#or ridicule them for having what you consider low end/quality items.
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sometimes i think life is good and sometimes i see posts like this that take me back to high school when the club i had spent literally every single day attending until the premise closed for the night after school wouldn't let me take part in anything because i couldn't afford a computer, a basic, simple laptop to use the software that was being taught
i had so much passion in that one thing; the only thing i'd ever had any interest in (and it's been that way ever since, too,) just because... i couldn't afford a pc
damn, my bad, shouldn't have been poor
i think about all the things i missed out on sometimes. i tried so hard. i went to my local college by sneaking in with my elder siblings to use the computers there to use the software in hopes that i could be at least acknowledged.
i wonder still if things could have been different. i regret. i regret so much.
'i have money so my opinion matters 8x more than you'
i've seen a rich kid who knew nothing about the content, didnt take anything seriously and was more busy pining over girls and worrying about the clicks left in his mouse(???) get praised as one of the best students the club had —
because he had the money to firsthand buy all the devices and software and *everything* we were learning and could use them and know about them....
....things none of the rest of us could do, because we couldn't afford those things.
idk it's offtopic now but. man. imagine being blamed for being poor.
we don't wanna be poor man. i missed out on so much. it hurt so much. it still hurts so much. it hurts to the point where i wish til this very day that i had never gotten an interest at all, so i wouldn't ever have to feel that kind of pain.
not being allowed to enjoy something so basic like a simple game or a basic goddamn windows OS just because you can't afford the latest graphics card and high end processing units... that's cruel man.
it still hurts, but these days i can hold things close to me like my own (at last!) laptop that i bought with my own money like it's the most precious thing to me in the world. if screenshot op really was poor, i don't get how he found that high horse with a stick on its saddle to plop his ass onto, because i don't wish this kind of pain onto anybody.
no one wants to be poor, no one wants to struggle to afford the basic pleasures of life.
that joy of being able to reach 'that world' that seemed so far away is uncomparable. i can't fathom how you'd look down on someone for something like that. 'the asshole trying to game on the 500$ student laptop' dawg no one wants to game on their shitty acer notebook, people just... don't have a choice.
if you had a single shred of morality in you, i really don't get how you could blame someone else for such a situation. if i had to pick between being able to play video games on a little computer or to have enough money to buy myself a meal today, i-
man, im so mad, i can't finish this post. i stopped so many times typing already i just *can't.*
My solution for bloatware is this: by law you should hire in every programming team someone who is Like, A Guy who has a crappy laptop with 4GB and an integrated graphics card, no scratch that, 2 GB of RAM, and a rural internet connection. And every time someone in your team proposes to add shit like NPCs with visible pores or ray tracing or all the bloatware that Windows, Adobe, etc. are doing now, they have to come back and try your project in the Guy's laptop and answer to him. He is allowed to insult you and humilliate you if it doesn't work in his laptop, and you should by law apologize and optimize it for him. If you try to put any kind of DRM or permanent internet connection, he is legally allowed to shoot you.
With about 5 or 10 years of that, we will fix the world.
#elize.txt#eliza.txt#dreaming of a dream#so many bad memories#so so so mad#there's so much i want to say but the anger is scattering my words to the wind#don't you ever dare blame someone for being unable to afford something#or ridicule them for having what you consider low end/quality items.
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"Until you..." part. 8.
Hiromi Higuruma x reader.
Until you came into his life, Hiromi Higuruma had occasionally considered making a change within himself—mentally, emotionally, and physically—but he had never taken the idea with the seriousness it truly required.
Until you came along.
And now, here he was, tossing and turning in his bed, the blankets strewn about at his feet and tangled between his legs. Low grumbles and muttered curses escaped him as he rubbed his hands over his face, almost violently, and made a faint, barely perceptible pout.
“I just want to sleep. God, please help me sleep…” he whispered under his breath, attempting once more to close his eyes, only to open them twenty-eight seconds later.
He stared up at the ceiling, once again thinking about how, indeed, your presence had changed so much in him. So much so that he was making a mental list of the things he considered wrong in his life and that he might change.
But part of him thought this whole situation was rather ridiculous and amusing. Who would have thought he’d be planning to alter his routine, his habits, his surroundings, even himself... just because he’d met you?
But it wasn’t a joke, not in the slightest. In fact, he took it as a sign that he should do it. It wasn’t that he thought of you as “ridiculous and amusing.” No.
No.
Not at all. That would be the last thing he’d think. He felt that way about himself—about how he was feeling now and how he wanted to change because of your presence.
Reflecting on it more deeply, something he was reluctant to do out of fear—fear, obviously, of discovering the truth—he realised it was entirely because of you. Thanks to you. Because of you.
For you.
Hiromi had come to realise he had good qualities, clear values, and “positive” things. But putting it all on a scale… What weighed more? His good or bad traits? His good or bad habits? Was he worth it? Could he be “someone important”... to someone?
Could he… be the right man for someone?
For you?
He swallowed and turned over in bed, his charcoal-coloured hair becoming even more dishevelled. He found himself curling up into a small ball, feeling more vulnerable than ever. And, at that moment, two tears escaped his eyes.
“What should I do, God? What do you want me to do?” he thought, his hands covering his eyes, ashamed at the idea of crying again.
And the answer appeared in his mind, clear as the first glimmer of dawn, like a light at the end of a dark tunnel, like a choir of angels in the midst of an infernal storm…
Don’t be afraid. Make the changes you deem necessary. Do it for yourself.
And it was at that moment he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling—frightened, yet euphoric at the same time. His heart felt as if it were about to leap from his chest. He sat up in bed and then let his legs dangle over the side.
He stood, and with slow but steady steps, turned on the light in the small living room. Rummaging through the papers, he found a small notepad and a pen. “Damn, this is real,” he muttered aloud to himself.
Almost running in his nervousness, he went to the table and sat at the edge. With trembling hands, he wrote:
“Things I want to change about myself.”
And he felt that his world, in that very moment, had indeed changed. He had taken the first step. Thanks to you. Thanks to your existence. He found himself writing item after item, planning everything, and his trembling gradually subsided.
Another list. “Things I want to change about my flat.”
Yet another. “Things I want to change about my office.”
“Things I want to learn.”
“Things I want to do.”
“Things I want to improve in.”
And from the early hours of dawn, where the stars adorned the beautiful night sky, to when the first rays of sunlight began to seep through the windows, Hiromi Higuruma was planning, researching, and making changes.
When he finished, he decided it was finally time to prepare to go to work. And he did so lightly, feeling more at ease with himself. Happy, expectant, with a faint smile.
And until you came into his life, Hiromi Higuruma had occasionally considered making a change within himself—mentally, emotionally, and physically—but he had never taken the idea with the seriousness it truly required.
Until you came along.
#fanfic#higuruma hiromi#hiromi higuruma#hiromi higuruma x reader#hiromi jjk#hiromi x reader#jjk#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk higuruma#jjk x you#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma x reader#jujutsu kaisen higuruma#jujutsu higuruma#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x yn#fanfiction#x reader
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So target released a dup pair of Frye boots and someone on tiktok was complaining about trend culture and you should really just save up the money to buy the name brand boots because they're better quality and will last you longer, and a lot of people are responding to it and I have thoughts.
I agree with the op in that trend culture is a problem for several reasons (it's unsustainable, it encourages excessive spending, it creates cliquishness). I also theoretically agree with the advice of saving up money for the better quality thing that will last you longer. This however comes from a low income person who is not fashionable nor cares about being fashionable. I can't really assert my views onto everyone else. A mid income person who has a passion in fashion should absolutely take that advice if they collect or regularly style high end items. But if I were to spend $500 or a bag or a pair of boots that would absolutely be a waste of money. I'm not spending that kind of cash on something I'll maybe use twice a year.
I've got maybe half a dozen nice outfits in my closet (dresses and skirt/blouses and some nice slacks) and when I see some shoes or a belt that looks like it might go well with one or some of my outfits, if money isn't particularly tight, I might get it. My everyday heavy use items are jeans, tshirts, and either canvas sneakers or my doc's for work. The thing that consistently gives out first are my sneakers and that's usually every year or two and they're like $60 to replace. I could probably find more sustainable shoes that will last for 10+ years but I'm just not gonna do that. I like my sneakers and two years for canvas and rubber is a totally fine timeline for everyday wear shoes to last. But if I was a person in the same situation I'm in now but I liked dressing more stylish, I'd probably still follow the same model; buy what you can that you will use consistently and at a quality you find manageable.
There's also the reality that a lot of clothing items are being made by impoverished people under hazardous conditions, but both luxury brands and off brand companies are guilty of this. Companies that use sustainable labor and materials are, unsurprisingly, unaffordable to the average person who isn't fashion oriented. (This is the big reason why I'm against buying trends, all of the reasons to indulge are strictly personal and don't consider the well-being of the people making those garments or the planet)
It's super easy to just say thrift it, but even I at my favorite thrift store have trouble finding clothing that I wouldn't consider a waste of money (it's like $5 for a pair of used pants but if I'm never gonna wear them then what's the point), and my style is the most easy to shop for. You have to count on someone else donating something you would also wear in your size, which makes it harder for plus size people to go shopping (I give grace to plus size people who shop fast fashion companies bc I legit get it, it's hard to be ridiculed for your body and also never wear something that makes you feel confident and comfortable, but even then I think there should be some self awareness of trends and overspending)
Anyway, everyone is a little bit right and everything can be true at once actually
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In defense of needlessly luxury and decadent products
So long as a company produces good and decent quality products for working/lower income earners that are clearly as quality and quantity as they are because of surplus from selling higher quality/luxury items to higher income people, I don't care if someone else has better stuff than me.
Lets say an electric car company built nice, solid, reliable, long range get-up-and-go electric trucks. I sincerely could not and would not give a single fiddler's fuck if that same car company built luxury brands or models that my ass wouldn't be able to afford with 20 years of minimum wage. Not one Gregorian Choir's hoot.
Because when you jack up the price of something extrenuous that is nice and pretty and neat but offers diminishing returns to the advantage, that's just a vanity. It's a true luxury. Like I give a fuck if they sell Skibidi Toilet skins for Fortnote for dollars and add a diamond and gold encrusted skibidi toilet for hundreds of dollars that some ten year old will never be able to convince mommy and daddy to buy for them; Good on the silver spoon born 10 year old with deeper pockets for BUYING that piece of shit, they've helped the company get into the black and sustain itself for the foreseeable future.
But the caveat is I will frown if the basic products are low quality and shit when they could be solid and quality. I am not afraid at all of luxury goods for people with the cash to throw around. If your basic products aren't to a minimum quality standard, just cheap junk lowballed to pretend you care about the basic market, then it may as well just be diluting quality for the basic earner to make the luxury stuff seem superior.
Ideally, basic stuff should be decent. Long lasting, enduring, functional. And luxury stuff, ideally, would be superior quality versions of that and exponentially worth the cost. OR, it should be so ridiculously vain and temporary that it's utterly meaningless save for a brief moment of status. Either extreme quality or extreme extrenuous luxury, or some combination of both.
In my eyes the end purpose of a shoe company isn't to half-ass making shoes for low income earners, it's to make a decent product for everybody and also maybe some ridiculously beautiful limited edition products deliberately intended as status symbols for those that can afford it. If you already have what amounts to the same product but the lack of a goldleaf streak, are you REALLY much worse off?
Some people treat the up pricing of silly luxury goods like some sort of war between the rich and the peasants. I don't. Very seldom can you consider any distinction between the two as deliberate slights; it's the realm of vain, paranoid, jealous people insecure that they don't have the income to be among the stupidly wealthy. Or, a petty wealthy person that is so insecure they get off on lording that fantasy over people without the luxury good. Both people are emotionally and intellectually poor, either way.
So that's my view. Sell middle to upper class people nice things. A good capitalist will put that upscale sell into R&D and minimum quality standards for a product available to turn a profit even at minimum wage or below.
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A warning about high polycount custom content - for downloaders and creators
I don't claim to be an expert on custom content, but I've been making CC for nearly 4 years now and I think I've learned a thing or two about how to spot custom content that might not be best for your computer/game. I only recently got a computer that can handle some of the CC out there, so I wanted to make a guide on how to spot CC that might not be right for you if you want fast loading times, minimal overheating, or your computer isn't as powerful. This guide will mostly be about clothing, but I'm sure most of these things can be applied to other types of CC.
Disclaimer: Absolutely no hate to anyone who makes CC that is high polycount -- I am guilty of doing this without disclosing it earlier in my CC making journey. We are all learning and improving every day and we all have different preferences for our own CC making which is the fun part of this community :) If you are a CC creator who needs help avoiding high polycount please message me and I would 100% be willing to you help you
High polycounts
3D content is made up of vertices that connect to each other to create a 3D model that can be molded into different shapes (the small segments that make up these larger shapes are called polygons). The more little dots you have, the more detailed the item can be. However, there are ways to include detail without using a high number of these vertices and polygons, it just takes time and practice.
Why should I be wary of downloading CC with a high polycount?
There is a reason that clothing made by EA/Maxis has a limit to the number of polygons they can use in their meshes. If an item of CC has too high of a polycount, it could drastically slow down your game, overheat your computer, cause your game to crash, or even permanently damage the hardware of your computer. Of course, there are different tolerances for high polycounts based on the specs of your computer, so be aware of this before downloading. If your computer cannot run smoothly on the ultra graphics setting without CC installed, you should probably be proactive about the kind of CC you download to avoid these issues.
However, even those with high end computers can run into issues when trying to play with a lot of this kind of CC, so it is up to the individual player to decide what they want for their game. I permanently damaged my last computer by busting a fan due to graphics rendering in the Sims 4. Please do not make the same (very expensive) mistakes I have.
The case for high polycounts:
There are certain clothing items that would not be possible to model in the sims without a high polycount. The creators who make these very detailed meshes are super talented and have my utmost respect, but my old computer just couldn’t handle them! My rule of thumb for my own personal game is that if I’m going to download something with a crazy high poly count, it better be something special. In my opinion, there’s no reason a simple tank top should be 3x the polycount of an average EA mesh. A handful of high polycount items aren’t going to crash your game (probably-- know your own computer’s limits), but considering most people will download many items from the same creator, the collection of all of those items may cause issues.
CC creators make their meshes for fun and creativity, and many don’t create for the express purpose of having many people use a bunch of their meshes in their games at once. It’s totally fine to make high polycount custom content, but if you’re a CC creator it would be respectful to people who download your items and support you to be warned of these possible issues (especially if they are paying for them!!!). Most CC creators have high-end computers, but downloaders might not, which is something to keep in mind :)
How high is too high?
This is honestly a personal preference. For me, anything with more than double the average polycount is “unacceptable without disclosing” and must include a disclaimer when I post it. For toddler full body outfits, which is what I normally make, I would consider this to be around 10-12K as the max acceptable polycount to post without a disclaimer. This number varies based on the type of CC, with adult polycounts being higher usually (given that items are quite literally larger than toddler items). For adult full-body outfits, I try to stay under 15K, and anything over 20k I would consider needing a disclaimer. But, again, this is up for personal debate, and there are a lot of factors that go into this. I am just basing this information on EA’s limits and my personal experience from playing this game on lower end computers.
How to spot high poly-count CC
So, you’ve decided that for your personal game, you want to avoid high polycount CC. Unfortunately, many creators do not disclose when their CC has an high polycount, so it’s up to you to figure out which is which.
Before you download the item: for clothing, the easiest way to spot high polycount CC from preview photos is to look for folding in the fabrics. I don't have a high polycount CC of my own that is completed to show you, and I don’t want to put another creators CC here out of respect, so here is an example of an unfinished mesh that can get the point across.
As you can see, the folds in the sleeves look like they are mostly physically present, and that the folds aren't a result of the texture. This often results in sort of a "bumpy" look to the CC. If you're seeing clothing that has this tell-tale bumpy look with many folds that you can tell are 3-dimensional, you should probably avoid this CC (if you have decided to avoid high polycount CC). A small amount of bumps is normal but as you can tell by this skirt it's a little more extreme.
Below you can see the low polycount version of this cc item where the folds look much smoother and are not as 3 dimensional. I added details like the folds in the sweater and at the top of the skirt with textures and mapping rather than a high polycounts as you might be able to tell by the fact that there are smooth edges rather than 3D folds. I have a small section of ruffles on the sleeves that have maintained a higher polycount which you can see by the physical ruffles. Details like this are impossible to do with just textures.
There are many CC creators much more talented than I that are very good at using texture images to give off the illusion of detail without high polycounts. Look at the edges of the item where folds appear and if there’s a smooth line there, the creator might be using textures and mapping to give the illusion of folding!
