also at the corners of the coat’s collar, which they connect by twin chains. Six metal buttons is on each part of the collar, adding up to twelve that gives a hint to a rock metal look. His attire is a black, spandex-type body suit with light orange trim baring cross designs in the middle of his chest. Layered on top is a light orange shirt(or vest?) with two straps hanging on the sides. On his hands is simple, fingerless black gloves while his tight pants also has the style of crosses and detail, though slightly different shade of black. Lastly, his ankle-length boots contains tannish brown cuffs with black trim and three metal buttons on each side. The base color is also black with tannish brown trim at the bottom and dark gray plating on the frontal part. Leo’s design brings something different while still fitting in the world of GG. I love the exaggerated mixture of regal and combat style in his look. It’s one of those designs where I could tell what the character is about from just looking at him. I even like design of his weapons, which I notice their shape is like a German cross. I like how the chosen colors compliment each other, especially since it has a vibrant and warm essence to it. Since orange, black, yellow, and silver are his main colors, let’s examine how it relates to his personality. Color Personality of Orange: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-orange.html With orange as your favorite color, you are warm, optimistic, extroverted and often flamboyant. You are friendly, good-natured and a generally agreeable person. You are assertive and determined rather than aggressive - having a personality color orange means you are more light-hearted and less intense than those who love red. You thrive on human social contact and social gatherings, bringing all types together. As a personality color orange, you enjoy partying and socializing and planning all types of social events - orange people are the life of the party, the uninhibited performer! You are often the loud talker in a group. While you are charming and sociable you do tend to be a show-off. You get great satisfaction from helping others and they find you inspiring with your vitality and positive energy. You are tolerant and accepting of others just the way they are. You are full of life, always on the go, determined and competitive, always looking for new challenges - and this can lead to restlessness and impatience with others who do not have this need. Lovers of orange like to take risks in many areas of their life, particularly in the physical areas. They prefer to explore their outer world rather than their inner world. Patience is not one of your virtues and you can be quite forceful and domineering over others when under stress. You may be an unkind practical joker. When operating from a negative perspective, a personality color orange can become aloof, egotistical, and self-centered. Color Personality of Black: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-black.html Prestige and power are important to you. You are independent, strong-willed and determined and like to be in control of yourself and situations. You are methodical in your work, making sure everything is completed as required, down to the last detail. Color Personality of Yellow: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-yellow.html You have a happy disposition and are cheerful and fun to be with. With a personality color yellow, you can be very critical of yourself as well as others - you are a perfectionist. You analyze everything, all the time, and are methodical in your thinking. You are spontaneous - you are able to think quickly on your feet and make instant decisions. You have a modern outlook. New technology doesn't faze you. You communicate well on a mental level with like-minded people, but can become bitter and sharp-tongued if crossed. You are good at networking and getting information out of others. Journalists often resonate with the color yellow. With a personality color yellow, you can be stubborn but dislike pettiness and spitefulness of all kinds. You like to think you are intelligent and well educated, with knowledge about many topics. Color Personality of Silver: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-silver.html You tend to be introspective, often preoccupied with your own world. In your search for meaning and fulfilment, you sometimes isolate yourself from others as you reflect and ponder on the deeper questions of life. If you love silver, you are imaginative and creative, particularly in expressing yourself with the written word. Making speeches, writing poetry, and writing novels are three means of self-expression you may be drawn to, allowing you to satisfy your need to fantasize and reflect. With a personality color silver, you are open to trying new things and exploring any new opportunities that are presented to you. Change does not frighten you, in fact you welcome it. Resourceful and flexible, and open to new possibilities, success often comes easily to those who love the color silver. You will try almost anything once! Immediately introduced as the Second King of Illyria, Leo is heavily involved in worldwide affairs. From typical paperwork duties to investigation events surrounding Bablyon and the Japanese Colony, he takes on his responsibilities without hesitation. Throughout the story of Xrd SIGN and Revelator, he displays leadership qualities and knows it takes way more than just giving people orders. He tries to carefully analyze the situation and decide the best course of action, showing compassion and understanding for not only the troops, but others around him. This aspect is really shown when in Revelator 2, when the showdown with Ariels occurs and freeing Elphelt from Justice’s body. King Daryl shows to be technically logical with his plan to go for the attack, though detached from the internal details. However, Leo considers the entirety of the situation and wanting the safety of his allies(like Sol and Ky). There’s also the aspect of while he is very boastful and has high self-esteem, he’s definitely not a narcissist(a word often misused). He’s able to boldly admit his flaws and even having a hearty laugh about it; grading himself a C-(from Xrd SIGN). With Leo’s development as a person and what he has to deal with in the aftermath of Revelator 2, it was time for him to get a redesign!

