#the latter is not really my cup of tea but I know this fits | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hedgehog-moss · 3 months

Note

Inspired by your last ask! What are the best French books you’ve read that have no English translation yet? I read Play Boy and Qui a tué mon père (really loved the latter) last year and it feels so fun to read something that other Americans can’t access yet

I'm too nervous to make any list of the Best XYZ Books because I don't want to raise your expectations too high! But okay, here's my No English Translation-themed list of books I've enjoyed in recent years. I tried to make it eclectic in terms of genre as I don't know what you prefer :)

Biographies

• Le dernier inventeur, Héloïse Guay de Bellissen: I just love prehistory and unusual narrators so I enjoyed this one; it's about the kids who discovered the cave of Lascaux, and some of the narration is written from the perspective of the cave <3 I posted a little excerpt here (in English).

• Ces femmes du Grand Siècle, Juliette Benzoni: Just a fun collection of portraits of notable noblewomen during the reign of Louis XIV, I really liked it. For people who like the 17th century. I think it was Emil Cioran who said his favourite historical periods were the Stone Age and the 17th century but tragically the age of salons led to the Reign of Terror and Prehistory led to History.

• La Comtesse Greffulhe, Laure Hillerin: I've mentioned this one before, it's about the fascinating Belle Époque French socialite who was (among other things) the inspiration for Proust's Duchess of Guermantes. I initially picked it up because I will read anything that's even vaguely about Proust but it was also a nice aperçu of the Belle Époque which I didn't know much about.

• Nous les filles, Marie Rouanet: I've also recommended this one before but it's such a sweet little viennoiserie of a book. The author talks about her 1950s childhood in a town in the South of France in the most detailed, colourful, earnest way—she mentions everything, describes all the daft little games children invent like she wants ageless aliens to grasp the concept of human childhood, it's great.

I'll add Trésors d'enfance by Christian SIgnol and La Maison by Madeleine Chapsal which are slightly less great but also sweet short nostalgic books about childhood that I enjoyed.

Fantasy

• Mers mortes, Aurélie Wellenstein: I read this one last year and I found the characters a bit underwhelming / underexplored but I always enjoy SFF books that do interesting things with oceans (like Solaris with its sentient ocean-planet), so I liked the atmosphere here, with the characters trying to navigate a ghost ship in ghost seas...

• Janua Vera, Jean-Philippe Jaworski: Not much to say about it other than they're short stories set in a mediaeval fantasy world and no part of this description is usually my cup of tea, but I really enjoyed this read!

Essays / literary criticism / philosophy

• Eloge du temps perdu, Frank Lanot: I thought this was going to be about idleness, as the title suggests, and I love books about idleness. But it's actually a collection of short essays about (French) literature and some of them made me appreciate new things about authors and books I thought I knew by heart, so I enjoyed it

• Le Pont flottant des rêves, Corinne Atlan: Poetic musings about translation <3 that's all

• Sisyphe est une femme, Geneviève Brisac: Reflections about the works of female writers (Natalia Ginzburg, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Townsend Warner, etc) that systematically made me want to go read the author in question, even when I'd already read & disliked said author. That's how you know it's good literary criticism

Let's add L'Esprit de solitude by Jacqueline Kelen which as the title suggests, ponders the notion of solitude, and Le Roman du monde by Henri Peña-Ruiz which was so lovely to read in terms of literary style I don't even care what it was about (it's philosophy of foundational myths & stories) (probably difficult to read if you're not fully fluent in French though)

Did not fit in the above categories:

• Entre deux mondes by Olivier Norek—it's been translated in half a dozen languages, I was surprised to find no English translation! It's a crime novel and a pretty bleak read on account of the setting (the Calais migrant camp) but I'd recommend it

• Saga, Tonino Benacquista: Also seems to have been translated in a whole bunch of languages but not English? :( I read it ages ago but I remember it as a really fun read. It's a group of loser screenwriters who get hired to write a TV series, their budget is 15 francs and a stale croissant and it's going to air at 4am so they can do whatever they want seeing as no one will watch it. So they start writing this intentionally ridiculous unhinged show, and of course it acquires Devoted Fans

Books that I didn't think existed in English translation but they do! but you can still read them in French if you want

