#which is not for me. there is also perhaps too much going on

[vincentbriggs]

so i am newly in a wheelchair which has been a Massive gain in my ability to go out and about. but i realized that i have aprox 0 clothes that look Good while seated. its a completely different silhouette and i am at a loss as to what to do for it. do you have any suggestions for what could look good seated? preferably no skirts or dresses.

Edit: Check the notes for more people's input, including actual wheelchair users who know much more about what works than I could!

Congrats on chair acquisition!!

Since you're sending this to me specifically I am working under the assumption that you mean to do some amount of sewing.

A high waisted silhouette definitely works best for sitting. I make all my pants with the waistband at my natural waist, and a bit of pleating or gathering at the back just like they did on 18th century breeches, and I've never noticed any particular discomfort from sitting in them. (I think high waisted pants are more comfortable in general, and that low rise jeans are evil.)

It's something I've never really thought about before, but sitting is a very legs-forward position, so perhaps a colourful or fancy stripe down the side would work well.

(I made this pair 10 years ago and they didn't fit well and are long gone, but I should do a better version someday...)

Or some other form of side seam decoration, like these fabulous button tabs.

(I don't know what the source for this mid 19th century fashion plate is.)

Cropped jackets would also be good. The first thing that comes to mind for me is the Carmagnole, which was a style worn by French revolutionaries. It's got a pretty similar cut to a regular 1790's coat, just shorter.

(Source)

(Source)

And there are other styles of short jacket, like this one from a few decades later.

I think it might be possible to get a similar effect from cutting down a thrifted corduroy jacket, depending on the pocket placement? It's not something I've done myself though.

A fancy little bolero could be a lot of fun too! I quite like these ones made by Marlowe Lune. Super easy to sew, and could be patterned by cutting down a bigger pattern that fits the torso.

They'd be a good thing to try if you have a smallish piece of fancy fabric, or a small bit trim to use, or want to try a small amount of embroidery.

There are lots of historical styles with sleeves too, and all sorts of decorations.

(Dunno the source for this one either, unfortunately, but the pin says 1880s reception dress. I think a little jacket like that would look good with a puffy shirt and pants.)

Short capes might be practical too, and the late 19th and early 20th century have tons of fancy capelets for inspiration, like this one.

Or this one.

I hope this is somehow helpful! I don't know if you're looking to sew things from scratch or to buy and alter stuff or what, and I have no personal experience using a wheelchair, but these are the best things I can think of for a suitable silhouette. Dramatic sleeve/shoulder puffs would also be shown off to great effect, if that's something you'd like to wear.

[hannieween]

wicked games series, teaser | k.mg

Kim Mingyu came into your life at a time when you needed a friend the most. And that he was: a friend that you could confide in and laugh together, share your secrets with and perhaps, share a burden that was too similar to his.

☆ pairings: kim mingyu x female reader ☆ genre: angst, smut [18+] ☆ aus: bartender mingyu, rebound fuck, friends to fucking, toxic fwb ☆ word count: 1.8k teaser – 20k full chapter

› date of release: 09.29

🎧: hold me – hojean

› read more

chapter i – teaser

Damn you summer rains.

They always came when you least expect it, in the blink of an eye. The air felt so hot as you went out of your office that you could barely walk outside, but then the rain started pouring over you with little to no notice.

Walking down the sidewalk in working shoes was not the best idea. In fact, you were heavily contemplating removing them and just going back home barefoot.

You came to a reluctant halt in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, as heavy droplets of water fell on your face, on the back of your head as you stared at your shoes, getting wetter and wetter as you pondered over your dilemma.

“Lost something?”

Taking one big gulp of air, you shot a look across the sidewalk, only to find Kim Mingyu standing, wearing his usual attire for work. The features of his face looked relaxed despite the heaviness with which he approached you, carrying his fatigue in his limbs with each step.

His white T-shirt began to accumulate wet spots on his shoulders and chest. His cheeks were soaked, as was his long messy hair.

You gaped at him in question. The dilemma occupying your brain dissipated into the void, quickly replaced by the shock of seeing him after days of keeping him at arm’s length without failure.

“Hi there,” he muttered once he stood one step before you.

“Hi,” you smiled, having to tilt your head to find his face.

“You’ve been gone,” he said with some air of urgency, much as if he did not want to lose you at some lazy excuse on your part. “I was starting to wonder that you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”

You hated his straightforwardness sometimes. “Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose in discomfort, receiving more fat droplets of water on your face. “I needed some me time.”

“Then you should’ve just said so, dummy,” he pointed, rolling his eyes at you as if his point were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I struggle to say things sometimes,” you retorted in a whiny tone. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation but we’re literally just soaking in the middle of the street.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, as though he had not noticed the rain pouring down on both of you. “I’ll walk you home,” he motioned in the opposite direction from which he was previously coming.

And with that, he turned around and started to walk down the street.

You fell into step at his side, struggling to keep his steady pace. “Slow down,” you exhaled.

“Right,” he giggled sweetly. “Short legs.”

“Shut up,” you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You just walk really fast.”

“Because I’m taller than you, my legs are longer,” he motioned to his legs, taking one big step that amounted to three of yours.

“Well, then walk slower, please,” you huffed with exhaustion already building up in your feet.

Mingyu noticed, still looking at your face as he walked. “Fine, okay,” he conceded. “Are you just clocking off work?”

You nodded, noticing your ponytail heavier now that your hair was soaking. “I wanted to finish everything before the weekend.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he gasped in dramatic reprimand.

“Don’t give me that look,” you frowned, pointing a finger at him. “I could say the same to you! You also just clocked off.”

“But that is normal for my job! What you do is not something specifically for night hours,” he argued, matching your tone.

“What do you know about what I do?” you tried to argue but a smile fought to curve your lips. “I could hold office hours specifically between 11 pm and 3 am,” you giggled impishly.

“Ah, really you are…” he rolled his eyes but shook the thought from his head. “Could you finish?”

Droplets of water slid down the bridge of his nose, dropping from the tip and onto his cupid’s bow. You remembered the cute little beauty mark sitting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to kiss it.

It took you one second to understand what he was implying. “Oh, yes, I did,” you stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.

But Mingyu did not notice the meaning behind your gaze. “That’s good,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.

The short spasm returned in your chest, making you tear your eyes from his face and keep walking beside him, staring at the sidewalk.

“How was work tonight?” you returned the question, trying to get as much light conversation as you could without falling into the deep craving tugging in your insides.

“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What would that look like?” you ventured.

“Ah, well, drunk people tend to be funny,” he showed you a toothy grin. “One guy celebrated his birthday at the bar one night, and after a few drinks he lost control, went insane,” he laughed at the memory of it. “He started thinking he was an idol, he requested a song and got on top of the bar and started dancing.”

His laugh was contagious, you could not help but respond with a giggle of your own. “Oh, no, that sounds embarrassing. What did you do?”

“He lost his balance and fell to the floor,” his smile vanished, shuddering slightly. “He broke his nose, I had to call an ambulance,” he finished the story, scratching his nape absentmindedly.

“That’s not how I thought the story would end. Talk about a night to remember,” you huffed awkwardly.

“Well that is one story of many,” his eyes widened slightly.

“But you like it?” you raised your eyebrows. “D-do you like your job?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed with a nod.

The rain had completely succeeded at soaking your clothes, your button shirt felt cold against your skin, and your jeans were tight and damp, it was starting to get hard to move.

Whereas you felt like a wet ragged doll, Mingyu looked like a supermodel. His long dark hair was dripping wet onto his beautiful face. His white T-shirt was clinging to the muscles of his body, letting you view the well-defined lines of his abdomen.

“Were here already?” Mingyu asked when you came to a halt in front of your building.

