#not referring to quality don't worry

[a-very-cute-snake]

Based off incredibly vague vibes... DND podcasts I've watched alignment chart

[dnangelic]

smth that's good to remember about dark is that he's doomed. he'll never get what he wants. he can never get what he wants. he's allowed to 'dream' (to desire) but not to 'wish' (to attempt to fulfill those desires.) the other thing that's good to remember is that he's already redeemed. dark will never be able to have his own body or to love who he wants to love. he'll never have the true freedom and individuality that he craves above almost all else. he, as he is, can never be or become a proper human being- as a live artwork, he too is just a 'thing,' a hollow vessel for human emotions. alone and by himself, he's unfeeling and inanimate, no matter how otherwise convincing, no matter how beautiful. all of his 'feelings' are like single droplets in a dry well that evaporate in an instant. dark has no true heart, because he's an artwork. he has no humanity, no great amount of emotion alone that he himself can muster up or express. if he has anything inside of him then it's that very nothingness; an empty cathedral made up of restless, dissatisfied desire; a somber, passive longing to juxtapose krad's obsessive behavior. it's thus only with a tamer, or daisuke, that dark truly becomes someone. more than just a ghost, a phantom beneath the floorboards. the point is, despite daisuke's own terror of those around him rejecting him as worthless and unnecessary in comparison to dark, dark will always need daisuke. not just want, but quite literally need; 'to dark, i am a necessity.' dark doesn't admit it and very likely never will but he's already saved and endlessly comforted by daisuke's presence. there's the part of him that rejects others' comforts and attempts to reach out because of his own understandings over himself (he's doomed, he's already used to being avoidant and subtly excising himself,) but also the part that decides he just doesn't need any of it because he always has daisuke with him --- he's redeemed. he has someone to rely on and to always trust and to be proud of as his 'other self.' dark will never say it (both out of pride and guilt) but he'll always, always admire daisuke for the strength of the boy's emotions and the stubborn goodness of his heart.

[paper-mario-wiki]

what if you were isekai'd into an RPG fantasy world but you specifically reincarnated into an unbelievably powerful legendary sword and the first person to wield you was a child slave catgirl who used you (a legendary sword) to murder her slavers, and the story does not follow your journey to becoming a hero, but rather your newly adopted daughter's journey to becoming a slave liberating (and slaver murdering) hero as you support her as her adopted parent?

well that's Reincarnated As A Sword, and it's real good.

and there's no "she's my daughter but she's in love with me and wants to marry me" bullshit, she sees the protag (her cool sword dad) as a role model and a coach. and it's great.

if you're the type who gets sold on a show after being shown a clip, here's a good one under the cut. it's from episode 8, but there's no arc-specific spoilers. it's the establishing "i know what i must do" scene that sets up the rest of the story (the murdering slavers thing). but also it's sorta gruesome (in a fucking sick way), so fair warning.

[translation note cuz the subs are kinda low quality: her chosen name for her sword, "Shishou", is a title for someone who's seen as a venerated teacher. the word used to translate this into english is "Master", which might make you tilt your head a little bit considering the crux of the show is that she's a liberated slave. however, in this context the english word that refers to someone who owns another person is the same word that is used to refer to someone who has mastered a craft, because in english the nuance is implicative of someone dominating something. in japanese, there's no allusion in her using the word "shishou" to mean that he is her slave master, so don't worry about that being a dynamic the show pushes.]

[quinloki]

FuckNoWriMo

Here's my official Writing Challenge Post for anyone who wants to play along.

FuckNoWriMo will be held December 2024 for this year only, and will be held in March from 2025 on. Due to the terminology being used, this is probably an 18+ event, but I swore like a sailor at 12, and it's not like I can stop you from participating.

How to Participate:

Decide you want to write during the month of the event.

Write.

Bonus!

3. Post and share that you're writing, and what you're writing if you want \o/ 4. Tag your posts with #fnowrimo or #fucknowrimo

Want more structure? Certainly, allow me.

Pick one of the categories to run with and set that as your goal for the month:

A Word, if I May?: Write at least 31 words for the month.

Get That Shit Outlined: Write at least 1,000 words for the month. (33 words a day)

Give it the Gusto!: Write at least 5,000 words for the month. (162 words a day)

Hell Yeah, Write!: Write at least 10,000 words for the month. (323 words a day)

Words At Work: Write at least 20,000 words for the month. (646 words a day)

Punctuated: Write at least 35,000 words for the month. (1,130 words a day.)

Fuck It: Write at least 50,000 words for the month. (1,613 words a day)

Crazy 88 (it's a Kill Bill reference): Write at least 100,000 words for the month. (3,225 words a day)

Please note you may write anything:

An outline, several outlines, rough draft(s), poetry, journaling, lyrics, role-play with your friends, a campaign idea for a table top game, the script for a movie, show, visual novel, etc., notes to defend your dissertation, recipes, to-do lists - you get the point.

If you want to breakdown the granular concepts of an old historic text on index cards for shits and giggles, that counts too!

The event is less about the quality of the end result, and more about creating a habit to write daily. If you don't want to spend a lot of time fixing and editing a harried rough draft, then don't worry about the word count at all.

0 is a valid word count for the day. So is 1, or 10, or 100 or all those little numbers we often get discouraged seeing.

But set aside some time during the month, and write some fucking words, hell, write some words fucking. A real alphabet orgy. Be silly, weird, cringe, strange, gross, problematic, thematic - whatever \o/

Just write it yourself. I don't care if you dictate it, use the hunt and peck method, a pen, pencil, quill, or chisel.

But for the love of all that's holy -

No Generative AI

That's the only rule.

[daistea]

Thank you for the food the fic was so nice! Your latest Mithrun fic made me think of the scenario more. Imagine Kabru, someone aware of elven culture, heard of us doing this the first time we did it from a friend who overheard it. He tries to find us to worn and educate just to find out it was too late and defeatedly explain to the other elves that tallman don't have that culture just to clear us. Aftermath of it is so hilarious. Also an alternative scenario for this setting I can think of is a random elf accepting our offer, or just someone who doesn't know about Mithrun feelings towards us, like Flamela and just exploit us and Mithrun later learning about it.

I love this prompt so much, thank u

2500 words!

tw mild nsfw implications

Mithrun x Tall-man reader

sequel to this

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Kabru scoffed at the notion that secrets and rumors were like feathers on the wind, uncatchable. He was great at catching feathers. He used them to stuff his pillow which he slept so soundly on at night. Rumors were wild dogs, but he had a leash and collar. He’d tamed beasts with bigger teeth. 

(That was, of course, a metaphor, as Kabru could not literally handle things with big teeth, as exemplified from his time in the dungeon.)

A particular sort of secret reached his ears in the empty hallway of the castle. It was the kind of secret that raised hairs and inspired mortification, which were the best kind. Usually. 

“Yeah, they asked to touch my ears,” Pattadol’s muffled voice was strained, tinged with embarrassment that Kabru could detect even through the door. 

“Mine too,” Flamela drawled. A pause followed her words, then she continued, “Pervert.”

The two elves then moved onto a different subject consisting of Pattadol’s worries for diplomacy and Flamela’s dismissals of such worries. Kabru listened for a moment more before silently moving away. He stalked down the hallway with dark clouds rolling in within his mind. 

You had asked Pattadol and Flamela if you could touch their ears. 

Kabru put his hand to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. He leaned against the wall, beneath a portrait of some old ruler from thousands of years ago. There was still so much dust in the castle, but the thickness in his chest wasn’t from allergies. You were his friend, and so innocent, so curious. You couldn’t have known the implications of touching an elf’s ear. 

He had to speak to you immediately. 

--

“Yeah, I figured that out.” 

Kabru forced a smile and tilted his head. He was aware of how wide his eyes were, how he probably wasn’t doing a good job at hiding his shock and horror. He couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment as he watched you casually take a sip of your tea. 

“You figured it out?” He asked. Kabru wasn’t sure whether to be mortified or proud. 

