#*fairly decent. not like proper

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

my headcanons on ken sato growing up in "la" are like. i refuse 👍 that man grew up in the fucking suburbs and you can take that headcanon from my dead cold hands

[screamingggoat]

Honestly discovered the best way to learn to fact check: came up to my biology professor today with a tumblr post about octopuses and their nervous system geeking out about some stuff that was written in there and he straight up went "lol girl that's not correct" but you know in that polite high learning establishment way and oh my gooood

[xiaowhore]

equivalent exchange.

DRAFT. this fic is incomplete, as i've stated in this post. this has been sitting in the dungeon for a while, and i have no plans to finish them, but i posted these drafts to not let them go to waste. it is up to you if you still want to read them regardless of their incompletion :) i will be writing my original ideas for the fic at the end so you guys will have an idea of what the fic was supposed to be like.

premise. when ayato stumbles upon a drafted resignation letter on your desk, he doubles his efforts to show you the perquisites of staying by his side.

he doesn't want to lose a competent subordinate. that's all there is to it.

note. what's wrong with secretary kim au but it's definitely not the same because i stopped watching at episode 5 and have no idea what happened. anyways i think we were all expecting a ceo!ayato x secretary!reader fic at some point so here it is. (couldn't keep this gender neutral for plot reasons, so feminine pronouns were used.)

Kamisato Ayato considers himself a good boss.

Or as far as things go, he's a decent one. He treats his employees well, takes them to expensive restaurants for company dinners, and discourages overtime so they can head off early for the night. He doesn't care much for formalities, and he gets along with his colleagues fairly well. He's never heard anyone talk behind his back or complain about his attitude at work, and there aren't any rumors spreading about him (if he turns a blind eye to the conspiratorial gossip guessing his relationship status).

But he does have minor faults. Like showing a more mischievous side when work hours are over. Getting Thoma dead drunk during dinners because his half-conscious inebriated talking is a form of amusement, or riling up Itto in drinking games just because it's funny. Then he leaves Sara to clean up the mess for him, since Yae seems to enjoy the comedy sketch as thoroughly as he does and probably won't lift a finger to help even if he asked her to.

As his assistant, you're prone to falling victim to his shenanigans, silly stunts that coax out aggravated eye rolls and sighs of exasperation. Years of experience eventually shaped you up to be entirely immune to April Fools' pranks.

He's in the middle of planning another one when he spots a letter of resignation on your desk.

At first, he thinks it's your rebellious phase arriving a decade late. He always found it odd how you never retaliated against his tricks, and this may just be the long-awaited April Fools' prank of vengeance. If it is, it's particularly mean of you—Ayato does have feelings, you know? Even he would feel hurt if you told him you wanted to leave! You shouldn't take this kind of thing lightly!

Then he remembers you aren't the type to make jokes, April Fools' or otherwise, and it's that moment when he feels (proper) fear.

“[Name] wants to resign?!”

Ayato makes a zipping motion and Thoma's shrieks immediately die down, but the disbelief on his face has yet to wane. His brows scrunch together, brain hard at work in processing this piece of information, though it seems to short-circuit in utter confusion from the sudden blow.

Scandalized, Thoma lowers his head and levels his voice to a hushed whisper, “Are you sure you saw it correctly?”

“I have able eyes. Unfortunately, my optometrist confirmed my perfect vision and assured I saw it just fine.” Woe is he.

“Get them checked again.”

“No matter how much I check, it won't change the results, Thoma.”

“We don't know that for sure, sir!”

“Trust me,” Ayato deadpans, looking off into the distance, “I checked with him thrice.”

Defeated, Thoma leans back to his chair, crossing his arms while deep in thought. “You saw the letter, but she didn't turn it in, did she?”

“She didn't. No e-mail, either.” Ayato taps the table in a mindless rhythm, expression stern but the shape of his lips almost resembling a pout. “Do you have any idea why she'd want to resign?”

Thoma rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Is that a genuine question, sir?”

Ayato's head snaps back to look at his companion. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“...Everyone in the office knows you... tease her for your own amusement.”

“It's my way of showing affection.” The corners of his lips curl up, stretching to a twisted smile as he rests his cheek on his palm. “Isn't she just so adorable when she gets angry?”

“You really do have a rotten personality.”

Ayato waves his hand in a noncommittal response. “We're straying off topic. What should we do next?”

Thoma hums, closed fist beneath his chin. “Since she hasn't turned in the letter yet, that means she must be hesitating. For what reason, we don't know, but it's keeping her here. So before she makes up her mind, we should dissuade her from quitting no matter what.”

Ayato laces his fingers together, brow in an inquisitive arch. “And we do that by?”

Green eyes sparkle with tenacity, clashing with blue irises twinkling in intrigue. “We bribe her, sir. It's time to show off your good points.”

--

“If a woman quits her job, what do you think her reasons could be?”

Ayaka blinks owlishly at her brother, taken aback by the abrupt question. It's a sudden thing to ask, especially odd given how their conversation hasn't led to that topic at all. “Did someone resign? I haven't heard anything of the sort, though.”

Ayato shakes his head, stirring the boba tea in his hands. “It's a hypothetical.”

Which means it's real.

Ah, whatever. At least he didn't go for the “my friend...” excuse.

Ayaka warily cuts a portion of her cake, scrutinizing each microexpression flashing on Ayato's face. It's one of their weekly lunch meetings, squeezed between hectic schedules, and they more or less have a silent agreement to avoid discussions involving work if they could help it. But this time, he brought it up himself.

How peculiar.

“Perhaps she wants to change workplaces? If she's exemplary, she might have been offered a better position or higher pay.”

Ayato nearly scoffs at the suggestion. The company, old-fashioned as it is, can only be inherited by a direct line of descendants. Outsiders can only go so far, and being the secretary for the chief executive officer isn't bad at all. Last time he checked, he's been paying you generously as well—how many figures was it? Six?

“Oh!” Ayaka exclaims, holding up a finger as she seems to have figured out something. “Or maybe she wants to settle down and get married? If her work is keeping her occupied, she'll most likely take time off to find a husband.”

Ayato proceeds to choke on a tapioca pearl.

“Or she got married and wants to be a housewife-”

“That's quite enough, Ayaka.”

Ayato would rather believe the Earth is flat.

--

If Ayato were any less desperate, perhaps he would have rationalized that putting together “give her what she wants to make her stay” and “she wants to get married” is a bad, bad idea.

Unfortunately for him, he is grasping at straws, so it leaves him no choice. Yes. Definitely. There is no other option than this, obviously.

(He does not delve deeper into the reason why he doesn't want you to leave, nor does he dwell any longer on why he was so quick to think he was fine with getting married if it was to you.)

“Don’t you want to get married soon, Ms. [Surname]?”

To clarify, Ayato does not spy on other people's conversations for a hobby, but he's always had impeccable timing. It comes with the job.

He stands by the door, reaching for the doorknob to the break room, but the mention of your name forces him to a halt.

“Why are you asking me that...?” You awkwardly dodge the question, sipping on your coffee. “I suppose I am at that age, though.”

“So you do want to!” The squeal rings with a note of glee, a stark contrast to Ayato's gradually dimming mood. “Wouldn't it be nice to marry a good man? I'm sure even you have thought of it at some point! Are you seeing anyone, then? Anyone you can imagine yourself marrying?”

“No, not yet.”

Before Ayato can even heave a relieved sigh, you follow with, “But my mother is making me go on dates to see people. Said if I didn't bring home a man soon, she'd come all this way to drag me back by my ear and introduce me to her friend's son.”

“Ah, I get that...” Your friend replies emphatically, nodding. “But those kind of meetings hardly go well. And you can't exactly tell your mother's friend you don't find her son attractive, right?”

“Why not just marry Mr. Kamisato, then?” Another one pipes up, to which Ayato gives a mental salute of appreciation. “You spend most of your time together. If you're not married to your job, then you're practically married to him.”

A cackle sends his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Not a chance.”

Can you at least expound why?!

“Huh? Why not? I mean, Mr. Kamisato is on another realm of existence and I can never hope to be on the same level as him, but you look good together!”

Your face pinches to a tight frown. “Look good together? In what way?”

“When you stand side by side, it just looks... right. And like I've mentioned earlier, you spend all your time with him. Why not seal the deal?”

“Mr. Kamisato is reliable, and if you marry him, you're set for life. He's handsome too, and we've all seen his muscles at our company sports day a few months ago!”

“I've never been so thankful for team-building events. Hallelujah.”

Ayato's face burns in embarrassment hearing the dreamy sighs. Even if they think there isn't anyone else listening on them (which is false), shouldn't they exert some restraint at work?

“Please don't lust over my boss,” you assert sternly, voice ice cold. “And we have a strictly professional relationship. So don't get any weird ideas from here on out, alright?”

“Fine. Tell me that again when I'm invited at your wedding, I dare you.”

“I said-”

They wave off your vehement protests at the statement. “Then if you're not into Mr. Kamisato, what do you plan to do?”

Ayato perks up, straining his ears in rapt attention.

“...I'm going on a date this weekend,” you sigh, rubbing circles on your temples. “I'll let you know how it goes.”

Oh no.

--

“-Dinner was nice. We didn't expect the rain shower, but he ran to the convenience store across the street to buy an umbrella because he didn't want me to get wet on the way to the car. He said it would be a waste if my hair got ruined since I-”

Slurp.

“...Styled it for the occasion. Then he drove me home. I found out we liked the same band from the music he played, and we agreed to-”

Sluuurp.

“-Go to their upcoming concert together. Then we somehow also like the same novel that's getting a movie adaption soon, so we also promised to see it-”

Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuurp.

“Could you please refrain from making noise when eating, sir?”

Ayato decidedly does not comply and only slurps his boba tea harder, nearly choking on a tapioca pearl yet again.

As always, you learn to ignore him.

“Concert... and a movie. I'm not sure about the concert, but the film you're talking about is the one coming out in the next two months, right?” Thoma confirms, sweating when Ayato's expression turns visibly grim. “You plan to see him for that long...?”

“Even if dating doesn't work out, we can always become friends, can't we?” You shrug, taking a bite out of your sandwich. “He seems like a nice guy. We get along really well, considering we've only met once. I ended up agreeing to a second date-”

The passive-aggressive slurping persists for the following afternoon.

--

“I've been meaning to ask for a while,” Thoma treads carefully, noticing Ayato's rapid-fire typing—no, striking—on the keyboard, “Ms. [Surname] is good at her job, but you seem really... eager to make her stay, sir.”

Ayato's fingers halt in their movement, and he takes a second to flash his business smile. “Of course. She's a valuable asset, and I'd be foolish to let her go.”

“Yes, I'm well aware, but...” Thoma scratches his cheek, looking off to the side. “You didn't go to such lengths when your former assistants resigned from their post. Or, uh... you fired most of them.”

“Yes,” Ayato simply agrees, still smiling, “she's competent. You don't find anyone like her easily, so it's only natural I'd want her to stay.”

“What do you mean by 'anyone like her,' sir?”

Thoma is awfully talkative today. Ayato might need to feed him something spicy to shut him up.

“Ms. [Surname] is special.” The words smoothly leave his lips. “Does anyone else have the meetings and company events scheduled for the next month memorized? She's the only one I can count on for work matters.”

Thoma's shoulders slump. “Okay, let me get straight to the point. Do you-”

“Mr. Kamisato?”

Thoma nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, accompanied by the clack of your heels.

“What is it?” The cold smile on his face finally melts to something more genuine, softer around the edges and looking especially radiant. It's welcoming, like your arrival counts as a joyous occasion, and he is exponentially more attentive compared to the way he lent Thoma half his ear (the other preoccupied with a phone call, which he swiftly ends the moment you walk in).

“I came to deliver some files from Ms. Miko... did I interrupt something?” You gesture to Thoma standing idly by the side, dumbfounded from Ayato's inconceivable behavior.