“Yeah,” you said distractedly, sending him a look as you opened the door to the inside of the building, welcomed by the smell of humidity and dust. “Don’t just stand there.”

The man followed you inside without much insistence. You started machining in your brain your next movements while climbing the first flight of stairs to the door of your apartment, which you opened with a shaky hand.

You staggered awkwardly against the door frame, trying to keep your chin up to hold his gaze. One hand brushed the worn edges of the frame, resting on it as you caught your breath. Mingyu noticed your eyes this time around. And you almost did not want to realize that his eyes were on your body as well.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked meekly, darting a look at the dark interior of your apartment, aside from the little lamp you always left on when you went out. “I can make something to eat. And lend you a towel, fresh clothes, maybe.”

Much to your fortune, the man nodded with his head. “If you want,” he mumbled, so you slid back inside your apartment for him to follow inside. “Though I might have to reject the clothes,” reluctantly, he walked inside your little sanctuary, looking at the big frame abandoned and leaning against the wall of the hallway.

“Why?” you asked, still walking backward as he paced in front of you.

“Because they might not fit me,” he chuckled, his smile knocking the air out of your lungs.

“What do you know, I could have something that might,” you smirked, getting him a towel you had discarded earlier in the morning.

He gave you a light gesture of gratitude with his head, thanks, he mouthed before pressing the towel to his face.

“Do you…” you hesitated. “Can I offer you something?”

He sneaked a look at you with the towel pressed to the lower half of his face.

“Like water?” you suggested with a sheepish smile. “I have ramen–and rice in the fridge.”

He contemplated you as you swayed your body on the balls of your feet ever so gently. “You don’t need to do that,” he finally replied.

“It’s just food, Mingyu. You walked home with me,” you shrugged, motioning to the kitchen, your fingers grazing the rim of the dining table.

The man took one step towards you, making your step stutter. “I mean that,” he smiled. “You don’t have to repay nothing, shorty. That’s what friends are for.”

You stumbled against the edge of your dining table, a gasp leaving your lips that you quickly tried to replace with a muffled chuckle. “You know, I could say the same thing.”  

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“What?” you breathed, completely perplexed by both the proximity and the question. “Ke-keep what up?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he muttered gruffly, pushing you to lean back against the dining table without laying one finger on you. He was just so close to you that you had no room to breathe.

“Noticed what? Mingyu–,” you giggled in utter shyness when he knowingly smiled at you. The blood rushing to your face made your skin tingle, you bit your lower lip.

“Am I making you nervous?” his voice dropped, his dark eyes reading the features of your face with avid curiosity.

“Yes,” you admitted, leaning back with your hands gripping the wooden rim of the table as he towered over you. “I like you, Kim Mingyu.”

His triumphant smile crushed your heart with its beauty. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.

“I like you too,” he whispered, leaning closer, the smile fading softly you stopped moving back.

“Mingyu,” you whispered, hating how much you were flustered at his confession, your voice waning.

Mingyu paused, but it was not out of hesitance, his gaze swimming on your features quickly softened once you dared to reach out to him. Using the proximity of your bodies, you found his face with your hands, realizing how warm his skin was.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, nodding slightly with his head. Mingyu wanted this too.

You are not sure what happened if you moved first or he did. You closed your eyes, breath hitching as his lips touched yours, your skin coming to life with a fiery rush of blood. From pressing his lips against your own, he quickly moved to kiss you deeper, using one hand on your chin to tilt your face to him.

Your heart stammered in your chest, his hand returning to park in your waist. Friends don’t kiss, you wanted to tell him.

But who were you kidding, you had never wanted someone like you wanted Mingyu.

☆ author's note: hello hello hi there it's hannieween with an announcement to make!!!

this is my new series (yes, i'm starting a new series even though i have like 3958 other wips going on atm lol)

so this is it, this is a teaser of what's to come. there are some things that i'll change here and there in the final version so be on the lookout for that hehe

that's it for the moment, oh and tell me if you would like to be tagged (●'◡'●)

toodles!

☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART I! ☆ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

© TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[heartfullofleeches]

While the psychological mindfuxking Host puts Darling through in order to wear them down into being his co-host is honestly one of the most fun things to write, I live for Darlings who were never appreciated in their own time and suck up all the praise he gives them for their talents.

Crafty Reader who also dabbles in a bit of inter decorating winds up on Host's show and their immediate first thought is "Damn, bitch- You host a game show on this stage?"

It's cute- but a little outdated. Where's the passion? The irritatingly bright neon signs that burn their eyes from a mere glance. Potted plants??? Anything??

Normally Host isn't one to tolerate guests that interrupt his opening speech, but as Darling goes off on their tangent Host is left stumped - stupefied, damn near mesmerized by that fire in their eyes. He can't say they aren't wrong either- Props come and go as Host wishes, but the stage is a bit lacking without them. Not contestants don't stick around long enough to point it out, but with his newest and top pick for co-host right in front of him perhaps it's time for a few changes.

"Congratulations! You won today's show Give our fans a big smile and wave goodbye to our losers."

"I won?...but you didn't even ask me any questions."

"Oh, you- If answering questions was the only way to win here no one would."

Darling is whisked away by stage hands into a bedroom- The room is deprived of any furniture beyond a bed, a large chest propped against the farthest wall, and a table upon which an old sewing machine sits. It looks a bit like the one they had back home, but the label is made up of jumbled letters and symbols. How are they supposed to use the darn thing without any supplies anyway?

Darling inspects the chest and finds.... pretty much everything tucked away in their small bedroom, their real bedroom that they use for their projects. No construction paper, though.....

Oh. There's some.

Darling quickly discovers that whatever they require appears in the chest whenever they're vocal with their requests. On occasion, the chest acts without their say and pulls the thought from their mind before they're able to speak. It isn't long before the empty space is fully stylized to their personality and presences. Darling thinks they did a great job. The teddy bear on their bed believes so too.

.....When did that get there?

Darling may have won his show, but Host is the real winner when he see what Darling has done to his stage. Host are extended by another hour....or year with how long he brags to guests about Darling's craftsmanship. Time is a tricky thing to keep track of when the watches you wear flop between ticking backwards or at a snails pace.

"Thoughts on those name plates? Our brilliant co-host made them for you all- Are you lucky? I of course have my own, but- Oh, come now. I know this is top quality work, but there's no need to scream. Give our co-host a hand for all their hard work....Or lose both."

[ethereal-blossom]

Deep dive on Victor and his possible past + curse

This man is as attractive as he is mysterious and the curiosity is killing me, so I just need to let out some thoughts.

** I'm going to be referencing some translations and posts so I'll link them and their OP's (I'm too afraid to tag hehe but they deserve all the love and appreciation🩷)

Be aware of JP and EN spoilers

First, what are some things we know and are safe to assume when it comes to Victor? He's the co-founder of Crown and the Queen's Aide. I think it's safe to assume Victor is the oldest in Crown; Harrison calls him an old goat, he acts like a mom, and I believe in the Valentine event the dynamic between Harry and Victor was labeled child-parent. Through this detailed post that @/kurishiri made we can guess that Victor is 30/32+ years, which I have to subjectively note is very hot. William was 14 when he was invited to the castle where he met Victor, meaning that Victor has been associated with the castle for at least 14 years. Was he already the Queen's Aide back then? High-likely, yes.

But how long exactly has Victor been the Queen's Aide? And how did he become one in the first place? One thing that stands out to me is this dialogue in Victor's Wicked Little Secret event:

For context, Victor is sharing why he started doing magic tricks. He explains it's traced back to the queen and how she does them as a reminder of how difficult but precious it is to get someone to smile.

