#the v in his widow’s peak being one of them

[claudethecrabdemoness]

So I did It

I made a Fusion

And he's ✨magnificent✨

#ohhgod #why am I so attracted to this?? #what is it about cheek and jaw bones that make me go absolutely feral??? #cis men are a scam #anyway #have a televangelist tv man #now there’s a guy I’d join a cult for #vox hazbin hotel #televangelist vox #hazbin hotel #vox #human vox #1950s #redesign #character design #joel osteen #regardless of the curses i am pretty proud of this one #i wanted to keep his head more square like his screen #and his hair is…….. full of choices #the v in his widow’s peak being one of them #and of course I wanted to make him sharklike #I think I achieved it #the tim burton really popped out w this one #what a man #what a mighty strange man #stop looking at me like that vox or im gonna have to fuck you #there's a damn good reason he won that sexiest man poll #and im looking at it rn #stupid sexy vox #with his suits and his voice and his smile and his slutty slutty waist-

[haven-is-happy]

How Battle Changes: Don't Eat That!

Chapter 7

Pairing: Dogma x Jedi!reader, platonic Wolfpack,

Chapter description: A politician's dinner is rarely without consequences

Warnings: !!!unhealthy eating habits!!!, reader has very little mental health stability, angst, reader is at their breaking point

Wordcount: 2,3 k

Masterlist

Somewhere along the line, your statements went from “mildly controversial” to “assassination worthy”.

You’re not sure when exactly that happened. You don’t care. It just means you are focusing on the right thing, pissing off the people who should be exposed the most. 

The thought should be frightening.

Key word: should.

“It’s times like these that I think about my parents. My birth parents, not the parental figures of the caretakers and creche masters at the Jedi Temple. Are they still alive? Was I welcome in their family? Did they wait with bated breath until a child came, tears of joy when I first screamed my lungs out to signal I am breathing and healthy and then reluctantly given with tears to the Jedi? Or was I an intrusion, an accident, an inconvenience they gave away with a sigh of relief?” 

Another scripted speech. You poured your heart out during the nights between senate meetings, because the tears that filled your eyes when you allowed yourself to ask these questions are unbecoming of a public representative.

You basically threatened your way into the senate as a representative of the clones and jedi who wish to leave the rigidity of the places they were raised in. Threatened, not elected.

You bought your presence in the chamber by keeping silent about the carnage Krell was allowed to go on, even before Umbara, keeping silent about the Senate's knowledge about the Malevolence, long before it was discovered by your former master Plo.

No tears. No weaknesses. They will tear you apart.

And so the speech continues as you swallow the most likely answer. It burns on the way down. It might burn on the way back up after you permit yourself to throw it up from stress in the “comfort” of your home.

You’ve researched. You know the sector where you most likely came from, now deep in Separatist territory, being the place of several battles at the start of the War.

“I may never know, as the Jedi Master who brought me to the temple is dead. She died on Geonosis and took dozens of secret parentages of padawans, knights and younglings to her grave. At her pyre I cried for the small child not yet outside their cradle that might never know if those that bore them love them.”

You take a steadying breath. Those wonders have long since passed.

“Perhaps it is better not knowing.”

The Senate is deadly silent to your face, but you know there are mute conversations happening in hand signals across the expansive chamber. Their auras betray even the slightest change of emotions. The colours shift and bleed into another as information is passed.

Seems like they have forgotten you can read them better than an open book.

“I know how many of you feel,” you keep a second-too-long break between the words with an emphasis, “about the Order’s practices around recruiting. The truth is the parents get a choice, having both options explained clearly as day. Give the child away so it may prosper as a part of the Order, with the promise that one day the child will be given a way to contact them, or keep the child and face the difficulties of a force-sensitive toddler reigning chaos.”

Expertly, the diplomatic skill taught at the temple made you slot a joke after threatening your audience in not-so-subtle ways. The clueless laugh. The knowing shudder.

You do not want to be seen as cruel. 

But if you aren’t, it leaves room for argument.

Next to you, Dogma checks his comm. 

The several months of being your guard didn’t change his face one bit. The v-shaped pattern fits well on his face, accentuated by the widow's peak he keeps his hair in. His eyes scan each individual senate-pod in his field of vision, then flick over to you. You have to remind yourself you’re in the force-damned Senate chamber in front of thousands of influential people to stop yourself from lovingly brushing a hand over his cheek.

His armour has been repainted in vibrant colours. The helmet is forgone entirely to show him being proud of being a clone. Jesse next to him is an even more stark reminder, with the republic cog tattooed onto his face.

The tactic is genius. You’ll have to thank Fives for coming up with that.

“The truth is, the vague feeling of my birth parents is no longer even a memory. Can one miss a vague shape in the back of your mind? When you can’t articulate yourself in childhood, maybe, but as an adult, it is but a shape you will gradually forget with age.”

“Clones, however, never had that shape. Many of us have a warm feeling as the first memory of our parents. Being held, coddled and even loved. But the clones didn’t get that luxury. Forgive me for being a cynic, but if you have a problem with the Order’s practices of child-kidnapping - as I heard many put it - why are you not fighting for the clones to have an equal privilege to childhood?”

Your voice rings powerful and accusatory through the full auditorium. You sweep your eyes over the people at your eye level and below, before solidly locking them where Bail Organa stands in his senator-pod. He sends a nod.

Dogma next to you makes a very quiet sound, pitched low just enough for you and only you to hear. He clicks his tongue once, then pauses, and then clicks again.

A signal for news from the Wolfpack. Thank the Force your speech and time at the proverbial stand is coming to an end.

The entire interaction takes no more than three seconds. An uncomfortable silence to marinate most careless Senators in the implications you’ve made.

“My childhood was cut short after the hostilities on Naboo. I had to undergo more rigorous saber training, even as an empath, someone attuned to the living Force around us. A shadow warrior - a Sith of a lineage long-lost - stole any ability to live as a simple aura reader diplomat.”

“And yet that’s not even a fraction of the cruelty and hardship an average clone trooper goes through in a third of the time. As soon as they walk, they are taught combat. They rapidly age, Corellian Hells, THE OLDEST CLONES ARE THIRTEEN YEARS OLD!”

Your frustration poured out into the air around you. This is the closest you have gotten to yelling and losing your cool since you walked out of the Court Chamber at Dogma’s trial. You have no doubt that at least some of the senators or their aides must have a fraction of force sensitivity, at least enough to glimpse the carefully-masked rage you don’t let the average person see.

You lock eyes with the Chancellor on his high seat, the senator-pod that hovers in the centre of the chamber.

You stare at him with intensity unknown to an individual outside of the Jedi Order. Memories flick through your vision, a slideshow of your frustrations at the Senate, frustration shared by the Jedi Council, by your father Plo, by the Clones that have welcomed you into their dysfunctional humongous family.

The Chancellor smiles.

The dinner after resembles a blur of colours too bright to be real.

You barely eat. The worry of poison and backstabbing are ever present, loom over your figure like a mountain. You prod at the force to give you readings of everyone around you, even if they are in your eyesight for a fraction of a second. 

The auras are overwhelming. Despite diplomats being taught to never let emotion show on their face, the different hues bleed into their body language.

One can only hide their true nature for so long, you suppose.

You’re sitting at the head of the table for dinner, the centre of attention as usual. As the minutes tick by, it’s become more and more likely that this will not end well. The jabs and replies thrown at one another have a sickly-sweet tone, with oleander-filled honey dripping as they fly at their target. 

 Dogma and Jesse stand behind you, each on one side as your guards. No matter how many times you try to convince them to eat with you, they insist.

“The life of a senator isn’t for me, but I still want to keep you safe” has been the reply from Jesse each time. Fives is just glad you never asked him, letting him instead stay at your apartment for these drab meetings disguised as dinners.

And your sweet Dogma would follow you to the ends of the Galaxy.

“I suppose if the children had more contact with their parents after getting accepted into the order, they would be able to form healthy attachments, as opposed to having no attachments altogether,” you say to a Nautolan representative sitting half across the table. 

She narrows her eyes and nods, pausing to eat a bite out of her meal. “A friend of mine lost her son to the Jedi three decades ago. She still wonders why he never contacted her.”

Dogma searches in his memory. The only nautolan jedi he has heard of is Kit Fisto. It would perhaps fit the description of a son lost thirty years ago. He stores it as something to ask you about.

A mikkian senator sitting to your left looks over at your plate. The longer the supper goes on, the more apparent it is that you are not touching your food. The senator, some generation or two older than you, looks you over a bit before lowering his voice, so that only you and (unintentionally) Dogma can make out his words.

“Deary, you have not touched your meal. I sure do hope this affair has not sullied your appetite.” He adds a smile at the end of his statement, as if to deepen the few wrinkles his face has to make himself the caring older relative.

Your attention snaps to his face briefly, enough to not notice one of his head-tendrils outside your field of vision to twitch in the general direction of your plate. Had Dogma not been inadvertently alerted to his figure, he wouldn’t have noticed the tiny amount of clear, water-like liquid that flew off the tip of his head-tendril and landed at the edge of your plate.

He reacts before his brain catches up to his eyes.

“Don’t eat that!”

His yell makes the entire table stop whatever they are doing to look at him. 

“The food is poisoned!”

His aura flashes red with swirls of white. The mix of danger.

Jesse sweeps the room over in less than a millisecond and directs his gaze at your food. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but he trusts his brother with your safety above all. He takes a half-step closer towards the table.

You strategically stand up slowly and turn to Dogma. “How do you know?”

“The mikkian senator flicked some liquid into it with his head-tendril.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the whole room shift. Colours turn muted and tinged with yellow, orange and black.

The aura of the person in question turns a stark black. Fear.

“Impossible! I have done no such thing, clone!” he barks out and gets to his feet abruptly, nearly throwing his chair back.

Jesse, who has so far been stone-cold, willing to not react unless necessary, calmly looks him boldly in his eyes, an act that would have had consequences if he was in the GAR.

“You should know that ambassador (Y/N) can tell if you’re lying,” his tone is even and calculated.

“Of course I know that! That’s because I’m not lying.”

The old man is adamant, even if his eyes widen a fraction.

Your eyes flick over the room and land on a tray in the corner, on a table reserved for decorational flowers.

The tray floats over as the uncomfortable silence settles over the room. Some of the dinner’s participants notice it and gasp, making the others stare in horror as the tray lands in front of you.

You vaguely feel the presence of three Coruscant Guards running down the hall. By the time you land a metal food cover over the plate, they slam the door of the dining room open. 

Jesse and Dogma exchange a nod and Dogma nods. Jesse walks out to meet one of the troopers to exchange words.  You barely hear the words they whisper, but “poison” and “food” must be at least a part of the conversation. Dogma stays right behind you with a hand on his blaster. You don’t even have to turn to feel his anxiousness.

On instinct, you reach out with the hand that isn’t holding the tray in the air to grip the senator by the wrist with the Force. You press harder and hear something drop to the floor, an item no longer held in an iron grip he had on it. The noises of protests fall upon your deaf ears.

A guard moves in to handcuff the old man, only to notice a blaster on the floor and feel resistance while he moves one of the wrists into the cuffs. The item he dropped.

Jesse, now returning to you, plucks the tray out of the air to bring it back to one of the clones.

You let go of the Force and feel a massive weight of exhaustion hit you. Tilting your hand back just a couple of centimetres is enough for Dogma to grip it tightly with the palm not on his weapon.

You look at the Coruscant Guard talking to Jesse. His aura is full of baby blue and camo green. Confusion and worry.

“Please, take the food with the plate for analysis. Don’t touch it or take it out of the cover unless you are in safe distance. I don’t know what it is,” you say slowly. The words coming out of you feel foreign and you have to push them out, too exhausted to expend any emotions into the tone.

Dogma squeezes your hand three times. An “I love you” for when you can’t speak.

When you leave the dinner behind and get into your personal speeder, you pass out from exhaustion.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

#star wars #star wars x reader #the clone wars #tcw dogma #dogma x reader #clone trooper dogma #clone wars x reader #clone x reader #clone x reader bingo

[regallibellbright]

b[Image ID: The first image is a screenshot from the ending of Kingdom Hearts III, showing Isa, Lea, Roxas, and Xion sitting atop the clock tower in Twilight Town, eating sea salt ice cream together and raising it in greeting to their other friends. Roxas is wearing his outfit from the prologue of Kingdom Hearts 2, and Isa, Lea, and Xion finally wearing clothes that aren’t black leather trenchcoats marking them as members of Organization XIII. For Xion, this is her first non-trenchcoat outfit ever. (Isa and Lea were previously depicted in civilian clothes in Birth By Sleep, where they were teenagers.)

The second image shows an amigurumi of Xion in her outfit from this scene, a black blouse with ruffled sleeves and a belt, a short white pleated skirt, and dark brown boots that go up to mid-calf with laces crossing the lighter brown cuffs on top. The amigurumi has light blue safety eyes, and a v-shaped smile embroidered in black yarn. She is sitting on the side of a light fixture, with her legs bent off the side, in front of a box of Cheez-Its. This picture was taken of the amigurumi as originally made in about March 2019.

The third image shows the same amigurumi with some minor modifications. Her face has been modified, as shown in the fourth image, there is now a dark gray square buckle marking her belt, and her boots now have laces running up the tongue, bows tied at the final laces across her cuffs, and two pairs of silver studded buckles.

The fourth image shows a closeup of the amigurumi’s face, showing a small smile embroidered in black embroidery floss, and an embroidered black eyebrow over her left eye, the right portion of her forehead being covered by her bangs.

The fifth image shows the Xion amigurumi, next to a matching Lea amigurumi, sitting atop a jewelry box. Lea is posed so that his left leg is raised slightly off the jewelry box, while his other leg dangles off the edge. Xion sits neatly with her legs dangling off the edge of the box. Both of them have their right arms raised, waving at the viewer. End ID]

Alright, this took a moment to break down in full and get the pictures I wanted for her, but here she is! My KH3 Xion amigurumi, now slightly spiffed up! (Lea will get his own post.)

This gets a LOT more in-depth under the cut, as I break down what I did, and also precisely why her outfit is fantastic but this project was a labor of deepest, deepest love.

First, some technical specs. She’s about ten inches tall all told, and has wire inside to make her posable, as you can see. My original design for her took... eh, a couple months? I started almost as soon as we finished Kingdom Hearts 3. This is actually my second Xion amigurumi - my first was a lot smaller, my first attempt at doing something this ambitious without a pattern, and made in winter 2018 before she finally had a non-cult outfit. (So, yes, I finished one and then almost immediately started a second.) This refurbishing took about three days, and most of that involved my subpar embroidery skills.