“Not at all. Is there anything else?” Ayato accepts the documents, noticing your hesitance to leave.

“Ah, yes, I will be asking for time off tomorrow.”

That's... rare?

But it's not a hard request. Ayato's own schedule is blank for the most part, since the latest project wrapped up not too long ago, and the workload is lighter than usual. Missing one work day won't do any harm.

“It's fine, but could I ask why?”

You fidget, tentative as you reply, “I was invited... for a trip on a cruise. He insisted I come since his friend bailed on him and the tickets would go to waste.”

The warmth in his eyes freezes over.

“The tickets would go to waste...” Ayato repeats under his breath, mockingly cruel. The tone flies past your head but it hits Thoma full-force, making him sweat profusely.

Distasteful. An utter disgrace of a man. The magnitude of his ignorance is so awe-inspiring, I have to applaud. I must give credit where it is due, and the foolishness of this clown is truly impressive. “The tickets will go to waste,” he says? His money must worth more to him than his dignity. Inviting Ms. [Surname] to a date on a workday with no regard for her schedule is one thing, but making her out to be an afterthought as a substitute for his original travel partner is another. How shameful. This is no way to treat a lady. If Ayaka were to be with a man of his caliber, I would never allow it.

But what he says outloud is of course, “I see. I hope you have fun, then.”

--

Corporate events are, for the most part, adequately entertaining.

Preparing for it is not.

But the worst part isn't even brainstorming themes, or finding an appropriate venue, or planning the logistics, or writing the guest list.

It's choosing what to wear.

Actually, the cause for Ayato's headache isn't even what attire he'll go with. It's yours.

“That looks wonderful,” Yae praises, looking at the picture on your phone. It displays a silver necklace, a tear drop topaz encased in a diamond twist. It pairs well with the dress you bought with Ayaka last week, an elegant fit that accentuated your curves.

However.

“He chose that for you, didn't he?”

The stoic line of Ayato's mouth twitches and his eyes can't help but sweep over your screen, scrutinizing each grainy pixel.

Though he has plenty of insults prepared at his arsenal, he can't find anything to nitpick about. Damn it. It's a good choice.

“You'll look stunning,” Kokomi assures good-naturedly, smiling in delight. Ayato does not doubt that will be the case, but he's sure he would be in a foul mood the entire night if he were to see you adorning it.

He has already retrieved his coffee from the break room so he excuses himself to his office, long strides that lead him out of earshot.

As a result, he doesn't hear the following conversation.

“Why this, though?” Kokomi asks, looking closely at the accessory. “It's a simple design. Doesn't look like something a man would pick from the rest.”

You shake your head. “I just told him I wanted something blue, and I couldn't choose myself because there were too many that caught my eye...”

“Blue?” She echoes, a simple curiosity. “Why blue?”

“...It's a pretty color.”

--

It is an actual coincidence that Ayato runs into you in the middle of shopping.

You're hunched over a display stand showcasing a variety of earrings, deep in thought as you observe each one. You're doing that thing where you scrunch your nose in concentration, a habit Ayato doesn't think you even realize you have.

“Fancy meeting you here, Ms. [Surname].”

(He wonders what face you would've made if he said “You go here often?” instead. Probably some degree of disgust.)

You blink, correcting your posture and nodding in greeting. You don't look particularly thrilled to see him, but at least you're unbothered by the prospect of seeing your boss on a free day. “You're here to shop too, Mr. Kamisato?”

Ayato smiles amicably. “I am. Were you planning to buy earrings?”

“Yes, but...” Your gaze returns to the display, your own smile faltering. “It is a bit difficult to choose.”

He walks over, scanning the variety up and down. “Is it really? You only need to choose a pair that matches your necklace, right?” He focuses on shades of silver, bypassing the vibrant colors of reds and pinks. Not even fifteen seconds later, he picks out a card and holds it out next to your ear. “This one looks nice on you.”

“Huh? Really?” Perhaps surprised by his swiftness, it takes you a moment to react accordingly. You take the card from his hands and flip it over, eyes widening by a fraction. “Oh. It is rather pretty.” Then they widen further as big as saucers. “I can't say the same for the price tag, though.”

“Hm? What price tag?”

He plucks the earrings from your hands, walks to the counter, and pays for it without a second thought.

“M-Mr. Kamisato?”

“Pull up your hair.”

“Eh? Oh, okay.”

You're so caught off guard that you unwittingly do as he says, tucking your hair back obediently and still processing the last two minutes.

His fingers tug at your ear, warmth bleeding to your skin, and by the time you return to reality, he's already putting the earrings on you.

STORY FLOW.

ok i lied i actually can't remember shit about this fic so i will be making up stuff as i go lol

what i do remember clearly is that the resignation notice that ayato found on your desk is years old. you meant to submit it way, way back when ayato was tougher on you, and you weren't as well-adjusted as you are now to the job yet. as stated in the fic, being ayato's secretary is no easy task—he'd fired countless people he thought was incompetent.

you fought a number of times, and you didn't know if you could keep up working for a man you thought was simply incompatible with you (in terms of being colleagues/partners).

but over time, you learned to work together. ayato acknowledged your efforts and hard work, and you knew ayato had been trying to give you less jobs to reduce your workload, but you were going to prove that hou could handle it.

what truly made you appreciate ayato more was when you got stranded at the train station. you dealt with a far company they collaborated with, but work ended later than expected, and you'd missed the last train home. taxis were an option, but youd have to go through several of them to get back. right when you were thinking of checking into a hotel, ayato informed you he was already on his way and drove a couple of hours to get where you were to bring you home.

time continued to pass, and that brings us back to the present. you were on the process of cleaning up your desk and left the old resignation notice out in the open by accident, which led to ayato seeing it.

it is very apparent to the others that you two like each other, but the involved parties themselves are unaware of it. you currently aren't eager to get married, but you were trying to meet people so your parents would stop bugging you about still being single.

anyway, ayato bought those earrings for you. timeskip to the corporate event. you unconsciously picked a blue motif for your outfit because it reminds you of ayato.

when you get there, surprise, surprise. the man you were meeting, kazuha is a bigwig, heir to some other corporation. he actually owned that cruise he invited you to and pretended he didn't because you might be intimidated. ayato didn't think the kazuha he knew and the kazuha you knew were the same person, and now the advantage he had over him was ruled out (i.e being rich). (actually while i was rereading i was surprised i didn't mention that it was kazuha...? istg i was imagining him the whole time i wrote about him)

anyhow, as it became later in the night, ayato wanted to get you home before kazuha could offer to drive you back or worse, spend the night with him. ayato acted drunk so you'd tend to him and accompany him home while his driver was in charge of taking you to his apartment. as you were nagging at him, he compared your interactions with him to yours and kazuha's. you were certainly nicer to that man. smiled at him a lot more, too. did you really like him that much?

if you did, could he let you go?

he was ashamed that he couldn't answer it right away. as if he had any right to whatever you do.

you carried him to bed when you got to his apartment, but when you were preparing to leave, he hugged you from behind. do you like that man? why do you want to leave me? why can't it be me? ayato was just pretending to be drunk, but he felt dizzy now, soaked in your scent. he said things that he wasn't supposed to. things that he couldn't take back. things that would change your relationship forever.

slowly, you took away the hands wrapped around your waist. ayato figured that was a message of rejection.

but then you pushed him back down on the bed and you straddled his lap. his mind was silent for but a few seconds before he started screaming mentally.

i've always wanted you, but i knew it was impossible. you have a fiancee. i'm an ordinary worker. your family won't accept me. ayato's mind was in a daze because your face was so close to his, and all he could see was the red, glossy shade on your lips, but he managed to hear those few sentences.

it doesn't matter. nothing else matters. i can't marry if it's not you. if you accept me, i swear i'll make you happy.

from here on, it could be a happy, fluffy ending where turns out, you were tipsy so you were more honest with him and you fell asleep in the middle of kissing so he took it upon himself to change your dress into something more comfortable and end the night with a forehead kiss...

...or you could continue what you were doing and the first thing ayato takes off is the damned necklace so he could replace it with a smattering of hickeys. your choice ^^

[girl-lostconnection]

✨Concept ✨1 part

Thinking about Helldiver!Reader again.

They way they would absolutely love Soap and his sharp mind and his out of box thinking and his resourcefulness.

As a Helldiver in the field you often don’t have resources — too little time, ship leaves the orbit and leaves you with no supplies, no reinforcements, no protection.

Just you, ammo you have left in your mag and whatever you can scavenge around the barren terrain quick enough to scramble something together.

And Soap that chats you up about the bombs and explosives, elated to have such attentive listener, shares the ways to demolish something the quickest way possible, talks you through the process and wires and “nah, it’s alright, C4 is fairly harmless, see? Can make lil’le snake out of it”.

You never say why you are so interested in it, you never share that oftentimes there are no more ammunition to shoot the enemy, that grenades are all you have.

Soap grins, offering to give you a hand with what you work with on daily basis and you let him in the armoury — showing what you already bought, showing what you are currently using.

You get a little carried away, so proud of collection you already established — it’s not much but it costed you almost half a year of everyday deployments and you feel like it’s somehow satisfactory.

Not like anyone really checks what Helldivers work with anyway so you are in the clear.

But there is a strange look in Soap’s face and your voice waivers, jaws snapping shut, awful uncomfortable heat climbing up your face when he asks if it’s really everything you have.

Was it…was it not enough? Are you supposed to have more? How much more is needed? Do SAS have more? Shit, it must cost them good chunk of their salaries.

Thoughts swarm your head, visor of your helmet clicking back in place, hiding your eyes and maybe there was something in them. Just a glimpse. Just before you slammed your walls back up.

Because Soap’s voice softens when he hums “no biggie, let’s see what we can do, aye? These ones are actually real blast—” and you have the petty desire to push him out of your armoury. Off your ship. Away from you.

You don’t need his pity. You don’t- you don’t know what the fuck SAS works with but you got your supplies yourself and you worked so hard to get them.

But your fingers just clench and unclench, creak of leather gloves louder than you would’ve wanted because Soap looks at you like he wants to smack himself, because it feels as if you almost shrink on yourself.

But you don’t say anything because…it’s really not his fault. It’s just the way it is, right? You are sure SAS have their fair share of issues with supplies, after all, command said that it’s better Helldivers cover the costs themselves.

Surely situation must be real bad if they can’t provide you with decent armoury. But it’s not in issue — you work hard, you buy your supplies yourself, you slowly upgrade yourself, it’s fine really.

So you just write down all of his recommendations and fist bump him on your way out. What’s a little sting to the pride if you got the information and advice of actual demolitions expert?

You don’t notice the way Soap looks over your armoury again, muscle in his jaw twitching. He can see the patience and care it took to build up a somehow decent armoury, he can see that you scramble to get whatever you can as soon as you get any funds.

But he can also see that it’s barely enough to cover what you two talked about. He can see that no one gave you a proper training, no one gave any manuals and no one provided you with actual fucking supplies.

Soap doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s unheard of for soldiers, especially someone of you rank, to cover their bloody supplies costs themselves.

Soap doesn’t know how to tell you that the shine of Helldiver branch becomes more and more nefarious the more he hears and sees.

Soap doesn’t know how to tell it so he goes back to his team. Maybe someone else will know what to do.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell behind the cut; “Damian gets a Pocket”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Then when someone else manifests a Foci from Beloved’s origin point, they will not manifest bruised and dirty and scratched. 

Damian is meticulous in all things; in all ways. He is careful and thorough and precise, and every occasion that he is not is a flaw to be conquered. He does not allow himself failure or error or anything less than the most stringently-practiced perfection that can be achieved; does not allow himself to perform as anything less than that. 

He has to try twice before he can knot the tie of his school uniform to an acceptable standard today. He’s tied that knot dozens upon dozens of times and many others hundreds upon hundreds of times, but today–

The knot is imperfect, today, so Damian must re-tie it. 