Of course, it can be that Victor simply didn't go with the queen to the slums that day or that she told him about it, but I like to think about the possibility he didn't know the queen at this point but knew about it anyways because he was a kid in the slums. It might explain why he doesn't necessarily pay attention to status and why he treats people such as the villagers and Kate as his equals despite being the most powerful man in the country. Does he stay humble due to perhaps having experienced the lack of power, money, and status to a severe degree? And is the Victorian slums the reason why he suffered enough pain for a lifetime?

@/Reccyls translated an event in which the suitors are meant to win over Kate's heart by having her give the suitor a heart-shaped necklace. Jude, Roger, and Alfons are being very proactive while Elbert, William, and Victor are drinking tea. The nobles team points out there's no rush because it's the end of the day that matters. Victor agrees but then suggests they're also probably laid back because they are rich. It might be nothing but if you ask me, that's pretty self-aware and honest for a rich person. Not every rich person will realize having money does influence you, and not everybody loves to point out the frowned upon behavior that comes along with money, especially when it applies to yourself. So, it's a very small thing to say and I might be reading too much into it, but I think the people who know the affect of money better than anyone are the people who weren't born first class.

Victor continues to point out what makes William and Elbert rich, but right when he wants to talk about himself he cuts himself off (🖕/affectionately) . It confuses me because sir, you are the Queen's Aide. Why is it a mystery that you're rich? Elbert asks if Victor comes from nobility but we never get a yes or no answer to that. So is there still a chance he might have been born in a rich family? Yeah, but I'm not a strong believer of it. Victor is known to cook and sew, and I don't remember where or when but I believe he said somewhere that if he can do it himself he won't let the maids do it. Does that sound like the skills and the mindset of a man born in nobility during the Victorian age? Not to me, so here comes my next thought: what if queen Victoria has taken young Victor under her wing?

I don't know how it would necessarily end up like this, though. But I was thinking: it didn't go unnoticed by us that Victor and Victoria's names are scarily similar to each other (it's like yeah whatever we're a bit like Sherlock ourselves yknow💅). What if his name was quite literally inspired by the Queen's name in the story itself? Maybe Victor chose it or Victoria gave it to him.

Because @/shatcey recently made a post pointing out that William said "the man who calls himself Victor." I heavily agree with her that the phrasing is suspicious, mostly because of Victor as a character.

If he is from the slums then perhaps he's an orphan who doesn't know his actual name, or maybe he took up another name? If Victor is not his actual name, it might explain why we don't have a last name in the first place. Also, @/otomefiend translated the Black Wedding event when it came out in JP. While the official English translation uses "business smile" to describe Victor wearing a smile to bury his dark comment, I like her translation saying "Victor, the Queen's Aide' expression" much better. I genuinely could go into depth about this but I sadly digress. It makes me think back on the summary reccyls did for the first christmas event wherein Victor was wondering if he should give a "Victor-like" response.

Naturally, it can also mean he just has different persona's connected to his masks as this is a reoccurring theme and topic in his content. Victor said in the Between Villains' epilogue (translated by otomefiend) that he wants to be seen as the gentle Queen's Aide by Kate, so after showing a bit of his darker side it's natural he goes back to his gentle side that still implies distance to ease Kate. However, that doesn't make any of his masks a lie or someone he is not. Important disclaimer to put out there because this doesn't have to be proof that Victor isn't who he says he is. The phrasing just reminded me of this.

So, it wouldn't be a deep dive if I didn't talk about the theory that Victor might be the queen. Harrison has pointed out twice that Victor lies a lot. I think it'd be so funny if Harry is going to be like "stay away from Kate you old goat >:(" in Victor's route and then William is going to be the complete opposite like "listen to your desires and get a room already :)"

I think we might have seen the queen once, but it's canon that people have cosplayed her so who says it doesn't happen all the time? Victor only has to say the Queen's safety is in danger and then someone will fill in. I think it's safe to assume Cybird is making us doubt whether the queen is alive on purpose and what does that say about the mystery? You don't create mystery when there's nothing to reveal.

In Wrapped in Wicked Romance, something broke from the Queen's tea set only for Victor to reveal that, surprise, it's his own set! During the first anniversary epilogue (talked about by shatcey here) Kate gets told the queen is waiting for her in Victor's office and surprise, it's Victor! Or how in Between Two Villains it's mentioned how Victoria doesn't seem human because of the dedication she has as queen but then the doubt of humanity is a theme in Victor's events as well. Or how in Harrison's route Jude is reading the morning's newspaper and it mentions a criminal situation and surprise, Victor shows up from behind and says the queen ordered a mission related to it... almost like he overheard the news and decided on the spot it had to be dealt with.

To be honest, I don't know what to think when it comes to the queen. If she's actually dead, I think she might have died from an illness and then the veil + private persona might have been crafted to make it easier to look like she's alive (a bit like this one thing in Ikemen Prince). Why she should give the impression of being alive? I don't know, there's a high chance I am reaching. Maybe the queen is very healthy and happily living her introverted life.

Going back to another translation by reccyls, here Victor ends on the note that even if he has feelings for Kate he can't offer anything as "I belong to her majesty/ Victor belongs to Victoria." Ignore that you can call me the wicked witch of the west with how green of envy I turned, but this stood out to me a lot.

I think it shows an incredible amount of dedication and loyalty, and I read it in two ways. If Victor was saved by Victoria, it might be that he feels like he owes her himself, or perhaps a deal/promise was made? But, in a way, I also read it as Victor belonging to England. His loyalty towards queen Victoria is loyalty towards the safety and well-being of England, a land he's passionate about keeping safe.

The relationship between Victor and Victoria is lowkey fascinating to me because if she's still alive, they have been together for so many years. Victor always talks so positively about her so even though we barely interacted with her, I became to really like and admire ikevil!Victoria. Victor is also the only one who we know speaks with the queen directly. For the tea set mentioned earlier, Victor said he replaced them with his own because he is known to break them when he and the queen are drinking tea. Victor braids the queen's hair and helps her with fashion. William even said in this event translated by @/judesmoonbeauty that the queen knows everything about Victor.

We've almost reached the end but the last thing I want to talk about is Victor's birthday event translated by @/archiveikemen. Victor murders a bunch of criminals with what I assume is his curse or something in that direction. He commands them to succumb to his wickedness and the people essentially kill themselves with a peaceful expression. William makes a comment about it, saying these men look as if almost possessed by a God. Victor thinks to himself it's like saying "Her Majesty The Queen" was no God, and then he says humans can never be God. To be honest, I'm slightly confused because I feel like this can mean different things. When Will makes his comment he's speaking about the peaceful faces, so I don't think he's talking about how the criminals were unhealthily worshipping the queen but I assume he's talking about Victor's ability.

One of the reasons why I think it's a curse is because of this post Shatcey made. One of the screenshots translates to Victor saying he doesn't want Kate to end up lying at his feet with a happy face. It sounds an awful lot like what happened to the criminals in the event. Victor worrying about Kate's fate like that makes me believe it might has something to do with the fate of his possible curse. Think about it: Kate essentially gets dragged in every cursed fate of the suitors and if Victor is another cursed individual, it's high-likely his curse is related to death.

There must be something special going on, though. Is Victor's curse like any other but kept a mystery because something about Victor's identity should stay a mystery? Or is there actually something special about his curse or whatever ability he has? Because his birthday event convinced me he's not an ordinary human. However, something special must be going on for this to be a mystery.

Funny story but for a while I thought that if Victor is cursed it might be Ursula from The Little Mermaid. Sometimes you can see Easter eggs of the suitor's curses back in the outfit designs so when I looked at Victor's outfit, I saw he has scrubs on his jacket (reminding me of fish) and something that looks like knots/ropes (reminding me of sailboats), plus the deep blue and black aesthetic still reminds me of the dark sea. There is also a part in the christmas event where Victor thinks to himself he has sacrificed his human soul to death in order to get what he has now, and who has a song about doing business with poor unfortunate souls?

