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mattsdae · 8 months

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help wanted part 4

read part 1, part 2, and part 3

tags: joe young x masc reader , leather/latex , frotting , making out , nipple play (?) , reader likes joe’s tits but can we really blame him , gambling ig , honestly not a lot happens , mostly fluff and plot shit

synopsis: joe looks good in his new costume, but reader feels like he’s being… watched.

word count: ~5.4k

a/n: sorry for the long wait! hopefully this is at least a little worth the 3 weeks with zero updates lol also i’m using readers forgetfulness to my advantage cuz idk any of the side characters names so i just wrote that reader doesn’t know anyones names.

joe was asleep by the time the lion king ended. turns out, crying your eyes out for the entire morning was tiring, so he took a little nap. the only issue was that he fell asleep on your shoulder. he was worried about you, so he got nice and close, cuddling up and falling asleep.

you had to sit through his nap, which sucked since the remote was out of reach and you couldn’t put another movie on. you sat still, listening to his little snores as he clung onto your arm. you let boredom (and comfort) take over, falling asleep with him on the couch.

you woke up a few hours later, curled up with a blanket over you. at first, you didn’t question it, rolling over and pulling the sheet up to your chin. it took a second, but you suddenly remembered joe. you popped up, looking over the living and dining room. you looked at the coffee table, finding a handwritten note.

Y/N,

you fell asleep, so i decided to go. i rewinded the tape for you! i had a lot of fun. we should do this more often!

joseph young

you didn’t realize, but you smiled as you read the note. he had nice handwriting, simple but neat cursive that was still easily legible. he put a proper signature at the bottom as if it were a legal document, which only made you smile more. it was endearing to say the least. you kept the note, putting it in your bedside table drawer.

as you tidied up the tapes, you started to make up excuses in your head for what happened. it wasn’t like it was a date or anything. all you did was watch movies, it wasn’t a big deal. even though it ended with his head on your shoulder, so what? you could excuse all of it. you decided to ignore the dry humping and the fact that you came to the thought of loving him.

later that day, you got a call from dave talking about another orgazmo film you were going to do lighting for. you agreed a little too quick before catching the date and time. now, it was that date and time. you were talking to one of the prop designers, leaned up against the wall outside as you smoked a cigarette.

“honestly, i don’t get it, but maxxx asked for it so here i am.” he took a drag from his own cigarette. like most people on set, you didn’t know his name. people come and go pretty often, so you learned to tune out any names. it’s gotten to the point now that you can’t remember who anyone is, even if they’ve stayed around for months. usually, it gets to the point where it’s too awkward to ask.

“so is it supposed to be sexy? the whole orgasm-inator thing or whatever it’s called?” he shrugged with a smile.

“maxxx is into some weird shit, dude. i wouldn’t put it past him.” you nodded, smiling as you remembered multiple examples of his weird fetishes.

“y/n! need you in here!” dave called out. you answered before putting your cigarette out and going inside.

“what do you need-“

you cut yourself off, staring at joe as he spoke to the costume designer. he was wearing a new outfit, one made of latex or possibly leather. either way, it was tight fitting and shiny, hugging every inch of him perfectly. his shoulders and arms were exposed, which weirdly turned you on more than anything. you’d seen his dick, yeah, but never his bare arms.

he was muscular, much stronger than his loose button ups and long sleeves showed. his chest hair poked over the material, bringing attention to his expose collarbones. you felt insane, getting worked up over something like arms and collarbones. like an early englishman calling women harlot’s for exposing their ankle.

“you good?” you blinked, brought back to reality as dave snapped his fingers in front of you. your face heated, quickly adjusting yourself for no particular reason. “i just need you to set another umbrella by the couch.”

you nod, quickly getting to work to avoid any more suspicious. just as you tightened the knob, locking the angle in place, joe walked up.

“hey!” he grinned. you smile subconsciously.

“hey..” you hummed. you blushed, realizing you deepened your voice like a middle schooler trying to impress his crush. he giggled.

“why does your voice sound like that?” his eyes twinkled, a large grin on his face as he asked. you almost smiled just looking at him, but you stopped yourself.

“uhh, i’m a little sick.” you committed, keeping your voice weirdly raspy and deep. you felt your face warm up as you heard someone nearby huff out a small laugh.

“oh, really? are you okay?” his eyes widened, concerned. you shook your head, turning away to mess with the already set up light.

“yeah, i’m fine.” you turned away, squatting down in attempt to end the conversation. he put his hand on your shoulder.

“are you sure? you need to get some rest if you don’t feel well.” you shook your head, avoiding looking at him in case you spaced out again.

“i’m fine, joe. i promise.” your voice faultered. finally, you looked up at him. he always had a pout, a small downturn of his lips that only got more exaggerated with strong emotions like worry. you kept eye contact, refusing to look anywhere else.

“okay..” he leaned back. you went back to your job of acting busy, only for him to stay put. “did you see my new costume? it’s a little weird, right?”

“yeah, i saw it.” of coarse you saw it, it was the first thing you witnessed when you opened the door and yeah, it was weird. that’s why you were so freaked out about being turned on by it. “it looks good.”

“really? it’s a little.. tight.” you didn’t look, but you heard his hand run over the costume, likely trying to point out where it was tight. you refused to look, knowing what would happen if you did.

“i think it looks fine, man.” you keep your gaze away. he says a small hmph before walking away. you kept doing your work, finishing whatever dave asked you to do. eventually, you had a break and went outside for another smoke.

you heard the backdoor open slowly and shut just the same. you knew who it was, you didn’t even have to look. you felt joe walk closer, stopping a few feet away. you glance, catching a look at his costume in broad daylight. it looked just as hot as it did inside.

“are you okay?” joe asked. you nod.

“yeah. why?”

“you just.. you’re acting weird. ever since we kissed, you’ve been avoiding me and you didn’t even look at me when i was talking to you earlier..” you kept your head down, unable to say what was so clearly on your mind. “are you mad at me?”

“no! of coarse not! i just.. i dunno. i’m just not my normal self right now, you know?” he nods. he crossed his arms, subconsciously covering himself. “i think the costume looks great. sorry for not saying it earlier.”

“you think so?” he lit up, now smiling.

“yeah. you look really nice. can i say something? and promise you won’t laugh.” he agreed. “i wasn’t looking at you ‘cause i was worried i’d get hard.” you heard shuffling above you, but you decided to ignore it.

“really?” he beamed, clearly excited by the fact that you found him sexy. you nod. “i didn’t know people were into this stuff.. so you like this?”

the truth was, it wasn’t the outfit that turned you on; it was his body. the way it hugged every little curve perfectly and showed off parts of his body you never thought to notice. it showed how strong and sturdy his body is, contrasting his sweet gaze. it was whiplash, switching between eye contact to checking his body, going from an innocent little mormon boy to a strong man.

“yeah, i guess i do.” that was an easier answer. he nods, looking away. you flick your cigarette, glancing over his body again. “can i touch you?”

“hm?” you didn’t even mean for the question to come out, but with it now floating in the air, you committed.

“can i touch you? i think you look really nice and i.. i want to feel it.” you chewed on your lip as you waited for an answer. you glanced up above you, noticing the suspicious open window directly above the two of you. he looked around before taking your hand and leading you inside. as you two walked through the door, everyone looked before quickly averting their gaze. you blushed, narrowing your eyes as the entire crew acted busy while joe dragged you up the stairs and into a makeshift dressing room, which was just a bedroom with only a futon and different clothes hung up.

“where do you want to touch?” he asked, shutting the door behind you and locking. you glanced down his body, struggling to choose. deciding against answering, you instead responded by kissing him, pulling him close by the back of his neck and leading him to the futon.

as joe sat, you straddled him, legs planting on either side and holding him still. his hands moved to your waist, holding you as well. while his thumb rubbed circles onto your hip, you explored. your palms, sweaty from anxiety, squeaked over the material. he hummed.