I was proud of her before, to be clear - she’s some of my most ambitious work, especially given I’d only been crocheting for about a year and change when I made her, and I went to a LOT of effort getting screenshots of the two scenes it appears in from the ending cutscene. Which are both lit in sunset, making properly gauging the colors difficult. I realized after the fact that I’d missed the buckles on her shoes (as opposed to the laces, which I deliberately simplified,) and figured I’d add them later. Then when I started seriously working on Lea about a year later in summer 2020, I made a couple more detailed additions to his face (He kind of needs eyebrows with that widow’s peak, where the size of Xion’s bangs when crocheted meant I could get away without,) and they’re likely to be details I continue adding for the rest of the set now that I’ve cleared up enough of the tendonitis I got MAKING Lea. So I wanted my favorite character to stand up to her friends.

(In case you’re wondering: Hypermobility plus tendonitis plus not having a hypermobility-trained PT when you first realize you have tendonitis equals ‘having tendonitis for two years because the PT exercises you were given were working the wrong muscles’. Whoops. Good news is that has since been sorted.)

Let’s start with the new work first. The changes to Xion’s face are pretty straightforward - cut off the old smile, spent like an hour deciding what the best expression and placement for her new smile was, added an eyebrow. I don’t really need a new photo for that.

The bulk of it goes in the shoes, anyway.

[Image ID: A closeup of the Xion amigurumi’s boots, showing they are dark brown with lighter brown cuffs, black laces going up to the cuffs with bows tied between them, and two pairs of silver buckles across the bridge of each shoe. The lower buckle of each pair is smaller than the upper buckle. End ID]

I’m not particularly good at tying knots by default - my shoes are all slip-ons or buckled with Velcro, and my embroidery skills are pretty limited because I struggle to do any of the ornamental knots even though they’d be VERY useful for me. So instead of actually tying the embroidery off into bows, which seemed kind of risky, I figured out how to tie a handcuff knot, tightened it enough to serve the purpose, and then sewed them on VERY thoroughly. It looks a bit messy, and it probably is still not the most sturdy method here, but it should serve my purpose and it’d be relatively easy to remake and resew if need be.

I put A LOT of work into getting those crosses straight. Especially across the cuffs, which isn’t even visible anymore with the bows sewn on, but hey. I know I did it.

[Image ID: Closeup of Xion’s boots from the clock tower scene, showing the laces, cuffs, and that the studs on the upper buckles are larger than the studs on the lower set. End ID]

Like I said, I knew I’d missed some kind of braiding or the like on Xion’s boots a while ago. The wikis didn’t have great images, so I checked Youtube for the reMind version of the ending and screenshotted them myself.

Yeah, that’s not braiding. Those are studded buckles. ASYMMETRICALLY studded buckles.

This is far from the worst ‘this outfit is gorgeous but shouldn’t be made in crochet’ moment, compared to things that I had to deal with in the original design (and Lea, we’ll get into HIM later,) but it is definitely a pain. Especially since, with the scale of the doll as she is, I couldn’t simply embroider the smaller studs on - the stitches are too big for that. So instead, I took my three-strand, medium weight acrylic silver yarn, unraveled it, crocheted with the individual unraveled strands, and hoped desperately that it would maintain structural integrity long enough to sew them to the boots, especially because I have a habit of leaving too long a tail to sew on because I misjudge how long everything will need. But this worked! Yay. They’re not strictly accurate, but they do give the same detailing the buckle studs do, and it’s about the closest I can come given the scale of the doll and the work I’d already done - to make her entire body properly scaled, the boots are in the same medium-weight yarn as the one I had for her skintone, since they are her feet, and that means the stitches are a certain size as well. Besides, I’m about to get into the main details of her outfit, or:

Why Xion’s KH3 Ending Look is GORGEOUS, But A Nightmare To Crochet.

  For those of you who don’t crochet, there are a couple things to keep in mind for this.

First, crochet stitches are inherently different from knitting. By default, they tend to have a stiffer structure than knitting. This makes it the more popular craft choice for amigurumi, since it’s easy to make three-dimensional, rounded shapes that hold their shape in crochet. For example, a doll’s head or body - Xion’s head and torso are all one piece, with the arms and legs stitched on separately and the outfit crocheted overtop her main body. (The skirt is actually attached to the main structure of her torso, not just sewn on. I’ll get into that later.) Or that boot shape. What this doesn’t do well is drapery, like say... pleats. It’s also pretty iffy on ruffles, though scalloped shell patterns aren’t that bad. So you know, two of the most distinctive aspects of this outfit texturally are things that the medium isn’t very suited to.

The second thing is that while you can have some VERY elaborate stitch structures and varieties with crochet - just look up granny squares or crocheted lace - allowing for some interesting textural detailing, black yarn tends to eat ALL detail. It just doesn’t show. Not on crochet, at least, and certainly not with the medium-sized yarn weight I was using to match the size of the skintone yarn. (You can find black yarn at pretty much all sizes in any craft store without issue. Finding shades of beige or brown can be harder, especially in smaller sizes.)

Xion’s blouse, of course, is black details on black panels on black. You can’t embroider the buttons on, because it’s black. The belt buckle, once I checked, is also black. Everything’s black. And tragically, my plan for the buttons when I was first crocheting her (using very small safety eyes, which would be shiny) failed because anything small enough to work was too small to stay in the stitches. I added some textural details where I could, but they don’t show up at a distance. So since I was already going to rework her a bit to add a smile and the shoe buckles, I decided I’d add a dark gray belt buckle as well just to add a little visual variety to the blouse, even if it’s probably inaccurate, strictly speaking.

[Image ID: The first image is a closeup of Xion in a later scene from the ending, showing her kneeling on a beach. Image is focused on her blouse, showing details like the size of the sleeve ruffles (very small), the collar and paneling, two lines of six buttons each running above and below the belt, and the belt buckle, which is almost certainly black. I chose to ignore this because literally no other details would show up.

The second image is a closeup on the Xion amigurumi’s blouse, taken when I originally finished her, showing that she has a collar, a closer look at the ruffles, and black raised sections marking both the central plackett of her blouse and the belt. These are not very visible from a distance, as seen in that second image way back at the beginning.

The third image shows the blouse again, now with a dark gray buckle embroidered on, as well as the white pleated skirt. End ID]

The collar exists - it’s even sewn on - but not very visible, because black. I think I just added them in by working into the side of the blouse, which was a separate piece from the head, torso, and skirt. The plackett and belt are both lines of surface crocheted black, in different directions for each. Embroidering the belt buckle was all about placement. It still took me like half an hour to place it in a way I was happy with it, but it’s straightforward.

I actually didn’t make a note at the time how I made the ruffles, but I’m fairly confident it’s the same technique described here by Shiny Happy World - Single crochet increased enough per round to make a ruffled edge. The end ruffles are still proportionately bigger than the in-game outfit, but I don’t think it’s POSSIBLE to make them smaller at this scale. Plus, I’m happy with it.

And then there’s the skirt. Like I said before, it’s actually part of the main body - I’d have to check my notes to be sure, but I’m pretty confident Xion’s body was made from the bottom up, with a white section at the beginning and then switching to tan in a row where I worked back loops only where the skirt would begin. When I was ready to make the skirt, I then attached white yarn to the front loops and searched for a method to crochet pleats.

I will note once again that crocheting pleats is REALLY difficult, and shoutout to this tutorial by Sick Lil Monkeys and this tutorial from Tales of Butterflies detailing two techniques - the first technique is identical to the previous link’s, but the extra pictures helped a lot. The end result is a skirt that’s successfully pleated and holds its shape even while Xion does what she is meant to do - sit atop tall things with her friends. The particular design makes dolls that are pretty top-heavy, though, so getting that effect tends to require something behind her to brace. (Don’t be fooled by that picture - Xion has the obvious box backing her up, but Lea is also being braced by a small plush keychain. It’s just that his posture is already compensating for his MASSIVE hair.)

At some point I really need to make some little sea salt ice creams for everyone. Probably once I finish the set - I’m thinking I break back into the dollmaking with Namine (who I wanted to make anyway, as she deserves love and friends and ice cream, and who is by FAR the easiest of the group to crochet,) and then I think it will finally be Roxas’s turn. (Unless I put him off a bit longer to do Ahiru as Princess Tutu, since I already have the yarn for that after stumbling on a PERFECT shade of pink for the underskirt. But I’ve kept the trio un-reunited for quite a while.)

MAN that outfit’s gonna be tricky, though. And the hair spikes.

I have yarn picked out so I CAN eventually do Isa but he will absolutely be last of the five. He knows what he’s done.

#Kingdom Hearts #crochet #amigurumi #Xion kh #Xion #kh xion #Xion kingdom hearts #Kingdom Hearts III #crafting with Regalli #long post #seriously under the cut it is LONG and DETAILED #the Lea post will be 50% breakdown of what I did #50% detailing the breakdown I had MAKING that damn thing #the hair spikes. the plaid. HIS FUCKING PANTS. #for another day #but I couldn't resist taking a photo of them together #Twilight Town amigurumi #Twilight Town Amigurumi: Xion Edition

[hexonthepeach]

i just love lore so is there any background info or heacanons about the ncta organization you think is cool and would like the share with the class?

i obviously really love this kind of ask because i can unleash my headcanons like they aren't the deeply intricated stuff i have written stressing me out so thank you for asking!

(here's my notes i made on my phone over the last few weeks, some vague spoilers for wips and future works)

i have a pet theory it's been normalized that most modern spy works outside of hyperfictionalized superhero-adjacent stuff like Bourne, Bond, and M:I return to this era because our current media has an easier time talking about Russia and communism being the greatest evil rather than reflecting on Western imperialist and colonialist devastation in the global south

background/inspo/setting

the timeline in this AU is nebulous and jumps around a bit and no one really ages (maybe they're vampires?) but i'm keeping it limited to alternate versions of the 60s-90s based on the fact that this was the time of peak cold war era spy fiction and that's what i know best

other inspirational texts besides Mission: Impossible and the wide range of spy fiction and old school TV are Venture Bros., Ed Brubaker's work on Captain America (Marvel's attempts at spy stuff in general really), The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015), Atomic Blonde (2017), and a few more

the NCTA building is located somewhere in the Virginia side of the DMV. most of the agents have permanent residency in these areas or adjacent to them. the institutional cover is Neotech Industries which specializes in government-contracted tech advancement projects and has a full legal wing dedicated to institutional reform and emerging markets. many of the employees have no idea what they do but it's very dry and boring in a pre-internet age way and of course allows them special access to US intelligence networks. like the IMF in Mission: Impossible they're a multinational project mostly working against rich, evil, and powerful influences in global politics with a fierce interest in minimizing human costs and bettering the world in secret. aka the author wishes to make this spy fantasy not a spy fact

pretty much all SM groups exist in this AU and the original NCTA was started by my favorite 2nd gen group who you'll probably be able to guess easily but will be introduced in the Yuta installment. they're a shadow organization now that 127 has taken over but are still very much active. they're already name-dropped in some of my wips but expect to hear about Diamante, Exile, Artemis, and a few others.

section V

fun fact: the NCTA lacks fem agents because they are all actively recruited by Artemis, a rival/reluctant ally org of all-women agents. Black Widow but based because I love ggs. it's common knowledge they've infiltrated the agency but it's allowed to both supply counter-intel (Section V's responsibility) as well as keep the peace. one (or maybe more?) of the neos gets a dedicated romance with a rival agent in their installment and I'm looking forward to giving a peek inside that institution, especially wrt aespa's role/lore

speaking of future WIPs I think the one I'm looking forward to the most is Section V. I wanted to make an A-Team style ragtag group of misfits who also happen to be incredibly good at what they do. They're an independent wing of the NCTA who run counterintelligence and agency security and go out in the field as a team or as counsel with other agents for high-stakes operations

In lieu of any details here's their trope alignments and what I've constructed based on their existing personas:

Kun [Diplomacy] - as mentioned in D&S is Director of Internal Security so 2nd in command to the Director. He provides operational oversight but like Taeyong is an experienced active field agent that will participate in missions as an Ace Pilot/Mentor. Perpetually sighing at everyone but especially his team. I will write y/n with him eventually as he deserves but Ten will have to be involved in some capacity

Ten [Stealth] is the agency's top spy and responsible for NCTA training protocol. He's a Black Widow type with a troubled past but also The Heart/Team Mom of the group. Most likely to use lethal force in combat so rightly feared by everyone in the team and the agency with the exception of the Directors. Trained Johnny and a few of the other agents (amongst other things) and never lets them forget it

Winwin [Diplomacy] is the Face of the group and the one most in the public eye. He's there to provide cover/legitimacy for operations needing access to elite institutions or to play roles such as a wealthy buyer. Very shy and reserved when he's not playing a part but intelligent and knowledgeable and worldly. Also in the vein of Mr. T absolutely terrified of flying.

Xiaojun [Stealth] is Kun's right hand and the Brains of the op and computing/cryptography expert. He's expected to do more field ops as part of the younger trio and is fully capable but is more dedicated to eye-in-the-sky technology and providing direction and information. The Lancer to Yangyang's Hero, he tries to keep the impulsivity of the younger agents in check while constantly being steamrolled by them.

Hendery [Combat] is the technical/weapons/demolitions expert of the group. Goofy, sweet personality but most likely to do the most damage in the shortest amount of time, by accident or not. Acts as The Heavy with a heart of gold and Yangyang's field partner and is the glue keeping the younger trio together. Comic relief as usual but also extremely reliable and kind and gets along well with non-Section agents. Most often deployed as Winwin's bodyguard in public-facing ops but absolutely useless with women (in a fun way)

As regards sub-units I have a personal comfort hardline policy on writing certain Dream members T-rated-only (Renjun, Chenle, Jisung) so future wips are a bit out except for them working with older agents. however my next big WIP in the vein of D&S is the story of how Mark gets recruited into the agency by Haechan's partner and ruins his life (literally) before they eventually become best frenemys. I'm not going to let on who wins y/n's heart in that one except that the love triangle in this one will not end with an OT3 (unlike a few others) and the loser will get his own one-shot to make up for it

Yangyang [combat] is Ten's understudy/apprentice and the group wildcard. If this were a TV show he'd be the main character/new guy (yeah you know my bias now) who is always getting into trouble and somehow slipping out of it. Wants badly to be an international man of mystery but no one takes him seriously. Personality quirk is always saying what no one else in their right mind would say aloud, and usually at the wrong time.