“Oh yeah,” you slowly nodded as a triumphant smile rolled across your lips. When you opened your eyes to return his gaze, there was a spark within them that did not bode well. “I figured a lot of things out, actually.”

He took a moment to study your expression. The half-lidded quality of your eyes, the slight pink upon your cheek, the tilt of your chin; realization hit him like one of Marcille’s explosion spells. 

“You got laid.”

You nodded proudly, “I got laid.”

“...Mithrun?”

“Yeah,” there was triumph in your voice.

Kabru tried his best to control his irritation. You were so casual about it, he could’ve throttled you. How unromantic, asking the man who was entirely too smitten with you: ‘can I touch one of the most sensitive parts of your body?’ And the audacity, the horror, of that actually working. 

It was personally offensive to Kabru. He’d spent years building up his talent for wordplay and charm. Then, here you are, harassing poor elves. And what are the consequences of your curiosity and ignorance? Hot sex and a beautiful elf boyfriend. 

Unfair. 

There were other consequences, though. The thought of Flamela referring to you as a pervert was enough to cool the boiling in his blood. 

“Okay, I’m going to help you,” he sent you a smile.

“I don’t think we need help,” you grimaced, “we both know what to do. But thanks.”

“I– I don’t mean with Mithrun. I mean in general. I’ll help you recover your reputation with the elves of Melini.”

You tilted your head, “My reputation? What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard Flamela call you a pervert earlier.”

“Oh,” taken aback, you sat up straight in your chair, hands tightening around your mug, “Honestly, I forgot I even asked Flamela.”

The feeling in Kabru’s chest could only be described as the slow decay of his soul. “Well, she remembers quite well.”

Another grimace, “Oops. It’s no big deal, though, I’m sure they all understand that I just didn’t know the implications of it.”

Your optimism was so cute. 

“I’ll take care of it,” he took your hand and smiled, “don’t you worry.”

--

Kabru was used to elves. He’d grown up in the Northern Central Continent where elves were the dominant percentage of the population. Even in Utaya, elven culture strongly influenced daily life, architecture, and manners. His own adoptive mother was an elf. 

Still, his experience did not negate the particular brand of nervousness that came from having nearly ten elves staring at him. 

There was the first squad of the Canaries, Flamela– who was only visiting for the week– Fionil, and Marcille. All of them were absurdly pretty, confused, and pinning him to the wall with their unsettling stares. Flamela and Mithrun, at least, had the decency to look irritated at the interruption to their day. 

Kabru forced his lead tongue to work, “Alright. You’re all probably wondering why I’ve called this meeting. First of all, let’s start with this: Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by [name]’s curiosity concerning your ears.”

Everybody besides Fionil and Marcille raised their hands. 

“Okay,” Kabru sent the two half elves a reassuring smile, “you two are free to go. Thanks for coming.”

“Are my ears not good enough?” Marcille muttered as she and Fionil left the empty noodle shop. 

Mithrun had very generously given Kabru permission to hold the meeting in his noodle shop before the dinner rush. It was of humble size, but clean and quiet with the smooth scent of broth clinging to the walls and chairs. Kabru had a feeling that Mithrun only lent him the space out of curiosity after he’d mentioned that the meeting had to do with you, his partner. 

Silent anticipation settled over the small group. Most of them were taut, seconds away from leaving if he said the wrong thing.

Kabru cleared his throat, “Alright. So, I just want to settle something. [Name] is not a pervert.”

There were those eyes again. They were like six lances ripping through his skin and affixing him to the wall. 

“What?” Otta asked. 

“They’re not a pervert,” he repeated as he raised his hands, “they’re just really curious and didn’t know any better. So, please, don’t judge them too harshly.”

Another beat of silence followed the plea. His gaze shifted to Mithrun, who was watching him carefully with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs stretched out in front of him. As their eyes met, Mithrun simply held the gaze, his face as blank as fresh parchment. 

Kabru set aside the building urge to dissect Mithrun’s brain and instead focused on the rest of the group. “They really didn’t know any better,” he continued despite the rising murmurs among the group, “please forgive them. Tall-man culture is a lot different from yours.”

That seemed to please the elves. Collective negativity was always far more satisfying, he knew.

“Savages,” Cithis huffed.

“Idiots,” Flamela agreed.

Otta had the decency to argue, “They’re just innocent and ignorant. And it’s not like elven society openly discusses those kinds of things.”

True. Elven culture was confusing. Wearing revealing clothes and showing a lot of skin was normal for them, nothing to give a second glance to, though the subject of sex and arousal was deemed inappropriate. One was expected to maintain their dignity, wear a mask depicting perfection, and bring honor to their family. The nobility were commonly quite repressed, though commoners had a tendency to loosen their tongues among friends. Still, sexual education was not taught well, or often, despite their dwindling population. It seemed a bit counterproductive to Kabru, but he understood their reasoning and how centuries of superiority complexes brought them to that point. 

“Did nobody actually tell them what it meant?” Pattadol asked. 

Lycion sent her a raised brow, “Did you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“I did,” Mithrun interrupted. Every eye went to him, though he kept his gaze straight ahead and his arms crossed. He let a moment of silence pass before he continued, “They won’t be asking to touch anybody’s ears again.”

Flamela made a face, “So, did they touch your ears?”

“Yeah.”

He said it so casually, unbothered by the surprise and amusement of the other Canaries. Fleki leaned forward to clap a hand on his shoulder, which earned a little frown from him. 

“Did you get laid, Captain?” Fleki asked, her grin toothy and stinking of mischief. 

“Yeah.”

“I don’t need to know that!” Pattadol screeched, “You don’t have to answer every question honestly, you know! You’re allowed to keep secrets!”

“I know,” Mithrun shrugged.

He just didn’t want to keep that particular secret, Kabru knew. Mithrun would much rather that everybody recognize his stake, his claim, his flag buried at the top of the mountain he’d just climbed. It was easier that way. 

Flamela, though, was Flamela. 

She stood up, her fists clenched. “I’ve got things to do. I can’t waste time with you guys anymore.”

The first squad ignored her departure and instead started asking Mithrun a myriad of invasive questions, much to Pattadol’s distress. Yet, Kabru kept his gaze on Flamela. There was a spark in her eyes, one he recognized. It betrayed her intentions. As one of Mithrun’s closest friends and certified nosy-guy, he couldn’t help but subtly follow her out and into the street. 

“Excuse me,” he said once the door shut behind him. A few feet away, Flamela stopped mid-step and whirled around with a glare. 

“What?” She hissed.

“You’re going to do something you’ll regret, aren’t you?” Kabru sent her a look he hoped she’d recognize as concern. It was definitely concern, because anybody that planned to mess with you deserved that. 

“I won’t regret it,” Flamela rolled her eyes, “I just… don’t understand why [name] would want to touch the Captain’s ears and not mine. Mine are longer and softer.”

“Are you really offended over this? Didn’t you tell them no already?”

“I’ve changed my mind!” She snapped. 

“Are you just trying to get back at Mithrun for charging you full price for a bowl of noodles?”

She froze. Her mouth was open, shaped in a scowl. Her shoulders rose like the hackles of a cat. Despite the flicker of satisfaction that Kabru felt at having hit the mark, the hair on his arms stood to attention. He was seconds away from being tackled. 

Fortunately, he side-stepped right as Flamela attacked. 

Now on all fours on the dirt street, Flamela glared at him over her shoulder, “He should’ve given me a discount!”

“He isn’t obliged to.”

“He is!” She stood up and dusted off her uniform, “[Name] should want to feel my ears, they’re better.”

Kabru put his hands on his hips, “You’re just being competitive.”

“Shut up,” she hissed before brushing past him and stomping down the street.

Kabru glanced to the left just in time to see a glimpse of dark eyes staring out through a crack in the blinds. Judging by their black color and uneven manner, it was obviously Mithrun peeking at his conversation with Flamela. He made eye contact with the captain for a second before Mithrun narrowed his gaze dangerously and let go of the blinds. They snapped back into place, but Kabru couldn’t quite return to his natural state like that, not with the black-eyed storm brewing. 

