#shes so beautiful gdi

[beauforte]

then why don't you f i g h t for it?

[melspontaneus]

[damian-lil-babybat]

There's this kind of hybrid artstyle in comics lately that I wanna learn how to do (i just wanna stare at them coz its too pretty). Would it be an insult to call it hybrid? Hybrid in a way that its more anime-ish/cartoon-ish...but still very much in comic artstyle. It's very stylized too, and it's more softer and expressive on the face, and I love it.

I don't know if its a real thing, or I'm just seeing things in my fave artists in comics

Jorge Jimenez (Super Son Vol. 1)

Simone di Meo (Robin 2021 #16)

Belen Ortega (Batman 2016)

Yasmine Putri (Robin 80th Anniversary)

For chibi, theres

Dustin Nguyen (Lil Gotham 2021)

Juni Ba (Boy Wonder 2024)

Other notable artists that I like: (1) Patrick Gleason for giving us RSOB & for drawing kids who look like kids; (2) Joelle Jones for lineart; (3) Christopher Mittens for inking and panelling; (4) Otto Schmidt for character dynamic & fight scenes; (5) Gabriel Picolo for nostalgic DCAM feels

[crystallllines]

my god churro is the lone woman performing amid a bunch of men saturday night

what a brave girl! ugh i’m so proud of her and also fuckin terrified that i’ll hate the set. it’s supposed to be edgy humor, so i’ll just brace myself to expect what i hear from josh on the regular, i guess. but churro also said she was doing a couple jokes about our grandfather (the bad one), and frankly THAT makes me worried about how i’ll respond to someone making jokes about… about what? what he did? the trial? my god, charity was just a little baby when all of that happened.

i want tomorrow night to be about her, though, not about how i feel about someone making light of an ordeal that tore our family apart and hurt so many people i love— including churro— you know? so, like, while i was definitely encouraged to only ever look upon that issue with the utmost seriousness (you have to be serious if you’re testifying in a criminal trial, uh, helloooo), i will do my best to have a sense of humor about it

[akiyumeha]

I'm obsessed with the idea of tomarry, for one reason or another, starring in a muggle show (like running man).

Fem!Harry being famous in muggle world as well as wizarding world. Harriet Potter, the Chameleon of Modelling, so famous for her striking green eyes and nailing every single photoshoot she's ever been on. Maybe she's caught in public with Tom Riddle (who's a total unknown in muggle world, despite being top runner for Minister of Magic in Wizarding Britain) and fans go crazy bc holy shit who's this- this hunk/candy/mysterious man with their media darling?????

And so Tom is so amused by everything (he totally planned to be seen with Harriet BC he's a possessive asshole) and he agrees to a month-long shoot with Harriet for a show similar to running man. Except the show is more about doing random activities like sports, horse riding, singing/dancing skits and etc just for hell of it (bc people loves to see beautiful people fail at at least SOME things) EXCEPT.

EXCEPT THEY'RE BOTH TOO PERFECT!

Archery? Tom shoots only bullseye.

Horeseback riding? Harriet thinks it has nothing on quidditch.

Singing? Well, well, well. With Tom's silky smooth honey deep voice that he seemed to have been born with? Lets just say he def gained fans (if they weren't already swooning at his looks)

Shooting? Harriet's felt worse recoil from experimental spells and she still hits everything she wants to so...

Chess? Oh please. There's no way Tom Marvolo Slytherin would EVER lose at strategy games.

The staff is so close to giving up setting them to fail for funny shots so then they try to go for "big guns."

They bring in sport pros.

Specifically. Soccer Pros.

And holy shit. Holy shit they just watched THE Harriet Potter - angel extradinaire, voted top bachelorette, best girl of 20xx, most beautiful model of the generation, etc etc - do a midair flip to kick a ball midair to straighten across the half-field STRAIGHT INTO THE GOAL BC EVEN THE PROS ARE SHOOKT AT HOW FAST THIS SUPPOSEDLY NORMIE MOVES.

And Tom. Is Just. Lounging in the sidelines. Drinking a cocktail (that the staff certainly did not serve) and smiling so proudly and lovingly at Harriet from where she's turned to grin at him brightly (later, the screenshots and gif sets go viral).

Just. Tomarry Celebrity Power Couple that u love hate bc gdi can they do everything?

pls im weak

[archoniic]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐌 always enveloped him in those moments; the ones where it was simply the two of them. Comfort could be found in the gentle silence beneath the soft glow cast down by the moon. He welcomed her into his space; as he always would – for how could he deny her of anything? A soft laugh could be felt against her hair; easily settling with her against him. Did she notice the way his shoulders would quickly relax, the tension slipping from his frame. The Lord of Geo; who had often been noted to be as immovable as the mountains; moved for her. He would move those very same mountains if she so requested it. Morax created a barrier for her; arms around her to hold her in place – yet not quite tight enough to limit her movements. While he did not quite understand the human’s notions of such things like people being a home; he did have the sense that he was home with her. Morax sought her out more frequently; often now with no purpose, simply to exist in the same space as she. 

His gaze was on her; as it normally was. She held his undivided attention – even around others, she could easily claim it. Here; in the abode – he need not have his focus anywhere else. Morax would watch her movements; her expressions, committing each of them to his memory as a part of him; moments he would hope to preserve. Each precious to him in such a way he could not begin to explain. He did not know the words to put together with the feelings she arose in him. Like the many times before as she tucked strands of hair from his face, he would lean into it. His lips tugging into a small smile; he was content. Morax easily could stay here for eternity, perhaps selfish enough to one day request that. When the mortals would no longer need their guidance, perhaps then, they could be at peace simply just the two of them.

Would that be something she would wish for?

His arms around her, moving the furs back to her shoulders and trying to hold them there. Yet with every movement she would make; they would slip again. Even he would give up on trying to keep them there; hoping that his skin alone would be enough to keep the chill from her. Gentle circles would be traced from the end of his fingertips at her back, a barely there touch but enough that she would feel it. He did so without much thought. It simply being natural, as many things between them had become. The way he would gravitate to her side or angle himself in such a way that would have him face her. Her exploration continued; he would not stop her – he would deny her of nothing. He was hers; even if he had yet to truly understand what that meant.