Didi line will have their own dedicated series because I love them and their chaotic gamer energy and would like to throw them against an enemy spy or spies that would toy with them with a comedy angle while the older agents have to help them find their groove

Project: DREAM

You'll meet more Dream members but they're all apprenticed to older agents or working specialized roles within the agency at current writing. Their program is important because they're NCTA's attempt to build agents from the ground up, providing advanced covers while crosstraining them in intelligence roles. so I've approached them more like child superheroes than the others with double lives within double lives. For 5Dream specifically:

Jaemin is Doyoung’s intern learning legal and financial (corporate espionage)

Jisung is Taeyong's leadership intern and personal assistant/bodyguard

Renjun is the Q character supporting Research under Section V oversight and working directly with field agents to provide weaponry and spytech

Chenle is working in medical which is a part of Research along with Renjun, doubling as a combat medic and agent health assessor

Jeno is partnered with Chenle currently (you'll meet him in D&S follow-up) but has been cycled through multiple roles and trainings previously for field agent advancement under Mark and Haechan

They've all survived placements with semi-retired agents and agents (getting paired with mentors to put the fear of God into them), as well as working with newer recruits in basic field training.

rookies

i have plans for the Rookies even though I've made Sungtaro into the surveillance team, but definitely will find a place for them once I actually have time to watch their content on Viki and especially if they debut. What can I say, Shohei has my attention as a big ol' goth boi with a government assigned eagle persona. He better be in NCT 2023 (hopefully later rather than sooner with this fucked up winter schedule) and I need more interactions with him and Johnny stat

thanks again for the ask and hope you have an excellent holiday break and new year

#hex peach answers #hex peach updates #future wips #ncta au

[poptropicashitposts]

do you have hcs for the main 4 villains/the Erewhon Gang villains as a friendgroup? i think they’d have an interesting dynamic :Oc

man I am SO sorry this has taken me so long to answer i mustn't of saved my last attempt at answering this ask but I've been adding to the list as I think of more bc!!! I love them all so much

so what the heck happened to them after the events of supervillian island man @/poptropica we NEED to know

black widow, binary bard & dr. hare are all relatively similar in age but then you have captain crawfish who is like. boomer.

by similar age i mean like. binary bard is a cyborg from the early medieval period so he's actually like 1400 years older than everyone else but PHYSICALLY the same age.

and i like to think captain crawfish's humor is still more modern than binary bard's because of this.

dr. hare & binary bard bond over space bc like... they've both been and are absolute nerds about it but they're also rivals and it's like

"haha i would tell you about A-ST384WK and V-ST203DJ but you've probably never heard of them" "oh you mean the ones in the same category as *something really smart abt space*"

black widow and captain crawfish have a similar thing going on but with like, thievery.

"you wouldn't DARE guess the value of all the treasures I've stolen" "okay but did you steal the scream"

crawfish is always preaching about how nobody steals things the "good old fashioned way" anymore.

in retaliation, black widow stole his stump leg while he was sleeping and told him if he could steal it "the good old fashioned way" he could have it back.

he just resorts to violence instead.

binary bard ironically sings sea shanties with crawfish purely to spite black widow who DESPISES them.

captain crawfish is the most sane out of them all, but in like the least sane way possible.

binary bard & black widow are ALWAYS winding eachother up and talking smack to eachother.

everyday they wake up and choose violence.

dr. hare and binary bard often have bonding moments over nerd stuff and science which leads to bard & hare being unironically quite close and often turn to eachother for comfort and advice.

no one takes dr. hare seriously when he's mad.

the won't admit it but black widow & dr. hare have a whole lot on common bc they're the only ones similar in age (and not from the medieval period)

this is really universal but they have peak found family dynamic :,) and they're healing... and mutually beneficial to eachother... and it's NICE and they live HAPPY lives as FRIENDS

#poptropica #binary bard #dr. hare #captain crawfish #poptropica black widow #i love them all sm.... i just want them to be happy... #ill probs add more to this list in the future knowing me hbehhsdb #poptropica pls we need more of them DESPERATELY #ty for the ask

[reds-self-ships]

🔍 The Adventure of the Detection Club

Chapter 12: Opening Arguments

Table of Contents & Trigger Warnings

⚠ Chapter Specific Warnings: Contains allusions to spoilers for The Great Ace Attorney 2, as well as passing references made to blood and gore.

The next morning Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey Defendant Lobby

Ryunosuke Naruhodo quickly sorted his way through a stack of papers that made up the official court record for the case, shuffling his way through at such a speed that he looked as though he was certainly doing his best not to drop any.

Redford took a long drink from the flash of cocoa that Iris had specially prepared for him, whilst Susato kept a watch over Ryunosuke.

The door swung open with a loud crash as Sholmes barged his way into the room. “Morning, folks!” he roared.

Ryunosuke gave a yelp as he promptly dropped the pages of the court record across the floor. “Sh-Sholmes! Look at what you made me do!”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry about that Mr. Naruhodo—”

“Just help me pick these up!”

Ryunosuke fell to his knees, along with Sholmes, frantically picking them up and trying to re-organise them, all whilst Ryunosuke swore several oaths under his breath in Japanese.

“Apologies if I sound rude or anything, Susato, but is Ryunosuke always so…‘jumpy’ before a trial like this…?” Redford asked quietly.

“No…well…at least not that I’ve ever seen before…” said Susato, carefully playing with a loop of her hair.

“Me neither,” said Iris. “Normally when he’s a little anxious, his eyes dart around the room like no tomorrow. But this is definitely a new one…”

“Well it explains the way he was acting during breakfast this morning. With the way his eyes were rolling about in his skull, I thought they were going to roll out of his head or something. If I were trying to maintain eye contact with him, I think I’d’ve ended up giving up.”

The bailiff suddenly appeared from the entrance and called: “Now hearing the case of Regina V. Ninate, will all parties please report to courtroom no. 3 immediately!”

Just in time, Ryunosuke managed to get the papers together and get the court record back into its cardboard folder again.

“That’s our cue, Mr. Naruhodo,” said Susato.

“Well, I’ll be cheering you on from the dock. Good luck, you two!” said Redford with a bow.

Sholmes flicked the front rim of his hat. “And likewise, we’ll be cheering you on from the gallery!”

Iris flicked the front of her own forehead. “Good luck, everybody!”

——————————

The judge hit his gavel several times to bring the chattering of the gallery to a close, before clearing his throat and pushing his pince-nez glasses up his nose.

“Court is now in session for the trial of Redford Ninate!” he announced.

“The defence is ready, milord!” exclaimed Ryunosuke with a start.

“The prosecution is more than prepared, milord,” said Abidon, looking over the top of his half-moon glasses.

“And you,” continued the judge, “our six members of the jury, randomly chosen from citizens across the city of London, are you ready?”

The first juror, a young woman with her short and curly brown hair tied up with a red and white spotted handkerchief, rolled up a sleeve and flexed her bicep. “Ready and riveting to go!”

The second juror, a rather frail-looking old man dressed in a black suit and tall top-hat, stroked his sharp triangular chin with a bony hand. “I’m ready to commit the facts of this case to loving memory…kept in the grace of God’s right hand.”

The third juror, a familiar-looking Japanese man in a brown kimono with messy black hair and moustache, with several cats climbing over him, struck various poses. “I! AM! READY! BANZAI!”

The fourth juror, a tall man with black finely-combed hair in a widow’s peak and an aquiline nose, removed a pipe from the pocket of his dressing gown and began to smoke it. “I am ready to perceive the truth behind this case.”

The fifth juror, a man in a black tuxedo, top-hat with a purple band and a matching-coloured waistcoat stroked his moustache after he fiddled with his monocle. “I, the great Horace Velmont, will give everything that I can to this case!”

Finally, the sixth juror, a young girl with a black and white striped sweater, a mask covering the top part of her face and a black knitted cap on her head, said: “Yeah! I’m ready to go, guv’na!”

The judge nodded his head. “Excellent. Prosecutor Abidon, isn’t it?”

“Yes, milord?”

“You may begin with your opening statement.”

Ryunosuke looked around the courtroom nervously.

(It’s been a while since I’ve last been here. I just hope I’m able to get Redford off of these charges…for his sake…)

He looked over to Redford, sat in the defendant’s chair in the dock. And as he did so, Redford winked.

(Oh my heart…!)

“Mr. Naruhodo? Are you sure that you’re OK?” whispered Susato. “You’re looking at Red in the face.”

“Eh—sorry?”

“I said: ‘Are you OK? You’re looking a little red in the face’.”

“Is everything alright, defence?” asked the judge.

“Defence, you are aware that talking over the prosecution whilst it is attempting to make its opening argument is rude, arrogant and something that could lead to you being removed from this courtroom for contempt of court?” said Abidon with a glare. “I’m not sure how you Japanese like to do things, but it is the way we British people do things in this sacred court of law, and it is to be respected and heeded.”

“Sorry!” exclaimed Ryunosuke with a start. “Carry on. As you were…”

(Oh great! A smaller, jumped up, discounted-version of Lord van Zieks…that’s just what we really need right about now…)

“As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted…” said Abidon as he unfurled a scroll and held it in front of him. “The victim in this case was a Mr. Harris Thomas, a member of the same organisation as the defendant—known as ‘The Detection Club’, an organisation for crime writers to meet and work on their crime novels I believe.

“The victim had been expelled from the club for missed payment of membership fees, and a new member, Dexter Collins, was due to be inaugurated into the club the day before yesterday through a special ceremony. A ceremony that the defendant himself was placed in charge of organising and arranging.

“The defendant arranged ahead of time that he was to meet with the victim to formally inform him of his expulsion at the same time as began these ceremonial preparations. The prosecution, therefore, asserts that the defendant did, with malicious intent and malice of forethought, met with the victim beforehand and killed him unlawfully.

“He did so by hitting him repeatedly over the head with this—” Abidon reached under the prosecution’s bench and took out the alleged murder weapon, holding it high for the benefit of the court. “—this skull, which serves as a mascot for the club, affectionately referred to as ‘Norman’.”

“Oh my! An actual human skull? How frightening!” exclaimed the judge. “Still, how can you assert that it was the defendant who committed this horrifying crime?”

“Because, milord,” replied Abidon, “the defendant was the only one who had a key to this locked room mystery—the only door to the room is several inches thick and designed to be entirely impenetrable, as is the rest of the room. The windows are only able to open a few centimetres in width, and the entire room is located on the third floor of a building on High Window Avenue. And a cursory investigation has proven that there is no way for anybody to hide themselves within the room.”

“Very compelling evidence, I must admit.”

“HOLD IT!”

“If that is the case,” said the second juror, “I believe that we may finally be able to put this matter to rest. Dearly beloved, let us join hands together in prayer to mourn this defendant’s hopeless case. A truly, tragic death, indeed!”

With a knock of his hand against the jury bench, a fireball flew through the air and landed into the “guilty” side of the giant set of scales behind the judge, tilting them towards the right.

(Yikes! Already it’s not looking good!)

“An excellent opening argument indeed, Sir Prosecutor, but not necessarily one that would be enough to force a conviction in my opinion,” said the fourth juror, tenting his fingers together. “However, I would wish to hear more on this matter. It is only whenever we have eliminated every possible lead that we may know for certain what, exactly, has transpired.”

“I am inclined to agree with Juror #4,” said the judge with a nod.

Abidon nodded back in response.

“I acknowledge that particular fact, milord. As such, the prosecution would now like to call its first witnesses to the stand—Detective Athelney Jones of Her Majesty’s Metropolitan Police Service and Dr. Yujin Mikotoba, the police’s current acting chief coroner and medical examiner.”

#the adventure of the detection club #stories #fics #self insert #OTP: Red Dragon

[artificialqueens]

Ungodly Hour, Chapter One (Jaida x Nicky) - Scarlet Bloo

a/n: Hi! I started this fic back when the fic challenge was announced and here it finally is, (2?) months later, 3 days from the deadline. It’s been a ride, but I’ve finally gotten it to a place where I’m happy with it, and while not every chapter will posted during the challenge I’ve at least managed to get one in!

summary: Nicky is crushing hard on a bubbly soccer playing sorority sister. It’s unusual for her to ever be into anyone like this, and all she wants is to be on her radar. Popular girl Jaida is captain of the basketball team, and while she’s usually smart, French just isn’t her forte. Lucky for her, Nicky is a native speaker, so she makes it her mission to get her as her tutor. 

Challenge notes:

A large amount of the story is told from Jaida’s point of view. 

Close friends of the main characters: Widow, Heidi and Akeria (who will become more prominent characters in future chapters.)

The title is a song by Chloe and Halle Bailey. 

Nicky snuck a look in Jan Sport’s direction, her heart tingling as she absorbed her beauty. She sighed, knowing the preppy, popular sorority girl had absolutely no idea she even existed. It was laughable that she ever entertained the idea of a relationship with her, even if it was only in the late hours of the night, a fantasy to procrastinate her studies with. But with her long blonde hair, muscular arms and smiling eyes, how couldn’t Nicky be so intrigued by her? This was a new feeling. Nicky hardly ever found herself interested in anyone, let alone a woman. It was surreal to her, but it somehow felt right.

She cast her eyes away from Jan and tried to focus on the Professor at the front of the lecture hall. Unsurprisingly, it was nothing of value to Nicky. Miss Coulee was voicing her disappointment with the class after 70% of the class had gotten less than a C in the last exam. Nicky rolled her eyes, looking down at the big red “A!” circled on her own paper. Despite this achievement, she was regretting her decision to take French. Sure, it being her first language definitely made the classes easier, but left her so unsatisfied with how little she had to push herself to pass. 

“Of course you got an A”, Gigi whispered to Nicky. 

She had a defeated look on her face and Nicky felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. Gigi and Nicky weren’t close, but seeing as they’d been sitting next to each other every French lecture since September, they’d gotten to know a fair bit about each other. Like Nicky, Gigi was a fashion major but was taking French so she could “make it big in Paris one day” and Nicky knew academics wasn’t her strong suit. 

“Yeah well,” Nicky smiled sweetly, “French is my language, fashion is yours.”

Gigi seemed content with that answer and nodded satisfactorily as Coulee dismissed the class and all that could be heard was the snapping shut of laptops and notebooks and friendly chatter.

Jan lingered by the door giggling with her friends and Nicky’s gaze locked in on her like a missile. She was beautiful, and she could help but trace each curve of her body with her eyes. She felt her hands go clammy as she found herself lost in her animated expressions. Jan was different to Nicky’s image of a popular girl, she didn’t strut around campus like she owned the place or go through millions of relationships. She radiated positive energy and it just made Nicky all the more eager to get to know her. She wasn’t usually this into people, but Jan Sport had turned her into a pile of mush.

“You’re staring again.” Gigi’s teasing voice brought a blush to Nicky’s cheeks. She had caught her staring at Jan in awe on multiple occasions and was one of the very few people she’d actually admitted the crush to. The only other person who she’d told was her roommate and best friend, Widow. But her other friends? Definitely not. They were all art majors, and while Jan was taking music, it wasn’t really the same thing. Nicky guessed it made them the artsy crowd, and therefore substantially less popular. With the exception of Gigi and Widow, who had been in an on and off relationship with a soccer player since freshman year, Nicky’s friends spent lunch breaks talking as much shit as they could about Charles College’s elite. And it was somewhat justified. Most of the popular kids were complete pieces of shit. 

Case in point - Jaida Essence Hall, Charles College’s star athlete. The girl walked around like she owned the place, and Nicky guessed she kind of did. At the snap of a finger someone would appear at her side, eager to grant any and every wish. Or jump into her lap. Or stick their tongue down her throat. She didn’t look as confident as usual right then though, sitting fists curled around the edge of her paper in the lecture hall. Everyone else, including Coulee, had left, but Jaida remained in her seat. She must have failed the test too, but Nicky didn’t feel much sympathy for the girl. Charles college was best known for its Basketball, with its best players usually ending up in the pros, and during their years at Charles, they’d get handed everything on a silver platter. Maybe it was unfair, and a tiny bit vindictive, but Nicky got a sense of triumph from knowing that Coulee was failing the captain of the women’s basketball team along with everyone else. 

