#Anyways there are a lot of mistakes and messed up details here
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A Hyrule Warriors Zelda!
Also Link! Though I probably won’t be finishing this particular sketch of him
#This is sort of part of a request lol#But I realized I needed to design her first since her canon design is just#Not the most practical XD#Sorry I’ve not been posting much lately#Been going thru the art block :/#My art#Character design#Hyrule warriors#hyrule warriors zelda#The legend of zelda#tloz#loz#zelda#hw zelda#how doth one even tag#Anyways there are a lot of mistakes and messed up details here#And I’m not hugely a fan of Zelda’s armor#But you can rest assured I should be posting a new and improved how Zelda soon XD#Anyways this was largely inspired by Joan of arc and also just medieval stuff in general ehehe#Hw link#hyrule warriors link
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In regards to the SU x TF2 AU:
I have been racking my brain over here trying to understand the decision to make RED Spy a ruby and BLU Spy a sapphire. Nothing about his portrayal seemed to line up with canon depictions of rubies or sapphires, and RED Spy's gem isn't even faceted like a ruby. Also the obvious joke of making him a Bixbite, like the corrupted gem who was a giant crab, seemed obvious. Then it dawned on me.
He's a color-change sapphire, isn't he? That's why his RED version has a sapphire cut despite supposedly being a ruby? And also potentially why he's the only one we've seen RED and BLU variations of (though I get the impression that's also so one can be paired with Scout's Ma and the other with Engie) when all the others have been RED(-ish) isn't it? Or am I completely off base with this theory?
i LOVE your theory i wish you shared your thoughts before i elaborated the ‘lore’ of the au
but since ive had lots of questions about details id like to mention that:
1. i originally had not planned to make any story behind the su au, so if there’s things that dont make sense, don’t align with canon and stuff, it was not planned soo im working with what i have :p
2. i was hoping no one notices the mistake i made of swapping the gems ruby/sapphire lol its because at first i had drawn Blu(sapphire) Spy in that page, but i thought it was confusing since there was RedSpy x Scout’sMa and Scout next to him, so i just changed the colors and i didnt change the gem bc i was lazy :P
3. the main reason i put both Blu/Red Spy was to create fusion, i thought to add an extra merc with a blu color would be cool for the fusions that isnt from ClassicTeam, and idk i couldn’t think of a better merc to have as a pair than Spy and i thought there is more potential with 2 Spies to work on a story than any other merc idk
(yes i didnt put garnet as the fusion so as not to make confusion with Demoman being a Garnet, and we don’t have an Amethyst anyways so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
4. it is IMPOSSIBLE to align each TF2 character with a SU character, there’s nothing in common between the two medias whatsoever, so the dynamics that im gonna be making for the TF2 au are gonna be a bit mixed, for example: RedSpy and BluSpy having Ruby/Sapphire’s dynamic (kinda), but also they have the same dynamic as Rose/Pearl, for the part where Red would go with a human (Scout’s Ma) and Blu would be jealous (just like pearl), HeavyMedic also would be having Ruby/Sapphire dynamic (the part where they fuse for the first time just like Ruby/Sapphire in the show, im still working on comic about this btw)
5. also im mixing with well TF2 canon story + trying really to make an original story too, soo its a whole mess ik :p im trying just bear with me ^^"
but thank you for pointing that out, it makes me happy knowing people actually pay attention to details thats super fun! ill make sure to not miss any details next time! :D
#tf2 x su au#my art#tf2#team fortress 2#lennylink#tf2 spy#fan art#lenny replied#scout ma#tf2 scouts mom#tf2 scout's mom#spy x spy#spycest#tf2 medic#doctor who reference#lol
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How To Write Cuddling
This my third part to my series where I get specific requests from people about what advice they want. Here we have @12-cluh to explain what about cuddling is getting them confused:
"Idk how to really describe what I'm going after. I'd say I'm more confused on how to describe the way the bodies are laying together? That sounds weird but you get it-"
Perfect, so our key problem is how to establish a character's positioning in the cuddling!
First: How Are These People Cuddling?
Here is some great writing advice for all manners of situations: try to physically establish where the characters are
Heck, you could draw a nice stickman cuddling session in order to get everything down.
This is mostly to prevent a type of "I gently wrapped my arms around her in an unending hug as I let my free hand grasp onto her colder fingers." situation. If you didn't notice, human character grew a third hand and certainly didn't tell me.
And obviously, reread your material out loud so your pesky brain wont perform it's own autocorrect
Next, there are tons of different cuddling positions that evoke different types of atmospheres from the sultry to the affectionate to the hilarious.
Based on what I googled, there are many different names and Shingles is the weirdest thing to name a cuddling style.
Since this cuddling is taking place between "a couple who finally get a day off. (featuring her tracing his scars! :3" I'm guess that @12-cluh is probably going for affectionate.
I probably would recommend "Sweetheart's Cradle" or "The Honeymoon Hug" if you are going for an ultra-affectionate cuddle.
If you are looking for something more casual yet still affectionate then "The Spoon" and, uhh, "Shingles" . The "Sweetheart's Cradle" could still work here but that's up to your interpretation of what Romance On The Go is talking about.
2. Actual Description
Quote: "...how to describe the way the bodies are laying together?
Obviously, it's hard for me to give specific details on how to describe the scene since it's feelings which change the world and influence how it arrives to the audience.
If this is a somber affair, based on the scar tracing, then that's obviously going to influence the atmosphere. If it's a highly affectionate get-together then that's the diction.
However, in general, you don't need proper "he laid down on her" type of weirdly phrased descriptions.
You just need to get the emotion across.
For example, "He lowers them onto the bed once again, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She latches onto him and refuses to let go for the rest of the night. She refuses to let go for forever, actually. She prayes that she wasn't alone. That this isn't just another dream or mistake. When the sunlight glimmers through the curtain, she will thank the gods for this blessed union."
I hoped I communicated the deep love and desperation between these characters :3 God, I am such a bad writer.
Anyway, as you can see there wasn't a lot of detail focused on where my female character was latching onto. All the detail you need is for the movements that display emotion such as the caressing
Here is a more comedic example for more proof: "What nobody told him about cuddling is how f*cking uncomfortable it was. What should've been a delicate and affectionate affair was instead a mess of limbs and sweat as his boyfriend's ability to light up his life was far more literal then he wanted. But even if his hand may never function again as this brick shithouse of a man has lovingly passed out on it, the feeling of just being together in this shitty cot makes his soul tremble in the sweetest, strangest way. "
I regret writing examples of this. I am going to get destroyed in the comments for my shitty writing ability :`(
Anyway, there is little set-up for what limbs are where and what everyone is specifically doing.
There are other things you can do to show the audience where your characters are. "Our breath mixed together". Or "I could hear his heartbeat".
And now I need to ask you "doth that satisfy thou my liege?" I tried to do this advice right since it's you and for some reason I care about you more then I should, darling.
So please give me my validation and feel free to ask me for more writing advice. I am forever at your beck and call.
#writing#writeblr#on writing#creative writing#writing advice#writing prompt#writing community#writing ideas#writing inspiration#writing life#writer#writers on tumblr#writers#writerscommunity#writer life#writers and readers#recommendation#ask me anything
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I love your art and comics so much!!! You are like the queen of HL comics for me!!! ❤️❤️❤️ So much so you've been inspiring me to start making my own comics (it has been since high school since I made comics and let's not get into how long ago that was 😂).
I was wondering if you would be willing to share some of your comic making process, especially in the early stages? I had much of a process in pre-planning stages, but now I'm trying it to see if it will help with my storytelling.
I hope you have a great day!! ❤️❤️
Thank you! 😭 that’s so cool you’re making comics again! And bashful by your ask as I do it for lols and still figuring it out myself. I refer a LOT to a couple of my favourite comic artists too, which I think is noticeably incorporated in mine but I’ll try and show my workings best as I can
Think it’s already obvious I love drawing expressions, is usually my first starting point doodling idly what would become the key frames
Of course study your favourite artists! The ones I look to is Akira Himekawa - Zelda Twilight series and Adam Warren - Empowered (not for under 18s)
I dragged out some previous comic pages I think are appropriate examples of the initial paper scribbles, rough lines to final.
venomous valour is an example of messing up as I focused too much on the faces and the speech gets cluttered.
Crucio attempting to draw the eye where it needs the main focus.
A couple of pages from Shadow Mountain, the fight was drafted more to keep a consistent line of action and not let it get disoriented on the geography, personally I try and stick to the 180 rule. The arc here was more a happy accident but helps lead movement across the page
Dialogue I like the least, but this page the speech bubbles lead the page layout so it’s read in the correct order reading from left to right
Generally I try not get too fussy about the details and aim overall for readability:
- Clear silhouettes, in figures, framing and composition. I often check rough pages within drafts on my tiny phone screen, does the focus get drawn where it should
- Is there enough information on what is happening or about to happen, like an anticipation in a pose to lead into the next panel
-Show intentions without having to say it, ask myself if no dialogue is the intent still there? Using your lovely Serena and the Fifth-Year as an example
It shows when I get lazy and draw my panels like a film frame and I use principles more rooted in animation so I make blunders or newbie mistakes when translating into a comic format but it’s all in good fun. Anyway I hope this helps you in your process and look forward to seeing more of your comics too! 💕
Extra: the ineligible scrawls of the shadow mountain and ancient magic drafts
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SHOW ME WHERE IT HURTS — SAM W.
⤷ An argument between sam and dean lead for the younger winchester to call the teen help line his friends has been bugging him about. ᡣ𐭩
cw: gn!reader, sam pov, platonic relationships, maybe a little of mischaracterization, jess is here, swearing, takes place in s1ep1, unbeta’d so mistakes are around, inspired by dawson’s creek’s college help line and this fic (read if you like cj braxton or jensen!), alot of sam internal monologue. banner || gif
It all started one night when Dean arrived at his and Jess’ apartment, out of nowhere, and tried to bring him back into hunting because of their dad’s prolonged disappearance. Sam’s mind was already a jumbled mess because of his interview on Monday; his brother’s appearance and his attempt to make him leave Stanford were the last things he needed. He can’t just leave the life he’s been building on his own—at first, at least, now he had his friends, his Jess— and Sam wasn’t willing to let it crumble down for the man that had shut him out of his own family.
He was quick to reject Dean, not even when he used his brotherly tone on him.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Dean said with a scowl. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Dad is—”
“I heard you, Dean.” Sam crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “And I meant what I said. This isn’t the first time Dad didn’t come when he said will.” He felt for Dean; he really did. If he were to have come sooner, before everything, Sam would’ve said yes. The guilt Sam had instilled in himself for leaving Dean weighed on his shoulders, but that wasn’t enough.