• Scrabble: A Chadian Childhood, Michaël Ferrier: What it says on the tin! It's a short and well-written account of the author's childhood in Chad just before the civil war. I read it a few days ago and it was a good read, but then again I just love bittersweet stories of childhood

• On the Line, Joseph Ponthus: A short diary-like account of the author's assembly line work in a fish factory. I liked the contrast between the robotic aspect of the job and the poetic nature of the text; how the author used free verse / repetition / scansion to give a very immediate sense of the monotony and rhythm of his work (I don't know if it's good in English)

• The End of Eddy, Edouard Louis: The memoir of a gay man growing up in a poor industrial town in Northern France—pretty brutal but really good

• And There Was Light, Jacques Lusseyran: Yet another memoir sorry, I love people's lives! Jacques Lusseyran lost his sight as a child, and was in the Resistance during WWII despite being blind. It's a great story, both for the historical aspects and for the descriptions of how the author experiences his blindness

• The Adversary: A True Story of Monstrous Deception, Emmanuel Carrère: an account of the Jean-Claude Romand case—a French man who murdered his whole family to avoid being discovered as a fraud, after spending his entire adult life pretending to be a doctor working at the WHO and fooling everyone he knew. Just morbidly fascinating, if you like true crime stuff

#ask #book recs #the book i started reading last night is The Naked Neanderthal by Ludovic Slimak and i also didn't #expect it to have an english translation but it does #i'm only at the beginning and so far it's philosophical ponderings about what kind of creature the neanderthals were #if they were humans in a different way than us. with a different kind of intelligence #and how to understand it without projecting our own way of being in the world onto this other humanity #sorry to quote cioran again but it reminds me of when he said every generation misses the good old days and #if we retrace our steps from regret to regret we'll find the original regret #our nostalgia for a time when humans weren't yet human

203 notes · View notes

skzddicted · 1 year

Text

💭 minho soft thought…

(honestly the term minho brainrot is probably more fitting but anyways)

imagine, you get like really sensitive whenever you’re sick and just close to everything will make you tear up or full on start sobbing. the latter is more often the case

so when you catch a cold, high fever, head literally pounding, sore throat and so on, seeing your boyfriend minho take care of you makes you sob at every other gesture he does because he’s literally the sweetest and your brain just can’t comprehend what you ever did to deserve him.

in the morning, when he realizes you’re sick, he’ll instantly cancel every schedule he had for the day because there was no way he was going to leave you alone. that’s the first thing that’d make you cry.

the second thing would be the worry and confusion on his soft features because he’d have no idea why you just started tearing up, were you that much in pain? was it that bad? he’s ready to get up and take you to the nearest hospital right at that moment until you tell him that it’s not that bad and that you don’t even really know why you’re crying.

“aw, my baby’s sensitive because she’s sick, hmm?” he’d coo at you, talking to you in the voice he usually uses for his cats and softly let his hand wander to your cheek to cup it and have his thumb rub it soothingly. (he’d pet your head too)

throughout the day he’s just the sweetest yes ik i’m repeating myself ever bringing you hot teas and soups for your throat as well as medicine and wet towels to bring your fever and headaches down. yea, you’d cry a couple a lot* more times and every time minho would be by your side, his touches as soft as his voice telling you that it’s okay and to let it all out.

at the end of the day you’d be sleeping on minho’s chest with him having one arm wrapped tightly around you and the other playing with your hair with his free hand. he wouldn’t go to sleep until he’s made sure that your fever has gone down and you’re sleeping peacefully.

i hope this is comprehensible in some way bc i literally have the biggest headache rn but i had to write this idk the urge was so strong and i didn’t wanna wait :p

477 notes · View notes

ceallachs · 1 year

Photo

Redesigned Fantasy AU Akira 🍁👑

→ Akira 🍁 BakuTodo Love Child

He is a bit different from the usual Akira I draw in MHA timeline; you can read more about him below!

. .

Some Trivia:

The Crown Prince and son of the current rulers, Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto.

Akira is fluent in both Northern and Southern dialects. He more commonly speaks and writes in Northern dialect (Shouto’s language) unless speaking with Katsuki, with whom he uses the latter.

He is a seasoned ice magic user but is also skilled in swords.