Perfectly at peace; was this what the human’s meant by a sense of home? Could she feel the way his heart beat beneath her palm? Moreso at the words she spoke; “You need not ask,” he told her; a whisper. Am I not entirely yours? For beneath the light of the moon and the stars, did she see what remained unspoken behind his eyes? The feelings he could not yet put a name to; even as he had heard the mortals describe such feelings and had given it a specific word. He dare not say it; he did not understand the notion quite well enough yet to truly speak it. But he felt it. 

He raised his hand; bringing his knuckles gently down the side of her face before resting his palm against her cheek. His thumb stroking softly; “You never need to ask for such things.” He would tell her, it was not she who would bridge that gap – but rather he did. Does she know what she does to me? He wondered, the kiss soft; trying to show her exactly what he was feeling while unable to place words to it. 

I will be wherever you are.

This serenity blanketed them in the veil of nightfall; this was her domain, this was where she'd found her peace unconditionally; and yet it suited him as if he was borne for it much the same as she had been. That too, brightened a countenance as she'd settled before him before he could ever raise a voice in protest, leaving him with little other option than to, likely, wrap his legs around her much smaller frame as she sat. Rather proud of this accomplishment, she was, even if it was hardly a true feat to speak of. But this is where she wanted to be, ever close to him— never further away than this. What had become of her, truly? When did she come to crave his company, not merely on chanced occasions, but as often as this in some sort of perpetuity?

Before she had claimed this spot before him and atop the furs that the abode housed, she'd draped two others onto his shoulders and down his back; and when she'd settled so close, she'd nestled herself comfortably within the other end of them. And yet, this planned perfection was not to last as one of the furs soon abandoned her shoulder when her hand had risen. It was instinct, really, this innate need to brush those strands from his face; or perhaps it was yet another longing to touch him. Did he have this with her, too? And yet, the uncertainty of his wishes of and for her caused her no anguish— he'd never refused her, had seemed to seek her out as she'd sought him, hadn’t he? Both of her hands had now found themselves buried in those strands of ebony, onyx and coal (when had she become able to differentiate between shades of black?), having stroked them into the rest of his hair, before they retreated to each respective temple. By now, the furs had abandoned her entirely and she chuckled as the last fell from her, and yet it didn't hinder her explorations; these tracings of her fingers as if she'd never succumbed him to them. But it was the first like this, here, in this abode in the clouds that was his as it had been hers, under the light of the stars that enraptured him in their glow that had left her captivated.

He was beautiful; a fact she knew to be true to the very fibres of her being. Sometime during this reverie of her thoughts, her fingers had strayed, leaving his temples, cheeks and even his lips in their wake, though she had lingered at the latter— traced around and down across them. How was he so beautiful? And then, as they descended and passed his chin, one hand lingered there, allowing the other to drop all the way down to his chest where it came to rest. "I want to kiss you." A blatant admission spoken in whisper then, a secret kept by the clouds, the veil of night and the moon; and yet, she knew that she'd speak them much the same anywhere else. She'd tipped her chin, as the pad of her thumb lingered over his, seemingly halting in the midst of the approach of lips that were barely parted. "May I?"

A 'little' unplotted (but requested) something; please love me // @archoniic

[jtl07]

Genre: Historical romance

Location: Ocean

Object: a 2024 Volkswagen Golf GTI

i WILL break shenanigans

GDI NO YOU WON'T !!!!! we're all very mature and not at all stubborn here lol <3 i know nothing of historical fiction so forgive me for the meandering opening, but also thank you for helping me stretch and try new things and i will stop rambling now okbye

Beautiful, is what Beatrice thinks as she watches the sun set over the water, the ocean welcoming the gold into its arms. It's not the first time she's thought it, here; but it was the first time she'd thought it- here, at this shore, watching a sunset like this one, listening to the world quiet and soften into evening.

But unlike that time, the person who'd taught her to see it, who'd challenged so much of what she'd been taught, what she thought she knew - about life, about living, about love - isn't here.

Beatrice isn't surprised - she's not even disappointed. Resigned, yes. To a fate that she's known since she was young: a duty to her family, to her title, to a legacy larger than she. She knows all the reasons why she must leave. And yet. She finds herself lingering. Lingering until the sun's last gasp of light disappears from the horizon. Until gold gives way to darkness.

Beatrice gets to her feet, brushes the sand from her suit, the same one she'd worn when Ava had laughed and pulled her into the waves of this very same beach, a night that seems like years ago instead of days; Ava had laughed that laugh that always leaves Beatrice entranced, had danced and pulled her in close, had cupped her face and looked at Beatrice's lips when she'd called her handsome.

Beatrice sighs, coaxes the memory of that night into the back of her mind as gently as she can. Locks it away. It won't do to remember, now. Not when the morning after that night she'd been greeted by the news of her father's death and her family's summons back home.

She straightens. Nods to herself. She's wasted too much time. This - the silence, the dark, the loneliness creeping back into her heart - is her sign. She's waited (hoped, dreamed) long enough.

Beatrice turns from the ocean. In the morning, she'll wake before dawn and board the ship that will take her home, and she'll leave this Beatrice behind. The Beatrice that knew Ava; the Beatrice that loved Ava, here.

A sound too sharp to be the crashing of waves grabs Beatrice's attention. She's reminded suddenly that is alone and unarmed.

The sound grows. She sets her stance.

A flash of eerie blue light appears, splitting the space in front of her, a hole ripped through the air. Through it appears a contraption Beatrice has never seen before, a carriage of metal, roaring like some mechanical wild animal, and Beatrice has to jump back to avoid getting run over as it leaps through through the air and lands, sliding wildly on the sand.

Just as abruptly as it appeared, the light disappears. Leaving Beatrice and the machine, stuttering, grumbling, shaking. Finally, it too stills.

Then -

"Beatrice!"

Her arms are full before she even registers fully who it is. Not that Beatrice had to guess - there's only one person in the world who would throw themselves into Beatrice's arms this way, who burrows into her neck this way, who trusts her this way.

"Ava," she breathes (a miracle, a sign). Holds her closer.

