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#I love those small plant details
ash3 · 8 months
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Gifts of summer and fall
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b4kuch1n · 2 years
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learning how to color with my new screen tablet. turns out people still zoom in digitally and dont put their face up to ~.3 cm from the screen
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cinnabeat · 5 months
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i love my go to method to making a place look cluttered and Lived In in my illustrations is to have papers tacked on the wall or on corkboards and shit
#nothing screams This Is An Environment like sticky notes everywhere#in my experience#my next apprach is usually stacks of books with papers sticking out#im usually terrible at drawing nicknacks in spaces just cuz it looks cery Dead and uniform#i try to use my own space as a reference but frankly i have So much shit and its usually small and doesnt match the vibe of whatever im draw#drawing so its usually not very helpful#so papers on walls is usually my go to#anyways im impressed vy how this is looking tbh#the color and rendering is going to be a fucking nightmare#michi tag#i debated drawing a lamp but i think the presence of a lamp that isnt even on will detract from what im trying to say#anyways im not usually big on like backgrounds and environments so this is a really good exercise to flex those non existent muscles#i think what makes it easier is that its fairly zoomed in so i dont have to draw a giant background for a tiny character and also#i had a pretty clear idea of what i generally wanted if not the minute details like the plant i added yesterday#ao its like ok a person hunched over a desk. blinds for the prison bar look a wastepaper basket for the MANY scrapped letters. aers everywhr#everywhere. thats the general idea so i just add the major elements and then go ok how do i fill in this empty space and just start adding s#shit. looking up reference pics helps too cuz idk what people normally have on their desks#i fucking love talking abt my art process bc if someone asked me in real life i couldnt say anything but if im talking to myself i have so m#much to say. no one wver asks the right questions during critiques anyways
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Finally finishing all these guys we’ve got charts and headcanons! (Long post)
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(Height)
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(Wingspan)
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(Body length & basic shapes I used) (it might be odd but ignore any detail on the back, the shapes are for general body shape)
Headcanons:
Seawings: - Colors range from red and purple to yellow - Aquatic is based off areas of bioluminescence rather than singular scales (because no one wants to draw all of those) - Although they average small compared to the other tribes, gigantism is more common - Wing bioluminescence gene is always present but for some doesn't show, thus aquatic doesn't utilize the wings
Rainwings: - Can change the texture of their scales alongside color - Weakest bite due to their fangs, probably why they're vegetarian - Mimic interesting behaviors - Have forked tongues
Mudwings: - Colors range from olive green to purple-ish red - Very resilient - Able to breathe fire regardless of body temperature, the heat of the flame depends on body temp - Their horns constantly grow and sometimes have to be cut due to dangerous growing patterns - Love gnawing on things, tough foods like jerky is popular - The horn covers of fallen siblings are harvested and turned into instruments to remember them by
Leafwings: - Colors range from gold to teal (and pink to olive green during cold seasons) - Can appear to have false eyes - Bug-like just like the other Pantalan residents (because they're just some weird outlier like what is going on here) - Leafspeak doesn't actually allow them to hear voices from plants but rather increase the sensitivity of their antennae which pick up on the changes in plants - In colder seasons, regions that have deciduous trees influence leafwings in that their scales change into warm tones similar to fallen leaves for camouflage but this also negatively impacts one's leafspeak ability; this doesn't apply to evergreen leafwings however
Hivewings: - Colors range from hot pink to olive green - Can appear to have false eyes - Have elbowed antennae just like their "cousins", Hymenoptera (wasps, bees, ants) - Tend to disregard personal space/get close out of habit, being close means better temp regulation and better communication - All hivewings have stingers, wrist stingers, and a venomous bite but it largely depends on preference of which they choose and like muscles, they can be exercised to become deadly weapons - They're not capable of "emitting a horrible stench"
Icewings: - Colors range from white to pale indigo - Melanism is still very rare but more likely in icewings - Can be iridescent in any color, especially visible in lighter scaled individuals - The scales on their face is very fine and is flushed with blood which darkens the area and allows them to see in the snow by absorbing light, otherwise the glare from the sun reflecting off would be a hinderance - Their wings are thin and thus have visible veins most of the time - Idk how to describe their scales other than its kinda like basalt formations - From the side they appear large but are actually thin and flexible - They can freeze to death if they've gone without cold for a long time and then reintroduced too quickly - In hybridization, they have dominant genes, partially because the animus gene - The extra mane of horns can appear randomly on the body in singular spikes, they also make a clink sound when they collide as if they're made of ice, making a pretty scary rattle when disturbed
Nightwings: - Colors range from orange to purple - Albinism is still very rare but more likely in nightwings - Dwarfism is more common - Teardrop scales are always present, highlighted when the dragon has powers regardless of type - Pitbull ready to bite kids - They CAN hang upside down as the books suggest but not for long - By taking dust baths, they dull their scales to reflect less light and blend in better in the dark - Have white fire but cant breathe for long due to how hot it is (this is mainly to add onto the mysterious factor of em and I always liked the idea) - Due to eye sensitivity, they hate sudden bright lights and will close their eyes as they breathe fire
Silkwings: - Can have black or dark accents but never as a whole body color unless they've hybridized - Wing shapes vary widely - Can appear to have false eyes - Flamesilk is rarer than one might think - Very flexible and have strong tails used as a sort of 5th limb in climbing - Albino or melanistic dragons still keep their iridescence - Silk is emitted through a spinneret on the chin rather than the wrists - Prefer to travel in pairs (instinct)
Sandwings: - Colors range from red to olive green - Dark patters often mimic a snake's - Horse-like in complexion - Alongside their snake-like appearance, they have pit organs - Tend to move like birds - Poor eyesight but good hearing - Their horns angle upwards sort of like a bull
Skywings: - Colors range from red to yellow (and green because skywings are meant to be your typical fire breathing dragon which is most often depicted to be red but can also be green) - Tend to move like birds - Weaker than they appear - Green skywings are incapable of being or having flamescales - Their horns constantly grow and have to be filed down - A flamescale cant melt rock or metal by touch alone, only via fire is it possible - It's not that they don't want flamescales that they kill them, it's more of a mercy killing because of how lonely their life can be
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analyzing some images (for fun)
so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)
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everything under the cut !
unique traits
aziraphale:
1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm
2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr
3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)
4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.