His brother’s frown deepened when he didn’t respond, though Sam could see the visible disappointment and anger in the boy’s eyes. The silence thickened the tension between them and deafened him—he swore he could hear Jess’ breathing in the other room.
Dean turned his head away from Sam, and with his jaw clenched in the same way he does whenever he wants to say something but refuses to. Sam, even with the little time he spent with Dean as a teenager, was able to pick up the facial expressions and unsaid words his brother would use when their dad was around.
“Fine.” It’s not fine. “I’ll go look for him myself, with or without you.” He meant that, actually. “Enjoy your little university, Sammy.” Go fuck yourself.
Sam suppressed a sigh as Dean left, who made sure to slam the door on his way out.
“That went well.” Jess was already behind him as she spoke. “He looked exactly as you described him; rugged and, I quote, like a ticking time bomb.” Her arms circled around his torso, managing to intertwine their fingers together. Sam remained quiet as he looked at the closed door.
He didn’t expect Dean to take his rejection so hard. Sam knew his brother was more than capable on fighting a house full of ghosts on his own, let alone finding a human being. Why did he need his help anyway?
Sam sighed, squeezing Jess’s hands. “It’s something you’ll need to get used to.” He turned around to plant a quick peck on the girl’s head, leading them back to their shared bedroom.
“I’m guessing this is a family matter you’re not going to share with me?” She asked as soon as she got on the bed.
“Jess...”
She smiled at him, though the corner of her lips didn’t exactly reach her eyes, and took his hand. Sam lets her gently pull him down beside her on the mattress, their feet planted on the wooden floorboards.
“I’m not going to pester you for it. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but judging from what I’ve heard, you guys have a lot to talk about with each other, not your girlfriend.”
“Tell me about it,” Sam agreed, running his fingers on his hair. “but I have a lot on my plate right now. I can’t just- you know, leave.”
Jess nodded, her expression never changing from her soft gaze. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you about it, since you don’t give me much detail about it.” Sam looked like he was about to be say her name again in that same tired voice whenever they would talk about his family. “But I know where you can. Anonymously, so you could tell all the details without trouble.”
He groaned, letting himself fall horizontally on the bed. Sam knew exactly what she was talking about. It’s been what his friends have been doing since the announcement from the school board. It was some sort of collaboration between neighboring schools— Stanford created a teenage helpline specifically for the university close to them, and vice versa. Some students confided in the helpline since the counselors weren’t from their university, but Sam had refused to give in.
It felt stupid to spill all your secrets and personal problems to another person, who’s most likely the same age as him, and expect to get the answers he needed. Sam had to point out that the helpline was used for normal problems, but that wasn’t something he could say to his friends, who continued to force him into dialing them.
“Jess, c’mon, I highly doubt a student can fix my problem with just one phone call.” Sam dismissed the idea entirely, but Jess seemed to be persistent with it, anyway. She lay on his chest, letting Sam’s hand twirl with the ends of her hair.
“Who said about fixing? or that it’s just one phone call?” Jess adjusted her position on the bed, letting her legs rest on Sam’s. “Sometimes, a person just has to talk to someone to help them feel better. Obviously the counselor won’t fix your family’s situation, but they could probably help you from exploding the pretty head of yours.”
Sam glanced at Jess, and from the tired tone in her voice when she spoke up, it didn’t surprise him to see her already fast asleep on top of him. He smiled for the first time in a while after Dean appeared, and the cogs in his head began spinning. For as long as he could remember, ever since he began studying at Stanford, Sam had nights where he’d talk to himself in his head. Sometimes, it would be about a test he needed to take the next morning— a topic he could easily make conversation with— but it’s usually about his family, more specifically his brother, Dean.
Especially during his first week, Sam found himself sleeping in a place that wasn’t a dingy motel with a roommate who wasn’t his brother. Sam wondered at night what Dean would be doing, knowing sleep was the last thing on the list. Then he would feel his chest tighten— the one thing his dad didn’t want his sons to have was fear. As much as he believed in Dean and the remaining fatherly instincts their dad had, Sam couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt for every possible injury his brother had or would have because he wasn’t there to back him up. The thought of the older brother, whom he viewed as the strongest person he knew (despite his lack of saying so), all bruised and battered, cornered by monsters no person should be laying their eyes on in the first place, clawed onto Sam the whole night.
And the worst part of it all was that he had nothing to prove himself otherwise, leaving him chained to his own guilt.
Sam closed his eyes, his migraine coming just in time. If monsters weren’t going to kill him, he was sure it would be himself who would do so.
—-
The next morning, as soon as he got his first vacant time in between classes, Sam had to excuse himself from his friends, including Jess, who exactly knew the reason why he needed to go back to the apartment. It was a now-or-never situation, Sam believed. He gave Jess a chaste kiss before leaving. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you,” she answered, though he was already a few steps away to hear it.
Sam entered the small home, leaving his bag on the couch, and grabbed the telephone from the bedroom. He was already pressing against the buttons before he registered what he was about to do. When it rang, Sam immediately began to think about what he was going to say.
It was an anonymous call, but surely he doesn’t have to be fully honest, right?
Even if Sam had never talked about his former profession to other people, he knew ghost hunting wasn’t exactly a well-received topic.
“Help line. This is Y/N.”
Sam held his breath for some reason, scared that even the pattern of his breathing could easily be an indicator of who he was. His leg nervously shook below him, still unable to say a word into the mouthpiece. A few seconds passed, and he heard your voice again; this time he could clearly hear your voice against his ear. Sam assumed you got closer to the phone.
“I could hear something shaking from your end, if I’m not mistaken. That’s either your hands trembling on the phone, your legs shaking against the floor, or it’s something else causing it.” His eyes widened at your observation just by what you’re hearing. This caused him to voluntarily stop his leg, embarrassed by his action.
“I guess it was you.” Your tone remained careful, though Sam had no idea why. “If there’s anything keeping you from talking freely, press on any of the buttons, please.” The boy finally registered your sudden change of mood— you were worried for him. It started to make him wonder what type of phone calls you receive every day.
“There’s nothing. I’m alone.” Sam leaned against the couch with a sigh. “Just nerves, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. A lot of first-time callers feel the same way.” You reassured him. He was glad your voice sounded much calmer.
“You can track those?”
“I mean, yeah, since you guys are anonymous, it’s the only way we can keep up with regulars.”
In truth, Sam fully expected a whole spiel from you. Like a robot scripted into saying whatever’s appropriate for the caller, he wasn’t fully prepared for your laid-back tone and casual words, as if the two of you were just friends talking.
“So, anything troubling you today? or in general?” He didn’t realize he’d been quiet for a whole minute. Again, he was surprised by the amount of patience you’re giving him.
“Oh, uh, yeah, yes.” Sam coughed into his fist at how awkward he sounded. “You guys don’t usually get family problems, don’t you?” He would assume so, seeing as both Help lines were created a few months before Midterms.
Sam heard a quiet chuckle from you. “We do, actually. A lot of Stanford students seemed to hate their parents more than we thought they would.” He doesn’t exactly fall far from them, Sam thought to himself.
“But we try our best not to fuel them. The Help Line is exactly what it is; we help, but only to a certain degree.” You continued, your voice full of the most sincerity he’s ever heard from someone. He could tell you were quite fond of what you do.
“I bet a lot of your callers were glad they decided to call you guys.”
“Maybe,” You paused for a moment. “are you?”
The change of topic caught him off guard. Sam didn’t exactly plan to keep the conversation going about you and Help Line; talking with you made him forget why he called in the first place. To catch that as well— you were really good of a counselor.
Sam nodded and realized what he just did before answering your question. “Yes, I am,” he couldn’t help the smile forming on his face. “this is probably the most like-able conversation I had over the phone.”
You hummed as you listened. “Unlike-able people calling you often?”
"Not really, now. I did have a bit of an argument with my brother in real life last night. I didn’t like how it ended.” Sam’s words came out almost naturally, unaware of how open he’s currently being. You had that sense of familiarity in Sam’s head already, despite how little time has passed since the two of you spoke.
“Tell me about it.” And he knew you meant it, so he did.
Sam gave all the details of what happened last night with Dean, though he had to keep him under the alias of ‘Older Brother’ for his sake. He told you about his relationship with their dad and with Dean, how he was never the son he wanted him to be, which resulted in him leaving for good and his small journey to Stanford.
He was still weighing his decision to be completely honest with you, and he told you that as well.
“That’s totally up to you, really. If those details aren’t needed for what you need help with, then you don’t have to.” You responded, being the ever-understanding angel Sam was learning you were.
“I’m not really looking for fixing, if that’s what you’re thinking of helping me,” he recalled Jess’ words from last night. “I don’t like talking about these things with my friends or my girlfriend because they shouldn’t be burdened by my messed up life.”
You were quiet on the other line, except for the barely audible breathing that told him you didn’t hang up on him. Sam wasn’t expecting an immediate response; you needed just the amount of time to think of one, just like any other person in a normal conversation would.
“I’m all ears, then. I can’t imagine having to handle all that by yourself. This call isn’t just for fixing, I assure you; sometimes people just need to let out some steam to help them think, y’know?”
“That’s true,” Sam agreed with a sigh. “I make a bunch of wrong decisions when I’m all worked up.”
“Like saying no to your brother?”
Sam’s lips thinned into a straight line, as if he were a deer caught in headlights. His silence seemed to have made you continue speaking.
“Hey, like I said, I’m all ears, but questions are meant to happen when you’re listening,” you said, your voice lighter than before, as if you’re trying to bring back the friendly mood.
Sam smiled as you did, scratching the back of his neck. “I get it, yeah,” he said, tapping on the back of the phone with his finger, thinking about your question. “my mind was a bit out of it last night, not to mention the—”
Pausing on his words, Sam managed to catch himself from mentioning how Dean greeted him that night. He didn’t think that was information you needed anyway.
“Never mind. What I’m trying to say is, yes, maybe my answer was a bit of a ‘heat of the moment’ thing,” Sam confessed. To you or to himself?
“I’m glad you finally managed to catch up with yourself.” Your voice was filled with humor, a teasing tone that somehow made Sam’s heavy chest a little bit lighter as he playfully scoffed.
“Is it allowed for counselors to make fun of their callers?” He challenged, but had no intention whatsoever. The chuckle from your end made him grin.