--

Flamela found you on the street. It wasn’t the best place for ear-rubbing, but her mind was on one track and she ardently refused to veer. 

“I’ve reconsidered,” she said. There was no greeting or smile or easing in of the conversation. 

You stopped mid-step and stared at her. “...Reconsidered what?”

“About you touching my ears.”

Did you ask to touch her ears? The memory wasn’t popping up for you. Yet, now that you knew what that actually meant to elves, you felt appropriately horrified by the statement. You were on a crowded street. If any passersby had a clue as to what Flamela said, they showed no indication. The elf population in Melini was small. The implications of ear touching most likely flew over their heads as it once did for you. 

You managed a smile that you hoped was polite, that you hoped didn’t betray your embarrassment. “That’s okay, thanks.”

Flamela narrowed her eyes, “Why not? My ears are softer and longer than Mithrun’s. If you’re going to touch an elf’s ears, I would think you’d want the full experience.”

“I, uh, I got a pretty full experience with Mithrun. But thanks,” you offered another smile. Something about the way Flamela frowned hinted at deeper motives. You just had to ask, “Is this because Mithrun didn’t give you a discount on a bowl of noodles?”

She scoffed, “No!”

It was definitely about that. 

As you prepared an explanation of your loyalties to Mithrun and his decision to not give her a discount, a flicker of mana filled the air, pricking at your skin. You knew that particular brand of magic. Your heart dropped into your stomach as the spot behind Flamela shifted like the surface of disturbed water. Half a second later, Mithrun appeared. 

You felt yourself tense. Flamela was on a rant about discounts. Mithrun’s gaze was calm, too calm, dangerously calm. The only sign of his anger was the feral look in his good eye. In the past, Mithrun wouldn’t have cared about Flamela offering her ears to random tall-men. He would have resisted any urges to teleport her into walls simply because it would get him kicked out of the Canaries. But the demon was gone, his purposes for living were different. You were one of those purposes, one of those desires, and he was so one track minded that he would do anything to hang onto that. 

He raised a hand. Flamela tensed as if sensing the danger. Nearby, Kabru pushed through the crowd, panicked. 

“No!” You lunged at your partner before he could teleport the Vice-Captain to a place where she’d never get noodles again, let alone discounted ones. 

Your body weight crashed onto him. His eye widened and Kabru gasped. Like a felled tree, you and Mithrun both fell to the ground. Flamela said something you didn’t quite comprehend, but it didn’t matter at the moment. 

You laid on Mithrun. He laid on the ground. He put one hand on your back and chose to stare at the blue sky above rather than fight your will. The passersby sent the scene curious glances but wisely stayed away, giving you and Mithrun a wide berth.

A shadow cast over your bodies and you looked up to see Flamela blocking the sun. She only glared, hands on her hips. 

“I want a discount,” she said.

You felt Mithrun grunt beneath you. Another beat of silence passed before he answered, “Fine. Just stay away from [name].”

“Deal.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[luvh4nji]

𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙 + 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐒/𝐎

warning: general drunkenness, reader is referred to as "girl" in san's

seonghwa ; he's so unbelievably soft for you. something about having his pretty baby so in love with him, hanging off his arm and pressing your side impossibly closer to his, even when you're not completely yourself, makes his heart swell in his chest, his stomach doing somersaults.

"be careful, love." he chastises you gently, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side, thumb rubbing little circles on the skin of your shoulder. "don't want you getting into trouble, yeah?" and you just swoon over him, turning in his hold so your arms snaking around his own shoulders, nuzzling into his chest. and you're too hazy to notice the soft look in his eyes and the soft blush that covers his cheeks.

hongjoong ; he seems like the type to be a little insecure in a relationship. he's so busy, he porbably doesn't feel like he gives you enough attention and it gets him down a little bit. the question of what if you find someone who treats you better? always sits in the back of his mind. but when you get all clingy and sweet with him when you get a little drunk at the studio, his worries almost seem to dissipate.

"and those are the reasons why..." you start, cutting yourself off with a hiccup, resting your head against his chest from your spot in his lap. "those are the reasons why i love you." you finish, smiling to yourself in your drunken daze. "ah, okay, i see. " he indulges, nodding and smiling down at the mess you are in his lap. he hears something that sounds like a muffled "you better" coming from you, feeling the vibrations of your voice as he runs his fingers down your back.

yunho ; he would think you're the cutest thing he's ever seen <3 he's truly the type to be completely entranced by his partner and to see you have that same reverence for him? it just makes him so, so happy. he's the type to have you close to him all night, sitting in the booth of the bar wiht his arm slung around your shoulders while you lean against him, ead on his chest, hand lifted to hold his, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

"you feeling okay, baby?" he asks, noticing how quiet you'd gotten. and you'd just nod against his chest, sniffing a little bit from the drinks, mumbling that you're fine and that you just want to look at him, blinking slowly as you explain yourself. and he gets so red, smiling brightly and keeping you close to his chest proudly while the rest of the guys at the booth tease you relentlessly.

yeosang ; he gets so shy and flusterd, poor guy :( he's not a very touchy person, generally speaking, so when you go to him, laying your head in his lap where he was sitting on the couch in your apartment, once the sleepy affect of the beverage has sunken in, gazing up at him with big, lovestruck eyes, he can't help the soft pink that colors the shells of his ears.

"are you okay, y/n?" he asks, voice low, with that shy quality to it, as you look up at him, your hand reaching to cup his face, fingers tracing his birthmark delicately. "better than okay, sangie." you grin, running a thumb over the crest of his cheekbone. "i got so lucky-- to have someone to beautiful." you hiccup through your words, making him look up and away from your reverent expression, biting the inside of his cheek to hold in a smile.

san ; loves it. adores it even. you already knows he's absolutely a clingy drunk and he loves that you are too because it just proves to him how perfect you are for each other. he's the type to believe in soulmates and this is his sign. he just loves how you look at up at him, blinking slowly, and grabbing his hands, pressing little kisses to his knuckles and telling him how how handsome he is.

"yeah, honey? i'm the prettiest boy you've ever seen?" he asks, half-teasing, but you just nod in agreement, movements slow and lazy due to the alcohol flowing through your system. "i'm glad you think that." he says through a soft smile, reaching to ruffle your hair from you're leaning against his chest. "cause you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen. makes us a perfect match, doesn't it?"

mingi ; adores you when you get clingy. he's absolutely the type to revel in your physical nature. he loves how you excited you get to see him when he comes to pick you up from the bar after your friends had called him, asking for his assistance in getting you home. he loves how you run up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, telling him how much you missed these past few hours that you'd been out.

"missed me?" he asks, only half-teasing, laughing to himself when you nod against his chest, mussing your hair in the process. "i missed you, too, honey." he grins, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "now lets get you home, yeah?" and he smiles to himself at how you cling onto his arm, grip vice-like in the car.

wooyoung ; he doesn't seem like the type to let himself be soft often. he feels like he has to be funny or flirty or abrasive at all times, but all those walls come down when he's around you, especially when your uninhibited and he knows you need his help. his voice gets so soft, touch gentle as he lets you wrap yourself around him, nuzzling into his chest, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin there.

"okay, baby," he starts when your body goes nearly limp against his. "you think it's time to go home?" and you just shake your head, hair mussing against him, before raising your gaze to meet his and mumbling something about how you'd go wherever he wanted you to. and he'd just laugh, soft and warm, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you out of the bar. "alright, alright. let's get you home, lovey.

jongho ; although he doesn't necessarily seem like the clingiest person himself, he does seem like the type to enjoy having a clingy partner. it has something to do with him liking to be needed. it makes his chest puff up in pride and his eyes shine when you latch onto him. especially when you're all hazy and uninhibited, letting him take care of you.