5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
crowley:
1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧
2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3
3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT
4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it
5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞
6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH
similarities
mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….
1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos
2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….
3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….
4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever
5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃
6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,
okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔
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s-4pphics · 6 months
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click! 1 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 
two. three. four.
A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall
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“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 
Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 
“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”
Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 
“I got that internship— “
All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 
“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 
Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 
Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 
“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 
“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “
“Maya.” 
“Hm?”
“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 
You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 
People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 
Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 
It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 
“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 
Oh God. “What?” 
She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “
The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  
“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 
Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 
“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 
“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 
“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”
When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 
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DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 
DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 
DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 
It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 
DENY REQUEST. 
DENY REQUEST. 
DENY REQUEST. 
You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 
Why are people… so odd? 
The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 
Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!
All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 
Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 
They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 
You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 
ELLIE WILLIAMS. 
Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 
temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 
… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.
At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 
She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 
But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 
You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.
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“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 
Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 
Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 
A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 
“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 
She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 
You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “
“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 
“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 
Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 
“You’re so fucking extra— “
DING!
Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 
“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 
Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  
“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 
You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 
“The wettest. Go.” 
You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 
You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 
“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 
“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 
Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 
“Alright.” 
More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 
“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 
“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 
More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 
“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 
She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 
“What’d I say!” 
“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“Oh yeah what.” 
“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 
A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 
Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 
Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 
… Cute. 
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You’re going to fail statistics over a random.
Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 
She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 
Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 
Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 
The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 
Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 
“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 
“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 
She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 
You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 
Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 
“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 
A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 
She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 
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“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 
Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 
“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 
Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 
“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 
The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 
“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 
“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 
“Sike.” 
You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 
“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “
You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”
“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “
Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 
Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 
“Right.” 
“I do, what the he— “
“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 
“Hm?” 
“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “
Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 
“Wait— “
“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 
Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 
Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 
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Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 
When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 
You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 
At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 
“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 
Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 
“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 
She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 
Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 
“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 
“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 
She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 
“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 
“Damn… My fault.” 
“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 
“Go out! Find somebody!” 
You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “
“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 
You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.
“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 
Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 
“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 
“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “
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Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 
You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 
It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 
Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 
Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 
Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 
You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 
Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 
When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 
Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 
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The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 
A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—
“I’m here,” She states plainly. 
“… Why?” You croak.
Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 
“To move in.” 
“… Why?”
Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 
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Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 
“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 
“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “
“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 
Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 
She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?
Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 
“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 
Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”
Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 
What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...
For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 
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tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane
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chaiifluuf · 1 month
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“i think you missed a spot.” 
you don’t even know how you and dazai got to this point but you were definitely not complaining and neither was he.
it all began with you wanting to test make-up on him for fun, then demonstrating how to apply lipstick and now you’re sitting on the bathroom floor with your greedy boyfriend who won’t stop asking for kisses. the cherry red shade on your lips matched all the kissing marks covering his face. his eyes look dazed and dilated, eyes which were trained on you and accompanied by a lazy smile. his messy hair that managed to make him even more attractive. dazai quite literally seemed like he was drunk off your kisses.
“you sure?” you murmur as you inspect every detail of his face. there aren’t many places left that haven’t gotten your attention and you think maybe this would be enough. dazai begs to differ. he hums affirmatively to your query, tapping a finger on his lips as if indicating for you to kiss there next. he can never have quite enough, can he? a soft smile rises to your mouth and without a second thought, you lean in again.
you’re certain that your lipstick is smeared by now but you couldn’t care any less. your soft lips in touch with his is all you can focus on, his hands cupping your face to bring you impossibly closer. he slightly nibbled on your lower lip as you sighed against his mouth, running a hand through his hair. he’s much more needier this time, a type of desire that you’re not unfamiliar with. the kiss lasted until both of you were left breathless, dazai’s hot breath tickling your skin as your forehead is still in contact with his.
“i want more,” he mumbles to you and your heart skips a beat. you swear you can see small hearts in his irises as he looks at you. there is so much love in his gaze that it makes every single doubt you might have had in this relationship disappear. it wasn’t even the teasing kind of glint that you usually see, just pure devotion and yearning that only you get to witness in moments like these. you must’ve been admiring him for a long moment because what he says next catches you a little off guard.
“please.”
he says your name as well and his voice is so tender yet desperate. dazai almost never begs. and if he does it’s either to annoy you or to get you to leave the agency with him early. but this is neither of those instances. your kisses really did something to him. or perhaps broke him.
“i don’t know… you seem like you’re on a bit of an overdose right now.” you tell him with a breathy laugh as you brush some of his hair strands behind his ear, taking this chance to tease him a little. his reaction doesn’t disappoint, the subtle pout appearing on his lips not going missed by you.
“i think i’ll go crazy if you stop here. my love, please.” you can feel the butterflies in your stomach because god this version of dazai makes you fall for him even more if that’s possible. besides, how could you ever say no to him when he’s like this? before responding, you plant another tender kiss on his forehead, which already had a few kissing stains here and there. you decide to whisper your next words, your tone having more warmth than previously.
“then let’s continue this in the bedroom, hm?”
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eeee very short but kinda proud of this one ! wishing everyone a good day/night ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
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love your blog bby!! i was just thinking about how rafe would react to you being so upset at him when he cancels on y’all’s night in together. you’re like full on pouting as he’s trying to leave. i just know he’s gonna give in like omgggggg
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“that’s the third time barry has called.. just answer it.” you pulled away from rafe, your boyfriend pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he answered the call, putting barry on speaker. “i was in the middle of something, asshole, this better be good.” rafe huffed into the phone. “oooh, give me all the details later.” you rolled your eyes, laughing to yourself as barry started speaking again. “but on a serious note, we actually have a problem here..” he trailed off. rafe sighed, “what kind of problem?”
