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mountswhore · 3 years

Note

hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

#mase #money mase #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

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cherryblossomstars · 4 years

Text

paper crowns (t. oikawa)

a/n: take a shot everytime i say the words “paper crowns” in this fic lmao. i hope you enjoy it! i’m really proud of this one

pairing: oikawa x reader

word count: 2,138

genre: childhood friends to lovers, very light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, its like 85% fluff 15% angst and imo its not that angsty

summary: you were in love with the boy who wore paper crowns and kept galaxies in his pockets

you were in love with a boy who wore paper crowns and kept galaxies in his pockets in case the both of you ever got bored of the same old scenery the miyagi prefecture had to offer. he’d take the stars and universes out of his pocket and paint your skies with nebulas and show you everything beautiful the world had to offer.

“i want to travel the world with you one day,” he’d shrugged one day out of nowhere- as if you weren’t both in fourth grade and had no real means of being able to make that dream come true.

“we will.” you’d promised, anyway.

the paper crowns were a craft you’d shown him how to make when you were both little. he’d become so enamored with it the both of you had gone to the store and spent your pocket money on buying blue card stock paper, just to have quality, blue paper crowns.

when iwaizumi had joined one day, the both of you had offered him a crown. he refused, saying knights were much cooler anyway. and so, the three of you spent the day learning how to make a paper sword for your dear friend instead.

you and oikawa preferred the crowns much more.

“see, i’m a king, and you’re my queen!” he’d exclaimed. you wondered if it was a silly proclamation or a promise for the future.

the paper crowns remained on your heads all throughout your childhood and middle school. by the time you got to highschool, you’d realized with tears in your eyes and a heavy heart that oikawa had traded in his paper crowns for a volleyball and a net.

the paper crown you’d both made and decorated with stickers and drawings remained on his dresser, but your friendship had long since withered away.

the garden that was your friendship needed the care of two people and oikawa, busy as he was, had left you to do all the work. eventually, what had become this one-sided friendship of yours had dried up.

he regrets many things, but he regrets that the most.

he pretends he doesn’t see the way you steal glances towards him and look like you’re about to cry.

he pretends it doesn’t hurt when you stop. he has to steel himself whenever you walk by him without so much as a glance.

you don’t make paper crowns anymore.

he’s not sure if he was better off with you hating him or you ignoring him.

oikawa tooru loves paper crowns, attention, and volleyball. he’d realized too late that he loves you, too.

in his second year, he’d ditched volleyball practice for the first and last time. he’d gone to the store, just like he did many years ago, and bought a pack of blue card stock.

two new, clean paper crowns. he’s gotten much better at them, he thought proudly. he grabbed some stickers from takeru (much to his nephew’s protest) with promises to buy him more later. he’d stuck the stickers on carefully, the perfectionist that he is. and afterwards, after deciding that the crown looked too plain, he’d drawn and cut out some designs on a different sheet of paper, meticulously glueing on every little drawing.

the first and last time he’d ever ditch volleyball practice, and it was to make you a paper crown for your birthday. he’d even made a matching one for himself.

“i’m such a simp...” he sighed to himself. the both of you hadn’t spoken in two years, and he was about to show up to your doorstep with an origami project and a sheepish smile.

he decided he needs more because you deserve better than a childish arts and crafts project with sentimental value and a shitty friend. another stop at the store, with the crowns in his hand.

the florists are all closed by this time of day, so instead he buys a few cheap, half off bouquets that the stores sell.

he hates them, if he was being honest. so he compromises, stealing certain flowers here and there from each bouquet he bought and made it into one, beautifully done (almost professional looking, if he could say so himself) bouquet— just for you. he’d put the leftover flowers into a vase and arrange them later to give to his mother.

by the time he’s finally finished preparing, it was on the cusp of twilight. his mother had flashed him a knowing smile on his way out of the door, the pieces all fitting together when she sees the familiar points of the crowns in his hand. she’d seen them often enough in his childhood to know that they were worth more to him than just simple toys.

while the night is winding down, you open your door to a pretty bouquet shoved into your face, tied with a pretty blue bow and held by a pretty boy, with a shy, apologetic smile on his face. the real kicker was the paper crown placed on his head.

you smile, glad to see the boy you once called your best friend again. you happily take the flowers, side stepping away from your front door to let the chocolate haired setter into your home.

your family greets him with a smile, they’d always loved oikawa. to them, he was the boy that would spout facts about space and conspiracy theories about the government and the aliens that they were hiding whenever he could. his faces flushes bright red when it’s brought up.

they, too, smile knowingly at the familiar blue set of crowns in his hand.

you put the beautifully arranged flowers into a vase and ask him to follow you. he does, of course. he’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you’d asked him to.

he won’t say that. not right now, at least. your relationship still needed mending. he still needed to learn how to manage his schedule. it’s the reason the both of you had distanced yourselves from each other in the first place.

volleyball first, he’d always think. he’d just assumed you’d always be able for him to come home to whenever he needed. you’d just felt used, instead.

he thinks he’s learned his lesson. enough, at least, for him to try being friends with you again. properly, this time. and then maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to confess the feelings he’s been shoving away from his heart for years.

you both enter your room, placing the vase of flowers onto your nightstand. his heart stutters with hope when he sees a paper crown left on your nightstand, right next to the newly set vase of flowers. he ignores how his stomach plunged with guilt, as well, for neglecting your friendship for so long.

you both pretend you don’t see your family peaking through a crack in your door to see what was going on.

they pretend they didn’t see oikawa hold you in his arms and whisper apologies, asking for another chance. they slip away without a word.

oikawa’s head tucks into your shoulder, his paper crown falling to the ground when he does.

you wonder how he could be comfortable in this position, considering your height difference. he’s grown so much taller since you knew him.

when he steps back, he places the paper crown he’s been holding in his hand onto your head. you bend down to pick up his, and place it onto his head.

you realize quickly that oikawa is still the boy that keeps galaxies in his pocket and that he’d never traded in his paper crowns for volleyball. he brought them with him.

he’d make a great king, you think, when you watch him play a highschool game for the first time.

you’d been avoiding watching your high school’s volleyball games out of fear and, quite frankly, humiliation for the friendship that withered after not seeing sunlight for two years.

he’s still a setter, just like he was in middle school, and he’s still amazing. he conducts his team with ease and, despite always receiving the brunt of their jokes, it’s clear they respect and trust him just as much as he does them.

you smile and wave at the boy who once held a paper sword in his hand. iwaizumi sends you a confused glance, but waves back nonetheless. he turns to oikawa, his furrowed brows and look of confusion still evident on his face.

oikawa turns to his friend, who then points to you. when oikawa sees you at his game, he complains about you waving to iwaizumi before you greeted him, yelling his complains all the way from the gym floor.

you roll your eyes, “i have an inquiry box at home, if you want!” you yell right back.

he pouts, “well maybe i’ll submit an entry! about how mean you are to me! hmph!”

he turns away with a smile on his face. he can’t help it— you’re finally at a game.

he’ll never admit he always looks for you in the crowd when he plays the sport he loves so much. when you finally show up to one, he finally acknowledges the feeling of pride that swells in his chest.

he confesses to you at the end of your second year, when he thinks that you’re both back and settled into your friendship.

he knows that he really should have chosen a better place to confess to you, rather than the halls of aoba johsai during a lunch period. he loves attention, but for once he decides he hates the stares of the students around the both of you, the air hanging heavily as everyone waits to hear your answer. he knows better than anyone at this moment that this wasn’t the best spot he could have done this, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

“take your time,” you’d always tell him when you were younger. he was never one to listen to that advice.

then again, he was also never one to be the person confessing. it was always him getting the confessions. he feels his face burn with embarrassment and fear that you’ll reject him.

you accept his confession with stars in your eyes.

he paints your skies with the galaxies he keeps in his pockets. he lays in your arms with a dazed smile on his face, your hands carding through his hair.

“you’re ruining it.” he complains with a pout.

you hum, “i have an inquiry box, you know.”

“you don’t. i think you should get one, i have a lot of complaints to put in.”

“is that so? you can go ahead and fuck right off, then.” you try not to laugh when you roll him off of you.

he whines, “i was joking!” he crawls his way back into your arms and settles himself between your legs.

after a period of silence, he brings up your promise from long ago. “let’s travel the world together?” he mumbles, as if he was shy to ask.

oikawa tooru is shy, you think with amusement. you may as well enjoy it while you can.

“hm? where’s this coming from?”

he buries his head in your shoulder in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. you won’t mention how you can see the tips of his ears turning red.

“don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” he pouts, “remember? you promised we would.”

“ah, that’s right. i did.”

“so, can we?”

“well, i promised, didn’t i? promises are made to be kept.” you say, as if you both aren’t broke highschool students worried about college applications.

“where would we go first?”

“hmm. i’ve always wanted to visit argentina since we watched that professional volleyball game when we were younger. you know, the one where you had that dude sign your—“

“stop! stop! and for your information, his name was jose blanco! and don’t bring that up, please, it’s embarrassing. you just love watching me suffer, don’t you?”

“not my fault you decided to—“

“so!” he interrupts again to save himself, “argentina? we can do argentina.” he smiles against the exposed skin of your shoulder, his hand playing with your fingers.

“and then after that, let’s visit france. and then i’d like to see the philippines, too. so many places to visit, too little time and money, jeez.” you continue to ramble, your hands reaching for your nightstand to grab and place the paper crown displayed on it onto your boyfriend’s head.

he listens to your rambling intently, fully ready to do everything he can to make both your dreams a reality.

oikawa thinks his heart might explode out of his chest at the thought that he was lucky enough to fall in love with the girl with paper crowns and stars in her eyes.

fin.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#oikawa #oikawa tooru #reader insert #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #fanfiction #oikawa/reader #oikawa tooru/reader

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

Text

Back at it again with my self-indulgent comic posts. This time! It’s Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #3, perhaps the most tonally-distinct entry yet, with shades of The Twilight Zone.