"oh, really?" he grins pulling you close to him as you grapple onto his strong arms as you mumble something about how strong he is and how you adore him and everything he does for you. "you need me that much?" he asks, tone almost condescending if it wasn't him, and if you weren't inebriated. he shifts his grip around you as you nod againist his arm, staring up at him with big, sparkly eyes. the image of you so adoring of him makes his heart swell in his chest, biting his lip and trying to swallow his smile.

[6okuto]

KENMA RELATIONSHIP HCS

gn!reader, timeskip mentions

isn't a pda guy, but will fall asleep on your shoulder/rest against you as he games, and if you play with his hair, who's he to say no?

if you change your contact name in his phone, he keeps whatever it is, even if it's super silly or cheesy. like okay call "my honeybear darling angel 😚". he says it's because he's lazy but he does find it kinda cute/amusing

you cheer for kenma at practice in like, a sort of exaggerated way, like "gooo kenma!!! yeaahh!! let's go kenma!! kenma! kenma!" and he tries really hard not to look at you—not because he's annoyed, but because he doesn't want you to notice how red his face has gotten. his teammates point it out anyway

lol his team using you as motivation. "don't you want to impress them?" and kenma's like 😒😒 but gets up from the floor

kenma teaching you how to play his favourite (co-op) video games!! he's pretty patient and explains things well, so if you don't have a lot of gaming experience, don't worry too much ^^ buttt if you're competitive, get ready to Compete. he seems like someone who doesn't take it too seriously unless you start (jokingly) shit talking him

he'll try out any games you like too, even if it isn't something he'd pick himself. he doesn't really plan to when you're describing it, but then he thinks about it, or sees a post mentioning it, and the curiosity (And Affection 4 U :3) gets him

easily notices if you've gotten quieter/tired when you're out. if you're with a group, he'll tap your shoulder and offer his own, ask if you're alright, and or make up an excuse so you can both leave. if it's just the two of you, he's quick to find a place to rest for a while

he'll never make you join if you don't want to, but fans eat up any videos or streams with you—they make edits and compilations of you walking in during streams and everything. the amount of begging for a q&a and story time of how you met is crazydsjdhsj

chat is soo annoying about it too /lh "no they're not single," "i know they're out of my league," "yes they were my first subscriber," kenma telling you not to answer them when they ask if he's clingy, etc etc

! i think it'd be cute if you guys had matching phone cases, but his fans didn't know until you showed up with the other one. and they realize Just how much he has on that's matching you—the bracelet and necklace that they catch glimpses of under his hoodie, the hoodie itself from the same line as yours... yeah.

time for "he said no pickles." unless you also don't like asking/don't care,, then you guys can just take the pickles off together <3

^ if it's a serious mistake they made with your food, kenma's a lot more compelled to approach the counter.

would teach you about stocks. if you asked

mutual info dumping and yapping... he's very aware of how much he's telling you the first couple of times, but gets more comfortable when you do it back !

^ kind of guy to do his own research afterward. he makes a semi-obscure reference/joke the day after and you're like ???? Who told you that.

kind of boyfriend who hears you go "i want him" "wait why's this character kinda..." and isn't like, that offended or put off by it. says "understandable" (or questions your taste), but knows they're a character at the end of the day

quality time kind of guy. people know you're special even if they don't know you're dating because you can convince kenma to go to events or try something new when they wouldn't expect it. (obviously it's never something crazy out of his comfort zone, and it's probably because he knows you'd feel better with someone with you, but he's going all the same!!)

kenma isn't the best with receiving words of affirmation or gifts... he appreciates it, but gets awkward and doesn't know how to react ^^; you reassure him that he doesn't have to jump for joy or be super affectionate back—he shows his love in his own ways !

his gifts are very thoughtful. he gets you something practical, and then things that you've really wanted for a while. his cards aren't filled with long letters of adoration, but they're genuine and very much kenma. (+ having money in the timeskip doesn't mean he'd ever buy something expensive or flashy just because it might be 'easier.' it means he gets to buy you way more merchandise for your favourite media, paying the shipping fees that kept you away.)

you get him a super thoughtful (and maybe expensive) gift and he Lights Up. and then he's like ? you remembered / really paid that much ? really ? and he keeps smiling when he looks at it..

kenma coming downstairs with super bad bedhead and pouting when you snicker. but then he relaxes as you comb your fingers through to fix it

tying up his hair... a little ponytail or bun...

matching pajamas... or those fluffy headbands you wear to wash your face... he looks so silly and cute

university student kenma who walks in visibly irritated, and you know you're about to shit talk his group members or professor together.

late night breakfast. sitting in the kitchen eating bowls of cereal past midnight

! late night gaming sessions... and or sometimes you fall asleep waiting for kenma to finish, then wake up to realize he fell asleep at his desk. you have to coax him into bed after saving the game for him

very nervous during the first year you're together any time there's a holiday, especially valentine's day or your anniversary. he wonders if his plans and gifts are enough, not romantic enough, too boring, if you'd rather do something exciting, even if logically he knows you'll like anything he thinks up

sometimes you guys will just lie on the floor, stare at the ceiling together, and talk. maybe there's music, a game menu screen playing in the background, or you're just listening to the birds and neighbours outside. floor time is healing all the same

bleaching kenma's hair + him helping dye yours... timeskip where chat asks if you've done your hair recently because his hands have been stained :')

it's super easy to team up with kuroo to tease him but also ! teaming up to taunt and prank kuroo !! think of kenma laughing bright and loudly, eyes squinting and arms clutching his middle !! kuroo can't be that mad because he's happy someone else can get kenma this happy too

🏷️ | @icekitgeorge3 @dira333 (hey guys) @pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv-rose @ur-local-simp @respitable @deepenthevoid

[sillysiluriforme]

How do you go about making your designs like what your inspiration for them if I may ask?

OH !! That's such a fun question, thanks for asking ! my process is pretty simple. i start by looking at the original design and deciding what i like and what i don't

then i look for references !

and more references

then i start sketching a bunch of shitty designs without caring about the quality

once i have an idea i like i start asking for thoughts from my friends

then the last step !

im very pro-changing your designs a little over time as you figure out what details work and what doesn't and you do that by drawing the design over and over (if youre just gonna do illustrations you dont have to worry about that)

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[obeymestory]

I don't know if you do these, but could you make a scenario of the demon brothers taking care of MC while they're pregnant with their kid?

Of course!! I was kinda waiting for someone to ask me to do one of those things. <3

Warning!!: Slight mature mentions!! Hope you enjoy this though my dear lambs.

✒ Lucifer 🖋

Would be shocked at the first mention of you being pregnant, asking you to take a test to confirm the pregnancy if you hadn't already, then putting his hand on your belly and feeling a huge sense of admiration towards you for carrying his child, as well as a huge sense of responsibility.

Would do his best to make sure you're always comfortable.

Would help you downstairs even when you're just a few weeks along.

Would probably have you near his desk on something comfortable while he does his paperwork so he could be there immediately if your water were to break.

Would think your food cravings were strange but would fetch the food for you immediately.

Always pick things up for you, even if you just dropped something.

Probably be more stressed in the delivery room than you were because of him wanting everything to go smoothly, and because he's worried about you and your guys' baby. "What's taking the doctor so long?" (Referring to the doctor being late, you're the highest priority to him.)

Have Barbatos make you tea every night to help you relax, especially when you start having contractions.

Would rest his hand gently on your belly while you're napping near him, happy to be the father of a new soul.

Probably wouldn't have coitus with you until he knew it was alright, and even then he would make sure to be gentle, resting his hand on your belly while he pleased you, mainly only focusing on your satisfaction.

Be more focused on you to the point where Diavolo or his brothers would have to do some of his paperwork while he took care of you.

When the baby kicks he immediately rests his head gently on your belly, having a small smile on his face as he remembered that he helped make such a lovely being. "I can't wait to meet you."

💰 Mammon 💸

Would think that you were messing with him at first upon telling him about your pregnancy with his child.

Always wanting you not to be too active and to constantly be comfortable.