“you know those guys we met up with on the mainland? i was recounting the money they gave us, and there’s five counterfeit bills.” your eyes widened as rafe shot up from the bed, slipping his shirt back on. “‘the fuck you mean there’s five counterfeit bills?! are you sure?” you were quick to put on your robe, following rafe to the living room. “yeah, i’m sure, man. no blue stripe and i used a marker.” rafe cursed under his breath. “i say we go back tonight.” you couldn’t help the pout from forming on your lips, your boyfriend meeting your glistening eyes. “..tonight?” rafe could see right through you, the pleading look on your face pulling on his heartstrings.
“yes, tonight! do you really think they’re gonna stay in town after pulling this shit on us?” you shook your head, trying your hardest to keep rafe home. “alright, i’ll be there.” you deflated, shoulders falling in defeat as he hung up. “rafe..” your voice was small, the sound of his keys making your eyes water. “you’re always with barry! can you be mine just for one night?” you pulled on his arm. rafe turned around, planting a kiss on your temple. “please, baby. i’ll be back before you know it. promise.” before you could object, he walked out the door.
you whimpered, making your way outside as you watched rafe slowly move towards the end of the driveway. “don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look back,” he whispered to himself, a groan erupting from his mouth when he glanced in the rear view mirror. there you were, your eyes full of tears, lips all swollen from the intense make out session that occurred before his phone had to ring. he put his foot on the brake, watching the thin material of your robe move freely in the night air. you were always such a good girl for him. everytime he came home, he was greeted with the biggest hug and kiss, your excitement making him feel like he was important; like he was special.
“fuck it.” you smiled, jumping on your toes as he started reversing back in his original spot. rafe decided he was not only going to turn his phone off, but leave it in the truck altogether so he could solely focus on you. he didn’t even get to open the door all the way before you wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him while he smiled against your skin. “you’re staying?” you gazed up at him, stroking the underside of his jaw. “yeah, yeah. ‘now go meet me inside, i want you on all fours.”
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eggluverz · 8 months
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STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR
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PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader
CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!! 
WORD COUNT. 5,332
SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?
SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :> 
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“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow. 
It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared. 
As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”
He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion. 
“Beautiful.”
You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”
“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”
You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors. 
“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”
“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”
Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face. 
You pouted. “Hey!”
“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”
“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”
“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”
“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.” 
“And mine, yours.”
Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s. 
Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity. 
You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs. 
No, that was nothing. 
Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his. 
He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.
That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that. 
Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having. 
Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through. 
Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him. 
But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again. 
The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day. 
He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”
You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course. 
Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up. 
If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away. 
“Y/N…” 
You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”
Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?” 
“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.” 
He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”
“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars. 
Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.
“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly. 
Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”
“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?” 
You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”
“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”
Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you? 
You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody. 
And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself. 
And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free. 
It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng. 
And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of. 
This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.
Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.
He knew what he had to do.
Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Where are they?” 
Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning? 
Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.
“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”
“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”
With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time. 
“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”
Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself. 
His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”
Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.” 
“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.” 
He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do? 
He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.
The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined. 
It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation. 
You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future. 
Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.
Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life. 
Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.
He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters. 
Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul. 
“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.” 
You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.
“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.
“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.” 
You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.” 
Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.” 
“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased. 
You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.
“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?” 
He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”
At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.
“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.” 
“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.” 
He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”
You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin. 
“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments. 
While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions. 
He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him. 
“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”
Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant. 
You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”
He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you. 
“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”
You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”
He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing. 
“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”
“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”
You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”
“From my dreams.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless. 
“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”
With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”
He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”
You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”
“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”
“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”
Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.
“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”
He tilted his head to the side. 
“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?” 
“You sound ridiculous.” 
His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth. 
“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”
Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body. 
“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”
Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”
“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”
His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”
You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself. 
Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever? 
After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.” 
He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him. 
“Thank you,” he breathed. 
With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison. 
“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”
Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”
“I understand.” 
You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly. 
“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response. 
“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.” 
You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”
Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.” 
The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person. 
“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”
Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.” 
Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”
You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”
At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket. 
“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.” 
He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest. 
“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”
It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you. 
Instead, it was a white peony. 
You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white. 
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rheya28 · 4 months
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Frost Point Ski Resort [ Rental ] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC
Welcome to Frost Point, a ski resort nestled in the peak of Mt. Komorebi, where the chilly winter air is infused with the warmth of hospitality. Frost Point is not just a destination for winter enthusiasts; it's a haven for those seeking a cozy and inviting atmosphere.
The resort boasts charming, rustic architecture, with snug lodges that feature crackling fireplaces and plush furnishings. Picture yourself sipping hot cocoa by the fire after a thrilling day on the slopes, surrounded by the laughter of fellow guests sharing tales of their adventures.
Additional Notes: ● Obviously we do not have a hotel lot, however you can set this lot to a rental or a residential rental to make it somewhat function like one. You can also just set this as a generic lot for storytelling purposes.
● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build
➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO
00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:10 Speed Build 16:16 Photos
➽ LOT DETAILS
Lot Name: Frost Point Ski Resort Lot type: Rental, Residential Rental, Generic Lot size: 50x50 Location: Mt. Komorebi
➽ MODS
● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi
➽ CC LIST:
Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker, kiwisim4. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! Harrie ● Baysic Bathroom ● Country ● Brownstone ● Klean ● Octave pt [2] (Door), pt [4] (bed) ● Shop the Look pt [1][2] ● Spoons pt[2][3] ●Stockholm (Floor lamp) ● Orjanic (Windows) The Clutter Cat ● Busy Bee pt [2] (Ceiling Light ) ● Dandy Diary pt [2] ( Chess table) ● Sunny Sundae (rug) Bbygyal123 ● Abstract Prints FelixAndre ● Berlin (Office Chair) ● Kyoto pt [2] ● Chateau pt [5] (books), pt [4] (small plant) ● Florence pt [4] (Floor pattern) ● Grove pt [2] (coffee cups), pt [3] (Cushion) Charly Pancakes ● Maple & S Construction pt [3] ● Dinna (Small plant) ● Soho pt [1] ( Rug) House of Harlix ● Harluxe ● Jardane LittleDica ● CountrySide Cabin ● Rise & Grind Rustic Sims ● Mayaken Cozy Kitchen (Ceiling Lamp) ● Modular Life (Wall art) Myshunosun ● Garden Stories (String lights) ● Lottie ● Tranquil bedroom (Ceiling light) Peacemaker ● Coba (Ottoman) ● Gently Draping ● Pointless Renovation ● Wood Slat Flooring (Vertical and horizontal) Pierisim ● Calderone (mirror) ● Coldbrew ● David Apartment pt [1] ● Domaine Du Close pt [2][3] ● MCM ● Oak House pt [5] (Pillow bedding), pt [4] ● Unfold ● Winter Garden pt [1] ● Woodland Ranch Sixam ● Cozy Family (decorative rug) ● Home Office ( Tablet keyboard) ● Hotel Bedroom (desk) Syboulette ● Ratatouille (Simlish sign's) MycupofCC ● The modernist Dining (wall art) The Townie Architect ● The Moderno Living Room (wall art) Tuds ● Cross (wall divider) ● Ind
● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__
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sirfrogsworth · 4 months
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Photo Restoration Project - Part 1
A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.
But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.
The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.
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Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.
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But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.
And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.
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Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.
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What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.
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Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.
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This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.
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Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.
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Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.
In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.
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Next up is some cuteness...
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A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.
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Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...
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As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.
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A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...
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This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.
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Next up we have a landscaping project...
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This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.
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With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.
I'll do the abridged explanation...
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The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.
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I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.
And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...
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Then I did my standard clean up techniques...
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Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.
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Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.
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That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.
Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!
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ineffable-suffering · 7 months
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The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie
Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley
Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.
So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:
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(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)
As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.
When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.
Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.
Ergo:
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✨This✨
Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!
Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.
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Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.
Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.
Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...
... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:
Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."
At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)
Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!
And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).
But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.
Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)
This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.
So, riddle me this:
Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?
To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–
No.
He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.
During one car ride.
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Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!
Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.
Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?
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Talk about over the top ...
Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?
These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.
Oh, right, speaking of books:
Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:
Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...
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... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?
That's right: Giving away his books.
I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.
Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?
Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.
And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.
Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):
Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."
Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!
And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.
You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?
Mhm, that's right.
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This pretty old serpent.
I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:
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You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.
And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.
I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.
As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.
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... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?
"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.
Marvellous!
You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and
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However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:
"Have you thought of just talking to him?"
Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?
'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?
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Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!
Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)
On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.
Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?
Well. Well.
The answer's in the title, babes.
Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!
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Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.
And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?
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Oh, bless it, angel.
He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"
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Ah yes, there he is.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.
Oh, yes, right. The dancing.
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Parallel much?
But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).
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And once again, fhwack:
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... the rosy bubble bursts.
Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:
In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.
During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:
doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed
remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley
and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)
So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”
The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.
And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.
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*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.
***
Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!
Au revoir! 💗
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Text
ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
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ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."
Word count: 3,800.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
MEETING - 1. Her.
Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable perseverance, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."
Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.
Every night, in silent supplications, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."
Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.
She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.
Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.
Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.
"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.
"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.
"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg. 
"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.
"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.
"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.
"Thank you, Jace."
"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.
He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.
"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.
"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"
"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.
"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.
"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.
"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.
"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.
"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.
"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.
Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.
"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.
"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.
Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.
"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."
She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.
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Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.
"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.
"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."
"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."
She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"
"It's beyond our understanding."
She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.
Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.
"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.
"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"
"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.
"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.
Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?
"They gave me a pig!"
"A what?" the queen asked.
"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.
She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.
"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.
Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.
"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.
The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.
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She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.
It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.
She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.
"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."
"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.
"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.
"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.
"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.
"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.
"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"
"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.
"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.
"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.
"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.
"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."
She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.
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There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.
She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.
They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.
Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.
She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.
"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.
"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.
She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.
She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.
Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.
Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.
Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.
She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.
It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.
The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.
She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so, with her book in hand, marched towards him.
Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.
She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.
She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.
He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.
How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.
Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.
"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom." 
She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."
Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"
"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.
"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.
"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.
"Yes, of course."
"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.
"Yes, I did."
"Did you see any?"
"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.
"Gods! You must have been so terrified."
"Not really" he simply responded.
"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.
She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.
Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.
It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.
"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.
"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.
Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.
"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.
"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.
"Goodnight, my prince."
"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.
"Nothing would make me happier."
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bizbat · 3 months
Note
Those Jason crush hcs were so funny (obvi they were cute too) butJason getting so embarrassed he tried to crawl outside with 4 bullet holes and half his blood outside his body was such a mood. Me too dude. Can we have some more of him being delulu about his crush? It was so deliciously embarrassing and funny. What would happen if his wifey/husbando was just boldly was like- “Jason we're not dating, why would you think we were? We're not even having sex?”
EVEN MORE! When They're In Love Headcanons - Jason Todd
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ Fem terms used for reader.
~ Mild smut alluded to but nothing explicit.
~ You can find parts One, Two, and Three here!
~ You can find more of my works here.
~ This is gonna be mostly fic bc I am running out of ideas lol. This took an inappropriate amount of time to write omg
~ Jay is kinda toxic so Tw: Unhealthy Relationships Dynamics, mentions of having children, slight violence, Jason is a freak and reader is tired.
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By now, I've made it clear that this man is deep in the delusion.
But I haven't really gone into detail in what I mean by that.
I mean he'll say something teasing in jest, and if you reciprocate that energy even the tiniest bit, he will take that and run with it.