Spoilers!

So, as mentioned, this issue is the most deliberate in terms of both its pacing and its tone, IMO.

What is that tone, you ask?

To quote Alex Danvers, from “Midvale”: Hello, darkness.

THE STORY:

Kara and Ruthye are still looking for Krem Clues in the alien town of Maypole.

(Which is actually just Small Town, USA, complete with vintage 50s aesthetics.)

But the locals are clearly hiding something! So Kara and Ruthye continue to investigate, and they eventually discover what it was that the residents of Maypole were so keen to keep hidden.

Genocide, basically.

As I said, this issue struck me as very Twilight Zone; a genre story involving the build-up to a dark twist, all set against the backdrop of an idyllic small town. (Think, like, “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” but instead of focusing on the Red Scare, it’s classism and racism.)

The wealthier blue aliens kicked all of the purple aliens out of town, and when space pirates showed up to pillage and plunder, the blue aliens made a deal with them: the lives of the purple aliens in exchange for their safety.

Which is where the episodic story connects to the larger mission; it was Krem who suggested the trade, and then joined up with the Brigands (space pirates) when he was freed by the blue aliens.

The issue ends with no tidy resolution to the terrible things Kara and Ruthye discovered, but they do have a lead on where to find Krem, now, as well as Barbond’s Brigands.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

Ironically, it’s here, in the darkest chapter yet, that we get the closest to what might be considered ‘classic’ Kara.

Which I think comes down to that aforementioned deliberate pace--this issue is a little slower, a little quieter. It gives the characters some room to breathe.

That’s not to say Crusty Kara is gone. Oh no. She is still very much Crusty. XD

But anyways. A list! Of Kara moments I loved!

I mentioned a few of these in a prior post when the preview pages came out: I like the moment where Kara blows down the guy’s house of cards, and I like that the action is echoed later in the issue when she grabs the mayor’s desk and tosses it aside. A nice visual representation of the escalation of Kara being, like. Done with these creeps. (Creeps is an understatement but you get the idea.)

Another one from the preview pages: Kara explains to Ruthye that her super hearing won’t necessarily help her detect a lie, especially if she’s dealing with an alien species she’s not familiar with.

It not only reveals her level of competence and understanding of her super powers, it also shows that, you know. She’s a thinker. She’s smart.

Amazing! Showing, rather than telling us, that Kara is smart! Without mentioning the science guild at all wow hey wow.

(Sorry, pointed criticism of the SG show fandom.)

Anyways.

I dig the PJs!

And Kara catching the bullet! Not only are the poses and character acting great, it’s also a neat bit of panel composition:

We start with Ruthye’s POV, and then move to the wide shot of the room. The panel where Kara actually catches the bullet is down and to the side of the wide shot panel--we move our eyes the way her body/arm would have to move to intercept the bullet. Physicality in static, 2D images!

Also, like. It’s a very tense moment, life-or-death, but. Ruthye’s wide-eyed surprise at the bullet in Kara’s hand? Kind of adorable.

I was pretty much prepared for the page of Kara shielding Ruthye from the gunfire to be the highlight--it was one of the first pages King shared and I was like, ‘yeah, YEAH.’ But, shockingly? The TRUE highlight of the issue?

Where do I BEGIN?!?!

EVERYTHING. About this moment. Is lovely.

From Kara holding Ruthye above the bench to explaining the concept of a piggyback ride, to telling her:

“I’m going to hold my hands here, and these hands can turn coal into diamonds, so they’re not going to let go. I’m going to keep you safe.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG.

Ruthye’s narration--about how Kara had avoided flying as she was concerned it would freak Ruthye out--just adds a whole additional layer of YES, GOOD, YES, and her line on that splash page is great: “You see, all that time, she was worried about me.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG. AGAIN.

To say nothing of the STELLAR ARTWORK.

And SPEAKING of that stellar artwork, Evely and Lopes continue to knock it out of the park. Each issue is distinct and beautifully crafted, a true joy to look at.

Before I jump into more of the art, a few final notes of character stuff in general.

Ruthye is the one most affected by the experience in Maypole, as she can’t comprehend how a society of people that look so nice and gentle and peaceful could have been party to such a horrible act.

One of the big criticisms of the book thus far is that Supergirl is not the main character, and I guess I can agree with that observation. Typically, in Western media, the main character is the one who goes through the most change in the story.

And, yeah. That’s Ruthye.

As I was reading the end, where Ruthye sits on the curb and Kara hugs her, I was imagining how the scene would’ve played, had King stuck with the original idea for the series: Kara as the one learning to be tough/experiencing all of this for the first time, and while I think that could certainly work...

I continue to appreciate that King literally flipped the script; that Kara, especially in this issue, is like, ‘I’ve seen this, I know this,’ as opposed to being the one going through a loss of innocence.

*Marge Simpson voice* I just think it’s neat!

Because Kara’s been a teen in DC comics for so long--ever since she was reintroduced to the main DCU continuity, actually--so this is all brand new territory, here. Having an older Kara who’s SEEN SOME STUFF.

(Alsoooooo, since Bendis made the destruction of Krypton not just inaction and climate disaster, but rather, genocide, and the subtext of a Kryptonian diaspora text, the waitress’ derogatory comment regarding the the destruction of Kryton, as well as Kara picking up the bad vibes the entire time, suggests not just a broad commentary on discrimination in all its forms, but specifically allegorical anti-Semitism. The purple aliens being forced out of their homes and into substandard living conditions, then the blue aliens--their neighbors and once-fellow residents--essentially allowing the space pirates to kill them, making them literal scapegoats, Kara discovering the remains of the purple aliens, and Ruthye’s horror at the ‘banality of evil’...yes. A case could be made, I think.)

(Which would probably require a post unto itself and a lot more in-depth discussion, nuance, and cited sources.)

(Should mention that King has brought up that both he and Orlando--the other Supergirl writer he talked to--are Jewish, and for him personally, that shaped his views on Kara’s origin story.)

I guess my point is that this issue is perhaps not as out-of-left-field as some might think, and just because there isn’t as obvious an arc for Kara, doesn’t mean there isn’t some sharp character work at play.

(I could be WAY OFF, of course, and I’m not suggesting it’s a clear 1:1 comparison. I’d actually really love to hear King talk about this issue in particular.)

Anyways.

Here’s the final page, which I think works, because as I mentioned before, there is no easy answer/quick wrap-up to the story of Maypole:

THE ART:

I mean. How many times can I just shout ‘ART! AAAARRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!’ before it gets old?

I dunno, but I guess we’re gonna FIND OUT.

There are some panels in this issue that I just. Like ‘em! From a purely artistic standpoint! Because they’re so good!

Like, I just really love the way Kara is drawn in that top panel. Her troubled, confused expression, the colors of the fading light, the HAIR.

Evely draws the best hair. I know I’ve said this before. I don’t care. I will continue to say it, because it continues to be true.

The issue I find myself running up against when I make these posts is that I really don’t want to post whole pages, as that’s generally frowned upon (re: pirating etc.) but with something like this, you just can’t appreciate it in panel-by-panel snippets.

(Guided View on digital reading platforms is a BANE and a POX I say!)

Anyways.

LOVE the implied movement of the cape settling as Kara speeds in and stops.

And, obviously, Kara flicking the bullet away is just. A+.

And the EYES, man. LOPES’ COLORS ON THE EYES???!?! BEAUTIFUL.

Also, should note the lettering! The more rounded letters for the ‘WOOSH’ of Kara’s speed (and, earlier, the super breath) work nicely, and contrast with the angular, violent BLAMS of the gunshots.

And, I gotta say, the editor is doing a really great job of not cluttering up the artwork with all the caption boxes. Which is no small task.

(I assume the editor is placing them, as editors usually handle word balloon/caption box placement, but I suppose it could be Evely? Sometimes the artist handles it. Either way, whoever’s taking care of all the text, EXCELLENT WORK! BRAVO!)

Okay I think that’s everything.

Ah, nope, wait.

MISC.

Just a funny observation, more than anything else: Superman: Red and Blue dropped this week, and King had a story in there, “The Special” (which was very good, btw.) Both Lois and the waitress swear a lot so I’m beginning to think that this is just how King writes dialogue for any adult character who isn’t Clark. XD

This is absolutely a personal preference but when Kara was like, “And my name IS Supergirl,” I was like nooooo. I know King is trying to simplify all of the conflicting origin stories and lore but I LIKE KARA DANVERS, SIR. XD

It’s almost assuredly a cash-grab/an attempt for DC to get all the money it can out of a book they don’t have much confidence in, but I like the cardstock covers! Very classy, much Strange Adventures.

(OH my gosh, can you imagine that issue 1 cover with spot gloss???? Basically the only way you could possibly improve on it.)

Okay NOW I’m done. For real. XD NEXT TIME: Kara and Ruthye go after Krem and the Brigands!

#supergirl: woman of tomorrow #long post #dc comics #supergirl: woman of tomorrow spoilers #kara zor el #comic thoughts #comic opinions #just occurred to me I should be crediting the creative team in these things #I think thus far I've included every title page?#still #will try to be better about that going forward

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char-lotteral · 3 years

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I would've liked if the last was structured different. The story stays the same but it's different. Here me out :

the movie could've opened up with Naruto randomly thinking about his life because he's not the kid people used to hate. Then he remembers the comrades he made along the way. You can still have him acknowledge his crush on Sakura and have him question the crush. Then have him remembering people who supported him first like jiraya etc. Then BOOM have him remember his conversations with Hinata. Not the Haha funny moments but the one that have meaning. Like when he told neji he was going to make him pay. Have him question his moments with Hinata. Have him wondering if there are maybe possibly other reasons why she was always there 4 him. The story plays the same way of course. Toneri kidnaps hanabi bla bla bla. They go on a mission bla bla bla. They save the world bla bla bla.

