#how does she serve so hard in every outfit she wears
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legendofrhythm · 1 year ago
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Oh my goodness Marina hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
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muzsmocsing · 25 days ago
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TGCF headcanons to free up storage space in my brain
Some of these might go against canon but so does every same sex ship that isn't hualian so. Bear with me.
♥️ Hua Cheng is significantly lighter than he looks. The man weighs like two and a half twigs + whatever mountain of jewelry he has on that day. The only person who knows this is Xie Lian because no one else has had the audacity to try lifting a calamity.
♥️ Hua Cheng worked on his glowup so hard he forgot how to do casual. He pulls up to 7AM breakfast in complete ghost king regalia and a full beat.
♥️ Yin Yu is actually pretty content working for Hua Cheng most of the time. Sure, he's melodramatic the way only romantic era poets could afford to be but the pay is good and the lack of coworkers is a plus.
♥️ He Xuan on the other hand HATES IT. Being a spy is interesting work but after the 16th time he's had him describe Xie Lian's exact same outfit + hair + pretty smile + voice + general mood + if he seems lonely + if he's been eating well in excruciating detail he started contemplating if it's possible for a water demon to drown himself.
♥️ Xie Lian's straw hat is a spiritual device. It's the same one a man gave him before his second ascension, and it was such an emotionally charged moment the hat accidentally took on power. It doesn't do much but it's indestructible and waterproof.
♥️ Feng Xin has dimples.
♥️ Despite not having talked much, Shi Qingxuan considers Hua Cheng a good friend. She saw his true form for the first time and was like "Thank goodness I'm not the only one serving cunt here 🙏" and has been harassing him for his tailor's address since.
♥️ Pei Ming has had one (1) stable relationship that's stood the test of time, and that is his on and off friends with benefits deal with Shi Wudu. The man is already married to That Grind🔥💯 so there is zero pressure for him to get hitched, therefore he doesn't feel the need to run.
♥️ Shi Wudu is lowkey transphobic to Qingxuan sometimes all while looking like the most androgynous diva to ever exist. He wears blue eyeliner and acrylics. No he does not see the irony.
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garlicbreadbatstarion · 3 months ago
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BG3 Companion Headcanons
🌈☔🌤️ Enjoying Their Favorite Weather 🌤️☔🌈
Lae'zel:
This gith loves a super windy day
It is invigorating and helps her feel physically present
Also she knows she looks deadlyyy with her hair blowing around her head, her eyes narrowed, and her head down as she walks against the wind
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Halsin:
I feel like Halsin loves a rainy evening+dewey morning combo in the spring
Like the soft sound the falling droplets make as they splatter against his tent help him drift off to sleep and dream of ducklings
And the next morning he loves to walk through the forest when the sun is coming up so he can watch the mist slowly rise as the light reflects off the wildflowers and the spiderwebs sparkle in the trees
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Karlach:
I'm convinced she's a tropical beach kinda gal so hot, sticky, and sunny all the way
Any other companion in my head is usually wearing their starting outfits when I think of them, but Karlach? Shutter shades and a pina colada served in a pineapple
She's also on fire all the time, so the heat doesn't bug her at all!
I feel like the beach was made for her; rainbow sunsets, the crashing waves, the vastness of the ocean, hot sand between your toes, sandcastles, bonfires...like she would love everythinggg about it
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Astarion:
Idk if it's bc there's so many cute fics with Star in snow, but ughhh it melts my cold, dead heart
Like the absolute stillness of flakey snow falling heavily in the night would make him feel at ease
And the way the snow sparkles in the moonlight inspires him to be creative (I am personally a big fan of thinking one of his hobbies post-epilogue is jewelry making. The little details keep his hands busy while his good taste and imagination help him design some of the coolest jewelry in all of Faerûn)
Also, like Karlach, the cold doesn't bother him nearly as much as it does most others
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Gale:
We love an unstable king which is why I think Gale loves big storms with lots of wind, thunder, and lightning
AU storm chaser Gale?? I think I'm onto something here truly
And also it gives him great opportunities to conduct experiments and run tests! It's aliveeee!!!
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Shadowheart:
Our broody queen loves mist and fog
It makes her want to snuggle up with a book and some tea by the window to just enjoy the peace and quiet
Also likes to be a mischievous, little gremlin and scare her partners/friends/roommates by waiting around the side of the house, knowing it's obscured, and then jumping out and grabbing them
And you want to be mad for how bad she scares you every time, but it's so hard bc she wrinkles her cute lil nose when she laughs and ughhh
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Wyll:
Wyll loves space change my mind
He adores a clear, warm night so he can be out all night stargazing
And ooooo a meteor shower? This man is giddily kicking his feet, he is so enraptured by the magic of the night sky
He also loves to point out the constellations, and he's so good, even Gale is astounded by how many astral entities he knows
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mynameisnotthepoint · 5 months ago
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Ossan no pantsu EP 6
Disclaimer: I had already watched this drama with subs that were mostly machine translated, so this is less of a first time reaction and more of an "i finally have the whole picture now". This will contain spoilers, so be warned!
As always: thank you to @isaksbestpillow for continuing to provide us with excellent subs to this drama!!
Quotes
"They tried to look like they were having a blast. But I don't think they did it for you. Daichi-san did it for Madoka-san, Madoka-san did it for Daichi-san." (Moe to Makoto, translation by isaksbestpillow)
"You finish university, desperately look for a job and when you finally achieve your dream[,] your parents get ill and you have to take over the shop. You say you want to take the job since you got hired, so your parents say: 'The company doesn't expect anything from a mere woman.' It was that kind of time. However, now you can do what you like, so you must not stop looking for what you want to do. I only know my parents' shop and my part-time job, but I do housework. I like cooking and I am good at it. I don't like cleaning. Maintaining relationships with the neighbors is hard. Sorting waste is such a bother. But when I think it's a job that only takes three minutes, I feel pathetic for not being able to do it. We're a family but everyone has their own schedule, so I'm not saying we should eat dinner together every day. But when you take it for granted that you can come to the table whenever you feel like it, I don't like it." (Mika to Moe and Makoto, translation by isaksbestpillow)
My long jumbled thoughts/recap
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Carlos is me after that first scene, which was basically a repetition of the last scene of episode 5.
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Mika and Makoto are basically wearing the same colors (blue and orange) but in reverse, with Mika having much more blue on her than Makoto orange. This really reflects how considerate they are of each other at this point: Mika apologizes to her friend on behalf of her husband, while he isn't even helping with cleaning up after the party that he derailed. (Makoto's shirt has a little dog on it tho!!)
"I'm not interested in real-life romance," Moe says (translation by isaksbestpillow). She will draw the wildest fanart and wants her ship to be together forever, but she doesn't want that for herself. And yet she isn't repulsed by people in real-life being (cute) together. I love her so so much, she deserves the world. Also, I agree with @bengiyo's interpretation that she had this conversation with her dad in the upstairs hallway so Kakeru could hear it too.
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I dislike this man with all my heart. He is despicable with how he treats his juniors, especially women. Also the way he talks about his wife *shudders*. He is the kind of person you want to write completely off, to ignore and yet you will always encounter them. And Shimura-san is so strong: she serves him, NOT because she is scared, but because she finds him so beneath her that he's not even worth arguing with. Makoto is more bumbling and likeable, but in the beginning he truly warranted the same treatment. I truly like how Furuike is used as a sort of mirror, or even a magnifying glass for Makoto: because of witnessing an even worse man in the same environment, does he realise truly how much he fucked up.
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I love Kakeru's outfits, and this is one of my favourites. I also love that he isn't the only male person there! In old fashion cupcake, there were always ONLY women in the spaces the two mains visited, which is a tad unrealistic.
I also noticed he does wear different shades of nailpolish and his make-up and hairstyles differ too, although he does seem to have his preferences. It doesn't look professional, which is normal, he is still learning!
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Mika is so proud of her lunchboxes. They look so so good. She is a part-timer and she takes pride in her work. This is contrasted immediately with Moe canceling her part-time job at the bookshop because of her period cramps (very valid!) but Moe frames it like it's OK because it's "just" a part-time job. She sees it as not as important/serious as a full-time job.
As an aside, it resonates so much with me, Moe thinking you have to endure the menstrual cramps once you start working full-time. It's what I thought too... and still I go to work, with the caveat that I also work part-time, and thus don't have to go in every single day.
Mika tries to give her daughter some advice, and see Mika's smile leave her eyes after Moe tells her that her advice is not really from experience (and thus a bit hollow). But Mika swallows the jab at her authority/respectability, and keeps on smiling. When she puts the food she happily cooked in front of Kakeru's door, and then knocks on Moe's door for dinner and Moe answers she'd rather not right now, you see her smile slowly slipping away. Anger and sadness replace it.
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My heart breaks for her. She keeps this family together, told them she wanted to talk about something and sent a picture of food. She hints and hints at it "how is the chicken?", "It's delicious even when cold". And yet no-one picks up on it. Her hopes are on Moe, but Moe is in pain and too absorbed with her own problems - Mika doesn't even expect much of Makoto. Yet her husband talking about how Moe is a girl and can take it easy on the job hunt, finally cracks the tension that has been building up. I included her whole monologue in the quote section, because I felt like it was so poignant. This is a self-actualised woman, who wanted to work in publishing but had to go home to her parents. She had to give up on her dream, found a new thing she excels at, cooking. And yet, because she is a homemaker (as expected of her by society), her prowess in the kitchen goes unnoticed at home, while at work she is lauded with an award. The "I'm not saying we should eat dinner together every day. But when you take it for granted that you can come to the table whenever you feel like it, I don't like it" hit me so hard. She does so much and gets nothing in return. Dejected, she retreats to the room she shares with her oblivious husband, and watches videos of the idols she adores, getting lost in their world, where hard work gets rewarded.
The scene between Moe and Mika in the parents' room truly brought me to tears every time I watched it. I, like Moe, have probably said things that inadvertedly hurt my mother. I, like Moe, have also disregarded my mom's advice. Moe and Mika are the closest, so it feels earned that Moe is the one to deliver the praise. And finally, Mika's forced/barely there smile becomes more real again. That hug between them was WONDERFUL.
Makoto acknowledging the thing he left up to superstition - his repair of the tanuki statue curing his daughter - was actually solved through hard work and decision making from Mika. As @twig-tea pointed out, this makes her the hero of the story, not Makoto! It fucking hurts that Makoto only realises years later what his wife has endured and continues to endure for the sake of the family. Daichi said in EP 1 that Makoto's hobby was his family, for Mika the family is her work, her life work.
Makoto, Moe and Kakeru getting the tickets of Mika's favourite idol group for her is also what finally unites them and gets them to have dinner together. Her hesitation is heartbreaking, and will be in the next episode. But I love this first instance of the family being a unit in the series.
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I agree 100%, Makoto. Daichi and Madoka are indeed precious. @bengiyo and @twig-tea have both written very good posts/thoughts about the scene Makoto has with Madoka and Daichi (I also really like the way twig-tea describes Carlos as an "almost [...] non-verbal narrator").
I know this post is already super long (these keep getting longer), but this episode truly made me think of my mom. She, in many ways, is just like Mika. She works part-time (80%), does and has done most of the house work as well as the cooking, keeps up with everyone's schedules etc. After watchin this episode for the first time, I talked about it with her. She also escapes, but she does into fantasy/sci-fi middle grade and YA novels, which have clear heroes and villains and also end happily, are a nice pace to read and have huge series she can get lost in. She has been reading e-books ever since I renewed her library card. I feel like I owe her so much and live at home, yet can't help her completely because she has her set ways of doing things and I can't always just disrupt them. But I do side-eye my stepfather for not helping out more, too. Having a full-time job does not give you the power to just do the odd jobs around the house that you wish to do.
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retrievablememories · 2 years ago
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out loud | seulgi (m)
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pairing: chauffeur!seulgi x celebrity!fem!reader genre: fluff, fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, smut word count: 6k warnings: cursing, injury (ankle sprain), crying, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, some thigh-riding song inspos: out loud - syd ft kehlani | for the night - chloe | touch me - victoria monet ft kehlani | losing - h.e.r. a/n: this is a sequel to lady cab driver!
all this “day in the life of a celebrity” stuff is way out of my range of knowledge, so i’m not sure how much of this realistic, but hey...shrug!
the MC is a singer but not a kpop idol or in the k-industry. i’m not gonna stop if you imagine it that way though lmao
--
you could never deny me
to the eyes of the strangers that watch us when we walk by
so what's with all the silence?