Though that's not even solid, bc if you take everything he says literally, he'd still think you're playing along.
Jason could make a joke with someone and not gaf about their response, but you could say the exact same thing as the person he joked with and he'd get heart eyes.
So far, I've kinda been writing with an oblivious reader in mind but a reader who knows all of Jason's delusions would pretty interesting lol.
You'd probably overhear him talking to Roy or Dick about your "date" last night.
Read: He broke into your apartment while you were at work and surprised you with chinese takeout when you got home.
I think if you confronted him about his delusions, he'd be willfully ignorant, and act like he doesn't know what you mean.
~ Drabble Starts Here. ~
Lian seems so happy, you can't bring yourself to be the bearer of bad news.
You're sat beside the little girl at her even littler table, the handle of a plastic teacup loosely gripped between your thumb and forefinger, your pinky high up in the air. The smile on your face is sincere as she mindlessly babbles, pouring sugar water into your cup.
You can't help but grimace when she encourages you and her stuffed animals to drink up, and you can't help but feel like the girl is being somewhat malicious when she seemingly starts interrogating you, only to push the cup of surgery water back to your lips whenever you to to answer her litany of, frankly, over-personal questions.
Some of the questions you don't mind, they're about as pure and unassuming as the pink princess tiara laying crookedly atop her head. It's when she asks if you and Jason are gonna get married and have babies with the most deadpan face you've ever seen on a child, that finally makes you choke on the (syrup) water.
"Excuse me?!" You ask, wiping away the mess on your face with a embroidered napkin and desperately trying not to hack up the rest of the beverage, undissolved grains of sugar still residing in the back of your throat. "Why would we do that?" You manage between coughs.
Lian glances towards Jason, who is sat at the table across from the two of you, his knees tucked up to his chest, as he hides his face behind his miniature teacup, though it's mostly ineffective, as the cup looks like a shot glass in his massive hand. Lian innocently looks back to you, as if you were the one who'd asked the more confusing question.
"Uncle Jay said you were dating. Isn't that what happens when people date?"
You crane your neck as you slowly turn your head towards Jason, who is avoiding your ice cold gaze like his life depended on it. "Oh, really?" You ask Lian through gritted teeth, though your gaze is solidly planted on Jason. "Did he now?"
"Mm-hmm," The small girl cheerfully nods her head, the dark braids framing either side of her face swinging from the force of her enthusiasm. "He told me you guys were gonna have a bunch of kids so I could have more people to play with!"
You can't help but stare incredulously at the child as she explains. By now, Jason's put down the cup, giving up at his attempt to hide behind it and simply covering his mouth with his hand, sitting silently like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs as he waits for you to start chewing him out. But it never comes.
"You are, right? I really want more friends." Lian's pleading is almost enough to make you change your mind and agree right there. Almost. As if sensing that she hasn't fully convinced you, Lian continues, going on and on about how she would be a really really good big sister or cousin if you had babies, or how much she's always wanted to go to a wedding, and how pretty you'd be as a bride, and-
She knows better than to continue when you gently raise your hand, as if you're silently saying "That's enough, Lian, please stop talking." You do feel a little remorseful as the girl's once happy demeanor changes to a shyer, more somber at the apparent rejection. You sigh and roll your eyes, finishing of the tiny cup of, what is now, pure sugar. "Maybe someday, Lian."
You put your hand up again, bracing her for the next part of your sentence when you see her start to get riled up again. "But absolutely no promises. Uncle Jay and I need to have a very important conversation later about it, though." That's enough to please Lian, as she goes right back to asking you other invasive questions that have nothing to do with your love life.
Jason, though happily surprised by your answer, stays silent over the next few hours. He honestly forgets you were ever even mad at him to begin with. It's not until you leave and the sky turns that familiar dark red, that you punch Jason in the arm as hard as possible, which, in all honesty, he can't really feel.
Though he does wince and hold his arm in the place where you hit him, to keep your ego intact if nothing else.
"What was that for?!" He dramatically gasps, pouting as he rubs the "sore" spot on his upper arm. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recognize it's kinda cute that he plays into your delusions. Just a little.
"Why would you tell Lian of all people we're dating?!" Your hand subtly clenches by your side, though you try to hide the slight pain punching him gave you, at the end of the day, Jason was raised by a detective. "Why would you even say that when you know it's not true?!"
"First of all," He starts, grabbing your hand. "I tell everyone we're dating." He starts soothing your sore knuckles as he tugs you towards your apartment building. He's so confident as he speaks it's genuinely bewildering. "And second, we are dating."
When he sees the utterly gobsmacked look on your face he continues. "We go on dates," (he just shows up at your home once a week. "We get gifts for each other," (he got you a stray kitten he rescued off the street and he steals your underwear). "We have sex-"
"Okay, number one: No we don't," You say, holding your hand out in front of you just like you did with Lian. "Number two: No we don't," You can almost see his eyes glaze over. He listens to every other thing you say, but when you're telling him your not together? That's when he tunes out.
"And number three: that only happened once!" It comes out a harsh whisper. Your face and ears feel hot with embarrassment, but Jason just shrugs. "Three times, actually, but who's counting?" Jason has a sweet, intentionally dopey looking smile.
You're left speechless by his demeanor. "Just kiddin' . . . I'm counting." He thinks the awkward, bewildered silence is hilarious. So he just keeps talking. "I mark it down in my calendar . . . Celebrate it once a month . . . Might get the dates tattooed."
"Jason." You interrupt.
"Hmm?"
"Go home." He looks over and realizes you're both in front of your apartment door, having talked the whole way. Again, he shrugs, pulling a spare key out of his pocket and moving to unlock your door. "Oh my fucking g-"
"What?" He stops, holding up the key midair. "What's wrong?" "Jason," You groan, rubbing your temples. "Why do you have a key to my apartment?" By now you shouldn't be so surprised, but you are. "Oh, this?" He hold up the key, equally confused that you would even ask. "I had one made when we started dating. How did you think I get in for our dates?"
