#but it also has the figurative meaning of like. forming the pattern of something?

[tempests-bards-and-birds]

learning languages is fun because you'll come across a new word that doesn't really translate that succinctly into your first language and when you get an idea of the meaning it's like :O

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 4:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5.

This chapter is brought to you by myyyyyyy🎉birthday🎉 woohoo 🥳 I hath aged

It's a little bit shorter, but I mean come on it's a unique chapter soooo it's cool guys I swear

Lots more Batfam content this time, albeit Tim centric. I'll balance it out in the future I swear! Also it's still platonic, but you could probably get a romantic reading from this a lil bit if you try

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0

----

A few days have passed since your encounter with Red Robin. He hasn't shown up since, but another thing has.

Your work had sent you an email. An invitation to Wayne Enterprises, to represent them. According to them, your location was the closest to Wayne Enterprises, and so you were selected. You lived 50 minutes away from Wayne Enterprises. Their home office was 30 minutes away. You weren't sure who was doing the math here, but they needed some more practice.

That being said, you could notice a pattern when there was one. This was Tim Drake's attempt to get you out of your home. And unfortunately, it was going to work. You needed your job. It was perfect, remote, didn't bother you as long as you got the work done. Jobs like that were rare, especially in Gotham.

Not for the first time, you kinda felt like crying.

If Red Robin, your soulmate, was indeed Tim Drake, then what was this? Did he have you figured out? Or was he continuing the investigation?

You didn't know...

Refusing to show up would get you fired. There was no way around that. But, what if you couldn't go?

What if you were too injured to go? There's no way you could fake something, the bats are quite literally master detectives. That and your soul animal form would likely reveal the uninjured truth.

Maybe if you injured yourself?

No, no no no. That was a bad route to go down. If this meeting is to check whether you are soulmates with him, a matching injury on your soul animal form would be like a criminal and a suspect having the same tattoo.

There wasn't really any option here. Which, really, is just typical for the vigilantes of Gotham.

"Ughhh." You groaned to yourself, cradling your hands with your head. You glared over at Red, who had been showing up much more frequently these past few days (which was saying something, since all your soul animals were already by you 23/7). Red gave a small chirp in reply, some sort of smugness in its tone.

Maybe it was time to invest in wind chimes or something. You heard they can scare off robins.

You felt like you were going to need it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Tim's developed something of a guilty habit.

It wasn't a bad thing, per se. Nothing B would particularly frown at. Dick might even agree.

He imagined you wouldn't quite feel the same, though.

You looked especially fragile, as you slept. During the day your face was haunted by false bravado, a paranoid edge to every smile. Sleep smoothed out the lines of your face, giving a softer touch to your slumbering form.

You frown when he reaches out to poke your cheek. It's cute. His hand twitches for his camera. You're always cute, whether it's a small little frown on your face or beaming joy.

He's developed a new favorite activity. Alongside solving cases, he's now watching you. He wants to observe it all. From little habits to obvious passions, he wants to know everything. Hobbies, skills, loves, DNA. He'd only just found you, the answer to the mystery that he's been in since birth. He's had a lot of time to build up this obsession.

He wants and wants and needs. He can wait to take.

You are a light sleeper, but he's a quiet stalker. You don't always drink milk before bed, but when you do, you'll get a little more tired than usual. Your groggy face is cute, too.

He reached out, stroking your hair with the slightest of a smile beginning on his face. It was soft. It reminded him of you, your soul animal form. It had flinched away from him earlier, as it always does whenever they were in uniform. Finding that you do the same as a human wasn't so surprising.

They had adapted to your soul form’s skittishness. They could do the same again. His mind briefly flashed through some ideas, an ankle bracelet, a watch, a collar? If it was on the ankle, you'd match.

He broke out of his musings at the shift of movement. A flutter of wings. B’s soul animal flew down perching on a piece of furniture nearby as a vantage point. He smirked. Looked like he wasn't the only one feeling a little possessive tonight.

He must've been thinking of you. Not surprising, given that your soul form was scheduled time with him today. They had to work out a schedule, else there would have been a lot more stabbings. Not that it didn't prevent sudden abductions occasionally, thanks Jason.

That was fine though. B could have you tonight, Damian could have you tomorrow, Dick the next. Because Tim had the real you, right here.

And he wasn't planning on letting go.

There's a room he's preparing inside Drake manor. He’d put your name on it, but that would be too obvious if anyone came around. Instead, it would be his little secret with you. He's only just met you, but he has plenty of ideas for it already.

He didn't feel guilty for this. Not at all.

You were his as much as he was yours after all. If there was a problem with these feelings, then why would fate itself tie you to him?

If anything, the only guilt he’d feel is not telling anyone else. He couldn't help it, he just wanted you to himself for a while. He caught you, so he was allowed to have you.

But was that really guilt? Or just annoyance at the idea of getting caught?

An alert on his communicator made him frown, taking him out of the trance he had felt into. There was more he had to do.

A shame, but it was fine. He got to spend some quality time with you, taken a few things for the future. He’d make more time. And you'll have all the time in the world for him. But first…

Tim withdrew a specialty camera from his utility belt, raising it to his face. He adjusted a few settings, then…

Snap!

~ ~ ~ ~

You fought the urge to yawn. You have been so sleepy lately. You had to wake up especially early for today. Lovely.

At least today was the moment of truth. You'd show Red Robin for once and for all that you were perfectly normal, and not at all his soulmate. He’d lose interest, and your life would return to its domesticity.

The one good thing going for today was that you're somehow accompanied by none of your soul animals. A truly rare occasion that is ruined by the fact that you're instead visiting a soulmate in the flesh. If any of your soul animals do show up, you have your old reliable bag to shove them into. So, you should be alright.

Wayne Enterprises was a terrifying image, but you steadied yourself with the fact that your whole life’s freedom was at stake here, which was much more terrifying. After that you could get through the door. Security just letting you through after giving your name almost had you running out the door though, you'd admit.

The elevator ride was long and solemn, giving you time to think about everything. Maybe you should think about moving, staying in Gotham was perhaps a ridiculous sentiment to begin with. It was a shame though, you were a Gothamite through and through, you didn't want to leave the country your parents lived and raised you in.

Still, perhaps it was time to leave. Things were getting too risky. Thinking about it, Wayne Enterprises? Honesty what even was your life.

The ding of the elevator door interrupts your musings, an assistant directing you to Tim Drake’s office.

As you walk over, you can't help but listen in to some shouting coming from the room.

A younger voice is yelling. “Give me them! You do not deser-” The voice gets cut off, as an older voice yells back. “It is my turn, you do not get to just steal them!”

The younger voice starts up again, but so does the older voice, alongside what you can only presume to be fighting noises.

You just kinda stare at the door. You are a working professional, representing your company to the prestigious Wayne Enterprises. You came here with lofty expectations and responsibilities to fulfill. And the CEO… is fighting someone in his office.

You have no idea what to do.

A minute passes.

You started to think about signaling an assistant to come help, but before you could do so the fighting seemed to end with a shouted “Fine! But B will hear about-” you can't hear the rest, as the shouting returns to a normal volume.

A door is opened and slammed, footsteps retreating away from the office. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that Tim Drake’s office has two doors that lead in different places, because it means you didn't have to meet whoever he was fighting.

A second or two later, the door in front of you swings open. Tim Drake is facing you, his hair a little askew, and his cheeks a little red. He smiles, an easy thing. It's as if the sight of you brought it to his face.

“Welcome!” He waves you in, somehow not acknowledging what you just heard in any form. The objects in his office are perfectly aligned. Nothing looks disturbed at all. How?

He waves you over to a chair, settling into one himself.

“Well.” He begins. “It's nice to see you again, Y/n."

You hope this goes by quickly.

[celestial-sphere-press]

what kind/style of endbands do you usually do? they look so good 👀

hi!! sorry for taking a while to answer, I wanted to make sure I could give you my best answer.

I usually do what's called a "double core" endband. I use double core endbands over the "bead on front" method because bead on front style is not great for uneven distributions of color, irregular patterns, or using more than three colors. Functionally it works by having your extra threads wrapped up inside the thread that is showing, forming the smaller secondary core. Ultimately you are doing figure 8s around the main core & then your secondary core of thread. This keeps things pretty neat & tidy. The tutorial I first used was this one by DAS Bookbinding, though I don't think his endband tutorials are his best ones. Another binder I've spoken with endbands about a lot is maleeka, who recently did an endband tutorial herself.

maybe I should do one... but it takes a lot for me to get enough motivation to make videos. I'll take this opportunity to write up some tips I've shared when people ask instead:

1. Endband core material is the MOST IMPORTANT component. You need a core that is stiff but flexible - it should NOT be floppy because it wiggles everywhere under the tension of the thread, but still needs to flex with the opening & closing of the book. You want something that doesn't compress, to reduce tension shifts in thread creating a lumpy endband. Have a smooth core is less critical but helps to avoid snagging threads & allows you some leeway on sliding threads around for adjustments. My personal choice is smooth leather jewelers cord (link is just an example, I get mine from a local craft store).

2. Thread size. All your threads need to be the same size; it will be visible if you are using two different sizes, and mess with your front core. Additionally, I know lots of people will use larger twists of multiple strands of embroidery thread, which can work, but is more likely to compress & alter its size in unexpected ways. A single strand is preferable. If you want something thicker you can find some thread weights that are heavier twists intended to be used in a single strand, not pulled apart. I prefer smaller sizes because it works better for the gradient designs I like.

3. Silk thread is your friend (if you can spend the money on it). It reduces fuzz (no fuzz like you get with cotton/DMC embroidery thread), it's usually easier to manage, has a more compact twist, and a higher shine. I use Japanese silk hand sewing thread in size #9 (9号). There's multiple brands (Tire, Daruma, KNK/kanagawa, etc). Here's a wholesale listing (minimum 20,000¥ for international). A non-Japanese brand is Guterman silk (German brand). Both the Japanese & German threads come in a heavier weight (Japanese is #16, Guterman is buttonhole).

4. Thread tension is the most important part of the actual technique. You need to ensure the threads currently wrapped in the secondary core keep tension when you are working the thread around them.

5. Working on a curve. This is only really relevant if you're doing an endband on a rounded book, but the circumference of the curve means there's more real estate on the outside vs inside of the curve. Sometimes this can cause bunching on the secondary core. My own solution to this is that sometimes I wrap the primary core but drop a wrap here or there around the secondary core (only between two wraps of the same color I'm dropping). I uh... don't know of anyone currently recommending this besides myself so I can't point to any pro endorsement for this method, it's just what works for me. Forgive my terrible writing:

6. Pattern management. I... don't really plan much how my patterns sit on the spine, which is not very helpful. HOWEVER you can do some pattern management on the fly, if you really want your pattern to end at a certain place. Thread can be packed more or less densely on the core, resulting in some pattern compression; you could also strategically drop wraps in less noticeable locations. An unintended example: I was replicating the pattern on this endband (left) when I realize I wasn't packing the thread as densely as I had the first time around (right), which resulted in the overall pattern taking up more space. You can do this on purpose, if you need to.

this was way more than you asked but it gave me a chance to put all this in one spot. Best of luck in vanquishing the dreaded EndWyrms.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

(the rare) Ghost's Empire of Icks

I'm gonna be honest, I think a lot about Ghost, but I don't put much to paper. I think that it's because maybe I write so much König that I don't have much time for the big Brit. I do like him, but ya know, time. And energy too. However, today I woke up and I chose British. I must be true to my heritage.