After you download the item: Of course, you can always download Sims4Studio, the program CC creators use to import their meshes into the sims format, to check polycounts. If you open CC in this program and click the meshes tab, the polycount will be displayed here. I only do this for items that I think might be insane polycounts (like 100k+ or something ridiculous for clothing, which is about ten times higher than I would recommend) that might crash my game, otherwise, I usually just go by how the item looks in the previews with the tips I just told you.
There are some CC items that are pretty much guaranteed to have high polycounts. The vast majority of alpha hair will have high polycounts -- this is unavoidable and does not mean the CC is not high quality, it is just a necessity for that kind of CC. Just be aware that having many alpha CC hairs in your game might cause slowdown/overheating.
I am a CC creator who wants to start making lower polycount stuff that still has detail. How do I get started?
I started figuring out how to do detail via textures and normal mapping about two years ago. The main resource that helped me was this fantastic tutorial by SLYD. The main thing you need for this method is a lowpoly AND highpoly version of your mesh. It takes more time to do this versus making a highpoly mesh but I think the payoff is worth it to make good quality cc that everyone can enjoy :) (Also, another benefit is you won’t have to spend so long waiting for sims4studio to import your mesh) If you would like some tips on how to do this or have questions from that tutorial feel free to message me anytime! I also have a discord server where you can get help with CC making. Again, I am not the best expert around but I might know enough to help you.
Here is another discussion on this topic that I think is a really good read if you are interested :)
TL;DR if you’re a creator who makes high polycount stuff, please put a disclaimer on your downloads. If you’re a downloader, be aware of what your own personal game and computer can handle.
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for tma fantasy week prompt 7: legend
.
Jon’s foot slips on a tree root, and he nearly falls before he manages to catch himself on a tree, the rough bark cutting into the palm of his hand. He mutters a curse and checks to make sure he hasn’t dropped any items from his basket. The mushrooms and herbs seem to be in order, and Jon carefully tucks a delicate white flower back into place before starting forward again.
That’s what he gets for foraging at night, he supposes. But the flowers he’s looking for bloom in a very specific time frame, and if he doesn’t pick them then, they’ll lose their medicinal quality. So, Jon grits his teeth and slows his pace slightly, taking more care with where he places his feet lest he end up actually hurting himself or—gods forbid—losing some of his supplies. He needs those flowers; most of his medicines rely on the little purple blossoms clustered near the shore of the lake, and he’s the only one who makes them. So, he spends most of his nights in the woods and most of his days fighting off exhaustion. The bags under his eyes have reached rather impressive proportions.
It’s not his fault everyone else is too scared to venture into the woods at night. Putting so much stock in a local legend, in what is essentially a child’s tale, is ridiculous, and Jon will have no part of it.
He’s heard the legend before, of course, so many times that the words have begun to grate on his ears like sandpaper. According to legend, there had once been a man who lived in the very center of the forest. He lived alone, isolated and hidden away in the trees, with only the flora and fauna for company. But it had never bothered him, and he had spent his time painting the forest in yellows and purples and blues, spreading wildflowers all the way to the edges of the wood and carving paths in the earth for creeks and streams to flow. (This was the part that annoyed Jon the most; a man living alone in the woods he could believe, but that? Ridiculous.)
The man had grown comfortable being alone. He’d loved it. And then, one day, another came to the center of the wood, looking to build a home there. The stranger stepped on the flowers the man had carefully cultivated and scared away the birds and disrupted the gentle silence of the trees and the leaves with boisterous words. So, from within the forest, the man summoned a great fog, thick and heavy as it rolled over the ground and through the trees, and swallowed the stranger whole. And then the man was alone again.
Something something legend says he still lives in the woods, something something only comes out at night, something something people sometimes see fog peeking through the trees when they get too close, whatever. It’s all nonsense. Jon knows it is, because he’s been visiting the forest at night for months and he’s never seen anything but a few startled rabbits and a plethora of moths.
They’d even named the place after him. Blackwood Forest. Jon had always disliked the name—it felt rather repetitive for it to contain both wood and forest, and there had almost certainly never been a man called Blackwood living in this forest.
Jon is crouched by the lake, halfway through collecting that night’s quota of flowers, when he realizes with a start that he can’t see his hands clearly anymore. They’re hazy before him, like he’s viewing them through warped glass, and when he looks up and over the lake, he’s met with only grey, stagnant and flat and unmoving as it surrounds him.
Jon stands, gripping his basket tightly. He can barely see its contents; they’re smudged by the fog, turned greyscale and desaturated. His own skin looks sickly, like all the color has been drawn out of it.
“Hello?” he says, his voice too-loud in the stillness that surrounds him, and if it shakes a bit he pretends it doesn’t because he’s not scared. There’s no ghostly specter of a man planning to trap him in fog forever. It’s a temperate night; fog is to be expected. There’s nothing supernatural about a bit of fog.
Then, a voice drifts out of the fog, and Jon nearly drops his basket in shock.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” it says. The words reverberate through the fog, echoing over and over again until they trail away into nothing.
What? Indignance wipes away Jon’s surprise in the span of a breath, and he snaps back, “I can go where I very well please, thank you. I’ve been coming here for months, and I’m not going to stop just because you tell me to.”
Gods, he’s talking to fog. This is a new low for him.
There’s a moment of silence before Jon swears he hears the fog sigh. It’s almost absurd enough to make him laugh. “Still, you… you should leave.”
Jon scoffs and decides to entertain, just for a moment, the notion that he’s speaking to the man everyone’s convinced is haunting these woods. “What, can’t you just threaten to steal me away? To hold me captive in the fog forever? Apparently, it’s what you do.”
It’s quiet for a long while—long enough that Jon begins to shift impatiently and consider how long it might take him to navigate out of the forest without being able to see the route in front of him. Then, so quietly Jon can barely hear it, the voice says, “It’s not.”
If Jon didn’t know any better, he’d think that whatever’s hiding in the fog sounds sad. “What?”
The fog clusters a bit heavier around Jon, tickling at his skin and leaving behind a fine mist of water, before retreating suddenly, leaving the ground and the trees bare around him, illuminated by the moon above. And, not five feet away, stands a man, his edges blurred and every part of him an icy white, from the curls that spill down his shoulders to his skin to the cloak he has wrapped tightly around him (though, when Jon looks closer, he thinks that might actually be fog, thick and clinging to the man’s skin). The man is looking at a point just behind Jon’s shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not,” he repeats. “I- I don’t want to hurt anyone. I haven’t hurt anyone.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Who’s there to hurt? Nobody comes here anymore.”
Well. Jon still doesn’t believe in legends, but this is hardly a legend anymore, is it, with the man in question stood there in front of him? A bit warier, Jon says, “So then… what do you want?”
The man looks at Jon then—really looks at him—and a shiver runs through Jon’s body like he’s just stuck his hand in ice water. “I… I don’t really know?” He hugs his cloak tighter to him, the fog shifting as he does so, and continues, “I… I suppose we could… we could talk?”
“Talk,” Jon repeats flatly. “I hardly see why the fog was necessary, then.”
A few tendrils of fog snake out from the man, reaching toward Jon, before the man seems to notice, and they retreat back into the fabric of his cloak. More sharply than Jon expects, the man says, “I’m a bit out of practice, okay? Like, a few decades out of practice. I think I’m allowed a bit of leeway.”
Maybe Jon’s imagining things, but he thinks, just for a moment, that he sees a flash of color—a wisp of tawny brown lacing through the man’s hair. When he blinks, though, it’s vanished, and so he puts it out of mind. “And what did you want to talk about?”
The man pauses at that, wrings his hands together. “Anything?” he says finally with a small shrug. “Like, er… what do you use the viccolas for?”
“The what?”
The man gestures toward Jon’s basket. “The viccolas? They’re one of my favorite flowers here—a shame they only bloom at night, really—and I used to use them in my tea, to- to help with the pain. I, er. I used to be quite ill before I…” The man trails off and makes a small, distressed noise.
“Died?” Jon suggests helpfully.
“What?” The man’s head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with surprise, and there it is again—that small flash of color, just for a moment, this time along the side of the man’s face, a light peach almost indistinguishable from the pale white surrounding it but there all the same. “No, I- I’m not a ghost! Why- why would you think that?”
“To be fair, you do look like one.”
The man makes a frustrated noise. “I- I suppose, but that’s- that’s not what happened! I’m still alive, I’m just not—”
The man cuts off again, sharper this time. When he speaks again, his voice is choked, as if with tears. “I’m just not human anymore, I don’t think.”
Well, Jon could have told him that much. It’s really rather obvious. Still, he doesn’t think that would be well received. So, instead, he says, “I use the flowers for medicines. Nobody else comes into these woods at night, but I’ve never been afraid of- well, of you, I suppose.”
He wants to ask the man if he’d created the flowers. If he’d painted them by the lake like the legends say. But that would be ridiculous, and Jon’s not keen on indulging his own childish sense of curiosity.
“Oh,” the man says quietly. “So, then, you… you’ll keep coming back for them?”
Jon frowns. “Yes, of course. Some of the people I help would die without the medicine I give them.” His expression turns wary again. “So I would suggest you not try to stop me.”
“No, no, of course not,” the man says quickly, looking rather horrified at the thought. Which does put Jon’s mind at peace a little. “I… I suppose I just thought that maybe we- we could talk again? Er, whenever you come back, that is.” He lets out a small, bitten-off laugh. “I promise I won’t surround you with fog this time?”
“Yes, that would be preferable.”
The man’s eyes brighten at that, his irises lit briefly with a flash of baby blue. “Is- is that a yes?”
He looks so excited at the prospect of another conversation with Jon—one that will surely feel just as much like pulling teeth as this one, though that could just be Jon’s poor interpersonal skills. And unlike what some people might think, Jon is not heartless. Besides, he can’t deny that he’s curious about the man who lives at the center of the Blackwood Forest.
“All right,” Jon says with a small nod. “I’ll be back this time next week.”
The lips that smile back at him are rosy red. “G- great! Er, sorry, I- I realize I never actually asked… what’s your name?”
After a pause during which Jon briefly entertains the notion of giving out a false name, he says, “Jon. You can call me Jon.”
“Jon,” the man says, as if testing its weight upon his tongue. “I’m- I’m Martin. Er, Martin Blackwood.”
Right. A bit of truth in the legends after all, then.
Jon leaves with his flowers, and Martin fades back into the fog that hangs over the lake’s surface. And when Jon returns the next week, they talk. And the next, and the next, until it becomes routine. Until it becomes something Jon looks forward to. Until he spends most nights in the woods, sat next to the lake and unraveling every facet of a man whose life is so much more than has been spelled out on paper.
And when the flashes of color begin to resolve into vibrant skin and hair and eyes and Martin begins to cry, Jon wraps his arms around a man who’s become solid once more and finds him warm.
#tma#tma fic#the magnus archives#tmafantasyweek#jonmartin#my fic#my writing#and that's it! ending the week with my most self-indulgent jmart yet#ft. skeptic jon and not-a-ghost martin
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Random Winter Headcanons!
It’s FECKING COLD where i live rn and im shivering in my room while envying my fat n’ fluffy cat’s fur coat, so... Have a smattering of random winter headcanons!
Winter is the least favorite season of a number of the Servamps, though the top contenders for “Fuck this season in particular” are Kuro and Jeje.
Lily is the only one who genuinely enjoys it, though he’s a tad annoyed that the nippy weather forces him to cover up. Misono, however, is grateful, even if he does have to put up with a near constant runny nose and Lily fussing over his health even more than usual
Since Jeje handles the cold particularly poorly thanks to being a reptile, Mikuni has taken to carrying Jeje in his coat pocket with one of those fancy reusable handwarmers stuffed in there with him. He claims it’s only because it’d be bad news if something happened and Jeje was too sluggish to protect him, but...
Mahiru goes with a different tactic and likes to place kitty Kuro in the front of his coat, carefully zipping it up so it doesn’t catch in his fur until only Kuro’s head is visible. The shared body heat ensures Kuro is nice and comfy, though he needs to be careful to not slip out the bottom of Mahiru’s coat they learned about that particular pitfall the hard way
Iduna is inhumanly immune to the cold and regularly shocks the people who know her by showing up in single layers, or even just outright coming to work in shorts despite there being snow on the ground outside. She gets scolded by Shuuhei a lot for doing this.
Freya has a surprisingly low tolerance for it in comparison and you can often find her bundled up to her ears, same as her Italian subclass. Despite how ridiculous she looks, people seem to avoid her even more than usual because all they can see of her are her eyes. It makes her sad lmao. Her spiced cider is literally the best.
More often than not, Licht is away from home for the holidays/his birthday, or else his parents are. He tries to act like it doesn’t bug him but Lawless has gotten quite good at reading his Eve’s moods and does his best to try and soften the sting where he can. Dragging Licht out to Tokyo’s Christmas Market was worth the kicks and yelling, just to see his Eve’s face light up once he realized what exactly was in front of his face. It wasn’t nearly as grand as the ones back home, but it was familiar, comforting, and showed a remarkable amount of forethought on Lawless’s part. After that point, it was Licht dragging Lawless around because he wanted to see and do and try everything.
Speaking of Lawless-- He knows a very old recipe for holiday meat pies that he pestered the cooks at Ophelia’s castle to teach him, as they were her favorite part of winter. He still remembers how to make them from scratch and ends up modifying the recipe to make mini ones to hand out to his siblings and their Eves per Krantz’s gentle encouragement. They’re delicious and he’s very picky about how they get made. Makes more work for himself, but he feels the end result is more than worth it. He’s considering selling them as a holiday special item at his Coffee Stand.
Mikuni is the kind of smug, insufferable bastard who refuses to make hot chocolate from a powder mix. Stove top or bust-- The recipe he uses is actually Lily’s and makes use of milk, vanilla, dutch cocoa powder, salt, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg... He prefers his with Almond Milk, because he’s a hipster like that. Making even powder mixes with water is tantamount to sacrilege to him.
Tsurugi’s always losing his gloves, scarves, hats, etc, and it drives Yumikage and Jun insane. One time they turned around after having spent the last ten minutes hunting down Takuto’s mittens to discover a sheepish Tsurugi without his. They wanted to kill him. Still helped him find them though
He’s far more careful with the knitwear Mahiru gifts him, with it’s soft yarn and sparkly, hand stitched lettering of “TK” in silver. It isn’t scratchy at all and nearly seems to be of professional quality, but even if it were the ugliest, most uncomfortable thing, he’d still treasure those clothing items just as much. Because Mahiru took the time to make something for worthless, money grubbing scum like him. His words, not mine
#kat's katerwauling#servamp#servamp headcanons#ah fuck here we go again#deep breath#Sleepy Ash#Snow Lily#servamp Kuro#All of Love#servamp Jeje#Doubt Doubt#Mikuni Alicein#Mahiru Shirota#Misono Alicein#iduna nobel#servamp freya#The Mother of Wrath#Servamp Hyde#Servamp Lawless#licht jekylland todoroki#Tsurugi Kamiya#I THINK THAT'S EVERYONE???#HALP#kat's meow
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Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung X Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Modern Magic AU, Fluff Warning: Language WC: 4K+
A/N: @svtxsoju HAPPY HOLIDAYS BINU!!! I know it’s a bit late but here you got <333 I wub you sooooo much and I hope you have a happy new year!! Also this is the last of my simper council holiday gifts so once the new year starts i’ll go back to working on my actual requests!
“That’ll be $24.78” The rather small vile in your hand held no more than 8mm of the shiny silver liquid. It was strange, and almost looked like glittery dish soap if you had no clue what you were looking at. It wasn’t a surprise to you when your customer gasped, shocked at how much such a small amount cost. His open palm slammed down harshly on the counter that separated the two of you.
“That’s ridiculous! Vetra’s shop was selling this for $10!” At his words, you wrapped your fingers around the small vial and pulled it away from him.
“Then go buy it at Vetra’s place, half the price for half the quality.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at the man’s attempt to have you lower your price. “Some of us actually put in the labor to make these potions, and I’ll be damned if I slaved over these vials just for some ass wipe to try and get me to dock my prices. So either buy this for $24, or get out of my shop.”
It might have seemed harsh, but you weren’t one to put up with bullshit. There were quite a few potion shops around town but very few actually made their own stock, many just buying it online and reselling it in a different container. Not you though, you put energy and so much magic into your work and you weren’t going to be haggled. At least not by some low rank vampire trash who thought he was better than everyone.
