#wow tailoring

[warcraft-guru]

WotLK Classic tailoring shop.

[cozylittleartblog]

i now understand how certain people felt when harpy eda was revealed 😳

prints here

[mysdrymmumbles]

Okay, so I found a cool little minigame that gave tailoring knowledge over in the Academy area, where you adjust different color threads to make patterns. 

Does anyone know if there are more than one of those? Or if the one resets after a week or so? 

[mako-neexu]

love how this is her first coherent thought after a few seconds of shock to who is the mastermind of this all like "no way....... gankutsuou...? whats with that outfit..."

[kaylor]

Wild that fortnight acoustic is somehow less boring than the original

ok fine i'll listen to it (4 minute pause) okay so i think this version doesn't tease you with a drop that's never going to come so it's just a little soft vibe throughout rather than baiting you into thinking there's going to be some kind of climactic finish. but ultimately it still suffers from the production and vocals being divorced from each other and not complementing each other so it's just her singing over a backing track again i guess 👍

[starlitangels]

Hand-to-Hand

Have some Albus and Faithful! Shoutout to @vampirelladarkness for the idea! Let’s say this takes place between Recovering and Unveiling True Honor, yeah? Cool? Sure? Great. 2.5k words (on the button!)

Disclaimer: I’ve done some training. It’s been a while since I did any sort of training. Some of the following information might be a little or a lot, I don’t know inaccurate.

—

Bang-bang-bang!

“Up and at ‘em, faithful!” Albus barked through the closed door. I jolted awake and practically fell out of my bunk from the motion. I groaned in protest and sat up properly.

“What do you want? I just went to sleep!” I complained, sliding out of my covers and pulling my long overcoat on over my nightdress. Rubbing sleep out of my eyes, I yanked the door open.

“Whoa. The bedhead!” Albus exclaimed sarcastically. But he was smiling like he’d just discovered the most delicious secret to hold over my head.

I scowled. “Shut up. What do you want?”

“Which one do you want?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want me to shut up or tell you what I want?”

I scoffed so hard I hurt my throat and rolled my eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” I grumbled, moving to lean back and slam my door shut.

Albus planted a hand on the door, holding it open before I could swing it shut. “No. No-no. You’re not going back to bed, princess,” he snapped. It had been a while since he called me that, and I glowered accordingly. “We have lapsed on your training. It’s time to fix that.” He gave me a smirk. That condescending one that pissed me off.

“I didn’t agree to training in the first place.”

“Too bad. Mission like this? You’re gonna need it. Come on. Get dressed and let’s go.” He took his hand off my door and folded his arms. His eyes swept me up and down, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Come on.”

“I’m not changing while you watch, moron,” I snapped before slamming the door in his face and locking it.

“Oh, come on!” he joked through it while I pulled my coat off and looked through the bag I brought to get off-world for a new set of clothes. “Might be fun!”

“Decidedly not,” I retorted as I changed from my nightdress to a new set of clothes. I fixed my bedhead and pulled the door open again. “Better?”

Albus narrowed his eyes, but I saw playful teasing in the way they twinkled. “Dunno. Training might be more effective if you just don’t wear anything—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I snapped, storming out of my room and stalking past him. I had no idea where he intended to “train,” so I took the familiar path to the bridge. Where, no doubt, Devlin would be tinkering away at something. I didn’t bother to check if Albus was following me or not.

“Oh come on, faithful, it was just a joke—” Albus complained before falling out of earshot as I turned a corner.

I went to the bridge and waved a greeting. “Morning, Devlin.”

“Good morning, sister. I trust you slept well?”

“As well as can be expected. If we survive this whole thing I’m gonna be so exhausted that I’ll pass out and sleep for like a full day straight,” I said.

“Mm. Perhaps,” Devlin said.

Albus stomped onto the bridge behind me. “Come on, faithful. Training time. Now,” he said.

Devlin raised a brow and looked between his brother and me. “Training?”

Albus beamed—sort of. It was more of a self-important smile. “Yeah. I’m teaching her to defend herself. This is a dangerous mission. At the very least the basics are useful.”

Devlin continued to look skeptical as his eyes held mine. “And... you’re alright with this, sister?”

I blinked a few times, trying to decide how to answer that. If I outright stated that Albus wasn’t giving me much choice, Devlin would pick a fight with Albus and they’d get into another argument. Which I didn’t want. I also didn’t particularly want to train with Albus this early after not sleeping much, but had to admit he was right that knowing a little more could be useful.

