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kiss-inthekitchen · 3 months

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same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him.

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone.

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet.

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum.

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do.

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics.

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice.

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.”

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.”

“But I think I should be right more often than that.”

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.”

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?”

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.”

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while.

“Spence?”

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door.

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.”

“I’m already inside with the door locked.”

“Man, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already.

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.”

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.”

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice.

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic.

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does.

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster.

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.”

You laugh. “For the whole day?”

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.”

“Okay, rest day all day.”

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.”

“Maybe the floor.”

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?”

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.”

“Say no more.”

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?”

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.”

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.”

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke.

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?”

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.”

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.”

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates.

You let out a little gremlin laugh.

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone.

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’.

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs.

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.”

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’”

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.”

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part.

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.”

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.”

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.”

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.”

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird.

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him.

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice.

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh.

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it.

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes.

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.”

“We did.”

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy.

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him.

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters.

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #my fics #your honor im obsessed with him

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darqx · 8 months

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Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

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

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

#prettyboysmakegravezz #character design #ref #character design tips #hope this is kinda helpful!#also honestly have fun aye #long post #also as for other content with rire there kinda is but he's not really the main charac lol #also who knows when that will come out im a bit pedantic planning a webcomic #sz

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sweetandsavageautistic · 2 months

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(CW: Cringe, Autism Parents stuff, drunk mention, infantilization)

So I don't have a degree in Graphic Design, but I do have a sense of general aesthetic. I figured that it's April. Let's rate, and potentially verbally tear apart and drag through the mud, some autism shirts and graphic designs, and I'll probably do a part 2, these scores are only semi-arbitrary: First up is this:

Already off the top, I am confusion because it seems to read "I wear puzzle cousin autism awareness". Sounds like whoever made this was drunk.

Puzzle pieces, ew.

The red, yellow, green, and blue look like the shades you'd see in elementary school, so that seems pretty infantilizing.

Autism Awareness, I am very much aware of my existence.

Final Score: 0 out of 10. Designer, go home; you're drunk.

Next we have this:

This one already has a slight advantage over the first because it's at least coherent in terms of the message.

Elementary school colors, but make it extra tacky.

Puzzle pieces; don't try to bullshit me by putting the autism awareness banner over it, I can see the other indents that make them puzzle pieces.

Once again, I am well aware of my own existence.

At least it's a smaller design.

Final Score: 0.5 out of 10, and that's being generous.

Next one's not a shirt, but it still counts:

No blue so thank God for that.

This is up to personal preference, but to me, the person-first language is giving "I need to be reminded that someone is a person."

Puzzle pieces. Ew. Don't BS me, I can see them.

Walk down Autism Lane. (it's right below the word LOVE) Sorry, but we don't allow ableists on Autism Lane; you need to be a premium member and to be a premium member, you need to not be a dick.

The pumpkin disturbs me for some reason, and not in the Halloween way; I mean, it just straight-up disturbs me.

Final Score: 0.5 out of 10. Bury it in a shallow grave.

Just found this one:

It's easy on the eyes at least.

No tacky elementary school colors.

No puzzle pieces.

The bunny's cute, but this also seems very infantilizing.

Person first language is a no for me.

Why are all of the is lowercase, but the others are uppercase?

Final Score: 5 out of 10. Not great, but not terrible.

Here we have simple:

Elementary school colors, but credit where credit's due; it's not terrible on the eyes.

Why is blessed on there three times?

One big-ass puzzle piece.

"Autism blesses" Yes, because being bullied by my peers, being indirectly told who I am is wrong, having the worst time making friends, always feeling like I'm never truly part of a friend group, being confused when some adults got mad at me, not having anyone to play with at 4 years old is an absolute fucking blessing. /s And that's the tip of the iceberg.

"Fun", "Sweet", "Cute".....it's the infantilization for me.

Final Score: 3 out of 10. No further elaboration.

Then there's this monstrosity:

I call this color Patronizing Paraprofessional Blue, aka the tackiest shade of blue ever.

It looks like something one of those older white suburban millennial moms would wear. Like something a Karen would wear to one of those autism walks or one of those social skills teachers who talk in that slowed-down patronizing kindergarten teacher tone with that fake-ass smile, no matter how old you are. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Yeah, they'd wear this.

Puzzle piece. Light It Up Blue. Ew.

We all know what organization this supports.

Final Score: -10 out of 10. Burn it.

Let's get in a good one to counter that abomination of a shirt and end part one on a higher note:

Nice simple design with a black background.

No tacky elementary school colors.

Identity-first language.

Really counters the....what the fuck would it be called? The UwU autism parent thing? ("I am his voice, he is my heart," "See the able, not the label," etc,.) It counters that.

The light sparkle around "a bitch" is chef's kiss.

Final Score: 11 out of 10. Perfection.

#autism awareness #autism acceptance #autism #autistic #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #sweet and savage autistic

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itsfairly · 8 months

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Illicit Toasts // 1920s!Nanami Kento x F!Reader

Summary: The prohibition of alcohol didn't stop people from getting their hands on it. It only made them find places where they could get their fill of giggle water in illicit establishments filled with booze, music, and social life. For Nanami Kento, however, alcohol was merely an excuse to visit this speakeasy. Yet, he did go to that place to get his high on something, someone else.

Word Count: ~5.1k

CW: 1920s AU (focused on the prohibition era), fem!reader, singer!reader, strangers to lovers (kinda), fluff (kinda), pining kento, mentions of alcohol, alternate between 3rd person and 2nd person.

A/N: first, you can find the artist of the fanart here! second, there is no doubt in my man that my man would look amazing in the 1920s aesthetic, look at him. i was thinking about this for a while and the covers from the postmodern jukebox helped. am i thinking about writing more about this AU? maybe, especially if people are into it. 1920s! Nanami Kento, you will always be famous.

Just what was he doing here? Coming back and pretending it was just for some booze that he could easily stash at home with the promise of some quietness and privacy?

Nanami didn’t know the answer. As he puts his wallet into his coat, he tries to think of one with no avail. He didn’t know why his feet kept walking towards that damned speakeasy as if it were a part of his routine. It felt as if his body got the best of him despite his mind telling him it was a bad idea to come to a place like this as someone of his reputation.

He was wealthy, had a nice job, a status that put him high on everyone’s list on his appearance alone. He felt like he was risking it all by just coming here. Nanami had the means to contact a bootlegger and get that alcohol he used as an excuse to come here. A bar that could get raided at any moment and put him in jail by just being there. It would be his ruin if that were to happen.

No money.

No job.

No status.

But despite it all, he still walked towards that door. Knock. Knock, knock. Knock. Knock. A pattern he memorized the first time he came here when a friend of his implored him to accompany him for a drink. Little did he know back then how much he would play this rhythm against the rusty door with a dimly lit room behind it, full of chatter, drinks, and entertainment for those who were willing to risk it.

Funny thing is that, though Nanami is a heavy drinker, he is a loner at that. Those extravagant parties held by people of his status were too luxurious for his taste, he only attended them to keep his connections intact and for the promise of booze. He much prefers to drink in the comfort of his own home. No superficial conversations. No drunks trying to flirt with him or overstep his boundaries. But to drink for the joy of it rather than to survive the event.

He was about to turn around after questioning why he kept coming here when the door opened, a voice greeting him into the bar. It reeked of the smell of old wood, strong liquor, the dreaded tobacco smoke, and the light colognes and perfumes mixing together as they escaped out the door and into his nostrils. It was a last warning. Though he was still standing at the foot of the door, he could still change his mind and leave to get his fill back home. The unique smell reminded him not only of what awaited him if he entered but also brought a sense of tension. Was all this secrecy and feeling of rebellion against a law that prohibited some fun worth everything he worked so hard for?

But that warning fell on deaf ears. Ears that were busy welcoming the real reason he was coming back in the first place. It was not the alcohol, it was never the reason why his body walked the streets until he reached this door. It wasn’t a taste or a smell. It was a sound and a sight.

It was the pretty singer who held her own against the band and rose above the chatter as more than mere background noise to fill the air.

You.

He still remembers the first time he saw you on that stage. He could barely understand what his friend was talking about when they brought him here. He was busy looking at you and hearing the pretty voice that captured his attention the moment he walked in. You didn’t seem to mind the fact that people were too caught up in their own conversations or the delightful buzz their whiskey and bourbon brought instead of hearing the music. But to him, it was the complete opposite. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, take you off your mind nights after seeing you for the first time. You brought him a high no liquor had brought before and you don’t even speak to him. You were just doing your job, a living by singing in this dimly lit bar full of patrons breaking the law. You were the star of this speakeasy.

