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controld3vil · 7 days

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chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to jessica ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

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http-finnick · 1 year

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𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬 - 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: as finnick sneaks back into your cart during the victory tour, you start to pity him as he wraps his arms around you, knowing that this is all for the captiol and none of it is true...at least not for you.

cw: almost one-sided love, katniss and peeta trope, no smut, and lots of crying.

with how the trains speeds you feel as tho you're flying, laying in your bed with the new weather outside your window. yesterday it was snowing, now it's spring.

the silk bedsheets mold your skin as you lay there, regretful.

a hand snakes under and up to your abdomen, the scent of musk heavy on your nostrils as he pushes himself closer to your back.

he sighs once he has your touch back into his grip and you stay put, hoping he falls back to sleep.

it was a mistake, letting him back into your bed again.

it wasn't like you two did anything..it's just for the nightmares. but still.

he thumbs your shoulder softly, brushing the finger on your body to test your awareness, you feel his eyes on your neck.

once he gets no indication of your conciseness, he dips down to lay a soft, quick kiss on your neck.

it makes you shiver, a little fever sparking in your spine for that moment. it wasn't forced for his own excitement, it was a little good morning for you.

and that just makes it worse.

you pretend to flutter your eyes and he quickly sinks back into the silk sheets. you sit up and drowsily grab a towel before walking towards the bathroom that's connected to your cart.

you eye him as you take tip-toe steps, as if not to wake him. but you catch his lips flashing a soft smile before forcing down into a line.

you sprint into the bathroom and turn on the shower as you feel your chest heavy with breaths. you lock the door and sink down as you choke on air and have tears rush out of your eyes

he loves you

he loves you so much.

your mind brings you back to Annies sobs and pleas for you to return finnick to her, safely. to bring her love back.

I wonder how she felt seeing you brush his hair back in the arena before dipping down to kiss his puffy lips.

I wonder how she felt when 'her love' came home with a new love.

you confessed to him on the train that it was a lie. your love wasn't real and you watched him fight back tears while putting on a sad smile

"it's okay, really"

that's what he told you when you turned to look back out the window of the train car. you knew it wasn't your place but your cloudy mind thought it was a good idea

"fin...um...Annie was talking to me before the games and-"

"please. I don't want to hear anything about annie cresta."

so you both sat in silence as the train brought you back to four.

and now, on your victory tour with the capitol and everyone breathing down your neck, you realize that you will never have a life without odair being next to it.

you can't help but claw at your chest with sobs as the shower spits water at you, because finnick takes this as a chance, a chance for you to love him.

but you would never give yourself that chance

not with that promise you gave to annie.

and not with that vow you gave to yourself.

an: I might do a part 2 for this, katniss and peeta trope is such a good one I just had to make some angst for it. I hope that you guys liked it even though its short :( I'm sorry I cant do super super long ones, I just write when I can and post right after lmao. Also my babies!!! We got to 70 followers! I love you guys so much, when I started this acc I didn't think anyone would still be around for thg content, but you guys came through and made me love the fandom even more...I love you guys so much! mwah!

part 2

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rosesbxrry · 1 year

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Gingerbread

Pairing: Boyfriend! Jake X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship! AU

Warnings: Dom! Jake, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, heavy food play, fellatio (blowjob), throat fucking, making out, slight ass spanking, dirty talking, riding, slight slut shaming, Jake calling you a bunch a pet names (baby, baby girl, slut, doll, good girl), breast worshipping, praising/ degradation. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Gingerbread cookies; sweet and warm, perfect for the Christmas season as the smell overwhelms your shared apartment with Jake. However, what seems to be an innocent baking activity you spent with him for Chirstmas Eve turns into something more delectable than the confectionary.

A Holiday Special: ➜ Jake

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Sunghoon |

Main masterlist

Word count: 3,911 words

a/n: This was suppose to be posted 3 days ago but of course, in true fashion, I was late in writing it in time. I’m sure the mood for Christmas is already over but I’m determine to finish this as soon as possible (while enjoying writing it for u guys too). This would also be the second last fic for the holiday special so I hope u guys enjoyed it and Happy New year!

There is something special about the Christmas holidays that is imbued with a magical aura of warmth and happiness. It's a month filled with festive food, decorations, songs, and movies that overwhelm you with nostalgia.

You and Jake decided to celebrate the season together this year instead of choosing to be with your families and relatives separately. The plan was to spend Christmas Eve bundled up with blankets and matching pajamas, watching a bunch of movies on the couch while eating an unhealthy amount of snacks until Christmas morning.

What initially begins as an innocent trip to the supermarket becomes a spontaneous shopping spree for ingredients to make gingerbread cookies. You weren't sure how the both of you ended up with that idea, but it proved to be regrettable further into the baking process.

Jake is an awful baker (Jungwon would vouch for that), while you were manageable as long as the recipe was concise. Still, the odd pairing of each other's ability in the kitchen was bound to end in a mishap, which led to the scene of two people staring at a tray of cookies in the oven, hoping that it won't burn like the previous batch.

By some miracle, you both persevere until the end; Jake places the last batch of perfectly baked cookies onto a drying rack while you whip some of the decorative vanilla icings to be placed on top of the confectionery.

The large window of your shared apartment displayed the amount of time that has passed, the city night below illuminated as the moon and stars became the sole residents under the dark sky. Only a few windows appear lit at the blocks across, indicating the vacancy of the vicinity during the holidays.

"We should never do this again next year." Jake groans beside you, pulling on his flour-stained apron around his waist. You chuckle when he plops down to rest his elbows on the kitchen counter, his chin on a palm while mindlessly in a daze with exhaustion on his face.

You nudge at his side playfully, but he doesn't budge like a statue.

"Did it take you that long to realize?" You said, gripping the whisk handle a little harder to work the powdered sugar and milk mixture together.

He shook his head, and his wispy bangs followed his movement. "I knew the moment the first cookies looked like they belonged in the toilet."

His deadpan response caused you to snort in amusement.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't want to ruin the mood."

He leans down to your level to snuggle his chin on your shoulder, his nose slightly buried in the sweater you were wearing. A slight tilt of your neck to the side caused a bump of your head with his affectionately, continuing to work on the icing while he watched.

"Well, when I'm done, we can cuddle on the sofa while we wait for the cookies to cool down. How does that sound?" You murmured.

Jake nodded his head, but his chin clung to your shoulder, so you had to stifle a smile at how adorable he was. He looked like a puppy silently begging for his owner's attention but couldn't because he wanted to be a good boy and patiently wait for you to be ready.

You've been dating for two years now, and you could interpret by the glint in his eyes when you suggested the offer that he was in dire need of some intimacy.

Once the consistency of the icing satisfied you, the next step was to divide it into different bowls for the colouring process. At the same time, some of the icings had flown out of the mixing pot onto your index finger, which you instinctively brought to your mouth to lick it off casually.

A disgusted grunt left your mouth, causing him to look at you curiously.

"It's too sweet." You declared. "I think I put too much powdered sugar."

Jake watches your face and eyebrows scrunch up in annoyance, smacking your mouth as you inspect the flavour to find a solution to save it. His gaze was attentive on your lips, swallowing down the desire in his throat.

"Can I have a taste?"

"Sure, baby," You said without a second guess, reaching out to grab a teaspoon for him to use. "Let me just take—"

It took you by surprise when he grabbed your wrist before you could leave while his other hand held your jaw, bringing you closer to his face to kiss you. His plump lips capture yours as you close your eyes to relish how he moves to deepen the kiss.

He tasted like warm bittersweet chocolate; the kisses candies he had a few hours ago still lingered.

You reach out to cup his face, feeling his breath fan the high points of your cheeks. Jake tilts his head to the side, his movement firm as he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you close to his body as you moan softly when he bites at your lower lip.

He licks the nibbled area sensually, signalling you to open wide to let his tongue slip past the cavern of your mouth, caressing your taste buds as you share one breath with each other at the heated moment.

It made you wonder if he could taste the icing in your mouth.

Jake slowly loosens the connection, taking one last lap at your puffed lips before moving away. Through lidded eyes, you watch him tuck the cushion of his bottom lip between his teeth; laboured breathing fills the space of intense silence.

"If I tell you a way not to waste the icing," He whispered close to your lips, hands sliding up the ends of your sweater. A soft sigh escapes your mouth when his calloused fingers smooth your stomach. "Would you be down to get a little dirty with me?"

Your cheeks burned at his suggestive offer— imagining how sticky the substance would feel gliding up and down on each other's skin, especially when it would be his veiny and large hands stroking the cream filthy across your whole body as you writhed under his lubricated touches.

You almost moan at the thought of rubbing the icing on each other's private areas.

Something throbs in you at the obscene act, an arousing feeling that makes you tug his hair on the back of his neck to press his body closer to yours.

You didn't need to verbalize the agreement; your action speaks louder than words as he smirks against your jaw, pulling at the strings of your apron on your back.

"Then let's take off our clothes, yeah?"

One by one, articles of clothing slowly piled on the kitchen floor, stripping each other naked until you realize how chilly the winter night felt biting your bare skin. However, the moment Jake's lips kissed you eagerly again, you felt the flame blooming inside warming you up.

Jake mouthed sloppily, his tongue darting back and forth in your cavern forcefully as his nose bumped against yours. You hungrily push back, saliva collecting under your tongue that it was impossible not to make erotic wet sounds as the kiss turned messy.

"Ahhh— Jake," You whined, throwing your head back when you felt the icing on his hand grope your breast.

He had quietly gathered the sweet cream in his hand, smothering it on your chest in a circular motion. He smears some on your hardened nipples, feeling yourself melt when he fondles the nubs with his slick thumb with the right amount of pleasure.

"Look at you, messy girl." He cooed. "Why don't you do the same for me, hm? Can my girl make me nice and dirty?"

Slick was beginning to drip from your folds, the idea of food play turning you on more than you thought. You scope up a decent amount of cream on your palm before spreading it across his toned torso, and Jake immediately groans at the sensation.

"Jakey, you're so hot." You drawled.

You drag your hands up to his chest, grazing on his nipples as his hips jerk at the contact, breathy moans escaping his deliciously puffy lips. His bangs had fallen to cover the upper half of his closed eyes into an enticing view.

With a covetous gaze, you gradually draw your touch lower past the dips of his hips before you rub his hardened cock, letting the icing coat his length deliciously.

"Nghhh— fuck." He let his head fall into the crook of your neck, his abdomen tensing up as you started moving your hand up and down his thick and warm cock.

Precum drools down from his head before it mixes with the cream, the mixture becoming agonizingly slippery against the underside of his pulsating veins as you fasten your pace, craving more friction to satiate his carnal desire.

Jake's panting grew heavier against your skin and watching him completely crumble made you itch to ruin him more. A shaky moan slips from his throat, catching your wrist in a tight grip when you tease his swollen slit with your thumb back and forth, shuddering at the sudden pleasure shooting through his spine.

"Shit— fucking tease…." His muffled accusation tickled your collarbone, whine an octave lower through gritted teeth.

You wanted to laugh, but it died in your throat when one of Jake's hands grabbed your ass from behind. The harsh squeeze he had on the ample flesh got you whimpering in either pain or pleasure; at this point, you weren't sure anymore.

"My cute girlfriend thought she could tease me and get away with it." He said, his nails slightly digging into the skin.

You wince at the prickly sensation but respond while feigning innocence. "You look like you enjoyed it, so I didn't want to stop."

You gasped when he spanked your ass with enough power, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed throughout the space. You curl your toes in anguish as the stinging pain becomes waves of immeasurable pleasure. An incoherent moan poured out, your pussy clenching in its juices as you buck your hips with mouth agape at the way your clit was throbbing uncontrollably.

It was an unexpected impact, enough to make you squeeze your shaky thighs together.

Fuck, that felt so good you almost came.

"Naughty girl thinks she can talk back now." He whispered directly into your ears, kneading the tender flesh with a satisfied look at your state after wearing his temper thin.

The sticky residue of the cream did nothing but accentuate the desperation clawing in your stomach.

"Should I occupy that little mouth of yours with something sweet? It looks a bit too empty." He kisses the underside of your neck, grinding his wet cock with icing against your stomach to show you what he means.

"I thought I couldn't have dessert without dinner first?" You challenged him sweetly.

Jake's chuckle is almost sinister, finding your taunted response amusing, although he already gave you a taste of punishment. Of course, you would use something he used to say against him at this moment. You love to do it to rail him up even more, and he also finds himself enjoying it.

"I'll make it an exception this time." He baited, licking his bottom lip in anticipation. "So stop being a brat and get on your knees for me."

You slowly descend to rest your weight on your knees on the kitchen tiles, kissing his bulbous head after wrapping your hand around the base of his lengthy cock.

Jake leaned on the edge of the countertop, and lusty moans rambled in his throat when you took the tip in your hot mouth, tongue swirling around the slit to dart at the sticky mess.

He tasted sweet in your taste buds.

"You look fucking sexy down there, baby girl" He gathers your hair lightly, watching you from above with a dreamy look. "How does it taste? Good?"

"It tastes amazing…." You mumbled, leaning an inch lower to take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking at the tight and heavy sack like a treat while looking up at him with big and innocent eyes. "Wanna taste you some more."

The visual of your lewd face and the sensation of you slurping his balls like a lollipop— his eyes rolled back at the pleasure, chewing at the inside of his cheeks as his length twitched and grew agonizingly hard.