The essence from Leo’s previous design is kept, though still quite a departure from it. The first is his hair is dramatically cut and his beard is trimmed, instantly giving him a more mature appearance. The concept of the fur trench coat is apparent, such as the Illyrian crosses on the sleeves, except their color is beige instead of black. However, it’s obviously not the same coat due to the style; it lacks the Illyrian crosses and little chains in front. And how his new coat would be fasten by the silver buttons instead of buckle straps. On the new coat, the buckle straps securely loop from under his arms and the fact the hue is a warm brown instead of orange with black trim. The clothing he wears underneath is also different, starting with a slightly opened, white collar shirt layered with a dark brown and black vest. There’s the detail of little silver buttons evenly spread out and a side zipper. Around his waist is three belts in slightly different shades of brown. On his lower body, Leo wears a fitted, beige-colored pants that slightly curtains over his mustard yellow and dark brown dress shoes. Lastly, the pants also has pockets, accented with brown strap in front. Since Leo’s new main colors includes brown and beige with a hint of white, Let’s see what the additional colors mean for him. Brown Personality: https://colorogy.com/brown-color-meaning.html Brown personality people are strong and dependable. The strength is not only strong in body, but also strong in convictions and emotional strength. If brown is your most favorite color, you have a good understanding of your own capabilities. You have the mental grit to stand up to and face the challenges life throws at you. You are a reliable partner and true to your friends. You are loyal and sincere in your relationships. For you, feeling safe, loved, and appreciated in a relationship is essential. You look after your family and gladly devote time to your home and responsibilities. Material security is paramount to you; you meticulously plan your goals and work hard to achieve them. Your career is an important aspect of your life. You have a vision for your career and you will do what it takes to get there. You do your best to succeed in whatever you set your heart on achieving. You do your best to maintain a good reputation. Being seen in a good light is vital to you. You dread the idea of being thought of as untrustworthy in any way. Beige Personality: https://colorogy.com/beige-color-meaning.html You have the ability to grasp new ideas and concepts quickly. You amass knowledge for wisdom and for knowledge's sake. You are interested in everything that goes on in the world and in your areas of interest. You are much in tune with all that occurs in your immediate environment. The efforts you put in towards achieving all that you want in life are consistent. You don't back down; come what may, when you really want something. White Personality: https://colorogy.com/white-color-meaning.html They have a compassionate outlook and are kind. Their kind words sooth, heal, and calm those they interact with. They may attract people in their lives who depend on them for emotional support, as they are good listeners and are wise beyond their years. They are grounded, balanced and practical. They have a deep understanding of the world they live in. It doesn't take alot to make someone with a white personality type happy. They find joy and contentment in small and simple things life. Watching a beautiful sunrise or sunset can make their day. They are free spirited and carefree. They enjoy their freedom and feel unrestricted by conventions. It’s interesting how brown is one the chosen colors for him. I think storywise, it could relate to Leo’s heighten resolve and determination to whatever comes next. It also hints he’s matured since the last game, though he still has his jolly pride and charm he’s known for(especially from his expressions and animations.)

