#there’s SO much of this fabric my guess is like. at least 3 or 4 yards

[girlblocker]

you could make cute little bandanas with some of the fabric :D

yeah I could! that sounds better than my current ideas which are

1) tablecloth

2) circus tent

[andyoullhearitagain]

Every Starfleet Uniform Ranked By How Annoying The Sleeve Is To Sew, Part 2

Part 1

6. TOS Men's Uniform:

Here we have 1. Quite a severe curve 2. with a zipper in it 3. an invisible zipper at that 4. with pattern matching through the zipper at the collar

5. in velour (slippery). Woof.

7. Disco:

OK we've got two points of pattern matching, but they don't have to be too precise because they've got this round shiny striped piece between them. Of course that piecing means we're basically setting a sleeve in twice, but I will concede that the stretch will be more forgiving than a woven would be. Add in the piecing on the bicep and two different sticky rubber-y fabrics for further difficulty. 

8. TNG Version 2B and Voyager:

All the work of a tailored sleeve with an added inverse corner in an intersection of four seams.

PLUS two points of pattern matching, which is very tricky in an armsyce because you're trying to get the pitch right. You can see in TNG they often have trouble with it and have either a jog in the pattern matching

or too much ease in the wrong place to force the pattern to match.

They seem to have figured it out by Voyager though. I'm also fairly certain they have raglan shoulder pads in them instead of regular ones, which isn't really harder I guess but is a bit odd (no shade, they're incredibly flattering).

9. DS9/ TNG Movies:

All the difficulties of the TNG armscye and now we've added trim, meaning we really have four points of pattern matching instead of two. I could be persuaded that the contrast pieces are applied over the upper sleeve piece instead of pieced, which is easier than what TNG is doing.

10. Enterprise:

I think this is regular raglan sleeve and not some kind of half raglan/half set in sleeve like we see in TNG. Either way it's a bit easier than the TNG sleeve because the trim and yoke are applied on top and top stitched. But we've still got that mitered corner in our bias trim and our four points of pattern matching on the shoulder seam. And then we've also added like four zippers!!!

11. Picard:

What did the stitchers do to this designer? FOUR inverse corners (I guess at least it doesn't intersect a seam this time) PLUS the piecing at the cuff, PLUS all the pattern matching at the armscye, and all in stretch (I think). The only reason it's not the most difficult sleeve is because it looks fairly flat and I bet if you do a nice tight hand baste you can get everything lined up on the first try. Also this is not strictly speaking part of the sleeve but those little corners in the yoke? Good grief.

12. TNG Version 2A:

Never in my life have I seen an armscye like this. What is this even called? How do you construct it? I suppose I would sew the sleeve pieces together, set them in the armscye, then sew the raglan/yoke pieces together at the shoulder seam and then stitch them all the way across the front and then all the way across the back. But good grief. The ONLY other sleeve I could find remotely like this is this 1940s Simplicity pattern (it's on ebay if you want it).

With a few added seams you can imagine what these pattern pieces must look like.

13. TNG Version 1:

All the malarkey of 2A except you've got to do it in spandex. I'd pick wool any day. We also have a second yoke (?!) so now we have to do that little inverse corner TWICE and also add piping. Never in my life have I done an intersection of piping correctly the first time.

And then on top of all that it's ugly. Terrible sewing experience. Worst sleeve in Star Trek *bangs gavel*.

[lavenderspence]

Sweater Thief | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, domestic fluff, mention of scars, inaccurate use of law jargon

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: You’ve always loved wearing Aaron’s quarter zip, especially when he is away on a case. But he also loves coming home and seeing you in it.

A/N: Welp, this is my first Hotch fic! Honestly, I love this so much, and the inspo is simply my love and appreciation for Hotch in a quarter zip sweater, simply delicious. Enjoy this little baby, I have more Hotch fics in the works. And also, storyboards or gifs, what's better?

masterlist

The house felt unusually cold for mid-September. The sun had long ago gone down the horizon, taking the little warmth it had provided with itself. Your home was quiet - Jack was spending the 3 day weekend with Jessica, and Aaron had been on a case in Massachusetts for the past 4 days. 

You were feeling the loneliness slowly start to take over. Although Jack had been gone for no more than 4 hours, you had gotten used to it being the two of you whenever Aaron was away. He’d become your little partner in crime in the year and a half you've been dating his dad. He was an unbelievably charming and calm kid - you guessed the perfect mixture of both his parents. At least you thought as much, from what Aaron, Jessica, and Jack had shared about Haley. 

He loved cartoons, and he loved building things - legos and 3D models. He also loved puzzles, especially when you helped him assemble them. 

But you also shared one very important thing - you both loved and missed his dad whenever he was traveling for work. That’s why having each other was so special, and spending time together was always a blast - you baked together, you played, and you went on walks. You were there for each other whenever Aaron had to work.

To be fair, neither you nor Jack blame Aaron or his job. You knew how important it was to him and how important his work was to the families that faced tragedy. He was an important part of the BAU, and he needed to do what he was doing - he was made to help people. 

But not having him here and not having Jack to love on, and take care of, the house felt far too empty and quiet. It was bringing forth a sadness that often came with the feeling of missing him, and in this case, missing them both.

With a defeated sigh, knowing you had nothing to do this evening, and with the cold chilling you almost to the bone, you started for the stairs and walked into the master bedroom. You made it into the closet and went searching around deep in Aaron’s winter clothes until you found what you were looking for and pulled it free. 

The quarter zip was dark brown and soft against your palms, and it faintly smelled like him. It was one of your favorite pieces of clothing he owned and your favorite to wear when he wasn’t home. 

You pulled it on, almost melting into the fabric. It was a little big on you, reaching down past your hipbones, and around your fingers. That was fine though, it was just another reason to love his clothes. You felt like you were wrapped around him, calmed by the feeling and the scent of him around you. It made you feel just a tad less lonely, especially today. 

You went around the house, doing small things here and there, trying to pass the time. After an hour though, you felt like you needed your mind occupied, just for a little while longer. Like a part deep inside of you was expecting Aaron home tonight.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d stayed up to wait for him to get home, but he usually called if he was returning in the late hours of the evening. A call hadn’t come though, neither had a text, and still you felt it. 

You found yourself in the study, pulling a book from the shelf before you relaxed on the little couch there and cracked it open. No more than 40 minutes had gone by, escaping into the world the pages painted for you, when you heard the front door. The familiar clank of Aaron’s keys being put on the little table by the door followed. 

You dog-eared the book, too excited to search for anything else to mark your progress, and then you left the room, making your way towards the front to welcome him home.

He’d just taken his shoes off, pulling his tie free, when you spotted him by the door. He heard you walk it, smiling your way gently, if a little tiredly.

“Hi, honey.” He greeted you with a whisper, just as you stepped in front of him. Your arms automatically wrapped around his middle, and your face found its’ favorite place - at the crook of his neck. You sagged against each other, a sigh escaping him, just your touch enough to make him relax.

“Hey, I missed you.” You whispered back, as he pulled you even closer to himself, one arm low on your back, as the other cradled your head with a gentle touch.

“I missed you, too.” He pulled back, only to lean in for a sweet kiss. His lips pressed against yours tenderly, a magnetic current passing through you at the touch. As you relaxed into the kiss, letting him bleed his love though, the longing within you quieted. You took everything he gave, and still wished for more, starving for him and his touch, after days when you couldn’t have him like this.  

You’d never get enough of the kisses he pulled you into the moment he walked home. The yarning for each other and the quiet relief of finally being in the arms of the person who loved and cherished you like no other. Kisses full of want and love. So similar in taste, but vastly different every time, as if each time was the first time he was coming back home to you. 

When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. You studied him, the dark circles under his eyes were now more evident than ever. His hair looked unkempt as if the frustration of the job had really gotten to him this time. The more he looked at you, the more his eyes softened, and the worry left his body gradually. 

“Why are you up this late?” His thumb ran across your cheekbone.

“Had a feeling you might be coming home tonight.” He pulled you to him, kissing the side of your head as you slowly started pulling him towards the bedroom. He left his go bag next to the door, leaving the worry of unpacking for tomorrow. 

You finished pulling his tie free, before removing it. His suit jacket came off next, and you draped it over the back of the vanity chair. 

His hands found a place on your hips, and every few seconds he’d give you a light squeeze as you worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

“Isn’t this the sweater I was looking for before I went to Boston?” He tugged on it gently, a furrow in his brows, but the smile on his face betrayed him, he was amused because he already knew the answer.

“Oh, this one? I must have been thinking about another one, sorry honey.” You were barely holding in your smile. This was in fact the quarter zip he had been looking for 4 days ago, wanting to pack it in case of bad weather, but you’d stashed it deep into the closet after the last time he’d worn it. 

He chuckled, sounding tired, as you pulled off his shirt, laying a few kisses on his chest and abdomen as you chased the phantom pain of the scars left standing from his past. Each one got attention, just like every time you undressed him. His breathing always picked up, at first in surprise, and quickly after that out of love. 

You knew his feelings about the scars left from a dark moment in his life, having talked about it at length, and you always told him the same thing. Regardless of his past, his demons, fears, and even those scars, the man that he was now, was the man you loved. The man you went home to, kissed every morning and each night, whose smile you saw in your sleep. Nothing was going to change that. 

You went in search of a sleep shirt for him as he finished getting undressed. 

“I knew you were a heart thief, sweetheart, I mean, I have the evidence to prove it, but a sweater thief, I didn’t take you for.” He pulled you into another kiss, voice teasing, as was the smile on his face. He always claimed you stole his heart, but then again, he’d stolen yours just the same. 

“Your honor, the prosecution has no evidence to support such a claim, it’s all a ploy to smear my good name,” You rambled, getting a rich laugh out of him, “In all fairness, it smells like you, reminds me of you in the sweetest and hottest way possible. It’s comforting, whenever you’re away on the job.” You confessed. 

He searched your eyes before he pulled you in to kiss your forehead, “Next time we’re sent on a case, I’ll make sure to leave something for you to wear while I’m away.” He promised, before he undressed you too, pulling one of his shirts over your head, and taking you to bed, where he cuddled you until morning. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[msunitedstatesjames]

Rating Veilguard companions based on their living spaces:

I'm coming up on the last handful of missions in Veilguard, and I noticed that I hadn't really spent all that much time looking around the rooms of the companions. I pretty much burst in and out, only staying long enough to hear whatever they have to say. So I decided to do a more in depth look. (There will be some moderate spoilers ahead if you haven't worked your way through most of Emmrich's companion quests.)