Beloved chirps quietly from the desk. Damian looks to him. He is small and swallowed-up by the mass of Ringer’s jacket and Warning’s loose-fitting clothes, the eraser bag hooked over his shoulder by its drawstring like a messenger or duffel bag. 

His face is still bruised, and his knuckles are still scratched. 

Some Pockets are temporary companions only. Ones that do not last. Cannot last. And Damian knows his purpose in his soulmate’s life either way, because there is nothing so obvious as that. 

What else could a soulmate whose innermost self came to him dirty and tattered and bruised need from Robin but saving, after all? 

It makes more sense than any expectation of a relationship that would last, soulmate or not. 

Damian prefers himself this way, but no soulmate ever could. 

.

.

.

Breakfast was entirely uneventful. Father was asleep, as per his usual schedule, and Drake had already left the manor due to some nonsense involving his Pockets’ origin points, or at least one or two of them. Damian did not care to listen to his explanations to Pennyworth, only that Drake’s Pockets insisted on stopping to see Beloved before leaving and Beloved seemed flattered by the attention. 

Drake’s Pockets are ridiculous and annoying, but not as ridiculous and annoying as Drake himself is. 

Though their origin points are unbearable, so at least Drake headed out to meet them rather than being picked up. 

Small mercies, really. 

Damian had made certain that Titus and Alfred the cat were both fed and had fresh water, ate the peculiar experience that Pennyworth served for breakfast while missing shakshuka and congee and wishing Pennyworth were capable of cooking anything with more flavor in it than English cuisine, of all things. Or at least knew how to host a proper tea, if nothing else. Damian has not had any illusion of a decent tea since leaving the League, much less a decent teatime, and is fairly certain that he would release at least Two-Face or Poison Ivy from Arkham for a cup of even mediocre sahlab. Which isn’t even tea, admittedly, but still. 

The food in Gotham is less than satisfactory.

[rivendell-poet]

May I request a SFW Alphabet for Legolas? Regardless, thank you for feeding us well <3

Of course you may! Thanks so much for the compliment, hopefully this helps feed the hunger as well <3 (And thank you so much for the request!)

*･༓˚✧��𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « SFW Alphabet »

Wordcount : 2.7k (not including questions wordcount)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Legolas is fairly affectionate, he loves you and very much wants you to be aware of that, but he doesn't show it in obvious ways. His main way is spending time with you, simply being next to you and listening - staring at you with a quiet focus mixed with adoration. He also does a lot of little gestures, like getting up ahead of time to order breakfast for the both of you because he knew you wanted something hot. Or not getting out of bed at all, and staying put for hours because he knows you've been having a rough few days and you seem to get less nightmares when in his arms.

Does also do traditional shows of affection like giving you gifts (either very extravagant or literally a flower he found that was pretty).

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Legolas doesn't have too many friends, so when he has you you're very dear to him. Very much becomes a ride or die for you - and is willing to do a lot of things for you. Slightly concerning at times. You'll mention something almost impossible as a joke and he'll get his plotting face on, and you have to reassure him that the plot to usurp Elrond is just a joke.

Very much wants you and Aragorn and Gimli to like each other (if you don't) but doesn't understand that he's supposed to socialise with the three of you once he's introduced you guys. Just stands in the corner and stares at you anxiously because he's scared you won't like each other. You and Aragorn coax him back into socialising.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Somewhat foreign concept to him, elves aren't big on physical touch, so he doesn't initiate at first - simply because he doesn't know what they are. Once he's learnt what they are he'll occasionally initiate cuddling, but generally just comes near you and you have to pull him over.

More enjoys just lying in you, honestly. Is very happy to simply lie next to you and snuggle closer, although the two of you debate if this is a 'proper' cuddle.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Settle down in the way that you'll always be together and know you both love each other until the end of the world? Because he wants to do that. In terms of having a home and living there forever? Legolas does want a home, but he sees 'home' as less of a specific house and more a general location - Mirkwood is home to him, and he doesn't feel the need to be more specific. He enjoys the aspect of wandering and doesn't want to be tied down (also knows you'll both go to Valinor eventually - so what's the point in building something here?) If you really want to settle down he will, and he's content as long as you let him go off on a small adventure every now and then.

Legolas is not incredible at the act of cleaning itself, but is nothing if not determined. He will clean up that stain using nothing but water and his own shirt, even if it takes too long. Cleans up if he wakes before you. Also, his very presence seems to repel dirt - so you've got that covered. He's decent at cooking, not incredible but works well with a lot of ingredients and it tastes good. Excelles in recepies that require patience, can stand there and stir whatever needs stiring for ages. (If he's bored he has been know to watch food cook, claims it's more interesting than you think.)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Elves only fall in love once, so he truly doesn't want to do this. He will stick with you through thick and thin, would walk through fire for you. The only way I can see him ending it is if the relationship became abusive, because he would try to solve and problems the two of you have.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Again, his love for you is the one love he'll have in his life - he is very committed. Will be with you, and probably be committed to an unhealthy amount. To him, marriage isn't necessary but a show of commitment. He's always wanted to get married to you, but he wants to save proposal for that special moment. Also understands it's a much slower affair in human culture. (Bonus : His wedding outfit is a slightly more extravagant version of the outfit he wore at Aragorn's coronation.)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Legolas is very gentle physically, he's generally quite gentle but takes extra care with you. Is very relaxed around you, so a lot of the time when he hugs you or holds your hand it's with almost no force at all. Is very light, so enjoys being able to lay on you without crushing you. Emotionally he leans to gentle, but it's not a conscious choice as he's naturally very caring so doesn't want to upset you. Also sees no reason to not be himself around you, so doesn't try to tone himself down.

Knows he's not great with human emotions, so cares very deeply about learning them. Will sit down with you every now and then to check how you're doing, and if you're happy. Tries to learn your different faces and tells as well as what emotion goes with them. He does pretty well, as he is a very observant person. (Is secretly proud of himself for correctly identifying a lot of your moods.)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Legolas is fine with hugs, but prefers a little warning. Doesn't like it if you hug him really tightly and pin his arms in your hug - it makes him feel trapped and vulnerable. Plus he can't hug you back. Is good with tight hugs if you let his arms free, although he can never master giving them quite tightly enough. Can never quite master hugs in general, to be honest. You can feel when he hugs you because it's always a very timid start. You have to teach him it's ok to hug you tighter as well, and he does get it eventually. Likes putting his head in the crook of your neck, regardless of your height dynamics.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Accidentally confesses it by calling you 'melleth nîn' while he's complimenting you. You pick it up and question him about it, and he's just like 'yes?'. Of course you're the love of my life, I'm courting you. So of course I love you. Doesn't understand the big deal until you explain it to him. Is apologetic, but confirms he means it. (This is also how he realises that proposal is actually a big deal, and he should make sure to have it be romantic and at an appropriate time.) Will still use it very liberally however.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) More jealous if someone is having a lot of physical contact with you than if their flirting with you, simply because he views it as more intimate. Still, he isn't a very jealous person by nature as he's confident you love him - you're his one and only, so he's your one and only. If he does get jealous he simply inserts himself into the conversation and slowly becomes more and more obvious by dropping hints. (Will plead he doesn't understand human culture the first times he does it.) If it's in a setting where it allows, he sometimes does over-the-top tricks to show-off for you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Enjoys gentle but long kisses, so that's the kind he tends to initiate. These are on the lips, and you can always tell he wants one because his eyes will slowly focus more and more on your lips before looking to your eyes, as if asking permission. Sometimes if he's feeling mischevious he'll sneak up on you and announce his presence with a soft, very light kiss to the neck. Always in the same slightly unusual but specific place so you know it's him. He enjoys the kisses he likes to give, although a good way to make him slow down and snap him out of him overthinking is a kiss on the cheek. He'll stop and gently put his fingers to it before smiling at you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Is very good at impressing them with fancy tricks, is less good at actually interacting with them. He just hasn't seen many kids so they're a very new phenomenon to him that takes some time to figure out. You have had to stop him giving knives to small children so they can try and replicate his tricks. You know he won't actually let them come to harm, but you don't want him to give their parents a heart attack. Ocassionally, if a child has done something especially odd he stops and blinks at them, processing whatever they've done. This face never fails to make your laugh.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) As an elf, he needs to sleep a lot less than a human so gets up earlier than you almost all the time. If you're a heavy enough sleeper he'll often get out of bed a little before you wake up to freshen up the house, make you coffee/tea if you like that in the morning. If you've expressed preference for a particular food he might cook that. However, he almost always comes back to you before you wake up so you can wake up together. If you're a light sleeper he is more than happy to wake up and simply spend hours in your arms, very occassionally falls asleep in them so when you wake up you have a half-asleep elf cuddling you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Often a bit more energetic than you, but enjoys simply sitting down and relaxing without the need to do anything. Will drag you out to look at the stars if they're pretty enough, although gets pretty good at guaging whether or not you'd want to that specific time. If you're a heavy sleeper he gladly goes to bed with you, if you're a light sleeper he joins you most nights but every now and then stays up a little later. Is very concious to be quiet so you aren't awoken.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Doesn't really occur to him to tell you a lot about himself. Will gladly talk if it comes up, and every now and then you have a few hours where you ask questions about him and he answers them. Even with things he struggles with he is very open, although more reserved and probably wouldn't say until a few months into dating. The times he talks about himself without prompting are usually stories he thinks you'd enjoy hearing - likes to do this while it's quiet and there isn't anything going on.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) He's waited thousands of years to fall in love, he's very patient with you. Happy to talk you through steps a third or even a sixth time without complaint, the instructions just as clear as the last time. The only things that really anger him are when you act recklessly, although that's born out of a fear of losing you rather than anything malicious. Will go over and talk to you instead of bottling up his anger, and is transparent about it.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) It depends on what the topic is. Some topics, like that specific boque you liked with these flowers that had a certain scent and the third rose wasn't in full bloom, he remembers very well. Also good with your armour and personal details. However details that are more 'human' or not very important to him he sometimes struggles to remember. Is still enthusiastic and engages when you share these things with him, however. He just doesn't always remember them as well. If he feels their slipping from memory he sometimes randomly asks you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) He remembers your first day in Mirkwood, and how amazed you'd been by everything. His favourite part of the day was when he realised how bright the stars would look to you after you'd been in Mirkwood's night. The two of you had gone to the top of the trees together and stargazed in each other's arms as you tried to identify the constellations in such a different place. He loves it because it was the blending of the most important things in his life, and your willingness to love him even when he does stuff like this.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He's grown up for a lot of his life surrounded by guards, so he understands the annoyance of having several people around you everyday. Which is why it's just him! But seriously, he sees the duty of being a guard as an honour - so does enjoy being near you and being prepared to protect you. However, he's good at going into combat so isn't as much 'on guard' as he is simply spending time with you, only a thought in the back of his mind of him doing this to keep you safe. He's most vulnerable when sleeping or trying to go to sleep, so very much appriciates you being there - even more so if you hold him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Is very good simply because he has the time to do so, and the patience. He's going to be awake for a few hours without you, so why not use those hours doing something for you? Pretty original with this gifts and dates, as he has the means to get variety and the best of the best. Isn't a super craft-y person but you can tell he's really thought about you when he presents you with a gift he's brought. Legolas isn't the best at everyday tasks, although that's more because he had them done for him most of his life. He does try.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) He was a prince, so there are some aspects in which he's slightly spoiled. Although he could do a lot of basic tasks, and tasks that are needed in the wilderness, he does sometimes struggle with more basic things. He's also confident that he'll figure it out, so often doesn't tell you and just keeps struggling. Very occassionally forgets he needs to do things himself if he wants them done, so will leave something out and then be confused why it hasn't been fixed before remembering.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Quite concerned with his looks - he's an elf. A small part of him thinks elves are mainly known for their beauty, and if he doesn't keep it up you'll lose a lot of love for him/he won't be the elf you married. Cleaning and braiding his hair is often how he tries to regulate his emotions. If he's particularly stressed he'll spend a lot of time brushing and re-braiding his hair, sometimes to an obsessive amount.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Would not feel whole without you. When he fell in love with you, he gave you a piece of his heart forever - and that piece will always be with you, even if you break up. There's a piece of him missing when you finally pass away, and he'd much rather have Luthien's gift than be without you for all eternity.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) After Gimli introduces him to them, Legolas becomes enamoured by crystals. Collects lots of them, knows how they form and what they symbolise. Has a 'crystal of the week' which he puts on a special black velvet stand and admires it. His reasons for crystal of the week are very cryptic, and he doesn't seem to have particular likes. Will point out random crystals that 'remind him of you'.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Needs someone who appriciates greenery. You don't have to go on hikes with him, or be gardening, but when he shows you something incredible he wants to see that look of wonder in your eyes. Especially when his whole life he's been trying to turn Mirkwood back into the beauty it is after Sauron's defeat, it's an important part of himself that represents healing to him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Not a heavy or a light sleeper, although he seems aware of his surroundings - even in his sleep. Sometimes goes to bed later than you if you're a light sleeper as he doesn't sleep as long, and he doesn't want to wake you when he gets up. Will happily stay with you just before you wake up for early morning cuddles, however.