Would instantly fetch your cravings and not question them.

Would rest his hand on your belly and rub it every now and then when you both were spending quality time together, especially when watching movies.

Would talk to your belly like the baby was able to listen, mostly complaining about how the baby was making you feel during pregnancy. "Why ya' always gotta make yer' mommy throw up, huh? She's doing all this work for ya', so ya' better be a good kid when ya' come out."

Would freak out as soon as you said your water broke, rushing to get you the care and doctors you needed.

Would probably try stacking poker chips on your belly, considering it both quality time for you and your guys' baby.

Would worry about you during contractions, pouting the whole time and asking if he could do something to ease the pain.

If you were to suggest coitus to him, he would accept immediately, then process what you said and ask if it's okay to do while you're pregnant. He'd be rough or gentle for you as long as you and the baby were safe. "Yes! ...Wait- is dat' okay for us to do?"

Would constantly ask if you were okay, and if you weren't he'd comfort you to the best of his abilities.

When having hot and cold flashes he'd probably fan you with a wad of cash or wrap his arms around you to warm you up.

🪼 Leviathan 🍡

Would think that you're pranking him at first as you said that you were pregnant with his baby, then once you confirmed that it wasn't a prank he'd tear up and hug you happily. "Not funny Y/N... you shouldn't joke like that... w-wait... r-really? I'm gonna be a daddy? *sniffles happily*"

Would cuddle you constantly and hum anime intros as he rubbed your belly, picturing showing your guys' baby a bunch of anime as soon as they were born.

If you were to suggest coitus he would be extremely hesitant to agree, and he would only finger you or eat you out.

Would turn on your favorite anime while you were having mood swings.

Would not know what you meant when you said; "my water broke" and would gasp and instantly call out for his brothers to help you as he made you all comfortable. "Hmm..? Your water broke? What does that mean? O-oh... OH!! The baby's coming!! GUYS- THE BABY'S COMING!!!!-"

Would caress your belly as you had contractions, giving you a worried expression.

Would probably suggest names for the baby first, and the names would be based on anime characters you like, not what characters he liked, what characters YOU like.

Would let you play video games when you had more severe mood swings, like extreme anger.

If it came to it, he wouldn't be mad if you ended up accidentally throwing up in his tub-like bed, he'd clean it up and start putting a little trash bag near you so it wouldn't happen again.

Would buy you a whole new bed so you weren't uncomfortable laying in his tub-like bed.

Would gasp as he saw the baby kick, asking if that hurt you or made you uncomfortable.

📚 Satan 🐈‍⬛

Would blink as you told him you were pregnant with his child, he would promptly close his book and blush deeply, still taking a full minute to process what you just said then get up and pull you into a tight yet careful hug. "You have no idea how happy I am."

Would read a bunch of books on human pregnancy, wanting to know how to take care of you during the next nine months.

Would have a good idea on how parenting goes, but would still check out a bunch of books from the library about parenting just in case there was something he didn't know.

Would read you a bedtime story every night, keeping one of his hands on your belly as he read from his book.

If you were to suggest coitus he would agree, having learned that it's beneficial during childbirth, and wanting to satisfy your needs as much as possible, being gentle and sensual the entire time.

Would pick everything up that you were to drop, hold the door open for you, and help you down the stairs without hesitation.

Would suggest healthier foods if you were to ask him to go get certain things you were craving, but would abide by your wishes.

Would already be prepared for you to throw up, keeping a trashcan nearby you at all times.

Would make sure you're laying on your left side whenever you would take a nap or go to bed.

Would put both of his hands on your belly as the baby kicked, being extremely happy, especially if the baby would constantly move, knowing that it meant the baby was healthy. He did feel bad that you were uncomfortable every time the baby moved though.

Would have you in the royal medical room as you reached your last month of pregnancy, wanting to be entirely prepared, and remaining beside you no matter what, even if you were to say that you were fine and he could go do his usual things. "No. I'm not leaving you both whatsoever."

Since he was a straight A student he could just skip school to take care of you.

💄 Asmodeus 💅

Would gasp and widen his eyes, covering his mouth at the revelation of your pregnancy, squeaking happily and kissing you lovingly, immediately suggesting name planning. "Oh my goodness!! We need to start thinking of names!!~"

Would agree to coitus, but would be gentle, he'd also do it as many times as you wanted.

Would massage you every night, especially your breasts since he knew they were producing milk and were gonna be sore soon.

Would wash you in the bath and take care of all your self care needs.

Would hold your hair back carefully as you threw up.

Would shower you with compliments, especially when your belly starts growing in, knowing you might be insecure about yourself due to your body changing but saying that he loved you no matter what. "Oh hon. You're gorgeous... especially your skin. It's so radiant and youthful, I'm so jealous~"

Would whisper sweet nothings and comfort you as you cried or had mood swings.

Would design a HUGE baby shower for you both.

Would paint his and your nails to the color the gender was revealed to be.

Would record a video of the baby kicking, happy tears welling up in his eyes as he replayed the video over and over, asking for your permission to post it on Devilgram.

Would kiss all over your belly and murmur a soft "I love you~" to your belly every night before murmuring the same thing in your ear.

Would help you to the hospital gently and carefully, holding your hand all through labor and giving you little whispers of encouragement the entire time.

💪 Beelzebub 🍔

Would take a whole six minutes to process you telling him that he made you pregnant. "Wait-....Really? We're having a baby?"

Would carry you everywhere and anywhere, no questions asked. The bathroom, downstairs, the kitchen, the delivery room, etc!! (He'd even wake up to help you to the bathroom.)

Would not mind your food cravings, but he's making you eat a bunch of healthy stuff afterwards if your food craving wasn't healthy.

Would watch your belly with sparkles in his eyes as the baby kicked, putting both of his hands on your belly. (It's like that gaze he gives whenever he sees food.)

Would love to go out and buy baby stuff with you, especially baby clothes.

Would place a piece of his meal on your belly, calling it; "Feeding the baby."

If you were to ask to have coitus during your pregnancy, he'd put his hand on your belly and get worried about the baby, needing you to tell him it was good for the baby beforehand, and he'd do it rough or gentle for you, just as long as the baby was okay.

Would pick up everything for you, carrying everything you were attempting to carry, and holding the door open for you if you did convince him that you were okay to walk instead of being carried everywhere by him

Would let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed during labor, staying beside you no matter what and giving you encouragement just after the doctors do.

Would probably give you hot or cold food when you were having hot or cold flashes. He'd give you cold food when you were hot, then hot food when you were cold.

Would immediately learn to start carrying a vomit bag around for you just in case, rubbing your back as you threw up.

Would get scared at first once your mood swings started happening, feeling guilty until you or one of his brothers reassured him that it was part of pregnancy.

🌌 Belphegor 💤

Would gasp as soon as you said you were pregnant, diving down and resting his head on your belly for a while, nuzzling against your skin and having a dorky lazy smile on his face, knowing you were carrying his baby.

Would definitely join you for naps, offering to massage your chest before he used them as pillows.

Would definitely use your belly as a pillow at one point, listening for movement with his ear pressed against your skin.

Would definitely help you make a nursery, "testing" the baby's bed to make sure the baby would be comfortable. "Hmm? Oh. I'm making sure the bed is okay for our baby. Would you like to join me?"

Will always make sure you're comfortable and laying on your left side when sleeping.

If you were to suggest coitus he would do it very gently, knowing that you were more sensitive now and treating you very delicately.

Would hum or sing soft lullabies to you and the baby to help you fall asleep.

Would probably become more clingy during this time, helping you everywhere and caressing your belly whenever he had the chance.

Wouldn't mind your mood swings, offering his body pillow to punch if you ever got angry to the point where you needed to blow off some steam.

During labor he'd ask Beel to help carry you as he comforted you all the way to the delivery room, caressing your hand as you squeezed his hand for dear life.

Would probably suggest some constellation related names. "Maybe Cygnus? For a boy. Or... Andromeda? For a girl?"