“...so, are you sure you aren’t currently in a relationship?” genie, the podcast host sitting across from you, asks this while twirling her pen a mile a minute and smiling nervously. she innately knows that she’s going to annoy you with this inquiry, but she asks anyway.
you sit up straighter in your seat, giving her an exasperated look. “what do you mean ‘am i sure’? you think i wouldn’t know that or not?”
“okay, calm the attitude!” she cries out, laughing to mask her own annoyance with the way you responded. “i just want to know because you’ve really been different lately.”
“i would if you hadn’t just asked me the exact same question earlier,” you deadpan, completely ignoring her second statement.
amanda, who is your friend-but-not-really and serves as the main host of this podcast, laughs and places her hand on your shoulder. “it’s not that serious, y/n.” she’s also probably wondering where the hell your media training has gone, but you’ve never had much patience for entertaining ridiculous, rude, or annoying remarks even in the public eye. for many people, that quality has made you a bit unpalatable, but you figure the ones who really matter will stick around regardless.
you sigh and try to mockingly roll your eyes, though you think it probably comes off more genuine than playful.
“genie has a point anyway, it’s not hard to tell when you’re having more fun in life, you know…specifically with another person, i mean. your overall demeanor shifts,” amanda says, raising a finger as if you can’t dispute her hot take on it. “and also, there are a few more romantic-slash-sensual songs than usual on your recent EP, so…”
despite yourself, you smile crookedly as you think about the tracks she’s mentioned; it’s more of a smirk now. genie observes your expression and throws her hands up as if to say see what i mean? “does everything have to be from personal experience?” you argue.
“does every song have to be fictional?” amanda shoots back, leaning closer to the microphone in front of her. “or will we all finally realize that there is a fundamental truth in almost every song there is in the universe, no matter how off-the-wall it may be…yes, that even includes eiffel 65’s blue.” you close your eyes and put your forehead in your hand, which means you hear rather than see genie choke on her drink in her laughter.
“don’t start getting all existential on me now, or whatever the fuck it is that you do,” you mutter. “also, you two should be praising your own smarts each and every day for making this an independent podcast, because this silly shit would get you kicked off any actual network. girl.”
--
it’s a matching pantsuit today, and a little more casual than the ones seulgi usually wears. great for your eyes, not so great for your concentration. at least you’re not the one who has to drive.
you almost regret your decision to get in the front of the car, but then again, that outfit is the very reason why you’re sitting up here with her now.
seulgi blinks at you like you’ve just landed from a spaceship as you climb into the passenger seat beside her. it’s not the limo today, which is really only saved for more luxurious outings or when you want to show off in front of a fellow celebrity you’re not too fond of, but the mercedes-benz—which you admit is still show-offy but not as impractical.
“you’re getting in the front seat?” she asks, but turns the engine on anyway and is already backing out of the parking space.
“yes, why not?”
“kind of defeats the purpose of having all those amenities in the back, but okay.”
“i’ve had my fill of ice water and little andes mints for today, seulgi. just let me sit up here with you, please?”
seulgi arches an eyebrow. “well, you don’t have to ask me. even if you never drive it, it’s your car. remember?”
“true…and i know you prefer being told what to do, so…”
there’s an awkward little silence where seulgi makes a sound like a laugh and reddens, which you take as a win for today. it’s become surprisingly more easy to get her flustered ever since you two began your arrangement, when you used to be on the receiving end of it more often than not.
“so how’d it go?” she asks, regaining her composure by changing the subject.
“same as it always is with those damn girls,” you say, chuckling as you think back to one of the many ridiculous things amanda had said during the interview. “they’re fun, though. even if i find something to complain about every time i go on their podcast.”
“what’s your complaint for today, then?”
you hesitate, scratching the back of your head with a sudden awkward air. “they asked me about any ‘current relationships.’ just the kind of gossipy stuff fans always want to know.”
seulgi nods, still keeping her eyes on the road. “so i’m sure you gave some cryptic answer or something? since you don’t like people prying in your business.”
“uh, basically.” that wasn’t the answer you expected, though now you aren’t sure what you were expecting. you two aren’t in a relationship, so why would seulgi act any certain way about interviewers asking you that question?
the rest of the car ride back to your house is filled with sporadic conversation, which also involves seulgi reminding you of your weekly schedule for what feels like the 50th time. transporting you everywhere means she needs to know your entire itinerary at all times, which also means she essentially plays the roles of both chauffeur and personal assistant. the convenience of it is perfect, but occasionally, it also serves to make you feel more confused about your “involvement.”
the lines between personal and professional have blurred so much that you no longer know what’s wrong and what’s right.
and now that you’re in it, it feels odd to field relationship questions, write romantic songs while telling yourself you have no particular subject in mind, and keep your arrangement a secret so that no one in the public world knows about seulgi’s connection to you as anything other than your chauffeur. it feels odd to have her drive you around the city to important work events or interviews and accompany you across the country on professional business trips, only to see her again several nights a week in your bed.
within the small bubble consisting of your personal team and close friends, everyone knows about what you and seulgi have going on. they don’t comment on it, which you prefer, though you can’t rid yourself of the slight paranoia of what they must say when neither of you are around. especially danika…a backup dancer and friend of yours who you were involved with in a similar way before seulgi ever came along.
but as long as no one opens their mouth to you about it, you’ll be fine. even if you’re beginning to feel a little confused about the nature of all this. maybe you’re just overthinking it.
seulgi’s hand on yours is warm and familiar as she helps you out of the car. it makes you feel weirdly sappy for a moment, so you don’t think twice as you lean forward to kiss her on the corner of the mouth, like a preview of the real thing. just a teaser. you chuckle at the lipstick print that’s left there when you pull away.
“will i see you tonight?” you ask, though it feels more like a confirmation of something you both already know.
she nods and rubs her thumb over the back of your hand with a smile. “tonight.”
--
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a music festival in europe, a week later...
you’re in your dressing room with some of your dancers and other team members, mentally preparing yourself to get on stage in just a few minutes. danika plops onto the soft gray couch beside you, purposely taking up the rest of the space on it so that her head is in your lap, hair fanning across your legs. you look down at her face, sighing at being disturbed out of your routine.
“well, hello. now what brings you over here?” you ask.
"nothing special," she replies, though you know that isn't true just by the expression on her face. "you must be excited to be performing your new songs for the first time with a live audience." her eyes are alight with the thrill of performing again after a while.
“i’ll stay excited as long as all you guys keep it together and make me look good.”
she rolls her eyes. “of course we will. you and i didn’t spend like 5 years dancing at every possible event to not look good together.” the stress she puts on together makes your ears perk up.
scoffing, you shove her shoulder in a way that you both know isn’t serious. “okay girl, i didn’t even say all that and you know it, so don’t start.”
“i’m just joking,” danika shrugs, and then speaks lower so no one else can eavesdrop; though they’re all preoccupied with their phones and conversations. “though, i’m always open if you are. for old time’s sake, or whatever.” her voice and posture are as casual as can be, one of her hands behind her head, but your eyes widen a little. you’re not entirely sure how to respond to that knowing you’re regularly having sex with seulgi—which danika surely also knows.
you and seulgi never really discussed the terms of your arrangement. instead, you just…decided you really liked that day in the limo, wanted to do it again, and continued falling into bed together. whether sleeping with other people is okay is unbeknownst to you, though you suddenly realize you have no desire to do so.
you shove danika again, trying to play off your surprise and uncertainty. “where’s that even coming from all of a sudden?” she interlocks her hands with yours as you try to pull away, and the both of you end up scrabbling on the couch, your question left unanswered. “if you mess up my outfit before i have to go on stage—”
seulgi walks into the room casually sipping from a smoothie cup alongside your manager sherry, and as engrossed as you are with play-fighting danika in your lap and trying to untangle yourself from her, you don’t notice seulgi glancing over in your direction. her eyes squint and her whole body pauses for a second, but she does nothing to make her presence known to you. just as quickly, seulgi brings her attention back to your manager, only catching the tail-end of what the woman was saying.
“sorry, can you say that again? it’s a little loud in here.”
seulgi focuses fully on sherry now, but there’s still something itching in the back of her mind. there’s no reason for her to feel weird about you and danika acting as friends do. it’s not that kind of relationship, she reminds herself, though deep down, she can’t help feeling a bit bothered at that level of closeness between the two of you.
--
before long, it’s time for you to go out on stage and perform.
there are so many different things to think about whenever you’re on stage, but every time, it all comes together like a type of second nature to you. there’s little time to dwell in your nervousness when interacting with fans and making sure you’re hitting every note and dance move. out of all the nonsense that comes with notoriety and the entertainment industry, these moments when you actually get to live and breathe in your talent and share it with others are what makes everything else worth dealing with.
even when you get to the last song in your set, you’re not yet ready for the night to end, having fed off the crowd’s energy and used it to fuel your own adrenaline.
things shift drastically halfway through the first chorus, though, when you twist around a little too harshly during a spin and your heel goes out from under you. you feel a sharp pain burst in your ankle, and it’s intense enough to send you stumbling to the ground. for a few seconds, your mind spins from the shock until you realize you’re no longer standing.
“shit, y/n!” someone grabs your arm from the side, and you realize it’s danika. there’s a wave of concern from the crowd in the form of panicked screams and shouts. seeing everyone’s shocked faces makes your heart beat faster; you can’t help feeling like you need to defuse the situation, reassure the fans, and salvage what you can.
grinding your teeth together from the pain, you bring the microphone back up to your mouth with one hand while wrestling your heels off with the other. “i’m okay...the show ain’t over yet!” there are many cheers at that statement, though the aura of concern still persists. moving the mic away, you tell danika, “it’s fine, go back to your spot.” the rest of your dancers are still keeping with the choreography for the sake of professionalism; danika looks at you like you’ve lost it, but you shoo her away, so she rushes back to her place amongst the others.
now without your heels, you push yourself back to your feet and limp through the rest of the choreography, making a concerted effort to keep your voice steady through the pain.
as the last notes of the instrumental fizzle out, your dancers gather at your sides as they’re meant to do for the ending of this song, but a couple of them—including danika—sling their arms around you so they can support your weight. they lead you off the stage to the tune of thousands of screams, yet all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears. you’re so distracted you even forget to say your regular thank yous and goodbyes to the crowd.
you are able to keep yourself together until you get backstage and sherry wrangles you down into a chair and scolds you for still trying to dance on your injured foot—at which point you put your face in your hands and burst into tears.
“that was so stupid. i looked so stupid out there. what the fuck is wrong with me? everyone probably hates me now!”
“that’s not even true.” sherry sighs, now regretting how she immediately complained instead of trying to reassure you.
“no they don’t!” danika says at the same time. “you’re overthinking it. look, we just need to get you to the hospital.”
you shake your head, your eyes burning with tears and face still hidden by your hands. “this is why i hate heels.”
seulgi isn’t surprised at your injured state when you’re helped into the car, having already been alerted by your manager. she is startled by how much you’re crying over it, though she doesn’t show it. she’s never seen you shed one sad tear before this.
seulgi drives you to the nearest hospital with sherry, danika, and a couple other essential members of the entourage in tow. she doesn’t go in with you and the others, as it’s her job to have the car ready to swoop you away from any prying fans or paparazzi whenever you get done. instead, she spends most of her time in the car drumming her fingers against the wheel and fidgeting in her seat. the other percentage is spent resisting the urge to take her gloves off so she can bite her nails.
it feels like hours before sherry texts to update seulgi and you’re in her sights again, brought out in a wheelchair and your big sunglasses firmly covering your eyes. seulgi is a little taken aback at her own relief but doesn’t dwell on it long, as her main focus is getting you out of the parking lot in one piece amid the photographers trying to crowd the car.
sherry rolls down the window to growl at them, “get the fuck out of the way! we’re not paying for your hospital bills if you get run the fuck over!” this seems to be enough to back them down, though they’re clearly not happy about being spoken to in such a way.
the rest of the ride to the hotel manages to be fairly calm, and you are whisked up to your room by the others. seulgi parks the car in the parking garage and finally unclenches her hands from around the steering wheel. she yanks her chauffeur’s gloves off and runs her hands through her hair, feeling like one weight has lifted while another simultaneously settles itself down on her shoulders.
seulgi has barely stepped foot into her own room when she gets a text, and she sighs—doesn’t look like she’ll be clocking out for the night now. but after receiving texts from sherry all night, she doesn’t expect the message to be directly from you when she checks her phone.