"Oh my god, Bea, you're alive, Bea," Ava chokes out as she pulls back just enough to hold Beatrice's face in her hands. "You're still alive, thank god."

"Of course I'm alive," Beatrice says slowly. Feels her confusion grow as she takes in Ava fully: the terror and relief carved deep onto her face; the cut of her hair, shorter than it was just a day ago; clothes Beatrice has never seen on her before, of a style she's never seen ever. "Ava, what's happened? What is all this -" she runs her palms along the stiff fabric of her jacket; gestures to the machine over Ava's shoulder "- what is that?"

"It's a time travel machine," Ava answers without ever looking away from Beatrice. "I had to help Dr. Salvius make it. We tried to get a DeLorean but apparently something about the 2024 Volkswagen Golf GTI - not the 2023, that one almost blew us up - makes it work just as well -"

"Ava, I don't think I understood half the words that just came out of your mouth."

"Right." Ava shakes herself. Starts again. "The thing that matters is that Dr. Salvius was able to make it work, see? I'm here, now." Ava smiles, victorious. But just as quickly, her expression turns serious and her hands move from Beatrice's face to her shoulders. "Bea. You can't get on that ship."

Beatrice sighs. She doesn't want to spend their last night together rehashing the same argument they've had for nearly a week now. "Ava, please -"

"No, I mean it, Bea."

"- let's not do this now -"

"- there's going to be a terrible storm -"

"- storms happen all the time at sea -"

"- this one will be different, Bea!" The tremor in Ava's voice makes Beatrice pause; it's the horror in Ava's eyes that makes Beatrice uncertain. "The whole ship will go down," Ava says, eyes distant, voice quiet and uninflected. "No one will survive."

Beatrice swallows. Tries for logic. "You can't possibly know that -"

"I do! I saw it!" Ava's hands tighten to a painful degree but Beatrice lets her holds on, knows Ava needs it by the way her whole body shakes. "I saw you dead. We had a funeral and it was beautiful and you were dead. Beatrice -" Ava slumps forward and Beatrice shifts instantly to catch her, leads them both gently to kneel on the sand. Feels Ava's hands clutch at her as she sobs into Beatrice's chest. "Please, Beatrice. Don't make me go through that. Not again."

Beatrice hums at her softly, holds her close. She's unable to truly comprehend all of what Ava's said in the last few minutes, but Beatrice understands this: the desperation that's taken hold of Ava, the lies she's promised to never tell.

She fits the words together, plays them back as facts. Thinks of the ship, thinks of the life she's never really wanted.

So when Ava's sniffles start to settle, Beatrice pitches her voice low and asks, "What would you have me do?"

Beatrice feels Ava lift her head, finds herself looking into eyes shining from tears grieving a woman still alive; from the wonder of being believed. Ava glances over their shoulders to the machine - the time travel machine - behind them. She shifts onto her knees, takes Beatrice's hand between her own. Takes in a deep breath and says: "Come with me.

"We could go anywhere, any place, at any time - any year. We could go to the Alps and actually talk to those novelists you're always saying you'd like a word with. We could go to the future and dance and drink - anything you'd like. Anywhere.

"Would you?" Ava asks, faltering slightly.

Beatrice looks over at the machine, almost glowing in the darkness that's settled around them. Hears the waves crashing steady onto the shore. Hears the breath Ava takes in and holds; recognizes the sound of hope.

Beatrice sifts through the information Ava has laid at her feet. "You said the ship was destroyed in the storm?"

Ava nods. "Yes. There were no survivors." A helpless look passes over her face, travels down to her shoulders as a shrug. "Yours was one of the few bodies they were able to recover."

"And all of those who were never found were assumed dead." A multitude of scenarios play out simultaneously in Beatrice's mind, a web of ifs and thens, of futures suddenly possible. "So even if they didn't find my body -" feels Ava's hands tighten around hers and knows Ava's following the thread.

Beatrice takes in a breath and holds it just as Ava did, the way Ava has taught her. She looks into Ava's eyes, shining with the same hope she knows is in her own. "Ask me again."

A smile is already growing on Ava's face. "Beatrice," she says, breathless at first, then strengthening with every word. "If I left, would you come with me?"

The words are barely out of Ava's mouth before Beatrice has hers there in answer. "Yes," Beatrice says into the kiss, smiling into Ava's lips, "Yes, I would." Kisses her again and holds her close. "I will."

[theharmonious13]

I was so excited and hyped after watching the official channel's walkthrough of Chapter 1 daily life I went to Tumblr immediately to purposefully spoil myself of the trial and who the killer was. I haven't actually watched the investigation/trial yet.

Before I checked though, I thought the killer would be Wenona. Big surprise though (sarcastic), it was not her. With her talent and personality, I thought the blackmail/secrets motive would be devastating for her chances of survival (as for not attending the gaming tournament). And yes, despite what every official and non-official Danganronpa source has taught me, I chose to ignore how convenient the gaming event alibi was for all of the attendees involved. Also who knew that predicting based off of vibes would lessen the chances of a correct guess.

.

.

.

WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE EVA???

She was one of my favourites, and I thought she would get a redemption arc gdi

I thought she and Wolfgang would make it to Chapter 5 easily as they're both prominent characters, the fact they BOTH die chapter 1 is devastating. Well done to the creator's for defying expectations. Although now that they're both gone Chapter 2 onwards is going to feel like Damon and the B cast 😂. (I do love the other characters, but I hope you get what I mean).

Eva's SO pretty, the most beautiful character of the whole cast and I will fight people on that. I love how tragic her backstory is, and her convoluted yet justifiable reasons for why she acts the way she does. I am already automatically drawn to stoic and mysterious characters, but became even more fascinated with her when I learnt Eva feels the role of Ultimate Liar fits her, and that she felt she had to create an intimidating title to survive the killing game.

At first I was disappointed that Eva's talent ended up being something as lame sounding as the Ultimate Mathlete instead of the badass title of Ultimate Liar, but in a way that generic reaction helped strengthen her character her me. That's what she was afraid of, judgement, and the majority of the cast/audience immediately thought less of her the moment that crucial piece of information was revealed. I correctly predicted in that pharmacy scene that Eva was trying to get the other student's not to look at her profile, and was amused when proven right.