In this flashback translated by reccyls, I think we are witnessing the moment he's sacrificing his soul. He has a choice that'll impact him as a person greatly and I feel like it's safe to assume he's close to dying, so it'd make sense if this part of his life triggered a curse related to death. Also, his flashback says "the path of becoming the dust of history" which is another reason why I think Victor might have come from the slums, or at least not nobility. It sounds like Victor himself thought he had left no footprint on the world, which actually aligns with his character if you read the translation of Will saying Victoria knows Victor better than anyone till the end.

But I got sidetracked a lot. I think the comment Victor made about the queen in his birthday event is another micro-hint. I sometimes feel like I'm reaching like a clown trying to figure out if Victor isn't keeping up the idea the queen is still alive. It almost feels like having a gaslighting lover; am I picking up clues or am I picking up clowns makeup? Wouldn't it actually be a possibility for Harry to help Kate unreveal the mystery that is Victor? Because while they're not the most interactive dynamic, I feel like Harrison will at least have a little role in Victor's route. As I mentioned before, Harrison pointed out twice that Victor lies a lot: one time in his own route and the second time in the Christmas event. He goes a step further in the latter one, saying that if Kate takes the first step towards Victor's darkness, he'll open her eyes to the truth. Plus, Harrison already had his "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth" moment in his route so I think it makes sense for the Sherlock lover who is a walking lie detector to play a role in the most mysterious suitor who is a walking liar's route.

The actual last thing I want to talk about (guess I'm a liar like Victor) I notice that in events wherein Victor and Kate are together, they declare their love in an interesting way. Since death seems to be a huge part of Victor that possibly is connected to a curse, the two put focus on loving each other even after death. I'm curious if this is part of Victor's possible fate or if this is just a romantic way of thinking that fits Victor's theme. Either way, I think it's perfect to end on this note.

So, I think this is mostly what I wanted to get out. Thank you for having read all the way through and please share any theories you have! And spread love for the people mentioned in this post because I'm eternally grateful for everything they translate and post🩷

[eraofkalki]

OKIE SO ITS LIKE

solomon and mc are married, and one night, solomon comes home with blood on his clothes and face for some reason. maybe he got into an intense magic duel, perhaps he needed a lot of sacrifices for a ritual, whatever. mc runs up to him, terrified, asking if he's okay. but solomon just laughs. no need to worry! it's not his blood! hehe <3

mc sighs. "alright... now, let's clean you up. i'll hose you down outside."

"aw, i thought my adorable spouse would draw me a bath after a long day... :((("

"you'll get one after the hose so you don't track blood through my house, okay? :)"

it's solomon's turn to sigh, since his fake pouting didn't immediately work. "yes, dear."

"what's wrong, honey? why aren't you happy to see me?" solomon asks, with a pout and an adorable tilt of his face, which would've been adorable if it weren't for the --

"blood? solomon, what the hell?!" you asked, the sounds of your heartbeat reverberating in your ears, your gut tightening from panic.

"darling, darling, shhh, listen to me--" he begins as he blocks your incoming assault with his arms and prepares to gather you into an embrace before stopping himself. you don't need to get this blood on your precious self.

"i'm not hurt, alright?" he says with a lighthearted chuckle at your face contorted with worry. "it's not mine."

you let out a long, weary sigh. at least your lovely face wasn't marred with anxiety now. "just...what were you up to?" you asked him, searching his calm eyes for an answer.

"i just got into a duel with another sorcerer who challenged me. things got...slightly messy, i suppose," solomon began. "but, you don't need to worry about all that. it's nothing serious."

it's nothing serious. hmph. alright, then so be it. in any case, you were not about to let even your husband dirty your house with blood. so, outside it was.

"fine. now, come out with me, i'll hose you down."

his eyes widened in mock surprise and hurt. "really? you're not going to draw a bath for me? after such a long day? and run your hands through my hair and tell me you love me?" his hand went to his chest as he puts on a hurt expression.

"of course i will! after i clean you up. because if you take a single step inside, you clean everything up, understood?" you said with a smile, at which he agreed reluctantly.

although solomon didn't get to be pampered by his love (what was he expecting anyways?), any moment with you was his favourite moment. even if it was you shooting him with water while admonishing him for showing up home the way he did.

having a sorcerer spouse like solomon had its ups and downs. but one thing was for sure; life would never cease to bring surprises at your doorstep, like a blood covered husband on a fine evening.

and life would also never stop reminding you of the gifts you had; like the aforementioned husband who joyfully coos into your lap about how much he adores you as you stroke his silver hair.

"...i love you too, silly."

[lala-blahblah]

I absolutely cannot sit down and write a nice version of this bc my brain says no, but i would like to let you all know I'm thinking of a fanfic where older Edgeworth is moving back to the US (or japan, whichever universe you subscribe to) and runs into Nick in the store while buying mass produced art to hang on the walls of his new house.

And Nick is like "dear god do you want your house to look like a dentist's office. Please do better" (in a friendly way, they are too old for rivalry at this point) and so Nick invites Edgeworth to come over and take any of his old artwork from college, since it is just sitting in a portfolio in a closet somewhere. And Edgeworth agrees to come over and look through Nick's old stuff together. There are themes of 1) growing older and like reflecting on the past and 2) Nick's character trait of finding meaning in challenges vs Edgeworth's tendency to stick with what he does well. In my head I imagine that Nick was good at art and it came somewhat easily to him and that bored him, and he was drawn to law in part because it was hard and it excited him and made him want to try harder. And i think tying that in with fatherhood, like it being unexpected and hard but something he thrives at because he feels good when there's a challenge. Potentially also touching on how like, when he lost his badge he felt very listless and depressed because he wasn't being challenged anymore, there wasn't anything to drive him and motivate him. And I think Edgeworth would be impressed by seeing Nick's old pieces (I assume he hasn't seen much of his art before) and wondering why he didn't choose to pursue art further. He also thinks about how art had always put him off personally because he couldn't get it "right" right away, and on the other hand how the structure and logic of law came easily to him, which led him to become a lawyer. I think he measures his self worth by his success in his field because he never had the support to believe he had intrinsic value as a person and maybe wasn't so good at making emotional connections with people. So that big contrast between them is so interesting... I think Edgeworth would be jealous of Nick's bravery in pursuing something he was bad at without giving up and Nick would be jealous of Edgeworth's success in law, but in a subdued way as they've grown older.

A far as actual scenes in the fic, I think I would use Nick's art as a conduit for my own agenda to have them talk about topics that are of interest to me... I would like Edgeworth to feel out of his depth for once and for nick to be the confident one as he talks about something he is well versed in, and for edgeworth to have to face that discomfort and also be a little impressed intellectually with Nick. I think I would do that by having them look through some abstract art Nick did (my intro painting classes were all abstract so we could focus on color mixing and getting comfortable with the medium). Edgeworth compliments Nick on a painting with a bunch of colored squares in gradient clusters and then gets embarrassed when Nick tells him those were just color mixing swatches. Alternatively, in my mind they are both asexual and I think even though this feels like a hallmark cliche I would have Edgeworth flounder and be very embarrassed over Nick's old figure drawing piece. I feel like Nick would be like "no you don't understand it's all very professional and normal when we draw them, like it's just about learning the shape language" and Edgeworth would be like "this is very improper and I don't know how to react can we please not look at naked people!". I don't think i would do both, but something to upset the power dynamic for a moment would be interesting! Nick is always the awkward one I want to see him shine for just a moment enough for edgeworth to go "wait what... i've known him for so long but perhaps i don't really know him at all..."