Art from This Post

So! Ghost is rather different from the others because I suspect that every spark of joy in this man's heart is naught but a wee ember. He's genuinely such a massive killjoy it's insane.

There is no doubt in my mind that Ghost is the hardest person in the 141 to get along with. Not because he's mean, he's just... Flat.

See, the problem with Ghost is that he makes jokes all the time, it's just nobody but the 141 team picks up on them.

Ghost has the driest black British humour known to mankind. It's insanely hard to tell when he's joking about having beaten a man to death for a cup of coffee or if he actually did it. The problem is that there's a very good chance he isn't joking, but who's gonna tell the you that he's not? It's funny to watch you try and figure it out yourself.

Struggle, bitch.

That's essentially the T141 motto when it comes to figuring out Ghost's character. Gotta learn to earn, baby.

But the thing is, a pattern starts to form.

Whenever something goes wrong, Ghost will make the flattest joke you've ever heard.

*Car breaks down* Ghost: "Whelp, looks like we're walkin' boys. Cheer up, it's only a ten mile hike. We'll be there soon enough."

That's how subtle his humour is. You might genuinely mistake it for optimism if you didn't know him better. It's hard to follow sometimes, his jokes can be a wee bit cerebral, but he's a funny guy in all honesty. Not bad company after all.

Ghost might be the hardest person to really get in the 141, but if you crack the code he's absolutely hilarious. He genuinely is! It's just usually the most sarcastic one-liner you've ever heard.

If it's not hard to get Ghost's jokes, it's easy to understand how he feels about good ol' Great Britain.

He's a bloody patriot.

Patriotic to a fault.

That's not to say he can't take a joke, of course not. Hell, he's cracking them half the time. He is totally fine with laughing off how shitty his country is

But if you genuinely mean it? If you genuinely think Britain suck? Oh he has words. Maybe not out loud, but he's judging you hardcore.

You don't like the rain? Tough. Rain's what makes the Englishman a hardened man.

You don't like all their slang? Get used to it. If he can learn American slang to get your movies and use South African to go undercover, you can learn his. He's pretty petty about this too.

If you think Britain has a lot to answer for? He does agree, he's not going to advocate for colonialism and genocide, but also 'the past is the past so there's not much use dredging it back up'. He's a bit of a prick about this actually. I could have a lot to say to him, but he's too patriotic to really accept any faults.

He's also just really obnoxious about anything British. If it was invented by a Brit? He'll be sure to bring it up (notably will not bring up the fact that the inventor was actually Welsh/Scottish/Northern Irish)

Tying in with his patriotism, Ghost is a bit... Stubborn. He's a bit of a stick in the mud, if you will. Bullheaded to a fault. He'll refuse to admit to something going wrong in his life in any way shape of form. Unfortunately, this mostly shows up when his hearing bothers him.

"Once went to a concert in Stonehenge. Crackin' good concert, but I got a ringin' in my ears for weeks afterwards. Still got it, if I'm gonna be honest."

"Wasn't that when you enlisted in the military? You know, started doing firearms training?"

"Well yeah. Why?"

It will take ages to get Simon's attention. Not because he's not interested, but because he just can't hear too well. When it's quiet he can filter noise easily enough, but if you're trying to get his attention in a club it's next to impossible.

When he's in loud situations, he's learned to rely a fair bit on lip reading. He'll never admit it, of course. He can hear just fine, you know.

He is too stubborn to take a hearing test. You'll just have to suffer with yelling at him when he's just in the next room or having to go hunt him down in the house whenever you need to get his attention.

Speaking of, finding Ghost is a whole issue in and of itself. He's a big man, about 6'5 (maybe a bit under but nobody would dare question him), and pretty broad. However, when he's moving about, he's entirely silent.

The problem with this is that Ghost likes to walk around quite a bit. If you leave to go do some shopping and ask him to wait outside the changing rooms, he'll bugger off and do his own thing.

You can't call his name, but you can try his phone. You just have to hope he has it on him. Or that it's charged, he's horrible for keeping it uncharged.

He's a bit of a menace with his sneaking off. Usually it's fine, but sometime you need him right now and he's off in the ether doing whatever

You'll get a phone call from the bank that he needs to take immediately and you'll spend the next fifteen minutes scurrying around the house trying to find him. You can't call his name, you just have to hope you find him as the person on the other end of the line steadily grows more irate with each passing minute.

It's a genuine nightmare scenario that you have to go through on a monthly basis

Once you find him, he's under his car in the garage fixing something and he's completely oblivious as to why you're so upset.

"If you needed me so badly, why didn't you just yell my name?"

You're going to kill him in his sleep one day.

Anyways, those are just some of my thoughts. I think he's a big gross man but I love him. He's just so grumpy all the time that it's fun. Grumpy, sarcastic, bitter. The perfect man.

Ghost Dump

Ghost Headcanons

[cult-of-the-rizz]

I was talking to my bestie @cultoftheswag on vc and the neurons started firing after watching the sin cutscene, so, theories on secondary aspects of each crown (long post) (maybe insane sounding and barely readable):

This all started off as theorizing that the sin snake is actually the being inside the crown (not a god but more like the crown is sentient) that has finally woken due to lamb's accumulated power. Expanding on that theorizes all crowns have a sentience, but based on this line, not all of the crown bearers awakened their crowns:

Bestie (Swag) pointed out that the only other crown with 2 aspects was the purple crown, Shamura, who has both war and knowledge. With the previous theory, it means that Shamura awakened their crown and brought forth the secondary domain; knowledge.

Which leads me to the brain worm thought of "what are the other crown's secondary aspects?" Well.

Lock the fuck in cuz I did

Each crown has 2 aspects that follow the same pattern:

The primary aspects of green, yellow, blue and purple are all sub categories of the red crown (chaos, famine, disease and war all bring death) and the same can be said for the mirrored aspect (order, abundance, health and peace all bring life)

There is also a pattern in the primary aspects of 4 being solid events (famine, disease, war, death AND order, abundance, health, life) and one conceptual (chaos and peace)

With this in mind, all secondary aspects might be sub categories of the red crown's secondary aspect, sin. Except, knowledge isn't a sin, so like what the fuck, right? Ok but what if I told you that knowledge isn't the sinful aspect of the purple crown, but the opposite of it.

The sin snake mentions being able to control and use the sins of your followers and that you alone, as their god, is capable of forgiving them or letting them be taken over by sin. This would mean that the mirror aspect of sin would be absolution. If the purple crown's aspect of knowledge isn't the sin, then knowledge is the path of absolution of a sin. A sin like deceit and deception.

This still doesn't bring me any closer to figuring out the other crowns but I will not be defeated. Upon a little bit of shallow research, there appears to be the concept of mortal sins in Christianity/Christo aligned faith. Excluding the seven deadly sins from the list of mortal sins and anything faith related (because it would be pointless if a crown's sin power was to make you not believe in your god. Like, that would suck. It would kill the crown's own cult which which bishop derives their power from.)

That leaves the following aspects: murder, adultery and theft. Since Shamura's secondary aspect is confirmed to be knowledge, the mirror aspect has to be deceit even though it is not a named mortal sin. Though, I'm fairly certain lying and being untruthful would generally be considered a sin in most religious settings.

All three fall into the same pattern as the primary aspects:

Murder, adultery, theft, deceit are all forms of sin, while the opposite aspects, repentance, loyalty, charity and knowledge are all ways to absolve or correct those sins. The red crown still holds dominion over the others.

Murder, adultery, theft and deceit/ repentance, charity, knowledge and absolution are solid events where sin and loyalty are conceptual aspects.

So now onto who has what, which secondary aspects belong to which crown. This is just my working theory but after thinking about it for a while, I think I have it.

Leshy/ the green crown has the primary aspect of chaos/order and secondary aspect of murder and repentance. Though Leshy may not have awakened his crown to learn this, it would makes sense if Darkwood cultists remembered that murder is favored by the green crown. Hence why Darkwood is so incredibly full of bodies plastered ritualistically on trees.

Heket/ the yellow crown has the primary aspect of famine/abundance and the secondary aspect of adultery and loyalty. Idk how to describe it, but something about abundance feels like it would fit well with adultery, like the overconsumption and joy of prosperity leading to immorality, resulting in a punishing famine that forces loyalty upon Anura's denizens.

Kallamar/ the blue crown has the primary aspect of disease/health and the secondary aspect of theft and charity. We all KNOW Kallamar was not charitable ok. Anchordeep's temple was said to be beautiful and covered in opulent crystals and gold. He may have acted charitable to his devoted followers but in a "ooooh I'll give your struggling village a beautiful crystal statue of me to pray to, isn't that nice?" kind of way.

Though, neither Leshy, Heket or Kallamar successfully awakened their crowns, I feel like the aspects would still be a part of their domains and personalities. Even Narinder may not have been able to awaken his crown, but due to the fact that he was imprisoned and weakened through lack of faith powering the crown (credit to Swag who said this as I'm typing this whole post live on discord) (Swag says hi!!!!!)

Also as a side note, maybe the other crowns manifest as objects related to their other aspect. Clearly the red crown is a snake cuz, sin, but perhaps Shamura's would a divine book or if we stayed with the animal theme, an owl. (shoutout to me and swag losing our shit over "leshy's is a glock" and "kallamar's are airpods cuz they're overpriced and always get stolen")

This was not part of my original theory, but it came to mind joking about Kallamar's divine blue crown airpods, but what if Narinder's damage to his siblings is what kept the other three from awakening their crowns? Like, it damaged them as vessels of their crowns enough they were no longer seen as worthy to awaken them. That would make Narinder a huge bitch but what else is new tbh.

[stars-obsession-pit]

So a person requested (in messages) me to write a drabble thing based on this prompt. I’m not really into de-aged characters, but I thought of a way to focus it more on Jason’s reaction rather than the childcare part and felt cool with writing that.

So, uh, hope you like this I guess, @phantomrosereader…

Alright. Alright. Alright alright alrigh—

Nope. They’re still there. Fuck. Jason is not at all prepared to be a father. Nor does he want to show back up at the manor right now carrying two children and be forced to explain all this.

Wait, how did the kids even get there? Who was the mother? Why did they never contact him before?

…Did they contact him before? Can he really be certain he’s not missing any more memories?