2:03 a.m. y/n: can you come up to my room?
there’s no explanation. it’s just those seven words. seulgi’s heartbeat speeds up anyway.
within minutes, she’s being let into your room by sherry, who appears to be on her way out.
“you know what to do if you need anything,” sherry calls over her shoulder.
“yeah, i got it mom!” you reply, which earns you an eye roll from her.
sherry nods to seulgi as she slides past her, patting her on the shoulder. “you know she’s injured, so—take it easy, yeah?”
seulgi only scoffs at that, her ears reddening at the implication. she closes the door after her and walks to your bed, where you’re lying with your injured foot propped on a pillow and wrapped in a bandage. the TV is on a random station that seulgi knows you’re not even watching, the volume so low it might as well be muted.
“how are you doing? is your foot okay?”
you shrug, looking tired and disappointed with the world. “it’ll live, i guess. it’s a sprain, so it’ll heal eventually…good thing it’s not a damn fracture.”
“i’m glad it’s not serious,” seulgi says, allowing herself to breathe easier.
you sigh and recline further against the pillows. “feels kinda like the end of the world, though.”
“i know. i’m sorry. you were really good today, though, and i hope that counts for something.” seulgi absentmindedly scratches her thumbnail against one of the pillows on your bed. “you already know i thought the only girl was great,” she adds, referring to one of your new songs.
you lean your head on your hand, your face warming at her compliment. you think back to the night you’d invited a handful of close friends—including seulgi—to listen to that track and a couple other completed ones. “i don’t know why i released that song to the public. it seems too personal. and then i performed that tonight before falling flat on my ass in front of thousands? shit!”
seulgi gives a lopsided smirk. “has anybody ever told you how dramatic you are?”
you shake your head fiercely, pretending not to know. “no, never, i think?” before the conversation can continue down that road, you blurt out, “could you stay with me?”
“you want me to stay the night?” it certainly wouldn’t be the first time seulgi has stayed over with you, but she’s kind of surprised you want her around while you’re in this state.
in this context, you’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you nod. “you just saw me have a complete meltdown over a fucking ankle that will heal anyway. we go together now.”
seulgi is even more dumbstruck by that statement, and her heart starts full-on hammering against her ribcage. she can’t tell if your tone is joking or not, which makes it harder to decipher if you’re actually claiming a relationship with her in this moment or just talking shit like you always do.
it doesn’t help that she’s still feeling a bit confused over your earlier interaction with danika and how it bothered her more than she anticipated. like you, she has begun wondering a little more deeply about where the boundaries of this arrangement end and begin.
at this point, she’s too afraid to ask. the opportunity seems to have passed as you peel back the comforter on the unoccupied side of the bed and pat it impatiently with an imploring look.
“i haven’t even showered since this morning,” seulgi says weakly.
“can’t you shower now?”
“i–yeah, i guess. but i’ll have to go back to my room to get clothes.”
“do you have to go? you can just wear the hotel robe here.” you gesture vaguely to the door of your closet, which is currently closed, but seulgi presumes the said garment must be there.
“and sneak out of the room like that in the morning?” seulgi looks at you in mock horror, and you laugh nervously.
“come on, i can just get sherry to run to the store and get you a new outfit—” you’re about to say something else but stop yourself. “or…maybe you’d rather just sleep in your own bed tonight? uh, that’s fine, i don’t want to—”
“no, i do!” seulgi starts hurriedly pulling her suit jacket off as if to prove to you her desire to stay. “seriously, stop overthinking it!” she calls out as she heads to the bathroom, though she’s also addressing herself.
and so you wait for seulgi to get finished while flipping through channels that don’t offer much to watch. the analog clock on the wall by the TV edges towards 3 a.m. with every minute, but a regular sleep schedule has been foreign to you for years now. your body feels the exhaustion, but your mind is too awake to allow sleep.
seulgi crawls into the bed beside you after she gets out of the bathroom, draped in the hotel robe as you suggested, her hair damp against her cheeks and face bare of makeup. she notices your restless demeanor and asks, “what are you thinking of?”
“i don’t want to think about anything right now,” you reply, which isn’t really an answer, but it’s better than having the awkward what are we? discussion that keeps plaguing your mind.
“what do you want to do instead, then?” seulgi asks, trying to probe your mind.
“you.”
seulgi sits up, knowing the tone of your voice and what it signifies. “you’re injured, y/n,” she murmurs, but she can guess how you’ll respond—which is why she shifts closer anyway. “at least let me do all the work.”
seulgi leans closer to kiss you on the lips, so sweetly that it makes you grin into the embrace. her damp hair tickles your face as you kiss, getting tiny drops of water on your skin. the droplets spread as her lips move to your neck and you slide one of your hands to the back of her head, feeling the strands slip between your fingers.
she remains careful of your injured right foot as she situates herself halfway between your legs, straddling your left thigh and letting you feel her bare against your skin from where your shorts have ridden up. one of her hands slips beneath your tank top, her fingers grasping your breast, thumb grazing across your hardening nipple, and it’s not long before the other hand joins to caress both of your breasts beneath the fabric. each moan that comes out of your mouth is greeted with a kiss from seulgi’s lips as your mouths remain enmeshed.
your hands settle on seulgi’s hips, and you can’t resist the urge to flex your thigh a bit and make the muscle shift against her. at your motion, her lips part in a moan similar to your own. “y/n, seriously…” her words dissolve into a chuckle as you make the motion again and drag her hips forward in tandem.
“sure you don’t want me to handle this?” you ask lowly, flexing your thigh again in reference to the aforementioned this making a wet mess on your skin.
“no, let me before you try to take over as usual.”
she slides down and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, and you carefully lift your hips up to aid her in getting them halfway down your legs. she’s hardly surprised to see your lack of underwear, which you have often cited as being “too restricting.”
her hands grasp both of your thighs as she kisses the skin above your navel, around it, across your hips, and down to your inner thighs, her tongue coming out to trace a path down your pubic mound until it meets the glistening pearl it’s looking for.
“seulgi…” you sigh, shifting your hips to get closer. she answers your call of her name with a wet swipe over your clit and several more after, closing her lips gently around the sensitive bud to heighten your pleasure. never able to keep still for long, she slides one hand off your thigh to spread your lips apart for more access, fitting her tongue inside you after she’s gotten you sufficiently worked up to where your clit is throbbing on her lips. her soft mouth on you has you forgetting the pain of your sprained ankle and the embarrassment of the day’s earlier events as your head sinks back against the headboard, every nerve in your body trembling with the anticipation of release.
she separates her tongue from you to tease two of her fingers at your entrance, stimulating the ultra-sensitive nerve endings there, and that move makes you nearly scratch at her arms to get her to bring her mouth back into play. “y/n, be patient…” she chuckles, her breath warm between your thighs. her fingers reach that spot inside you repeatedly only to flutter against it as she pleases, constantly shifting away and leaving you wanting just that much more.
“shit, i-i can’t take it,” you cry out, your voice breaking on the last word when her fingers stroke that spot and the tip of her tongue circles your clit at the same time. “you seriously expect me to be p-patient right now?”
“only for a little while longer,” she answers, looking at you from beneath her lashes, her skin the color of rose petals. “could you do that for me? i just don’t want this to end so soon.” you are so wet by now that the sounds of your slick occupy the pauses between her words, the sheets beneath you damp from your own wetness and your sweat.
your eyes slide closed after you regard her entreaty, and you offer no intelligible response besides a low, almost stifled moan. you’ve already made up your mind that you’ll make no promises anyway, because you can’t last much longer like this. the way her fingers move against your walls now, assuredly grazingthat spot every time and no longer purposely missing it, has your mind spinning out of control with the need for climax.
your jaw slackens when her mouth returns to you fully again, sucking up your wetness like it’s much-needed water and her tongue stroking across the most sensitive parts of you. the tension in your body tightens until the snapping point, a shaking and high-pitched gasp escaping your mouth.
you flex your legs so intensely that it makes your ankle hurt, but that pain gets lost somewhere in the rush of your orgasm, which spills forth and fills up every corner of your body simultaneously. your voice stutters out of you so that it sounds like you’re sobbing, and you think you might actually be when a tear or two slips from your eye. still deep inside you, seulgi keeps prolonging your climax until you are spent, sighing and slumping against the headboard at an uncomfortable angle.
seulgi rests her head upon your left leg and listens to your gradually slowing breathing, grinning to herself at being the cause of it.
“come on.” eventually, you pull on seulgi’s arms to bring her closer, and she follows. you taste yourself in the ensuing kiss, but you are more focused on sneaking your hand between her thighs, your fingers sliding in the slick and circling her clit before nudging lower to push inside her. her thighs tense around your hand, and she releases a pleasured moan. she requires no coaxing to rock against your hand, though you provide it anyway because you know she likes to hear you talk her through it. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you? i can’t get enough of you, seul.”
“for you,” she repeats, her head lolling on her shoulders as you crook your fingers into the spot she loves—and that you might possibly love even more, for the way she responds when you do it. one of her hands clenches in your shirt while the other goes to circle her clit as you continue fingering her.
“you’re the prettiest when you touch yourself,” you murmur, your own arousal pooling again even as you focus on her. your lips go to her neck and you nibble the skin gently there, causing her to shudder, the robe falling down her shoulders. the taste of her skin right out of the shower is one of your favorite things, you think.
seulgi‘s orgasm is as sweet as the kiss you share while she squeezes around your fingers. you shift your mouth so you can kiss the sweat beads off the side of her face, her jawline. you laugh quietly, perhaps from how much you enjoyed the pleasure you just shared, and she follows suit after catching her breath. it feels like only you two exist in the world right now, laughing for hardly any reason at all.
although tonight turned into possibly the shittiest night of your career, you think it couldn’t have ended any better than this.
--
you wake up with some of seulgi’s hair in your face, and the sheer familiarity of it has you momentarily forgetting that you’re in another country. you are uncomfortable from sleeping on your back all night due to your foot, but you feel better from having her by your side first thing in the morning. you try not to think too deeply about how your heart throbs just from looking at her sleeping face—how cliche it all feels and yet you aren’t even together.
for some reason, that bothers you this morning more than it has any other morning.
more time passes before seulgi begins stirring against you; the sun has risen higher above the horizon and is now brightening the room considerably even through the curtains. seulgi covers her mouth as she yawns. somehow, this one simple action out of everything else is so endearing to you that it has you speaking before you can reconsider.
“uh, i meant what i said last night, you know,” you say, averting your eyes to the ceiling. maybe it will potentially hurt less if you don’t look.
“which part?” seulgi is still half-asleep as she moves flyaway hairs out of her eyes.
“that we…that we go together, actually. maybe we should do more than just have sex.”
seulgi blinks.
“the songs really all were written with you in mind,” you blurt out, as if it must be said now or never. “not really any relationship i had years ago.”
“you’re serious?” seulgi sits up now, becoming more conscious with each second and her surprise mounting.
“i’m very serious….and feeling a little dumb right now,” you answer, rubbing your hand across your forehead in a nervous gesture. you hadn’t planned for just how nerve-wracking the actual “feelings” part would be; the sex had always been easy.
“but what about danika?” seulgi rushes out, then startles like she hadn’t meant to say that at all.
“danika?”
“i just thought—you two are still close.”