“I’m alright with it,” I decided.

“See? She’s fine,” Albus said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Ask nicely,” I snapped.

“Seriously?” he complained.

I raised my eyebrows, arms folded. Waiting.

He sighed. “Please?”

“There. Yes. Lead the way.”

Albus made a show of rolling his eyes before tromping off the bridge. I gave a brief wave to Devlin. “Good luck,” he said. “And, Albus!”

“What?”

“Mind your manners!”

A loud scoff was the only reply Albus gave. I followed him off the bridge.

He led me to a large, open area. What I imagined was probably a mess hall or otherwise common area when a ship like this was adequately staffed and furnished. He dropped his sword belt, blade included, to the ground and stretched. I eyed where he left his weapon skeptically. He’d given me a stick and used his sword the last time we did this. Why was he disregarding his weapon now?

I copied his stretches as best I could. “Why did you put your sword down?” I asked carefully.

“Because I’m not going to use it,” he said.

“Why? What are we training with, then?”

“Our hands.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Albus scoffed. “The day you beg is the day Hell freezes over,” he muttered. Louder, he continued, “It’s called hand-to-hand combat. Not my favorite way to fight but when you don’t have any weapons on you or easily in reach, it’s good to know.” His eyes swept me up and down. “Balance of probability is that you’re going to be smaller and lighter than anyone you go up against. I don’t know how to teach you to leverage that, but the more you can throw your opponent off balance or off his footing, the better off you’ll be.”

He finished stretching and took a step back, twisting so we were facing each other head-on. He spread his arms.

“Go on. Try to hit me. I’ll give you one freebie.”

I glared and balled my fists.

“No. No. Bad,” Albus said.

“What?” I demanded.

“You leave your thumb on the side of your hand like that and you’ll shatter the bone on impact.” He stepped closer and held both hands out toward one of mine. Reluctantly, I placed my fist in his hands. His hands were ridiculously warm—callused and rough. But gentler than I expected. He took my thumb and guided it in front of all my fingers. “Keep your fist like that. But don’t wrap your fingers around it or you’ll break it. Make sure your thumb stays on the outside and in front of your fingers, not to the side, got it?”

I nodded. “Got it.”

“Okay. Now. When you hit, make sure to strike with these two knuckles.” He tapped my forefinger and middle finger knuckles. “Because if you hit with these two—” His tapped my ring finger and pinky knuckles. “You will break them. Following so far?”

“Yup.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat and let go of my hands. “One thing to know, a punch is still going to hurt like hell. But if you do it right, you won’t break anything. A broken hand is no good to you in a fight.” He stepped back to square up opposite me again. “Try to hit me.” He inspected my fists again. “Go on. Give me your best shot.”

I swung.

He ducked out of the way, laughing. “Well, apart from the fact that you telegraphed your intentions about two weeks in advance for me to dodge, you had the power behind the swing. That’s something,” he remarked. “What you just did is called a haymaker. It has its uses but it’s too easy to dodge. Try this.”

He pivoted and stood beside me so we were facing the same direction. “Bring your elbows in more. Keep your fists up close to shoulder-level. And hit like this.” His fist lashed out and he brought it back quickly. “Let me show you that slow, yeah?” He made the same motions. “Now, see how I’m rotating my fist so my palm is facing downward as I punch outward? That’s to pack more strength behind the strike. If you keep your fist facing the wall like this—” He repeated the motion but didn’t twist his arm as he pushed out. “—you can’t equip the power of your shoulder, chest, and back muscles into the hit as easily. Give it a try.”

I did. Slow at first, and then another attempt moving much faster.

“Not bad. Bring your arm back faster, if you can. Don’t underestimate how much extra damage you can do with a decent recoil. It’s all force and energy transfer.” 

I nodded and tried again.

“Thatta girl! That was good!”

I blinked. Praise from Albus was... beyond rare. Practically nonexistent, actually.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Next thing. Your elbow is the hardest, strongest striking point on your body. If you’re close enough to someone to hit them with your elbow: do it. If someone grabs you from behind, hit backwards with your elbow into their torso as hard as you can.” He demonstrated the movement as he talked about it.

“Okay.”

“And when you aim—punch or elbow—you want to aim beyond the person’s body. You’ll hit harder. But you still want that recoil. Driving your elbow too deep and too slow won’t do as much damage.”

