#and i need to style the fur belt better and find a way to make the swords hang from there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iamdarkness · 3 years

Text

After the Storm

My Birthday gift for Alfonse's Day. I am one day late because I didn't know about it.

NSFW 18+

Lif x Summoner. A little bit of Alfonse x Summoner x Lif .

This can take place after the summoner is rescued and back in the castle. It also may or may not be part of To Feed a Tiger and Letters From Fodlan. It is all up to you.

He was standing right there, just in front of you….so close…and yet so far away. Dark blue hair and silver-ish tips swaying over his ruby red eyes, while he slowly approached you. His gauntleted hand reached slowly for you face. It was cold and smooth as leather, the metal fingernails not reaching your skin, he had made sure of that.

-We meet again. I thought you would not want to return.- You say and your face lean on his touch.

-I had to see it for my self…See you. That you were safe and sound. - He answers softly with that oh so deep voice that never fails to make you sway where you stand. It is true his voice had made you tremble from the first time you had heard it, he did not know it was not from fear. He had touched your soul from the beginning and drew you in like a moth to a flame. And what a magnificent flame he was.

The moonlight bathes you both in cool silver light, but you find the glow of his body a more compelling sight. You knew how insecure he had always been and knew that now he thought himself a hideous monster. If only he could see himself through your eyes; how beautiful you found him. You touch his face and you can hear the intake of breath he takes. His mask slips from his face and he tries to turn away. You use your other hand to turn it to face you.

-You are so gorgeous Alfonse.

-No I’m…

-No. You are gorgeous to me. I love you so much…- He looks down at you searchingly with knitted brows, expecting to find deception. How can someone like you find someone like him, attractive. He doesn’t understand and he doesn’t want your pity. Yet he finds only love in your eyes and even more than that. He can see desire and this surprises him and dare he hope?- Alfonse! Why are you like this? Why can’t you understand that to me, you are amazing and sexy! Your intellect and your skills and god Alfonse you learned a whole new sword style! You are so amazing. Even before, you always thought I liked other men better and…

-That was before…but now…

-Alfonse! No matter what shape you have, you are still my Alfonse and I find you gorgeous. Don’t you remember what I sang to you the first time we were together?I still love your precious heart …-You gasp. You were not suppose to say that and he catches on quick as smart as he is. He knows this Askr’s Alfonse and you had never been together. It had only been Death’s first attack; that had given Alfonse, now Lif the courage to leave all formalities behind and you had become lovers for the last weeks of your life. The words from that song had stayed with him and kept the little sanity he still had. His eyes blaze with that inner fire you had seen when he is either very angry or very exited. The deepest of passions have always lay hidden within him; restrained by the weight of his position and reputation. Lif had neither of those restrains.

-________. You are my _______!My Summoner!- There were so many feelings passing through his mind. He was surprised and happy and so angry too. He wanted to laugh and cry, but he also wanted to yell at you and hurt you. How could you not tell him the truth after everything you both had gone through? Did you prefer to stay by Alfonse’s side instead? Do you love him more? Is it because of how he looks? Of course you would prefer to stay with him. Whole as he is and not a monster like him.He was alive and could give you everything he always dreamed of giving you. He does not realize it, but the same hand that was caressing your face was now squeezing hard enough to hurt and his nails beginning to scratch.- Why did you not tell me this? Do you..

-I am not sure how it went. I lost my memories of my life in our Askr. I didn’t know and I did not want to hurt you and Alfonse. I know it has something to do with Breidablik. All the memories started coming when I was using it or when I was asleep.

There is a silence in which he looks deeply into your eyes. He sees no deceit in them but he has been hurt so much, he doesn’t dare believe. He sights and his head lowers to rest on your forehead. He did not think he would be able to cry any more ever, but he feels the wetness roll down his face.

-I wanted to heal you, not hurt you. I was willing to let you go and help you from afar but you never let me.

-I am here now…- He did not mentioned he was not letting you go now. He had given up his hope of saving his own people to help this Askr, and he was not going to give you up too. He kissed you now, deeply and full of need. The restrains now gone. Your hand lets his mask fall to the ground and you embrace him. He forgets he needs not breathe and you do need it and his kiss last so long you feel dizzy. You make to let go but he follows with a moan of protest that was almost a whine.

- Air…-You say and smile, while peppering his face with butterfly kisses. He gives you a low growl in return and kisses your neck instead. It gains him a moan he returns in kind. He hears your whispered plea and stiffens. He separates to look you in the eyes.

-Here?- He asks and he sounds scandalized. Nothing really changes.

-You do not remember that kitchen cupboard? Or the tactics tent after the meeting?- He splutters and turns a little away. It might just be you, but it looks like his light brightens.- They were not my ideas either.- You add and take this time to slip your hand under his belt close to where his abs can be felt by your knuckles.

-I remember.- He turns to you and takes his time looking at you. Then he close his eyes and takes his hands off your face to undo the clasps that hold his fur cloak. He lays it on the moon bathed grass and looks at you again.- Are you sure?- You nod. He steels himself and adds.- I…it is all of my body and half my face as you can see…

-Alfonse…I am not afraid of you or your glowing body. I find it perfectly amazing. Here, let me help you...-You tell him and go to help him take off his armor. He stops you and just takes his top hard armor as if by magic and is left with some low cut under armor pants and boots. You take a long look at him. As you had seen before, he had grown a lot. His chest and back were broader and even though you could see his bones there was a light in all of him that did not let you see through him. You could see his shape as If he was very muscular as well.

You were aware that you were staring, but you could not take your eyes away from him. He was so perfect. There was an intake of breath that was more a reflex than a necessity. He must have seen the desire in your gaze when you looked him in the eyes.-God Alfonse! Have you no idea what you do to me?

His shyness relents with your confession and he reaches up to you and kisses you deeply again. His hands roams your back. He kisses you until he reaches under your night shirt and you feel him lift the fabric. You are wearing nothing under and he caresses your skin on his way to lifting it off of you. When it is off, he looks down to you perked up breast. They had hardened with need and the night breeze. You feel his heated gaze on you as it explores once again your chest. His hands take hold of you pants as he pulls them down he leaves a trail of kisses down to your hip.

He gets up again kissing your body up to your neck. Your thigh, hip, lower abdomen, belly, between your breasts, chest, neck. All the while his hands trail up your side and back, like the sweet caress of flower petals.

His mouth reaches yours and his right hand takes your breast and squeezes gently, gaining a moan from you. He hungrily kisses you harder and starts lowering you down to where his fur cloak waits for you. You feel the weight of his body, the firmness of his glowing skin, soft and cool against your heated one. You shiver, not precisely because of the cold. It had been so long since you wanted to touch him and be touched by him. So long since you wanted to tell him how much you love him and how much you needed him.

He has taken your panties off along with his pants and now his head is between your tights and he kisses your womanhood. His tongue starts twirling around the pearl of your clitoris. His sparkling red eyes find yours as he gives a growly moan.

-Already so wet for me ______. Tell me how much you want me.- He licks at you. You had forgotten this man went from hiding his face out of bashfulness to pounding you vigorously into the mattress. He was a possessive, kinky, dominant lover with the drive to make love to you all night and the daring to take you in the riskiest of places.

-Oh …I want you please! I need you! I have waited so long for you! Mmm…aah- He introduces a finger inside you and then the second. You see him smirk while you moan and squirm.- Oh please! - His fingers go in and out in a merciless rhythm while he bites the inside of your legs, your hips, your stomach, suck at your breast and then bites you neck.- Aah …Alfonse please!- He growls at that.

-Not Alfonse!Alfonse is a child! Say my name! Say it!

-Mmmm Aaah! Lif! Lif Please! I can’t…I …- He has you seeing stars and the way he talks to you in your ear is enough to make you come. You shudder and moan his name again.

-Yes. Come for me ______- You are still shivering when you feel him lift your leg and position himself between your legs.- Are you ready for me?- He asks in your ear; then bites it. This ignites the fire within you once again.

-Yes. Please. I need you.

He looks into your eyes. -We will become one. Do you accept me? Will you be mine once again? Will you re-new our vows? - He asks, his voice full of emotion make your heart melt. You feel this moment as if this was a promise. Your wedding night. No going back. Your eyes water. How can you say not to him. The love of your life. Once you had pledged to be with him in a” till death do us part” promise. Now you knew he had gone beyond death and so had you. If there was a” for ever”; you wanted it to be with him.

-Yes. Only you. For ever.

He kisses you; tenderly this time and just as tenderly you fell him enter you. Here ,now while his hips moved so sensually against you, and he kisses you like it is the fist time; you feel him become Alfonse once again. The man that had asked you once, to promise him to never leave him. The man who had promised to never be with anyone else but you. The man who had said his wedding vows before making love to you for the first time, because there was no time to have a wedding.

He moves inside you while he utters your name like a mantra, proclaiming you as his. You respond to him that yes, you are his and cling to him for dear life because this is too much, too fast for you. Soon enough you feel the pressure build inside you and you climax again. He stops a second and gives a small rumble of a laugh.

-My _____. As passionate as ever. -He feels you shiver against his flesh and your moan of release was silenced with a long kiss. Suddenly while still kissing you he starts moving, but this time faster to reach his release. His moans are, so sensual to your ears.-You are so warm. Come for me again dearest! Come for me! Only for me!

-Oh Lif you feel so good! You are so good! - He came undone with this. He bit your neck long and hard enough to bruise and you came again right there alongside him, while he reached into the deepest part of you and you call his name.

You both ride your high clinging to each other, entangled like ivy. Your hands roam his strong back in a soothing motion. He hides his face in the crock of your neck and you hear his whispered plea.

-Run away with me. - Oh how you wish you could. You hug him tighter.

-I gave him my word. I will leave with you once the war ends.-You tell him.

-You can not return to him after this. Stay with me.

- I gave you my word. I am yours, but I need to save this Askr. I can not fail twice. I will not. I swore to you to serve you till death and I did. I will fulfill my promise to him and I will return to you. Please let me do this. If we play this right we can save this world and return ours to life.

-Ours.- he says with emotion.- I knew you would say this.- He kisses you and then he kisses your ear. Once he is close enough he whispers.

-The gods are plotting to end us. They specifically want to end Alfonse’s line. I am working with them to find their weakness. -He makes a shushing notice when he feels you stiffening.- Do not tell him anything, but prepare. Trouble comes and it comes fast.- He kisses you again and then he keeps on whispering.- I will come to you. I promise.

He separates from you and say coldly. - So you will not come with me?

-No. I… I am sorry Lif.- You play along. He just nods and gets up. You are left there feeling cold and empty. He starts dressing up and you do the same. Once you both are again standing dressed and ready to leave; he takes your cheek in his hand and with the other he touches the bruise left on your neck.

-Does he know where you are?

-Yes.

-Now he will know who you belong to. Although this will not deter him, I know him well enough to understand this.- He sighs and turns to leave.- Until we see each other again Summoner.

He does not turn around and he is gone.

~*~

You stand looking out of the window. Children run around laughing in the garden. A strand of hair comes undone from your bun and tickles your cheek. You feel a hand take the graying strands to tuck it behind your ear. You turn to see deep blue eyes watching you fondly. Alfonse’s blue hair is graying too. He looks out the window and smiles. Among your grandchildren a tall figure stands up (1). Lif’s dark blue hair swaying in the winds while he talks to a young man that looks remarkably like a young Alfonse. He looks down to a child clinging to his left leg. A blond haired and greed eyed girl of around five years. He picked her up and she giggled. His face turns to look at you and his crimson eyes twinkle in the sunlight. There is happiness and love in them. You blow him a kiss and Alfonse chuckles at your side.

With how endless you had felt the war, you never thought you could reach a happy ending and here you were. In that moment; there was only happiness.

1. It is my belief that anyone as a summoner would find that there were a lot of casualties of war and many orphaned kids. Used to so much people in the castle and with most of the heroes gone; the summoner opened up an orphanage and ended up adopting some of the kids, along side of whoever she married. At the end it is not only her biological grandchildren, but also the kids of her adopted ones.

#feh #feh fan fiction #feh alfonse x summoner #feh alfonse x reader #feh alfonse x kiran #feh lif #feh lif reader #feh lif x summoner #feh lif x reader #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem heroes #alfonse x summoner x lif #feh lif x kiran #feh kiran #feh summoner #fire emblem fanfiction #kiralfonse

35 notes · View notes

proudfreakmetarusonikku · 3 years

Text

@sajdd

Ok since one singular person asked for this the Big Explanation for Everything In My C!Tommy Design.

General:

c!Tommy, in general, I always try and find a balance between my really soft style and c!Tommy's rougher personality. I draw him with soft features but very sharp eyes, both to make his facial features distinct from cc!Tommy and a contrast to c!Tubbo who I draw with less rounded features but much softer eyes. I try and keep his usual expressions slightly smug and self-assured, to get across c!Tommy's bravado.

I generally draw him with tanned skin, as I imagine he’d spend a lot of time outdoors. This does vary on the arc I’m drawing him in, though, for example he’s much less tan in Pogtopia because he has less access to natural light whereas he’s more tan in exile due to not having much shelter from the sun. This is also done to make the pale scar on his nose bridge more noticeable- it’s one of the two scars I draw Tommy as having from the beginning, as I feel it shows c!Tommy's scrappy, determined personality very well. The other scar is a long jagged vivisection scar which is there to show my labinnit headcanon lol.

While I draw c!Tommy with varying hairstyles and lengths, I always draw him with curly textured hair that’s a very pale blond. I also draw his hair as leaning to one side and partially covering his eye, similar to how I draw c!Wilbur's hair, to show their closeness. I also draw c!Tommy with similar wings to c!Wilbur and c!Philza- specifically, I draw them with the same starry night sky pattern I do with c!Philza, but a lot smaller and atrophied.

I really like putting lots of fun design elements in characters eyes because drawing eyes is fun and c!Tommy is no exception! I draw his eyes a very bright electric blue, and I use a small brush and very light varied colours to make them look like they’re filled with little stars. I also give him red pupils to match his main colour association in either the shape of a full or broken heart depending on the arc. I went with a heart design to show his hidden kindness and loyalty.

There’s also a lot of design elements that are admittedly there primarily because I enjoy drawing them, and less for any specific reason. The fangs do have the most reason, to help show c!Tommy's rougher personality, but I also just like drawing fangs lol. (I also draw him with braces in every arc, since I imagine he couldn’t get them removed in exile and he didn’t have the time to care afterwards). I also draw him with bioluminescent, starlike freckles and a strange blood colour which is also used to help texture the skin (well, slightly, it’s not super noticeable but it’s pink instead of red) which are both just things I like to draw.

Also, this is a small detail, but I always draw c!Tommy with a Church Prime necklace (unless I forget it which I do sometimes lol). It’s a good way of showing his faith through a quick look.

Fun fact, what’s probably most noticeable about my c!Tommy design is that as soon as Tommy made the joke about his character being made in a lab I picked it up and ran with it, specifically the idea of him potentially being a clone of c!Philza. I draw them with identical facial features and hair colour/texture, though a lot of the more supernatural features of c!Philza are toned down on him. That’s specifically because due to my hc that c!Philza is an angel and angels as ageless it’d be impossible to clone them exactly so c!Tommy has some random human/hybrid dna thrown in haphazardly (which also makes him a mess of instincts from pretty much every animal ever lol)

Disc War:

I really like the headcanon that c!Tommy was nine during the L'Manburg war entirely because its really funny to imagine c!Wilbur looking at this literal nine year old and being “yes, my right hand man, responsible enough to help manage a nation in my stead,” so c!Tommy is roughly 9ish around this time in my design.

During the early Disc War is probably the only time I actually draw c!Tommy as close to his actual Minecraft skin lmao. It helps show that, despite the fact I don’t hc him as human he is mostly just a normal kid. I don’t draw c!Tommy in the traditional red and white t-shirt entirely just because I want to make sure he’s not mistakable for Dave Strider though. I have him in a white button-up shirt, a red and white hoodie, cargo pants, and trainers.

During this arc, I draw c!Tommy's hair as fairly short and very similar to how I draw c!Wilbur, as this was back when he idolised his brother and I think drawing their hair so similar shows that well.

L'Manburg:

This covers the time from the beginning of the L'Manburg war up to c!Tommy's second exile to Pogtopia, so this design covers a period of years from when I hc c!Tommy was nine up until about thirteen.

During the war, c!Tommy wears his uniform without modification, except for of course wearing his Prime necklace, but afterwards he and the rest of the residents of L'Manburg (except c!Wilbur) slightly modified their uniforms to better fit their own tastes. Specifically, he wears his trainers instead of combat boots, loose trousers instead of shorts, and a slightly shorter and short-sleeved revolutionary jacket, for easier mobility.

During the war, his two canon deaths left him permanent injuries and scars. His death in the final control room, where he broke his leg during his desperate attempt to escape, left that leg permanently weakened (along with being badly scarred) and requiring a leg brace to help him stand and walk properly. The arrow through his skull during his duel with c!Dream left him with a large scar on his temple, covering his brows in crack-like scars which also leave him with frequent migraines.

During the L'Manburg arc, c!Tommy's hair in my design still looks like c!Wilburs as they were still close during this arc.

Pogtopia:

Since Pogtopia apparently lasted two years (which is probably from Cursed Timeline Lore but I love cursed lore it’s hilarious,) c!Tommy would be around 13 to 15 here.

In Pogtopia, I draw c!Tommy as wearing similar clothes to during the Disc War arc, however, I also add on a loose belt holding knives, to show c!Tommy's increased need for self defence along with his fondness for knives lol. I actually don’t do the bandanna design with c!Tommy and c!Tubbo a lot of people do mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work with c!Tommy's hoodie. They have an equivalent but it’s later on alas.

As c!Tommy and c!Wilbur get more distant, c!Tommy grows out his hair slightly, and wears it tied in the back in a short ponytail.

Exile:

Oh I have a lot of things to talk about here >:). As a quick note to my messed up timeline, c!Tommy would be 15 here.

During exile, c!Tommy wears the same clothes as he did in Pogtopia initially, though due to lack of care and supplies, they eventually of course fray and rip. He also wears c!Wilbur's old ragged longcoat, even though it barely keeps out the cold, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes weirdly comforting. Over time, he rips up his shirt for bandages to the point he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. His leg brace breaks and he makes a new one out of branches and leaves. (He could ask c!Dream, but he doesn’t want to be fucking reliant on him, relying on pity handouts like a child, so he won’t.)

Eventually, since c!Dream doesn’t exactly want c!Tommy to get hypothermia and die anticlimactically, he gives c!Tommy one of his capes. This is one of my favourite character design decisions I’ve made lmao. I specifically draw it looking too-big, despite the fact that doesn’t make much sense because they’re the same height, so it looks almost like he’s getting enveloped in c!Dream's green shades, and it also hides c!Tommy's wings which helps reinforce the loss of freedom.

c!Tommy gains… a lot of scars over exile. I mean he was literally hit by an axe multiple times. Specifically they’re primarily around the shoulders or the torso. I also draw him with a Glasgow grin, specifically curved to resemble Dream's mask, along with smaller, self inflicted, scratch and bite marks covering his arms. In addition, due to him barely eating I draw c!Tommy from this point onwards looking very scrawny. This is also where c!Tommy's pupils change from hearts to broken hearts! They never turn back :)

During exile, Tommy's hair grows out a lot, down to just past his shoulders, in a matted mess. c!Dream used to braid it at the back, like how I draw c!Dream's own hair, but it very quickly grew too matted with saltwater, mud, and blood to style :) :) :)

Bedrock Bros:

c!Tommy turns sixteen here during my scuffed timeline.

c!Tommy patches up the rips and tears in his clothes. He can’t fully salvage his cargo trousers, so he turns them into shorts. He makes his own shoes out of leather to replace the ones he lost. There’s a gaping hole in his hoodie pocket that couldn’t be stitched up. He'll patch it up later. c!Techno gives him one of his capes to keep him warm, fur lined and arctic blue with silvery snowflakes embroidered on. c!Tommy has to be reminded, or he puts on the green cape, turned a dull viridian from the sun, that makes him feel both safe and so, so afraid.

Scars heal, but never fully fade. Still, his eyes brighten again, somewhat, even if the bags under his eyes less disappear and more just turn a strange gold. He finally has the time to clean out his hair, and c!Techno ties it into a short, loose braid at the back. With the cape, he almost looks like c!Techno like that. Obviously, the visual implication here is to show that even though it’s obviously not exile, c!Techno is still suppressing c!Tommy's identity, albeit unknowingly (and the gold is from his constant eating of golden apples).

Final Disc War:

By this point, c!Tommy's back to just wearing his old clothes, tattered and frail as they might be. He finds his old sneakers, and day by day he sees himself in the mirror a bit more than the gunpowder on a battered trenchcoat, blood on a smiley face mask, wither rot on the edges of an elaborate snowy cape. He patches the hole in his hoodie with a piece of the fabric from one of c!Tubbo's old shirts. He lends him one of his too-small hoodies so he can do the same.

He still braids his hair, but in his own way, in a tightly woven ratstail braid more for convenience than for aesthetics. Character design wise, it’s another way to show c!Tommy's openly rougher personality than say, c!Dream or c!Techno, and so’s the patchwork clothes and rough shorts and scars. Like I said, maintaining a mix of rough and soft is very important to me in how I draw c!Tommy, and I’m very satisfied with how I pull it off here and in the next entry.

Revival:

the story has handed me the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead. i will not pass up the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead.

After revival, c!Tommy stops aging, at least in appearance. His skin… less pale, more colourless and almost grey. One of his eyes glows a pure, empty white now, like ghosts do, and the white messy streak in his hair doesn’t glow but it’s white enough it might as well.

The injuries of his death bear apparent on his form. His limbs can bend at impossible angles, his entire body covered head to toe in bruises. Two black eyes cover his face like a raccoon mask, and the ugly mottled marks of strangulation on his throat stand out like a sore thumb. You cannot look at him anymore and not see that he hasn’t died. He avoids mirrors again.

There’s stranger things, too, like how he doesn’t bleed anymore, any cuts just revealing an impossibly dark void beneath his marble-cold skin. Sometimes he goes weeks without eating, the hunger only hitting once he realises. He feels so tired, so cold, in a way not even the touch of fire can stem at all. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, or breathe.