He forcefully shook his head. No. No focusing on that right now. He’s fine. No spiraling allowed. He has to deal with this first.

Seriously, fuck. How is he a dad?

He… he should look into the mother. At least then he’d have more to go off of when he talks to Alfred. The note did give a name, but it wasn’t nearly enough to go off of on its own. Danny is hardly an uncommon name. Although, it does seem like a guy’s name—maybe Danny is trans? That would narrow the search down, but would that be enough? Even if he could get it down to just a handful of options, he had no way to determine which Danny was his. The kids seemed to have mostly inherited his own appearance…

Wait, that’s it! Genetic tests!

Despite his strained relationship with the other Bats, he still has access to their resources. A test wouldn’t take too long to give results. And also, it might reveal some other info like allergies he’d need to know.

***

Jason frowned at his laptop as his eyes flitted across the details of the error message. Apparently, some parts of the kids’ genes had been completely unreadable to the scanner and thus it couldn’t form a full profile.

Sighing, he clicked the popup closed. He could at least look at what results had come through. Maybe they’d be enough.

That hope dwindled as he scanned the full data, the corruption looking more dire than he expected. Even if the legible parts did succeed at painting a picture of the kids being related, the swaths of gibberish made meaningfully searching for the mother likely hopeless. However, there did seem to be a pattern to the broke areas. Something tickled at the back of his mind. He felt like he’d seen this before. Could that mean the mother was a meta or alien? Those were on a separate database, so that might resolve the issue. But that would require him to go to the manor, and he was still very hesitant to do that.

So instead, he pulled up his own test results to compare. Maybe they’d let him figure something ou—

He froze.

That’s why he recognized the corruption. Ever since his revival, his own genetic results exhibited almost the exact same pattern of issues.

Oh Hell, did the kids inherit the side effects of the Pit from him?

He looked over at the kids, sleeping peacefully in their seats, and prayed that they hadn’t. He didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself if they had to suffer through the Pit Rage their whole lives just because of him.

He… he had to go to the manor. There was no pushing this off any longer. This situation was far too big for him to deal with on his own. He couldn’t risk leaving his kids to suffer alone.

Hopefully Alfred with his parenting skills and Damian with his knowledge of the Lazarus Pits (and similar experience of being descended from a user of them) would be able to help. Or if that failed, maybe he could guilt trip Bruce into getting the Justice League Dark to help.

[redsugarx]

Hanfu in Components: Structure Conventions (pt2)

Thanks for the love on the last post, I’ve been motivated to continue writing LOL Anyway: Construction/sewing pattern/structure is very important to hanfu!

There are a few important structure conventions when it comes to hanfu—almost all traditional-cut hanfu follow these rules; you could call them the defining characteristics of hanfu. There are exceptions to every rule of course (I will go over some caveats at the end of this post), but generally if a hanfu design ignores these rules we might consider it to be ‘incorrect.'

(There will be a longer follow-up pt. 3 post to this explaining the anatomy of a hanfu top/robe, where there will be more detailed in-context illustrations and descriptions. I just figured I should list these ‘rules’ somewhere separately.)

中縫/中缝/zhong1 feng4/Center Seam

Take a look at your shirts. Is there a shoulder seam between the front of the shirt and the back of the shirt? Western clothing tends to consist of a front piece + back piece sewn together to create a space for your body to sit in：

Hanfu doesn’t work like that. Traditionally, the garment isn’t separated into a front piece and back piece: it’s separated into a right piece and left piece, which are joined together at the vertical center seam. Why? Traditional fabric has a narrower width than the standard ~145cm that we have today, so a long, narrow piece is less wasteful to cut out from a bolt of silk than a wide one.

Therefore there is always a center seam, one running vertically down the front and one down the back. 中 = center, 縫 = seam, so 中縫 means center seam. There’ll be a front center seam （前中縫） and a back center seam （後中縫）.

不破肩/不破肩/bu2 po4 jian1/No Broken Shoulder

Kind of an addendum onto the previous point? Additionally since the body pieces are separated into left/right rather front/back, there’s no seam at the top of the shoulder here. The fabric is simply draped over the arm/shoulder to hang down, covering the torso on both sides.*

*Caveat: Some modified hanfu that vendors sell today will have a shoulder seam, especially thicker winter garments or short-sleeved garments. This is a design choice made to prevent the fabric from looking too stiff, known as 破肩/破肩/po4 jian1，literally “broken shoulder.” It can look great, lots of hanfu makers do it! But just to be clear, that is a MODIFICATION.

接袖/接袖/jie1 xiu4/Sleeve Connection

Western clothing patterns tend to have something where the fabric of the sleeve gets connected to the fabric of the garment’s body at the shoulder/armpit, often with a concave arm hole shape to help with the contours of the garment when it’s worn.

Hanfu sleeves, on the other hand, are never connected at the armpit—they are connected halfway down the arm. In other words, the piece of fabric that forms the body extends to also cover the upper arm part of the sleeve. The actual sleeve piece is connected to the body at the bicep/elbow area via a flat seam. (In the case of half- or no- sleeve garments there might just not be a separate sleeve piece.)

右衽/右衽/you4 ren4/"Right Over Left" Rule

Applies to cross-collar, some varieties of round collar, and some varieties of standing collar tops. In the case that the front of the garment crosses over itself, the flap coming from the wearer’s left goes OVER the flap coming from the wearer’s right. Easiest way to make sense of this is, if you’re looking at someone wearing a cross-collar hanfu top, the cross will look like a lowercase y.

Caveats

NO RULE EXISTS WITHOUT EXCEPTION!!! These rules exist because a majority of hanfu follow them and they are a standard that people agree on right now. However, there are ALWAYS cases—historically or otherwise—where these rules may be broken. For example, there are several Ming Dynasty cross collar robes that happen to be left over right, and the location of the sleeve seam can differ based on what garment you're looking at.

Also, many modern hanfu manufacturers will deliberately choose to break these 'rules' in favor of aesthetics. This is a purposeful design choice—not one that's done out of ignorance or disrespect. It's easy for common modifications to get mistaken for 'historically accurate.' To be clear, it is 100% okay and super common for modifications to exist! Just don't go around claiming that it was historically that way.

My advice is that if you're starting out with hanfu, try to stick to these rules in the back of your head as closely as possible. Once you've built your foundational knowledge, then you can start exploring the exceptions to the rules. These rules may not be foolproof, but they are a useful tool to help you understand the commonalities and trends within hanfu without overwhelming you.

Last note: it is generally more of a taboo for seams that should exist to not exist in a piece of clothing (i.e. no center back seam) than for extra seams to exist. If you go look in museums for the artifacts that hanfu is based off of, you'll notice that a lot of them—especially the ones from earlier dynasties—are a chaotic patchwork of a bunch of random piece of fabric sewn together to create the garment. Fabric is expensive, people don't want to waste it! So it's not all that weird to have seams in random places.

Happy 除夕 everyone! 有蛇有得 :>

[elbiotipo]

your post about potatoes in fantasy worlds made me base my primary fantasy continent off sudamérica so i could use fantasy versions of andean and amazonian fauna/flora. I'm still trying to figure out how to change the geography enough to have the big desert i want in the right area(andes get an offshoot that encircles a rain shadow desert in the central north is the best idea i have) but actually being forced to consider how native wildlife works and needing to create trade routes if i wanted imported crops was fun. i was also trying to figure out why the southern hemisphere has more hot climates than the north and something said it's because the south on earth has less landmass so i think having the northern hemisphere above it be mostly tropical works if I have mostly archipelagos? also every time i see a european based fantasy have potatoes or tomatoes i shake my head and scowl.

The reason why the Southern Hemisphere seems to have more hot climates is indeed simply because the continental parts don't spread that far South to actually cold southern latitudes. The only place that really sticks that far south to have a truly cold climate is the Patagonia. And of course, Antarctica, which by coinicidence, basically surrounds the South Pole.

Here is a map of "temperate" latitudes, or rather, latitudes between the tropics and the polar circles (as someone who lives here, or indeed an Australian can tell you, many places there are not "temperate" at all but more on that below). What is important here is that the southern hemisphere has less places closer to the pole, except, again, Antarctica, while the northern hemisphere has lots of land near the poles. This is why we don't have our equivalents of say, Siberia, for example. The closest thing is again, Patagonia. Honestly an underused place for worldbuilding, with the steppe, the glaciers, the temperate rainforests, and the recently extinct megafauna, but I digress.

You could in fact have a tropical "north" if you keep most of the northern hemisphere's landmasses near the equator (here I'm picturing some kind of big Indonesia or Caribbean, an area where tectonic plates collide and there's lots of volcanic islands and lands), and you could place a big continent in the South to make it a cold South. Interesting reversal on the cold North/warm South of most settings.

This would bring some interesting effects, though. Placing a big landmass on any pole (not a small one like Antarctica) would lead to glaciation, as land is "colder" or rather less moderated by ocean (more on that later) and glaciers grow, and glaciers and arid land have greater albedo, reflectivity, that is, and so they reflect more sunlight, thus those place become colder, and the glaciers keep growing, and so on, until there is an ice-age. I don't have the link where I read it with me, but I recall that continents shifting to polar latitudes might have triggered ice-ages in Earth's past.

Deserts are very tricky to place. The standard worldbuilding recommendation is that the interior of the continents are drier as you get away from the sea, and that mountain chains and high terrain serves as rainshadows that stop rain from the sea. However, there is a lot more to it. A LOT more.

You can find deserts even next to oceans, in the so-called "horse latitudes", the meeting points of the Hadley Cells that circulate air from the Equator to the subtropics and beyond. The details are a bit technical, but what this means basically is that they create jet streams of circulating air at 30° South and North, keeping the climate sunny, warm and dry. This is indeed where many of the world's coastal deserts are: Atacama, Kalahari, and of course, Australia.

Meanwhile, in the equatorial zone, the "trade winds" (because they have regular wind patterns that have historical formed major sea trade routes, worldbuilding hint!) converge in the Equator, forming rainy areas... but not quite that simple.

The Intertropical Convergence Zone, where these winds meet, ocsilates during the year, creating monsoons, but as always, there are lots of factors involved. In particular, given our real life scenario of rapid climate change and global warming, a warmer temperature means more intense ocsilations. This makes monsoon events sharper (more droughts and floods in those regions) and more strong La Niña/El Niño events, which are their own thing, influenced by the Pacific which is a huge factor in global climate.