Tonight was no different.

Your voice stood out from the chatter that filled the room, dripping in a silky passion that lured him into stepping in and taking a seat at the bar. It was obvious you weren’t performing for anyone but yourself. The way you sang each song, each lyric, was intoxicating to Nanami. It was like a spell that drew him in further into this attraction he felt for you. It was always such a raw performance he could only describe as passionate and immersive. He could hear how you felt every emotion from your voice alone. Vulnerable, intense, alluring. To think he could list everything he heard in your voice would be an impossible challenge he would gladly take.

But your looks came along and he knew it was over. Your performance was more than just your voice, but also the way you moved. You were a temptress, sensuality in its purest form. Swaying side to side at the rhythm of the keys and strings, almost as if your hips marked the tempo for everyone to follow. But you were more than that. It wouldn’t be fair to see you as sex-on-a-stick that others had reduced you to. Not when you had this bright and cheerful smile on your face every time he saw you on that stage. Or when you did these little gimmicks with your gloved-covered hands that always captured his attention as you acted the lyrics. One thing was certain: the way you looked and performed told him you were having the time of your life up there.

He could see it in your face alone. Your face, your angel face that told him how much fun you had when singing. It was as if you were one with the music and wanted to keep it that way. Showing each and every emotion of the song as if you wrote it yourself. Dancing and acting as if no one was watching. He admired that. It drew him into you. Authenticity was written all over you, displaying so many parts of you and showing this energy of yours that made you much more complex than anyone in his class.

There was no doubt. You were a performer through and through.

But to him, you were this enchantress. Seduction follows your every move and sound. You looked so confident, so comfortable on that stage surrounded by liquor and smoke that others were so distracted by, missing the real deal. The straight loose dresses you wore with fringes and beads that moved with you, the pearls that added an elegant touch, the gloves that covered your skin, the t-strap shoes that clicked with every step, and that makeup that wrapped everything together.

You looked like a doll, shining in the spotlight and surrounded by this lively and strong aura he couldn’t help but be attracted to. So addicting like the glasses of whiskey he drank, but much sweeter.

As another number came to a close, you bowed at the audience. Even if you didn’t receive much applause, you didn’t care. You know what comes with being an entertainer at these places: barely any recognition and a lot of cons such as getting arrested for even being here. But you loved it. The ambiance was calm, nothing too crowded or loud to keep the place safe from a police raid; the lights added a sense of secrecy and sensuality that you were all in for, and the best of all, the pay. Jobs like this were hard to come by, those that paid you to do what you liked.

Even if your day job brought you a lot of tension and stress, it was this gig that allowed you to shake those feelings off and let loose. Shine like the way you were supposed to, be treated like a person and not a number or some airhead. Sure, you were often shaken off as part of the background of a rebellious experience that people were quiet about. But it was tit-for-tat—go through hell by day and live the crème de la crème at night. No family to control you, no boss to scold you for no reason, and no judgemental looks for not being a mother or married.

You looked back at your band, clapping at them for their performance so far with a bright smile. You quickly excuse yourself, asking them to play a few songs without you as you go and fetch yourself something to drink. All this smoke made your throat dry, which was a no-no for a performer like you.

Making your way to the bar and asking for a light drink—the bartender’s choice being a bee’s knees—you notice a blond man with his elbow resting on the bar. You looked at him, instantly seeing the signs that he was of a higher class than the usual patrons. Tailor-made suit in a pristine condition fitting him perfectly, the material looking expensive from how soft it looked alone. Handsome face free of facial hair, his skin probably as smooth as one can be, something not many had the privilege of due to tight schedules or lack of resources.

The drink was a dead giveaway. From the looks of it, it seemed to be whiskey neat. Most people opted for the much cheaper beer, not for something like whiskey. Let alone neat and not on the rocks. It told you it was someone who had the privilege of drinking enough to be able to handle the harshness of it and its expensive price.

Not only that, but the drink seemed unattended as told by the way his hands were further enough from the glass. People normally downed their drinks if they were alone, the lack of another glass near him told you he was probably on his own tonight. But no. He didn’t seem in a rush to drink or be accompanied by someone. He was alone at a bar with a drink he hadn’t sipped from during the alcohol prohibition. What are the odds?

You think of starting a conversation with the man, intrigued about him, when the bartender handed you your drink. You smiled at them, thanking them for their service as you took the glass by their stem and brought it to your lips. Honey, lemon, and most importantly, gin invade your mouth as you taste the forbidden drink. Sure, alcohol isn’t the best thing to drink when performing a set, but it’s not like a sip once in a while hurt. Especially with how hard it is to get these drinks when one doesn’t have the means, working at a speakeasy seemed like a blessing.

Your thoughts are interrupted before you set the glass down, the blond at your side snapping you out of them with his velvet voice. It was a few words, but they were enough to detect a certain elegance that matched his appearance. Modesty and opulence easily summarize your impression of the man before you.

“Your performance was lovely.” He said nonchalantly, turning his body to face you as his hand wrapped around the glass of whiskey.

It’s not like people didn’t compliment your singing. They did…once they were drunk or when they were seeking attention. But compliments from someone who looked like him? Sure, he sounded casual about it and it almost made you think he was being sarcastic. But when you turn to look at him, ready to give him your usual “you can give it a go if you want” answer, you see that he was being genuine. He was waiting for a response patiently, his thumb caressing the side of his glass. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite place, it seemed like nerves but there was no reason to feel like such.

You flash him a small smile, nodding your hand towards him. “Thank you, I’m sure it would’ve paired so well with your drink. Shame that it seems unattended.” He looked at you puzzled, looking down at the drink in question before turning back to you. “I was not aware that one could pair alcohol with performances. Especially with everything going on right now.” “Then you’re missing quite the opportunity. Neat whiskey? Jazz and blues pair up well with it, which is our set for tonight. You’re lucky the band is still playing as we speak, you can still enjoy the combination of taste and sound.” You smile, looking back at the band and then back at him.

He wastes no time to take in your silence as an invitation to try the multi-sensorial experience. You see him swirl the liquid in the glass, the piano and trombone standing out from the band of instruments, and then taking a sip as he lets the alcohol wash over his mouth to savor it.

He chuckles, his brows jumping once in delight as turns back to you. You raise your eyebrow, now waiting for his response.

“My first thought when pairing alcohol is usually food. I’m afraid I’ll have to start thinking about what I will be doing when drinking a certain drink.” He says, his eyes showing that delight when he turns to you.

“Hopefully you keep that idea long after you leave this place. It’s quite fun to pair things with others we haven’t thought of before.”

“Really? Is your drink especially paired with your performance tonight?”

You look down at your own drink, taking it into your hand and bringing it to your lips for a small sip. You nod at the taste, the fresh taste of gin swirling on your tongue while the smooth run of the trombone plays in your ears.

“Absolutely.” You say with a small chuckle.

The man before you decides to stand up, pushing the stool back as he does. He turns his body to face you completely, a soft and calm expression decorating his face as he looks at you in what could only be curiosity. But this one is different from the curious looks you usually get. It’s not perverse or mere amusement. It’s as if he’s finally living a moment he thought of for a while, a moment he thought would never happen. It’s different and unexpected, sure, but it’s new. His expression almost leaves you breathless, now becoming curious as well.

He extends his hand to you, his eyes never leaving your face as a blink-it-and-you’ll-miss-it smile decorates his. Though others would think his expression is firm and stoic, his eyes tell you otherwise just like his voice does. That velvet voice of his drips from his lips once more.

“Kento Nanami. May I ask for your name, miss?”

Your name sounds just like the melodies you are so used to singing on the stage. It is a smooth and harmonious sound that goes easy on his ears when you say it. He couldn’t fight the smile on his face for long, showing it for a second as he felt you reach out to his hand and shake it. It was only for a second, but it was enough to know how dangerous you were becoming to him.

With your hand on his, he turns it around and kisses the back of it like the gentleman he is. It’s soft and gentle, not wanting to come off strong as if you’re only an object to him. You weren’t and he wanted to treat you with the respect you deserved. Nanami’s lips soon leave your gloved-covered hand but his hand still holds you carefully, looking up at you with gentle calm eyes.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He says, sure that if he were to say your name it wouldn’t sound so angelic like you say it. He drops your hand near your lap, careful to not be so harsh the moment he lets it go.