“Only if it’s needed in the process.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
The banter ended with the two of you laughing at each other, though Sam was laughing at himself a little bit. He knew Help Lines existed for a reason, but Sam doubted he’d get this much help if another person who wasn’t you had picked up his call in the first place. You were a good person in a good job that fitted you.
Sam’s mind was a bit clearer for now, definitely better than usual, and he wanted to fix his mistakes as soon as possible.
He was the first one to break the comfortable silence. “Thank you, by the way.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” You seemed to be genuinely pleased at it, though. “the best way you can thank me is if you feel better than before.”
“I do. After this call, I’ll probably start looking for my brother, if I can find a way.”
“Of course, you will. I can’t exactly help with that, but if you need me in ways that I can, feel free to call back next week.” Sam smiled at the offer. He wouldn’t mind that at all.
“How would I know it’s you I’m calling?” He asked.
“My shift starts at three pm and ends at eight. If you don’t get me, you’re allowed to switch counselors. Just look for the charming employee named Y/N and they’ll direct you to me.”
“I think saying your name would be just fine,” Sam chuckled as he heard your whispered protest. “okay, okay, I’ll ask the charming employee named Y/N when I call again.”
Your switch of moods made him shake his head. “That’s the spirit! You promise?”
“The name or the call?” Sam teased.
“Preferably both, but mostly the call part.”
“Yes, yeah, I will. I’ll update you on what happens.”
“Oh, gossip!” You faked a gasp, making you laugh at your own jokes as well Sam. “I’m so glad this isn’t a recorded line.”
#sam winchester x you#sam x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester angst#mentioned dean winchester#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural fic#spn fic#supernatural x reader#jared padalecki
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I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?
Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3
Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.
Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)
Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.
Please don't share without crediting.
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I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse.
“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke.
“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again.
“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand.
“No,” I said again. “I do know.”
“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they can. not after it’s been so long.
“There’s no evidence.” I said.
“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”
“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair.
“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does.
“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually.
“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office. I could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home. Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?
“Okay,” was all I managed to say.
“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder.
“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,” his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded.
“You’re sure?” She asked.
“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded.
“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.” I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again.
“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him.
“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile.
I stood up from my spot next to the desk. Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a
seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me.
“You’re reporting an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded.
“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open.
“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk.
“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching.
“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out.
“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit.
“And what’s his name?” He asked me.
“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening.
“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”
I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes.
“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.
“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”
“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued.
“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,
“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.” Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground.
“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”
“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me.
“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”
“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me.
“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any
reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do.
“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options.
“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked.
“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him.
“I do,” I spoke finally.
“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped.
“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly.
“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”
“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again.
“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.”
“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly.
“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile.
“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again.
“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled.
“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift.
“I’m sorry for keeping you,”
“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded.
He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building.
“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station.
“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”
“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.
“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered.
“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door.
“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me.
“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.” He stated.
“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said.
“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”
“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive.
It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house.
“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.”
“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him.
I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name.
“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.
“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said. Pulling me closer to him.
“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly.
“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said.
“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment.
“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”
“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax.
“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled.
“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly.
“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically.
“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated.
“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip.
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow.
“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!
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Part 2:
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empty til she fills | fuyumi todoroki x reader
You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.
Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.
Notes: Hiiiii everyone!!! This is the first installment of vampire empire and it’s all about fuyumi!!! It’s much shorter than I thought, but when it was done it was done u know? I love her I think she should be allowed to go apeshit and drink blood and not hold back if she wants to!!!!!!! Let her fuck!!!!!! Anyways yeah thanks for reading!! (title from vampire empire by big thief) u can listen to the playlist for the whole anthology here! Also I made a Pinterest board!
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, f! reader, explicit content, dark content, angst for like the briefest moment, violence, vampires, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (on both reader and another person), murder (u kill someone! It’s offscreen tho), blood kink, biting, drinking blood (fuyumi drinks from reader, u both drink from the dead man), biting and drinking from already open wounds, fingering, oral (reader eats fuyumi out!!! Yay!!!) (bloody), bloody sex, reader is sort of a masochist, soooo many commas, a line completely stolen from fascination (1979) cause I had to ajsjsjsjs, perspective changes between u and fuyumi like a lot idk I’m sorry she spoke to me<3
words: 4.3k
Fuyumi has always been a little unsure of what to do with her hands. When she sits, when she walks, when she kisses, while she waits. Where does she put them? Where do they go?
It’s the same, squeezing porcelain clay through her fingers, molding and shaping and running a wire through the middle and cursing when it doesn’t topple over. She’s bad with her hands, but she loves it, lumpy mugs and all.
And her mugs are lumpy, most of them break in the kiln, but whatever she’s proud of, she sends to her brothers.
She’s never been much of an artist, and all the years she’s lived (many, many years), none of it ever interested her. But when you’ve done everything, there’s no harm in trying. And so even though her pots and bowls end up twisted and misshapen on the wheel, she tries and tries until they’re at least a little bit useful.
The truth is that there, in the studio, surrounded by people who do all the same things that she does, mess up and try again, break things when they don’t turn out, or smash fragile wet clay held together by careful hands, Fuyumi feels human. She makes mistakes. She screws up. It’s something she’s never been allowed to do before.
Plus, you’re there.
The anatomy class pays you to model. Sometimes, she sees you run around in your long robe, buying snacks from the vending machines or remembering something you left in your car. She’s completely enamored with you, with your humanity, how free you seem. She’s envious, in a way, but really she just likes you, wants you—wants to bite you. Which is dangerous for Fuyumi because she stopped feeding from humans ages ago.
You collide on a Saturday night, left alone in the studio, separated by one wall. Fuyumi works late because she doesn’t sleep, and one of the owners of the building had given her a set of keys to lock up when she leaves. When she opens the door to the pottery studio, you’re out in the hallway, slapping your palm against the door next door and murmuring soft no’s as you peak through the glass. You have half a mind to just bust the thing down, except now you’re not alone in the hallway.
Fuyumi. The pretty vampire with streaks of scarlet through her ivory hair, cute glasses perched on her nose, and hands you think about way more often than you should steps out of the pottery studio. You’ve caught her staring at you before, and you can’t tell if it’s because she knows of the similar condition you have in common, or if she’s as interested in you as you are in her.
You both pause, caught staring at one another. The only thing on Fuyumi’s mind is that you’re probably completely naked under your robe.
“I—um, got locked out.” You say, finally, blowing air you have no need for out of your throat like a breath. It must be nerves. “My clothes are in there. My everything is in there.”
“Oh!” She shakes her head free of the thoughts of your bare body. Then a realization, “I have a key!”
You move out of her way and let her unlock the door, jiggling the key in the lock and pushing it open. You grin, press your hands into her shoulders and let out a squeal of delight. “Thank you!”
“Yeah, no problem.” She speaks, willing herself not to melt at the feeling of your fingers digging into her flesh for a moment. She turns to leave, satisfied with the interaction, enough to hold her over for a lifetime, maybe. Your hands on her shoulders, your robe against your skin, your neck.
“Fuyumi!” You call, and she feels like maybe she’s dreaming, or maybe she’s hearing things. But when she turns around, you’re looking at her expectantly. “Would you wait for me? I don’t really wanna walk to my car alone at night.”
It’s a good excuse, you think. Fuyumi’s got that bleeding heart (or lack of one). She won’t leave you alone.
“‘Course! Yeah, I’ve gotta lock the front, anyways, so—yeah, I’ll wait.” She nods, stepping back into the room and letting the door fall shut behind her. She watches you untie you’re robe at the middle, and she spins on her heel, facing the door again. She hears you chuckle, and it makes her feel a little silly. You’re naked for, like, four hours every day. It’s not like you would care if she watched.
But Fuyumi cares, because she doesn’t want to see you naked for the first time like that. She doesn’t want to see you naked and know she won’t be able to touch you.
“Okay, you can turn around, now.” You speak now that you’re dressed. She turns and you walk toward her, locking elbows. She leads you outside, locks the door with your hand against her arm like she’s yours, and walks you to your car.
“Guess I’ll see you next week.” She tells you, pulling away from you to walk to her bike. You call her name and it’s deja vu.
“Do you want to go get coffee?” You ask, stopping Fuyumi in her tracks yet again. She turns.
“It’s eleven o’clock at night.” Fuyumi says like an idiot.
“I just—I wanna keep…hanging out.” You say, and well, so does Fuyumi. Of course, she does. “Your bike’ll fit in the trunk. I’ll drive you home after.”
So, she says yes, stuffs her bike into your trunk with the back seats folded down, and ducks into your car.
You drive like a maniac, and you listen to your music way too loud, and Fuyumi hopes she doesn’t look as terrified as she feels despite knowing she can’t die in a car accident. But you can, she thinks, so yea, she’s terrified. And you drive like this all the time?
But you both make it in one piece, skirting into the parking lot of a diner with a yellowing neon sign out front. Everyone knows you inside, greeting you with happy smiles and asking you questions about your life, details Fuyumi hopes to know after tonight.
You take her to a booth in the corner, sliding in next to her instead of across, thighs pressed up against each other as a waitress brings you both a mug of hot coffee. You order apple pie with ice cream, and Fuyumi envies the fact that you’re even able to eat it. Since becoming a vampire, she’s lost any appetite for anything that isn’t blood.
“So, when were you turned?” You speak, licking vanilla ice cream off the back of your spoon, head resting on you fist as you stare at her. If Fuyumi had a working heart it would be beating out of her chest right now. “I don’t think you’re all that old. You actually seem pretty young. Tell me, maybe in the mid nineties, early two-thousands?”
Fuyumi opens then closes her mouth, unsure of what to say. How could you have possibly known (besides the fact that you got the decade way off)?
“I was turned in ’87 by an old boyfriend who couldn’t control himself.” You shrug, revealing the information like you hadn’t just told her that you, the little human she’s been so fascinated by lately, are a vampire.
“You’re a vampire.” She says—a statement—not a question, because of course, you’re a vampire.
“You didn’t know?” You ask, softer. She shakes her head, stares at the booth in front of her. She feels your fingers underneath her chin, and she’s not sure how she never noticed it before, but you’re hands are freezing. She lets you guide her to look at you. “Hey, are you okay? Did I freak you out?”
And it’s not that you’re a vampire. It’s not even that you’re a vampire that she was convinced was human. It’s that she wanted to bite you, wanted to feel that pop and gush, drink from you what’s not actually even being pumped through your body anymore, blood that’s lying dormant in your veins. And the thing is, she still wants to.