And this brings me to ocean currents. Usually, being close to the ocean moderates the climate, making it more rainy and warm, or at least stable. However, if the surrounding sea is cool, it means less evaporation and less rainfall, especially if it's influenced by cool polar currents (this is the case of eastern Patagonia, for example, with the cold Malvinas Current). The opposite is the case in, for example, Europe, where the warm gulf stream moderates climate, making it warmer and rainer compared to the same latitudes in the US and Canada. I'll admit I'm not very well informed on how ocean currents work, but the depth and salinity of the ocean have much to do with it. What basically happens is that dense salty water sinks and and this works as a "conveyor belt" for warm less dense surface water to flow over it and over great distances. These currents are slow, but since the ocean is so massive, they move extensive amounts of heat across the world. I will admit defeat here and just say I don't wholly understand how it works, but I can tell you this; if your world has a less salty ocean, your currents will be less strong, which means that the differences of temperature between the poles and the tropics will be sharper as there are no strong currents to overall moderate temperature. If this is all too complex for you as it is to me, the quick cheat is just looking at this map: warm water flows from the equator, and cold water flows from the poles, and they create "gyres" around the oceans and the Equator, and cold currents contribute to colder and drier climates (note the Canary, Benguela and Peru currents, the Malvinas current is not shown for some reason...)

Did I forget something? Oh, yes. A colder climate of course, means less rainfall, because there is less evaporation and there is much water "trapped" in glaciers and snow. Which seems to be the case during the last ice ages. Rainforests and forests in general retreated as deserts expanded. In fact, the few forests that remained served as refugiums for species that only expanded again once the ice age was over. Some especulate that this might meant a 'weakening' of megafauna, as they were trapped in those refuges with lots of interbreeding and weakened populations when humans arrived on the scene. Here is a very interesting map:

Now, there are some contradictions here and there, some researchers have said that the climate wasn't that dry and while I'm not an expert I tend to agree, many parts that are "extreme desert" there might be scrubland instead. But overall, it seems that colder times bring drier times too.

I'm still not done, but I'm almost done! According to the Biotic Pump theory, forests might also influence the climate and rainfall in a big way, basically, evapotranspiration (plants sweat, a lot, 90% of water through a plant evaporates to the atmosphere) in forests might actually create by itself the rainy environment where forests thrive, so for example, the Amazon is a rainforest BECAUSE of the forest there. I think with the increasing droughts here in South America we're seeing that theory proven in practice, as deforestation of the Mata Atlantica, the Chaco and the Amazon is causing less rainfall in the centre of the continent. Forests and plants also have a cooling effect, since they fix carbon dioxide, and also a bit of a warming effect, since they have darker albedo and so absorb more sunlight. I'm going to be very lazy and instead of reading a thousand papers say that they overall have a "moderating" effect.

Well, I could go on and on but I think I've already written way too much, so I'll leave you this to munch on a bit. It might seem like a lot, but when in doubt, you can always "eyeball" it by comparing real regions of Earth, and it will help you to create more interesting world than the omnipresent "spring-summer-fall-winter" temperate standard in so many settings.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! Oh, and also, if you found this helpful or interesting, I would appreciate a tip to my ko-fi!

[leidensygdom]

hello!! i love your art so much, your colors are beautiful and your characters are just so 👁️👁️ and i adore seeing them on my dash :)

i had a question about how you do the details on your fabrics: how do you keep the patterns on clothes on a body looking so,,, clean and readable while also making it make sense on the form under it?

like the cape/sleeve(? idk what it is but it looks cool as hell) on the magnolia commission pattern looks so cool and it's still readable on the fabric (like, if i wanted i could probably do a silly sketch of it) BUT ALSO it seems to make sense with the folds so it doesn't just look unnatural and stiff?

i'm so sorry this is kind of a long ask but like. would you be down to talk about your process for patterns on clothing? it's cool if you're not, that's totally fair, just figured i'd ask

have a wonderful day!!

OOOH Thank you so much for the ask!! I wanna do a more in depth tutorial, but I tend to make patterns in two different ways, with one being fully hand-drawn and the other playing with mesh transforms or the... Uh, liquify CSP tool? Let me find examples

This is an example of a fully hand-drawn pattern. No trickery here- Only trying to eyeball everything. It's kinda a lot of work to draw it manually, but it's the more convenient option if the character I'm drawing doesn't have files for the patterns, or if the files are a bit too different from my usual style, as they could potentially not look great with my linearted or painted style

And then- For cases such as Nolia's cloak, I did the entire pattern as a separate file, then placed it using Photoshop's mesh transform!

Here's a WIP file from when I placed all the patterns after finishing the lineart, where you can see them in full contrast. I tend to keep my patterns in different files- The black parts here are not joined with the base color of the cloth, so I can bring nice highlights and texturing when they're meant to be golden inlays, for example. Now, the Photoshop mesh transform is a bit finnicky to use, and I don't have any proper step by step of it- I could potentially record how I do it someday. But let's take the humble cylinder and demonstrate it quickly:

So, the mesh warp tool is the one on the right- You can see these sort of blue lines creating a mesh. I'm sure CSP has it in it's pro level or something? Correct me if I'm wrong. You play around with the different sections, move it to the right place, and put it on the cylinder. This is a very simplified form. You can make many subsections to your meshes (that's 3x3- you can have stuff such as 20x20) for when you have multiple folds.

And then you can just shade your pattern accordingly so it fits the volume of the drawing, and- ta-daa!

This is by no means an easy method. Sometimes you can get away with the Liquify tool (which CSP has and it's very decent), which I've used when the pattern in question was over a simpler surface with few folds. It takes some practise to use that well, and it isn't gonna be the best for complex ones, but it's also an option. Let me do a lil compilation of some patterns I've done and which tools I used for each!

The tool I use highly depends on the time I have, the level of finish for the drawing, and so on. CSP's liquify is probably the fastest but gives simpler results, drawing them manually works better with some styles and more organic/less geometrical patterns, the mesh tool takes a bunch of time but it's great for small repeating patterns that are meant to be very precise or geometrical.

If people would be interested in it, I may someday do a video tutorial of me doing a pattern and then putting it over a folded cloth. I do hope this can help a bit tho!!

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 13

This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.

This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.

Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.

“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”

“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.

Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.

“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.

“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”

Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”

Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.

“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”

She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”

Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”

Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”

She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”

Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.

On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.

“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”

She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.

Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.

“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.

“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”

Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”

“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”

Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”

Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”

“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.

“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”

Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.

They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.

“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”

Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”

Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”

“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”

Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.

“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.

Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”

Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?

Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”

Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.

In short, Steve hated her on sight.

Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.

Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”

Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”

Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”

He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.

He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.

“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.

Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.

Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”

“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”

Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.

Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.

About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.

“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.

“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”

Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”

“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”

Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.

“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”

“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”

Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”

Karen nodded.

“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.

Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.

It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.

“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.

Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”

The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.

“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.

Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.

“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”

Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”

“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.

Then there came a loud honk.

Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”

He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.

He slid into the front seat.

“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.

“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”

Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.

Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.

And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.

Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.

Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.

****

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[ukiyowi]

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈

Note: These are my observations if it doesn't resonate scroll xx

Masterlist || Tip 🍯

𐂲 I've recently noticed, whatever sign your mars is in and whichever body part that sign rules, can often result in getting accidentally hurt or random in that part. (Example, Mars in gemini = getting hurt on arms/hands, in Capricorn = scalp/knees/teeth, in Aries = head/sometimes cheekbones, etc)

𐂲 One thing I've noticed about Virgo risings is how much they underestimate themselves, they also usually have trouble with anxiety and overthinking

𐂲 Mystic rectangles give a lot of balance to a person but it can also come with multiple internal hardships and conflicts (in forms of insomnia or mental illnesses) and they often need external help to reach their full potential

𐂲 Pluto - Neptune hard aspects especially squares bring into consideration the back and forth between transformation versus illusion, what I mean by that is they have trouble distinguishing patterns in their cycles and may think they're imagining changes rather than believing that it's real (I hope this makes sense I've been trying to word it for the past 5 mins)

𐂲 I know we talk a lot about Leo Risings having great hair but imo Pisces rising have such luscious hair, like they have sm volume and shine to them?? They also look like a waterfall, just flowing, it's so pretty <//3

𐂲 Saturn in 4th/5th/11th house can overshare on the internet about everything going on with their lives

𐂲 Pluto in 6th house feel powerful only when they're working, so they never stop and even when they feel burnt out, they feel their sense of self and self worth is only tied to what they can give, therefore they may face guilt when they try to rest.

𐂲 This is simply a personal observation/theory but I have noticed that people who have a lot of degrees that are higher in number like 20+ often feel more comfortable with people older than them especially if those degrees sit in Pluto or Saturn

𐂲 I've noticed Aries mercuries also have very heavy footsteps, you can hear the thump 😭

𐂲 12th house Pluto are their own best friend and worst enemy, they may enable bad habits for others and justify the same for themselves, HOWEVER once the natives know how to harness the power of Pluto and understand it better, they can be really influential because a lot of people may be subconsciously attracted to the power they possess.

𐂲 Can we talk about Leo risings and how good their self concept is? Like... Please teach me tysm

𐂲 LIBRA PLACEMENTS IN GENERAL HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME WITH HEALTHY BOUNDARIES I'LL CRY- I have a friend with Libra venus and she can never say no to someone especially if she starts liking them :// and it's so hard to see ppl just take advantage of her, I also have friends and relatives with Libra in the big 3 and not only are they complete givers, they also have such a hard time taking, they feel guilty.

✓✓✓ Going to be mean to some of my placements/aspects now

𐂲 Venus conjunct Mars are so fucking clingy but ALSO so flighty🤨🤨choose ??? Do you want to be in this relationship (platonic/romantic) or do you not, stop being so hot and cold (it may help if I tell you both of these are in gemini for me)

𐂲 Chiron - moon placements have mommy issues or wounds related to their mothers/maternal figures in their lives

𐂲 Jupiter virgos can be such doormats at times, just because you want to help people doesn't mean you keep emptying your cup to fill others'.

𐂲 Mercury in 1st have their self worth TIED to their intelligence, like stop flaunting your knowledge, low-key looks insecure.

𐂲 Jupiter opposition Uranus has such rebel without a cause energy, what are you going to "rebel" against now, please sit down for a second

𐂲 Mars Square Ascendant, people with this aspect are always ready to fight, feel like everything is a personal attack, and are terrible at being alone

✓✓✓ Back to your regularly scheduled programme

𐂲 Something I've wanted to say to each stellium I've met so far:

𐂲 Aries: You have a lot of life in you, hand some over🤲🤲🤲, seriously though you guys look at everything with such wonder and curiosity, you're also kinda impatient but that's fine with me :")

𐂲 Sagittarius: You're so cool, I want to be like you, introspective, self aware, your humour is a little concerning at times but you teach me so much all the time, you're the guide I've always wished for

𐂲 Leo: You're a born entertainer and at times I can be a bit envious because of how bright you shine, leaving me in the shadows, but I love you and your love for life regardless, you're a star

𐂲 Gemini: You are so stealthy in everything you do, sometimes you slip through the cracks, a trickster (affectionate), I love how you can be mischievous one second and completely serious the next

𐂲 2nd house: You're just so understanding and make me feel like home, it's like you are home personified, very warm and comforting, also so abundant in everything it's crazy

𐂲 8th house: Stop making me talk about my feelings I'll cry >:(( no but seriously, you guys have something about you that just makes people face what they're avoiding, and you are so good at empathising with them.