“Right.” I supposed that made sense in some way.

Albus rotated so we were standing opposite each other again. “Try to hit me, faithful.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and went back to the stance he’d showed me. I glanced at my fist to make sure it looked right, the way he’d showed me. Then met his eyes. His expression was expectant but otherwise unreadable.

“Bend your knees,” he said. “Standing lock-kneed makes it easier to give you one shove and topple you right over.”

I bent my knees and lashed out immediately after.

Albus caught my fist. “Not bad. I did forget to mention that you need to rotate your hips as you make the punch to keep the movement flowing. That one is on me. Let me show you and then try again.” He showed me the movement, this time pointing out the way his legs twisted to rotate his hips before letting me have another go at it. I tried it. “Better. Now try and hit me again.”

I hurled the punch.

And hit Albus right in the chest. The breath knocked out of him with an, “Oof!” and he stumbled a few steps back.

For a moment, he coughed and wheezed to get his breath back. “Helluva punch, faithful. That was good.” His voice was raspy. “I should have mentioned the chest was a decent target if you hit hard enough.” He coughed. “And damn I think you did.”

I smirked. “Well, like you said the first time you tried training me, I’ve thought about hitting you more than once. Might as well siphon off some of that energy.”

He chuckled—and coughed again.

“So... apart from the chest, where do I hit? Jaw?”

“No. No, no. Bone’s too thick. More likely to break your hand than their face.” He tapped his head. “Temple. Right here. Softer point. Also the eyes. They’re very much a weak, soft point. If you gauge with your fingers at the eyes you will do serious damage. Or you can use the heel of your hand—” He rubbed his thumb over the base of his opposite palm. “—to strike the nose from beneath and shatter it. We’re not going to try that one though. I quite like my nose. But we can practice the movement.”

I snorted. “Fine with me.”

He showed me and I copied a few times. “Make sure you keep your fingers curled back as far as you can so you—”

“Don’t break them on impact.”

“Exactly.”

He kept teaching me, showing me how to combine strikes from both sides and drilling in my head not to kick if I could help it. In certain circumstances it was fine, but normally it would make me lose my balance and fall over.

Then we moved on to dodging for a while.

And then we started trying to spar. But it was a slow, soft practice fight that Albus basically walked and talked me through.

Slowly, we sped up.

Then I started trying to hit him for real again. He was still going softer on me, but wasn’t holding back on his speed.

He got in close—informing me that it was a mistake because my reach was shorter than his and he didn’t have the room to pack as much power behind his swing—and let me jab him with the elbow. Once. To get a feel for it.

After giving him a bit to recover, we went again.

This time when he got in close, his leg lashed around mine and he yanked. Knocking my foot out from under me.

I hit the floor with an, “Oof!”

Albus landed on top of me, nearly bashing our heads together.

For a moment, we stared at each other, breathing hard. Albus’ eyes were darker than I’d ever noticed, and the scars over his nose and at the corner of his right eyebrow glimmered slightly in the artificial light. Both of us were open-mouthed as we panted. I tried my best, but couldn’t stop the brief impulse to let my eyes flicker to his lips—then quickly back to his eyes.

Graciously, I ignored the way his did the same to me.

A door whirred open. “Am I... interrupting?” Devlin sounded horrified.

I shoved at Albus. “Not at all,” I said. “Get. Off!”

“If you insist.” He gave me a flirtatious, suggestive smirk.

“Oh, by the gods—you know what I mean!” I snapped, still shoving.

He snorted and climbed off of me, offering me a hand to help me up. I thought about taking it, then remembered what he’d said the first time. That he’d use it to throw me back down. I swatted his hand away and pushed to my feet on my own.

“What’s going on, Devlin?” I asked.

“You two have been gone a while. I was getting worried,” he said, holding my gaze.

“We’re fine. Just training,” Albus said. Devlin shot him a look.

“Well, if you’re quite done, we still have work to do if we want to make it to Brother Koria on time. We’re coming up on an area that’s going to be hard to navigate. I’m going to need help.”

“Fine.” Albus stooped and snatched up his sword and its belt. “Let’s go.”

I followed Devlin out of the room back toward the bridge with Albus bringing up the rear.

I fell into step beside him. “That was... informational,” I said.

“Not fun?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

He snorted again. “There she is,” he said. “Never without that sharp tongue, are you?”

“Nope.” We kept walking. I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment. “Thank you.”