“I think I’m just shocked.” She speaks, willing herself to calm down, accept the situation, adapt. “I haven’t met another one of us here in town. It’s new, but it’s…good. I’m actually a little excited about it.”
“You don’t sound excited.” You observe, letting your hand fall to her thigh.
“I am—no really. I am.” She grins, leaning toward you. “How come you can eat real food?”
You think maybe she still hasn’t processed everything yet, the smile on her face a little unnerving. And there’s something in her eyes, raw, dangerous, hungry. It makes you shiver. “I never lost the appetite.”
“It tastes good to you?”
“So good.” You nod, unknowingly moving a little closer. Two girls pressed up against each other in a booth in a dark corner. Two vampires. Two monsters.
You’re there later than either of you expected to be, fingers intertwined, hands brushing away stray hairs, and words whispered against ears, tucking your face into her neck when you laugh at something inappropriate.
When you leave, Fuyumi tugs on your hand, interlocks two fingers as you walk to your car. You drive just as bad, but she doesn’t think she minds it this time. To die by your side, and all that.
When you drop her off at home, you scribble your number on her wrist with a green glitter gel pen and resist the urge to do something drastic like kiss her or invite yourself in.
Fuyumi realizes she’s left her bike in your trunk, her only mode of transportation to the studio besides walking. She eyes the green glitter on her skin and opens her phone.
left my bike in ur car:/ pick me up to go to the studio tmrrw? Read 2:22am
be there at 10 sent 2:24am
u can sit in on my class sent 2:25am
…
She does sit in on your class the next morning. You hold her hand and show her where to sit, a view of both the artist’s sketches of you and the actual you draped over a couch. It’s probably inappropriate to sit there all horny in the middle of this art class, but you won’t stop looking at her. You know exactly what your doing, mimicking the rise and fall of your chest like you’re breathing when she knows you’re not.
You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.
Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.
When the class ends, Fuyumi leaves to make more misshapen mugs, taking a few out of the kiln she thinks she’ll give to you. As the sun sets, both of you get ready to leave, and you’re at the door to the pottery studio by the time Fuyumi is done cleaning her space. You’re a little disappointed you missed watching her on the wheel, her pretty hands shaping the clay like you’ve seen her do many times before. You knock on the door frame, and she looks up at you, grins. Her hair is tied up, pieces of hair falling over her face, her cardigan falling down and exposing her right shoulder. You can’t get over how pretty she is, a little messy.
“Hi.” You speak.
“Hey. You ready?” She asks, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking towards you. You always want to watch her walk towards you—never away.
“I’m ready.” You nod, intertwining your fingers with hers when she makes her way towards you. You drive Fuyumi to your house, your arm over the console and your hand on her thigh.
Your place is small, really just big enough for you. The walls are a mauve color that Fuyumi decides she likes, tiny star shaped twinkle lights hang over each window instead of curtains, a bundle of violets stuffed inside a beer bottle sit on your coffee table, books and dvd’s and records all stacked against one another with what seems to be no sense of organization in your bookcases. It’s really not much for a vampire.
She sets her tote bag carefully on the counter, red and white checkered, pulling two of her signature misshapen mugs from inside. One painted blue with tiny yellow stars and the other lined with terribly drawn strawberries.
“These are for you.” She tells you, turning to face you as you’re bent over your stereo, looking for a station you like. Bits from the past stick with you like a refrigerator magnet. Fuyumi wants to remember the look on your face when you turn around and see her gift for the rest of her life.
“I love them!” You gush, rushing over to pick both of them up. “They’re perfect. One for me, and one for you. We’ll drink blood from them with our pinkies up and cheers to LeFanu.”
Fuyumi laughs, says nothing about the blood. “I’m glad you like them.”
You turn around, opening one of your cabinets open with a finger, setting the mugs down on the counter and moving two snoopy holiday mugs on one shelf towards the back. You set the gift down in their place and wave a hand over it like your presenting them on a gameshow, “I’ve replaced the snoopy mugs with them. That’s a big deal, you know.”
“I’m honored.” Fuyumi grins, moving around the counter to stand near you.
“You should be.” You lean a little closer to her, let her hand brush against your hip, hook her fingers in your belt loops. You nudge your nose against hers, and she takes that as a sign to kiss you.
Chapped lips meet yours, hungrier than you expected, much less soft than the girl before you. There’s a burning in your gut, her hands, those hands you’ve payed so much attention to, pressing into your hips, pulling you flush against her front. You let out a moan when she swipes her tongue against your lip, your bodies pressing closer and closer like you’ll become one person. She moves her leg in between your thighs, pressed up against you, and your mouth falls open in a gasp, one she wastes no time taking advantage of, all tongue and teeth, all her, her, her.
The two of you end up on your couch, unable to make it to the bed. If you had to wait any longer, you think maybe you’d both explode. She eats you out, there in your living room, makes you come three times in a row, familiar hungry eyes never stray from your own.
…
She doesn’t talk about the vampire thing. Ever. She goes quiet when you bring it up, busying herself with something else like washing the dishes in your sink or trying to find something to watch on tv. You mostly let it go because you know Fuyumi. You know how fascinated she is by humans, how she envies them, how that envy and fascination is the very reason you’re together now.
And maybe it should hurt you, the fact that believing you were human was the one reason she’d been so interested. But you know her, bleeding unbeating heart and all, she loves you. She loves you and your monster, she just doesn’t love her’s.
It’s difficult to drag the body through your house alone, vampire strength being something you hadn’t been blessed with once you’d turned all those years ago. Fuyumi sent you a message that she’d be at the studio late and would probably just end up going home instead of coming over. You figure you have time to drain this guy of all he’s worth, pack him up into little tupperwares in your fridge and be done with him by morning.
You’ve done this a million times before, dragged a body out to your back yard, fed from it until your satisfied before saving the rest. It’s enough to last you a couple of weeks. It’s a good system.
You don’t hear the sliding door open, you just hear Fuyumi say your name. You look up at her, blood on your mouth, your neck, your hands, fangs poking out underneath your top lip. You’re sure you look terrifying, but it’s the look on her face that scares you.
It’s disgust, and betrayal, and anger. It’s tears welling up in her pretty, gray eyes and her mouth falling open and closed at the sight of you.
But Fuyumi, well, Fuyumi wants to join you. It’s taking everything in her not to fall to her knees and sink her teeth into the neck of this possibly innocent man. She wants to drink and kiss you, and drink, and touch you, and then drink some more, this time from your neck. But Fuyumi doesn’t kill for blood, and she thought that neither did you.
“I can’t believe you.” Her words are quiet. If you both hadn’t been outside on a completely silent night, you don’t think you would have even heard her.
“Fuyumi…” You begin, standing up from where you’d previously crouched down, blood on your hands falling against the concrete in sticky splatters. She takes a step back like she’s scared of you.
“You killed him.”
“Fuyumi,” another step.
“Stay there.” You stop. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to love you. She does love you. You have to tell yourself that.
“I’m a vampire. What did you expect? This is who we are.” You try to explain.
“It’s not—it’s not who I am.” She shakes her head, flashes of red appear behind her eyes, the teeth of her brothers, her hands covered in blood the same way yours are now. Laughing, hollering, arms tangled together, the last time they’d all been with each other, the last time they were happy.
“It is. It is who you are. Fuyumi, you’re starving.” Your words seem to do something to her, her mouth falls closed. A decision is made, and her feet take her closer and closer to you and the body on the floor.
She wraps her hand around the back of your neck, thumbs through the blood you’re covered in and kisses you. She licks the blood on your lips, moaning from either your tongue or taste, you’re unsure. You pull her close, blood smearing against her white t-shirt. She pulls away from your lips, kissing your jaw and your neck, poking her tongue out to lick up the mess. You place your hands on her cheeks, pulling her back to look at you.
“Come here.” You whisper, pulling her down as you crouch to the ground. “I want you to drink—I want to share.”
She lets you pull her down, taking your hand in hers, slippery, slick. You move away from his neck, leaving it open for her, urging her. This is what she wants. There’s something about drinking from your bite in the man’s neck. You’ve been here, you’re bite is her bite is her blood.
And, god, is it delicious. She drinks, lets it fall down her throat in large gulps, dripping down her chin and neck. A sound escapes her throat, guttural, everything she’s deprived herself of having, here in between her teeth. She watches you while she drinks, eyes looking up through white lashes, reaching a hand out to hold you by the wrist, grounded. She pulls away, heaving, even though she has no need for breath. Her lips, saturated in red, begging to be tasted.
“You’re beautiful like that,” You speak, squeezing her hand, “with his blood on your mouth.”
She kisses you, all tongue, her fangs catching on your bottom lip. She pulls away and pushes you down, lets you bite the other side of the dead man’s neck, pets your hair as you drink. It goes on like this for a while, kissing, drinking, touching, whispers of please and oh, god and both of your names over and over until you’re a jumbled mess of words and sounds and blood and guts.
You stumble, half naked through the door, Fuyumi’s hands and lips all over you. You don’t make it to the bed, a habit the two of you have seemed to form, falling down on the hardwood, limbs all tangled. With her shirt already discarded outside, you thumb the hooks of her bra open, throwing it to the side. Blood has dripped from her throat down between the valley of her breasts, and you lick it up, feeling her back arch as she hovers above you.
She kisses your neck, almost frantic. Her fangs brush against your skin like she might sink into you, but she doesn’t, just kisses you so sweetly.
“Can I bite you, please?” She moans. “I need to—I’ve wanted to—”
“Yes.” You interrupt her, throwing your head back against the floor and baring your neck to her. She wastes no time sinking her fangs into your flesh, blood pouring into her mouth. Coppery and sweet, a hint of licorice and cherry—Fuyumi thinks she can’t get enough. You gasp, hands grabbing at her waist, fingers digging into her sides enough to leave a mark. You’ve never felt pain like this, all agony and bliss.
She smiles at you, bloody, when she pulls away. A part of you is her’s now, nestled between her ribs, living in her stomach. You taste yourself on her lips, hands pulling at her jeans, your leg moving between her thighs to grind against her cunt.
You flip her onto her back, sucking on her neck, venturing down her body. You pull her jeans from her legs, along with her underwear, spreading her legs. She’s so wet, thighs sticky with arousal as you run a finger through her folds. A whine escapes her lips as you thumb over her clit. With your eyes on her, you press your tongue to her entrance, watching how her face contorts in pleasure. It reminds you of the way she’d stared at you while drinking from the man, hand clutched to your wrist, not once daring to look away, With one hand, you reach up to do the same, bloody fingers circling her wrist as you devour her.