I would want Edgeworth to end up taking a series of 3 canvases Nick did in an oil painting class that were still lifes of objects the teacher had set up around the classroom. I headcanon that Nick actually far preferred drawing people to objects and rebelled against the assignment by hiding his reflection in one of the objects in each drawing- the top of his head is hidden in an ornament on a christmas tree, his eye is reflected in the shine of a china vase, etc. So it's a little secret, and Edgeworth kind of likes that... it is sweet in a way to see a much younger Phoenix captured in time like that. Something Edgeworth will be reminded of when he sees the paintings but nobody else will catch onto

I would want to layer this with a fatherhood storyline... I think i would frame it as nick inviting edgeworth over to dinner with him and Trucy and Edgeworth stepping into this domestic family life as a visitor and witnessing how its transformed Nick, like seeing him from a different lens. I think after they pick out paintings and have dinner they sit around talking. Trucy had been sitting with them, earlier she showed off some magic tricks and gave Edgeworth a picture of hers from the fridge to add to his new art collection (it's a rainbow dolphin and a sea turtle wearing top hats. Nick says she's in her Lisa Frank era). But she's been quiet for awhile and Nick realizes she's fallen asleep and it's like 11. He's like, crap, i screwed up i should've paid attention and gotten her put to bed, I'm a bad father and I have an audience for this failure. And on top of that, I already failed at being a lawyer, no matter what I try I always disappoint everyone. It's an unexpected moment of vulnerability there... like he's seemed so put together and grown up to Edgeworth this whole time like a whole different person, but he's not a different person he just has different sides to him. And this moment is one where edgeworth can be like hey, no, you're a great dad, and I'm impressed by you and everything you achieved. And I think that could lead into vulnerability from Edgeworth about his relationship with his dad and how he misses him/how he feels like he hasn't really been loved by anyone since his dad died, and how Trucy is lucky to have someone like Nick in her life.

Nick excuses himself to carry Trucy to bed and Miles starts cleaning up the kitchen. I would give a moments pause here to talk about the strange intimacy of going through someone else's kitchen cabinets and drawers, you feel like a stranger there trying to put yourself into someone else's shoes to understand how they live in this space. Maybe he guesses the right drawer for the silverware first try and he feels a little spark of connection. like "we are different in many ways but we are alike enough that we look in the same place for our spoons". Details on the kitchen too about the kid safe plastic bowls and knives that indicate a child is part of the household, that the household has been built around the child, in fact. Edgeworth lives alone and I imagine things are kind of fancy for him (he's a man who wears a cravat so he probably has fine china right). It's completely different from this shabby mismatched cutlery that Nick has, but this kitchen has personality. Maybe he wouldn't mind having a kitchen like this so much. This is a hint at him being lonely, being included in this family unit just for a day has given him this curious sense of longing, for what he isn't sure... does he want kids? Does he want Nick? Does he just want to be part of a family? These are confusing questions and he would much rather not feel anything at all, but unfortunately it is late and he did have a glass of wine with dinner so emotions are Happening.

He hears Nick sigh tiredly as he comes into the kitchen, and Edgeworth starts to ask him where his tupperware is when suddenly Nick is wrapping his arms around him and Edgeworth is Very Tense because he's never good at knowing how to act in situations like this and he and Nick have never been on a hugging level before and he's not sure what this is even for. Then Nick is like "I keep thinking about what you said earlier, about feeling alone ever since your dad passed away. I didn't know, that's such a long time to feel alone. I don't want you to think you're on your own". Edgeworth relaxes a little bit because now he knows what the hug is for and what he's supposed to feel from it. Its very kind of Nick to worry but its unnecessary and he says so. He has colleagues he's friendly with and people from law school he keeps in touch with, he's alright. And Nick says he knows but he also knows it's difficult living the way they do, and what he means is single and in your thirties. Because everyone else is getting married or living with a long term partner or at the very least dating and their lives are focused on that relationship as the center of their being. And when you don't have that, not only is it harder to relate to the people around you but it is harder to feel like you matter in people's lives, because they all prioritize their partner before their friends. And maybe their situations aren't exactly the same (Nick has a daughter while Edgeworth lives alone) and maybe their choices were made for different reasons (Nick used to date and didn't mind it but didn't see a need to prioritize it. Edgeworth found himself unable to distinguish with certainty whether or not he was actually romantically interested in people, and rather than make the wrong choice he decided he would rule out error by choosing no one at all). But regardless, they both know first hand the isolation that comes with trying to carve a path for themselves that does not include a life partner in a world where everyone else comes in pairs. And Nick is reaching out across that emptiness saying hey, we might both be building different lives, but there's room for you to be a part of mine if you want.

Outloud, Nick says "Really, Miles. You aren't alone in this." and Edgeworth says "Well, Phoenix, neither are you". And he stands there and lets his friend hug him, and it doesn't feel like butterflies but it does feel solid and warm and good. And he doesn't even worry about whether he's supposed to let go by now or not, because it's nice, not being alone.

They stand there in comfortable silence for a long moment before Nick speaks again. "hey, remember when you used to hate me? And look at us now." Edgeworth turns his head sharply. "I never HATED you, Wright. I simply thought you were foolish and a waste of my time." He realizes a little too late that this is probably a rude thing to say to the person that just gave you a pep talk, but Nick just laughs, his head still resting on Edgeworth's shoulder. Looking at him from this angle, face almost fully hidden, Nick could be any age at all. It's easy to imagine for a moment that he's the same nervous version of himself that stood across from him in the courtroom for the first time all those years ago. The only thing breaking the illusion is the subtle streaks of silver that cross his temples. Not entirely sure why he does it, Edgeworth kisses the top of Nick's head. He feels odd about it the moment he does so, realizing it comes across not as a platonic or romantic action but as a gesture suited for a dog or pet of some kind. Nick looks up, looking confused but not displeased. "What was that for?" "It was a thank you I suppose". Miles steps away now, still uncomfortable with perceived failures even if those failures are just in social interactions, and begins to gather his things while Nick gets down a tupperware from a cabinet. "Thank you, for the dinner and for the paintings." Edgeworth continues. "I'd like to repay the favor once I get settled into the new house. Trucy's invited too, of course". As he says it, he realizes he genuinely is looking forward to seeing them again. Nick walks him to the apartment door and they say their goodbyes while Edgeworth tucks the paintings (and Trucy's dolphin drawing) under his arm.

He gets halfway down the hallway when he hears Nick calling after him. "Hey! Miles! Take an art class with me sometime" Newfound friendship or not, Edgeworth just looks at him in disdain. "what, so you can show off your superior art skills? No thank you, Wright" "No, for fun. You can make things of your own to hang on your walls. We can do something I've never done before so we're evenly matched. Like printmaking? Origami? Um, pottery?" Edgeworth bristles at the suggestions but takes a moment to acknowledge why he's feeling that way; again, it's that fear of failure. But he's enjoyed himself today and deep down he thinks it could be fun to try something new, not with the goal of being perfect at it but with the goal of spending time together. Nick surprised him today. Maybe he can surprise himself. "... I would consider pottery" Edgeworth admits. And Nick looks really happy about it. "Great. I'll book us a session then. It'll be fun, you'll see. Edgeworth shakes his head, but there's no malice behind it. "Have a good night, Phoenix" "You too. Get home safe Miles".

Edgeworth gets home a little before midnight and props the three canvases against the moving boxes still stacked up in the foyer. Tomorrow, he'll figure out where he wants to hang them. Right now though, he walks over to the bare fridge and carefully pins up Tracy's dolphin drawing. There's a lot more work to do, but it's already starting to feel like home.

[possessionisamyth]

Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of

"I wanted him to replace me."

Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.

Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.

Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.

But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.

So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.

He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.

It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.