“Wanna grab something to eat?” Gigi asked as she gathered her books.

“Can’t, I have to finish up all of last week’s design work.” Nicky got up, but didn’t follow her to the door, “Go on ahead. I need to check the schedule before I go, I can’t remember when my next tutorial is.”

“Okay,” Gigi said, “I’ll see you later!”

“Later!” Nicky called after her. 

At the sound of her voice, Jan paused in the doorway and turned her head. It was impossible to stop the flush that rose in Nicky’s cheeks. This was the first time they’d ever made eye contact, and she didn’t know how to respond. In the end, she settled for a small nod of greeting. There. Cool, casual yet wouldn’t come off as rude. Her heart skipped a beat when the corner of Jan’s mouth lifted into a faint grin. She waved in response, and then she was gone. Nicky stared at the empty doorway. Her pulse exploded in a gallop. After six weeks of breathing in the same air in the stuffy lecture hall, Jan Sport had finally noticed her. She wished she was brave enough to go after her. Maybe ask her to grab a coffee. Or dinner. Or brunch - hell, is brunch even a big thing in America? But her feet stayed glued in place because she was a total coward. She was terrified she’d say no, but even more terrified she’d say yes. 

Nicky was in a good place when she started college. Her issues solidly behind her, her guard lowered. She was ready to date again, and she did. She dated several guys, but other than her ex, Kayla, none of them had been female, and none of them had made her body tingle the way Jan Sport did, and that freaked her out. 

Baby steps. That was her therapist’s favourite piece of advice, and she couldn’t deny that the strategy had helped her a lot. Focus on the small victories, Sasha had always advised. So, today’s victory, she nodded at Jan and she waved at her. Next class, maybe she’d wave back. And the one after that, maybe she’d bring up the coffee, dinner or brunch idea. She took a breath as she headed down the aisle, clinging to that feeling of victory, however miniscule it may be.

Jaida had failed. She’d fucking failed. For the last 15 years before she’d joined Charles College, they had handed out A’s like tic tacs. But the year she decided to take a French class? She had gotten stuck with Shea Coulee. It was official. This woman was her archenemy. Just the sight of her flowery handwriting—which filled up every inch of available space in the margins of Jaida’s midterm—made her want to scream, rip up the page, and leave education indefinitely. Jaida had been passing all her other classes, but this (almost ironic) F in French was completely bringing her average down. Normally, she had no problem keeping her G.P.A up. Despite what she knew a lot of Charle’s population believed, she wasn’t dumb. And the worst thing about Charles? Their dean demanded excellence—academically and athletically. While other schools were lenient toward athletes, Charles has a zero-tolerance policy. When she spoke to Coulee before class, she’d bluntly told her that unless she was going to find her own private tutor, she’d have no choice but to turn up to extra tutorials which overlapped with basketball practice. It really was a lose-lose situation.

 Jaida’s frustration manifested itself in the form of an audible groan, and from the corner of her eye, she saw someone jerk in surprise. Jaida jumped too, because here she thought she was wallowing in her misery alone. However, the girl from the back row had stuck around and was headed towards Coulee’s desk. Staci? Selena? Jaida couldn’t remember her name, probably because she’d never thought to ask for it before. She was pretty, though. A lot prettier than Jaida had ever realised. Perfect features, dark hair, a petite hourglass figure. How had she never noticed her before now? Her skinny jeans clung to a round, perky ass and her round breasts peaked slightly out of her v neck. 

“Everything okay?” the girl asked with a pointed look. Jaida murmured a reply under her breath. She really wasn’t in the mood to talk right then. 

The girl raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow in Jaida’s direction, “Sorry, was that english?” 

Jaida balled up her paper and scraped her chair back, “I said everythings fine.”

“Okay, then,” The girl shrugged and continued down the steps. As she picked up the clipboard that contained the tutorial schedule, Jaida flung on her jacked, then shoved her  pathetic midterm into her  backpack and zipped it up. The dark-haired girl headed back to the aisle. Sophie? Sabrina? The S sounded right, but the rest was a mystery. She had her midterm in hand, but Jaida didn’t sneak a peek because she assumed she failed just like everyone else.

Jaida let her pass before she stepped into the aisle. She followed her up to the exit, suddenly realizing how tiny she was compared to herself—she was one step below her yet could see the top of her head. Just as they reached the door, the girl stumbled on absolutely nothing and the books in her hand clattered to the floor.

“Shit. I’m such a klutz.”

She dropped to her knees and so did Jaida, because contrary popular belief, she wasn’t heartless, and the polite thing to do was help her gather her books.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine,” she insisted.

But Jaida’s hand had already connected with her midterm, and her jaw dropped when she saw her grade.

“Fucking hell. You aced it?”  Jaida demanded.

The girl gave a sweet smile. “Well, I am French. I thought you’d have been able to tell from the accent.”

“Holy shit.” Jaida felt like she’d just bumped into Coco fuckin’ Chanel and she was dangling the secrets to her  universe under her nose. “Can I read your answers?”

Her brows quirked up again. “That’s rather forward of you, don’t you think? We don’t even know each other.”

Jaida rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking you to take your clothes off, baby. I just want to peek at your midterm.”

“Baby? Goodbye forward, hello presumptuous.”

“Would you prefer miss? Ma’am maybe? I’d use your name but I don’t know it.”

“Of course you don’t.” She sighed. “It’s Nicolette. Nicky for short.” Then she paused meaningfully. “Jaida.”

Okay, she was way off on the S thing. And Jaida didn’t miss the way she emphasized her name as if to say, Ha! I know yours, bitch! Nicky collected the rest of her books and stood up, but Jaida didn’t hand over her midterm. Instead, she hopped to her feet and started flipping through it. As she skimmed her answers, her spirits plummeted even lower, because if this is what  Coulee was looking for, she was screwed. There was a reason she was a  geography major, for gods sake—she dealt in facts. Black and white. This happened at this time to this person and here was the result. Nicky’s answers focused on detailed analysis on texts Jaida couldn’t even translate in the first place. 

“Thanks.”  Jaida gave her the booklet, then cracked her knuckles. “Hey, listen. Do you…would you consider…” she  shrugged. “You know…”

Nicky’s  lips twitched as if she was  trying not to laugh. “Actually, I don’t know.”

Jaida let out a breath. “Will you tutor me?”

Her grey eyes—slightly green and surrounded by thick black eyelashes—went from surprised to skeptical in a matter of seconds.

“I’ll pay you,” Jaida added hastily.

“Oh. Um. Well, yeah, of course I’d expect you to pay me. But…” She shaked her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Jaida bit back her disappointment. “C’mon, do me a solid. If I fail this makeup, my GPA will implode. Please?” She flashed a smile, the one that made her dimples pop out and never failed to make people melt.

“Does that usually work?” she asked curiously.

“What?“

“The winning innocent pageant girl smile… Does it help you get your way?”

“Always,” the taller girl answered without hesitation.

“Almost always,” Nicky corrected. “Look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time. I’m already juggling school and work, and with the winter showcase coming up, I’ll have even less time.”

“Winter showcase?” Jaida said blankly.

“Right, I forgot. If it’s not about basketball or your big pageants, then it’s not on your radar.”

“Now who’s being presumptuous? You don’t even know me.”

There’s a beat, and then she sighed. “I’m a fashion major, okay? And the arts faculty puts on two major displays every year, the winter showcase and the spring one. The winner gets a five thousand dollar scholarship. It’s kind of a huge deal, actually. Important industry people fly in from all over the country to see it. Fashion houses, investors, big magazines…. So, as much as I’d love to help you—”

“You would not,” Jaida grumbled. “You look like you don’t even want to talk to me right now.”

Her little you-got-me shrug was grating. “I have to go finish up some designs. I’m sorry you’re failing this course, but if it makes you feel better, so is everyone else.”

Jaida narrowed her eyes. “Not you.”

“I can’t help that I was born into a french speaking household.”

“Well, I want your help.”

Jaida was two seconds from dropping to her knees and begging her, but she edged towards the door. “You know there’s a study group, right? I can give you the number for—”

“I’m already in it,” Jaida muttered, embarrassed.

“Oh. Well, then there’s not much else I can do for you. Good luck on the makeup test. Baby.”

She darted out the door, leaving Jaida staring after her in frustration. Unbelievable. Everyone at this college would have cut their leg off to help her out. But this girl? Ran away like she’d just asked her to give up her first born so they could give it to Rumplestiltskin. And now  Jaida was right back to where she was before Nicky-not-with-an-S gave her that faintest flicker of hope. Completely fucking screwed.

#rpdr fanfiction #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #widow von du #jan sport #gigi goode #jaida x nicky #fic challenge #black girl magic fic #diversity fic #lesbian au #college au #s12 #ungodly hour #scarlet bloo #concrit welcome #submission

[laannie0803]

Lord Gerold Lannister, apodado el Dorado, fue cabeza de la Casa Lannister y, como tal, Señor de Roca Casterly, Escudo de Lannisport y Guardián del Occidente durante los reinados de Aerys I y Maekar I Targaryen.

Gerold fue el segundo hijo de Lord Damon Lannister y Lady Cerissa Brax. Tuvo un hermano mayor, Tybolt.

Cuando su hermano mayor Tybolt se convirtió en Señor de Roca Casterly en 210 d.C., Gerold se quedó junto a él como su consejero. Mantenía una correspondencia amigable con Lady Rohanne Webber, que daba ciertas esperanzas sobre un matrimonio entre ellos. Sin embargo, Lady Rohanne aseguraba que Gerold nunca abandonaría voluntariamente los placeres de Lannisport y el esplendor de Roca Casterly por un pequeño señorío, teniendo más influencia como hermano y consejero de Lord Tybolt de lo que jamás podría esperar como marido de ella. Eventualmente, Gerold y Rohanne se casarían, teniendo cuatro hijos.

A la muerte de su hermano mayor, se convirtió en regente de su sobrina de tres años Cerelle, la cual murió poco después en 213 d.C.. Como Señor de Roca Casterly, Lord Gerold fue capaz, afable e inteligente. Gobernó durante treinta y un años pero no fue querido por su pueblo ya que se extendió el rumor de que había asesinado a su hermano y a su sobrina. Se decía que las tragedias que enfrentó eran prueba suficiente de que él era un matasangre. Las tragedias que ocurrieron en años posteriores probaban, para los enemigos de Gerold, que era un asesino. En 230 d.C. su amada segunda esposa, Lady Rohanne Webber, desapareció en circunstancias misteriosas, menos de un año después de dar a Gerold su cuarto hijo, Jason. Tywald, el mayor de sus hijos gemelos, murió en batalla en 233 d.C. mientras era escudero de Lord Robert Reyne de Castamere durante la Rebelión Peake.

Se dice que él fue la clave para que el Gran Consejo de 233 d.C. coronara a Egg, el cuarto hijo del difunto rey Maekar I Targaryen, como Aegon V Targaryen.

En 235 d.C. su hijo Tion se casó con la prometida de su gemelo Tywald, Ellyn Reyne. Se decía que Lord Gerold se oponía a este matrimonio pero la pena, la edad y la enfermedad lo habían convertido en una pálida sombra de lo que había sido y, finalmente, no pudo oponerse. Siendo Lord Gerold viudo dos veces y sin intención de casarse nuevamente, Ellyn se convirtió en Señora de Roca Casterly en funciones pero no en nombre.

En 236 d.C. se desató la Cuarta Rebelión Fuegoscuro. El rey Aegon V reunió a sus vasallos leales que vinieron de todos los rincones de los Siete Reinos para proteger el Trono de Hierro. Los realistas perdieron pocos hombres, pero entre ellos murió su hijo y heredero Tion. La muerte del segundo de sus "gloriosos gemelos" debería haber quebrado a Lord Gerold, pero fue exactamente lo contrario; Gerold se levantó y tomó firme control sobre el Oeste, intentando hacer todo lo posible por preparar a su tercer hijo, Tytos, para sucederlo. En 239 d.C. Lord Gerold se enteró de boca de su nuera Jeyne Marbrand que la viuda de Tion, Ellyn Reyne, había seducido a su hijo Tytos, esposo de Jeyne. Furioso, Gerold decidió sacar a Ellyn de Roca Casterly para siempre; cuervos volaron y en una quincena, Ellyn Reyne desposó a Lord Walderan Tarbeck, Señor de Torre Tarbeck.

Lord Gerold murió en 244 d.C. por un fallo en la vejiga, incapaz de orinar. Fue sucedido por su tercer hijo, Tytos, de veinticuatro años.

Lord Gerold Lannister, nicknamed The Golden, was head of House Lannister and as such Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Guardian of the West during the reigns of Aerys I and Maekar I Targaryen.

Gerold was the second son of Lord Damon Lannister and Lady Cerissa Brax. He had an older brother, Tybolt.

When his older brother Tybolt became Lord of Casterly Rock in 210 AD, Gerold stayed with him as his advisor. He maintained a friendly correspondence with Lady Rohanne Webber, who gave some hope of a marriage between them. Yet Lady Rohanne claimed that Gerold would never willingly abandon the pleasures of Lannisport and the splendor of Casterly Rock for a small lordship, having more influence as Lord Tybolt's brother and adviser than he could ever hope for as her husband. Eventually, Gerold and Rohanne would marry, having four children.

Upon the death of his older brother, he became regent to his three-year-old niece Cerelle, who died shortly thereafter in AD 213. As Lord of Casterly Rock, Lord Gerold was capable, personable, and intelligent. He ruled for thirty-one years but was not liked by his people as the rumor spread that he had murdered his brother and niece. The tragedies he faced were said to be proof enough that he was a bloodslayer. The tragedies that occurred in later years proved, to Gerold's enemies, that he was a murderer. In 230 A.D. his beloved second wife, Lady Rohanne Webber, disappeared under mysterious circumstances, less than a year after giving Gerold their fourth child, Jason. Tywald, the eldest of his twin sons, died in battle in 233 AD. while he was squire to Lord Robert Reyne of Castamere during the Peake Rebellion.

He is said to have been the key to the Great Council of 233 AD. will crown Egg, the fourth son of the late King Maekar I Targaryen, as Aegon V Targaryen.

In 235 AD his son Tion married his twin Tywald's fiancee, Ellyn Reyne. Lord Gerold was said to be opposed to this marriage but grief, age and illness had turned him into a pale shadow of what he had been and, ultimately, he could not oppose. Being Lord Gerold widowed twice and with no intention of remarrying, Ellyn became Mistress of Casterly Rock in acting but not in name.