“yes, but that’s been over for years.” at first, you assume that seulgi must be thinking the songs you wrote are actually about danika; but after considering what the other woman proposed to you yesterday, you realize it’s likely deeper than that. you make a move to sit up, and seulgi helps you up when she notices. “there’s nothing between me and danika, and i don’t want there to be. we are close and we play-fight and do stupid shit because that’s how we’ve always been, but i don’t want to do anything that’d make you uncomfortable.”
despite your words, seulgi pulls the robe tight around her shoulders in a self-conscious move. “but i don’t want to, like…intrude. or stop you from having fun with your friends. i’m the new person around here anyway. i mean, what if…i don’t know, i just—”
seulgi’s worries are interrupted when you grab her hands and bring them up to your face, pressing your lips to her knuckles. you keep them there for a few long moments before you lean forward to kiss her, and she responds in kind.
“you don’t have to worry about anything like that, okay? if i say it’s me and you, then it’s me and you. everybody else knows not to fuck with me on that,” you insist, and that pulls a laugh out of her as she shakes her head.
“fine,” she relents with a sigh and a smile, and though it’s just one word, you can tell you’ve eased her thoughts.
“could you trust me?” you ask quietly, still holding her hands. you press them to your chin, if only to feel her on as many places of your body as you can.
“yes. i can.”
the two of you sit like that for a few blissful minutes, simply breathing each other’s air and enjoying each other‘s company, before your phone starts ringing and doesn’t stop. sighing, you see that it’s a call from sherry and know you have to answer or she’ll never stop calling.
“what’s up, sherry?” you ask, leaving one hand free so that you can keep playing with seulgi’s fingers.
“i hate to break up all the fun for you guys, but you’re aware that we’re checking out today, yes?” there’s movement and talking in the background, so you figure the others must be in the room with her. “i’ll be up there for you soon, so don’t even think about complaining. and make sure you have some damn clothes on!”
“of course, mother dearest. anything else i should know?” you quip, giggling.
“anything you should know? yeah: i’m not playing. i’ll carry you outta there if i have to.”
“okay okay, i got it. loud and clear. let me get dressed now, bye!” you hang up the phone before sherry can say anything else and almost go to leap off the bed like you usually would before remembering your ankle is injured.
“y/n!” seulgi exclaims, grasping your arm tight so you don’t slide off the bed. she rolls her eyes before you both laugh at your silly mistake. “looks like i’ll have no choice but to stick around…if only to keep you safe.”
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learnfromwebtoons · 9 months ago
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Lesson 11 - Clothes Make The Characters
Today’s Lesson: Clothes Make The Characters
Today’s Teacher: Swolemates by LummyPix
Hi, I'm back! And by back I mean I had an idea for a lesson and have returned to impart it to the masses before disappearing back into my cave.
I've been reading Swolemates by LummyPix and generally enjoying it- the jokes are generally pretty funny and the story, a college comedy about a gamer jock and the influencer next door, is genuinely unique for the platform. And of the three main gripes I have with it, two of them are minor nitpicks (the character names are all a few letters off from names an actual person might have, the desaturated color palette makes everyone's skin look slightly gray), but one is, I think, more broadly applicable to other comics as well.
Clothing.
Making a comic is hard because in addition to being a writer and a draftsperson, you have to also be a prop designer, actor, set designer, colorist, cameraman, and costumer all in one. That last role in particular is missing from Swolemates, where all of the characters are first year college students that wear plain T-shirts, tank tops, and sweatpants all the time.
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I've been reading a lot of Derek "Menswear Guy' Guy's tweets lately, like many people, and one of the ideas he brings up a lot is that clothing is a language. Your outfit communicates things about you to the people who see you: information about your status, occupation, and personality. A comic that doesn't pay attention to the clothing the characters wear is missing out on an opportunity to tell the reader additional information about their characters, which I feel like is happening here.
The reader is told that Dani is a Popular Girl and Shaye is Alt/Nerdy, and while their hair and makeup reflects those characteristics, their clothing does not. Most of the time, every single character is wearing a plain, solid-color T-shirt. Nobody ever wears a pattern or a shirt with a graphic or text on it.
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You don't! You look like a video game avatar someone stopped customizing after they finished the hair and face! Which is worse!
The makeover arc the above screenshot comes from is not used for the traditional makeover arc reason of showing the reader the protag in many cute outfits, but to allow Alex and Shaye to bond more and show how Alex is so fit and buff regular pants don't fit her. Which is a missed opportunity to find Alex clothes she looks good in that fit her personal style and aesthetic, and that would distinguish her from the rest of the cast.
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The desaturated color palette doesn't help either.
After this sequence, Alex and Dani both go right back to wearing plain solid-color t-shirts, and occasionally tank tops. The makeover and Dani's interest in fashion are both fleeting and temporary.
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A simple change that would increase the realism of everyone's outfits and add personality would be to put graphics on the shirts. Shaye could wear anime merch, Alex could wear video game shirts, Dani could wear college merch. If there's one thing I know about college student fashion, it's that everyone ends up wearing shirts they got for free from their school at random events, and nerdy kids wear shirts about the things they like (as a comics major at art school, I found myself in multiple classes where every single student was wearing a shirt from a comic/movie/game they like.)
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A more involved change would be to assign everyone a general color palette they tend to wear and make sure they wear things with patterns, prints, and accessories, at least occasionally. Shaye could wear skinny jeans, Docs, band wristbands. Alex could wear streetwear that is both comfortable for her and reflects her video game interests.
The makeover sequence also serves to communicate to the reader that the creator is not personally interested in fashion or clothes and will not be considering them in this comic, which is a real shame because, like I said, clothing is an opportunity to show readers more about what kind of people these characters are, and is an important part of character design. The clothes people wear are often not even about what's currently fashionable (especially these days, with current trends cycling faster than a washing machine), but out of a desire to signal that you belong to a particular group. Like how finance bros all wear those fleece vests, and fans of musicians wear shirts from their concerts.
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It's easy to feel intimidated by the amount of history and possibilities fashion opens up in regards to character design, so creators who aren't personally interested in fashion might try to avoid thinking about it because it's easier that way. But if you take the time to do a bit of research and think a bit about what your characters would actually wear, it will pay off.
Also, as a practical consideration, iconic clothes a character wears could become merchandise for your comic later on!
Exercise: Now it's your turn to give your characters a wardrobe overhaul! Draw your characters in their underwear as a base, copy paste that base several times, and draw a few outfits over it. Try to come up with at least 3 daily wear outfits, what the character wears to sleep, a formal look and a first date look. Think about what your characters value in clothing-- comfort, showing off, expressing their personality, belonging to a subculture? Where do your characters get their clothes- do they go shopping with friends, do their parents pick them out, are they wearing a school or work uniform whenever we see them and if so how do they customize that uniform, if they do customize it? Also consider color schemes and recurring motifs.
Webtoon Recs: I want to recommend Cursed Princess Club again because it's not a comic about fashion in any way, but it uses the characters' clothing to communicate information extremely effectively. Everyone's outfits communicate where they're from and what their position is. Everyone from the Pastel Kingdom wears pastels, everyone from the Plaid Kingdom wears plaid, everyone from the Geometric Kingdom wears shapes. Calpernia's crown has a net attached to it to allude to her spider-themed curse. The major characters are also clearly color coded, making it easy to keep track of them in a busy scene. Gwen is green (and her love interest Frederick is a darker green plaid), Lorena is lavender, Maria is powder blue, Jamie is pink. The way they dress reflects their personalities as well, and when special events like balls happen their outfits for those events also help communicate the characters' personalities.
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It's not necessary to focus entirely on fashion and clothes to create outfits for your characters that help tell your story better! Also Cursed Princess Club is just extremely good all around.
A comic that is about fashion and using clothes to express yourself (but also about teen drama and gender/sexuality) that I enjoy is Acception. The main character is a fashion/sewing youtuber who befriends a goth girl in his class, but not everyone around him is as interested in fashion as he is. The goth girl's brother, for example, dresses much more casually and simply than she does, and the character designs for everyone slowly change over the course of the comic as people get different haircuts or teenage growth spurts, or decide to try something new with their style as they get older. I especially like how Iris's outfits frequently incorporate butterfly shapes as something she likes to wear.
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It's cute and funny, and puts a lot of thought into its details despite having a simpler art style than many webtoons.
Clothes are an important part of character design, and too many people neglect to think as much about them as they should.
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rhaenizziettie · 1 year ago
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Legacies 1x05 Rewatch:
The Dryad, I've missed her
I actually love how they show the evolution of the school with stuff like adapting to monsters and giving the students a voice
No because who takes over Raf's spot on the Honor Council when he dies
"YoU'rE nOt GoNnA lOsE tHe ElEcTiOn OvEr An OuTfIt." Why is it so hard for Josie to just support her sister for once.
"Lizzie Saltzman only cares about Lizzie Saltzman." You mean the Lizzie Saltzman, who does everything for her sister and sacrifices her life over and over again for every other student in that school?
"You still like it when I went low." "Oh, honey, you crush on me." Posie needed more than one season.
"We're not negotiating. Right, Ric?" "Uh ..." Dorian as headmaster would have been a great storyline.
Watching Rafael and Jed spar makes me realize that Finch never got to meet Rafael. What a wasted opportunity.
" You're mocking me." "Yeah but just a little bit." When I say Dorian and Alaric had more chemistry with the Dryad than they did with Emma or Mac ...
" Sometimes in the human world telling the truth can do more harm than good." OH THIS IS ABOUT THE MERGE. MM HMM.
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"I see it in their smiles, in their laughter. I still see her sometimes." Going to cry thinking about that last scene in TVD
"You straight up refuse to swim across the lake." "Excuse the foster kid for never having swim lessons." And now he literally lives, immortal, ferrying across a lake.
Testing his ability to get away from you as fast as possible, Hope? Little Miss Hold on Tight?
So if Malivore's DNA showed up as literally everything, why did Landon's DNA show no supernatural history? Why didn't it raise any red flags?
"It's so nice to know you all love me as much as I thought you did." She's a comedian because I know she knows those kids hate her ass. They attended a book club reading of her diary. They laughed at her funeral. They did NOT love her and she knew it.
"Jackass Jed." If there's one thing the Saltzman twins know how to do best it's come up with nicknames.
"Say no more. I know how much it means to you and I would be happy to help." She needs a hug.
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Tell me again how it's Lizzie who's getting in the way of Josie's romantic life?
What is the SBS sex ed class like because the amount of STD jokes those students make is kind of wild.
Not Josie giving away Lizzie's pink sweater ... like we never even got to see her wear it before you did that ...
"I've always wanted to be part of a power couple." Oh boy do I have news for you Lizzie
No, because Handon's "I don't want to be special" x "I need to be special" dynamic is so delicious
"You know, you can only hold out hope for so long and be hurt by so many people before it starts to seems impossible to trust someone new." "Do you trust me?" "Of course I do." Handizzie excellence.
Why did they have to do S1 Jed so dirty
"I'm trying to rise above it. So let me freaking rise."
"I'm a tribrid. The only one of my kind. No one can represent my interests but me." So does Lizzie finally get her spot on the council after becoming a heretic?
Did the Honor Council just disappear after Hope was forgotten??
Imagine if Lizzie had brought the truth orb with her when she hunted down Hope and confessed to being in love with her
Josie using her father and her sister almost dying since Landon arrived as an excuse to kick him out is kind of funny when you remember that later she kills her sister and doesn't care when her father stuck in a coma and on his death bed.
"This school is family." Guess nobody there can like each other now
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That's TWO magical trees in the Legacies universe now ...
"What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?" No because one day I will write an essay on how all of Josie's love interests end up hating Lizzie for no reason and/or misinformed reasons and there's one common denominator.
"It's not about you. It's about how you treat Josie." Is that not literally about her. Like if your problem is that she doesn't exist solely to serve Josie, isn't that having a problem with her??
"Did you think to ask her if she wanted to run for council before you assumed you'd win?" DID YOU?? BECAUSE THAT GIRL LOOKED LIKE SHE WANTED TO DIE AS SOON AS SHE HAD TO MAKE A DECISION ON THE SPOT LIKE THAT.
The irony in Penelope telling Lizzie that she's left Josie with no room for herself when it's actually the opposite way around. Like real quick Miss Park, which one of them are you telling that they can't pursue their interests because the other twin might want it too?