Shaking him up like this with only your name? He never planned for you to have this effect on him, let alone this quickly. He never thought he would be drinking next to you, finally having a name for that gorgeous smile that shined on the stage. He didn’t think life would be able to bring you two together even if it was for a few minutes.

Your voice was as pretty when speaking as it was when singing, the sound of your name sounding like every other night you performed on that stage. He couldn’t help but repeat it out, lucky enough to play it off as if he was just checking if he heard you right. That in itself was an irony considering all the trouble he went through every night he wanted to hear you sing.

And now he was hearing you speak to him.

The band playing as the rest of the speakeasy melted away and it was only you in his view and ears. You were an arm’s away from him and it was a chance he had to take, at least to compliment your performance. Not just of tonight’s but of every night, even if he wasn’t there to hear it. Soon that compliment led to small talk that then led to presenting each other. Now here he was, immersed in the casual conversation between you two.

No stocks, no gossip, no work. Just chit-chat in which he didn’t need alcohol to push through it like he does at big events at work or with people he’s forced to spend time with. It was talking for the pleasure of it. Something an introvert like him found reserved for certain people. But here you were, able to sneak past that detail of his and put him at ease despite all the giddiness he feels inside him from finally being able to speak to you.

You didn’t seem that much different off-stage. You were lively, charming, and able to hold your ground. But you were also much calmer, casual, reserved even; though not to the extent he is. It simply confirmed to him that you were a hundred percent yourself when you were performing, authentic to yourself even if you weren’t showing all parts of yourself. You still had that welcoming energy in and out of the stage.

Your body was facing his just like he was facing yours as you two sat at the bar with your drinks. He was finally taking sips of that ignored whiskey long after he ordered it while you had allowed him to take up your small break. It wasn’t the most interesting conversation in the world, to be frank. But if any of his friends saw him at the moment, they would know Nanami was hanging onto every word you said.

“I’m more of a hermit.” He starts, setting his drink down at the bar. “I do drink with friends and explore these speakeasies, but I much rather enjoy a drink in the comfort of my home.”

“Oh, so you’re able to afford that luxury of owning alcohol?” You smirk at him, tilting your head towards him. You sigh, relaxing your shoulders with your hands on your lap. “Although, I understand. I get overwhelmed in crowded places and would drink privately if I could.”

“Overwhelmed? A singer?” He raises an eyebrow at you. He wasn’t teasing you or being sarcastic by any means. He knows it could come off that way, but he was intrigued. You seemed comfortable when you sang, dancing around as you became one with the music and the world disappeared.

“It’s different!” You laughed softly, bringing your glass to your lips. “I like singing and people don’t really come to these places looking for music. They come for this.” You gestured to the wall stocked with all kinds of liquor, a quantity that could lead everyone working at the establishment to be imprisoned. It’s a wonder the police haven't found this place, neither of you would be here at the moment conversing. “I am just part of the experience but not the main attraction. That lets me act like there’s no one around.”

Nanami nods. Though he completely comes to this bar for the opposite reason, he can see how it is easy for you to shake off the nerves and get behind the microphone. If you were only a prop that added to the illicit and almost seducing ambiance for people to drink in, then you could let loose and not many people would remember it. That and because some drank to the point of blackout.

“I see, not much of a people’s people, are you?”

You shrug your shoulders, pursing your lips. “I like the stage, I like to perform. I don’t mind people, but sometimes it can be too much to have all that…energy at all times.”

Nanami chuckles, knowing that feeling too well. Sure, he wasn’t a performer like you. But he had to deal with numerous people at work, at social events, and in his everyday life. Be polite, never turn down a conversation too quickly, talk about the work he hated, pass time with people who only saw him as a walking wallet or an eye candy, and live up to his status’ expectations…he was much more comfortable with his privacy.

“I understand. Guess it’s part of work, is it not?”

You nod, a sympathetic smile coming to your face as you bring your drink close to your lips. “Part of life to be honest.” But before you take a sip, you knit your eyebrows as you look down at it. You turn your attention back to Nanami, lifting your drink in the air with a much more genuine smile, and say, “Cheers, for being able to hold up for this long.”

He feels the same giddy feeling from earlier creep up to him again, shaking them off as he takes his glass and clinks it with yours gently. He cheered for other things all the time. This shouldn’t be any different just like giving a compliment to a stranger.

Maybe it is because this time is much more genuine than all those times he had to tolerate rather than celebrate.

“Cheers then.” He hums. Pulling the glass back and lightly raising it towards you, he savors the strong earthy notes of his whiskey. He has tasted this flavor before many times, but tonight, the bitterness felt much less overpowering thanks to your presence.

Much to his disappointment, the moment is cut short when your head turns towards the stage. He looks in the same direction, the cello player throwing his head back to signal you that you need to come back for the next set of songs. You sigh, slowly standing up from your seat with the drink still in hand.

“Duty calls.” You hum, looking at Nanami with a gentle smile. “This was fun. Maybe you should start sitting closer to the band rather than being all the way here.”

Nanami knits his brows, confused and intrigued by your insinuations. Before he can ask about what you mean, you quickly jump in to clarify it yourself.

“I get on that stage almost every night, I would be a poor performer if I didn’t recognize my audience.” You take a last sip of your drink, placing it on the bar for the bartender to take it away as you thank them with a smile.

Nanami feels his heart race. He didn’t know he had come so much to the point that you recognized his face. He thought he would pass unnoticed on each of his visits, becoming a wallflower that no one would interact with but the bartender. Looks like he was wrong. You of all people noticed him.

He takes a quiet deep breath to calm his speeding heart, his face facing you completely. It could be the whiskey talking, the liquid courage guiding this whole interaction that he thought would never happen otherwise, but he decided to take the chance and say.

“I’ll make sure to get the best seat.”

“I’ll make sure to save it for you.” You answered back, a soft chuckle escaping you.

You take a few steps away from your seat, slower than when you were coming from the stage to the bar. You then turn your head to look back at Nanami, hands coming together in front of you.

“You should get gin if you come next week. We’ll play swing and I find the combination quite wonderful.”

Nanami hums, the smallest of smiles escaping his stoic front as he looks at your polite and fairly demure behavior. He notices the ways your eyes grow shy as you wait for his response, understanding that it is an invitation to come next week.

“I’ll get gin then.” He assures you, his heart beating quite hard now despite the tranquil effect whiskey always has on him.

You smile. A bright smile that could have brightened this dim speakeasy on its own. You nod as you add, “Thank you for the chat, Mr. Nanami. Don’t be a stranger, please.”

And with that, you turn back to the band, a light pep on your step as evident by the way your dress’ fringes jump.

Nanami turns back to the bar, looking down at the empty glass before him and then at the glass you were drinking from. He sees the bartender take both away and asks them for another glass of whiskey as jazz begins to play again.

His feet once more guide him to you, walking through alleyways and empty streets long after the sun had set down with the moon and stars keeping him company. His mind is much quieter this time than the last, now aware that logical questions and should-statements were impractical to ask when it came to this new habit of his.

As he walked on the street that had the downward stairs that guided him to the seemingly unsuspicious door in the neighborhood, he was greeted with the sight of a few police officers who appeared to be heading to the same place as him. They were quite the number and Nanami knew what it meant. The warning that his heart was sending through his veins caused his steps to speed up to the policemen, gulping any sight of uneasiness down before he spoke up.

“Gentlemen, evening.” He bowed his head at them, his tone ever so neutral at this moment as if this were just another negotiation he did every day at work.

The men turn to him, inspecting his appearance before saying a thing. They bow back at Nanami with one of the policemen taking a step forward to him and taking out his badge for him to see.

“Evening, sir. I’ll have to ask you to evacuate the area, we’ve received reports of illicit production and sale of alcohol in this area and we will enforce the law on everyone at the establishment. A law-bidding civilian like yourself should save the trouble of witnessing such enforcement.” He warns, acting all high and mighty with Nanami as if they hadn’t met before.

Nanami takes a step forward to the policeman, digging out his wallet and pulling out a couple of bills that he then keeps in his hand. He smiles politely at the man.

“Officer, I appreciate the warning. I am afraid that there are no such activities in this area. I want to save you the trouble of wasting your time so you can be able to enjoy your evening as well. After all, there is no issue with enjoying yourself, is there not?”