He can almost smell the exhaustion wafting off you at this point. "Plus I live here."
"Jason you don't-"
"I'm just busy! I know, I know, I should be home more, but when I'm blah blah blah." No longer unused to his inane ramblings, you unlock the door and push past him. You don't even stop him when he follows you inside, still going on about his delusions. You just roll your eyes when he takes of his shoes and jacket and tosses them aside like they he really does live there.
"You shouldn't make dinner, you've had a long day, we can order-"
He's interrupted by yet another sigh. "Jason," you begin, plopping down on the couch. He shuts up and listens intently to every sound coming from your mouth. "I just . . ." You sit up straight. "You don't live here, you're a stalker, and we are not dating." Jason nods as you talk, slowly, as if he's taking in what you said.
"I . . . I understand. I really am sorry I've upset you, but," He kneels on the ground in front of you, gently placing his hand on your thigh. "I am not a stalker." He's incredulous, and you're tired. At this point, what more can you do beside oblige him and his delusions. You sigh again, a deep, deep sigh that instantly drains you of the rest of your energy and makes you deflate into the couch. "Okay, Jay," You say, undressing as you stand and begin walking back to your room. "You win, you're my boyfriend. Goodnight."
Jason just happily nods as he watches you walk to bed. "Yeah, yeah, I win." He's just happy you finally came to your senses. "Night!" He happily calls after you.
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robobarbie · 2 months
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Hello hellooooooo! We recently had a banner contest in the discord server, and I wanted to show y'all the awesome entries that didn't win. They're all really cool in their own ways, so I wanted to give them each a lil moment.
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(by @/jestie)
Love the focus on xyx!! He reminds me almost of what I'd think teenage him would look like. Very chill, sporty, and out with friends on a beautiful spring day. The linework in this feels really soft as well -- especially on those hat details. AND THERE'S CAT!! CAT!!!
All other submissions under the cut!
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(by @/hunddenseje)
I like the details in the flowers a lot for this one. The way people draw roses and how they choose those inner patterns is always neat. And the little plants and mushrooms on his shoulders are fun!! They go well with that striped shirt pattern!!!
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(by @/stintsy)
The way this artist circled the boys with that pink rosy pattern will stick in my brain for a while. It's v pretty, and it's like they opened a bush and found us in there for some reason. "Hello! Happy Spring!" Thanks boys please close it back up!!! It's my cry hour in the bush!!!!
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(by @/emmascient)
This person's artstyle is so unique and full of life. The little spots of light coming through the trees just adds to whole thing, too. And I really like seeing fanart of owl with textured hair!!! Also check out xyx's fucking biceps holy fucking sh-
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(by @/.mewo.)
Just a bunch of bros on their lunch break bayBEEEEEEEEEE!!! I like the detail of toast's coat tied around their waist and the fucking anti-societyboy shirt quest is wearing LMFAO. Also cat is ADORABLE in this. God. More cat art. Always need more cat art!!
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(by @/c1nnadoll)
Every time nightowl is drawn in a croptop, two months is added to my life. I just know it's true. God bless that cute ass flower crown and the perfect little peace sign. Man looks so stable and happy. I hope he had a nice day after this picture!!!
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(by @/fluffydeer21)
Toast and Quest look so content and cute with their flowers. And there's another neat rose with a lil interior pattern! Held, of course, by this artist's fave LI. Xyx looks pretty good with gold jewelry, I cannot lie. I have no idea why I made them green in game. LMFAO
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(by @/noneivly)
I like how this feels like a painting. Like those brush strokes and even the palette choice just look like something you'd see hung on a wall? It's really cool. Also the little detail of the chibi picnic boys in the background makes me giggle. Small!!!!! So fucking small!!!
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(by @/kiki_221)
The energy in this is excellent. You can almost hear them laughing together at Toast's expense (deserved I'm sure). I'd like to imagine they're all relaxing at a park after a big lunch. I hope they got to discuss all the good things that happened to them this week.
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(by @/01noxxie10)
Another excellent chillin in the grass pic! Purple actually looks really good on Quest. I don't think I've ever drawn him in that color before? So this image made me think about that a LOT. Also look at fuckin chill ass xyx. Calm beautiful motherfucker. Fuck you!!! Fuck you!!!
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There's two more images, but those are the discord banner winner and the one I chose for my twitter! If you want to see those excellent drawings, check out my twitter here or join the discord server here!
Thank you everyone for all the submissions! I treasure them deeply!!
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br4tphobia · 1 year
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mothers day . ♱ connie springer
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ details + Wc : 2,9k, Plug bby daddy! Connie x fem! reader, written with black woman in mind, idccc connie tanned !!!, connie being a sweet heart 🥹, connie callin the reader hella petnames, snuck in a lil bit of headcannons here n there!! , uses of baby, ma, mama and more, connie sneakin ina lil jokey joke, you/your pronouns used ! (not proofread, forgive me if u see any spelling mistakes.) NS4W + sex w/ some plot, passionate sex, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, oral (r receiving), breeding kink (ig .), fingering (r receiving) marking, missionary, pussy whipped connie !!, creampie and slight overstimulation .
✧˖*° vals note + this was lowkey ass n short (all of my work is) but hey ,, js a lil sumn thats late for mothers day, love everything yall do for yall children !!
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its mothers day. the day where mothers are appreciated by children for what their mothers have did for them. you and connie have been dating for a while, only have one child, ava. life is perfect as it is and you wouldnt trade anything for it .