I can't wait to finish watching the rest of Chapter 1 to get all of the plot and character interactions.

[nein-pirate-lords]

the four times they didn't, and the one time they did

i learned that it was oc kiss week and i refused to miss it gdi, have these hopeless d&d lesBIans

this takes place in a "canon" world, but both characters are OC's - one is an OC interpretation of a canonical figure. it's also long. so brace yourselves. xD

google docs version

one. first

The first time Ariadne Brenacia saw Lady Marilei Julianne Vessar de Rolo, she’d wondered what it might be like to kiss her.

It’s a horrible errant thought for a young acolyte cleric to have, only nineteen years old, standing in the crowds of her very first Highsummer Festival in Whitestone. The thrumming energy of the city is like a hum in her veins, as her dark eyes take in the splendor of the Sun Tree and the decorations that hang from it. A cup of summer-ripened wine is clasped half-full in her hand, her stomach full of vegetable skewers and freshly baked bread, and Ariadne finds that smiling is easy on such a day.

Maybe it’s the wine, or simply the drunken feeling of warm sunlight dancing across her skin, flashing from her newly received holy symbol, but when the noble family of Whitestone makes their appearance amidst a group of guards that sweep them through the main square-

Ariadne catches little more than a glimpse, but she sees an elegant young woman stride by with fair skin and a head of dark hair streaked to one side with white. She walks in sync with her family’s blue and gold, an ornamental golden band around her neck, and there is no mistaking her as the scion of the city’s leading family. It’s funny how much Ariadne can notice even in the briefest of seconds, from the heiress’ high cheekbones to her sharp blue eyes brimming with something that Ariadne recognizes.

The thought flashes by, and Ariadne’s stomach clenches in horror.

She should have known that joining one of the other acolytes who’d grown up here at a brothel had been a bad idea.

Ariadne hadn’t solicited any services, of course- She’d had one mug of ale (she’d been too flabbergasted to order anything else and it had tasted terrible) and had escaped by awkwardly slipping out into the night the second that one of the courtesans had started paying attention to her.

But there’d been a couple, a pair of women, and whether or not one of them was a customer Ariadne had not known- but the way their bodies had been pressed together, arms-

That is not to say that Leonie and Ezil’tah had never kissed in front of her; in fact, they’d done it all the time, and found little ways to express their partnership that Ariadne had recognized as their being very much in love. Perhaps it had just been one of those instances where Ariadne had never really thought about it being her, about being on the receiving end of a kiss, of someone’s affection-

Why she has that thought now of all times, she isn’t entirely sure. In fact, she can’t help but feel slightly ill at her own precociousness. It’s the wine. It’s definitely the wine. She doesn’t drink any more of it.

Long ago, she had learned that she wasn’t worthy of anything as good and glowing as that, the night she had been left on a cobblestone street without a home that would allow her back within its doors. She needed to remember her place.

This visceral reaction, all from a look. All from a simple, wayward whisper of a daydream about kissing a beautiful young woman.

two. forbidden

It’s a stolen moment, staring up at the stars.

Eighteen years later, Ariadne Brenacia and Marilei de Rolo stand along the cliff-sides in Zephrah, their breath barely misting in the air as they look up at the night sky and talk about fathers and possibility. Their bellies are warm with food and drink, the faint light the doorway to her mothers’ house just barely warming their backs.

There is much still ahead of them, and if Ghost is well enough to travel tomorrow…

Marilei murmurs from beside her, “It’s getting cold. We should probably head back in.”

The question is on the tip of her tongue, a request to stay, before Ariadne relents to her own misgivings. “I think I’ll stay out here a little longer. Enjoy the quiet for a bit.”

She shouldn’t think it’s beautiful when Marilei offers her a small smile.

There’s a brief pause. What for, Ariadne doesn’t know. Until-

Ariadne very nearly jumps out of her skin when Marilei’s hand, gentle as a butterfly, falls to her shoulder. It rests there for only a moment, before the heiress squeezes. A small gesture. But one that makes a flood of warmth surge through Ariadne in a way she wishes she could deny.

“Good night, Ariadne.”

When Ariadne looks to her, she can’t help but suck in the smallest of breaths. Words are lost on her, if only for a moment, before all she can do is nod, and offer a small smile back.

Unbidden, her eyes flicker towards Marilei’s lips just before the other woman smiles and releases her shoulder, and heads back towards the house to retire for the evening.

What in the name of the Dawnfather had she even been thinking? It was pointless, ridiculous, to even be entertaining those kinds of thoughts at all. Had it not only been a day since they’d re-established that Marilei, first and foremost, had been their employer? Still was, technically, by most definitions of the word? And not only that, she was a Lady of Whitestone, where Ariadne could barely call herself a simple member of staff at a temple.

She is in Marilei’s employ. Maybe a friend. That was all she ever could be.

It ought to be, is, forbidden to think otherwise.

three. caught.

Ariadne had caught one too many glimpses.

In the aftermath of the drink, she wonders if she doesn’t wish she could have its blissful warmth if only for a moment more, just to bask in the glow of holding Marilei’s hand in hers.

Her hand still burns where she’d grasped it, but not in an unpleasant way. Ariadne can’t help but flex her fingers as she looks down to it, now alone in her fancy dormitory room that the Pansophical had given them. The stress, and the horror, of what they had gone through in the past twenty-four hours all but melts away in the presence of Marilei in her thoughts, so Ariadne clings to it with more strength than she should.

“Are you going to be alright in the morning?”

Marilei’s question had inspired a scrambling silence in Ariadne, as she’d struggled to find the right words to say.

In horror, Ariadne realizes that she had almost blurted out a request, blurted out a blatant flirt, in almost inviting Marilei to find out for herself. Or maybe even just an ask for a goodnight kiss, something, anything-

Instead, she’d only chuckled.

“I’ll be here in the morning, one way or the other.”

“I know you will be.”

So steadfast. And that smile-

Ariadne knows better.

Had she been caught in her affections, or had she caught Marilei in hers? She dwells on that question, stews in it, and comes to a conclusion that she isn’t sure she likes.

Because she’s fairly certain it’s both.