A/N : Thanks so much for requesting again! And again, hope you enjoyed! Also, special thanks to you Xiao - both one of my first requesters, but also one of the first people who interacted with my works <3

thank you for reading *･༓˚✧wish to be tagged?

[gemsofthegalaxy]

one thing that interests me in Linked Universe is the invitation of comparison of themes/ideas across the games that i might not have thought of otherwise. currently, i'm thinking of knighthood.

for example, both Sky and Wild were trained as knights, but 'being a knight' in society meant something vastly different at those two time periods in Hyrule(/Skyloft) history.

For Sky, being a knight originally seemed like a fairly mundane thing, there was a quaint little school for knighthood that everyone went to, it wasn't particularly special. Link himself wasn't even that special (the special thing about him wasn't his prowess with the sword but his utter dedication and determination to keep his loved ones' safe, not being good in school necessarily). Yes, he goes through trials to prove he is the proper protector of Zelda, the Triforce, and Hyrule, but that image of knighthood comes a bit later, especially in his life. His time at school seemed fairly relaxed, allowing him to be the type of student who sleeps in but still gets by just fine.

meanwhile, Wild has a... much different time becoming a knight. Having a sword handed to him at a young age, he was raised to believe his life's purpose was protecting the Princess and Hyrule. It's a noble pursuit and purpose, sure, but it leads him to silence and stoicism to deal with the pressure he's under. I believe his natural personality could have been at least a little more like Sky's, given the types of dialogue options we get in BoTW and all- Link without his memories seems to be a bit more lighthearted, often a little jokey. And, obviously some things depend on how you play him, but I know I have a hard time not rescuing the Hylian travellers if I see bokos going after them, and given how many helpful sidequests he has, it seems Link is genuinely kindhearted and helpful towards the people of Hyrule. In a way, he's still bearing the burden of protecting and providing for them, but he does it without the heavy weight of specific expectation that he's some complete and utter prodigy.

Sky and Wild are two of my favourite iterations of Link, partially because I'm drawn to more lighthearted stories- even though Wild's is quite tragic, it's not as heavy or dark as some of the other entries (and I actually had the chance to play it firsthand rather than only start it or watch gameplay of). It's deeply interesting to me to compare and contrast the two- I feel like they have a decent amount in common. They also had to work specifically to make themselves 'worthy' of the Master Sword, just as Zelda had to work to reach the Goddess and access her power. And, in both cases, Wild's version had a bit more of a troubled, rough time rather than just performing something ritualistic. It's funny, as the first and most recent at least in the storyline, they hold an interesting mirror to one another

[kipkoh]

I know it’s fairly popularized that Hunter liked being the Golden Guard but there was a line in Hunting Palisman that he says to Luz that has always captivated me: “At least you can figure out your own (future).”

This (not very subtle) statement of wishing to make his own decisions coupled with the fact that Hunter was studying wild magic even while he was still in the Coven is heavily indicative of the fact that he was dissatisfied with his role in life. I’m sure he was proud of being Golden Guard and really did want to help Belos in whatever way possible, but a big part of him did wish things could have been different for him. Those desires he announced in Thanks to Them were probably not spur of the moment ideas he wished he could have experienced before what he thought was going to be his death, but rather long term wants he’d been imagining himself taking part in even before he defected.

I’m bringing this idea up mostly because I keep thinking about Hunter’s life in the castle and the rare moments when he got to witness what normal kids lives were like. If the school tours of the castle were a common occurrence, I imagine he'd be curious enough to watch them when he could. At first he'd secretly trail them and observe how the kids interacted with each other, how they joked around with their friends, and overall how carefree they appeared. He'd watch the way they'd awe at the castle in a feeling of excitement he'd never gotten to share having grown up within those walls - the castle being all he’d ever known. Sometimes he'd imagine himself in one of their places - just a normal kid whose biggest worry was getting his homework finished before it was due instead of how he might be tossed aside and replaced by the one he called his family the second he was no longer of any use to him. At some point, maybe he would start avoiding the tours whenever they happened, not wanting to feel that painful yearning for a life that was never even within his grasp and instead choosing to try and forget about it completely in order to convince himself he was content being the person Belos wanted him to be.

Sometimes on his weekend missions he would encounter parents with their children just going about their everyday lives, smiling and happy and completely juxtaposed to his own experience with familial adults. He'd watch the ease of how a child's hand would slip into their parent's as if it was such a natural and common action, without even a hint of fear of negative consequence for the touch. Hunter would look down at his own hands mummified in leather and wonder why he'd never felt the gentle press of someone's loving palm against his own.

He'd watch two young children play fight with loose branches. He'd envy how their battle was pretend and the fact that neither of them were in any real danger. He'd silently scrutinize their battle form before offering to teach them proper tactics, only to be harshly turned away and reminded of the fact that normal kids didn't care, nor have a need, to know how to fight. He'd scoff at their lackluster ambitions and comment about how they would never join a decent Coven with attitudes like that, blatantly ignoring the fact that not everyone was forced to worry about proving their worth to everyone around them.

I don’t think Hunter going to Hexside to find new recruits in Any Sport In a Storm was just a random choice on his part. While there is some evidence that kids can choose to join the Covens early, it doesn’t seem like it’s something they’re forced to do before they at least finish school. Maybe they can be forced, which is what is implied when Hunter kidnapped the Emerald Entrails, but wouldn’t it be easier to seek out new recruits who would actually be willing to join of their own accord? Otherwise there would be no guarantee they would care enough to do their job well.

Hunter did try to recruit them naturally at first but when no one seemed interested, instead of moving on to a different group of people, he just chose to kidnap a group of kids and force them. He has this intense longing for a normal life but no way to reasonably go out and get it for himself, so instead he tries to bring that life to him instead. Maybe if there were other people his age around, it could be possible for him to experience even a taste of the camaraderie he’s seen the students on tours have towards one another. Of course a bunch of kidnapped kids might not want anything to do with him, but Hunter is probably desperate enough to where he didn’t really think it through that much. Either way, even if he can’t have that life for himself, maybe he’d feel less alone if he knew there were other kids experiencing the same struggles he was. Maybe he wouldn’t feel out of place if he wasn’t the only kid being forced to train for regular battles and missions. Maybe he wouldn’t feel as bad about not having the kind of parent-child relationships he sees in the streets if there were other kids around who never got to see their parents anyway. He wouldn’t be the only kid lost in a sea of adults at the castle who refused to respect him partly due to his age.

Of course we know it wouldn’t end up being the catharsis he’s seeking, but he’s willing to try. He’s spent over a decade in a life he wasn’t sure he wanted, constantly yearning for something more with other people always (though unwittingly) waving around their happy, normal lives in front of his face. He’s sad, he’s alone, he probably feels super guilty about it because he still wants to be what Belos wants and can’t… He’s probably spent his whole life in a constant internal struggle trying to either ignore his own desires or attempt to find a balance between his personal wants and his job that never truly existed.

[sirfrogsworth]

Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

[readychilledwine]

what do you think prythian's food is like? Like how does the food differ in each court? Which one is known for spicier food? Or meat centric or veggie centric food? Summer would probably have more seafood right?

The Food of Prythian Headcanons

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol. While this is food based, it is based on the vibes of what I felt the culture of each court would be like in comparison to real places in our world. Some of these may be discussion worthy. We handle that in polite ways. Also, Liz thirsting over Helion's thighs.

A/N - The gif had to be Anime food. No cooking show makes ya girl hungry like anime food does. Welcome to the beginning of the requests being queue. Some of you have waited a very long time for me to get out of my funk. I cannot thank you all enough for that.

Spring-

Spring in my opinion would be French style foods. Why? Because of how SJM described the molten chocolate Feyre had.

I imagine Spring to have fresh ingredients that, combined with meats, make light but filling meals and vibrate plates.

I see Tamlin as the cheese board kind of guy. I think Spring would be filled with different cheeses from around the map and lands and people capable of telling you all about them and proper pairings.

Wine. I know we hear about wine a lot in Night, but I will never drop the headcanon that Spring is 7 course meals with different wine pairs as the meal progresses

Overall, I imagine Spring to be filled with dishes that are focused on fresh and quality. I think they'd have a wide variety of options for meats and game.

Ps, edible flowers. They garnish plates with edible flowers

Summer-

Hear me out, I think Summer would be a combination of Hispanic and Latin foods

Summer is seafood heavy, no doubt. Fresh catches served after flavorful preparations.

Summer isn't afraid of seasoning. Nor spice. I think in terms of getting your spicy food fix, Summer is your best options.

Access to fresh fish and summertime thriving fruits such as limes and lemons, naturally Ceviche is a very common dish to be served and a traditional welcome meal for guests.

Pazole would also be right up there with the incorporation of fresh peppers and produce to make it flavorful and impactful.

Alcohol pairings in summer also include fruity mixes. Tarquin is a margarita on the rocks baddie. I will die on that hill.

Autumn-

I'm hiding from how controversial this one might be. I was torn with Autumn because of how Eris and Lucien are written. I think the Forest House with the High Lord and his family do not eat traditional Autumn cuisine and try to separate themselves. So, for Autumn, I am torn but will be focusing on my gut instinct.

Autumn is English and Irish cuisines. Hearty beef stews, bangers and mash, Yorkshire pudding. Meals in Autumn are warm, heavy, and meant to be fulfilling at a price point that even the lowest income families can pull off. Spoiler, I 100% think Lucien and Eris are throwing down bangers and mash. Why? Because it feels right.

Breakfasts tend to have a variety on the plate. Eggs and sausage served over beans was an immediate one that came to mind for me.

I think game meat is also very common in Autumn, but farming is the primary meat source. Cattle, boar, and sheep would make up the majority of dishes with chicken being a last choice.

I think fish is potentially common in Autumn, but they are tinned fish central. And let's not bash tinned fish. You can do a lot with it and create meals for a fairly decent price.

Autumn is spiked cider country. Apples grown so rapidly here that they had to find a way to work them into their drinks. Mother bless the barmaid who asked for some rum and said to hold her mead. Apples since have been worked into whiskey, wine, vodka, and whatever else they could sell. Cinnamon apple whiskey is a personal favorite of Eris's. I asked him myself.

Winter-

Winter to me has very Slavic vibes. With it being so bittery cold, though, I imagine their diets are filled with soups and very heavy stews.

Winter is a season that would struggle with produce and with how I picture trade systems working in Prythian, I'll bluntly say it, Winter is the pickled everything part of Prythian.

Pickled fish, vegetables, and olives are all very common ingredients in meals and as snacks.

Root vegetables such as onions, garlic, and potatoes are featured in every meal. They're known to grow in harsh environments, and paired together can be a great base to a meal.