The male bared his fangs towards you, causing you to roll your eyes. Your free hand subtly reaching down below your register and grabbing a small pure silver dagger, just to prepare for a fight just in case. Vampires were usually the ones who tried to start something, so it was left there as a precaution for yourself and your employees.
The vampire growled, his eyes flickering over to a display of yours and you felt your heart sink. With a speed you could barely see the male had thrust his arm out, knocking the carefully put together display from the counter before he stormed out of the store.
“Get out of my way!” You heard him shout, shoving past a customer who was trying to enter the building.
You called out a small welcome as the door shut but didn’t bother to identify the new customer as you got to cleaning up. It wouldn’t be terrible but it was very annoying and exhausting. Placing your dagger back into its usual position before pulling your wand out of your back pocket.
“Novis Tempus” You muttered, flicking your wand into the direction of the mess now covering the linoleum floor of your shop. You felt the magic slip from your core, travel through your fingertips, down the mahogany of your wand and seeping out from the purples and blue of the fluorite perched at the end of your wand.
Your spell slipped through the air, a small light pink aura circling the mess that had spilled. Slowly it began to change. The liquid from the spilled vials slithered back into the glass, the shattered vials stitching themselves back together, and the wood from the broken standee returning to its rightful positions. It took a few seconds but you always loved watching as it happened, and soon your display was once again perched on the countertop where it had previously been standing.
Despite being a rather seasoned witch, the spell was advanced and took quite a bit of energy which left you rather exhausted. You were pretty grateful that your cover, a younger and much less experienced witch, named Christopher, would be arriving within the hour to take over so you could recoup the spent energy.
“Looks like I missed a party!”
The familiar voice instantly brought a grin to your face, your eyes flickering over to be greeted by the bright shining face of your favorite customer.
“Soonyoung! I thought you weren’t gonna make it in today, you’re later than usual.” You replied, making your way over to where you kept your...commissioned items. It was rare for you to get werewolves in here, most of their species didn’t really try to tone down their transformations, they enjoyed letting out their beast once a month. Not to mention how dangerous, time consuming, and expensive making a wolfsbane potion was, which definitely made them...one of your more pricey items that you would only make if requested, so most werewolves couldn’t afford it even if they wanted to. (though if someone was really desperate and you had the time you’d probably give them the first one for free. You’re not completely heartless.)
The male jutted out his lower lip at his words being ignored, it was kind of ridiculous how adorable he was when he pouted like that. Maybe that was why you poked his buttons like that, or at least the buttons you were aware of. Despite his monthly visits, you hadn’t tried to meet him outside of work before. A shame really.
As you crouched down to the bottom shelf where you kept requests, you heard the male start up. His voice always brought a smile to your face, his mood must just be contagious.
“I uhh missed my train?” Obviously a lie, but you weren’t going to point it out. After all, it wasn’t any of your business; he was just a customer. A very funny and endearing customer but a customer nonetheless.
Pulling out the large circular bottle, complete with a wooden cork shoved into the neck. The light blue liquid swirled in the glass with an almost eerie glow. You doubted that you would ever get used to the aura that the wolfsbane potion gave off. Bottle in hand, you returned to your register where Soonyoung stood with a small almost nervous grin on his face. Placing the bottle down on the marble countertop, you slid it forward with a single finger.
“Well, you better head out then, before you miss your train home.” You joked, watching as the tension seemed to drift away from him. At least he seemed more comfortable now. “Same thing for next month? Doing another early payment?”
You watched Soonyoung grab the fragile bottle and slide it snuggly into the backpack he was carrying (you were honestly surprised it survived the trip home considering how you’d seen the young man run.) As he did so, he pulled out the familiar pale blue wallet that he kept inside.
“As always! You already know my schedule so well!” He said happily, pulling out a bundle of cash and handing it over to you. “It’s on the 25th next month and I can come grab it on the 21st. Is that enough time?”
His question caused you a brief pause, filing through a mental category of your stock. You were almost out of moonstone after the last potion so you’d need to restock and then powder that, but nothing extreme so you confirmed this with a nod and a finalization of his payment.
“Well, I’ll see you next month then!” Considering this had been your routine for the past few months, you expected a small farewell before the bleach blond bounded from the store. So you pulled out your inventory book and began writing notes about his potion. Today was different though, as he lingered. You could feel his piercing eyes on you for a moment, just watching before he spoke up once more.
“I was...actually wondering if you were free anytime today?” You froze, your pen hovering over the parchment as your brain processed what had just been asked of you. Weighing the pros and cons of being honest with him, on one hand he was kind and you had just been thinking about what it would be like to actually befriend the male but on the other hand, this could have been a long game plan if he was some crazy killer. It was unfortunately, but you had to think of things like that, especially with the recent surge of missing persons cases.
“No pressure! I know it’s super weird and suspicious that I’m asking buuut, you’re pretty cool and I’d actually like to get to know you! Not to be a creep, but like as a friend.”
It was sweet, and the smile on his face was definitely inviting enough. So against your better judgement, you let out a small sigh.
“I get off at 5, think you can wait til then?”
If his neutral face was bright, then his cheerful one was blinding. His grin stretched from ear to ear and you watched as he pumped a fist into the air out of excitement. It was honestly really sweet and made your heart flutter that he was that excited to spend time with you outside of work.
“Yeah! I’ll hang around the district and come back when you’re off!” With that the male literally bounded out of your shop. As the door slammed shut behind him, silence surrounded you and couldn’t stop the joyful laughter from spilling from your lips.
You helped out a few more customers before Chris arrived, but once he did you quickly got to work on preparing to leave. Doing things like going over inventory, and rearranging some things that customers had decided to touch, with just a bit more pep in your step than usual. Which Chris definitely noticed.
“Someone’s in a hurry. Usually I have to push you out the door, just so you’ll go home and rest.” You had known Chris for a few years and he of course had seen right through you. Because of this you saw no reason to defend yourself.
“Yeah, you know that Werewolf regular?”
“Soonyoung?”
“Yeah, him. Well, he asked if I wanted to hang out after work,” You explained, trying to keep casual about the whole ordeal despite how excited you were. Finalizing your inventory check, you slid your work book back under the counter and when you stood up once more, Chris was smirking in your direction, rather smugly in fact. “What?”
“I was wondering when this was going to happen. He’s always making eyes at you whenever he comes in. It’s right cute.” He teased, and you were grateful that no one else was in the store to hear this. Feeling a heat rush to your face, you rolled your eyes at the male.
“Come off it Chris, He does not.”
“He does! He’s always like this!” He exclaimed, before quickly adjusting his position to show an example. Leaning one elbow on the counter he placed his cheek in his palm and just began staring at you with a sweetly intent look. You hated to admit it, but you had caught Soonyoung staring like that...once or twice, but you weren’t going to tell Chris that.
“Maybe you need to go get those eyes checked out, cause you’re seeing things.” You declared, slipping past him into the break room that was hidden past the door behind the counter. You almost cheered in relief as you heard the familiar bell ring through the store, signaling a new customer entering. Which meant that Chris wouldn’t be able to follow after you and the embarrassment would be over.
That was...not the case when you heard Chris’ cheerful voice greet the customer.
“Soonyoung! Nice to see ya! It’s been a while, you usually come in when I’m off.”
You mind blanked and you quickly got all of your belongings together, shoving your phone in your pocket before rushing out of the break room. Only to find Soonyoung and Chris laughing cheerfully as they spoke to one another. You almost let out a physical sigh of relief when you realized it was just a regular conversation and Chris hadn’t strayed the topic over to you.
When Soonyoung saw you though, his eyes lit up like it was some sort of holiday even though he had just seen you about an hour ago. Honestly, nothing had probably even changed about your appearance since then and yet he still looked at you like you...radiant.
“See ya later Chris, you have my number if anything happens. Don’t burn down the store!” The male in question quickly formed a mock salute that was almost as serious as a real one, if it weren’t for the intent purpose of making fun of you.
“Aye aye, Parental unit!”
Rolling your eyes, you gestured for Soonyoung to follow you and soon the two of you were gone. Off on an adventure that would be the first spark in a well lit fire.
***
When you left with Soonyoung, you were expecting the typical things that a guy does when he takes people out. What you got was...much different.
He started off by taking you to get a bite to eat, you were pretty hungry after your shift and so you were pretty grateful for that. The place was pretty small, a little mom and pop shop run by some friends of his named Seungkwan and Seokmin. If you thought Soonyoung was funny, then him with his two friends was absolutely hysterical, especially when he would tell stories of their adventures and imitate his two friends. (Seungkwan was not happy about that later part).
That’s when things took a turn.
Instead of a typical, let’s go see a movie, Soonyoung suggested a nearby gym area. Now it wasn’t really a ‘gym’, it was more of an entertainment location. It had things like rock climbings, a large number of trampolines, and even some feats of courage where you would try to jump from a singular platform to a large punching bag looking object while you were at least 20 feet off the ground (or at least that’s what it felt like once you were up there).
Which is currently where you were, harness strapped snuggly around you and a helmet placed firmly on your head. Eyes staring out at the large gap between you and your target, your hands pressing firmly against the cold metal of the pillar that you had just climbed up.
“Going to be completely honest, Soonie! I don’t think I got this!” You called out to the male who stood below with the service tech. He was suited up quite similarly as he was preparing to go right after you, but had dared you to try it first since you’d never been here before.
“I thought you were a witch, don’t witches fly?” He called back, confusion lacing his voice. It did provide a small laugh from you.
“Flying on a broomstick, and jumping crazy distances are two completely different things! I really don’t think I can do this!”
“Yes you can! Just scream Horanghae, it can take away all your fears!” He shouted back, earring him a rather confused look from you.
“Horanghae??”
“Horanghaaaaaae!” His voice almost tripled in volume as he confirmed the rather strange phrase, you probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he were like...a were-tiger, but he wasn’t. He was just full of surprises.
Taking a deep breath you heard him chant the phrase as you steeled yourself. With one last intake, you leaped forward with a loud scream of, what seemed to be, his favorite word. To your surprise, the distance was quite small once you were in the air and you latched onto the tube like a koala. Your was heavy and your heart was throbbing, but hearing Soonyoung go absolutely crazy below in excitement made it all worth it.
The two of you didn’t stay too much longer after that, going out into the now dark city. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten until you exited the building and were on your way to what Soonyoung was referring to as the ‘last bit’.
Now here you were, laying on your back in the middle of a park and staring up at the stars. Soonyoung was going on and on about the stars and these different constellations that his friend Wonwoo had shown him. It was...sweet, but you were only partially listening. You were conflicted, you really really liked him but...he was a customer. Wouldn’t it be weird to be crushing on a customer? Wouldn’t it?
“And that one is my favorite because it looks like a tiger! Isn’t it cool?”
Your eyes drifted over to him as he stared up at the night sky with those bright cheerful eyes that seemed to envelop your whole being with joy. His pale blonde hair gently brushed against his forehead with every small gust of wind. The light in his brown eyes was enchanting to see, and his smile...well it was radiant.
“Yeah...it’s beautiful.”
But you weren’t talking about the stars.
***
“And every time he’s around my heart is racing and It’s like all I can think about is him! Do you know how hard it is to help other customers when he comes into the store? It’s impossible.” It hadn’t been your intent to rant to Chris about Soonyoung, yet here you were. He had just asked if you were hanging out with the wolfman today and that sparked a 20 minute long tangent about the last 6 months that you had been spending with Soonyoung outside of work.
“You’re in love with him?”
“Chris you can’t just say the L word out loud!” You exclaimed, slapping a hand over Christopher’s mouth as if his words would call the male into the store. Chris rolled his eyes and peeled your hand off of his face before taking a grip on your shoulders.
“Just confess to him, it’s not like he doesn’t feel the same way. I swear you could dump boiling hot soup on his lap and he would thank you just because it’s you.” Chris declared, which was absolutely ridiculous. No one would thank someone for pouring soup on them, that was a dumb analogy.
You shrugged off his hands, and propped yourself up on the countertop since there were no customers in the store. Crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a frustrated groan as your gaze lifted to the ceiling.
“He’s still a customer, wouldn’t that be weird.” Out of the corner of your eye you could see Chris fixing you with a rather confused look. So you continued. “I mean, like what if he doesn’t like me and then it’s super awkward and he feels uncomfortable coming back into the shop? Not only would I just get to deal with a broken heart, but he could also like report us? Right? For like, being inappropriate?”
Chris snorted in disbelief at your ridiculous statement, so you turned your gaze to him and shot a glare in his direction.
“He wouldn’t report you, dumbo. I’m telling you, just go for it. You might be pleasantly surprised with his response.”
Before you could retort, claiming that Chris was being way too optimistic for his own good, the doorbell rang and the two of you turned to greet the new customer.
“Soonyoung! What a surprise, we were just talking about you!” Your heart sunk at Chris’ words, and you shot him a dirty look, jamming your elbow harshly into his side. Which caused him to let out a loud yelp as you greeted Soonyoung.
The male in question didn’t seem to notice anything was odd, and just beamed at the two of you as he sauntered up to the counter. The weight in your back pocket felt heavy as you watched him. It was a few days before his birthday and the two of you decided to hang out together since you wouldn’t be able to take the whole day off for his party (yes you were the boss, but it was just you and Chris and you weren’t gonna leave the poor guy alone all damn day. You weren’t heartless). He greeted Chris with a grin before turning his attention solely to you.
“Ready to head out?”
“Almost I’ve still got to fin-”
“Yup, they’re totally ready!” Chris exclaimed, shoving you towards the gap in the counter as he cut you off. “I’ve got everything under control here! Have fun kids!” Honestly it felt like he was your parent sending you off on your first date which made this all the more embarrassing.
Soonyoung seemed to notice the conflicting words and a bright laugh left his lips, his eyes slipping shut as his smile grew with his laughter. It only took a moment for him to recover and then extend his hand towards you, and without even thinking about it you took the offered hand. You could practically feel Chris’s eyes boring into your skull, the smug look on his face saying ‘i told you so’, as the two of you left the store.
You lead Soonyoung by the hand over to your car and he quickly climbed into the passenger side of the car. You followed much slower, pulling his gift out of your pocket before sliding into the drivers seat.
Not bothering to turn the car on yet, you turned to face him. The small black box held tightly in your hands, as if it were the only thing keeping you cemented in the moment. You almost wished you had taken one of those courage potions you sold, maybe you’d be less anxious right now, but you wanted this moment to be true to your feelings and the potion would have just muddled that up. Giving you a false sense of strength when you needed to find it on your own this time.
“Happy Birthday Soonie.” You flashed him a small smile, passing over the tiny box. He gasped and took it from you quickly, pulling open the lid to reveal a necklace. The cord was made of leather, which would be smoother to wear than a metal chain, and a gem at the center. A piece of Tiger’s eye with a shiny golden wire wrapped intricate around the stone which kept it in place.
“It’s not much but that’s a Tiger’s eye. It wards off negative energy, dispels fears, and helps bring good luck. I mean, it had more uses than that, those are just some of them. I figured it’d be good for you since you said you were worried about starting that new job, and it’s also a tiger’s eye and I know you really like tigers, and i like you so obviously i remembered that about you. “ You continued to ramble on as Soonyoung pulled the necklace out of the box and stared at it as if you had just gifted him the most priceless gem in the world. Your heart ached as you watched him slip the cord over his neck and turn to face you. Your heart sputtered as his eyes met yours and you felt yourself practically melt in your seat when he took your hand once more.
“Was that a confession I heard? You really like me? Like...like like me?” All at once you realized what you had done, Chris would never let you hear the end of this. It was probably the worst confession in the history of confessions.
You tore your gaze away, your eyes firmly planting on the sight of his hand gripping yours.
“I mean, yeah what’s not to like. You’re hilarious, sweet, and honestly really hot too. It’s almost ridiculous how perfect you are, and I jus-” You felt your words trail off as his free hand reached out and cupped your cheek, forcing you to look up at him once again. You almost completely combusted at the sight of his watching you as if you had hung the stars just for him.
“Would it be cheesy to say that cast a love spell on me.”
“Love spells are highly illegal.”
“Just let me be cheesy!” He pouted, but his eyes never lost that loving spark. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and you felt like time had completely come to a stand still. You knew what you wanted, and from what he said you were hopeful that he wanted the same thing.
“Soonyoung, will you...kiss me?” As soon as the question left your lips, he had taken them with his own. It was like something clicked into place as he kissed you, his lips pressing firmly against your own as his hand slid to gently grip the back of your neck. Everything was perfect, he was perfect.
When the moment passed, he pulled away and let out a laugh.
“Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever.”