[emeryhall]

for @wolfstarmicrofic: prompt #22, Azkaban also for @r33sespieces: my #1 wolfstar cheerleader rating: M word count: 1460 (sorry!)

The North Sea feeds into the Thames, and Padfoot—aka Sirius Black—is too exhausted to do much besides, well, doggy paddle. Float, paddle, float, paddle. He passes the Tower of London and shivers at the thought of imprisonment, or perhaps just the bitter cold water that’s bled through his mangy fur and into his barely covered bones. Under London Bridge, which still hasn’t fallen, even after his twelve years of absence. He doesn’t clamber out of the river until he sees Big Ben. Then he locates a cluster of tourists and gives himself a good shake, flinging wet-dog-river-once-used-as-London’s-sewer-system water onto them, before transforming back into a skinny, tattoo-encrusted naked man who cocks an eyebrow at the oldest tourist who faints dead away. He snorts, flips the V to the rest of the crew, and sets off to find clothes. 

He lands in some muggle used clothing store where all the garments are organized by color, the reds being nearest the door, so he snags a couple of red items and yanks the trousers over his skinny hips before the other customers can get too hung up on his dick which is definitely hung if not up. Weirdly, the red jeans he’s grabbed button up the flies instead of zip, so he buttons away trying not to snag his pubes. He should steal some pants next. The top is apparently a red sweater vest. It’s not a good look, but he’s not in a position to be picky. 

“Hey! Mister! You gonna pay for those?” some minimum wage brat demands. 

Sirius considers. He’s got no money, no wand, no pants, no shoes, no friends (as far as he knows). What he does have is fucking dead-ass eyes and a brain full of nightmares and revenge fantasies. 

“How about, rather than pay for these, I promise not to pull off every single one of your fingers and feed them to your arsehole?” His voice comes out strange—scratchy, barely a whisper—which turns out to be more effective than a shout in this situation. 

The kid nearly pisses himself and Sirius walks out of the shop looking like a cherry lollipop. 

Next up is food. There are rats to be had everywhere, scurrying about the London streets, but he walks down Haymarket until it turns into Regent and finds a chippy. (He’s not in the mood for rats. Not just yet, that is.) He orders chips with cheese and a slice of pizza on top and tells the kid behind the counter that if you break a rat’s spine you can spatchcock it just like a chicken. Then he laughs because rats don’t have spines. He’s not sure if it’s the laugh that does it or the spine comment, but the kid doesn’t bother asking for money—just looks like he’s trying not to breathe through his nose, which, fair enough. Sirius smells like arse. 

He leans against the wall of a building in Soho and licks pizza grease off his fingers, licks down his arm where it dribbled, and pays no attention to the posh bloke in khaki trousers and a pocket tee standing next to him until the man holds a lighter to a fag, inhales, and says in a waft of delicious smoke, “What’s your sign?” 

“Go fuck yourself. But give me one of those ciggies first.” 

The man is not put off. Instead, he scans Sirius from his grungy bare feet to his tangled hair, taking in the button flies, sweater vest, and neck tats. Sirius tugs at a belt loop where his hip bones jut above the waistband. 

“How’d you like to make some money?” The man’s accent is sharp. American. 

“How’d you like to fuck yourself?” But Sirius considers. Money could be useful. He’s gotta get to Hogwarts, after all. 

“Ah, if only I were that flexible.” 

Sirius snorts. “I’m not a charity case.” 

“Never said you were. You’d have to earn it.” 

What’s this guy want? His dick sucked? Sirius could probably manage that. It’s been over a decade but the dementors couldn’t have sucked—ha!—that knowledge entirely out of him. Must be like riding a bike. 

“How much?” Sirius asks. 

The man eyes him. “I could make you rich.” 

“From blowjobs? No thanks. I just need to get to Hogwarts.” 

Now the man looks puzzled. “I’m talking about your dreams.” 

“My dreams?” 

“What are your wildest dreams?” 

Sirius is a simple man, or at least he’s become one, so he ticks his dreams off on his fingers. Doesn’t even require a whole hand. 

revenge

Remus

a cigarette

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it.” 

“Well, I can help you with all three.” 

“You can help me find Remus?” 

“When I’m done, Remus will come to you. I’m assuming Remus is a person.” 

“Remus is a person.” 

“And revenge?” 

“Revenge takes money. I’ve already promised you that.” 

“The cigarette?” 

“You smoke?” 

“Quit twelve years ago.” 

“You sure you want to start back up?” But the man pulls a fag from his pack and hands it to Sirius. Even lights it for him. “So, should I get you a contract?” 

“For what?” The first sip of cigarette burns his insides. Cleans him out. Phoenix rising from the ashes and all that. (The metaphor matches his outfit.) 

“Modeling.” 

Sirius laughs so hard he chokes (although that may be the cigarette). The laughter feels good. It’s been a long, long while. “Sorry, did you say modeling?” 

“I did.” 

“Modeling, like Jerry Hall.” 

“Mick Jagger’s wife? Well, yes. Or Cindy Crawford.” 

“Who?” 

The American raises an eyebrow. “Have you been living under a rock?” 

“On, under. Something like that.” 

“Cindy Crawford.” The man points with his cigarette at a newsagents on the corner—racks of glossy magazines on display. 

Sirius squints. “What am I looking at?” 

“Far right. Rolling Stone cover.” 

There’s a bird with big hair and bigger tits on a beach, pink leopard print fabric fwapping about her. 

“You want me to do that?” Sirius glances down. His stomach is so concave you could serve ice cream in it. 

Khaki trousers laughs and fluffs some of his greying hair. “Not at all. I want you to be the opposite of that. I want you to be the face of my new fragrance.” 

Sirius doesn’t even have to lift an arm to smell himself. “Not sure that’s a good idea, mate.” 

“Oh, it is. Your look is perfect. Skinny, strung out, haunted eyes, gender uncertain, those tattoos that look like they’ve been done with a ballpoint pen and knitting needle. We’ll wash your hair a bit but leave it the same length.” 

The man touches Sirius’s hair. His finger gets caught in a gnarl and he has to tug it out. 

“Problem is Mr.…” Sirius waits for the man to fill in the blank. 

“Klein.” 

“Problem is Mr. Klein.” 

“Call me Calvin.” 

“Problem is Mr. Calvin Klein, I’m a wanted criminal. Convicted felon. Just escaped prison. You put me on a magazine cover like that broad”—he gestures with his cigarette towards the newsagents and the bird with the big, smooshed tits—“and you’ll have the whole Wizengamot down on the both of us, and I can’t have that. I’ve got a rat to track down and—” Sirius makes a slitting motion across his throat. 

Mr. Calvin Klein considers him. “I take it you’ve been wronged.” 

“Completely.” 

“Convicted felon but innocent man?” 

“That’s right.” 

“You’re a real life The Fugitive.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Harrison Ford.” 

“Like Han Solo?” 

“Never mind. And I take it the rat’s a snitch?” 

“And not a golden one either, if you know what I mean.” 

Calvin clearly doesn’t know what Sirius means. 

“Then we’ll have to make you too big to fail.” 

“Sorry?” 

“There are two ways to avoid re-imprisonment. One: below the radar. Sneak about. Avoid detection. I imagine that’s what you’re aiming for, but trust me, dressed like that, you’ve already failed. Option two, and the one I’m proposing: I’m going to make you so famous they can’t arrest you. See Cindy Crawford over there? You can’t arrest Cindy. There would be public outrage if you jailed Cindy.” 

Sirius must look skeptical because Calvin goes for another analogy. “How about Brad Pitt? You can’t imprison Brad Pitt.” 

“Who?” 

“Patrick Swayze?” 

Sirius shakes his head. 

“Burt Reynolds?” 

“Smokey and the Bandit?” 

“There you go. Now imagine imprisoning Burt Reynolds.” 