Game meat is common here. Venison, elk and some options that we may less commonly think of such as bear, fox, wild big cats, and rabbit

Drinks wise, like the foods, it is about warmth. Mulled wines, warm ciders, anything to keep their hands warm and bellies full.

Dawn-

It would have been far too easy to argue Dawn is 24/7 breakfast, but I think Thesan is very into cuisine that touched the homelands of his Court's population.

Dawn is heavily leaning to Japanese and Asian styled foods. Bright dishes, bold flavor, and full of experiments and experiences. I don't think there is a dull meal in Dawn.

Dawn is filled with brothy soups centering around rich cuts of meat, different styles of noodles, and an ever rotating flavor profile as seasons change.

Seafood is common in Dawn, but they're open to trying any form of proteins. Eggs are a favorite.

I think meals in Dawn vary from you feeling heavy and ready for a nap afterward to something light and refreshing. I think this variation comes with seasons and availability to ingredients.

Dawn is drinking a variety of things. Hard liquor with touches of fruit, hearty beers, plum based wines, and teas. Dawn is filled with variety in the beverages, all paired perfectly to compliment meals.

Day-

Helion and the Day Court had to be a Mediterranean diet. I won't apologize. She can't describe thigh daddy as wearing white togas, snake arm bands, and not expect me to decide he serves me my favorite cuisine post... thigh admiration.

I also feel this works well with the Day Court due to me picturing it as a similar situation where the days reach high grueling temperatures and Nights are made for dancing under the moonlight in anticipation of getting to see morning break and the sun begin to rise.

The Day Court is light meals during the day hours that center heavily around fruits, vegetables, and seafood kissed with notes of citrus. Nights are slightly heavier with touches of beef and lamb joining in.

Hummus. There's various hummus bowls at every meal, and each one is a different layer of flavor or spice. Helion ensures they are served with a variety of root vegetables, pita breads, or falafel.

Drinking is common, but beers are not. Even beverages are kept light in Day. Of all the courts, though, I feel the Day Court is heavily pushing water intake.

Night-

Full discretion. I wanted to break the Night Court into Velaris, Hewn City, and Illyria. Due to tumblr LIMITING MY CREATIVITY (jerks) i am focusing on Velaris.

Have you ever wanted to make love to your food or make love because of your food? If so, "Welcome to the Night Court."

I think Velaris doesn't necessarily have a region of food from our world, but instead, it is a melting pot due to the variety of citizens and walks of life there. One thing is always true, though, artistic expression is worked into food.

Velaris is known for gorgeous plates, high end cuts of meats, and things being extra. It is common to see edible gold leaf in Velaris.

Proteins wise, I think due to the melting pot, there isn't a common or most popular choice. Venison, beef, lamb, chicken, and seafood are all common. I do think Velaris leans towards roasted vegetables, though. Roasting them can bring out flavor and, most importantly, color. I heavily believe presentation is key here.

Chocolate dipprd fruits are a favorite, but dipped figs with a touch of sea salt are a go to dessert.

Wines. Prepare for wines with every turn. Full bodied reds, crisp whites, flirty rosé, and oh so bubbly champagne.

In short, food in Velaris is meant to make you feel something, to push boundaries and flavor palette, and to fill your tummy.

[ryanisasleep]

So I was just getting into piercings (don't wanna get any though) and my mind spiraled

Both SFW and NSFW MDNI

CW: Drugs usage and blowjobs, mafia AU, and...nothing else?

I wanted to make a proper oneshot of this but alas I need to clear my head.

You got them in your rebellious phase, wearing dark clothes, smoking, going out with bad people and starting to do a small little bit of drugs judt to piss of your parents and on top of all, you got tattoos and piercings.

Your parents, strictly cristians, didn't know anything about it but grew suspicious. Nevertheless, you still got good grades and by the time they accidentally discovered it, they kicked the shit out of you. (18 was your age)

Atp you knew you had to get your shit together and you decided to spend your remaining money on a crappy apartament. At least it had a fairly decent room where you could lay your sleeping bag on.

Now came the money problem, what could you do? You were still in college and you had to somewhat pay rent and the school fees so you had to go and search for one that paid well.

While passing through the alleys of your poor town you passed at the entrance of a bar, now closed but you saw an announcement for a vacant place, a stripper place.

Now your parents bombarded you with "Do not go to places like that, bad guys and the mafia is there," or "do that and we will disown you" type of shit but you were really desperate so you decided to email the place once got back home.

It was a good way to make money fast and easy.

You met the owner of the place, a good man with mutton chops and light blue eyes and he was glad to have another worker, this time he was happier than ever since it was a guy and after a good talk on the basic things he assigned you the job.

The first time you worked there you were nervous.

You entered when the place was still closed and you saw workers setting the lights, sofàs tables and drinks. You didn't kbow what to truly do until another man with a mowhack greeted you with rather joy.

"Well hello there! You must be the new guy!" he was shorter than you but he certainly didn't lack the muscles...

"Well yeah, I am..." "Oh I know who you are don't be shy! My name is John Mactavish and I will show you around big guy!"

After talking and getting the place shown he got you in the private rooms "Damn you are big for sure, how many pushups can you do?"

He pooked at your arms, squeezing them like some sort of cat face. "Too many, too many since bootcamp"

You explained to him some of your past life and he replied he did some bootcamp too but had to leave for some family reasons.

.

Time skip

.

You were a real hit at that, you knew how to move and how to behave and the things you wore did help at enchanting your form. You realized that this place was an important one due to the fact that many contracts and businesses were done.

You asked Johnny what was all of this about and he simply replied you that this is were the mafia connected with the other cities. It was a good place since many drug lords and other sort of people came here to discuss and have a good hookup once in a while.

After that you came back to your pole and continued like nothing ever happend, you didn't really care about all of that since all you had to do was to earn cash to make you live longer.

But you were soon called into a different part of the club and there you realized you had to dance for other people.

At first it was no big deal but then you felt a hand passing on your sides and then slide on your back.

"Look here, the old man decided to hire someone else after that incident" it was a normal looking guy and his tone really did set your nerves off but he was quickly shushed by the head of the group, a tall man with a skull mask.

"Don't bother him, he does not know how to shut" he said after taking a drag of his cigarette.

After another bit of time he called in for a private booth.

Idk how to continue this

Basically then I had the idea of a blowjob...and...yeah you did that to him.

Imagine, like this guy expecting some relief after concluding a contract but the problem is you never did one so you were a bit hesitant

"Never did one before?" you nodded "Don't worry I can help you out. Open wide and no teeth"

You did and he unbuckled his belt revealing his member. He stroked it, and you heard a huff coming out of his mouth.

You loved his voice, you wanted to hear more and so you latched your tounge at the head, kitten licking it and slowly wrapping your mouth around it.

You heard many praises coming out of his mouth, such music for your ears and as you were all down and eagerly sucking his cock an idea came out in your head.

Teasing his piercings, all of 'em cuz by this time you understood that this guy was one hell of a good bottom. I mean, he ordered the complete service....

TBC I WANNA WRITE THIS THING BETTER

Also, you do not go to college, sorry for that, you have to pay your parents debts

[1moreff-creator]

Imagine Project Eden's Garden Chapter 1 but the victim and killer are reversed.

Alright, I’ve imagined it. Thanks for the ask!-

Ok no, I’ll give a proper answer ‘cuz this seems like fun xD I ended up writing a lot more than I’d imagined damn.

Spoilers for P:EG CH1. CW: Murder, stabbing, manipulation, mention of hallucinogenics

I guess the first big question is how exactly we get to a position where Wolfgang actually wants to kill Eva, and presumably want to get away with it so that the trial doesn’t last only two seconds.

The option I’ll go with is to stick to canon for the most part; Wolfgang goes down to the boiler room at 8:15, and Eva ambushes him. However, in this hypothetical, Eva doesn’t manage to hit him with the rolling pin, and instead Wolfgang defends himself, stabbing her in the heart. He makes his escape, keeping the note he received about meeting in the boiler in his pocket.

He’s probably covered in blood by this point, so he’d probably try to make it back to his room without seeing anyone in the hall. Let’s say he manages to do that, changes, washes off the blood, and quickly hides the bloody clothes under his bed or something (no one’s gonna check his room this time ‘cuz he’s not dead). I’ll say he left the knife at the crime scene, though, ‘cuz why not.

Now, before we move on, I have to say that this is twisting Wolfgang’s character quite a bit. I think he’d feel bad about killing Eva, though he’d try to assure himself he’s in the right because Eva tried to kill him and that makes her the irredeemable murderer and not him, or something like that.

However, I’m really not sure he’d actually try to win the trial. Maybe he’d try to convince Tozu to let it slide because it was self-defense, but we know that wouldn’t fly, and I don’t think Wolfgang would push further. However, for the sake of the hypothetical, let’s say that Wolfgang’s ambitions of greatness push him to self-preservation at all costs, so he tries to win the trial. I think that’s also fairly possible, maybe.

With that established, let’s move on to body discovery! While the gaming crew would probably look around for Eva when they notice she never came to set stuff up, the first discoverer would likely be Diana, going to the boiler at 8:45 because of the note she received. She becomes a suspect because of that, but in the trial, Damon and a few others are quick to make the others turn their attention to the crime itself before pointing fingers.

That would also include Wolfgang himself, believe it or not. While Eva was decent at being a blackened, Wolfgang would probably be even better. So, what’s his strategy?

I think Wolfgang would try to spin a narrative that paints Eva as some form of hero. Since Diana was her roommate, he could argue that Eva managed to read the letter Diana received before the day of the murder, and that she may have gone down to the boiler room to case out the scene and make sure Diana wasn’t walking into a trap. He’d argue that the presence of the battery, the hallucinogenic (which I’ll say was already in the boiler room and Eva wasn’t carrying it around to facilitate some things), the extension cord in the vent, the taser, etc., all implied the killer had a more elaborate method in mind, before Eva walked in on them and started a fight. The presence of two weapons in the crime scene reinforce the idea of a fight.

Why would Wolfgang do all this? To get emotional. If he paints Eva as a fallen hero, he can pretend to despise her killer with the same intensity as he hated the killer from the prologue trial. He’d act melancholic about Eva, pretending to regret ostracizing her now that he knew she truly cared about Diana. He’d shout about how the killer deserves death, for trying to kill someone as nice as Diana, only to then kill the person who tried to protect her. It’s a compelling narrative, that the others would love to believe for its simplicity and emotional weight. Diana especially, since she’d love to believe Eva really cared that much about her.

But why? Why would Wolfgang do this? Because he desperately needs to convince one specific person not to speak. He needs to make one specific person believe in his innocence wholeheartedly, for if this person were to ever think Wolfgang might be the killer, then their testimony could end the trial in one fell swoop.

And that person is Toshiko.

Because Toshiko saw Wolfgang leave his room at a time close to the time of death, and he said he was going to the gaming tournament. Since he never showed up there despite being very clearly alive, that immediately casts doubt as to where he actually was, and then he’s cooked.

Grace’s testimony isn’t damning on its own; Wolfgang could have been genuinely sick in the morning, only to get better later. It’s only with Toshiko’s testimony that his sickness comes into doubt, after all. As for Ingrid hearing Toshiko and Wolfgang talk, Wolfgang could say that happened in his room and that Toshiko just saw him walking past, and Toshiko would go with that based on their agreement. That’s why Toshiko’s testimony is the most important here.

So, right as the investigation starts, Wolfgang would pull Toshiko aside, and tell her not to spill the beans. He’d come up with some excuse for his lie about where he was going (maybe he’d say he wanted to meet with someone to discuss the motive, and he was worried she’d try to eavesdrop), and ask her to hear out what he had to say in the trial before telling anyone else what had happened that morning. He’d tell her that her testimony would only confuse people, because there’s no way Wolfgang’s the killer, right? So don’t say anything. And she’d oblige, because everyone loves Wolfgang! No way he’s lying!