And that… makes things so much more complicated.

four. desperate. No. No.

Her vision had clouded over in red, the moment that Marilei had fallen. A hot, feral rage had washed over her, one that hadn’t even struck her when she’d found her own mother’s body- no. This wrong had an immediate target, an immediate source of vengeance, and Ariadne had not even thought twice about it. Claws had dug into that devil’s throat, as she slammed her to the ground and hissed in her ear as necrotic magic seeped from her fingertips and dissolving into Marilei’s killer’s skin.

Thank the gods that the diamonds worked.

Ariadne’s hands had shaken as she pressed the gems into Marilei’s unmoving, bloodied chest. How many opportunities had she wasted, how many moments had she squandered? She could not, would not, accept Marilei’s eyes remaining blank, her body staying cold. No. She needed to see her smile again, needed to hear her laugh again-

“You’re okay,” she whimpers to the air, to the diamond, as she frantically grasps for the same holy magics that had just obliterated their enemies. She needed it now to heal, to bring her back, please, Dawnfather, bring her back- “You’re okay, you’re okay.” The magic hums beneath her skin as there’s a brief glow beneath her hands. Ariadne tries not to get sick at how her own hands are smeared red with Marilei’s blood.

When Marilei sucks in a breath as her soul is plucked from oblivion, Ariadne almost cries right then and there.

Her hands rapidly smooth Marilei’s hair back as she helps her up, pulls her to a sitting position and eventually to her feet. There’s still a battle to be won, but right now, in this moment, there is only one thing that matters.

It takes more self-restraint than it should to keep herself from pressing her lips to the Lady of Whitestone’s.

Later, in the quiet of battle’s aftermath, as she helps clean Marilei off and see to the cursed wounds that whip had left-

Her hands tremble for a couple of different reasons, as she gently applies the balm to Marilei’s throat.

The distant look in Marilei’s eyes, the soft tremble to her words, is not something that is going to go away easily. First and foremost, Ariadne is a healer, and she can see that as easily as she can see the sunlight beginning to seep in through the flaps of their tent.

Now is not the time. Marilei needs to heal.

But there is a fear in Ariadne now that she can’t push away. A worry that, not even two nights later, has her knocking on the Lady’s door if only to sleep in the same room, sleep where she can hear Marilei breathing and where she can be of help if the Lady needs some kind of protection in the night.

Ariadne does not know how many more opportunities she can allow to pass her by.

FIRST.

“Come with me.”

Ariadne looks up from where she sits dejected on the floor, knees curled defensively in front of her, to see that Marilei had pushed herself to her feet, and an elegant hand is extended towards her in an offer to help her up too.

Instinctively, she wants to take that hand, wants to slide her palm against the Lady of Whitestone’s- but both of her hands stay firmly clasped to her shins. Something about it feels too forward, too presumptive, and she-

She can’t. Her eyes fall to a small scuff mark in the inn room’s wooden floor.

“Ariadne. Please?”

Fuck. Ariadne breathes through her nose before blinking and looking back up at Marilei. She can’t deny her anything.

“Where are we going?” she asks, the question hardly more than a hoarse croak against all the tears she’d just shed. It should be shameful, that part of her still wonders whether or not Marilei has grown sick and tired of the increasing displays of emotion. Perhaps the Lady doesn’t want to go anywhere at all, and simply wants to bring her to a mirror to see the shame in her tears. Ariadne would deserve it, maybe, if she did.

But she knows that isn’t what this is.

She’s already moving to put her hand in Marilei’s before the Lady has even answered her.

“Just to get some fresh air.” Marilei’s smile is intoxicating, kind, gentle. Understanding. Ariadne thinks not for the first time that she’s too kind. Her grip is warm and steady as she easily pulls the winged cleric to her feet. “The gods know I’ve had to make my fair share of escapes from feeling like the world is too heavy on my shoulders. I know a place or two.”

It’s impossible not to trust her.

Marilei allows her a couple of sweeps of Prestidigitation, (“You look fine, Ariadne-“), albeit with a slightly bemused smile, before gently drawing her towards the door and leading her downstairs through the tavern proper before heading out into the early evening air. Ghost and Rigby are still gone, and Ariadne can only hope that they haven’t gotten into any trouble-

But it’s also easy to lose worries when she can’t help but swim in the blue eyes that watch her every movement. Ariadne is also acutely aware that their hands are still interlocked as Marilei begins to lead her down the city streets.

A gentle breeze sweeps across them, cool against Ariadne’s skin and refreshing as it ruffles through the feathers of her wings (when had she gotten used to them?) - the air here is not as crisp or cool as it would be in Zephrah, or Whitestone, but it’s refreshing to breathe in all the same.

There is a significant part of her still… processing. Reeling. She hadn’t meant for the confrontation with Renalda to get so out of control, to venture so far into- Her throat closes as everything that was said begins to circulate again, as she remembers-

“Marilei?”

The taller woman pauses, and looks back to her. The streets here are quiet, and they’re in a half-alleyway, the shadows of the evening enveloping them in a semblance of privacy.

Ariadne has trouble getting words out around the lump in her throat.

“Promise me that I won’t ruin your life.”

Marilei immediately tilts her head as a concern washes over her expression - she blinks. “Ariadne-“

“I’m-“ No. No. She’s doing this now? “I know that there’s- that we’re- whatever happens between us, if we can actually stop Ciaphas and save everything, I just-“ Ariadne opens and closes her mouth several times before she can keep going. Marilei waits. “I don’t want to just be something that you regret.”

The admission comes out in a whisper.

Marilei breathes in.

The heiress turns to her more fully, and hesitantly reaches for her other hand with her free one. Ariadne shakily gives it. In return,

Marilei gives both of her hands a gentle squeeze.

“You could never be that,” she murmurs. There is something between a smile and a saddened grimace on her face, before it melts into something more thoughtful. “I’ve known for a while that you could never be that. I don’t…” She releases one of Ariadne’s hands and slowly reaches up to brush back a strand of wayward dark hair away from Ariadne’s face. The cleric swallows and holds her breath. “I don’t know what she said to you, or what happened, but- I hope you can see yourself the way I do, someday.”

“Marilei, I-“

“May I?”