Nanami reaches for the man’s hand, pretending to shake his hand as he places the money in the palm of his hand. To anyone walking by, this is just a citizen thanking and warning the law. To them, it is just business.

The officer smiles at Nanami, hypocrisy slipping through in the smell of cheap beer as he nods. He turns to the rest of the policemen, telling them that they got false input and that they should just head to their usual patrol around the north side of the city. The men bid farewell to Nanami, silently thanking him.

Nanami sighs once they are gone, leaning against the staircase fence. They were the same officers as last week, he isn’t stupid. The condescending tone alone told him that much. He is lucky he has a good job. Otherwise, he would have to buy cheaper alcohol if he kept using his money to bribe the cops away from there.

After a few minutes, Nanami walks down the stairs to the door that would’ve been busted open had it not been for him. Knock. Knock, knock. Knock. Knock. The pattern that is now ingrained in his body makes his heart race in anticipation. He walks in, almost sitting by the bar as he remembers your words from last time when he sees an empty seat for one closer to the band. You weren’t kidding last time…

Nanami walks towards the said seat, still a bit further from the stage since it is set by the wall. But as he sits, he notices there’s a reason why you specifically save this spot. He notices you recognize him, your smile beaming while you’re performing the swing set you mentioned last week. It was a clear and unconstrained view of the singer. No chairs in the way, no paths that others could take that would block the view for either of you, and no light that shone too brightly on either of you that would make it seem as if you were just a flash of light. It truly was the best seat.

But what made it better was the fact that you kept looking at him during your act, catching each other’s eyes without a doubt in mind that it was him you were looking at. No one else.

His heart races, more than it has ever before at this speakeasy. It wasn’t the thrill of drinking his negroni that contained the gin that was so prohibited at the time. It wasn’t bribing the law and breaking it. It wasn’t the girls that looked at him and tried to flirt with him. None of that made his heart race and the drink wasn’t helping ease that feeling down.

As he realizes the reason for his heart practically beating out of his chest that it would have run out of this bar from the sheer force, he looks at you. You, you, and only you as you swirl your pearls around your finger with a soft hum for everyone to hear. Maybe you were just, if not more addicting than the giddy water he drinks.

Nevertheless, there was one important difference. He can quit the booze, but not you.

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mortalityplays · 2 months

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I don't think I've ever written explicitly about my relationship with gender on here outside of when I originally came out and shrugged in the direction of some pronouns. now I have a lot more followers and it's tdov so why not.

I'm genderfluid, which for me means that I identify as both a man and a woman. you could call me bigender, but fluid better fits my experience. I've described this before as being 'not nonbinary but extra binary'. gender is a social construct etc but my sense of self is theatrical and oppositional and articulates itself most clearly in reference to / interplay with a polar north and south. kind of like my aesthetic preference for saturated colours and stark contrasts.

I prefer he/him pronouns. I actually don't dislike she/her pronouns but it is almost impossible to thread the needle of being called she/her without being implicitly degendered. they're a double twist not the default please thank you. they're nightmare mode, mostly for other trans people and strictly invitation only. I quite like it/its, and I tolerate they/them from people who don't know me (but it gives me sims negative moodlet).

I don't have a 'deadname' the way many trans people do. I go by Lee these days because it's nice and ambiguous, but that has always been my middle name. I still love my more feminine forename, but it's sleeping right now. It's in a velvet coffin in a thorn-strangled tower. It doesn't bother me to be associated with old work under that name, but it doesn't represent me right now. don't feel awkward if you come across the signs she left behind. my autobiography is a gothic novel.

this should explain why I use the pen name R/L - flexibility and change are intrinsic to my sense of self and by extension my sense of gender. maybe things will change again, if they do I'll let you know. right now the tl;dr is: Lee, he/him. It/its if you're feeling fancy.

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months

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Random Hobie Headcanons [Prt.1]

me screaming about Hobie Brown just existing like these are just random headcanons of him doing fuck all and chilling but uuhhh this is also so long i had to split it in two parts so this is part one

chronic hobie brainrot u know how it is _______________________________________________

He's actually a fairly high ranking member of the Society

I like to think that Hobie - like Jessica and Ben - has a high ranking position in the Society

Even though he didn't mean for this to happen

Hobie's really good at working with teams, and persuading people. He's been Spider-man for a while, plus he has unique experience

He broke the barrier that 3 spider-people couldn't - sorry Miles you didn't loosen anything

Hobie would probably just ace every mission. In like record time

Miguel and Lyla watching it go from HQ and Lyla's like 'Oh, he's gooodd.'

The watches get a bug and need an update - but low and behold, Hobie knew about the bug and fixed his watch weeks ago. Chumps.

They need advice in taking down a particular anomally and Hobie is the only one with ideas that work -

And sure he may take the piss out of everyone and walk around HQ like he either owns the place or is about to burn it down but they can't tell him anything

He's just that good

I could see him helping out new trainees (and radicalizing them), checking in on every new recruit to see if they have a place to stay.

And Miguel respects that. Miguel isn't heartless, he cares about the society. And even though Hobie isn't doing it for him he appreciates the work Hobie puts in

Miguel probably knows Hobie is friends with Gwen, and that he was the one who stepped up when Jess wasn't

He loves to read

It just makes sense

With all the knowledge of anarchy and stuff, I assume he kinda has to be

I love the idea of Hobie and worn paper-back books that he reads again and again

All well loved, all second (or third, or fourth-) hand.

I imagine he reads a lot of non-fiction, and his favorite genre is history

He doesn't know why, but his brain loves reading about it and understanding the communities that existed in different times

But there are some fiction favorites he has, The Giver being one of them

He donates all the ones he doesn't absolutely need, leaving a sticky note in the front cover with a comment, same way he left one on Gwen's new watch

Hobie is a minimalist in morals

But not like the 'all white-house' aesthetic, but like the 'choosing to live with and on less to respect yourself, people around you and the world'

Everything he owns is second hand, and he likes finding really old cheap stuff, cause it connects back to the history thing

Every couch he's ever owned he's found on a street curb

He doesn't have much clothes, most of the stuff he does have were gifts, or from bands and shows

Instead, he goes to community swap-meets, and swaps his clothes for new ones every couple of months

He LOVES seeing other people in the punk scene wearing a shirt he'd swapped months ago, knowing it's gotten a second life

Hobie genuinelly tries not to throw things away if he can help it. Not in a hoarders way, but in an environmentally respectful way.

If he doesn't want it, he'll barter it away, or gift it to someone who'd like it, or make something new.

Even if something is broken, he'll try to gift it to someone who can fix it than trash it. He'd rather leave his busted TV at the door of a repair shop than a back-alley dumpster

He's low food-waste too

He's like 'Miguel bruv we don't waste empanadas in this house' and takes them for himself

He tries to finish everything on his plate (past survival tactic), but now he'll save it for later. Hobie be tearing leftovers UP.

He makes the choice to not carry money

Connects to the minimalist thing, also an anti-capitalist thing

Hobie doesn't like carrying money. As a personal thing.

Fuck he look like keeping pictures of the Queen in his pocket - absolutely not.

He barters everything he can - and he's good at it. He has an extensive network in the underground punk scene of London, and everyone helps out everyone

Weirdly enough, I feel like if you were dating him he's always ask for a fiver or ten quid or something because he genuinely doesn't carry money or change but somehow he's carrying a rare swiss army knife from 1935

But on the inverse side, if he ever comes across money for some reason, he'll have you 'hold it' in you wallet (just give it to you)

To him, it doesn't matter. He doesn't want to be attached to it. It's genuinely a moral he tries to live by.

He loves cats

He has a picture of a cat on his nightstand in his intro

I bet he has multiple indoor cats

But I also imagine Hobie being really interested and connected in the street cats in the neighborhood he lives and frequents (bonus point if cats are his special interest!)

He names them and knows their faces. Feeds them and checks up on them, tries to take care of them best he can

The ones who get hurt or a little old or weak become boat-cats, and they come live with him

He'll feed them fish from the river - and they always eat before he eats breakfast

None of them have bells or collars, they're not his pets - they're his little friends

He had 'weird' but practical eating habits

Hobie eats standing up.