Jake took a fist full of your hair at the back, and you let him guide your mouth to take him, eyes squeezing shut as he pumps his dick in and out of your mouth. Your hand held onto his thighs for support, letting him hit his head at the back of your throat.

"That's it, eat it up. Fucking take all of me in." He hissed.

The force of his hips pistoning your mouth with his cock had you collapsing into a teary-eyed mess, but you persevered— bobbing your head to match his rhythm, suctioning to take more and more of him into your mouth.

Every time he thrust in until your nose was flush against his pelvis, you ran your tongue all over his length— tasting the sweetness of the cream with an undertone of his bitter precum.

Jake let out a frustrated growl, needing more stimulation to reach his high.

"Open your throat, baby girl— let me fuck it."

You whimpered as he scraped his fingers harder on your scalp, mercilessly fucking your throat until the corners of your mouth spilt with the filthy mixture obscenely. Trying hard to relax your jaws and cheeks, you fought the urge to gag over his cock and squeeze his thighs hard as every inch of him was seated in your mouth.

You were deepthroating the living daylights out of him, and Jake loved every second of it, his climax nearing its peak.

"Swallow my cream like a slutty girl, got it?"

His filthy encouragement only made you moan, and as soon his hip staggered with one final hard thrust, he came into your mouth. His hot seed spilt down your throat, swallowing the liquid with the remaining facial strength you had to spare.

His grip on the back of your head softened, watching you drink up his cum as he held the base of his cock to milk out whatever he had left.

"Fuck, such a good slut cleaning up her mess." His praises filled the silence. "She deserves to come on my cock, don't you think?"

You hummed eagerly in response as you licked every inch of him sloppily— the way you knew he enjoyed it.

Jake thought you looked breathtakingly hot as he pulled out to smear his sensitive tip on your lower lip. A deep flush on your cheeks, chest heaving up and down, a few tear stains evident on the corners of your eyes, and figure weakly slump down on your knees, soiled with residual icing.

He tugged you by the arms to help you get on your feet. As he wraps his hands around your waist, you clutch onto his shoulder blades for support, resting your body against his at how weak your knees were.

Jake gently snuggles on the crook of your neck to mumble close to your ears. "How would you like it? From the back? Or the front?"

"Wanna ride you." You breathe out.

He grinned like he had expected that answer. "Had a feeling you'll pick that."

Jake hauled his body onto the kitchen countertop, pushing away utensils that were in the way. With whatever miracle, he manages to manhandle your exhausted body up on the marbled surface, letting you straddle him as he lay flat on his back.

It was an awkward position— his long legs dangled at the end with some visible remnants of the gingerbread baking situation left. Still, the way he gripped your hips to situate your pussy on his cock, rubbing your folds over his length, had you clawing at his chest.

"Oh my god." You cried out, seeing stars as you rolled your hips harder, his cock rubbing hard on your cunt as the wetness started pooling on your inner thighs.

The knot in your stomach was burning you on the inside.

Jake chuckled darkly with his pupils blown out below you, albeit shivering at the overwhelming stimulation after just coming.

"My good girl wants to use me like her personal fuck toy after I stuffed her mouth full with my cock, right?" He huffed out, rapturously gazing at how you moaned at his words. "You want that, don't you?"

"Jaeyun—" You choked out when your clit made contact with his hot length so deliciously that you began humping him desperately like a dog in heat. Your pussy was clenching around nothing as the sensation made you dizzy with desperation, thighs burning at the fatigue.

"Fuck, I need you. Please." You begged.

"I know, baby girl." He whispered slowly. "I need you too."

With one hand kneading your ass to lift you slightly in the air while the other gripping his shaft, he lines your slit with his tip and probes your entrance to let him in.

"C'mere and ride me."

With your pussy already drenched after sucking him off, Jake easily stretches you open as you descend his cock. The noises that came out your mouth were music to his ears, your gummy walls clenching around his girth so tightly as he buried himself deep inside your cunt.

"So wet," He rasps, absolutely enamoured by the bliss overwhelming his body. "Move for me, baby girl."

You start by bouncing lightly, palms resting on his chest as you move your hips. When you lift all the way up, you make sure to sink back down until his cock fills you to the brim. The pace was begrudgingly slow, still adjusting to his size as you moaned softly with every thrust.

"That's it, doll." He said, thumb circling the apex of your hips soothingly. "You're so pretty— so perfect for taking me well."

Your pace was getting faster and rougher, face flush at the way he poured sentiment words to fuel you up. It caused you to tighten your walls around him, making each drag of his cock going in and out of you much more gratifying.

Jake soaked in your lovely features, his eyes moving down to watch your boobs bounce with the movement of your hips. Your tits were nice and hard— lusciously erect, urging him to twirl the nub between his fingers teasingly until you cried.

It didn't help that some icing was still on your breast, dripping down when it mixed with your sweat. Jake had to bite down hard on his lips to prevent himself from melting on the spot.

Call him juvenile, but it turned him on beyond reason at how pornographic the scene was, his slit dribbling out with more precum inside of you.

You didn't understand the power you have over him, crying and choking in your speech as you grind over his cock shamelessly with your hands around your cute tummy.

"Wanna taste this pretty set of tits." He said, and you pulled your legs apart as he sat up to fill the spot between your legs.

He licks the swell of your breast before taking a nipple into his mouth, engulfing the peak with moist kisses and suckling. He kneaded the flesh tenderly with his other hand, flicking the other nipple with equal attention.

"So sweet," He hummed, switching to the other pebbled nipple to tongue it as your mewls grew louder, rocking your hips to his pace. "My pretty girl tastes so good in my mouth."

The lapping of his lips on your nipples had you hissing at the intensity, especially when he was still balls-deep in you.

His lips let go of your nipples after abusing the tender flesh, returning to lie down on his back, but this time, he made sure to keep your legs wide open, the sole of your feet resting on the surface for him to see your hole stuffed with his cock.

"Ahhh—hahh–Jake–" You whined, leaning back to rest your palms on his thighs to balance your body. Although it did make you redden at how exposed you felt in this position. "Fuck, Jake. I can't— too deep….."

"I know, baby." He reassured you, holding your ankles to keep you at bay at his side. "But I need you to keep bouncing on my cock. My good girl can do that for me, right?"

You nodded obediently, rolling your hips back and forth to continue fucking your slit with his cock. Your pace faltered with each minuscule movement of you going down on his dick, but Jake took this opportunity to thrust you up sharply to meet you halfway.

"Not yet," He groaned, noticing you show signs of slowing down. "A little bit more, baby."

The loud and wet clapping of your ass hitting his thighs echoed in your shared apartment, and your face twisted in ecstasy when he took charge and slammed his cock into your sweet spot. He rammed the spot continuously, splitting your pussy open thrust after thrust.

There was a reason why Jake needed you to be in this position; having access to play with your swollen clit as he pounded into you from below was sure to morph you into a blubbering mess.

"So, close." You buck into his fingers when he thumbs your bundle of nerves, the knot in your stomach is keen to burst into millions of pieces as he switches between circling and tapping your clit with precision.

"Jake– Jakey, please fill me up." You break into a fit of sobbing, rolling your eyes back.

Jake sighs in desperation as well. "Wanna see you cum, baby." He did everything he could to keep you high in the clouds with pleasure— his hips and fingers never ceased even for a second, utterly devoted to making you undone. "Wanna fill this sweet pussy nice and full with my seed."

His voice coaxed the earth-shattering orgasm that ripped your body into shreds; the view of the ceiling was the only thing you see when you throw your head back when you come on his cock.

Jake took a few more thrusts before he released his milky load into your cunt— your brain could barely register any ounce of rationality in your brain, body going limp as he rode your orgasm steadily.

You lay down on top of him, feeling him pull his cock out to let his cum drip out of your tight hole. His hands found themselves around your body, pulling you into a sticky pile of embrace with him as you basked in the relief washing over you.

You felt completely raw and fucked out that you could barely keep your eyes open. It was warm and sweaty, so different from the cold winter that prevails outside.

"Jake," You swallowed, breathing through your nose as you tried to calm your beating heart.

"That was…."

"Intense?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Amazing."

His chest vibrates as he laughs, kissing the top of your head affectionately as pride swells in his heart at how spent you looked.

The smell of cinnamon slowly wafted through the kitchen, reminding the two figures that they still had dozens of freshly baked gingerbread cookies that needed to be decorated.

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

@forjongseong @skzenhalove @duolingofanaccount @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays @archangelaurii @hwihwi0o0 @won-shine @stnkyash @yoursjaeyun @hooneam @jjhmk @pshchives

A Holiday Special: ➜ Jake

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Sunghoon |

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lassieposting · 2 months

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So on the back of my headcanon about the Prototype more or less raising CatNap, I've been watching someone play Project Playtime for the first time, and I'm fucking yelling

If you play as the monster, the Prototype literally teaches you (as Huggy Wuggy) how to hunt. He's the one giving the tutorial instructions.

And honestly? The vibe I got from that "interaction" is that Prototype likes children. More than that: Prototype is good with children.

Project Playtime takes place in the intervening decade between the Hour of Joy massacre and the start of the main game. Based on the fact that Huggy needs the Prototype's guidance, it's probably fairly early in that period - he's not used to hunting for himself yet. So Huggy here is a monster with limited intelligence - he's the most 'animal' experiment we've seen, though he is still able to write - and the soul of a child.

And the Prototype tailors his lessons appropriately. Like, I trained to work with kids, and he uses essentially the same approach I would to teach a young or special needs child a new skill.

Simple Instructions: what Prototype is teaching Huggy here is, at its core, strategy and tactical thinking, and that's a subject he seems to understand well and know a lot about. A more intelligent experiment - like, say, young CatNap - might ask a lot of questions, and Prototype could probably give them long, in-depth explanations of why doing X thing prompts Y response or why Z tactic is useful. But Huggy isn't on that level, so Prototype keeps his instructions and explanations short, concise and easy to understand.

No Guesswork: Huggy, described as having only "sufficient" intelligence post-transformation, likely has limited capacity for complex thought. Where CatNap might be encouraged to think ahead for himself and suggest problems that could arise, Huggy would struggle. So Prototype gives him all the information he needs: here are the ways the humans will try to avoid or harm or mislead you, and here are the ways you can fight back. He even points out little tips that might seem obvious, like listening for the breathing of a hiding worker, because he knows that might not occur independently to Huggy.

Positive Reinforcement: When Huggy successfully incapacitates a human player, Prototype laughs and praises him, treating a potentially upsetting conflict like a fun game. Once Huggy has gotten rid of all the human players and won the match, Prototype tells him he did a good job and that he can rest now.

The Bad News Sandwich: One technique I was taught for dealing with young children is that when you have to give them upsetting or disappointing news, sandwiching it between two good things limits the distress it will cause. And Prototype does this twice with Huggy:

[Praises Huggy for catching a player and putting him in the food chute] [warns Huggy that the other players could try to rescue their friend] [offers a way to stop them doing that]

[Praises Huggy for clearing out the factory] [tells Huggy that more humans will return] [reassures Huggy that for now, he can rest and relax]

Anyway. Prototype taught at least one child-aged experiment to fend for itself and defend the factory: confirmed. And so, scenarios I'm now picturing with Prototype and little CatNap: this

youtube

I'm also 👀👀👀 at the fact that like. While it's directly stated that while his main motive for having the experiments attack the Project Playtime workers is to stop them making more creatures, he's got a secondary motive in that he's using the Bigger Bodies mascots *to gather food for the smaller toys*. The larger toys may have become hostile towards the smaller, weaker, "prey" toys, but the Prototype seems to be at least trying to provide for them, albeit in the only fucked-up way available to him.

Anyway I just think that's really interesting considering he's been implied to be the game's ultimate Big Bad. I think there's more to him than we've been told

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime meta #poppy playtime headcanons #experiment 1006 #the prototype #huggy wuggy #catnap

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blossomthepinkbunny · 8 days

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Vivzepop will always be the biggest issue with her own show if she doesn't change. And i'm not saying that because I desperately want to shit on her but rather because it's so clear that her attitude is what made Hazbin Hotel be so dissapointing after the long wait. The pilot released four years ago and Viv had these characters for much longer than that. One could assume that with this much time on her hands she would have a concise plan for how a series of her story would play out (I can imagine that having an own show is a dream for lots of creative people out there). And I get that that plan might get screwed up by a shorter episode count then expected, but she should be the one who knows her story best and who should know what stuff could also be cut out. The first season of Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly overstuffed with characters and plot that it completely looses the main premise the show was originally pitched with (the idea of a hotel were sinners are redeemed. As it is now the hotel is really not important at all). People have talked endlessly about how Viv can't handle criticism and it really sucks because criticism is one of the best ways to improve your writing, drawings, music etc. Without criticism you won't refine the thing you're working on in a meaningful way. Of course it feels bad when you put something out there you wanted to share and then people critique it, but that's part of pretty much every creative journey, or atleast it should be and Vivzepop shouldn't get a pass from this just because she doesn't like it. And there are great shows, movies or books that are rarely or almost never criticised. But the artists behind these works probably went trough years of honing what they do by being criticised for the stuff they put out. And I don't want to say that Vivzepop didn't work hard to make Hazbin Hotel, but it is hard to claim that she improves in her craft, when everytime someone says they don't like her show she throws a hissy fit. She wants the same reactions that these other amazing pieces of media get without ever listening to criticism. Which she sees as a personal attack rather than a tool that could help her to achieve the same level of writing prowess the creators behind media like that have. She believes she is already on the same level as them, just because she basically shuts anyone out who disagrees with her. There's this clip at the end of a Drew Gooden Video which I think sums up the situation with Viv pretty good (the Video is called "Leaving the YouTube Bubble"). He is talking about Lily Singh and her talk show but I feel like a lot of the stuff he says about handling criticism applies to Vivzepop as well.