I like how Leo’s design still contains his unique style, even though it’s seemingly more casual in comparison to his previous look. Due to his haircut, it’s easier to tell which is his hair and which is the fur from his coat(in the previous games, I sometimes think the fur collar was part of his hair, lol). Part of me will miss his long hair, but the new hairdo definitely looks great on him. I’m also kind of getting Attack on Titan vibes from his clothing and suddenly imagine him killing Titans with ease, XD.  This is another design done well; time to give it the GG style rating! Rating: S + + + (The Lion King!)

[thewritershelpers]

Let’s Get Dressed (FULL)

A long, long time ago (2013, to be exact), H from TheWritersHelpers and C from WriteWorld (inactive) got together for a collaboration on how to write and describe clothing. This is the fruits of their labor.**

Anonymous asked: Any tips on describing clothing?

The Writer’s Helpers and WriteWorld have teamed up to create a series on clothing and fashion. These articles were primarily written in the context of how to write about clothing. 

Clothing is a term that is used to describe items worn by humans (and recently other animals, like tiny dogs), either for practical reasons or for reasons of style. Since humans have been wearing clothing for tens of thousands of years, it’s probably best to narrow down the timeframe for the clothing you’re describing to a particular era, year, season, etc. With that in mind, let’s talk about fashion!

Fashion (n): A popular trend, esp. in styles of dress, ornament, or behavior.

We’ll be discussing the dress and ornament portion of this definition. Now, there are a few ways that fashion might affect your description of clothing: Your character might be fashionable, ahead of the times, behind the times, or apart from fashion entirely. All of this is going to make a difference not only in what the clothing actually is, but also in what there is to describe about said clothing. Let’s have a look at these different positions for your character on the fashion scale:

1. Fashionable. Fashionable characters are insiders. They are usually very in tune with what is hip with the kids. Fashionable characters (for an example, read the booksThe Devil Wears Prada,,The Princess Diaries, and Confessions of a Shopaholic) can usually have a backstory where they once were not fashionable- perhaps the unpopular nerd- and with a little help or luck, improve their fashion sense. Magazines such as Vogue, Seventeen, or GQ can act as guides for your fashionista characters in present day. For more on eras, check out the “Links to Look At” section at the end of this article. If you’re writing a fashionable character, you might use clothing labels to describe your character’s clothes as opposed to just describing the color, size, etc. You might also want to thread themes through the character’s style, such as the season or a trademark for the character (think always wears yellow or channels Audrey Hepburn on the red carpet). Materials vary often in fashion, but fashionable characters are more likely to wear expensive fabrics and jewelry. After all, they have a reputation to uphold. 

2. Ahead of the times. These are the trendsetters, the fashion pioneers, the people who pave the way for others and push the boundaries in all the right ways. Trends come and go, but the fashion forward never look back. Characters wearing forward-thinking fashion (or couture) might find themselves in fur and duct tape and think nothing of it. Descriptions of their clothing might tend toward the bizarre and using eclectic words may help drive home the eccentricities of their style.  For example: Her aluminum coat sparked like Tesla coils in the firelight. Weird descriptors aren’t a problem for fashion-forward characters. The weirder, the better.

3. Behind the times. There are those unfortunate souls who do not keep up with the fashion popular at the time your story takes place. Whether it’s the 1580’s or the 1980’s, not all fashions are universal. Styles come and go, but if your character’s whole wardrobe was procured twenty years before the story begins, they’re probably not up with the latest fashions. This might arise from monetary constraints or because of isolation, but the simple fact is: not everything is retro-chic.

Retro-Chic (adj): pertaining to the fashionableness of the nostalgic revival of a style.

Characters who are behind the times might have old clothes that aren’t in the best condition. They may not have the vocabulary to describe the clothes they wear or that others wear with any degree of accuracy. This most especially applies to clothing labels or technical terms for the design of clothes as the character is not up on the popular designers and the newest fashions.