#caratwritersclub#kdiner#kdiarynet#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenario#svt x reader#svt imagine#svt scenario#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung imagine#soonyoung scenario#hoshi x reader#hoshi imagine#hoshi scenario
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A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)
Title: A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian
Summary:
Just as Hua Cheng once gave him a ring to pledge him his life, Xie Lian gives Hua Cheng a ring to pledge him his hole.
Link: AO3
Read on Tumblr!
--
Xie Lian was going into this birthday prepared. He had a plan in his head, a wish in his heart, and many thoughts cursing his dick.
--
This plan, this wish, this curse; it all started one fateful morning about a month ago. You see, the married life came with innumerable pleasures, and one of these was the comfort of a regular morning routine. Summarized, and truncated for length, it went a little like this:
Step 1: Wake up.
Step 2, Scenario A: San Lang pretending to be asleep, and refusing to break character until Xie Lian provided anywhere between seven to ten morning kisses.
Step 2, Scenario B: San Lang already awake, and distributing morning kisses to Xie Lian’s lips, neck, cock, and other such body parts that would benefit from the application of his tongue.
Step 3: The irrepressible cosmic consequence of either scenario outlined above.
Step 4, Scenario A: San Lang big spoon.
Step 4, Scenario B: Xie Lian big spoon.
Step 5: Helping each other wash, dress, and get ready for the day.
With Step 1 through Step 4, Scenario B completed, Xie Lian was helping his husband get ready before he had to scurry off to do a few errands. Check on the vegetable garden at the shrine, draw up a few new charms, pop over to the village’s market to see if there were any deals on, put an end to the demon who’d taken up residence in the hills two towns over and who was demanding maiden sacrifices…Xie Lian of course would answer the cries of those in need, but he did wonder, at times, why people were calling upon the God of Scrap-Collecting to slay evil (or at least rough up evil, followed by a stern talking-to). Shouldn’t they be calling upon him for blessings in happening upon excellent and thrifty finds? Ah, well. Always in service of the people.
The lacquered black comb sank thickly into Hua Cheng’s hair, and slid through like a ship through water. Silver chimed with the motions of Xie Lian’s arm. Lately, he’d taken to warming up Hua Cheng’s silver accessories before helping his husband put them on…underneath his sleeping robe, against his bare skin, he was currently sporting one of Hua Cheng’s heavy necklaces and silver belts. Xie Lian never liked the initial cold shock of jewelry against his skin when he was young; brief as the feeling was before his body heat warmed the metal, it was a petty annoyance he always dreaded each morning while still cranky and disoriented from sleep. His poor San Lang had no such respite, with his body’s ghostly chill. Thus, Xie Lian wanted to save his husband such an unpleasantness before a long day of managing his city.
There was, of course, the minor matter that Hua Cheng tended to wear quite a lot of accessories. (And he seemed to only be expanding this tendency after Xie Lian took up the warming habit.) After the necklace and belt were taken care of, he still needed to warm up the bracelets and rings (unthinkable to wear those while tending to San Lang’s beautiful hair), then the earrings and hair accessories, and then the vambraces; these were tricky, and required one-on-one attention. The silver butterflies nesting within the vambraces got excited very easily when Xie Lian touched their home, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d have an armful of butterflies and no vambrace to warm up.
Xie Lian could very easily spend the whole day at this, though his schedule didn’t allow it. Distracted by the movement of the comb through Hua Cheng’s hair, distracted by the low sounds of pleasure Hua Cheng made when Xie Lian absently ran his fingers through the strands, Xie Lian reached out to fumble for one of the many nearby jewelry boxes. Rings, San Lang did need rings to wear with his choice of ensemble today…
Xie Lian’s questing hand came back with a ring; that it was a ring was no question. But…Xie Lian’s brow furrowed as he examined it, turning it this way and that, the silver glinting in the bedroom light. Beautiful, with delicate engravings of blooming flowers across its surface, the quality silver thick and heavy in his palm. But this ring was much too large for his San Lang’s elegant, slender fingers, was it not? Though Xie Lian’s hands were smaller, they weren’t that much smaller, and he could fit both his thumbs inside it easily…
“Gege,” Hua Cheng purred, allowing his hair to fall over his shoulder in an alluring and altogether deliberate manner. “Did you find something you’d particularly like to see me in today?”
Hua Cheng’s gaze fell on the ring that Xie Lian was examining, and his confident, sly expression dropped all at once. His hand twitched, then fisted in his robes; as if he wanted to snatch away the ring but didn’t dare do so. Xie Lian blinked, confused.
“Is this a ring that San Lang wears while in a different skin?” Xie Lian asked. “It’s lovely, but seems much too big for San Lang’s…fing…er…”
Xie Lian trailed off, and the truth of the matter took root in his mind as his cheeks began to burn with a familiar heat. And oh, did those roots find eager and fertile soil.
Now, Xie Lian was inexperienced in bedroom matters, this much was true. But he was not stupid, and he also knew what his husband’s dick looked like at this point. This ring was indeed too large for Hua Cheng’s slender and elegant fingers. But it was just the right size to fit around the base of Hua Cheng’s thick, heavy cock.
“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng croaked. “This one apologizes for leaving such an item in—”
“This is a cock ring,” Xie Lian murmured, as if in a trance state, approaching a level of enlightenment not yet seen.
Hua Cheng’s physical form briefly flickered; hearing His Highness say such words so bluntly, with such an irresistibly flushed face, was very much like being struck by a divine force, staggering in its power. He took a deep breath to regain control of himself, and nodded.
“Yes,” Hua Cheng admitted. “This one is much ashamed to not be able to please His Highness as he deserves, on some nights. I crafted such a crude instrument in hopes that it would help with control, but it still is not up to the task, nor is it worthy of the honor of being used in His Highness’ bed…”
Xie Lian was brought back to reality long enough to refute such a self-abasing statement.
“San Lang always pleases me!” Xie Lian stated firmly. It wasn’t always about lasting for hours! It was about both of them enjoying the experience! First off, his San Lang lasted a perfect amount of time; secondly, even when he did come too fast, it just meant that Xie Lian had that much more come in him, and one of Xie Lian’s primary goals in his immortal life now was to be filled with as much of Hua Cheng’s come as physically possible. And if Xie Lian had to wait hours each time before Hua Cheng would finally come inside…
…but perhaps it was about the challenge. This was something a (formerly) martial god could understand. This was something that could overcome Xie Lian’s shyness, could reach deep within him and seize him by the heart and make him rise to the occasion. The buildup of his husband’s frustration and need, the challenge of overcoming the restriction of the ring, of riding Hua Cheng and filling him with so much pleasure that he would burst forth and break through – just as Hua Cheng had once done to free him from the bonds of his cursed shackles. (But like, with less dying afterwards. And with waaaaaay more come filling up Xie Lian’s insides.) Yes. Yes, this was a challenge Xie Lian was ready to help his San Lang face. They would do it together.
“I’m going to borrow this,” Xie Lian said. “Is that okay?”
“…as it pleases His Highness,” Hua Cheng replied, with no little confusion.
He’d find out soon enough.
--
Xie Lian worked tirelessly, during every free moment, to perfect this most important of spiritual relics: the Incorruptible Chastity Cock Ring. Although last year’s birthday present proved that his sewing skills left something to be desired (and his dear, sweet husband still insisted on wearing that ridiculous belt any chance he got), his metalworking skills, again, proved much more polished. Polished enough to make this ring even more of a sight to behold.
He’d amassed enough followers, and enough donations, to permit him to spend on sourcing quality metal for the project – he of course would not dip into Hua Cheng’s own art supplies, nor his purse. Though both were open to him at all times, that was hardly the spirit meant for a birthday gift! And thus, with silver that was not dug up out of his own grave this time, he’d set to work.
The expertly engraved ring now sported four fine silver chains, from which many chiming seed-shaped silver beads dangled. These silver chains were meant to drape alluringly across Hua Cheng’s muscular thighs and lean hips, and chime with every movement. The chains could be attached to any of Hua Cheng’s silver belts, which Xie Lian considered a very clever foresight on his own behalf. It would be very convenient, this way. (Though it would, of course, mean that a bit of warming up would be needed before he could dress San Lang for the occasion.)
The day of Hua Cheng’s birthday came, and the rush of adrenaline that was warding off Xie Lian’s shyness was beginning to wear off. What was he doing, presenting his husband with such a gift!? My darling, my one and only, my San Lang, here’s a cock ring that you made yourself because you come too fast in bed. Happy birthday! But Xie Lian tried to remember the goal here, the challenge, the pursuit of excellence. Those who ascended were ones who were capable of seeing beyond the limits of what was thought impossible. And Xie Lian so loved dressing Hua Cheng up before a hard day of work.
The moment the midnight hour struck, Ghost City was bright with cheers and fireworks. When Hua Cheng next stepped out of his residence, he would be greeted with a thousand congratulations and well-wishes: Lord Chengzhu, happy birthday!
Great Lord Mayor, happy eight-hundred-twenty-third! If’n I could count that high, I’d lop off the hands of eight hunn’erd twenny third sinners and deck these streets with ‘em!
What a waste of hands! Ya know you can fry those up, doncha!? Or sell them to tourists!
And an occasion such as this calls fer decadence! Like scattering hands all over the streets!! But, for now, Xie Lian had Hua Cheng all to himself.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered into his ear, before kissing it. “Happy birthday. Would you like to open your present?”
Such an offer was a surefire way to get Hua Cheng to stop pretending to be asleep. In an instant, Xie Lian was tackled onto his back on the bed, and pinned in place by the press of Hua Cheng’s lean body and the insistent lips against his own.
“Gege is too kind,” Hua Cheng sighed between kisses. “Too generous. For days I’ve been thinking of nothing but the birthday dinner you promised me, and now gege is telling me that he’s got more gifts up his sleeves?”
Seizing upon the opportunity provided by the wording, Hua Cheng’s greedy hands snuck up the sleeves of Xie Lian’s sleeping robes, squeezing and groping at his arms as he went. The right idea, but the wrong direction…
“It’s…um…” Xie Lian trailed off, his cheeks flaring red. He had a planned script for this. Something about a ring for a ring, sweets for the sweet. The lines were lost to him now. But the intent certainly was not.
Slowly, shyly, Xie Lian slid a hand down the front of his own robes. Hua Cheng’s eye followed the movement raptly, and his touch grew heavier on Xie Lian’s bicep. Taking a moment to steel his courage, Xie Lian ran his fingers along the tie of his robe once, twice, before tugging at it to loosen it and let his robes slip open.
“I wanted to make sure it was warm enough for San Lang to wear comfortably,” Xie Lian explained softly.
Silver glinted through the part of his robe. One of Hua Cheng’s silver belts hung around Xie Lian’s hips, flush against his bare skin. Chiming silver chains dangled from it, leading the eye downward to where they joined at that thick, heavy engraved silver ring. It really was much too big for one’s finger, and still a bit too big for Xie Lian’s own cock. He feared it looked a bit silly – even half-hard as he was, it was clear that there was no way he’d fill it out. Of course, Hua Cheng would have no trouble.
Hua Cheng stared openly, blatantly; hungrily and open-mouthed. His grip on Xie Lian’s bicep was bruising.
“…Your Highness,” he eventually managed to say. His voice was low and raw enough to send a shiver through Xie Lian’s limbs, to make those silver beads chime with the motion of his bare legs sliding against the silk sheets. “Your graciousness knows no bounds. This humble follower doesn’t deserve such a magnificent gift.”
Xie Lian took Hua Cheng’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks between his palms. He leaned in to press a kiss between Hua Cheng’s brows.
“My husband,” he murmured against Hua Cheng’s skin, his breath warm. “Deserves many such magnificent things.”
The kiss that followed was deep and slow, and full of a wet heat that took Xie Lian from half-hard to fully rigid. The ring still slid off with ease, though Hua Cheng’s fingers were so careful and gentle and slow in their ministrations to remove it that Xie Lian could have cried (or laughed, really) in frustration. Hua Cheng was equally slow and deliberate while undoing the belt tied around Xie Lian’s waist, taking his time, dipping his fingers underneath the belt while he worked to feel the heat radiating off Xie Lian’s abdominals.
“San Lang,” groaned Xie Lian.
Hua Cheng chuckled weakly, and kissed Xie Lian’s throat in recompense. “Gege’s patience is appreciated. I have to wait for my blood to cool before I can wield his gift.”
Xie Lian blinked, curious. “Oh? Is that how it works? Much ashamed, I’ve not much experience. But that does make sense, considering the intent…”
It was Hua Cheng’s turn to groan, and he punctuated it with a dramatic collapse into the pillows next to Xie Lian’s head.
“Gege is not helping with the blood cooling,” Hua Cheng grumbled, with affection clear in the accusation.
“My sincerest apologies,” Xie Lian replied, not sorry at all.
It took some long, painfully and deliciously slow minutes – drawn out by their refusal to stop kissing for the duration – before Hua Cheng’s cock softened enough to slide the ring on. Xie Lian, too, went slowly, carefully, guided by Hua Cheng’s slightly-trembling fingers and the glide of oil to ease any discomfort. When the work was done, Xie Lian squirmed out from under Hua Cheng to survey his handiwork.
His San Lang looked so lovely. The sheen of the oil on his cock, the glinting silver decorating the thick base and draping artfully across his strong thighs. The delicate chimes looked ticklish against his balls; Xie Lian reached out a hand to brush his knuckles against the velvety soft skin there and was rewarded by a delicious groan and squirm.
Oh, before he forgot…there was indeed one more surprise that Xie Lian had for the birthday boy. When he’d set to work on this precious spiritual tool, he’d added some features...
Xie Lian traced both hands along the silver chains, and they shivered with spiritual energy. Hua Cheng wore a priceless expression of shock on his face for a brief moment as he felt the pulse of energy, but had no further opportunity to react before the cock ring itself pulsed once, twice, thrice, more. It continued to pulse around Hua Cheng’s cock in time with the racing beat of Xie Lian’s heart. With each pulse, Hua Cheng’s hips jerked upward involuntarily; with each jerk, those silver chimes rang melodiously. Hua Cheng’s mouth hung open wordlessly, his eye glazed with pleasure that stole his sight and sense.
Very convenient, indeed. Xie Lian could probably just leave him like this and go about his daily errands, secure in the thought that his husband would be waiting for him in bed at home, desperate for relief after hours of tension that threatened to snap him in two. But that wouldn’t be particularly kind to do to him today. The birthday boy would have his release in due time, with only as much teasing as Xie Lian could bear.
“Did I warm it up well enough for San Lang’s comfort?” Xie Lian asked, stretching himself out along Hua Cheng’s side as he jerked and twitched. He stroked his palm along Hua Cheng’s lovely pectorals, down his stomach. He pressed the back of his hand to the silver belt to test its temperature. Xie Lian hmmed thoughtfully and moved to toy with one of the silver chains. “I suppose it’s still a bit chilly. Will you ever forgive me?”
“H…Hhh-highne…ssss…” Hua Cheng managed to slur out, then let out an animalistic moan as the pulses around his cock grew in intensity. Xie Lian made a comforting noise, and kissed Hua Cheng’s temple soothingly. His poor San Lang. It couldn’t be helped; the cock ring’s pulses were tied to Xie Lian’s heartbeat, and there was no controlling that when he was with Hua Cheng.
Xie Lian decided, there and then, that it was time to test the integrity (and the Incorruptible Chastity) of this spiritual artifact. He’d prepared himself before waking Hua Cheng; he thanked himself profusely for this foresight, as he doubted he had the patience to do it now and could hardly ask Hua Cheng to do all the work today. He already had enough to deal with right now.
Hua Cheng’s hands, previously fisted in the silk bedsheets in a vain attempt at controlling himself, flew to seize Xie Lian’s waist as Xie Lian moved to straddle him. Any protests died in his throat as the tip of his cock pressed into Xie Lian’s entrance, already warm and willing and ready. Xie Lian sighed in relief at the stretch and the fullness, and bounced and wriggled his hips until Hua Cheng’s cock was in him fully. He could feel the slight coolness of the silver ring against the rim of his hole, could feel the pulsations of the ring inside and out. Xie Lian gave a full-body shiver, and almost absentmindedly lifted the crystal ring around his neck up to his lips to kiss. The gesture grounded him, it soothed him, it—
“Your Highness…”
The warning growl of that title came too little, too late. Driven mad by the beat of Xie Lian’s heart and the burning heat of his body, Hua Cheng’s grip on Xie Lian’s waist became completely ungentle. His fingers gripped with bruising force, and he bounced Xie Lian on his cock with harsh, fast motions; endlessly chasing a release that would not come, to the tune of chiming silver chains. He pounded as deep into him as he could reach, and seemed as if he could hardly stand having even an inch of him not inside. It was all Xie Lian could do to hold onto Hua Cheng’s shoulders, to hold himself steady even as his thigh muscles began to burn with the strain, to let Hua Cheng fuck into him and use his body as a tool for his pleasure.