I think if it begun that way, it would've been more natural with Naruto's perspective. Like we could still Hinata's perspective too but it would be better. I seriously thought that's how they would tell The Last. I mean it's so obvious and easy 👀.

me too!! What I would have preferred is if they began the show with moments after the war or scenes when they were 17-18 yrs old. Scenes from the blank period, how most fans would name it. I mean, it was canonically mentioned that they did in fact grow closer after the war so why not show those scenes where Naruto ever so slowly grows more fond of Hinata? Imo, the game protrayed those blank period scenes really well. They were cute as heck so i recommend watching them

I understand what the movie was going for, I really do. I get that Naruto didnt fall in love with Hinata, he realized he was in love. But the way they executed it made it seem like he only fell for her because "oh wow! she likes me?! dang i think i kinda like her too"

NO BUT LIKE IMAGINE THIS IN THE MOVIE.

Instead of the flashbacks about their childhood, the movie starts off with a scene immediately after the war where Nart lost his arm after the fight and Hinata comes running to him and Naruto is so relieved to see she's alright because he was worried as heck for her when he heard her call in the midst of the Tsukuyomi attack

Fast forward, maybe a short clip of Hinata taking care of Nart when he was armless. Then montages of them gradually hanging out together, Sakura teasing him, Kakashi forcing them to go on missions together, them having ramen dates but theyre not really dates. They couldve fit all of that in 20 minutes or so, like??? gAAhhHH

I also had this scene in mind where they went out on a mission together but there was a snow storm and they got trapped in an abandoned cave. They bond more, Naruto eats her bentos and he's all like. "Your bentos taste so good! Who taught you how to cook?" and she replies sadly "My mother" she then traces back to her memories of her mom, how she taught her to cook, how she'd prepare snacks and bentos for her and Hanabi, because for some fucking reason she wasnt mentioned in the series and Nart is like "Yknow, Ive actually met my mom once, but I wouldnt know what a mom would do with her kids." And they confide in each other about the loss of their mothers, he gushes about how he wished he had his mom's hair color, and THATS where Hinata gets the idea of knitting him a red scarf, the same color as his mother's hair. Genius? I know.

Its just, they have sooo much in common, theyre actually a lot similar if you think about it, which makes their dynamic all the more heartwarming! Hinata would know the giref of not having a mother growing up, the feeling of being ostricized by the people around you, the lonely childhood they had to go through. Theyre both the kindest and most empathetic people on the show!! I mean, theyre complete opposites but they are so much alike. You get me??

Maybe Hinata wouldnt understand the full extent of his pain BUT she would definitely understand the feeling of being shunned and ignored by the people around her. She would know what being inivisible would feel like and I'd like to think they talk about that with each other in their down time :,))

ANW BACK TO THE STORY HAHAHAHAH

The storm is gone and then Nart is like "Hey, after this, wanna visit Neji together?" then she smiles and nods and next scene~

If they started off with that, it wouldve established to the audience that they indeed grew closer after the war and it would also explain Hinata's more comfortable atmosphere around Nart. Maybe then it wouldnt seem all too out of the blue

I also wished they talked about Naruto's crush with Sakura and how he moved on. I think I kinda get what she meant by "You only liked me because of your rivalry with Sasuke right?" The way I see it, Naruto always vied for attention as a kid, he has this sort of hero complex, always on top, always the one to get the prettiest girl. To which the prettiest girl in class was Sak. Which explains the whole rivalry thing.

I actually have some thoughts about his feelings for Sak and how it was completely different with his love for Hinata but its kinda long so hehe, if youre interested, my asks are open ;D

Then the whole Hyuga/Otsutsuki drama starts. Hanabi gets kidnapped blabla Shikamaru team blabla AND NOW THE GENJUTSU WAHH

OKAY IMAGINE THIS. HINATA'S CONFESSION SCENE RIGHT? BUT WHAT IF THEY DID THIS WHOLE TRANSITION THING WITH MINAKUSHI'S SACRIFICE. THEYD DO KUSHINA/HINATA PARALLELS

Theyd replay the scene where Kushina jumps in front of Naruto just when he was about to be killed by Kurama and match it with Hinata jumping in front of Pain. Then Kushina's words "Find someone just like me" would be repeated over and over again

Hinata's I love you and put it side by side with Kushina's I love you

The red scarf with Kushina's scarf.

Their infinite love for Nart. AaAAAAAAAA THE POSSIBILITIES!!!!!!!

THAT WOULDVE BEEN SO CUTE AND COOL.

And by the end of the genjutsu scene, Kushina would hug him for the last time and ask him with loving eyes,

"Have you found her yet? Becuase I think you might already have."

AND SCENE

WAHHHHHH T^T

Aand then everything after that stays the same ig. Except for that cage scene. I freaking hated that.

BuT BESIDES THAT. THEY HAD ALLLLLL THE OPPORTUNITY TO PLAY AROUND A LITTLE AND USE THE BLANK TWO YEARS BUT NOOOOO LEAVE IT TO THE FANS IMAGINATION. AGAIN!!!$*@($&

dont get me wrong i LOVE the movie but I have all the right to critique it and give it my two cents while also being a very big slut for Narhina :DDDD

#i think that ends it #naruhina #i frikin love them #anon

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imaginaryelle · 4 years

Text

Fic: And One He Writes Himself

(also yesssss. \o/ headcanon, but even though everyone blames wwx for the new rules, lwj going off script 100% freaked the clan out way more and imo would make the clan elders far more likely to chip out some more lines on the wall than anything wwx could do alone, lol)

@vera-invenire, here it is! Thanks very much for the prompt, I had a lot of fun writing for it :D Many thanks also to @morphia-writes and @miyuki4s for their wonderful beta work, you are all awesome people.

Tags: CQL-verse, Chief Cultivator Lan Wangji, Wangxian, five times fic, pining, getting together, first kiss, long distance relationship (with meet-ups)

Length: ~6k (AO3 link here!)

1: Do Not Use Clan Techniques Inappropriately

To His Excellency, the esteemed Chief Cultivator, Hanguang-jun, the letter begins.

How will you ever know which letters are mine if I start them so formally? I promise, I promise, never again. Forever onwards you will be only Lan Zhan in letters, no matter what I have to write on the address.

But Lan Zhan, did you know? I’ve heard the most outrageous rumor lately. It’s the talk of traveling merchants and wine houses everywhere that you used the Lan Clan silence spell during the last cultivation conference. On every sect leader! Lan Zhan is so cruel. How could you do such a thing—and not invite me to see it? A baker in Yingchuan said Sect Leader Ouyang turned redder than his robes, and that Sect Leader Yao risked his throat and mouth still trying to speak. I’m tempted to call on Jiang Cheng and extract a full account from him, but we’d probably only fight again. Especially if you used it on him, too! Perhaps Jin Ling will be more accommodating for his long-lost uncle. Can I even think to trust a version of the tale from our dear Sect Leader Nie? I’m sure he managed to keep his voice unhindered, sly fox that he’s become.

It looks as if the rain is letting up, so my caravan will be leaving soon. I’ve heard all my life how beautiful Kuizhou is and now I finally have the time to visit. Have you seen it? I’ll send sketches of the landscape in my next letter; if you’ve been, we can compare notes, and if you haven’t perhaps they’ll help you decide if the rumors are true. For now, I can only offer this picture of your Gusu mountains. Think of it as a promise that I’ll come see them again someday.

Yours,

Wei Ying

P.S. I know you won’t tell me the story yourself, but I plan to beg you for it anyway. A tale like this is too good to keep behind your lips.

Lan Wangji reads it twice, committing the ebullient flow of Wei Ying’s writing to memory. The drawing is inked in a looser hand than he remembers from portraits and rabbits so many years ago, but he recognizes the landscape as the ridge on which they bid each other farewell, as seen from the trail towards the Qingling mountains.

He sets it to the side, smooths it carefully, and tries to take up his work again. The Jin Clan’s collected accounts of the last twenty years are neatly stacked before him, the white-gold bindings gleaming in yellow lantern light. He even manages to open one before his mind flits away, following the swooping energy of Wei Ying’s brush strokes into the night. He puts down the ledger, snuffs out the lantern, and stands. Perhaps he will check on the rabbits before curfew.

There is no announcement to go with the new rule listed in the main courtyard; it simply appeared on the Wall one morning, and then in all the library copies on the day after. But rumor swirls, of course, even in this place where gossip is prohibited. Perhaps especially here, behind white-and-blue sleeves in the juniors’ classes and through barely-moving-lips in the crafting, sword and music halls. As seems to be happening ever more frequently in the past few months, the name on the wind is Hanguang-jun.

Lan Wangji walks the wide, wandering paths between the back mountain and the Jingshi with the crisp folds of Wei Ying’s letter pressed between his yi and hanfu, over his heart. “Inappropriately” is a qualifier with more leniency than he is used to hearing from the Lan Clan elders. He wonders, with a sudden surge of surprise, if they are just as unsettled by and unprepared for his appointment to the position of Chief Cultivator as everyone else. Or perhaps it is simply that they have all attended more cultivation conferences between them than he ever wants to imagine. He can’t be the first Lan to have such an impulse. Loudly proclaimed falsehoods are, after all, exactly what the silencing spell was created to counter.

Yes. He is secure in his judgment. He has no doubts.

If the Sect Leaders cannot restrain themselves to speaking the truth, they will not speak to him at all.