Apart from fashion altogether. There are many reasons why a character might be apart from fashion. Fashion is essentially self-expression, and some people don’t care. Take into consideration religious preferences (monk attire is pretty standard), strict parental figures (if your character is a youngster), or time travel (we’re lookin’ at you, Doctor Who). Characters who stand apart from fashion may also be unaware of the terminology to accurately describe clothing popular at the time and in the place of your story. These characters might not, for example, know the word “silk” and so must describe around the word. They might not have any concept for manufactured material and therefore have trouble describing nylon or faux leather.

Links to Look At:

“Why Do We Wear Clothes?” by vsauce

Glossary of Clothing Terms by allwords.com

Your Guide to Clothing Terms by EBay

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Let’s look at detail. What sort of descriptors could you use, how could you use them, and why?

Try not to go overboard with the description, but make your descriptive words count. Let’s look at an example of a simple description of the two largest articles of clothing on an example character:

She wore a top and a skirt. 

That’s pretty basic. “Top”, for example, isn’t very descriptive. After all, women’s fashion is complicated! So, let’s use specific terminology: 

She wore a blouse and a skirt. 

You might add color: 

She wore a black blouse and a gray skirt. 

You might add fabric descriptions (Remember, the color describes the fabric now, so it goes before the descriptive word for whatever material the clothing is made of):

She wore a black silk blouse and a gray tweed skirt. 

There are other descriptors worth mentioning such as how the clothing drapes or hangs, its age and general condition, its size and length, and the overall feeling toward it from the narrator. 

How it drapes: The dress was slinky; it clung to her curves and pooled like water at her feet.

Its age/condition: His jeans were faded and ratty at the seams, especially on the back pockets where there were inch-wide holes.

Its size/length: Her boyfriend’s XXL shirt nearly swallowed her up and fell to her knees like a shapeless potato sack.

Narrator feeling: It was an ugly gray uniform. 

With all of these descriptors around, the business of relaying useful information to the the reader about a character’s clothing can get pretty muddled. No one wants to read a description like:

She wore a boring black silk blouse that was over-large, a few years old, and hung blandly from the crest of her breasts. Her shin-length gray tweed pencil skirt was also old and too small for her hips. 

There is just way too much going on there. Too many descriptors. Cut out the adjectives and adverbs that aren’t absolutely necessary, the ones that don’t really add anything essential to character or the look and feel of the scene. You may think that the above example is so obviously bloated that it’s too easy for me to state offhand that you must hack away at its descriptors and leave only the bare essentials. Well, I agree, but it is possible to have a decent bit of description and still overshare. For instance, it might be way too detailed to embroider the blouse and skirt example thusly:

She wore a black silk blouse that shone in the flourescent light of the waiting room. It had loose sleeves that gathered at the crook of her elbows with a little bow and buttons covered in the same sleek material as the blouse. Her skirt was made of gray tweed and slightly out of fashion. The waist cut uncomfortably into her stomach just below her navel and the hem rode up past her knees when she sat. She couldn’t cross her legs in the skirt; it was too tight. 

Now, if the “loose sleeves that gathered at her elbows” are described for a purpose--maybe she has an injury or blemish she’s trying to conceal or she’s very modest--then details of this kind are great to have. Unless the details of the clothes are important to develop the character or the plot or the setting, you need not distract the reader with unnecessary description. 

There are a few methods to consider when describing clothing. 

Blocks. Block style moves from the biggest, most noticeable articles of clothing to the smallest. It describes in a similar order to what the eye sees. Since the largest piece of clothing at around eye-level will be covering the upper body, block style usually starts there with a shirt or jacket or the bodice of a dress. Layers in an outfit are described from the outermost clothing item to the innermost item, then go back to catch the accent items. 

For example: He wears a jacket, vest, and crisp white shirt with a checkered tie and matching blue pocket handkerchief. 