In 236 A.D. The Fourth Blackfire Rebellion broke out. King Aegon V gathered his loyal vassals who came from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms to protect the Iron Throne. The royalists lost few men, but among them their son and heir Tion died. The death of the second of his "glorious twins" should have broken Lord Gerold, but it was the exact opposite; Gerold rose and took firm control over the West, trying to do his best to prepare his third son, Tytos, to succeed him. In 239 A.D. Lord Gerold learned from his daughter-in-law Jeyne Marbrand that Tion's widow, Ellyn Reyne, had seduced her son Tytos, Jeyne's husband. Furious, Gerold decided to get Ellyn out of Casterly Rock for good; Crows flew and within a fortnight, Ellyn Reyne married Lord Walderan Tarbeck, Lord of Tower Tarbeck.

Lord Gerold died in 244 AD. due to a failure in the bladder, unable to urinate. He was succeeded by his third son, Tytos, aged twenty-four.

#gerold lannister #rohanne webber #tion lannister #tywald lannister #tytos lannister #jason lannister

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

OC Profile Laurie Venkman as a child (The Real Ghostbusters.)  

Bio

Name: Laurie Macy Venkman.

Age: 2 years old when first introduced to Peter. 

Ethnicity: Caucasian with melting pot of family roots. Irish runs from both sides of her family, but there's differences. French and Welsh from Mom's side. German, Dutch, and English on Dad's.

Species: Human.

Height: 29 inches.   

Weight: 18 pounds. 

Hair color: Dark brown like her dad’s.

Hair style: Chin length hair, but eventually grows to be shoulder length.   

Eye color: Cornflower blue like her mom’s.

Birthday: September 13th, 1983.

Gender: Female.

Sexual Orientation: N/A for now.

Powers (if any): No...she’s a little girl. What would she have? Power to be adorable? 

Distinguishing features (if any): Nothing too unique, but just for the sake of description she is a combination of her parents’ features. Besides the blue eyes from her mother, she has her defined cupid bow shaped lips and her round shape of face. She has the same turned up nose and shape of smile like Peter’s. She not only has the same hair color as him, but also has the slight curl to it and the widow’s peak hairline.  

Blood Type: A-

Clothing

Day to day outfit: She wears all kinds of different outfits just for day to day. Overalls, jumpers and play dresses that have gingham or floral patterns. Has little black keds like her mom’s. First outfit Peter got her for is a peplum sweatshirt with kittens on it and Laurie refused to take it off.    

Pajamas/What they wear to bed: Cute footie jammies. One time she was sent for a month to the firehouse by her grandfather with no pajamas packed so Peter bought her a fleece nightgown with hearts. Laurie loved it to much she didn’t want to change when she woke up. 

Formal Clothes: Has a chiffon spring dress that belonged to her mom when she was little and also a velvety Christmas dress.

Work/School uniform: Not school, but as Ruth puts it, more like she’s dressed as if going for school. That would be the popular drop waist dresses that girls had back in the 1980s with tights and shiny black Mary Jane’s. Laurie actually likes these outfits. 

Other (glasses, jewelry, etc): Just some play jewelry.  

Health

Physical Illnesses: Normal toddler health issues like colds, ear aches and sore throats. She does get ill from pneumonia to the point she's in the hospital.

Mental Illnesses or disorders: Slow with speech. Average toddler speaks 50-100 words, but she speaks half less. She suffers now and then from night terrors which Ruth has wondered is result from Claire’s death. Even though Laurie’s 16 months old when Claire died, she would’ve realized that her mommy hadn’t come back. (There’s proof that babies do grieve.) 

Medications?: No. 

Addictions (Drugs, alcohol?): No.  

General Health: Small for her size and a picky eater, but healthy since there's fruit and veggies she likes. At one point, when under grandfather's care-not Jim Venkman-, she's underweight from his neglect.

Life/Preferences:

Likes: Playing, coloring, peaceful sleeping, her plushies, being read to and being taken to new places (as long as she’s with family.) .

Dislikes: Not having her pacifier, certain foods, night terrors, bugs, wolves, timeouts and vitamins.

Career: Not yet. 

Hobbies/Talents: Would coloring count as a hobby? Has an obsession with the show Misty the Cat.  

Habits (good or bad): Sucking her pacifier even to the point that she develops a new habit of chewing on it. Ruth has a hard time weaning her from it.

Family: Her dad is Peter Venkman though he didn’t know she existed. Her mom, Claire Teague, sadly died, but Laurie was attached to her. On maternal side, Arnold and Ruth Teague are her grandparents. Ruth is easily the better grandparent between the two. There’s Caroline, Laurie’s aunt, but they don’t like each other. On the paternal side is Jim Venkman, her grandpa who changes his name around for aliases. She doesn't meet him for a long time. There’s her great uncle Alf that she’s never met. Does have deceased grandmother Lydia Venkman and her very distant side of the family, The O'Connors. Lydia and Laurie share the same initials: L, M and V. 

Friends: Doesn’t have any because she’s very shy. She prefers her plushies as friends.  

Romantic/Love Interest(s): Not until she’s older. 

Pets: No pets, but she has two beloved plushies. One is a tuxedo cat named Misty (based on a TV show she loves) and Peter Rabbit.    

Social Status: Born into a middle class family. 

Favorite Food: Peanut butter sandwiches and Oreos. 

Favorite Color: As of now, she likes pink, blue, purple, and green. She keeps changing what’s her favorite color.   

Favorite genre of music: She likes the 1950s music that Ray plays when he works on Ecto-1. That often distracts Ray to dance along with her.  

Favorite movie genre: She only watches Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers Neighborhood and her favorite show, Misty the Cat. She watches Looney Tunes with Peter on Saturdays when she visits.   

Favorite Animal: Three way tie between rabbits, sea lions and cats.

Degree of Education: Hasn’t even gone to daycare yet. 

What language(s) can they speak?: Still learning to speak and that’s just English.  

Can they cook?: She can pretend to cook. 

Personality:

Positive Traits: Affectionate and playful. She doesn't throw fits when it comes to bedtime or naps. She likes sleep as much as Peter does.

Negative Traits: Has her times of disobedience, frustrations and picky eating  just like a toddler would. She’ll grow into her own personality over time.  

Archetype: The Innocent (Pippin from Lord of the Rings or Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.) 

Way they interact with others: Shy around new people, but  if they’re kind to her and spends time with them, she’ll get comfortable. Then she gets very attached.  

Way of speaking: Speaks at least 25 words and she can’t pronounce all letters. If she says Granny, it sounds like Gah-ee or Egon sounds like E-gah. Eventually, she’ll learn to talk more and pronounce better. Like Jessica Lange for Claire’s voice inspiration, Laurie’s would be Judith Barsi …because she has one of the sweetest voices I’ve ever heard and she needs to be remembered. 

Introvert or Extrovert?: More of an introvert at the time. 

Backstory

Laurie was a true surprise since Claire, her mom, was told she'd never have children. By that point, Claire was back in Indiana and had sadly broken up with Peter because of their life differences. Claire was too nervous to contact Peter thinking he'd be angry and didn't want to prevent him from earning his doctorates. Laurie's birthday was the one year anniversary that Claire and Peter first said "I love you" to the other. Her initials are reminiscent to her paternal grandma, Lydia Molly Venkman. Laurie's maternal grandma, Ruth, was Claire’s biggest supporter and loved helping with her grandchild. Tragically when Laurie was 16 months old, Claire was killed. Ruth took up to raising Laurie and realized Claire had decided to find Peter. So Ruth took measures in her own hands and Peter was shocked by the news. It takes adjusting for him, but he slowly accepts this new change. Later on, Ruth became sick and suddenly died. Her husband Arnold always gave Claire disgusting comments about sleeping with Peter-use your imagination for those words- so he never cared for his granddaughter. Even Claire’s sister, Caroline disliked her and never wanted to even see her. Unfortunately with Laurie living just with Arnold, he neglected her. He was an alcoholic and it only got worse because he missed Ruth. He’d suddenly send Laurie off to New York without warning and not come back for her for weeks; once a whole month. Laurie loved it because she was happy to be away from Arnold and she grew close with the Ghostbusters. The rest would be spoilers, but we’ll get to those one day.

Life Goals

Laurie eventually does have one goal though she doesn’t fully comprehend what a goal is yet. All she wants it to live with Peter. When she’s dropped off at the firehouse, she’s the most happy and thriving. Ray, Winston, Janine and Egon grow to love her. Most important, Peter does as well. (When he sits back at his desk with newspapers or books, Laurie snuggles up against him with her juice cup or naps.) Unfortunately Laurie’s under custody of her grandparents, even with Ruth gone, and Caroline is always mocking Peter for not being a suitable parent even though she wants nothing to do with her niece. However, things change when Laurie is 3 and found to be in critical health. Due to Arnold’s drunkenness and negligence, she’s found to be underweight and incredibly sick with pneumonia. That just might bring her goal to reality...    

#the real ghostbusters #laurie venkman #fanfic #fanfiction #peter venkman #OC #decided to do one for laurie as a little girl because when i tried for both ages it got way too long

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Dysmorphia

Imagine a man; featherless, bipedal, pretty standard.  This one has pale skin, black hair with a slight widows peak, and eyes so dark he looks like he has nothing but giant pupils.  He has a faceful of freckles which looked much cuter when he was a kid, and two small moles, one on his lip, the other on his neck.

Picture him taller than average, but not exceptionally so; 6′3″, 6′4″ with shoes on, sub-basketball player height.  Now give him a terrible hunch.  He loses a good three or four inches from posture so bad that chiropractors make appointments to see him.  He locks his knees when he stands so his legs curve backwards, which just looks uncomfortable, and he always leads with his gut hanging out; his spine looks like Trogdor the Burninator (sans beefy arms, wingalings, and consummate v’s, of course).

What he lacks in basketball player height he makes up for in basketball player feet.  Just look at those clod hoppers!  He has to order all of his shoes online because most stores only carry up to size 13.  Last he checked he was a 14 and a half, 15-ish, but nothing he tries is comfortable because he’s got flat feet, like a dirty, draft-dodging communist!  The way he walks is just wrong somehow.  He regularly wears out the back of his shoes, right over his Achilles tendon.  He has to pad the worn chunk of plastic and foam with duct tape to make them last longer, because size 15′s are not cheap!

His wardrobe consists mostly of t-shirts and khaki shorts, but these don’t seem to fit him right either.  Sure, he’ll buy nice clothes every year, but they all seem to change size between the mall changing room and his house, or otherwise disappear (his dad probably co-opts them into his own wardrobe, the bastard).  He is somehow both lanky and portly at the same time; thin arms and legs, with a big beer belly paunch over feminine hips, though he doesn’t drink.  His khakis are all too loose and too short; they come to above his knees when he sits, and he has to wear a belt cinched tight to keep them from slipping down to his ankles.

His shirts are comically large because men’s clothes get wider, not taller, when the size goes up.  He has to wear an L or XL, which are the right length, but make him look like he drank Alice’s shrinking potion.  His only other alternative would be to wear a shirt that is the right circumference, but bares his midriff whenever he moves his arms.

His fingers are the stuff of nightmares; the nails are either crack addict long or chewed down to the bloody stump.  He’s apathetic about this, he just lets them grow until they start getting caught on stuff, then he bites them off so short it hurts.  He doesn’t like cutting his thumbnails because they’re thicker than the others and they hurt the most when they’re short.  He has a weird sensory problem so that whenever he cuts them with clippers they feel artificial, unnatural, uncomfortable, so he has to chew them down or go mad.

Left alone for long enough his hair starts looking like Eraserhead; his hair doesn’t get longer, it gets taller, but not in a cool mad scientist kind of way.  It’s super curly and thick, so it never looks good no matter how he brushes it.  Not once in his life has he ever had a decent haircut; every single barber he’s ever been to has given him the exact same Deep South chud cut like one of those beefy dudes who pose with fish in their facebook profiles.  No matter how many times he shows them photos and asks for something different, he still gets the Standard Chud for $15, $20 after tip.  Whenever it’s cut that short, it makes his head look like an egg.  “WE ARE FROM FRANCE.”  His hair always looks best a week or two after getting it cut, but he never takes pictures in that little window because he is oblivious and self-loathing.

The less said about his facial hair, the better.

I’m going to say more anyway.

Both of his grandfathers had long, thick beards.  His father has a long thick beard.  He, however, is incapable of growing anything that looks even remotely presentable.  He can grow a short, coarse, curly neckbeard that looks like pubic hair, a thin pencil mustache like a creep who lives in a van, and patchy sideburns that cover random spots on his cheeks.  His chin is bare save for the thinnest saddest wisp of a soul patch that he can’t see, but he can feel.  Oh, It’s there, mocking him.  Altogether, it could not be a less flattering combo, but he often goes weeks without shaving because in These Trying Times™ he figures nobody’s gonna see his face anyway.  His depression lets him justify his “why should I make my bed if I’m just gonna sleep in it again” argument about his entire personal appearance.  Yikes.

His arms and legs are covered in scars and dark spots because none of his cuts ever heal right.  He would wear pants to cover them, but he lives on the surface of the sun where it’s about a million degrees in winter, so pants are not an option unless it’s a formal occasion, which are few and far between because his hometown is a cultural wasteland with nothing to do and no one to see.  His legs are disproportionately long, so he looks like he’s striding with purpose everywhere he goes.  His normal walking speed is ever so slightly faster than whoever is walking in front of him, so he either has to awkwardly slow down which makes him looks like he’s following them, or speed up to try and overtake them, but he’s not going fast enough to do it quickly so he ends up walking next to them for a few seconds too long which is even worse AAAHHH

Eye contact is weird.  Too much, not enough, he can never tell.  He tries to keep his head down with the prey-instinct that if he can’t see them, they can’t see him, which results in a chronic case of Text Neck.  When he walks past someone, he locks his neck straight forward so as not to make eye contact, which is almost always the WRONG thing to do because it comes off as rude, which he only realizes much later.

He overthinks everything and comes across as pretty sus because he’s trying to judge how everyone else pictures him on the fly; he doesn’t want to be rude, so he tries to leave everyone alone, but more often than not that makes him look cold and angry.  His worst fear is that people of color will think he’s racist when he doesn’t look at them, or looks at them too much, or gives them a wide berth, when in reality he does that to everyone because being seen makes him uncomfortable, and he can’t stop from feeling guilty about living in his own head because he doesn’t want to keep thinking the way he does, which is to say TOO MUCH!

And to round out his insecurities, he has a big gap in his front teeth and his voice sounds like a nasally child trying to compensate for a speech impediment.

But you know what, his grammy says he’s a handsome young man, so he’s actually doing okay.

#welcome to my brain #I don't like it either #dysmorphia #body dysmorphic disorder #body dysmorphia #this actually felt nice #getting things off my chest #working through some stuff #venting #laughing at myself #character description #description #self loathing #laugh at yourself #self confidence #self esteem #low self esteem #self image #body

[kimberlyannharts]

what are your top ten tomberly moments from the comics?

oh we’re opening the floodgates now (under the cut bc i have too much to say)

10.

tbh i put this on the lowest ranking bc it tears my heart out and reading it submitted me to the mortifying ordeal of loving tommy oliver but tbh it’s kind of become an iconic tomberly moment, if not just one of the most iconic moments in the comics in general so it deserves a place on the list.  also tommy using his last words to try and assure kim everything would be okay is PEAK TRAGIC ROMANCE (though you could have been a little more specific my dude)

9.

i’m ngl i just love this one bc after all the tragedy of shattered grid it was fun just being them be stupid (also them being unable to pass each other popcorn like normal human beings is hilarious).  also comparing this to kim’s other first dates gives me a Feel bc this is the only one where she’s happy and comfortable by the end (that’s soulmates baby!!!!!!!!!) 