2. Do Not Bother the Kitchen Staff

It’s supposed to be a surprise. A good surprise, for Wei Ying’s first visit to Cloud Recesses since Lan Wangji’s appointment as Chief Cultivator. He’s been working on it for weeks, ever since he received the letter declaring Wei Ying’s intent to visit for Qixi: he knows that Wei Ying’s greatest complaint about Cloud Recesses is the food, and so he will make certain Wei Ying has at least one meal more fitting to his tastes.

He knows it’s foolish, wishful thinking, but the idea that if he could just fix this one thing Wei Ying would stay has snuck into his mind, and so he purchases dried chilies and their oil from Yunmeng and spicy peppercorns and ginger from Caiyi, and rises before five every day for two weeks so that he might visit the kitchens and learn enough to prepare something simple.

If the kitchen staff are curious about his presence, they never let him see it. Li Jing seems pleased enough to teach him—stern and exacting, but never cruel—and pronounces the dishes of hot clear noodles, freshly pickled mushrooms and spicy tofu soup Lan Wangji produces “acceptable,” which is the highest praise she ever gives anyone. He makes them again the afternoon Wei Ying arrives, so that they will be ready for the evening banquet. He leaves a preservation talisman over the tray, and a note: For Wei Wuxian’s Return.

He doesn’t have time to check on it again. Wei Ying arrives like a spring storm, wild and sudden and casting the quiet paths of Cloud Recesses into disarray. He flits here and there like a blown leaf, greeting Lan Sizhui with an enthusiasm that violates at least three Clan principles before teasing Lan Jingyi with familiar humor and then complaining aloud—and loudly—that the rabbits still don’t like him. Never once does he venture further away than the reach of Lan Wangji’s shadow, and rarely even so far as that, but it is still not quite enough to quiet the tangled threads that pull and knot in Lan Wangji’s center. The press of paper against his chest is a habit born of a new kind of waiting, and now that Wei Ying is here, in front of him, the warmth it brings is more distraction than comfort.

Evening comes quickly, sweeping over Cloud Recesses with a cool, creeping fog and painting the mountain peaks in lively shades of red. Wei Ying tips his head back to watch a pair of cranes fly overhead and Lan Wangji watches the tilt of his mouth as he smiles and the line of his neck as he turns and waits.

He would have preferred a private dinner in the Jingshi, where Wei Ying might pair his special meal with his favorite wine and there would be no audience to comment on a lingering touch of fingertips as the cup passed between them. But it is not to be: his uncle is eating alone to aid his recovery after several days’ work refreshing the outer wards and his brother is still in seclusion, and so it falls on Lan Wangji to be present in the main dining hall for the evening meal.

Wei Ying pouts at this revelation but he joins the crowd without much protest—with so little in the way of objections, in fact, that Lan Wangji is certain he has some small rebellion in mind. As he is a single note of black and red in a chorus of white and blue, whatever it is is sure to be noticeable, but perhaps the food will be distraction enough. It is at least different from what Wei Ying has been served in Cloud Recesses before. Different enough that he frowns at it, and then opens his mouth to speak before he catches the slight shake of Lan Wangji’s head: silence during meals. Instead he fishes a whole dried pepper out of his soup for inspection and shoots Lan Wangji a questioning glance. The look of glee on his face when Lan Wangji nods is so captivating that Lan Wangji hardly even looks at his own portion before he starts eating.

It’s not that he doesn’t notice the unexpected added spice; his mouth burns after the very first bite, but Wei Ying’s surprised pleasure is worth any momentary discomfort. Even if it means he can’t actually taste most of the meal. It’s only when Lan Jingyi makes a faint choking noise that he realizes anyone else’s food has been affected. He can see the moment Wei Ying notices it too—his lips curl in like he’s clamped them together with his teeth trying not to smile, and his eyes widen even as he determinedly doesn’t look at anyone. Lan Wangji keeps his own eyes lowered as he examines the room. He is abruptly thankful that his uncle is not present, but many of the other elders are not so lucky. Several have already gestured for more tea or rice, an action that quickly ripples through the attending juniors as well.

The prohibition against talking during meals has never felt so smotheringly present as in this moment, watching faces turn red behind fiercely-clutched cups of tea. It’s Lan Bai who stands from his table and glares at Wei Ying, his face transformed more with emotion than the spicy food. He doesn’t speak—silence during meals—but he flaps his sleeve derisively and starts to sweep contemptuously past them, and Lan Wangji knows he will go straight to the Grandmaster, and then to the Sect Leader if he is still unsatisfied, because he always does. It will be an unpleasant waste of everyone’s time and an unnecessary stress on both of them because Lan Wangji already knows this incident is highly unlikely to repeat itself. It can only have happened at all in Li Jing’s absence, which means she has been called away earlier than expected for her grandchild’s birth in Caiyi.

“Do not be picky about food,” he reminds Lan Bai, and even the clicking of chopsticks stops in the wake of it. Lan Bai looks so affronted that for a moment Lan Wangji thinks he will actually argue the point.

Anything that might have been said is promptly forgotten as Wei Ying hurriedly stands and runs from the hall. He makes it just outside the doors before laughter bursts out of him, loud and joyous and likely audible to the whole of Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji holds Lan Bai’s gaze. He will not have this falling on Wei Ying’s shoulders, and he is no longer just the Second Jade of Lan, too young and too-headstrong, who spends too much time away from home. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lan Sizhui nudge Lan Jingyi, and both pick up their chopsticks. Slowly, the normal sounds of dinner resume, if with a great deal more tea than usual. Slowly, Lan Bai manages a rather stiff bow and excuses himself without further dramatics.

After he’s gone Wei Ying returns, mirth still spilling from every movement. He finishes his meal without speaking but it’s clear, as cultivators file out of the hall in silent rows, that he has plenty to say.

“That was—” He laughs again in the quiet of the Jingshi. “Lan Zhan, I can hardly believe someone so righteous as you would do such a thing. And to so many at once! Do you know how many times I tried to get into the kitchens when I was a student here?”

“It was unintentional,” Lan Wangji admits as he pours wine into Wei Ying’s cup. The incident is, in retrospect, rather reminiscent of a childish prank, and he should not be surprised to learn that Wei Ying might have planned something similar. “My preparation of your portion was not meant as a general instruction.”

Wei Ying accepts the cup with a soft brush of fingertips and a grateful smile, and then stills with it halfway to his mouth.

“Lan Zhan.” He sets the cup down with a sharp click. “Are you—Lan Zhan you made that? You—” his gaze drops for a moment and then he slides around the corner of the table to sit beside Lan Wangji instead of across from him. “You cooked that? For me?” His eyes are very wide, all traces of humor gone.

Lan Wangji hesitates, his fingers curling deeper in his sleeves. Perhaps his confidence was misplaced.

“Was it unpalatable?” he asks, because of course that’s possible. He hardly knows what the dishes are supposed to taste like to someone who actively enjoys them.

“It was delicious,” Wei Ying assures him. He reaches out with both hands and finds Lan Wangji’s fingers, and then his wrist. “Perfect.” He laughs, the sound a little watery. “I can’t believe—” he squeezes Lan Wangji’s hand, “—no one’s cooked just for me since—” he breaks off and turns away. His breath shudders through his frame.

Lan Wangji turns his wrist and links Wei Ying’s fingers through his own. This is perhaps not the reaction he hoped for, but he is hardly unfamiliar with the ways grief can lie in wait to ambush the most vigilant of minds.

“Sorry.” Wei Ying’s grip tightens. He manages to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes before ducking his head again, his chin tucked to his chest. “Sorry, sorry, this is—I don’t know why I—”

“It is alright, Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji guides his head back up and wipes the tears from Wei Ying’s cheek with his sleeve. “I’m here,” he promises. For you, always here for you, goes unspoken, caught somewhere deep in his chest.

Wei Ying’s face crumples. “Lan Zhan,” he says, the syllables half strangled on a sob, and he leans first into Lan Wangji’s shoulder and then sinks lower, until his head rests on Lan Wangji’s forearm above their joined hands, and he cries. It is not a particularly comfortable position, but Lan Wangji does not protest, even when Wei Ying’s tears soak through his sleeves to dampen his skin. He is, for a moment, at something of a loss for what to do. A faded memory comes to him of another night in this room, so long ago it’s more feeling than image: his mother’s soothing warm hands on his back and soft humming above him. And then another memory: Lan Zhan, won’t you sing for me echoing back at him from two decades passed.

He strokes Wei Ying’s shuddering shoulders, and he hums, soft and soothing, and he holds Wei Ying’s hand until he quiets, wrung out and limp with exhaustion.

Tomorrow he will rise early and prepare another meal for Wei Ying’s breakfast, shuttered away from curious eyes and open judgment. Tomorrow there will be music, and stories of mountains and rivers they never saw in their youth. Tomorrow they will walk the paths of his home side-by-side, and visit Little Apple and the rabbits, and he will watch Wei Ying revel in the afternoon sun. Tomorrow, together, they will build a lantern and release a promise to the heavens.

Tonight, he unbinds Wei Yings hair and combs it smooth with long, slow motions. Tonight he guides Wei Ying carefully to the bed and removes his boots and sees him settled under the blankets. Tonight he holds Wei Ying’s hand in his own and sits vigil against any specters of memory or dream that might come to haunt him, and for tonight—for tonight, that is enough.

3. Do Not Be Overly Affectionate in Public

“Pssst. Wei-qianbei.”

Wei Wuxian stops, much to Little Apple’s annoyance, and lets one hand slide down to Chenqing as he inspects his surroundings more closely. Cloud Recesses’ main gate is just around this bend in the path, and sometimes he thinks the donkey might be looking forward to their arrival even more than he is.

“Wei-qianbei.” A flash of white on the mountainous side of the path reveals Lan Jingyi, stumbling down to meet him with Lan Sizhui at his side and a gaggle of other young Lans in his wake.