Another fun tip: If items match, you only need to describe one with the corresponding details. Notice that I was able to omit the color of the tie because I said the blue handkerchief matched it and that I didn’t mention the pattern on the handkerchief because we knew that it at least looked good with a checkered tie. 

In the instance of a dress, however, it is more likely that block style will point out the most noticeable (i.e. largest) part of the dress first. If the dress has a poofy skirt, you can bet block style will point that out. Regardless, if the article of clothing covering the upper body is separate from the article covering the lower body, block style usually describes the top first then moves to the bottom then to details like shoes, belts, and jewelry.

Colors. A large part of clothing is color. The color of what a person wears often depicts their mood without them realizing. It has a lot to do with color psychology (x), which describes how different colors affect a person’s mood. The human eye is also attracted to bright colors (some of which even cause headaches and irritation, such as bright yellow or red), though the average eye can see around seven million colors. For more information on color theory, click here. 

More likely than not, a person wearing orange might be noticed before a person wearing gray. The eye is drawn to the orange because it is bright and demanding. Weather also affects what colors a character would wear. For example, in winter months, many people wear darker colors such as black, navy, grays, and browns (termed neutrals) because the lack of Vitamin-D in the human body doesn’t allow for endorphins to be produced as largely, causing a decline in mood. It is commonly believed that darker colors represent darker or depressing moods. And in summer months, your character might be wearing brighter colors such as yellows, pinks, and greens because sunlight elevates a person’s mood.

It is also important to remember the cultures of your characters. Say a character is getting married and is of Irish descent. Assuming she’s traditional, she would wear a blue wedding dress because in ancient times, blue represented purity and was the prefered color for brides. In many cultures, such as in Sweden and China, the color white represents mourning or death. It is essential to research the culture of your characters. Otherwise, you may end up with a white wedding that feels like a heck-of-a-lot more like a funeral. For more on what brides wear around the world, click here. For more on color symbolism, try here and here.

Describing colors can be difficult and you don’t want to be put into the category of really cliche fan fiction descriptions. His green orbs watered and he blinked to keep the tears from spilling over... Not happening here. Generally, you’ll need another word to help describe the color of something (for a list, click here). For example:

His shirt was pastel blue.

Placing “pastel” in front of “blue” indicates that the blue that he was wearing was lighter, or closer to a neutral color than if he were to be wearing a dark blue shirt. 

Her jeans were covered in patches fabric with flamboyant pink bunnies.

What do you think when you see the word flamboyant? You think bright; you think colorful; you think brightly colored and decorated. It adds more than just saying “Her jeans had patches in them”. Don’t be afraid to dip into the Crayola Crayon color dictionary and use names of colors like “Mac n’ Cheese Orange” or “Sahara Desert”. Used in the right context, these colors can add another dimension to your regular oranges and browns. Though these fun words are great alternatives to your average colors, be careful not to overuse them. No one wants to read one incredibly-detailed clothing item after another. 

Fun fact: If you put a group of women in a room, those who are wearing red are most likely on their period. 

Reverse Order of Dress. This is a weird one. When in doubt, describe in the order that you put on your clothes--backwards. Obviously, you’d want to start with the visible items and work your way closer and closer to the body. So, if you put on your shirt then your pants then your cardigan then your shoes, describe in that order. 

** This is not to say that H will not continue this series later on. However, this is the extent of their collaboration. 

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

What's "how to get to cracker barrel" ?

What's "how to get to cracker barrel" ?

Oh now that, that one isn't Actually a wip. It's a short story I finished ages ago that later ended up being inspiration for one of the plotlines in an anthology style audio drama podcast I want to make some day. There's 4 main characters:

The Mckellen sisters Jamie and Lady who aren't Actually sisters but pass rather well for twins since one of them is actually a changeling, Natalie Anderson, photographer and lady's GF, and Gavin Walker, a mage still haunted by the death of his fiance, Caleb Adams, mostly due to the fact that his fucking ghost won't leave him alone.