[airybcby]

It said requests are open so here I am 🥲 no need to do it if you're busy 😅❤️

My top song was Because by Changbin and Felix and top artist was Stray kids (I mean I was crazy about them this year but still Lana has a special place in my heart 😭💕)

Thank you for your awesome writing! 🌟✨🔥

Hi!!

if your top song was Because by Changbin and Felix, I'd pair you with...

rensuke kunigami

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i want nothing more

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event - masterlist -

♡ content — rensuke kunigami x gn! reader, gn! reader, post-wildcard kunigami, manga spoilers!!!, kunigami knows he's changed, established relationship

♡ synopsis — kunigami rensuke wasn't the same as when he left, but you don't care. you'd be by his side through hell if he wanted you to be.

It’s late, and the room is quiet except for the faint hum of the heater kicking in. You’re sitting on the edge of Kunigami’s couch, fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater, watching him out of the corner of your eye. He’s barely spoken since he got back from his workout—just a clipped “I’m back,” before he disappeared to shower. Now he sits across from you, his body rigid, his sharp eyes fixed on the floor, lost in thought.

He’s different now. You knew that the moment you saw him again after Blue Lock. The warmth in his gaze had been replaced by something harder, darker. His voice, once steady and calm, now carried an edge, as if every word cost him something.

But tonight, he seems... tired. Not in the physical sense—Kunigami’s body is as strong as ever, maybe even stronger—but something inside him feels frayed, like he’s spent too long keeping it all together.

“Rensuke,” you say softly, leaning forward. He doesn’t look up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he mutters.

You sigh. This was becoming a pattern. You’d ask, he’d deflect, and the distance between you would stretch a little further each time. But tonight, something in you snaps. You can’t let him keep shutting you out.

“It’s not nothing,” you press, your voice firmer now. “You’ve been like this for weeks—barely talking, barely looking at me. I know things are different, but—”

“They’re not different,” he cuts in sharply, his head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes are blazing now, frustration and something else—guilt, maybe?—swirling in them. “I’m different. And you know it.”

You stare at him, your heart aching at the weight in his words. He looks away again, his jaw clenched tight, his hands balled into fists on his knees.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “You used to let me in. You used to—”

“I can’t be that person anymore,” he interrupts, his voice low, almost a growl. “That person is gone. And I can’t... I can’t go back.”

The silence that follows is deafening. You feel the sting of his words like a slap, but you also see the cracks forming in his armor—the way his shoulders sag, the way his fists loosen slightly.

“Maybe you can’t go back,” you say quietly, moving to sit beside him. “But you don’t have to shut me out, Rensuke. I’m still here. I still...” You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. “I still care about you. No matter how much you’ve changed.”

He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away again, but then his head drops into his hands, his fingers tangling in his hair.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be with you when I don’t even know who I am.”

Your chest tightens at the vulnerability in his words. Slowly, you reach out, your hand hovering over his shoulder before finally resting there. He flinches at the contact but doesn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” you say softly. “I’m here, Rensuke. I’ve always been here.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, he turns to look at you. His eyes are still filled with conflict, but there’s something else there now too—something softer, more familiar.

He doesn’t say anything, but the way he leans into your touch speaks volumes. It’s not a resolution, not yet. But it’s a start.

And for now, that’s enough.

wildcard kunigami i hate and love you all the same

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[ckret2]

Basically a scene where Ford's emotional atrophy is shown by not recognizing that Bill is showing his vulnerable side or dismissing it as Bill manipulating him, but also a scene where he realizes how broken Bill is regarding the massacre, his self-deception saying that his dimension is fine as himself, but more so Bill's self-perception as a monster for having destroyed Euclydia

I got nine asks one after another just a few minutes apart, so I'm assuming they're from the same person and answering them accordingly.

I don't think Ford has "emotional atrophy."

And I already have significant plans in place for exploring Ford & Bill's trust/trustworthiness issues, and Ford finding out about Bill's emotional relationship to his dimension.

Ford will tell Mabel at some point, when Bill showed him the last particle of Euclydia (I know that's not the case in this masterpiece), and it ends with Mabel going to hug Bill and telling him why.

This is a canon-compatible fic, including TBOB. Anything that doesn't currently appear to be canon-compatible was written & posted before TBOB came out and is still in the process of being updated.

But even at that, I think the only thing that implies Bill might not have shown Ford the particle is simply that it hasn't been mentioned. That can be fixed with one sentence during revisions.

Yes, Bill did show Ford the last particle of Euclydia in this fic. That's still canon.

At any rate—Ford may not like Bill, but he's not the kind of person to be an asshole just to be an asshole, and telling someone else about the particle would be an asshole move. That moment was deeply private.

Ford says in J3 he spent part of his portal era trying to find out where Bill is from; this means he must have decided "a monster ate it" is either a lie or an incomplete story. Whether or not he saw Euclydia's particle, he believes he doesn't really know what happened to Bill's dimension—which is what he's currently told Mabel—and which is all he's going to tell Mabel.

Bill's perfectly capable of telling Mabel about his home dimension of his own volition, just like he did in ch 52-56.

And that's as it should be. Bill telling Mabel about his secret particle is an act of trust. Ford telling Mabel about Bill's secret particle is a violation of trust.

This is a redemption fic, after all, and forcing Bill to be vulnerable by ripping his secrets out of him and smearing them around town against his will won't help him.

You know what will help him? Getting him to a point where he feels safe sharing his secrets.

In the case of Euclid's design, you have not considered that it is a triangle with a hexagon inside its body, as if the tips of its body were in sections with smaller equilateral triangles, and that the bases that give to the rest of the body adding to the sides form a hexagon.

You say that like it's a fact? It's not a fact.

His design doesn't involve hexagons and I'm not going to incorporate hexagons.

I gave him bricks because his son has bricks and I want them to look like they're related. The bricks are at an angle because I headcanon he has a twin brother and the pattern continues across both their bodies if their sides are pressed together.

Now, I don't particularly like how it looks, which is why I might change it, but "looks like he's related to Bill" and "looks like he's 1/2 of a pair with his brother" remain my objectives in figuring out his design. I'm not just gonna make something up that doesn't line up with those goals.

I will admit that I miss the axolotl since his arc ended, so you can have something about him in the future, like him visiting Mabel through the dream plane just to give her pictures of baby Bill, and tell her that Bill didn't know how to tie his shoes until his teenage years or other embarrassing details that Bill wouldn't want anyone to know.

I have plans for the Axolotl.

Unless plans significantly change, I don't intend for him to swing by Earth again just to hang out and gossip. It robs him of his mystique. Whenever he shows up, it's because he has a purpose.

He's still Bill's lawyer. Bill broke out of Theraprism. That's the sort of thing Bill's lawyer might need to deal with. That's the focus of the Axolotl's engagement in the plot: representing/protecting Bill on a cosmic level, and delving into related themes of justice & punishment & second chances.

The Axolotl barely knew Bill until after the Euclidean massacre; he doesn't have Bill's baby pictures or know when he learned to tie his shoelaces.

Since Dipper's the one who met the Axolotl earlier in the fic and Dipper's the one who's become preoccupied with the Axolotl's poem, Dipper's the one the Ax will speak with again. It's one of his character arcs.

One way to excuse the USB, would be that they have had many incidents of not only losing the USB, but the animals always end up eating it, enough so that making USBs resistant to stomach acid especially for goats is actually a route to the destination of taxpayers' money.

As I've said, I'm deliberately not seeking an explanation for the flash drive because there's no explanation that would be as true to the show's spirit as simply not explaining it would be.

I think I'm stupid, exactly what information did Bill not want to tell Ford about the portal, was it that Bill was the same, was it the nightmare realm or something else?

Bill didn't tell Ford the thing he didn't want to tell him about the portal, and Bill hasn't thought about it while we've been in his POV since then. This is what we in the writing biz call "a mystery."

Now that the Axolotl arc is over, it's possible some people might be able to figure out what Bill didn't want to tell Ford, although I don't expect it from more than one or two readers. But if you haven't figured it out based on the Ax arc? Then the reason you don't know the info is because you haven't been told the info. You'll find out when the story tells you.

If you could have decided what Bill's phobias would be, what would they be? Of the canonical ones, only TV static is good because that's how his blood looks, and that this fear comes from the massacre or naturally from Bill's discomfort at always seeing the inside of everyone in Euclidean (possibly including himself).

tbh I wouldn't have given him phobias? Not everyone reacts to trauma by specifically developing phobias.

Bill's psychological self-care might be shit, but if he got messed up by something during the massacre so badly that it turned into a phobia, then a trillion years later he either would've encountered the trigger so many times he's become numb to it, or else the trigger would be something so obscure that there's no way he'd just randomly stumble on it where we the audience can see.

Like, in fic I give him an extreme revulsion to having hair; but within a few weeks he's made major progress in training himself out of it.

I don't think the sight of something he's seen on every single person around him everywhere he goes ever since he was born would make him feel disgust. He probably struggles to picture his people without seeing their insides. He may well have a reaction to the sight of gored Euclidean bodies—but from his POV, normal healthy bodies with every organ where it should be are simply what normal Euclideans look like to him.

In the B&N deluxe version of TBOB, he says he hears voices in TV static and a hidden code on the page says "he never sleeps he never dreams but somehow still he hears their screams." I assume that's the reason he has a phobia of TV static.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Things escalate to the point of complete and utter disaster.

Word Count: 5,593

Warnings: MAJOR angst, a suicide attempt, insecurity, depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm, and blood.

Notes: Please prepare yourselves before reading this one, guys. I'm not joking around with the warnings here (not that I ever am, but you know what I mean). Also I apologize profusely in advance for what's about to happen.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 16: Battered & Mangled

Lucy twisted her hands together, feeling vaguely sick with nerves. Silence stretched on between her and Tommy, each of them waiting for the other to speak first.

“I called you,” he said, finally. “Earlier.”

“You did?” Fingers ran through her red hair, tugging on the locks anxiously. “Sorry. I was out with Asher. Did something happen?”

He stood from the chair he was collapsed in, grabbing more kindling to feed into the fire. “Polly resigned.”

That startled her a bit. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” He looked so…lost. Blue eyes staring pointedly out into the dark of the night.

“Was it because of Michael?” she pressed.

“I’m not here to talk about Polly,” Tommy said, voice suddenly stern. She looked down at her feet.

“Right.”

No more avoiding things. They both needed to have their heads clear for the events that were about to unfold. And it had become clear that just attempting to ignore their current situation to deal with later wasn’t going to achieve that.

And…she had promised him that they would talk about things. 

She’d have suggested they go inside, into the living quarters that Charlie had been letting her stay in. But she didn’t really want anyone eavesdropping in on their conversation. 