Initially, he was too tired, too out of it to even consider cutting off or dying the white streak. When he wasn’t, he’d soon learn any attempts were futile, dye fading in mere days, cut off hair half regrown in a week. It should bother him more, but he just feels numb.

#dream smp #dsmp #c!tommy #tw abuse #tw mutilation #tw scars #tw bruises #tw death #tw child death #tw murder #tw child murder

38 notes · View notes

loosesodamarble · 3 years

Note

☕️ fashion in your favorite series (plural)

Hello there, anon!

And oh boy is that a topic!

I think I should start with the fact that I know basically nothing about fashion. I basically only wear jeans, t-shirts, and occasionally blouses day-to-day and my fanciest clothes are Sunday best.

But onto the actual fashion.

I think my favorite series with the best fashion sense would have to be Avatar: the Last Airbender. The clothes come from various Asian cultures and are so aesthetically pleasing. And while not 100% practical, they are not illogical fashion choices.

(Sorry about the different in quality. Couldn't be helped.)

I mean, look at their fits! Color consistency with characters from the same nation. Blues and grays for the Water Tribe. Warm tones (mostly red but pink in Ty Lee's case) and black for Fire Nation. While Earth Kingdom and Air Nomad both share yellow, at least between Toph and Aang, the saturation/shade is different. Aang's yellow and orange aren't overwhelmingly bright shades and the brown on his outfit provides a neutral shade to bring it all together.

Seriously, Avatar has some amazing fashion!

.....

Another series with good fashion sense, though more for symbolism, is Demon Slayer.

With Demon Slayer 99% of the time, the characters are all in uniform with just haoris or capes to distinguish them. Still, the patterns that they wear on their clothes sets them apart.

https://olafolsson.com/blogs/blog-1/wagara-traditional-japanese-patterns-and-designs

This blog post explains a few types of designs/patterns used in Japanese clothing. Nezuko's kimono has a hemp leaf pattern which represents protection from evil spirits, which she both gives to the defenseless and receives from Tanjirou. Tanjirou's checkered haori carries meaning such as "prosperity for descendants" which make sense since the checkered pattern has been with the Kamado family since Sumiyoshi and the siblings do manage to have their own descendants.

Inosuke may not wear a haori but he wears different types of fur.

Boars are wild and stubborn. Bears are strong and sturdy. Deer are beautiful and nimble. All those words can be used to describe Inosuke as well.

The clothes in Demon Slayer may not have a lot of variety but the meaning behind what the characters do wear shouldn't be ignored.

.....

My Hero Academia's fashion is fine. I mean, the U.A. uniforms do give an air of sophistication with the button-ups and jackets. Although there are still the unrealistically short skirts. And when the characters are shown in street clothes, the outfits are varied and some are quite pleasing in my opinion.

Personal favorites are Itsuka and Hitoshi's because they're simple with little flares like the collar or stripes. Shows that they don't put too much thought into their outfits but still put effort into it.

(And yes, I am just using this as an opportunity to show off that I have manga in the original Japanese.)

I won't really talk about the Hero costumes because that's a whole other can of worms that's strongly influenced by the characters' desire to be flashy and marketable. Practicality isn't considered that much from what I can tell. I will say this though: none of the students' costumes are good (aesthetically, practically, or even both) when you take a real close look at them. I think the adults are better, though not perfect.

.....

Black Clover is... One of the servers I'm in has a channel called "fashion police" for a reason. In this medieval fantasy setting, the fantasy is turned up all the way while medieval is low.

Just look at the Black Bulls.

Lightning round.

-Henry's in his pajamas, enough said. -Gordon is in some military uniform that we don't see anywhere else. -Yami's dressed like a bum. -The pads on Gauche's elbows and knees distract me and the lines on his pants and boots?! -Zora is basically Eijirou's Hero costume but worse (and there are already problems with that). -Finral is fine for the most but I think the boots need adjusting. -Vanessa's issue is that it's so much of one color (yes the hat ribbon and grimoire bag add another color but I personally feel like it isn't enough). -I think I have a shirt exactly like Luck's which isn't a good sign and his grimoire bag's placement also deducts points. -Noelle's outfit is illogical and inappropriate for her age. -Grey's is sensible for the most part (like how the shoe straps match the belt) but I think the divide of blue and white should be lower, maybe at stomach level. -Secre is in a ballet dress and could use shoes and a couple accessories to make her design less barren. -Charmy dresses like a grade schooler and it suits her size but, eh, I think a cute blouse could work too. -And although Nacht isn't pictured above, I have a slight issue with all his belts and that stupid high collar.

I think Magna and Asta (pre-Heart Kingdom training. Post-Heart makes me a sad mama) have the best outfits. They've got simple outfits with little details that prevent them from being completely plain. And honestly, I could see real people wearing those fits.

And it's not just them!

I mean! Why are there holes in Solid and Nozel's pants? Where are Noelle's pants?! Why do all the older siblings have such crusty looking hair?! Why do the fire Vermillions all wearing the same thing (seriously aside from jacket lengths and shoes styles, they are all wearing the same thing)?! Why can't the Golden Dawn have consistent cape colors?! Charlotte's breastplate and helmet make no sense and Sol's outfit is barely existent!

.....

Whew, I think I burned myself out with that one! Didn't think I'd go so hard, especially at the end. I legitimately surprised myself with that.

Hopefully you don't find my ranting too off-putting, anon. I just put all my thoughts out where without much of a filter.

#questions from the ask box #soda asides #avatar the last airbender #demon slayer #my hero academia #black clover #long post #sorry for an essay of a response anon #this question just ignited something in me #and i thank you for that whoever you are

26 notes · View notes

mysmegrace · 3 years

Note

hey love, how are you? i was wondering if you could do mc (any gender) and 707 going on a dinner date:)

hello love, i'm excellent (bc of u). of course i can, anything for you :3 i've decided to use they/them pronouns in this fic so it's easier for people to insert their own pronouns and gendered language as well as it being applicable to more people yknow. anyway i hope i did this justice <3

summary: saeyoung and mc got out to dinner to end the day. unbeknown to mc, saeyoung has a surprise to ask you.

words: 1.8k

Elly The Fourth (707 x MC)

---

you knew saeyoung had a tendency of being late, sometimes he’d even push it to the 15-20 minute mark. you vividly remember telling him about it in the past, but you two always came to an agreement. after all, you couldn’t stay mad when he’d grab the cat ears he had laying around, putting them on while puckering his lips to express false innocence.

however, he had failed to hold up your previous agreement of “if you are to be late, let me know beforehand”. passing a new number on the clock every time you looked up, the restaurant continued to populate with no sign of the man you longed for. boy would you let him have it this time.

you needed something new as a form of punishment. something that would make him stick to your agreements. maybe the silent treatment, or perhaps you’d whip him with the belt he spent a ridiculous amount of money on? “wait no... that wouldn’t end well on my end” you thought as your memories reminded you of his sadistic nature.

while trying to come to a consensus, the vermillion haired man entered the establishment. showing off his typical goofy, yet tender, smile as he eyed your sitting position down. you could hear the clicking of his shoes coming closer, but paid no attention as you had heard that the entire evening from strangers surrounding you.

“boo!” you hear suddenly, almost springing out of your seat, partially convinced your heart would jump out of your chest for a split second. however you had no time to take in sudden scare as your body instantly started to heat up. he arrived 25 minutes late and has the audacity to make his grand entrance by frightening you?

being met with silence on his end, he decides to quickly break the tension. “sorry i’m late, it was an accident” he says, only telling half of the truth. it was an accident in the fact that he was late and didn’t intend on being, but wasn’t an accident in the sense that he knew what he was doing beforehand.

however, he would keep that a secret until the time was right. surprises are better if they’re unexpected after all. snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed how your lips haven’t dared to move in the few minutes he’s been here. trying to come up with ways to lighten the mood while getting a response from you, he says “i’m really sorry. please forgive me and talk to me. it was for a good reason, i promise. you’ll find out soon enough”.

watching as your eyes softened and your posture lightened exactly when he was now eye level with you, he takes it as a sign to continue on with the original plan. only hoping your body language was from you being convinced by his words rather than because of your growing disappointment towards him. going to take the seat across from you, you answer “saeyoung, we’ve talked about this. why were you so late?”.

“babe, i can’t tell you yet. it’s a secret, please understand. let’s enjoy what i have planned for now and we can talk about it later, please?” he answered quickly, not giving a moment for him to accidently spill the beans. after a few seconds, he saw the look on your face as you decided to give into his proposal and make amends later.

for the next hour, tonight would strictly be about you two. he loves nothing more. once you give your verbal agreement, he gives back a small smile. one that reads of gratitude. calling the waiter over, you both receive your menus.

the food all looked so good, but it wasn’t something he’d want everyday. that kind of taste isn’t much appealing to him. after all, he only chose the restaurant because of your open wish to eat there one day. hence why in classic saeyoung style, he decided on honey garlic chicken wings. commoner food, as jumin would say. honey garlic chicken wings, honey buddha chips, close enough.

on the contrary, you were in awe at the food selection. as long as you ate a few things off the menu, you could die happy. yet shock consumed you when your eyes glided across to check out the price. it was incredibly expensive. guilt started eating you up by the second.

you couldn’t ask him to get you something, it was simply too much. your conscience wouldn’t let you. unbeknownst to you, saeyoung noticed your sudden distress. he could read you like the back of his hand. “what’s the matter?” he asked.

taken aback, you responded “well.. everythings so expensive.” you had tried to mask your emotions in the moment, but to no avail. you should’ve known better than to think your love wouldn’t have his eyes on you 24/7.

saeyoung could sense that was the issue. you had always been hesistant about spending other peoples money, however that just made him love you more. attempting to calm your worries, he says “don’t worry about it. you know i get paid well”.

you paused, thinking about his statement. “i know, but you should put that money towards savings. after all your work is illegal” you respond, after giving it a half-assed thought. your eyes peered up to find the love of your life smirking, just before replying “pshh, laws are just words on a paper”.

you had to admit, that was a playful thing for him to say. so far he had succeeded in his plans of lightening the mood, it being confirmed when you returned his reply with a giggle. god he loved hearing that giggle.

calling the waiter over again, you two placed your orders. meaning now you both were participating in the waiting game. in saeyoung’s mind, this was a perfect opportunity. he would have at least 20 minutes to explain everything he had been planning to.

so, he starts to go for it. opening by saying “so, about why i was late earlier.” now he had your full attention as you were dying to hear his reasoning so you could decide whether or not an ass whooping would be an acceptable punishment for this evenings occurrence.

“i had booked an appointment to sign some paperwork, but the appointment got moved 30 minutes. i didn’t have a choice but to leave you waiting. and i was too caught up in the moment to let you know beforehand” he continued, giving you a second to take in his words.

yet your mind began racing with questions. what paperwork? why did he need an appointment? why would he plan it for today? you left no time to waste before you let the questions out, not wanting to waste a single second.

perfect, he thought. you were going along with what he had planned out to happen beforehand. giving you your much deserved answers, he continues “well, i needed to do it today so i could give you a proper surprise. i never want you to be in any unnecessary stress, hence why i did everything in advance.”

he left you hanging for no more than a second. he loved being able to see the face you made while you were practically on the edge of your seat. he also loved the dramatic effect, the one he’d never be able to nail unless he were an experience actor. nevertheless, it was fun to try.

so to finish his statement, he lets the secret free, exclaiming “since we both have an undying love for cats, i’ve decided to adopt one. we pick her up tomorrow” giving a genuine, ever so loving, smile at the end of the long awaited sentence.

focused on your end of the table, his heart nearly exploded seeing your face go from suspense to pure joy. he couldn’t ask for anything more. you had began to let out an excited scream, only to contain yourself once the table next to you started to stare. however that didn’t stop you picking yourself up to meet the red head sitting across from you, smiling like a saint.

pulling him into a hug, you whispered “we’re really adopting a cat?” as your lips stood 2 inches away from his ear. his head pulled back from the embrace for a quick moment, only to confirm your statement with a nod of happiness.

standing there in pure bliss, fantasizing about your new life with your fur baby, you found yourself nearing crying from the overwhelming announcement. only to be brought back to reality once the waiter arrived with your meals. you pulled away, only slightly embarrassed, to become your feast.

“i’m glad you’re so excited” saeyoung spoke. god was all too good to him, he thought. you smiled, softly replying “thank you”. your eyes glanced up from your newly delivered meal to find your lover looking no different than a child being delivered delicious ice cream.

“shall we begin our meal then, 606?” he proposed. you nod, picking up the utensil placed to your right. creating the passage way for the two of you to continue your night full of bliss, no more, no less.

as you silently decided against an ass whooping as reasonable punishment.

BONUS: *on the way home*

“saeyoung” you begin, feeling the once scorching sun hit your revealed arm. “do you have a picture of our future daughter?” you ask. after receiving a gentle laugh, your eyes are met with your loves phone. once inspecting the picture, you could feel yourself melt on the spot.

“she’s adorable, isn’t she?” saeyoung asked, taking a notice of the way your eyes lit up like stars at midnight. with an aggressive yet playful nod of confirmation, in the next second he could feel the way your body pushed into his side, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“thank you so much” you let out, barely being heard from muffling yourself in your lovers flesh. although you couldn’t see it, you had a sense of saeyoungs current facial expression.

one full of excitement, love, passion, and warmth. he would treat this cat like his child, you were positive of it. and on the plus side, jumin wouldn’t have to worry about saeyoung trying to get a hold of elizabeth now.

in that moment, almost as if he heard your thoughts, he says “we should name her elizabeth the fourth, elly for short!”. there was the silly, child-like man you loved, you thought.

for the remainder of the late hours, you would be convincing saeyoung not to name her any variation of the name elizabeth the third. you knew for a fact that letting that name slide would result in a lawsuit by the morning.

elly the fourth did sound cute though... perhaps you should propose keeping it as a nickname for times jumin isn’t present.

---

3:07 AST - 07/22/21

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fanfic #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x mc #707 #mysme 707 #707 x mc #luciel choi #saeyoung

27 notes · View notes

whimperwoods · 3 years

Text

Part 6 of Gozukk and Anna. Hurt/comfort. Dinner invitation. Panic attack. Adjusting to this situation is going great for everyone involved I’m sure.

First part is here. Second part is here. Third part is here. Fourth part is here. Fifth part is here.

tw: slavery (past), tw: past abuse, tw: hallucinations (ish), tw: fear of noncon (fairly vague, trauma-related rather than situational), tw: anxiety, tw: PTSD, tw: panic attack, tw: disorientation/dissociation

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! I continue to be astounded by how long it is, so thanks, y’all!

Tag list: @redwingedwhump, @nine-tailed-whump, @thehurtsandthecomfurts @kixngiggles, @bluebadgerwhump, @dragonheart905, @carolinethedragon, @whumpzone, @newbornwhumperfly, @cupcakes-and-pain, @much-ado-about-whumping

****

Anna dozed fitfully for as long as she could manage, curled up in the middle of the rug in a tight ball. She was comfortable enough, comparatively, but everything was so new and unfamiliar that she kept waking herself up with a start, realizing all over again that she was alone in a place full of the unknown. She could lie still, mostly, and the only part of her that shook anymore were her fingers, but as exhausted as she was, she still couldn’t let go.

She let herself get up again when she realized the clean water and a spare rag were still sitting not too far away. It wouldn’t hurt to clean the table and its collection of cartographer’s tools, or the handful of small chests beside it. When that didn’t feel like nearly enough, she steeled herself to enter her master’s bedroom, remembering what he’d said about being welcome to his blankets.

It required a deep breath on each side of the entrance, but she made it into the room, finding it surprisingly sparse. His bedding looked comfortable, the sleeping rug thick and lush, and enough furs and blankets that she could have disappeared into them entirely, if they’d seemed like a safe place to hide.

She laid the furs out straight and folded the blankets neatly, then moved onto dusting a small folding shelf that held the heavy, padded clothing that went under the small collection of orcish-style armor that sat beside it, and a second set of every-day clothes, not quite as nice as the ones he was wearing now, but clean and well-made and not as clearly much-mended as the ones Djaana had brought for her. Below the armor and clothing was a small collection of trinkets that looked like mementos, rather than really valuables.

A handful of large, frightening-looking teeth were strung together into jewelry she was sure looked fearsome on the orc’s large frame, but were safe enough to pick up and dust beneath. There was a small wooden box, decorated with a skeleton’s arm holding a set of scales, and it rattled slightly when she picked it up, but she didn’t open it. The extra lamp oil had a clear purpose, as did the small set of bone pipes, but the small stone disk painted in many colors and the ragged scrap of some larger piece of rich fabric were less clearly explained, and the dagger on the shelf, unlike the one in his belt that he’d tried to hand her, looked old, still sharp, but short from having been sharpened an untold number of times, oddly sized for its hilt.

Once everything was as clean and tidy as she could make it without a broom or more water, she went back to the other room, feeling her shoulders relax as soon as she was out of his sleeping chamber even though she hadn’t fully realized she was tense. She laid back down, facing the tent’s entrance so that she wouldn’t be surprised, and dozed again, so lightly that she didn’t so much dream as hallucinate, sure she heard Master Kir’s voice outside or saw him entering the tent until she started awake and realized she was still alone and (maybe) safe.

She wasn’t sure if it was a relief when her master returned or not.

Gozukk opened the tent flap gingerly and walked quietly, as if he thought she might be sleeping, but when she pulled herself up onto her knees to kneel properly with her head down, he settled farther into his feet and stopped trying to be so quiet.

“The scouting party returned with meat a while ago. We’re almost ready to eat. I thought you might like to join us. You can meet the rest of the tribe, and the rest of my sister’s family.”

She nodded quietly from her place on the floor, feeling tongue-tied. Was this something she should thank him for? Or was it some kind of a test? Was she meant to prove she would be loyal to him? Was she mean to prove she was grateful? Her breath quickened, and her new master took a half-step toward her before he stopped himself short.

Then he started moving again and, somehow he was kneeling beside her once more, getting down where it was harder not to meet his warm, deep brown eyes and just keep looking at them, so oddly open and unglaring.

She almost stopped breathing entirely.

Gozukk held his hand out, an offer, maybe, or an order. She couldn’t be sure yet. Feeling her cheeks heat faintly, she placed her less injured hand into his. He squeezed her fingers gently, reassuringly, and then raised the back of her knuckles to his lips, as if that was the only way he knew of telling her things were alright.

She wondered if he would be as gentle kissing her anywhere else, and blushed more heavily. She couldn’t think about that, couldn’t bear it, couldn’t sit here waiting for things to turn, waiting for the large, gentle man to become just a large man, after all. She licked her lips and tried to steady her breathing.

Her master released her hand.

“If you need to eat in here, I can bring you food. But I had thought I would send you to sleep in my sister’s tent, and it’s a little crowded to take you to if you haven’t had a chance to meet people yet. We could also ask the midwife, Mazogga. She lives alone, but there are a few babies who might come early if something goes wrong, and that seems - a lot to ask of you to help if there’s an emergency.”

Her head shot up before she could stop herself, her eyes meeting his in surprise. “Oh, I - I thought I was -” She felt tongue-tied again, not sure what she could say and what she couldn’t, what would offend to say out loud and what would offend to leave unspoken.

“I thought the deal was that I would - serve you,” she finally said, her voice fading halfway through, failing her as it devolved into a whisper.

“The deal is of no concern,” her master said, something about him steely again, Chief-like. A shiver ran through her. “I don’t expect them to make good on their promises, and I don’t expect to let them through peacefully again, if they enter our territory at all.”

Her tongue was dead in her mouth, numb, her mouth too dry and her mind too blank to ask any of the half-formed questions that swarmed around her.

Gozukk reached forward and lifted her chin with the side of his knuckle, incomprehensively gentle for what felt like the 50th time, but still in a way that left her mind scrambling to keep up, as he said, “You are a guest now. It was clear that if you stayed with him, you would not live as long or as healthy as you should. It is not right, to kill for nothing, or to kill so slowly, to kill the spirit first and the body second. There is no honor in it, and whatever else you may have heard of us, we are people of honor.”

He sounded certain, sure in a way that was too deep to question, in a way too still to change, and her heart raced like it was terrifying, but she wasn’t sure it wasn’t reassuring, too.

She licked her lips again, as if it would make her able to speak again, as if they felt any more dry than the rest of her mouth. Was she breathing? She suddenly wasn’t sure that she was breathing. But then she realized she was, heavily and too fast.

The chief cupped her cheek for a moment, a brief and gentle touch, and then rose to his feet, retrieving a water skin and bringing it to her.

“Here. Drink some. Maybe we won’t push it, tonight. I can sleep out here, in case someone comes to wake me in the night, and you can sleep in the other room.”

“No-” she said immediately, on instinct, before her mind caught up and she realized the only reason she’d said no was that she knew better than to accept a ‘favor.’ Best to stick within the rules. Within the original plans. Best not to rock the boat.

She cleared her dry throat. “No, I - I can do it. Go outside, I mean. I - I can eat with the others.”

Her head was down again, and she was beginning to recognize that this new - chief didn’t like that. She wanted to raise it back up again, but she felt stuck, unable to bear the effort it would take when it felt so wrong to do so, unable to make herself look up and bare her neck, even a little.

Gozukk shifted, fidgety or dissatisfied, or perhaps both, and Anna was suddenly, completely certain that he was angry with her, somehow, that she had done something wrong, that everything was about to turn for the worse.

Her heart rate picked up again, thumping too fast in the side of her neck, pounding in her ears, and her breathing shallowed, speeding into little half-gasps as an electric wave of fear washed over her body, her skin breaking out into sweat and goosebumps.

She was making noise, she realized, her breath too loud, drawing some kind of pained, animal sound out of her throat.

Gozukk’s big, gentle hands were on her shoulders, raising her up, and she realized she had hunched forward, collapsing in on herself, bent nearly to the ground. He lifted her chin again, his dark eyes still open and kind as they met hers. “Hey,” he said gently, a little over a whisper, speaking like she was a spooked animal, and maybe she was, whimpering in spite of herself, her mind blank and frightened and struggling to grab ahold of the hand under her chin, the eyes looking into hers.