Pffff. “Please. You can’t lock up that ’stache.” 

“Exactly. We’ll make this—” Calvin waves his hands all up and down Sirius’s ‘look’—“so known, there’ll be mob justice if anyone comes for you.” 

“You can do that?” 

“I’m Calvin Klein and this is 1993.” 

“Is it now?” Sirius ashes the cigarette onto his bare foot. Cracks his toes on the pavement. “Where do I sign?”

Hi, Reese! One day I want to gift you a full-length wolfstar, but in the meantime, have this ficlet as a thank you for always supporting my weird-ass wolfstar ideas ❤️

Was this story inspired by the thought that Sirius escaped Azkaban in the mid-90s looking like the epitome of heroin chic? Yes, it was.

[dilfartist]

Perhaps yandere Chilchuck from Dungeon Meshi headcannons?

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere tendencies, manipulative actions, Yandere, Obsesion.

Notes; {I used some lines from the media I posted before so you might see some lines you’ve already read.}

Reader description; Female/GN

Semi-Proofread

When Chilchuck first recognizes his feelings towards his darling he’s quick to separate himself from them. Not only because he acknowledges these thoughts of keeping a human to himself is not normal but also because he can’t help but run away from a potential relationship. Chilchuck is still struggling from his divorce and the last thing he needs is a new one with the possibility of disappointing his darling as well. His obsession starts slowly because he distances himself.

Chilchuck detests the fact he often has dreams of you or the fact he remembers your favorite foods. He especially hates it when he gets a foreign fuzzy feeling in his chest when it comes to you. He’s often rude and closed off to his darling. He comes off meaner to his darling than anyone else. It has gotten to the point the others often call him out on his behavior which he’d scoff and walk off in turn.

It won’t be until he reveals his divorce to the party that he realizes that trying to have a relationship again isn’t that bad of an idea. Knowing that not everyone will leave him and he can learn to be a better partner, Chilchuck opens himself to being romantic with his darling. He grows to love his darling so dearly. He often writes to his daughters about his darling.

What type of yandere is he? Lucid, possessive, and protective.

Chilchuck won’t let his thoughts or tendencies surface until he and his darling get serious. He’ll be protective of them at times and he’ll get easily jealous when others take their time from him, but he won’t become a yandere unless there's a romantic relationship built.

Once the relationship grows serious, Chilchuck can’t help but monitor his darling. What if they leave him too? He never expected his wife before to leave him, but she did, so he’ll keep a close eye on his darling, and when he notices a change in them he’s quick to please them. Although he’s finally going through the process of learning to forgive himself for his divorce, he’s still paranoid. If you show any signs of leaving him, he’ll become uncharacteristically clingy. If his darling attempts to leave him then he’ll allow himself to act on his yandere tendencies.

Chilchuck can be manipulative if he feels the need to, and he does just that when his darling thinks it’s time to go their separate ways. “You said you’d never leave me. What happened to that? Is it me? Fine, go ahead, I don’t mind being alone.”

If his manipulation wasn’t enough to force you to stay then he’ll force you by his side. You might think, he’s small theres no way he’d force me to stay by him, then good luck because that isn’t happening. Besides Chilchuck’s small size, he’s incredibly smart when it comes to dire situations. Such as you leaving.

Chilchuck kidnaps you. He doesn't call it kidnapping, he calls it making you come to your senses. Forbids the party from entering his home and if they end up stumbling upon you, he convinces them you’ve been hit with a spell and he’s caring for you in your delicate state.

Won’t force you to stop adventuring. Aside from leaving him, Chilchuck doesn’t mind you making your own decisions. However, Chilchuck needs to be by your side the whole time.

Trust his party members around you, maybe not senshi as much...

What can he say, Senshi is a handsome guy. He can’t help but be a bit protective around Senshi lest you fall for the charming dwarf.

[grubus]

is there any "what ifs" that you would explore with syonr? like when it's finished, would you write aus of the aus? i've seen some writers do that and i find it so interesting.

yes and no! I have a lot of "what ifs" ideas in my head, but I think there's only one I would ACTUALLY write out? But because I too love aus of aus, let me list a few of them uwu

*clears throat*

What if Shen Yuan had never left Lady Jia? This is the idea I want to write at some point! Would still be BingYuan, with some intense gender fuckery going on <_<

Some others are;

What if Shen Yuan reincarnated as a girl? if you think SQQ is overprotective now, you have seen NOTHING. Binghe would be fighting for his goddamn life. SY would fight for her own dignity, because OBVIOUSLY she has to become a WIFE, but SQQ is weird as fuck about Sweet Girls Under His Protection and the only reason LBH isn't already dead is because SY is frantically wielding her "i'm your widdle baby girl!" powers at SQQ to shield him. There would be no roomie situation. RIP. But NYY would be hyped about having a sister! And SY wouldn't have any trauma from Zhao De, because MF would be like !!!!!!!!!!!! DONT BULLY A GIRL!!!!!!!! which means Zhao De sticks around and focuses his bullying on MF instead. Lovingly. If you guys haven't read "Toxic" by Prim the Amazing yet, well..............

What if Yue Qingyuan managed to take Shen Yuan? This would basically just be PIWD. SQQ would not take it nicely at all, seeing his Qi-ge taking in a mini-SJ and spoiling him rotten. SY would NOT be allowed on Qing Jing at all, but SY is also Binghe-obsessed and Binghe is in turn SY-obsessed. The only reason SQQ would not abuse SY out of pure jealousy and self-hatred is because SY isn't under his control. YQY would be an adoring fool but also SY would probably not feel 100% safe considering he knows that YQY always yields to SQQ in canon... On top of that, SQQ would most likely treat Binghe much like he did in PIWD. There are perhaps a FEW things that would, maybe, make him treat Binghe better out of pure spite but it would take many twists and turns for that. In the end, BingYuan in this would be Romeo and Juliet romance that would end in insane tragedy for all involved and CQM in flames. Unless Binghe manages to run off to Bai Zhan Peak. A big If.

What if Shen Yuan had met *** while at Lady Jia? Well SY would have brought *** with him to CQM instead! Or *** would have helped him escape and then years later............... hmm but that's a different arc.

There's more but :D

[rel124c41]

I know he’s only going to be a temporary character, much like Rollo, but in my heart, he’s a transfer student who is assigned to Ramshackle so we can dance among the graves there and I can giggle and kiss him all I want.

Also if I was in TWST and was walking around and saw him, I’d be so smitten IMMEDIATELY!!!!! Like Vil would immediately hate this guy just because of how fast I’d fall for him and how gorgeous he is and I’d start campaigns on how stunning and sweet he is.

cementary dates!!!!! cementary dates!!!! ( ★^O^★ )

bringing him to dine by the two graves in front of ramshackle, watching grim and zero play with one another. the night ambience of a full moon and ebony darkness,,, him lying his head in your lap as you read edgar allen poe,,, threading fingers through his hair but watching out for the crown piece which is sharp like barb wire,,

perhaps him taking the book from you and reading it himself, all while standing on the crescent stone wall, very melodramatic and rich as he reads ‘the conqueror worm’ aloud,,, aaah i need to know who will voice him (ﾉ∀`♥) i hope the VA has a lovely singing voice it’s only natural

even if he’s not a transfer student …. indulge in this little fantasy,, so u know how jack skellington can take off his head in the film, imagine that with this TWST character. a whole lollipop chainsaw dynamic!!! he’s just so anxious and intrigued to see what this new world has to offer him!!! he’s never been outside of halloween town and this all so very exciting!! won’t you let him just attend a few classes with you!! pls,,, i’m imagining keeping his head in a school bag as his headless body wanders around ramshackle,,

he also has great yandere potential outside of silly fluff scenarios too!! jack skellington is very much gung ho when he gets an idea,, not listening to sally,, dragging the whole town into his scheme through charm and whismy,, his star-eyed gojo ass clone suddenly seeing you in TWST and becoming obsessed with you!!! it’s only natural that halloween town has a queen right next to their pumpkin king, soon you’ll have the whole town just begging you to stay with them!!