(you might have to turn up the audio).

Unprofessional behaviour like that might be excusable when the creator is pretty young or they are interacting with publicity for the first time really. But neither of that applies to Viv. And Hazbin Hotel isn't just an indie animation pilot on youtube anymore. It's now a fully realized show created with a pretty prominent studio on a major streaming network and it should be held to the same standards as other shows or movies alike (not saying indie animation or animation on youtube doesn't have a standard but with more budget and support, there's obviously going to be different expectations for the show now). There have been issues in Helluva Boss and the Hazbin Hotel pilot ever since their release which could've been handled with more time and the new show. But Vivzepop shows time and time again that she isn't willing to listen to people who criticise her, which could actually lead to her show getting better. I don't like Viv or her work a lot. I think she is incredibly unprofessional and she has done her fair share of questionable or problematic stuff, which often leads to issues in her shows. There have been some characters I like, some songs or scenes that were pretty well done, very cool animation and an actually interesting premise on paper in HH and HB. There are things that make me come back to these shows to watch the next episode. And i'm obviously passionate enough about these shows to make whole posts about what I think was done badly and what could be changed. But for the aspects of HH or HB I enjoy, there are soo many more problems I have with it. Problems that won't go away unless Viv stops seeing every criticism as a personal attack. Because if Vivzepop doesn't stop acting like her writing is some unreachable stuff that needs no changes I don't really see a point in assuming that these shows will ever get better.

#vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #i dont support vivziepop

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deafsignifcantother · 13 days

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the baby

♥ summary: almost loosely based off of this by @ukor02. This is really just a small little writing thing I did at 4am. ♥ relationship: no direct romance really, just some cute stuff between Lucifer and reader. ♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ notes: no childbirth mentioning and this is written like just as summaries of the situation tbh, almost like a bullet point format without the bullet points, the entire cast are characters, hospital scene, I made Alastor a main character and her main bestie because of course I did, reader is happy to be a mother

You wanted to give your baby a chance to get into Heaven, even if it meant they'd leave without you. Hell is no place for a child. Both you and Charlie knew that.

"What a pleasant surprise," you sign to Alastor when you see that damn smiling demon right outside your hotel room.

He laughs; aw, you're describing his arrival as pleasant. Did he make a good impression on you when you saw him last when he introduced himself in person in Pride Sign Language? You never seemed to have paid any mind to him, giving one motion signs as responses whenever he tried starting a conversation. But even when you interacted with him like that, he couldn't help but wonder why you always looked at him with your sweet, shy gaze. It's not on purpose, which is the worst part.

Pleasant, you called it a pleasant surprise.

"It's good to see you too, my dear!" He signs, bowing a bit and pushing past you into your room. "What have you been up to?"

What an obnoxious question.

You close the door, squeezing the doorknob tightly. This is going to be a long evening. When you turn back to Alastor, he's in your living room examining the decor, your random art pieces taped to the walls and organized together, though not concisely.

He waves his hands. "I love what you've done with the place."

"I've been bored." You sign with a slight nod to yourself. It's awfully isolating, which is obvious. Still, it has never hit you as hard as it does now as you watch another person walk through your chambers.

"I'm glad I can be in your company then." His smile widens, and the static he emits gets heavier. His ear twitched a bit, which you noticed but tried not to directly look at. Was it a good or bad thing?

"But it's often relieving to be alone," you start and look him up and down.

"You're quite used to being alone, aren't you?"

Your lips tighten, your hands stiff, and you are unable to finish your sentence. Absentmindedly, you rest them on your plump, pregnant belly. Alastor does his best not to let his eyes draw down to analyze it. Still, his head tilts, even just a little. He hates looking at your hands when you touch your stomach. Did his mother hold her belly like that when he was inside of hers?

"Don't you have others to talk to?"

"They're out on their little journeys, you know them."

"Of course."

Alas, he lets his eyes trail down to your stomach. It's not quite full, but it's obvious enough to gain attention from others. Charlie will put her hands on it every day, waiting for the baby to show its presence. She can feel the heartbeat, and so can you and Vaggie, though everybody else can't feel a thing. Alastor refuses to put a hand on your stomach. Life is precious and loud, and the few who were never human understand that differently than the others.

"I wanted to check in on the baby."

A twitch of your eyebrow makes his smile widen.

"Why?"

The day before, Lucifer arrived.

You try on your best clothes, laying them flat against your front, looking at your belly in the mirror. For the king, should you try to hide it or show it proudly? He has a daughter, but does that affect his thoughts about Hellborn pregnancies? Gosh, what do you have to worry about? So stupid.

With the other people, your new friends, you stood with your head proud.

He swirled with the dragons and hugged his daughter as if he hadn't seen her for years. What a kind man, unusually kind. His eyes... Those soft, precious eyes. And when they landed on you, your heart almost stopped. He looked at you as if you were an angel. When his lips started to move, the smile you didn't even know you wore faded.

Charlie put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. And there came Alastor, saving the day.

"The idiotic king was just telling you how happy he is for you." With the signs came the grinding of his teeth.

Lucifer approached, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He addressed Alastor with aggressive hesitance. 'Tell her...' he said.

Charlie smiled excitedly, Nifty kept nodding, and Sir Pentious's eyes started tearing up.

Alastor grimaced. "He's asking if he could feel your stomach."

As always, you've put a thorn in the flow of interactions.

Still, you put on a smile. "Of course."

And there you stood, the King of Hell's hands gently holding you. You could feel the cold of his touch even through the fabric of your shirt. The heartbeat vibrated through both your body and his. The baby was alive and well; you could tell through the pure glee that spread across his face. Beyond your tiny ounce of worry, you knew he'd find hope within your baby.

Alastor watched with a terribly strained smile.

"Why?" You ask again when he doesn't answer. "What's with the sudden worry?"

"Worry? No, no." Alastor waves you off. "More like..."

You watch with interest as he trails off, a vulnerability you love.

He squints his eyes and clenches his fists, but only for a moment. His lack of vocabulary kills him. "...Intrigue."

You crack a smirk. "Are you finally gonna feel my stomach?"

Another pause. Alastor considers it, but all he can imagine is his claws accidentally drawing blood.

"No."

"That's okay." Again, your hands rest on your stomach.

Alastor has been watching it grow, but so has Lucifer. Charlie's father scarcely visits, and you've convinced yourself it's to see you. Every time he enters the hotel, he asks how you are. He tries to lift his hands to sign but finds no words forming. A language was created in his world, and he has yet to learn how to learn it.

Whenever he presses his hands against your belly, he can feel the liveliness of the soul forming inside you, and he can feel your appreciation at his care.

Begrudgingly, he always has to ask Alastor for advice on communicating with you. Alastor always has a cocky smirk when he teaches.

Charlie has to ask Alastor for help, too, but more willingly. Alastor raises his chin and squares shoulders when people ask him for help. Charlie went to him for help on a conversation you knew she was going to start with you:

"You're not going to stay here for the battle."

"I know." There was no argument on your behalf. Charlie's cheeks still went pink.

"But I have to figure out where it's safest for you. Alastor told me Cannibal Town, but uhh... Maybe not."

"They'll all be here anyway. Maybe they'll distract the angels from going over there."

Her bright eyes widen a bit. "Do you think so?"

"I can stay over there, even if they try to eat me." They won't, and even if they try, they know Alastor would end their lives, don't they?

She fiddles with her fingers before lifting them up again. "I suppose..."

She's so quickly convinced it's cute. You're right, though, of course. Cannibal Town might be the safest place, specifically under the hands of Rosie, who Alastor had previously told you would be more than willing to help you. You can imagine her smile at seeing your belly, twice the size as when Alastor first told you about her. Unbeknownst to Charlie, he's been planning this for a while.

Your stress for their safety irks you more than you expected.

You place a hand on Charlie's, lifting your other one. "I'll be okay."

Before you left for Cannibal Town, you met Lucifer once again, a more loving side of him. He cradled your head and held the back of your neck as he did. His cold body felt like warmth to you. He whispered things to you; you could only tell from how his breath constantly brushed against your ear in sing-songy waves. Was he singing to you? A lullaby? He pulled away and finally signed to you. "You're going to be a great mom."

A moment before, Alastor finally put his hands on your belly. His hands were warm. Like Lucifer, he was whispering to himself, holding silent words from you. In another life, you'd imagine they were prayers. At that moment, only an instinct, you put your hands on his, and he allowed it.

The stress of their safety worsened when they were left alone in Cannibal Town without a word of winning or losing.

The winning of Hell was all you wanted to focus on when you noticed the contractions getting worse, spaced out in purposeful ways. Oh goodness, you found yourself thinking, oh my God.

What if Lucifer dies on the same day your child is born?

But after the battle, he was right there to cradle the baby in his arms, his heavenly grasp relaxing the tiny baby. The rest of the group sat in your room, Sir Pentious absent, tears in their eyes at both the birth and the death.

Beyond Lucifer's cradling, Husk was the only one who touched your child that day. He placed his furry paw against the baby, feeling the body heat that they admitted. Life could be beautiful, he decided.

Vaggie's sense of revenge deepened. She sacrificed Heaven to save a child, and now she's even more than willing to kill her sisters to save yours.

While Charlie stares at your baby with tears, Alastor smiles warmly at you. He knew you could do it: birth something beautiful and worth protecting.

Your eyes are locked on Lucifer. He's an amazing, supportive dad to Charlie, and your heart begins to swell. Your heartbeat increases, and a blush weakly forms on your already flushed face. His rough hands hold a forgiving softness. He's beautiful.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #lucifer #alastor #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

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mothdruid · 5 months

Text

The Physics of Love- Part Two

series masterlist | prologue | part one | part three

pairing.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader (nickname Nova)

word count.

2.8k

warnings.

kind of fluff, insecurities, swearing, mild sexual content, this content is meant for those who are 18 and older.

authors note.

bob did it! he asked nova on a date finally!! i figured since i'm writing this story so broken up, i'll upload it as a 'series' still, but it'll be more like an anthology. i've been best with writing a lot in concise order. so this is the best you're gonna get from me.

“How’d it go?”

Bob looked over at Mickey, a confused look on his face. Bob knew exactly what Mickey was talking about, obviously. He had told Mickey and Nat, but not the rest of their friend group. Who were all currently sitting at the table in Jake’s house.

“How’d what go?” Jake asked.

Bob looked away from Mickey, now realizing that everyone was focused on him. A rosy tint covered his cheeks now with the spotlight in him. Bob took his glasses off, setting them on the table. He ran his palms over his face, anxiety immediately starting to bubble. There was a reason that Bob didn’t bring up his dating life. It wasn’t that he didn’t have one, it was just limited in a sense.

He grew up in a small town in North Carolina. A limited amount of people lived there, and most other people his age weren’t interested in the things he liked. He kept to himself for the most part, not getting his first girlfriend until college. Which only happened thanks to the help of Mickey and Javy. That only lasted a few months, like every relationship he had been in. They all ran the same course in his mind. Meet, date, fuck, leave. It didn’t help that with college, it seemed like everything had a time limit on it.

“Bob here had a little date the other morning,” Natasha teased from the kitchen.

It was their monthly dinner night. The one night a month that all of them made sure to reunite. Since graduating college they had limited time together. They made sure to do this though, not wanting their friendships to rust and potentially crumble.

“A date?” One of Jake’s eyebrows lifted.

“No, it wasn’t a date,” Bob corrected.

“No?” Mickey asked.

“No.”

“Then what was it?” Jake questioned before taking a drink from his beer.

“I tutored someone,” Bob answered.

Jake looked at Natasha and Mickey with a certain look. Bob slipped his glasses back on before explaining more.

“Professor Coleman told me that he has a student that needs tutoring. Said he thought it’d be a good graduate opportunity for me, so I agreed to do it. And that student just so happens to be female, who needs help with a subject that I’m good at.”

"Ooo, I didn’t realize you were into the whole student teacher thing,” Jake quipped, smile plastered on his face.

“I’m no-”

“Oh, Professor Floyd, I need all this help, pretty please,” Mickey mocked. He posed outrageously a few times, trying to appear flirtatious.

Bob rolled his eyes, deciding that this was his own personal hell. Just as he was about to respond the doorbell rang. Bob quickly got up, heading to the door and away from the dining and kitchen areas. Even though he wasn’t in the room, he could still hear Jake and Mickey going on about Bob’s, apparently, new teacher student kink. Behind the door was Bradley and Reuben, Reuben holding two nice bottles of wine.

“Thank god,” Bob muttered.

“What a greeting,” Bradley said with a confused smile.

Bob shrugged not exactly sure what to say.

“Is Jake being Jake?” Reuben asked as they stepped in.

Bob closed the door behind them. He took the bottles from Reuben, allowing for Reuben to take his coat off.