“Hey, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

There was a loud roar in her ears. She wasn’t sure where she was. She wasn’t sure if there was a where to be, or if all the world was the tight, frightened body thrumming with the beat of her heart. Gozukk was real. He was real. He’d let go of her chin once she looked up, but he’d put his hands back on her shoulders, and they were real, and he was real, and she didn’t think he was angry. She didn’t think he was angry. She wouldn’t be allowed to gasp like this if he was angry. She wouldn’t be allowed to sit here, a wounded animal, wrapped up in her own body, in her own breath, useless to him, unable to look at him the way he wanted to be looked at, to tell him what he wanted to hear. She wouldn’t be allowed. Would she?

She reached up and wrapped her hands around his wrists.

Yes. He was real.

Her mouth was hanging open again, like a dog. Surely, he was about to see she was no better than a dog. Surely, he was about to shove her away.

He scooted closer, still on his knees, and then lifted his hands off her shoulders and slipped his wrists out of her grip, taking her hands in his own instead and then pressing them to his chest, over his heart.

“Can you feel me breathing?” he asked. “Breathe with me. You’re alright. I just need you to breathe with me.”

She nodded, her breath too erratic to speak. Breathe with him. She could do that. It was an order. It made sense. She could do that.

As hard as she tried, her breath slowed only incrementally, deepening only a little bit at a time, coming under control too slowly, too gradually.

She found herself moving closer to her master, closer, resting her forearms against his chest so that she could feel his breath there, too, leaning her forehead into the front of his shoulder so she could watch his chest rising and falling, his belly filling and emptying, his body breathing calmly like hers couldn’t - couldn’t - could.

By the time she had control of herself again, she was cold and clammy with sweat, her throat sore and her head aching, and she’d curled up into Gozukk’s chest, scooted so close that her knees touched his on the floor, and his hands were still around hers, warm and gentle, not pushing too hard or holding too tight, and now that she didn’t have to think so hard to breathe, she could feel his pulse under her hands, his heart beating strongly and steadily.

She needed to apologize. She needed to apologize, but she was exhausted, even more than before, emptied out and hollow.

The chief sighed, relieved, and she felt his head sink down, too, leaning in toward her and then stopping.

She wanted - something. Needed it.

She didn’t know what it was.

“You’re alright,” Gozukk said again, this time not just to reassure her.

She nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, Sir.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, “Or will you not be - safe?”

Maybe she was too tired. Maybe losing her breath had emptied out too much of her mind. She didn’t know what it meant to leave. She didn’t know what it meant to be safe. She didn’t know what she wanted.

He unentangled one of his hands, keeping the other over hers, over his heart. His free hand cupped her face again, but didn’t lift it from his shoulder. She leaned into the contact, because whatever the answer was, it wasn’t that she needed to worry about his hands, when they were here, like this, gentle and away from her hair, away from her neck, away from the parts of her that weren’t on show.

When he moved his hand away from her face, he asked, “Is it alright if I pick you up? I can tell you need rest. Let’s just - get you settled and then we can worry about food later. Or tomorrow. Come here.”

She wasn’t sure how to answer the question, but she was sure that “come here” was alright, and she wrapped her arms around his neck of her own accord, not sure how else to help.

He gathered her up into his arms and rose to his feet without the use of his hands, and the thought of how strong he was sent a shudder through her, but now her ear was against him, and she could still hear his heartbeat, and it was the same as it had been when she was just breathing, breathing, leaning into his heartbeat.

Her heart leapt into her throat as he began to lean down, laying her in his bed, but then he straightened up immediately, almost too quickly, leaving her on the softest surface she’d felt in a long time. She wasn’t just on his sleeping mat, she was on top of the neatly straightened furs, layers of them, and the mat underneath it, and then he set one of the blankets beside her, still folded, but easily within her reach, and she felt another electric wave running through her.

No. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t allowed to have this. This wasn’t for her.

She started to sit up and found her master watching her, standing too still, like he was trying not to frighten her.

“You need sleep,” he said, his voice mild but certain, brooking no argument. “When you breathe so hard like that it’s - it’s like fighting. Like battle. You need to rest.” His face broke into a faint smile. “And perhaps celebrate, but I’m not sure you’re ready for that. Come out to the fire if you decide you are. If you wake up in time. Or sleep, and we’ll know you’re healing. I’ll try not to wake you.”

Her traitor tongue was dead and useless in her mouth again, but as she laid back down, the soft furs cradled her body and she found herself relaxing into them like she hadn’t relaxed for a while.

“Hmm.” Her master’s little hum was one of approval, and then he was walking away, and she still felt a little like her limbs were floating over the bed, skimming over the top, airy and weightless, and she wasn’t sure she could get up if she tried.

She let her eyes fall closed as her limbs came more and more back into her awareness, her own again, and getting heavier, sinking into the furs beneath her, heavier and heavier, too heavy to move, too heavy for her to get up, even if she wanted to, her eyelids too heavy to open back up again, but the tent was still quiet, even if the world outside it wasn’t, and there were no lamps in here, and little light, and then she was sinking - sinking - asleep.

#whump #d&d whump #hurt/comfort #panic attack tw #panic attack #slavery tw #(past)#past abuse tw #dissociation tw #anxiety tw #ptsd tw #the PLAN was for her to go to dinner and THEN get overwhelmed and have to go hide in Gozukk's tent but NO #alas it's not that simple when all your biological systems for dealing with fear are going all haywire on you #some day she will emerge into the community #or decide she deserves a blanket #or both #here's hoping for both #also to clarify the whole me tagging this as d&d thing #technically i own the book explaining orc culture for 5e but unfortunately the council has made a stupid-ass decision etc #but it started conceptually from a d&d framework and there are elements of it i'm planning to use #not the elements about the actual official descriptions of orcs bc wow what a high percentage of yikes #but at some point if/when there's magic or whatever

35 notes · View notes

amphtaminedreams · 3 years

Text

Sitting Front Row at...(On a Budget Obvs): Lookbook no.15

Hey to anyone reading!

And welcome to my fave lookbook I’ve done in a longggg ass time! Yes, that’s partially because it involved making collages and doing the low effort work of scouring Vogue Runway for “research purposes”, but I promise, that statement wasn’t made out of COMPLETE laziness-I am super happy with it too. It’s been a good use of pre-part-lockdown-lift time in the interim between that brief period of Christmas celebrations and eateries finally fucking opening again because let’s be honest, I always knew I was gonna get distracted by oat milk vanilla lattes and veggie all day breakfasts once I could actually sit down with them at my fave local cafe. You could say I was very much operating on a self-imposed deadline.

The “what I would wear to sit front row at...[insert designer here]” TikTok/Instagram reel trend was something I wanted to get on board with ever since I first saw one and whilst the option of doing my own live action take-I really cannot bear the thought of having to edit footage of myself awkwardly attempting to sit nonchalantly in front of a camera for hours on end-was off the cards considering my complete lack of screen presence, I decided a Tumblr text post would work just as well, and if not even better in a way. Given the absence of the time limitations you face when you’re making a reel or a TikTok I thought it’d be cool to present the looks as part of a mini moodboard for each designer which adds a bit of context to each look even if you aren’t familiar with their past collections and establishes the general vibe of the brand I’m attempting to replicate. Not to sound snotty or as if I am the font of all knowledge on anything high fashion related but even with my amateur knowledge I noticed that as the video trend took off and was adopted by big name influencers, it became less about the average person putting their own personal spin on the aesthetic of the labels we can’t ordinarily afford and more about them building outfits that only vaguely resemble the general public perception of the brand around the real corresponding (and often gifted and thus inaccessible to someone who doesn’t makes thousands for a sponsored post) pieces they own SO I thought I’d take the trend back to its roots and get a bit resourceful. All that being said, in no particular order, here are the outfits I would wear to sit front row at Gucci, Vera Wang, Miu-Miu, Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Brock Collection, Alexander McQueen, Etro, Burberry aaaand Saint Laurent based on their past collections and guess what? They didn’t cost a shit tonne of money :-)

-disclaimer: will include an asterisk before any new purchases if from a high street store though to be honest, I don’t think there are any, we shall see! I do include where I got old purchases from in case anyone wants to search anything on Depop/Ebay-

1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)

-blazer from identityparty on Depop, pleather trousers from Zara, jewellery from Dolls Kill-

I know technically abbreviating Saint Laurent to YSL doesn’t really make much sense anymore given the brand’s name change in 2012, but I’ll always think of it as that in the same way I’ll always associate it with the slightly dishevelled yet simultaneously glitzy rock n’ roll aesthetic. The thing is, whilst YSL hasn’t done anything wildly out of the box for a long time, it’s rare they put a look on the runway that I wouldn’t wear; they never end up being a fashion week standout but the Parisienne take on grunge we’ve seen Anthony Vaccarello establish as his go-to will always have a place in my heart.

2. Alexander McQueen

-embroidered leather jacket from Ebay (originally Topshop), harness from Amazon, dress from ASOS, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

Alexander McQueen is a brand that is pretty much universally liked, from the historically extravagant and groundbreaking shows the man himself put together to Sarah Burton’s more toned down but still beautiful collections. Obviously I didn’t attempt to do justice to the former, so I tried my hand at putting together a look inspired by Sarah’s blend of delicate femininity and nomadic edge, and it went...okay? Like it’s definitely not my favourite of all the looks because it does give off slightly cheap copycat vibes buuut outside of the context of this lookbook it’s cute.

3. Brock Collection

-boater hat from Ebay, midi skirt from morganogle on Depop, corset top from ownmode_, heels from amybeckett1, bag from Primark-

Brock isn’t as well known a brand as most of the others in this list but I adore everything Laura Vassar Brock does and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try and channel the vision of one of the OG pioneers of the cottagecore vibe through my own wardrobe. I mean fr, this woman’s work as a steady provider of meadow photoshoot worthy dresses and corsets and skirts is v slept on and I will not stand for it. I will sit in front of a camera and then write a paragraph in my blog post begging anybody who reads to give LVB (an abbreviation I acknowledge is unlikely to catch on because Lisa Vanderpump anybody?) some form of acknowledgement for her services to period romance novel inspired moodboards everywhere.

4. Marc Jacobs

-coat from House of Sunny, white shirt from Retro World Camden, co-ord from Sugar Thrillz, bag from Poppy Lissiman-

If there’s one thing Marc Jacobs always does, it’s COMMITS. TO. HIS. THEME. I just KNOW he has a secret Pinterest with separate boards for every fashion era of the 20th century and he is putting those boards to good use providing us with collections that are as immersive as they are eclectic year in year out.

5. Miu Miu

-beret from H&M, hair clips from H&M, jewellery from Primark, coat from mollyyemmaa on Depop, shirt from YesStyle, sweater vest from YesStyle, skirt from Depop, diamanté belt from Brandy Melville, shoes from Koi Vegan Footwear-

We all like to talk about Bratz dolls and Monster High dolls and Barbies as fashion inspo but can we all focus on Cabbage Patch dolls for two secs so as to acknowledge the fact that a Miu Miu collection is basically all their fits grown up? And made boujie as fuck? If I want my fix of Wes Anderson meets Scream Queens (what a combo) inspired outfits, if I want prissy and girlish but also glam, if I want to look like a bratty rich girl whose one redeeming quality is her eye for vintage clothes, I know where to look and that is the Miu Miu section of Vogue Runway.

6. Vera Wang

-blazer as in no.1, velvet bralet from catdegaris on Depop, harness from Amazon, skirt from Ebay, knee high socks from Ebay, lace up boots from Ebay-

Vera Wang’s RTW aesthetic, a blend of the ethereal, ultra-feminine bridal designs she’s known for and British style punk rock influences, is something I feel has only become firmly established in recent years but it is everything I ever wanted and more. I always find myself trying to balance the part of me that loves everything girly and delicate and pretty and the part of me that would love to be in a biker gang and Vera’s collections are always an inspirational reminder of just how well it can be done.

7. Burberry

-coat from charity shop, suit from emmafisher3 on Depop, top from simranindia, shirt underneath from Zara, jewellery from ASOS-

Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m not the biggest fan of Burberry but there have been a few looks over the past few years I’ve really liked and as someone who owns numerous trench coats, high necks and way too much plaid, I thought it’d be an easy one to replicate. Plus, if you can count on Riccardo Tisci for nothing else you at least can rely on him giving you some layering inspo which is very much needed in a country where it literally just snowed in April and where my plans for today have just been cancelled because the iPhone weather app did a Karen Smith and didn’t predict rain for today right up until it started raining so thanks for that one British meteorologists. Your incompetence strikes again.

8. Etro

-corset from Urban Outfitters, vinyl trench coat from Topshop, boots from Ebay, black slip dress from kaoanaoleinik on Depop, fur trim afghan coat from louisemarcella-

Like with Brock Collection, Etro isn’t a hugely well known brand, but it is always one of my favourites-to add a spanner into the works of any attempts to cultivate a firm sense of personal style, I live for the ornate Bohemian look that Etro does so well just as much as I love both grungy and girly pieces, and so I really wanted to include a brand whose collections go down that route. It was a toss-up between this and Zimmerman, the flirtier, free spirit counterpart to the dark romance of Veronica Etro’s designs; her vision really shines through the most when it comes to the brand’s winter collections, imo, and given that I live in a country where winter or some weather state resembling it does seem to take up 70% of the year, I did decide on channelling her work rather than that of the equally talented Nicky and Simone Zimmermann this time round.

9. Dolce & Gabbana

-flower crown from ASOS, tiara from Amazon, earrings from YesStyle, dress from alicealderdice1 on Depop, opera gloves from Ebay, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

D&G is a brand I felt really conflicted about doing-I don’t include their current collections in my fashion week reviews based on the actions of designers Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce over the last few years because I don’t want to mitigate the collective effort of fashion critics to push them towards irrelevancy. Though people like to claim the brand has turned a corner since Lucio Di Rosa was brought on board as the manager of celebrity and VIP relations last year (they are as prolific a force on red carpet fashion as ever), we haven’t seen any real meaningful apologies or reparations made by Dolce and Gabbana themselves which once again leaves us in the all too familiar quandary of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist especially when it is far too much of a simplification to only credit the two men for their work given there’s a whole design team behind them. There are a LOT of shitty people working in fashion, the whole industry is a bit of a cesspit if we’re honest, but I don’t think that should stop us from at least being able to appreciate old collections if we make sure we aren’t engaging in any kind of promotion of current works whilst doing so. D&G are a brand of high highs and low lows, with looks that range from hideously ugly to showstoppingly beautiful in a single show-when the looks are good, they are GOOD-and their presence in the fashion world is most definitely felt whether we want it to be or not. It would just be shit to refuse to recognise the existence of some real iconic runway moments, the practical work that went into the ornate detail and opulence that helped cement D&Gs place in sartorial history, the styling that’s made goddesses and fairytale queens out of modern day women as they’ve glided down catwalks, the far more extravagant and, let’s be real, sexier version of our world D&G shows have transported us to in the past. Will I talk about D&G ever again? No, and if you Google the scandals their brand has faced over the past few years, there are more than enough reasons why, but just this once I did want to pay homage to some of the collections, the snippets of which I saw on my Tumblr dashboard back when I was about 13, that first got me into fashion.

10. Gucci

-fur coat from Topshop, clips from Zaful, glasses from Ebay, dress from gracewright246 on Depop, shirt from Boohoo, blazer from charity shop-

Now last but, if you ever read any of my fashion week reviews (the likelihood of someone actually having read one of them and reading this is incredibly, incredibly slim lol, I wouldn’t read me either) you’ll know, definitely not least, is Gucci because Alessandro Michele comes through every!! single!! time!!

The man is truly the king of quirky throwback maximalism and it hurts my heart that a lot of people seem to think of it only as a brand associated with ostentatious displays of wealth. Year after year since Michele was made creative director he has released purposeful, fully-fleshed out collections which unravel themselves to us on the runway like time capsules containing the belongings of the rich and whimsical and yes that can sometimes result in outfits which are *ahem* a bit mismatched but it doesn’t matter because through fashion he manages to take us to a vivid version of the past where people could dress as freely and lavishly as they wanted to, into the wardrobe of a person unaffected by the side-eyeing of others. You get the impression he doesn’t design so much as plays around with some kind of enchanted dress up box and takes inspiration from there and to give that impression is only a credit to his talent-to make outfits so kooky and extravagant look like they were meant to be takes a boldness and genuine love for clothes that I do tend to feel a lot of the big name designers have lost in the pursuit of profit and the necessary placating of the dying customer base that keeps that coming in. Of course I'm not for a second saying Gucci does not care about profit, but at the very least, they have on board a creative director who genuinely has fun with what they’re putting out there and wants to make a statement too and that really shows; you can rest on your laurels and sell tweed boucle jackets to rich old white women for eternity but nobody’s going to mention your brand name and the word groundbreaking in the same sentence ever again unless they’re talking about what it was a century ago, you know (mentioning no names...unless...did I hear someone say Chanel)? That feels like such a shady way to end, lol, but I’m sure said brand will survive-to be fair, they’ve been included in every other What I’d Wear to Sit Front Row At video I’ve seen so although I’m always slagging them off for doing the saaaaame thinggggg year after year, for that same reason their aesthetic is instantly recognisable and so will always be a source of imitation. There are obviously pros and cons to being a brand which constantly reinvents itself but I think it’s totally possible to do that whilst maintaining an overall mission, and Alessandro Michele’s work at Gucci demonstrates that with ease.

Anyway, if you got to here, thanks for reading! I know I’m super behind on this whole TikTok trend and I know a Tumblr post instead of a video is a bit of a cop out but all the real, physically awkward ones out there know that watching yourself back is excruciating lmao, so I hope this does the trick. After this, I’m gonna get back to the reviewing S/S21 collections post though knowing me I’ll probs take a few days to get back into that because I feel like since I left full-time education (RIP me going back in a few months) writing continuously like this for any longer than about 15 mins fries what brain cells I have left. Again, thank you for reading and if you are, sending many good vibes your way! Stay safe!

Lauren x

40 notes · View notes

psychosistr · 4 years

Photo

Steelbeak fankid- Valentino

Behold, my Steelbeak OC fankid! Art by @thefriendlyfour , full bio below the cut!

Physical Description: A young American-curl breed of cat with the breed’s signature curled-back ears and a medium-thick coat of black fur across his lanky body- minus a white heart-shaped spot on his torso which is usually hidden by his clothes- and is still a bit short for his age, with the tops of his ears stopping just below Steelbeak’s chest. Lost his tail when he was little, so he only has a small stump left of it until he gets adopted and his dad has Dr.Rose Gold make a prosthetic one for him that’s made of steel like his dad’s beak. Has amber colored eyes that, when paired with his breed’s curled back ears, tend to make him look like a devil when he grins or laughs maliciously.

Outfit: He’ll never admit it out loud, but he admires his dad’s sense of style and tries to mimic him while still making it his own. Wears a white button-up shirt with whitish-silver buttons and three-quarter style sleeves, a red western-style bow tie, a red vest with silver buttons that’s left mostly open with a small grey paw print pattern along the button holes and a larger paw print on the back, a black leather belt with a silver buckle, and black slacks with a white waistband that blends in with his shirt and pockets lined with silver studs.

Gender: Demiboy that usually goes by male pronouns because it’s easier for others to understand, but appreciates it when others ask him if/acknowledge when he prefers using other pronouns.

Sexual Orientation: Still figuring it out since he’s young, but so far has a preference for boys given a few of his past crushes.

Age: 14

Nicknames: Val, Stumpy, Devil Cat, King, Fluffy.

Val is his preferred nickname and what most people end up calling him.

The middle three are names used by his gang and their enemies.

Stumpy= Mean-spirited nickname regarding his missing tail.

Devil Cat= How people see him when he’s grinning and showing off his sharp teeth with his fiery eyes and curled ears that look like devil horns.

King= His title within his gang and what most of his underlings call him.

Fluffy= Used exclusively by Steelbeak and he knows Valentino hates it.

Real Name: Valentino was given his name after being adopted by Steelbeak and, as far as he’s concerned, that is his real name.

Had another name he was called while in foster care, but refuses to say what it was and would refuse to answer to it if anyone ever called him that.

Background:

Abandoned as an infant and found in a cardboard box in an alleyway in the middle of winter- he was very sick from it and his survival was questionable for several weeks following his rescue.

Spent his early years in and out of foster homes and orphanages all over St Canard. This gave him a pretty cynical view about people in general after a while since they always ended up giving him back for being a “problem child” or he’d run away because he didn’t like the way he was treated.

The “problem child” comments were from him doing things like taking stuff, hoarding food, not obeying orders, and questioning authority.

The times he’d run away ranged from him finding the people annoying to cases of actual neglect or abuse-the worst experience being when his tail was purposefully slammed in a door and he wasn’t taken to the doctor until it was beyond saving and had to be amputated off.

No one ever believed him about the incident since he was the “problem child”.

Despite his personal experiences, he knows there are good foster homes and orphanages out there- he just ended up dealing with the worst of the worst in St Canard.

By the time he was eleven, he’d had enough of being caught in the city’s toxic foster care system and ran away to start a life for himself on the streets.

Ended up forming a gang with other kids and teenagers he’d met from his time in foster care, quickly taking the lead-role since he was smart for his age and good at coordinating/planning raids, pickpocketing without getting caught, memorizing police patrol routes, dividing loot appropriately, and intimidating others into listening to him.

The gang was called “The Broken Pawns”, with the higher-ranking members all having chess-related titles- he was the King.

One day, his gang executed a raid on a store that turned out to be a secret SHUSH base and they unknowingly stole some boxes containing flash-drives/SD-cards full of confidential files. They didn’t know this, though, and were extremely confused about why they suddenly had a bunch of men in suits chasing them down.

While running away, he ended up bumping into Steelbeak. The chief officer was confused about why SHUSH would target a kid, but got roped into a fight with them to avoid getting caught himself. After fighting them off, he questioned the kid and figured he must have stumbled onto something REALLY valuable to SHUSH and wanted to get his hands on it.

The kid wasn’t a fool, though, and worked out a deal with Steelbeak: His gang had a protocol when chased by higher-up authorities after a raid that involved them splitting up and remaining separated with no contact for a while to avoid everyone getting caught, so it would take a few weeks for them to get all of the boxes that were taken from the SHUSH base together again. The kid wasn’t very good at fighting on his own, so Steelbeak would protect him while they waited for the rest of the boxes to arrive at his base and he’d stay at Steelbeak’s home so Steelbeak could make sure the kid didn’t try to run away or double-cross him. Once he got what he wanted from the boxes the gang stole, Steelbeak would let them keep any other valuables and he’d part ways with the kid once he got his share.