(Hope you enjoyed this!! My ask box is still open, so feel free to ask or send anything!!~)

[vincentbriggs]

@once-a-polecat replied to your post “My uncle's friend asked if I wanted this machine...”:

So do Whites have the same parts availability as Singers? I see them around for a fraction of the price, I’ve just been holding out for a Singer because the parts are relatively easy to source. I’ve seen some really lovely White machines tho! I bet yours is going to look stunning when it’s cleaned up. That cabinet is {chefs kiss}

​I don't know, I haven't looked into it because mine's not missing any pieces and still has all 6 bobbins.

I think that as long as you can verify that it has all the parts, and at least one or two bobbins, it probably won't need any new ones.. ever? The little rubber ring on the bobbin winder and the treadle drive belt degrade after a few decades and need replacing, but you can easily buy those, and everything else is highly unlikely to break from regular use.

The one thing I was worried about was accidentally stripping the screws while taking it apart for cleaning, and there was one screw that I didn't quite have the right size of screwdriver for and it started to look a bit ehhhh so I just didn't take that part off. It wasn't one of the really gunky ones anyways, and I did my best to clean around it, and may try again someday if I get more sizes of screwdriver. So I'd advise making sure you have all the right tools before starting and slathering all the stuck bits well in kroil (what the guy in a video I watched yesterday used) or wd-40 (what I used) or some such loosening thing.

It seems like it's very hard to find new bobbins, especially since there are different styles of shuttle and the bobbins are not interchangeable. Mine's a boat style and my bobbins wouldn't work in a bullet style from a couple years later.

While cleaning this thing it hasn't even crossed my mind to wonder where I'd find replacement parts because, well, what could possibly break? Nearly every single piece is cast iron or steel, and it's already been used SO much that the decals on the bottom are almost completely gone just from the amount of fabric that's run over it.

As mentioned in the previous post it's about 140 years old, was owned by a woman who made her living sewing on it for many decades, and it still works just fine! I haven't got the bobbin winder cleaned up yet and it's still off the cabinet, but I couldn't resist trying it out with just the hand wheel (using one of the bobbins that was wound long before I was born) once I got all the bits back on and yeah! Perfect stitches right away!

As long as it's kept well oiled it's just gonna keep on chugging along indefinitely.

Are you seeing these White machines in person at secondhand stores and such? If you can check to make sure they have bobbins and that no pieces are missing, I'd say grab one! Maybe keep some reference pics of working ones so you can look and see, or even better see if you can make a stitch with it before buying it, and presumably if it can do that even slowly and gunkily then it'll just need cleaning like this one did.

By all accounts they're REALLY good machines! I'm super excited to try mine out properly, and to post more about all the features. It has a lip around the bottom of the needle bar so that if some oil drips down it won't get on your needle! Genius!! Why doesn't every machine ever have that?! It's also fairly quiet AND you can adjust the bobbin tension right in the middle of a seam without disturbing the sewing or taking the shuttle out. Incredible.

The manual for mine says "The Best in the World" on it, and while that's just a normal Victorian thing to say about a product, I'm not about to argue with them. There are a few little things that I like better on Singers, such as the quality of the hinges that hold the machine to the cabinet, and the way the presser foot attaches, but all in all this White VSII is extremely goddamn good so far and I have no doubt that once I get the bobbin winder cleaned up it'll also work perfectly!

So yeah, GET ONE!

[gigizetz]

Heya! Really love your art style, especially your Circe design. I was wondering what inspired her (Circe's) design, like the clothing style and all that good stuff, the reason I'm asking is because I also love to design characters and Circe's design really intrigued me, it's really simple yet still very elegant and feminine. So I was wondering what the reference and concepts were :D

Thank you! I don't really have references for Circe, but I can explain some of my choices for her. Hopefully that's helpful! :D

Circe was probably the first EPIC character I drew actually. I remember getting immediately excited for this musical when I noticed she would appear, because at the time I recently finished the Madeline Miller book Circe. So when I started doodling her I was basing mostly on the book interpretation of her character, and because of that, you'll notice that in these drawings she looks way more young and friendly than in the current design.

(also sorry for the quality on the second image, I sneezed when taking the picture and got too lazy to redo it)

Needless to say, the crop top and the long skirt starting at the hips aren't accurate to the period at all, but that was intentional! I think it fits that she looks so exotic and out of place, as her character in the musical is seen as this foreign threat to Odysseus' crew. She has this unfamiliar, yet seducing aura. Plus, the revealing outfit also represents how freely Circe and her nymphs live in Aeaea. Free of worries and men.

Still, at the time I wasn't really seeing Circe on these drawings. It's hard to explain, but something about her was a little bland, too elegant. Normally when I'm not "feeling it" with my character designs I try associating the character to an animal! I go over in my mind what feelings I want this character to pass off, and which animals better represent said feelings. You can see this pattern in some of my characters, how Athena has owl-like features (owls represent wisdom), how Hera's face resembles a peacock (they represent vanity), and, as I would figure out later, Circe matches with a lioness.

That's the thing that made Circe for me. What was missing on her old design was this feline, wild, but still imposing look. I gave her sharper features, lioness eyes, hair over the face, and shapes to represent various parts of a lioness. And there she was!

Very proud of her, I think I translated the image I had in my head for her as best as I could. Hope that was helpful in any way! :D

[dyscomancer]

can you explain what happened with larian and hasbro? why are the next 5 years going to be so bad?

So, Larian had to purchase from Hasbro/WotC the usage rights for the Forgotten Realms setting and the D&D 5e systems, among other things, to make Baldur's Gate 3. Larian self-published the game; it was not published by Hasbro or Wizards of the Coast.

However, they still had folks from the WotC D&D team help them with the integration of a setting they did not own. Having folks on hand to provide visual reference for artists designing characters, items, and architecture, having lore bible folks checking the story and dialogue for lore consistency, having rules designers help to change the 5e rules for the reality of it being a video game and not live tabletop; that sort of thing.

Thing is, since then, Hasbro has let every single one of the WotC employees Larian worked with (with whom they had a great time, by all accounts) go in their recent downsizing layoffs.

Larian owner, Swen Vicke, has been outspoken about the video game industry's quarterly profit mindset and how it has been ruining the industry. These downsizing layoffs are emblematic of this toxic business structure; by nixing employees, you can claim to your all-powerful shareholders that you got a bigger profit than you would have otherwise! Because god help you if you have to tell the shareholders that you didn't double your fucking profit margins from the previous quarter. Don't worry about how you just let all your veteran talent go, I'm sure that won't have any effects down the line.

Recent news has confirmed that Baldur's Gate 3 will not be receiving any DLC, despite previous statements that the concept was being looked at. It will not get any expansions like BG games before it did. It will not be getting a sequel from Larian. It will not be getting any expanded content outside of further updates and patches. Big extra content like that requires the aforementioned involvement from the WotC team; the team that has since been entirely fired.

Larian, as a company that generally eschews firing people for bullshit reasons and don't adhere as much to the bean counting mindset, found this firing of people to be horrifyingly unethical, as many of its staff and ownership have publicly stated. This almost certainly had something to do with the previously mentioned 'no DLC/sequels' announcement. Why would you want to work with a company that treats its people like that?

The '5 years' statement I stated was just a rough estimate. Hasbro has already started up on publishing their own video game titles in-house without the aid of studios like Larian, and 5 years is a pretty good window for titles like that to be released in the future. And judging by how their previous titles from a previous effort (bad mobile games, bad steam games) were received, I don't see any reasons to believe that this push would be different.

Had they just not fired people to please a bunch of asshole suits from some holding company doing fuck-all but sitting in meeting rooms to collect money, they'd likely have had a better chance at working with Larian on more stuff for BG3, more Forgotten Realms stuff in the future, and just generally had more chances for quality products made by a passionate and proven team.

tl;dr; Hasbro fired all their people who worked with Larian, and Larian rightly saw this as a dick move.