8.

i know context of this one is sad but i also kinda love it bc it’s it’s like. peak soap opera drama.  “IF YOU ASK ME TO STAY KIM....I WILL.....BUT PLEASE DON’T” while being unable to look her in the eye, backdropped against a blazing sunset....god just strike up the violins

7.

 this moment was in the VERY FIRST ISSUE EVER so it kinda gets forgotten, but honestly i love it a lot - it’s v simple and short but just sets the tone for their relationship REALLY well.  and that text is the first time he smiles in the issue it’s sooooooo cuuuuuuute 

6.

IT’S ABOUT THE LONGING

5.

this scene is sooooo goooood it’s their first “mature” conversation of the series and it really highlights why they work so well - kim doesn’t hold back from the fact that he messed up, but doesn’t needlessly yell at him like the others did.  and in turn that allows him to open up and be vulnerable like he couldn’t before.  it just shows a deep understanding between the two and it’s so good!!!!!!!!

4.

HE TOOK HER TO CHINA HE TOOK HER TO FUCKING CHINA???????  SHE WAS EXPECTING THE PARK TOMMY

also tommy freely opening up so much easier than he ever did, having the ability to finally travel to a very personal place he held close ever since he was a kid and using the opportunity to share it with kim, her gently curious about his past but not pushing, tommy’s dumb goofy smile and her exasperation, this is a v solid couple and i’m so excited for the buildup to them in GGPR’s current arc (MATT DO NOT INTERACT)

3.

technically not a tomberly scene in the traditional sense but STILL TOO IMPORTANT TO NOT BE PUT ON THIS LIST

JASON HANDING OFF THE DRAGON DAGGER TO HER LIKE A FLAG BEING PRESENTED TO THE WIDOW OF A FALLEN VETERAN!!!!!  HER FACE!!!!!!  FEELING LIKE SHE FINALLY HAS A PIECE OF TOMMY WITH HER AGAIN!!!!!!!  kim with the dragon shield was just something i NEVER thought would happen in canon ever and it was just pulled off so flawlessly LOOK AT HER FUCKING FACE

2.

KISSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had to put in both bc they’re both great but daniele’s deserves special acknowledgment for context of the scene (WE’RE ABOUT TO FORGET EVERYTHING SO LET ME SHOW YOU THE WAY THAT I FEEL IN A WAY THAT I DON’T HAVE TIME TO WITH WORDS)

francesco’s though is groundbreaking for the visible tongue.  don’t tell me you can’t see it.

1.

y’all knew this was coming i literally was just crying about it yesterday.  these panels literally express more romance than full-length graphic novels   

bonus bc it’s not really tomberly but it’s still a tommy and kimberly moment and every time i think about it i gleefully cackle to myself:

god the LAYERS to this scene, the depth it gives to both prime tomberly and drakkon/slayer i’m 100% sure boom won’t elaborate on drakkon and slayer’s past with each other bc it’s Too Spicy 

#transmission #anonymous #mmpr comic #tomberly

[marcothehobbit]

OC Facts feat. Hadrian Trevelyan

Thank you so much to @merrybandofmurderers​ for tagging me in this! And I’m sorry it took so long for me to complete; I just finished moving across country so I had to work on it here and there when I wasn’t packing boxes.

Here’s my lovely Hadrian, including a second shot where you can see his broken nose better (and somehow both of these screenshots are him talking to Dorian?? idk man):

I’m gonna put this under a cut because it’s  v e r y  long! Enjoy :)

PLACE IN SOCIETY 

✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

Hadrian comes from House Trevelyan, and though he is the youngest child in his family and therefore not the heir, he certainly does not want for anything. He frequently donates to Chantry efforts to help the poor and disadvantaged members of society, but other than this, he’s never been a big spender like others in his family.

✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged

At the Siege of Haven, Hadrian suffered a concussion, a few broken ribs, and an overextended right knee in his altercation with Corypheus. These injuries took a while to heal, and Hadrian tried to patiently wait to get better, but his sense of duty to lead the people of the Inquisition to safety led him to push himself a bit too far at times, and though he tried to hide it, some of his followers spied him hunched over in pain. After some time and rest, Hadrian is back to peak physical health, though he still suffers some difficulty sleeping and sensitivity to loud noises as a result of the concussion.The only indication of past injury anyone can see on his person now is a broken nose he received many years ago that didn’t quite heal straight.

✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / lower / middle / working / unsure

Overall, Hadrian is definitely a member of the upper class in society. He was destined, as many younger Trevelyan family members are, for the Chantry; Hadrian had welcomed this as an opportunity regardless of its cost and even if he’d have to reject wealth and status. However, what with being sent to the Conclave and subsequently becoming Inquisitor, he once again found himself assuming his previous role, using his noble status as leverage for the Inquisition as needed.

✖ EDUCATION – qualified / unqualified / studying

Hadrian’s family places a big importance on giving a good education to all Trevelyan children, so he received a full set of courses from private tutors in every relevant subject from rhetoric to mathematics, including special lessons on the Chantry since he was originally destined to take vows there. Hadrian’s favorite subject to learn was history, especially about past heroes and battles. When he was younger, Hadrian looked up to many of the figures he read about in old stories, and he also enjoys listening to Solas’s accounts of the battlefields and conflicts the latter has witnessed in the Fade.

FAMILY 

✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily / married, unhappily / engaged / partnered / divorced / widow or widower / separated / single / it’s complicated

Hadrian and Cassandra got engaged a few months after the Exalted Council, and his proposal was a very romantic event. One day, the advisors summoned Cassandra to an impromptu meeting in the Skyhold armory on the pretense of touching base with her before she left to go find some of the missing Seekers. When she left the armory about an hour later at sunset, she found a path of flower petals lined with candles, and every 10 feet or so was a basket with a piece of paper inside detailing one thing Hadrian loves about her or a happy memory from their relationship. Cassandra followed the path, which led up the steps into the great hall and out to the garden. Here, she found Hadrian by himself dressed in his best ceremonial armor flanked on both sides by flowers, and from the trees were hung over a hundred glass baubles, each one containing a brightly burning candle. Once Cassandra was close, Hadrian took her by the hands and recited a romantic poem that he’d been writing for her, and then got down on one knee before asking her to marry him. With tears in her eyes, Cassandra accepted, and as they kissed cheers erupted from above. The couple looked up in surprise to see the ramparts filled with as many Inquisition members as would fit (plus the advisors, obviously), and Hadrian shouted up amusedly at them that he’d told them not to watch. Leliana shouted back that “They couldn’t help themselves,” and Hadrian and Cassandra laughed and kissed again.

The two have talked a bit about their future wedding, the main sentiment being that they’d like it to be as small as possible. They both come from big noble families and know that a) they don’t necessarily get along with a lot of their relatives, and b) once you start inviting people it can get out of hand very quickly.

✖ CHILDREN – has children / no children / wants children / adopted children

Hadrian has always known that he wants children, but he and Cassandra have agreed that now is not the time. What with her efforts to rebuild the Seekers to be more just (especially towards mages) and his continued efforts on behalf of the Inquisition, the two are simply too busy working and traveling for the time being.

✖ FAMILY – close with siblings / not close with siblings / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / it’s complicated

Hadrian is the youngest of 5 siblings, and he has three older brothers and one older sister: Lawrence is the oldest, Arianna is the second child (and only girl), Wilmar is the third, and Rayner is the fourth. He is only regularly in touch with his sister, Arianna, as she is the only one of his siblings that he is still close with. Hadrian has never particularly gotten along with Rayner as the latter is overly competitive and resentful of his lot in life as the fourth child, and he’s always been jealous when his siblings get more attention and recognition than he does. Wilmar and Hadrian were close as children, but after the former began showing signs of magic, he was taken to live in the Ostwick circle; Wilmar stayed in regular contact with his family, but they haven’t heard from him since that circle rose up. Hadrian thinks of his mage brother frequently nowdays, his brow creasing with worry as he wonders what has become of his sibling. Lastly, like with Wilmar, Hadrian and Lawrence got along when they were young, but the latter has become quite shrewd in adulthood and concentrated almost entirely in managing the family’s finances. Hadrian and Varric bonded when they first met over having boring, overly business-focused older brothers.

On the other hand, Arianna and Hadrian remain close despite their distance (Arianna still lives in Ostwick), and they regularly exchange letters to update each other on their respective lives. Arianna is happily married to her wife Antonia, who is originally from Antiva, and they have an adopted daughter named Amelie, whom Hadrian has only met once due to his duties with the Inquisition. Hadrian actually got his broken nose by defending Arianna from a distant Trevelyan relative--a very bigoted one--and getting smacked hard across the face with a full wine bottle as a result. His nose has never been the same, but Arianna has always been grateful to her little brother for standing up for her.

✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by both parents / it’s complicated

Hadrian has a pretty average relationship with his parents, Cadencia and Rowan Trevelyan. When he was a child, they certainly doted on him since he was the youngest, and as he got older they tried to make sure that he was prepared for life in the Chantry. Hadrian’s parents were certainly surprised when their youngest son became Inquisitor and commanded an army seemingly out of the blue, but they are proud of what he has achieved, and they try to stay in touch with him often to make sure that he is getting enough vegetables.

TRAITS & TENDENCIES 

✖ disorganized / organised / in between

Hadrian is definitely more on the organized side of things. One of the first things he did when he got access to his new quarters at Skyhold was to alphabetize all the books on his shelves; it always baffles him that though Dorian’s bookshelves always seem to be chaotically unorganized, the latter can always find what he’s looking for. Hadrian may not be the biggest perfectionist when it comes to organizing, but his quarters are certainly always tidy when he has visitors (and especially when Cassandra drops by).

✖ close-minded / open-minded / in between

In most situations, Hadrian is ready and willing to listen to and entertain new ideas unless they’re coming from someone he really doesn’t like and/or trust. The main exception to this concerns the Chantry. Hadrian comes from a devoutly Andrastian family, and there are so many members of the Trevelyan family that have taken holy vows that he is on first-name basis with most of the Ostwick Chantry. Moreover, Hadrian himself had not only supported the institution’s efforts to help the poor and needy for years but also looked forward to taking vows himself. Because of this, he respected the Chantry a lot, and after joining the Inquisition and learning of things like the abuse of mages and longstanding oppression of nonhuman races, he had a hard time letting go of the perfect image of the Chantry he had in his mind. With time and considerable thought, not to mention conversations with other faithful Andrastians like Leliana, Hadrian’s view has changed considerably, and he now not only acknowledges that serious changes need to be made but also tries to advocate for the historically ignored and oppressed members of society.

✖ cautious / reckless / in between

The best example of Hadrian’s cautiousness comes from early in his relationship with Cassandra. Both of them agreed that they didn’t want others to know that they were together at first since they’re both quite reserved when it comes to talking about romantic relationships. When Cassandra would go to Hadrian’s quarters to spend time with him in private, she’d knock on his door at the end of the great hall and, once he opened it, say something about wanting to talk through tactics (rather loudly and awkwardly, I might add, since we all know Cassandra isn’t the best liar) before following him inside. The couple waited a few months before telling people or showing any PDA, but Hadrian suspected that Varric had known after Cassandra’s second or third visit due to the dwarf’s asking suggestively in passing how Hadrian and Cassandra’s “tactical meetings” were going.

✖ patient / impatient / in between

Hadrian is generally very patient. He’s usually the last person to (stifle a) yawn during long, tedious war room meetings, and Josephine often goes to him to vent about nobles that are distressing her since he’s a good listener. 

✖ outspoken / reserved / in between

Hadrian is definitely a mix of outspoken and reserved. He typically doesn’t mince words, but when he’s drunk (which doesn’t happen often), he can get quite loud and talkative, sometimes saying things out loud that he’d otherwise keep to himself. If someone is speaking negatively about him, he won’t react, but if they attack someone he cares about, he will speak out decisively in support of his friend/loved one.

✖ leader / follower / in between

Most people that knew Hadrian before the Conclave--including perhaps Hadrian himself--were taken aback when he wholeheartedly accepted a leadership role as significant as Inquisitor is. Everyone close to him and his family in Ostwick knew that he’d been destined and prepared for a life of service with the Chantry, so his subsequent unflinching acceptance of his new role surprised many people from his old life. But Hadrian has proven to be a patient, fair, and merciful leader who uses his faith and the words of his advisors to guide him. And despite his usually more taciturn nature, he’s a surprisingly rousing public speaker as well.

✖ sympathetic / unsympathetic / in between

Unless he’s dealing with a complete trash fire of a person like Erimond, Hadrian is willing to listen to just about anyone to try to understand them. Hadrian is a very good listener, and he’s more than willing to listen to anyone close to him that has a problem they need to get off their chest. He’d probably be willing to do this for any fellow Inquisition member at Skyhold to be honest, but most of them would likely be too scared to take him up on it merely because of his being The Inquisitor™.

✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in between

Hadrian is more on the optimistic side, but this is definitely tested at times. His companions tend to reach out to him when they’re feeling down about life because he can frequently offer a different (and brighter) take on their situation.

✖ hardworking / lazy / in between

Hadrian is hardworking almost to a fault. He is no stranger to late, candlelit nights, poring over letters to important noble allies or old tomes he is using to help Dorian research. It certainly doesn’t help that he tends to have trouble sleeping anyway, and if he wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, his first instinct is to be productive with his time. Hadrian can have trouble shutting off and relaxing, and Josephine, Cullen, and Leliana have actually had to order him to rest on multiple occasions.

✖ cultured / uncultured / in between

Part of Hadrian’s education when he was growing up was learning about other cultures. Hadrian can remember sitting wide-eyed as his tutor taught him about Orlesian fashion, Nevarran dragon hunting, Dalish deities, dwarven provings, Ferelden mabari, Tevinter architecture, Antivan trade, Rivaini seafaring, Avvar hold beasts, and Qunari vitaar. But reading about a culture is very different from meeting people to whom that culture belongs, and before going to the Conclave, Hadrian never had much occasion to interact with many other cultures, especially the nonhuman ones, aside from some traders, refugees, or city elves that he knew casually from Ostwick’s alienage. Hadrian always felt nervous before meeting someone new from a culture that he’d only read about, mainly afraid of being unintentionally offensive. Since joining the Inquisition he’s gotten a lot more experienced and has met at least a few people from each of the above cultures. He’s also gained friends like Dorian, Iron Bull, and Varric that he can exchange cultural knowledge with, so he’s learned a lot and become more culturally aware, but he’s definitely still learning.