Steelbeak agreed to the terms of the deal, though he originally planned to just double-cross or ditch the kid after he got what he wanted and either take everything or let SHUSH take him. After a while, though, he found himself getting attached to the kid because he reminded him so much of himself at that age- scrappy, conniving, clever, distrusting of others, and one heck of a pickpocket.

After a few weeks of living together, teaching the kid things like cooking, saving him a few times, and just general bonding with him, Steelbeak decided he liked the kid and wanted to keep him around and the kid, oddly, felt the same- it was weird for him to have an adult that treated him with respect without trying to change him or discourage him from doing stuff like stealing or lying. They talked it over and Steelbeak ended up adopting him, naming the kid Valentino after his deceased father.

Current Status: Lives with Steelbeak and attends school during weekdays while still running his gang after school and on the weekends when he doesn’t have plans with his dad.

Personality:

Valentino generally has a cynical and antisocial attitude towards most people, usually finding them boring or annoying. However, he can grow to like certain people if they show him respect and don’t try to control or change him- like his gang or his dad. Those people are the ones he’ll generally be more relaxed around and make jokes with or try to protect when there’s danger.

As a leader for his gang, he’s cool under pressure and won’t freak out even when there’s a gun being held to his head while also being cruel and calculating enough to know how to make others listen to him- a baseball bat to the head or clawing out someone’s eye usually does the trick.

A bit of a kleptomaniac and opportunist, Val will take advantage of any possible opportunity to steal something from, frame, and/or con someone for whatever he can get out of them.

This part of his personality doesn’t apply to people he actually likes, but he WILL still try to swipe stuff from them in a joking way.

Example of this is him constantly trying to take Steelbeak’s wallet and the two of them laughing about it every time he gets caught or almost gets away with it.

Interesting Bonus Facts:

Val’s had terrible problems with his balance and equilibrium ever since he lost his tail as a kid. He can still walk and run okay, but if he needs to make sharp turns or move quickly in different directions he tends to fall over. He’s gotten good at getting up quickly afterwards, but it makes it hard to do stuff like fight and dodge attacks.

This is slowly remedied after getting his prosthetic tail from Dr.Rose Gold and receiving combat lessons from Steelbeak.

Because the only white spot on his body is usually covered by his clothes, most people think he’s just a black cat and that he’s bad luck, resulting in general distrust and contributing to people classifying him as a “problem child”.

Has a loving but cheeky relationship with his dad- they like being sarcastic with each other and saying playfully mean things, but they know it’s all in good fun and they love each other a lot.

Val knows his dad will always support him and have his back if anyone actually tries to insult or hurt him, but Steelbeak still respects Val’s independence and pride so he allows him to handle things his way first and only steps in when it’s an emergency or if his son asks him to help traumatize someone.

Doesn’t really have a favorite weapon when fighting since he’s still learning how to fight, but in a pinch he has a tendency to bring out his claws and go for the eyes.

Enjoys messing with adults/older teens that think they’re better than him by saying something very intelligent and/or scary for a kid that makes them do a double-take and ask him to repeat himself but he just looks at them “innocently” and acts like he didn’t say anything.

“If I slashed your radial artery, it would only take you 90 seconds to die in a pool of your own blood…hm? What? No, I didn’t say anything.”

I personally enjoy imagining that Steelbeak adopted Val a few years after the canon timeline for Darkwing Duck, so Valentino and Gosalyn are about the same age and go to the same private school (it’s one of the better ones in town and Steelbeak wanted his boy to have a good education since he never got one).

The first time Steelbeak comes to a parent-teacher conference, he gets jumped in the hallway by an irritated Darkwing Duck who thinks he’s there to cause trouble or corrupt the youths of the school. He has a hard time believing that Steelbeak’s just there to meet his son’s teachers, even after Val comes out into the hall to find out what’s taking him so long (he thought Valentino was being threatened or coerced until the kid nailed him in the stomach with his backpack full of textbooks). While Darkwing argues with Steelbeak, Valentino manages to swipe his wallet and reveals Darkwing’s secret identity (“Oh, you’re Gosalyn’s dad?”). The two adults agree to a (reluctant) truce when attending school functions to keep their kids from getting suspended or expelled.

This leads to many awkward/tense but funny interactions between Drake Mallard and Steelbeak’s civilian identity “Pauly” where they constantly try to one-up and insult each other while being forced to interact within the socially-regulated confines of school events and PTA meetings.

Example: Parents are asked to contribute to a school bake-sale. Drake makes cookies that are very popular at first, but then Steelbeak shows up with something fancier like lemon-meringue cupcakes with real toasted marshmallow meringue on top and he just smirks while Drake’s seething over being dethroned as the best baker in the PTA.

Valentino and Gosalyn aren’t exactly friends, but they do think it’s funny watching their dads constantly look like they’re one step away from killing each other while arguing over whether or not a new school regulation should be implemented or not.

They run scams together sometimes for quick cash and respect each other’s skills at conning suckers out of their money.

Also, they tend to sympathize with each other since they were both orphans who ended up being the “unwanted kid” until being found and adopted by their respective dads, so they’ll stick up for each other if someone tries teasing the other for being adopted or not looking like their dads.

#darkwing duck #dwd #darkwing duck oc #dwd oc #steelbeak #Valentino #my OC #Drake Mallard #Gosalyn Mallard #tw: mentions of child abuse #trigger warning #mentions of child abuse #with a happy ending

37 notes · View notes

aj-thegreatest · 4 years

Text

Next up is Topaz and Hody! I did them next because 1) They’re the big thing now and 2) I want to get my Mewni redesigns outta the way before the rest. They were pretty fun, and the first example of my rewrites! Sometimes when I redesign a character, I’ll rewrite them to fit the change. It’ll be minor or major changes; basically my spin on them. I’ll explain everything below, but here’s the final if you wanna skip!

I’ll start with the designs first, then my rewrites:

For Hody, I wanted him to resemble Larry more. I went with his canon design instead of the redesign, since I liked it more (gives me big himbo vibes).

So Hody has his eyes and hair/fin style, but Camie’s eye color. I simplified the outfit so it’s easier to draw: the red sash just goes around his waist, but above his tail. I covered up his chest, kept the gold and red gems, and made his arm armor shorter. I went with the colors that harchibudytgorichi used, cause I love how muted they are! Also, he’s wearing a skirt now! I’ll explain that later.

Topaz’s first change was her hairstyle. No real reason, but I thought her hair being half shaved would look cool! To compensate I made her hair longer, so she’s still a warrior. I gave her Cole’s nose and eyes, so she’s even more aligned with him. But now she has Phyrus’ colors to equalize. She also has pudge! I remember when someone asked if older Topaz could have pudge, and I thought it was a missed opportunity. Alot of her outfit is based on Cole’s (with some Braze too). She has shoulder armor with spikes, a gem placement like Cole, and pants with fur boots. I tried to make her more “battle ready”, with the utility belt and more coverage. No tiara, but her earrings are a hint to her status.

Now onto the good stuff Let’s start off with Hody! Instead of being jerky and prejudice, he’s dumb but has a big heart. Major Himbo vibes. Like Maria he wants to help the Waterfolk kingdom, but can’t retain a lot of knowledge (Diplomacy, Trading, etc). So he fights as a warrior to support them. Hody was a bigger deal until Astro came along, but his strength is acknowledged. He’s still protective of Maria; he can’t accept his sister growing up and surpassing him. To him, she’ll always be his baby sis. It’s also why he’s hesitant towards Astro; why would she need to date??? He does respect him right off though. Eventually he realizes Maria’s grown now, and that won’t change their relationship. After this, Hody treats Astro as part of their family. They also spar on occasion. He’s way more accepting of monsters since he’s too dumb/kindhearted to realize. He hangs with the Johansson brothers but the dynamic is different, I’ll explain later. Hody also loves wearing skirts and dresses; his fashion style leans towards Billy Porter. I...just thought it’d be neat. He was supposed to be the heir, but after meeting a fire-headed warrior that might change… In this version, Topaz is more aggressive and tactical. She never goes in without a plan or escape route, especially in fights. After a horrible “relationship” with her controlling dead ex, Topaz left her tribe to get some space and explore the surface (Cole’s idea). Nobody knew about their relationship, but once they did they were not happy. Her relationship with Scorch went on for too long. It made her feel weak and scared. Which she hates. So Topaz pushes those feelings down and fights to cope. She also doesn’t like unfamiliar people touching her...something Hody (a person who hugs everyone) learns that very quickly. She loves her dad and thinks highly of him. She often stands up for him and his ideals, wanting to help the tribe be more intellectual. Topaz doesn’t read a lot, but books about war and strategy are her favorite. She misses her mom, but doesn’t talk about it (yet). She finds her escort flighty, and wants to teach him to think smarter. Once they travel together, they’ll definitely get closer and help the other with their issues. For Topaz it’ll be her mother, her last relationship/fear of intimacy, and getting close to people. Hody’s will be his feelings about his sister, his place in the Waterfolk kingdom, and his relationship with the Johanssons (which he’ll also learn to put himself first instead of others, but I’ll explain in the next paragraph). I’d compare them to Jess and Lake from Infinity Train. I think they’d both slowly realize they have feelings for each other, and soon start dating. Because of Topaz’s previous relationship, she’s hesitant about doing “heavier” stuff early on. But Hody understands. At some point Hody gives his heirship to Maria; around that time they’d either get married or engaged, and travel around Mewni. They do have kids (maybe 2-3 because this Topaz hates pregnancy idk) and just chill as parents. Now onto the Johnasons!

Hody hangs with the Johnasons, but in their eyes he’s on thin ice. Because of Hody being pro-monster, there’s slight tension between them that Hody side steps. He thinks befriending them will change their minds about monsters, and accept them more. When Topaz comes in, things become shaky. Hody tries to keep the peace but Tor, Twister, and Gale aren’t having it. However, Topaz convinces Hody he needs to look out for his own well being/mental health, and that sometimes you can’t change someone by being their friend (Also conflicting ideals can break a friendship, maybe for the better). After Hody confronts them, Tor puts his hands on Topaz and they both beat them up (Topaz more than Hody, but ehhh semantics. Idk if Twister and Gale would get involved but 🤷🏿‍♀️). Afterwards, Gus comes by and apologizes to Hody. He wasn’t actively prejudiced but complacent and, while not as bad, has its own issues. He asks if they can still be friends, which Hody readily accepts. Topaz is suspicious, but they eventually warm up as a trio (This would also progress Gus’s development, like the 2nd or 3rd step).

...This was a long way of saying I like Grumpy Girl/Soft Boy better than the og dynamic but I’m done! Next one will come out whenever, here’s their full body!

#topaz #hody #hopaz #callyieverse #tales of mewni #callyieverse redesigns #my redesigns #my art #aj art #I’m on break at work but I’ll edit this to explain their human redesigns too #after I’m off

25 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Keeping a Secret (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: oral (male), Hoseok calls the reader princess, dirty talk, blow job kind of over boxers?, semi-rough sex

Genre: New Relationship!AU

Synopsis: You and Hoseok have been hooking up for a few weeks now. No one in your friend group knows. What happens then, when he shows up at movie night looking better than anticipated?

Word Count: 3,743

[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

It has been three weeks, two days and twenty hours (give or take) since Jung Hoseok first kissed you.

If you were classifying moments, you would not call it a romantic gesture. You were in the middle of a long speech about climate change and how the world was sinking into the sea, the ice caps were melting and soon enough, there would only be brown-fur polar bears because their white fur would be all muddied and gross.

That was when Jung Hoseok turned on the couch, said, “Screw it,” and kissed you. Hard. When he finally broke for air several seconds later, he blurted, “I needed to shut you up somehow. Also, apparently the world is ending, so why not?”

You stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Good enough for me.”

Then, you kissed him again.

You did not have sex that night, but you did the night after. And after that, and after that, and – well, you get the picture. Except for tonight, of course. Tonight is movie night with all your friends, and you are seated purposefully on one couch and Hoseok, across the room on the other.

None of your friends know that you two are hooking up. None of them know, because there is nothing to tell. You and Hoseok have been friends for so long, you did not really plan the hook-up, so much as you slipped into it. Once you were there, you did not want to scare it away by giving it a label.

It is not as though your friends would be opposed to you dating – exactly the opposite. They would make a big deal, put you two under a microscope and right now, you are trying to figure this out for yourselves. Time alone is warranted.

Crossing both arms over your chest, you glance at Hoseok, then the TV. Then back to him. Shoving your toes into the carpet, you exhale though your nostrils and try not to look pissed.

He just looks so fucking good tonight.

I mean, on most nights he looks amazing. That is what you first noticed about him, after all. When you first met, Hoseok was just Jimin’s friend from back home. Jimin was Taehyung’s roommate at the time, who was dating your roommate, Olivia. You began to hang out and after a while, Hoseok became a staple. You knew him for his outfits at first, more than anything else. He always wore loud patterns paired with the most hideous sneakers you have ever seen.

But then you noticed other things about him. The adorable slope of his nose when he turned. The way he ruffled his hair when he was happy. Or upset. The way he took care of Jimin freshman year when he got super homesick, taking him under his wing in the simplest of ways.

You saw all this and slowly but surely, a massive crush developed on Jung Hoseok. That was all, though – a crush. You thought you could handle it. Indeed, you were handling it. Until he kissed you and everything went to hell.

Lacing your hands in your lap, you discourage their wandering anywhere else. True, Hoseok is sitting across the room but that is no guarantee of good behavior. Hoseok decided to wear his black hoodie tonight. He also decided to style his hair, dark and tousled away from his face. You scowl in his direction, thoroughly put out.

Hoseok stares at the TV, blue light flickering over his features. Beside him sits Jimin, chatting quietly with Jungkook on the floor. Namjoon at the back of the room, thoroughly engrossed in the events of the movie. On his other side is Yoongi, ensconced in the lone armchair. Ari and Seokjin are with you on the couch, with Olivia firmly locked in Taehyung’s embrace on the floor.

As though able to sense the pull of your gaze, Hoseok looks up.

He stares for only a moment, eyes narrowed before he glances back down. His fingers wrap around his cell phone, typing something in and a second later, your own buzzes to life. Seokjin shifts beside you and, careful not to disturb him, you unlock the text.

Hoseok: stop staring at me [10:08 PM]

Y/N: maybe if you didn’t look like that, I wouldn’t have to stare [10:08 PM]

Hoseok: didn’t look like what [10:09 PM]

Y/N: I mean, have you always been this goddamn hot? [10:09 PM]

Y/N: can’t look at you without wanting your dick in my mouth [10:10 PM]

Glancing up, you watch him as he reads. Hoseok inhales, typing quickly and your phone vibrates with a response.

Hoseok: holy fuck y/n [10:11 PM]

Your lips curl into a smile.

Y/N: have I told you how much I like your cock [10:12 PM]

Y/N: so much [10:12 PM]

Y/N: it’s the perfect size [10:12 PM]

Y/N: enough to make me choke [10:13 PM]

Y/N: hits so deep [10:13 PM]

Y/N: tastes so good when you cum down my throat [10:14 PM]

Continuing to smile, you glance up to watch Hoseok read. Frowning, you realize the couch across from you is empty. Only Jimin sits on the sofa. As soon as you think this, your phone buzzes again. Glancing down, you see no words on the screen. Only the sender.

Hoseok.

Slowly, you swipe to unlock.

“Fuck,” you mutter, under your breath.

“What?” Seokjin does not look away from the screen.

Hurriedly, you tilt your phone away. “Uh, nothing.” Twisting on the couch, you glance at the image again.

Fuck, is right. Hoseok must be in the bathroom. That much is obvious by the neat rows of Taehyung’s face products behind him. That is not the most defining part of the picture, though. The most defining part is Hoseok’s lower half, one hand lewdly grasping his package. The image makes you swallow, throat suddenly dry.

His underwear is still on – grey boxer-briefs you bought with him in Target one lazy summer afternoon. You were with him then and okay, maybe you imagined him wearing them. Maybe you thought once or twice about him over the course of your friendship.

Glancing once more at the photo, you nearly groan out loud. Hoseok’s hands are veiny, gripping his length over the material of his boxers. He is semi-hard, that much is obvious. Realizing he wants you makes your legs clench together. Honestly, that is a turn-on in itself. No other guy has been quite as vocal with you about his desires before.

Abruptly, you stand. “Have to pee,” you inform Seokjin.

He makes a face. “Alright,” he mumbles. “Go off, I guess.”

Turning around, you dart from the living room. Taehyung’s kitchen is dark, every light turned off to better enjoy the movie. His bathroom is down the hall, just before his bedroom. You pause outside the door when – it opens fast, a hand reaching out to seize your arm.

“Hey,” Hoseok grins, pulling you in and shutting the door.

You are disappointed to find he is fully dressed. The evidence of the photo is still present, though. His shirt is untucked, belt buckled over unzippered jeans. The dark strands of his hair are a mess, as though he pushed his hands through it several times.

Your heart stutters at the endearing image. “That was some photo,” you grin.

Hoseok shakes his head. “No time,” he demands, shoving you against the door.

You inhale, hands winding greedily about his neck when he kisses you. Moving against you, Hoseok’s frame molds to yours. His knee pushes between your thighs, providing much-needed friction. His hands – expert in everything – deftly slide to undo your bra. Once this is accomplished, Hoseok yanks up your shirt and cups your breasts with both hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters into your lips.

Deftly, his thumbs trace your nipples. Whimpering, you clamp your thighs around Hoseok’s. He pulls back, smirking when his thumbs start to flick. He knows how sensitive you are and will use this to his advantage. Honestly, you could probably come like this but not here. Not now, when time is of the essence.

Lifting a hand to your cheek, Hoseok’s thumb strokes your lips until you open.

“Suck,” he commands, voice low.

You obey, lips closing around him to headily suck. Teasing him with your tongue, you drag this up the underside like you would his cock. Hoseok’s gaze hardens, breath hitching; he squeezes your breast roughly before he releases.

“You wanna suck me off, is that it?”

He asks you this calmly, taking a step backwards. There is not much room in the bathroom, so his legs nearly hit the edge of the tub. Nodding eagerly, you already miss the feel of his thigh on your heat.

Hoseok arches a brow, beginning to unbuckle his belt. “Well, princess?”

Nodding, you step forward and lower yourself to your knees. The linoleum is hard, biting but you find that you like it.

“Yes, Hobi.”

He smirks, a teasing glint to his eyes. Even when serious, Hoseok maintains this demeanor. Even when tying you up on the bed and fucking you senseless, there is always this humor beyond a hardened exterior. You have complete confidence that, should you at any point wish to stop, Hoseok will oblige. No questions asked. He only gets off on something if you do, too.

Staring at him, you lick your lips.

Shoving his pants past his ass, Hoseok exposes the grey of his boxers. He is more than semi-hard, you note with some longing. Shuffling forward, you reach for his cock.

Hoseok slowly shakes a finger. “Nuh-uh,” he teases. “Not yet.”

Pouting, your hands fall to your sides.

“Over the boxers, first.”

Heart thudding, you slowly nod and move closer. Continuing to make eye contact, you bend and smooth your hands around his hips. Pulling the fabric taut, you see the clear outline of his cock. Without breaking your gaze, you lick a trail up the side. Hoseok exhales through his nose when you begin mouthing his dick, leaving wet imprints on the grey of his boxers.

One of your hands cups his balls, massaging gently while you suck on the tip. Before you know it, Hoseok is shoving his boxers down to his knees.

“Fuck,” he says, grasping your hair. “I need your mouth now, princess.”

You nod, barely having a choice in the matter when he guides his cock to your lips. Sitting back on your heels, you let the weight of his cock fall on your tongue. You relish in that for a moment – the salty taste of his pre-cum, the velvet smoothness of his length before you close your lips around him and suck. Hard.

Swearing, Hoseok’s hips jolt forward and you do not stop. Sucking harder, you trail your tongue up his frenulum before pulling back. Hoseok continues to hold you like that, thrusting his hips and using your body. For a few seconds, it is like that – hot and messy while he fucks into your mouth.

You like it like this, though. You like to watch hair fall into his gaze, darkened with lust while his thrusts become increasingly sloppy. You like to grip his thighs tightly, feeling the moment when he tenses for release. When you choke on his cock, spit dribbling out, Hoseok groans and pulls back.

“Baby,” he coos, wiping this with a finger. Pulling you up from the floor, he cradles your ass with both hands. “Princess, you’re so good to me. You know that?”

Nodding, you smirk because yes, you do know. Having known Hoseok for so long, you know exactly what he likes and exactly how to do it. The benefit of being friends first is you heard his hook-up stories first-hand. So-and-so did not know he has a ticklish collarbone. Another girl never once touched his balls, and Hoseok loves when girls do that.

With these tidbits of knowledge, you are well-equipped to ensure Hoseok turns ravenous. It is with absolute certainty you can say that only Hoseok has made you come half as hard. No one has ever tried half as hard either, but that is an entirely different matter.

Spinning you around to face the mirror, Hoseok rests your hands on the sink. “I have a condom,” he says, kissing your shoulder. “Is that good?”

You nod, staring at your reflection. Hair falls about your face, breathing ragged, and shirt pushed past your breasts. Hoseok fishes a condom from his jeans, standing up to undo the package. Rubber snaps against skin and then Hoseok’s length is there, pressed to your ass. Hand sliding over your hip, he locates your zipper.

“Your jeans need to go,” he says, low as he drags them down to your knees. “No time for more, I’m afraid.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes when you feel Hoseok’s hand at you core. Sliding up and down the center of your panties, he feels your wetness. “Hobi,” you whine.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, rubbing your clit. You mewl in response. “You’re just so wet, princess. All that from sucking my cock?”

“Before.” You groan when he pulls on your panties. “Been this wet since I saw you.”

Teasing your folds, Hoseok pushes your panties aside, re-gripping his cock. You whimper, bent to the counter and clenching hard around nothing.

“Come on, baby,” you moan, pushing backwards. “Fill me up. Please – please, Hobi. I need to feel you inside me. Need your cock in my pussy.”

“Fu-ck,” Hoseok mutters, sounding tortured.