I will never understand why Penelope acted like Lizzie and Josie couldn't both run for council. It was an open election. All she had to do was put her name in.
"She spends all her energy taking care of you." To recap in the past four episodes she has spent her energy trying to win over Rafael, trying to convince everyone to hate Penelope and not talk about her, trying to get offensive magic put into the school curriculum, trying to get everyone to lose the football game, and trying to drive a deeper wedge between Hope and Lizzie during community service. Now which part of that is taking care of Lizzie?
"You are a black hole of time and energy and love." Is the time and energy and love in the room with us right now?
"She won't ever burn you world down." The foreshadowing to her literally burning the school down ...
Every day I wish Penelope would have been around to see Josie in her black lipstick era.
No because what happened to pretty shots like the Handon kiss? When did TV shows stop caring about cinematic beauty and nicely lit shots and fantastic coloring??
Sandwiches are a Handon thing
"I have a family friend who's expecting you." The fact that we never see Landon with the Mikaelson family friend ...
Every time I see Raf and Lizzie's scene, I think about that post about how lesbians use hetero sex as a form of self harm and there has never been a better example to exist in all of history. Like what part of being told that you're the worst person in the world makes you horny??
Also Lizzie Saltzman kiss a guy without crying challenge. Like sweetie if you're crying every time you have to kiss them, maybe it's for a reason.
Every time I hear Someone to You on the radio I get chills because of this episode
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professorspork · 2 years ago
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u should like!! toootally drop blake and yang outfit references for ur newsbees au. for like. research purposes
!!! okay I can't tell if you're asking this for fanart reasons (EVERYONE SHOULD FEEL VERY FREE TO DO THAT) or for spank bank "my thirst requires an accurate theater of the mind" reasons (VALID) but
this makes me UNHINGED and i plan to be SO THOROUGH so THANK YOU FOR ASKING
i have put this under a cut to spare you all but i think you should click on it and admire the gilded age urchin chic
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first of all, let me say that Newsies Are Beautiful. They have never met two clashing patterns they didn't want to combine and I think they are perfect in every way
that said
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the classic Jack look could certainly use some tailoring before it's truly ready for the Yang prime time
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these numbered fellas give us a better place to start when it comes to I WANT MY NEWSIES TO NOT BE SWIMMING IN CLOTHES TWO SIZES TOO BIG YES I KNOW THE VERITAS OF THEM SCROUNGING FOR WHATEVER BUT ALSO. THIRST.
Fella 1 is a pretty bang-on Yang and you can tell that was his intention because he's growing out his hair, bless. sleeves rolled to show arm, shirt unbuttoned scandalously to show cleavage, open vest, neat cap, high socks. the lower half does lose points for the striped socks that remind me of the Wicked Witch of the East's feet sticking out and the fact that he's clearly in tap shoes as opposed to work boots like his friend Fella 3
Fella 2 gets EXTRA sock points for the argyle and the vest-but-no-collar combo which is very Nora. He also has a neat cap, which Blake always does because she's hiding her ears.
Fella 3 has a sloppy cap but is otherwise a bang-on Blake; kempt and tidy in ways Yang never is even though they are essentially wearing the exact same thing. Blake knows how to button buttons and Yang pretends she forgets every day
Fella 4's rocking the henley and suspenders combo which serves any member of our cast, a fucking classic
Fella 5 is wearing a tie he is trying so hard he wants to look nice at work, 100% a Jaune move
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sir that-- that's not how crutches are supposed to-- SIR--
this Crutchie exhibits excellent Newsie styling in a very Yang color palette. high socks, mixing of patterns, rolled sleeves; excellent. the slightly fancier waistcoat, actually buttoned, isn't something Yang would go for but certainly wouldn't be amiss on Blake, Ruby, or Velvet
Ruby also, of course, wears a signature red scarf instead of her cloak:
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like her scarf and hat just absolutely dwarf her, she's WEE SMOL
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above we see our previous example Crutchie not leaping through the air, and his outfit remains exemplary but for the backwards cap, which I shan't abide. the Jack to his left-- what with his WIDE open shirt, tight undershirt, rolled sleeves, and suspenders, is very Yang.
good Yang looks can also mean THE SHORTEST SLEEVES EVER, TO SHOW OFF THE GUNS:
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both excellent choices, and of course our lower fella (TURN THAT CAP AROUND YOUNG MAN) has got his bandana going, which is Quite Yang
all the guys in the background there are gold too tbh
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look at this king in this fashion pose but also YEAH WHY NOT BANDANAS ON THE ARMS BANDANAS EVERYWHERE the yang xiao long story
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^^ this outfit, on the other hand, is pretty exactly spot-on for Blake immediately post haircut/makeover
Weiss, I'm sure you've already guessed, is a Classic Katherine:
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she's buttoned-up, she's fancy, her shit matches and she's the only one in a skirt.
the only thing where my brain gets REALLY SPECIFIC is the finale so uh. spoiler warning I guess for screenshots of the Newsies film and vague references to a plot resolution if you're reading the AU without having watched it
but the finale looks are ICONIC and non-negotiable
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button shirt OVER henley OVER bandana and nothing's buttoned? suspenders on but hanging loose from the hips? hell yes.
i actually even managed to make that dirt smudge on David's tummy plot-relevant to Blake and that was completely subconscious and I didn't realize I did it until looking up these screenshots but there you have it. and by this point Weiss gets to be a little more loose and dressed-down, a la Sarah
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in conclusion they're in love look at those heart eyes oh my god
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nicepeach1965 · 1 year ago
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KR: Character Info: Shroom-Koopa Alliance
Sorry bout the wait! here it is!
Ex-Queen Peach Toadstool - Straight to the point, and somewhat jaded, Peach still has a bit of a haunty side..but she's been slowly working on it. She's trying to be 'nice' but...really it's just hard right now just give her a break. - The born heir to the throne of the Mushroom Kingdom, Peach grown up to well..the ideals the King and many of it's subjects had for her. Koopas bad, power is good, that's all she grew up with. Loving Mario...that was her greatest mistake, and that combined with all of the revolutions...kicked her off of her throne. And that's where our story begins. - Has no mastery over her given heart power, and at the beginning of this tale, can barely even use it. - why no of course she's not slowly having feelings for the nice turtle man whaaaaaaaaaaat - Appearance: Think of her casual wear from Super Mario Odyssey, expect a bit more grime and dirt on it, a knapsack at her side, and a knife hidden in her shirt pocket. Carries her parasol with her at almost all times.
Koopa King Bowser Koopa Sr. - For a guy feared and hated by many of the Shroomian inhabitants of the land and it's allies...he's really not a bad guy. He's just a single dad, trying to take care of his kids and his kingdom, and helping the former queen get back on her feet. What could go wrong? Certainly not love... - The King of the Koopas hatched from an egg shortly after the death of his father. Raised by his father's royal advisor, he was nurtured with love and taught to treat everyone kindly, because even the worst people have good inside of them. He took this to heart, and now teaches the same lessons to his own children. He applies this lesson daily, as he attempts to make peace with the tyrannical King Mario. - He still has a bit of a temper, but currently he has it more under control. Still wouldn't recommend pissing him off, however. - Appearance: Just think of regular Bowser, only with a blazing red cape trailing him, and the swooped hairstyle he had in Super Mario Odyssey. (Idea by Loog/Keeb, one of my co-writers!)
Royal Wizard Kamek - Kamek serves as the guardian of the Koopa Royalty, often assisting King Bowser or Prince Junior in all sorts of ways. While he may be occasionally fed up with nonsense coming from the royalty or the King's subjects, he does all he can to ensure the royalty's safety, as well as the kingdom's prosperity. - The royal assistant, wizard, and father figure to King Bowser. Kamek's role in the kingdom changed after the coup, becoming the main strategist and executioner in regards of movements against the Mushroom Tyranny. While he hides it pretty well, Kamek could not bear if anything happened to the Koopa Court. - Appearance: Kamek's outfit is hardly changed from his original form. However, in order to boost morale and keep a trustworthy appearance (plus to make himself look decent), he uses his magic to look younger than he actually is, managing to keep a straight posture and sporting short, black hair. (Idea by Co-writer, Marie)
Royal Servant Toadette - The only Toad that decided to travel alongside the former queen, it is..very unclear how she feels about it all, but she always seems to have a chipper attitude about her situation. - On the surface, Toadette seems as sweet as pie, very much loyal to her former Princess. However, beneath the surface, she's rather bitter, and if she's pushed to far, who knows how much longer she'll stay loyal... - "oh look at the little fella OH SHES KINDA A LIL FUCKED UP-" - Appearance: Just think of regular Toadette, only with a bit more of a tattered coat. Keeps a picaxe on her.
Prince Bowser Koopa Junior - Junior looks up to his father in every possible way. He tries his best to be kind to everything, though sometimes his immaturity can get in the way. All Junior wants in life is for the stupid Mushroom Kingdom to stop messing with his Papa so that they can all just relax. Junior is also very creative, and loves to draw. - Prince Junior was born roughly around the same time his seven siblings were adopted into the family. As such, he's had many role models in his life. His siblings taught him how to defend himself, Kamek taught him how to stay safe, he taught himself how to draw and paint, and Papa taught him to be kind to everyone. - Appearance: Junior is mostly the same, save for his bandana being swapped out for a red cape much like his father's (Idea by co-writer Loog/Keeb)
Aaaaand that's all for this post! Soon I'll post more about our villains, but of course, these fellas do have a lot of other allies, this post just- got a lil long. Haha. Enjoy~! 
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gynarchyboi · 2 years ago
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Ms Lane's Winter holiday
My girlfriend, Heather, and left for Florida right after Christmas. We are in Florida for two months, During winter vacation, Butler pretends to be my handyman and lives in our garage apartment. This allows me to date other men publicly without people commenting on it as unusual. No one in that small coastal city knows that Butler is my love interest......During our winter vacation, he remains in his handyman uniform uniform. While there, we do not socialize with each other. The rare times we are seen together, a discerning eye will notice the different costs of our outfits and will easily identify me a the employer and him as the employee. I love the way my friends there see through him as if he doesn't exist. He says it is the most humiliating thing we have ever done. Consequently, it makes him wild for me......While in Florida, we are very careful with our interaction in public. He addresses me deferentially as "Ms Renee". He is a generation older than me so most people accept him as a bit of loser who can't retire because he has always had low paying jobs. I don't mistreat him but I maintain my posture so our interactions appear as if he were what he looks to be- the help. I try not to be too demanding or bitchy because want my friends there to think I'm polite to even him. I admit it's hard knowing that when I do sharpen my tongue towards him, I can see it drive him into deep sub space......He does not try to fit in. He wears the uniform I chose for him. How I dress him and treat him in public during our winter stay is part of the never ending tension between his independence and his submission. Together, we have declared war on his individual manliness. We attack his independence from every possible angle we can find. His clothes and his yearly two month stint as my servant are simply different fronts in the struggle to bring him to perfect surrender......Heather hated that he hung around the property too much. Before this damn virus I found him a job working for a caterer. I loved seeing him march off to work in his serving outfit of black pants, white shirt, and black vest. He had turned 60, he was a retired and successful attorney. I had made him into a servant. Oh boy, it really turned me on. He worked about 20 hours a week at local weddings and parties. Of course, he handed over his earning to me. Heather and I used his check and tips for day long spa treatments......My best moment with his job came at a New Year's Party I attended. One of my friends had decided on a big bash and purposefully suggested the company for which Butler worked. I remember saying, "My handyman works for them and he swears by them.".....Sometimes the Good Goddess gives you an opportunity. I have learned never to miss them. I made sure to have a date for the party. I carefully maneuvered this unsuspecting man into just the right positions so that when the ball dropped and traditional kisses are exchanged, Butler was standing within arms reach wearing his serving livery holding a tray of champagne glasses. I guess my date thought he was an especially great kisser as I seemed to melt into his arms as we embraced. After kissing me, my date took two glasses from Butler's tray. He barely noticed the older man serving. I could not have arranged it more perfectly if I had choreographed it......Butler later said it was the most humiliating and therefore the most exciting thing had ever done to him.