He'll open the fridge and eat right there. He'll set the bowl on the table then stand in front the TV eating. He goes to the food court and doesn't sit down, just walks about

He's use to eating on the street, so to him, it's comfortable

He grew up going to Gregg or Tesco and eating outside. Grabbing something from the chip shop and scranning it as fast as he can before the rain starts coming down

He actually likes food, and wish he could get more into it - but fuck, he'll never be like those snobs that eat $500 dollar dishes at shitty restaurants

Small routines

In the morning, he takes the boat to the docks. Brush his teeth and get ready for the day

Next he feeds the cats that stay by the water, eating breakfast and playing records

He doesn't make his bed, but he checks all the parts of the boat's engine, just a good once over, and makes sure everything's running right

And then he HAS to say hi to all the people on the docks who know him - old men who'd been working there for decades, delighted when Hobie offered to help them unionize

He always reads before bed too, or on restless nights, he writes songs - practices new songs.

if you read this far, thanks! let me know if any of this mattered at all or if youre like 'sib what does any of this got to do with anything of importance bye have a good day and/or night

#hobie brown #hobie brown headcanons #atsv #spiderpunk #spider punk #marvel #across the spiderverse #spider man #spiderman

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minamorsart · 5 months

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🌌✨The Empyreal Within character designs of Lotor, Allura, and Ven'tar! I might do Honerva and Zarkon next, we'll see! This is part of an upcoming project that I am super excited about and will reveal in time!!! 💜

Explanations of the outfits below! I thought about them a LOT hehe.

18 year old Lotor: these designs I am the most pleased with! Lotor's official design in the show is very different from the rest of the Galra, which I believe is significant to him venturing further away from the precedents established by his father and cementing his own individuality. However, as an adolescent it makes sense that he would still wear Galra attire, hence the bulky armor (to make him look bigger since he is smaller than the average Galra) and red and gold colors which appear to only be worn by the royal family. I like to think that the insignia on his chest is a symbol for royalty, but is also exclusive to Lotor's identity, as no one else wears that particular insignia in the show. And despite wearing clothes specifically chosen to represent the Galra Empire, I can also picture him wanting to incorporate his own personal tastes, so there are accents of purplish-blue (as blue is part of Lotor's color scheme) and the addition of his waist cape, both of which represent his growing desire for change and independence.

Mid-20's Lotor: this is during the many years of his banishment. I imagine him hopping from planet to planet, concealing his identity as much as possible while adopting a more humble lifestyle and pursuing his passion for exploring. It is during this isolated pilgrimage that he does a lot of introspection, self-actualization, and gains self-confidence both as a man and as the Galra prince. But before that happens, the lack of identity really shows in his clothes -- lots of neutral colors (with a hint of desaturated blue), absence of any insignias or designs that would connect him to any culture, whether Galra or Altean. These clothes in particular were inspired by Jedi ponchos and Sasuke from Naruto: The Last, and perhaps are worn while Lotor is on a desert planet for a short time! And just like with his armor as seen in the show, he has started to wear gloves to cover himself up almost completely, indicating his avoidance of vulnerability and getting close to others.

Ven'tar: for her fortunately I didn't have to change much about her character design! She is Lotor's age when they meet and the only other change I made to her was to take away her big cape so that she appears younger. Since her planet and species name is not revealed in the show, I want to come up with one myself. Caelifera is the scientific name for grasshopper, so I'm thinking I could do something with that!

11 year old Lotor: this design is also taken directly from the show, so I didn't have to do much there :P The cloak he wears in the little doodle is inspired by the one adult Lotor wears in S6E4. In this case, however, it is several sizes too big for young Lotor and drags on the ground.

Allura: sadly we don't know much about Allura's life on Altea, however in S1E9 we get to see tiny snippets of different stages throughout her life and her good relationship with her father, so I used those as references! I gave her braids, short puffy sleeves, and a slightly shorter skirt to give her that innocent little princess look, and then used the colors from her dress in the show to create a cuter and more childlike aesthetic!

If you read all of that you're the best 😆🙏 I'm definitely by no means an expert in character design and have lots more to learn, but I had a lot of fun coming up with the original designs! Especially Lotor's, but no surprise there hehe. I studied many different Galra armor and clothing featured in the show worn by Lotor, Zarkon, Honerva, and Galra commanders. More than anything I just really wanted to see Lotor wearing something different for a change 😂 and then everything else took off from there!

#the empyreal within #dawn of empyreal #minamorsart #lotura #lotor #allura #ven'tar #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #voltron art #vld art #my art #fan art #digital art #non star wars art

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chaos0pikachu · 4 months

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So @doyou000me sent me an ask about the film making of Love for Love's Sake (which I have learned is based on a novel and now I'm very interested in reading it lol) so having watched the currently available episodes the big thing I noticed was the shows use of Aspect Ratio.

"In simple terms, the aspect ratio of a movie is how wide the frame of the movie is versus how tall it is, usually expressed as a ratio. For example, most TVs and computer monitors are 1.77:1 (more often expressed on consumer packaging as 16:9), which means the screen itself is 1.77 times as wide as it is tall. The higher the first number in this ratio is, the wider the screen will be." (source)

I know, nerd math.

Basically you know those black bars you sometimes see on the top and bottom of the screen when watching a film or tv show? That's a director filming in a specific aspect ratio:

(source)

Film makers use aspect ratios in a ton of ways, there's a lot of examples out there from Hateful Eight (Quentin Tarantino), and Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan) where the former used aspect ratio to invoke the film making style of old westerns, while Nolan used a taller aspect ratio for fight/action scenes to give the scene more physical impact.

A recent example that I've seen that I think applies really well to Love for Love's Sake is Marry My Husband:

See how the first scene has black bars above and below? The director is using a different aspect ratio than in the second shot (these are both taken from ep01). What does this signify in the story?

Flashbacks. Flashbacks in Marry My Husband are always filmed in a different aspect ratio than scenes in the "present" storyline of the show. Perfect Marriage Revenge also uses aspect ratios this way.

Love for Love's Sake does something similar but instead of flashbacks it uses aspect ratio to denote between "worlds".

The game world is filmed in a longer aspect ratio than the "real" world which is filed in a different ratio (not a standard full screen but it does have a taller ratio than the game world):

This, so far, has been consistent in the four episodes that are out. We have another return to the "real" world in I believe ep03 and we see this same aspect ratio dynamic.

Another thing I noticed is the "real" world's color saturation is much higher and warmer than the "game" world, but it's also (ironically) much more enclosed - this could honestly be a story choice or a budget issue - and boxed in. Something I don't see discussed a lot in terms of cinematography in BL is the use of Lines and Shapes in film and how they add to the composition of a shot.

I really like this video on the subject though it focuses mostly on animation it's still relevant:

youtube

Now if you look at the "real" world scene in Love for Love's Sake we see that the protagonist, before we even know who he is, or anything about him, is in a highly saturated room, warmly lit, but also boxed in:

The warmer saturation denotes a sense of intimacy, which makes sense in a bar setting, but the boxed in frame around him gives us a sense of tightness, tension even, maybe a sense that he feels trapped. We later learn through dialogue he's unhappy with his life and unhappy with the way the novel story he read has played out.

Then, when the scene transitions into the "game" world, the protagonist is in a different aspect ratio, the color grading is now more desaturated and has a higher blue hue to it, the character is also in an open space and filmed front forward facing instead of from behind:

This all works well because the audience knows, even before the character does, they are in another "world" and its very different from their own. It creates to specific aesthetics which help set the worlds apart from one another.

For more on color theory, this is one of my favorite videos on the topic which has more to do with like, hue and saturation rather than "the blue curtains mean xyz" which is a singular and narrative heavy way to focus on color theory instead of how color adds to the tone, emotion, and world building of a piece of media.

youtube

I think the first episode of Love for Love's Sake is the best filmed of the episodes so far, the budget starts to chip away in other episodes but I do want to give them their roses b/c they do work within their budget well. There's a lot of interesting visuals used especially with the game pop ups that I really like, and some nice camera work. The editing is a bit weak at times but there's been some good choices too.

I also really liked the scene with Yeo Woon running and how his feet lit up and how that aligned with his affection points going up. The editing for that was well done.

So yeah, those are my film making thoughts on the show for now lol

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

#love for love's sake #kbl #chaos pikachu speaks #spot my kofi some coins if y'all like these posts lmao #also love for loves sake is cute as hell I'm into it #its a bit slow but last episode picked up and it's very charming #chaos pikachu metas #also if you wanna have a fun time watch any video on transformers the last knight and learn how to NOT use aspect ratios lmao #god that was such a frustrating thing to witness #Youtube #pikachu's bl film series

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todomitoukei · 1 month

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I went through the old chapters where Dabi and Ujiko are included to take a deeper look at the relationship between these two.