Barely half a second passes before he thrusts forward, sheathing himself in your pussy.

“Fuck!” you gasp, knees hitting the counter.

Hoseok clasps a hand over your mouth, staring at you wide-eyed in the mirror. You both are quiet for a moment, listening to see if anyone heard. Nothing happens though and eventually, he brushes a thumb over your lips.

“Gotta be quiet, princess.” Hoseok murmurs.

“I know,” you say, shutting your eyes. His hot, throbbing cock is still inside you and honestly, you cannot think of anything else. “I just…”

“I know,” Hoseok whispers, withdrawing.

You whimper, hand reaching out to grab onto his hips but then he thrusts back in, making your hips smack to the counter.

“Oh!” you groan, eyes flying open.

Grasping the sink, you stare at him, dazed when he pulls out again. Hoseok sinks into you slowly, making you feel every inch. It makes your legs wobble, feet sliding apart to get him even deeper. Hoseok’s hand grabs your hips, pulling them backwards and with the other, he forces your chest down.

“Take it like that,” he murmurs, turning your head to rest on the sink. “Stick your ass up a bit more.”

“Ah,” you moan when you obey, feeling him slide even deeper.

“That’s it, princess,” Hoseok purrs, playing with your tits as his hands slide up your body. “Now, do you want me to go harder?”

Staring at the wall, you eagerly nod.

Hoseok tsks beneath his breath, hands traveling back down your body. “Are you sure you can keep quiet, though?”

“Yes,” you exhale.

“You sure you can take it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure…” Hoseok thrusts his hips forward. “Sure this cute little pussy can take being fucked like I wanna?”

“Yes,” you whine, pushing backwards. “Please, Hobi – please.”

“Alright.” He chuckles, grasping your hips. “Then, take it.”

Rearing back, Hoseok slams into you with enough force that you swear. Barely, do you have the chance to recover before he does it again – hitting so deep, you feel the need to bite down on your lip in order to keep you from screaming. The entire bathroom is full of the rough sounds of his cock entering your pussy and fuck, do you love it. It sounds so sinful, echoing off Taehyung’s tile walls.

Hoseok fucks you fast, hard in a way that you can only lie there and take it. His hips pound your ass, hard enough to bruise and you hope that they do. You hope he leaves a mark, so that each time you sit down this week, you remember just how well he fucked you.

“Fuck, princess,” Hoseok grunts. “You’re so wet.”

He is not wrong – you can feel your arousal on the inside of your thighs, dripping into your folds and making your clit extra tender. As soon as you think this, Hoseok lets go of your waist to slide a hand between your legs.

“Fuck,” you moan, head thrown back as he teases your mound.

“That’s it,” Hoseok exhales, over your shoulder. He stares at you in the mirror. “Look how fucked out you are. All needy, split by my cock. Wanna cum on my dick?”

“Mmm,” you agree as he begins circling your clit. Instantly, your walls tighten around him. It is embarrassing, how readily your body responds to his commands. Already, you can feel the pulse of blood in your ears, the pleasure reaching a fever-pitch and needing release.

“That’s it,” Hoseok murmurs. He presses a kiss to your cheek in an almost-sweet gesture. Meanwhile, his cock continues hammering your pussy. “Come for me.”

You do – breaking apart, sobbing his name as you grip onto the counter. Everything shakes, vision blurred while your orgasm rips through you. Hoseok continues to thrust, pushing you through pleasure until it borders on pain. When you look up at him in the mirror, he gasps out your name.

“Y/N,” he blurts, sounding tortured. “I wanna come on your ass.”

“Do it,” you agree, wriggling the feature. “Hobi, do it.”

“Alright,” he gasps.

Immediately, Hoseok pulls out. Yanking off his condom, he pumps himself into one fist. Staring at your cunt, spread and messy before him, it only takes a few strokes before he is coming undone.

“Fuck,” Hoseok groans, hand grabbing yours on the counter. You cannot see but feel when his cum hits your ass. It paints a hot, messy picture dripping in between folds. Drops continue to land while Hoseok rubs himself out.

Head lowering, he gently kisses your neck. Keening into his praise, you smile, catching your breath as he pulls himself upwards.

“Fuck,” Hoseok says, pushing a hand through his hair. His eyes are sparkling, making you laugh.

“What?” you ask.

Hoseok shrugs and steps forward. “You,” he offers, cupping your face with both hands.

When he kisses you, you find yourself getting lost in the moment. There is still cum on your ass and you really need to clean but for now, you want to kiss Hoseok. It seems more important.

Finally, he withdraws and you open your eyes. “You go first,” you say, nodding at the door. Your voice has dropped back to a whisper, as though someone might hear you. “I have to pee.”

Hoseok snorts, reaching down to pull up his pants. Nodding, he sneaks another quick kiss before pushing open the door. Glancing each way down the hall, he slips into the kitchen. Once he is gone, you ready yourself in the bathroom and fully clean and fully clothed, you leave the bathroom as well.

The kitchen lights are still off, dark when you enter the living room. The final scene of the movie plays on the screen – a rising crescendo of music while the main boy and girl realize they like each other. Sneaking a glance at Hoseok, you see him back on his sofa.

Turning around, you plop down beside Seokjin.

Jungkook stirs, speaking up from the floor. “Why don’t you sit next to Hobi?” he asks, shoving more popcorn into his mouth. “I’m sure Jimin would move for you.”

Freezing in place, your gaze darts to Jungkook. Everyone else in the room has frozen as well, looking everywhere except for at you and Hoseok. “I – what?” you squeak. “Why… why would I sit next to Hoseok?”

Jungkook lowers his popcorn, realizing everyone is staring. “I – uh, well…”

“Because you two are fucking,” says Namjoon from the sofa. His gaze is still locked on the screen. “Obviously.”

Olivia lets out a quiet laugh from Taehyung’s arms. “Come on, Y/N. It’s totally obvious.”

“I – what?” you blurt, lowering your face to your palms. “How long has everyone known?”

When you peek out from between fingers, you see Hoseok glaring at Jimin. “You were home the other night, weren’t you?” he states accusatorially. “You said that you weren’t! That you were crashing at Jungkook’s!”

Jimin flashes Hoseok a grin. “Guilty.”

“Oh, no,” you groan, sinking low on the couch. Last weekend, Hoseok assured you Jimin was gone for the night. As a result, the two of you had intense sex on top of his kitchen table. Loudly.

Before you can sink any further, you see Hoseok stand from the couch. He crosses the room, chuckling when his hands wrap around yours. “Come on, Y/N,” he sighs, pulling you upwards to stand. “They’re right. Might as well sit together if everyone knows we’re dating.”

Paused mid-step, you stare at him wide-eyed.

Jungkook’s mouth drops. Namjoon looks up from the movie. Olivia and Taehyung stop talking – even Seokjin reaches out and presses pause on the remote.

“Dating?” Jimin blinks.

Hoseok has an expression on his face you have only seen once. It was when he woke up forty minutes late the day of his Calculus II exam and realized he just might fail the whole class. Slowly, he turns to look at you. His expression is so helpless, you almost want to laugh. The look he gives you is of such whipped, unadulterated adoration that you practically melt.

Closing the distance, you kiss him soft on the lips. “Yeah, dating,” you mumble.

Hoseok smiles, his arms wrapping tighter around you.

Taehyung whoops, breaking the moment. “Wow!” he exclaims when you finally break apart. “We didn’t know you were dating! We just thought you were fucking. Guys!”

“I…” Hoseok exhales, smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. We’re dating.”

The tentativeness to his words makes you smile. Looking at him, you nod.

“Okay.” Namjoon leans forward, attempting to see the screen. “That’s awesome and all, but can you sit the fuck down? There’s only a few minutes left in this movie and I want to see how it ends.”

“I’ll tell you how it ends,” Hoseok grumbles, throwing up the middle finger as you move towards the couch.

You push this down, climbing into his lap when he sits and threading your hands through his hair. Smiling happily, you kiss the side of his neck. Finally, you have everything you wanted. No more secrets.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #hoseok smut #bts smut #hoseok fanfic #bts fanfic #hoseok writing #bts writing #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader

3K notes · View notes

alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #37: A Very April Christmas

Part of this originally appeared as Inktober 2019 #17: Ornament.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Where is my fucking box of Christmas ornaments?”

April was busily tossing everything Catrina owned down the stairs from the attic garret where she lived. “April! What the fuck! That’s my stuff!” Catrina yelled.

“Yeah, your stuff that you couldn’t bother to keep neatly like I told you to, and this is seriously a health code hazard,” April said. “But more importantly, you’re living in the room I put my Christmas ornaments in, last January, and I need to find them.”

“You keep tossing my stuff around like that and I’ll kill you, mraow!”

“It’s my house, bitch, and you don’t pay anywhere near a fair rate for the rent.” April moved on to the back of the attic, where no one lived. “Ugh, this place is a nightmare.”

Catrina came up into the attic. “Well, whose fault is that, meow? All that’s your mess.”

Behind her, Kelly stuck her oversized head up. “I think Marie Kondo needs to come to this house,” she said in a strong Japanese accent. “April-san, I can’t imagine that any of that stuff back there sparks joy.”

“Hey! What are you doing in my room? Sssss!” Catrina postured at Kerry Kitty with her claws out. “No other cats allowed, this is my territory!”

“Oh, then you don’t want me to bring up the things April dropped,” Kelly said. “Okay.” Her large paws opened and dropped the pile of clothing she’d been carrying.

“Wait, no!”

“Oh, so you do want me to help you bring up the clothes,” Kerry said. “Please make up your mind.” In her accent, “clothes” sounded a bit less like garments and a bit more like taco-craving corvids.

“AHA!” April brandished the box of ornaments. “Found you, you little motherfuckers!”

“April-san, your language. Emily might hear you!”

“Emily is probably eating the Christmas tree,” April shot back. “Make way, coming through, lady with large box here!”

Kelly jumped off the attic stairs with as much grace as a 5-foot tall bipedal cat with a giant head could achieve. Catrina dodged and rolled onto her own bed, or what was left of it after April had dragged it around looking for the ornament box. April, six foot two and model-slim with a frankly impossible body, toted the large box over to the attic stairs, balancing it on her shoulders, and then tossed it down, following that with a graceful jump to the floor herself. “Everybody gather round!” she shouted in her most saccharine voice. “It’s time for Christmas decorating!”

“Doktor Zapp isn’t here,” Lovey said in her sad, slow voice. “Don’t you think we should ask him to come upstairs?”

“Pfft, no. That nerd never wants to come upstairs. Besides, what do you care? He’s scared of dogs.”

“I’m not a big dog,” Lovey said, despite the fact that she was almost as tall as April herself. “Anyway, he’s only scared of bad dogs. I’m a good dog.”

“Goo dug,” Emily Egg agreed, thick baby fingers twined in the puppy’s fur. “Wuvvy goo dug.”

“Yes, I’m sure you said something, but no one cares what,” April said. “Sheonte! Cherry! We’re doing Christmas decorations!”

“We don’t celebrate Christmas in Ponyland, and I really don’t appreciate you trying to push your human customs on me,” Cherry yelled back.

“Fuck, no, you’re a children’s cartoon. What do they do for your holiday specials? I know you’ve got something that looks just like Christmas. Get your horse’s ass out here so I don’t need to keep yelling.”

Sullenly Cherry Blossom plodded out of her room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“On Best Pony Friends. You’ve got to have some kind of Christmas-like holiday for the holiday specials.”

“We have the Festival of Friendship… I guess it’s kind of like Christmas. We give our friends gifts, and hang up ornaments, and make snowponies, and sing carols—”

“So what you’re saying is, it’s exactly like Christmas.”

“Minus the overcommercialization and people trampling each other to get the last copy of a cheap mass-manufactured toy, yeah, I guess.”

Kerry volunteered, “I used to be on the air right before Best Pony Friends. Their Christmas is very nice-looking.”

“It’s the Festival of Friendship! Not Christmas!”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” April said. “SHE-ON-TE! We are all waiting on you!”

“A Diva is never rushed,” Sheonte yelled from her bedroom. “Beauty and style like this takes effort.”

“Come on, bitch, they threw you out of the Divazz because you tried to kill Vivi and your ex.”

“They were fucking! In my bedroom! You’d have tried to kill them too.”

“I don’t think the language in this house is a very good example for Emily,” Lovey complained.

“I wouldn’t have tried to kill them too because that would never happen to me because Chad is a real gentleman who would never cheat on me,” April said.

“Yeah, too bad you such a ho you gotta cheat on him.” Sheonte finally made her appearance, strutting into the room like she owned it. Her Afro was lightly sprinkled with pale glitter on the edges to create an effect much like she’d just been walking in light snow, and she was dressed stylishly with 14-inch stiletto heels, a green velvet miniskirt, a white blouse that did not cover her multiply-pierced belly button, and a shimmering silver jacket. And many belts around her body that didn’t seem to actually do anything. And by “stylishly”, April meant “like a cheap whore.”

“Look, it’s not my fault that Chad is such a gentleman that he’s waiting until we get married. Saving yourself for marriage is a beautiful thing in a man, and I really appreciate his sacrifice! But I gotta get my pussy pounded by someone, and Mr. Vibrator can’t always do the job, you know?”

Lovey was covering Emily’s ears with her paws. “April! You can’t say things like that in front of Emily!”

“Oh, like she understands.” April walked up to Emily, smiling. The baby, who would be only slightly shorter than April if she could actually stand up, beamed up at her from her position on the floor. “Who’s such a stupid baby?” April said in the same cheerful tone that one would say “Who’s such a good dog?” to one’s good dog. “Yes, you are! You are a stupid little baby!” Emily laughed and clapped.

“Can we get this over with?” Catrina asked. “April fucked up my entire room and I’m gonna have to spend the rest of the day fixing it, mraow.”

“Yes, we can get it going now, since I’m here,” Sheonte said. “April, where are the ornaments?”

“Right here,” April said, and opened the box with a flourish…

…to an assortment of brightly colored bits of shattered glass.

“Oh, shit,” April said.

“I think maybe you should not have thrown them down the stairs,” Kelly said.

“Bitch, you tear my room apart for this?” Catrina snarled. “These weren’t shit to begin with, meow, and then you went and shattered them to pieces on top of that?”

“Yeah, these ornaments were shit before you broke them,” Sheonte said. “What’d you do, get a truckload of shiny glass balls at Target?”

Emily began to cry. “Owwmens!” she wailed, which probably meant “ornaments” but sounded entirely too much like “omens”.

“We knew how to do a Christmas with the Weargirls,” Catrina said. “We used to go over Batrice’s mansion and decorate with lights and a ton of different ornaments, meow. Gorgeous stuff.”

“Yeah, well, feel free to go live with Batrice. Door’s that way,” April said.

Catrina made a face. “They’re vampires. They don’t have any windows, sss.”

“This is very sad,” Lovey said, her permanent sad-hound-dog face emphasizing the sadness. “I’m very sad.”

“Owwmens!”

“AwOOOO!”

“Oh, for the love of Christ shut it, both of you. I know what to do.” April closed the box of ornaments. “To the Glitter Van! We’re gonna go to the Christmas store and buy ornaments!”

“Kissmas tor?” Emily asked, cheering up right away.

“Oh! I love Christmas store! Let me get Christmas kimono on before we go!” Kerry said, and ran off before April could stop her.

“I’m not dressed for going out,” Catrina complained. “I need to try to find something I can wear, meow, since you trashed my room!”

“Yeah, this is not a Christmas store look,” Sheonte said. “I’m gonna change into something better for going out.”

“This is California, it’s not like it’s cold,” April said.

“I didn’t say better clothes for cold weather, I said better clothes for going out. This shit’s okay for just hanging with you bitches, but if I’m gonna get Seen, I need to look my best.” She strutted back to her room.

“I don’t wear clothes,” Cherry Blossom said.

“Yeah, good for you.”

“But your mane looks like a stinking pile of dog doo. You need to go get brushed and get dressed yourself before you go out looking like that.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, you nag.”

“That is a misogynist and ageist slur among my people and I’m going to post about your insensitivity on social media if you don’t apologize right now.”

“Apologize to this,” April said, giving Cherry the middle finger.

She sat down on her couch, defeated, as Cherry trotted away. “This is totally fucked up.”

“Don’t worry,” Lovey said, snuggling against April, trying to cheer her up by being a dog. “I’m sure you’ll be able to fix everything as soon as everyone gets ready and we can go to the ornament store.”

Lovey had been in this house long enough to know that “everyone gets ready” could take upward of 3 hours, and besides, April didn’t like dogs. She pushed Lovey away. “Easy for you to say.”

The door to the basement opened, and Doktor Zapp, dressed in his characteristic lab coat, goggles, and blue shirt that he apparently never took off, stuck his tiny head out. “What’d I miss?”

***

If it had been April’s decision, Lovey and Emily – especially Emily – would not be coming with them, but Emily was the one most enthusiastic about going to “Kissmas tor”, so obviously she couldn’t be prevented from coming along, even though she was a baby nearly April’s size, bigger than Cherry Blossom and Doktor Zapp. Ugh. As long as Kelly or Lovey watched her and April didn’t have to do it. She had her hands full with her sisters. They didn’t live with her, but they leaned on her hard enough it was practically like she was being their mom.

Cherry Blossom had a bag of apples she was snacking on. Loudly. She was sitting in the back of the Glitter Van, because she couldn’t sit in a seat for humanoids, so she, Lovey, and Emily were all in the back – Emily could in theory sit in a seat, but a baby seat large enough for her couldn’t. It was amazing how loud the sound of a pony chewing an apple could get all the way to the driver’s seat.

April honked her horn. “Jesus! Get a move on, people!”

From her vantage point in the front of the Glitter Van, she could see an endless line of tiny cars in front of her. Very tiny cars, about a fifth the size of her van. Traffic was always like this. Sometimes there was one of the buses or cars the BittyFolx drove around in, and sometimes some superhero’s tricked-out car, but generally speaking it was always the little cars causing the traffic jams.

Sheonte, in the front seat next to April, commiserated. “Fuckin’ wonderful, right? No matter what time of day you try going anywhere, there’s all these tiny-ass cars on the road.”

“I should just run them the fuck over,” April said.

“Yeah!” Catrina cheered from the seat directly behind April.

“No!” Kerry, from the seat next to Catrina, and Lovey, in the back, yelled. Well, in Lovey’s case, howled.

“That’s a great idea if you want the cops up your ass,” Sheonte said sarcastically. “Now I know white girls with money get away with a ton of shit, but even your lily white tushie ain’t gonna be able to walk away from running down a dozen little Wheels o’Fire cars.”

“Fuck this,” Cherry announced from the back. “I’m getting out and I’m walking.”

“That’s nice for you, you’re a fucking horse,” April snapped. “Maybe you can kick some of those goddamn Wheels o’Fire cars out of the way so we can get somewhere on this highway?”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Doktor Zapp, sitting on the back row seat, shouted, with the German accent that came and went in his voice stronger than usual. “I have an invention that can make the car fly, will that do?”

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you say something earlier?”

***

The Christmas store was a roughly semi-hexagonal structure, if the bee creating the hexagon was drunk. Two different storefronts came together as one of the corners – a Playstuf grocery store, from the same line as Doktor Zapp, and a Pam in the Pocket clothing storefront. These were barely taller than April herself. The third side that made up half the hexagon was a large cardboard storefront, taller and deeper than the other two, with a smiley face on the visible outside of it.

The second half of the hexagon, such as it was, consisted of what had once been neatly laid out aisles of baskets containing Christmas decorations, except that the aisles had ended up scattered around by the actions of customers and employees, and probably the will of God. It was now less of a hexagon and more of a shapeless blob.

On the right of the Christmas store, outside the blob of the store’s merchandise layout, there was a Christmas tree. It, like the Playstuf and Pam in the Pocket storefronts, was only a bit taller than April herself. And underneath that Christmas tree, there were shiny boxes wrapped in reflective wrapping paper. These were very large for presents, about half as tall as Doktor Zapp.

A nutcracker soldier stood in front of the store, his jaw moving somewhat unnaturally. “Welcome to the Christmas Store! Welcome one, welcome all!”

Emily, crawling out of the van, saw the fake presents and immediately beelined for them, crawling eagerly. “Pwezens!”

“Oh, shit,” April said, as Emily, who was significantly larger than most of the people here, knocked over several of the baskets of merchandise, and at least one Puppy Pal carrying merchandise in her mouth, who barked at Emily in irritation. “Emily, what the shit? Get back here!”

“Pwezens!”

April sighed deeply, and then began walking away from the scene, toward the middle of the store, pretending she didn’t actually know Emily. Sheonte, Kelly, Catrina and Doktor Zapp were heading toward the ornaments, and Cherry Blossom had stopped to chat up a horse who was standing by the side of the store, waiting for its rider.

Emily grabbed the first of the presents and tore the wrapping paper up. “Emily, you shouldn’t do that!” Lovey said, ineffectually, and then started howling. “APRIL OR SOMEBODY, AWOOO! LOOK AT EMILY, ROOO!”

“Jesus Christ,” April muttered, “I can’t take that kid anywhere.” She stomped over to Emily, whose lip was wobbling in disappointment that the first box she’d ripped open was empty. “Emily Egg, get your baby ass out of those fake presents right now!”

Emily began to wail, sitting in her pile of wrapping paper and torn-up empty box. Lovey, never one to fail to loudly sympathize with a suffering child, started howling in solidarity. “AROOO!”

“For God’s sake,” April said. Now everyone was staring at her. “Emily, get back in the car!”

“No!” Emily yelled. “Want pwezens!”

“These aren’t presents, you idiot, they’re decorations!”

“Ma’am, you need to control your child,” the nutcracker said.

“Ugh. She’s not mine, I’m just her landlady – EMILY STOP EATING THAT!” April had to snatch silver wrapping paper out of Emily’s mouth. “Emily, if you’re not good, they’ll kick us out of the Christmas store! Do you wanna get kicked out of the Christmas store? And you won’t get any ornaments? And Santa will give you coal for Christmas?”

“BWAAAAH!” Emily wailed. “No! No! Want pwezens an owwmens!”

“Well, then you better be good! Those aren’t yours!”

“No pwezens?”

“No presents here. This isn’t even our house! How would Santa know to bring you presents here?”

“Come on, Emily,” Lovey encouraged. “Let’s go look at ornaments!”