She writhes, arching her back and grinding against your face, a mess of slick and blood pooling in your mouth as you bring her closer and closer to orgasm.
“Please!” She cries, “please! Oh my god!”
Her moans only spur you on as you speed up the movement of your tongue, squeezing her wrist as you let her move her hips against your mouth. She comes with a strangled cry of your name, legs shaking around your head, falling limp against the floor as you lick at her swollen clit. You pull away, rising from your place in between her thighs to hover over her.
“Like that?” You ask her, placing soft kisses against her jaw. She manages a soft mhm before moving her face to kiss you.You run your hands up and down the sides of her body, “so pretty…”
“Let me touch you.” She begs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. You nod, letting her maneuver you so you’re on your back again. She kisses you again, swirling her tongue against yours, tasting herself. In a way, part of her is yours now, too.
She slips her hand into your underwear, gasping at the feeling of how wet you are. You take the opportunity to lick into her mouth, moaning against her lips as she slips two fingers inside of you. She pulls away from your mouth and eyes the open wound on your neck. You lock eyes with her, nodding in approval, allowing her to bite you again.
She bites and curls her fingers inside you at the same time. A choked scream escapes your throat at both sensations. You move your hips as she pumps her fingers in and out of you, her throat bobbing with each drink she takes from you. It’s overwhelming, and so satisfying, being the consumed for a change.
Her thumb brushes over your clit and you jolt, gripping her waist as she brings you closer to the edge.
“Kiss me!” You cry, “Fuyumi!”
She pulls away from your neck, watching how the blood flows from the wound, continuing her movements against your pussy. You pull her down to kiss you as you come from her fingers. You’re both moaning against each other, passing your blood between your tongues. She pulls her hand from between your legs, stares at the pink-tinted slick and how it webs between her fingers before wrapping her lips around her fingers and sucking them clean off.
She smiles down at you, hair a mess, glasses-less as they’d fallen off much earlier. You press your palms against her cheeks, admiring her. This Fuyumi is hungry, and bloody, and the furthest thing from human. You love her like this. You’ll be her’s forever, if she’ll have you.
You pull her into the shower with you, washing the blood from her hair and her back, taking turns and watching the blood swirl down the drain. She cleans the wound on your neck, and places a bandage over it, though you know it’ll be healed by morning. You place her glasses back onto her face. The two of you fall into bed, finally, arms and legs tangled together, huddled closely. She rubs over the bandage on your neck.
“Next time, I wanna bite you, okay?” You ask, nudging your nose against her. She lets out a laugh you’re excited to hear for the rest of your immortal life and nods.
“I can’t wait.”
#fuyumi todoroki x reader#fuyumi todoroki x you#fuyumi todoroki x female reader#bnha x reader#bnha smut#ghost.writes#ghost.fic#vampire empire
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So a few thoughts on C3E51, and narrative and encounter design. First off - I loved the episode and thought it was incredibly exciting and engaging and a fun gameplay time. But to engage with a few of the criticism points I'm seeing, I will also say:
At this point I'm assuming the encounter was always planned to end with some version of the outcome we ended up with. Is that railroading? Sure, I guess, but it's also pretty standard D&D encounter design. The "win condition" here wasn't stopping Ludinus entirely, but rather to what degree they could mess up and stall his plans through sabotage. And frankly, I think they actually did pretty well! They destroyed the key in the Feywild and some of the batteries here, and it seems like Ludinus's plan did not go perfectly for him; so I imagine now they have time to react to a very slow and imperfect version of what he was trying to unleash. And that is the next narrative beat we had to get to in order to continue the story.
I know they rolled very low this encounter and many things did go wrong but even with that I came out of the episode thinking of this great quote from Star Trek: "It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness; that is life." And that's sometimes an important story beat to hit! It certainly propelled Vox Machina forward after the fall of Emon, and the Apogee Solstice events seem to be performing a similar narrative role for Bells Hells.
To back up my interpretation here, there are a few things Matt did as a DM to signal that a failure here was not an Ultimate Failure and the point moving forward would be reacting to something fixable. The first was Ludinus's reaction to the machine breaking and his quickly covered up fear and uncertainty - he's trying to convince himself he "won" by the end but not as confident as he could be. The second is the fact that Matt took a lot of pains to point out in detail that team Orym, Laudna, Ashton could still see the beam of red shooting up into the sky at Ruidus. The moon prison hasn't been broken, it is breaking, and their efforts likely determined how badly and how much time they have to address it.
Anyway, wanted to push back against the "the encounter was unfair" or "railroading is bad" I've been seeing - the encounter was the encounter and served its purpose, and I recommend highly listening to Matt, Brennan, and Aabria talk about "railroading" in their GM roundtable to get a sense of it as a neutral rather than negative game design strategy.
There's a part 2 to this post but it was also long so it's HERE
#I actually had a whole other half of this discussion that I'm just going to make its own post about the former PCs and their role here#but this was already getting too long#meta#game master strategies#critical role#cr spoilers#oops initially posted this with some of the other post's thoughts still included#please go see that one for more elaboration on that
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WIBTA if I confronted my BF about not ordering from my store?
My bf (nb they) and I (m he) have been together 3 years, and have lived together half of that. I moved across states to be with them, and I am very happy being here with them.
Since moving here, I've worked at a fast food restaurant about a mile away from our house. It used to be one of my boyfriend's favorite places to eat, and they still order there sometimes. However, recently, the past year or so, they've been ordering from the location about three miles further away.
They DO still sometimes order from my location, but it is very rare. Usually when they have to pick me up from work. But outside of that, they order exclusively from locations that are further away and even more inconvenient to get to.
I think there's one main reason for this. Before I moved and began working here, they had a bad experience at my location, and this bad experience led to them (drunkenly, stupidly) leaving a couple of bad reviews. (Which was stupid of them.)
About six months into me working here, I sprained my knee, and my boyfriend met my boss and I at the urgent care. Turns out, my boss remembers those bad reviews, and she called them out on it! I think she's a total bitch, mostly for reasons unrelated to this, but her animosity towards my boyfriend explained a lot of her animosity towards me in the following months.
Anyway, my boyfriend was thoroughly embarrassed. I can't really say I blame them. But I was embarrassed too! Almost every time my boss acted like I was scum of the earth (when it couldn't be explained away by my own mistakes, which was often, because I'm actually really good at my job!) I found myself wondering if it was because of my boyfriend.
But I had to move past it, because this is my JOB. and I LOVE this job. I love the work I do, no matter what people think of it. I love everyone I work with, aside from my boss. I love learning new skills. I love the thrill of the lunch rush, and the thrill of working on a giant catering order and thinking "There's no way I'll ever finish this" until, all of a sudden, it's finished. I did office work before this, and this is so much more satisfying to me.
Anyway. All that to say, I moved past it. But my boyfriend, however, is still stuck in that stupid stage of embarrassment. No one who worked there while they made a fool of themself is still working there. No one knows or notices or cares, except for them. And I've told them this. And I'd really PREFER for them to order from my store, because it makes me feel valued and important to someone close to me. (Plus, any tip they leave is money directly back into our finances, which is good, IMO.)
I want to talk to them about it, but I know they'll just say how the embarrassment is too much for them. (Also, somewhat related, they've been trying to get me to apply for a new job further away, which is a pain because I can't drive and walking just a mile from the shop is too much for me, because I'm out of shape.)
I think they really don't want me to be here, but I WANT to be here. I think they don't like the work I do, but I LIKE the work I do. I would really appreciate it if they supported me by, at the very least, ordering from my store.
Would I be the asshole if I confronted them about this?
(Last couple details: my boyfriend always orders the club sub, which comes with bacon. They say our bacon is mid. I think they're full of shit, I've eaten so much of our bacon and think it is literally the best. I don't really see how another store could have better bacon. Also, when I first made sandwiches for them, I tended to show my favor by giving them extra meat and stuff. They said it messed with the "ratio" so I stopped doing that. Could that be why they don't order from me anymore? I don't see how that could be, since I took their feedback to heart and stopped doing it. Idk.)
What are these acronyms?
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Chaggie Cooking/Baking
Okay... hear me out...
This is something I have wanted to talk about for awhile. But it is so out of left field and absolutely nobody asked for this. But I want to rant, and this is my blog so suck it up.
So I read a lot of fan fiction... probably too much and as far as I have seen. A lot of people agree, that Charlie can't cook, but in the same vein most think that she can bake.
HAVE ANY OF YOU TRIED TO BAKE??
I'm talking anything other than premade flour dough, where you just add eggs, butter and water or oil.
None of this:
Baking is almost exclusively about specifics. Everything has to be mixed for a certain time. Over mixing can cause any rising agent to go flat. If you over mix eggs they will become curdled and dry. But if you under mix your bread becomes tough and dense, almost like a brick, making it inedible. With egg whites they can be left too runny and unusable in a meringue. Temperatures have to be exact. Butter has to be the correct consistency. You have to know how to measure, things can be messed up if you are off by a gram.
This is because Baking is quite literally, stripped down to it's most basic form, Chemistry.
All of this to say in baking you need 5 key things.
Organization
Attention to Detail
Co-ordination
Patience
Creativity
Does Charlie have all of these traits? YES! Can she hold all of them at once for 40 min? I am less certain.
However if Charlie is failing to cook... she is not succeeding in baking.
Now that being said. I think Charlie would make a fantastic cook.
If Baking is chemistry, cooking is art.
In baking if you mess something up and it doesn't taste good, you are back to step one. In cooking, you add seasoning and flavors and adjust to your taste and the tastes of others as you go.
Cooking is hands on, taste every step of the way.
Baking is follow this recipe exact or face the wrath of the gods. Cooking is, here is a general guideline, you decide what a pinch is, and always double the amount of garlic we suggest.
In art, there is trust the process, because in the moment things can look bad or strange or use ugly colors, but you can paint over mistakes, you can use markers to color over wrong lines, you can add details to turn something from a sketch to a masterpiece. You can look at something, see the mistake and fix it.
Tell me this scene of Remy dancing, tasting, and adding flavor doesn't seem exactly like what Charlie would do. Throwing stuff in, just to add to the flavor, improvising.
In episode 3 Charlie literally heard the words "I don't trust you" and decided that's what they were doing for the day. No plan, no idea, just straight into it.
(Charlie and Vaggie probably had a brainstorm session right before to decide on trust falls and to make the banner, but still)
Charlie as a Character very much hops into things with full enthusiasm and lets whatever is happening guide her to the next decision.
That is not the personality of a baker. That is the personality of a chef.
Anyway, someone please make an Au of this with Chef Charlie and Baker Vaggie trying to teach each other and fall in love. It would be so cute.