“Mickey and Jake are bein-”

“Hey!”

All of them jumped a little bit. They all turned to see Natasha in the archway to the kitchen. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

“What the hell took you two so long?”

“Well, Reuben took forever to decide on a wine.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said no reds,” Reuben chimed in.

“Yeah, cause reds are gross,” Bradley said.

All of them made their way to the kitchen. Bob was beyond thankful that Jake and Mickey had stopped their jokes about Bob’s tutoring. The dislike for red wine continued as they got into the kitchen. Natasha and Bob got their own glasses of wine while everyone greeted each other. Eventually, it was finally reinstated that Reuben was the only person who actually liked red wines.

“You guys are just so uncultured,” Reuben joked.

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to call me uncultured,” Mickey pointed a finger at Reuben, “my culture is very different from all of yours.”

All of them erupted with laughter. They all got settled, now only waiting for Javy to show up. It was going to be a little late for that, Javy informing them earlier about the last minute emergency that came into the clinic.

“Seriously, Bob, how’d the tutoring go though?” Jake asked after a sip of beer.

“It was, it was good. She’s bright, doesn’t give herself enough credit.” Bob explained.

“Freshman?” Bradley asked.

“No, junior,” Bob replied.

“A junior taking Physics two? Isn’t that a little late?” Natasha added.

“Woe, woe, physics two is what you’re tutoring?” Jake seemed shocked.

Bob took a drink of wine, silently thanking Bradley for making Reuben get a pink wine.

“Yeah, physics two to a geology major.”

“Isn’t that basically their whole degree?” Jake asked.

“No, bagman, it’s not,” Natasha’s tone was stern.

Jake put his hands up, not wanting Natasha to get upset.

“I didn’t mean anything by that, I’m just asking.” Jake was cautious with his words this time.

“Well, however much physics they need,” Bradley started, “Bob’s the man for the job.”

Bob smiled as they all agreed, toasting to Bob and his success with tutoring.

“Check?” You asked, pushing your paper towards Bob.

“Check,” Bob said, his fingers brushing yours as he grabbed your paper.

You leaned back in the chair, heat pooling in your cheeks, waiting to hear that you were wrong. Again.

The day had been long, two classes that morning, then study hall, and now tutoring. Your brain felt fried at this point. And optic equations weren’t really helping. The one thing that did seem to help was Bob though. Ever since exchanging numbers the two of you had been texting.

Was it as often as you wanted? No. But were you complaining? A little bit.

Ever since meeting him you wanted to know more. What was his favorite food? Movie? Where did he come from? Why for the love of god was he pursuing astrophysics for his masters?

No matter what the answers, you would show up to these meetings every week. They had slowly become the highlight of your weeks. Being able to watch Bob work, flipping through pages while writing down equations with no issue. It was oddly captivating, seeing his brain work at such a high level seamlessly. Like a super computer at work.

“Three is wrong,” Bob said, offering the paper back to you.

“Seriously?” You snatched the paper, looking the equation over again.

“Very,” Bob had a small smile on his face, soft wrinkles forming near his eyes.

You sat the paper back down, flipping to the page in your text book breaking down the equation. After pulling up the notes on your computer you another attempt.

“So, why astrophysics?” You asked.

Bob watched you try the problem again, not paying any attention to him when you asked the question.

“It’s cool,” Bob awkwardly answered.

Not a lot of people asked Bob about his interests, aside from Nat and Mickey. Hell, even when Jake asked him about things he got a little surprised. Obviously he was more than a little surprised right now. The cute girl he was tutoring was asking him about himself, how could he not be surprised?

Yeah, he had been texting you, but they were pretty surface level texts. Simple things like ‘when do you have class?’ or ‘hope you have a good day’, and even ‘do you want a coffee today?’. In all honestly, it was mainly you texting him and him responding with surface level answers. He just wasn’t exactly sure what to say or what to do. As much as he wanted to ‘shoot his shot’ as Bradley would say, he was afraid of scaring you off.

“Just cool?” You peaked up from your paper, “That’s it? No other reason?”

Bob noticed a little bit of a playful tone in your words.

“Yeah, kind of,” Bob said with a small smile.

“Well, what makes it kind of cool then?” You honestly just wanted to have a little bit of distraction while trying the equation.

“Space, stars, black holes, rockets, all of it. It’s just really cool.” Bob watched your pencil etch on the paper. “It’s just cool to learn about the things that are hard to understand. The intangible being somewhat tangible? I just want to understand it all more, help others understand it too. Kind of like you and geology.”

You looked up at Bob smiling.

“But geology is tangible,” you joked.

“I’m pretty sure there are things that you can’t touch in geology, like lava,” Bob said. He put his elbows on the table, reaching over to your paper, “Now let me see this.”

“Why, it’s probably not right this time either,” you offered him the paper reluctantly.

“Don’t doubt yourself,” Bob reassured you, taking the paper from you.

“Doubting is all I’ve been taught to do in this field.”

It was meant to come out as a joke, nothing more. But the way Bob face changed almost broke you. It wasn’t a big change, but it was still enough of one. A silence started to hang between the two of you. It felt as if your body was going to cave in on yourself, shoulders drawing closer together as you made yourself smaller.

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize.” Bob’s gaze locked with yours, sincerity in his blue eyes.

“Being in STEM hasn’t been easy on me,” you let out a soft chuckle.

Bob sat there, staring, waiting for you to say something. He adjusted his glasses before you spoke again.

“This isn't anything towards you, cause you’ve been nothing but kind to me,” you crossed your arms and pulled them close, “but my life in STEM has been man after man telling me that this isn’t for me. No matter how hard I’ve tried, easy or hard the subject, it’s been a big fat you’re not good enough. It really starts to weigh on you after a while, why do you think I took physics so late?” The word vomit was followed with an awkward laugh, “Sorry, I-”

“I said don’t apologize, and I meant it,” Bob reached out, offering a hand to you across the table. “I know it might not mean much from me, especially because I’m not in your field, but you do belong here.”

Something had started to well up in your throat, tears pricking your eyes lightly. The muscles through your body started to relax. Your shoulder straightening out a little, arms not held so closely together. The soft shell you had created was dissipating, cracking at the seams. You reached out, taking his hand and focusing on the soft skin of his palm.

“I- thank you, but are you sure? I mean, I can’t even figure out optical equations.”

“Listen,” Bob’s hand squeezed yours, “I can only imagine what people have said to you, but they are all wrong. Like I said, you belong here, probably more than all those people who told you those things.”

His other hand came down to cover your clasped hands, provoking you to do the same. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other and holding hands. You gave him a sarcastic ‘okay’ look, earning you a playful ‘I’m being serious’ look. The both of you broke into smiles while continuing to hold each others hands. A rosy color had started to appear on Bob’s cheeks.

“Have you ever been to the Cranbrook Institute of Science?”

The question took you a little off guard, but it warmed your heart.

“Everyone in STEM here has, but I’d be happy to go again,” you looked away for a moment as warmth filled your cheeks.

A bit of surprise touched Bob’s features, surprised by your answer. He thought it might be a long shot, asking you on a date, but he was hoping that after the last few weeks you’d be up for it. He really wanted to ask you prior to this session, but his nerves got the better of him. The possibility of tutoring becoming awkward would be the death of him.

“Are you sure? Because if you think that would make it awkward or anything, I don’t want that for you. And I don’t want it to seem like you have to come with me or anything. I promise that even if you say no, I’ll tutor you to the best of my abilities.” Bob’s nerves always made him word vomit.

“Hey,” it was your turn to squeeze his hands, “I’d be more than happy to go, especially with you, starboy.”

Excitement blossomed through Bob, the nickname making his heart ache. Most nicknames he earned were full of teasing, and maybe yours was to a degree. But he liked it. It felt personal, something full of love, something he wanted more of.

“Okay,” Bob said while nodding softly.

You squeezed his hands one more time before letting go. The two of you adjusted yourselves, sitting across from each other once again. A smile cracked across your face as you watched Bob adjust his glasses once more. There was a small grin plastered on his lips. He grabbed your paper once again, looking it over.

“Oh, and number three is right.”

It felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Barely balancing on the balls of your feet on each step, you ran up the steps to your apartment. You had to tell your roommates immediately, they would get a kick out of it. Once you got to the door you punched your code into the keypad, hearing the tone of acceptance and unlocking of the deadbolt. You took your backpack off as you opened the door, setting it on the floor as the door closed.

The hard material of the door caught you, keeping you up straight when you fell back onto it. You rested your head back on the door, smile plastered on your face. You couldn’t stop thinking about it all.

The way he had looked at you. Those words coming out of his mouth with a type of shy confidence. Every time he had adjusted his glasses made your heart flutter. God, it was so fucking nerdy and you loved it. The seriousness that took over his face when double checking your work. It was the face you had been dreaming about for weeks.

The dreams had ranged from innocent to devious. Hand holding, cuddles, and coffee dates were some of the softer things, thoughts that lingered for hours after you woke up. Then there were the dreams that had you craving more. Hands on your hips, head between your thighs, and a sensation of being filled up. Those thoughts lingered for more than a few hours. Honestly, those thoughts never left your mind.

“You good?” A familiar voice asked.

You opened your eyes to see Mara and Alex staring at you. They were sitting at the kitchen table, books and laptops open with papers all over the place. You toed your shoes off before lugging your backpack to the table. It made a thump as you placed it on a chair you pulled out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, "a-ok.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, Mara smiled and shook her head.

“Spill,” Mara said.

“Did you guys fuck in the study room?” Alex asked.

“Oh my god, no. Alex why-”

“Tell, now.” Mara demanded.

“I may or may not have a date on Saturday,” you smiled and put your hands flat under your chin, jokingly showing your face off.

“Fucking finally, it’s been weeks since you two started whatever this is,” Alex explained, “the slow burn was becoming too slow for my taste.”

You stuck your tongue out while flipping Alex off, moving over to the cabinet for a glass.

“Where’s it at?” Mara asked in a cheerful tone.

“Cranbrook,” you answered, pulling the water pitcher out of the fridge to fill your glass.

“Of course,” Alex chuckled a little.

“What?”

“It’s just a little,” Alex paused for a moment, “nerdy.”

“Says the one who took your last date to an arcade.” You stated.

Mara laughed and agreed with you. You made your way back to the table, moving your bag from the chair and sitting down.

“It’s a different nerdy and you know it,” Alex said.

“It’s a smart nerdy,” Mara added.

Alex rolled her eyes at the both of you.

For the rest of the night you three sat at the table, working on homework and scrolling through tiktok on occasion. You had explained everything to them, the way he asked you and the time you’d be meeting with him on Saturday. Mara and Alex had been teasing you ever since you started your tutoring sessions. They had both convinced themselves that he was the one for you, so they made sure you looked your best on the day of.

tags:

@wkndwlff

@thedroneranger

@callsign-sprout

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd fluff #tutor!bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x afab!reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob and nova #the physics of love

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just-a-new-gi-writer · 7 months

Note

"Creator Reforged" is (chef's kiss) concise and yet Exactly What It Says On The Tin lmao, big brain! Poor Sucrose in Ch7 tho: she must be traumatised too, for lack of better description.

Oh oh! May I send an ask for the Follower Special? How would the acolytes react to a creator who crochets/knits/sews them various clothes and accessories? I feel like Childe would appreciate (and definitely smugly show off) any scarves or coats you make him lmao??? Liyue has nobles and society stuff, so maybe when Ningguang or the other Qixing wear trinkets/shawls that the Creator made, there'd be similar clothes in fashion? Inazuma and Sumeru seem pretty big on textiles (Silk, Cotton, maybe Wool/Fur?) so would they be smug at their textiles being featured in some of the creator's works??

Also, just a last thing: your writing style ABSOLUTELY gives off shounen light novel vibes. It's honestly perfect for Genshin, imo.

Yeah, no one in that situation is really in their best mind at that point. Albedo, Sucrose, and the reader are all likely not thinking straight. (Hopefully going to get back to work on it soon...)

And thank you for the compliment! I'm honestly not all that familiar with shounen light novels, but I hope that the eldritch/weird moments that undergird party of my writing don't distract too hard.

A/N: Getting back on the wagon. ...And I let myself stray to an adjacent yet (in my opinion) equally interesting version of the Creator. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7k

CW: None?

Masterpost

taglist @iyohme

The night in Liyue was young. Though the furthest edge of the sky still wore the faintest remnant of the day’s glory, the rest of the sky glammered with pearlescent stars, crowned with a nearly full moon, and bounded in the north where an azure comet tugged at the sky as it fell.

Far below these celestial sights, the opulent city of Liyue slumbered, nestled between its towering mountains and perched beside the tranquil sea. Uncountable lanterns burned quiet and low, illuminating the streets just enough so the guards could patrol yet low enough to allow the citizens to rest.

Though the thousand hands of the industrious city lay low, not all of the city was asleep. In the city’s main hall, where the highest matters of state and commerce were conducted by words and contracts, through coins and goods, by bribes and threats, different kinds of activity were taking place. Heads of states, merchants, nobles, and the like from nearby Sumeru, Inazuma, Fontaine, and a few from even further afield, met and socialized with each other. They forged and renewed acquaintanceships, sought new avenues of commerce and trade, discussed and reviewed new discoveries and theories.