AAAAA Vil would be so annoyed with me!! i would be as bad as Rook, waxing poetry nonstop about this nameless pumpkin king!!! he seems like the sweetest and silliest guy!! 🖤🖤

i literally have so many thoughts about him and WE DONT EVEN KNOW HIS NAME!!!! 💀

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @miya-akane request: To celebrate me getting kaveh, can you write an oneshot bout kaveh with fem s/o that would gush over his beauty everytime and everywhere to anyone (basically a simp) cause i love how pretty he is

Perhaps even showing off like 'i have the prettiest boyfriend in the whole world and you cannot argue with that' and etc

-🌹

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ OMG CONGRATS IN GETTING HIM!!

Also YESSS hihihi I swear I had so much fun writing it >w< So hopefully you'll like it too!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

It was a normal day at first... you were just getting your work done around Sumeru city when you noticed your boyfriend arguing with his roommate. Kaveh seemed to be a bit irritates as he walked away, so you made it your mission to catch up to him!

"Kaveh!! Wait a second!"

You ran after him yelling throguh whole city, some people even turned to look at you two... And so did your blonde boy~ He was a bit shocked to hear you though...

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

He stopped in his tracks to look at you and wait patiently for you to come over.

"Oh I was just out running some errands~"

You chirped and quickly threw your hands at him as soon as you came closer to him. Hugging him closely, not hiding how much you missed him.

"Have I told you before how pretty you are~?"

You began again as you looked up at him admiringly. He was so pretty after all! His face was so perfect... his hair was soft... and gosh, those mesmerizing eyes!

"Hehe~ I believe it was yesterday~"

He answered your question, reminding you how you spent whole hour yesterday spoiling him with compliments because you had to go different ways, since it was already midnight...

"One day too long!"

Quickly excusing yourself, you leaned in to plant a few kisses on his cheeks, keeping your hands at the back of his head to keep him even closer. Your voice was filled with sweetness and love too~ And he could sense it!

"You're just so... ADORABLE!! Your cheeks are so soft... and I could play with your hair for decades!"

He on the other hand quickly got flustered despite preparing himself mentally not long ago for what's about to come. His cheeks got slightly more pink and he had problem keeping his hands steadily around you when he was actually melting right now...!!

His hands were still at your sides but he was holding you so gently that you wouldn't have slightest trouble pulling away if you wanted. He tried his best to appear calm since you were in public, but he was doing a horrible job so far... And of course, you noticed it.

"Awwwh~ Look at you! Your cheeks are even cuter now!!"

You poked his cheeks as you pointed out the blush he was having on his face, which only made it deepen.

"Y/N... everyone's looking at us..."

"So? Everyone would agree you're so pretty anyway!"

"Yes but- can we please move it to somewhere private?"

He asked seemingly begging fate to let you agree to move it anywhere else than middle on the city, as you are now. And it seemed to listen to him for once!

"Sure~ My place?"

"Sounds perfect."

He quickly agreed to your offer despite the fact he was supposed to buy some resources for his new architecture project... Right now, he only wanted to move this little scene somewhere more cornered so both his reputation wouldn't get hurt and so he could enjoy your attention only to himself~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your architect beuty~

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Question: since Eowyn and Eomer have the same parents (read: Eomund’s hothead genes), do you believe Eowyn would be just as hotheaded as her brother if she were a man? As a lady, there were different expectations of her, so perhaps that’s why we don’t get to see much of that hotheadedness?

Ooh, thinking about what someone with Éowyn’s personality but who was born into the opportunities and freedoms that men had is a really interesting exercise! Thanks for asking! ❤️

I do believe Éowyn had those same hothead genes, and I actually think that we can already see them in her in the canonical story. She doesn’t have all the same opportunity as a man to show it, but she does repeatedly act impulsively and decisively; is very brave and heedless of danger; is very consumed with realizing her own goals to the exclusion of other considerations, etc. — all characteristics that are definitely hothead-adjacent.

When Aragorn unexpectedly appears in Rohan, representing everything that Éowyn wants to be and do and achieve, she wastes very little time before she is literally begging him to take her away with him. She’s immediately willing to throw overboard almost everything about her life to date to follow a man she barely knows into a situation that she doesn’t fully understand. That’s not exactly careful, rational decision making (even if we, as readers, don’t disagree with her choice!). We also famously see her boldly defy the orders of her father figure and king by sneaking into battle on her own — and with an unauthorized hobbit in tow! — not because she made a reasoned calculation about what was best for Rohan or Théoden or herself but simply because she was so singularly focused on her own goal. So again, even if we are entirely sympathetic to that decision and in retrospect know that it was the right one, that’s got some clear hothead vibes that go with it. 

She also repeatedly courts death, mouths off to the Witch King himself (“be gone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion!”) and laughs in his face, demands to be put back into battle as soon as she’s awake again in the houses of healing even though she doesn’t know anything about how conditions have changed since her injury, and is a little bristle-y with Faramir in some of their early interactions, jumping to her own conclusions about what he thinks and means when he speaks to her. All of that feels consistent to me with someone who is quick to their emotions, recklessly brave, and willing to act without sitting around to carefully analyze a situation first. She even talks about herself as being ungentle and a wild woman that others might seek to tame, which suggests to me that she also saw herself as embodying many of those same hotheads traits — bold, unconventional, potentially dangerous, etc. 

So I think she and Éomer both show some signs of hotheadedness throughout the story, and I think they show that a little hotheadedness isn’t always a bad thing! Éomund just had way too much of it and was impervious to being curbed, whereas Éomer takes advice when it’s given and Éowyn comes to see that acting with more deliberateness (as Faramir does) isn’t a bad thing either.

But all that leaves open to question whether Éowyn would have been an even bigger hothead if she had been a man. I see two possibilities there. Either her personality would have been exactly the same but the effect of her actions and behavior would have been magnified (making Lord Éowyn SEEM like a bigger hothead than Lady Éowyn) because a male version of her would have had more opportunities to follow his impulses and cause a ruckus. OR, perhaps some of her instincts would have actually been dampened a little bit by the additional freedoms of life as a man — without some of the (entirely justified!!!) resentment and frustrations that Lady Éowyn felt, perhaps Lord Éowyn would have been a bit mellower. I’m inclined toward a middle ground — some of the latter, but with the clear stipulation that even then Lord Éowyn was NEVER going to be an entirely cool, collected cucumber because that’s just not his core personality or how this family works! 

All my own 2 cents of course. I’d be very curious to hear others’ thoughts as well! 

[notmoreflippingelves]

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen? 

[whumpshaped]

i love. all powerful whumpers. i know i talk about this a lot but i just really absolutely love when a whumper controls every aspect of whumpee's life. not even as a human, but more as a god. a being so far above whumpee that they genuinely have no chance of fighting back.

maybe whumper literally created whumpee, and is now playing with them like a puppet. and whumpee is forced to bump into the invisible walls of their confined world over and over again, realising again and again that they can only ever go as far as whumper allows.

and maybe... sometimes... whumpee thinks they have outwitted whumper. they find a little loophole, a glitch in the matrix, a tear in the fabric of their artificial reality. they take the opportunity immediately, thinking they're about to be free... only to end up as a pawn in whumper's game yet again. the opening was put there on purpose, specifically for whumpee to find. and where it led was entirely controlled. and whumper enjoyed every second of this delightful little show of whumpee feeling some hope, only for it to be violently ripped away.

again.