When had she gotten so close? She’s- her lips are right there, and Marilei is- she’s getting closer-

“I think I’m in love with you.” The words escape Ariadne’s mouth before she can stop them- for Pelor’s sake-

Marilei doesn’t move away. Instead, she smiles. “I know. And I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

When their lips finally meet, tentative at first and then decidedly not, it is almost as if Syngorn ceases to exist around them. Or maybe it’s easy to forget where they are the moment Ariadne’s wings (whether she’d bid them to or not) begin to encircle them both, keeping them close and protected and warm as hands begin to explore new, exciting, affectionate frontiers.

And if anyone notices the young de Rolo entangled with a half-elven siren in the alleyway, they know damn well to mind their own business.

[wunderschon-lieblich]

Fuck It I’m Not Done

Biker headcanons for the AC Women that torment my brain

@kassandras-one-braincell you’ve broken me with this tbh I'm in shambles (affectionate) OG post here also NSFW warning this is a no minors post (or at the very least stop at the warning gdi)

Soma is sophisticated and expensive. Not gonna say too much here since I went into more detail previously but~ Imagine vintage restored bikes that are shiny and perfect all lined up in a pristine garage space with polished tool boxes that are filled with all her necessities to work on them and keep them gleaming. Professionally photographed, framed posters of you posed with her bikes adorn the walls of the space. She even picked lingerie to match each bike!

She only really rides one or two of her collection regularly, the majority are mostly for show. I imagine she’d have a cruiser with a good passenger seat on the back so she can take you on long scenic rides to beautiful locations, and you can bet your ass she’d have it shipped overseas on your vacations so she can take you all over the world on it. Soma is all class and polish, so her riding gear would definitely reflect that. High quality leather and helmets with coms will keep the two of you safe, comfortable and connected on your rides. She would probably have matching riding suits custom made for the two of you. I could just see her doing that.

Kassandra as the cocky performance rider. She’d have pick up lines for days, all the innuendo about taking you for a ride and how she knows how to handle curves. She’d chat you up good, and land a date for that same weekend.

She’d show up with an extra helmet and jacket for you, and she’d make sure it was all properly adjusted. In the og post about this concept, it says that you kiss her right when the helmets come off. I agree, and I’d say that you want to kiss her the moment she slides the helmet onto you and starts doing up the chin straps. For anyone who’s never worn a motorcycle helmet, they don’t have a clip like one for a bicycle would, it’s a strap that gets looped through two d-rings, and it’s kinda tricky at first. So, imagine: gazing up at her while she’s looking all intently at you with those gorgeous dark eyes, her fingertips working the thin strap quickly and efficiently on muscle memory. When she’s done she puts her hands on either side of it to check that it’s snug on your head and looks into your eyes for a moment longer than necessary. It’s electric.

When you arrive and she takes hers off, you’re still kind of fumbling with the unfamiliar clasp. She notices and hooks a finger through the loop, giving it a quick tug to undo it and free you of the helmet, whole time she's got that sexy little smile on her face. She takes it off of you and sets it on the seat behind you, arms reaching around your body to do so. At that moment you’re looking up at her and she’s so close. You can’t stop yourself from leaning in and up on your toes to steal a kiss. She’s a little surprised but doesn’t falter about kissing you back. Her hands rest so naturally on your waist. It’s short and sweet and leaves you both giddy with butterflies.

Your first date with her would be something sweet and romantic like taking you to a fancy park or perhaps a botanical garden. You’d walk around holding hands for hours and she’d be all chuffed that you gave her a kiss upon arrival to the date location. It would make her feel so confident and bold, wrapping her arms around you and allowing the affection to flow naturally. I think she would feel nervous about it being too much too soon but you just lean into it and look at her with stars in your eyes and it shuts that doubt right up. Very much a uhaul lesbian relationship in this case you would just fall so completely for each other and be comfortable together immediately. First date lasting three days kind of love story.

Eivor does motocross competitively and is a big name in the game. She also does trail riding but it’s more for fun so not her focus. She’s definitely the most reckless rider of the bunch but takes protective precautions seriously, bc she knows that she loves to go fast, push limits and pull stunts. However, if anyone else is on the bike with her she’s much more cautious and safe with her driving. She'd def pop some wheelies with you on the back if you were ok with it.

In this au I think she’d have a modest but comfortable house pretty far out of town on a decent chunk of land. She’d have a practice track built in her backyard with a trail looping around the edge and through the woods of her property. She’d do laps every day to stay at the top of her game, and just to enjoy the ride.

Her garage would be well organized but not shiny and fancy like Soma’s. Hers is functional and well used, in a separate building from the main house. Very Dad's Garage vibes in there I think. She’d love working on her own bikes, but I think she’d leave her competition bike’s maintenance to her trusted pro mechanic Gunnar.

Now I mentioned in my last reblog how I imagine they’d all have pics of you on their motorcycles, and that they’d have very different vibes.

Soma and Kassandra would display them like a trophy. Not publicly, but up on the walls of their own spaces. Eivor? She’s possessive. She wouldn’t want to have a photographer ruining the intimacy of your photos no matter who it was.

(here's where it gets nsfw)

Eivor would ride the two of you out to a nice secluded part of her property. A wooded area where she has a picnic table set up. You’d be all wrapped up in her riding jacket and pants, underneath them would be a pretty little number she picked for you, something simple and sexy like a matching bra and panty set with some lace. (I think Eivor is a bit too simple minded to prefer elaborate lingerie. Just show her something hot that she knows how to remove without finding a thousand clasps please and thank you)

She’d prop the bike up on its stand and use a Polaroid camera to take the pictures. The first ones you’re in the matching set with her jacket and your boots still on, straddling the bike with your hands on the bars as if you’re driving. She gets multiple angles, from the side so she can appreciate your legs, from the front so she can admire your breasts peeking out from the opening of her jacket.

The whole time she’d praise you saying “that��s a good girl, posing so pretty for me, now lean back let me see you- ah just like that, gods you’re perfect” she’s such a sexy photographer. By the time she’s done you’re about ready to hump the seat til you cum and she’s so horny she’s breathing manually. She knew that would happen, of course, and wore a strap under her jeans for the occasion.