More silence stretched out between them, long and dark and endless. She jumped when Tommy’s hand touched her cheek, tilting her head up to look at him where he was now standing in front of her. She hadn’t even heard him move. 

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she said softly, eyes staring up into his. 

“So come home.”

Her face crumpled. “I can’t.” It was barely more than a whisper.

“Why?”

“You know why, Tom.”

“No; no I don’t think that I do.” His voice was low and soft like honey. Tempting. “So tell me. Please. Help me understand. We can figure something out. If we just sit down and talk about it–”

“Talk about what, Tommy? About what days you and I are allowed to spend the night together? I don’t want to live like that. To be…the dirty little secret that you keep around to fuck you when your wife isn’t available.”

His brow furrowed, almost in confusion. Like the thought had never even occurred to him. “You would never be that. You’re not some whore I keep around for when I get bored, Lucy. And besides, I told you, I fixed that. She’s fine with us being together whenever–”

“You expect me to believe that’ll last? With her pattern of behavior? This is how it’s always worked with her, Tommy. She’s all nice and smiles and sweetness until something sets her off, and then I’m suddenly the big bad monster who’s stealing her husband. What happens the next time she has one of her fits? Hm? When she comes back asking for even more? Now that you’ve given her this, what’s going to stop her from asking for even more restrictions on what you can and can’t do with me? How long before you can’t even touch me at all without it breaking some rule that she’s come up with?”

“I won’t let that happen–”

“Yeah, well you already let this fucking happen,” she snapped back. Tommy’s eyes widened. She drew in a trembling breath, turning away, fighting back every urge to just shout at him. A lump formed in her throat. She forced herself to swallow it down.

“You chose to leave,” Tommy said sternly. “That wasn’t part of Lizzie’s rules. That wasn’t something that I wanted. You decided to do that, Lucy.”

“And I’ve told you over and over again why I had to do that. Lizzie and I can’t live in such close quarters with each other all the time. She can barely even stand to see you touch me, Tommy.”

“That’s her fucking problem.”

“No, it’s not! Not when her reaction to it affects all of us! This,” she gestured widely, “was the only solution.”

“A solution where everyone ends up miserable?”

“Oh, please,” she snapped, voice beginning to rise. “Don’t act like Lizzie isn’t fucking thrilled now that I’m gone and she gets to finally play out the happy fucking family fantasy that she’s always wanted. I’m not blind, I’ve seen how much happier you’ve been lately. Don’t act like it isn’t better now that I’m gone.”

“It’s not. It’s fucking awful there, Lucy. I’m not happier. I don’t know what I did to make you think that I am, but I’m not. I’m so…I’m so fucking lonely without you.” His voice started to rise as well, but he drew in a deep breath when she looked away, eyes focusing on the dark waters of the cut. When he spoke again his voice was softer. “And what about you, eh? Are you happier, now that you’ve moved out?” He took a cautious step towards her. “Michael said that you’re miserable.”

“You shouldn’t listen to anything that Michael says.”

“He’s right, though. Isn’t he?” 

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. I don’t want you to be unhappy, love.” Another step, so that he was close enough for her to smell the scent of cigarette smoke and his cologne. Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, looking at her with scrutinizing eyes. “Why did you really leave, Lucy? Because I don’t believe it was just about Lizzie’s rules. There’s something else going on. I can see it in your eyes.” There was a desperation in his gaze that she wasn’t used to seeing. “Just tell me.” She looked away again, hands wringing together frantically. Tommy’s face twitched with frustration. “If I have to live the rest of my life without you then I think that I at least deserve to know why.” She pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut tight. It was unclear whether she wanted to cry or shout at him. Tommy seemed to soften a little, reigning in his frustration to gently touch her hand, stilling her relentless fidgeting.

“Please. I know I fucked up. Just…help me understand. If I understand why you left, then I can find some way to fix this…”

“Maybe there is no fixing this,” she said defeatedly with a shrug. The frustration in Tommy’s face returned, face twisting as he struggled to reign in his temper.  

“So…what? You’re just going to give up, is that what’s happening here? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’m the only one who’s actually still fighting for us.”

“What?” Her anger was cold in her veins, rushing and bubbling just beneath her skin. Huh. It seemed that Polly had been right. She was angry at him.

“I’m the one who’s been renegotiating with Lizzie. I’m the one trying to find an actual fucking solution to this mess. You keep saying that everything is fine, promising that we will work things out. And yet I’ve been practically begging you to talk to me about this since it happened, and all you’ve done is avoid and ignore me. I’ve been trying, Lucy. Trying to talk to you, to still be with you, and you’ve done nothing but push me away.”

“Don’t you talk about fighting for us when you all but rolled over for Lizzie when she asked you to throw a grenade in the middle of our relationship to make her happy. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Tommy, but we are in the middle of a dangerous conspiracy to assassinate an MP, not to mention plugging up leaks, and dodging all of our other enemies that have been coming at us from every possible angle. So excuse me for trying to put the good of the company and the family over our personal issues.”

“No, don’t you fucking do that! Don’t act like you couldn’t have spared one lunch, one goddamn hour, to talk about this with me!”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Why? So I get to hear again about how you chose her over me?”

Never before had she really considered herself to be a jealous person. But perhaps it was because she hadn’t ever felt like her place in Tommy’s heart was being threatened. He had shared all of his other lovers with her. And she had always known, without a single bit of doubt in her mind, that she was and always would be Tommy’s favorite. That he loved her. Because she was the only one that he let into his head. That he told his darkest, most closely kept secrets to. The only one allowed to actually touch his heart.  

Grace had been different. Because the three of them had all loved each other. Grace had simply become an addition to their pairing. And she had always ensured that Lucy had felt included. Not once did she try to usurp Lucy or steal Tommy away from her. Like Lizzie had. 

Difficult as things had been with Lizzie, Lucy had managed to make peace with the arrangement. At least outside of the relentless guilt she felt every time she so much as looked into Lizzie’s heartbroken eyes. And maybe there was a particularly awful part of her that almost enjoyed the knowledge that while Tommy may spend his nights with Lizzie out of duty, he spent the ones he did with her out of love.

But now that she knew Tommy did not love her anymore, everything had been thrown into disarray. She had begun to wonder if perhaps that was why, despite his previous words about fighting for them, he had not really fought for her at all when he’d struck that new deal with Lizzie. Even if he didn’t love Lizzie, did it really matter? He had still chosen her. To throw Lucy and their relationship into uncertainty all in the name of making Lizzie happy.

She didn’t want to be angry with him, but now that she had cracked open that little box she had stuffed all of her fury towards him in, it seemed incapable of anything other than spilling out. 

“What? No, no, no, that’s not what happened. You know I don’t love her. You know that.” Tommy’s voice was shocked, near panicked in response to her words.

“Then why did you do this to us, Tommy!?”

“I was drunk! Alright!? I was drunk off my ass. I wasn’t thinking. I was trying to get the information out of her of where Linda was for Arthur. And…Lizzie’s useful. I saw an opportunity to keep her around and I took it.” 

She shook her head, pulling away from him, still too angry and hurt. “Oh, yes. That makes me feel so much better! Good to know that my place in your life is worth trading for a morsel of information.”

He flinched. “That’s not what I meant.” He reached out to touch her face, but she pulled away.

“Isn’t it?” she spat out bitterly.

He reached out, grasping her cheeks in his hands. “Love, no. I made a mistake. I fucked up, but I was not choosing her over you.”  

“Stop it.” She pulled her face back, leaving his hands grasping at air.

“Stop what?” The genuine confusion in his voice just made her angrier. 

“Stop acting like you care so damn much! You want so badly to know why I left? I left because I couldn’t stand to live in a house where I was clearly so unwanted!” 

Tommy reared back like she had slapped him. “Unwan–Lucy, what are you talking about?”  

“God, Tommy!” she pushed away from him, pacing back and forth across the small space protected from the rain. “You made that deal with Lizzie. Either you knew what it would mean for you and me, or you didn’t even think of me at all.” She wasn’t sure which was worse. “Neither of you even thought to talk to me about it. Do you realize how…how…that feels!? To have your lover strike an arrangement that directly affects you without even including you in the discussion about it at all!? And–on top of all that–with someone who has done nothing but bully you and do everything in her power to make you miserable for years!?” 

“That’s-that’s not fair–” Tommy protested.

“Not fair? Not fair!? I’ll tell you what isn’t fucking fair, Thomas. What’s not fair is that I’m the one person who’s always been there for you and yet I’m the one that gets thrown out like garbage while she gets you for the rest of your lives!” She had to ball her hands up into fists to keep them from shaking. “I am so…fucking angry with you! You make this deal with Lizzie without even thinking of me, then you blindside me about it when we’re about to go into a fucking work meeting. You try to make it better by treating me more like your mistress or your personal whore than your lover–” 

“Now, hang on just a fucking minute–”

“Shut up!” she practically screamed at him. Tommy gaped at her. In all their years together, she had never spoken to him like that.

“You leave me to greet guests at your own fucking dinner party and to deal with Mosley alone while you’re too busy off fucking your wife, and then to top it all off, you replace me at my job with a man who hasn’t even held a rifle in years!” 

“We talked about that! I told you, it’s just for this one job, and that’s it!” Now Tommy was shouting too.

“That isn’t the point, Tommy! I’m replaceable! You’ve proven that with Lizzie, and again with Barney!” Her voice cracked a bit, the tears beginning to well in her eyes faster than she could force them down. The feelings of worthlessness and rejection nearly choked her. Tommy stared at her for a moment, mouth open slightly, brow furrowed, eyes blazing with a combination of hurt and fury.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he said finally. His voice was level, no longer shouting, but she knew him well enough to recognize the wrath and frustration beneath his tone. “Love, I don’t know how else to tell you this, you are not being replaced.” Head shaking, he stalked back and forth before turning to her, finger raised. “You keep talking like you think that this is what I wanted. You think I ever wanted to hurt you? Do you really think that I wanted,” he gestured vaguely, “any of this!?” He must have seen something in her face, because he took a step forward, face twisting with conviction. “You think that I wanted Lizzie to get pregnant!? You think that I wanted to have to marry her? You think that I would have done any of it, if I had known that it would cost me you!?” His voice was loud enough to echo a little in the space around them. Lucy forced herself to not break eye contact with him, even as her body trembled with the sobs she was fighting hard to stifle. “You said…you said that you were okay with it,” he added weakly. “I asked you, before I proposed to Lizzie.”

“I know. I know, I did, Tom. And I was. But that was before…” she trailed off, tears running down her face. Tommy reached out a hand to try to touch her cheek, to wipe them away, but she pulled back, away from him.

“Before what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She looked away, still unable to bring herself to actually say it.  

“Yes, it does.” He waited for her to say more, sighing defeatedly when she didn’t. He was searching her eyes for something. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it, sighing and dropping to sit down in the chair by the fire, head in his hands.