Did you translate the conversations between the two of them into chapters 221 and 222?

I find the way Ujiko speaks to Dabi in the English translation strange. I'm curious if that's really how he expressed himself in Japanese. If I remember correctly, it seems to me that you translated a line of Ujiko's related to Dabi and it sounded less strange than in the English version. That one with "Dabi, you've got sharp eyes!" or smth like this

Hi there!

I only translated that specific line way back when Ujiko and AFO being involved in Touya's backstory was just a theory (long time ago).

I also did a translation of chapter 350, where Ujiko tells us that part of Touya's backstory, which also features a short conversation between the two.

Going back to chapter 221 and 222, here's a breakdown of the parts before the "good eye", starting with this part in chapter 221 (the first two speech bubbles can be found in the other post I linked above)

「そうじゃ違うんじゃこの子らは中位下位とは違うじゃよ～

最上位（ハイエンド）じゃよ

より「マスターピース」に近付いたスーパー脳無じゃ！

凄いじゃろうこれまでとは違うんじゃよ！！！」

「そう ; sou 」 = so 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「違う ; chigau 」 = different 「んじゃ ; nja 」 = explanatory particle 「この ; kono 」 = this 「子ら ; kora 」 = children 「は ; wa 」 = topic particle 「中位下位 ; chuuikai 」 = middle class, lower class 「とは ; to wa 」 = quotation particle 「違う ; chigau 」 = different 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「よ ; yo 」 = emphasis particle 「最上位 (ハイエンド) ; haiendo 」 = High End (the kanji mean the most upper class) 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「よ ; yo 」 = emphasis particle 「より ; yori 」 = than 「マスターピース ; masutaapiisu 」 = master piece 「に ; ni 」 = directional particle 「近付いた ; chikazuita 」 = approached 「スーパー脳無 ; suupaa noumu 」 = super nomu 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「凄い ; sugoi 」 = amazing 「じゃろう ; jarou 」 = right 「これまで ; kore made 」 = until this 「とは ; to wa 」 = quotation particle 「違う ; chigau 」 = different 「んじゃ ; nja 」 = explanatory particle 「よ ; yo 」 = emphasis particle

＝"That's right, they're different. These kids are different from the middle and lower class ones~ It's a High End (top tier). It's a Super Nomu, close to a masterpiece! Amazing, right? It's different from anything up until now!!!"

You best believe he chose the word masterpiece to piss off Touya here on purpose. Unfortunately, and maybe on purpose, we never get shown Touya's facial reaction to that, and he most likely played it cool on the outside, while on the inside wanting to set the whole place on fire.

The next little bit of dialogue between the two occurs in chapter 222:

「ならば荼毘にはハイエンドのテストに協力してほしいのう！！

趣味が！！審美眼がとても合う！！接しやすい！！」

「ならば ; naraba 」 = in case; as for 「荼毘 ; dabi 」 = Dabi 「には ; ni wa 」 = directional particle 「ハイ��ンド ; haiendo 」 = High Ends 「の ; no 」 = possession particle 「テスト ; tesuto 」 = test 「に ; ni 」 = directional particle 「協力 ; kyouryoku 」 = cooperation 「してほしい ; shitehoshii 」 = want you to do 「のう ; nou 」 = explanatory particle (adds emphasis) 「趣味 ; shumi 」 = preference; liking; taste 「が ; ga 」 subject particle 「審美眼 ; shinbigan 」 = aesthetic sense; sense of beauty 「が ; ga 」 subject particle 「とても ; totemo 」 = very 「合う ; au 」 = to fit/match 「接しやすい ; sesshiyasui 」 = easy to deal with/attend to

= "As for Dabi, I want you to test out the High End for me!! (Good) taste!! Your aesthetic sense matches a lot!! It will be easy for you to deal with it!!"

Obviously, in retrospect, knowing that Ujiko would have turned Touya into a nomu too, the "matching aesthetic sense" line feels even more rude now.

And finally Touya's response:

「話聞いてンのか」

「話 ; hanashi 」 = story 聞いてン ; kiiten 」 = to listen 「のか ; noka 」 = question particle

= "Are you listen to my story?"

The 'story' being him just a second prior to this having said he will go off on his own since he is in the middle of recruiting someone (don't do it!).

#dabi #translation #222 #221 #bnha #mine #ask #lov

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moongothic · 3 months

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To be honest I can kinda see how having a hook instead of a hand prosthetic has its benefits

Hook is easier to mantain than a hand with lots of small moving pats, especially when you don't know shit about it. If something happens to it and it gets broken, it's much easier to replace a hook, even with all layers and poisons

And depending on when in time Crocodile lost his hand he may have just got used to it already

But also yeah, Crocodile is just the type of guy to choose a hook instead of a new hand because looks and aesthetics lol

(sorry for typos btw)

Crocodile's hook is kind of fun because it's a reflection of so many things in the story. Like there's the in-universe lore and character stuff we can look at, but also we can look at it from a meta perspective

Like we know Oda wanted to give certain important characters in the story the Iconic Pirate Traits; the peg leg for Zeff, the hook for Crocodile and an eyepatch he has seemingly been saving up all these years for a special someone (my money's on Mr Burns but that's a different subject). And so Crocodile having the iconic hook is a part of an old pirate-y "vision" Oda wanted to fulfill with One Piece, an OG "goal" from waaay back in the day

But another thing is that Crocodile is very much from The Olden Days of One Piece, more specifically, very much pre-what I'd call the sci-fi era of OP. I'd say One Piece started truly dwelling deeper into that genre and its tropes during Punk Hazard, but Oda didn't even really dip his toes into it until the CP9 Saga (with the introduction of Franky and the namedropping of Doctor Vegapunk). Sure, Oda did already hint at the existence of Vegapunk and his scientific developments back in Alabasta (when Miss Merry Christmas explained that Lassoo was a gun that had eaten a Dog Dog Fruit, this being "the Latest Science from the Grand Line"*), but One Piece was still very much in its more classical fantasy element/genre at this point in the story, so the science fiction that was to come years and decades later was not even present at this point

*(Thinking about it, honestly, how the fuck did Mr 4 get his hands on Lassoo if Lassoo was created by Vegapunk?? Was he a gift from Vegapunk/the WG to Crocodile, maybe????? That Crocodile just secretly gave away to Mr 4????)

In other words, in hindsight it might seem odd Crocodile wouldn't have taken advantage of his position as a Warlord and gotten a prosthetic arm to replace his hook. But Crocodile is a One Piece character from a different era in the story, when advanced prosthetics, cyborgs, robots, clones and so much more were nothing but a twinkle in Oda's eyes. So expecting Crocodile to have lived up to the sci-fi future One Piece wasn't originally going to even get to would be unreasonable.

But the fun thing is that we can actually look at Crocodile and his silly little hook, and spin it in a way that does actually complement his character. We can find in-universe reasons for him to have stuck to a hook over an advanced prosthetic, and they make sense. The most obvious would of course be that Crocodile does not trust anyone. It would be very much unlike him to go to Vegapunk and/or the World Government requesting to be given a prosthetic, because that would mean 1) Leaving himself vulnerable for a period of time so that Vegapunk could actually give him a prosthetic (dangerous) 2) Knowing the WG they would not just give out something like that for free, surely they'd want something from Crocodile in exchange. And, while we know what would become of Kuma eventually (a fate so cruel I'm sure even Crocodile could not have imagined) I'm sure he could have suspected the WG could want to use him for a science experiment or two, something I'm sure Crocodile would never have agreed to. Or maybe the WG/Vegapunk would've wanted Crocodile to pay them an obscene amount of money in exchange for a prosthetic, and/or have him do some other favors. Whatever the case, I'm sure none of these options would have seemed worth it in his mind.

And yeah, what you said.

Maintaining and taking care of a hook would be easier, like if Vegapunk's prosthetics ever broke or malfunctioned for any reason Crocodile would have to make a horrifically long hike all the way from Alabasta to Marijoa, cross the Red Line (to be fair his Shichibukai Status would allow him to go over which would be more convenient than passing through Fishman Island), go to Punk Hazard (or Egghead later on), and then hike aaall the way back to Alabasta again. And Vegapunk's inventions didn't always work as intended, the man had to refine and develop his creations to get them to work the way he wanted them to.