7. Lucanis

Okay, we've all heard the reasoning behind Lucanis's room of choice, but this "room" is still sad. As awesome as access to the kitchens is, this is just a straight up trauma room. That's without even mentioning the perilous number of candles near the bed of such a haunted (literally) man. But, at least he has somewhere to sleep, unlike some others, and he has plenty of supplies of citrus fruit, so scurvy won't be an issue.

6. Emmrich

I hate to rank this one so low. Not only is Emmrich my romance of choice, but I'm a huge book lover in real life, and I love this aesthetic. But this man doesn't have anywhere to sleep! He's in his 50s and has nowhere to sleep! Much has been said about where he might be sleeping every night. Does he sleep on the corpse slab? Does he sleep in the big red chair? Does he curl up in front of the fire like a hound? If he was 19 maybe those options would be feasible. But I'm in my early thirties in real life, and the idea of spending a night on a hard floor/slab is already unbearable to imagine, and sitting upright all night is only done if I'm so ill I can't do otherwise. No bed is just unforgiveable. Also, he's stuck with the skull and spirit of his former friend/rival seemingly listening in on everything and critiquing him constantly. Imagine just minding your own business and having a skull call you "moldering" while implying you're too old to be with your partner of choice. On the other hand, I envy the shelf space, the spiral staircase, and the gorgeous balcony view.

5. Taash

Maybe Taash likes having a gloomy room, I don't know. But sometimes this room looks like a straight up dungeon. Also, though there is some good functionality for training and such, the room lacks daily functionality due to the sheer amount of stuff everywhere. I get that Taash is a Lord of Fortune and treasure hunting is like their whole thing, but like, does Taash really need multiple huge stacks of silver bars and random sheaths of fabric here in their temporary Fade bedroom? What's the point of having so many tables if none of them have any more room to set things on when you actually need to? Some of these rugs are fantastic though. And Taash is one of only two companions with a real bed, so that counts for a lot.

4. Bellara

This is more workshop than bedroom, which I guess suits Bellara well enough. But there's a couple of issues here. First, there's some pretty spiky tools a little close to her cot. God forbid she has a nightmare and jerks upright out of a deep sleep, she'd get slightly impaled. Also, imagine trying to sleep with the smug face of the Archive looking out at you all the time. And don't forget the room is just full to bursting with mirrors. That seems like a confusing, hazardous, headache inducing horror. There is some cool elven decor though.

3. Neve

Neve has a pretty tiny space compared to some of the others, but I guess it's fitting for a noir style detective. She does have a bed, though it's only a less than stellar cot. She also has a bunch of wisps stealing her stuff all the time. But she has a beautiful view, more privacy than some of the others, and a nice desk, which is essential to a detective. And in the end this room is kind of gorgeous.

2. Harding

This whole place is fabulous. The plants are amazing. The magic butterflies are enchanting. The giant ceiling flower is beautiful. Harding doesn't have a real bed, but she has a canopy and a bedroll, which she's probably pretty comfortable in by now after 10+ years of being a scout. I also like that this room grows and transforms over the course of the story. Personally, I think this is the most aesthetically pleasing of the rooms, and I imagine there's some crickets in there to give you that peaceful summer evening soundtrack.

1.Davrin

Davrin's biggest advantage is the simple fact that he has a private sleeping area with a real bed. No one else has both of those things. On top of that, it's a functional space for he and Assan. It's open and has a nice perch for easy Assan access. It has shelf space for his carvings. He has lots of cool knick knacks. He has lots of natural light and a great view. But after looking more closely at his space I almost dropped him down a spot for one reason. NUGS. Did I miss a dialogue line about his love for nugs? Because there's A LOT of nug memorabilia in this place. There's a taxidermy nug with a face only Leliana could love. There's little nug carvings. There's bigger nug carvings. There's drawings of nug anatomy. I don't know if I'm more freaked out by the idea that Davrin brought them or the idea that Solas left them. Still, he does have a cozy fireplace/chair combo, as long as you don't mind being watched by the empty stares of a thousand lifeless nugs.

[holidayinhell]

Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag? 

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position? 

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games. 

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

------------------------

this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))

[waitineedaname]

shoes in FMA rated on how comfortable they'd be to fight in

Edward Elric

considering Ed's uhhh very distinct taste in aesthetics, these could be a lot worse. they look relatively comfortable and don't seem like they'd be difficult to move around in. they are platforms though, which I imagine makes things more difficult. I'll be generous and give these a 7/10

Most of the Amestrian military

pretty much everyone in uniform wears the same shoes, so I'm lumping them all together. these are Roy's, if that matters. they look fine. I imagine that because it is part of a military uniform, it's designed to be moved around in and worn for hours on end, so ideally they're relatively comfortable. it doesn't look like there's much traction, but they're usually fighting on flat surfaces so whatever. 8/10

Fu and Lan Fan

these shoes fucking rule. the picture I've included is Lan Fan's, but they wear p much the same shoes. I fucking love these things. they have spikes. Edward Elric fucking wishes. considering this seems to be part of the bodyguard uniform, I'd imagine they're as easy to run around in as the military shoes, if not better since they're expected to be doing martial arts in them. but most importantly, they have spikes. 10/10, no notes.

Ling and Mei

on the topic of doing martial arts, both Ling and Mei wear these.... I'm not sure what they are. flats? slippers? it's unclear. (EDIT: they are apparently Kung Fu shoes!) they seem relatively easy to move around in I guess since they're not very cumbersome and both Ling and Mei rely on being very nimble. they look like they have absolutely no support in the soles though, which is gonna get painful after a certain point. also depending on what fabric they're made of, they could definitely start chafing. I've worn flats. I know that hell. 7/10 for the potential blisters, but at least they're designed specifically for martial arts

Greedling and Bradley

it's hard to get a good shot in this scene because neither of them stop moving, but I swear to god, they're fighting in dress shoes. I cannot stand them. this CANNOT be comfortable. I know Greed prioritizes aesthetics over function so this was probably a compromise between his and Ling's tastes but ohhh my god. he was probably wasting so much of the philosopher's stone just passively healing the million blisters on his feet from running around in these things. there's a chance Bradley is wearing the military uniform shoes but I think he was in more formal dress when he got blown the fuck up, so I don't think so. no wonder he complains about being sore, quit running around in dress shoes you fucking moron. 4/10.

Greed

THESE FUCKING THIIIIIIIINGS. WHY ARE THEY POINTY AT THE END. WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE SOMEONE HIT HIS FOOT WITH A MALLET AND FLATTENED THEM. he's so dumb. I love him. looking at these things tells me he would probably wear goth cowboy boots if he could, and tbh that would probably look better. 3/10 for Greed's overall silly as hell fashion sense

Lust

okay. the heels make sense considering her whole vibe. however. these are part of her fucking BODY. when she gets incinerated, they grow back. can she even take them off???? I'm scared to ask. I guess if theyre part of her body, she doesn't have to worry about adjusting to balancing in them like you would normally with heels, but oh my god. she can never wear normal shoes. I would also be murderous if I had to wear heels all the time. 4/10.

Father and Izumi

guys. these are sandals. it has been four hundred years and Father is still wearing the same outfit he was wearing in the damn desert. find a new outfit man. Izumi is apparently wearing bathroom slippers (hence the WC) so idk why she's even wearing those out of the house. Father gets 0/10 and Izumi gets 1/10 because she still manages to kick everyone's asses while wearing these, so respect

Envy

PUT YOUR FUCKING TOES AWAY. -10000000/10

[marzipanandminutiae]

Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)

no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it

Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory

...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me

2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal

What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.

3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive

There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.

4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive

I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.

5. Ghost Shoulder Bag

If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.

6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red

This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.

7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black

It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.

8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black

You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.

9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.

You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.

10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black

I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.

11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black

This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.

12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold

This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.

The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10

13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil

Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.

Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.

[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]

14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver

THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.

Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.

Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.

5/10 overall.

[skzhocomments]

The Rising Empress (Bang Chan) - Chapter 4 - The Bearer of Bad News

General Masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 (coming soon)

Taglist: @vxllxnsworld

---

Chapter 4 - The Bearer of Bad News

Chapter word count: 1.8k words

“This humble maid greets His Majesty, Sun of the Empire.” Mari bows with utmost respect to Chris, who quickly asks her to raise her head.

“What is the Empress up to these days?” He asks her, paying attention to the slight disgust plastered across her face. Truth is, he expected Aristia to warm up to someone, at least to her personal maid, but judging by the strong response of the maid’s body language, it’s clear that she didn’t.

“… Not much. She takes a walk every midday through the gardens, but other than that, she stays locked in her room. She writes, eats-”

“Writes?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. She’s taken a liking to writing as of late.”

“What does she write exactly? Letters?” Chris asks, his heart thumping in his chest. Is she perhaps informing the King of the South about any of the Empire’s affairs?

“No. Stories. What they contain, however, is not something I am aware of.”

“I see. Could you bring me some of her writings?” He furrows his brows in confusion. He still believes she is a spy for her family, and the fact that she hasn’t yet sent any reports back to the Kingdom is surprising to say the least.

“I am afraid not. She keeps them locked in her drawers and carries the key at all times around her neck.”

“I see. Thank you, Mari.”

The girl bows and turns to leave, before Chris remembers something.

“Ah, one more thing. I noticed something unpleasant looking at the Empress the other day. Her garments are dirty. Is there an issue I should know about?” He raises an accusatory eyebrow and watches the maid’s mannerisms carefully.

“… No, Your Majesty. I will make sure Her Highness’s attire will be more appropriate from now on.”

“Yeah. Do that.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

~

The next morning, Aristia wakes up to her maid frantically buzzing around the room, carrying multiple dresses on her arms.

“What’s with all this fuss?” She groans and sits up on the bed, trying to make sense of what is happening.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. I am to prepare you for breakfast, as His Highness has requested your presence.”

“Mhm.” She nods, before the words fully register in her head. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Apologies, but I don’t have any additional information. His Majesty’s personal guard is waiting for you.”

Still confused and groggy with sleep, Aristia stands up and makes her way to the dresses. With a yawn, she analyses all of them, and choses a pastel yellow dress with flowers made of lace scattered all over, with puffy sleeves. The dress is comfortable and breezy, much like the ones she’s worn until now. Only, this dress is not dirty, nor shabby, nor old.

It fits her right, besides around the hips, where excess fabric covers up her silhouette. The dress would’ve been perfect when she first arrived in the Empire and had her measurements taken, but now, it’s loose fitting, a reminder of the fact that she’s become malnourished. She decides to wear a tight corset to make it look a bit more her size, and she successfully hides how much weight she’s lost.