And once he gets the story about Eva being a hero going, Toshiko would probably convince herself that Wolfgang hates the killer too much to be the blackened, and would continue to oblige with the vow of silence, for a while. This is the main purpose of Wolfgang’s narrative.

As for who Wolfgang would push as the blackened, uh. It needs to be someone without an alibi at 8:15, so while Damon (the first possibility I thought of) is more or less on the table, it’d have been risky for him to leave when Kai was still asleep. I think going for Wenona would be Wolfgang’s best bet, as he could argue her cutthroat attitude as the Ultimate Entrepreneur would make her the likeliest to kill first. I’m assuming here Wenona’s alibi doesn’t stretch to 8:15 btw, but I’m not sure we know that for certain.

However, the blackened never wins. Wolfgang’s narrative would fall apart when Damon points out a glaring issue with his story; Eva’s tablet. Although they’d have no idea where the tablet came from, the fact is, Eva had it (uh, let’s say she was already carrying it around in her pocket okay?), not the blackened. This is a problem because it means Eva had no reason to go down to the boiler room to “case the scene,” as Wolfgang would be arguing. She’d just check the cameras.

From there, Damon is quick to realize that Eva herself was probably the one planning the crime with the battery, based on the rolling pin. While I doubt he’d want to figure out the entire mechanism behind Eva’s plan, he’d at least figure that using a rolling pin to knock someone out was more likely to be part of said plan than using a knife to do literally anything. That would further imply Eva was the one with the plan, and that the killer was the one who likely acted in self-defense.

With that established, the cast comes to the conclusion that Eva must have also sent the killer a card similar to the one Diana received, where Eva threatened them based on their secrets. This narrows down the possible killers to those who had never talked to the person who received their secret; based on this, we can eliminate Toshiko, Grace, Ingrid, Jean, and possibly a few others based on what conversations happened offscreen. Adding in the already discussed alibis, the suspects start getting narrowed down.

Because of that, Toshiko speaks up, saying there’s something she’s been keeping secret, but she isn’t sure she should anymore. This is probably where the logos/pathos path split is; Damon has to convince Toshiko to speak up either through a logical argument or by appealing to her emotions. Toshiko obliges, gives her testimony of her chat with Wolfgang in the morning, and also says he told her not to tell. There’s some angst here with Toshiko presumably being very scared while saying all of this, as she is betraying Wolfgang’s trust, but we’re kinda skipping that.

The cast starts freaking out here, obviously. Some are mad at Toshiko for concealing info, Ingrid’s defending her, people are trying to steer back the trial, some are saying Wolfgang’s the killer 100%, some are trying to say he couldn’t have possibly done it, all the bullshit. Wolfgang’s now trying to gun for Damon (let’s say Kai had talked to his person about his secret so we can rule him out), claiming his alibi isn’t good enough. However, Damon defends by bringing up that he can’t have washed off fast enough after a murder at 8:15 to then pretend to go back to sleep for Kai’s awakening at 8:30, at least when taking into account travel time between boiler and his room.

With all the secrets and the alibis, slowly Wolfgang starts seeming like the only real possibility. The Argument Altercation with him starts when he claims that Eva herself had had his secret, but she had asked him to keep that conversation secret at all costs, so he was just honoring her wishes. This would rule him out as stated before, but it’s obviously a desperate gamble that would only work if Eva genuinely had his secret, or if the person who had his secret didn’t call him out on it, but it’s all he has. The Argument Altercation ends with Damon epically revealing that he’s the one that received Wolfgang’s secret, and that he absolutely never talked to him about it. The trial doesn’t last very long after that.

The cast would obviously be devastated after this, because Eva tried to kill someone and Wolfgang not only killed her, but also wanted to kill everyone else to save himself. I think Wolfgang would end up trying to tell the others not to fall in the same pit of despair as he had when he realized what killing Eva meant. He hadn’t meant to kill her, after all, and he genuinely wanted (most of) the group to stay together. This leads to Diana doing the same chameleon speech as she did in canon, though with different wording and promises. Overall, it’s hard to talk about changes past this point, as we don’t even know how canon will go, but I imagine Damon’s, Diana’s and Toshiko’s character arcs would be greatly affected because of everything that happened. Damon would get worse if the others keep idolizing Wolfgang even after that (which could genuinely happen), Diana wouldn’t be using Wolfgang as a role model so much, and god fucking knows what kind of trust issues Toshiko would develop after all that.

That’s all from me, hope it was fun. Thanks for the ask, this was a really interesting thought exercise!

[yansurnummu]

Critiquing the Construction of Cipher's Midden

AKA "Why Can't Hermaeus Mora, In His Infinite Knowledge, Teach These Poor Nerds Some Basic Joinery Techniques"

Being back in Apocrypha replaying these quests after what, 2 years now? Got me actually looking around and looking at some details in a few houses (for fic purposes, of course) and then once I started doing that, being a woodworking aficionado with some construction experience myself, I couldn't help noticing a few things.

(Disclaimer that this is just for fun and not meant to be ripping on the actual ESO devs who did a great job of creating some really great environments and set pieces)

Unsupported beams: Putting beams across an otherwise open roof situation like this will add rigidity to the structure, but uh. They've gotta actually be attached to the frame. To have it just stuck to the interior panels like that is concerning. Honestly, from this point on, I'm just assuming any circular beams are purely a decorative choice because they just don't make sense otherwise.

Mystery Gaps: This is only the beginning for these particular beams. They will become a recurring theme. it's actually fairly common in modern-day construction to have multiple thinner pieces of wood (like 2x4s for example) stacked together like this to create support beams as this is usually a more cost-effective option than something like 4x4 hardwood and isn't really significantly less strong. but having 1-2 inch gaps between them is ???? not that bad I guess but just why? You're only making more work for yourself.

Missed Connections: If we're assuming these beams are carried over from the outside, then these oddly-spaced, doubled-up beams are likely what's supporting the eaves of the roof. That's not good! Leramil, your study's gonna blow over in a stiff breeze! Always carry your load-bearing beams across the frame!

This is Fine: well, it's not fine, it's probably not helping with insulation in here, but structurally it's not a big deal, just a bit baffling. It looks like their roofs are built in 3 layers; the boards visible behind the broken parts would be laid down first over the frame, and then the shingles on top, and then this broken shiplap (using that literally here lol) is the interior layer. Note how they don't quite meet up where the frame is.

I have no idea what that metal brace is holding up. Or the ropes. I guess the Ciphers are all just really into shibari or something.

Here we can see that someone among the Ciphers has the skills to actually cut proper joinery. From the look of it, that beam is supported by this round log, which has a joint cut into it to keep it in place. Good job!

And here we can see the ends of those doubled-up beams from the interior.

Decorative Protrusions: So, there is a historical precedent for details like this, but typically they would be supporting the floor of an attic. On the opposite side of this, there's just... wall.

After the nightmare that is the interior, I was interested to see how bad the foundation would be, but honestly? It's pretty solid, assuming the beams are lap jointed (cutting blocks off the beam on the outside and cutting a corner off your beams on the inside so they then fit together and sit flush without the need for nails) Evenly spaced 4x4 beams about a foot apart, this would be great if not for the floorboards running parallel to the beams themselves, and then the odd connections of the posts that serve as the foundation not actually sitting on the frame. So close!

So, canonically, I believe that the Ciphers get most of their material salvaged from Fathom's Drift, which makes things like this doorframe actually make a decent amount of sense. These long, curved beams could feasibly have been part of a ship's hull once, and I think that's a pretty cool touch.

Now, onto the walkways:

a suspension bridge without a railing is just a springboard for co-workers you hate. bonus points for the tripping hazard to make extra sure you faceplant on the ground below.

I have no words for this railing. the nice thing about it is, assuming all those rods are dowelled into the boards beneath them, this could actually work out if they properly connected the rail itself. which it doesn't seem like they have, if the mix of nails and rope is anything to go by.

Before I finish this, I just wanna take a quick look at some furniture:

(Yes, I know these are technically the rustic High Isle set, but I'm doing them anyway)

Really the only issue I have with this table and chair set is that the seat of the chair is covered in nails. Don't do that. You've already used dowels on the back, just use them to connect the seat as well. Or if you have to use nails, you can sink them down further and then plug them with something. (I'm sure there's a tamriel equivalent of wood filler, it's basically just sawdust and adhesive) Otherwise these are both pretty solid and well built.

The chair back is a little interesting though. It's pretty common for chairs to be built with tennon joints (basically the vertical pieces have niches carved into them, and the horizontal slats either have the ends tapered, or carved away entirely to sit flush with the other piece) but the visible dowels are a little weird and probably not doing anything structurally. I guess it could be an aesthetic choice.

TL;DR:

Most of this place would absolutely not pass a building inspection. These choices vary from dangerous to just kind of weird, and the Ciphers should probably find a new carpenter.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk <3

[senka-mesecine]

A mini fic about the home birth of Barnes' wife.. Now I'm going to beg you for it pleasepleaseplease

The Day Beulah Jackson Climbed up the Mountain.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

---

You couldn’t have been normal to have been with that man.

That was the general consensus.

Something must’ve been seriously wrong with you.

She just wasn’t sure what exactly — not yet, anyhow.

But, she’d get to the bottom of it.

And yes, the women down in town discussed it ad nauseum, as they say; Discussed you. Half of them, she personally helped birth into this world decades and decades ago. The other half, she helped in giving birth to their own kids when that joyous, most blessed time arrived. In fact, there was probably no wife, no member of female kind, divorced, widowed or in a state of murky, questionable singlehood in a radius of a hundred miles that she hasn’t had a hand in aiding in the sense of being there in the most fragile and crucial of nature’s hours, making sure those newborns get pushed through alright, get enough air supply, spanking their red little bottoms crimson to ensure they cry when they’re blue and breathless, checking to make sure everything was in order — ten fingers, ten toes and all — cleaning up they mommas, changing the dirtied sheets, throwing out the blood and the placenta, making sure their breasts pump milk alright, that all the vitals are in order, visiting the happy, new parents in the weeks to come to ensure everything is as ripe as a peach and as fine as can be; figured a midwife was as crucial to these small town communities as a Preacher was, if not more, because Beulah Jackson, well, she helped the Preacher’s mother birth him back in the day and then she went and help the Preacher’s wife birth their children too, maintainin’ it generational, like a great big ol’ circle — it’s not quite an official ledger of all the county’s births she kept throughout the years, but she memorized it all, even now as she struggled up the steep, rocky trail of the carved woodland passageways thinking, in fact being certain, that possibly the one person she didn’t help deliver into this was this Barnes figure. Robert E. Lee Barnes; just the name alone gave her the heebie-jeebies. These hillbillies always had to have a name after a dead Confederate general or other. He couldn’t have that older from her own oldest son by a rough estimate, fresh out of that dreadful war over yonder, one of them mountain people decent folk would rather not run into — must’ve had a momma too at one point in time, yet who helped that poor woman give birth was beyond Beulah, because whoever it was, it certainly wasn’t her. She didn’t know anyone else who dabbled in her trade or get educated to go door-to-door. Was the 70’s. Drivin’ out to the hospital was one of them new fashions nowadays. 

Must’ve just let her writhe and struggle on some straw bed for twelve hours.

All on her own. Left it up to chance; however it turns, it’ll turn out, animalistically so.

Like proper white trash.

And now, she was heading up there to aid in the birth for a man she never recalls being birthed.

The birthless.

The birthless havin’ progeny.