[teojira]

HI FRIEND I SAW U WERE DOING $5 COMMISSIONS!?? what are your any and all hcs for wuthering waves any character?? especiallyJiyanaheehehehe ily thank you MWAH

[General Jiyan headcanons] [x reader!]

Summary: headcanons for Jiyan! And you, of course.

Warnings: None that I can think of!

A/N: Jiyan,,,,belobed,,,, thank you for commissioning me!! I hope this is okay!

Jiyan is a busy man, and it's hard for him to take the time away from his duties to spend quality time with you. But he does try.

He's the kind of lover who will make his way home to you in the dead of night, to find you curled up in bed. He makes sure to remove all his armor so the clanking doesn't wake you.

He rests his hand on your face, gently brushing the hair out of your face as he smiles warmly down at you. You're the reason why he fights so hard everyday, he has to protect you and the others, no matter what.

I don't think he'd be touchy, but let's you cling onto him as much as your little heart desires, it doesn't bother him, he only asks that you don't do it while he's on duty.

Hug him, squeeze him, kiss him all you want, he'll sit there and take it because while he may not show it in public, bro will kiss you breathlessly at home.

It's so bad that you gotta tap his shoulder to get him off, you're literally gonna suffocate.

He trains you to protect yourself, he is away alot. This is a no brainer, he worries about you every moment he's away even if he knows it may distract him from his job as a general. He shoves you out of his mind as much as possible, he really does try but it's still there.

Jiyan is a really good househusband, dare I say the better cook and housekeeper. There's something about taking care of you that fills him with joy. While he won't do every, he does every chore with you or you both split it equally.

He likes to playfully flick water off of his fingers at you, and then act as if nothing happened.

"Jiyan, did you just?" "No, what are you referring to?" "You flicked water on me!" "I think you're going a bit insane, my dear."

Oh my god can I say he's youe scary dog privilege? Very few people know you're his partner, so when it does come up, it's usually when you're at the market collecting fruits and vegetables and the like.

He trials behind you like a shadow, humming and nodding when you ask him his preference.

Let's say this is before marriage, he gets RED when people pass along their congratulations to the both of you, he doesn't deny it, just shaking his head behind you with a finger to his lips.

He does have a ring, but it's at the base, statched under his pillow where it'll sit until he's ready.

He doesn't think he'll ever be ready, but when you smile and blush like that, he knows the time will come soon.

[hardlyinteresting]

To Have and To Hold

Jake Seresin x Reader

Jake comes home

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended) Word count: 1.8K

The floorboards creak with the weight of his footsteps still. there's a strange comfort in the sounds of this old house settling; the hum of the refrigerator downstairs, the quiet slide of his socks across wood floors. If he listens carefully, he can hear the whistle of the wind blowing past the window he meant to reseal all those months ago. The reminder of another missed task weighs heavy in his heart; a failure to provide a safe, warm home. It's the little things that matter most, his mama's voice reminds him, but it's the little things he so often misses-- always overlooked with the prayer that he won't be made a liar when he says he'll do it later. 

Time plays him for a fool. At 35 he rushes to make sure he meets the milestones he set out for himself, steadfast and resilient in his resolve to do more-- to be more. He breaks records, and sets precedents. But, he struggles to relax. Breathing doesn't come easy to him when it's not through his aviator's mask. In for seven, out for five. He counts the seconds of his inhales and exhales grounding himself in the moment. 

He does his best to hold tight to the moments he has here, But still, it never seems to be enough. like sand through an hourglass it all seems to slip away from him; these new found days of domestic bliss escape through his fingers like the memories of his childhood back in Texas. He wonders if one day he might be afforded the chance to pick up all the pieces and fit them together in some semblance of a “normal” life. He worries about his time away from home, what he's missed, and worse yet what he stands to miss if this life is taken from him too soon. 

Tonight marks the end of a six month separation, and tomorrow morning the count down to his next inevitable departure will begin. Always running out of time. It never used to bother him, it exhilarated him even, time blasting by in a blink of an eye. Back when he was younger, back when he had nothing to lose, and no idea what he stood to gain by sticking around. Now he worries about the quality of the lock on the front door, he thinks about restaining the floor downstairs and fixing up the kitchen. Domestic life snuck up on him. Slowly but surely his house became a home. Sun-baked bricks and weather-worn siding, with a shade of green paint he's been told matches his eyes. Four walls and roof that keep the outside world at bay. 

Down the hall in their bedroom, he Expects to find his wife sleeping, waiting in dreams for him to come home to her. It's the part of his job he struggles with the most now. It's so hard to leave this life they've built now that part of him is forever tethered to the earth. 

“I worry sometimes that I'm holding you back,” she confessed one night, “your job is hard enough as it is…I don't want to make it harder for you”. He hadn't been able to find the words to tell her how wrong she was.How could he describe the ways she had changed him? 

The need to return home to her never leaves him stunted in the sky, it fuels him. Long gone are the days where he fought just to be seen; she sees him. He's quick up there, tens of thousands of feet above the ground, he's calm and he's brilliant. His colleagues can call him cocky all they want, but his confidence is founded on his proven ability, and sometimes it's necessary to show off a little bit even if it's just so he can have another story to tell his sweetheart when he gets home. He imagines himself writing her name in the sky, carving her likeness in the clouds, a blazing trail racing home to her. 

So many of his earlier years had been spent playing the field too afraid to commit, too afraid to be loved. Adaptability, while necessary for his job, had never been his strong suit. A tiny part of him deep in the back of his mind always left the hair at the back of his neck on end when faced with change.

He had struggled in school, not academically, but socially and learned to over compensate to make up for his discomfort. The navy had given him the structure he had craved, a way to make his bed and fold his clothes, instructions that weren't open to interpretation. Living on his own allowed him to follow the same schedule and practices as he did on base.  In a split second, his life on the line, he never hesitates, but sustained change to his daily life left him nauseated. Welcoming another person into his life, and into his home had pushed him past the edges of where he believed his comfort laid, but forced him to confide in a support system outside of routine. 

Over the course of a few weeks her belongings joined his, sprinkled through out the house like a treasures to be found. Without a word she had taken care to intermix her books with the few of his own on the shelf, sorting them by alphabetical order just as he'd been doing for years. His anxiety slowly waned as his darling girl continued to prove she understood him better than anyone else ever had. 

“Do you prefer flying at dusk or dawn?” She had asked a few weeks after she moved in. curled up on their sofa, her head tucked under his chin, college football playing on the tv, she traced invisible shapes across his chest. “I don't have a preference, sweetheart. I just like flying,” his response felt half-baked, but it was the honest-to-good truth. 

“But if you had to pick?” she persisted. He weighed his answer before giving it to her, “if I had to pick, it would be dusk. There’s a moment, if you're up at the right time where you can see the night sky blending into the sunset…the sky is a gray-blue and you can see the sun at the horizon and the little pinpricks of stars”. 

“It sounds beautiful,” her smile was soft and genuine when she cupped his cheek to make sure he was looking at her. A habit of hers, not letting him hide away from the softer parts of himself, she seemed to so easily pull out. “It is”.

That weekend he’d spent 72 hours on base and returned home on Monday evening to the faintest smell of fresh paint. In the low evening light, it took him a moment to figure it out, standing puzzled in the middle of the living room, still dressed in his service khakis trying to identify the source of the smell. “You’re home!” she’d grinned coming down the stairs, her jeans and t-shirt splattered with gray. It’s then he noticed with his darling girl looking so proud of herself, the walls of the living room coated in a soft heather blue-grey, no longer just a coat of contractor-grade white reflecting the shade of twilight through the windows. Flicking on the light he watched her grow nervous as he felt his brow furrow processing the unexpected change. “Do you like it?” she asked. 

“It’s perfect, baby,” he promised pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly, “It’s beautiful”. 

A few months later he came home from work to find his shower gel and shampoo had both been replaced by a new set. Confused and with no other option, he chose to use them, deciding he liked the smell of eucalyptus and mint much more than he'd liked sport: for men anyway. 