“Owwmens!” Emily agreed, no longer crying, and crawled off with Lovey.

“This place really needs wider aisles,” April muttered.

Someone was sarcastically applauding behind her. April turned. “Jayda?”

“If it isn’t April,” Jayda said. “Winning Mother of the Year awards. I never thought I’d see you tied down with a kid.”

“She’s not my kid,” April said through gritted teeth.

Jayda looked very much like April herself, except she was black, with full, thick hair that had first been relaxed and then curled like the hair of a white movie star from the 50’s or something. “Really? There’s such a strong resemblance,” Jayda said dryly.

Sheonte came up behind April. “Jayda! Girlfriend! Ain’t seen you in for-ever! Whatchu been up to?”

“Oh, the usual,” Jayda said. “Photo shoots, modeling gigs… I just did a couple of commercials, and my agent is talking with a movie producer about getting me some acting work.” She smiled, smugly. April assumed the movie producer in question was the one that fired April for demanding top billing over her male co-star, who was in fact not nearly as famous as she was. She forced a smile onto her own face.

“Oh, that’s great!” she said in an incredibly fake voice. “I always knew you’d manage to snag a job that takes talent, somehow, eventually!”

“Anyway, April, since when have you been adopting kids? And how’d you keep the paparazzi from finding out?”

“You serious, girl? You think April would adopt a kid?” Sheonte laughed, loudly. “That ain’t April’s kid. That’s Emily Egg. You don’t recognize her?”

“I’m not really following the world of baby dolls,” Jayda said. “You know, I’m a young adult, and I spend my time dealing with young adults. We don’t really have time for babies.”

“She’s my tenant,” April snapped. “Not my best friend, and not my kid. Apparently she’s a big thing on the baby doll scene, but like I give a shit? I just care that the rent checks come in.”

“Oh, right!” Jayda snapped her fingers. “I remember now! You couldn’t get work, so you had to get roommates so you wouldn’t lose your house!” She made a very fake looking expression of concern. “Are you doing any better on the job market?”

“I’m writing a book,” April said, still unable to un-grit her teeth. “It’s a tell-all memoir about all the talentless bitches I’ve had to work with in my career. You ought to pick it up when it comes out! It’s got a whole chapter about you.”

Jayda rolled her eyes. “You’re so immature,” she said. “Better get back to your baby before she wrecks something else.”

Emily was knocking over baskets of ornaments. Lovey was moaning for her to stop and be good, but since she was a large dog without opposable thumbs, there wasn’t much she could do to stop the baby or clean anything up. “Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah, thanks for the heads up, but she’s not my kid.” She stomped off to try to deal with Emily.

“So how’s it goin’, girlfriend?” Sheonte asked Jayda.

“We’re not friends,” Jayda said. “We may have done a few shoots together, but I don’t even know you.”

Sheonte rolled her eyes. “It’s a figure of speech, girl. You gonna give me a lecture about family trees if I call you a sister?”

“Wasn’t it your sister you tried to kill?”

“No, bitch, it was my best friend Vivi, because she was fucking my husband. My sister is in high school, and she’s crushing it. Gonna be valedictorian at this rate. What’s your problem with me?”

“Seriously?” Jayda asked in disbelief. “Don’t you remember when April and Friends was competing with the Divazz, and you were a total jerk about it?”

“That was years ago.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna be friends with you just because you’re part of April’s entourage now.”

“I am renting a room in her mansion. I ain’t gonna be best pals with her either. But you don’t wanna be friendly, that’s fine. That’s fine. No one needs a stuck-up snotty bitch like you for a friend, anyway.”

“Ugh.” Jayda looked at the ceiling, and then walked off. Sheonte shook her head.

“That bitch is the whitest black girl I ever met,” she opined, and went back to where Catrina was picking out ornaments.

***

Outside, Cherry Blossom was trying to talk to the horse. “So, you come here often?”

The horse nickered.

Cherry Blossom spoke words, not nickers, and had no idea what the horse had just said, but the apples she’d been eating ever since they got in the car were fermented, so she didn’t care. As much as she hated being stuck in this world where almost everyone was human and she was a universe away from her friends, there were compensations… like the fact that humans never questioned whether her apples were exactly fresh or not. Apparently humans only imbibed alcohol in liquid form, explaining why their word for intoxication was “drunk.”

“You know, if you wanted to go off on the side with me and, you know, put on a pony show?” She wiggled her rump and lifted her tail, batting her eyelashes. “That’d be nice.”

The horse nickered.

Cherry Blossom rubbed her face up against the horse’s side, trying to reach the horse’s face with her face. The horse turned its head so she couldn’t reach. “Oh, don’t be like that,” she said.

***

In the Christmas store, Kerry was chatting up Pippi Pig, a Swedish animal star almost as well known in the US as Kelly herself. “I didn’t know you were in the US!”

“I’m doing a holiday special,” Pippi said. “Pippi Pig’s Christmas! It’s my first big Christmas special!”

Kelly, who had done dozens of holiday specials, for Christmas, Obon, New Year’s, Doll’s Festival, Halloween, and many others, in America and in Japan, clapped her paws together. “That sounds so great!” she said. “You must be so excited!”

“Oh, yes, I’m very excited!” Pippi agreed. “Kelly, can I ask you something?”

“Of course!”

“I don’t mean to be offensive, but… is your name actually Kelly or Kerry?”

“Yes,” Kerry said.

“No… I mean, which one is it?”

“It’s Kelly or Kerry,” Kelly said, exaggerating the l and the r sounds so she could make it clear they were different. Normally, when she said one of those letters, they weren’t.

“But which one do you prefer?”

Kerry laughed. “Kerry was first,” she said. “Then I came to America and they called me Kelly. Then back in Japan they wanted to be like Americans so they called me Kelly. It sounds the same but when they printed it on the merchandise, it was Kelly. And then they changed their minds and decided I should be Kerry again. So either one is okay.”

“Wow,” Pippi said. “I guess I should be glad that Americans and Swedes can both pronounce Pippi more or less the same way, right?”

“Oh, I like it,” Kelly said. “I like to feel like I can be a whole new kitty every time I cross a border. Or anytime I want to, really.” There was a loud sound of breaking glass behind them, a wail from a large baby, and a howl from a dog. “Oh dear. Excuse me, I might have to do something.”

***

“That one, meow! I want that!”

Catrina had filled her basket with glittering things that moved. So far she had a pinwheel, a top (this wasn’t much good as a Christmas ornament, because it was half as tall as Doktor Zapp), a disco ball, a Santa Claus with a glittering beard that said “Ho ho ho” when you squeezed him, several strands of tinsel, a singing bird made of mirrors, and a butterfly covered with sequins. Also, a lot of Nativity-related stuff. The thing she was pointing at now was a bird made of sequins, hanging from a tree.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” Doktor Zapp complained.

“I want you to get it for me, meow.”

“I’m shorter than you! How am I supposed—”

“Yo, Catrina,” Sheonte said. “What is with all the cheap-ass shit in your cart?”

“Cheap-ass shit?” Catrina said indignantly. “These are gorgeous, mrow!”

“They’re tacky as all fuck. What’s with all this Baby Jesus shit? Basic as f, girl.”

“Yeah, well, what kind of ornaments were you gonna get?” Catrina snarled.

“Nice stuff. Like this.” She picked up a frosted glass ball. “Understated. Not in your face being all shiny. Maybe one of these.” This one was a very delicate white snowflake made of something fragile and light. “Not all shit that makes you look like some kind of magpie.”

“I’m a cat! I like shiny things that move!” Catrina snapped. “And calling my taste tacky is rich, coming from you!” She waved at Sheonte, encompassing her outfit, which consisted of a white fur coat, tall leather boots in gold, and a black miniskirt. Under the white coat, which was half open, she was wearing a black velvet tube top over a golden silk top. She also had half a dozen bracelets on one arm.

“Hey, bitch, my taste in fashion is cutting edge. You look like you’re wearing one of April’s rejects.” Catrina was wearing skinny-jean shorts, a chunky belt, and a light blue blouse with short sleeves. Her feet were bare.

“Hsss! You take that back, mrow!” Catrina backed up and flashed her claws at Sheonte. “I have my own fashion sense, not a ripoff of April’s!”

“Couldn’t tell by me,” Sheonte said lazily.

Doktor Zapp took the opportunity where neither of the girls were looking at him to head out of the main shopping area, trying to make his way over to Cherry Blossom, and accidentally bumped into an old man from the Galactic Rebellion franchise. “Watch it!” the old guy said, reaching reflexively to his side, where he did not, at the moment, have a gun.

Neither did Doktor Zapp – he’d left his ray guns in the lab. “Sorry!”

“You better be sorry,” the old guy said crabbily. “You see these joints of mine? I got carbonite all up in them. Got stuck in carbonite once and I’ve never been able to get it all out. I’ve been practically crippled ever since.” The substance in question appeared to be brown clay, and it was in fact in all of his joints.

Doktor Zapp commiserated, showing off his cyborg leg. “A dog got my leg here. I know how it is.”

“I got a friend who got his hand chopped off, got a cyborg replacement,” the old guy said. “Wasn’t any different from a real hand.”

“Yes, well. Mine is very obviously a cyborg leg.”

“Just don’t get carbonite in that cyborg leg. It’ll fuck you up for life.”

“I’ll watch out for that,” Doktor Zapp said, making his exit. As he headed toward Cherry Blossom, he muttered to himself, “If I got something in the cyborg leg, I would just build a new cyborg leg. Idiot.”

***

Emily was wailing. She had managed to knock over and shatter an entire basket of cheap glass balls. An employee of the store, who looked like Mrs. Claus, was chastising her and Lovey, who was whimpering.

“Listen, Mrs. I set feminism back a hundred years every time a little girl looks at me, you can shut up now. It was obviously an accident.”

“Obviously! But whose idea was it to bring a giant baby and a large dog to the Christmas store?”

“I’m a good dog,” Lovey whined.

“Look. The baby is my tenant. She pays her rent money, she says she wants to go to the Christmas store, she gets to pile into my Glitter Van and come here. And the dog is also my tenant, and was watching the baby, and I don’t appreciate your tone toward either of them.”

“Well, then maybe you’d have a better appreciation for this,” Mrs. Claus said snarkily, and handed April an invoice for all the ornaments Emily broke.

April turned to Emily. “Emily! Emily, the nice lady wants you to pay for the ornaments you broke. Can you pay for the ornaments you broke like a good girl?”

Emily nodded eagerly. “I pay for owwmens!”

“Great. I’ll pay the bill here and pass it on to your accountants, with a ten percent fee tacked on for having to deal with this bullshit, how’s that?”

Lovey gasped. “April! Don’t say that in front of Emily!”

“Whatever,” April said, rolling her eyes. “Emily, do we have a deal?”

Emily nodded again. “Uh huh, uh huh! I pay owwmens!”

“Great.” April handed Mrs. Claus her credit card and the invoice. “Run my card and shut the fuck up.”

Mrs. Claus’ eyes narrowed. “How does a baby have this much money?”

“She’s Emily Egg. She’s a star. Not my problem if you never heard of her.”

“But where is her mother?”

“Her mother is God. Now run along like a good little serf and take my money.”

Kerry reached the group. “Oh, April-san! That was very nice of you, to pay for Emily’s broken ornaments.”

“What’re you talking about? I’m sending the bill to her accountants. The kid is loaded.”

“Maybe I should get her out of the Christmas store,” Kelly said. “So there aren’t any more accidents.”

“No! Want Kissmas tor!” Emily yelled.

“More than you want ice cream store?” Kerry said enticingly, with a purr.

“Eye skeem store?”

“Yes, the ice cream store! Would you like to go there?”

“Uh huh!” Emily said. “Eye skeem!”

Lovey looked sad. Lovey usually looked sad, but now she looked especially sad. “They won’t let me in the ice cream store because I’m a dog,” she said, head hung low. “So I guess I’ll just have to stay here.”

“That is, how you say more politely than April-san says it, baloney? I’m a cat and they let me in. What if I tell them, they have to let my friend Lovey-chan in?”

“But they won’t,” Lovey said sadly.

“But they might. I am star too. Not so big as April-san but maybe big enough. Why don’t you come with us and I’ll wave money at them? It works when April-san tries it.”

“Maybe April shouldn’t be your role model, Kerry?” Lovey said uncertainly.

“Why not? I’m an awesome role model. Little girls all over America look up to me and wanna be me,” April said. “You guys go, get out of here. Kelly, good plan, you do that. Channel me.”

“I’ll be politer than you,” Kelly said. “But don’t worry, it’s not hard.”

As the dog, the cat with the giant head, and the huge baby made their way down the street to the ice cream store, which was also a Playstuf storefront, April turned around, sighing with relief that the giant baby wasn’t her problem anymore. It was in that moment that she ran straight into her sister.

Both of them fell on their butts, a perpetual hazard of walking everywhere in high heels. “April?” her sister said, sounding shocked.

“Madison?” April asked, equally shocked.

April had three sisters – Betty, Courtney and Madison—who were all perpetually teenagers. While they all looked to be approximately the same age, Madison was the youngest. They didn’t live with April, but they came around to visit and hit her up for money so often she felt they might as well.

“What’re you doing here?” Madison asked. “I thought you hated Christmas.”

“No, I just said that after the last Christmas special we did.” April had done considerable quantities of coke to get through that miserable shoot, and had been actively tweaking by the time the shoot was done. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to buy a Christmas tree!” Madison chirped. “Have you met my new boyfriend yet?”

Madison’s new boyfriend turned out to be from the Galactic Rebellion franchise. He was dressed in a suit of futuristic armor. There was nothing organic visible on him whatsoever. “This is your boyfriend?” April said skeptically, looking down at him – he was only slightly taller than Doktor Zapp, and shorter than Emily would be if Emily could stand up.

“Yes!” Madison said. “Honey, did you find the Christmas tree section?”

“Yes,” the man in the armor said.

“Find anything good?”

“They looked dead. I told the salesperson, they’re no use to me dead.”

“Technically they are dead though…”

“Why don’t you get an artificial tree?” April asked.

“Ugh,” Madison said. “That is so unnatural!”

“Uh, yes. Yes, that is the point of having an artificial tree.”

“An artificial tree would be better,” Madison’s boyfriend said.

“They’ve got them in the back, in that area they’re refrigerating so it ‘feels’ like Christmas. Which is a terrible idea, by the way,” Madison said. “They’ve got fake snow all over the place, but it doesn’t melt, so it’s not fooling anybody, and no one’s dressed for cold weather…”

Madison’s boyfriend shrugged. “I can get the tree warm, or I can get the tree cold. Either way.”

“So can we come over for Christmas?” Madison asked.

“I’ll think about it,” April said, meaning no. “Look, Madison, I came here to buy ornaments and you’re in my way.”

“I want to come see you for Christmas,” Madison said. “Come on, April, we’re sisters. Stop being such a bitch.”

“All right, dammit, stop being such a pest! I have things to do!” April pushed past Madison, scowling.

“I love you too, big sis!” Madison yelled.

***

“Mrrow! Where are all the damn flowers?”

“What you need flowers so bad for, girl?” Sheonte asked. “We got plenty of ornaments.” They had both filled their carts at this point – Sheonte with gold ribbons, soft silk balls in white and gold, tiny beautiful angels in colors like silver, white, and gold, and fragile glass things; Catrina with nativity figures, brightly colored balls, shiny things, shiny things that move, and things that move that weren’t very shiny. Both of them had agreed that Santas and candy canes and ornament-sized stockings were tacky.

Catrina glared at Sheonte. “Back home in Mexico, we had poinsettias and lilies for Christmas. Where are the poinsettias, meow? What kind of a Christmas store is this?”

“You’re from Mexico?”

“What, you didn’t know?” Catrina looked at Sheonte like it was the most unbelievable thing possible that Sheonte didn’t know her ethnicity.

“Near as I could tell, you’re a cat.”

“Yeah, but I’m a Mexican cat, meow. All the Weargirls came from different places. Batrice was from England. Lulu’s American but she’s Cajun, from Louisiana.”

“I never hear you say anything in Spanish.”

“Eso es porque soy completamente bilingüe, puta.” At Sheonte’s look, Catrina snapped, “I’m bilingual. Been speaking English since I was a little kid. I don’t need to throw Spanish words into everything I say to remind people I’m Mexican like that puta gata, who’s gotta be all like April-san and san this and san that to remind everyone she’s Japanese.” Mrs. Claus walked past them right then. “Hey, you! Mrs. Claus! Where are all the poinsettias in this place?”

“We sold out of those last weekend.”

Catrina rolled her eyes. “Figures.”

“Guess you shouldn’t have waited for April to throw together a fake friendship trip to the Christmas store. Don’t you have wheels of your own?”

“I have a fucking motorcycle. All the Weargirls have motorcycles.”

“Yeah, well, if the Weargirls are so great why aren’t you living with them?”

“It’s not because I tried to kill any of them, I can tell you that.”

“Excuse me? Miss Sheonte?”

The newcomer was very, very short – shorter than Doktor Zapp, shorter even than April’s or Catrina’s arm. She was a Forrest-Pierce BittyFolx from the old school, but unusual looking—barely any hair, just a few red curls on the top of her head, and while most BittyFolx girls wore dresses that curved out from their bodies, her dress was completely straight.

Sheonte was plainly surprised. “Yes, that’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m your biggest fan!” the extremely tiny girl said, bouncing. “My name’s Biz. You are, like, my icon.”

“Why, thank you.”

“I love your sense of style!” Biz gushed. “I always wished I could dress like you, but…” She gestured at her perfectly straight cylindrical body. “I’m stuck with this stupid red dress. I haven’t even got anywhere I can put accessories.” Since BittyFolx had no arms or legs, and seemed to do all their moving via close-range telekinesis or something, this was absolutely true.

“Oh, girlfriend, anyone can have style.” Sheonte turned slightly to grab a piece of tinsel garland out of a nearby bin of wares. She placed it around Biz’s neck, where it looked like a boa. “There you go. You might need to tie it to make it stay on, but see? You can accessorize too! You just have to be flexible.”

“Oh, wow!” Biz lifted her boa without hands, since she didn’t have any, and gazed at it in wonder. “This is beautiful! You’re amazing, Miss Sheonte!”

“Of course I am,” Sheonte said, grinning. “But you’re amazing too. And now you can show the world.”

Catrina muttered to herself, “Back in my show, we didn’t have to teach kids to self-actualize through fashion, mrow. We just fought evil zombies.”

***

Cherry Blossom was attempting to drape herself over the horse, having consumed almost the entire bag of fermented apples. “Come oooonnn,” she slurred. “I’m loooonely. Can’t we goooo somewhere?”

“Cherry Blossom!” Doktor Zapp panted as he reached her. “You’re drunk? How are you drunk?”

Cherry Blossom smiled a huge horsey grin at him. “Apples!” she said drunkenly. “You humans never check the apples!” She then turned to the horse she was hitting on. “I got some for yoooouuu… you want one?” Using her hoof, which for some mysterious reason was able to lift apples as if it had opposable thumbs, she pulled an apple out of her bag and offered it to the horse, who nickered and tried to move away, except that Cherry Blossom was not letting that happen.

“Oh mein gott. I can’t believe this. We’re in public! Show some decorum!”

“I had me some decorum,” Cherry said. “I had frieeends. We had decorum. We saved the goddamn world, we had so much decorum! And have they come to get me? Noooo. So what good is fucking decorum?” She planted a sloppy kiss on the side of the horse’s head. “Come ooooon. I’m horny! I haven’t been with another pony since I got here!”

“The horse obviously is not interested in you,” Doktor Zapp said. “He keeps trying to get away.” The horse was tied to a post by the Christmas store. Doktor Zapp tried to grab Cherry Blossom’s mane and pull her away. “Let’s go home. You’re drunk.”

“No!” Cherry Blossom bucked, her hooves narrowly missing Doktor Zapp, who dodged. “I wanna stay right here with my boyfriend!”

“You don’t even know his name,” Doktor Zapp pointed out. “And also, he can’t talk!”

“I don’t need him to talk,” Cherry Blossom said, suggestively wiggling her rump.

A tall, thin cowboy, about April’s height, came out of the Christmas store, carrying a bag of ornaments. “Hey there, pardner,” he said. “What’s your horse trying to do to my horse?”

“She is not my horse—”

“I’m a pony! And I belong to myself!”

“She is my housemate, and she’s drunk on fermented apples—”

“And I haven’t gotten laid since I left Ponyland! I just wanna get railed, is that so wrong?”

The cowboy shook his head, not like he was saying “no” but like he was saying “I am just not even gonna deal with this.” “Well, pardner, I can see you got a feisty one there,” he said. “You’ve got my sympathies. I’ve had to drag my buddy home from a bender more’n a few times. He’s an astronaut, see, and he likes to get himself liquored up on space hooch.”

Doktor Zapp didn’t know how space hooch would differ from the regular Earth stuff, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “It means a great deal to me that you care. It has been a very long time since anyone cared.”

“That’s right sad there, fella. You should fix that. Make some better friends.” The cowboy sat down on the horse. The horse was Cherry Blossom’s size, and the cowboy was April’s size, and Cherry Blossom was less than half of April’s height. The cowboy’s nether end barely fit on the horse, and he had to stick his legs straight out to either side or they’d drag on the ground. “Me and Sierra need to be moseying along now. You folks take care.”

“NOOO!” Cherry Blossom cried out as the cowboy and the horse started to ride away. “He’s the love of my life! Don’t take him away from me!”

The cowboy’s eyebrows went up. “Uh, ma’am, Sierra here is a mare. Surprised you couldn’t tell.”

“Oh,” Cherry Blossom said, and then wailed, “She’s the love of my life! Don’t take her away from me!”

The horse snorted, and rode off with the cowboy more than twice her size on her back, as Doktor Zapp held Cherry Blossom back by her mane.

“Let’s get you to the van,” he said, pulling at her.

Cherry Blossom burst into tears. “No one wants to fuck me!”

“There, there.” Doktor Zapp was aromantic and asexual, and couldn’t relate to Cherry Blossom’s issue, but long experience had taught him how to pretend. “I know it’s hard. Why don’t you come on back to the van and lay down? You’ll feel better.”

“I feel sick,” Cherry Blossom moaned.

“Well, then why don’t we get you to the van for a nice cup of water.”