“A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian greets Lan Sizhui with a grin, “and so many upright young Lans. Whatever could you all be doing outside your own warded walls?”

Lan Sizhui steps forward. “Wei-qianbei,” he says with a bow, proper as anything, “before you meet with Hanguang-jun, there’s something you should see.”

Wei Wuxian purses his lips, considering. “How many rules are you planning to break with this venture?” he asks.

“Um. None.” Lan Sizhui looks back at his companions and then nods firmly. “It’s actually the Wall of Discipline we want to show you.”

Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue in disappointment. Youthful creativity squandered once again. “Really, A-Yuan, don’t they teach you Lans anything about negotiations? This proposal is not at all appealing to me. I’ve seen enough of those rules to last a lifetime. Or two.”

“We know that.” Lan Jingyi folds his arms over his chest and smiles like he has something to be smug about. “But we think you’ll want to see this one.”

Hm. There’s a bit of cunning in Lan Jingyi’s expression that Wei Wuxian must admit is refreshing to see in a Lan. And he’ll have to walk past the rules anyway, on his way to the Jingshi. It can’t really hurt to take a look.

“You see?” He gestures at Lan Jingyi. “This is much more intriguing. Take note.” He ponders for another moment, then nods. “Alright,” he agrees, nudging Little Apple back into motion. “But it had better be quick.”

They get some curious looks from the cultivators on gate duty, and it takes some time to get Little Apple settled, but soon enough they’re in the main courtyard, staring at the engraved hunk of rock that dictates so much of life in Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian isn’t certain what he’s supposed to be looking at. Yes, there’s a new rule: Do not be overly affectionate in public. He’s just not certain what was so important about it to merit a special visit.

“It was added months ago,” Lan Wangji says, appearing at his shoulder. “Shortly after your departure.”

Wei Wuxian looks up at him, searching for some hint of what he’s supposed to be understanding here. Lan Wangji is doing his best impression of an implacable jade statue, which generally means he’s having some very pointed thoughts indeed. Wei Wuxian leans in to jostle his shoulder and gets a faintly amused deepening of the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth in response. Success.

“How long was that, a few breaths?” Lan Jingyi asks to their right, too-loud as ever. “A count of ten?”

“I’m not certain that breaks it,” Lan Sizhui says, softer, “You’ve never been punished.”

That prompts Wei Wuxian to watch Lan Wangji more closely, waiting for confirmation or denial. But surely not. Surely they couldn’t mean...

Slowly, ever so slightly, Lan Wangji nods.

Wei Wuxian stares at the characters so carefully etched into the rock and struggles to contain his laughter.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, trying to hide his snickering behind his sleeve. “Lan Zhan, they can’t be serious. This sounds like they think I’m going to ravish you in the central courtyard.” It’s a joke. Very much a joke. He would happily ravish Lan Wangji in private, of course, if he could ever be certain Lan Wangji was interested in such pastimes, but—

“It’s not you they’re worried about,” Lan Jingyi says, though his smirk slides off his face almost as soon as it’s out of his mouth. Lan Wangji’s gaze settles on him for a moment, until Wei Wuxian draws his attention back by tugging at his sleeve because that—that doesn’t make sense.

“Lan Zhan,” he says. “Is this—this can’t be about Qixi. Can it?”

Lan Wangji looks away. The tips of his ears are turning pink.

“It is?” Wei Wuxian thinks hard, but he can’t remember anything from his last visit that would be drastic enough to prompt a new rule as a response. He frowns. “But we only built a lantern together. Building a lantern is hardly debauchery in public.” Even if it had felt like a bit more than just building a lantern at the time, with the mix of hope and nostalgia rising in his chest.

“Wei Ying is shameless,” Lan Wangji observes.

“I was a perfect gentleman!” Wei Wuxian protests. Well, alright, perhaps he had been overly touchy in his affection for Lan Sizhui. Or overly loud, at least. And there had been, admittedly, several moments where he’d had to to sternly restrain himself from kissing Lan Wangji in full view of all his elders and students. He had restrained himself precisely because he hadn’t wanted to spend the precious after-dinner hours of the festival writing lines or banished to kneel somewhere as some sort of penance. And also because even he wasn’t so shameless as to subject his first kiss to such a display. What if he did it wrong? Getting it wrong in front of Lan Wangji would be bad enough, but the whole of his clan as well? It hardly bears thinking about.

And yet, Lan Jingyi had said…

Wei Wuxian does have some well-worn memories of that time, of Lan Wangji’s steady presence at his side and the jumping, choking pulse of hope and want thrumming under his skin. There had been moments. When Lan Wangji plucked leaves out of his hair after an afternoon’s game with some of the younger Lan disciples. When their hands had touched over and over and over again as they built their shared lantern. The way Lan Wangji had looked at him after they’d released it. The mornings, when Lan Wangji presented him with breakfast made especially for Wei Wuxian, and the evenings too, when they played together, sharing songs both old and new, or simply sat together in easy quiet with a cup of Emperor’s Smile passed between them: one to pour, one to drink, fingers brushing. Moments when he’d thought—maybe that kiss was going to happen.

Maybe Lan Wangji had thought that too. Maybe—maybe he was waiting for Wei Wuxian to move first, maybe—

“Lan Zhan.” He reaches for Lan Wangji’s sleeve again. Lets his fingers slide down to linger on Lan Wangji’s own.

Lan Wangji turns, just slightly. Just enough to actually be facing him. There’s a quickly muffled noise to their right, which Wei Wuxian resolutely ignores.

“Lan Zhan,” he repeats, softer. “I really… I really do like you.” He shifts closer.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s fingers clench around his hand, and Wei Wuxian squeezes back.

“I like you so much,” he says, “and I wish...” He drops his gaze to Lan Wangji’s lips. “I wish...” His words dry up. All he can do is squeeze Lan Wangji’s hand tighter and stare at him and hope that—that his intent is clear. That Lan Wangji… understands and—

And then Lan Wangji is kissing him, moving their linked hands up to Wei Wuxian’s jaw and holding him still with Bichen pressed against his side and kissing him, and Wei Wuxian suddenly remembers the rules—rules Lan Wangji is breaking! For him!—and their audience, and he can’t stop the blush that burns on his face and neck but he’s not going to stop kissing Lan Wangji either.

“That definitely breaks it, right?” Lan Jingyi says in a whisper that is likely louder than he thinks it is, and Lan Wangji pulls away.

Wei Wuxian, embarrassingly, whimpers a bit, which turns into a only-somewhat aborted exclamation of surprise as Lan Wangji turns and starts dragging him along in the general direction of the Jingshi.

“Lan Zhan!” He jogs a little to keep up. He wonders how many rules they are breaking now—they’re not exactly running, but they’re certainly moving faster than usual. He’s definitely making noise. Is kissing someone still an impulsive act if he’s spent months and months thinking about it? And he’s quite certain that anyone looking at his expression, at least, would mark him down for “excessively happy” because the smile he’s wearing feels like it’s been stamped onto his face.

“Lan Zhan!” He stops in the Jingshi’s doorway and clings to the wall a little and waits for Lan Wangji to look at him along the taut line of their still-joined hands.

“What is it?” Lan Wangji’s voice is unexpectedly flat, and his grip on Wei Wuxian’s hand tightens as his eyes drop to that point of connection. As if he is perhaps afraid Wei Wuxian will try to slip free now.

“I just wanted to say, it is an honor to break the Lan Clan rules with you.” Wei Wuxian’s grin widens as Lan Wangji’s gaze narrows. He loves that glare so much. So, so much it feels like emotion is going to burst out of him like a breaking dam. “And,” he adds, gleeful and almost giddy, “I’m happy to help you break that one again any time you like.”

There is a moment of considering silence.

“Perhaps,” Lan Wangji allows, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips, and Wei Wuxian steps over the threshold and lets himself be pulled in like the moon pulls the tide—surging, crashing, and eternal.

4. Do Not Speak to Wei Wuxian

There is a new rule on the Wall of Discipline. Lan Wangji glares at it, which has little effect except to make his lover cling to his sleeve and laugh at him.

“Unjust,” Lan Wangji mutters. The rule has, admittedly, come in the wake of three separate disturbances to the Lan Sect’s calm, quiet existence, but Wei Ying is not to blame for them. If anything, it had been Lan Wangji himself who asked his young students the question: Who is just, and who is evil? Who is wrong and who is right? Who decides what is black and what is white? And how will you tell the difference outside these walls?

Just because Wei Ying is present in Cloud Recesses does not make him responsible for disruptions, even if he does take a certain amount of glee in watching such debates unfold.

Wei Ying’s glee is currently threatening to completely undo him as he collapses under the force of his own humor, more and more of his weight coming to bear where he holds Lan Wangji’s wrist.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasps, laughing enough to be hardly intelligible, “this is my favorite rule.”

Lan Wangji steadies him and waits, patiently, for an explanation. There usually is an explanation even if it is not always something Lan Wangji himself would consider reasonable or logical. Wei Ying tries to speak three times, each instance interrupted by a fresh peal of laughter before he finally heaves a few calming breaths and stands straight.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, wiping tears from his eyes, “with this rule, any time your uncle yells at me, he must break it. And the other elders! How will they punish me for talking at meals and running in the courtyards if they can’t speak to me?”

Lan Wangji’s lips twitch. “Ridiculous,” he says.

Wei Ying smiles, wide and exuberant. “Yes, yes, yes, so many of your rules are ridiculous,” he agrees, which is not what Lan Wangji meant, but he is well familiar with Wei Ying’s opinion in this matter. “But Lan Zhan,” he continues, “this one is silly. If only speaking to me were such a danger then you, you! Hanguang-jun, the Second Jade of Lan, the Chief Cultivator! You would be entirely beyond hope.” He shakes his head, incredulous and dismissive. Matter closed.