Art by @unded-bun (click image for higher quality)

I'm leaving out a lot of details, but I'd be happy to fill in the gaps if anyone asks.

I'll Also throw the story itself under a read more here, bc I'm still super proud of it even though it's a few years old now.

A small hotel on the outskirts of Savannah, Georgia. There is a Sonic Drive-in across the busy street. Bright neon lights in the window state, “Open 24/7!” A Greyhound bus is idling in the parking lot. A man, Gavin Walker, climbs off and crosses over to the hotel. He walks easily, but not confidently. Approaching the hotel’s entrance, he spots a cat eating from a plastic bowl in front of the door. The feline is small, and feral. He is black, with white paws. He does not pay Gavin any mind as he enters, only continuing to crunch on dry cat food.

There's a desk on the left side of the lobby. The receptionist smiles kindly as he checks in. Her eyes are tired. Gavin gives her a knowing nod, and travels deeper into the building. There is a sign marked, “Out Of Order.” on the elevator. This is a good thing. Gavin takes the stairs, of which there are three flights. This is also a good thing, because three is a good number. He enters the hallway, which is old, and worn. The walls bear chipped yellow paint, and the floor, faded red carpet. Gavin continues down the hall after checking the time on his phone. It is exactly 11:59PM. He turns the device off and begins to count the seconds. At sixty he has stopped in front of the elevator. The fluorescent light above him flickers. The elevator does not have an out of order sign on it. It is the same elevator as before. Gavin enters.

He presses the button for the first floor. In the lobby the check in desk is now on the opposite side of the room. The lights are off, the receptionist is gone. It is daytime outside now. The bus is gone and the Sonic is closed. The road is vacant. There is a cat outside. She is white, with black paws. She looks up at Gavin as he approaches. They lock eyes, and he kneels in front of her.

“Hello, cat.” He says.

“Hello, Mage.” Says the cat.

She flicks her tail, “What is it you seek?”

“Direction.”

She nods and stands, before making for the road. The Sonic across the street is closed, but it was never empty. A Sonic is not a sit down restaurant. Customers are expected to pull into a parking spot and order over an intercom, and then a waitress delivers their meal directly to their car. Gavin’s pretty sure places like Sonic were more common in the 1950’s, and he knows that drive in diners are a dying breed now a days. The thought gives him a strange sense of nostalgia for something he’d never actually experienced, and he shudders involuntarily.

The cat sits down in the parking spot furthest from the building. She watches as he presses the the button on the intercom, listens, ears swiveling, as they are greeted with static. Looking out of the corner of his eye, Gavin can see something moving within the darkened restaurant. An outline of a figure, only vaguely humanoid. The thing moves like a deranged ape, long, long arms dangling to the floor and dragging it forward. Its back is hunched, legs short and stumpy. Gavin can not see its face, and he does not wish to. The intercom crackles to life.

“WhAt can aH’ do fER ya’lL?” Drawls The Thing in the Sonic. It’s got a southern accent thicker than congeling visera, and the pitch of it’s voice fluctuates wildly. Gavin glances uncertainly at the cat, and she nods.

“I’m looking for Direction.”

“Ahhhhhh……” groans The Thing, “WEll, watch’ Yer goNna wanna dO is hEad doWn the road, bout maybeEEee…..foUr, five miLeS, an’ yer gOnna wanna look fer’ weEl, watch yer gonna wanna fiNd is soMeTHing’ idEaliZed, ya knOw? Like uh, somethin’ kinDa romanticized, an’ a liTtlE faKe in sOme senSe but reAlLy true in anOther, ya follow?”

“Yeah.” said Gavin, even though he did not follow at all.

“Yep,” Continued The Thing, “n’ yer gOnna wanna gEt yourself sOme rasPberRy lemONade when ya get theRe, It’s some gOod shit, lemme tell ya.”