The event there was in full swing. Chandeliers with ornate carvings in Cor Lapis diffused amber light across the whole room. People clustered around the room, conversations flowing as freely as the drinks. The front of the hall was dominated by a stained glass relief of the Creator, The Forge of Days. Though no light filtered in through the myriad colors, the veiled image of Her figure seemed to glow with its own glorious light.

Gathered at the front of the room were piles of gifts and offerings. In years past, they would have been iron and copper, silver and gold, crystals with shimmering hues and gems with an unfathomably deep color.

But recently, their Creator had undergone a change of hobbies. The hands of The Forge rarely sat idle, but the items She created would change with her interests. For months, Her hammer and tongs sat idle, Her billows quiet, and Her fires cold. She’d found a new craft to occupy Her hands for a while, and the people followed Her whims.

A different bounty had been gathered tonight at her feet: bolts of cloth in all kinds of dyes and textures, spools of thread in every color imaginable, skeins of yarn that seemed to glimmer with gold spun into their material. These, the people hoped, would gather Her attention and affection enough to be worthy of receiving a gift from Her in turn. Though She chafed at formalities and ceremonies, these She would bear to see Her creations given.

Tonight, there was no shortage of people gathered to show off the artifacts that She had personally forged, crafted, or spun and then given so generously. It was hard to miss the heads of state and important nobles- Ningguang was garbed with plenty of jewelry of gold and amber and topaz. Keqing kept at her side, displayed prominently, a sword forged of impossibly sharp steel and inlaid with awe-inspiring arrangements of Inazuman amethyst.

Few were arrayed so brilliantly as them, but one person stood taller and prouder than both. In the middle of a group of weary and exasperated onlookers, a peculiar Snezhnyy man bragged about and paraded off his new gift. Tartaglia was not much loved by the people of Liyue- connections to the Fatui tended to do that- but showing off the new turquoise scarf generously pooled around his shoulders, studded with constellations of pearl stars, strained the patience of most.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Afong?” Tartaglia chided a merchant who finally had enough of him and tried to leave, “Can’t stand the sight of someone who has one of Her new styles? What do you have, just a tarnished, old bracelet? I think She’d be embarrassed to see that old thing in public! It’s probably for the best that She tosses that dull thing back into the furnace and starts over from scratch.”

A small, timid voice came up behind him, “Tartaglia, isn’t that enough?” He spun on his heel to see who spoke up, the half-adeptus Ganyu. She was carrying a tray of food in her arms which clearly had a wide selection. “You’re going too far with what you’re saying.”

“Listen, Цилинь,” Childe plucked one of the morsels from her tray, something skewered on a wooden pick, “talk to me when Her Grace decides to visit you with something noteworthy. I can tell,” he gestured down to the arm he could see, “that She gave you some pity. I remember hearing about that meager ring She made, Her last product before turning her sights to Her new craft.” He eyed the ring set with an aquamarine gem, then slid his gaze to what sat on her wrist. “But I didn’t hear about that.”

A dainty, delicate work of lace lay barely hidden under her sleeve, like a fine layer of ice had been worked around her wrist. While many would merely overlook it, it contained many curious details the likes of which would only be seen with Her handiwork- notably, the centerpiece of it was a recreation of Ganyu’s vision- frame, cryo symbol, even the subtle cracks and chips were represented through Her handiwork.

“The Forge of Days generously gifted it to me.”

“An early work of hers, probably. Most likely, she made it to familiarize herself with the craft, getting the early failures out of her system.”

“Did Her Diligence make a single weapon for you?”

There was a momentary flash of anger on his face- the first anyone had seen that night. It was quickly gone, but Ganyu had turned and left before she could notice. She heard another conversation haltingly spin up as she walked away, before fading into the noises of the party.

Ganyu left the party, following a familiar path of hallways as the sounds behind her began to become muddled and indistinct under the weight of their echoes. She turned a few corners, passing various shrines placed to honor and venerate the Adepti, mostly, but also the other benevolent beings who shared the region with the city and who helped guide its people in the past. Designed to impress and show off Liyue’s splendor like the main hall, there was little expense spared for these collections as well.

She slowed, then came to a stop. She was nearly on the other side of the building from the main hall, and her surroundings looked like it. This space was dominated by a large door formed of wood and metal, something that looked more at home in the industrial sections of the city, not here among the shrines. The walls and floor here were dirty- darkened soot seemed to almost grow on any available surface and the air was thick with the smell of earth and fire.

To a place built to celebrate the divine and the supernatural beasts that crowned this corner of the earth, this seemed wildly out of place. But Ganyu, among other important people in Liyue’s governing bodies, knew the truth of this location.

Ganyu balanced her tray on one hand and reached out to one of the enormous door handles. It took a bit of force, but the doors began gliding open, ethereally and unearthly quiet. She passed through the doors and began descending the stairs below, each one decorated with a different pattern of golden crystals that glowed in a circle around anyone walking down them. To Ganyu, it looked like the steps were being cast from the darkness just steps ahead of her as she descended. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she heard the doors behind her gently close by themselves, a soft but unmistakable noise through the space she just entered.

And what a space it was.

Lit by larger clusters embedded in the walls, not too dissimilar to those on the stairs, the room was a crafter’s dream. Uncountable machines of industry filled the space, of every type and make, most repaired by hand after their user damaged them from overuse or overapplication of force. They were distributed about the room by trade- over there sat the forge, its bellows quiet and the stockpiles of coal, iron, silver, gold, and countless other metals full and ready; there rested every tool one needed to hew art and purpose from any stock of lumber one chose; there rested

And through the middle of it all, and under the low dais in the center, ran a stream, to quench and cool the products of the forge, to supply the (currently disengaged) mechanisms with power.

And sitting there on that dais, bathed in light from a ring of crystals suspended over Her head, surrounded by an impressive array of tools and stock of materials all at Her fingertips, the Creator moved with impressive speed. Her hands flew from one movement to the next, a blindingly fast dance between Her fingers, the tools, and the dress that She was weaving on the mannequin in front of Her.

Ganyu set the tray down on a nearby table that wasn’t totally overrun with supplies and materials, pushing a few bolts of cloth out of the way. She carefully stepped through a field of bobbins, careful not to upset or step on any. As she approached the Creator, she wondered if She had actually noticed her. “Pardon?” She tried to get Her attention, stretching a hand out to Her shoulder. “Burning Forge–?”

The Forge of Days suddenly snapped out of the way, Her head whirling around to glare at Ganyu, Her eyes burning a brilliant yellow-white from the focus on Her activity. Her glare was uncomforting on the best of days, but when She wielded it like this, Ganyu could almost feel the heat of the forge pouring on, through, and around her. She could feel some of her hair begin to singe.

Ganyu took a step back, covering her face. “M-My apologies! Ningguang only wanted me to check on You!” The heat began to bleed away from her, quickly dropping to a simmering heat. When Ganyu risked a glance, she found Her back at Her craft, continuing to weave like She hadn’t been interrupted. “I wanted to check in on you as well. I know it’s quiet down here, and I know you don’t like crowds–”

Her Industriousness made a noise of frustration as she pulled the last of the yarn taut. She spun in place, planting the hook in the dress, then grabbed a plain knife and walking (at a speed that should have been called running) over to a spinning wheel. She began gathering up Her hair in large handfuls, then cutting them off with quick, clean cuts of the knife.

As quickly as She had turned away from Ganyu, the heat had faded away; only the memory of the warmth remained. Ganyu winced to see Her shear so much of Her hair off so carelessly, but she knew there was a method behind Her actions. As She stopped in front of the spinning wheel, She set the knife aside and began turning the spinning wheel, arcs of magical light started being cast from it as it spun faster and faster. When the arcs began to connect into circles, She fed Her hairs into it one at a time, and began winding the resulting golden thread around an empty bobbin.

Ganyu took the moment to look the dress over now that the Weaver of Fates was away from it. The beautiful garment looked like it was painstakingly constructed- the various materials made it look like it was spun from the condensed light that shimmered over Liyue harbor every morning, the angles and sections of construction chosen to mesh with each other so seamlessly. With how She had woven it all together, it felt like the dress was creating itself, like it was destined to simply be.

Thinking back to the excruciating minutiae of measurements that She had made of her body (after she found the demand from her Creator carved on a slab of iron which was unceremoniously deposited on her working desk…), part of her hoped that it would turn out this beautiful.

As she looked back at the spinning wheel, she caught The Forge feeding the last of her liberated hairs into the wheel and loading the last of the thread onto an overloaded bobbin. She snapped it up in one hand and turned back to the mannequin to continue her work.

It was now or never. Her Industriousness hated being interrupted.

“Your Grace?” Ganyu started speaking before She could set down the bobbin. “I was just thinking about you. I know you don’t like social events, and they’d prepared so much for the party- I thought you’d appreciate me bringing you a sample of what they had.” Ganyu began talking faster as she started threading the needle. “I-I made sure to grab some of your favorites as well, and I wanted to…”

She eventually stopped herself. If Her Unending Warmth wasn’t interested in something, it was basically guaranteed to be a futile struggle to get Her to cooperate. None in all Teyvat could match Her strength and endurance, let alone Her abject stubbornness.

Ganyu turned to leave. “I… I should go. I should see if they need me upstairs again. I’ll–” She barely took a few steps before suddenly being stopped. Turning around, she saw that the Creator had lunged towards her to grab on to her, Her incredibly strong and calloused grip, able to crush stone and deform iron, gently but firmly wrapped around her arm.

She looked up and saw The Forge’s face, one that was so used to its grim and steadfast glare that its current one, creased with worry, almost looked unfamiliar. The light in Her eyes was still bright, but had cooled to an orange glow.

“…Stay.”

The single word croaked from Her throat, gravely and unclear from disuse. It was incredibly rare for Her to speak- it was said that lifetimes could come and go without her making so much as a single utterance.

“–! …Alright, I’ll stay here with you.”

Her Grace let go of her breath and the room seemed to warm. She released Her grip on Ganyu, who slipped off to find two chairs that could easily be decluttered and dragged over to the table.

“…For all the work Your Industriousness does, I’m surprised You don’t do more to keep things tidy down here.” She moved an armful of cloth up onto a table, where it likely would be a hazard later on. “But I’m sure no one complains because they just like it when You make things on time.” She struggled to maneuver herself and the chairs around all the other clutter, but Her Grace managed to move through it with surprising, well, grace.

“There.” Ganyu set the two chairs down and it wasn’t long after She sat that She popped the lid off the tray and grabbed two different treats, offering the smaller one to her. She gave Her a light punch on the shoulder (that likely only hurt herself) then accepted it. After She started biting into the delicacy, Ganyu saw the light in Her eyes had dimmed further into a reddish glow, the natural steel gray beginning to show through near Her pupils.

The Forge labored many long hours to hone Her craft and produce all kinds of goods. Ganyu figured it was best to let Her rest for a while.

#sagau #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #ask response #I'm back baby #hopefully #Forge!Creator don't mess around

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mibyledraws · 10 months

Text

alt text 101 for artists

I’m not an accessibilty expert, but I gathered these tips here and there, and it has really been helping me writing better alt texts - and I hope they will help others too!

Alternative text is a description of an image that can be read by a screen reader. It also can help the understanding of an image for people who don't use screen readers.

What do you write?

It all goes down to including what is relevant to give the user an accurate idea of your artwork:

the medium you used to make the artwork (is it a digital illustration? a traditional oil painting? a graphite pencil sketchbook doodle?)

the subject of the artwork

anything that is relevant for understanding the meaning of the artwork. For instance, is the lighting important, or does it bring a particular meaning or mood?

Write sentences - don’t just throw away key words. EDIT: don't write full sentences, but phrases and fragments to keep your description concise

adding one more thing after getting feedback: keep it concise! Under 125 characters (even 100 is best)

Where/how do I add it?

The alt text feature is more or less obvious on the apps we usually post on. In doubt, please just search for it on a web browser, you’ll find how to add it in the blink of an eye :)

On Twitter

enable the alt text reminder! Everytime you post an image, it will remind you to add alt text if you forgot it. Go in your settings, then “accessibility, display and languages”. Then “accessibility”, and in the media section, check the “receive image description reminder” box.

on web browser: once you’ve uploaded your image, click on “add description” under it.

on the app: once you’ve uploaded your image, click on the “+alt” bubble in the right bottom corner that appeared on your image.

On Instagram

at the bottom of the posting page, go in “advanced settings”, then “accessibility”, then “write the alt text”.

On Tumblr

once you’ve uploaded your image, click on the three dots icon that appears when your mouse is on the image, then click on “update the description”.

On Mastodon

once you’ve uploaded your image, click on the “description missing” message that appears on it.

On your website (portfolio, shops, etc)

Where and how you can add it depends on the platforms but there’s always a way! My tip for this would be to schedule yourself an alt text audit of your website to take a moment when you would search how to do it and when you would add all the necessary alt texts! I’d also encourage you to pay attention to some other accessibility features - for instance contrast between background and text. There are lots of ressources out there and I admit it can sound overwhelming: digital accessibility is an expertise, a job field in itself after all. In my opinion, taking it a few steps at a time is a good way to go! For instance I like to do little accessibility audits of my portfolio every once in a while and check a new area that I might have missed before.

I forgot to add it, what should I do?