The implication, Lan Wangji is certain, is meant to be that he is obviously still an upstanding member of the Lan Clan, committed to its principles. This is true, but is perhaps truest in Wei Ying’s eyes, and in his own self-perception, rather than that view belonging to his Clan’s elders; Lan Wangji’s interpretation of the rules differs from his Uncle’s, and he knows the friction that causes is unlikely to resolve itself quickly. And then there are the rules he breaks willingly, repeatedly. The rules he is breaking right now, standing here with Wei Ying without attempting to hide either his affection for the man before him or his critique of an elder’s decisions. Speaking to him, as is apparently now prohibited. Lan An’s principles—and his exceptions—are well known to the Lan Clan elders, but Lan Wangji is still certain his ancestor would be much more forgiving of his transgressions than his living relatives are.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying leans into him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you want to know the best thing about this rule?”

Lan Wangji nods, and Wei Ying presses his lips tightly together, perhaps suppressing another laugh.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, leaning ever closer, until his hair brushes Lan Wangji’s ear and his breath is warm on Lan Wangji’s face. “Just think,” he says, conspiratorial and jubilant oh-so-dear, “I can never be punished for breaking it.”

5. Do Not Vandalize Sect Property

Their belongings are packed, the weather is clear, and Wei Ying is eager to return to the road. Lan Wangji, if pressed—by Wei Ying, in a quiet moment caught between breaths, private to themselves—might allow that he is also pleased to be leaving Cloud Recesses, at least for a time. To go night hunting again, to use his cultivation skills where they are most necessary, and to extract himself from the incessant politics of squabbling clans. To spend time with Wei Ying, and only Wei Ying, and to see the world as Wei Ying sees it. He has dedicated months of planning to this journey. Weeks of work to guarantee that they will not be interrupted, and that the cultivation world will weather his absence without more than the usual level of strife between sects.

Still, he stops in the courtyard, before the Wall.

“I will meet you at the back gates,” he says.

Wei Ying shoots him a curious look. “Is this about whatever had you talking to Zewu-jun for days and days?”

“I will meet Wei Ying at the gates,” Lan Wangji repeats. This topic is only tangentially related to matters he has discussed with his brother recently, and it only concerns Wei Ying in the way that most of Lan Wangji’s life concerns Wei Ying—his thoughts ever returning to him like the flow of rivers into the sea. There will be time to inform him of this later, when they are alone on the little-used mountain path to the southern provinces. He retrieves a bundle of bok choy and carrot tops from his sleeve and holds it out for Wei Ying to take. “For the rabbits.”

Wei Ying pouts, but he takes both the vegetables and the direction. “Secret Lan Clan business,” he mutters. He frowns and shakes the carrot tops at Lan Wangji. “You could have told me you were planning something.”

Lan Wangji could have, it’s true, but he knows Wei Ying. Even the hint of something unusual is enough to keep his interest for days—often long days, featuring frequent leading questions—ambushes from a probing enemy. And this is Clan business. Clan politics. Involving Wei Ying even as an observer courts resentment at best and chaos at worst. Wei Ying himself at least seems to realize the same. He sighs and waves the topic away.

“If you take too long the rabbits might start to like me best,” he teases instead, turning away and deliberately avoiding Lan Wangji’s skepticism.

Lan Wangji watches him until he’s out of sight and waits several slow, steady moments longer. He has gathered an audience, eyes watching from latticed windows, just-barely-open doors, and entirely-too-convenient conversations stopped just far enough away to allow observation. But that has been true of his life for years now—eyes wherever he goes, whatever he does. Here, now, perhaps it will actually be useful.

He approaches the wall and runs two fingers along the top edge, where he can feel the protective layers of generations of cultivators’ wards and talismans sunk into the stone. He could break them, with enough effort, or unravel them with the right array, but it won’t be necessary. What he has planned should not interfere with any of them. He steps back, pulls a talisman from his sleeve, and centers himself. He’s still not certain the words are exactly right, but they are the closest he could get.

It’s easier than expected. Perhaps due to something in his bloodline, or his cultivation level, or the memories he can bring to bear, stretching back past this handful of years, past Wei Ying’s resurrection, past his death, past Lan Wangji’s own injuries and seclusion, stretching back across long years to a childhood spent etching rules into his bones in the hope of one more afternoon listening to his mother talk and laugh and sing.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps the Clan has simply depended more on custom and reverence to protect the Wall than he anticipated. Perhaps they thought to ward only against actual damage. Whatever the reason, it is only the work of a few heartbeats to write the seal, focus his intent, and let it go.

The ink shines against the stone, stark against the carvings: An attempt to control others is a loss of self.

It won’t scrub off, or be easily banished. It will wear away with time, and rain, and wind, as all the world does. It will last weeks, at least. Perhaps months. Long enough. He suspects, in the utter stillness that the courtyard has suddenly become, that even a day would be long enough.

He does not look at the watchers in the windows, or across the courtyard. He turns and walks away, looking only forward. To Wei Ying, who is sitting on the ground near the back mountain gate with a leaf of bok choy in one hand as he attempts to coax a rabbit ever closer.

Wei Ying, who pouts as Lan Wangji approaches and the rabbits immediately lose interest in his offering of treats, instead gathering around Lan Wangji’s ankles. Wei Ying, who stands and tosses the leaf aside with a disappointed sigh more befitting of a child than a cultivator of his talent.

“Important Clan business done with?” he asks.

“Mn.” Lan Wangji gently nudges the rabbits away and steps over them, joining Wei Ying and Little Apple at the gate’s threshold. Wei Ying nods a few times, like he’s not really aware of his actions.

“You know, Lan Zhan.” His voice is oddly low, the words stilted. His hands move aimlessly in the space between them. “If you’d rather stay here—if you don’t want to come—”

“I want to, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji assures him before that line of thought can go any further. He takes Little Apple’s lead and holds Wei Ying’s gaze. “The paths we walk do not need to be lonely ones.”

Wei Ying smiles, his eyes overbright, and something between a sigh and a laugh bursts from his lips. “Lan Zhan,” he says in something closer to his normal voice, “you just say these things and I can’t—” His hands rise warm and familiar to Lan Wangji’s jaw, and their lips meet, and Lan Wangji stands still and steady and kisses Wei Ying for as long as it takes for Little Apple to become agitated and shove her head into Wei Ying’s hips, pushing him back. Based on the displeased scrunching of Wei Ying’s face as he glares down at his donkey, Lan Wangji is certain they would both agree it wasn’t nearly long enough. But there will be more chances. More long afternoons, more starlit nights and soft morning sunrises to share. He watches Wei Ying shake his head fondly and rub the donkey’s ears. Watches him grip Chenqing at his belt and turn with a smile.

“Alright, Lan Zhan,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling with good humor and excitement and what Lan Wangji has tentatively started to think of as love, right there on his face for the whole world to see. “Where should we go first?”

#wangxian #the untamed #chen qing ling #lan wangji #wei wuxian #cql #alex writes

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chessiesystem · 4 years

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StEx Appreciation Month, Day 31: Nitpicks

SO, I have a LOT of nitpicks about literally every aspect of the show, like I could go on and on, but then this post would be the embodiment of this gif:

So for today I’m just going to focus on costume nitpicks! Like with everything in the show I have an ideal version of everyone’s costume/wig/makeup, so today I’ll just go over my main nitpicks with the various costumes and post my favorite versions!

Obligatory JapanAus picture because those tours overall had the BEST costume aesthetics.

Let’s get started:

(Also just to go ahead and get this out of the way, this post is almost completely ignoring the 2018 redesigns, like. Those don’t live in my head. I’ll just be focusing on the Broadway/Bochum/tour designs.)

Rusty:

Okay so with Rusty my main nitpick is!!! That stupid empty black space that’s above his chest plate in SO many of the costumes!! Like WHY is that there?! Here’s a good picture of it:

It drives me absolutely insane aljsldf. Luckily Bochum eventually corrected this but that it was ever there drives me up a wall.

Another nitpick is his headband… I can tolerate it when it’s paired with the hat, but I can’t stand it on its own, it just looks ugly to me. And speaking of his hat, I love most versions of it, EXCEPT for the New Starlight Express one where it was styled after a baseball cap. That bothers me on a level I don’t even fully understand alsjflds.

Anyway, I think overall my favorite version of Rusty’s costume is the 2018 version… I think the silhouette looks strange, especially from the side, like kind of too baggy? But overall it’s really cute, I love the colors and the new chest plate design, and the HAT. Also really like the new makeup!! It was looking rough for a minute lmao.

This is Peak Performance (not the Pearl…definitely not the Pearl):

Pearl:

Being as I’m in love with most of Pearl’s costumes I actually don’t have a ton of nitpicks. I think my main one is that I’m not a fan of the salmon/gold tones that were sometimes used for the bodice. For example:

I think moreso than the costumes I’m critical of Pearl’s wigs. I HATE when she has straight wigs… the only exception to this rule is Stephanie Lawrence’s and Nikki Belsher’s because those wigs were also big and fluffy. But that lanky thing Bochum had in the early 2000s? Terrible. Pearl should have big, dramatic curls. Also, this should go without saying but her hair should be PINK. Blonde Pearl actually gives me acid reflux.

Also I don’t think much attention is given to her headpiece, but I really love when they’re big and princess-y. Like, this headpiece with these earrings? I love:

As far as a favorite Pearl costume, that’s really hard because I love so many of them, but I’ll say this one. I think it’s a nice balance of pink and white:

Greaseball:

I don’t have a ton of nitpicks about Greaseball’s costume… like, it fucks pretty hard? I moreso have beef with his makeup. NONE of these men know how to blend and it looks terrible. I get that it might be a stage makeup thing that looks better under stage lights but I still don’t even really buy that because every other character blends?? Also, I don’t like how the makeup is just contouring… I get that it’s to make the actors look more masculine, which does suit Greaseball’s character, but PLEASE give that diesel some character makeup!!