So if the option get a prosthetic was ever brought up to Crocodile by the WG like 10+ years ago, he might've been far more cynical about Vegapunk's ability to actually create a decent prosthetic that worked and wouldn't malfunction/have issues etc. And as you suggested, by that time he probably would have become used to his hook, to the point that he didn't mind keeping it.

And yeah, it would be just a big ol' Luffyism if he preferred the giant, golden, gaudy-ass hook

#Moon posting #Asks #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #To be fair as a sharp pointy thing the hook IS good for intimidating people.#Like the size of it is pretty inconsistent as is the height of Crocodile in the actual art but in theory #Like. The size of just the base of that hook is fucking massive (and indeed the base is great for pludgeoning people too)#It just. Like the hook just works for Crocodile (because it's Crocodile) and I love that. Like the writing is so good there

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thestobingirlie · 1 year

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Somewhat tangentially related to that other ask but I wish fandom would just acknowledge that Eddie is also bully in his own right and just because he's antagonist towards jocks doesn't mean they deserve it by virtue of being jocks (no matter how much fandom likes to pretend it's warranted because Eddie is bullied himself- this is nowhere near canon and I'd go so far as to say it goes against canon if we're basing it off of Eddie's own behavior) and beyond all that; like the other asker and yourself said Eddie isn't just antagonizing jocks! He openly scorns band kids, geeks and pretty much everyone that isn't his specific brand of nerd which is not about academics so much as nerdy interest like fantasy and "non-conformist" music.

I put that in quotations because Eddie is actually probably the one that buys into the whole high school hierarchy spiel more than any other character on the show; by setting himself up as such an anti-establishment non conformist (all within the high school setting mind you we see nothing to make me believe his ideals go beyond that setting and it makes sense to me considering he's a Peter Pan archetype stuck in a state of arrested development- but I digress) because he sets himself up in such a way that his entire persona is built off of the abject refusal to adhere to societal expectations he's by and large helping to perpetuate them. He's cosplaying this attitude more than living by it because the societal norms still very much dictate how he views himself and how he approaches others.

Ironically Steve is the real deal in this regard by shucking what others expect from him and living his own life the way he wants it divorced from the excepted norms he used to let dictate him as late as mid s3 while changing the things he didn't like about himself behaviorally while still retaining his core personality and interests without the need to revise himself fully.

But because he doesn't have an alt style or interests that go against the mainstream, fandom refuses to see him in this light. He also doesn't let his new friends change his own interests nor expect them to change theirs for him.

I guess this rant makes me sound like I don't like Eddie but I do! I think fandom Eddie is entirely separate from canon Eddie however, to the point where his only recognizable qualities are his interests and aesthetic. Fandom really seems to martyr him in that regard and fully drink his kool-aid which is hilarious because it's largely performative with no substance lmao (even the "woe is me hunt the freak huh 🥺" falls flat narratively when a whole ass dead girl was found in his home).

I think the duplicitous nature of his personality and his hypocrisy (while still fully being a good guy! If you ignore the whole uh selling hard core drugs to a 17/18 year old girl who clearly never did them before thing) I think it's this dual nature and slightly shady actions while still having a caring heart and good intentions is what makes him a good character and we don't get to see that hardly ever with the way a laaaarge portion of fandom worships at his freak alter.

god, beautifully written. i agree with every single point. honestly, you anons just know how to word exactly what i’m feeling.

yes! eddie pretends like he rejects societal ideals, but he just reinforces them to the next generation. he’s built his life on being the freak, he plays it up to get attention, and to rile up his classmates. i honestly think eddie won’t know who he is post high school. which is, like you said, ironically the way the fandom tries to portray steve. but we see that he’s much more secure in himself and his life than eddie. does he have everything figured out? of course not, he’s 18!! but he knows a hell of a lot more than eddie.

but because he isn’t a nerdy outcast, the fandom would have us believe that he actually hates his life and who he is, and secretly doesn’t want to be a jock. fanon steve is honestly way more like canon eddie than i think the fandom wants to admit.

(and yeah, chrissy is found dead in his home. people aren’t just witch hunting eddie for no reason lmao)

all this is what makes canon eddie an actual interesting character!!! and the fact he (and steve) are entirely stripped of these characteristics is one of the reasons that i just can’t vibe with the fandoms rendition of steddie.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #asks #anon

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borderlinebox · 1 year

Note

hello!!! i really liked your childhood best friend reader x Chishiya. may i request Chishiya x f!(or gn how you want)reader headcannons where reader have y2k style( gives me overdressed girlfriend/partner x underdressed boyfriend) thank you so much!! feel free to ignore it

Chishiya with a Y2K-Style Reader Headcannons!

A/N: I absolutely love this idea of a request! Its quite intriguing ^^

Pairing: Chishiya x Reader

Warning: not proofread!, a lil short

Feedback is highly appreciated!!!

it really depends what y2k style you got since there's some things like grunge y2k and that other preppy style

but generally y2k? chishiya admires the fact you have a unique aesthetic choice

cause you don't normally see somebody running around in the borderlands looking like you just got ripped off an old yet iconic 2000's magazine

but chishiya has to be honest,

being overdressed in the borderlands is a pretty big disadvantage

unless of course, y'all are in the real world..

then he absolutely supports you

with a bit of teasing of course

like he'd spew some weird 2000's fact and somehow connect it to your outfit

maybe sometimes you would convince him to try out your style

he said no

but then you put some of your clothes on him

and then he kinda liked it

but he'd never admit that, come on

but just expect some of your smaller or least used accessories to disappear

maybe even ended up on his wrist

oh, how did it get there?

if you have these 2000's light makeup styles,

he'd honestly let you put some on him.

especially eyeliner and occasionally mascara

i dont know, he just seems like a very light makeup or eye makeup boy to me

if his eyes weren't cocky enough then shit you made them condescending

take pictures of him

chishiya would outwardly say he hates it

but he internally loves all the compliments, praise and affection your giving him

would not do poses for you

but you'd probably say he already looks perfect

he would learn how to braid or style your hair if you want

arisu and the gang (real world where y'all are friends or borderlands) would be so confused and shit

cause there's chishiya with his white jacket and some black shirt he found in his closet

then you come in looking like you just won a fashion contest

he really doesnt mind your style at all

chishiya wouldn't care about what era your closet is in

he'd still be supportive

(okay back to the borderlands)

if you managed to keep your y2k sense of style at the beach

then respect

also can y'all just imagine??

some random person tryna flirt with you

because they think you're hot as shit

but then you shoot them down

"im with somebody and you're not my type"

or you can just stay silent and give them signals 'no'

and then chishiya comes in

looking basic asf-

joke. he honestly looks good

but he just isnt as overdressed as you

and then imagine niragi if he ever tries to get it on with you

and then chishiya would come in again and simply and quite literally whisk you away

in no under a second

"can we go to our room, n/n?" (n/n means nickname btw)

and then he leads you away while niragi is just standing there, defeated.

of course niragi's pissed off

and chishiya has his signature smirk as he walks away from you

i wouldn't say he was jealous at the time,

he just wanted to prove a point to niragi

but all in the end,

chishiya loves you for what you do and who you are

as cliche as it is

thats the truth

#alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #aib #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro x reader #x reader #box writes #chishiya #chishiya headcannons #headcannons #headcanons #chishiya headcanons #aib headcannons #aib headcanons #alice in borderland headcanons #alice in borderland headcannons

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theteasetwrites · 9 months

Text

The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon | S1E1 Thoughts

Okay I am gonna list all my positive and negative thoughts regarding each episode (I know no one asked but I feel like this is the only thing I am somewhat “qualified” to talk about ad nauseam on here).

⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️ do not read below the cut unless you’re okay with spoilers

Positive Thoughts

Norman’s acting is so good like?? Listen we all know he’s not Laurence Olivier and he doesn’t claim to be but goddamnit he nails the subtleties of Daryl’s expressions and conveys his emotions really well I think! I’m very impressed

Daryl hot

Obviously the cinematography, setting, and aesthetics are really cool. It’s both gritty but pretty!! I love the gothic architecture and how OLD everything looks, which is only exacerbated by the apocalyptic feel

Everyone in the cast is so good in terms of acting (well, I mean… Laurent is certainly there but he’s a child so we’ll be lenient)

Daryl hot

The walkers are great as usual. I love the burners. Really interesting! I’m kind of wondering if the “experiments” the people on the ship refer to relate to the burners? Maybe they’re making them like that idk.