“boy what are you planninggg !”
your glossy lips pout dramatically, a blindfold covering your eyes and he guides you by your waist. “jus’ know its for you.” you suck your teeth, “well duh .. since you plannin all this shit, where ava?” “dont worry about allat, she with mikasa.” a exaggerated sigh fell from your lips, eager to see what ever hes gonna show you. “bae you scarin me ..” he leaves a reassuring grip on your waist and plants a kiss on your neck. “nothin to be scared about, now watch yo step. we going up the stairs .” “cant watch my step if im blind folded ~” “exactly why im here.” you cant help but feel yourself warm all over, his hands cupping around your waist, smooth tone of his voice, his audible accent.
when you both make it up the stairs which seems like forever, he removes one hand off your waist to open the door, “keep the blind fold on til i say you can take it off .” a small “ok..” leaves past your tongue, you fidget with your fingers nervously — connie doesnt do surprises like that ; but when he did, it was scary. “igh..take it off.” “papi, can you do it.. im nervous.” a small chuckle erupts from his chest, undoing the tie behind your head — before taking it off “ready, ma?” he questions you. you nod your head as a yes quickly, the darkness covering your vision fades away ; the blind fold dropped. your eyes adjust to the dim light in the room, “happy mothers day.” your eyes immediately widen along with a gasp. rose petals along the floor leading to the bed traced into a heart with red ballons reaching the ceiling with pictures of you, connie and ava hanging at the end. designer bags sitting infront of the pillows. such as Chanel, Louis vuitton and prada.
your eyes swell up at the scene. “you didnt..” holding your head up, trying to prevent those tears that’s threatening to fall. he pulls you into a hug, “i did. i love you and appreciate you for everything you did for this family.” whispering in your ear while he rubs circles on your back. “i-i love you too..thank you.” “save those tears mama, lets see yo gifts.” he grabs your arm and leads you to the bed. he watches you intensely as you smile from joy at the gifts, thats all he wants. to see you happy in life. “con..! i swear you’re too good to me!” your pretty face beaming, holding up the beautiful louis vuitton bag. tracing over the LV monogram logo ever so lightly. “you like it mama?” “i love it, baby, thank you. so so much !” his polished whites shine in your face from your response.
laying with him close after opening your gifts you catch him staring at you, the longer he looked at you, the more he fell in love. hell, even if you both are screaming at each other out of anger. “you ok..?” — “you're so pretty.” he's so confident in what he says you hate it, it always folds you. he's not afraid of thinking he's doing too much for you, flat out treating you like a princess more than he does his baby girl. he grabs your chin before your could respond and presses his lips against yours, you kiss back. your hand snaking up his neck, scratching his nape lightly with your solid baby pink nails. he tilts his head to the side to get more access to your lips, his tongue going past your teeth, tongues swirling around whilst he holds you still with his hand on your neck. lifting you up a bit to help you onto his lap. he groaned into your mouth as he pulled you on top of him, straddling his body. your tongues ran over each other so passionately, pulling away every other second to catch your breath.
he utters sweet compliments between every clash of lips, he always knows what to say to you. your plush thighs sit on his with your back arched, the kiss only getting deeper, his hands slid down to your hips and rocked them back and forth. you feel his hard on bump on your clothed clit causing you to moan, gaining the muscle memory of grinding ontop of him, you pull away from the kiss at the pleasure. “jus’ like that mama..” soft groans were shared through the room together from both mouths. til the point where he was leaking in his own pants he turns you in your back, swiftly scooting down to your thighs. he gave you a look of consent, you nod slightly, lowering the band of your shorts that you’ve been teasing connie with all day. his veiny hands pull both your shorts and underwear down in a swift motion.
you let out a light gasp at the cold air mixing with your hot core, you push your thighs together from the cold. “aht aht.. lemme see that pussy, keep those legs open ma..” his hand slid in-between your thigh and part them together. he licked his lips before diving in. he spat down on your core, slurping it up almost instantly. he runs his tongue over your folds, his nose bumping your clit — sending a shock wave to your pit of your stomach. “mm..con..” honey sweet moan fills his ears, your hand resting on his head whilst yours grip the sheets. placing sloppy kisses on your pussy, this man was eating you out like it was his very last meal of his life. slurping, smacking, and gulping down your slick, he knows he can eat pussy and tales advantage of it. “fuck..i love the way you eat this pussy papi..” your voice is breathy, more moans are formed and exhaled out of your mouth.
you rut your hips against his face, your juices running down his face dripping onto the silk sheets. you love seeing connie like this — hungry for you. the way he groans into your pussy at your taste, having his own make out session with your folds ; tongue fucking you ever so deliciously. "im gonna cum baby.." you roll your head back, waiting for your orgasm. every lick and plunge from his tongue brings you closer to the edge – god, you haven’t felt like this for while since ava was born. Everything starts to feel tingly and intense, he was desperate for you. “cmon.. make a mess on my face, mama.” Muttered through his messy mouth full of your arousal, you see white spots as soon as the pit in your stomach boils over. “mm shit babyy!” clawing at his dyed hair, shaking legs, broken moans, all that just by his mouth.
he made sure not to let a drop spill after pulling away, he charmingly smiles against your cum stained thighs, giving them a peck. “still with me, mama?” “ yea..” your voice is breathy, and rasp. Recovering from you recent orgasm, “ight, lift your arms .” his hands curve to your back as you do as he says. The shirt going over your head and dropping them back to your sides. “can I” he looks you dead, then trailing down to your laced bralette, hinting to take it off . “mhm” is your immediate response, feeling his slim tattooed fingers clip your bra of your chest. your nipples harden to the exposed surface of the air, “you gon lemme suck em ?” he raises a eyebrow, his tone teasing. you smile at his idiotic comment “oh my god.. yes…” connie hums at your quiet response, “yes, con. you can.” not even processing your answer he latches his mouth on your nipple like hes some type of leech. the warm wetness of his mouth soaking your nipple, whilst his other hand massages the other one — you let out quiet whines as hes twisting and pinching on it.
“imma prep you, ok, pretty?” hes slightly inaudible but you can still understand. he sliding his hand down your bare body, curving down to your inner thigh. connie collects the leftover slick and slides his lubricated digits into you. your walls immediately pulse around him index and ring, his thumb reaching to rub your clit. “oh my god..” shallow breathes escape, his long fingers massage the inside of your pussy, scissoring, pumping and curling against ; hitting all the rights spots. “just like that baby, oh fuck..” once he feels like hes gave that boob enough attention he switches, his mouth latching on your right one. you find yourself grinding on his fingers, the pleasure too much where you have to push your sticky thighs together, your nipple leaves his mouth with a ‘pop !’