“You promised,” he croaked, after finally raising his face, “when you left that we would still be together. That we weren’t splitting up. But that hasn’t seemed to be true at all, Lucy.”

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, tears still leaking from her eyes. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking. Please. Did you mean it, when you said that? Or were you just telling me what you thought I wanted to hear?” Something frighteningly resigned filtered into those ice blue eyes. He sighed very deeply, gazing out into the rain. “If you really want to leave, I won’t stop you. You know that.”

“You think that I really wanted to leave? I love you, Tommy.” He looked up at her words, eyes suddenly full of hope. “I meant it. When I said that we could still be together. But…”

“But what?” He stood. “But what, Lucy?”

She shook her head, unable to get the words out, her chest spasming with hiccups. Those sobs that she had been keeping at bay finally making themselves known, taking such violent hold over her body that she almost feared that she would collapse with them. Tommy stood, going to her and laying a hand on her arm that she weakly pushed away. 

“Love…love, please. Please,” he tried to reason. “Come home. Don’t worry about anything else. I want you back. I want you with me. Lucy,” he was trying to get in closer to her, to force her to meet his eyes. “Lucy, I love you–”     

“I don’t believe you!” It came out as an agonizing wail, shrill and with enough conviction to shake the entire earth. The words seemed to rip apart her vocal cords on their way out. Her heart shredded in her chest like paper. What little will for life she had remaining blew out like a candle. 

There it was. Bared and out for all to see. The truth. What she had known deep down for a while. Longer than she probably even realized. Because she’d been in denial about all of it. Because she wanted to hold onto him. Because she was a selfish, disgusting, horrid monster who hadn’t wanted to let him go even though she had to. Their relationship was dead. Had started to die slowly and painfully the second Lizzie got pregnant. Whatever love he’d ever had for her was long gone. Buried deep under the ground, never to be felt again. All that was left was residual guilt and a sense of duty towards her. That was all this was. 

And he still knew her well enough to know that the admittance of the death of his love for her would destroy her, so he would not say it. He’d carry on pretending, or at least trying to, for her sake. But she needed to stop being so selfish with him; stop trying to hold onto him for a little longer. She had to set him free.    

Tommy’s entire face changed. All anger and earnestness fell right off of it, eyes widening, jerking back as if she’d slapped him. The color drained out of his face, freckles standing out starkly against his paper-white skin, a look of horror quickly overtaking the frustration that had been there but a moment prior. 

Unable to face the mounting pain in his eyes, she buried her face in her hands. Great, she’d gone and hurt his feelings. But why? Because she’d called him on his bluff? Because he didn’t want to hurt her? At this point, she wished that he would just stop pretending and be honest. He didn’t love her anymore. They couldn’t keep dancing around it forever. 

“Lucy…” he made a sound of physical pain and rushed towards her, saying her name in agony, reaching out to her, trying to hold her. 

“Get away from me!” She braced both hands on his chest and shoved, hard enough to send him staggering back a few steps, eyes wide.

“Love…”

She shook her head furiously, still sobbing, taking a step away from him. “We’re done here.” There was more that they needed to discuss. What was going to happen to her position as his assistant, for one, but she couldn’t. Not now. “We’re done for tonight.” Another step back. “I’m sorry. We can talk more later…”

“No, Lucy, wait–!”

But she stepped back into the downpour surrounding them, and the rush of the rain pelting upon her drowned out his voice. With one final hitching sob, she rounded on her heel and ran, nearly slipping and tripping in the mud, to the door of the living quarters. She burst through it into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her. A hand clapped over her mouth to try to contain her heartbroken cries. 

Tommy did not follow her. That only made her sob more. 

Asher, laying by the door, raised his head, whining and going to nudge at her legs with his nose. 

Absentmindedly, she stroked his nose before staggering to the stairs, trembling fingers closing around the rail to balance herself. She was shivering, both from the chill that the rain had left her with, and the emotions still pumping through her veins. Asher’s nails clicked against the floorboards as he followed behind her. 

Her room was the furthest door down on the left, but that was not where she went. Instead, she made a beeline for the red door at the end of the hall. The one that led into the washroom. 

“No, Ash. Stay out here,” she commanded gently to the dog when he tried to squeeze past her legs to follow her inside. He whined again, watching her with concerned brown eyes, his head tilting to try to keep her in his line of sight as she closed the door. 

Peeling off her drenched coat, she let it fall into a heap of soggy material on the tiled floor. Her skin had erupted into gooseflesh, shaking so badly her teeth rattled in her skull. 

It’s over. It’s done.

I’m all alone again.

Both hands landed on the rim of the sink, barely managing to catch herself as she fell forward with an agonized sob. Her lungs and throat ached from crying, her eyes burning from shedding so many tears.  

There was so much pain inside her, it felt like she was about to burst unless she found some way to release it. 

She needed to get cleaned up. Yes; that’s what she needed to do. Maybe she would feel better after…

Oh, who was she kidding? She would never feel better again. Not after this. 

But she went to the tub on the far end of the washroom anyway, turning the faucet on it and fitting the plug in place.

As the tub filled, she ridded herself of her upper layers until she was only in her undershirt and trousers. Opening up the cabinet, she riffled through it in search of the soap she’d stored there earlier, fingers freezing when they passed over not the soap, but something silver and gleaming. 

“Pick it up,” a low, Irish accented voice said, arms suddenly wrapping around Lucy’s waist, chin resting on her shoulder. “Pick it up, get in the tub, and come away with me.”

Lucy remained frozen, trembling fingers hovering in place. 

No one wants me here anyway. 

It would be what’s best for everyone. 

I won’t be a burden anymore.

They’ll be free of me. 

Each thought came one right after the other rapidly, knocking her down and then striking her with the next before she had a chance to recover. Grace’s eyes gleamed at her from over her shoulder in the mirror. 

No one loves me.

Her fingers closed around the razor. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

I don’t believe you.

He stared at the place where Lucy had been standing just seconds prior, mouth half open, his cries of her name lost in the roar of the wind and the splattering of rain. 

I don’t believe you.

He moved to race after her, to grab her tight in his arms and never, ever let her go again. To tell her over and over that he loved her, until she finally believed him again. 

I don’t believe you.

“Is everything alright, Tommy?” Curly asked, and Tommy paused, head snapping around to find the man standing just at the edge of the covering, barely out of the rain, his hands wringing together. “I heard shouting…”

No. Nothing is alright at all.

“Everything is fine, Curly,” he lied, managing a weak smile. “Everything is fine. Go on back to bed, eh? I’m sorry if we woke you up.”

“I was in the stables.”

Tommy nodded. As was often the case. Curly preferred to sleep with the horses than in a bed. “Well, best get back before they miss you in there, then, eh?”

Curly brightened, smiling and nodding. “Good night, then, Tom.”

“Good night, Curly.” He waited until he’d hurried back to the stables before he doused the fire, making sure there weren’t any lingering sparks or flames, then stepped away, picking his way carefully through the slippery mud towards the building Lucy had disappeared into. 

Swiping off his cap, he shook it out a few times to try to dispel some of the water that had soaked into it. The door into the living quarters opened up into a kitchen, a small sitting room just off to the right, and the stairs that led to the bedrooms in the back. The kitchen was vacant, but there were muddy footprints leading from the door to the stairs.

Tommy glanced around the kitchen, taking a second to gather himself. He would need to be the calm one. The rational one. Lucy was clearly even more upset than he had originally thought. If he wanted to help pull her out of the dark pit of despair she’d fallen into, he would have to keep his head about him. Not let himself get frustrated. 

After all, it wasn’t her fault. He was the jackass who had so thoroughly fucked up that the love of his life didn’t even believe he loved her anymore. 

It had been a while since he’d been in there. The kitchen was minimalistic and tidy as ever, but he noticed little symptoms of Lucy’s presence scattered throughout: the angle at which the kettle was settled on the stove, the tin of cinnamon vanilla tea on the counter, the way that the towels were folded. He smiled a little to himself fondly at the reminders of her presence. 

How could she ever think that he didn’t love her? The very idea of it was absolutely absurd to him.  

He hadn’t much of an actual plan for what he was going to do or say outside of going upstairs. Finding Lucy in her room. Taking her into his arms. Telling her over and over that he loved her. That he was so sorry. That he’d do anything, anything to fix what he had done. 

And then he’d take her to bed, and make love to her until the sun came up, and any doubts that he loved her with every ounce of his being were banished from her mind.

A bark shattered through the air and Tommy jumped, head turning to find Asher standing at the top of the stairs, practically bouncing from foot to foot anxiously.  

“Asher, no,” he frowned. Usually Asher was very good about not barking. Not unless he was alerting them to approaching dangers. Asher barked again, darting away from the stairs to further down the hallway that they led up to, then back to the top of the stairs, staring down at him imploringly. “Asher–oi!” Tommy jumped back in surprise when Asher suddenly darted down the stairs, took a mouthful of his trouser leg in his jaws, and tried to tug him up the stairs with him. “What the hell?” 

Asher yanked, and it was either he took a step forward or let the dog rip his trousers. 

“Asher, mate, I can’t play with you right now…”

Dropping the mouthful of fabric, Asher barked, then whined, darting up the stairs. 

“For fuck’s sake…” Tommy muttered. Now was not the time. Still, he huffed, following the dog up the stairs and down the hall. “What? What is so important?”

Asher came to a stop at the red door at the very far end of the hallway, whining and lifting a paw to scratch at the door. He was panting, tail dropped low. His ears kept twitching, as if trying to listen for something. Tommy’s blood chilled. 

“Asher?” he asked, making his way down the hallway. The dog whined loudly, scratching more insistently at the door. When Tommy got closer, he could see marks already left on the base of the wall and door frame where the dog had been pawing at it. “Move, boy,” he gently nudged the dog out of the way, leaning his head against the door, trying to hear what was on the other side of it as he raised his fist to knock. 

“Lucy?” he called softly. “Love, are you in there?”

No answer. He tried again.

“Lucy? Are you okay?”

Still nothing. Asher whined again, distraught. Tommy swallowed hard, his heart rate spiking in his ears. Fear locked pale hands around his throat. 

“Sweetheart? I’m coming in.” 

When he tried the knob it was to find the door surprisingly unlocked, but that was where his relief ended. 

Later, they would tell him that he screamed. And he supposed that he must have, though he had no recollection of it. 

The pieces of the scene before him were processed only in fragments. As if his mind knew that anything more would cause him to become incapacitated by hysterics. 

The bloody bathwater. The body with her head lolled back against the rim. The soaked clothes sticking to her like a second skin. The hand draped over the edge of the tub, blood dripping from it onto the white tiles. The bloody razor on the floor. The deep cuts slashed into her wrists. 