I love the religious imagery. We have had cults and stuff in TWDU before but I don’t think we’ve had this Catholic vibe going on. I’m a sucker for anything nun related because I have a weird infatuation with them, so I’m all for it.

DARYL BATHTUB SCENE??? They put that in for the girls and the gays and we are LIVING for it

Daryl hot

Daryl is so reminiscent of early seasons TWD era with his witty lines and snark remarks. I feel like we don’t get to see this side of Daryl very often anymore, but now that he has his own show and is THE main character, we get to see those sides that have been neglected again. I also love how much he sort of scoffs at the nuns and their religion. Atheist Daryl we love to see it

It’s cool seeing people in France dealing with the same things our characters have dealt with since the beginning. It’s interesting to see these new parts of the world in this universe for sure

Daryl hot

I honestly just love thinking about how when Daryl gets home he is gonna have such a crazy ass story to tell everyone! It’s gonna be so cute to see him telling all the kids about how heroic he is and ugh yessss

Daryl deserves his own show. He deserves to be THE main character. People who said he can’t lead a show? Nah. Reconsider

I also love that Daryl MIGHT potentially save the world. Cool asf. And if anyone from the original series should save the world, I think it’s him.

Daryl hot

Negative Thoughts:

Okay. I have some very petty/subjective critiques. I realize a lot of you guys probably disagree with me but that’s okay! Don’t read my negative thoughts if you aren’t prepared to be annoyed with me lol. Once again, a lot of these are super petty/nitpicky

First thing that bothers me is that Daryl says he is from the Commonwealth. No. He is from Alexandria, thank you very much. Well, at least he should be. He should’ve been living at Alexandria imo but the finale didn’t really make it explicitly clear where he was living in that year time jump. Basically I just hate the Commonwealth because I have zero attachment to it and it’s just a stupid ass place that I wanna forget about

Daryl seeing Carol in his haze 🙄 … just annoys me solely because Carol annoys me. They could’ve just shown Judith because that would’ve made more sense to me. But don’t get me started, I don’t even want Carol in season 2. Anyway.

Laurent isn’t terrible but he’s kind of annoying in that “I’m so smart I know everything” way. Just very annoying smart kid at school who everyone hated vibes. Plus I just don’t think it’s realistic that he would be THAT smart just from being raised in a convent of nuns

I also fail to understand what they’re doing with Laurent. Is he just some kid that the nuns think is the messiah or is he ACTUALLY the messiah? Like are they gonna throw in a whole other supernatural religious element? Because Laurent conveniently knows Judith’s line from the finale “you deserve a happy ending too.” Right down to the letter. I find it cheesy as hell because I’m so tired of these blatant in your face parallels that are trying to be clever, which always involve children too like we get it children are basically the duck tape of TWDU. Don’t know what to do for this plot? Throw some kids in there!

Neither Positive nor Negative Thoughts:

I don’t trust the nuns. I think they’re gonna use Daryl to get what they want and they don’t really care about getting him home. Worse, I think it could be possible that Isabelle won’t let him get home. She already tried to keep him from using the radio. I’m not saying I hate her character or anything (I actually like her so far… as long as she stays friendly and not… overly friendly), I just think she’s way too invested in this “messiah” stuff to actually care about Daryl so I fear she will take advantage of him. We shall see.

Ok, those are pretty much all of my thoughts!

#twd: daryl dixon #the walking dead: daryl dixon #the walking dead

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residentrookie · 9 months

Text

heyyy so here’s an @jegulus-microfic prompt from september 13th that i never got around to posting :D

9/13 prompt: water; wc: 950 (the one where jegulus has an elevator meet cute :))

It’s 7 in the morning and Regulus Black is royally fucking pissed off.

He has a right to be, in all fairness. Anyone has the right to be pissed off when their alarm never goes off and instead they wake up to the sound of water leaking through their ceiling, dripping out a staccato rhythm on the wooden floors. He’d had enough time to kick a metal mixing bowl under the stream of water and send a strongly worded email to his landlord before he had to rush away for work, already half an hour late.

The elevator creaks now as it descends to the ground floor, just one more thing that needs fixing in this ancient fucking building. He should have known not to rent out such an old apartment, but the wooden floors and incredible view from the massive windows in his living room had ultimately swayed him. This is what he gets for choosing aesthetic over someplace practical.

“Have you heard about the leak on the 14th floor?”

The voice behind him makes Regulus jump, sending his phone clattering loudly to the floor. Before this exact second, he’d been clueless to another person being on this elevator with him.

“Holy sh—” he smothers his curse and turns his head in time to catch the stranger bending down to retrieve the phone that had landed near his feet.

“Sorry about that,” the stranger laughs, dimples fully on display as he straightens. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you knew I was here.”

Regulus blinks and recognition quickly floods his brain.

Oh god. It’s him. Elevator Guy. The hot tenant that lives somewhere above Regulus, seeing that he always stays on after Regulus reaches his floor. Every time Regulus found himself in an elevator with this man he was immensely grateful for the plethora of reflective surfaces so he could look and look as much as he pleased without ever being caught. God, the dark eyes, the broad shoulders, the way he so often leans up against the railing with his hip, headphones dangling from his ears…

Regulus comes to his senses, realizing he’s staring like an idiot. He reaches to take the phone that’s still extended to him.

“It’s… fine.”

They’re talking. They’re actually talking and it’s the one fucking morning that Regulus doesn’t have his shit together. Right now is the only time they’ve been in this tiny metal chamber together that Regulus hasn’t planned out a script in his head just in case they happen to bump arms or go for a button at the same moment. Something witty or dry, just short enough to make the stranger want more.

“So… the pipe?” Elevator Guy asks, his face looking more concerned the longer Regulus continues to stare blankly. “Apparently they sent out a memo to let us know a water pipe burst.”

“Yeah I got that memo in the form of water pouring from my ceiling,” Regulus replies darkly, realizing too late he probably sounds entirely off putting. The stranger doesn’t seem to mind, instead shaking his head.

“Shit, that’s unlucky.”

As are so many things this morning, it seems.

Regulus sighs, facing forward to stop himself from ogling the poor man. “That’s what I get for living on the 13th floor.”

“Oh?” the stranger asks and Regulus is quick to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, they’re uh, supposedly haunted. And the ghosts in this building seem to take their jobs very seriously.”

The stranger laughs, drawing Regulus’ eyes back to him in time to see his whole fight light up with his smile. “Oh my god, they really do. My bathroom door literally never stays shut. Like I’ll intentionally close it at night and by the next morning it’s wide open. I swear it’s like some kind of paranormal anomaly, but my parents just think there’s a draft I don’t know about. Maybe I’m the crazy one.”

“You’re definitely not,” Regulus interjects with a frown. “This building is like 150 years old. Sometimes I lay awake at night and wonder how many people have died in my bedroom.”

Fucking hell, Regulus sounds like a freak. He’s blowing this, he is totally blowing this.

“Mm. Probably dozens,” the stranger replies with an easy smile. Regulus notices suddenly how close they’re standing and tries to stay still, savoring the proximity. “But I bet there’s hundreds of them floating around this whole place, causing mayhem where they can. Or I don’t know, maybe they’re benevolent ghosts,” his eyes slide over the Regulus. “Maybe I should be thanking them.”

Regulus is incredulous and more than a little flustered. “T-thanking the ghosts? Why?”

“Because I’ve been trying to get you alone in an elevator for months and that pipe bursting is the first thing to make it happen for me.”

He’s not, he knows he’s not, but Regulus might as well be in a fucking freefall down the elevator shaft. That’s what it feels like anyway, like his stomach has bottomed out and all his organs are rising up to his throat, the swooping sensation nearly overwhelming.

Before Regulus can begin to fetch the fleeting thoughts from his absent brain, the elevator dings, a signal that it’s reached the ground floor. The stranger steps out easily, like he hasn’t ripped the rug right out from Regulus’ feet. He turns, a sly smile on his face.

“I’m James,” he says. Then he holds out his hand. Regulus, in a haze, nearly takes it, but before he can, something small and white is dropped into his palm. He looks down with a startled blink.

“My number,” James provides. “In case you didn’t believe me before, I’ve had that in my pocket for almost two months now.”

#i LOVE a meet cute #and i was feeling wholesome the day i wrote this so :)#i also love writing a flustered and pining regulus black #like on the outside he’s all 😐😒😕#but on the inside he’s 😍🥰😫#i love his duality #anyway hope y’all liked this one it was a short one #jegulus #jegulus microfic #my writing #reg’s writing tag

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