On some platforms, you can add it after posting if needed - it’s the case on the Instagram app for instance. Always try to see if you can add it afterwards. If you can’t, add it in the replies (if it’s on twitter for instance) or edit the body/caption of your post if you can change this but can’t change the alt text.

Adding it as a “simple description” instead of an alt text that will be read by a screen reader in lieu of the image isn’t perfect, but having it somewhere very close to the image in plain text that will get to be read by screen readers is way better than nothing to my knowledge :)

It's Disability Pride Month (July, when I'm writing this)

I wanted to take some time to encourage you to take some time and energy this month, and at anytime of the year, when you can, to learn about Disability Justice. I’m not the best at explaining what it is, and how much there is at stake. I’m better at this, making small guides about what fellow artists can do to make their work more welcoming to disabled people. But it doesn’t mean Disability Justice isn’t close to my heart and that I shouldn’t even mention it.

There’s a documentary about the Disability Rights movement that I can only highly recommend - it’s Crip Camp. It’s on netflix, and even watchable in full on Youtube.

youtube

Pay attention to us, disabled people, to what we have to say. ”Nothing about us without us”: our perspectives and opinions are those you must focus on when it comes to disability and to our lives.

#disabled artist #disability pride month #disability community #artists on tumblr #art community #illustration #artist on tumblr #illustrators on tumblr #cute art #accessiblity #art resources #art tips #tips for artists #Youtube

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shai-manahan · 4 months

Text

Hollowed Minds Progress Update 1/02/24

Hi! I hope you're all having a good year so far! I planned to post this last night but I was too anxious over having to return to work lmfao (with the holidays being over and all). Anyway, I know it's been a year since my last update; believe me, I'm upset about it, too, and I'm trying to make up for that.

To be completely honest, aside from my health, one thing that's been stopping me from progressing steadily was my attempts at improving the way I write. I was struggling to find my own style the entire year, experimenting over and over (sometimes without rest, like an idiot), and I know that probably sounds stupid, but writing as a craft is so special to me that I want to be better at it.

It did backfire, though. A lot. Mostly because I couldn't maintain a balance between this and irl stuff.

The thing is, I plan to write trad novels and short stories in the future. I plan to go back to writing screenplays, too. I don't think I'll ever stop making IFs, but there are things I want to write about that I can never do through this medium (and the same is true vice versa). This is also why I tend to keep editing HM while trying to push through with newer updates; this is the only way I can learn more about what I wish to do in the future. This is my chance to practice and experiment, before I get anything published and make the kind of impression I aim to make.

And I think I finally found the style I love to use the most this time.

I feel ready now to post progress updates regularly at least every two weeks (this one doesn't count). I was ashamed of my slow progress for quite a while, but I know I can start moving forward again. I'm also just eager to show you the story I've always wanted to share, and that'd never happen unless I push myself so :').

You're free to ask for progress in case I miss doing this btw, just. don't be an ass about it lmao. And feel free to send asks as well!

So far, this is what I'm trying to improve for the posted demo:

conciseness

strengthening the settings and the descriptions involving them

revising a few dialogues that do not fit the characters at all

readability and making some details clearer

overall pacing of ch2's first part

the nightmare scenes

reassessment of which variations would be most important to the plot and MC's characterization.

everything else I cannot think of right now

I think I'll dedicate a week or two into finishing whatever needs to be cleaned up so there'll be less game-breaking bugs that might happen for the new content. But after that 👀

That's all for tonight!

P.S. recently bought a lampshade and damn. this is definitely much better for my eyes when I write.

#hollowed minds series #interactive fiction #hollowed minds #wip #writing #progress update #hollowed minds progress update #hollowed minds book one #if wip #interactive novel

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sleepanonymous · 6 months

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Heya! I just got into Sleep Token and I'm enamored! Do you know of any links to posts or anything that talk about the characters and their personalities onstage? I'm having trouble differentiating between III and IV (I know II is the drummer) and I want to learn more about them!

Also, is it pronounced Two, Three, and Four, or Second, Third, and Fourth?

Hi and welcome! 😊 Glad to see a new fan of the band. For the sake of clarity, I'll answer your second question first. The Sleep Token lore technically dubs them all Vessel 1, Vessel 2, etc. so it's my understanding that fans started calling the other band members Two, Three, and Four, and used Roman numerals for their monikers.

TLDR: This Weblink has almost all of Sleep Token's lore, and This Video also has almost all of Sleep Token's lore. The easiest way to tell III and IV apart from each other is by their instruments and height. III plays bass and is taller than the rest of the band. IV plays guitar and is shorter than the rest of the band (except for II, he is the shortest of the four).

I'll be honest, I also had trouble differentiating between III and IV when I first got into the band. Up until very recently, they wore similar outfits, too, which made pictures difficult to tell them apart. You can always tell via the instrument they're holding (if it's visible). III is the bassist and IV is the guitarist. Another way to tell depends on which side of the stage they are standing on. 85% of the time III is stage right, in front of the choir (Vesselettes) and IV is stage left, in front of II's drum set. My favorite way to tell them apart (before it just became secondhand nature to know which was which) was if the musician had a bun under his mask or not. IV's hair is relatively concealed beneath his mask, but III has longer hair and puts it up into a bun to keep it all in place under his mask during rituals.

The neck of III's bass is kind of in the way of the back of IV's head in the second photo, but here are two examples of the bun shape that III has. This is also a good way to tell them apart if they're standing next to each other, or, in this case, kissing. III is extremely tall and will always be taller than any other band member unless he's crouching or leaning over. If the two aren't standing near each other, you can always use Vessel as a measuring stick.

The photo on the left probably isn't the best reference, but trust me, III is about 5 centimeters taller than Vessel, he's just leaning back. The photo on the right also probably isn't the best since Vessel and IV are both just dark shapes lol, but at least it's obvious that Vessel is taller than IV.

The band as a whole is anonymous so you might not find much in the way of personalities, even of their stage personas. If you're willing to read up on the Sleep lore itself, you can do that here (this is a link to boolintunes.com). Or, if you'd prefer to watch a friendly, lecture-style video, there is this one here on YouTube. Persona-wise the most concise I can give you is this:

Vessel is very emotional. That is evident by the lyrics he writes, but doubly so when he is in front of an audience. He will cry, he will laugh, he will do silly dances, and he will hype up his bandmates. It's evident that he loves what he does, but he is also extremely humble about it. All of the love his fans give him he makes sure to give back 110% (the fact that he manages to do it without speaking is impressive in itself).

II is a beast, like no joke. This man has got to have started playing drums before he could walk, I swear. He, like Vessel, obviously loves what he does, has a blast, and also gives zero fucks while doing it. He will sit at his drum set and kick out beats while drinking Red Bull and Diet Coke through his mask 🤣🤣 During moments in songs where there is little to no percussion he'll often stand up and react to the lyrics Vessel sings. He also comes to the front of the stage at the very end of rituals to hype up the crowd and hand out his used drumsticks and sometimes even a drum head.

III is the most animated of the guys. I will often refer to him as the "main character" of Sleep Token because he is always front and center. This has also earned him the fandom nickname of Bassy Boi. I've seen him do everything from windmill headbang, to run in place, to high kick, to jumping up and down for 30+ seconds straight. He also has a knack for yelling at fans. There is a compilation video on YouTube here for reference. Also! Something I forgot to mention earlier in telling III and IV apart: III almost always has on his iconic checkered socks in the most recent shows.

IV (at least the current IV) is probably the most reserved and collected on stage (fun fact, there were two other IVs in Sleep Token before our current IV, I wrote about that here), In earlier shows he played with the band, around 2021/2022, he used to be fairly shy. Sometimes IV would stand off to the very side of the stage and let Vessel and III have all the attention. Luckily he's seemed to get past his shyness and has become much more of a crowd pleaser. He'll often do things like serenade the crowd (a bit like II does, only a lot closer since there's no drum set in the way), get roped into Vessel's or III's chaotic stage antics, or, you know, tease pulling his mask off in front of an entire music festival crowd.

#asks #answered #sleep token #iii sleep token #iv sleep token #iii #iv #a little bit of vessel and ii also #sleepanon rant #photography #gif #oh whoops i wrote a book #my bad craftysquidz #i really hope this helps #and so sorry this took so long for me to respond to #also if anyone has anything to add to this #PLEASE DO IT🖤🖤🖤

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dresshistorynerd · 11 months

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kinda random question but how do you go about researching? I’ve wanted to get deeper into fashion history than just watching youtube videos, but I don’t really know where to start.

ps. thanks for making such detailed posts. they’re really interesting to read.

Thank you! I'm really glad you've found my posts interesting!

This is great since I've kinda answered this in replies couple of times, but not properly. I very much understand the struggle. Dress history is a relatively new academic field and there's not that much reliable sources available and so so much unreliable sources everywhere. Internet of course has this problem but so does a lot of books too.

I thought this would be a short one and yet, here we are again.

Disclaimer: I'm writing this from a western fashion history perspective, since that's what I know best, but especially reading up on academic research and doing primary source research applies to non-western cultures too, though often it's harder to find sources for non-western fashion.

Getting started

Imo the best place to getting started is to read a book that gives a general timeline of fashion through history. I'm not sure if that's just how my brain works, but it helped me a lot of when going deeper into one period or another to understand the broader context and what roughly came before and what after. However these books are inherently difficult to make well, because there's so much nuance and variation in every period of dress history and if you're writing about the whole timeline through thousands of years and keeping it book length, there will need to be a lot of simplification to the point of inaccuracy. There's many popular fashion history timeline books with illustrations made for the book, but I would avoid those since non-contemporary illustrations often give a distorted image of the fashion, especially when it's about earlier periods in history. I've seen some really inaccurate illustrations depicting Middle Ages and Renaissance especially.

Costume and fashion: a concise history by James Laver - I'd recommend this as the starting point. James Laver was a art historian, an important pioneer of fashion history and curator of Victoria and Albert Museum, which has one of the most extensive costume collections now. The book is therefore based on serious academic study, but being a pioneer means you'll be outdated, when the field is more established, which is partly the case with this book. There's some outdated parts, but the images are primary sources and it does give good historical background. It should be taken as a starting point, not as the end point.

A History of Fashion by J. Anderson Black and Madge Garland - This is another similar book. It's more recent, but it also suffers from some outdated parts. The writers are not academics, but it has more primary source pictures which does help (at least me) understand visually what's being said.

Books

In a given subject I'm researching I usually start with seeing if I can find a reliable book on it or related to it, if I haven't already read much on it. Often what I want to research goes deeper into details than what a book usually does, so it will work as a starting point. As said it can be hard to find these books that are actually reliable, but here's couple of reading lists to help with it.

Here's a reading list by a retired professor of dress history from Helsinki University. It's very extensive and has a wide variety of books and papers listed. There's a bit of leaning towards Finnish sources, but most are in English and about more international western fashion.

Here's a reading list by @clove-pinks, who is excellent and writes a lot about the Romantic period, especially men's fashion here on Tumblr. These are all books that can be read free on Internet Archive, which makes the list even better.

Internet sources

There's a lot of bad sources floating around in the internet, but also some excellent gems. As dress history is such a new field, there's a lot of unexplored spots and lacking research still, but some troopers in the internet have done some great legwork in going through primary sources and gathering them together. These can be excellent especially when trying to research a specific garment, since often these blog posts are by historical costumers, who are detailing their background research in reconstructing a specific garment. It's not always easy to find them, since they might not come up in the first page of the google search, but I often find them through pinterest, where the blogs are linked into the primary source images and images of the reconstructed garments. Though be sure to look with blogs like that with critical eye. The best sign that it's reliable is when each image is given a source.

There's some more general sources too that need to be taken with a grain of salt.

Fashion History Timeline - This is a page with entries to the whole timeline of fashion as well as entries of specific garments. It's very well sourced and has usually pretty good image sources too. I will say though that it often gives a pretty limited description of the period focusing on some specifics, without giving a good overall picture, especially in the Medieval sections. The medieval sections are honestly pretty useless. It's at it's best in 19th century imo (I haven't checked out the entries to 20th century since I rarely research vintage styles, but I'd assume they are pretty good too). But since it has great sourcing it is usually informative. It just shouldn't be relied upon to give full picture of a period.

Wikipedia, History of Western fashion - In some ways this is the opposite of Fashion History Timeline. Wikipedia has articles on each period. The sourcing on these articles is often quite lacking and the information shouldn't be taken at face value. Especially the terms for the garments are often used in these articles in very questionable ways. However what these articles have is pretty good primary source image collections, and what is nice is that in Medieval, Renaissance and Early Modern periods they are often divided into regions, and they often have images of working class clothing, which are for some periods really hard to find. These articles often don't either give a full picture of the period, but in someways the basic picture of the period is easier to grasp from these than from Fashion History Timeline. I use these mostly for the primary source images, and the texts of them should be taken with a bucket of salt.

Academic papers

Going deeper into something will inevitably require reading up on some academic papers. I'm lucky since I get access to a lot of academic publications through my uni, but JSTOR (my beloved) gives free access to 100 papers per month (you'll just have to make an account). Through google scholar you can search for papers on a given subject, or if you don't have access to other publications, you can just use JSTOR's search engine.

Primary sources

If some MVP hasn't already combed through primary sources to gather them on a give subject, you can do that too. It's not necessarily an easy task though. There's thankfully a perfect guide for that.