As soon as she’s done dressing herself, she steps out on the hallways and sees a familiar face. She smiles, genuinely this time.

“Hello, Changbin.”

“Your Highness.” He bows and returns her smile. “You remembered my name.”

“Of course I did. What have you been up to these days? I haven’t seen you around.” She asks as they start walking towards the gardens, where the Emperor apparently wants to have breakfast with her.

“I’ve just returned from a trip abroad to the Western Kingdom.”

“Oh, was it fun?” She asks, and Changbin looks puzzled. He’s never been asked if a diplomatic trip was fun, so he doesn’t quite know what to reply.

“I guess so? It went alright. I had to guard Prince Felix as he’s been sent to represent the Empire in some negotiations.”

“What for?” Aristia questions, glad that for the first time, someone is not sparing any details.

“As you might know, sugar canes only grow in the west. Oh, in case Your Highness is not aware, sugar canes are used for-”

“Producing raw and refined sugar and molasses. Yes, I know.” She cuts him off with a kind smile and he seems excited.

“Exactly! I had no idea sugar came from that tall grass!” He exclaims, making her laugh.

“Yes, I read in a book about the process of extracting juice by crushing the sugar cane. Oh, do you know that rum is actually made from that juice or from molasses?”

“Rum?”

“The drink.”

“What is that? Does it taste any good?”

“Don’t you have it here?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“No, I don’t believe we do.”

“It’s an alcoholic beverage… It apparently tastes quite sweet, as it’s made from fermented molasses. I actually don’t know what it tastes like either. Since the Kingdom doesn’t produce any sugar canes, I could only read about it.”

“I see. Your Highness seems quite intelligent.” He compliments.

“Did I seem dull until now?” Aristia asks in a serious tone, and Changbin starts apologising instantly.

“No! Of course not! God, what have I said? Of course, you always seemed intelligent. You’re my Empress and-” He rambles and Aristia bursts out laughing.

Having a genuine conversation with someone who doesn’t seem to view her as an enemy is refreshing.

“Oh.” Changbin blushes.

“I thought you would’ve been served some rum in the west.”

“Maybe Prince Felix… I haven’t been given any.” He pouts slightly, and Aristia laughs again.

“Speaking of, how is he doing? Did he find the trip difficult? Is he healthy?”

“Yes, the Prince is as cheerful as always. He was, however, quite disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to you after your wedding. Now that he’s back, Your Highness will probably not be able to get rid of him.”

“Oh, my.” Aristia smiles as they eventually reach a small greenhouse in the middle of the garden.

Changbin keeps guiding her to the table, and as they approach, Aristia notices Chris and Felix talking lively about something. The closer they get, the more she realises Felix is telling his brother details about the trip.

“You’re here.” Chan’s lips turn into a thin line, but the girl chooses to ignore his hostility and focus on Felix’ smiling face instead.

She salutes the two with a bow then sits down with Changbin’s help.

“Sister, you look so beautiful. I love how your dress looks.” Felix compliments, his smile radiating as much as the sun’s rays.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, how was your trip?”

“I was just telling Chris about it. The people of the west are quite nice! I had an amazing time, and we managed to score the deal with the-” Felix speaks but gets interrupted by Chris clearing his throat. He shuts up instantly and mutters a small “Sorry.”

Apparently, Aristia wasn’t supposed to know of this information either.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I was telling Chris about this gift they gave me. You all should try it. Changbin, I mean you as well. I know you didn’t get to taste any while we were there.” Felix resumes his happy stance and pulls out a small bottle out of his coat, pouring a brown liquid into four small glasses.

Rum.

Changbin grabs his glass with interest and tastes the liquid. As soon as it touches his tongue, he tastes sugar and alcohol, and he turns his head to Aristia.

“Is this the liquid you’ve been telling me about? What was it called… rum?”

“Have you had this before?” Felix asks, eyes sparkling with interest.

“No, I just… read about it in a book.” She smiles.

“Her Highness is so humble. She knows all about the way this drink is made.” Changbin starts boasting and telling the table all about their conversation, and with each word, Chris is looking more and more intensely at Aristia.

“Perhaps this knowledge will come in handy once we get the sugar cane seeds.” The Emperor says after a little while, shocking her.

He finally thinks she’s going to be useful at something, and although Aristia’s eyes grow wide for a short moment, she has some conflicting feelings about this matter.

“Anyways, we should get to eating. There are some matters I have to attend to after breakfast.” Chris continues.

After he says that, he looks towards the attendants on the side of the room who rush to bring all sorts of fresh salads, boiled and fried eggs, cheeses, salami and hams, as well as crackers and fresh fruit. For the first time in months, Aristia can eat a fresh breakfast, so she doesn’t hold herself back.

~

“This was so good!” Felix smiles gleefully, and both Chan and Aristia nod their heads in approval. He reminds her of a little kid, happy of everything, and unintentionally makes her smile.

“Felix, sorry about this, but would you please give us some time to talk privately?” Chris asks his brother, and he nods excitedly, thinking they finally started to get along.

He’s happy that his plan seemed to work. After all, he is the one who insisted that Aristia joins the two for breakfast, lunch and dinner from now on, after hearing that the Emperor never once shared a meal with his wife since the wedding.

He excuses himself, leaving Chris and Aristia alone.

“A letter from the Kingdom of the South arrived this morning.” The Emperor starts, and she instantly looks at him with dread. “It seems your father wants to come visit. He misses his precious daughter.”

“… When?” She asks, her body growing cold. She doesn’t want to see her father. She finally got away, she had a few months of peace. He hates trips. So… why?

Why is he coming here?

“In about one week from now. Seems he simply… informed us of his arrival, and what can we do but accommodate him?” Chan asks with a fake smile, irritated.

He dislikes the disrespect of someone announcing him they’re visiting instead of asking for permission, but he still has to play it nice while his troops undergo more training. The Kingdom of the South is known for their strong army, after all, and war over the emerald mine is sure to break out soon enough. He needs to buy more time.

“… Why did the letter get here so late?” Her hands start trembling slightly, so she moves them under the table. She’s forgotten what it felt like to be afraid, to walk on eggshells.

“Who knows? He must’ve sent it a bit before he decided to leave. I have a few meetings to attend, so I’m going to leave you to it. Oh, something else before I go. You are expected to join us for lunch and dinner as well, as per my dear brother’s request.”

Aristia nods absent-mindedly out of habit, but she barely hears his words.

Her father is coming.

Her head falls down, hair covering her face, as she shivers in place. One of her hands raises to her lips and she begins nervously biting her fingernails.

He can’t come here.

He can’t.

This place is safe…

This place is safe…

Nothing will happen.

Yeah.

He wouldn’t dare hurt me here.

I am the Empress.

~

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 (coming soon)

[pants-magic-pants]

Cheers, loveys!

Here is post 1 of 3 about Pattern Construction. I’ll make a diagram post like this and then also take photos of my actual coat and with me in it. 

I don’t remember how I started off doing the pattern, but I will guess that I took a tailcoat that I already possess and used it as a base, which in general seems to be a helpful way to start making clothes that fit if you’re not a master pattern maker (which I’m not, and I made plenty of mistakes which we’ll get into.)

There are two people I want to thank, and the first is Aria Couture [X] and their quality photos and observations, vocabulary and groundwork. They are the shoulders I stand on. Their photos were how I made all of the notes discussed in these diagrams, and how I discerned what kind of pattern needed to be made. 

So the main changes that needed to happen to my base pattern was 1.) jacking up the shoulders to high heavens, 2.) elongating the side pieces (which I’ve come to call panels so go with me), 3.) adding pleats in that squared off spot in the back between them, 4.) adding a custom collar and cuffs, 5.) designing my own lining. 

THE PLEATS were a nightmare. There was a lot of math involved, and math that was not necessary, but the most important thing was creating a shape that would fold together into a straight line on top, look cascading on the sides, and marry the rest of the coat in a reasonable place. After a lot of trial and error, I ended up with this rounded wedge that spreads out on the inside of the coat, but also folds backwards onto itself (like half of a box pleat), to reattach to the back side panels. This is what gives the coat its look of all this shiny velvet blossoming from beneath the back buttons and gushing out the sides. 

As to why the pleat piece is rounded, all of the pleat lines were diagonal, so that the coat would flare out. Cutting this piece as a completely straight line on top meant it ran out of fabric in the top corners, and more of it needed to be pulled in, more and more sideways. Adding a sloped height to its corners helped it do what it was supposed to and become a mostly straight line when folded together.  

THE PANELS (second image), there are just a few notes about those which I think are important. As I am female cosplaying a male and wish to keep the masculine shape of the garment, some tricks needed to be pulled to hide my waist and hips, so this is what I came up with. 

PROPORTIONS MATH. It’s a thing I started doing a couple cosplays ago, to get accurate shapes and lengths of garments, to give me the same silhouette as characters. It’s worked out really well for me. It’s been a real life application of algebra that I wasn’t expecting, as a former student who hated math. Now, I love math! Armed with a ruler and a protractor, I have taken down a lot of notes about such silly things as: what degrees the angles of the lapels are, and how wide are the shoulders compared to the head? (In Jareth’s coat’s case, the ratio of head:shoulders is 1:4.) With that knowledge, I took a photo of myself in the bathroom, measured my own head and shoulders in pixels, wearing a mock-up, and corrected shoulder span measurements to fit this ratio. It was a whooole thing, but I think it was worth it.

And I used proportions math for everything. How much of the arm do the cuffs take up? Where along the legs did the dramatic slope of Jareth’s “fishtail” start? Those things aren’t listed here, but hopefully this post gives you enough tools to figure it out on your own for your specific garment, or any garment you ever want to make.

THE COLLAR. Not much to say about it, but there’s how it looks.

SLEEVES. Dear God. I was stuck on sleeves for months because go ahead and look around online for detailed information about how to add basically football gear sized padding to your shoulders, and all of the intertwined modifications that needs. It isn’t out there. 

One thing I can at least say is that it helps to start off with a great base, and the other person I have to thank is a tailor on YT called Chris Sartorial [X]. This guy hasn’t been active for years, but when he was, he was no nonsense, such a professional who knew what he was doing that he couldn’t even take the time to properly light his videos. Such a king. His channel helped me with my dress shirt, and also with making the base sleeves for this coat, which were of the “2 piece” variety. This kind of sleeve is used for blazers and coats so that it appears to fall in a nice boxy shape off the arm, usually from a shoulder pad, and then slightly turn at the elbow. While he doesn’t go into shoulder pads, this still halfway set me up for success, and knowing the relationship between shoulder and sleeve.