Were you an abused woman? Was that it? ‘Cos women, they were known to make husbands outta any old thing the cat drags in; the drunks, the gamblers, the whoremongers, the lazies, the crazies, the type to throw hands. Heck, she should know. She’s seen it all in her time. She once helped the mother of six kids down in Pigeon Forge back in 1956. give birth to her seventh even as the woman’s face was freshly bruised red and blue with the faded signs of a fairly recent beating. Couldn’t have been the monetary gain you were after, because to live out here? Way up in this here middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but pine trees, boulders and fog for miles? Sure, she knew the villages and towns dotting the shadows of the Appalachians on the edge of the border were already remote by default, but this was beyond the pale, she concludes, clicking her tongue in displeasure, her duffle bag in tow, collar neatly buttoned at the neck accumulating sweat underneath the hem. She didn’t wanna judge too harshly, but maybe there was something lacking, inside your brain, that is. Simple Minded, and all. Maybe your daddy lost a gambling debt to some individuals he shouldn’t have gone gambling with in the first place and had no way to pay it back so giving up his daughter it was? Perhaps you were a runaway from her own home that ended up taking the wrong turn? Maybe you were a victim of kidnapping and some type of coercion the proper authorities ought to have looked into? Why not? She wouldn’t put anything the folks living up in these tucked away, overgrown hovels. Female kind was scarce up here — in fact, any kind was scarce but bears, foxes and mountain cats; so why not just steal one? Cut to the chase. Skip the whole courtship phase. Put a baby inside of her? Call it a day. She’s heard this Barnes fellow was scarred up and down his face in zig-zags and that he had eyes that drive the fear of God into people. That he was a Sergeant. A pretty nasty type. Who knows what he got up to back in the war; in fact, if he was decent people, he wouldn’t live up here. He’d live down there. Down with the rest of everyone else. Excess isolation, she thought with a certain sense of self assurance, catching the sight of a lone roof and a brick chimney circled in by the embraced of the woods, was often a sign that there was something the matter, because who on earth would go somewhere even seasoned hikers and hunters wouldn’t traverse with ease? Someone who had sumn’ to hide, that’s who. And to bring a whole child into these conditions too, bound to grow up like a feral mountain goat, jumping from rock to rock —

Well, shoot, they were lucky the tricky terrain was nothing new to her.

Otherwise, she would’ve turned back by now.

Alerted Social Services.

The Police, if need be.

Halfway considered tugging at your ear discreetly post-birth.

Explain you wouldn’t be the first or the last to leave a  tyrannical man, child or no child.

The house is exactly what she expects when she reaches it.

Yet not quite.

Was obvious there was a woman’s touch involved; clean garden space, tidied up front porch, the odd pot of flowers hanging from the roofed off portion of the front steps, wooden walls and heavy stone foundations green with old moss, moved lawn spaces in the middle of the wilderness like a patch of civilization carved out of nothing — reminded her of one of those rustic family homesteads miners digging for Zinc would have up in these hills before the vein of industry dried up and in fact, the frame of the man of the steps eerily remind her of that too. Nearly gives her a heart attack. Ah, yes. The man of the hour. Sure, his voice over the landline told Beulah enough about him, but seein’ him in the flesh, was like looking at a slab of marble cut out in the shape of a man, all sharp angles, edges and lines. She didn’t like this son of a bitch; but then again, she didn’t need to like her patients to do her calling of duty and doin’ it right and conscientiously. Sticking to the Hippocratic Oath. She feels herself going stiff at the sight of him. Like the high altitude of the air out on this solitary, woodland massif suddenly got visibly colder and thin. Nonetheless, she throws her shoulders out, maintaining composure. A woman was havin’ a baby. She didn’t have time to be anxious around the man who sired the whole situation. -"We talked over the phone. How far along has the cervix gone and dilated?"- She cuts right to the chase, directly and head on, the choice to bypass all pleasantries and greetings very much deliberate; her momma would be rolling around in her grave if she could see her now, bein’ as rude as she was bein’, but she felt it was necessary; to establish the rules right now — she didn’t much care what war he served in. He wasn’t her cup of tea. Especially not when he was just standing there, smoking, shoulder leaning against a wooden pillar. What was he playin’ at, all nonchalant, turning on his heel instead of sayin’ anything back, walking slowly, throwing down the butt of his cigarette and crushing it with a clean, pitch black bootheel, leisurely, like he wanted her to follow him inside. Where was he keeping his woman? Locked up in some hidden basement pantry somewhere? Like a captive Thumbelina?

The way he moved too. Didn’t move like a normal person.

He moved like he could pounce any moment.

Never gone about midwifing with a loaded shotgun before; but Barnes might’ve been the one occasion where she would have seriously considered it, even though that was no way for any babe to be born. The notion depresses her.

Just not Christian.

 -"Now, I wanna make one thing clear; I want clean sheets, a clean stationary to work on, a clean room, no ticks, flies, bugs, stains, cats and dogs inside the house, and if I see any funny business, I’ll have y’all’s asses reported to the —"-

She starts ranting, talking to his back and his shoulders clad in what seemed like green fatigues of some sort of army jacket rolled up at the sleeves, moving no more than a couple of feet ahead of her, leading her through a wooden corridor, seemingly ignoring her as she had her fingers up, going by numbers — perhaps she was harsh, sure, but she couldn’t stand his lot; firearms on the wall, old, rusty tubs in the backyard, car tires scattered everywhere, critters where cooking was being done; She wanted to maintain a certain hygienic and ethical standard and she intended to deliver this child like god intended: In an environment that was antiseptic, at least vaguely acceptable and good, halting for a moment in front of what seemed like the threshold of a nursery, different in coloring from the rest of the house, so much so that the interior was almost stark on the eyes as she unties her headscarf fastened into a knot under her chin, allowing her short perm breathin’ space; all lacquered white wood, a white bed frame, immaculate white sheets, white lace curtains drawn on, a gust of fresh air peering through a window left half ajar — the frame of a woman laid up in perfectly pale bedding, the sheen of sweat lining her face like she was already going through contractions. Beulah Jackson, as she lives and breathes, she’s positively taken aback, yes. Even the air inside smelled nice — crisp. Pleasant. You turn to look at her, a hill of a belly tucked away beneath a knit, soft seeming, creme colored blanket, protected by your hands and even you look just as inviting and tame as the rest of your surroundings. Like someone living in a gingerbread home in a gingerbread bed. The abode of someone well taken care of, she loathes to admit. Perhaps the most out of place, alien sights were herself after the long trek up the mountainside and Barnes himself, looking like a savage in a china shop, irregardless of the quietly smug look he gives her with those shot glass blue eyes, almost as if to say ‘This good ‘nough for’ya, ma’am? ‘To your tastes?’ Seating himself on the pale arm chair opposite of your bed, thighs wide, like he intended to stick around, wordlessly gloat and watch, never taking his eyes off of you. 

You were so pretty, she thinks, especially with these contrasts in place. 

What on earth attracted you to him?

-"Sugar, you mind the company?"-

She decides to ask as tenderly as humanly possible as she unfastens her coat, leaving it on a nearby sofa that looked like it belonged in a doll house, endearing herself to you tactically to make you feel safe in his presence, setting down her duffle bag on a clean, pristine white wood table and unzipping its contents, being careful to lift up the blanket covering your legs, certain to try and get some acknowledgment whether you wanted him in here in the first place. Eight centimeters dilated. Yeah, you should be ready soon. She could measure just by looking. -"Let me get you in a better position."- She mutters to herself, stacking up the ivory linen covered pillows underneath your calves to ensure your comfort; it doesn’t bypass Beulah’s notice basins of water heated up where early prepared alongside cut chunks of material, gauze and rubbing alcohol. She shoots Barnes a stare, catching him looking at her, gazing like a hawk, something sparkling in his eyes. There it was, that arrogance again. Well, he shouldn’t feel too self content. She expected a former army man who was in Vietnam to know his elbow from his asshole unlike most civilians. She wasn’t about to applaud a fish for swimming in a stream, that was for certain.

 -"No, I want him here."-

You manage as confirmation, through a groan, brows furrowed in immediate distress.

 -"You sure? Alright then."-

She retorts, feeling her head tilt curiously; you should’ve been in more pain by now.

She almost wondered if your Barnes fellow plied you with something to take away the strain.

She just hoped he didn’t go and pour gin into your mouth like it was expected with his lot.

-"I can see a head full of curly hair."-

She remarks, making the announcement, taking a peek into the tent of coverings held up by your spread knees, spotting the circular globe of a scalp riddled with moist, stick curls pushed forth by a sudden wave of rapid contractions, gaze briefly gazing the offending father on the arm chair — goodness gracious, the baby’s going to look like him too, to top it all off, with his head full of brushed out, semi short cropped, dark toffee colored ringlets, she just hoped to god it doesn’t miraculously and tragically go and inherit that nasty scar of his in the form of a birthmark. -"Now, push for me, darlin’, I’m thinkin’ you’re one of those lucky few who’s gonna be done in an hour."- Beulah predicts, quite frankly glad for you; least God could for you livin’ cooped up in the mountains with a man who looked like the devil’s offspring is to ensure you have a smooth, swift birth. Life had to balance itself out some way. Let some woman up in a manor townhouse in Nashville have the long, difficult birth, she figures, rolling up her sleeves after cleaning herself up to the elbows in the basin daddy dearest set out. She still wasn’t gonna applaud him for it -"Eyup! That’s good stock."- Barnes speaks up, probably for the first since she’s arrived, cocking his head to one side in an abrasive fashion, nearly startling Beulah.

His fingers protectively gripping your hand from his armchair now pulled entirely close.

Possessive.

Defensive.

Clearly mocking her through the way he simultaneously threw his prominent, scarred chin out, like someone who’s miraculously read every single thought ever since she’s walked up here. A twinge of subdued shame overtakes her once you push and your face crumples up in pain and she says nothing back to him because this wasn’t the right time to snipe at each other. The way he observed you so intently, his focus instantaneously rendered singular, almost boyish once you practically scream and throw your head back against the lacey pillow, like the years melt off of his face, undisrupted by his gnarly scar that quite frankly made her nose crinkle up in distress; for a moment he looked like a child; she shakes her head, brushing the thought off, focusing on all the blood and fluids lubricating the vent space for the little one to glide through — first birth; you were good and healthy. Predicted more for you. Your man seemed like the type who wouldn’t crawl off of you until you’re bred with at least ten, she scoffs, her Forceps, tools and vacuum on the ready in case extraction needed and the procedure gets stalled as you grip the sheets, pushing, your teeth gritted and lids crinkled up, sweat accumulated around hair neatly tied, brushed back —- she wondered if he did that for you too.

-"Now push, darlin’, I hate to say it, but y’all doin’ this perfectly fine without me! Must be a record!"-

She yells, voice congratulatory, fingers guiding the little head and shoulders protruding through where it ought to have gone; with birth, there really wasn’t any written rules. Some folks give birth after twelve hours of intensive struggle, some need a Caesarean, some give birth after five hours, some are just smiled on by a lucky star and give birth after half an hour and in her forty years of doing this, the shortest birth she’s helped along with had to have been four hours long; today, though, that place seemed to have been under a real threat of losing its number one spot only to be replaced by the woman of one Robert Barnes whose babe was already halfway inside of its momma and the other half, as slithery and as slick as an otter, in the palms of Beulah’s welcoming hands, eyes glued shut, face red, expression all crinkled up, sliding unto the clean cotton towel her pappa undoubtedly set out for you to lay on, now stained red with blood. Takes exactly thirty five minutes and ten seconds; the white ornate clock on the wall above the bed tells her as much; and at nine in the morning, one minute give or take, Beulah Jackson birthed a fresh bouncing baby girl, yes, all ten fingers and ten toes involved; her two hundredth and twenty eighth baby to date, umbilical cord attached to its placenta in tow; she cries out all on her own without even needin’ a spankin’.

Seven pounds and two ounces; the most perfectly average baby measurement.

She could tell simply through experience alone, years and years of birth perfectly average kids. She reaches for the disinfected scissors, about the set the newborn free; a chill runnin’ down her spine.

Realizing he was right there, shoulder to shoulder with her, starin’ down your privates.

The sheen of a push knife between the knuckles.

Man as big as a bull and as quiet as a rattlesnake.

Didn’t even notice him standing up from his seat and walking over.