A Handbook of Costume by Janet Arnold - Janet Arnold was a legendary dress historian, who really defined the modern field. This book details the process of researching dress history and how to analyze primary sources. And it's free on Internet Archives.

I'll give some basics here though.

Extant garment

Most of us who are not academic historians don't have physical access to extant garment, but many museums have nowadays excellent digital archives of their costume collections. Here's a list of the most well known ones. MET and V&A has sometimes great descriptions of the clothing and their history, but not for every item.

MET Costume Institute

Kyoto Costume Institute

LACMA

V&A Costume Collection

Palais Galliera

Extant garments are of course the ideal sources to study, since they are the actual garments and not just representations or descriptions of them. Sometimes the collections even have pictures of the insides of the garments, giving invaluable information about their construction. However, extant garments have limitations for research, since there's a strong survivorship bias. Firstly, they heavily lean on later periods as textiles deteriorate relatively quickly. You won't find extant garments from Middle Ages, at most fragments of them. Secondly, they are mostly clothing of the upper classes. Lower classes used their clothing till they broke down, and even then often salvaged any fabric that could be salvaged for new clothing and other textiles. Upper classes didn't necessarily have to do that, so what survives is usually very expensive formal clothing that people would wear rarely and rather preserve than salvage the fabric from it.

Photography

Since camera was popularized in early Victorian era, you don't get photos before that. Photography is a great source from the times it was available, since yes it's still only representation of the clothing, but there's less artistic interpretation than in paintings and illustrations, though importantly, there still is artistic interpretation. As long as there has been photography, there has been photoediting. They of course used it for creepypasta purposes by editing them holding their own heads and editing ghosts into backgrounds, but also editing their waists smaller. Basically the exact same way photos are still edited. So no, this is not really how small the waist got in Edwardian era, since this is edited.

Another obvious limitation for early photography is that it didn't have colors, so popular colors of a given time period and given styles have to be found through other means. A great thing about photography though was that compared to painting, it was relatively cheap, and therefore a lot of lower class people were able to photograph themselves. We even get people outside in everyday situations not posing.

Photography can be found with search engines like google and pinterest, though they should be always sourced then. You sometimes come across very Victorian looking photos that are actually just modern photos that are well edited. And also it's important to date the photos, which might not be easily with photos just randomly floating in the internet. Libraries and museums sometimes have good digital collections of old photos. For example:

Digital collections of New York Public Library (NYPL) - It has a wide variety of collections including photography, fashion plates and other illustrations. I haven't found a great way to search through the collections, but the best way I've come up with is to search images within the Clothing & Dress topic, put some limiting filters, then click some right looking image and then go to the collection it was from. I bet there's an easier way but I haven't figured it out.

Paintings

A great thing about paintings and statues is that they date basically through whole history of organized civilizations. Paintings are more delicate so even with murals in antiquity, you'll get more surviving status from that time period. But because of the strong artistic interpretation inherent to these art forms, there's some tricky parts to them as sources for historical fashions.

You'll find a lot of paintings by just searching for fashion or paintings of a given period in google and pinterest, but it's sometimes tricky to source them to figure out where and when they were painted. Therefore I often check from Wikipedia a list of artists from a given time and place, and search their paintings from digital archives of museums. It also helps when you choose artists who were specialised in specific type of paintings. What kind of paintings depends on what you're researching and the time period.

Portraits are of course great sources. They depict the actual clothing an actual person wore and if the person was historically important enough you can find out who they were and gain a lot of context for the clothing. However, they are usually all rich people, though not always. Another thing to keep in mind is that sometimes portraits portray the subject in a costume. This became a pretty big trend among nobles in 18th century. They had costume parties and would have their portrait painted with their costume, but also there were trends of costume that were not even worn for parties, but only for having a portrait. Sometimes the painting would be painted like a scene and not like traditional portrait. Van Dyke costume (first picture below) in first half of 18th century paintings is one such example. It referred to mid 17th century fashion that was seen as timeless at the time. Peasant costume (second picture below) is another example of a popular costume for nobles to wear in portraits. Costume balls continued to 19th century, but after the popularization of camera they were mainly photographed. People would continue to dress up in costumes for portraits, but it wasn't as big of a trend as in 18th century.

Genre paintings were a genre of paintings that became popular first in 16th century Low Countries and then In Netherlands/Belgium area during the Dutch Golden Age (from late 16th century and thorough Baroque) and during Baroque's popularity all over Europe. Genre paintings depict normal everyday life of peasants, working class people and the bourgeois. During Baroque they often had elements of idealization, symbolism and even sexualization of the subjects, so they should be taken with a grain of salt, but they do usually depict accurately the clothes the people wore. Rococo era had a lot of these types of everyday scenes about the upper class. During the Romantic era peasants were heavily romanticized in genre paintings, but there was also a lot of genre paintings of bourgeois thorough 19th century that was wasn't as strongly romanticized. These scenes were sometimes also depicted in portrait form. Realism brought another interest into the genre and Realistic genre paintings often focused on the working class. They did the opposite of romanticism though and often exaggerated their subjects to look more wretched.

History paintings depict events and scenes that were for the time historical too. They became very popular in 19th century, when Historism was the dominant in arts, but they have existed long before. There's even some from late Medieval period, and in those earlier history paintings, the historical figures are usually depicted in contemporary clothing and there's no attempt at recreating historical styles. In later periods, especially during 19th century Historism they very much tried to recreate historical styles. This is why it's important to always source paintings. I've too often seen Victorian paintings used as images for Medieval fashions.

Religious paintings have sometimes a bit of the same issue. They were very popular during Medieval and Renaissance eras, and usually the biblical figures would be depicted in contemporary fashions, though not always, sometimes in vaguely "biblical garbs". Religious paintings also have the issue of often being highly symbolic, so sometimes the characters in them are not dressed for the situation, or a character that in the biblical canon very poor is depicted in upper class contemporary fashions.

Illuminated manuscripts

Medieval manuscripts with illustrations are invaluable sources for Medieval fashions. They are usually commissioned by royalty and detail historical narratives, so they mostly depict royalty and nobility, but some illustrated scenes depict commoners too. You often find images of the illustrations floating around in pinterest but they can be hard to source when the source is not linked (which is quite often). The illustrations can be spotted by the quite consistent style (though sometimes they are not from illuminated manuscripts but some other rarer illustrations like playing cards).

A lot of illuminated manuscripts have been digitized and British and French libraries have quite extensive online collections of them which are linked below. The manuscrips in those are mostly English and French of course but there's manuscrips from other places in Europe too, I've seen quite a lot of the German speaking area especially.

The Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF) The British Library

Fashion plates

Fashion plates became a thing in 1780s, so they are not useful for periods before that. They are basically illustrations that show the latest trends and they were published in fashion magazines. They don't reflect the way everyone dressed, since as they did show the latest high fashion and the people who would be wearing that were mostly young rich fashionable people. However, fashion at the time had a little different meaning than today as it was linked to dress code, and to be respectable you needed to follow fashion. So everyone, even working class people, would follow the new trends to an extent. This is especially true when we get to Victorian era, when mass industrial mass production and the emerging middle class made clothing cheaper and more available to more people. They wouldn't maybe follow every new trend or with every detail and with as much extravaganza or with the most expensive fashionable materials.

While the fashion plates didn't necessarily depict specific existing clothing, they were based on existing clothing and they were often used as guides for dressmakers. Kinda like you might go to a hairdresser with a picture of a famous person's hair or hairdressers sometimes use pictures of famous person's hair to show what they might do. And the people who might not afford something as extravagant as shown in a fashion plate, might still show it as a guide and get a simpler version of it made for them. People of the middle and lower classes especially would also use them as guides to sew themselves fashionable clothing.

Fashion plates are quite easily found on the internet, but as with other things, if you don't go straight to some organized archive, it might be really hard to date them accurately. Many bigger museums and libraries have fashion plates in their online archives, for example NYPL which I mentioned earlier.

MET Fashion Plate Collection - This is a pretty extensive collection.

Regional costume illustrations

When genre paintings became popular, artists didn't necessarily have the change to go and see what peasants wore in the places they were setting their genre paintings in, but because the whole point of them was to depict authentic real life, there was a need for illustrations of regional dress around Europe. And some artists would travel and create costume collections for resource to other artists. These are really invaluable to us today, though they should always be taken with a grain of salt, because sometimes the artists who created these drew dresses for places they never had even been in. For example some of these collections include non-European dress and they should all be probably disregarded as fantasy costumes basically. You can usually assume that the closer the region which dress they depict is to their own place of origin, the more accurate and based on reality it is. It's also good to try and google the artist and see if you can find information of where they actually traveled, because sometimes we know that pretty well.

These collections can also be found in the digitized archives of big museums and libraries, again there's some in NYPL collections.

British Museum's collections by Hippolyte Lacomte from 19th century

A collection from late 16th century on BnF archives

Honorable mentions

There's many other primary sources in different periods that can be helpful, but the ones I've mentioned are the major ones and easiest to access, when you're not doing academic research with institutional resources. I thought I might mention couple of other sources that have become handy to me as examples.

Magazine and news paper ads became wide spread in the Victorian era and from that onward is a great source. They advertise specifically ready-made clothing, so clothing that was much more available to a regular person and therefore can be really helpful to understand what a regular person might wear. I don't know a great source for them though. Many libraries have digitized old papers and magazines so going through fashion magazines is perhaps the best bet, but it's definitely a lot of combing though. Some people have though gathered ads in blogs.

Satiric comics can be surprisingly helpful for researching sort of alternative styles and seeing what trends garnered backlash. For example I've long been obsessed with Aestheticism and the other counter-cultural movements related to it, and there's quite a lot of women's Aesthetic extant garments, photos and paintings available, but very little of men's Aesthetic fashion. But then I found that Punch Magazine (conservative satire magazine) loved mocking the Aesthetes and therefore drew a lot of comics with men in Aesthetic fashion. Caution should be taken though since satiric illustrations do often exaggerate for comedic effect. For example the idea that 1770s ladies made ships out of their massive hair comes from a satiric illustration mocking the large and elaborate hair of the time.

Runaway ads of slaves and indentured servants are bleak, but can be helpful source for the clothing of poor people during 18th century. This is specific to US, but because of the colonialism poor people there would often wear at least similar clothing as those in Europe, especially Britain and France, which had the most colonial presence in that region. The clothes were described in great detail in these ads for identification purposes. These runaway ads can be also found in news papers of the era, many of which are digitized in archives of bigger US libraries, but it's definitely even more combing through. Though again some people have done some of that work already and documented it in blogs.

#answers #history #fashion history #dress history #sources #research #historical research

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bybdolan · 11 days

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quick ttpd thoughts

ok so. i did listen to a leak so I had time to sit with the OG album for a while. I have not yet listened to all the Anthology tracks, but this not-doing of something is part of my album reaction. Bear with me.

First of all: I am insanely impressed with Taylor for being this raw and messy on record. More distinguished haters have said that this album once again feels like self-mythologizing, but I personally do not agree. User dancefloors had an excellent take on this: the album is emotional and messy to a degree where you feel like you should not be listening to it. At least that's how I felt.

However, that also has a downside. I find many of the lyrics, especially on the standard edition, to be unpolished or downright cringe. This rambl-y first draft type of writing might work for other artists, but I never feel like it works for Taylor. The second line of Fortnight is so awful that I was CONVINCED the leak I heard was AI, and people have talked at length about the tattooed Golden Retriever. Girl. Almost every song had an insane clunker or two hidden in it. This is not helped by what I personally (!) perceive to be a bit of a rehashing of imagery and themes that have been prominent in songwriting trends for the past few years. Killing the woman you are jealous of, Cassandra, religious imagery .... Don't get me wrong, I think the call for "originality" at al costs can be detrimental to art, but frequently with this album i felt as if lines were haparzadly chosen to fit a certain "aesthetic" that didn't mesh well with the rest of the song. Like. Nothing about "my husband's cheating. I wanna kill him." communicates any deeper emotion. (Compared to e.g. Samia's "I hope you marry the girl from your hometown and I'll fucking kill her and I'll fucking freak out.")

The introductory poem is one of the worst things i have ever read.

The thing is. I don't always do well with new releases, they are overwhelming, etc., but I listened to the first four tracks and was like "how can anybody think this is good". Which IS a hater take, and there is much I do enjoy about the album, and I am happy others like it.But with the already present repetition PLUS 15 Tracks .... it is a bit too much. I could go on and on about the repetition of words and themes that feels a bit trite (smalltown stuff, "starry-eyed", "precocious"), but I don't wanna. I wish there had been more editing, and I think I have talked at length before about how I do not like this new era of just putting out everything.

Alas. I did not click with this album and there are very few tracks i want to go back to. So Long, London is a favorite because of the concise lyrics and beautiful production, I can bop to Down Bad, but daddy I love him is fun imagery-wise, Clara/Sam/Sophia/Marcus is sad and also. A Lot., So High School, and I dig "You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith, this ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots". The 2am tracks need more attention, but I already like Looking Into Windows (?) much more than a lot of other tracks - generally, I enjoy the more genuinely sad Joe tracks about the slow demise of a relationship much more than the fast paced high strung ones.

anything else .... well. I don't know.