“you look so good, baby..” he huffed as you felt over his chest, brushing over his nipples. “just can’t get enough of you, can i?”

he nods in agreement, unaware of the subtext. a subtle confession. you circle your hips, slowly grinding against him as he did before. he whined, fingers digging into your sides. you pull back from the kiss, glancing over him. his face was pink, rosy cheeks matching his flushed chest. his forearms tensed as he moved your hips himself, frustrated by your recess.

“you’re just too much.” another quick confession that could be covered up. you tried to stay professional, avoiding any hint of your true feelings, but you weren’t sure joe would notice if you were being obvious.

one of your hands wandered to his face, holding his jaw and cheek before returning to the kiss. it felt just as intimate and experimental as the first time. joe gripped your hips, still pushing and pulling. your brushed his nipple again, making him whimper. you pull away, looking at him.

“can i touch you here? is it okay?” you gave a little pinch to make the message a little clearer. he whines, nodding. you closed the gap, hand moving away from his jaw and to the straps of his costume. you slowly undressed him, studying how every touch felt. his arm lifted, letting you take it off. his skin was smooth, gentle and soft in contrast with the muscles underneath.

you removed the other strap, moving it low enough to expose his chest. you nearly drooled at the sight. the shock made you realize how little you’ve seen of him. even though you’ve seen his most private area, you still didn’t get the privilege to see the rest of him. his shoulders tensed, shy under your gaze.

“you look so pretty,” you hum. he nods, reassured. considering you were ‘straight’ only a month ago, you were shocked by how infatuated you were. his chest flushed, rising and falling slowly as he looked over you at the same time. his hands moved under your shirt, exploring your skin. you buried your face in his neck, moaning into his flesh as he massaged. you kissed, licking over the muscle and causing him to squirm.

“off..” he mumbled, pulling at your shirt. you pull back and he lets go of the material. you chuckle, leading his hands back to the hem.

“if you want it off, you gotta take it off.” he makes eye contact, expression nervous and seeking approval. you nod. he lifts the shirt over your head and looks at your abdomen. he stares.

“you’re skinny.” you start to laugh, which makes him shy. “no, i didn’t- you’re shirt..”

“it’s fine, baby.” he’d never seen you with a shirt or pants that actually fit, usually 2 or 3 sizes too big. he was confused by it, you could tell by the fact that he offered to give you extra shirts he had that would fit better when you first met him. his hands found their way to your waist. he squeezed, making you squirm and giggle.

“you’re ticklish?” he grinned. you shook your head, straightening your expression and pushing his hands off.

“nah, man. i’m not-“ he grabbed at your sides again. you whined, trying to wiggle away as one of his arms wrapped around your hip and held you still. you pushed against his chest as he smiled up at you. he let go after a few seconds.

“you’re such a liar!” he giggled as you complained. you felt a twinge in your chest, guilt burning for just a moment before he kissed you again, cutting off your rambling. a small smile formed, melting into his touch as he started to unbutton your jeans. your hands hovered over his, waiting for him to go for your sides again, but he was far too focused on what was in your pants.

you reached for his chest again, making him whine as he touched your cock over your boxers. he was gentle, almost scared to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. you grind into his hand with a moan, confirmation to keep going. you stayed attached to his chest, circling his areola. he shivered, bringing a smile to your face.

“you sensitive there?” you teased. he nodded, head kept low as he moaned. he touched you the same way you did him, trying to mimick each move in the same order. his thumb rubbed just under the tip, you moaning in response. “come on, baby. touch me. please?”

he obeys, sliding your boxers low enough to expose you to him. he stared for a few seconds, watching as you twitched in his palm. you whined, pinching his nipple to make him move. he moaned, his cock now twitching from within his suit.

“why don’t you touch yourself, too?” you suggested. he glanced up as you took a hold of his hand, tracing over each indent on his palm. “you got big hands, i’m sure you can hold both at the same time.”

he nods, also pulling his pants just low enough to expose himself. you bit your lip at the sight, watching him pull your hips closer. he hooked his thumb onto his cock before taking a hold of yours, pressing them together. you moan as he moves his hand slowly. he nodded, taking your moan as verbal encouragement and quickly jerking both of you off.

your hips bucked, thrusting into his fist every so often as you fondled his chest. you buried your face in his neck, licking the skin before attaching your lips. he moaned, his free hand grabbing onto your bicep. you pinched again.

“there.. just like that.” you moan into his mouth, mumbling praises as he sped up, desperation taking over sensuality. you whined as he moved away from your lips, pressing his face into your shoulder. he moaned rythmically, just as you did. you lifted his chin, pushing his head back before dipping down.

he gasped when you licked over his nipple, teeth grazing over it as he grabbed onto your hair. he twitched, the jump made evident by your touching cocks. you moaned as well, the brief friction taking you by suprise. you suckled on his breast, just like you did to girls. he whined as you did so, unable to decide between watching and throwing his head back in pleasure.

“i’m.. i think i’m close-“ joe whined, gripping harder as he did the same to your cocks, desperately moving up and down. you moan at the admission.

“you think you can wait for me?” he nearly wailed, making you smile against his chest.

“pleaseee..”

“kiss me. i’ll cum faster if you kiss me.” he quickly grabbed onto your hair, pulling you up and pressing his lips to yours. you melted, openly moaning into his mouth as you throbbed within his grip. he kept pulling, remembering how much you loved it before. he took advantage of it, yanking at your locks passionately.

before you knew it, you were cumming all over your own bare chest and his latex costume. he moaned as you did, rushing to catch up and cum at the same time. he succeeded, pulling your hair one last time as his hips stuttered against his own fist. it was overwhelming. his hand in your hair, fist squeezing your cocks together as it moved, his lips against yours. it was all too much.

you whined, softening in his grip as he slowly lets go. he whimpered, too. your cocks lazily pressed together, just barely overstimulating both of you. you finally pull away, ending the kiss. he looked up at you, pupils blown and eyes wide.

“what?” you ask, wondering why he looked at you that way. his expression didn’t change as his eyes flicked between each of your features.

“i know you’re a boy but..” he trails off. his hand reached up to your face, his thumb running over each of his favorite features. he parted your lips, noting their reddish hue after kissing, before caressing your cheeks while looking into your eyes. it was intimate, letting someone caress your face while pointing out their favorite features with each touch. you flushed under his gaze. “you’re pretty.”

“you think so?” you didn’t mean to ask the question, it slipping out before you could catch it. you voice was soft, barely above a whisper. he nods. you felt hot, heat suddenly overwhelming you as he looked away from your eyes and studied your features ahain. there’s a moment where both of you watch eachother, you being too scared to even think about what he meant. eventually, you pulled apart and cleaned up.

filming felt awkward now. for some reason, it felt like everyone was watching you. filming ended and while joe usually left soon after wrapping, he stayed behind, waiting for you to leave. at first, you didn’t understand why he’d stay, but he quickly made it clear as he made conversation.

“i’m hungry. do you want to get something after you’re done? my treat!” he smiled at you. you agree absentmindedly. “can we get mcdonalds? i heard the big mac’s good!”

“you heard?” you chuckle as he confirms. “so you’ve never been to mcdonalds?”

“no. my mom always cooked for us ‘cause that’s what a woman is supposed to do.” you grimace.

“you know, women can do other things, right?”

“yeah, but that’s what my mom and dad always said.” you decide to leave it there, too tired to explain feminism to him. you were frustrated anyway, considering you were left alone to clean up all by yourself. you assumed most of the actors left, but the film crew should be helping disassemble everything. you knew the lazy assholes maxxx hired as help usually fucked off and waited for you to finish, but at least dave would help. even he was nowhere to be seen.

joe stayed behind as you did a final sweep to make sure everything was reset. you found one of the doors shut and a distant rumble of voices behind it, a suspicious sight considering you assumed everyone was gone. you opened, slowly poking your head in and finding the entire crew, actors included, standing around yelling at eachother.