The first time Xie Lian came, it only left him hungry for more. The fifth time left him lying limp and slack, sprawled on his back as Hua Cheng’s cock continued to relentlessly fuck him, in and out, with no signs of stopping or slowing. Xie Lian’s insides ached to be soothed by the rush of Hua Cheng’s come. After the eighth time, with his face now pressed into a pillow and Hua Cheng’s cock still tirelessly pumping his prone body, chimes still jingling as brightly and eagerly as they had at the start, Xie Lian himself began to beg for that as well.
“S-s-sssan Lang…” Xie Lian could hardly get the words out, his tongue felt thick and heavy and useless in his mouth. “S-san Lang, need…need it…”
Hua Cheng moaned against Xie Lian’s neck, and briefly paused in his efforts to cover every inch of it with bite marks and hickies. His mouth moved to Xie Lian’s ear; biting it once before he spoke into it, sounding rich and low and just as wrecked as Xie Lian.
“Anything His Highness needs, anything, anything, I’ll give it – mnnnhh, mmm – oh, Your Highness, Your Highness is so good to me, so good to this San Lang…mmh, feels so perfect inside, does it feel as good for gege? Is he ready to come again for me?”
Xie Lian let out a desperate moan as Hua Cheng expertly adjusted his angle to aim his thrusts against that spot inside of him. He wouldn’t last much longer, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay conscious for round ten. And Hua Cheng still hadn’t come even once inside of him – Xie Lian could endure many hardships, but this was too much, too much!
“San Lang! I want it, I want that!” Xie Lian wailed with the desperation of a dying man. “Ah-ahhhh, I need it, I need you to give it all to me, please, please, won’t you please – ohh! Please, please have mercy, San Lang-gege, please have mercy and fill me up…”
Xie Lian’s heart was racing like a parade drum. He could only imagine the mayhem being wrought upon his husband’s dick by the cock ring’s enchantment. But he trusted his husband – he trusted him to break through, break through with him and see the limits of the highest heavens –
Hua Cheng let out a shout and a shockwave of spiritual energy strong enough to blow back the curtains on the bed, and released into Xie Lian enough come that Xie Lian felt his stomach grow taut with it. He felt his eyes roll back into his head, and let himself pass out midway through his ninth orgasm.
His conscious mind swam back after some time, and he found himself bundled against Hua Cheng’s strong chest. Morning was just breaking outside the window, but today was a day for sleeping in. Xie Lian breathed in his husband’s scent and let himself be lulled back to sleep. He still had to make that birthday dinner today, and needed to regain his strength.
--
“Oh? Did something happen out here?”
While things were stewing, Xie Lian needed to make a quick run to the market to pick up some supplies he’d forgotten. Outside of Paradise Manor, he found Yin Yu with a broom, sweeping a path through the severed hands that had been scattered on the road outside. If Xie Lian were to make a rough estimate, there were approximately eleven hundred sixty-seven of them. There was also a crudely written banner hung in the blossoming trees on the roadside, that read: HAPPAY BARTH DAY LARD CHENGZHU.
“They do try, don’t they?” Xie Lian said to Yin Yu, fondly. “Once I’m back from the market, I’ll help you clean up out here.”
“They do try,” Yin Yu agreed. “And no, no, Your Highness has business to attend to.”
Xie Lian smiled and gave a grateful bow. “Your Highness Yin Yu is welcome to join us for dinner. I’ll save some stew for him! Please don’t hesitate to drop by later.”
Yin Yu watched as Xie Lian expertly stepped around the hands littering the streets, then disappeared into the bustle of the Ghost City market. He gave a deep, resigned sigh and returned to sweeping.
--
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winter prompt fill 29, indruck, sfw?
29. i should’ve done my shopping a month ago but now i’m running around last minute and when i enter your store, i’m absolutely frazzled. help me.
(Pinecone is borrowed from harrisonator’s fic “Monster Mash”)
Working at Kepler Petco isn’t the worst thing, even during the holiday shopping hellscape months. It’s not like anyone is getting in fistfights over cases of Fancy Feast. Which is why, on the 22nd of December, Duck is unprepared for the sudden sound of hands on hitting the countertop.
“I need help.” The guy’s about his age, silver hair going patchy black near the top, pink and white striped sweater around his neck and a massive sweater hanging off his lanky frame. His red glasses barely conceal brown, anxious eyes.
“Sure, what’re lookin for?”
“Rat treats, the kind that won’t make them ill.”
“Can handle that, right this way.” Duck leaves the counter and leads the guy back to the small mammal section. As they go the man spins a ring on his index finger, flushing under the merciless heating vents.
“I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance. I have a mountain of things to do today and your store closes first.”
Duck glances at the AKC branded clock on the wall, which shows 12:30 p.m, “We close at five.”
“Yes, I know, but I really cannot overstate how behind I am on my Christmas shopping. Or, well, holiday is more accurate, since Joseph celebrates Hanukkah, which means I’m already late on that.” He sighs, runs a finger with chipped black nails through his hair.
“Big family?” Duck points to the row of snacks, grabs the man a basket from the end of the aisle when he starts piling them into his arms.
“Lots of friends. We’re having a party tomorrow and I completely forgot about it until today. I know it’s ridiculous to forget about a holiday where you can’t turn around without being slapped with a reminder of it, but my brain doesn’t always work in the way I’d like it to.”
“No judgement here. Once forgot my sisters birthday until the minute my mom asked if I could get some candles for the cake after school.”
“Oh dear.” The man smiles, the expression shifting from odd to shy when Duck meets his eyes, “thank you for your help.”
Five minutes later the guy heads towards the register, then stops, backtracking to the display of rats, mice, and hamsters. Duck joins him in case he has questions, and to steal another look at his singular features. They’re not handsome on the surface, but something about them draws his eye back over and over. He’s just in time to hear the man cooing to a pair of brown rats.
“...so lovely, aren’t you just charming? If I could I’d take you home but space is limited. Oh” he blushes when he sees Duck, “I’m, ah, ready to pay now.”
“One of your friends got rats?” He indicates the pile of treats the man is buying.
“Hmm? Oh, no, these are for Luna and Emperor, my rats. I wanted to get them presents too.”
Duck can’t decide if the fact the guy prioritized spoiling his pets on the day he had to buy a bunch of gifts is adorable or worrying.
“As I said, I came here because you close first. And I, ah, I like spoiling them. It’s nice to know exactly how to cheer another living thing up.”
“I get that. Pinecone, that’s my, uh, my cat, gets more treats a month than I do.”
“Someone ought to buy you a few, then.” The man murmurs, handing over his debit card.
Duck, caught up in the mechanics of fighting with the card reader, doesn’t realize he’s being flirted with until the man is no more than a silver head merging into the throng outside.
He’s lowkey annoyed with himself the rest of the day; he’s been in the market for a cute guy, and while his mystery shopper may not be Ryan Gosling, but Duck wouldn’t mind getting his number.
Since he opened today, he gets off at three, decides to swing by Crate and Barrel in case the apron he thinks Barclay might like. There’s small hallways dotted through the mall, leading to exits or to backrooms. As he passes one, he gets a glimpse of silver hair and a vibrant scarf. That’s the only good part of what he sees; the man from earlier is pressed close to the shiny wall, trying and failing to get his breathing order.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
He jolts, registers who’s speaking, and looks at the ground, “N-not really. I, part of the reason put this off so long is I can get incredibly overwhelmed in crowds sometimes, and yes I know that makes coming here three days before Christmas even worse an idea but I thought maybe I could handle it, but I’ve only managed to buy two of the gifts I need because I cannot focus with everything going on and, and I’m sorry, here I wanted to charming around you and now you’ve seen this and-”
“What would help?”
“I, I’d like to go somewhere quiet, but there’s nowhere, even the bathrooms are packed.”
“Do you, uh, want to come sit in my car for a bit? I can run the heater so we don’t freeze.”
“That’s really alright?” The question is so small and vulnerable he wants to tuck it into a shoebox to keep it safe.
“Yeah. C’mon, I’m parked on this end.”
It’s snowing on and off as they walk to his car, and as he gets it running and turns on the heat his passenger finally pulls his clenched hands from his pockets; one holds a fidget cube, the other a very small, plush moth.
“I tried so hard to prepare for every possible future.” Is what he gets as explanation. The man sets both items in his lap and shuts his eyes, breathing slowly in and out. Duck says nothing, opens his phone and plays two rounds of Plants vs. Zombies before he hears anything at all from beside him.
“Would you mind turning the radio on, at a low volume?”
“Any requests?” Duck hits the power button.
“No talk radio.”
“Can manage that.” He fiddles around and finds the alternative station. Even it has Christmas songs interspersed with the usual mix.
“Is your name really Duck?”
He wonders if the guy is omnipotent until he remembers his nametag.
“It’s a nickname.”
“I’m Indrid.” He opens his eyes, “thank you for letting me come here to calm down. I may actually manage to succeed in my quest now. It’s so hard, I actually enjoy being out around the lights, the feeling of so many people being happy or trying to do kind things for each other. But it’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially when I’m alone.”
“Would it help if you weren’t?”
“Possibly, but I couldn’t ask you to spend even more time in that mall given you work there.”
“Got some last minute shoppin to do myself. Besides, if you get stuck on a gift, I’m pretty damn good at comin up with ideas.”
“Thank you.” Indrid smiles, excited, and that settles it: Duck is asking for his number after this.
They brave the crowds and the holiday cheer blaring across the speakers once more. The first stop is a store selling housewares, including a pair of small succulents that Indrid deems worthy of giving a friend as he listens to Duck talk about his part time job at the National Forest, laughing when Duck mentions last weeks run-in with a pissed-off migratory bird.
The next few stores are no help, and they opt to take advantage of the lull between when people are done with school and when people are done with work to hit up the coffeeshop, Indrid ordering a white chocolate peppermint mocha and promptly getting whipped cream on his nose. Duck is tempted to kiss it off, settles for handing his new friend a napkin while he talks about his recent return to Kepler after traveling around the country in a Winnebago, selling his art at shows. As luck would have it, the store has a shelf devoted to artisan or local coffees, and they’re each able to find one for someone on their list.
Macy's proves more treacherous, and once five o’ clock hits even Duck is feeling cramped. Indrid is tensing, his replies getting short or far off, and just as Duck is about to offer to dip out again, chilly fingers link with his own.
“Is this alright?”
“Better than alright.” He grins and Indrid holds tighter, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth as Duck guides them into a less crowded corner. The do eventually find some high quality hiking socks that Indrid buys, only letting go of Duck in order to pay.
They reward themselves with dinner at Johnny Rocket, Duck hopping over to Indrid’s side of the booth to see pictures of Emperor and Luna, and show off the photos he has of Pinecone hiding under his ranger jacket.
“One more stop, thank goodness.” It’s going on seven and Duck has to say he agrees; he loves being around Indrid, but his feet are killing him and he’s had “Jingle Bells” stuck in his head for an hour.
Indrid’s last item is at Crate and Barrel, and Duck laughs when the other man goes straight to the aprons.
“You got good taste, I’m gettin’ one of these too. Barclay said he needed a new one.”
A fine-boned hand freezes mid-reach, “Did you say Barclay?”
“Yeah?”
“I am also buying this for a Barclay. Is your Barclay, by chance, dating someone named Joseph and hosting a party tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
They stare at each other, frozen long enough that another shopper passes between them. Then they double over in sync, Duck wheezing out a laugh while Indrid cackles.
“Holy shit, we’ve been shoppin for the same folks!”
“Barclay mentioned there’d be new people at the party but I never thought one of them would be such a catch.”
Duck gets his breathing in order, steps across the faux-hardwood and takes Indrid’s hand.
“Hey, Indrid? You wanna be my date to the party tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
“....wait, fuck, which one of us is gonna give him the apron?”
“You can, I have another idea for him. Consider it an early present from me.” Indrid tease.
“Sugar,” Duck slips his hands into Indrid’s back pockets, smiling up at him, “you might just be all the present I need.”
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Snippet One
These are fics I need motivation on...so you get snippets
Glee and Criminal minds crossover
Spencer had only managed to set their base photos out and lay a bit of basic info onto the table in front of the first board before a small knock sounded outside the door.
“Excuse me,” a soft voiced asked from the doorway. “Officer Phillips told me I could find the people who came in from the FBI back here? Do you know if they are here yet?”
Spencer turned towards the soft voice and was surprised at who was actually standing in the doorway. First, despite the high voice, which Spencer had first assumed belonged to either a young lady or a much younger person the person in the doorway was a guy, a guy in his mid-teen at least. The grey coat and the purple scarf weren’t exactly highly masculine cut, but Spencer, contrary to popular belief, knew enough to know that both were rather high end designer items. The young man looked exactly that though, young…and nervous. He was fingering the strap of his bag and rocking on his heels.
“Yes,” Spencer answered, with a sigh. “This is where we are set up.”
The boy raised his eyebrows at Spencer. “You’re an FBI agent?”
Spencer raised his right back. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
The boy chuckled. He looped the bag off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Then he looked around for a coat stand before he started to remove his grey coat. Spencer gasped at the boy and blurted out “What the hell happened to you?”
The boy looked down and sighed. His grey sweater and white skinny jeans were more red and blue than their original colors. The boy took his coat to the coat stand and carefully hung it up as he started to talk. “Slushies six and seven. It’s been a long day. This is actually outfit five. FIVE! I will never be able to get the red out of this sweater either, since I had to sit through a whole class before even being allowed enough time to try to do anything about it! At least the teacher let me wash my face, but look at my hair! I’ll be lucky if it hasn’t stained. I really hate Mr. Lurch, and yes, that really is his last name. It’s not like ten minutes lost from AP World History would make it so I flunk. I am absolutely certain I hold the highest grade in there. Of course, most shouldn’t even be in an AP class, so that doesn’t say much. And even though I’m like the only one who knows what the man is talking about, ever, he only calls on me when he has exhausted all other options. ” Spencer smiled a little as the boy spoke. His hands were in motion the whole time and he had a gracefulness about his movements that Spencer enjoyed watching. Spencer pulled a chair over from the other table and set it to the side of the one he’d been sitting in while pouting. The boy kept speaking as Spencer worked.
“So my mood was not the best anyway. I was completely infuriated when I started to head home after I was informed by the principal, who watched these last two slushy attacks happen, that I could not stay at school because the representatives from Lady Margret’s were expected at any moment and I was simply no longer dressed as a good representative from McKinley and I needed to remove myself, taking the half day of absences, from the school grounds at once. Before lunch mind you, before lunch.”
The boy was ranting now; Spencer recognized the hand on the hips and quick speech. However Spencer also figured the boy needed the outlet, so let him continue.
“Granted, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to leading around any of the members of Lady Margret’s student council, because last year one of the girls who visited in our Science class was just plain rude, and that is saying something considering I go to McKinley and nearly everyone there is awful. But still it was somewhat of an honor escorting that student council around, supposedly, so it would have been nice to actually have been able to do so. I almost suspect Miss Rachel Berry to have orchestrated this last round of slushies, because now she gets to be the escort and she’d been complaining about not getting the privilege for a week and half… but I have been telling myself since slushies six and seven that there is no way she would stoop so low, and besides, it was Azimio and Rick the Stick and I don’t think she dares even speak to either for fear they’d get her first. Of course, I also suspect the honor was originally granted because I am one of the few who can actually afford to miss a few classes without my grades reflecting a missed class and not because anyone actually wanted me to talk to anyone from any other school. Rachel, in all her glory, is involved in a ridiculous amount of clubs and can’t miss too many more class hours, really.” The boy paused for a moment and looked around, noting the table on the far side of the room had piles of papers and such on it and the end of the table the chairs were at had boxes that were opened lined up. “Can I set my bag here or will that be an issue later?”
Spencer smiled. He was pleased the boy had thought and asked before acting. “If we keep things to this end it will be fine. It’d be better if you sat on the chair I pulled over. The one across from me is not very sturdy sounding.”
“Thank you.” The boy’s smile was exquisite. The boy walked back to the doorway and picked up his bag, continuing talking as he did so. “Anyway... just as I was leaving the parking lot, Chip called. So all in all, it actually turned out …well, rather perfect.”
“Perfect?” Spencer asked. He settled himself back into the chair he’d been pouting in earlier.