“Uggh.” Cherry Blossom proceeded to vomit all over Doktor Zapp’s shoes, making him jump away.

“How!” he shouted. “Horses can’t vomit!”

“I’m a pony! Ugggh…” Cherry Blossom followed her retort with more puking. Doktor Zapp had to remind himself that Ponyland was in another dimension, which made Cherry Blossom more of an alien than an equine.

***

Finally, April had a chance to shop for Christmas ornaments. She favored the kitschy Christmasy Americana of Santas and reindeers and gingerbread men, as well as a lot of colorful glass balls to replace the ones that broke earlier today.

Since they were shopping to replace her ornaments, she was expected to pay for them, so she met up with Sheonte and Catrina as she was getting ready to check out. Sheonte stared in disbelief. “Girl, you really going with that Santa and candy cane kind of crap?”

“What the fuck is wrong with that?” April glared at Sheonte’s cart. “Your shit looks like some kind of ballroom decoration, not Christmas.”

“Yeah, but my stuff is Christmasy without being ugly, meow,” Catrina retorted. “Sheonte’s ornaments may look boring and corporate but yours are just stupid as fuck.”

“Excuse the fuck out of me for wanting a Christmas feel for my Christmas decorations! All you got might as well be an entire strip club’s worth of glitter!”

“You take that back, mraow!”

“My decorations are tasteful, but I can see you bitches don’t know the meaning of the word,” Sheonte snapped. “Corporate? April’s ornaments are fucking corporate. ‘Let’s put up ugly ornaments with candy canes on them to appeal to the soccer mom demographic!’”

“I can see you’ve never been in a corporate boardroom,” April snarked.

“I’ve never been in a boring-ass one full of old white guys, if that’s what you mean,” Sheonte said. “We Divazz had a boardroom. It was cool. It had soda, and wine coolers.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking matter because it’s my house and my tree, and I say your ornaments are shitty and I’m not buying them.”

“The fuck you’re not,” Catrina said. “You said we could get whatever we wanted, mraow!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t mean it when I said it.”

“Whatever, bitch. I’m rich enough to buy my own goddamn ornaments,” Sheonte said.

“I’m not putting them on my tree.”

“Yes, you are,” Sheonte said. “Or Catrina and I are moving out. Right, Catrina?”

“Uh…”

“Because you can’t make the mortgage on the Dream House if two of us aren’t renting anymore, right?”

“I can find another couple of renters like that,” April said, snapping her fingers.

“Yeah, no, you can’t. Have you seen your ratings on Yelp?”

“Go Google yourself, meow,” Catrina said. “If the first hit isn’t ‘April is a bitch,’ I’ll eat this ornament.” She held up one of the sparkly balls in her cart. “Anyway, if you don’t wanna put them on your tree, mrew, I’ll get my own damn tree.”

“Ooh. Yeah. I could have an amazing tree for myself and you could just put your tacky junk all over your tree and it could look like shit,” Sheonte said.

Behind them all, they heard Lovey say, “But wouldn’t it be kind of weird if everyone in the house had their own tree?”

April turned. Lovey was there, and behind her, making her way over to the group, was Kerry Kitty, with Emily Egg sitting by herself outside the general area of the Christmas store. Lovey continued. “I think that would be weird, don’t you think? Shouldn’t we all be able to enjoy the big Christmas tree in the middle of the living room?”

“It’s my goddamn tree,” April snapped.

“But we’re all sharing the living room as part of our common space, right? Don’t you think it would be weird if we all had to have different trees?”

“No, nobody but you thinks so, and no one cares what you think.”

“I don’t care if it’s weird,” Sheonte said. “As long as April’s gonna be a bitch about her tree—”

“We need to go home,” Kelly interrupted. “Emily needs her nap.”

“Who cares?” April threw her hands up in the air.

“You will, when the giant baby throws a tantrum and everyone looks at you thinking you’re her mother,” Kerry snapped.

“I can’t leave until I’ve gotten myself a tree, mraow,” Catrina said.

“Yeah, maybe you can take Emily home but as long as April’s being a bitch, I gotta get myself a tree,” Sheonte said.

Kelly took a deep breath. “All of you are idiots,” she said. “No one can get Emily home without April’s van, she is very tired and on the verge of having a meltdown if she doesn’t get a nap, and you three stupid bitches are arguing about ornaments.” Her huge kitty face got into each of the taller dolls’ faces in turn. “You are going to buy all the ornaments you want. You are not going to get extra trees. I will make your ornaments work together without clashing. You are going to shut the fuck up and buy the ornaments in your cart and then April-san will drive all of us home, do you understand?”

Everyone stared at the normally perpetually cheerful and polite Japanese idol as if her face had just sprouted tentacles like a Cthulhoid monster. Catrina and Sheonte took delicate, discreet steps backward.

April did not. “Yeah, what if I—”

Kerry was about Emily Egg’s height, but considerably wider than any of the fashion dolls. She set her feet like a sumo wrestler and shoved April up against a rack of ornaments, her giant head looming imposingly against April’s neck. “Do you understand?” she repeated.

April paled. “Okay, fine! Whatever the fuck!”

Kelly stepped back and beamed. “Very good, April-san. Let’s go home!”

***

Since Cherry Blossom was sleeping it off in the back of the van, and Doktor Zapp was watching her to make sure she didn’t vomit again, April was able to drive off as soon as she and the others were all in the van.

Back at April’s place, there were mugs of hot chocolate for everyone except Lovey, since dogs couldn’t have chocolate; she had a festively striped bone that resembled a candy cane instead. When April pointed out that cats also could not have chocolate, Kerry had smiled a very broad smile and said, “Bite me, April-san.” And then downed half her mug at once. There was no explanation where the mugs of hot chocolate came from; this was just the sort of thing that happened when you were a doll superstar.

Kelly organized the tree ruthlessly, calling on Lovey and Emily to place the “owwmens” in the places she specified. Doktor Zapp was forcibly recruited to assist; he was smaller than Kerry, Lovey or Emily, but he had a levitation belt and fully dexterous hands. Kelly might have opposable thumbs, but her paws themselves were a bit large for interacting with the more delicate ornaments. Emily babbled happily and Lovey barked and frolicked with excitement, like Christmas tree decorating under Kerry’s command was the best thing ever.

April didn’t know whether she was more irritated that she was being left out of the whole tree-decoration process when it was her damn tree, or that Kelly was actually making the wildly clashing types of ornaments work together. She retreated to the roof with a bottle of wine. Catrina and Sheonte joined her.

“All this Christmas bullshit,” Sheonte said.

“Yeah.” April took a swig directly from the bottle, and then handed it to Sheonte, her eyes a challenge. Was Sheonte going to be all prissy and refuse to take a drink because April’s lips had touched the bottle?

The answer was no. Sheonte slugged down what was probably more than one swig. “Catrina?”

“Why the hell not,” Catrina said, and took the bottle. “Mrow.”

As she put it down, she said, “Last Christmas I was at Batrice’s mansion with Lulu and Foxy and Raven. We put purple and blue lights all over the outside of the house, mreow. Then we had steak, nice and bloody, and we decorated the tree. We had poinsettias, and lilies, and colored balls, and Foxy and I chased them around before we put them on the tree.”

“Sounds fantastic,” April said sarcastically.

“It was. It was great. I had real friends.”

“Real friends,” Cherry Blossom said, pushing open the door to the roof. “I had real friends too.”

“Thought you were sleeping off your drunk,” April said.

“I did that. Now I have the biggest headache. Pass the bottle?”

“Thought you only ate apples,” Sheonte said.

“Naah, I can get drunk the human way too.” Cherry Blossom was plainly still somewhat drunk, but four legs, even unsteady ones, were better at staying upright than two legs. She made her way over to the other three and sat down next to Catrina, who passed her the bottle.

“If you had such good friends, why aren’t you with them now?” April asked Catrina. “You try to kill one of them?”

“That would never happen,” Catrina said. “Even if one of them did sleep with my boyfriend – which none of them did, mraow – I would never turn against them.”

“Oh, la-di-da, you’re so much better than us dumb fucks,” Sheonte said. “You so ride or die, why ain’t you hanging with them now?”

“Because I can’t.” Catrina took the bottle back from Cherry Blossom. “We’re monsters. Shapeshifters. Were-girls, right? I’m a cat, Lulu’s a wolf, Raven’s kinda obvious…”

“So?” April reached for the bottle, bypassing Sheonte’s turn.

“So, villagers with pitchforks. Basically. Meow. We had to split up, the cops kept hassling us and there were lawsuits, and we decided it was best to leave Batrice’s mansion, except for Batrice of course. We’re trying to find a place all of us can live, but rents are so high around here, mraow.”

“That’s so sad,” Cherry Blossom said. “No one should be getting in the way of true friendship.” She reached for the bottle, but Sheonte, who’d finally gotten it, didn’t pass it back.

“This shit’s weaksauce, April. You got anything better?”

April opened her large handbag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “I got this.”

“Shiiiit. Yeah, gimme some’a that.”

Sheonte passed the bottle of wine to Cherry Blossom to finish as she opened the whiskey. Cherry Blossom said, “I miss my friends. I miss Ponyland. You people aren’t even my species, and I have to perform in your movies, and do pony rides, and you know what? At home I wasn’t even an actress! I wasn’t even a performer! I ran a grocery store! I sold fruit!”

“Didn’t you say you used to save the world?”

“Yeah, me and my friends used to use the magic of friendship to defeat monsters and evil sorcerors and stuff.”

“How’s a grocery store manager get a position like that?”

Cherry shrugged. “A new mare comes to your hometown with a prophecy, you know how it is.” She threw the now-empty wine bottle off the roof. “Why haven’t they come for me? I thought we were best friends. I thought we’d do anything for each other. Why haven’t they found me yet?”

Sheonte passed the whiskey to April. “Last Christmas we all got together at Yana’s house and we stood around the tree and we strung tinsel garlands all around it. Handing off to each other. The guys were helping with the stuff at the top, it was a tall tree. We had white and gold ribbons tied in bows, and pretty white doves and shit. Had Coke and rum, and Shannon made a cake…”

“Oh, wow, you people used to have such awesome Christmases.”

Sheonte glared at April. “We did. Because we had friends. I thought I had friends, anyway. I didn’t know Viv was gonna end up fucking my boyfriend and then all of them were gonna take her side.”

“I thought I had friends, too,” Cherry Blossom said, taking her turn with the whiskey. “Last Festival of Friendship, we decorated the whole town. Featherfall was getting all the birds to help out with putting snow garlands on everything… Spark had magicked the snow so it would stick together in a garland…” She began to sob. “I’ll never see them again, will I? Maybe they can’t get here! Maybe they can’t find me, and I’ll have to live here forever and ever…”

Catrina sniffled. “Meow. I wanna get back with my friends so bad. I can’t believe I gotta spend Christmas with you bitches instead of my real friends, mraow.”

“I wanna forgive them,” Sheonte said, beginning to cry. “I wanna forgive them so bad, I want everything to be like it was before, but how can I? How can it? I want to go back to the Divazz… I want Jax…”

April, dry-and-stony-eyed, stared off into the distance as around her, her tenants all broke down crying over the Christmases they couldn’t have with friends that weren’t here. All the friends she’d ever had who’d left her had done it because she was a bitch to them, and she knew it. Sheonte could fantasize about going back to the Divazz and Catrina to the Weargirls and Cherry Blossom to Ponyland, but April had never had a group of friends like they had had. Just two boyfriends, and family, and a bunch of bitches who’d used her to get ahead just like she’d been using them.

“I fucking hate Christmas,” she said.

#52 Project #april's dream house #december 2020

21 notes · View notes

thewritershelpers · 4 years

Text

Let’s Get Dressed (FULL)

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

Anonymous asked: Any tips on describing clothing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Links to Look At:

“Why Do We Wear Clothes?” by vsauce

Glossary of Clothing Terms by allwords.com

Your Guide to Clothing Terms by EBay

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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

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

She wore a top and a skirt.

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

She wore a blouse and a skirt.

You might add color:

She wore a black blouse and a gray skirt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Narrator feeling: It was an ugly gray uniform.

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

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

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

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

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

There are a few methods to consider when describing clothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His shirt was pastel blue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Collab #Collab with WriteWorld #WriteWorld #Lets Get Dressed #Describing clothing #description #writing clothing #writing help #Made by TWH

115 notes · View notes

fantasticstoryteller · 3 years

Text

New Dynasty Chapter 50

Bea Arthur sniffed the air around her and hissed. She smelled something that could be enemy, could be danger, could be food—

“It’s an old homeless guy,” Deadpool told the creature he was riding. “And I don’t care what the author says—eating him could kill you.”

Wade, please.

“Or at least make you really sick. How often does she need to eat, anyway?”

She’s not really hungry Wade; just bored. Jump a few rooftops and do some acrobatics and she’ll be fine.

“Onward!” ordered Deadpool. Bea Arthur roared in acceptance and jumped onto a fire escape to climb to the top of the building. An elderly woman opened her curtains to see the monster outside them, and there was a small thud as she fainted. “Hey!” said Deadpool. “I’m pretty sure giving a senior citizen a heart attack counts as killing them!”

Calm down. She merely fainted—and her apartment is full of quilts she’s made. She’ll be fine.

“Oh yeah? And what about Aunt May?”

Aunt May has a rare adult version of brittle bone disease. She’s still healing from her broken foot, but other than that she’s fine.

“Are you sure you didn’t kill her off screen? You’re good at that.”

Wade, what is this about?

Deadpool held tight to the improvised saddle as Bea Arthur leaped between rooftops and picked up speed. “That kid. The one in the tank at the lab.”

I remember.

“He died.”

Some time ago, yes.

“Off screen.”

Well, I did write a chapter for it explaining what happened—

“And?” Deadpool’s voice is brittle and angry.

And it was depressing as Hell and didn’t match the overall tone of the story.

“You authors and your ‘tones’,” growled Deadpool. “He was a good kid! You could have saved him!”

He was being forced to live as his body decomposed around him watching the children he thought of as siblings being tortured as they were tested to destruction for an incomprehensible goal. Trust me; he’s in a much better place right now.

Bea Arthur growled and stalked forwards, her movable toe tapping on the roof in an odd clicking motion. Suddenly she lunged forwards and chomped down on a sleeping pigeon.

“I thought you said she wasn’t hungry!”

She’s not. You’re riding her like a sack of potatoes. She’s a little bored.

“We’ll see about that!” Deadpool clung to the saddle and she raced forwards. She leaped down from the roof, bouncing from clothesline to clothesline, as she made her way to the street before running, jumping over pedestrians. Soon she ran back into an ally and hopped up the fire escape until she made it back to a roof. “How’s that?” Bea Arthur’s mouth opened in a satisfied grin as she lightly panted from the exercise.

Much better. Aren’t you looking for something while you’re out here?

“Oh, like I’m really going to find anything jumping from rooftop to rooftop this time of night. No, I wanted to talk to you.”

I’m feeling suspicious Wade. What do you want to talk to me about?

“How’s Peter and Arachne?”

Fine. They had their little talk, and they’re not watching TV as they wait for you to get back from patrol.

“And why couldn't I be there?” demanded Deadpool. He didn’t like being written out of a heartwarming scene with Arachne—she was his daughter too.

Of course she is. And you couldn't be there because 1) you would have focused on critiquing her one below the belt punch and 2) the incident has traumatized you enough.

“I am not traumatized!”

You’re referring to yourself as Deadpool.

Deadpool—Wade was silent as Bea Arthur bent to sniff something on the graveled rooftop. “All right,” he said. “You’re right. I don’t like the thought of those bastards going anywhere near my little girl—”

And you shouldn't.

“—but I can handle it.”

Can Peter?

Deadpool—Wade—reeled in shock on the back of Bea Arthur who looked up and snorted a low, menacing growl. “What?” he demanded.

Can Peter handle you being traumatized by what happened? And Arachne?

“That—you—”

I realize, Wade, that you are the only one in this story that can hear me, but you are not the only one in it.

“So you were protecting them? Not me?”

This may be a foreign concept to you, but I can be protective of my protagonists. And that includes you, by the way, which is why your boxes aren’t here.

“Huh.” Bea Arthur sniffed the air again and pranced in place as Deadpool sat on her back thinking about what the author said. “That said—you did cause me mental anguish.”

You’re not about to heap demands on me are you? Because you are literally riding a movie-style velociraptor that has laser vision, the ability to create a force field, and happens to be carrying four fertile eggs.

“Four WHAT?” Wade looked down at the creature between his legs.

Chill out Wade, they’re not developed enough to be laid yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I haven’t decided if she’s going to get spayed yet, or if she’s going to lay them.

“And when were you going to decide that?”

I thought I’d let the comments decide for me.

Bea Arthur suddenly shifted in an odd, sliding movement as she sniffed the air, tracking an elusive, familiar scent.

“The comments. Well, I’ve been thinking about that story you’re going to write me in.”

I’m writing you in a story now.

“No, no—the new one! The one after this!”

What about it?

“I want you to put smut in it. None of this ‘start affection and then cut away at the last moment crap.’ That’s only good for kids stuff.”

Wade, I don’t write smut. I’ve never written smut; I wouldn't be good at it.

“Then you need practice! Like the priest said to the virgin, ‘It only hurts the first time!’” Wade grinned under his suit. “And you’re smiling!”

I am, actually. That was a good book. Shout out to Mercedes Lackey, one of my favorite published authors.

Bea Arthur growled and suddenly lunched forwards as Wade automatically adjusted to her new gait as she began running and jumping between the rooftops.

“And I want good clothes!”

Meaning…?

“I want a cape! Lined with fur!”

Wade, do you even know how impractical that is?

“It’s a fantasy! You can do what you want!”

To a certain extent that is true.

“And no cowboy hats.”

And just what, pray tell, is wrong with a cowboy hat? You wore one not that long ago, if you’ll recall.

“And it was stupid! Come on, there just happened to be a box of cowboy hats in that warehouse? And I just happened to grab a couple?”

Enough. I have had enough. Wade, I wanted to write something fun. Something with action. But were you satisfied with that? Oh, no. No, you’re complaining about my taste in FASHION!!

“Your taste sucks!”

I’ve had it. I’ve had it. I have had it with you.

“Oh?” Wade’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “And what are you going to do about it?”

I’ll show you what I’m going to do about it.

Suddenly Wade felt a sharp pain in his chest and looked down to see the dart piercing him. The plunger had depressed as it hit pushing the drug into his system. His body felt like lead. He was having trouble holding on to the saddle.

And Wade?

“Wha?” slurred Wade as he blinked rapidly trying to clear his blurring vision.

Betty White is the better Golden Girl!

“You BI—”

Wade’s world went black and he fell off Bea Arthur. She tried to defend him against the men who attacked—but she was hit with another dart and it knocked her out as well.

#Spider-Man #Deadpool #Spideypool

4 notes · View notes

littlemeowmeowschimmy · 5 years

Text

My Moon [Hoseok x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list

Genre: Smut // Werewolf

Warning(s): Impregnation kink, oral (f), choking, wolf in heat, alpha / omega, etc

Wolf: Kook - Tae - Jimin - Joon

Summary: When two wolves meet does that lead to them mating?

WC: 5.6k

A/N: I simply want to say that if I have gotten anything wrong during this series I’m truly sorry. I draw a lot of inspiration from things I write and I should have done my research. I truly apologize for anyone who ultimately thinks it’s wrong. I do enjoy what I’m writing and I will try to fix it as much as possible. With that being said I should mention that how the wolves mate (in this timeline) are very different. It goes Taehyung, Jungkook, Joon, Jimin, Yoongi, Seokjin, and finally Hoseok. But as I’m writing it, I’m starting from youngest to eldest.

Also, I know that Jungkook’s doesn’t really connect to the timeline as I didn’t really consider them all to fit as I was first writing these. I will eventually go back and fix somethings concerning it so it fits better. Tonight I will spend my time editing for y’all so I do suggest going back to read any that were already posted as somethings might have changed.

»»————-　★　————-««

Hoseok slouches on his apartment couch, his legs spread eagle. He glances down at his phone, unamused by all of his pack members. They were dropping like flies because they were all getting into a relationship. Even stuffy Seokjin mated and did a complete one-eighty. Hoseok sets his phone down and groans loudly, his hands coming up to press against his face. Then moves them downwards as his groan left his lips.

This wasn’t how he envisioned his nights to go. Texting his members to see if anyone wanted to go for drinks. They all had plans with their mates and said that they’d catch up with one another later. However, that was almost exactly what they had said the last time. So now, Hoseok was sitting in his apartment around nine in the evening, contemplating if he wanted to go out.

Eventually, he decided to leave his phone in his apartment and go to the nearest bar. If his pack members weren’t going to travel with him, he might as well venture out on his own. Hoseok changes his shirt and sweats for something more presentable. He grabs his windbreaker, keys, and wallet before heading out. Shortly after, he slipped on a pair of shoes after walking down the hallway only to realize he didn’t have any on.

“Gods,” Hoseok mumbles opening his apartment door to snag his boots. “How stupid do you have to be?” he ridicules quickly, tying them and leaving. The brisk air felt gentle against his warm cheeks as he was happy to get out of his stuffy apartment. Hoseok knew there was a bar nearby, so he headed in that direction. The city always seemed to look better at night, and he personally enjoyed prowling around.

Not just because he was a wolf, but because he could often clear his head. He knew the full moon was coming out soon because his senses sharpened. Another reason he could tell was that his pack often stayed close to their mates, which he genuinely despised.

Hoseok had a love-hate relationship with his pack members. Now that they all got into a relationship, there was less time for him to spend with them. Not to say that there wasn’t any time to spend with them in the first place, just there was very little of it now. Plus, they were all over the city, so trying to find the right time and place was harder than they expected it to be. It was a lot easier when they were all in school and closer, but now...Hoseok didn’t know exactly how to feel.

He loved that they had found that one person, but he was also jealous. Hoseok was a romantic at heart, his pack members didn’t even realize it either. He loved watching any sappy love story and those “happy endings” he always dreamed of. So when his members were dropping like flies, he hoped that he would too. But it hadn’t happened yet, and Hoseok was starting to get impatient.