I really stan the Broadway makeup for this reason. Look at this Jareth-looking bitch, he looks amazing! And it’s just SO cool:

Idk even this London makeup is pretty okay imo… anything to make him more visually interesting 😭:

Dinah:

My main gripe with Dinah’s costume will forever and always be the apron lmao. I’m very, very picky about it because it’s SO easy to make look tacky as hell. The 2018 apron is the ugliest its ever been, I’m sorry:

LIKE WHY IS IT SO BIG AND LONG. Also the silver strap around her chest is WAY too high now. I swear they tried to make the 2018 coaches more modest in the ugliest ways possible. But anyway.

I prefer for the apron to only be beneath the belt, but if it also has to be above the belt I can tolerate it if its small, like the Broadway design or the earlier Bochum designs. I also prefer when her leggings are on the more silver/metallic side than just straight up blue. Broadway and Japan-Australia had the right idea with how metallic they made everyone look.

As far as Bochum goes, I feel like the costume’s peak was from like 1997 to 2007:

PERSONALLY, though, my ideal Dinah costume would be Debbie Wake’s from the Japan tours. The color, the leggings, the wig, it’s all so… Peak! I also really love how the top of her skirt is divided into sections?? It’s really cute. The only thing I’d change is I’d remove the part of the apron that reaches above the belt and adjust the color of her wig. But otherwise I love this one so much 🥺🥺🥺:

Electra:

I have a lot of very disjointed thoughts on Electra’s costume, but bottom line is I’m rarely content with it… but my MAIN nitpick is definitely the color scheme. I know that it’s intended to be blue/red/silver but instead it often looks blue/red/white to me and I just CANNOT dissociate that from the American flag/overzealous patriotism alsjdlf, it kind of gives me heartburn. I’ve seen some fan redesigns of the costume that incorporate a blue/red/gold color scheme instead and I think that could REALLY fuck, though I don’t know how it’d translate to the stage/irl. Or just?? Design his palette after the bi flag colors??

Another nitpick is how boxy and bulky his chest box often is. I feel like I can’t criticize this TOO harshly because, in my opinion, this musical should be FIRMLY 80s, and that’s probably what counted as “futuristic” in the 80s, but it’s just a personal preference of mine that I wish his chest piece was more slender and streamlined. I think it’d make the silhouette better and just?? Look better??

I also don’t like most of the mohawk wigs… they just look… VERY cheap and fake to me most of the time. I prefer the looser/wilder wigs because they look softer and more natural.

ANYWAY I’ve found that the costume that actually sates most of these complaints for me is the Japan-Australia costume. The palette actually looks blue, red, and SILVER to me, and the body suit is just?? Sooo shiny and metallic and sparkly?? It’s so pretty. The wig is a perfect balance of the looser/wilder London wigs and the early mohawk wigs, and the MAKEUP is so good, it’s the only time I’ve seen a silvery/metallic base on Electra work and NOT whitewash the fuck out of the actor. Not to mention the base in JapanAus matched the body suit REALLY well and aaaah idk I could wax poetic about this costume all night aljsfld it’s really good and I appreciate it for being the, like, one (1) Electra costume I vibe with 😭.

Again, I’d streamline the chest box if I could but overall? This is peak performance:

CB:

Off the bat I’ll say I hate how big his shoulder boxes have gotten over the years. Like they are just ridiculously massive, it looks kind of awkward when the actors can’t even rest their arms by their sides due to it. They look like little kids wearing arm floats. Also not a fan of how much lower the neckline has gotten, and how much smaller the bandana has gotten?? His chest and neck are SO exposed now when they use to be completely covered and it irks the hell out of me.

Funnily, this one picture pretty clearly displays all three of these nitpicks:

Compare this to back when the neckline was higher/the bandana larger, he’s completely covered. He also isn’t fucking DROWNING in his shoulder boxes:

Also not a fan of the hair piece Bochum has used in recent years. Like it was just so much cuter when the actors used their real hair :^//. And I just Do Not Vibe with how straight and neat the hair piece is, CB has wild, curly hair and I’ll die on that hill.

ALSO, and this is more specific to just one actor, but I kind of hate Dan Ellison’s makeup aljsldf. Like it’s well done but it just has far too much going on. All what CB needs done is his cheeks, his eyes, and his lips— all that extra that Dan does on his jawline and with the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes is just… too much. And it frustrates me so much because he would be SO much cuter if he went with a simpler makeup!! Ugh. But anyway.

This was 100% the makeup at its best, like. Absolutely peak, thank you Thierry Gondet:

And my favorite costume comes from the 1990 Japan tour. I ADORE how this chest box is fitted and designed, and it just looks so shiny and red? Like it was freshly washed and painted 😭. Not to mention the red contour on his temples is kind of a Look:

The only thing I’d adjust is I’d give him the suspenders present in most of his costumes, because they’re honestly adorable. And, of course, he needs his Chessie System sticker. But otherwise? This is Peak Performance.

Okay I was gonna do more but this thing is fuckoff long as it is, so I’ll just stick to the Big Six. If you made it this far you’re a trooper, thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings aljsldfs.

#stex appreciation month #starlight express #stex rusty #stex pearl #stex greaseball #stex dinah #stex electra #stex cb #naph.txt #THIS IS SO LONG ALJKSLFDS I'M SORRY

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buzzliker · 5 years

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WOOO IT'S ANOTHER ONE OF THESE!!!!!

this time i really wanted to explain my decisions for the headcannons i've made here, so without further ado; 3, 2, 1, PRIDEYEAR!!

first of all, i hc them both to be Not Completely Cis because as an enby myself it's just. comforting and nice!! plus i think they really fit them imo!! also they're bi and everyone knows it at this point

doesn't use pet names/loves pet names

we all know buzz. he is awkward as heck and can't form a sentence around any of his love interests he's also shorter than all of them which is adorable. therefore, i think buzz is more likely to skip out on the pet names. woody i think also isn't crazy about them, but if he's ever feeling super-duper affectionate i can totally seem him slipping in a "honey" or "babe" instead of just calling his bf by his name.

confesses first/waits to be confessed to first

i actually touch upon this a little in my currently-in-the-works prideyear fic, but despite this i actually find this one kind of difficult to explain. i think the progression of their relationship, both canonically in the films as well as romantically if you view them that way is pretty all-over-the-place, but ultimately beautiful. i think that they both have doubts about how the other feels about them, whether they seem them as just a friend or more than that, and so on. that doesn't stop them from getting huge silly crushes on each other, though. to put a long (toy) story short, i'd like to think that woody had a sort of love-at-first-sight moment when he first saw buzz standing on andy's bed back in 1995, and by getting to know him afterwards his inner morosexual was Awakened. buzz had his own Awakening when he held woody as they flew together, like wow this cowboy is CUTE, and those feelings he had developed while he was away from and trying to rescue woody in ts2.absence makes the heart grow fonder (i was just listening to this song as i wrote this so here go stream all of pogo's music). across the next few movies they fall harder for each other, but they get increasingly more worried about what others, and each other will think. it will definitely end in them awkwardly and emotionally confessing around the same time, the details of which i'm going to write/cover in the fic once i stop procrastinating and finish it ;'D

big spoon/little spoon

Y'all Can Fight Me On This. i'm sorry fdjfhgdg it's just perfect ok???? look into mr lightyear's beautiful blue painted eyes and tell me he does not radiate Extreme Big Spoon Energy and vice-versa for mr pride that is all

gives gifts/does favours

idk man i just feel like buzz is actually quite intuitive to his friends' interests and would be the kind to get them really nice and meaningful gifts!! woody always goes red and/or just Sobs whenever buzz springs a surprise gift on him like i can totally see him jumping out of the window of andy/bonnie's room to get woody that flower from across the road that says something Extraordinarily Mushy in flower language. on the other hand, i just see woody as more of a favour doer in general, but his actions are always sincere, as he loves to helps others, whether they be toys or kids in need.

likes formal dates/likes casual hang-out dates

buzz is super uncomfy with anything too formal unless it's to do with star command, so like,,,,,, he'd 100% definitely be for a casual date, especially with woody. unless he's in spanish mode, in which case we'd probably get the full candlelit dinner with a mariachi band that's actually just mr pricklepants and the aliens singing really offkey over bonnie's radio. woody also, he's the king of movie nights and other soft casual dates, he just always seems to have the perfect idea of where to go and what to do! prideyear just have soft domestic gay energy in this essay i will

introverted/extroverted

woody to me, is definitely an extrovert, a good leader, and fairly outgoing. he gets exhausted at times and needs his alone time for sure, but he feels at his happiest when with his loved ones and making them happy because he is a wholesome man! he's also just very tactful and good with words, and loves to be surrounded by others, even if it takes him a while to understand the true meaning of the bonds he has with the other toys as well as just andy. they're a family, after all ;; i think buzz is an ambivert or maybe even an introvert though, as he's much more socially awkward, and to me he seems like more of the type to lose himself in thought and dissociate more often, perhaps over silly things. still, he's absolutely a leader in his own right though, but as we've seen he prefers to be second-in-command to woody more often, but will step up to first position if needed. that's probably also why he gave jessie the leadership role at the end of toy story 4 instead of buzz bc he understood buzz's needs HH this is literally just me, the textbook example of an introvert, indulging in comfort headcannons now so let's keep going!