However, there are a few things I learned about shoulder+sleeve modification as shown above, and hopefully it’s a good “bouncing off” observation.

THE CUFFS. Again, not much to say, but this is how my pattern came out, to create that nice tear-drop shaped gap, with that sort of blooming and expanding height that his cuffs have, like a vase. The lace trim will be in another post. One thing I should mention is that the lace trim is tall enough that the bottom of the cuff won’t end on your wrist if you want to be able to see your own hands. The cuff needs to be measured so that it will end 2-3 inches up from your wrist. 

THE LINING

Dear God, she’s still writing. I am a huge fan of lining even though I’m not good at it, and my actual lining didn’t turn out looking as smooth as my drawings, but this is what I came up with, which in theory should look good. haha Any deviations from the norm that you see are just stylistic choices. I wanted the area in the top back to look sort of dripping like the back lace piece.

Was this interesting? I sure hope so. Please ask me questions if I’ve glossed over something.

[duusheen]

oc deep dive with hope pollock! 😤 thank you for the tag @theosconfessions and @bloomingkyras <3

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Being alone, I guess. Hope has this romantic and idealized view of love because her parents have been together for so long that she grew up with it and she's like "wow, I want that too", so that's why she stayed with Danny all this time (because let's face it, everyone could see it except her)

Do they have any pet peeves? The lack of commitment. She simply detests people who are not capable of committing to their loved ones. In part, I guess it's because she is too compliant. She gives her all without expecting anything in return and sometimes people take advantage of her

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? Lots and lots of cat toys, her clothes on the floor and chairs (that's my messy girl) and probably a cat sleeping on top of the clothes.

What do they notice first in a person? She usually judges people by the way they treat others, especially girls 👀

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Meh, 4. She is the first daughter of a teen couple and the ultimate daddy's girl. Jay and Miracle practically wrapped her in bubble wrap for her entire life. Hope was protected by her parents much more than her sisters, and her tolerance for anything that hurts her is really low

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? I'd say she would fight? but seeing that she found Danny with his lover and ran straight to her parents' house… lol. She's definitely the kind of girl who would disappear without even leaving a note. "I don't like this bye" kinda girl.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? It depends on what is considered a "big family". She has three sisters, but her grandpa had 6 children, so you could say almost lol. That said, she is a family girl. If it were up to her, she would build a house on her parents' ranch and live there until she's old and gray.

What animal represents them best? A penguin? 😂🐧

What is a smell that they dislike? The smell of the disinfectant they use at the vet to clean the floors 🤢

Have they broken any bones? Never. I don't think she even scraped her knee as a child 🙄

How would a stranger likely describe them? I guess shy. But if the person in front of her shows up with an animal, Hope immediately becomes all chatty and excited. Nothing like a pet to break the ice (honestly me)

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? morning bird. Her routine starts every day at 6:00 a.m.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? She likes the deep taste of black coffee, and hates anything bitter.

Do they have any hobbies? Whenever she has a free moment, she likes to sit down and browse the Simflix catalog because her favorite thing is to sit and watch series.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? She would smile, pretend she's grateful for a total of five minutes and then hide in the bathroom to mentally prepare herself to be the center of attention until the party ends. After that, she'd probably relax and be okay.

Do they like to wear jewelry? She has her grandma Daphne's silver rings. She never goes anywhere without them; they're her lucky charm :')

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Her handwriting was pretty neat in school, but now it's just a mess.

What are two emotions they feel the most? Inadequate and tired, as if she's trying to catch up with everyone's expectations.

Do they have a favorite fabric? Leather 😳. Not for anything special, but because it's the fabric where cat hair sticks the least.

What kind of accent do they have? She grew up on a ranch in Chestnut Ridge, so I like to think she has the sexiest country accent 😌

i tag: @aurorangen @theosconfessions (gimme some blake info please i miss him 👀) @ktysh @cupidszone @akitasimblr @awkwardwhims @aliengirl but feel free to ignore 😁💖

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (7/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4k

Feyre has another reunion Under the Mountain. It does not go as well as the last.

Read on AO3 or you can find the seventh chapter below the readmore.

ch. 1 - the altar is my hips | ch 2. - an arrowhead leading us home | ch. 3 - by the way, i just may like some explanations | ch. 4 - can't not think of all the cost | ch. 5 - honey i rose up from the dead | ch. 6 - this mad, mad love makes you come running | ch. 7 - therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you

They left me alone for what I thought might have been two days. At least, that was my best guess based on how I was healing and how many more meals appeared in my cell. I slept as much as I could, hoping it helped the injuries fade.

During that time, the bond was mostly quiet. Despite the endless boredom, I didn't dare tug on it or bother Rhys. From the few glimpses I got out of his eyes, I could tell he was walking a thin line, trying to help without seeming suspiciously interested in me, and he was more on guard than ever. I wouldn't risk distracting him.

The nightmares didn't stop, either.

But when I was awake, his talons brushed against my mind occasionally. I skimmed them with my mental fingers, as if we were passing by each other in a tight hallway. It kept us both steady.

I had no idea what time it was when two female wraiths appeared in the shadows of the cell. Though we'd never met, I recognized Nuala and Cerridwen from the information Rhys had deposited in my head. I nearly blurted out their names at the sight of them, but I just let them wordlessly pull me through the closed door, as if we were a trio of ghosts.

I knew they wouldn't hurt me, but the sensation was strangely itchy, like a thousand spiders crawling over my skin. Rhys's shields were up so he didn't hear it, but I found myself calling him a prick in my head for not warning me about that.

They brought me to a bathing chamber in a long-forgotten corner Under the Mountain and stripped me down. I would have panicked if I hadn't caught sight of the paints and brushes sitting out near the tub and understood what was happening. Besides, even with my limited human senses, I knew I smelled, so I just let them shove me unceremoniously into the water. At least it was warm.

Once it was finished and I was dry, they held me down and painted me. It took effort not to give in to my instinct to struggle, and I wished they'd just say something. Perhaps they'd been ordered not to.

It was my first chance to survey my injuries somewhere with enough light to see decently. I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror, and I looked horrible. The swelling had gone down, but my split lip had begun to scab over and the healing bruises were mottling into sickly shades of purple and yellow.

It wasn't until they'd painted one of my legs that I realized I recognized that particular pattern of swirls—I'd seen it on Rhys's chest. For some reason, they were painting me to match Rhys, though I wasn't sure if anyone here but me and Amarantha had ever seen him shirtless and would know.

When it was done, they tossed a bundle of fabric at me that was so tattered that it took me a moment to recognize that it was a dress. It was stained and full of threadbare patches, but it was clean. I slipped it on and realized it covered most of the paint; some magic was keeping the dress and my own movements from smearing it. The cut was modest, the paint nothing more than an inner layer of protection, and the fabric hung off me loosely, not quite fitting right. Combined with the injuries, everything about my appearance was utterly pathetic.

But I recognized the costume for what it was.

Nuala and Cerridwen led me into a marble hall, one I remembered was closer to the middle of the passages Under the Mountain, a much higher-traffic area. Two of the dungeon guards were waiting there with a bucket and brush, and it was obvious enough that this was the beginning of my household chores.

As the wraiths melted into shadows, one of the guards threw the brush at me, clearly aimed for my head and intended to hurt. I caught it with one hand.

“If it’s not washed and shining by supper,” the other one said, its teeth clicking as it grinned, “we’re to tie you to the spit and give you a few good turns over the fire."

I doubted it was an empty threat, and with that, they left. I sighed, wondering exactly how much time I had. For a place with no sun or stars to mark the passage of time, the court Under the Mountain was awfully bereft of clocks.

I took one moment to breathe, willing myself not to panic at the potential short deadline. Then I sank to the floor and dipped the brush in the water.

It was filthy, and I quickly realized the task was impossible—all I did was turn the dirt to mud and push it around with the brush. I tried the door to the passage and found it locked, so asking for a clean bucket of water or finding it myself wouldn't be an option, either.

If Amarantha really wanted to torture me, I almost wished she'd just go ahead and do it, not set me up with a flimsy excuse about failed housework first. I tossed the brush to the ground in frustration, hard enough to crack the handle against the marble. Then I sat back down and considered my options.

Calling Rhys for help was the obvious choice, but I decided that would be a last resort. I didn't want to risk making it look like he'd come running for me the minute I was out of the cell.

From my mental maps of passageways Under the Mountain, I knew this was a central area, a hall that plenty of fae passed through daily. I suspected that this place was chosen for a reason, that I was supposed to be seen battered, wearing rags, and frantically scrubbing on my knees to send a message about a human's place in Amarantha's court. I decided to wait a while and see if anyone passed by.

When the door finally opened and I spotted long, auburn hair, I nearly cried with relief. Lucien.

"Feyre!" he said, breaking into a run at the sight of me. I jumped to my feet and let him pull me into a hug. For a moment, I forgot about everything—Andras, the curse, the lies—and just let myself be glad to see him again. When he finally pulled away, he looked me up and down, metal eye clicking as he took in my sorry state. "By the Cauldron, what happened to you?"

I had no idea how to answer that, so I didn't. There were more pressing issues anyway. "I need your help," I said, not even really needing to fake the urgency in my voice. "They'll roast me over the spit if I can't get this whole hall clean by supper. And all I have is dirty water."

He pointed at the bucket, and I watched the cloudy water turn clear. Another wave of relief washed over me, and I hugged him again. "It's barely noon, so you have plenty of time," he said, squeezing me tight again. After a moment, Lucien let go, taking in the sight of me. Even with the mask covering half his face, I could tell he was cringing. "Gods, what possessed you to think coming here was a good idea?"

Shit. I should have known someone was going to ask me where I'd been for six weeks, and I certainly couldn't tell him the truth. As much as I wanted Lucien on my side, he was still loyal to Tamlin.

And I definitely didn't trust Tamlin.

"I— Being gone made me realize a few things," I said. It was vague, but I needed time to wrack my brain for a suitable cover story.

"I knew something was growing between you and Tam but…" Lucien trailed off, shaking his head. I hoped that meant he believed that one night in the rose garden with Tamlin had awakened something strong enough in me to come Under the Mountain.

A horrible part of me pointed out that I'd done it for Rhys after knowing him for less time, but I pushed that thought aside and gripped the bond for support.

"I missed you while I was gone," I lied.

"The manor was serene without you running wild on the grounds," Lucien said with a smirk. I opened my mouth to reply, but his expression softened into something fond. "But I missed you too, Feyre."

I wanted to believe him. I needed as many friends as I could manage Under the Mountain, but perhaps my skin would always crawl at the thought of all the insults Lucien had flung at me for killing Andras when he'd known that I'd been set up to do it. And that was on top of the kidnapping he'd apparently been just fine with.