“no, dude! did you see the way they were looking at eachother? they’re totally fucking!” a voice called back, continuing a conversation you missed the first half of.

“man’s looks in love! they’re totally dating!” a girl spoke up.

“why not both? you’re acting like it’s one or the other!” you stepped in, shutting the door behind you as you entered.

“i swear! they were flirting outside and y/n was complimenting him!” you furrowed your brow, just barely recognizing your name in the sea of words.

“i just don’t see him as the type.. i mean he doesn’t even look gay. also, didn’t he fuck ava?”

“he probably likes both, dude. dave likes guys and girls, too.”

“he’ll fuck anything as long as it has a pulse. either way, joe’s the queer one of the two.” joe? why were they talking about him? you glared at the man who said it, who quickly realized you were listening in and stopped talking.

“what’s going on?” you asked slowly, watching as a few people held their hands behing their back. you stepped forward, looking at the producer, who turned with you to avoid showing his backside. “what are you holding?”

“uhhh…” you grabbed for his wrist, making a 100 dollar bill fall to the ground. you paused, staring at the cash as some people snuck out of the room. “why are you holding that?”

“y/n, it’s fine.” dave spoke up, directing your attention towards him. he was sat at a fold up table, a shoebox next to him along with a clipboard with multiple columns and rows. “it’s just a friendly little bet. gotta keep morale up, right?”

“what’s the bet?” at this point, the room was almost fully empty as everyone escaped. you and dave stared at eachother, him smiling innocently. he looked away for a second, fiddling with the corner of the paper.

“i just want to preface by saying, i didn’t tell anyone anything.” you furrowed your brow, only getting more confused. he slid over the clipboard. on the paper, you four columns, each labeled.

not gay | fucking | dating | both.

the worst part was, fucking was the most betted. you stared, mouth agape. “everyone saw you eyeing up joe the last couple of times you worked together, so when people started talking, i told them to put their money where their mouth is. most people thought you just had a fat crush on joe, but lily said she saw you guys flirting outside, which kinda skewed the vote.. everyone wanted to change their votes, but rules are rules. they know they can’t-“

“you’re fucking with me, right?” he paused before shaking his head. “how long has this been going on?!”

“yeah, well, people noticed how you changed your shirt in the middle of filming and how you stared at him. not to mention the fact that he’s waiting for you to finish putting everything away so you could go out. there’s actually a lot of proof. he keeps dragging you off into his dressing room, you spaced out when you first saw him in that costume..”

you stared in disbelief, unable to even find an excuse. everyone was watching. everyone knew you liked him and everyone assumed he liked you. you felt sick. the idea of the entire crew and a legion of pornstars betting on yours and joe’s queerness made you ill.

“obviously, i’m the bookie because it’d be cheating for me to vote since.. you know.” you cringed. “but it’s all for fun! i promise there isn’t any malicious intent.”

“you’re making a bet off of me and joe being gay, that sounds pretty malicious.” dave shrugged.

“it’s not out of ill-will. it’s just a fun bet-“

“about me and joe being gay?”

“yes!” you scoff, grabbing onto your hair and groaning.

“you have to call it off, dude. if joe finds out-“

“he’s not gonna find out-“

“if joe finds out,” you emphasize. “he’s gonna freak out.”

“how do you know? he seems pretty into you. he probably thinks you guys are already dating.” you rolled your eyes at the assumption.

“joe just got ex-communicated. if he finds out that what we’re doing is gay..” dave laughed, a large grin spreading as he held onto his chest.

“what? he really believes that bullshit you spew about just being friends?!” you glared, ready to argue back before he interrupted. “i know you think you know joe well, but be honest with yourself. you barely know the dude outside of sex, how would you know how he feels about being gay. did he ever mention the idea of being gay as a bad thing?”

you stayed quiet, realizing that no, he hadn’t said being gay is a bad thing. even when he questioned it, he never said it was wrong. he called it a sin once, but he easily could have meant masturbation. you looked away.

“maybe try talking to him. you know, not about how hot he looks in latex.” you flushed. “ava said you two were gonna go out to get something to eat, so you got the perfect opportunity. bring him to mcdonalds, get him some shitty nuggets and a big mac, large fry too, and ask him about himself. spend some time together. actually do something that doesn’t involve sex.”

you glared, genuinely angry at dave for assuming what you knew about joe. you hands trembled a bit before you huffed and walked off. you stormed down the stairs and found joe, sat cross-legged on the ground, poking around at some of the cameras. he jumped back when he saw you, quickly putting it back into place.

“oh, hey! did you see everyone? i thought they all left and they came down the steps, but they were acting all weird. did you talk to th-“

“let’s go.” you grabbed his hand, practically dragging him towards your car. “what do you want from mcdonalds? you said a big mac, right?”

“oh, uhhh.. i heard the nuggets are good-“

“whatever you want. you can get nuggets, a burger, a fuckin’ mcrib, i don’t care. it’s on me.” joe nods, following quickly as you opened the car door for him. he thanks you and you quickly get in on the other side, rushing to the nearest mcdonalds.

there was a few minutes of silence, you too angry to start speaking and him feeling the rage radiating off of you. you tried to think of an ice breaker. it was awkward, realizing that dave was right. you didn’t know anything about joe. you knew what he looked like and where he liked to be touched, but nothing personal. you cleared your throat.

“so.. tell me about yourself.”

he did. he talked about his childhood, being a middle child with 5 siblings. he talked about his mom, how she loved cooking and he always wanted to help, but she’d shoo him off and say it was a womans job. he talked about being mormon, what growing up was like within the mormon faith, he even mentioned a girl he was supposed to marry before they broke up. he also talked about what he liked and what he wanted to do. turns out, he always thought video games were cool, which started a conversation about your playstation and the games you had.

you got several things from mcdonalds, creating a buffet for the two of you when you got back to your place. you showed him the games you talked about and taught him how to play tony hawk’s pro skater 2. he loved it and you did too. both of you fell asleep on the couch, him laying on your chest while you played, mumbling to him about techniques, even though he was clearly unconscious. the next day, you hung out some more. you made breakfast together, went out to the mall together, got lunch together. it was amazing and by the end of the day, joe stood awkwardly outside your car door, fingers twiddling.

“so.. i’ll see you again, right?” you nod. he looks down. you took what dave said to heart, refusing to have sex with him during your time spent. you were sure that’s what he was thinking about. he had fun, but the one thing you two were comfortable doing was excluded.

“if you want to come by, just let me know. i had fun.” joe nods. there’s a moment of silence, only the crickets chirping making noise. he circles your car, going to the driver side. you roll down the window. “what are you-“

he kissed you. a quick peck like a couple would do before parting. he pulled away, taking in your features for a split second before rushing to his car and leaving. you flushed. maybe he did like you.

27 notes · View notes

hosannan · 5 months

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She had thanked him, once, and he'd not any idea of who she was. It had been strange, that dissonant sensation of meaning more to someone than they did to you, to exist peripherally as a character in a fairy tale, rather than the flesh and blood man.

But as she arrived into the hall, following her uncle, her mother, trailing along the rest of her family, Sigurd understood that that sensation was merely temporary – they were disconnected by time and circumstance, but they were family, all the same.

"Young Nanna! It is Nanna, is it not? Princess?" He winked at her, and stooped to pull her into a warm embrace. His eyes creased, glittering as he pulled back to look at her fully. "Please, be most welcome, you are kin – not just as Jugdrali, but of the heart. We will get to know one another in time. Here, first - !"

He scooped from a table containing goodie bags, and placed one into her hands. The bag is of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If she were tempted to peek inside, they would find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

"Enjoy the party. Please, come to me with anything you need."