(Vaggie teaches Charlie discipline and subtly, creating a calmer mind in the kitchen, and Charlie applies that to her personal life, so she can better talk to people. Meanwhile Charlie teaches Vaggie how to have fun and go with the flow. Allowing Vaggie to go out and explore the world a bit more. Greet the world with open arms style. iykyk)
Anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk.
#hazbin hotel#vaggie#vaggie x charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin vaggie#chaggie#hazbin hotel fanfiction#charlie x vaggie#hazbin headcanons#hazbin chaggie#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie hazbin hotel#charlie headcanons#vaggie hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vaggie
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Too many big brothers
Characters: Kelly Severide x Sibling!Reader, most characters from 51
Warnings: Overprotective brother figures.
Summary: Going on a date shouldn't be this hard but, your firehouse family make sure it is.
A/N: I wanted more grrr but it might've been too much so I stopped. Sorry for any mistakes, I did not proofread this. Anyways, thoughts???????????
*****
Your cheeks were hurting way too much from how long you'd been smiling, your stomach in stitches from how much you'd been laughing in such a short amount of time.
Over the past week or so, you and your lab partner had been talking and hanging around at school much more than usual. It was a total shock when he approached you this morning at your locker if you wanted to go out to the movies with him and you accepted. Dylan was also decently attractive and shared your sense of humour, making your decision much easier than it would've been.
He offered to walk you home but you had to say no, explaining that you were being picked up but that only resulted in him keeping you company till your drive arrived. Your friends waved goodbye, giggling with smug smiles on their faces, saying things along the lines of having fun and how cute you two looked together.
Very rudely interrupting your conversation, stopping you mid laugh and Dylan mid story was the very familiar sounds of sirens and the honks from none other than a firetruck.
Low and behold, parked right in front of the school was not just one but three red trucks and an ambulance, all the inhabitants poking their heads out so they could wave and shout at you.
Immediately, all eyes were on the firefighters and you, knowing exactly who they were here for. You could say that you were known as the girl who had too much of the CFD behind her.
Groaning, you glared at your older brother who was laughing with no shame at all. No longer were they honking since they got your attention but their shenanigans remained.
"I'm so sorry about them." You apologised, hating that they interrupted them. Collecting your bag, you got to your feet and sent an apologetic smile to Dylan.
"I'll see you at six." Dylan confirmed with you, waving at you as you left and walked towards the squad truck, reciprocating his wave as you did so.
With all your attention now ahead of you, you glared and tutted at your family. "Ha ha, very funny. Thanks a lot."
"Your very welcome." Matt said, nodding at you in appreciation of your thanks. All of the guys and even the girls on ambo looked very proud of themselves for the scene they caused. "It's always a pleasure."
"You guys can stop now, you made your point." You said, opening the door, accepting Cruz's hand to help you up. "You couldn't help yourself, could you?"
"We just love you too much." "Just doing our job." "Your welcome." The squad members said in sync, snickering at your sour pout.
"Tony, just drive." You scowled, smacking your older brother on the arm but doing no damage, only causing the men to fall into another round of laughter.
*****
"So, who was that boy we saw you sitting with?" Was the first thing that was said the second everyone got back to the firehouse. They were all still getting out of their gear and weren't messing around.
You tried to act oblivious, coming across confused at the mention of the boy that kept you company but you failed big time. Upon trying to escape, you were trapped in the middle of a big circle of men that you never once found intimidating in your life but being the centre of attention brought an unnatural amount of nerves.
"Him? He's absolutely no one." You scoffed, shaking your head in denial. "We're just lab partners but that doesn't matter. He doesn't matter, trust me."
You were one hundred percent sure you weren't going to break under pressure but a single glance at Kelly's raised brow and you crumbled. "His name's Dylan."
"And does Dylan have no other friends?" Kelly asked, further prompting you to spill all the details despite knowing where this conversation was going.
You stuttered, unsure of what to say and how you were going to explain yourself. Even with your older brothers dating history, he cared very much about yours and refused to let any boy near you in fear of what would happen to you.
Luckily, this firehouse had been blessed with three amazing women who came to your rescue, saving you from the interrogation that was taking place. Grabbing onto your arms, you were pulled away and taken into the bunk room where you'd be safe for the time being.
Sighing in relief, you repeatedly thanked your saviours for their gracious act but as soon as the door was closed, the three woman sat you down on a bed and gathered around you with knowing smiles. You really couldn't escape this time.
"He wants to take me out to the movies tonight."
And the three practically screamed, muffling their volumes beneath their hands. They were elated that you were finally going out with a boy for the first time in your life. Not only that but being the only female figures in your life, they had the pleasure of helping you with everything.
"What time is he picking you up at?"
"I think he said six."
Oh how the glance they shared sent you so much nerves.
*****
You tried your hardest to leave without anyone noticing you. Being as stealthy as possible, you slipped down the corridors without anyone noticing, the girls sending you big smiles and thumbs up for encouragement but as soon as you got onto the app flour, you were caught.
You could see Dylan standing on the pavement outside where you told him you two would meet but alas, nothing was as easy as you wished it was.
"Would you look at the time? Six already, wow." Cruz said aloud, his attention very obviously diverted from the card game being played. The girls obviously couldn't keep a secret, especially when it concerned you.
Internally, you groaned, cursing the women's horrible ability to keep a secret. From where you stood, Dylan could see you and waved but instead of you going towards him, you reluctantly gestured him to come into the firehouse.
Poor boy was clueless, walking into the firehouse being totally oblivious as to what was happening.
"Dylan, this is my older brother Kelly." You introduced your brother with a tight lipped smile.
Kelly's face was stern, standing in front of the boy very intimidatingly, his arms crossed as if to make a strict first impression. Clearly, he was successful because Dylan felt clammy, shrinking under his glare.
In that very short time frame, everyone gathered round and stood behind Kelly, looking all sorts of scary and intimidating. The message being sent was received very quickly by your lab partner.
"What are your plans with my sister Dylan?" Kelly plainly asked, the question being very straight forward and simple.
"We're um going to the movies, probably get something to eat and bring her straight back here sir." Dylan replied nervously, his eyes flickering to all the firefighters.
Kelly hummed, his eyes not breaking contact with Dylan's. The tension was thick and continued to rise which you hated but you had to let everyone get everything out before you left.
"Come ere." Kelly said, gesturing Dylan to come forward, shocking you. With his arm now around his shoulder, Dylan was brought towards the rest of your family and you understood what was happening.
"Alright kids, have fun." Kelly's demeanour suddenly flipped as he clapped Dylan on the back, pushing him towards you.
Dylan was shaking in fear, almost on the verge of running away had his plans for the rest of the evening not consisted of hanging out with you.
Every single member of your family happily bid you goodbye, wishing you a wonderful night but the second you turned around, they all glared at Dylan's back, burning holes into his head.
"I'm so sorry about them. They're all family and are just a tad bit protective over me."
"Yeah, I can see that."
*****
To say you had a good night was an understatement. For your first date, it was pretty amazing and despite the minor hiccup earlier on, Dylan proved that he was worthwhile.
It was pitch black outside, the few lights coming from the firehouse and the street lamps lit up the street. Dylan and you were walking up the drive with your hand in his where it had been for a while now.
"Thank you." You said, a soft smile painting your glossy lips. "I'd love to do it again sometime."
"Give me a time and date, I'll be there." Dylan replied, reciprocating your smile. With your hand still in his, the vibe was clearly there but you weren't too sure if he caught onto it.
Very slowly, the two of you inched closer to each other but before anything could happen, you were interrupted by a throat clearing.
Somehow, you hadn't noticed the lieutenant and Captain smoking their cigars in their usual spots and for once, everyone remained inside, most likely getting some shut eye before the bells rung.
Kelly rose a brow, challenging Dylan to go any further and Matt was completely monotone but his captain jacket alone was scary enough.
Dylan nodded, reluctantly letting go of your hand but before you could walk away from him, he grabbed your wrist and pecked your cheek before quickly rushing off. Looking over his shoulder, he only looked at you. "See you at school tomorrow!"
Heat rushed up to your cheeks, not fully registering that he kissed you but your older brother and your older brother figure knew exactly what happened and they weren't too sure if they liked what they saw.
"You guys need to stop." You shook your head, failing to keep a straight face and smiling. You couldn't help yourself no matter how much you hated their overprotective behaviour.
"It's our job as your big brothers." Kelly said speaking for everyone as he squished up in his chair, gesturing for your to squeeze in like you used to as a kid which you did without question, resting your head on his shoulder.
"We won't be so easy on him next time."
#onechicago#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire#kelly severide#kelly severide x reader#kelly severide x y/n#sister reader#kelly severide sister
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Sam Messed Up + Tria Prima Ramblings
There are a few solid CAT# but one I really like is that it's based on if an incident affects the body, mind, or soul of the victim. This started off as an offhand example I used to explain how they could work, but there are a lot of fun links to it and will now make a semi-baseless accusation to continue to support it
Sam can't file documents correctly even when being told explicitly what to do.
Anyway, CAT#'s have been shown to have the following values, either in the show or on the Klaus doc: 1/2/3/12/13.
It stands to reason that if 13 can exist these are non-mutually exclusive categories and so 23 and 123 can also exist. And if an incident can be both 1 and 3 it would appear that these represent discrete facets of an incident's manifestation.
Given the show's obvious alchemic motifs it's not a huge leap to link that to the tria prima, alchemy's three primes; soul, spirit (mind), and body. These are represented by sulfur (🜍), mercury (☿), and salt (🜔) respectively. Each of which can be found on the OIAR's logo.
The strongest link here is that 3 is Body/Salt/🜔. Daria's transformation (full) was CAT3, ink5oul has 🜔 on their insta bio, and body is even the third thing in the list. Which is a great start.
We've also got transformation (eyes) at CAT23 which also helps back that up. There was an elemental of paranoia and mental manipulation to it as well as the transformation itself. That tracks really well for Spirit/Mercury/☿, which in alchemical terms is mind as most people would think of. CAT2 was also the watching doll which does also track.
The problem for me is with the last of our categories. CAT1 in the show has only been seen for reanimation (partial), combined with the extra context that said reanimation was "amalgamative", and I don't think that lines up well with a basic idea of Soul/Sulfur/🜍. If this was CAT13 I'd be all over this but I think given there is a strong emphasis of the physical body being an important detail here then it's not entirely convincing. Greater context could make it a stronger case though, if lots of undead ends up in CAT1 then it'd probably a sure thing.