When the lights of the bar became clearer, Hoseok grinned as he shuffled himself inside. The bell rang, and the female behind the counter’s head popped. Hoseok blinked a couple of times, his vision adjusting now to the darker surrounding, but his breath was taken away. You stood in your usual attire; hair pulled back into a messy bun. Edges flattened and piercings that crawled up your ears. You wore a white blouse with a black apron around your waist and black jeans.

You had decorative chopsticks in your hair tonight because you wanted to try the style out. You had seen it in an anime once before and was always curious if your hair could keep them up. Surprisingly, it did, but that was beside the point. Hoseok quickly moves inside, sitting directly in front of you.

“Welcome to Holly Bolly’s bar,” You greeted, grabbing a small napkin and placing it in front of Hoseok. “What can I get started for you?”

Hoseok went silent as he was trying to figure out what to get. You watched him, noticing the small flecks of gold sparkle in his eye. You must have been seeing something, but you weren’t going to mention it. Instead, you waited for your customer to choose whatever he wanted to drink.

“I’ll just get a beer, please,” Hoseok finally decided. He always got the same thing at any bar. Mostly because he knew he couldn’t handle his alcohol, so he wasn’t going to try Soju. Plus, Hoseok never really wanted to get out of his comfort zone when it came to drinking in the first place.

“Sure thing,” you mentioned turning around to grab a tall glass. Hoseok watched from the sides, noticing how careful and delicate your hands were. You tilted the glass just a little, making sure the foam of the beer wouldn’t take up half. Your eyes were narrowing in slightly as the amber-colored liquid started to fill.

Once it was filled, you paused, allowing the foam to bubble slightly and then pushing the handle back. You set the glass down on the small napkin, giving Hoseok a warm smile. “Anything else I can get for you?” you questioned, grabbing the towel next to you, wiping your hands off.

Hoseok puffed his cheeks out this time, thinking if he wanted anything else. He simply shook his head, giving you a silent answer. You pushed him a small bowl of salty snacks before heading down the line to greet other guests. The entire night, Hoseok observed you, something inside him starting to brew. He really didn’t know what this feeling was like, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask his pack members.

They would only go off about how they felt concerning their mates and try to chalk it up to how Hoseok was feeling. He didn't’ want to sit through an entire hour of them discussing how amazing their partners were because he already knew how amazing they were. He knew so many things about them that he felt like he wanted to vomit.

Hoseok spent the rest of the night nursing his beer and watching you closely. His own eyes were darkening as he was starting to go through his cycle of heat. Maybe he would go for a midnight run, call out to one of his brothers. Or perhaps he would chain himself up and have his wolf think about how much he wanted to devour you.

Hoseok knew his wolf was starting to nag at him to just get in bed with you, but he knew that you barely knew him. Hell, you only served him a beer, and now his wolf suddenly wanted you under him? Call Hoseok old fashion, but he’d instead take you out on dates before simply biting you. It’s probably why he snapped at three youngest except for Jungkook.

When you came back around to ask how he was doing, Hoseok flashes a grin at you. He topped his beer off and pulled out his wallet. Since he already paid earlier in the night, he decided to give you a small tip. You watched as he put the tip down, your eyes glowing with excitement. You thanked him, then said you hoped to see him soon.

Hoseok hoped he would see you soon, considering his wolf was begging him to come again. It was now closer to midnight when Hoseok left, his eyes asking to darken as he was entering his cycle. Since he usually didn’t sleep with anyone else, Hoseok decided to go the other route. One that most of his pack members opted out of, leaving them to struggle with their cycles longer. Hoseok quickly ran home to get ready for the evening. Hoseok fumbled a pair of clothes onto his bed, quickly folding them.

He could already feel himself turning, and he needed to get out of his apartment and the city as quickly as possible. He tore off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. He kicked off his shoes and ran out to his patio. Since his apartment was on the second floor, he knew he could jump when he turned. When the moon hit it’s highest in the night, Hoseok’s body quickly shifted.

Over the years, the pains of changing didn’t hurt as much as they did before. When he first changed, his body felt like it was on fire. How his bones cracked, reformed, and molded themselves into his larger wolf was excruciating. Hoseok couldn’t put it into words, and his pack members truly understood him. Now since it’s been years, the pain quickly melted away, and it felt like he was waking up each time he changed.

Hoseok jumped off his patio, and when he landed, he was his wolf. A werewolf was just a little larger than a male wolf. Their bodies were similar in many ways; however, their build was utterly different. A werewolf looked stronger in every aspect compared to a wolf. Their muscles were more prominent, and their senses were sharper. Depending on the color of the wolf’s hair ultimately relies on the color of their fur. Hoseok’s coat was a rich chocolate brown, and his eyes were golden.

Hoseok cocked his head back and howled at the moon before running off into the woods. He would spend an entire week in his primal form before returning back to his human state.

»»————-　★　————-««

The river felt amazing against your paws as you ran up into the mountains. When you finally settled down, you curled yourself up into a ball. You decided to process the last few days you had spent since you were going to sleep. Your boss thought it was funny to schedule you in on a day you weren't supposed to be in. You knew the new moon would be rising, and your body would start to twitch, and having to close when your cycle began tiring. Especially when you heard a wolf’s cry to the moon, made your wolf want to howl as well. When you finally got off your shift, you too raced back to your apartment.

Your wolf’s energy was beginning to build now that the moon was high in the sky. However, the minute you stepped out of your car, your wolf took over. Tearing your clothes and making your bolt straight for the forest. The adrenaline was high for the first couple of days. The wet earth felt great after it rain, and now stepping into the river was intoxicating. You weaved yourself through trees, caught prey, and felt more at peace.

That was until you could smell another wolf nearby. The hairs on the nape of your neck stood as you found yourself instantly getting up. You were just waking up from a mid-afternoon nap, so you were still slightly dizzy. You blinked a couple of times, your paws digging into the moss, and your teeth bared. You watched as the alpha male stalked his way closer to you. His body quite large, and his fur dark as chocolate. You noticed his eyes first since you had seen them before, but weren’t going to say anything.

He, too, was surprised to see another wolf, and he paused in his tracks. He tilted his head slightly as if he was questioning what you were doing. It seemed like you two were checking each other out because you were slowly moving forward. When his sent hit you again, your wolf practically fell in love. She drove you closer, making sure you were rubbing your body against his, and the alpha male seemed to welcome it.

He leaned his head into yours, eyes closing as he took in your scent. Then craning his neck back to ask if you wanted to run with him silently. When he took off, you followed after. You two weaving yourselves through the woods and up the mountains. You were like glue to him because now running alone was a distant memory. It was just you and him. You quite enjoyed it.

On the last day of the cycle, you two shared your goodbyes. Both were licking one another's ears and face as you didn’t want to say goodbye. You took off first, considering your cycle was going to end soon. It was hard to say goodbye to him, but then again, you assumed he would find you sometime. You ran back to your apartment, changing the second you stepped close to your car. Since you didn’t have a pair of clothes, you quickly ran inside. Hoping no one saw because you had to get up soon to open the bar for lunch.

Hoseok watched as you trotted away, not knowing who you were. However, he knew that he wanted to find you as soon as possible because of the magical week you two held together. Once you were out of his line, he decided it was best to trot back to his apartment before the sun hit the sky. Once reaching his apartment, Hoseok jumped up to his patio and changed. Quickly opening his sliding doors and shutting them.

He moves to his bed, falling face-first into his sheets. Sighing heavily, then rolling over to turn his phone back on. Once on, that’s when everything started to buzz with notifications. He dismissed most of them as they were some he wasn’t even interested in, but then opened the group chat. He saw a message from Seokjin asking if they all wanted to meet tonight since their cycles ended. Hoseok quickly responded, mentioning they could meet up at Holly’s Bolly since it was close enough to where he lived.

Plus, he would see you again, and he wanted that more than anything. Hoseok quickly climbed out of bed and started to get dressed. If his members were going to come over, they were going to do it as soon as possible. This meant that he had to get himself up and ready because he didn’t want to leave them waiting.

Later that evening, the seven of them headed out. Each and everyone hugging each other earlier in the day, and then messing around with one another. It was like they were hanging out before they were mated. Something Hoseok had longed for and wished he could have more often.

“Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin pushes his arm gently as the seven of them move down the sidewalk towards the bar. Hoseok glances over at his eldest pack member and gives him a small smile. “You smell different,” he mentions leaning forwards now to waggle his eyebrows.

“Oh? Did he meet someone?” Namjoon pipes up, wanting to hear what his brother’s answer would be. Hoseok didn’t say anything because once again, he didn’t want them to prod or poke fun of him. Instead, he simply gave them another smile and shrugged his shoulders. Keeping his mouth shut as all six of them started to protest.

Hoseok turns to the bar, opening the door to allow them to step in first. The familiarity of it all was bringing his already simple smile larger than ever. He felt like he was at home, despite only coming once or twice, and that was before the new moon. Hoseok glances towards the bar but doesn’t see your face at first. Due to his brothers that were in front of him. Trying to figure out if they wanted a booth or a table, and it was Yoongi who just walked to a booth.

So they followed suit and piled themselves in. Hoseok being the last one as he crossed his legs and listened to his members speak about their adventures. Hoseok kept silent because he really didn’t have much to share. He wasn’t going to share his experience with you in the woods because he wasn’t quite ready to share it yet. Even before Hoseok could turn around, that familiar scent from the woods struck his nose again.

His head instantly whips around, and there you stood in your blouse and black apron. Eyes widened as you glanced down at the alpha male who sat right in front of you. The same one who you came across in the woods earlier last week. Hoseok’s heart thumped in his chest as he slowly stood up, showing his full stature.

“W-Welcome back!” You rushed your cheeks flushing as you were scrambling to get yourself back together.

“Hey,” he spoke as he could feel the eyes of his members on not only him but you as well. “I..um,”

“I’m Y/n!” You blurted, reaching out to shake his hand. Hoseok doesn’t take your hand like you were expecting him to, aka shaking it. Instead, he gingerly grabs your palm and raises it up to his lips. He presses a sweet kiss upon your knuckles, his eyes glowing for a hot second.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Y/n finally,” he breaths your heart, thumping a thousand times harder. “I’m Hoseok.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Hoseok ended up visiting the bar more often as he assumed you worked as much as you could. When you weren’t working, you were often texting him, asking where he was, or wanting to hang out. Since the intimate week in the woods, you two were slowly starting to get to know one another. It was nice meeting another wolf for a change. Considering that each and everyone you met, they were a little cocky and didn’t know what the hell they were doing with their lives.

Hoseok seemed to have his life together, his pack certainly did. You were surprised to find that he was the only one without a mate. But you weren’t going to start asking questions right off the bat; instead, you wanted to understand his personality and everything else about him. The days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The autumn air started to get chillier as it soon became winter.

Hoseok invited you over one evening since it was the first evening off for you in a while. Since you were getting closer to heat, you decided to wear a dress that showed off more skin than usual. It was sleek black and form-fitting with a slit on the right side. The dress had a v neckline that opened down to the bottom of your breasts. Meaning, you didn’t have to wear a bra with this particular dress. You did your hair in loose curls, and your make up complimented your facial features and the color of your eyes.

You put on a bold lip, black heals, and knocks on Hoseok’s door. When he opened it, he was wearing a blow button-up shirt that had three buttons undone. You could see the top of his muscular chest and his biceps since he rolled the sleeves up.

He wore tight-fitting black jeans, and his hair seemed to be loose and fluffy. You noticed the gold flecks shimmer when looking at you. “Oh wow,” was the first words that came out of his mouth. You flushed, turning your head to the side as you weren’t expecting this. Hoseok takes a step back, welcoming you into his apartment as you walked inside.

You glanced around, sniffed the air, and sighed heavenly. The small living room was decked out in light candles and fresh flowers. Your heart thumped harder in your chest, considering you hadn’t been courted like this at all. Hoseok was going out of his way to make you feel special, and that’s what he was doing.

“May I take your clutch?” Hoseok asks once he stepped closer. You flushed once again, handing it to him as he moved it over to someplace safe. Then your body moved inwards towards the table that was in the middle. Hoseok saw you moving and quickly ran over. Pulling the seat out, then pushing you in once you sat down. It was like you were living in a fantasy with how this was playing out.

Hoseok takes a moment to gather a few things together before moving back in. He sits across from you as dinner was served. It was silent once everything was settled, but after a while, the two of you began to talk. Every conversation seamlessly flowed together, and you couldn’t help but enjoy it all. Hoseok was sweet, kind, and extremely funny.

The entire night you held eye contact with him and watched as the gold flecks swirled around. You knew that the full moon was going to be soon, meaning both of you would be in heat. Your body started to feel tingly and itching for someone to embrace you; take care of you. But that someone turned out to be Hoseok as you were attracted to him. You wanted nothing more than to just be with him.

After dinner, you offered to help with the dishes, but Hoseok kindly turned you down. In doing so, you moved over to his patio. Staring up at the night sky as the moon rose to its full glory. Then, you turned your head to glance in his direction, watching his body move in the candlelight. One finger moved itself up to brush against your lip, eyes flashing for a second, the dilating.

Hoseok could feel your eyes on him, and he knew that you weren’t just watching for the hell of it. He, too, felt his wolf start to scratch and claw at the corners of his being. Wanting to be released upon to mark your precious skin in any and all ways possible. He set the dish down in the sink, turned around, and caught your eyes flashing.

“I hate to say this,” You start your movements very slow and cat-like. “But, my wolf is dying for you to take me.” when you arrived right in front of Hoseok, his eyes turned dark, and his pose stiffened. “I want to be yours, alpha,” you whispered, noticing the amber flash at the word alpha.

Hoseok didn’t say a thing; instead he simply wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you up and over to the counter. He nudged himself in between your legs, then pressed a kiss upon your lips. The second he connected with yours was when all self-control went out the window. It wasn’t about lovemaking, you knew that you both would be sore in the morning.

Your fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it off and tossing it to the ground. Hoseok was fumbling with the zipper of your dress. Mostly because he didn’t want to ruin it because he wanted you to go home in something other than his clothes later.

He finally pushes the piece of fabric off your shoulders and cups his palms around your breasts. Squeezing and molding the mounds in his fingers, then removed himself from the kiss. He makes his way down your neck and towards your breasts. Along the way, nipping at your exposed skin to create some sort of mark.

No words were exchanged between the two, as your own sounds and his grunts were enough to fill the space. He plays with your skin and breasts, making as much space as he possibly could. His touch was on fire as you were needy and wanted more. You simply needed more and couldn’t probably get enough of him. Since your mind went hazy, you were only going on instinct, which was telling you to touch him.

You dragged your nails down whatever exposed skin you could reach. Thin red lines appeared on his muscular back, which he would wear proudly. While you were doing so, Hoseok groans against your nipple, the vibration making you moan. He pulls back with a loud snap, glances at you briefly, then tears the rest of the dress off.

He licks his lips upon seeing your already soaked underwear. Your arousal was already sending him spiraling. Instantly, Hoseok spreads your legs and presses his face in between them. He doesn’t remove your underwear; instead, he teases you with them on. Pressing his tongue against your wet area, breathing against it, and making you ultimately squirm.

Your hands went straight to his hair, tugging and pulling at it. You needed something to hold onto as his arms wrapped around your legs. Holding you tightly to his mouth as he had absolutely no mercy, every single inch he could touch. Starting at your entrance and licking the fabric upwards. Making your underwear soaked with your arousal. The way you begged for him was enough to boast Hoseok’s ego.

So much so that he decided to be merciful and pull the fabric slightly off to the side. Now placing his lips against your skin gently, kissing your folds as he does so. “H-Hoseok..” You huffed your cheeks, turning brighter while you held onto his hair tighter. “P-Please stop teasing me..” you murmur, biting your lower lip now.

“If I went in raw,” Hoseok starts not even batting an eye in your direction. “It would hurt like hell. I need to prep you,” he mentions using his fingers to tear at the seams of the fabric. Watching as it falls apart since he was starting to get slightly impatient. Sex was complicated when one was beginning to go crazy with lust. Plus, Hoseok never really enjoyed fabric in the first place. It was extremely unnecessary.

“But, I need you..” You puff out eyes flickering with small gold flecks; the further your body and soul were filled with desire. This didn’t stop Hoseok; instead he kept such information in mind. He continued with his foreplay. His tongue was pressing against your clit, even rolling it against the slick muscle. Eventually, his fingers found their way towards your folds and teased your entrance.

One slim finger curled itself inside as he pushed it inwards. You gasped, tugging some hair to the side while your legs wrapped tighter around his torso. You could feel him smile against your skin, his hot breath causing goosebumps to litter wherever it touched.

Then it continued. Hoseok was pumping his single-digit inside until he decided to add more. Stretching the walls of your pussy until he could fit three fingers inside. His tongue still pressed against your clit, which caused your legs to start shaking. The amount of pleasure you were receiving was enough to make you cover your mouth with one hand. You had no idea how thin his walls were, and you weren’t going to embarrass him.

You could already feel your end start to string itself together. The way the knots in your stomach formed and how heavy your breathing became. Hoseok noticed the signs as well and ultimately decided to go against them. Pulling himself away from you, only to smirk at your expression.

You saw your essence all over his lips and some of it on his chin. The sight itself was erotic and an image you didn’t want to forget. Hoseok leans in again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up off the counter. “I think it would be more comfortable if we continued this in my bedroom,” he says in a raspy voice.

No words came from your mouth as you couldn’t seem to find any to say. Instead, you simply wrapped your legs around his waist and arms loosely around his neck. He pressed your naked body against his clothed one and continued towards his bedroom.

Where he gently set you down and rounded the bed. He grabbed a bottle of lube as he wanted to get straight to the point. If Hoseok wasn’t feeling this pent up lust, he would offer you to suck him. However, he simply wanted to feel his cock stretch your walls as much as possible.

You, on the other hand, didn’t get a good look around his room. Since it was dark out, you simply managed to pick out a few things. The nightstand that was on the right and his dresser. Your attention was caught else were as Hoseok stripped out of his dress pants and boxers. He then proceeds to get in between your legs again. He was lathering himself with the transparent substance, grunting as the friction felt great against his hard-on.

Your attention was drawn to the massive erection he held in between his legs. You gulped down whatever words you finally managed to chalk up, then glanced back at him. Hoseok gave you another half-smile, one that showed one of his dimples, then placed both hands on your hips. “I promise to be as careful as possible, sweetheart,” he says, his hands moving down to spread your thighs.

You nod in agreement, then reached out to grab something. That something was the sheets since his body wasn’t as close to yours. Hoseok presses his tip against your slick, and using one hand moves it up and down. Allowing it to lather him further and make him shiver slightly. You puff out a breath of air your knuckles turning white as you wanted him to do more than just that.

As if Hoseok was reading your mind, he finally decides to push himself in. Slowly inserting his tip, then his shaft. The initial stretch stung as you hadn’t had someone this significant in awhile. Your walls weren’t used to it, but that didn’t stop you from asking for more.

Eventually, he pushed himself all the way in. His grip was tightening on your thighs as that burning sensation stayed. He allowed a couple of seconds for both parties to breath, but then quickly gave in to his instincts. Both bodies rocked against the bed, which protested with its groans and light scraping against the wood.

Your hands moved from the bed to grasp his shoulder blades since his body became closer. Your eyes squeezed shut as you finally felt some kind of release to the built-up tension you two had created. His thrusts were rough and quick, but his grip was tight. He even lifted your hips up off the bed and dug his feet into his floorboards.

Rocking back and forth at a steady pace. Your moans grew louder the faster he went, and you even cried out when he gave attention to your throbbing bud. You two weren’t making love, no. You were both trying to find ways to get off at this point, which made things crazy.

You dragged your nails down his blades and to his mid to upper back. Hoseok growled in your ear, turning his head to the side and sinking his teeth into your skin. A wolf’s bite doesn’t hurt when they’re mating. To a human, it would feel like such horrible pain, but to a wolf, it just felt like two were connecting their strings together. The rush of endorphins and other emotions blocked out any source of pain as a Hoseok bit you.

In the spur of the moment, you broke skin. His blood trickled down the sides where you scratched him, the pain only sending Hoseok into a frenzy. He let go of your neck with a loud popping like sound. Then he pulled himself back and wrapped his fingers around your neck.

You grasp for air, the sensation making your own smile appear. “You like that, don’t you omega?” he spat snapping his hips, particularly hard at the formal name. You tried to make a small sound, but since the air was being sucked from your lungs, you simply couldn’t.

His eyes flashed again, and he squeezed tighter; his movements becoming harder by the second. He figured out where that bundle of nerves was and continued to hit it over and over again. Sending you into a frenzy of your own as your previous orgasm came back again.

“You think you can carry my pups?” Hosek growls, leaning in after finally releasing your neck. As you gasp for air, you silently answer him.

“Yes, Hoseok,”

“What? I couldn’t hear you?” Smack! The sound of his palm hitting your thigh run in your ear.

“Yes, Hoseok!” You cry arching your back up into his, your legs automatically shifting themselves upwards. “Yes, I’ll get nice and swollen for you. Only for you!”

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, licking the shell of your ear and pounding himself over and over until you eventually come undone all over him. Your body went into a state of orgasmic pleasure. You shook against him, feeling the waves of your orgasm take over.

Then, you felt his seed pour itself deep into your womb. Filling you to the brim, making you give a lazy smile in response. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy your own needs as you grew hungry for him again. When Hoseok pulls out of you, your eyes immediately went in between his legs.

His length was still hard but now mixed with not only your cum but his as well. Automatically, you shifted yourself off of him and rolled over onto your stomach. Lifting your ass up and wiggling it in his face. At first, Hoseok had to put himself together before releasing what you were doing.

Then, he simply smirks, although you didn’t see it. He pulls his hand back and smacks your ass, the sound once again ringing through your ears. “Just couldn’t get enough, could you?” he says, spreading your cheeks and pressing his dick to your ass.

“With you? Absolutely not.” then pausing for a second. “Let’s see how long we can go.”

“I bet we can last an entire week.” You chuckle at his response, turning your head around. Which was a bad idea because he pushed himself in again, now stretching your ass. Your grip tightens on the bed as you shift yourself back into him. It hurt, but not enough to make you cry.

“Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me, Hoseok.”

#littlemeowmeowschimmy #bangtanarmynet #bts #bangtan #bts x reader #werewolf au #bts werewolf au #wolf in heat #smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #bts jung hoseok x reader #werewolf hoseok

574 notes · View notes