Maybe that didn't matter now that I was keeping secrets, too, though.

I put on my best brave face and said, "I'll be back and causing new kinds of chaos in Spring before long."

I could've sworn his mechanical eye pointed at my left hand, just for a moment. My chest tightened.

Lucien's face darkened. "Where did you go on Calanmai? Did Rhys take you?"

"He didn't," I said, just a little too quickly. Hopefully Lucien chalked it up to a healthy fear of the Lord of Nightmares. "I tried to get back across the Wall. I thought maybe since you were all busy with Fire Night, it would be easy to slip away."

"For six weeks?"

My heart was hammering so hard I worried he must have heard it. This was dangerous territory.

"I traveled along the Wall and hoped I could find a gap to squeeze through. I know Tamlin took care of them, but I missed my family."

I really, really didn't like the way Lucien was eyeing me, and I could've sworn his gaze landed on my left hand again as I tugged my sleeve down. Mor's glamour was strong, though. Lucien couldn't possibly see the tattoo.

Could he?

"Cauldron, you look terrible, but not like you were roughing it for six weeks before you came here," he said, sounding too much like he was putting pieces together.

But that was my opening, my last chance to run him off. I raised my chin and let my hands curl to fists at my sides. "I'm a huntress, in case you forgot," I snapped, letting myself feel a little indignation. I recalled Cassian's words about being a professional and reminded myself that Lucien had never afforded me that particular respect. "A damn good one. I know my way around the woods, and I didn't have any trouble at all looking after myself."

I took a step towards Lucien, and he raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. "It's not that I don't think you're capable. You've never seen what Rhysand can do to a person—"

I only half-listened to the rest as Lucien warned me that if Rhys had done something to me on Calanmai, I might not remember. I yanked on the bond, harder than I ever had before.

RHYS. Help me scare Lucien off. He suspects something. Now. Please.

He said nothing, but a gentle tug back told me he'd heard the message and understood. I schooled my features into what I hoped was an appropriately horrified reaction to all the twisted things Lucien was telling me Rhys could do with his abilities.

Though it wasn't long, it felt like forever before the torchlight dimmed. I did my best not to visibly relax at the sight of Rhys making an obvious entrance. The sound of his boots seemed to echo through the hall as he strode towards us, a cruel smirk plastered across his face. Lucien stepped in front of me.

Rhys came closer, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I heard my name. Don't tell me you two were gossiping about me," he drawled.

"I was making sure Feyre knows exactly how much of a bastard you are," Lucien said with more ferocity than I'd ever heard from him.

I dug my nails into my palms and fought the urge to knock him aside for getting between me and my mate and for daring to speak to Rhys like that. Instead, I attempted to peer around him, opening a crack in my shields for Rhys.

"Were you now?" Rhys said, his voice dangerously soft and low. A threat, the kind you hear from someone too powerful to need to raise their voice. He looked from Lucien to me, a slow, cold smile spreading across his face. It was strange to see when my hands already itched to draw Rhys's real smile, the one I'd committed to memory in the dungeon. "Then allow me to be kind enough to give her a demonstration."

What happened next was too fast for my human eyes to follow. Lucien moved first. With one hand, he swept me behind him, putting his body more completely between me and Rhys. All at once, Rhys was snapping his teeth and growling in Lucien's face.

The second Lucien touched me, Rhys's hands turned to talons. Something in his eyes went a bit feral, and for the first time, I understood why the fae were so wary of mated males.

Rhys, be careful, I said down the bond, and my voice in his head seemed to bring him back to himself. The rage cooled into a lethal calm as Rhys scraped a talon along Lucien's face, drawing blood as the pointed tip approached Lucien's remaining eye.

"I've made it perfectly clear that no one here touches her but me. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll make sure you don't see anything again," Rhys said.

The talons disappeared as Rhys stepped back, stuffing his hands into his pockets again as if nothing had happened. I wasn't sure if Lucien was breathing.

I couldn't tell what Lucien was thinking, but Rhys was walking a fine line between possessive and protective. Right now, it was too close to the latter for my comfort—I couldn't seem important to him. Down the bond, I said, Be as awful to me as you need to get your point across. I can handle it.

Tendrils of darkness surged towards me, then seemed to just…stop. They didn't touch me. For a heartbeat, shock flashed across Rhys's face and lanced across the bond. He must not have understood what happened, either.

I needed to act before Lucien noticed. To draw his attention towards me, I cried out and slammed my knees down onto the marble, as if Rhys had broken into my mind and forced me down. The hard landing hurt enough to make my eyes water, but at least it made the performance more believable.

Thank the Mother, Rhys followed my lead. The smirk was firmly back in place as he said, "Human minds are so easy to shatter, it's almost not worth the effort."

"Let her go," Lucien said. His hand twitched at his side, as if reaching for a sword that wasn't there.

Rhys chuckled to himself. "Always sticking up for the rabble, aren't you? First your commoner lover, and now the help."

The door opened again, and a few faeries I didn't recognize filtered in. They seemed to be headed somewhere but stopped to watch the three of us. I couldn't make out what they said to each other, but I caught a tone of gleeful, delighted interest.

Good. If Rhys and I were going to put on a show, we might as well do it with a bigger audience.

"Stop. Please stop," I said, letting out a whimper—or at least, what I hope sounded like one.

"Listen to how beautifully she begs without me even having to ask. What a waste it would have been for Tamlin to be the one to deflower her."

I said nothing, just looked up at Rhys with sad, pleading eyes. Lucien growled. If it weren't so frustrating, I'd be touched he was so willing to go toe-to-toe with Rhys for me.

"Leave her alone, Rhys," Lucien said.

I almost groaned in frustration. My mate was the only person under this gods-damned mountain that I didn't want to leave me alone. If I weren't so worried, I might have laughed.

And perhaps if Lucien hadn't said that, Rhys could have chased him and the rest of the faeries off. Now it would only look suspicious if Rhys didn't twist the knife a bit more.

He must have realized the same thing; his voice floated into my head. I cannot apologize enough for what I'm about to do.

"Not when household chores are part of her bargain, and I have shoes that need shining," Rhys said. I reached tentatively for the brush, not sure where he was going with this. There was no soft cloth or shoe polish. His grin just went wider and colder. "Not with that, you'll leave scuff marks. Use your tongue."

Bastard. Brilliant, horrifically clever bastard.

I lowered myself down to the floor, making sure to tuck my left arm under me to block Lucien's view. My cheeks burned, and I hardly listened to whatever amused things the faeries behind Rhys were saying and Lucien's muttering about how unnecessary all of this was. I licked the top of Rhys's boot and made a face at the taste of dirt and leather.

His mind wrapped around mine, the closest thing to an embrace we could manage. He sent a pulse of remorse down the bond. I gripped a mental talon and pulled it closer.

I wanted to spare you this.

It's not your fault.

I licked the other boot, then sat back on my heels. The hall had gone quiet. I twisted my face into a hateful expression and tipped my head back to look at Rhys. "Is that enough for you?" I spat.

I'd let them think he hated me, but there was a long way to go before I'd let them think I was broken.

"More than sufficient," Rhys purred. "Good girl."

I nearly called him names, but I didn't want to give him a reason to escalate this further in response to disrespect. Instead, I just glared.

Rhys turned away from me, all bored dismissal. "The queen gave her a task to do. Run along and don't interrupt her again," he said, a subtle reminder that only he had enough of Amarantha's favor to do this.

The hall cleared out, and Rhys didn't look at me again.

His mind retreated from mine, and his shields went up. I went back to scrubbing the floor, waiting for a tug on the bond.

No one else came through the hall until I finished cleaning, and I wasn't sure if that was Rhys's doing or not. Left alone, I kept thinking back to the sight of his darkness freezing up and the naked shock on his face, trying to understand it.

Eventually the guards returned to find me looking satisfied in the spotless marble hall. It was a struggle not to look too triumphant as they grumbled about taking me back to the cell instead of wherever Amarantha preferred to torture her prisoners.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been laying on the straw pallet, staring up at the vent on the ceiling, when Rhys appeared, looking completely exhausted. I sat up and motioned for him to sit next to me. He didn't move.

Before I could get a word out, he said, "Why does Lucien scare you? Did he hurt you?"

"No," I said, and Rhys relaxed enough to sit down next to me, "but I don't trust him. Not after what he and Tamlin put me through."

We were quiet for a moment as Rhys seemed to consider that, and I wondered what he would have done if I'd said yes. It wouldn't be difficult to kill Under the Mountain and escape consequences, but I wasn't sure where Rhys stood on revenge.

Eventually, he said softly, "I'm sorry for what I did to you earlier."

"I would have lost all respect for you if you didn't do it."

He studied my face as if he'd find answers written there. "I don't see why you would."

It seemed obvious enough to me, but there was still so much we didn't understand about each other. I considered what to say next, not sure if this was the time or place for that discussion. Rhys might not have much time with me.

"If you get squeamish, you hesitate. If you hesitate, you miss. If you miss, you starve and die," I said, recalling the words of another hunter who'd given me advice years ago. I'd recited them to myself countless times I'd been up a tree and dreading watching the light leave another doe's eyes. "Maybe there could have been a better way, but you did the necessary, unpleasant thing."

There were no words for how much it meant that he'd come through for me. I knew his family, knew how they all would do anything for each other without a second thought. But Rhys hadn't seen me beg Nesta just to chop wood.

"That's an overly charitable interpretation of events."

I disagreed, but there was no point in arguing about it. "What happened with your magic?"

"I draw from the Night Court's power when I use my abilities. When I tried to use it to force you down, it…refused."

I'd never heard of magic just refusing the person wielding it, but I certainly wasn't an expert. He sounded just as bewildered–we'd never needed Amren and her knowledge more. "Refused?"

"It's never happened before, but it said, 'I will not hurt her.' It's only ever spoken to me once, when I became High Lord." The chill I felt had nothing to do with the cold dungeon air. A centuries-long silence broken just to welcome me home, and now this. "I'm not sure I understand it, but if I'm not mistaken, the Night Court itself is defensive of you, Feyre."

Another entry to the growing list of things I wanted to understand but doubted I'd figure out Under the Mountain. Despite the glamour, I moved my left hand out of sight.

Then it occurred to me that there was no reason we had to have this conversation face-to-face. I wondered if Rhys had come down here because he felt the same pull from the mating bond, or if he really did just want to be near me. Maybe there was another reason. Maybe it didn't matter.

We were sitting with a careful few inches of distance between us, so I said, "Can I touch you?"

"You don't have to ask," he said, as if it were a stupid question.