He can play a variety of instruments such as piano and violin, taught to him by his parents.

Kirishima Zen is his personal attendant and bodyguard.

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

"Your Highness, someone here came to visit you," Zen calls out into the room before opening the door wider, whispering a small 'go on' as a girl takes a step inside.

“Y-Your Highness!" she chirps in a small voice, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear before quickly adjusting her hold on the box in her hands. "My a-apologies for interrupting your morning tea. The King had this delivered for you, so um, ah…"

Akira turns a page from his book, eyes not leaving the text, but he makes a casual gesture to one of the seats in the room. “Thank you. You can leave it there."

Miki is a cheerful young girl, bright eyes and all smiles. Zen had the pleasure of meeting her the night before and had witnessed her excitement fitting into her new uniform. But now in front of the prince, she is quite demure. Understandable; this is her first time speaking with Akira and she is close to his age.

"O-Okay!"

Her cheeks turn pink as she scrambles into the room to deposit the box on an empty seat. She gets distracted through it, slowed in her movements to observe the prince in silent awe, and almost peers at him under his fringe once she's close.

"Is there anything else?"

"N-No! I mean – thank you, Your Highness!" Miki backs away and straightens up in a panic, pushing her palms down her skirt to mask a nervous laugh. "I’ll be going now!" She does a little curtsy then, pausing once more to get one last look at Akira before turning for the door. Zen gives her an approving grin and a thumbs up on her way out, and takes note of her own smile reaching from ear to ear.

"Who was that?" Akira asks once they're alone. He hasn't moved from his seat, seemingly still absorbed in his book, but Zen sees him visibly relax when he lifts his cup to his lips.

“The grandchild of the retired Misaki-san, she started work today. Very excitable, that one. Cute, too." Zen chuckles as he glances at the box she left behind; he guesses it's an item of clothing considering the size and the large bow tied around it. "You could have asked her yourself, you know. You didn’t even look at her. Honestly, as the heir, you should set an example to–”

Akira sets his cup back down on the saucer, the punctuated clink of it, though not harsh, interrupting Zen's words. “I won't be taking over the throne until the next few decades.”

Zen smiles inwardly and tips the teapot over Akira’s empty cup. The clink of ceramic and the wisp of book pages fill the silence between them, and after a beat, Zen says, “Your eyes really are pretty. You can’t blame anyone who wants to look.”

Akira spares him a glance, the first of the day, clearly not pleased but not quite angry either. More exasperated than anything. Specks of silver and gold glint in his gray and crimson eyes, beauty and emotion manifested in one look and proving Zen's point – not that anyone but he can see this right now.

Sighing, Akira leans back on his chair and rests the side of his jaw on his knuckles. Zen almost mourns the loss of Akira’s gaze when his eyelids flutter close, his book now left forgotten on his lap.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you her name, so you can ask her yourself once you see her again. Introduce yourself like a good prince." Zen says playfully as he takes the novel from Akira’s lap, closes it, and places it on the table instead. He sees Akira's brows furrow but doesn't make an effort to retort and it feels like a victory, somewhat. "She's not going to turn into stone if you look at her."

"You don't understand."

Akira doesn't elaborate, and it stays quiet for the rest of the morning.

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

Context:

* Heterochromia is known to be an extremely rare physical feature, said to be blessed only to those of royal blood as evidenced by one of the current rulers, Todoroki Shouto, and his ancestors before him. Although such a feature is a symbol of nobility, power, and prestige, Akira considers his heterochromia as a source of insecurity. Everyone knows who he is, and those who don’t, need only to look at his eyes. He feels that his eyes hinder how people treat him and even to some extent judge him for it, so he has started avoiding making direct eye contact with anyone who is not familiar with him unless necessary. He also started growing his hair out a bit for the same reason, finding it helps to “hide” his eyes.

#bakutodo #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #ceallachs draws #bakugou akira #kirishima zen #todobaku

213 notes · View notes

ticklishfiend · 8 months

Text

A Plan Fit for an Angel (Good Omens)

(Lee! Aziraphale/Ler!Crowley) (brief lee!crowley/ler!aziraphale)

Summary : Crowley’s dignity was positively shattered being tickled by Aziraphale two weeks ago. Well, only one way to fix that: getting revenge. [see part one here! this is a sequel]

a/n : i lobe them sm

Word Count : 3626

hope u enjoy! :)

. . .