"Lord Sigurd! Yes, I--" Her gasp could have rattled half the porcelain bowls on the table, as she rose a dainty hand over her mouth. She was caught off guard with the address, wondering if he was teasing her. Giving her a moment to catch herself, Nanna gave a hearty laugh, like that of budding roses. "Young Nanna, Princess Nanna, or Just Nanna, at your service, my lord."

She fanned out her skirt in a curtsy, the laughter never leaving her eyes. "Truly? It's an honor to be in your company, let alone in your heart, sire. Hahaha!"

"Oh!" The velvet drawstring bag rested sweetly in her palms, running warmth up to her chest. Oh, how she loved this time of year. Her gaze softened, as she clasped it loosely against her heart. "Thank you..."

"And this is for you—" She felt a little shy, fingers gently clasping at a small, handwritten letter in her rucksack. She toyed with it for a moment, twiddling its corners to will herself to hand it to him. Had it been folded? Was her handwriting legible? Her wax seal marked the back with a gold 'N' inscribed in flowers. Paired with it was a sea blue package with a pocket watch inside, of the same rich color.

She beamed.

"May the holidays bring you only warmth and laughter, Lord Sigurd."

In lovely, blooming cursive was the following:

Happy Holidays, Lord Sigurd! The snow leads me down sunken roads, where many merchants in deep green smocks wrap their stalls in cured hide and glass baubles. The colored glass seems to frost over in the cold, and I think it's a sign for the year to meet its natural end. I think resting on the precipice between the end and the beginning is beautiful. It really calls to mind how far we've managed to come, and how far it takes for anyone to truly live their life to the fullest. I hope this letter doesn't take you aback; it's abrupt, yes, but I think there's something magical about writing that allows you to open a window into your heart. And once you look into that window, you'll realize that this is all entirely new to me. Lord Leif and I celebrated the holidays in Fiana, but living on humbler means meant a holiday of the same caliber. I've heard of stories from my father, of the grand holidays held in castles, and the long, sweeping tables filled with gifts and food galore. I've heard of the candles and ivy-lined walls, of the tinsel and velvet. And I've heard about you, of course. But there's nothing like experiencing it for yourself. I suppose it's nothing like living history. It's living life. And I've got you to thank for that. With great regard, Princess Nanna of Nordion

#{ thank you for the 🥜 sir sigurd!!!!! (wholesome nanna vc)#{ all jokes aside this was genuinely so sweet thank you tches I love Sigurd 🥺#{ “i'm going to make this short” how wrong i was #bxldrsdraumar

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ignitesthestxrs · 3 months

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oh i actually liked that the darkling came back even though that entire thing was so silly purely because of the pov chapters lol. like leigh could have released the pov chapters she wrote but she didn't so this is the only time we directly get into his head. with being inside nikolai's head it would have been him manipulating someone again. in the original trilogy it was alina, now nikolai, but i was interested in seeing how he rationalises his own actions.

i also don't think it was darkling worshippy? it was made very clear imo that his actions were cruel, their effects were shown.

yeah if that's what you're into then like, i am glad you got that! for me, i didn't need or want the darkling to be a main character, and his rationalizations and perspective were pretty legible from the original trilogy. exploring the darkling's character was a large part of what i spent my time doing as a fandom creative, so i wasn't looking for that particular hole to be filled by the author.

what i wanted from the canon series was narrative satisfaction, not More Of My Favourite Guy. i think that if you kill a character off you need to have a really, deeply compelling narrative for bringing that character back, or else it undercuts the emotional weight and meaning of having killed him in the first place. some things i just think are better suited for fandom than canon.

re: your second point, i did not mean that the book was worshipping the darkling, i mean that it was pandering to the fans who wanted to see more of the character of the darkling without consideration to the narrative impact that had on the story over all. the way he was brought back was lazy and uninteresting, even if he is an interesting guy to have on the page. i don't think that the author was like Morally Supporting Him or making a case for him Being A Good Guy by bringing him back.

i think that when you kill a character off, get yelled about at about it for four or five years, and then bringing him back with a half assed bee lady who is obsessed with him, what you are saying with your work is 'here you go lol' and to a degree 'i couldn't top this so we're just revisiting this man because i know you'll eat it up'. there are so many ways you could have re-introduced the darkling that were like, relevant to the plot (which was supposed to be about nikolai), and instead the plot bent itself around to the sole purpose of bringing back this character.

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bansenshukai · 2 years

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a little drabble -- izuna&tobirama fake engagement (907 words)

“Senju!” Izuna yells as he slams open the door.

Tobirama looks unfazed– he doesn’t even look up as his brush glides against the inkstone before returning to make a row of barely-legible characters. Izuna doesn’t bother to check what he’s writing; he’s seen enough to know that it’s fuuinjutsu, and he has no interest in ever touching sealing theory or the minutiae of minor tenketsu control.

“Uchiha,” Tobirama replies. “Is there a reason you’ve come to bother me outside of my working hours?” His voice is as cold and unreadable as always, and even though Izuna knows he needs Tobirama’s cooperation, he can’t help the little flare of rage that spikes at the complete indifference Tobirama displays.

Izuna pulls the fan from his sleeve and tosses it on the desk, where it barely avoids smearing the scroll Tobirama’s working on. Tobirama’s brows furrow just the slightest, and he reaches for the fan.

“We’re getting engaged,” Izuna tells him haughtily, injecting every last drop of Uchiha pride into the steel of his spine, willing Tobirama to agree easily. “That’s the courting fan my father gave my mother to commemorate the start of their relationship.”

Tobirama stares at the fan in his hand without blinking. It’s an old thing now– Izuna had to dig it out of storage, since Father had hidden it deep away after Mother had left. Still; it’s richly patterned and printed on the finest Ame silk, and the gold beads dangling from the teak frame are worth over two months of civilian wages, even if the rest of it is hideously old fashioned.

“Why would you give me this?”

“To get engaged, Senju, did you not hear me the first time? I thought you were supposed to be a genius,” Izuna retorts. It’s a petty and stupid thing to say– he knows firsthand how much of a genius Tobirama is.

That goddamn Hiraishin. No shinobi should be capable of creating an entirely new branch of fuuinjutsu– he’s heard Tobirama claim it’s ninjutsu, not fuuinjutsu, but the base of the technique is rooted in seals. If you need Uzumaki Ryo’s Compendium of Fifth Order Seals and Runes to decipher it, it’s fuuinjutsu, no matter what semantics some stuck-up Senju wants to claim otherwise.

Tobirama just looks at him. “Why?”

Izuna narrows his eyes. “Why are you asking questions– so ungrateful, after everything the Uchiha have done for Konoha, don’t you think you owe it to us to just say yes to a simple request? And you owe me personally. The humiliation I had to endure, after my mortal enemy forced his way into our clinic and shoved his chakra through my stomach with all the manners of some lowborn farmer who’s never seen an etiquette book in his life–”

“Should I have not saved your life,” Tobirama says flatly. It’s barely a question, so Izuna doesn’t deign to treat it as such.

“What good does saving do anyway,” Izuna mutters bitterly. “Saving. Hah. Do you see yourself as the Uchiha’s righteous savior, come to save our clan from its barbarous leader and archaic traditions? It feels good doesn’t it– having our clan fall over themselves to grovel at your feet– woe is me, I’m Senju Tobirama and I receive too much praise from my former sworn enemy!”

Tobirama continues to give him that even, lidless gaze; devoid of blinks. It’s rather like a snake– he thinks snakes would have suited Tobirama as a summons, low-bellied and conniving little creatures they are, but of course he has tiger summons instead. It’s things like this that make Izuna skip the evening prayers at Ameratsu’s shrine. If Senju Tobirama gets to have the greatest of all cats at his beck and call, there is no higher power in this universe.

Izuna glares. “It’s a cover. A distraction. A ruse. With the rumors about your older brother and mine, we need to give them a bigger fish to fry. Metaphorically.”

“I can catch any size fish you’d like to eat,” Tobirama tells him absently, and picks up the fan, tucking it into his desk. He turns to the side to pick up a kunai, evidently done with the conversation.