“Yes,” The boy said, “because even though no one wants to meet real life FBI agents looking like this in the long run it was a good thing, because frankly, I didn’t want to end up having to sneak in or skip school, or something else like that---things that were likely to get me grounded, just to see you guys.”
“Grounded?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. The Sheriff? He hates me, honestly hates me.” The boy looked Spencer up and down, had they been anywhere else Spencer would have accused the young man of checking him out. “He probably won’t like you, either. Sorry. Are you sure you are a FBI agent? And if you are, why are you dressed like that? That look does absolutely nothing for you. We could do so much better.”
Spencer sighed.
“SSA Dr. Spencer Reid.” Spencer stood and offered his hand. The boy’s hands were even slightly stained red. “How did you even know we were coming?”
“Kurt Hummel. It is a pleasure to meet you, don’t get me wrong. It’s just; you dress more like ‘absentminded college professor’ and not like what I’ve always thought FBI agents would look like. And, I was not thinking ‘men in black’, as hot as that would be in real life. More like regular suits…maybe nice ties…or maybe even less formal jeans you can move fast in and Henley shirts, kind of a rugged look. That is not to say you look like a college professor, still too young for that, but you kind of dress like one. Although, you almost carry the look, it’s almost like…”
Kurt trailed his sentence as he looked over Spencer once again and Spencer was pretty sure the boy was picturing him in clothing he imagined more suitable for an FBI agent. He could see when a thought of why he might dress the way he did and the realization of a reason for Spencer’s clothing choices took hold of the boys mind. Spencer suspected he had the right idea as well.
“Yeah.” Spencer said.
“Anyway, I knew you guys were coming because of your SUVs. Where ever they were fetched from so does not get any merit awards for their mechanic work. It was very nearly shameful. Chip, he worked at my dad’s garage during the summers when he was still in high school. It was nice; he was one of the good guys. Didn’t care that the boss’s weird son was there all the time working alongside his dad. My dad makes sure anyone who spends time working for him knows their stuff. So Chip knew just from the sound that those SUVs made as they rolled into the parking lot here that they needed help if they were to be safe for anything other than just the very basic use for very short distances. He called Dad and Dad told him to bring them over. However, it was just after closing and most Dad’s regular employees had already gone home. So Dad called me in and I came out to work with him. I haven’t worked full hours recently, so I could work without worry about overtime or anything. And I can always use the money. Don’t worry, I’ve been certified since Dad could legally get me certified. While we were working the Sheriff sat there chattering about why they were calling you guys in and I told him that I knew of something that connected all the deaths. The sheriff got asked to leave the shop due to the language he used as he told me you guys would never want to listen to me. Oh my stars, I thought for a few moments the Sheriff was going to just shoot my dad right then and there for daring to tell him to leave, but Dad just stood there looking at him and the sheriff finally made another slur and left the building. Dad says the shop is supposed to be one of my safe places, at least while I’m working there. Then Chip said that they were sending FBI agents who looked at things other than just fingerprints and stuff like that, so he’d get me into to talk to you as soon as he could because maybe knowing something that linked them all would mean something.”
“You say you know something that links all the deaths?” Spencer asked.
“All eight.” Kurt said. “I even went back and double checked last night.”
Spencer looked around for some paper and a pen, until he gave up and fetched paper and pen from his own satchel. “I’m going to have to get some writing utensils and paper in here, this is ridiculous.” He muttered, not quietly enough though, since the boy heard and smiled.
“Nice bag.” The young man, Kurt, said. “Good designer, rather old though. It’s held up well, that is the nice thing about good quality work, it holds up to wear well. Abuse well, too, if the material is right.”
“Take a seat.” Spencer said, pointing to the chair he’d set out for the boy. “Five outfits? Is that normal?”
“Nah, not even for most the others who get slushied at my school. Honestly it’s even a bit much for me. I always pack a spare or two, outfit wise. A change or two a day is normal, more than three is rare. High School is…there is a hierarchy, you know, and if you don’t fit in, sometimes it’s not a nice place to be.”
Spencer nodded. “Tossed in dumpsters and checked into lockers.” He said.
“Swirlies and slushies and shoving to the extent that you face plant. Exactly.” Kurt sat down and pulled his bag up onto the table. As he did, Spencer noticed a wince and wondered. “Outfit one was a loss even before school started, they served spaghetti for lunch yesterday and the dumpsters aren’t emptied until just before lunch tomorrow. Of course, even without the dumpster toss this morning I would have had to change…slushy one was grape and huge. Plus even before I managed to get to my locker to drop my bag off and extract a new outfit, I ended up slammed in to Locker 279. Luckily, I had a minor setback at home before I left and traded my good under t-shirt for one of the cheap ones my dad buys me and I had removed my good coat before the dumpster toss. Locker 279 met with some sort of trauma earlier this year and needs replacing. Like, the school year, not calendar year. Do you know first aid? I patched the slice across my back best I could and wrapped it in the remains of the cheap t-shirt, but it’s not feeling quite right.” Kurt scrunched his shoulders and rolled them before pulling his bag onto the table and starting to empty it. Spencer smiled again as the boy continued talking while looking through the notebooks, books, and folders he removed and pulling out papers here and there.
“Anyway, patched and redressed I almost made it to my first class except Puck’s trying to get his rep back up and was going to slushie Jacob the Creep…that is Jacob ben Israel and he is very much one of those makes the skin crawl creepy people-I try not to think about just where that boy might have hidden cameras lurking about in that school because my dad says I have to go to school and I cannot be homeschooled and if I think long about Jacob the Creep and his cameras I just start to freak out and so I just try very hard not to think about it …” The boy across from Spencer shuddered and grimaced before looking back down to the papers he was collecting from inside his pile of belongings. “Anyway, one of the Hockey Players pushed Puck and it got me. Puck punched the hockey player so I guess he sees me as a …friend maybe… which can only be a good thing. Puck’s in Glee club with me, and I think maybe the fact we’ve helped him out a bit with some of his issues this past little bit…we as in my dad mostly and me a little…has made him a bit less eager to make my life completely miserable. I was worried about that since I hadn’t really had a conversation with him for well over a week and the last one wasn’t exactly a good conversation and was well, rather weird. Totally thought I’d weirded him out so bad he’d never speak to me again. Outfit two down. Outfit three made it through first and second hour, but met its demise with slushies three and four right outside of the choir room. Glee club isn’t even going on really since we lost regionals and can’t compete in any other competitions until next school year and apparently that is what glee is about...instead of working starting now so we don’t lose next year… but we still have that hour scheduled for class so we still go and well, it’s become the most dangerous class to go to since we lost regionals, not that it was safe before. Apparently that is what makes us all targets, except half of us were targeted just as much, if not more, before we started up in Glee club, so really it’s just a handy excuse. Outfit four made it through glee, but not two steps past leaving the door of the choir room…slushie five and Karofsky. Only he has it down to the locker check and then slushie in face combo. I’ll have bruises from that, too. And outfit five never even made it into fourth hour.”
“Slushies? Like crushed ice drinks?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. They are horrid. The syrup stings your eyes and they are sticky and yet slimy and cold. There is a machine for them IN the school. It is ridiculous.”
“Thank God my high school didn’t have those. So, are your dumpsters the kind with the huge hard plastic lids or the metal lids?”
Kurt shivered. “Plastic, thank goodness. I’ve only had the lid shut on me twice though, both last year when I was a freshman.”
“I preferred those over the metal lidded ones, I think. The ones by the lunchroom at my school were plastic lidded, but smooth and hard to climb out of, but if you could get to the top they were easier to open. You’re pretty much tall enough that you probably can push the lid up without too much problem. I had to walk by the dumpsters at the side of the school where the offices were and they had metal lids. I was tossed in those pretty much every day, and they shut the lid every time - Not so bad on my clothing as the ones by the lunchroom, but the first day no one found me until Mickey the Janitor came out to toss some papers from the main office and finally fished me out, four and half hours after I’d been tossed in. I was too little to manage to get the lid to open even with the grooved sides that I could use to climb out. After that first day, every day ten minutes after second hour started, Mickey would fish me out of the dumpsters so I could get to my class. I think Mickey must have explained it to the teacher, as well, because even though I was ten minutes late every day I was never marked tardy.”
Spencer looked at Kurt, who looked back at him with an odd expression. Spencer raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” Kurt said, looking down and straightening the pile of papers he’d pulled from his various books and folders. The Kurt looked up again and met Spencer’s eyes. “It’s just…you get it. You’d understand it all, wouldn’t you?”
Spencer smiled. “Probably. I started high school right before I turned ten and graduated when I was 12.”
“Some sort of super genius, then. I should have guessed, I suppose. I bet the other kids hated you more than kids hate me. Was it bad all the way through high school?”
Spencer nodded. “Most of it. I was severely bullied my last year, until about mid December when I joined the basketball team and they won every single game for the rest of the season.”
“You played?” Kurt asked. Kurt was watching Spencer as he stuffed books and folders back into his bag.
Spencer tilted his head back and laughed. “No…just, no. I didn’t even go through a growth spurt of any type until I was like thirteen or fourteen. Late bloomer. I took over coaching. Basketball is fundamentally mathematics and physics. Angles and statistics. On your team, if you know who can make what shots consistently and you put your players in place and you teach them how to make the math work for them…you win. The team had lost all four games they had played, their star player had just been expelled for selling drugs, so when I brought them my plan, and the coach figured they had nothing left to lose, they put it to use. And they started winning every time they put my plans into play. The other thing I did was break down other teams shooting strategies, so we knew who and what to watch out for and how to foil the other teams’ plans. Most the bad bullying stopped after that.”
“Nice. I wish it would have worked for me. I joined the football team. Heck, I was the reason they won the only game they won this past year. Made no difference in the bullying, at all. In some cases it made it worse. Technically, I even won the Cheerios, that’s our cheerleading team, their national title. They probably could have won without me though….maybe. The coach signed me on solely for my singing voice. Nearly fifteen minutes of Celine Dion in French and that was only one of the six fifteen minute routines she made me learn perfectly. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t just sing. The coach made sure I could do anything she asked the other cheerleaders to do, as well….while singing. Everything, that lady is insane. Didn’t stop the bullying. The bullies were more careful about when they bullied, and I dealt with a whole lot more of being shoved and pushed and that kind bullying instead of the slushies…but that was because Coach Sylvester would have killed them if they messed the uniform up too badly.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” Spencer said.
Kurt shrugged. “C’est la vie, I guess. It’s what you get by being different, by being an outcast. You always hear it gets better. Did it get better?” Kurt asked.
Spencer cocked his head to the side and ran his fingers through his hair. “Most of the time I think so, but I still have issues.”
Kurt looked him up and down again and nodded.
“Well, I’ve always known I can’t expect miracles and that there will always be problems. But I rather hoped they would be less if I moved away from here.” He said with a sigh. He looked up at Spencer. “The murdered guys... those guys weren’t, you know. Outcasts.”
“What do you mean?” Spencer asked.
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Okay! It’s the next day and I say that’s more than enough time for me to go back to my Unsympathetic ways! *evil laughter* You can not stop me! Let’s list off the observations, shall we?~ (Warning: Spoilers ahead! Also, obviously, Unsympathetic opinions of the Sides. If that ain’t something that floats your boat, by all means, ignore this post.)
- Patton not allowing Roman to say anything even remotely critical of Virgil
Like, seriously. What Roman said wasn’t even an insult. I mean, I guess it could be considered insensitive to Virgil’s feelings. But how many times has Virgil took jabs (oftentimes low ones) at Roman and was not asked to be nice or apologize? It seems to always be Roman who has to moderate how he speaks while Virgil can mouth off all he wants. Roman wasn’t being malicious, he was just poking some fun. His tone and smile clearly communicate he’s just fooling around and isn’t intentionally trying to get under Virgil’s skin.
I’d have less of a problem with this if one, Virgil was called out more for his behavior. Two, his and Roman’s banter was more equal and friendly rather than guilt-trippy and one-sided. Three, this scene not ending with Roman forcing himself to agree with Virgil’s opinion and Virgil’s condescending little thumbs up afterward. As if to say: “There you go, nice and obedient.”
- Roman using Deceit’s hat for something he isn’t even apart of and without permission (more on that later)
I’m actually going to save this one for last. Because there’s so much to unpack there even though it’s not at the center of attention.
- More of not allowing Logan to have a say in things. Roman taking away his votes because he isn’t wearing a onesie.
Okay so, he’s being excluded from a decision simply because he wasn’t wearing something. I know this may seem like a nick-pick but come on. Give this poor man a break. How many times are the other Sides going to completely brush Logan off and invalidate his input? Even for small things like this he’s being treated like an afterthought. I know Roman pretty much rigged it for everyone and Virgil gave him a look...but this was mostly centered around excluding Logan, yet again. And they still give him flack for not trying to open up. Poor Lo, I wanna just hug him and maybe read something with him just to give some form of comfort from this. And of course, dear ol’ Patton sees no problem with this but was so quick to rush to Virgil’s defense. Then again, this is normal for them. So no one bats an eye at it.
- “I can think of a few ways.”
Not an argument here. Go OFF, Virgil!!! Sorry not sorry, I got SO much satisfaction out of Patton’s face fall here. I was prepared for that line to just be another “Hee Hee Patton line” without so much as an acknowledgment about his actions lately but then I hear THIS! Just good old Patton about to not at all try to address how he treats Thomas and the others as always but then Virgil of all people comes in and lets him have it! Just to rub salt in that well-deserved wound! Yes! That’s right, frown! Frown, HARD! Jeez, that felt so good to see!
I hope we get more of that in the future. Just dissecting Patton’s mistakes and not explaining it away with “he’s trying”!
- “Thomas made his decision and I think we should just try to settle into it.”
HA! That is RICH, Patton! No joke. I laughed so bitterly at that line. Patton, how many times have you tried to sway Thomas in a direction that YOU wanted no matter whether or not it made him happy or was the best decision for him overall? How many times did you guilt-trip him, guilt-trip everyone? How many times did you ignore Roman’s misery (S v S is the most recent example), ignore Virgil’s anxiety? Or amplify it? How many times did you ignore Logan’s advice until it actually had an effect on YOU? You have NO room to talk about allowing Thomas to come to his own decisions when you spent SO long swaying the movement of things to end in your favor. I’m-
How many times did you just “ease into” the changes in Thomas’s life or the other parts of his personality that made you uncomfortable and tried to adjust without judgment? I can’t- *wheeze* Here’s hoping you get some really good character development later on because I just can’t stand you like this.
- “How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you’ve taken your sweet time to settle into things you were uncomfortable with in the past?”
Once again, go OFF, Virgil!!! Call. Him. Out! Patton has been nothing but judgmental and guilt-trippy with whatever he didn’t approve of. He’s made the same mistakes over and over, hardly showing any remorse for it. Only when others point it out does he look bothered. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t feel like he’s ever made as much as an effort as the others. It’s very irritating, to say the least. Him just treating Deceit and Remus like infections rather than apart of Thomas all the time, for example. Trying to repress them rather than understand them, like he did with Virgil. But he likes Virgil, so of course, he didn’t have the same reaction. He doesn’t like Remus or Deceit, so he acts accordingly. Which is really messed up.
Don’t give Virgil that look, Thomas! You know he’s right!
- “There’s nothing wrong with talking! Sometimes you just need to air things out and get a second opinion.”
I’m sorry. Did I just hear that right? *checking with an imaginary person* Who was the one that said that? It was Patton? *non-existant “yes”* Oh, alright.
*clears throat* Getting a second opinion? Getting a second opinion?? Getting a second opinion?!
...My dude, since when have you wanted a “second opinion”?! Especially from Deceit! Since when did you confront a problem head-on, talk about it without bias, and was satisfied with a conclusion that didn’t cater to your liking?! I genuinely want to see you take initiative, not try to control everything, listen to everyone, and take your role seriously. Without trying to steer everything towards something you personally approve of.
I want to see you go through that change so badly. Drop the goofiness for a bit and commit. Please! *deep sigh*
- Virgil hissing at Deceit
He literally just came to get his hat, dude. He didn’t even acknowledge you. What is your deal? But I guess all Dee has to do is breathe and that’s enough cause for hostility. Jeez. There better be a really good explanation for Virgil’s attitude or I swear I will reach through the damn screen and deal with Virgil myself.
- Logan putting his onesie on out of sight.
I think this really speaks volumes about how he’s treated. He’s so afraid of being ridiculed and not being respected that he has to hide what he likes. Logan feels if he actually indulges in his other interests openly, he won’t be able to actually enjoy it because it’s “silly” and of course Logan can’t be “silly” because it’s going to cost him his comfort and dignity. And it’s not like he’s wrong for feeling that way.