After your photo shoot, she takes the dildo out of her harness and slides it back inside you, then helps you put her clothes back on over your underwear. She has you ride back with her to the house while you’re stuffed full like that. Every bump and jolt makes you whimper and dig your fingers into her. It’s not a long ride but you’re ready to rip every shred of her clothes off by the time you’re back

The pictures are kept in a cabinet by her work bench, there’s a few on the inside of the door held up with magnets, mostly the first few from the session, where you’re still partially clothed and gazing at the camera with your pretty, sultry eyes. The rest are tucked away in a small black photo album for her eyes only, the last few depict you laid back on the seat, bra gone, one of her strong hands cupping your breast. You’re holding your panties to the side, wet cunt stuffed full of her strap, your kissed bruised lips are parted in a moan. She keeps that one very secret, and takes it with her whenever she has to travel without you.

anyway now that you know I'm a total whore for this concept

This is my first time posting a full on hc set like this lemme know what you think and read the og post if you haven't yet! It sent me spiraling into madness <3

[defira85]

Art by Yuming Li. Made me think of Kass from a gentler universe, somewhere kinder, where she is instead an angel of death. A different lens than her father's, but still, ultimately, the light reveals her.

GDI Morgan it's too early on a Thursday for me to be all weepy about Kass and this is just so beautiful and now I'm having heartbreaking thoughts about alternate timelines and I need to go lie down...

[phoenixwrites]

Do you think joe and Grace broke up, bc of steddies? If not, what's your thoughts? Why it was messy and why did they break up?

No, I don't think we know the real reason why Joe and Grace broke up--I think we can only posit.

My impression is the scheduling conflicts, long-distance, and the online harassment of Grace from Quinnies, Steddies, and a few toxic fans of hers were all contributing factors.

But after a year or so of absolute secrecy and the now frequency with which Grace gushes about her new beau and posts cute coupley pics (with her dad, who was once the Captain of VQ)--I think there's a relief and freedom she didn't have before. And a lot less online harassment.

That's my impression and of course, at the end of the day, it really isn't our business.

I refer back to Brentana--back in the Emma Approved fandom, iykyk. Brent Bailey and Joanna Sotomura, the stars of Emma Approved, started dating and it was fucking cute as hell.

There was something really lovely knowing that this wasn't *just* two incredible actors, there was true emotion here.

But, as much as I loved them as a couple, they broke up. My *impression* was that Joanna wanted something of a serious commitment and Brent did not. My impression grew stronger when Joanna's next relationship became very serious, eventually leading to an engagement, a marriage, and now a beautiful baby she's very careful not to post pics of. Even better, she just got her break on Apple TV playing Sunny, the very cute robot, and God I wish I had Apple TV so I could support the shit out of her but my relationship ended and he had the Apple TV credentials, gdi... (IF ANYONE WANTS TO SHARE THEIR APPLE TV LOGIN...)

So, do I miss Brentana? Sure I do! Do I miss VQ? Absolutely I do.

But I more than anything, I want Joanna--and Grace--to be happy and fulfilled, and in their new relationships, they are.

I want to be best friends with Joanna Sotomura--I've had her in mind for AGES and I'm still determined that she get a frontrunning audition to Hell's Heresies (yeeep, there has been film interest, my agent is in discussion with another about film rights purchase, sooo...).

But I don't know her. I'm just a fan, just like with Grace.

[virtualgirladvance]

Strange sculpture, of flesh that dreams of steel. A flower that blossomed among flames, a chute that grew on bitter soil and rose above it. Somewhere on a farm is a strange machine, a mind of tomorrow trapped in a painful yesterday. There is a machine in the trappings of woman, whose shell becomes more ill-fitting by day. It is common to see such artifacts overtaken by nature, vines sprawling and lazily lapping over long-forgotten relics of ingenuity. But not here. Not her. The moss clings and cloys, but does not take her. This machine will not yield to the dirt as her makers, she will not be rooted in empty dust. The gears are of sturdier make.

She has much to prove. Not forgotten, not farm equipment- Heart surely broken, yet it beats. Eyes so watery, yet they see so far. Mind so fractured, yet so brilliant. This machine doesn't yet know it. Sometimes she believes she's dead. Sometimes she believes she's a toy. She believes herself many things.

One day, she may dream of tomorrow, and find herself there. That's where she always rests for me.

GDI I'm crying, that was beautiful, thank you

[silveredwood]

I want changli so bad

🙇🏻 gurl u got me and my in game resources for u

She remind me of a beautiful phoenix 😭👏 gdi i love her theme ☝️

[folkinsomnia]

thoughts on 1989 TV?

I've not yet actually listened to the whole thing because of life hectic-ness, namely foot surgery that has made fun things like Consuming Music I Love suck a lot. So I'm listening all the way through today while I do some scanning for work! This is gonna be a sort of "live react" stream of consciousness thing that I'll ideally edit before bombarding you with my Thoughts :-)

In general, everything sounds so much crisper and I am LIVING

I've always been kinda meh towards style aside from the last chorus, but there's something sooo much better about style tv!! Haven't listened to the OG 1989 in ages, so I'd need to compare to really explain it (and it might be obvious, but I'm not the greatest at remembering the little details from pre-reputation albums bc rep was my first as a a Fan™️)

Her matured and vastly improved vocals are to die for and have been throughout the ~taylor's version~ journey. MWAH!

OOTW is already a gorgeous song, but tv is, again, just so...!!!!!

AYHTDWS is already one of my favorites, so the rerecording has me EMOTIONAL it's so beautiful. Hold me I listened twice (which I consider a sin on full listen-throughs of albums, though I AM a horrid sinner, so)

I still hate shake it off, but this one's much better. Milder hate, more like distaste now, sort of like a mushy thing on the bottom of my shoe instead of the bottom of my sock

IWYW makes me sprint thru the streets at 5 AM even with my recently removed stitches owie

WHAT IS THE SECRET SAUCE HERE?? Do the drums sound better? Idk!