The real problem with this idea is that Dr. Webber's incident seems to almost entirely disprove it. It was CAT2 and while it obviously had a strong mental component it's undeniably a huge physical transformation so it'd have to be CAT23 to really make this all make sense.
Which brings us to Sam. Sam definitely made one obvious mistake with the case number of Ep 3's incident. I think he also made a major mistake in its header. Both of which have solid foundations in the show's text. But I also think, somewhat seriously, that a third mistake has been made with the metatextual reason of obfuscating the meaning of this system.
So, after the incident plays and Sam talks to Alice about it she pretty explicitly tells him what it should be filed as. She says "“Infection” comma “arboreal”. Cross link it with “guilt” if you’re feeling fancy.", but this is what we get instead:
CAT2C8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (full body) -/- arboreal
Ignoring the header for the time being there firstly a very obvious and inarguable mistake. He missed out the R, and they all get the R because it's just a label. The header is also close to being different than what Alice mentions and arboreal as a crosslink specifically doesn't seem to fit in with the more emotional or mental elements crosslinks have had to that point. Arboreal doesn't fit in with regret, trespass, or dysmorphic, but guilt does. Which would make this the seemingly more correct case number and header:
CAT2RC8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (arboreal) -/- guilt
But based on the tria prima theory I'm now wondering if it's not meant to actually be this:
CAT23RC8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (arboreal) -/- guilt
And the 3 was removed to obfuscate the case numbering format. Because the stuff that was "wrong" is fairly obvious to find if that's all that was wrong with it but removing a digit from the CAT# is basically impossible to show unless you know for sure what's meant to be there. It's the sort of mistake that hides really well in ignorance, which makes it a great data point to screw with because of how it breaks ideas.
#the magnus protocol#tmagp#tmagp theory#tmagp speculation#tmagp spoilers#yes this is a cracked theory#no I don't care and neither should you#klaus is the backlog#klaus = kl4-u5
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*slams open door* @mcytblraufest
IT'S FINALLY POSTING WEEK FOR THE MCYTBLR AU FEST!!! YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA NOW LONG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT! Anyway, here's the art I submitted:
So, this is from my Rebirth DSMP AU based on the webtoon Rebirth! I haven't talked about it on here but it's definitely one of my favorite AUs :D For those who have read Rebirth, Wilbur takes Noah's place and Tommy takes Neo's place(and yes, they are brothers in this AU).
Also, it was an absolute pleasure to work with lemon_doodles(I don't know their Tumblr :']) and @deathshadowrules!!
Here's the link to deathshadowrules's fic:
And if lemon_doodles wants me to add the link to their fic, I'll reblog this with the link :>
Here's some info on this AU for a bit more context(this is pretty long btw):
(Also, quick note: The fanfics have a different interpretations of this AU and the information the art provided so the details might not line up)
Again, this is an AU heavily based on the webtoon Rebirth, I recommend it, it's really interesting :)
There are themes of time travel/time loops, zombies/zombie apocalypse, superpowers, and this is also a modern AU.
The world ended on November 16th(date idea credits to deathshadowrules) when during a solar eclipse, everyone on Earth passed out for an unexplainable reason and when they woke up the next day, half of those people became zombies, later referred to as the Undead due to them having abilities that exceed the zombies typically depicted in media. This day became known as Armageddon. Along with the rise of the Undead, some of the remaining humans gained abilities/superpowers.
Summary: Wilbur had experienced this apocalyptic world and survived for 6 years. In the later part of those 6 years, he ended up letting Tommy, his brother who he disregarded for years before Armageddon, get captured(I think by the military) for experimentation due to his unique abilities and body. (I'm trying not to spoil too much of Rebirth so some of this is vague TvT) He regretted this decision greatly because he found that he still cared a lot about Tommy, despite their relationship not being great over the years, so he decided to save Tommy from the experimentation. In doing so, he died right after he freed Tommy from the test tube he was being kept in, wishing he had one more chance to fix his mistakes, mainly to make sure that Tommy will remain safe and to (hopefully) mend their long-broken relationship. Then, Wilbur wakes up on November 15th, the day before Armageddon began, which was 6 years ago. He had traveled back in time after he died. He realized that this was his chance to save Tommy. Little did Wilbur know that Tommy has been in a sort of timeloop where once he dies in one timeline, he goes back in time near the start of Armageddon and starts another timeline.
Extra Details Time!
When Wilbur got sent back in time after his death, he got a white streak in his hair with a few gold strands(in the art, it literally just looks blonde because I messed up and couldn't fix it, I tried ahdkshj) Also, I was originally going to make one of Wilbur's eyes gold but I totally forgot while coloring and couldn't go back to fix it. Btw, the whole thing with the gold hair strands, butterflies, text, and eye makes more sense if you read Rebirth but I don't know how to explain it.
Wilbur and Tommy are not biologically related to Phil and Techno but Wilbur is still very close with them. He's known Phil and Techno since he was young and treated them more like family than his actual family. Tommy never really interacted much with Phil and Techno and honestly kind of avoided them. He didn't really know why he avoided those two, maybe because he was salty that Wilbur was always more friendly to them than to him. But otherwise, Tommy feels pretty neutral towards them and gains more respect for them throughout Armageddon due to how stable their living situation is for the end of the world(they've got a good base and everything. Their roles are based on the Blanche family)
Wilbur's wife is Sally, but unfortunately, she's a pretty self-centered person and attempts to hide this but her actions really expresses this fact. She takes the place of Parish, for those who read the webtoon, and I deeply apologize.
Fundy is Wilbur and Sally's son. He doesn't really like Tommy but they start being a bit less aggressive towards each other as the story progresses. He takes Abel's place.
Wilbur's ability is advanced fire manipulation instead of blood manipulation like Noah from Rebirth. Since Noah's blood manipulation has an unbelievable amount of possibilities, I kind of had to twist the possibilities of fire manipulation so that Wilbur's abilities are still able to fill the role they need to. If you want to get a good idea of a way Wilbur uses his fire manipulation, think like- Colonel Mustang's flame alchemy from Fullmetal Alchemist but instead of using alchemy, Wilbur causes his fire to burst.
Schlatt takes Ian's role and is just as much of a prick but him and Wilbur aren't brothers. Schlatt is a businessman that comes from a family that is close with Wilbur's, so they've known each other since they were kids(they were introduced to each other at a young age in the hopes they would be friendly enough to be able to work closely with each other). They were sort of friends before Schlatt became a prick but Wilbur still had to deal with him because he is a genuinely good businessman for the company(btw, I should probably mention that Wilbur owns a pretty big business, for those who don't have that context from Rebirth. Idk if the business will be the same or if I'll change it to fit Wilbur better)
Tubbo is Schlatt's son(from a previous marriage) but Schlatt is a pretty distant father because he doesn't really care. Tubbo takes Iva's place but has a different personality because he's older than Iva, and therefore, less innocent.
Quackity is married to Schlatt but he isn't Schlatt's first partner. A few months into the marriage, Quackity began regretting the marriage but felt like he couldn't end it. He takes Lena's place but him and Tubbo act more like close friends. They're both happy with their friendship and don't feel the need to push it to "family". Quackity still takes care of Tubbo though since Schlatt definitely isn't :/
Niki takes Li's place but is a bit less emotionless/cold. Her ability is being able to control water and its temperature(basically waterbending). Also, since people usually ship Noah and Li, I would just like to specify that Niki and Wilbur are friends and only friends.
Some ages(these are still a work in progress though): Wilbur- 26/28, Tommy- 14, Fundy- ~8-10, Tubbo- 14, Niki- 21/22
I think that's enough lore dumping for today :| This AU is still a big work in progress but I'm having so much fun with it!
#mcyt fanart event#2024 mcytblr au fest#dsmp au#nekole's aus#nekole's art#nekole's au lore#au lore dump#rebirth dsmp au#tommy innit#tommyinnit#tommyinnit dsmp#dsmp tommyinnit#tommy dsmp#dsmp tommy#wilbur dsmp#dsmp wilbur#dsmp#au wilbur soot#dsmp fanart#wilbur fanart#tommy fanart#tommyinnit fanart#2024 au fest
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @miguelito-maruti-blog request: Hmm, twins are my thing whenever I write a fanfic of certain characters. May I request how it feels being twins of Emu, The Tenmas, and The Hinomoris (both Tenmas and Hinomoris are separate, course). Just something that I wanted to request for a while.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Aoooh I see your idea!! I really hope I got your idea right and that's it's somehow alright-
Anyway, hope you like it at least a little!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic
✧ Being Saki's twin as a female, lead you to making few pranks here and there by pretending to be another, while as a male... you learned it doesn't really work in high school...
✧ when she was hospitled, rest of Leo/need, mainly Ichika would sometimes look at you hopefully or even approach you thinking you're Saki if you're THAT similar!
✧ but that's enough of angst, she actually doesn't use the fact you two look similar now that much...
✧ but you two do sometimes trick Tsukasa into thinking you can speak through telepathy because of being twins
✧ if you go to Miya, prepare for students to sometimes approach you just to realize you're not the twin they were looking for... she's signed for mant activities and is always outgoing after all, so of course many know her!
"You should join one of my activities! That way, we'd be even harder to tell apart! Oh don't worry about that little detail... nobody's gonna know~"
✧ speaking of Teukasa, even if you two are 1:1, he can still somehow tell you apart without hearing your voices or seeing your walking/standing style... How? You'll never know!
✧ but when he sees you two are trying to pretend to be another or to not be recognizable, he sometimes plays along just to make you two smile for a bit~
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@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @vodka-glrl @bad-the-an-enjoyer - come get your fashion lover!
✧ Shiho doesn't really mind... it's just one sibling more... and as you two may have some sweet moments now, in the past it wasn't so sweet...
✧ when her friend was hospitalized, she distanced herself from you, even more than with Shizuku. She was just worried since you two look a lot alike...
✧ but if you go to Kamiyama, she may be a little less like that
✧ tho back to current times! You two don't know how, but it's enough for one look from one and another knows what's going on more or less
✧ if you're not as calm and quiet as her... it's gonna be a bit of a bother for her to deal with you 24/7. Don't get her wrong, she loves you as her twin but... your energy is sometimes too much for her
✧ but if you're the same, prepare for everyone except for Shizuku and Leo/need to sometimes not be able to tell you apart... but even some L/n messes up from time to time!
"Hey, teacher gave you my notebook, didn't they? Eh... how do they still make mistake like that? We're nothing alike. Just give it back if you can."
✧ Shizuku definitely finds it impressive how you two basically talk through telepathy and will often nudge you to tell her too!