I have been criticized for not acknowledging him as my love interest in public while on vacation every year. I have been told this charade is dangerous. Of course it is. I could learn to love it and decide to retire in Florida. If I do, his social demotion would become permanent. I could become what I pretend to be. There, I am slightly bitchy upper middle class single woman who dates whom she likes. He fears this but he accepts it. It's easy to see why I love him.
vimeo
Msreneelane
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spidori · 1 year ago
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Brain is still going on about this. Adding outfits, combat styles, and a couple of drabbles for funsies.
Val as a red lantern: Val has next to no change in her standard outfit, to the point where I'd honestly be surprised if her outfit (and possibly character too) wasn't actually inspired to a notable extent by the red lanterns. She's already got the exact right color scheme of black on red, with a space for an emblem in the right spot on her chest and everything. The only mod to her suit is to add the emblem of the corps to it, but I am going to argue that Val wouldn't accept being forced to wear a badge on her chest for an organization she didn't choose to join; she does NOT seem like the type to just tale something like that, and Technus did help her get super user permissions... So instead of wearing the logo of the red lanterns on her chest, I'm going to say she integrates it more subtly into her helmet, she's willing to acknowledge where she's drawing extra power from, but never proclaim herself a member of the corps, especially not once she learns how every member besides the leader, Atrocitus, is essentially turned into a mindless rage zombie serving only the whims of the leader.
What does change significantly is Vals combat style as a result of her new toys. For one thing, she can fly now, she doesn't exactly *need* a hoverboard. Is she going to stop using it? Oh hell no! That's an iconic part of the Red Huntress look she's not changing that, but she'll change the board a little bit. How? Well, and this may be a bit of a deep cut, but does anyone remember Toa Lihkan?
For those who don't remember or never had the joy of playing with Bionicles, Lihkan was an old one with a hoverboard that split into two massive swords. Of course Val would love having massive fuck off greatswords on principle, but it's also practical; constructs are great and all, but so is redundancy, especially when you're dealing with something as unpredictable as ghosts can be. I can also see her installing an extending handle on the back of her board to turn it into a gigantic great axe when she needs just that little bit more stopping power.
Despite how fun the sword board is though, let's not forget how powerful and flexible a lantern ring is. Normal red lanterns apparently don't get the standard hard light constructs associated with lantern rings, but again, super user permissions here. Val can summon guns, cannons, and what have you out of shaped ectoplasm, although she'll primarily use it for three things. One, she'll summon blasters to supplement her barrage attacks. Two, she'll throw up shields around civilians, and even property when she can; her dad lost her job because of collateral property damage, if she can avoid putting someone else through that she's going to. And C, she came up with a new finisher/area clearing move...
See, I mentioned that normal red lanterns can't do hard light, what they get instead is their blood replaced with corrosive boiling red plasma-like fluid (which, just gonna point out, that sounds a lot like Ecto that's turned red because it's saturated with rage) that will burn through their enemies of they get splashed, this makes red lanterns terrifying melee fighters, since any injury is more dangerous to the foe if their "blood" splash makes contact. For Val, I'm envisioning her being able to imbue this blazing hot and corrosive property onto her constructs, something she takes fierce joy in doing as a finisher by summoning thousands of tiny brightly glowing red blade constructs and blasts them outwards shredding everything in the vicinity. With those who know her she calls it her "Thousand black rose petals dragon twister" and if you are also weeb enough to get all three references you might just be able to convince her to be friends instead of killing you for knowing her secret.
Tucker as an Orange lantern: For the most part, Tuck is always going to be most comfortable as the guy in the chair, and the Orange lantern and ring are satisfied by this since it also includes him constantly searching for and obtaining new knowledge; thirst for knowledge counts as avarice. So he becomes a little more of a support in the day to day, with an outfit that does have armor elements but is more focused around the detailed integrated ops display visor and multiple monitors with tactile input via what looks like orange Nintendo Power Gloves, but he's also one of the team's heavy hitters when the chips really have to go down. Why? Well remember, the orange lantern corps only ever has one wielder at a time because they go into a avaristic frenzy and take each other's rings and power... oh, and also souls. Yeah. Souls. Which the wielder of the ring can then summon as constructs.
Honestly, this has a lot of overlap to PD, with his army of thralls. And, well, Danny may have inherited them when he accidentally took the crown, but we both know that boy would hate having thralls, even if he couldn't release them for reasons ranging from esoteric legalese to not wanting people who would sell their souls for power like that running free. So he gives em to Tuck instead. His best bud used to be a Pharaoh, and already has an army in the hundreds, what's a few quintillion more (there's a lot of lives in the multiverse, ok) for Tucker to have at his command?
Um... a lot, Danny. That's a lot. Especially When Tucker can comfortably equip each and every one with an orange lantern ring as they're now an extension of himself. So Tucker may tend towards a non-combatant role, but when he feels the need to he will go full IRL-RTS on you and zerg rush your ass, except each and every one of his zerg also wield a lantern ring, one of the most powerful weapons in the universe, so like a zerg rush where every single zergling was a max level primal Kerrigan.
Yeah, remember what I said about all the gods not being enough to help you if you so much as look at his PDA? Starting to see why?
Dan the Yellow lantern: Unlike the first two, for Dan it's the fighting style that doesn't change much. He's always been a calculated brawler through and through, not to mention part Danny with the neverending grab-bag of powers that entails, what's a few more that largely amount to a more solid and complex shaping of ecto that he could already do.
What does change is his look. Not so much his outfit (although that does get some nice gold and glowing highlights as well as the emblem for the corps as the clasps for his cape on each shoulder) but more him in some subtle Eldritch ways. At first, nothing would seem different, which is intentional on his part, but the longer you look at him the more you start to notice things are not normal. Like, how many eyes did he have again? Or limbs for that matter? Can those actually be called limbs? Did he just rearrange the holes on his face? Or is his normal and yours was rearranged and you forgot about it? Oh shit, you're pretty sure not-limbs aren't supposed to bend like that? Are they even bending? Is the space bending? Is he smiling, with those many many "mouths?" All over his "body?" Is that blood or brain matter trickling out of your "nose?" From trying to comprehend what you're looking at?
Yeah, usually he'll just beat up his opponent, but when Dan really doesn't like someone there's a lot of horrified screaming and then they tend to be eerily quiet for as long as the life support can keep them alive.
Danny the Green Lantern: Much like his big brother Dan, Danny's suit stays pretty much the same. He gets some green highlights, but eschews the logo on the chest because hell no is he trading *his emblem* for the logo of a cop, especially once he learns about even a few of the more unsavory parts of the guardians' history now associated with that logo. What he does do is incorporate the glow that lantern rings give with his own ghostly aura, surrounding himself with an aurora effect, and adding a solid green circlet inset with tiny shards of space in place of the floating rime-bound cracks in reality which previously made up his crown.
His fighting style doesn't undergo any major changes either, save also adding more and stronger barriers and the occasional construct weapons just like Val. It is worth noting that Him and Val team up as the team's front line now. Danny will leverage his insane durability and use his quips to draw ALL THE AGRO, while Val dishes out the DPS and prevents escape using her greater comfort with ranged attacks. It also helps that Danny can throw up a barrier to contain her blade storm to a desired area in an emergency. Is this hinting at GrayGhost? ...maybe. But I still don't have time to write it, so...
Jazz the blue lantern: Jazz is one of the only ones to actually take on a uniform which would normally go with her ring. There was a piece of fan art floating around of Jazz as a fully outfitted blue lantern which was actually what kicked off this whole part of my continuing brain rot, but I can't find it atm. If I see it again, or if anyone else has it, let's try to get it attached to this so the artist can get their well deserved credit.
As to fighting, Jazz, like most blue lanterns, tends more towards a support role, but I also say let's give our girl a supercharged Fenton Peeler. Does the blue ring amplify the green Ecto her parents primarily work with? Absolutely! And I also can't imagine a world where her dad didn't tinker with his little princess's favorite weapon over time to give it more features. At the moment it has the normal blast, charged blasts, FlashBang shot, shotgun mode, sniper mode, Gooooooop (crowd control via ectoplasmic glue, and also a Ben 10 reference), various elemental attacks, a lightsaber bayonet, a healing beam like the TF2 medic, and *Three* bottle openers. Danny probably still has her best for sheer number of tricks he can pull out his ghostly butt, but Jazz is giving him a run for his money.
And then there's her scariest ability, so power that she's only ever used it once, and only told Dan, who now has a *very* healthy respect for his older sister. First thing that needs to be understood for this is that all the Amity lanterns have been so saturated with Ecto/emotional energy due to their proximity to Danny and the portal and all their various misadventures over the past five years or so since the portal opened, that they had to master it or be destroyed by it, and they had to do so without the aid of a ring to offload a lot of the focus and strain on to. The ring just gave them a tip tier tool to focus and amplify the control over ectoplasm/emotional energy which they'd already mastered. Each of them is at least as skilled with their ring as the top echelons of their respective corps, and Jazz, is no exception. And while the blue lanterns are all about being hope amidst the atrocities inflicted by others, they've never needed punishments for terrors inflicted by themselves.
So when Sinestro sent his men, they didn't find themselves a fight. And Dan rushed in to find only Jazz. Jazz standing, tired, but satisfied she did her duty. Bent in weariness from a mind filled with memory of what she'd just done, in room filled with husks devoid of hope...
It's honestly a good thing Dan was the one who knew to go first since his yellow ring gave him a heads up that there were other yellow rings approaching. His ability to break people with fear is similar enough that he can understand the nuance of Jazz's ability to literally and permanently suck all of the hope out of an enemy. He doesn't judge her for it either, both because him, and because he knows she was defending herself in an ambush. It means she has someone to talk to about this ability which reminds her uncomfortably of spectra but several orders of magnitude worse. Honestly, it makes for a great bonding experience for the two, with Jazz getting to be the one being taken care of for once in her life, and Dan getting to both ensure he doesn't lose her again to this and to be the bringer of peace instead of fear and destruction.
Sam the Indigo tribe member: Indigo ring-bearers' outfits are typically canonically described as looking hand made; does anyone here seriously believe that Samantha "ultra-recyclo-vegitarian" Manson *doesn't* make her own clothes already? Maybe she adds a *little* more indigo as underlayers to her usual black. And sure, underlayering indigo into her hair goes well with her look already, so she'll do that. What's that you say? She can get her corps emblem tattooed and her parents won't be able to do a damn thing about it because they're "blue-line" folks and they think the indigo tribe are also space cops because they work with the green lanterns and sam never bothered to correct them? And the indigo tribe scout would be happy to do it for her as she's already proven she's one of the strongest members in the corps, and clearly embodies their ideal with her activism even before she got the ring? She wants TWENTY!
The real highlight of Sam's outfit is her staff though. All of the indigo lanterns have a staff they wield. And for this headcanon, Sam is also a bit of a weeb (as are Danny and Tucker, and Jazz to a lesser extent, it just didn't come up in their sections) so she leans into it when making her staff. She GROWS (because the indigo ring awakens the dormant Ecto left after the undergrowth incident) a wooden copy of Hagoromo Ōtsusuki's staff with one key added detail. Each of the six rings on one end contain one of the other lantern corps emblems, with the central ring being the emblem of the indigo tribe with a glowing indigo orb in the center.
As to fighting, Sam really isn't a combat oriented member in this tale; her role is more of an ambassador. Her team makes sure there's a world at the end of the day, and she'll work through even the darkest of night to make sure their sacrifices mean something by using the chances they give to make the world better one speech or reformed villain or assassinated power hungry asshole at a time... ok, so maybe she does do combat, just usually not the same flashy large scale combat as her teammates.
What really gets interesting is when some of those power hungry assholes start catching on to their suddenly increased risk of fatal nightshade poisoning and start hiring some surprisingly skilled bodyguards. Note that I said skilled, not effective. These ninja looking fuckers aren't able to *stop* Sam, but they actually slowed her down by several whole seconds, she's impressed. What organization did the asshole brag he'd hired them from before she tore through them again?
And now Sam is head of the league of assassins. Ras is very much no longer the Demon's head, as it's quite a difficult title to hold when one doesn't have a head of their own anymore, and she's probably banging Talia on the side.