But I did and we both knew why and there was no point in saying that. I curled up against his side, his warmth drawing me in. As he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer, the mating bond seemed to uncoil in my chest. I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I could almost convince myself that our too-many problems were far away.

I'd just started to relax when Rhys added, "I'm not looking forward to betraying Lucien."

I sat up. "You're betraying Lucien?"

"Those other faeries saw that the water in your bucket was clear when they walked in, and the three of us were the only ones there. It's gotten back to Amarantha. If I tried to cover for him, I'd have to take responsibility for helping you."

I felt sick. Rhys was right—someone would have to answer for helping me, and he couldn't step into the line of fire without risking everything. Not that I would ever expect him to do that for someone who clearly hated him and I wasn't even sure I considered a friend.

But still, Lucien had helped me because I'd asked, and now he was going to suffer for it. I couldn't silence the voice in the back of my head saying this was my fault my fault my fault.

I buried my face in Rhys's shoulder, not caring if I pressed on my still-healing bruises. This was the news he'd come to deliver in person, I realized. "I hate it here," I whispered.

"So do I."

We sat in silence for a long time, guilt surrounding us like a shared blanket draped around both our shoulders.

[mvrtaiswriting]

Reiner Braun - Wonderland (part 2)

Hullo! Part 2 of Wonderland is finally here! I know I previously said it would only have two parts, but it is highly likely I'll need at least one more part before calling it quits! hope you enjoy this <;3 (part 1 here) (part 3 here)

Follows AOT timeline, so please be mindful of any spoilers ahead. Specifically, this first part contains spoilers from season 4 (ish). The segments and different timezones of the story are divided by quotes from different Taylor Swift songs, which were vital for the formation of this idea. More specifically, the song that served as the backbone for this part of the story was Wildest dreams, from the 1989 album (I wish there was a Taylor's version for it, but we'll have to wait I guess.) This part also used Illicit affairs, from the Folklore album and Getaway Car, from the reputation album.

gn! reader.

usual AOT violence.

1.3 K words.

-> tag list for my dear readers who were waiting for an update! lmk if you want to be added &lt;3 @maliakealoha, @turituri09.

I thought "Heaven can't help me now".

A familiar scent tingled your senses, you could recognise the smell of his cologne even in such a busy street, with Sasha shoving ice cream up to your face and local food sellers frying their specialties in the main road. You took a quick glare over the crowd, scanning the millions of faces just to see him standing against one of the shop's wall - his eyes locked on your figure since God knows how long, merely hiding away from the rest of the Survey Corps. It was a miracle Levi didn't notice him staring - things could have escalated quickly otherwise.

You took Hange and the rest of your team to explore the city, explaining everything about their cultural and technological development.

"You've picked up the accent."

Jean scoffed, now bored of listening to everything you had to say. In the past 9 months, you had a full immersion experience of Liberio - you even managed to obtain a driving license. Hange had told you to maintain a discrete profile whilst trying to acquire as many skills as possible, and you did. Onyankopon as your main teacher, you had managed to completely blend in with the citizens of a nation that tried to exterminate your own population, destroying the city you grew up in and killing the people you loved. A nation that birthed Reiner, the love of your life, your nemesis - everything and nothing at the same time, the person that gave you everything and scarred you the most.

When the meeting was over, you greeted everyone and decided to part ways with them.

"They'll get suspicious if I won't be back.. Have fun for me too!"

You said, leaving the building before anyone could stop you or convince you otherwise.

Make sure nobody sees you leave. Hood over your head, keep your eyes down.

Finally entering what had now become your home, you took off the hooded cloak and hang it by the door. Hold habits die hard after all - and despite your cloak didn't have the wings of freedom on its back, it still reminded you of home, of Paradis, of your mission.

"Did they like it?"

Reiner said, greeting you at the door with a warm cup of coffee and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You only nodded in response, smiling weakly and accepting the cup of coffee. Making your way to the sofa, you let yourself fall on the soft fabric and kept silent. Replaying the day you just spent with your fellow comrades, you wondered whether it was fair for you to hate Reiner so much. Now that you're sitting in his apartment, drinking his coffee, living in his town. It's easy to wonder what life would be like if it wasn't for all these little games, the wars, the hate. You never questioned your loyalty towards Paradis, but sometimes you wished Reiner questioned his. After all, he was serving a country that hated him down to every stupid cell of his body.

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.

Tangled up in bed, you're full of him. Reiner's finger tips slowly drawing imaginary patterns on your soft skin whilst he tries to catch his breath. Making love with him was always exhausting, full of passion, and hate, and love, and remorse. It was an explosion of feelings, something that felt so right but so wrong. Loving him was incredibly easy - his features had grown with him, so much sometimes you could almost forget what he did. You could only see the beautiful man he had become, the thoughtful, loving man who only wanted to redeem himself. Who fell on his knees the first time he saw you again and begged for your forgiveness, because his feelings were always real. Because he had loved you since the first day of training as cadets and continued to do so even after so, so many years. Because he hated himself for what he did, wishing he stayed - wishing he would have known better.

It was always easy for Reiner to hit your soft spot, he was your only weakness. Your only motivation. If only your friends knew about this.. no one would approve this. But now your hair smell like his cologne and his lips taste like you, creating a bubble that you hoped would never pop.

"Say you'll remember me."

You whispered, passing your fingers through his blonde hair. Reiner raises an eyebrow in response, melting into your touch.

"Once this will be over."

You whisper again, biting your lips to try and stop the tears from flooding your eyes. His rough hand caresses your cheek and you melt onto his touch, your face slowly adhering to his palm. The sorrow your hearts feel is the same, after all, he only has a few years left.

"I will. Rosy cheeks and all."

Reiner answered, pulling you closer to him and hugging you tightly to his chest. You smiled, grabbing his face between your hands, taking your time to admire the handsome man you lover was. The way time and pain have marked his face, tracing little wrinkles around his forehead and eyes. His strong arms were now holding you and keeping you safe, and that's how you wanted to remember your lover. Handsome, in love, and yours.

It's no surprise I turned you in, 'cause us traitors never win. 

When you snuggled out of bed that morning, Reiner was still in deep sleep. Gentle snores filled the room and allowed you to dress up silently, packing the few thing you had left in his room. You took a second to observe him, as if you could photograph this moment with your pupils. The white sheets were messily covered his toned body, the bed still messy from the night before. You stared at him for a little longer, whispering a little "I love you" to him before leaving that apartment forever. Closing the door behind your back, you put the hood of your cloak on to cover your face - and wondered if he felt the same way 5 years ago, when he ran and never came back. If he felt the same ache in his heart, if he felt this much love for you - if he felt as a traitor.

It was too late to think look back now, as you put your new ODM gear on. Levi had been rehearsing the plan all day, everything was ready: Eren would signal the start of the counterattack.

Standing on the roof of a building, you observed the plan unravel swiftly, everything going according to plan.

"Everything okay?"

Jean carefully asked, noticing how you zoned out when Reiner crossed the stage. You shook your head weakly in response as you hoped with every fibre of your being he would not be Eren's aim. If Tybur was the main target of this campaign, why was Reiner even remotely involved?

Before you could even think twice about it, you were flying around buildings, fighting civilians and avoiding any stone Eren's titan would throw. You fought, you killed. The blood of civilian's that greeted you every morning and sold you the coffee you loved so much was now on your hands, and it was hard to ignore. It was hard to think that a more diplomatic approach wouldn't have solved things. Rushing to the airship to retire and follow the orders received from your superiors, you looked at Liberio for one last time. Scanning through the building, the smoke, the shots, you finally managed to catch a glimpse of the Armoured Titan. A bittersweet smile formed on your lips as you followed the titan's movements from above - it looked as beautiful as its owner, as crazy as this might have sounded. A chuckle escaped your lips as a tear streamed down your cheek, burning your skin as if your eyes were leaking acid.

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed.

[vibratingskull]

Fake dating part 4

Part 1, 2, 3

I took @al-astakbar​‘s idea and run with it.

Resume : Alone on an strange planet with a little chiss girl you walk desesperatly trying to reach coordinates given by a beacon. Here you are saved by Grand Admiral Thrawn’s crew and he proposes you an incongruous solution to your problem...

You wake up like a devil jumps out of its box, disheveled and tense like a bow string. You raise yourself so quickly you feel vertigo seizing you, with patting of your hand you find the button of the alarm clock and shut it down.

Wretched thing!

It sounded like the ship’s alarm right before the crash. You turn to the Grand Admiral’s side and note with pleasure that he is not here and his side is cold. He must be awake for some time now, he left you to sleep.

Good.

You really don’t want to see him.

You stand up, still groggy and mind fogged and head to the dresser. Ah! You forgot you only have dresses for now. You sigh and pass one on. You hate dresses. It leaves goosebumps on your skin, makes you feel naked and exposed. You need to feel the comforting sensation of fabric all over your skin to feel at peace and confident.

No use to precise you only had dresses as a slave…

You put on the longest and least becoming, trying to erase yourself in it. You go to the living room of the suite where the table has been dressed, there is so much variety, fruits, breads, brioches, fishes and meats with sides of vegetables. You hear your stomach grumble at that simple sight. You sit down and eat everything you can, if you live at the expense of an Imperial you will make him pay the biggest price. You devour everything that your hands can grab, stuffing yourself full like never before and rinse it down with sweet, milky caff.

You can’t eat anything more, you hide a burp behind your hand. It feels so good to be stuffed like that. You exit the room to come face to face with AP-3G waiting for you right behind the door.

“Good morning, my Lady!” it chants, enthusiasts.

You take a step back, surprised, almost blocking yourself in the door.

“Are you ready for an intense day of brain stimulation?” it sings with what you suspect to be a smile.

Its personality is really something else… 

“I guess I am.” You reluctantly admit.

You hoped you could sneak into Moarorou’s room for an hour or two before taking your lessons but apparently the Grand Admiral Thrawn beated you to it. Great. You follow the robot in silence while it talks to you about rules and protocols on the Chimaera, but you can’t listen, your mind is fixed on the little girl.

Your… child…

You can’t wrap your mind around this situation. This is such a mess.

“AP-3G?” It stops to talk to listen, “Could we study Sy Bisty today?” You ask.

“But we have so many subjects to learn! I planned to start with an enthralling Economic lesson followed by Algebra.” It seems disappointed.

You wince, not math! You hate that.

“I know, but I would really appreciate it if we could see Sy Bisty first. Please?”

Its head spins towards you, frowning like a severe teacher.

“No! We will follow the program the Grand Admiral choose for you.” It orders.

“Pretty please?” You try puppy eyes.