#spoiler: i did not like this #i had so many thoughts in my head but they are gone

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cannellee · 14 days

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how did you get so good at writing? i'm so deprived of Tokyo Rev content (not that there isn't alot but I read so much that I basically refresh AO3 and tumblrs tags every day to see if anything new has been posted), that i'm almost to the breaking point of a Thanos "fine i'll do it myself" and starting up writing again Is it just practice? Is it better to post cringey writing that isn't that good ;-; I think I fall into the trap of making any OC or y/n Mary Sue and some authors write with such prose and emotion that i'm like dang how can I write like that love your work!!!! always re-reading <3

first of all thank you so much for all of your kind messages!!! you're literally so sweet😭

(I really tried to be useful and concise, I hope it's not too messy/long : i'm definitely not a real author so my tips might be really bad and specific too😭)

I actually started writing tokyorev abo content precisely because of that reason, I felt like I read everything about it and I couldn't find anything more, especially one with scenarios I actually like. this is why I started my blog!

I honestly wasn't so sure about opening my own blog on tumblr. of course you're bound to compare your work to other authors out there who are definitely wayyy better at writing than you, which is why I hesitated a lot.

but! I already had an account on wattpad where I posted fics, so I felt like my cringey era was behind me (it was easier for me to start here because i knew what my mistakes were when writing and what i struggled with. whereas, when i just started on wattpad, i really felt unsure if i was doing correctly + i was younger, so less sure of myself). but wattpad really helped me see what made my work cringey, what parts were unnecessary and stuff like that.

but what is so frustrating is how bad my writing is in english compared to how I'm able to write in my maternal language. like, when I read other posts and everything with better vocabulary, grammar, who know how to articulate sentences and words, you can tell it's something you can only achieve by being reallyyy comfortable with english. I'm not saying I struggle with english or anything, but the language barrier was one of my biggest doubts when I thought about starting posting fics here on tumblr.

also! when I write something and think it's cringey, I let it marinate for a few days and read it again. it's easier to judge my writing when I put some distance with it, then I correct my mistakes and stuff like that. but really, writing and writing is the only way you'll be able to improve, so it should really not stop you!

but in the end, I don't think anybody ever started writing fics and was automatically good at it. you really have to try and see what works and what doesn't. youre able to see what post gets more attention than the other and try and understand why : is it because of a character or the scenario was better or is it your writing ? feedbacks on your work really help actually, so don't be afraid to try even if youre not fully convinced and confident! I posted cringey stuff too and I still do sometimes😭 I know people do a wayy better job than me, but I really like to write so I don't let it stop me from posting.

and for the y/n character, I try to make her and her reactions as neutral as possible and make her do stuff anyone would do in those situations. but I honestly can't deny that I sometimes fall into those stereotypical y/n writing, which I actually enjoy☠️. but I really try to have her say normal stuff, not describe her too much and basically just think of her as the most basic girl you could meet (generic ahh traits : kind, sweet, bubbly, soft spoken...). some people hate that and some don't, I just write what I'm most comfortable with.

same, if you to start writing you should start by doing stuff and scenarios which you really like and inspire you. don't go and try to write something you know people will like, but rather something you're confident in writing because that's a character you like and know how to describe, and because you have so much ideas which would really fit him etc.

and what helped me are the headcanons with the lists. maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't, but I used to list stuff when I started posting. it's just easier to structure my ideas, to see them more clearly. writing huge paragraphs are actually more of a hardwork I think, because everything has to follow the precedent idea and it has to be comprehensible, linked to what you're gonna say next etc. if you list what you wanna say, you can talk about how a character's personality is like and then change the subject radically without having to think and care about the transitions and overall plan (of course if it's too out of pocket it looks weird, but I hope you understand what I mean)

and if you want to write stories and not do little headcanons, what I do when I'm stuck and don't know what to write is that I also sometimes only write a part I really like and leave the beginning (or any other part) for another time when I'll be more inspired. I really don't have any hierarchy when I'm trying to find ideas, I wait for them to come naturally. I don't know what else I could say, it's really messy lmao😭

I hope you found it useful! you definitely will find people who write way better than me and who can help and guide you better than that, with better tips... that was more like my experience on tumblr than anything else, but I hope it could help you!!

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yourlakebed · 7 months

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okay, I'm a little bit scared to post this, but I think I finally have the right words to write a concise and clear post about my thoughts on asexuality (although the topic is still complicated).

upd: well, at least it was planned as concise...

let's start with what a huge number of people stumble over. if we put the term 'sex-repulsed' into google, the first article on the link will tell us that:

"'sex-repulsed' typically refers to people on the asexual spectrum who experience some form of sex repulsion. Some ace-spec or a-spec individuals may be repulsed by the idea of sexual activity or any sexual situation.

The term indicates that a-spec person experiences sex repulsion meaning they find sexual activity disgusting or repulsive. Some people are repulsed by the thought of engaging in sex altogether, while others may be disgusted by some sexual activity but not all.."

though it is not entirely wrong, articles like these that make a direct correlation between aversion to sex and asexuality do a lot of damage to the perception of asexuality. cause what if I told you that asexuality is not an umbrella term for "people who don't have sex/who hate sex"?

asexuality is about the absence of sexual attraction. it's not even about a lack of libido - there are a huge number of asexual people with a high libido. i.e., we can't even say it's about "people who don't want sex." no, because

it's as simple as that - it's about people who do not feel sexual attraction.

It took me a long time to explain how exactly this works even to myself and now, it seems, I finally got it (the final straw was actually Good Omens, with its incredible representation of asexual characters (yes, I'm talking about Azi and Crowley, and no, I'm not in any way dissing other headcanons for labeling them differently, and even more so - I don't see why these headcanons have to clash)).

so I came up with pretty simple example - comparison to food/hunger. it may be a dangerous one because sex, unlike food, is not a "basic human need", [despite the claims of some men who justify sexual violence by referring to their "basic need for sex/reproduction🤡"].

but anyway, this is how this food analogy works:

imagine you're a creature that doesn't need to eat at all. therefore you never feel hungry - you simply do not have such a function as being hungry. you were made that way. you can try food if you're interested or you can not. let's say you tried it, but it was.. well, it was okay, but not that you would do that every day. and suddenly you tried pancakes with raspberry jam, and you really liked them, and now you eat pancakes because you like the taste. and you think, "well, if I liked the pancakes so much, then maybe I'll search and find another one"...

and so your journey continues, and sometimes you find some new "dishes" that you like... or maybe you don't find them and move on. that, my friends, what asexuality is like!

I have asexual friends who love bdsm and are into the kink culture, because for them it is like a delicacy or some exotic dish. there are friends who simply don't care and don't want to try anything. I have friends who are curious and plan on trying to find their "raspberry jam pancakes". there are those who long ago found their comfortable "dish" and eat only that one. there are those who like the way one particular person cooks, and like the smell when you sit and watch that person cook, and like the very fact that that person cooks for you.

and people who are disgusted by sex, or even the very idea of it (sex-repulsed people) are most often people who have a certain trauma that has nothing to do with asexuality. and the combination of these two terms standing beside each other creates a terrible stigma around asexuality.

I am infinitely grateful to everyone who read this, because this is a very important topic for me personally🖤🤍💜

#asexuality #asexual #good omens #I'd actually like to specifically talk about asexuality in good omens some other time #neil gaiman #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #asexual community #lgbtq community #lgbt #lgbtqplus

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atropalugosi · 5 months

Text

Made a sequel to this post for y'all 😌 was gunna actually write smut but backed out at the last second whoops. Hope y'all enjoy a tiny bit of spice with our lovely Donna 🖤

"Take a break," Donna commands rather than asks. Valeria complies easily, arching back in her seat and humming contently when her poor spine pops and cracks. After the... complete fucking fiasco beforehand, the two florists got right to work on dollmaking. Donna seemed very in her element here in the workshop, and over their last break she had confided in Valeria about her family business. It broke the younger woman's heart to hear about the tragedies of the Beneviento family, but she was happy to be there to comfort Donna.

And she had to admit, she was having a good time learning a new skill with Donna's help. She was a good teacher, giving concise instructions and genuinely helpful advice whenever Valeria appeared stuck or unsure. It made the redhead feel very good about her first attempt at working with porcelain. Her doll was absolutely novice, not nearly as detailed as she imagined Donna would be able to make, but for a first go at something new she was proud of herself.

"I suppose I could use a rest," Valeria sighs. Making a pillow with her arms she lays her head upon the crafting table, watching the older woman inspect her work intensely. She checks over the joints and looks for any blemishes that may lead to breaks down the road, but finding none, she gives a content little 'hm!' and sets it down gently.

"You're a quick learner," she offers kindly, making Valeria preen. The girl might be embarrassed at how easily she took to praise if she weren't in such a good mood.

"Thanks Donna, but honestly, I think you're just a really good instructor."

"Don't cut yourself short," Donna tuts. She looks deadly serious, gaze locked with her mentee, making the young woman swallow harshly. "I mean it, you have a real talent for the arts. An eye for beauty, I suppose."

"You're beautiful," Valeria responds breathlessly. The brunette furrows her brows, looking away stiffly and Valeria quickly sits up, worried she overstepped. "I-I'm sorry, I just, you were saying such nice things and you look so pretty and serene in your element and-"

"If you keep this up, I'll never be able to let you go," the dollmaker husks, bringing colour to Valeria's cheeks.

"What if... I don't want you to either?" She asks tentatively, leaning closer to her mentor. Donna looks back at her like she'd said something most outrageous, but Valeria simply offers a smile, setting her hand across the table for her to take. And she does, slender fingers intertwining with Valeria's as she steps closer to the girl until she's looking down on her.

"I do not think you understand just what you're offering," Donna huffs, a bit of a dark look in her eyes. It sends a thrilling chill down the redhead's spine. "I'd want to keep you all to myself, far from the leering eyes of my neices or anyone else that's tried to steal you away."

Valeria shakes her head slightly at that. Couldn't Donna see yet that she had no interest in anyone else? Least of all Cassandra Dimitrescu and her playboy persona. Pulling the other woman closer until their knees are touching, she keeps eye contact so Donna can really read her.

"I only have eyes for you anyway," she confesses with heated cheeks. "Professor Dimitrescu wasn't wrong calling me your pet, I'd follow you anywhere Donna."

And with that, the botanist is upon her, pulling Valeria to stand and feverishly kissing her. The girl squeals at the suddenness of the kiss, but quickly reciprocates, hands finding their way around Donna's strong shoulders. Donna responds in kind, taking hold of her hips and pushing her back into the workbench gently. After only a few moments the two seperate to catch their breath, Valeria smiling like a fool at the older woman's flushed face. She wouldn't in a million years have expected Donna to make the first move, but she absolutely was going to enjoy it and pray this confidence lasted.

Leaning in for another kiss garners unexpected but not unappealing results as Valeria finds herself lifted and sat upon the table, Donna standing pressed between her legs, and she can't help but squirm and bite her lip at the closeness. Donna plants her palms on the girl's thighs, squeezing them gently and looking delighted at the gasp it gets her.

"I would like you to refer to me the same way you did in front of Alcina. Can you do that for me?" she asks sweetly, looking at Valeria through her lashes.

"Sì mammina," she squeaks, fighting her embarrassment and losing. Donna pecks her on the nose though and suddenly her slip up from earlier isn't so mortifying.

"Brava bambola."

Valeria is pretty sure her entire brain short circuits at that. Fuck being her kitten, hello to a life of being Donna's personal doll to be toyed with whenever. Would she actually treat her like a precious porcelain doll? Dressing her in fancy clothes and touching her oh so gently so as not to break her? Or maybe she would joyfully destroy her knowing she has the expertise to piece her doll back together seamlessly? Or-

"You're lost in that pretty head again," Donna laughs lightly, bringing Valeria back to earth. "Is this okay, or? We can stop, I got a bit carried away."

"No! No, I- we," Valeria shakes her head clear and pulls Donna closer, wrapping her legs around her hips. "I want to keep going, really! Fammi tuo mammina."

Like a switch flipped within her, Donna pushes Valeria back until she's flush against the tabletop and crawls over the redhead, straddling her. She kisses her again, hands exploring the girl's torso like an expert craftsman inspecting a fine piece of art. She runs her palms over her ribs and stops teasingly just below her chest, thumbs brushing along the curves. Tentatively the dollmaker cups her love's breasts, carefully massaging happy little moans from the girl beneath her.

Valeria for her part is feeling up Donna's arms and back, relishing in the strength she finds there. Knowing that Donna could probably do whatever she wanted to her, but seeing how restrained and gentle she was being made her heart swell with warmth. This woman truly made her feel so safe and cared for and good god was she going to do everything in her power to make her feel the same. Donna's lips stray from hers, kissing a path from her cheek to her jaw to her neck, and the redhead sighs contently until-

"Ow!" Valeria hisses, being rudely interrupted from her sweet thoughts by a foreign feeling in her neck. "Did you just bite me?"

Donna doesn't look sorry in the slightest, kissing the offended patch of skin before teasingly nipping her again.

"You asked me to make you mine," she breathes against the girl's neck, eliciting goosebumps. "I'm just making sure everyone else knows it."

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento/reader #my writing #resident lover #lugosi speaks #mayeb one day i'll write smut but for now i cannot without having to stop and relax every five minutes so #this is me pushing my donna is a top agenda #this is also me pushing my donna is strong af agenda #i worked in a geeenhouse i know the wonders plants do for your arms and back

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