“Baby, what happened to my shower gel?” 

“You were complaining about how dry your skin has been”.

“Hmm,” the consideration to change his routine to better himself hadn't occurred to him before she moved in. 

More recently he'd come home from a night out with the squadron, and woken up under a Forest green duvet, a jarring difference to the burgundy plaid cover he'd owned for years. Momentary panic filled his chest. Like a sharp, sudden plunge into cold water he'd gasped his eyes scanning the room to confirm his location. The familiar scent of her perfume, the sound of the ocean breeze, assured him he was in fact in their room. In the dark when he'd come home, colour of the duvet hadn't been noticeable and he found himself mildly embarrassed by how badly it startled him. Her hand reaching out for him, stretching across the sheets to touch him lured him back to a flat position letting her snuggle herself right up against his side. It was then he noticed that the weight of the blanket was the same as before, and it was just as plush as it had always been. Her on going respect for his comfort continued to leave him floored. A memory of her texting him to ask his favourite colour (green) filled his mind and left him drifting back to sleep with a smile on his face. 

Secretly, he'd begun to look forward to the tiny changes she brought into his life and into the house. The littlest reminders of their strengthening bond, their lives stitching together in more tangible and visible ways. The Navy had taught him to think literally, latteral thinking developed and honed to reach conclusions and make decisions quickly and effectively, but the metaphor of their lives blending like the presence of her belongings along side his own, and freshly painted walls is not lost on him. 

Tonight the house is quiet as it often is when he returns so late. He knows if she knew what day he was set to come back home she would've done her best to stay awake for him, dozing off on the sofa with the living room curtains wide open, hoping to catch the sight of his headlights pulling into the driveway. It's thoughts of her safe and waiting for him that have pulled him through this latest deployment, so he does his best not to disturb her sleep as he makes his way to her. Like a silent sirens call an unspeakable force drags him through the house. His boots are left by the door, laces tucked in. His bag is heavy in his hand, more than just its physical weight tugging at him, and he's glad to be able to put it down by the bedroom door. 

“Welcome home,” she whispers stirring from her sleep as he slips beneath the sheets, freshly showered. 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Literary Terms & Devices

Literary devices and terms - are the techniques and elements that writers use to create narrative literature, poetry, speeches, or any other form of writing.

Anadiplosis - a figure of speech in which a word or group of words located at the end of one clause or sentence is repeated at or near the beginning of the following clause or sentence. This line from the novelist Henry James is an example of anadiplosis: "Our doubt is our passion, and our passion is our task."

Bildungsroman - a genre of novel that shows a young protagonist's journey from childhood to adulthood (or immaturity to maturity), with a focus on the trials and misfortunes that affect the character's growth.

Chiasmus - a figure of speech in which the grammar of one phrase is inverted in the following phrase, such that two key concepts from the original phrase reappear in the second phrase in inverted order. The sentence "She has all my love; my heart belongs to her," is an example of chiasmus.

Diacope - a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is repeated with a small number of intervening words. The first line of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way," is an example of diacope.

Epizeuxis - a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is repeated in immediate succession, with no intervening words. In the play Hamlet, when Hamlet responds to a question about what he's reading by saying "Words, words, words," that's an example of epizeuxis.

Foreshadowing - a literary device in which authors hint at plot developments that don't actually occur until later in the story. Foreshadowing can be achieved directly or indirectly, by making explicit statements or leaving subtle clues about what will happen later in the text. The Russian author Anton Chekhov summarized foreshadowing when he wrote, "If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off." The description of the gun on the wall, in other words, should foreshadow its later use.

Hubris - excessive pride or overconfidence, which drives a person to overstep limits in a way that leads to their downfall. In Greek mythology, the legend of Icarus involves an iconic case of hubris: Icarus is given artificial wings made of wax and feathers so that he can fly (a superhuman feat), but he ignores his father's warnings and flies too close to the sun, melting his wings and drowning in the ocean.

Irony - a literary device or event in which how things seem to be is in fact very different from how they actually are. If this seems like a loose definition, don't worry—it is. Irony is a broad term that encompasses three different types of irony, each with their own specific definition: verbal irony, dramatic irony, and situational irony. Most of the time when people use the word irony, they're actually referring to one of these specific types of irony.

Juxtaposition - occurs when an author places two things side by side as a way of highlighting their differences. Ideas, images, characters, and actions are all things that can be juxtaposed with one another. For example, it's a common plot device in fairy tales such as Cinderella to juxtapose the good-natured main character with a cruel step-sibling. The differences between the characters, as well as their close relation to one another, serve to highlight the main character's good qualities.

Kenning - a figure of speech in which two words are combined in order to form a poetic expression that refers to a person or a thing. For example, "whale-road" is a kenning for the sea. Kennings are most commonly found in Old Norse and Old English poetry.

Litotes - a figure of speech and a form of understatement in which a sentiment is expressed ironically by negating its contrary. For example, saying "It's not the best weather today" during a hurricane would be an example of litotes, implying through ironic understatement that the weather is, in fact, horrible.

Metonymy - a type of figurative language in which an object or concept is referred to not by its own name, but instead by the name of something closely associated with it. For example, in "Wall Street prefers lower taxes," the New York City street that was the original home of the New York Stock Exchange stands in for (or is a "metonym" for) the entire American financial industry.

Narrative - an account of connected events. Two writers describing the same set of events might craft very different narratives, depending on how they use different narrative elements, such as tone or point of view. For example, an account of the American Civil War written from the perspective of a white slaveowner would make for a very different narrative than if it were written from the perspective of a historian, or a former slave.

Onomatopoeia - a figure of speech in which words evoke the actual sound of the thing they refer to or describe. The “boom” of a firework exploding, the “tick tock” of a clock, and the “ding dong” of a doorbell are all examples of onomatopoeia.

Polyptoton - a figure of speech that involves the repetition of words derived from the same root (such as "blood" and "bleed"). For instance, the question, "Who shall watch the watchmen?" is an example of polyptoton because it includes both "watch" and "watchmen."

Quatrain - a four-line stanza of poetry. It can be a single four-line stanza, meaning that it is a stand-alone poem of four lines, or it can be a four-line stanza that makes up part of a longer poem.

Red herring - a piece of information in a story that distracts readers from an important truth, or leads them to mistakenly expect a particular outcome. Most often, the term red herring is used to refer to a "false clue"—a piece of evidence that misleads readers to believe that a crime (or other action) was committed by someone other than the actual culprit.

Sibilance - a figure of speech in which a hissing sound is created within a group of words through the repetition of "s" sounds. An example of sibilance is: "Sadly, Sam sold seven venomous serpents to Sally and Cyrus in San Francisco."

Theme - a universal idea, lesson, or message explored throughout a work of literature. One key characteristic of literary themes is their universality, which is to say that themes are ideas that not only apply to the specific characters and events of a book or play, but also express broader truths about human experience that readers can apply to their own lives. For instance, John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath (about a family of tenant farmers who are displaced from their land in Oklahoma) is a book whose themes might be said to include the inhumanity of capitalism, as well as the vitality and necessity of family and friendship.

Understatement - a figure of speech in which something is expressed less strongly than would be expected, or in which something is presented as being smaller, worse, or lesser than it really is. Typically, understatement is used to call attention to the very quality it pretends to downplay. For instance, if you had just eaten the most delicious meal of your life and licked the plate clean, you might jokingly tell the chef that "It was edible," making use of understatement to humorously express how much you appreciated the meal.

Verbal irony - occurs when the literal meaning of what someone says is different from—and often opposite to—what they actually mean. When there's a hurricane raging outside and someone remarks "what lovely weather we're having," this is an example of verbal irony.

Zeugma - a figure of speech in which one "governing" word or phrase modifies two distinct parts of a sentence. Often, the governing word will mean something different when applied to each part, as in the sentence, "He took his coat and his vacation." The verb "to take" makes sense with and governs both "coat" and "vacation," but is appropriate to each in a different way.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References