Izuna gapes, unable to believe the sheer gall of it all– is Senju ignoring him– how dare he– and he hadn’t even bothered to return the fan–

And now there is blood, beading up in shiny droplets where Tobirama has used the kunai on the back of his hand.

“If you’re performing a blood sacrifice to get me to leave your office, you could just ask instead.”

Tobirama doesn’t respond. He dips his thumb in the blood, presses it on a blank sheet of paper and flares his chakra through it, then picks it up and hands it to Izuna.

Izuna stares at it. “Senju, why did you just hand me your trash? I’m not your personal maid, surely you can afford to hire someone.”

Tobirama has returned to writing his fuuinjutsu scroll. “Engagements run both ways, Uchiha. The fan is your token, that paper is mine. A blood seal is the Senju tradition. Announce it as you wish, that seal cannot be forged and will do away with any who doubt your word.”

Izuna tucks the piece of paper away in his pouch. “What a barbaric tradition,” he mutters, and makes sure to leave the door slightly open on the way out.

#tobirama #izuna #to clarify i consider this a platonic izu&tbrm relationship #they just happen to be getting engaged. why? because i think it's funny and i said so #this one's been sitting in the drive for a while #what is tumblr for if not for posting your silly self indulgent writing #drabble

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kipaia · 1 year

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Hey tell me about your Insane Mass Effect Timeline!

Oh my god. Mary.

I know you are FULLY aware of how FUCKING INCONSISTENT AND ANNOYING the official Mass Effect timeline is. I had a night last spring where I was trying to plot out my fanfic from start to finish and was getting super irritated about it so I went through, year by year, from 2115 to 2188 and wrote up my own timeline down to the exact dates of everything I needed to know for something like 14 characters entire lives, of which I think 10 or 11 are all complete ocs; I needed to know exactly where they all were and what was happening around them all at any given time, so I went through year by year wove them into the given Bioware timeline and put everything into a legible order.

This fucking document. The timeline alone (because I did end up sticking a couple of one shots on the end because I was too lazy to switch at the time),

Is thirteen pages long.

I have a thirteen page long timeline where I could put everything in a more sensible order, stretch out some of more ludicrously condensed major historical events of the official timeline and wrote up an actually sensible working order for the first two games because frankly, the way Bioware wrote it there is no possible way Shepard could have been spotted on Omega in Mass Effect 2 in mid-February of 2185 after having been dead two years and ten+ days and still have had enough time for the events of Mass Effect to occur in 2183.

If rumors of Shepard being alive came from Omega on Feb. 15th, they'd been dead for at least two years and ten days (plus a couple of days to account for Freedom's Progress and travel), and the attack on the Normandy happened a month after the Battle of the Citadel, the official timeline puts the entirety of Eden Prime war in the span of, maximum, the first week of January 2183, which can't have been the case if they also listen 2183 as the year the Normandy was constructed.

So yeah I got mad at that and how young a bunch of the 'older' characters canon ages are listed as (Anderson is in his early 40's according to the official timeline which I do not agree with, Hackett I think is something like 53 in official timeline, I don't remember off the top of my head) when humans canonically have 150+ year lifespans now. Neither of them would even be middle aged in that case, ffs, yet we're supposed to believe they're grizzled older gen soldiers on the verge of retirement? Yeah, no. First Contact War experience notwithstanding, I aged almost everyone from the older generations up, as well as my Athena Shepard by a few years because she has a teenage kid in the first game and I needed to sort all of that out.

I love my insane thirteen-page timeline and I reference that thing like it's the fucking bible whenever I'm writing anything for my mass effect fics.

Yeah so that's my rant about the Mass Effect timeline and how my thirteen-page monstrosity came to be and I love it so much

#mass effect #mass effect fanfic #the discovery of the actual mass effect to the 'present day' is only like 40 years #and somehow humanity has the second largest fleet in that amount of time? out of the entire fucking galaxy?#like i'm not saying they can't have built the ships or that they wouldn't be powerful #but i'm not going to believe they built a fleet to rival the turians in such a short amount of time #plus the entirety of the Systems Alliance has only existed for some 34 years this shit is brand new #my timeline includes the creation of the combined militaries of the first 18 countries into the Alliance Military #and yeah og timeline has Anderson as the first N7 in the first contact war when he was 20 like damn dude #also i just checked and yeah hackett is supposed to be like 49 at the start of the games #absolutely not #i love these games but that timeline is my bitch now

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raeloganthesonic06fangirl · 2 years

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So, this question might get a bit 'real' but I gotta know, how do you deal with the fact that many artists your age are better than you and that there's artists younger than you that are also much better? I mean, I get insecure when I see another artist that's either my age or younger that, contradictory, seems light years ahead of me and I'm like a decade younger than you, so I'm genuinely curious how you handle it.

I used to sort of be hyperaware of that when I was younger, especially because I really didn't start really being interested in doing art until I was 15, and wasn't able to get my first graphics tablet until I was 19, so I had a bit of a late start and probably didn't help that one of my cousins, who is 6 years my junior, was and still is somewhat of a prodigy when it came to arts and crafts.

Being 15 while hardly grasping the concept of anatomy and my cousin being 9 and making a whole heckin hyperrealistic pencil drawing of an upclose of a sea turtle on the beach, it sort of momentarily knocked the wind out of my sails if not for her saying "I wish I could make up characters like you do, though." which really sort of gave me an interesting perspective on other points of view. As far as she was concerned, she could make really good drawings, but she thought my characters were more fun to imagine.

Of course, I also have some disability stuff that does affect my fine motor skills to some degree, which is why I prefer to use pencils over inks and draw small because that suits better with the control of my wrist because if I did the whole-arm thing you're supposed to do, I'd never get a legible clean line, and holy heck, I absolutely cannot do paintbrush work cleanly at all, it's an absolute mess and looks nothing like how I do with pencils. Either way, I have a slight disadvantage with my range of (lack of) skills, and perspective is jank most of the time because I have no depth perception anyway without my glasses. Sometimes a sketch can take a few minutes on a good day or I spend all night trying to get a decent looking leg to work out in the drawing before giving up and throwing that in the "come back later" bin.

Another thing I like to hold onto is something my Mom has told my brothers and I over the years whenever one of us expressed disappointment in not matching the other in skills: "You are in competition with nobody but yourself."

I also have a sister-in-law who is a fairly popular artist in her particular community, but her wonderful words of wisdom for art is: "If you spend like a thousand hours working on a skill, you're gonna get really good at doing it."

Also, like, the majority of relatives on the paternal side of my family are natural artists in one way or another, sometimes even with textiles and crafts, and I'm recognized as the one in the family who does toon style over realism. My Lil Bro who has an account here on Tumblr I occasionally plug does fantastic anthro work with paws, claws, snouts and textures among other things. He's younger than me by a couple of years, and is the source of the "Sonic Man Candy" print I have hung up in my room that's a bit of a joke between us that I sometimes reference here one in a blue moon.

I haven't drawn this character in a good long while, but a cat character of mine known mostly as Bill (full name "Jared William Danus III") is a bit of a time capsule on how my art style started and changed over the years as I worked more of certain weak points and figured out that my best attributes were probably eyes and expressions, so I put more emphasis on those than anything to mask what might be lacking.

Bill started as simply a cat variant of your typical "imp counterpart to another character" in the vein of something like Mr. Mxyzptlk, as he's actually another universe's version of another character of mine, King Milo:

Over time, I sort of evolved Bill into his own thing, where his entire concept was "What if he wasn't exactly the typical main character, but the brother of a Chosen One sort of character, and wasn't even the Prime Universe version of all his variants?"

There's a massive amount of explanation behind him that I won't muddle here, but anyway, you can see that my earlier art bits were very not so good and very amateur and immediately makes my more recent stuff already look a bit better in comparison.