-"Wh — what are your intentions with that thing?"-

She nearly stutters, drawling, pointing the top of her nose at the blade.

Watching him place the sharp, pointy edge against the fleshy rope of the cord attached to the bellybutton.

And cut.

Before she could stop him, he was carrying his baby girl to the washing basin.

He wanted to the do the honors personally, huh?

And here she semi expected a man like him to moan and complain his firstborn wasn’t a son.

-"Your hands better be clean."-

She interjects, not intending to be a pushover where the subject of a baby’s safety was concerned, approaching you instead, where your head lay on the pillow and clearing your accumulated sweat of your brow as you watched her eagerly, with a look of relief while Beulah herself, hell, she couldn’t help but observe those big, meaty bronze hands carefully wipe the newborn off from all the excess puss, blood and slime, aquiline nose fully downcast, lids heavy, entirely focused on the task, something oddly calm about it, about him in the spite of the fact that knife he cut the umbilical cord was right beside the wash basin, gleaming with a freckle of red, like a ruby. -"Bobby."- You moan out --- a peculiarly sweet nickname for a man like that --- the tone of your voice halfway cracking with pain, almost on the verge of tears when he approaches you, setting down the babe on your torso slowly for skin to skin contact, minding the head; Did he do this before? Was he from one of those families with a litter of children and he so happened to have several siblings he looked after or sumn’? She has to wonder, observing you two, collecting the blood stained basins, rags, cloths, the rolled up placenta and the spread out fabric that was underneath you in a singleminded pursuit of discarding of everything, giving the new parents a moment to themselves, watching Barnes back in his arm chair, elbows on his knees, having that perplex, sorrowful boyish look to him; like a ten year old grievin’.

Tender.

It was unexpectedly, harrowingly tender.

So much so she had to get out of there in spite of imagining her own legs grow petrified to stone, feelin’ like an intruder seein’ sumn’ not meant to be seen. You were normal. As opposed to all her expectations of you, you were a normal, well cared for woman. Perhaps not unlike any other woman she's ever met.

-"You folks rest up. I’ll be right here. I'll sow you up in a hot second."-

She whispers in a haste, small voiced for once; stunned for words, more like.

Quietly stepping out of the gingerbread doll bedroom, listening to you whimper with your child.

This was the one  day Beulah Jackson climbed up the mountain on foot, sure.

She figured, well enough, tossing the bloodied water into a nearby ditch —

Well, it would’ve been the day she climbed down the mountain too.

Understanding she didn’t have to understand everything.

And all the ways distinctive folks loved.

[mypimpademia]

— College

College student! Bakugo x College student! Black! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Headcanons of how Bakugo would be as a college student + what it’d be like to date him.

TW: Swearing, mentions of injuries, suggestive on some parts

Note: Made with the help of @katsumiiii <3. Also this is a sort of implied quirkless au bc it’s a college au but it doesn’t matter too much.

⇶ When Katsuki gets to college, he mellows out a whole lot

⇶ Of course he’s more mature than he was in high school. But now, he has a very obvious security in himself and is like a whole new person

⇶ He’s much quieter, and keeps to himself for the most part

⇶ Somehow, he’s even more focused on his goals than ever, and because of that he just doesn’t have energy to waste on cussing people out and yelling all the time

⇶ He has so much going for himself and he knows it, his priorities are set in stone and nothing can keep him from reaching his goals

⇶ Katsuki would likely major in something related to business whether it’s actually business, finance, analytics, etc, that’s all he can see himself in, and he’d fit the part well

⇶ Even though Katsuki has worked through a lot of his issues by this point, he still has a lot of frustration and stress he needs to channel

⇶ And being competitive by nature, he joins the football team and boxes on the side

⇶ Despite most of his teammates being fairly popular, Katsuki is extremely lowkey

⇶ He is still very popular, in a sense. People know him and know of him, but he minds his business and hardly speaks to most people

⇶ But of course the one person he spends as much time with as possible is his pretty girlfriend

⇶ What drew Katsuki to you initially was your determination and work ethic

⇶ You were smart, and heavily involved with the school and your peers, and he found this oddly attractive

⇶ Before getting together, you were decently known through your in involvement around campus. But after, you were both school celebrities

⇶ Everyone knew, or knew of, the two of you. And they all knew you belonged to each other

⇶ Though, you were both so busy that you’re hardly together during the week

⇶ But you always make your way towards each other by the end of the day, and compensate for lost time over the weekends

⇶ During your freshman year, you’d sneak into each others dorms for the weekend to spend time with one another

⇶ Of course, staying in a drab dorm room all day could be boring, even with company

⇶ So the two of you would always end up taking little adventures together whether it was a walk around campus, driving around town, shopping, or going out to eat, you always made sure your time was well spent

⇶ By your sophomore year, Katsuki would get his own apartment near by the campus

⇶ And although you still had a dorm, you essentially lived with him

⇶ A good chunk of your clothes and shoes were there, he bought all your body care for you so you weren’t taking it back and forth, more bonnets than you’d ever need, and of course, him.

⇶ But it was an advantage to the both of you, and your relationship. Because as busy as the two of you could get sometimes, even if you didn’t see each other the whole day, laying in the same bed at night was enough for you

⇶ During the week, even if your schedules had no alignment whatsoever, Katsuki would always make time to see you

⇶ He has a special knack for always knowing where you were at all times, and knew just when to show up, even if your location was off and you hadn’t communicated where you were to him in the slightest

⇶ This especially comes into play in the context of getting all three meals in on a daily basis

⇶ Katsuki still loves to cook, and he’s never played about having a proper diet and he won’t start with you

⇶ Even if he’s gone from his apartment by the time you wake up, there’s a nice warm breakfast sitting on his counter for you

⇶ And no matter where you are come lunch, he’ll make sure that you eat

Katsu💖: You eat yet princess?

You: Nah, I don’t have time to eat rn anyways

You: I think ima just skip lunch ngl

Katsu💖: The fuck do you mean you’re gonna skip lunch

You: I mean I’m gonna skip lunch!

Katsu💖: No tf you’re not

Katsu💖: I’m otw I’m bringing you food

You: bro

You: my location not even on rn fym you’re otw🧍‍♀️

Katsu💖: ? I don’t need your location to be on to know where you are

Katsu💖: What kind of bf would I be if I didn’t know where my gf was

Katsu💖: Especially if I just let her voluntarily starve like a dumbass

You: Alr.

Katsu💖: What do you take me for??? A fucking loser???

You: Now what if I said yes Katsuki.

Katsu💖: Then you’re not getting food

You: Yeahhhh okay😂😂😂😂

Katsu💖: I’m outside

Katsu💖: Hurry up before I change my mind🤦‍♂️

You: Ty bbg😋

Katsu💖: Do not call me that

⇶ Katsuki pulls his random “I’m outside” texts often

⇶ Usually, it’s to bring you some food, and sometimes he just misses his girl

⇶ As crazy as they may be at times, seeing that notification pop up never fails to make you smile

⇶ Nobody misses it when you smile like that either, you’re so well known as a pair that it’s expected that you’re going to see him when you basically skip out of the room

⇶ Unfortunately, being a well known pair doesn’t stop audacious people from hitting on either of you

⇶ On Katsuki’s end, he think people are insane when they approach him in such a way knowing that he’s dating you

⇶ It’s such a slap in the face whenever it happens, that he can do nothing but stare at the person like they’re stupid until they go away

⇶ On your end, Katsuki’s temper jumps out whenever people get the nerve to approach you in any sort of flirtatious way

⇶ If he’s in the area whenever it happens, he always pops up to remove the person from your space

⇶ If he’s not, you always tell him exactly what happened and the only response you ever get is, “I’ll handle it.”

⇶ Regardless of whether or not he’s present, he always handles it by having a less than friendly exchange with your pursuer that usually puts an end to things

⇶ If the person decides to persist for some reason, you become more reluctant to tell Katsuki about it

⇶ You know he cares about you, but you don’t want him stressing or putting to much energy into something that’s not worth it

⇶ But Katsuki can read you like a book, and to him, no energy that goes towards you is ever too much

⇶ Though Katsuki’s is reputation is fairly polished, it’s only blemishes come from people he ended up fighting over you

⇶ Days where neither of you are busy are both of your favorite days

⇶ They’re usually spent at his apartment, or running errands together

⇶ And of course, he squeezes in time for dates

⇶ On occasion, he’ll randomly tell you to get dressed up nice before taking you out for a fancy dinner and spoiling you with delicious food and thoughtful gifts

⇶ While you always stress about him spending so much money on you when he doesn’t let you do the same, he doesn’t mind at all

⇶ To others, Katsuki always seems to have a suspicious amount of money for a college student

⇶ It sparks some rumors, but nobody cares enough to make a big deal about it

⇶ The truth is, he makes money by modeling for his mom on the side, and makes a little off boxing as well

⇶ And if he’s being honest, most of his money goes to you

⇶ He pays for your hair products, hair, nails, clothes, random things you want, and sometimes even your groceries

⇶ Most of the time, you do small dates like picnics and study dates

⇶ He’ll set a cozy mood in his apartment with a led lights, a playlist going, candles lit, and both of you in matching pajamas

⇶ Katsuki makes snacks during breaks and gives you kisses whenever you get a question right

⇶ And what kind of boyfriend would he be if he wasn’t your personal tutor? He helps you on all and any work that you have, and if he doesn’t know jack shit about the class he’ll learn just for you

⇶ On days where just one of you is busy, you’re still attached at the hip, tagging along wherever the other goes just to be in each others presence

⇶ Game days are “secretly” Katsuki’s favorite

⇶ There’s a certain feeling that he only gets when he sees you wearing his jersey and hears you shouting his name from the stands

⇶ Runs over to talk to you whenever he gets a chance, even if he’s not supposed to be over there

⇶ Takes his good luck kisses VERY seriously, and honestly gets frustrated if he doesn’t get one both before the game and during half time

⇶ Even though he’s supposed to be with the team after games, he somehow always manages to slip away and simply go straight home with you

⇶ Half the time, he should be going to his trainers to get any cuts and bruises treated, but he’ll break a bone before he goes to a trainer instead of you

⇶ Puts it on everything that he heals extra fast when you do it, and even faster if you kiss him while you patch him up

⇶ While cleaning him up should really only take 30 minutes, it always ends up taking 2 hours because Katsuki can’t keep his hands to himself

⇶ Always going to kiss you on your lips, cheeks, and neck, always trying to hold your hands, grab at your thighs, pull you closer by your waist

⇶ You can hardly manage to ice a bruise when he gets like this

⇶ But when you finally get done cleaning him up, he thanks you and smothers you with more kisses

⇶ Cooks up a nice dinner to curl up on the couch with, and puts on a movie that you more than likely fall asleep to

⇶ But like the good boyfriend he is, Katsuki carries you to bed where he puts your bonnet on for you and crawls into bed with you

⇶ Coming home to you is by far Katsuki’s favorite part of his day, and even with the path in front of him, he thinks he’d be lost without you

—

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[suriel-tea]

Friendly reminder that Elain only grew flowers when they were poor when Feyre said in that chapter that they could afford to do so and when Elain, in return, bought Feyre paints, so she small bit of seeds was probably a tiny luxury that year (which was requited with a gift no one questions).

Also, Feyre mentions that even one of the wealthiest farmers’ sons even looked thin the year of book 1, so the soil is probably not the best in terms of fertility, so her growing a homestead-size vegetable garden (especially when there’s probably a decent amount of rodents that would be drawn in without the proper fencing or pesticides that they couldn’t afford) is fairly unrealistic.

But the paints for Feyre were so genuine an understanding of knowing what would mean the most to Feyre. Getting Elain seeds for vegetables as a gift would be like if Elain had gotten Feyre a sauce to pain onto their meat in return. It’s not really a gift.

But mostly the fact that Feyre says she got her seeds when she could spare it, so it seems like it was a gift Feyre chose for Elain and not something Elain chose for spending.