“Alright, I’ll uh, I’ll do that.”

“Good, GoOd, That’s Good. Y'all have a niIiiccceee daaaaaay nooooow.” And then the intercom crackled once more, and returned to spewing static. Gavin released the button and looked around for the cat, hoping, maybe, for some more guidance, but she had long since abandoned him. He started walking down the road, away from the Sonic Drive-In, and The Thing inside, and hopefully towards where he needed to be.

Gavin started to think as he walked, which was not something he liked to do often. He much prefered to act in the moment without much consideration for the consequences of those actions until they themselves became the moment. Gavin did not like to think because he often thought much too deeply, and it sometimes scared him. Gavin thought about a lot of different things in quick succession, he thought about the missing greyhound bus, and The Thing in the Sonic, and wondered if the disappearance of one had to do anything with the appearance of the other. It probably did. He thought about what The Thing had told him to do, and why he was doing it. He thought about why he’d come here in the first place, to this inverted little section of Georgia. And he thought about Liminal Spaces, about busted elevators and darkened hotel hallways and empty stairwells. The air shifted suddenly as a pickup truck speed past him, it had a faded confederate flag on the back window.

Liminal Spaces, simply put, were the areas between one place and another. The small spots in the middle of point A and point B where reality seems to be altered in such a way that the change is almost imperceptible, and yet, it is still enough to leave you feeling so impossibly strange.

Liminal Spaces can also be doorways, if one knows how to properly open them.

Gavin isn’t sure how long he’s been walking down this empty stretch of road, but it’s been long enough that he can no longer see the Sonic Drive-in behind him. It’s not even a dot in the distance now, just gone, as though it were never there to begin with. He keeps going. He walks until his feet hurt, and his legs ache, and keeps going even after that. At some point he sticks his thumb out towards the road, tired enough to risk hitch-hiking, but no cars have gone by since the pickup truck. And at some point he takes a moment to rest. He sits down on the shoulder, and just breathes for a while. And then when he stands again, he sees the Cracker Barrel just down the road. Exhausted as he is, he knows it isn’t possible for him to not have seen it earlier. Gavin decides it’s best not to dwell on that, though, because this is exactly the kind of place where Cracker Barrels can just pop into existence. (Although, as he enters the restaurant, he remains somewhat annoyed that it couldn’t have decided to do it a little sooner.)

The front of the Cracker Barrel is a store selling all manner of things. There's a back corner full of vintage candy, a small section of organic make-ups, and another full of knick-knacks like salt and pepper shakers, and dreamcatchers, as well as the usual crap that tourists like to buy, T-shirts and mugs and what not. Gavin has never actually been in a “regular” Cracker Barrel, so he’s not sure if this is a completely normal thing, but he’s certain that a “regular” Cracker Barrel would not also be selling such wares as bottled crocodile tears and Unicorn meat slim jims. There aren’t a lot of people in the store, and yet Gavin finds it impossible to get a good look at any of them. The people look normal, but they move like extras in the background of a film. The only person in the room with any notable features is the waitress standing by the back. She’s short, and her hair and eyebrows have been dyed a vibrant blue. As Gavin follows her into the seating area he can't help but stare at her hair, and he finds himself thinking that it can’t possibly be dye, it’s too bright, somehow. She smiles at him as he sits, and her teeth are a just little too sharp.

Once he’s seated, she says, “Can I start you off with a drink?” Her voice has a pleasant, lilting tone to it.

Gavin thinks back to The Thing in the Sonic, “A Raspberry Lemonade? If that’s something you have here?”