I'd say one of the most effective things you can do as a moral boost in times of doubt got your skills is to take an one of your older art pieces and redraw it. Get a real good look at what you've been able to improve on, check out your new techniques, maybe a better color pallet developed over the years, or maybe you can see life in the eyes of your characters or even see energy you weren't able to do the last time you drew that.

Age really doesn't determine your skill, it's how much time you've put into something you're very passionate about that helps it grow. And maybe a little bit of natural talent with some of us, because I'm pretty sure that's exactly what was going on with my cousin there. Straight up like that SpongeBob drawing a perfect circle thing.

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bwamp-bwamp · 1 year

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Holiday Havoc

This is a roleplay starter, but I'm tempted to turn it into a writing thingy.

If it works and starts a roleplay, aye, nice. If it doesn't, oh well. Either way, enjoy reading this fuckin thing.

Bubbles = others character or the reader

Winter based holiday = Hanukkah, Christmas, etc. (Sidenote: Andy is most familiar with Christmas because that's what I'm most familiar with, but I'm leaving this section open of others to decide what gets filled in, they are open-minded to whatever their partner celebrates though and will join in if invited to do so.

The holidays were just around the corner, usually it wasn’t that big of a deal for Andy, however this year was important to him. It was the first official (winter based holiday) they would be spending with Bubbles after being together for almost a year. This would also be their first time meeting their partner’s family. Parents, grandparents, siblings, nieces and/or nephews, anyone who would be there, Andy was going to meet them.

To say they were scared would be an understatement, they were fucking terrified. They wanted to make a good impression, but what if the family didn’t like him from the get-go? They didn’t want that to happen… which is why they were standing in the kitchen with their grandmas huge, overflowing recipe book held tightly in both hands, trying to decide what to make so he could attempt to win the family over. It was a bad idea really, especially to try without their partner knowing, seeing as not a single bone in their body was capable of cooking, and could run the risk of burning their house down.

Just looking at the book irritated them, not just because they weren’t granted their grandma’s or dad’s cooking abilities, but because the pages were withered and yellow, some had water spots but the writing was still legible, half of the pages weren’t even attached, just sitting loosely in it and the recipes weren’t organized by types. The sweets weren’t together, savory wasn’t with savory, etc. Grammy really just wrote as she came across and perfected them and it showed.

They’d be damned it they tried rewriting them and organizing it though. This was the only thing that he now owned that had her handwriting in it, as well as some of their dad’s recipes too in the back. They weren’t going to change anything about it.

So, here Andy sat on the kitchen counter, flipping through pages, trying not to lose or tear any, looking for treats that they think the others family would like, twisting the ring resting on their middle finger with their thumb from the same hand. They were silently mumbling the list of ingredients that were needed as they read for recipes that caught their interest, then getting up to see if they had everything, and moving on to the next if they didn’t.

At some point they just said fuck it and went with regular sugar cookies, then would just add frosting and sprinkles after. The third batch he tried making actually made it to the oven, even if it still doesn’t seem right to them, and that’s what led to the fire alarm being set off. Taking the cookies that were literally on fire out of the oven, Andy panicked, putting the fire out with the dish towel in their hand, muttering curses the entire time. Once the fire was gone, they made quick work of getting the fire alarm to shut off, opening a window or two to let out smoke even if it was incredibly cold outside.

This was NOT how things were supposed to turn out. Andy was supposed to, in their mind at least, get a random strike of good luck and have the cookies pop out of the oven looking and tasting like perfection. But instead they ended up with shriveled up, holiday shaped, charcoal, not cookies. Why couldn’t his Grammy’s and dad’s spirit come sprinkle at least a little luck and cooking ability upon him just for today.

Looking around the kitchen they once had spotless, all they saw now was a huge mess that had them stressing even more than they were before. Tears of frustration, shot nerves and the pressure they were putting on themselves filled their eyes. ‘I should’ve just made scarves or a blanket or something.It would’ve been the easier option at this point, but no, now it’s too late.’ As the thought passed through their mind, Andy moved to the cleanest corner of the kitchen and sat on the floor before curling in on themselves, tears beginning to trail down their cheeks as they silently cried.

#roleplay starter #non-fandom based original character #holidays with the family #holidy havoc #OC #Andy Parkway

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monstermoviedean · 3 years

Text

unparalleled media experience especially because there is no equivalent to jacting joices in any other media. i'm serious. it's some combination of winchester derangement syndrome + an ever-changing list of writers and directors + 15 seasons' worth of material and it means that at many points jensen knew dean winchester better than anyone else in the room. and i know, i know some of the joices were likely suggested by directors or producers or the scripts or other cast members. but every time we get a new script there's something on the screen that's different, something better, some missing piece of the 4d puzzle that is dean winchester.

#i'm watching peaky blinders and cillian murphy is a very good actor!#but i have never once gone 'wow he did this when the obvious choice was to do this'#or 'look at this tiny insignificant bit of body language which clearly says this'#it's partly because i'm normal about this show #but partly because the show does not ask you to assemble its characters #his character is supposed to be entirely legible #there are parts that are intentionally hidden but you can guess by the shapes of the shadows #but dean winchester is all constantly shifting shadows interrupted by periodic bursts of light #and jensen knows exactly when and where to shine that light #i said before thst dean is supposed to be legible and cas is the constantly shifting one #and i still believe that #the way tptb created dean was to be legible #but on-screen there's nuance and depth and life #you can see an entirely new world out of the corner of your eye #okay i obviously need to go to fucking bed. good night #spn

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mildcicada · 2 years

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Climbing

#my art #underfell #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #ut #undertale #i love my '''interpretation ''''' of characters like edge bc its literally judt an amalgamation of a bunch of other interpretations I've #seen of him. his backstory/thoughts/etc are NOT constant. he's constantly fluctuating in my head #im saying this bc i have multiple pasts fo him in my head and they DO NOT make sense together #some of which r included here lol #drawing on paper with a pen/marker is the easiest for me bc. there's no going back and fixing mistakes. and i can just express what i want #through vague lines that don't have to 100% look like what im thinking ab #its the easiest way to transfer what a drawing looks like in my head to actually existing. bc I don't have to refine any of it #its just good on its own #also i love makign drawings like this bc im bad at talking about my interpretations of characters. i just don't know how I'm supposed to #simply WRITE DOWN what an entire person is like ? i cant do that #trying to draw smaller aspects of him is the best i can do i think #like this drawing ! :) which now that I'm looking at my handwriting i think is maybe not as legible as i first thought.#it says 'maybe i should have wanted less. maybe i should have ignored the bowl in me burning to be filled. maybe i should have wanted less'#as in. the poem by lucille clifton. yknow that psot ab taking random pieces of media and making them fit your fav character no matter #how much it doesn't fit ?? yeah #change wanting longing etc etc #I'm bad at explaining what this means ab him and people have probably already put it intow ords better than i have. so I won't bother lol #whenever i try to say/explain something i always judt go around in circles saying so much yet so little ab. EVERYTHING #its my gemini mercury + moon yknow....? aha i think using astrology to explain every aspect of ur personality is silly but like. fun #like i simultaneously don't think its true and do think its true #i wish i could redraw this to reformat it better but. its done #ill get more drawings out if i make myself comfortable with just sketches and stuff fnfnnfjff #i wanna be able to just draw smth in 30 seconds and still be comfortable posting it #MAN i feel so edgy using captions like these. but I can't help it. i am cringe but i am free

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httpsaiki · 3 years

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Saiki with an s/o who just cups his cheeks and tells him they live him for the first time ever.

Hi! This is adorable, thank you so much for this request!! I did a story, not headcanons and it kind of got off track, but I hope you like it!

—

I went into way too much detail about cupcakes in this, I got carried away, oops. I'm back, though! After months I finally refound my love for this show and along with it my inspiration for writing! I hope this isn't too bad, I wrote it all in one go. I have been writing a personal project, but I doubt I've improved that much in the last couple months. Thank you if you read this! I hope to have more to post soon!