And then there's the Violet Lanterns: Which yeah, I'm going with Vlad, Jack, and Maddie all got a violet ring, because I choose VIOLENCE. They don't though, they're all lovers, not fighters, now. Yes there are multiple ways of interpreting that statement. Yes they're all correct.
The throuple's antics aside though, they mostly work in the lab now. They provide all kinds of tools and weapons for their kids and occasionally the hero community at large as an expression of their love.
And as a last note, I'll leave you with this. For anyone who's seen the Violet lantern corps (also called the star sapphires) uniform, well, you know what it looks like. For anyone else, go look that up and come back.
Did you look it up?
Good.
Now.
Live with the mental image of the throuple in that and constantly flirting with each other.
I warned you I chose the violent option for the violet lanterns.
Due to his unrelenting determination to keep his town safe, Danny is bestowed a green lantern ring. Which on one hand: Yay! He gets to explore space full time. But on the other hand: Ew! he's a space cop now.
He had to rectify this immediately or he would never hear the end of it from his ghost friends. Or his regular friends for that matter. Sayyy, it'd be a shame if he.... bent a few rules. Maybe even broke some of them every now and again. And it would surely be a tragedy if say.... random pranks started happening around Oa?
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privateanxieties · 3 years ago
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shampoo & heartbreak
Summary: Peter’s superhuman senses make things crystal clear: she got a boyfriend and didn’t tell him. Why else can he smell men’s shampoo in her hair when she’s used the same cherry blossom one for years?
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N); fluff, best friend trope, happy ending
Words: 2K
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Spring is Peter Parker's favorite season, for a number of reasons: first and most importantly, it has the perfect temperatures to wear the suit in.  Not too hot, not too cold, and there's no chafing from patches of sweat. Second, it was his girl's favorite season as well, and the time when she brought out and experimented with her cutest outfits.
Well, his girl - she isn't really, but it's hard to think of her as anything else. A lifelong best friend and the ultimate 'what if' was more appropriate.
Late afternoon spring walks through Central Park are his favorite because they're her favorite, and he obliges every time she asks, even if he's otherwise occupied. His mind rolls a giant wheel of fortune, wondering what top she might wear, or which scarf will bring out her eyes, and he's trapped. Fashion is his last concern, but with her, he pays attention; he always does.
Like now, for example. He's paying so much attention to the scent of men's shampoo coming from her hair that it constricts his heart and etches a frown into his features.
No.
His entire body is protesting by turning inside out. His throat is closing up and his chest feels hot. Whatever concentration he had before this has packed its bags and left.
A creature of habit, she is - and has been her entire life. When it comes to things that don't matter much, she always sticks with one choice she likes for years. It's why he can pick her out of a crowd just by her perfume, or why he knows that she's having a bad day and needs comfort when he sees her wearing that lavender sweater.
So why is it that her hair, which has smelled like cherry blossom for as long as he's known her, now reeks of ocean storm or volcanic eruption or whatever the hell he always sees written on those confusing bottles? And why is it so familiar to him?
What, pray tell, does this mean?
Because the only answer his brain finds is extremely unpleasant and serves to plunge his mood into the subterranean.
How could she not tell him? She's seeing some guy, to the point that she's using his shampoo, and she doesn't tell him?
Why is she - why is she showering at his place?
Peter thinks he's going to be sick.
And what's worse is… she doesn't notice.
She's strolling alongside him, recounting the frustration of the afternoon and disappointment at having failed her driving exam, and he's damn near about to lean over the sidewalk and empty out his stomach.
Well, maybe he's being dramatic. But it's like the branch has been clipped from under his feet, and there's nothing but a hundred-foot fall beneath. He thinks he's had this dream before, where his web shooters squeak a laugh every time he presses them, and he falls to his death.
Kind of like right now.
Every human emotion has passed him by: he isn't hungry anymore, there's no discontent with his position in life, and no care given to societal problems.
He's simply on the verge of heartbreak.
"Am I boring you with my failure, Parker?", she asks out of nowhere, an amused huff punctuating her question.
He says nothing, and looks anywhere but at her, prompting an immediate reaction.
"Peter, are you ok?"
When she grabs his wrist, his jaw locks tightly, yet his eyes keep avoiding hers. In the back of his mind, he understands the reaction is somewhat overblown. She isn't his girlfriend and never has been, but he's been hoping for ages for the courage to finally ask. It's the one thing Spider-Man hasn't been able to do for him: get the girl.
If she didn't throw herself at him when he told her, she was never going to. If she didn't like him for being a superhero, then she definitely wouldn't fall in love with Peter Parker. He's happy being her best friend - he'd never be able to imagine himself apart from her, with their paths diverged, even if romance wasn't destined to be in the picture.
He doesn't know why he thought, or hoped, or desperately prayed that even if he never got to devote himself to her that way, at least she'd be… what?
Forever available?
He knows that's laughable. He's lucky to not have experienced this horrible feeling as of yet - all his 23 years seemed bright and carefree compared to what he knows the future now holds.
Would he have to meet him? Because he doesn't think he has the strength to -
"Peter! What's happening?", and then, more hushed, "Is it your spidey sense? Is there danger? Do you need to -"
"Who is he?"
Her eyebrows furrow, but she hasn't quite caught it.
"What?"
Peter is not happy to repeat himself when every word burns his tongue.
"Who is he?", he asks in an impressive mix of dejected and desperate.
"My driving instructor? Why, does Spider-Man wanna pay him a visit? Oh, you're turning to the dark side, mister. Should I be concerned?", she jests quietly.
If Peter had any presence of mind, he would have appreciated how careful she always was with his secret. Always understanding, always supportive. Always worried, with tears at the ready for each of his cuts and bruises.
Alas, his brain was completely out to lunch. Completely focused on one thing.
"Your boyfriend.", he states, trying at least to keep a level tone. They are in public after all, but it's more for her than for him.
A quiet few moments pass, and she's doing that thing, the one thing he never really liked about her: pouting when he can't kiss her.
"My - oh, right, him!", she begins, as if she's just remembering the hugely important news she never shared with him. Is this how little he meant to her? He's trying to breathe normally, noticing their surroundings for the first time in a while.
Peter can't believe he's about to get his heart put on a spit and roasted twenty feet away from a porta potty.
"I mean, he's wonderful, all things considered."
There it goes.
"He's a really good person, even if he gets all angsty and brooding sometimes. He doesn't have any say in what he does. And I try to understand, you know? His life could be easier. It's hard existing exclusively in someone's imagination."
Fuck, this guy sounded - wait.
The expression on her face is that of every mother tired of her toddler's antics. He bristles.
"Why are you hiding from me? Do you not - do you feel like you can't trust me?", he asks just like May taught him. Don't accuse - inquire.
It doesn't work.
"Why am I hiding from you? I think your brain is hiding from you."
"Hey!"
"Hey yourself! What's gotten into you? What boyfriend are you talking about?"
"The one whose shampoo you smell like!", Peter explodes.
He fucked up. He can see it in her face and he can hear it in her pulse. He needs to -
Suddenly, she's looking at the ground and fiddling with her pink satin scarf, a gesture he recognizes; not as one of nervousness or insecurity, but of sadness. And it's his fault.
"I… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.", he murmurs, yet doesn't dare reach for her when he hears the hitch in her breath.
Eyes still glued to the ground and bottom lip between her teeth, she lets out a puff of air that doesn't reassure him.
"I don't know why it matters so much, but if you have to know… it's you.", she says with a small shake of her head, eyes finally meeting his.
He searches, but can't decipher what he sees in them.
"It's… it's me?", Peter asks. He's not even sure what he's asking - he was simply testing out the words on his tongue.
A smile follows that doesn't light up her face like he's used to, and he's lost again.
"It's your shampoo. The same one you've been using since sophomore year, and the one that I smelled when you held me for three hours after Mr. Snuffles died. I… I wash with it sometimes because it… because it feels like I have you with me when I do. I'm sorry if you think that's creepy or weird. I just needed… I was nervous today."
His first thought is fuck. His second one is also fuck.
Peter Parker is one huge fuck up.
If she doesn't cry, he's certainly going to do the honors. The moisture isn't far away, and neither is she, so this time he goes directly for it. Though they've shared hundreds of hugs, the feeling of her against his chest never fails to make him worry that she can hear his heart trying to escape his ribcage.
She hesitates, but ultimately encases his abdomen in a loose hold, hands clasped together at his lower back. And he can think again.
"I'm sorry I yelled. And I'm sorry I was…"
He can't say it, because it would make it true, and she would pity him.
"Sorry you were what?", she mumbles against his shirt.
"…"
"Pete. I'm gonna ask you something, and you have to promise you'll be honest with me. I really want you to be.", she says quietly, stepping into him just a little bit more.
He's glad her head is tucked under his chin, because his face probably gives it all away.
"Were you mad… because you thought I was lying to you about a boyfriend, or because…"
"The second one.", he interrupts, shocking her and himself a little bit too. But if she was going to read him down to the last atom, then he'd meet her halfway and give them both the opportunity to just be honest. Either they happen, or they don't, but he can't dance around it anymore.
"You… you mean - does that mean what I want it to mean?"
They're soft and uncertain, her words. They fall off her lips like baby birds fleeing the nest. Not quite ready, not quite unready.
"What do you want it to mean, bud?"
His are similar, but tinged with more hope than he's ever dared having. Maybe they're a little shaky, too.
"I want it to mean that you feel that way about… me. Like I've wanted you to for… I don't even know anymore."
He sucks in a quiet breath.
"Since we still had really bad acne?"
Her eyes close and a sigh leaves her chest, but she wouldn't expect any less from her best friend - always reacting with humor in emotional situations.
"Well, yours disappeared when you got bit, and mine took three more years, so our timelines don't really match up here -"
If Peter Parker couldn't bear the sappiness of romantic confessions, at least he was fully in favor of romantic gestures, and silencing his partner with a kiss would be the first of many.
He can't believe this is how they get together: a silly argument that his nose started and his mouth ended.
So really, in a roundabout way, it was Spider-Man that got him the girl.
Now, he just needs to make it up to her as Peter Parker.
"You don't know what your own shampoo smells like?", she mumbles against his lips once they part.
"Shut up, it smells different on you.", he returns, pecking her nose.
"Good different?"
"Now that I know it's mine, yeah."
"Mmhm… y'know what else is yours?
He stutters without words.
"That fat ass!"
He ends up chasing her all the way out of the park, infectious laughter turning curious gazes, but love needs only a glance to be spotted wherever it is.
-fin-
A/N: Any feedback is welcome, whatever form it’s in! Thank you for reading. You’ll find more Peter fluff on my blog. I write mostly for tasm!Peter.
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gary-mu · 2 years ago
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Appetizer
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Pairing: En x afab/female reader
Genre: smut, pwp
Word count: 1421
Warnings/Tags: teasing, sexual tension, semi-public masturbation, vaginal fingering.
Summary: After inviting you to dinner, En decides to treat you with a full course meal spiced with lust.
A/N: En's got me simping so hard that I just couldn't help but write this 🥵
Don't worry. This is a three course meal so there's more coming... Pun totally intended 😉
Thanks for reading 🧡🧡🧡
Read it on AO3
If you met yourself 3 months ago and told her you're now dating the most powerful and influential sorcerer in the world, she'd probably think you're playing a joke on her. Then she would walk away from you while wiping the tears off her eyes as she laughs out loud. But as crazy and impossible as the idea may have appeared at that time, it has turned into reality without you even trying.
Today is the sixth time since you meet, that you go out on a date with En. And still, the butterflies in your stomach seem to throw a rave every time you see him. You can't deny it anymore, the sorcerer's got you going head over heels. His dark and mysterious demeanor drives you crazy and wakes up an unknown side of you, feral and primitive. His intelligence and maturity arouse you. His rare kind side and natural charisma make you melt and feel warm inside. And the fact that he is also easy on the eye, is a very welcomed plus.
"Good evening, Y/N," En opens the car door, giving you a sweet smile as you step out. "You look stunning as always," he husks, opening his mask to kiss your hand -something he began doing a couple of dates ago-.