There is such a lack of respect for him from the others, day in and day out. He can’t ever let his hair down and relax for a bit. The others complain about him being so closed-off but when opens up, he always gets shut down. When he makes jokes, he can’t just laugh with the others. It’ll be used as material against him later on if he does. (Ex: He misuses a word, it’s used against him later even though it clearly bothers him. It’s not teasing if the recipient isn’t laughing along.)
Logan wants a say in what they watch as a family? Yeah, no. Unless you wear that onesie that we’ll likely make fun of you for, your opinion is invalid.
I can’t imagine what this is doing to Logan’s mental health and self-esteem. Or can I? Because that last clip is pretty telling. Honestly, I respect Lo so much. He has to put up with so much bullshit yet he continues on and does his job anyway. Hopefully, he’ll find some way to feel better about himself.
- Roman using Deceit’s hat for something he isn’t even apart of and without permission (here we are)
Speaking of a complete lack of respect, what the fuck, Roman?! And literally everyone else!
Okay so, Deceit and the Light Sides are not anywhere near on good terms. Especially after S v S! They are not friendly with one another. There’s no dynamic here that allows any of the Light Sides to borrow something from Deceit. While I did laugh at Deceit’s reaction and Roman’s face after was genuinely priceless it still...got me thinking.
Deceit is mistreated all the time. He’s ignored, demonized, villainized by them at every turn. He and Remus aren’t included in any family get-togethers. When he was literally having an emotional breakdown he was laughed at (Virgil) and still ignored. Deceit did everything he could to be heard in a debate and was called “edgy” for expressing genuine concern over Thomas’s well being.
Then Roman obviously sneaks into his space and steals his hat to use for another debate that they’re having??? That also doubles as quality family time that he’s never included in??? Do I really need to explain how utterly disrespectful and messed up that is? And this is after they had the courtroom scenario and left on really tense terms. And they likely haven’t spoken since.
So not only is Deceit going to be constantly demonized, made fun of, and excluded from anything remotely affectionate...but he’s also going to get his personal items stolen on top of all that? How nice. And just...the salt in the wound of using it for a voting and family time...
I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself but I just can’t get over it! The nerve, the audacity...it’s so low!
I honestly don’t know how Deceit remains so civil with the others, it’s truly remarkable. I applaud you, Dee. Respect. Hopefully, you’ll get fairer treatment in the future.
#unsympathetic core sides#unsympathetic patton#unsympathetic virgil#sympathetic deceit#sympathetic logan#platonic sanders sides#sanders sides spoilers#unsympathetic observations#please dni if you don't want to hear what I have to say about these little things and just want to enjoy the episode by itself#this is how I show my love
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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 30
A 12xRose Human AU
Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.
All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.
Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma
Rated: Explicit, for smut
@doctorroseprompts
AO3 | Masterlist
—
Thursday (very, very late)
“I have something for you,” Malcolm murmured, kissing her ear.
“Huh?”
He’d cleaned up the worst of the mess they’d made, and now that the sweat had cooled and dried, they were snuggled together under the blankets, her back to his front, their arms entangled and folded together beneath her breasts. Thoroughly sated, warm, comfortable, and happy, she was almost asleep when he spoke.
He rolled away from her, and by the time he came back she had turned to face him, pillowing her head on her arm as she watched him. His hands appeared, one clenched around something, and her breath caught. “What-”
“Rose,” he cut her off, not unkindly, “you… you are a breath of fresh air. You-”
Unable to help it she yawned, face scrunching with the size of it- it seemed to go on forever, and by the time it was over, he was biting his lip, watching her with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t want to bore you.”
“Mhmm, you’re not,” she promised, snuggling closer, “but I’m exhausted. My husband had me up ridiculously early to watch the sunrise this morning, then he shagged my brains out.”
“Sounds like quite the catch.”
“He is.” She grinned up at him. “And I’m going to return the favor and blow his mind- well, something- as soon as I’ve gotten a kip.”
Malcolm hummed. “Well, I’ll let you get to it, but first- I’ll save the drawn-out romantic speech for when you’re more awake, but…” Holding out his clenched hand in front of him, he turned it over and opened it to reveal a ring, with a decent sapphire stone set in gold. It was beautiful, and delicate, and she loved it.
“Oh, babe,” Rose gasped softly. “That’s wonderful.”
“Do you really think so?” Surprisingly shy, he held it out to her. “If so, I want you to have it. If not, there’s plenty more in the family vault, but- I wanted you to have this one. I’ve wanted you to have it for… a while.”
“Are you sure?” She took in carefully, holding it up to her eye to examine it better. “It looks old. Not in a bad way, just in a valuable way.”
Her husband slid his hand over her waist, pulling her closer. “Yes. I didn’t give you an engagement ring, because… but now that our feelings have been resolved, that it’s all out in the open, I want you to have a pretty ring to show off.”
Rose looked down at the simple gold band she’d been wearing for the last week, and felt her heart melt. “I’m very happy with the ring I already have,” she told him softly, “because you gave it to me. I think this will be a perfect addition.” Then she handed it back.
“Wait, what?”
Rolling her eyes, she held out her left hand to him, grinning. “Go ahead, put it on me. ‘S only right.”
He did, carefully guiding it up her finger and over her knuckles, settling it at the base of her wedding band before bringing her hand to his lips and kissing both rings gently. “Perfect.”
“I agree.” Bringing her hand to her face, she admired how they looked together – like they belonged next to each other. “That wasn’t necessary, but… thank you.”
“You deserve the world,” he shrugged one shoulder. “A ring- a family heirloom at that- is nothing.”
Smiling, she leaned forward, kissing him sweetly. “Let’s get some sleep,” she sighed against his lips. “Then when we wake up, I’ll thank you properly.”
He kissed her back. “No thanks necessary.”
“Oh, I think it’s very necessary.”
-
Friday (very, very early)
Yawning, Rose padded back to bed from the loo, on her way eyeing the clothing strewn across the floor, abandoned where it had fallen. At first glance it would be impossible to mistake what had happened, and she felt awkward at the idea of the maid finding them like that. Sending a longing glance towards the bed, she quickly gathered up the items and piled them on the chair so they didn’t look quite so much like victims of torrential passion – as they had been.
Climbing back into bed, she snuggled down next to Malcolm in the hopes of falling back asleep, but it was soon clear that that wasn’t going to happen. Her mind was wide awake, and a heat low in her belly begged for relief. Grunting in frustration she opened her eyes, taking in Malcolm’s profile in the moonlight. In his sleep he’d rolled onto his back, one arm bent above his head, the other across his chest. The sheet had slipped down to his hips, and she licked her lips at the slight tenting occurring there.
Glancing back up at his face she found him sleeping soundly, and debated whether or not to wake him up. On the one hand, she saw no reason they should both be awake just because she couldn’t sleep. On the other, if they were awake anyway…
-
Malcolm drifted towards consciousness, hazily aware of a wet warmth on his stomach. Stretching his arm out beside him, his eyes shot open at realizing he was alone in bed, Rose’s side cool and empty. He didn’t have to wonder long, though, before solving both mysteries at once – his wife was stretched out on her side perpendicular to his waist, drawing shapes on his stomach with her tongue as she propped herself up on her forearms.
“Good morning,” he rasped, threading his fingers through her hair, eyes following the tip of her tongue. “Having fun?”
“Technically, it’s not morning,” she replied with a grin, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his navel. “But, I figured you wouldn’t mind. Tit for tat, and such.”
He raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest with a mere, “Oh?”
Her grin morphed into a smirk, and she tugged at the sheet covering his hips; it didn’t move, just pressed down against him, accentuating the tenting happening there. “I mean, if you’re up for it.”
“I could probably be persuaded to be a team player,” he drawled. “For the right price.” Anticipation had heat pooling low in his belly, but he was enjoying the game- he loved how playful she could be, how she brought that same quality out in him. Sex with Rose was fun, in a way it had rarely been throughout his life.
“Is that so?” Freeing one hand, she trailed her fingertips along his length over the sheet, making his obscured erection bob and his stomach clench. “I’ve been known to broker a fair deal or two in my day.”
He stole her abandoned pillow, using it to prop himself up to better see what she was doing- and what he desperately hoped she would be soon. “Rose.”
Rose snickered, and he flushed at his inadvertently-whiney tone. “Yes, dear?”
She drew the sheet away from him, and he helped kick it down to the end of the bed, far out of the way. The cooler air of their bedroom felt wonderful on his heated flesh, and he watched with pleading eyes as she examined his length, abruptly realizing that though they’d been intimate a handful of times now, she’d never really seen him- not like this, and he eyed his sometimes-errant member with suspicion. Don’t ruin this for us, he warned it- no need to remind her that he was officially closing in on ‘middle age’.
Apparently, though, he didn’t need to worry.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, making him twitch in response. “Lovely. Really.” Leaning forward she flicked her tongue against the head, drawing a sigh from him. “And big. Who knew you were hiding this in your trousers all those years?” Her tongue darted out again, and he sagged back against the pillows, hand returning to her hair and combing through the loose strands, gently untangling them.
He let her tease him for far longer than he would have liked, her soft kisses and licks doing nothing but making him ache for her, despite the sensual beauty of the visual. She was on her hands and knees next to him, breasts hanging freely. His eyes lingered along her smooth side, taking in the pert bum wagging slightly in the air with her movements. She was the epitome of art, and were it not so personal and he so possessive, he would insist that her likeness should hang in any of the great art museums in the world, so anyone and everyone could marvel at her sheer, erotic beauty. Eventually, though, the tension became unbearable, and he shifted restlessly on the mattress, his focus narrowing to the imminent pleasure.
“I’m starting to think you’re all talk.”
His beautiful bride looked up the length of his chest to meet his eye, gaze taking its time to peruse the view on the way. “Is that all men think about?” she asked, biting her lip, unable to hide her smirk. “Getting their cock sucked?”
“It is when a beautiful woman promises to do so then doesn’t.” He arched his eyebrows. “You’ve made your husband a promise, Mrs. Tucker, and I expect you to see it through.”
She laughed. “Mrs. Tucker. I like that.” Her fingers wrapped around him, starting a lazy glide along his skin. “You know, this is only fair, after how you tortured me last night.”
“Tortured you?” he said indignantly. “I didn’t know orgasms were considered torture. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Arching one eyebrow up at him, she dipped her head and finally, finally, slid her lips over the head of him, sucking lightly as her tongue explored him.
“Guh.”
Her chuckle was almost silent, but the vibrations from it were amazing over his aching flesh, and he grunted, fingers tightening in her hair. It had been a long time since his last relationship (if one could call it that), and to be here, with the woman he’d quietly loved from afar for so long, still felt dreamlike. He hoped he never lost that feeling.
Rose pulled her hand and mouth off of him then, grinning at his involuntary protest. “I’m just making myself comfortable,” she soothed, shifting around to settle herself between his thighs, kneeling over him. “I suggest you hold on.”
This time, when she lowered her mouth to him, it was without any of the languidness of before- taking half his length in on the first pass, she began a seemingly-complicated rhythm of bobbing and sucking, her hand pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach, all of which worked to short-circuit his brain and send him spiraling towards the abyss.
“Oh, Rose,” he groaned, fisting the pillows next to his head, trying to keep himself from spending too quickly. “So good. Too good.” The suction she was able to generate was incredible, his eyes rolling back into his head in delight.
In response she just took him deeper, his tip bumping the back of her throat twice before she pulled off, coughing. “Okay, can’t do that,” she giggled, breathing deeply. “How do you want to…”
He had to fight to open his eyes, especially once she returned to sucking at his head. “Ngh.” Thought was difficult, all his senses focused on the pleasures of her mouth, but he decided he didn’t want to come alone. “Fuck me.”
“You sure? I can-”
Malcolm reached for her, catching her hand and using it to pull her up his body. “Please.”
Straddling his hips, she rose up for a moment to line him up before sinking down onto him, taking all of him in one go. “Mhmm.”
“Yes,” he grunted, gripping her hips and starting to thrust up. “C’mon.” She started slow, her movements more of a rock then a thrust, before she leaned forward, bracing her hands above his shoulders and dipping her head to kiss him. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips, drowning in pleasure. “So much.”
“I love you too.”
She wormed her tongue into his mouth, flicking it against his own as her hips began to pick up speed, rolling over him in a delicious counterpoint to his own thrusting. Letting go of her hips he wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her against him, as his right hand slipped between them, finding her clit and rubbing it desperately.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Rose keened softly, head bowing as she rode him harder. “Mhmm, yeah.”
“Come, Rose,” he pleaded, rhythm stuttering as he fought to hold on, waiting for her to catch up. “Please.”
“Hang on.”
He stopped instantly, and panting for breath, she shifted over him, straightening up and setting her hands on his chest as she got her feet under her. His limbs trembled, unsure how much more he could take, but she tossed her head, hair flying behind her, and opened her eyes.
“Okay.”
And then she was riding him, all finesse lost in favor of chasing release. For a moment he forgot to start moving himself, captivated by her beauty- her sweat-slick skin shining in the moonlight, the building pleasure on her face, her breasts bouncing with the force of her movements.
“Malcolm,” she whimpered, and he sprang to life, one hand returning between them to pleasure her, the other reaching up to pinch and twist a nipple just the way she liked.
She broke with a sob, freezing above him, head thrown back, body shaking with the strength of her release, before collapsing down onto him. Rolling her onto her back and settling above her, he hooked one knee in the crook of his elbow and began to move. It only took another half-dozen or so thrusts before it was his turn, gasping her name as he finally found sweet release, sagging down to cover her body with his own.
“I love you,” she whispered, face buried in his shoulder.
“I love you too,” he sighed, enjoying the looseness in his muscles and peace in his heart. Nothing in the world felt better against his skin than hers, wrapped up in each other as they were, and he couldn’t have left her in that moment for anything.
She pressed a kiss to his clavicle, one arm weakly wrapping around his waist. “We’re gonna have a brilliant life.”
“Fucking right we are.”
#bbatcfic#ficandchips#Doctor Who#doctorroseprompts#Human!12xRose#Human!Twelfth Doctor#Rose Tyler#Human AU#AU#The Nuptial Necessity
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Ridiculously Simple Tips To Presenting Your Home For Sale
If you're going to sell your home, you should be shrewd. While it's one thing to ensure your house looks perfect and appealing to would-be purchasers, you must make them need to glance in any case.
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Anyway, how would you get purchasers through the entryways? What's more, when they're through, how would you guarantee that they'll be intrigued? It's everything in the introduction.
Introducing your home
Here are my main three tips for introduction that sells.
Give them you're not kidding
This sounds senseless in such a case that you've put your home available, you need to sell it.
Be that as it may, I do locate that some house dealers are somewhat apathetic in their endeavors. For instance, they take photographs, however the quality is horrendous and, a large number of them don't waste time with fundamental yet clear highlights, for example, floorplans and recordings.
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Pictures are so significant when selling a home.
You may have composed a beautiful depiction of your home, yet essentially, people like to 'see' what's on offer. This is the reason I am a little stunned when I see a portion of the low quality pictures that individuals use when they're selling their home. That is to say, some are so awful you wouldn't post them on your own web based life page, not to mention use them for advertising a property that could cost many thousands, even a large number of dollars.
Normally, I see pictures that are dim, that neglect to catch selling purposes of a home, that lone show a couple of rooms (which leaves the watcher to consider what isn't being appeared). I recommend you photo the house from front to back and take care of them of how the property streams. At last, evacuate pictures that show the impression of the proprietor in mirrors or windows.
Presently, I'm not anticipating that home merchants should be proficient picture takers, however some fundamental photography aptitudes aren't that difficult to secure. Utilize a wide-point and set the pictures to scene to catch the full size of a room, help yourself out and open window ornaments and permit however much common light into the room as could be expected.
In any case, all things considered, recruiting an expert property picture taker is perhaps the best venture you can make in augmenting the arrival (cost) on your home.
I realize it sounds self-evident (however, I've seen everything) make the beds, set garments aside and pick shoes, toys and general mayhem off the floor. Show the house off to its best so it is welcoming and urges the watcher to need to see more.
Floorplans are likewise an imperative visual instrument with regards to a purchaser envisioning themselves living in your home. I realize that many would-be-purchasers jump directly to the floorplan as they have unequivocal thoughts regarding what layouts work for them. For example, a family with young kids probably won't care for a house that has the fundamental room higher up and the children's rooms first floor (others may adore that thought). A floorplan lets them see the layout, and they would then be able to settle on an educated choice on whether it's something they'd prefer to seek after.