Reader is gender neutral!

WC: 1533

Italics represents Saiki speaking telepatically!

Saiki with a S/O who cups his cheeks and tells him they love him for the first time.

—————————————————–

Your week had been anything but easy. Balancing a school and social life wasn’t supposed to be easy, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. It seemed every assignment was due at some point this past week and every class had some sort of test or exam. On top of everything, your friend group decided it was the perfect time to meet up to study nearly every single day. It was completely and entirely exhausting. You hardly got a free moment to yourself.

To make matters worse, you hadn’t seen Kusuo the entire time. He was part of your friend group, yeah, but by some miracle, he managed to dodge every study session. It was almost like he had superpowers. On most weeks like this, Kusuo was the only thing that could get you through it, being around him was oddly healing - even if he’s a jerk about it sometimes, you miss him dearly. He had some sort of ability to keep you calm and content, just being around him was enough to relieve some of the day's stress. Kusuo was there for you no matter what, whether he was willing to admit that or not. You knew it to be true and he knows you know. That’s enough.

You could feel him rolling his eyes if you were to tell him anything you just thought, that is. That never stopped you, though, you needed to make sure he knows you care for him. No, care is not a strong enough word. You’re sure you love him, there’s no doubt in your mind. How can you go about telling him? He of all people definitely deserves to know he’s loved.

Plotting how you’d tell Kusuo that you love him turned out to be a fantastic stress reliever. Laughing all you want about the cheesy, made-up scenarios you come up with did wonders to calm you down. Anything from a mock proposal on the beach, to screaming it off a cliff. Most of them weren’t realistic, nor to either of your tastes. But they were fun, and that’s all that mattered. You finally decided on telling him the one way you knew he’d like best. Sweets. Content with your idea, you prepared for bed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

You woke bright and early. So early, in fact, that the sun had hardly even began to rise. There was work to be done. Quietly, you made your way down to the kitchen, careful enough not to wake anyone up. You decided on a quick and easy breakfast, you could never go wrong with toast. While the bread was toasting, you got out cupcake trays and your cake recipe, reading it over and gathering any ingredients you need. You left any ingredients that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge but prepared measuring cups and bowls for them. Anything that didn’t need to be kept cold was put into the appropriate bowl - wet or dry. As you were measuring out the last of your dry ingredients, you heard a faint pop from the toaster and decided it was time to take a break and eat. Your toast was surprisingly good, probably because you felt you worked for it.

Now was for the easier parts, combining the rest of your recipe and then pouring it into the cupcake trays. You went about your day, waiting for them to finish baking and then cool down. Once they were cool, it was around lunchtime. The perfect time to finish them up with icing. Carefully, you took your time to write out “I love u Kusuo!” Putting each character on its own cupcake - unfortunately having to shorten the “you” so that it would fit on the 12 of them. To add a final touch, you added a couple small heart candies onto some of them. They looked great and you were proud of your work.

As soon as the cupcakes were packaged up and ready to go, you headed immediately out the door. Kusuo didn’t usually like when you showed up suddenly or unannounced, but you carried treats and an important message this time. You were sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

The walk to his house was uneventful as always. You were lucky enough not to run into anyone you knew on the way there. You didn’t want to have to explain yourself and a small part of you expected that running into somebody would only strike disaster - similar to the past week. There was a small skip in your step on the way there, happy to finally see Kusuo after that long, painful week. You didn’t let any of your nerves get to you. Kusuo would take your message well. He had to.

Or, that’s what you were telling yourself as you nervously stood at his doorway. Ringing his doorbell had never been so frightening. You braved it, though, and your finger found its way up to his doorbell. The muffled ring could be heard even from the outside and approaching footsteps that sounded awfully familiar came shortly after.

When the door opened you were greeted with the face you craved to see all week. He looked as unbothered as ever, but the second he stepped aside and his arm gestured to let you in you knew he was happy to see you. With a smile on your face, you went to step inside and-

Apparently, your awful week had yet to cease. Right as you walked in the door, towards Kusuo, your foot caught the bottom of the doorframe. You tripped on it, the box of cupcakes falling along with you. "Oh!” It came out choked and as if you hadn’t meant to say it at all, “No!”

You quickly peeked inside of the box. The icing writing you had worked so hard on was smudged, no longer legible. They were still edible, but the message had been erased. Kusuo was staring down at the cupcakes, an almost puzzled expression on his face. He kept the same expression as his eyes met yours.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, “they were for you, I didn’t mean to- to make a mess of them.”

Kusuo only nodded, but it was enough to tell you there was no problem and you hadn’t even needed to apologize. He wasn’t mad.

“Listen, Kusuo I,” you cut yourself off, now that the cupcakes weren’t an option how did you want to tell him?

“Screw it.” You muttered under your breath as you stood up from the ground, dusting yourself off. Now back on your feet, you quickly reached up, placing both your hands on Kusuo’s cheeks. Your thumbs found their way right on his cheekbones, running softly along them. The rest of your fingers could reach to his hair and you had to resist completely tangling them in it. His expression was entirely neutral once more, at the very least he wasn’t offended by your actions.

“I really love you, Kusuo.”

He smiled. He actually smiled. It was genuine, it was beautiful, everything you could’ve asked for and more. His hands were in your cheeks too at this point and he had an uncharacteristically intense look in his eyes.

“I really love you, too.”

Such a simple statement and yet you could feel your cheeks burning up from it. Even worse, his hands were on his face so he could feel it too. He was so close, still smiling at you. You’d never imagined his face was capable of making such a dopey, lovesick smile and yet here he is. And then he hugged you. Tight. He’d never held you like that before, it was so loving and warm. It hardly lasted a couple seconds, so short that you were almost sure you imagined it. As soon as you registered it, it was over, and Kusuo’s normal, unbothered expression remained on his face.

“We shouldn’t let your hard work go to waste, should we? Want to come enjoy these with me?” Kusuo moved down to pick up the box, staring down at them in admiration even if they were a mess by now. You didn’t bother to reply to him, still slightly in shock. You chose to simply follow after him into the other room as he placed the box on a table. Kusuo wasted no time in grabbing one of the cupcakes, his signature sweets-eating-face taking over as soon as he took a bite. It was endearing, to say the least. As if he sensed your hesitation, he nudged the box towards you, encouraging you to take one as well. Despite their state, they still tasted amazing, all your hard work really paid off.

The rest of the day was spent comfortably. You refused to leave Kusuo’s side after everything that happened. You took to ranting about your week and how much you missed him while sat comfortably next to him, right where you wanted to be. Maybe the past week was worth it. You finally got to tell Kusuo you love him and got plenty of time together to make up for it. It had been bad, but like all the times before, Kusuo had a way of making you feel better.

#the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #saiki #my writing

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canonlucidia · 2 years

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Ba’el + Fatherhood

[ For the Character + Word Ask meme found here ]

[[ For More information about Ba'el and the Royal Family, click here ]]

It is not difficult, realistically speaking, to sire a child. At best it is a moment of mutual pleasure, at worst, it's a dispassionate transaction between two parties.

The difficult part, of course, is what comes after the fruits of those labors are born.

Out of all the things that Ba'el thought to learn as a newly crowned King of Hell, how to be a Father was simply not high on the list, if it was ever on it at all--a footnote to a footnote, a half legible scribble tucked into the bottom edge of a page.

He hadn't thought much in the way of heirs, his own throne just barely won, the blood of the previous king still tacky on his claws, the sound of their death still resonating in his ears, but that hadn't meant his freshly inherited court didn't have designs for Ba'el's eventual, inevitable fatherhood.

He married quickly, decisively to his favorite general, and quickly produced a child. He saw little of the boy, (Vasago, Ba'el had named him) half out of true avoidance, and half out of the reality of governing an entire realm truly being a time sink. It didn't bother him overmuch-- his Queen Consort had always been capable, and.... Really, what would Ba'el have to offer them?