He cleared his throat, buckling his sword belt back on. “Uh... sure,” he said. Then he cleared his throat again, louder. “Hey Vinny, what’s this about a place that’s hard to navigate?”

—

Tagging my GB fan peeps who might enjoy: @palilious @gwenifred @ryn-halo26 @dollscircus @halscafe @miloeveryday38 @zozo-01 if anyone else wants to be tagged in GBA fics, let me know. Tag list is always open

[discow1tch]

My potentially hot star wars take is that Luke isn't really all that fashionable but people think he is because he gets his clothes tailored

[dottores]

Wtf did you put on my timeline 😀

Since the history of Y/N stories, the reader ALWAYS had a backstory. I fail to see how this suddenly makes Y/N a OC. The same goes for gender. Usually in the description or first sentence you would immediately know Y/N’s gender. It’s nice to be inclusive but you can’t force the author to cater to a specific demographic.

I will admit though: I LOATHE when a author enforces a skintone onto Y/N without mentioning it in the beginning. The fact this stuff is rarely tag is pretty annoying. If authors have to tag their fanfic with “POC!Reader” to point out that reader is meant to have a ethnic background, for the love of god please do the same if the reader is meant to be interpreted as white. Nothing puts me out of a story when I envisioned a character to fit the story only to see them described as “pale, fair skinned” by the narrator several paragraphs later.

There is a really nice plugin for AO3 where it can replace pronouns and fill in the Y/N slot with an actual name. It would be nice if such a plugin existed for tumblr. Authors won’t have to give into obligations and those who feel alienated can still enjoy the work.

PLEASEEEEEE AJFHASIUDFHU IF I HAD TO SEE IT YOU GUYS ALL HAVE TO TOO. i am a firm believer of sharing is caring <3

EXACTLY, like especially for authors who do long fics or series, giving reader 0 personality/no background story is next to impossible unless you just want them to like ... be there and take no initiative in the story and just have things happen to them and for them to have no reaction to anything. like even in smut and headcanons, there are going to be little things you can pick out personality-wise, its next to impossible to just have a cardboard cut out reader for any type of fic, much less long fics/series. someone will always disagree with something <- but tee explained this all better in her long rb addition to that post

AND I TOTALLY AGREE! like they had very valid points about physical appearance and properly tagging gender, but i hate the fact that they added all of those valid points in that mess of an argument of why "x reader fics" should have no personality or background, because i felt as if it was totally taking away from that. it's two totally separate issues that they were trying to combine into one big one but just made an even bigger mess out of it.

for real! ao3's tagging system is top tier like i know a lot of people find it confusing but it's so nice to be able to filter any and everything you want or don't want.

[skitskatdacat63]

The length of the f1 break is getting to me, I've started looking back on old ships, and I feel like a feral dog about them again

[symbiodyke]

really feeling my sanity crumbling as I have to spend more energy than I have all to serve these fucking rich people at fucking galas and fundraisers and hearing them bid over 5000 dollars for the stupidest shit and thinking of how many people that would help nd how everyone I know is struggling to survive and I just can't take it anymore.

why the fuck am I busting my ass so these fucking pieces of shit can raise over 250k for a private catholic school where the tuition is already 40,000 dollars a year. why did I work a 12 hour shift all in the name of fundraising for the fucking opera. why can't these people just quietly write a check instead of getting a huge party with ~prizes~ and ~experiences~ to bid on. and tableside wine service and a 3 course meal and and and.

why don't these fucking husks care about the scores of human lives they could save without breaking a sweat.

why why why!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lollytea]

The amount of POV tiktoks I see making fun of Pick Me/Not Like Other Girls is insane. Like "haha imagine being this desperate for male validation"

*throws together a 20 second skit that is near identical to the thousands of other 20 second skits because mocking these girls is what's trendy right now and you are also desperate for validation of some kind*

[undead-moth]

All that money and all that attention and no one who knows how to dress. 🙄

[serpenlupus]

Illustration work for @/Paladin_Lunalae as a present to @/Pervincka_ Their characters Nidormi and Lunalae, giving the finishing touches to a beautiful outfit!

[spikeisawesome456]

.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I have reached the point of my WIP writing where I'm like "If only they knew my blorbos like I do, they'd love them as much as I do". And then I remember the blorbos exist, for the most part, only in my head so far.

[arosetolivefor]

Thinking about this song again and about how it reminds me of Maura and Eyk, it's so damn sweet