Recordings are likewise an extraordinary instrument with regards to selling a home. Once more, they give understanding into the layout and stream of a house. You needn't bother with any extravagant hardware for this, only a cell phone and a consistent hand.
Open up and be prepared for examination
Numerous dealers inquire as to whether an open home is a smart thought or if a by arrangement seeing is ideal.
My answer? Both.
Open Homes are an extraordinary method of getting countless individuals through the entryways without significant bother, and the other advantage of enormous gatherings, is that when you get loads of individuals together in one spot, it makes a feeling of interest that will ideally prod those intrigued energetically.
I encourage sellers to have at any rate two Open Homes for each week in the initial four a month and a half of posting so purchasers, paying little mind to their timetables, have the chance to pick a day and a period that suits. You just need to run your open home for 45 minutes most extreme, so it's not significantly badly designed. Ends of the week and nights function admirably for a great many people.
Open Homes are anything but difficult to orchestrate, and you can advise purchasers through your site posting, advancing the date and time in any event four days ahead of time. Remember to utilize a board outside the home and put the subtleties on there as well. Simply the time and date and the words 'Open Home' are for the most part that is required.
By arrangement viewings are valuable for dousing the additional items who can't make the Open Homes out of the blue. If a purchaser reaches you to organize an arrangement, you can cajole out the time-squanderers by posing a couple of inquiries about their position and afterward offer a couple of times. For example, 'We can do Monday at 5.30pm, or Friday at 9.30am.'
I generally encourage purchasers to contact watchers a couple of hours before the arrangement to affirm that they are coming. Ensure that you are prepared at any rate 15 minutes before the review time as purchasers have a propensity for turning up ahead of schedule – I don't know if they need to find you napping stuffing the mouse traps in the organizer under the steps, or more terrible, however be prepared.
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Atelier Lulua Opinions
This feels a little early, since I haven’t really done the Machina Domain DLC, and that might change some stuff, but I’ve read a bit and it’s just a handful of lore tidbits about Mana and Ficus, so I’m calling it good. Overall it’s pretty fun! It’s nice to return to the Arland games after a while, and Lulua definitely delivers on both the nostalgia factor, and having some pretty unique stuff going on all its own.
CHARACTERS The cast wound up being surprisingly strong, all things considered. Lulua herself is a fun protagonist, being, perhaps expectedly, quite a goober but trying her best. Her best friend, Eva, is also hilarious at most points in the game, and actually has some incredible moments regarding her birth parents and her response to them reaching out after years of leaving her with an orphanage. Aurel is...okay, one of the weaker characters. He’s very serious warrior man, which is odd considering he’s related to Gio. You’d expect a bit more aloofness to have rubbed off, but no, he takes his role seriously. There’s Niko, who’s a doofus who’s a pirate but the nice kind because of course you are.
Then there’s Ficus. I expected to hate Ficus, and initially, very much did. But wow, what a turnaround. It took a bit for me to figure out what was going on with him, but you’ve actually met him before. You wouldn’t know it immediately, but...damn. Damn what a tie-in that didn’t need tying in, but sure as hell got wrapped up anyway. Seriously, it takes the story from the ending of Totori and completely turns it on its head. There are a lot of questions I have about the whole situation, but overall he’s got a strong history.
Then there’s the returning cast. Rorona and Sterk are as great as ever. Sterk is having another, different midlife crisis this time, because this poor man has had one every game he’s been in. Just let the man rest. There’s Totori and Meruru, who are both wonderful. Totori honestly feels a lot more sassy this game, and I absolutely love it. Meruru is just as boisterous as always, and has even taken over learning the sword, and taking the mask, from Gio. She’s Masked M. It’s exactly as great as it sounds. And your final recruitable member...is Piana. Yeah, I love this recent trend with Atelier games, where the alchemy teacher is not the protagonist from the last game in line. I expected Meruru to be the teacher, in that same successionary line, but instead it’s Piana, the girl Totori rescued from the Eastern Continent. Piana’s fun. She adopted a lot of teaching style from Totori, and is a bit of a mess as a person, but really talented with alchemy.
There are, of course, a ton of returning characters that are not playable as well. Mimi and Keina are the big ones, and...god I love both of them. Mimi’s just the right of “developing to be open with her feelings while still not being proficient with them” to make a wonderful character. Keina has apparently taken over a lot of governance from Rufus, and is just really well liked. Oh, and Cole’s here, grown up now, and the apprentice of Hagel. While I’m all for Hagel getting an apprentice, his absence in this game is felt tremendously. We also have some returning faces, in the form of Wild, Iksel’s protege.
Basically, it’s a solid cast, that...unfortunately misses a few marks for me. Largely because of who isn’t here. I get it, we can’t have every single character from all three Arland games show up. That’d be too much. But Mimi not being playable is ridiculous, and the fact that Cordelia of all people never shows up is just infuriating. Why can’t Lulua see her other mom? Work? Cordelia’s always been busy with work, but has always made time for her friends. Don’t give me that shit.
STORY Lulua’s probably the first real story we’ve gotten in the Arland games. Rorona was just saving her Atelier, Totori was just looking for her mom and tripped into the plot, Meruru was just developing her kingdom. Lulua actually hints at a lot, and develops things pretty substantially. At its core, Lulua retains the simplicity of the other Arland games, being primarily about Lulua’s journey to become a great alchemist like her mother. Beneath the surface, however, we have the mystery of Fellsgalaxen, and how it ties in with the other area we know of: Orthogalaxen. Turns out, both are related, and there was even a third that fell into disrepair and became the Modis Ruins. The galaxen arks were basically command centers, where ancient civilizations overlooked machinery they built in order to control the world around them. For instance, Night’s Domain? It was apparently an area where a machine was built to control night and day. When the command center broke down, the machine lost control, and now just perpetually converts the surrounding area to a deeper and deeper night. There’s also the Fire Domain, which control weather, but went haywire and now just spews fire. Rule of threes, there’s one more Domain area we actually know of. Machina Domain. Now, I didn’t get the DLC for it yet, I’m sure there will be more to talk about from it, but presumably that was something to allow for passage through space, given it’s constantly referred to as a “distortion in space.”
The story develops into Lulua meeting the operator of Fellsgalaxen, a girl named Stia, who is desperately trying to get to the core and fix the problems at hand. It’s not working, and you need to help her get there before Fellsgalaxen is destroyed, and takes your hometown out with it.
Despite how solid the story is, I feel like there are too many gaps. We don’t know a ton about the galaxen arks or the different domains or their purposes. We don’t know...well, much of anything. Maybe a lot of that is left to the DLC, but even if it is, I do take some issue with needing an additional purchase to make sense of some of your lore. Still, I absolutely love this, for possibly stupid reasons. Those reasons largely being around enjoying stories of man vs. nature where man lost, and the new trial being current man vs. past man’s mistakes echoing through eternity.
SETTING Okay, yes, I love the establishment of what the domains and the galaxens are. I love the added depth they gave to certain areas or bosses, to a degree it almost feels like this game was planned since Rorona (though I’m sure it wasn’t). It just feels like such a good development of the setting we’ve known and loved all these years.
I will say that I wish Lulua had more unique areas to work with, instead of being just a highlight reel of areas from previous games. The general scale also looks weird, and kinda packed together compared to previous games, but it doesn’t really detract from anything.
ALCHEMY SYSTEM Not gonna lie, the alchemy system is kind of over-complicated this time around. There’s 999 quality, again, as well as elemental values for each items. Different ingredients give different values, leading to different potential effects on the new items. But wait! Now there’s also Awakening effects! Depending on the item used, in certain slots, you can get additional effects! Sometimes they’re good, sometimes they suck.
The problem is, you’re trying to balance all of these things at once. the most quality you get out of gathered items is like 230, so 999 quality on items is one hell of a leap. You basically have to rely on synthesized items, but the items natural to a category don’t always work for the effects you’re after. So you have to Awaken other items to be part of that category, so you can have better effects, all while monitoring the absurd quality level and traits you’re passing on. Oh, and speaking of traits? All the best ones are locked behind specific traits being combined, and not in the way you think. See, to get the maximum of, say, Stat boosting traits, you don’t just mix together two of the low level ones, like Stat Boost and Stats Mega Charge. No, you have to combine Stats Mega Charge with a rare trait you only get from bosses or rewards from S-rank battle quests, like Awakening Agent, Deadly Art, or Resonant Agent, to combine with the highest tier you can make naturally, and upgrade into the next form. It can be a little bit frustrating, and frankly? I had to shift difficulty down to Easy just to get started. Without having a good spread, you can’t take the S-rank bosses easily, and then you can’t really get the effects. And you do need the effects. The final bosses are pretty tough without them.
TP (formerly Cost) for an item isn’t great. It caps naturally at 60, increasing by 5 for each 5 levels you grow in alchemy, but the TP increasing skills actually stack this time, so it’s not too hard to get what you need, as long as you’re passing the highest tier of this skill on to everything you make.
BATTLE SYSTEM Battle system can also be frustrating. Basically, there are two issues I take with this game: Stun, and Support Attacks.
Stun is obvious. Pretty sure I’ve complained of it before, and will do so until the end of time. Stun sucks. It’s either a problem where you’re getting stunned every two hits, or you’ve managed to perfectly stunlock an enemy who is no longer allowed to move. It takes twice as many hits to Stun an enemy once they recover, but you only really need it to land once. Stun is only gained from skill attacks, which means it’s really easy for the enemy to just spam those and stun you. God forbid they have something that both has high stun value and knockback. You may as well turn the game off if the enemy gets to act at all.
And that’s where Support Attacks are annoying. You can control them, but only in the sense that you can determine who to put on the back line to allow the follow-up. Not all follow-up attacks activate off of the same frontline skills, so it’s more about matching to your specific playstyle than anything. The problem is, you have no control over when they go off, or if they go off. They’re not all guaranteed. So, let’s say an enemy isn’t stunned, but needs two hits to be stunned, after your skill was used. Piana may follow up with her two support attacks. May. If she hits with one, the enemy gets their turn, and you might be fucked. If she gets both, great! But this also works in reverse. Let’s say you know full well that an enemy needs only one hit to be stunned. Tough shit, Piana is guaranteed to follow up with one of her skills, and that’s going to remove stun so the enemy gets to act anyway. Stun is just annoying. It’s hard to control for, and you don’t really get a chance to act on it most of the time. Without these two parts, I think the game could be fine with a bit of rebalancing. As it stands, bosses all felt either way overpowered because taking a hit meant being stun locked forever, or were a cakewalk because equipment was all at its optimal and nothing could stand against you. You could argue that’s just the Atelier Experience, but I have a hard time saying that this was all that much fun, considering I never once touched my items. I got through everything on stats alone, and that...doesn’t feel like the best thing.
OTHER MECHANICS Exploration items exist in this game, and it’s...kinda weird? You need specific bombs for mining now, and they come at different destruction levels, such that some bombs won’t even dent certain rocks, and it’s not clear which are which. Pickaxe has the same issue, mostly being unable to break things without its max destruction value, which is pretty low. A lot of exploration items feel redundant or kinda useless, like the Wind God’s Bag or Traveling Shoes (there’s no time limit, why do I need these?), but some are hyper-vital, like the key. It’s really just about picking the best options for you. So in my case, it was mostly mining bombs.
ADDITIONAL COMMENTS I’m gonna echo what I said about Lydie and Suelle: one of the things I never took into account before was graphics. I think people who bitch about graphics needing to be top-tier are ridiculous. This game has all sorts of visual issues, but it does nothing to detract from the charm of the game. Rather, what they choose to use graphics for has a lot of impact. Instead of the relatively flat affect of some previous games, characters have gotten really dynamic in their expressions, poses, and general actions, and it’s frankly fantastic. It adds a layer of comedy to the games that really complements the series’ general tone.
Also, please, please watch the Lulua and Sterk armwrestling bit. I promise it will be the best thing you’ve watched all day.
FINAL THOUGHTS Atelier Lulua is a fantastic game that, I think, really succeeds at what it attempts to do. It’s a fun nostalgia trip through Arland, with a lot of great returning cast members, and new developments for characters and setting that are really fun to experience. If you’ve played the Arland games and are a fan, absolutely check Lulua out. If you haven’t...consider trying out Rorona. You really do need to have background knowledge of the Arland games to appreciate Lulua to the fullest. But once you have that knowledge, it’s definitely worth playing.
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If you enjoyed this (for some reason), consider checking out the write-ups for the other games in the series as well!
Atelier Rorona Plus Atelier Totori Plus Atelier Meruru Plus Atelier Ayesha Plus Atelier Escha and Logy Plus Atelier Shallie Plus Atelier Sophie Atelier Firis Atelier Lydie and Suelle
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Tips To Finding The Best Locksmith For Your Money
Proper home ownership involves safeguarding the structure. Do you think a beautician is qualified to handle your security issues? No, and that's why you should get a professional to make sure your house is secure. These hints will help you land a great auto locksmith.
Always get an estimate from a locksmith before allowing them to do any work for you. Unfortunately, there are locksmiths out there that will do the job then ask for an unreasonable amount of money. This can be avoided if you are clear about what you will be charged for the service.
To find a locksmith that performs quality work, always attempt to get recommendations from family and friends. Chances are, someone you know has locked themselves out of their car locksmith or their home. In addition, research any locksmith you are considering on the Better Business Bureau's website to help ensure they are legitimate.
Make sure that once your locksmith is done that he hands you a receipt. Most locksmiths are trustable, but some are scammers. That is why you must retain proof that you paid for the services in full. Keep the receipt in case there is an issue.
Do not allow an emergency to lead you into a locksmith scam. You should always ask for a quote before getting any service done. It is likely you will be charged more once someone arrives and assesses the situation, but it should not be ridiculously higher than the estimate you were given.
If you are looking for a good locksmith, you should ask friends, family and co-workers for recommendations. This is a service that many people use, so it is likely that someone can lead you to the right place. If not, you can try finding someone on a legitimate review site.
Always question a potential locksmith about the professional affiliations they are involved with and the certifications they hold. This just indicates whether the locksmith is current on new methods and technologies. In some cases, it may mean that he or she is more skilled than another locksmith. While there are no guarantees, this line of questioning will help you get a qualified individual.
If you live in a very large city, it may be extremely difficult to choose between all of the locksmiths available in your area. Call several ultimate locksmith and arrange in-person meetings in order to secure quotes. Choose the locksmith that offers the best rate quote and has the insurance and experience to back it up.
If you receive great service from a locksmith, you should keep his number on hand in case you need him again. A very good locksmith is not always easy to find, so it would not be a good idea to discard their information. You will be a lot safer if only once person handles all of your security needs.
Once you are given a quote by a locksmith, ask them what it is included in this price. Some locksmiths will give you a low price, then they will tell you there are more charges once they get to you. Asking a few questions will clear everything up so there is no confusion later.
Compare the invoice presented to you with the person's business card, license and even signage on their vehicle. If they all match, you're good to go. If the invoice has no company name, be wary. Unless they operate as an independent contractor under their own name, you might be facing a scam.
Did your locksmith ask you for identification? If not, they are not on the up and up. Imagine if some criminal called while you were on vacation and that locksmith came and let them into your home! A good locksmith will ensure that you are truly the owner of whatever is being opened.
Be sure to get an invoice which is itemized once the work is done. It should include parts, labor, additional fees, taxes and anything else charged to you, such as mileage. The more detailed it is, the better, especially if you end up disputing charges after the call is over.
While a license isn't mandatory in all states, it is still a sign that your locksmith truly cares about the quality of his work. If he doesn't have one, you might be better off hiring someone who does. The more proof of their quality available, the better your chances are that they're good. https://www.locksmithservice.us.com/auto-locksmith
If a new locksmith jumps right to you needing a new lock to fix your issue, be very wary of this person. Most locksmiths have the tools in their arsenal to open just about any lock. There are very few they can't tackle. If a replacement is being offered as the first and only option, you may be being scammed.
Try to get prices for simple tasks, like letting you into your home when you are locked out. Locksmiths with fixed rates are good to hire If the locksmith will not do this, call a different locksmith.
Don't assume that over-the-phone quotes will be the same as what you'll be charged once they get there. It's not easy for people to give you a number that's exact if they weren't able to see the damage themselves. You should be concerned if the in-person quote is many times more than what you were told on the phone.
You should hire a professional locked keys in car if you get locked out of your home, business or automobile. How do you find a trustworthy locksmith? The tips here will help guide you. This will help you make a good choice.
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