You have no chance of coaxing a Grand Admiral, but maybe you can a droid? It looks at you intently and you can almost see its brain spinning uncontrollably trying to reconcile its orders and your demand. 

“It’s for the well being of my daughter, the second person you are supposed to look after.”

You can almost see its head fuming with concentration.

“Alright!” It concedes, “But you better prepare for intense days of work and pressure, my Lady.” 

“Thank you AP-3G.” You thank it with a relieved smile.

“Do not thank me yet, I will prove myself severe and intransigent! All your agenda will be in shambles and we will need to catch up in all the other subjects!” It clucks. “You better ready that fleshy brain of yours!”

AP-3G didn’t lie to you and show itself serious and austere, only breaking the mean professor personna to sing a praise now and then or to say “how exciting it is to learn new things!”. You’re not sure for what purpose it was first built but it seems quite happy in its reconversion. It piles and piles homeworks on you, corrects you at each turn and threatens to hit your fingers with its ruler if you don’t do better. 

At your dismay your grasp on the Basic alphabet isn’t as good as you hoped and you have real difficulty reading even simple texts in Basic, so a text in Sy Bisty in Bogolan script…

“If I may Lady (f/n), this is terrible!” It lets you know, painfully honest “This is a text we give to elementary students. And I am not even talking about your writing skills, that is another level entirely. Sy Bisty is way too high level for you at this moment.”

“But I mastered the basics of the grammar and some syntax. I don’t need to read or write it for now but speak it, can’t you do anything?” You negotiate.

“Negative!” It flashes red “Those notions go hands in hands. Your grasp of the Basic alphabet and vocabulary are too poor, you can’t study this language without mastering Basic.”

You slouch on your seat, discouraged.

“You were supposed to study economics but if you can’t read a text properly it is no use. We will focus on Basic for now! Isn’t it great? Learning new things is so exciting!” It starts getting excited about learning again.

You hold your forehead as you trace the letters with your stylus on flimsi. Your neurons are on fire, you remember liking reading the children's books you had back at home but that was years and years ago, before your abduction into slavery. You didn’t get to practice and lost everything.

You breathe through your nose, annoyed. You feel stuck and stupid. How are you supposed to pass for a high Lady without being able to write and read well? You have so much to learn and so little time.

“Ah, you forgot a letter.” Thrawn says.

You literally jump out of your skin.

behind you Thrawn observes your progress, bent over your shoulder. Since when was he here? You didn’t hear him enter.

“Maker, never do that again!” You mumble, a hand on your beating heart.

“My excuses. I came to see the progress of my wife.” He simply says raising back up.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us! But learning is so fun!” AP-3G. chants again.

“I see you are studying writing.” Thrawn simply says, taking your flimsi to observe it.

You resist the urge to snatch it out of his hands and hide it. 

“I am sorry…” You just say, lowering your eyes on the table, ashamed of yourself.

“Why?” He just asks patiently.

“Because… It will take a lot of time to train me into a Lady. I can barely read and write, so sharing a conversation with all those rich people…”

You feel his burning gaze on you but you don’t meet his eyes, remaining still on your little student chair.

“We are all striving to do better each day. You will come around it eventually, keep practicing, everything will flow naturally after.” He puts your flimsi back in front of you. “As long as my wife strives to do better each day, I am satisfied.” 

And he leaves.

You look at the door he just exit through. You don’t like this guy, but at least he didn’t get angry with you. For now at least.

“No distraction! Now it is time to LEARN!” AP-3G exclaims suddenly.

Your brain is completely fried by the end of the day. You can’t align more letters to save your life but finally it tells you're free to go. You run to Maororou with your flimsi papers and pencils you sneaked out of the class. When you arrive at her door you breathe deeply and brace yourself, you enter with a large smile, hiding your exhaustion. She looks up to you and her face illuminates. 

“Y/n!” She calls.

“Maororou!” You come sit at the edge of her bed, showing her your progress.

She listens intently at your poor Sy Bisty trying to explain to her pronunciation and phonetics.

“A.”

“Aoh.”

“No : A.”

“Aoh.”

You shake your head with a smile.

“A.”

“Aah?”

“Almost : A.”

“A.”

You circle her shoulders with your arms and press her against your body.

“Yes! That’s it!”

She giggles and hugs you back, burying her nose in the corset of your dress, you caress her head as you teach her the other letters, she succeeds with more or less flair. You easily spend an entire hour when the door shushes open and Thrawn enters.

Again, mysteriously, Maororou seems aware of his presence before the door even opens.

“I see you are already transmitting what you just learned.” 

You press her tighter against you.

“Yes.” You shortly respond.

“It was not a critique,” he tempers, “On the contrary, this is an excellent spirit.”

“You wanted to speak with her?” You ask worried you will already be thrown of the room.

“No. I came to tell you dinner is served at our suite.”

“Oh…” You are surprised, why bother to tell you himself when he could have sent a droid. “Can I… Can I eat here with Maororou?” 

“This bedroom is hardly equipped to serve a full diner.” He counters.

“Oh it’s okay. I will have what she has. We can press ourselves on the bed to eat.”

He considers you in silence with a stern and aloof expression before landing on Maororou.

“As you wish.” He slightly bows and excuse himself.

You spend the evening laughing and crying, hugging the little girl, reveling in the warmth of each other, full of hope and fear for the future. She tries tracing Basic letters with her felt pens and she do even better than you for some. You applaud her success and support her to do more until you both fall asleep in the med bay bed.

You can’t be sure but you think someone entered the room to tuck you both in the little bed, in the each other arms.

You were not awake enough to distinguish the red eyes observing the touching scene, putting you to bed and exiting the room, cutting off the light.

@bdoggy7 @justanothersadperson93 @theeyesofasoldier @germansarechill @thrawnspetgoose @al-astakbar @readinglistfics @elise2174 @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

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[systematicallycapricious]

Here at last, my observations for English P4AU manga volume 4! Same formatting as my prior ones, no holds barred for spoilers, and fair warning that I'm writing this off of notes from 5 months ago; so if I miss some details, I apologize. Hectic life shenanigans have limited my ability to reread the volume. xP

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General Vibes

On the whole, I found this volume to be the best reading experience out of the 4 Udon-translated volumes. Aside from the persisting issue of conflating Sho and Minazuki via calling both “Minazuki”, as well as a few confusing absences of clarifying quotation marks, the narrative is cohesive and comprehensible.

I also think that it stands really well on its own, so, as I said before, I'd highly recommend Eng-Sho and Minazuki fans pick up Vol 4, even if you've been iffy on the Udon translations up until this point. In all honestly, I think Udon did a better translation of Vol 4 than the fan-translation that's out there on the internet, at least in terms of justice done to the characterizations of Minazuki and Sho. Their dialog, with a couple small exceptions, fit their expected lexicons much better.

(No shade to the fan-translation, of course! I'm still super-grateful that people took time out of their lives to give us some form of accessible translation long before Atlus got on printing an official translation, and the fan-translation is still pretty good with it's own wins.)

Also, Narukami's dialog was translated pretty well too, from what I recall, so fans of his might also find his inclusions in the story enjoyable. As for Adachi and Kagutsuchi... I'm not very well-versed in their characterizations, so I wouldn't be able to say. Adachi's lexicon did seem a bit out of character to me, though; like the underlying vibe is kinda the same as his typical lexicon, but the execution feels more 'censored', I guess? It's just the impression that I got, though.

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Specific Things

• ...They were so close to getting it right throughout the entire translation, but they stumbled at the finish line. Literally – this was within the final few chapters, and may have even been the final mention of Plumes of Dusk in the story, lol. And it's definitely the same kanji and kana that “Plume of Dusk” is always spelled with, so how or why they suddenly fabricated “darkness” in place of “dusk” is beyond me.

Also, for Eng reading context, what gets translated as “the other me” is “もう１つの人格を” with a gikun of “ミナヅキ” in the Jap text. So whether or not that should have vocally been “the other me” or “Minazuki” is up to you to decide. ~(•_•)~ (And for anyone who wants the full Jap transcription of that text bubble: ”黄昏の羽根”ってヤツから生まれたもう１つの人格を消す手術から眠ったままだったらしい)

• I wish that translators would interpret Minazuki's use of “黙れ(damare)” as “Silence.” rather than “Shut up.” It fits his pre-established (by Ultimax-the-game) lexicon far more, in my opinion.

(Jap version of the page [here], because I forgot to take a picture of it, apparently. :P)

• Kanazuki, my beloved nickname. (Though, because pursuing lore details, I'm not sure if Udon's “the two sides of Minazuki” is an accurate translation in this case? It seems to be more like “the two Minazukis”, like how fan-Eng interpreted it, but I don't know enough Jap to tell. For those who want the transcript: ところで２人の皆月のことみんななんて呼んでる？皆月？ミナヅキ？文面ならまだしも打ち合わせの時彼らは大変混乱を招いてくれやがりましてね......)

• It's nice to have the uncropped version of the original Yu cover art... But I'm a bit sad that we don't get the original Sho/Minazuki back-cover as a poster as well.

• Interesting detail: despite reprinting and reformatting the title logos, they seem to have kept the signature color for each volume the same (Vol.1/yellow, Vol.2/red, Vol.3/pink, Vol.4/blue).

• I've already stated some of my thoughts on Ch.28 and Ch.30 here, but for a few things that I didn't cover...

1) Minazuki specifically thinking “The humans are shouting.” gives us an interesting window into his mindset at the time.

2) The doctors were shouting at him because he was climbing up into an open window more-so than just shouting at him in general, lol.

3) The Ikutsuki death report reads more as if Minazuki was narrating it rather than it just being Sho staring at information on a screen, which I think is a neat interpretation.

4) Sho might've been attempting to finish the 'Minazuki extraction procedure' that Ikutsuki began, rather than just blindly attacking Minazuki? I'm not entirely sure, but it's an interesting angle to consider nonetheless.

5) Ikutsuki spinning Minazuki as an “evil spirit” as another generally useful tidbit to employ in Sho characterizations.

6) “Murder pit”. I'm keeping this for my Minazuki characterizations going forwards, lmao.

• Generally adoring the larger page size, 'cause I can see more details in the art that also help me understand the context better in a lot of scenes. For example! After Tsukiyomi takes the full-power hit from Izanagi, I can see the clear signs of exhaustion and Minazuki pushing his limits in the continuation of the fight. His movements are more desperate, he gets pronounced bags under his eyes, he has a kind of wide-eyed look to him, etc. Which I think is a really nice detail, because it shows that Minazuki isn't invulnerable: his desperation to protect Sho is just that strong.