affectionate via actions/affectionate via words

buzz turns into a flustered, stuttering mess around his love interests, while woody is certainly more of a smooth talker. also, you can't tell me that when buzz gets closer to people, he doesn't give REALLY lovely soft gentle hugs. both woody's words of wisdom/affection/praise and buzz's small gestures of affection are just as soft and warm and appreciated by the other as each other!!! it's nice to have the best of both worlds :)

carefreree/serious

it really depends on the situation?? like they both have the capacity to be strong and serious leaders or complete and utter GOOFBALLS but i guess if you're looking at their personalities as a whole they're mostly serious?? unless spanish mode again fjdgfghf

affectionate when alone/pda central baby

woody tends to be more private about his affection, and plus his being more of a verbal guy means he's just generally hopeless at pda. he's trying tho. buzz on the other hand, and speaking of hand he will hold woody's forever, is just always touching woody like?? it's literally canon too?? buzz is just like :) that;s my bf right there and he mine and woody is like.*infinity of blushy emojis* i love them so so much

slow burn/love at first sight

LITERALLY NOBODY CAN DISAGREE WITH ME HERE like i mentioned earlier you just can't tell me that woody didn't fall head over snake-filled boots for buzz the MOMENT he saw him standing there on andy's bed. you just can't. again, like i mentioned earlier, it takes slightly longer for buzz's feelings to truly emerge bc he is awkward and i love him

straightforward texts/emoji spam and keyboard smashing

i think they're both pretty straightforward when it comes to texting tbh. though they both can't resist the odd heart/star emoji, and once jessie taught woody how to keysmash and buzz thought he had been possessed

lends hoodies & clothes/borrows hoodies & clothes

picture woody snuggling into one of buzz's baggy green hoodies that's like a million sizes too big for him but so. so Comfy and reminds him of his wonderful bf so what's not to lose?? buzz doesn't mind his clothes going mysteriously missing, because he usually finds them again finds them again on a peacefully sleeping woody later and then they CUDDLE god i love them

that's it!!! thank you so much for reading this far about my Prideyear Feelings haha, i have about 7 million fic ideas after writing this but gottta finish my first prideyear fic before that haha ':)

gay rights!

#heehee #prideyear time #toy story #toy story 4 #toy story 4 spoilers #toy story 3 #toy story 2 #buzz lightyear #woody pride #sheriff woody #prideyear #toy story headcannons #it's like half midnight whoopsy

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voidendron · 4 years

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I've started getting a handle on the Star Wars AU Septic bois and it makes me happy! I’ve been changing quite a few things from my original plans for it, but they’re all coming together really nicely imo <3

uh...it’ll be under the cut because it got long ^^”

some things may still change, but for now this is what I’ve got!

Chase

Chase’s species is Bothan and he’s a smuggler, though he doesn’t actually use the term “smuggler,” himself. Literally everyone else does for him, but hey. His crew consists of three droids (Bolt, Beeper, and Slink) and two Corellian hound littermates (Kye and Sophe). He tends to prefer the presence of droids over people. Originally the only Septic he knew was Anti because he had a bounty on him for dodging payments, but he later met Marvin and Sam by chance and they’ve been friends since.

He was adopted by an Ithorian couple as an infant. His parents had a tendency to take in orphans, so Chase has five other siblings with only one of them being their parents’ biological kid. From oldest to youngest his other siblings are a brother (Ithorian, the biological kid), sister (Twi’lek), sister (Nautolon), Chase, brother (Quaran), brother (Human). I don’t have names figured out for his siblings yet, but his Twi’lek sister is married and has two kids; she lives on Ryloth, so if he ever mentions going there it’s probably to visit her. Their parents used to live in Coruscant’s lower levels, so they knew infants/toddlers wouldn’t last long on their own before they were picked up by someone undesirable, so they took it upon themselves to adopt these kids. As such, Ithorese is actually Chase’s native language and he doesn’t know any Bothese, and he has kind of an odd accent paired with throaty/growly way of speaking.

He stayed neutral throughout the war, smuggling for whatever side offered the best pay for the job. He tends to be indifferent toward former Imperials/Rebels after the war and gets annoyed when Jackie and Jameson fight.

Marvin

Marv’s species is Cathar, which is a feline humanoid. He’s also a Mandalorian and one of two survivors of Clan Magniif. He’s extremely protective of Sami (”Sam”), the other survivor from his clan and holds a grudge against both Rebels and Imperials for the deaths of their people. He only knew Sam and Angus (leader of a rival clan) to start off, then later met Chase by chance. Didn’t like him at first, but the smuggler quickly grew on him.

He was found in a destroyed Cathar settlement as a toddler, so Magniif’s leader took him in as a foundling. He was raised by Mandalorian customs as one of the clan’s own and remains loyal to it even after its destruction. He’s also extremely impulsive and thinks with his fists instead of his head.

During the war, Magniif tried to stay out of things, but was eventually talked into helping a Rebel cell. That resulted in the Empire making an example of them and wiping out most of the clan. After the war, he and Sam take whatever odd jobs they can for supplies or credits.

Jackie

Full name Sehnaj’akk’eedara, Jackie’s a Chiss, which look mostly human besides blue or silver skin, blue/black/silver hair, and glowing red eyes (Jackie has blue skin with darker blue hair). He’s known for being reckless and protective to the point of risking his own health.

While more typical of his people to be Empire or non-aligned, he agreed with the Rebels’ standpoint and joined them with no questions asked. It did take them a while to start trusting him, but he was eventually granted his own Y-Wing and made part of a squadron of fighters. Because Chiss weren’t known for being part of the rebellion, there were a few instances that Jackie was sent to sneak into Imperial territory to steal something or tell his comrades how best to attack an outpost.

Primarily though, he was a pilot during the war who protected Rebel supply ships. After it ended, he became a data courier for info too sensitive to be sent over transmissions. That’s how he met Jameson and Schneep, then eventually Chase, Marvin, and Sam.

Also, fun fact: He saw Vader in his TIE once and flipped out about it for days after because “Oh my god I could have DIED” if his squad leader hadn’t ordered an immediate retreat.

Jameson

A Human from Coruscant, Jameson had once been a politician’s right hand. He was known for blackmailing the senator’s opponents and doing shady business with bounty hunters, but nothing could ever be proved to pin the charges on him.

When he joined the Empire, he started as a spy, then a hacker, then eventually was granted an officer’s rank and took charge of a small espionage group. While only a low-ranking officer, Jameson (JSE-815) and his team often had their stations changed to whatever outpost or battle cruiser needed their aid. After his promotion, he rarely went on the field himself for spying and instead stayed behind to work at computers with his hackers.

During a Rebel raid on an outpost he was stationed at, Jameson ended up taking charge of the troopers when the colonel was gone (he’d taken a large group of troopers to attack the Rebels’ base, which turned out to be something they’d planned, and left the outpost ill-protected). Only having experience leading espionage, Jameson’s tactics were quickly overwhelmed and he and a few others ended up cornered in the command room. In a last-ditch effort to protect the information in the computers from falling into enemy hands, he and the remaining Imperials detonated grenades to destroy the information completely. Jameson hadn’t expected to survive; he received damage to his neck and now uses a vocoder to speak, lost three limbs (both legs, right arm), and received internal damage that required organ replacement. Shortly after the event, he also got an AJ^6 to improve his productivity, though at the consequence of affecting/limiting his personality.

After the Empire lost the war, he was sent to Sunspot Prison. He was later released a few years later under strict parole to aid Jackie with a mission that needed a hacker. He’s not fond of his current companions, but at least he’s not in a cell.

Schneep

Schneep (SN-334) is a modified surgical droid and was built shortly before the Battle of Geonosis and purchased as a Republic droid. He started out with a very flat personality as programmed in the factory that built him, but the more his owner joked with him and encouraged him to think for himself, the more he started to develop his own personality. He quickly latched onto sarcasm and grumpiness. His owner found it hilarious. His patients...not so much.

Throughout the Clone Wars, he’d receive a tweak here, an upgrade there, until it eventually came to the point it was hard to tell what his base model was (2-1B surgical droid), and sometimes even unclear whether or not he was actually a surgical droid. His programming was even modified to allow him to defend his patients if they were in danger (big no-no and cancelled the warranty on him). The first time he sawed a B1 battle droid’s head off was certainly a shock--to both the other droid and his patient.

After his original owner was killed in the war, he ended up passed around a lot, eventually somehow found himself under a Rebel general, then an intelligence gatherer after the war. So he somehow survived not one, but two wars and has never even had a memory wipe.

Now carrying a piece of the divided information Jackie and Jameson need to deliver, he was sent with them. It wasn’t until eventually meeting Chase that Schneep was finally given a name instead of being called by his serial number.

Anti

Anti Septik is a bounty hunter of unknown species and planetary origin (though is believed to be a Rattataki from what glimpses of his skin have been seen). He wears a full suit of armor to hide his identity, and uses a universal translator to hide both his voice and accent. He’s ruthless, can find ways to track a contract down no matter where they go, and seemingly can’t die. A former partner claims she saw a target nearly cut Anti’s head off, but he got right back up and started shooting.

Nothing is known of his past, but any hunters who’ve worked with him before refuse to do so again. He’s greedy and bloodthirsty; if a target is wanted dead or alive, he’ll kill them every time whether they’re ready to surrender or not, and has killed partners to get their half of the earnings, too.

He has a green lightsaber that he stole from the body of a Jedi killed in one of the Temples after Order 66. He uses it more for show, keeping it hanging at his hip most of the time, but knows how to use it if he needs it.

I don’t have much on Angus or Sam yet (besides they’re both Human and Mandalorians, and that Sam lost an eye during a training bought), and I’d like to add Jacques and at least some Ipliers. However, the only one I have any ideas for is Host; the rest I’ll have to figure out!

#jacksepticeye #writersofjack #the septics #star wars au #bothan chase #cathar marvin #chiss jackie #cyborg jameson #droid henrik #bounty hunter anti #blitz indites

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