He was hurling himself towards the bathtub before his mind had fully finished processing what he was seeing, plunging his hands into the lukewarm water. Not caring that it was stained red–red, with her blood–as he scooped her up out of the tub. And she was a dead weight in his arms, and the thought of that word in association with Lucy had his knees buckling, sinking to the floor with her cradled to his chest. 

She was still dressed in her white undershirt and dark trousers. Her head fell back limply against his shoulder, those big brown eyes he’d fallen so deeply in love with closed. Damp hair clung to her forehead, a shade darker red than usual from the moisture. 

“No,” he choked out, hands hovering over her, frantic. “No, no, no, no, no, no…” he found her arms, gripping them tight, examining the blood flowing heavily from her wrists to pool around them. 

Have to stop the bleeding.

Shifting Lucy to lay across his lap, he yanked his tie free from around his neck with shaking hands, wrapping it around one of her arms and pulling it taunt in an improvised tourniquet. 

“Please, please,” he begged. He needed something else for the other arm…

“Tommy, what’s–oh my God,” Charlie gasped, coming to a stop in the doorway. 

Tommy looked up at him, and when he spoke, his voice was shockingly childlike. 

“Help me.”

“I’ll call an ambulance!” Charlie shouted, already racing down the hall. Tommy turned his attention back to Lucy, grabbing onto her shirt sleeves and ripping them apart to set to work fashioning a second tourniquet around the other arm. 

Right. What next? What more could he do to help her? It was taking everything he had to fight back the cycle of memories his brain was attempting to bombard him with: Greta’s hand in his, her final breaths rattling in her lungs while he lingered at her side, unable to do anything. Grace, in his arms, bleeding out while he was helpless to save her.. 

Here’s another one, Tommy. Another woman you loved, dead in your arms. Another one that’s all your fault. 

He shook his head. He needed to find something to make bandages out of for her wrists. Reaching into his pocket, he yanked out his handkerchief, ripping it in two and folding it, using one hand each to press the two pieces of fabric to the deep wounds on her wrists. The fabric was soaked crimson within seconds, and he was suddenly massively aware of the size of the scarlet puddle growing around him. 

He did not really even know if she was still alive. There was no time to check. He was pretty sure he saw her chest rising and falling shallowly, but that could always have been his mind seeing what it wanted to see. 

Despite the makeshift bandages steadily soaking through, he continued to maintain pressure, even as hope slipped away with every passing second. He could taste salt from his tears against his lips, aware that he was sobbing distraughtly, but not caring to do anything about it. 

“Please,” he curled around her, face bent in close to hers. “Please, Lucy, don’t leave me alone. Hang on. Just hang on. I’m sorry.” He started crying even harder. “I’m so, so sorry. I love you. I love you more than anything. Just please, please hang on. Stay with me. Please, please, please, please…”

He was still there, holding her on the floor of the washroom in a pool of her blood, crying and speaking to her softly, when the paramedics came charging through the door.

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[isephierreo]

Sothis' design symbols and colors are frequently represented in nabataeans design, game's UI and many more. In this post, we will address all of this.

Stars

These magical points of light would have always reminded people of other worlds and heavenly powers. According to spiritualists and astrologers, the stars transmit certain messages and energies that affect our own world. Stars are often seen as magical and mysterious, reflecting the mysteries of the universe. Also, the star would hold the meaning to something higher, beautiful, enlightening, mighty, and divine. All of these things unmistakably represent everything Sothis is in a game. The stars also symbolize guidance on the right path (either literally or figuratively), a role played by Sothis, Byleth, and Rhea in game.

Heart

The heart often symbolizes love and passion, but it also symbolizes spirit, the essence of life and strength, and this is in line with the concept of the crest of flames as the source of Sothis' power. Furthermore, the crest of flames is in the stylized shape of a heart, and in the Sothis' design it appears literally inside a heart in her necklace.

The similarity of the design of Sothis to the Nabataeans

In order to understand the method of my explanation of the similarity of the nabateans design with Sothis' tiara, I divided the crown parts and named each part as follows: P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7, P8, and P9.

Surely many have noticed that Rhea's adornment is very similar to that of Sothis, while the patterns on her cape are similar to those of Sothis' dress and the crest of flames. 

She has P1 and P2 in her outfit as Seiros.

Like Rhea, Seteth has in both his diadem and belt frame and tassels similar parts to that of Sothis’ tiara, but in a more stylized form as pictured below.

While Flayn's barrette may not look like the parts of Sothis' tiara at first glance, they are in fact stylized P1, P2/P3, and P5.

The distinctive pattern that Seteth and Flayn share looks like a stylized of Sothis' knot, and even the pattern on Seteth's back is similar to a P3.

Even the pendant owned by Sitri is the same as the P8.

Colors

Sothis generally wears blue (specifically dark blue), which is the color of the star Sirius. However, it is very important to note that the Sothis' ribbons are distinguished by the color white, which in Buddhist culture and most world cultures symbolizes learning, purity, longevity and knowledge, and pink symbolizes the traditional Buddha. So we see Sothis in crests mural wearing only white and pink. (I avoided golden and black because I felt that they are just colors used in general in design)

Besides, all the Nabateans wear the same Sothis’ color scheme, white, blue, golden and black.

The only color they lack is pink, which only Byleth and Seiros wear in her hair band.

The Byleth's dagger also has the same Sothis' color scheme, representing the relationship they have. But I guess I'll talk more about Byleth's design in another post.

The rainbow fish bestowing the Goddess Messenger has the same Sothis' color scheme.

I know that I ignored black and golden, and I know that some may think that the uniform colors of the Officers Academy represent the names of the three houses, but it also specifically represents the Sothis' color scheme, and evidence of this is the white shirts, and the dark blue which is the same color as Sothis' dress.

Its house leader insignia is similar to P1 and P4.

The pattern in uniform has P1 motifs, as does the infinity motif in Sothis' necklace.

The uniform brooch is stylized for P1, P3 and P4, but in rhombus pattern style.

Speaking of the rhombus pattern, some must have noticed it given its presence a lot in the game, and in any product for it. Sometimes 4 rhombuses major are combined to form a four-pointed star, and sometimes 4 rhombus minors are also combined with the major ones to form an eight-pointed star. The eight-pointed star is the one that represents Sothis and the Nabateans in general, which symbolizes god, protection, and victory. Over the years, it has also taken on different meanings due to a variety of cultures and customs adopting it. In many cultures the eight-pointed star is also a symbol of harmony, spirit, and matter. You could even think of this star shape as two superimposed squares that form the basis for the universe. Sometimes a square is confused with a rhombus, especially since a rhombus can also form an eight-pointed star with a square. 

This pattern is present in many parts of the game, including white magic units, church npc, and the pattern found in Rhea and Gilbert outfits.

The pattern found in Cathedral.

And in many UI game.

There are also many UI that contain a Sothis' design, as shown in the image below.

[cholondry]

What if Kaito was a girl?

I really love thinking about this question, because it's fun and: What if the new Kaito Kid was even more different than his predecessor? How would that change the characters dynamics and relationships? How much could one change impact everything?

This is just rambling and headcanons, nothing more.

If we assume that nothing else but Kaito's gender changed, her journey to become the next Kaito Kid would be very interesting. At first, she didn't intend to actually become the thief, she just wanted to see why there was Kid's stuff behind her father's portrait and who the returned Kid was. The moment she chose to take on the mantle, she would have to decide: Would she be an obviously completely new Kid or would she pretend to be her returned father? I think she would go with the second option, as it helps further covering up her identity and keeping the illusion that Kid never truly went away, just on a hiatus. The fact that her dads larger clothes would obscure her form and how she can change her voice would benefit her greatly. I wonder if she'd imitate his voice or just change to a more masculine pitch of her own voice, as copying your dead father's voice every heist would really hurt Kaito emotionally.

The way she acts as Kid would probably follow the pattern of how her dad behaved. Meaning that she'd act like a gentleman and a ladykiller. Which would probably make her realise something about her sexuality if she hadn't figured it out before. (Kaito is very Bi in my opinion, and I think that applies to both versions). I'd like to think that she'd flirt just as much as the canonical Kaito, just more directly with guys because seeing them react to a "man" aggressively flirting with them is something she thinks is hilarious.

The relationships between everyone would change more than one thinks at first. I think Kaito and Aoko would be more platonic, as they grew up more like sisters and Kaito would be less inappropriate towards her. Because let's face it: the way the canonical Kaito treats her and "pranks" her is really disgusting, especially with the skirt flipping. If Kaito was a girl, that behaviour would probably be non existent as she understands how deeply afraid most girls are of being treated in such a way, especially at that age. And she wouldn't want her friend to feel that kind of insecurity and fear around her. Thought i would still think that Kaito keeps the routine of pranking and doing her tricks, just in a different manner. I also think she would still be flirty with her friends, because that's just who Kaito is.

Her relationship with Akako would also be incredibly interesting. Akako's entire pursuit of Kaito stems from the fact that he's the only guy immune to her charms, according to her magic mirror. But the mirror would say that no guy would resist her if Kaito was a girl. It would be interesting if she would still end up more interested in Kid, maybe through classmates saying that nobody could ever date "him" and that "he's" untouchable. And Akako, wanting to show off as always or to show how weak magicians are against witches, could try to lure Kid in only to find out that all of her attempts fail tremendously. Which could lead her to discovering who Kid really is. And from then on there are multiple routes in which the relationship could go. She could loose or gain interest, depending on the interpretation. I personally think they would somehow end up as friends, because I just like that dynamic for them.

In contrast her relationship to Hakuba would basically not change at all, because Hakuba would somehow still sniff out that she's Kid, she just has the argument of "But I'm not a guy, Hakuba" for her defense. Also the clash between Hakubas wish to be a gentleman and the want to put an end to his classmates' after school activities and antics as efficiently as possible would be interesting to see. "I do not want to hit or fight a girl as it's against a gentleman's code, but whoever thought of that rule has never met Kuroba."

Now we come to the relationship between Kaito and Shinichi. Pure Kaishin rambling ahead, for anyone who doesn't like the ship.

To get it out of the way: Shinichi is also a girl. Because I'm gay.

Anyway, I think Shinichi would be one of the only ones (besides Hakuba) to figure out that Kaito is actually a girl. Thought no one seems to really believe her on thst point. But through all the times Shinichi was carried on Kaito's hang glider as Conan, the infamous button search from "Lost ship in the sky" and Singapore, there's no way she wouldn't have figured it out.

Additionally, Kid is much more open when the two are on their own, so she's probably letting her true voice bleed through. I think the first time she directly confronts Kid about "him" being a girl, Kaito would congratulate her on finding out with her actual voice. And Shinichi would have gay panic because she trusted her with her real voice and it's so beautiful and if she didn't know for sure she had a crush she sure has now. And after that, their meetings would become extra special because Kid may keep her Pokerface, but with her voice. And it's only for Shinichi to hear.

Them trusting each other with their secrets that they keep from everyone else is just, special.