The dialog at the beginning of that scene also helps to demonstrate that: rather than continuing to think in fluent and complex words, his internal monologue is reduced to simple, fragmented instincts (“Can't falter... Must protect... Must...!"). Which, again, a very interesting window into how Minazuki thinks. Even when put under the physical strain of grievous injuries, his first instincts (in this situation, at least) are to hold his ground in order to protect Sho.

(...Though, the Jap text of the aforementioned dialog is a bit different than Udon's translation, lol. It's more like “If I... don't protect... I—" (俺が......守らなければ...俺が――...))

• I don't have much to say about the fight against Kagutsuchi due to not having the best focus when I read through that part of the manga. Hopefully one day I'll reread it with better success. ^^;

• Suicidal Sho? I'm not entirely sure, though, as the “思ってた” in the Japanese version of the text (死んじまうかと思ってた時...) seems like it could mean either “I believe (that this will happen)” or “I plan (on making this happen)”? I don't know what linguistic contexts lend to what definitions, unfortunately, and the visual context could support it either way. (Not to mention, I have no clue if the sentiment is being expressed in a literal or frivolous capacity, given Sho can be hyperbolic at times. >_>)

...Also, I'm not counting Sho knifing his own face as an intentionally suicidal action, because (to the best of my ability to understand) that was intended to be homicidal. It's just that it would have also had a suicidal effect on him.

• Shadow puppet-Yosuke, Shadow puppet-Narukami, and Yosuke are great, lmao.

• Translations of General Teddie's script.

• Lastly, and maybe bestly: They got!! It right!! They kept Sho's name in Minazuki's “What are you going to do to Sho, Kagutsuchi?” line!! (Context: a previous observations/musings post of mine [here].)

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(If you wanna see the fan-Eng in higher quality than the screengrabs I used, you can find it on Mangadex [here].)

[milehighmegs]

My Genderfluid Journey: Part 1 of ?

A periodic series of observations

As a 42-year-old AFAB with 2 grown kids and 3 ex-husbands, coming out as genderfluid seemed... daunting. At least, I thought it would be. Turns out that was the easy part for me. My 3 best friends (one of whom is my ex) had zero issues with it, as did my daughter, son, & mom. Haven't been brave enough to tell my dad yet. Announced it on FB, here on tumblr, and on Xitter. The reception has been wonderful; lots of support & congrats, even from people I don't know. It's been sublime.

I won't get into all the details surrounding my genderfluid realization; most of it is 1) too personal, 2) TMI, 3) NSFW, and 4) puts other peoples' business/inclinations on blast and that ain't mine to put out in the world. What I can say is that this is far from recent, not just a whim, and definitely not a phase. I've been... not so much battling with as confused/indecisive about my gender identity since I was a kid. When I was 8 or 9, I saw the film 'Ghost' and fell in love with Demi Moore's super short pixie cut. I asked my mom if I could get it, and she (shockingly) said yes. I thought it looked adorable (and it DID), but when I got to school... you guessed it: I got teased for looking like a boy. I never could figure out what was so wrong with that. But I grew my hair out afterward, not cutting it short again until I was in my 30's.

Things got even more confusing after high school when I started wishing I was male because I wanted to be like all the wonderful gay men I was meeting in WeHo in the early 2000's: confident, expressive, fun... they just looked so FREE. They could be super masc, super femme, & everything in between in a way I couldn't be. On the few occasions throughout my life that I've been brave enough to adopt a more masculine look, I've been told I look like a 90's lesbian. Hardly an insult, but a) inaccurate (I'm not), and b) not what I was going for. It was like, DAMNIT, can't I just BE a GUY for like, a few days? And go back & forth whenever I want to? Why is it that I'm "supposed" to shave my legs because of what's between them? Why am I expected to wear dresses & heels because I have hips? And why the FUCK do I get dirty looks when I wear a plaid shirt with a band tee & Docs? Is it because of the TIDDIES?! Fuckin ridiculous, man.

As I got older and the world became (blessedly!) more accepting of all gender identities/orientations, I learned that there was a term for what I'd been feeling since childhood. Scrolling through FB, then Pinterest, and eventually Insta & TikTok, seeing genderfluid & trans people adopting & embracing their identities fully & openly gave me a great deal of happiness for them and for the world, but also mad gender envy (a term I learned only in the last 2 years). It really hit me hard when I saw 'The Sandman' for the first time: the ineffably amazing Mason Alexander Park as Desire had me asking myself some serious questions. I spent the better part of a year trying to put together what it was I was feeling with the new things I'd learned about gender fluidity before coming out. Now that I have a more fully-formed idea of what that means for me, I'm ready to really be MYSELF.

I've created a new Pinterest board titled 'masc looks & tips,' got a dozen open tabs on my laptop of genderfluid TikTok accounts, and a whole list of "guy stuff" I want on my phone. The part that sucks is that my broke ass isn't able to buy the $50 binder that's been so highly recommended by many; shit, I can't even afford the boxer briefs I've been eyeing for months. I also got a super feminine body: thicc thighs, wide hips, tiddies that make sure everyone can see them... in other words, it's pretty hard to drown these curves under an ocean of fabric. And since I'm only 5 feet tall, oversized clothes will literally just drag on the ground, making me look more like a kid who stole her older brother's clothes than a male-presenting genderfluid adult person. Gah.

I know that the next step for me is to lean into the traditionally masculine presentation that I've been craving most of my life. There are a lot of ways to do this, but I know step one for me is to tame these tiddies. I've been told that Ace bandages are a bad idea for binding, but I've also heard that they're perfectly safe as long as you do it right. Guess I'll just have to find out for myself. Also, I'll be dyeing my brows in the near future; I overplucked them in the 90's (yet another stupid ass beauty standard for women) and now they refuse to grow back. I ain't got the steady hands needed to draw them bitches in, so dye it is. Finally, I've got a haircut lined up for 3 weeks from now. I'm planning to undercut about a third of my head (think Natalie Dormer in 'The Hunger Games') and keep the rest of my hard-fought grown-out hair in a wolf cut. Maybe this will help encourage me to work harder and save up for all that "guy stuff" I've been craving.

Until then, it's tits & hips & feminine lips, all drowning under an ocean of fabric. Sigh.

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 118, Replies Part 2

1) “Oh yeah, Koichi got a lot of broken bones and lost a lot of blood less than two minutes ago. Good thing that was not easily solved and completely brushed aside, phew, it would be a problem if we had lasting damage to raise the stakes or something. Anyway, how’s your coma going Pop?”- Yet symbolic/meaningful, yet minor damage like Nomura’s scar-creating slash manages to stick around. Gotta love it. 2) “Koichi is mastering the art of of using so much power to blow up his target that whatever is behind said target remains completely intact, especially if it’s made out of glass.

The boy is truly becoming too powerful”- We could chalk it up to precise damage control, only inputting as much force as would be needed to blow through a target and lose all inertia when coming out the other side, but yes, Izuku’s own building-destroying punches always carried some collateral effects, which is why he needed to beat Overhaul up in the sky to go all out. 3) “yeah sure, now all his power comes from the power of friendship”- Friendship, and believing in himself!...but sadly, “believing in himself” also means he believes even more strongly in his “no-killing” rule. 4) “Shame that AfO has ignored the most likely scenario that explains this situation: The author is pulling it out of his ass as needed. It’s in a need-to-pull basis.”- Koichi has evolved to the ultimate tier of power: becoming the author’s pet character, and reaping the benefits. 5) “Well good thing he’s not literally burning himself away by kicking his, erm, quirk, into overdrive. You know, his plasma based quirk.”- Honestly, seeing Nomura start to falter a little might have helped here. Give some sense that this power-up is as taxing on him as it is destructive, rather than him just hovering on the verge of death for several chapters. 6) “All the fun thinking that Pop has more impact in the story as a ghost than as an alive person, I need to start grabbing the beer bottles again.”- Hey, at least this way she gets to contribute! 7) “Oh he’s gonna go for the close-and-personal hit?

…

KOICHI DID YOU FORGOT HE’S MADE OUT OF PLASMA? DO YOU KNOW HOW HOT THAT STUFF IS?!”-I mean, not much of an issue when Koichi’s punches have an automatic “keep-away” function built into them now. Guy’s a walking, hitting force field. 8) “You know Koichi, you should at least try aiming for his teeth, because apparently he can made solid teeth out of plasma.”- Nomura’s attempts to warp the fabric of reality in his favour to win are commendable, but doomed. 9) “OH MY FUCKING GOD ANOTHER FLASHBACK GOD PLEASE SAVE ME FROM THIS”- I can’t tell if this final battle was harder on Koichi, or you. This would’ve been a terrific opportunity to show Tenko there playing hero with them, although he most certainly didn’t live anywhere near Naruhata.

10) “This would’ve been a terrific opportunity to show Tenko there playing hero with them, although he most certainly didn’t live anywhere near Naruhata.”- Maybe, but his friends may have. He did go out and play ball with some of them when he was still innocent, it’s where he picked up the inspiration to become a hero like they all aspired to, until finding Nana’s picture solidified it. 11) “who the fuck just left their All Might figurine behind like that? Kids those days smdh…”- Litterers in the future throw away not only their disposable plastic junk, but also their perfectly-functioning toys too! 12) “You know, everybody just gives up wanting to be a hero a few years later. Everyone.”- Times like these, a re-read to refresh yourself on the inner lore of the world is necessary.  Eiichiro Oda has a whole conspiracy-ass corkboard that he refers to on occasion to keep track of plot points. 13) “DID- DID FURUHASHI FUCKING FORGOT WHAT HE FUCKING WROTE HIMSELF?!”- I can practically see the blood pouring from your eyeballs as you read this. 14) “OH LOOK, THE GHOSTS WENT AWAY

FUCKING FINALLY. GUESS THAT MESSING UP WITH THE TIMELINE SENT RIPPLES THROUGH TIME AND SPACE”- The ghosts went away, but the fight goes ever onward… 15) “I had a feeling before you were treating me like I was stupid Furuhashi, but after that last flashback I’m sure of that, and I will never forgive you for that.”- To be fair, with the monthly release schedule, I’d totally forgotten about the content of the earlier chapters, so I didn’t pick up on the inconsistency until you pointed it out.

(Vigilantes ch 116) 16) “WHEN YOU PRETTY MUCH ACT LIKE IT WAS NO BIG DEAL, JUST A FANTASY THAT YOU WERE READY TO GROW OUT OF

RIGHT???”- And now, with the hoodie getting burst and blasted away to nothing by Nomura’s barrage, it’s finally time for the Crawler to end his vigilante days for good. @thelreads