The sorcerer's lips linger on your skin a little longer than usual. Your cheeks turn as red as your dress, and you hold your breath to avoid your heart from exploding in your chest. His touch makes your skin burn and your knees weak. Inhaling deeply, you try to compose yourself and ignore the growing tingling sensation between your legs. Just imagining that mouth somewhere else on your body is making your temperature reach surface-of-the-sun levels.
"You look quite handsome as well," you reply, trying to play it cool after he lets go of your hand. He's wearing a long black trench coat over a black suit, and a dark red shirt with a black tie. The outfit is simple but still makes him look taller, imposing, and -for your deepest pleasure- dangerously attractive.
"Shall we?" The sorcerer says breaking your line of thought. He offers you his arm and you take it.
The intoxicating smell of En's musky cologne invades your senses, and you curse him internally for being such a tease. You both walk in silence to the entrance of his restaurant, enjoying each other's closeness and anxious to see what the night has in store for you.
As usual, En has reserved the entire place just for you and has arranged for only the best dishes to be served, including a wide variety of mushroom recipes. The evening is spent in intellectual conversation, laughter, and subtle flirtation. The sorcerer's fingers stroke your hand now and then, tracing wavy shapes up to the crook of your elbow. You bite your lip seductively, holding his gaze while you let your leg brush his. The atmosphere is charged with the sensuality and magnetism of two people who desire each other with raw lust. Perhaps this sixth date will be the most unforgettable of them all.
More often than not, you find yourself lost in thought; wondering how the sorcerer would look without his mask... without clothes on. How would it feel to kiss him or have his strong hands run across your skin? Is he a gentle lover, or does he prefer it rough? You fantasize about standing up, walking over to him, and holding his gaze as you straddle him. You would not mind if he'd decided to take you here and now...
"Let's go to my place," En suggests, and you have to blink a couple of times to make sure you're not imagining his words.
 "I got a bottle of wine I would like to share with you," He adds. His voice is enchanting and warm, like a deep cello melody.
The look in the sorcerer's eyes tells you that drinking wine isn't the only thing he wants to do with you. Wetness is starting to pool in your panties, and you beg he doesn't keep you waiting any longer, while you press your thighs together.
"I'd love to," you hurry to reply, and the sorcerer smiles pleased.
Without wasting time, the two of you leave the restaurant. The sorcerer's driver is already waiting with the car running and as soon as you both get in he sets off for En's Manor.
For a few minutes, the sorcerer and you barely speak, as if doing so would make time go slower. His hand seeks for yours, and you entwine your fingers with him, smiling as you notice this is the first time you hold hands.
His thumb caresses your hand, and you let out a sigh. Casting a furtive look at him, you notice his chest heaving fast. Maybe because of nervousness or arousal. A quick look at his crotch is enough for you to get your answer. En's already hard member is pressing against the fabric of his pants, begging for release.
Making a bold move, you bring his hand to your thigh, placing its palm against your naked skin. The sorcerer turns to look at you, and you meet his eyes with a needy look. "En..." No more words are needed to let him know what you want because the same thought had been running through his mind for several minutes now.
The sorcerer takes off his coat, covering both of you with it to hinder the driver from catching a glimpse of what's about to happen. His hand then caresses your inner thigh, and you tremble, biting back a whimper.
"Be quiet," En whispers, looking absentmindedly out of the window as he begins to tease your throbbing nub over the fabric of your soaked panties.
The sudden electric sensation makes you gasp and your hand instantly moves over his. The sorcerer chuckles softly at your reaction, without taking his eyes from the street. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes to concentrate on the sweet sensation between your legs. Hopefully, the driver would think you will just take a nap. En's middle finger presses gently against your clit, tracing small circles over it, and waves of pleasure take over your body.
Moving your panties to the side, En teases your entrance, taking time to soak his fingers with your juices before sliding one inside. You breathe sharply to avoid moaning out loud and grab his arm to keep you grounded. Your leg moves over his, giving him more room to play. The sorcerer adds a second finger not long after, and you let out a long and deep sigh.
"Almost there?" En asks a few moments later. The true intention in his tone gets lost when the words reach the driver's ears.
"Yes, sir," The man answers instantly, but you know the question wasn't for him.
"Yes..." Your voice is low enough to reach only En's ears. His fingers rub mercilessly against your g-spot, and the pressure in your lower belly continues to rise.
A sudden bump on the road pushes En's fingers deeper inside you, throwing you over the edge. Your toes curl and you let out a muffled moan disguised as a surprised expression while you surrender to an explosive climax.
En's fingers keep moving, slow and gentle, as your walls clench around them. And you hold to him for dare life while you come down from your high.
Wow. You think to yourself, still having a hard time believing what just happened. The man is full of pleasant surprises, and you're eager to know what else he's got in store for you. His fingers slide out of you, and you cannot help but roll your hips forward, craving more. En chuckles softly, turning to look you in the eye as he discreetly licks his fingers clean. The sight alone makes you dizzy with arousal.
The car pulls up in front of En's imposing house and the sorcerer gets out to hold the door open for you. You had heard that En's mansion was gigantic, but after a look around, you realize that any description falls short of reality. The place is the size of a small city. 
"Come with me, Y/N," En says, placing a hand on the small of your back, making shudder. "There's a bottle of wine waiting for us," He whispers close to your ear, and your mind goes blank.
"Sure," you reply, letting him lead the way.
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theveryworstthing · 4 years ago
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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.
The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.
I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.
Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.
10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.
The Parents
From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.
Or while it was still bleeding.
If she was into that.
Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.
Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.
And he always gets his due.
He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.
Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~
Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.
Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.
This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.
Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?
Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.
Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.
What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.
Mortesha would know.
The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.
Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.
The Children
Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.
Anyway.
Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!
Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.
Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.
I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.
Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.
She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.
Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.
Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  
That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.
Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.
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“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.
But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.
The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”
We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.
It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”
It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.
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(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)
And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.
So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”
That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.
Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.
Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”
By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.
In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”
The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”
In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”
This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)
A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”
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Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.
For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”
Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.
The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.
Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)
As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”
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Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”
All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”
Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”
During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”
While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”
For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”
Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”
So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”
Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.
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Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.
The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”
This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?
Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”
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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago
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Please write one about making fun of Jack for being jealous over the fact that your baby is getting more cuddles from you. Thank youuuuuuu
Mama’s Boys
“He’s just gorgeous,” Karen coos softly, her finger gently brushing over the sweet baby boys little face as he lays snugs swaddled in your arms. Jack re-enters the living room of his beautifully decorated home with his dad and brother in tow. Kiera stifles a laugh as she leans closer to your side and mutters; “How many Grealish men does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” To which your lips stretch wide across your face with her laughter-lit eyes. Karen leans in too, “Hopefully not as many as it takes to fit a car seat.”
Laughter bounces through you, Jack’s mother and his two younger sisters, only fuelled by the the confused looks from each of the Grealish men. The little boy in your arms barely even stirs.
“We’re ready to go whenever you are.” Kevin announces, clapping his hands together in that very true dad fashion that indicates he’s now wanting to get going. If the way he had been trying to hint at being hungry hadn’t already suggested that. Everyone starts to move around fairly soon after that, with Jack’s mother helping you out to the car. Your two week post baby body hadn’t quite healed up yet and she had been the most amazing help you could ever have imagined. Jack was fantastic, but his mother was experienced in looking after kids and she could come over while Jack was working. He had his last game before his Christmas break just three days ago.
You sat in the back of the car, eagle eyes still too soon after birth to want to be away from your brand new baby boy just yet.
“I can’t believe we got a Christmas baby.” You beam as he helps you out the car, one around around your waist while his other hand held tight around the baby carrier as you walk together through his parents front door. It always made Jack nervous to be carrying it in case he dropped his newborn son despite how man times you reassured him he wouldn’t. “I still can’t believe we have a baby.” He admits, his voice the very sound of disbelief. His heart had been so overwhelmed with joy but his work didn’t slow down to allow him to process it, so he was still pretty much in shock that there was another tiny little human who now relied on you both for everything. “And such a perfect baby,” Jack continues as he sets the carrier with your sleeping son down carefully on the floor, “Just like his mama.” He leans in, pressing his lips softly down onto yours, hands reaching around to pull you into his chest-
“Waaaaa!”
You break apart quickly. Jack sighs in discontent with his eyes falling closed as you crouch to scoop your baby boy up into your arms and walk off into the packed Grealish family living room. Jack groans once your out of earshot. He felt like he hasn’t hugged or kissed you in forever when he had been used to getting your affection and giving you his multiple times throughout the day.
Baby boy Grealish was being fed on demand via what Jack had referred to as the “nippular method” that had you physically wetting your pants a little bit. What he meant of course was breast feeding, but the word had failed to find him at that moment. So it would be safe to say there was very little time for he and you to even be holding much of a conversation between last minute Christmas shopping, wrapping and meeting family even though Jack had assured you a million times that his family wouldn’t mind if you just took a break to relax after literally pushing a child out of you. He just wanted a bloody kiss.
He didn’t blame his baby at all, he loved that little boy more than anything he’d ever known. That’s exactly what Jack had been like. More than the world, more than his life itself. and he wasn’t surprised the bald little thing was a mama’s boy. But that did not mean he wasn’t going to pout about the little man getting more of you than he could. Last Christmas had been a day of hot chocolate sitting by the fire, constantly in his arms. This one he’d barely even touched you. That was bad enough for any man, but for Jack who is so physically affectionate and very tactile, it’s borderline painful.
“Are you alright, love?” Karen asks. Jack turns his head to her slowly, seemingly taken carefully from his trance. He was looking straight at the mantle where a picture of you, Jack and your baby boy was sitting pride of place. It was brand new and he loved it. You had the same one in your living room at home. Jack nods, but his sigh gives him away and leads his mother to sit down next to him. “Just want a bloody hug.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders and trying to hide his face for the embarrassment that creeps up his cheeks. Her mother responds to that with a small coo and attempts to wrap her arms around her son immediately, much fo his protest,
“Oi not from you eh? From (y/n)!” He protests, his mothers snot if laughter immediately meeting his ears. “S’ not funny, mum. Babies stole my fiancé.”
That only serves to make her laugh harder, also eliciting a laugh from his brother who immediately tells his eldest sister who sprints off through the house, taunting in a sing at the top of her lungs. Siblings are never too old to taunt each other like that.
“Jack’s jealous of the baby! Jack’s jealous of the baby!”
“Oi. I’m not!” He calls after her in protest, jumping to his feet just as you appear in the doorway with a cheeky glint in your eyes and a smug grin. He knows he can’t lie to you anyway, so he backs down and you giggle. The little boy wide awake now in your arms coos too, immediately attracting his daddies attention. Jack looks at you, standing there in an England Grealish 7 shirt cradling a baby boy who wears the same outfit. His heart is suddenly so, so warm. He hadn’t really been able to see his son like this, so awake and so alert for having been working so hard before the winter break finally allowed him full home time. He was going to be missing every match of January too to stay home with you guys and he couldn’t be more excited.
“You know,” you hum softly, “It would be nice to have a family cuddle, you know?”
Jack’s cheeks tint an ever so slight red, but he barely waits a moment before he wraps his arms around you and the baby, careful not to squish him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently.
“If it makes you feel any better son,” his dad cuts in with a clap on his back, “Our Christmas gift to you is a spa weekend and a coupon for granny-day-care.” And it very much does make Jack feel a bit better. With time, he’s surer than anything that you’ll work the intimacy and time for each other out. It’s a work in progress, a learn on the job kind of experience and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
And really, neither would you for later that evening when you’re back at your beautiful little home and Jack is the one to clamber out of bed in the middle of the night to change and put his baby boy back down to bed, you find yourself listening to him speak to that sweet little boy through the baby monitor he left on. He’s talking about how sweet he is, how much his mummy and daddy love him and how stinky he is right now but daddy wouldn’t change him for the world. And then he trails off his silly baby voice that already makes you want another.
“You’re a mama’s boy though, aren’t you stinky man?” He coos, careful with his hands fastening those tiny little buttons on the front of a blue baby grow. He picks up the two week old and holds him carefully as he always does. “But daddy can’t blame you, bubba. Daddy loves your mama so, so much. It’s something we’ll always have in common eh? We’re both your mama’s boys.”
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