✧ she also cares about you just as much as about Shii, but if you accept it, she'll show a bit more since she sees open gate
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@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow - come get your dedicated bass player!
✧ Shizuku is an idol and a model, so being her twin most likely gives you some of that charm as well~
✧ if you're also a female, some people would often mistake you for Shizuku, especially fans!
✧ you most likely also get lots of invitations since you have quite a last name but it's up to you if you accept or not
✧ it also doesn't matter if you're twins, she's still gonna be caring towards you! And if she's older for few seconds, she'll use that exact argument for that
✧ if you two are 1:1, there's a high chance youll show up on April Fool's stream! Or if you're male, also a chance! And lemme tell you, fans loved your relationship with your twin!
✧ she also used to do that "guess who's who" game but now it happens like once or twice a year to Shiho, just to have few laughs
"I have an idea! What if we recreate our little game from childhood? It'll be nice to see Shii's surprise face again~"
✧ Shiho on the other hand, if you're the same as your twin, will sigh pretty often since now she has not one... but two over caring siblings!!
✧ but other than that and little time when she was cold to you... she learned to get used to it more or less!
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@bleachtheidiot @qwnelisa @miya-akane @miguelito-maruti-blog - come get your beautiful model~
✧ Tsukasa as your twin is certainly something... he's quite loud and when you two are almost the same? It leads to some interesting scenarios...
✧ for starters, you probably share a room together... just a feeling, but you're definitely not getting any good sleep if you're night person
✧ and if both of you go to Kamiyama, prepare for his friends mostly Rui to often play with you a bit too
✧ if you two are the same when it comes to looks, it's even better because he sometimes gets into troubles, so teachers would come to you and start scolding you for something your brother did...
✧ and ones that really like their peace sometimes move away just in case, because they think you're Tsukasa...
✧ but if you're calm, people will definitely tease you, but mostly him that you're more mature than him!
"GOOD MORNING MY LOVELY TWIN!! WORLD'S WAITING FOR US TO SHINE!!! It's 5am now so it's time to SHIIINEE!!"
✧ as for Saki, she's gonna have just a bit of trouble telling you apart if you're 1:1
✧ and if you go to Miya, she's happy to have older sister in the same school! She's matching with Shii now!
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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bad-the-an-enjoyer @yulikesminori @alicewinterway18 @nenes-numberonefan @hakulivesformusic - come get your future star!!
✧ Emu is definitely someone to have as a sibling, and as twin it's only even more of an experience!
✧ if you're fem, I feel like both of you would attend to Miyamasuzaka! Who knows? Maybe even in the same class?
✧ before WxS, she definitely forced was asking you to join her at the Wonder Stage! Be it as performer or manager or anyone else you'd want to be!
✧ after WxS was formed tho, she stopped asking you so often to join her
✧ you also most definitely know her group and most likely get along with them rather well!
✧ you're like 5th secret member~
✧ but back to Emu! I feel like if you two have the same aplearence but totally different personalities, it'd be so funny
✧ especially if you two are females, because people at Miya would mistake you for another ALL THE TIME
✧ she'd definitely want to try trick her friends or family by suddenly switching clothes and pretending you're her just so she can surprise them with big "Wonderhoy" and see the shock on their face and hopefully few laughs too!
"And then we can switch clothes and brothers would neve- Oh please!! Just this once!! It won't be like other 37 times, I swear!"
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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @hayillaaaaaaa @miguelito-maruti-blog - come get your smiley girl!
#project sekai#colorful stage#x reader#project sekai x reader#colorful stage x reader#project sekai colorful stage#project sekai colorful stage x reader#saki tenma#shiho hinomori#shizuku hinomori#tsukasa tenma#emu otori#project sekai saki tenma#project sekai shiho hinomori#project sekai shizuku hinomori#project sekai tsukasa tenma#project sekai emu otori#platonic#project sekai platonic#headcanons#project sekai headcanons
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How did you get so good at drawing? And do you have any tips??? (Pls I'm a beginner help)
Honestly dude you never get good at art. It's sweet that people like my stuff but I still feel like most of it sucks and I think that's sort of an inherent part of drawing lmao. You've just gotta decide to keep doing it anyway because it matters to you
I do have a few tips for improving your technical drawing though:
Do figure sketching. If you can go to in-person life drawing classes that's great, and there'll usually be at least a few running if you live in a city/big town, but you can do it online too. Here are some websites I use: Line of Action / SketchDaily / Quick Poses. Try drawing with different lengths of time (so start with poses appearing for 30 seconds, then move up to 1 minute, then 2, then 5, then 10). Also don't feel too bad if the first few times you try it and the sketches don't turn out quite right or the proportions get messed up or you run out of time. It's part of the process & you'll improve the longer you keep at it. Just try to use longer & messier lines and don't focus on the details until you have basic shapes blocked out. (This is literally what I tell anyone who asks me for art advice because it's about the only drawing exercise I ever deliberately do lmao)
Draw real life subjects and not just from photos- it's more challenging but helps you develop your observation & sketching skills. This includes still life and landscapes/architecture as well as living things btw
Use references as much as you can. I suck at this but it'll genuinely make you improve faster if you do lmao. You can find loads of references on Google or DeviantArt but I also have some specific places I get them from: JookpubStock / Fat Photo Ref (requires registering but I can verify they're legit) / AdorkaStock / Teamwarchicken (actually my blog that I use for collecting images)
When you're learning to shade remember that you're shading a 3 dimensional object, and try to avoid just doing shading around the very edges of things. Same goes for highlights.
Try drawing in different styles and subjects you don't usually draw. If you can afford it try out different physical art materials too. It helps keep the art block at bay if nothing else lmao
Don't be a perfectionist. Learn to just say "good enough" and not obsess over mistakes. It's better to draw lots of slightly wonky things than one thing that you freaked out about getting perfect.
If anyone else has any other advice/resources then please add them! I do not know as much about art as people think I do hjfgjkhdf
#My secret tip though that may be controversial is that if you literally only want to draw one thing and don't care about improving-#-Then that's fine. Draw that thing. You don't need to be The Best you just have to like what you're doing#personal#asks#anon#Also like don't obsess over finding “a style” it's more than okay to be inconsistent with the way you draw things#You don't need a brand lmao#I have a lot more I could say but it's hard to condense it into a post so this is what you get. Hope it's ok lmao
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not your original "twin speak" anon, but to add, i remember this one interview after as and pw just got married and it was mentioned that he was talking to the interviewer for a long time, and as was like, 8 hours?? i don't think i could talk to you for that long before she goes back to wherever. or that time he described his wedding and getting not-jitters but just being zoned out. this isn't a diss on as, and i dont think i make much sense but. i think pw mentions "twin speak" when he talked about her because that's what in his vocabulary and he wanted to romanticize her (and isn't that funny it's the same thing he says with...anyway), but that time of his life wasnt all that peachy. what's obvious is that he wanted to be in love so badly.
Oh, anon, you are opening a can of worms for me and I am HERE for it.
Because…yes. “He wanted to romanticize her,” and “he wanted to be in love so badly,” could be entire thesis statements.
I have a lot of thoughts on the Pete/Ashlee relationship, but it boils down to - anyone who was paying attention and/or actually looks at all the details of that time would see it’s very likely that this relationship at least STARTED as PR. All the signs and set up were there.
At the core of it, Ashlee was continuously striving to edge-up her image to set herself apart from Jessica. She was also still trying to come back from the SNL incident. The Simpson family was HUGE at the time and very few of those girls’ actions weren’t carefully calculated by their father, Joe. Like, both girls had reality shows and for what? This was like the equivalent of the Kardashians then, and Joe was Kris Jenner.
(Side note - this is why the idea that Pete “held Ashlee back” or negatively impacted her career is…odd. She already ruined her own career with the SNL thing in 2004. She was getting HUGE at that point, and it was genuinely a disaster. People would NOT let that go. Getting with Pete was a continued attempt to claw back from that and he genuinely had nothing to do with it.)
Simultaneously, Fall Out Boy was absolutely MASSIVE, and all eyes were on Pete. He was attractive, charismatic, and was the poster boy for what was “hot” at the time. Pete was also…not in his best mental state for most of it. His interview answers and journals point to someone who just wants to feel “normal” and like he’s doing things “right” for once.
It’s also heavily alluded that his label was pushing this as well. Hollywood and fame at the level they were at requires strategic calculation, and Pete’s adjacent obsession with “protecting” the band and being the perfect frontman likely made him agreeable to their suggestions. (“Put love on hold, young Hollywood is on the other line”)
The fact that there were suddenly several points where Pete says “Ashlee Simpson” as his celebrity crush or whatever in interviews and then they’re spotted together…? That shit isn’t real life. Especially not in the Simpson household. Especially not for Pete Wentz circa 2007.
Were they attracted to each other? Totally. Obviously. They have a child. But were they in LOVE LOVE and good for each other? Fuck no. Not at all. Their shotgun wedding due to Bronx was Pete doing the “right thing” and getting that “normal guy wife and kids” fantasy he’d been desperate for. I’m sure the Simpson family also had much influence, but by no means am I saying Pete didn’t go into that willingly. He made his mistakes, they were his to make. Ya know? Hehe
I’m also not saying anyone is a villain here. They were all pawns in a money game, and everyone is a loser when that’s the case. In retrospect, it was obviously good in ways that Bronx exists and helped Pete start to realize the mess his life had become. Both he and Ashlee moved on to different people who they seem much happier with and better suited for. Luckily everyone made it through to healthier places. That’s unfortunately not the case for many.
So there’s a novel just to agree with you, anon! It was such an odd and sad time for Pete, and I’m glad he was able to put the pieces together into something objectively more settled, healthy, and joyful.
(And, ok, just a few disclaimers: Before anyone is like “you’re just saying all this because you have truther mold” - genuinely, for me, you can take Patrick completely out of the equation and I would still think this. I thought this back when it was HAPPENING.
Also, you can totally believe their relationship was disingenuous and unhealthy and that doesn’t have to equate to hating Ashlee/women? Not sure where that idea came from…maybe there’s some other fandom trauma there or something…but that’s genuinely not the case for me at least. You can totally dislike something and not have some…morally questionable reason behind it. Nuance and context, babes. They’re beautiful things.)
#I’m prepared to get vagued to hell and back about this but whatever#I’m right#and tired of the slander re: pete and Ashlee#interesting how people see a woman having a child as being ‘ruined’ very feminist of you#ANYWAY!#anon asks#mm yappings#pete wentz#ashlee simpson
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