The outfits for the April Fools units just being recolors ticked me off so I made my own with the power of photo editing and dress-up mode, under the cut :D
Since the main difference in Leo/need's outfits beyond the colors is their jackets and bows, I figured the same would apply to Aoharu/friends. Airi's is sleeveless like an idol's outfit, and Ena's is closed so she doesn't get paint and such on her shirt while doing art. Airi wears her ties as bows in her hair, and Ena's is a bow to emphasize cuteness and such.
Even though MORE MORE JUMP's standard outfits are already quite uniform, I wanted to give YUME YUME JUMP's more personalized traits, not only the ones shown in their live2ds but also Shiho's shorts and socks, An's knee socks and fingerless gloves, and Kanade's undershirt and leggings. The group also all wear flowers in their hair, An no longer having the stars in her hair due to no longer being a street musician, and Kanade's being attached to headphones to both help with her composing and so she isn't overwhelmed by noise and such as an idol.
I wanted to give Tsukasa and Rui more street musician-esque outfits and hairstyles, thus their anniversary hairstyles are used with Tsukasa wearing Len's No seek No find outfit and Rui wearing Akito's Find A Way Out one. Not much to say here, I just wanted Tsukasa and Toya to have matching necklaces and for Rui to still look whimsical whilst being a street musician.
I feel like Happiness Sentai Sunny-Sunny Wonder☆ have the best outfits of the five (seeing as, you know, they're not all the same thing), but I wanted to try and give them outfits that emphasize both their "ranger" concept and their stage names (Sunny-Sunny Happy Emu, Goodness/Darkness Smile Mafuyu, Stoic Challenger Haruka, Makeover Beast Kohane).
"That's just Painful Hope Haruka" shhhh shhh shush
I'm not sure why, but I feel like decora fits Fellow Hobbyists on Days Off a lot, at least going off of their Venom 2DMV, they just deserve to be pink and mildly over the top and somewhat edgy and yay.
13 notes
·
View notes
Snippet Saturday—Where The Dead Forget Chapter 8
I’ve been banging away at this chapter for the last month or so, but it’s another doozy so I’m thinking it’ll take at least another month or so before it’s finally ready. In the meantime, here is the first 1k in somewhat decent condition. Something a bit light-hearted for once!
It was summer when Achilles and Patroclus left Mount Pelion and returned home to Phthia, well before the cold season. Their homecoming had been planned just a few days out from Achilles’ next birthday. It was to be particularly auspicious that year, for it was the one in which he would come of age, and at last be named a man. Those intermittent days therefore were ones of transition, as the two of them re-acclimated to palace life after their idyllic, isolated lifestyle on the mountain.
The morning on the eve of Achilles’ birthday found them in bed together, listening to the ambience of the ocean that they had long missed, the sound drifting into the airless room on a cool breeze from the window. Their bodies were joined in a careless tangle of limbs, still slick with sweat and heavy with warmth after lovemaking. Achilles’ face was buried in the hollow of Patroclus’ throat—he hummed softly as Patroclus cradled the back of his head, stroking him gently.
“The sun is rising higher and growing hot,” Patroclus remarked. “It will make drills miserable if we tarry much longer.”
His skin was beaded with moisture, but Achilles made no effort to move away—instead nestling closer into his heat, the smell of him, his beating pulse, all around him.
“Then perhaps we ought to forego them just for today,” he said. “I could not possibly move from this spot—not even if Lord Poseidon himself were to open up a fissure underneath the palace right at this moment and bring it all crashing down.”
Patroclus’ laugh rumbled against Achilles’ ear. He lifted Achilles’ head, bringing their faces close, and the sound muffled against Achilles’ lips. There was a fond lilt even in his reproach:
“What is this? Of all the things in the entire world, I did not think it were possible for my Achilles to forsake something so important as his drills.”
Achilles only clung tighter to Patroclus in response, so that he could not pull away from him—though Patroclus did not bother to try.
“Oh, can I not have a lie-in, just this once? I will be a man grown in one day’s time… I should be allowed to indulge in the careless leisure of boyhood one last time. The only spear I wish to practice with today is this one.” Achilles slipped a mischievous hand down in between Patroclus’ thighs. His companion gasped softly, and then chuckled, pressing his own hand against Achilles’, so that he might stay his movements.
“Have mercy, please,” he crooned, playfully beseeching. “I cannot hope to keep up with appetites blessed by divinity. At least give us a few more minutes of rest.”
“You would not stop me, then? I thought you would be displeased by your lazy prince.”
Patroclus extracted Achilles’ hand, placing it instead onto a jutting hipbone at his side. He pressed their hips against one another, their bodies now fully flush. Then, wrapping his arms around Achilles, it felt as though there wasn’t any one part of them that wasn’t touching. Achilles shivered at the feeling, despite the shared heat between them.
“Your entire existence is a continuous blessing,” Patroclus murmured into his mouth. “There is nothing that you could ever do that would possibly displease me.”
Some time later, when their growling stomachs became too insistent to ignore and at last roused them from bed, Achilles and Patroclus were passing through a corridor when they encountered Master Phoinix. The old man seemed in a hurry, rounding a corner with some speed and a sense of purpose. He stopped suddenly upon spotting the boys.
“Ah, there you are,” he said. “We did not see you at breakfast, and so your father began to wonder where you had gone off to. I had just been sent to go fetch you.”
“What does my father want?” Achilles asked.
“He has received tidings that he wishes to share with you both. He waits for you now.”
Master Phoinix turned around and began striding back in the direction he came; the boys follow him. After a moment, he turned his head around to look askance at them, and his steps slowed so that he could walk alongside them.
“Why Patroclus,” the old man said with a paternal air. “You appear rather out of sorts. Are you well?”
The question caused Patroclus’ still tinted colors to deepen. As if paranoid he had forgotten himself, he hastily smoothed down his tunic, checking the fastenings, and combed his fingers through his hair.
“Yes, sir,” he answered stiffly as he fussed.
Master Phoinix did not appear to be satisfied by this. He eyed Achilles sternly.
“Has Achilles been taking you along with him for early spear practice again?” When the boys did not answer, he sighed, taking their bemused silence for a tacit confession.
“I know the two of you are still accustomed to the solitude of Mount Pelion and the careful supervision of Master Chiron… but surely there is a good reason your mother did not wish for others to watch you fight, let alone face against you, Achilles. Your father defied her will and made an exception for Patroclus because he is your companion, but still you must remember to use restraint and not overextend him so. Is that understood?”
“I do not think you have to worry about it, sir. Patroclus enjoys it.”
Patroclus made a quiet, strained sound next to him. Achilles bowed his head with rueful affect, not daring to look at either Master Phoinix or Patroclus in the eye, and give away his composure.
“Well, be that as it may,” said Phoinix, finding nothing amiss. “I should not like to see him swept up in your schemes, if you please. He has a tendency to do so to his own detriment.”
“Yes, sir,” Achilles replied solemnly.
“Very well, then. Trust that I do not say this to wound anyone’s pride… I am simply an old and fussy caretaker, after all.” They reached the doors to King Peleus’ audience chamber, and he opened it, stepping aside to allow Achilles and Patroclus to pass through first. “Go on, then.”
11 notes
·
View notes