✖ loyal / disloyal / in between

Hadrian is fiercely loyal. Once someone gains his trust, he will stay by their side through anything. This isn’t to say that he won’t question friends’ problematic decisions, but he doesn’t like to even gossip, and if someone is saying something negative about someone close to him, whether it’s behind their backs or to their faces, he will absolutely stand up for them.

✖ faithful / unfaithful / in between

Hadrian is absolutely faithful, and he would never dream of cheating on someone that he was in a relationship with. This has never happened to him, but if he were in a relationship and met someone else that he wanted to pursue, he would be sure to break things off with whomever he was seeing first so as to remain faithful.

SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION 

✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / omnisexual / demisexual / queer

Based on his past crushes, romantic interests, and partners, Hadrian would consider himself (at least in modern terms) pansexual. Though he is currently engaged to Cassandra, he doesn’t particularly have a preference in terms of gender.

✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable

Hadrian definitely enjoys sex, but for him it’s reserved for committed relationships that he’s in. He of course doesn’t think any less of other people who do have casual sex, but it’s just not for him. His first time with Cassandra was actually the first time he’d even had sex on a first date, but he’d also never been so sure of his feelings for another person before her.

✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable

Hadrian is a bit of a hopeless romantic. He loves the practices of giving flowers, reading poetry, and other romantic gestures, and he enjoys both giving and receiving these. Hadrian was very happy to find someone like Cassandra who has a similar interest in being swept off their feet, so to speak, and the couple has had a lot of very cute, very romantic dates over the course of their relationship.

✖ SEXUALLY – sexually adventurous / sex experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious / uninterested

Hadrian is sexually inexperienced because of several factors. The main one is that because he was supposed to take holy vows, he was preparing himself for celibacy by refraining more from romantic relationships in the few years before he was supposed to join the Chantry. As a result, he was only in two relationships, both with other guys. And combined with his preference to only have sex with those he is committed to, he hasn’t had many opportunities for learning, but he’s certainly eager to try new things.

ABILITIES 

✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Hadrian is an excellent marksman and very skilled with a bow. While wooing Cassandra, he participated in the archery contest thrown at Skyhold and won handily; he probably wouldn’t have participated otherwise as he’s not much of an attention lover or showoff, but he definitely wanted to impress her. Also, if he’s had a bit to drink, he and Sera try to do trick shots. This little practice of theirs arose originally out of Sera tipsily saying something along the lines of “Hey Trevelyan, bet you can’t shoot one of those banners outside the great hall while doing a backflip off a barrell.” These bets of theirs have gotten more outrageous over time, resulting in a few that seem near-impossible, like trying to shoot an arrow onto Hadrian’s balcony from the sparring area during heavy winds. But aside from these, Hadrian practices every day to make sure his skills are as sharp as his arrows.

✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Hadrian isn’t too voracious a reader, but he has great reading and writing skills due to the customary education he received as a noble child. When he has some quiet time, which isn’t very often since he spends most of his time working or training, he enjoys reading about history. He’s also read some of Varric’s romance serial after catching Cassandra reading it just to see why she likes it so much, and he secretly quite enjoyed it.

✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Hadrian has never been very artistic; even as a child he never had much of an interest in learning an instrument or drawing or anything like that. But one thing he does enjoy is writing poetry for Cassandra; he’s not the best at it, but he knows that she loves it, so he enjoys trying his hand at it on special occasions. 

✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

The same aptitude that made Hadrian good with a bow and arrow also makes him pretty good with his hands. He asked Blackwall to teach him woodworking when he saw the latter working on a little gryphon rocking horse. Since then he’s learned and created a lot, including a few bottle racks for all of the bottles of Thedas and Grey Warden ritewine that he’s found and some sliding bookshelf organizers.

--

Please let me know if you read this and have any comments/questions/feedback! I’m very new to all this so I’d appreciate anything you have to say!

#my ocs #dragon age #dai #I feel like some of these are kinda bad and in others I rambled or got carried away but here we are #this was a lot of fun :) #but omg I'm so nervous to post this cause I'm so new at this

[frcscrs]

it’s time to spill thE MF TEA

⋆ ° (JODIE COMER, twenty-nine, cisfemale, she/her ) has ESTELLE CHERNOV, the QUEEN from RUSSIA arrived yet? i heard they can be quite MALICIOUS, but also ATTENTIVE. there’s rumours they’ve come to genovia for "SUPPORT” THE CROWN PRINCESS, but you never know. DIOR SHOPPING BAGS, DETERMINATION THAT TERRIFIES MOST, A SICKENING SMILE THAT INTOXICATES MOST. always remind me of them. 

she got a pinterest here

estelle was actually born estelle leblanc. raised in a very uptight french household, she hadn’t had much of a father, nor had she known of love. sure, her parents were married, but he was constantly traveling around the world for work, which paid for estelle to have the classical ballet training which she did.

her mother was a thespian. always wanted to be able to dance but had two left feet as she put it. estelle was meant to be everything she couldn’t be. her mother instilled in her that she could work as hard as she wanted to reach her goals, but to have the lush life she wanted, she’d have to strip it off of others.

estelle’s family was well off but not as well off as they dreamed of being. essie had a love for fashion and luxury. she was quite the fan of paris hilton when she was younger.

ballet was what she cared about most of her life. she was damn good at it too. sure, there was talent, but mostly because she didn’t care about anything else. boys? she ate them for breakfast. no room when she was making her feet bleed. uni? who cared. she was headlining the nutcracker in paris. 

she’d already broke a couple feet and spread a few flus to get herself further ahead of women she knew were more talented than her. didn’t matter. she liked when they came to her broken and defeated and spat in her face. she was in photoshoots now so who really won.

she’d go on international tours, performing for royals and celebrities alike. it was the best life. having people who shouldn’t be interested, be the most interested. she liked sneaking around, getting credit cards, wearing fur coats and having hands slide up her dress. she especially loved turning around to whisper about it when she knew she shouldn’t have.

then the perfect opportunity landed in her lap. the king of russia. a long since widowed man. old. far beyond his prime years. with enough children, and now grand children, to never have to worry about an heir. and he wanted companionship.

being queen was... well it excited her beyond belief. sure, ballet was great but like, fuck it. she pretty much already peaked at 23 so what was the big deal in marrying a king and wearing the title of queen and taking all that money and oh... the diamonds. she loved the diamonds.

she’s been queen of russia for three years now. she knows that it’s an unsavory situation to be in. half of russia either hates her, the other half adores her. the king’s family is mostly on the former, knowing she’s just in it for the luxury. but that’s pretty obvious. why on earth would a babe like her be in love with an eighty year old man.

wanted connections?

did essie try and snatch another crown? i’m sure the king wasn’t the first to pop the idea in her head. in fact, probably came to her on all her own and she tried to wiggle her way in a couple different times with other’s. 

ballet bitches? she hasn’t danced in probably about 4 years but potential prior she could have worked with another. was v much known to be a venomous bitch who bakc stabbed most everyone. but also really really fun to party with.

gather round for the tea. estelle has it properly established that she is the prime source for all the tea. in fact, she hosts tea ! she’ll have royals come and get tea and she’ll listen to you dish and dish herself and it’s good but also like... there’s something about it that feels wrong though.

trying to ruin a good thing. i would not, absolutely would not put it past estelle to try and meddle. (maybe she did some good meddling at one point but shhh) def could have stepped in and tried to ruin some relationships. never things like homewreck but she’ll certainly be up to some fuckery to try and make things have more drawmah

maybe she caught feels. there’s ofc gotta be one that like,,, snatched her hort. which like, she’s p convinced she doesn’t have one but man they gave her a flicker of a heartbeat or smth. ofc. she couldn’t have that so she had to pce out and go marry a crusty old man.

friends i guess. there’s def differnt kinds of friendships. most of the people estelle would say are “friends” are certainly not entirely genuine. like sure, they give gratification in the moment, but she’s also listening to everything in case she needs to use it. but, maybe there’s someone just as terrible that she actually finds a true friendship in. the one (1) bitch in this house she respects.

ofc, fuckin. bc ya kno,,,, everyone be fuckin in genovia and she def wouldn’t be skipping out on that.

#genoviaintro #⊹ · pts. #10.

[boglog]

HILL HOUSE NOTES !!

Objectively speaking, I like the show as a weird crossover between Transparent and American Horror Story but there are always some cons :/ One thing I will say is that I find it hard to review horror bc I'm too busy swimming in cortisol to notice plot holes but I watched the scary scenes w subtitles and no audio and that will have to do!!!

Cons:

The diologue is occasionally awful.

Scratch that it's terrible and the more the show goes on the more it nears Grey's Anatomy levels of nauseating

Firstly, there are way too many name drops esp when there are only two characters in the room, sometimes even one sentence after another, it's exhausting.

i.e. 'Stay right here, honey. I'm going to talk to the police now sweetie, I'll be right back.' // 'You eat people, Steve. You are a parasite, Steve.'

Second of all, 'Don't do that ever again. Don't do that. Where were you? I thought the house thingy got you.' kids don't talk like this. I know irl children tend to imitate the adults around them but the sheer amount of stock cliches these child actors are required to say is incredible

And honestly overall there's too much talking period. There are dozens of scenes where a character monologues for almost five minutes!!!!

I loved mind doppelgänger Leigh's speech but really let's tally it up: we've got Mrs Dudley's monologue, Olivia monologues a few times, Theo's monologue, Luke 2 or three monologues, one from Shirley, Hugh is not much of a talker so thank god they were consistent. And of course a lot of these are important to the story and even close to entertaining (see also: Nell yelling at Steve) but it's way too much and anything actually significant is diluted in this deluge of info-dump-y speeches

Why god??? Why?

Like this is television not radio but I guess it's another case of Forced Diegesis when summarising w flashbacks would actually be way easier on my psyche but Tacky for these Kinematic Auteurs

I would've liked a more in depth exploration of Olivia and her childhood experiences of paranormal tragedy to give us a better context for her morally grey slip into an evil mother

Still somewhat peeved at how, bc of supernatural instinct, we can justify Theo and CPS taking a child away from her home. Obviously the show can't waste so much time on what's only supposed to be a quick detour into Theo's character and it works within the world of the show given that the guy did confess but portrayals of police, first responders, social workers, ad nauseum making snap descisions like that is Not Good for people's real world perception of their rights. Just sayin.

Maybe a scene where Steve and Hugh apologise for being garbage humans or something idk that would've been nice

This show has many layers and interpretations which could either skew towards clever ambiguity or clumsy indescision and while I'm leaning toward the former, I will say it does go a little all over the place for me.

Are the Crains' superpowers genetic, from their mother? Did it come from the house? Why is the house was so vindictive? What does it want? Or is it more symbolic of the emptiness inside the characters? Why is Olivia decidedly an over controlling mother but Nell is an innocent? Is really the only thing Steve had to do to save his marriage was reverse the vasectomy? Nell died of her own paradoxical haunting that began when she was six so was the cause ultimately a sadness within herself before the house of strictly the house's pull?

Like it's v unclear (probably deliberately) wether or not the story was Psychosis All Along or it was the house's vendetta or bc the Crains specifically are a supernatural mutant family

We never find out what Nell does for a living and I'm curious

Finally: it's really white sometimes. Like. Painfully white. Granted, the Crains come close to my favourite kind of white person, the quirky dysfunctional family of adult children scattered all over the country who only reunite at their dead sister's funeral. Still, the POC tally up to two love interests (one of which DIES), one cop, one naïve widow, and one poor daughter-less foster parent. One could argue only a middle class white family would stay in a haunted house for so long ://

Pros

The show juggles seven characters and two plots flawlessly. Each character is recognisable w a distinct personality after about only two episodes, the nonlinear structure as we alternate between the present day frame story and the main plot in flashbacks before ultimately converging when the family reunites at the house for the last time is not only clear but parses its information in way that's not only not confusing but strengthens the tension and dread. Even while they show the flashbacks' ending (w Olivia and later Nell's death) as well as the epilogue, the build up still feels entirely justified. This is peak plotting right there.

Furthermore, Nell's ghost still manages to be in the spotlight with some jumpscares even after we know who she is

My soul pretty much left my body when Nell's ghost attempts to bond w her sisters via screaming as they argue in the car

A quintessential microcosm of the show's representation of time and memory is Nell's final speech: whimsically disjointed at first, poignant and clear by the end

It's a horror show that is completely dedicated to its characters (and I'm sure some of you already know my love of dysfunctional families) and centres around human themes of connection, mourning, and trauma and the necessity of vulnerability and letting go in order to live a full life. That's very rare in horror where we usually get gratuitous gore with a small spattering of sentimental scenes to further the gore.

Olivia's Forever House served as an excellent symbol for her need to control, the house's monicker implying her fear of change.

An incomplete but not bad portrayal of trauma, a decent addition to the topical and ever-expanding mental illness discourse

Also ft. meta commentary on writers

In the beginning, Olivia really was portrayed as a concerned mother who was always trying to be considerate of her children's emotional well-being despite her occasional snaps. One has to wonder wether her slip into an irrational need to control might reflect society's paradoxically oppressive expectations of motherhood: to have absolute control of your children while also being a benevolent saviour to them 24/7. I mean in all fairness to Olivia, she was working and raising 5 kids. I'd lose my marbles too.

Or maybe I'm giving the creators too much credit and they were only angling for an Other Mother thing. I like this Foucaultian nihilism though so we're gonna go w that.

The show's acknowledgment of Useless Dad and Entitled Eldest Son syndrome.

Spat my tea when doppelgänger Leigh ripped Steve a new one, and since she's a representation of his psyche maybe that means that Steve himself has gained some self awareness. (He should still... apologise to his family....)

I mean they were really spot-on with how birth order family drama goes.

Human portrayal of a lesbian as an adult and a child! As tumblr user Lesbeet said, this is very rare and deftly done!

Theo doing literally anything

Shirl is p adorable

Theo and Shirl: the comedy duo we absolutely need in our lives

Arthur and Nell's romance is joining Up's prologue in the golden vault of world's greatest ten minute love montages. (Both of which ended in tragédie. ☹️)

Shirl's AU dream sequence, which unlike the others, presents us with an extramarital faux pas that we were not previously aware of, manages to seem totally appropriate for her character

The set and costume design are perfect for the primordial fear of the unknown aesthetic the show was going for. Fairy flappers! Gothic stairwells! Punk rock leather gloves! A McMansion that doubles as a funeral home! Motels! A curvilinear LA mansion! The absolutely insane brutalist million dollar rehab centre! Oh boy!!!

Accurate mortician portrayal: they really do gotta wire the corpses' mouths shut. Those damn chatty dead people.