I know bad blood is considered cringey but listen. It's also so fun and the cringe makes us free. Maybe the harmonies on the chorus have more parts?? Gdi i need to do one to one comparisons with all of these. Already salivating over the Kendrick Lamar version at the end of the album I'm excited for him

It's official that 1989 tv has made me really like songs I've been ambivalent or mildly positive towards (like style and wildest dreams now), so that's like actually huge imo

Everything is so pretty! (I'm half asleep now help I'm at WORK)

I Know Places is one of those TS songs I rarely listen to and then I listen and am like "why the fuck aren't I listening to this one daily" and IKP tv has me feeling that More Intensely

Clean is yet another fave and clean tv makes my very soul tremor. Don't look at me for a week

Wonderland continues to be a fucking transcendental experience that electrocutes my spinal column <3 the bridge is even MORE earth-shattering than it was in the original. please see my original thoughts from 4.5 years ago

these feelings re: Wonderland still stand and always will

The first chord of YAIL kind of sounds like the first chord of Give Great Thanks by Dorian Electra lmao

Still not crazy about YAIL but the lyrics and the ****** lore...phew!

New Romantics tv is suuuch a good example of how gorgeous tayla's lower register has gotten. It's so much richer and I guess more well supported?

I've heard that Slut! is actually emotional af...not ready

"I might as well be a joke in love" HOO BOY I SEE NOW WHAT FOLKS HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT

"Got lovesick all over my bed" is SO !!!!!!

Okay yeah Slut! is so fucking good

Say Don't Go has me reeling. I can see why it didn't make the final cut (she is just a little too unlike her brethren to the point that, imo, she wouldn't fit well into the original album as well as the songs that made it do), but it's soooo ggoooooOOOD!!! It gives me almost like...cousin of 1989 and Lover and Midnights vibes?

Now That We Don't Talk...!!!! These vault songs fucking rule, dude.

The end of NTWDT 🤝 Mastermind??

The I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it ⏩️ I broke his heart 'cause he was nice pipeline and how it rejects the continuation of a cycle of passivity while simultaneously continuing the emotional burden carried by women in their relationships!! And also a cycle of cruelty! These are half-baked thoughts but they ARE thoughts I'm having!! An english degree was wasted on me because my textual analysis skills are still so juvenile,,

Is It Over Now Boo From Fleabag Moment

I WAS RIGHT THE KENDRICK LAMAR BAD BLOOD VERSION IS SO FUCKING AJGKDHAGXGBX AHHHHHH (dats me yellin)

[sayakxmi]

[Magi rewatch] Episode 7: His Name Is Sinbad [Part 3]

Is that your man, half of the Magi fandom?

A small change, in the manga Sinbad was more "consider several options & pick one", here he's just "this is how I see it & I'm gonna stick to it".

Also, gdi, I love these backgrounds.

Aladdin's doubting if they're doing the right thing far more than in the manga. Like, I think in the manga he just... didn't. He was kinda more interested in getting it done & finding Alibaba.

And, tbh, that kinda makes sense? He crossed the desert, he's kinda used to bandits being dangerous and all that.

No, fr, he sounds like he doesn't want to do it, but will do anything to see Alibaba again.

I love him.

Also, I've really said my 3 fav characters were Alibaba, Ja'far & Kouen, and now I'm like I'VE ABANDONED MY BOY. There is another. Sphintus my beloved. Get ready, bc I will spam him in Magnostadt Arc so hard.

"Sinbad might look suspicious" LMAO

The way he quickly moves to hide behind him. 10/10

Really love the music in this entire scene.

This one sounds a bit like the slowed down Enfin Apparu.

In the manga Sinbad just tells them to take what they need, just not to kill anybody. Here he's more encouraging. Not to kill, but, like, in general. The manga was more like giving permission, and here he's telling them "you should take action if you believe what they're doing to be unfair". Which, y'know, is kinda stupid when I think about it. Anime!Sinbad is fucking lucky, because this action could have lead to a political mess, like, bro could've just said that their king sucks & they should fight him. Not a good move, Anime King Sinbad!

Like, I know Sinbad will end up involving himself in internal affairs of Balbadd, but the anime makes it look pretty bad because of this scene. Supporting an existing rebellion is one thing, but encouraging to rebel is a different one.

Also, here Morgiana & Aladdin are searching for Ja'far, cuz they think Sinbad might've been attacked. In the manga it's Morgiana who hears something & informs Aladdin.

There's another thing about Morgiana & her being sidelined in the future - she's rarely singled out, especially later on. But the anime does that already. On the one hand, it's cool to see Morgiana & Aladdin be a team, but on the other, Morgiana oftentimes is viewed as a part of a group, by Alibaba specifically. If he ever thinks about her in the first place. Aladdin and Morgiana. Hakyruu and Morgiana. It's hardly ever just Morgiana.

I've told you! No Aladdin seeing Alibaba, just Morgiana noticing something wrong & informing him, then taking him away from the danger.

Beautiful.

Looks fun.

Ok, this is something I like. The manga basically infodumps about these swords, but here, it comes up in an actual conversation. "Your red fogblade of illusion horrifying as always, Zainab. / Shut up, and use your yellow fogblade of corrosion, Hassan."

Stunning.

Skillz.

Valse Hot playing as they appear.

Morgiana wrecking shit. Neat.

Ok, it's sth I don't think I've commented on the manga read, but Cassim going ??? it's a girl?? Is a mix of "kind of funny", and a nice characterization moment. Both in the anime & manga he looks surprised and kind of guilty. He might be an asshole, but he wouldn't hit a girl. Makes sense, given his backstory.

Also, I'm pretty sure Morgiana's Mariam's age if she, you know, were alive.

Also, that Alibaba with his stupid haor & one eye visible. As if there were any doubts who he was. Well, I get WHY, but in the manga he actually hid his face properly.

Ah, here Cassim just keeps going, in the manga it's Zainab who basically tells him "doesn't matter, she's the enemy!"

Also, another thing I haven't commented on in the manga - Cassim very early shows that he is the real leader. He's the one to take command in this mess, while Alibaba just stands back & watches.

Determination monolog. His priority is Alibaba, he needs to find him, and he needs to deal with these guys to do this.

(insert Saya's short scream here)

Staring.

Realization.

I love how quiet it gets, btw.

-gasp- IT'S HIM!