“what i tell you ?” his tone hinted a warning , “to k-keep my legs open..”
“then do it, todays all about you. so let me make you feel good.”
he continues his actions with his fingers, simultaneously reaching up to give you a kiss. “think — you can ,, take me?” he’d push his fingers out through the kisses as you keep coming back for more, “yes, i need you so bad..” “dont say that, imma nut in my pants, mama” he rolls his eyes in resemblance of you. “boy pleasee” he gives you another smile before pulling his sweat pants down, you stop him. tugging on his shirt “take it off firstt” “ight ight,,” his shirt lifts over his head and thrown unknowingly in the room — his tanned abs on full display for you, god knew what he was doing when creating him cause lord.. hes so fine. “now ,, can i fuck you?” “of course.” he lowers the waistband to his thighs along with his PSD boxers. his tip slaps against his toned stomach with ongoing beads of precum oozing out the pretty brownish pink slit of his tip.
“ready, ma?” he says with a few strokes with his then — then sliding his girth through your folds. nodding another yes, he slides in. the wetness of your pussy squelches as he slids in, pretty tanned cock disappearing into your heat. “shit..” you head rolls back, eyes brows furrowing at the small stretch. “i know, ma..but you can take it..i know it.” his comforting words ease the pain, with his hand stroking your face. within a few moments he pulls out til the tip is only left inside you. “you think you can take me?” “yea..” “tell me if its too much.” whispering low, but loud enough for you to hear. he’d raise your leg on his shoulder and push back into you, sliding in and back out. making sure his rhythm wasn’t too slow or fast — from watching your facial expressions and body language, he kept his pace,
"mm.. fuck.." moaning softly, he could listen to your sounds every morning, evening, and night. "thats it mama.. " he lowers his head to the level of your neck, nibble and sucking on your bare skin. visible bite marks and hickeys grew one by one, connie loves marking you. he wants to know youre his, he loves you and wants to be there for you at all times. even when you both are on bad terms. the way his shaft disappears into every-time he rocks back into you. pushing out moans more and more, “look at you.. takin this dick so pretty..” he groaned at the feeling of your getting wetter at his choice of words. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him inches closer than what he already was to collide his lips with yours. tongues tangling beautifully together, moans, groans , and whimpers where the only thing shared along the soft skin clapping.
pulling away from his intoxicating lips, to catch your breath. he moves back down to your hickey, covered neck to add more. whispering how good it is against your neck “fuckk i miss this pussy..” — “got me wantin to nut already..” “mm..” whimpering as he brushes his tip against your cervix again. he angles his hips at certain directions to find your spot, watching your body language once again. His finger tips grazing over your beautiful curves while thrusting into you so sensually as hes laying kisses on your neck. "fuck papi.. faster.." your body squirms at neediness, just for him to obey your request — snapping his hips quicker then before, not too fast nor slow, hed do anything just to make sure you were pleased, in and out of bed! he loves you too much to leave you unsatisfied. “mm shitt !” you breath hitches on how deep he got, bumping places inside you that you couldnt reach with your own fingers, he watches your boobs bounce at the rhythm of his strokes as you grip on once tightly, those plump lips slightly agape to release moans, the crease between your hips and thighs from having your legs on his shoulders.
another moan came from you lips, the volume of them getting louder as he hits your g spot. “right here, ma?” he softly puts his hand over the small bulge re-appearing every other thrust, “y—yes! don’t stop baby.. fuck im g’na cum..” oh, he most definetily wont stop. your back arches from the pleasure, scratching on Connie’s back for some type of stability, leaving scratch marks he would definitely admire in the morning. “cum, mama. nut on this dick.” more thrusts, clit stroking, and groping away from your second orgasm. connie loves how whiney you get before you cum, your high pitched moans and whimpers is the most euphoric thing to hear from you, letting him know that you feel good. “baby..baby im cu—" cut off by a silent moan, his strokes get deeper then — what you thought — he possibly could get. gushing over his length, a white ring forming on it.
"fuuck.." he slows down to prevent himself from cumming too soon, but still allowing you to ride out your orgasm. your voice is quiet mumbling "oh baby"s, your pretty face relaxed with your lips shaped into an O. "feels so.. — fuckin good.." his voice is pitched, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, still continuing his intoxicating thrust which feels like light shocks from being overstimulated. he looks down to admire your facial features, he cant get enough of you, not even if he tried. "you like that? this dick fuckin you deep?" his voice is slightly hoarse, "yesyes mmhpp" you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your sounds, not wanting to get louder. "let me hear you." , he grabs your hand and places it your tummy buldge.
"i-im sorry... ohmygodd.. you fuckin me so good, papi.." your wet sounds from your previous orgasms leaving his lower stomcach sticky. "shit..gonna cum mama.." cant help but feel embarassed from being close too soon, but you dont care. you also want him to feel as good as you do. "fill t-this pussy up.." his cock twitching inside your silk walls, “yeah? tell me how much you want it.” thats one thing he loves, seeing you plead for anything from him, probably one of his biggest turn-ons. “so bad baby.. mhpp! make me a mom of two..” Thats all connie hears, two. "thats what i like to hear, mama.." his pace picks up, "s-shit baby..fuck im cumming.."
his breathing quickens before he lets out a drawn out groan of your name followed by a few other thrusts. letting out whimpers at his thick seed sitting inside you before dripping onto the sheets. soon he pulled out, watching in awe whilst trying to catch his breath. "jus’ wait til fathers day. imma make it up to you." refering to everything hes did for you today, "lookin forward to it, catch yo breath. i ain done." "wha..?" "you head me, imma make sure you a mother of two."
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