Tldr:

Diologue is lengthy and cheesy while the characters are Too White. The rare portrayals of POC and how social services work were lacklustre. 👎

The show's incredible ambition and dedication to its characters and themes of trauma, dysfunctional family relationships, and the consequences of coping via trying to control your life is amazing. Theo, especially, is amazing. It's a very goth show with clinically depressed ghosts.👍

#the haunting of hill house #haunting of hill house #hohh #thohh #mike flanagan #hohh spoilers #onion post #colour text #u #c

[darkloverlost]

I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU: CHAPTER 1 w/@DelicateDeviant

Wrath:

It had been a long night at the Audience House. There had been three major disputes among family, a couple of offerings from new members of the community, a mating request, and now I was getting ready to hear a trust fund request. Why did I have to be involved in all this crap? Why did everything have to go through me? I got that our community was a secret one and this was one way for the people to feel heard, and get a chance to put eyes on their King, however,  most times I felt like a circus monkey, sat on a throne for people to gawk at. There had to be a better way for us to run our community…

V pulled me out of my thoughts with his inquest, “You ready for the next one, or do you need a little break?”

He knew I was getting to a point where I needed a break from all this crap. We had been discussing the idea of me taking a week off. It’s just that there was so much going on in the community that it was hard to get that kind of time. We had started winning the war against the Lessers about five years ago, so more and more of us were flocking to Caldwell. The problem was that the more that as more of us set down roots here, the more determined the Lesser became. So, five years ago we had begun to win the war, then more vampires moved in, then the Lessers called for more people to move in, and it just became this massive domino effect.

Nodding my head at V and letting out a long sigh, I replied, “Yeah. Send them in.”

Whicked:

I paced around the reception area of the King’s Audience House like a caged Tiger.  My eyes tracked the movements of the Receptionist and all the other’s that were patiently waiting their turn to meet the King and discuss whatever it was they needed.  I hated that I needed to come here to ask some Male I didn’t know, who didn’t know me for access to my own money.  When the Lesser’s killed my family,  what money my family did have had been transferred into a trust fund for me since I was the only living member left.  I had pretty much stayed clear of the money, preferring to earn my own and make my own way in this world it was easier that way.  Not needing or relying on anyone but me.  But if I wanted to make my dreams come true, I was going to need a little help.

I sighed impatiently and smoothed down my mid length skirt before fidgeting with the collar of my blouse waiting for my name to be called.  The background music was operatic or some shit and it was like driving nails into my head,  I balled my hands into fists as I tried to keep my head in the game so I didn’t screw up and embarrass myself in front of the King,  not that I really cared what he thought, I just didn't want his impression of me to royally screw my chances of getting what I needed from him.

I heard a door open to the back of the room and a goatee’d head popped into the room. His diamond eyes scanned over the crowd, flickering over me and beyond.  His voice rang throughout the room with ease, making himself known. “Uhh Annalee Termagant?” I looked up at the sound of my name* He caught the flare of my eyes as I looked up* C’mon you’re up, follow me.”

Ugh no one called me Annalee anymore,  not since my family died.  I looked around at the others waiting and caught a few of them looking at me. I stood up straight, praying to the Scribe I wouldn’t go ass over tits in these new heels and made a beeline for the Male.

“Yeah...Hi,  I am Whicked,  I don’t go by Annalee anymore.”  He nodded like he really didn’t give a shit if my name was Mary Fricken Poppins or whatever,  he had better things to think about like keeping the King safe.  “Sure Female,  whatever you say, just follow me”.  For once, I did what I was told and followed him through the door into the King's Audience Chamber beyond.

Wrath:

Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath. This was my life. By night I was propped up on this chair and had vampire after vampire paraded past me, by day I did my best to raise my own little prodigy and sleep, only to raise back up the next night and do it all over again. Most of the time I failed miserably at it all. I was a lousy King, and even worse father to the future of our race. LW should have been my savior. He should have been my reason for wanting to live, and for a while he had been. But now, every time I hear his voice, I can’t help but hear Her in it. He even smells like she used to. Which may sound odd to most, but he has this scent to his skin that is uniquely Hers.

I’ve done my best… Well, I guess my best is a bit too strong. I really haven’t done my best. I’ve had my ups and downs, mostly downs. I’ve just about given up, at this point. Nothing seems to be worthwhile. I know that sounds horrible, especially considering I have this amazing little male waiting for me at home, but I just have days where putting one foot in front of the other seems utterly impossible. Mary has tried to talk to me, I refuse. I know it worked well for Z and some of the others. It’s not going to work for me. I just want to be with my beloved. Spending hours on someone’s couch isn’t going to change that.

This morning had been one of those days where I couldn’t get myself to move. If it weren’t for V, I would never make it in here. I wouldn’t make it out of bed most days. He keeps me going. He forces me to do the things I don’t have the will to do. He’s basically become a nurse to a dying King.

The creak of the door as V stepped back through, pulled me from my trance. “Sire, Annalee Termagant here to see you.” I waited as I hear the flip of the folder in his hands. “Her family…”

A scent so strong hit me like a ton of bricks. It was like a cold breeze rippled across my skin as I took a deep breath in. It was sweet like a field of lavender, with a touch of rosewood. Dearest Virgin Scribe… I took another deep breath. Fuck! Rosewood. Beth’s favorite shampoo had rosewood in it. But, there was something more to why this female’s scent tickled my every fiber. Something dangerous. Something I didn’t want to even fathom. I gritted my teeth and balled my fists as the bouquet of this female wafted into my nose. I hadn’t even realized that V was done introducing her and I hadn’t caught a thing.

“Sire?”

Swallowing, I motioned for the female to begin with her own request. “Annalee…” I spoke, expectantly. She would likely impress on everything that V just said, anyway. I just wanted her out, as quick as possible and if V had to repeat everything, this was going to take too long.

Whicked:

I paused next to the goatee wearing Male that guided me into the room, his sheer size must mean he was one of the King’s Warriors,  which made sense.  He would need to be protected at all times.  I stepped out from behind the Warrior’s shadow and glanced upwards, my eyes falling onto the massive Male that sat awkwardly behind the slab of a desk.  My breath caught in my throat as I ran my eyes over the King.  He was breathtaking, a magnificent specimen of a Male.  Strong, wide shoulders, chiselled cheekbones, long raven locks falling form a widows peak, blind eyes hidden behind a pair of blackout wraparounds..  The scent that rolled off of him hit me like a tsunami.  It invaded my very being, strong, rich and spicy, it made me somewhat dizzy as I stood there in the middle of the room.  

I inched forward, toward him,  now feeling as nervous as I did earlier, not knowing how to address him but when I heard him say my name,  Annalee, I groaned and my inner bitch took over oblivious to the sitch going on. “Yeah….Hi, um King...Sire...whatever.  My name is Whicked,  I don’t go by ~That~ name any more”.  I fidgetted as I stood there, my hands clasping each other in front of me, his wraparound sunglasses preventing me from seeing what was going on in his mind,  his jaw was tight, almost like he was grinding his teeth.  Boy he looked pissed.

I clenched and unclenched my hands in front of me and tried to still my nervous fidgeting but I knew I was losing the battle.  Part of me wondered if bolting was still an option to me.  I glanced over my shoulder and noted that my escort was propped up against the door with a shiteating grin on his face,  obviously finding my current predicament amusing, ok so trying to escape wasa no-go. I shot him a blistering glare before flicking my flame locks over my shoulder and refocusing me eyes on the The Blind King.

Wrath:

My hands went to the arms of my chair and gripped hard. Good fucking God! The sound of her voice even resonated within the canals of my ears. It was as if the Scribe Virgin had created this female specifically with me in mind. That was impossible, though. A low growl emanated from my gut. Beth was my one. My only. She was the one I was meant for. She was the sole female that I was supposed to spend my life with. We had been, as Beth would say, kismet. There would never be another for me. Beth was it. And, when the Scribe Virgin decided to take her away from me, that was it. I was finished with females. Taking another deep breath, no matter what they fucking smelled like or sounded like.

The flare to my nose, I’m sure didn’t go unnoticed. “Okay then, Whicked…state your case for the record.”

Of, better yet, V… please, state it for her, so I don’t have to listen to another syllable slip past her lips. Not that I couldn’t request for that, but I didn’t want to alert V to what was going on in my head. So, I kept quiet. Then again, with his skills, he was probably seeing it all in his mind, anyway.

Impatiently, I waited.

Whicked:

A wave of stone cold aggression washed over me, emanating from the hulk of a Male in front of me.  I bit back a wince and stepped forward toward the desk,  when the King’s bodyguard didn’t make a move,  I boldy got in close to the slab of wood, my fingers tracing the lines and edges of its front.  My, the King was a handsome Male, absolutely divine and utterly uninterested in anything I had to say.  Clearly just another voice among many.

“Well...well I want to get access to my Family trust fund…. please.  I need the cash as collateral toward a loan for my own space downtown. So...if you could uhhh just sign the dotted line I can get out of your way, I am sure you have plenty of better things to do, right?”

I noted a silver picture frame to the right of the desk,  I could faintly make out the picture of a Female with a small child.  The joy on their faces blasting out of the sepia toned photo.  Oh shit….that must be his Shellan.  The Queen.  I looked down at my feet feeling like an utter shit for eyeing up this Male like a piece of meat and here he was clearly still mourning the loss of his mate.

The rumor was that once a warrior bonded with a female that was it.  Done deal,  nothing else even mattered to them, not even their own life.  I couldn’t even imagine the pain he must have felt,  must still be feeling.   Well I guess I could in my own way, the loss of my family gave me a front row seat to the big fucking grief show, so I guess I could sympathize with his loss.

I stepped back from the desk, my fingers lingering over the wood before raising to my locks,  twirling them around my fingers nervously.  

Wrath:

Even though I leaned back in my chair, my body was far from relaxed. In all honesty, I had heard the rustle of her clothes and the click of her heels as she stepped right up to my desk and I was trying desperately to create some distance. Her scent stronger now, hinted at a small touch of eucalyptus mixed in with the lavender and rosewood… and her voice seemed to melt my creaky bones.

I couldn’t do this! Why would the Scribe Virgin do this to me?! Where would she get the idea that this kind of thing would be okay? Then again, it is the Scribe Virgin we are talking about. She does like to torment us all. This was a new kind of cruel torture, though. She had done some nasty things in the past, but this was just vile.

“V!” I growled.

It took him five steps too long to get to me. “What’s up, man?”

I leaned close, “I’m going home. Cancel the rest of my day.” Turning back to Whicked, “You’ll have the papers by the end of the day.” Before she could respond, I stood and pushed past V, heading for the quiet quarters where I took my breaks.

Whicked:

Wow…..his voice was like honey to my soul.  Harsh but smoothing somehow. I looked up catching his expression,  abject horror.  My eyes instantly sought out the floor, biting my lip hard to stop me from saying something I really shouldn’t, I heard him call out to the Male at the door who came forward in the blink of an eye, bending down to the King’s eye level.  A low whisper spread between tehm but I caught the jist,   he was leaving.  Clearly couldn’t handle my attitude.  Really was something I should work on when I want something but it was who I was and I wouldn’t apologise to anyone,  not even the goddamn King!

I stood up straight,  eyes front and centre, my blood on fire as he got up and glanced over at me for a long moment,  those unseeing eyes boring straight into me.  He moved quickly and gracefully around the chair and out a door at the back of the room.  His bodyguard shot me a look and a shrug and left behind the King.  

I stood there in the empty room blinking rapidly.  Against my better nature I bit out a parting retort.  “Well fuck you very much, Your Majesty”!

I span on my heels and strode out of the room,  50 shades of pissed off.  He better get me that paperwork tonight because I had a meeting with the bank tomorrow.  What I wanted,  would be mine.

Wrath:

I no sooner got through the door when I heard Whicked’s voice from behind me, “Well, fuck you very much, Your Majesty!” Growling, I whipped around, strode back through the door and across the room, catching her by her arm before she could leave. Her other hand ripped around and caught my cheek so hard that I could feel the heat burning as I was sure the side of my face was turning a crimson red. Leaning into her, I pinned her against the back of the door and despite her aggression against me, I could smell the excitement in her scent. “Fuck you very much, huh?” I ran my hand gently across the side of her features, gaining a sense of every muscle and how they were formed into a slight grin that she was fighting. Slowly, I trailed my finger down her neck, along the jugular, feeling it pulse way too fast for a normal beat.

Suddenly, I could hear V’s questioning tone behind me and I realized I was still in the breakroom, never having stepped back into the throne room. “Fuck!” I raised my fist and put it through the wall. “Give me the papers, V! Now!”

#IHateEverythingAboutYou #Chapter1

[starklore]

HI SO don’t mind me just been stalking your oc directories on Pinterest and I would love to know more about Melissa swan and tori’s marvel verse if you could tell us more please!!

YES ofc!!! I don’t know much about either of them but here’s what I do know:

Melissa “Lissa” Swan

-She’s Bella’s fraternal twin sister.

-She chose to move to Forks several years before Bella did and she did it to get away from Bella. 

-It’s not that she hates Bella. It’s just that growing up together, everyone always liked Bella more than her. Teachers, classmates, even their mom was closer to Bella than to her, and she could never figure out why or try to change it. She was tired of being compared to Bella and of comparing herself to Bella and she wanted a fresh start. 

-(That said: just because she doesn’t hate Bella doesn’t mean she doesn’t resent her. She was moving past this but when Bella moves to Forks it gets worse because like...she moves states away to get away from Bella, to carve out her own niche, make her own friends and finally not live in Bella’s shadow, and Bella still can’t let her have that.)

-It doesn’t help that people immediately gravitate towards Bella as soon as she shows up. They did that with her when she showed up, too, but not to the same extent, and once again she’s put in the position of wondering what’s wrong with her, why people like Bella more even though she doesn’t even try. Bella’s extremely introverted and doesn’t really reach out to people or try to connect, but people still gravitate towards her. Lissa’s also reasonably introverted but she does want friends and connections and she tries to make them, but when Bella’s around she feels invisible. 

-So it’s a really complicated relationship.  

-She’s probably shipped with an OC and that OC might be played by Gregg Sulkin (don’t @ me) who is probably a werewolf (like the actual werewolves that got namedropped in BD, not the Quileute shapeshifters). It’s not just because of Runaways okay, I still associate Gregg with Mason Greybeck from Wizards of Waverly Place. 

-(God I remember when he first showed up and the show was like “so here’s our new character Mason Greybeck and I was immediately like “oh okay, so he’s a werewolf, cool”)

-Her faceclaim is Ariela Barer and Bella in this fic is played by Lindsey Morgan (honestly I’m proud of that casting, Lindsey actually looks a lot like Bella’s book description--the eyes, the hair, the heart-shaped face, the widow’s peak, albeit Lindsey’s is more subtle. Anyways.)

-I will probably change her name at some point. 

Tori’s Marvel Verse

-She’s Tony’s daughter

-In her Gotham verse she goes by Victoria or V around as often as she goes by Tori. In Marvel it probably does skew more towards Victoria or V because Tori is so similar to Tony. 

-She’s still an anxious mess but I’m not sure why. 

-Possibly/Probably shipped with Pietro, or maybe Peter Parker, depending on how old I decide to make her. 

-This verse exists solely because @notaboutcat made one for Ana Wayne and I like crossing Tori and Ana over.