She nods, and goes off to get him one. Gavin leans back in his chair and takes in his surroundings, trying to relax. The decor in the Cracker Barrel has a sort of vintage, rustic feel to it, there’s things like black and white photos, and old advertisements on the walls. All the furniture looks antique. There are quite a few other customers present. Most of them look like the same nondescript folk from the front, but a few stand out. There’s a woman in the back corner, she’s dressed in black furs and her head is an ember eyed wolf skull. She’s sitting across from a man with the skull of a stag upon his shoulders, the antlers adorned with ivy. There’s something resembling a giant moth sitting two tables away, slowly crunching its way through a Caesar salad. Occasionally, there’s a figure leaning against the kitchen doors, they look as though they’re made up of television static. Gavin’s eyes start to hurt from trying to look at them, so he turns his attention to the menu instead. The waitress returns with his Raspberry Lemonade, and he orders the Country Fried Shrimp.

Gavin takes a sip of his drink and finds that he agrees with the Thing in the sonic. It’s definitely some good shit.

“Funny seeing you around here, Gav.”

Gavin looks up from his drink, almost spills it in surprise.

“Is this seat taken?”

Gavin manages to shake his head.

Caleb Adams pulls out the chair across from him and sits. Gavin stares at him. He’s wearing a T-shirt that reads, “NORMAL HOROSCOPES: Making your day a little more magic whether you like it or not.” Gavin’s not sure if it’s supposed to be advertising for a psychic’s shop or if it’s some strange indie band he’s never heard of. Knowing Caleb, it’s probably the latter.

He finally manages to speak, “You’re dead.”

“Yeah?” Caleb leans an elbow on the table, and props his head up in his hand, his smile never wavers, “And?”

“And- and I don’t know, Fuck, I don’t know.”

The waitress briefly interrupts his existential crisis by depositing his Country Fried Shrimp on the table. Gavin looks down at it and tries to focus on the smell of greasy seafood instead of the dead man sitting across from him.

“You seem confused.” Caleb’s voice sounds uncharacteristically sympathetic.

Gavin nods.

He sighs, frowning “Eat your lunch, and then we’ll talk.”

Gavin eats what he can, but it’s a large portion, and he’s somehow not that hungry. He takes a final bite, and pushes the plate across the table, silently offering Caleb the rest of the shrimp.

The barest hint of a smile returns to his face, “Thanks, but no.” And then he’s frowning again, “Why’re you here, Gav?”

“I just went where I was told to-”

He shakes his head, “No. I don’t mean the friggin’ Cracker Barrel, I mean Here.”

And Gavin doesn’t really know what to tell him. That he’s here because he felt lost and desperate? That he didn’t know what to do anymore? That it doesn’t matter anyway because he’s fine, everything's fine and he’s just tired?

But he doesn’t tell Caleb any of that, he just says, “I miss you.” And he can’t keep his voice from cracking.

“I know you do.” Caleb places a hand over his, “But this is damn near one of the dumbest things you’ve ever done. You knew this place wouldn’t be safe for you.”

He feels numb, “I didn’t really care.”

“Gavin,” Caleb grips his hand now, “Look at me, please. I mean, really look at me.”

So he does, he looks up at him, and finally, meets his eyes.

They have not changed. Death has not reduced the amount of compassion behind them, nor faded the sea blue color. Gavin stares. Eyes are supposed to be a window into someone's soul, a way to truly see into them, and Gavin just stares because Caleb’s eyes are still capable of conveying so much, and he can feel tears running down his face…..

“It’s time to go home, Gav, okay?” He gestures to the window, and the Greyhound bus has pulled up, “Your ride's here.”

And Gavin knows has to force himself to look away and loosen his grip, and he can’t bring himself to.

“It’s alright.” He says, “It’s going to be alright. I’ll take care of the bill, Please just let go.”

And Gavin finally, Finally manages to tear himself away.

He does not feel anything but relief as he leaves, as he boards the bus and settles into a seat. He leans back, and watches through the window as the world shifts and shimmers and is suddenly dark and starry once more. As the Greyhound pulls out of the Sonic parking lot, Gavin closes his eyes, and slowly falls into the comfort of a deep, dreamless sleep.