He would not be what his Mother, the late King, was to him. He would never disown, disavow, or dispute his own child's lineage the way his Mother had. But on the same token... Ba'el would never have half of the kindness of his Parent, who had raised him in bitter squalor, who had fed him on promises and hope and helpless affection.

At such an impasse, Ba'el found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for direction... And so, decided to table the concerns of Fatherhood for a bit longer, until he had more time to devote to thinking the matter over.

Time passes so quickly when one stops paying attention to it.

Ba'el marries again, and again, and thrice more after that. Alliances are power, and blood pacts are the price to pay for an iron grip on the throne. Children are born, and named, and sometimes they have his hair, or his eyes, and it probably makes him feel... something, truly, but...

Ipos is born not long after Vasago, an early, bloody thing. Ba'el does not suppose they will survive their first few years, and is nearly shocked that they do. (They are his child, did he not survive as well?)

But Ba'el is careful with his time and his affections-- it's dangerous to favor any of the children over another, and best for him not to grow overly attached, when he himself made manifest the current rights of succession. Most of them will die in combat, he reasons, so it is not imperative he spends too much time with any of them.

His third born, Beleth, seems so far to have the best chance at surviving to adulthood with minimal interference, and is thus the most promising heir. It's safest therefore to indulge a bit with him, instructing and teaching him, carefully, subtly maneuvering the right teachers into the right positions for his son to learn from.

The boy is even near by-- with his mother's position as second consort, and therefore Head of Staff, his second wife has no need to leave the Demon King's palace to attend to other duties, and therefore, has no need to ship their child off to a distant villa with some maternal family member to mind them away from the dangers of the royal court.

Ba'el wouldn't go out of his way to call it pleasant, but the proximity settles something unknown and restless in him.

A fourth child is born (Seere, who barely resembles Ba'el at all apart from the determined, resigned set of her brow), and then a fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh, and finally, an eighth.

Paymon, Ariton, Rosier, Amaymon.

Ba'el names all of them, looks into the faces of the lives he helped create, and dooms them in the selfsame breath.

#canonlucidia #fic ask meme #lanternes of light #anonymous #HOLY SHIT this one hit me like a truck #as Ba'el is of course my own OC this ficlet is entirely like... just my own bullshit #Ba'el is! A Fucked Up Person! and has complicated and fucked up feelings #Paymon will one day grow up to be the Diavolo we know and love for those who are New here #and most of his siblings are dead #ask to tag...?#anyways tysm anon this is the most self indulgent shit

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werewolf-cuddles · 3 years

Text

Apparently this time, terfyfem has decided to block me in advance in what I can only assume is some vain attempt to get the last word in. Of course, that’s not going to stop me, so let’s dissect this mess.

Not actually going to respond to any of this part, but given that she is once again resorting to incredibly childish insults, I think this paragraph speaks for itself.

Okay, first off, “stupid little girl”? Like I told you last time, I’m a man. You literally have no excuse this time since I already pointed this out to you.

Anyway, no. Monetization was not relevant to the original point. Before we were only talking about whether or not it’s okay for fanartists to watermark their artwork. Monetization wasn’t even being discussed until you suddenly brought it up in an attempt to move the goalposts. Anyway, if an artist is having their work reposted without permission or credit, then they have every right to be upset about that, regardless of whether they have a Patreon/KoFi or not.

Like i said last time, watermarks are supposed to ensure that the work will always link back to the artist and cannot be separated from them. And since some people are actually trying to make a living from their art, it makes sense that their watermark would include a link to their Patreon, so that people can support the artist if they like their work.

Granted, my wording last time was poor. What I meant was that advertising was not the sole purpose of watermarks, and that their primary purpose was to make absolutely certain that the artist’s work could never be reposted without credit or passed off as somebody else’s.

What I said was that I haven’t seen any example of an IP holder taking action against a fanartist for drawing fanart of their IP while being supported via Patreon. And these were seriously the best examples you could find?

Alright, that first one is Capcom issuing a DMCA notice against a modder who was using Patreon to profit off of his Street Fighter mods. Since we were talking about FANART, not modifications of existing game assets, this example is irrelevant to the point we were talking about.

The second one is a Reddit post claiming that Nintendo were taking action against multiple artists for drawing Pokemon characters. The problem with this one however is that the poster does NOT provide a source for their claims, as illustrated by this screenshotted comment here:

So, to reiterate, the two examples you provided are irrelevant and unreliable respectively. Is this seriously all you were able to find?

Not the point I was making. The point was that the copyright warning against making “unauthorized copies” of a published work refers to duplicating and redistributing it. It does NOT cover fanart, no matter how much you try to twist the narrative to claim it does.

Like I said before, while not technically legal unless it falls under fair use, derivative works are legally distinct from their source material. While the IP owner still owns the copyright for the IP, people who create derivative works own those works. The IP owner can’t just take the derivative work and sell it as their own product.

I don’t support art theft. I’ve literally been arguing for artists rights to PROTECT their work FROM art theft this entire fucking time. Drawing fanart of a copyrighted IP is not equivalent to stealing, you fucking dunce.

Also, “fans purchase the copyright when they buy the media, and so are entitled to all associated content until the original righters holder says no.”

NO. THAT’S LITERALLY NOT HOW COPYRIGHT LAW WORKS IN THE SLIGHTEST, YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!

At this point, they link to a YouTuberLaw video and start going on about how derivative works are still copyright infringement and the copyright owner has the right to shut them down... which was clearly just copied and pasted from somewhere else and was misunderstood, because it’s actually legible and it directly contradicts their earlier claim that the copyright owner owns all derivative works. Oops.

I think it was the phrase “derivative rights” that confused them. That just means that the owner is the only one with the legal right to make derivative works, it doesn’t mean that they also own the rights to unauthorized derivative works, just that they have the right to shut those works down if they want to. As I’ve been repeatedly stating, most copyright owners just turn a blind eye to this stuff or actively encourage it because it’s free promotion.

Wrong. If Scott Cawthon had kept those fan models in the game’s boxart, even though he owns the characters, he didn’t create those models and doesn’t have the right to use them. Replacing the models was a show of goodwill towards the fanbase, but it was also the correct thing to do from a legal standpoint.

Also, yes, both Nintendo and Star Wars have used stolen fanart in their works in the past. These instances were mistakes, just like the Scott Cawthon incident above. They mistakenly used fan creations that looked official, most likely under the assumption that they actually were official. This kind of thing happens fairly often, and the companies in question are usually called out for it when it does happen, because they’re in the wrong for doing so.

The absolute irony in someone missing the point while accusing somebody else of missing the point. You’re a fucking moron. What I said was that if I bought a copy of Undertale, that wouldn’t mean that I’d be automatically entitled to all of Toby Fox’s other works. That doesn’t change just because he still has the right to sell me those works if I want to buy them.

And yes, if somebody took DLC that Toby Fox had released for free and charged money for it, that would be illegal. That’s not the same thing as an artist taking a Patreon request or a commission to draw a piece of Undertale fanart, especially since Toby’s policy on fanworks actually allows that.

Except that Toby Fox is still free to advertise his work wherever and whenever he pleases. Fanartists not allowing people to repost their work uncredited does not change that.

No, stealing would be claiming the character as your own property, which is not what fan artists do.

No, the drawing is OF the character. Claiming ownership of a DRAWING of a character is not the same thing as claiming ownership over the character itself. Are you a child? No? Then stop arguing like one.

Yes, they are well within their rights to do that, whether you like it or not.

The rest of this is just a load of drivel that’s not worth responding to. At this point, I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that terfyfem is full of shit, and can’t argue her points to save her life.

We’re done here.

#long post #fandumb #be gone terf #a wild radfem appears #fan entitlement #keep in mind that she's an admitted art thief #so it's transparently obvious that she's only mad about watermarks #because it makes it harder for her to steal art

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