There are two types of demons: Those that like to strike as soon as they see their target, and those that plan their evil-doings methodically, thinking out every angle so they can strike their prey when they least expect it.

It might shock some to find that Crowley tends to lean more towards the latter.

It had been two weeks since Aziraphale had pestered Crowley with those god-awful jokes, relishing in his demon’s irritation. Two weeks since Crowley had been tickled into the couch cushions so Aziraphale could win an argument.

So for two weeks, Crowley has been planning.

And planning for Crowley doesn’t mean he just thought real long and hard about how he’d make his move. No, planning requires research. Lots and lots of research.

Tickling isn’t something Crowley would call a regular occurance between the two of them. Yes, it happens, has happened, but if you were to ask for something defining that they do together, tickling would be quite low on his list, if it made it there at all.

So maybe, before he strikes, he’ll need something of a…refresher.

Aziraphale stood in the bookshop’s tiny kitchen, making himself a cup of tea. Crowley stood at the doorway, wondering if his angel knew he was there.

“I know you’re there, yknow?”

Ah. So he does.

Doesn’t matter. He knows Aziraphale will continue to read through his book on the counter, waiting for his water to heat in the kettle like Crowley wasn’t even there. He was too comfortable in Crowley’s presence…making him far easier to attack.

So Crowley sauntered behind Aziraphale, miracling up a feather from his wing. He heard a page being flipped.

“Whatcha readin’?” Crowley asked, before placing the feather under Aziraphale’s shirt without having to move a finger. Real magic truly was the best thing since sliced bread (trust him, he was there when it happened, sliced bread was quite the invention for the time).

“Oh it’s a lovely book, I’ve read it many times but somehow I keep coming back to it. Georgette Heyer’s ‘The Black Moth.’ Quite a page turner; it takes place in 1751, during the—AH-!” Aziraphale flinched, his right arm gluing itself to his side.

Crowley smirked behind Aziraphale, still looking over his shoulder at the book. His finger waggled near Aziraphale’s coat, a magic tether traveling from it to the feather. “What was that, angel?”

“Er, nothing I just—well I think there may be something in my shirt. I do hope it’s not a bug,” Aziraphale said, before snapping his fingers. A feather floated down onto the pages of his book. A black feather, to be precise.

Aziraphale clicked his tongue. “I see.”

“How peculiar,” Crowley grinned. “Wonder how that got in there?” He walked right out of the room to avoid further accusations, all of which would probably be correct.

Stage one: complete.

Now onto stage two. Snake time, baby.

Crowley very rarely switched to his snake form these days. Really no need, plus any time he did he was usually beaten within an inch of discorporation by a horrified human. So no, he doesn’t typically take his snake form anymore.

But occasionally, when he’s feeling rather…well, one might use the word clingy (Crowley detests such accusations), he’ll be a snake for a few hours just for the excuse to curl up on Aziraphale’s lap while he reads.

This usually embarrasses Crowley, not exactly one open to admitting his love of cuddles and pets and head scratches. Which is why he’s especially excited about snake time today, since he’s getting to embarrass Aziraphale this time and not the other way around.

He’d taken his form around 20 minutes ago, giving himself time to adjust to the change and alert Aziraphale of his body today. When he heard, Aziraphale went and made a cozy spot for himself on the couch, beginning to read his book. It was a silent code to Crowley that Aziraphale was ready for cuddles whenever he was.

It was no surprise when Crowley slithered his way onto the couch, his now curled body finding purchase on Aziraphale’s lap. The angel got to petting, resting his book along the serpent’s scaled back. He scritched softly at Crowley’s head, running his hand down the length of his now much longer body.

Crowley almost got lost in the comfy-ness of it all when he felt Aziraphale stray too close to his underside, a sensitive area on both of his bodies. Ohohoh, the plan, yes right, I’ll get on that now.

With the sneakiness only a serpent could possess, he slowly moved his tail around until he found the area buttons can’t close up on Aziraphale’s shirt, and slithered his way in. Bingo.

He only allowed himself about an inch’s worth of entry, can’t get too confident now. He waited a few moments, listening for Aziraphale to stir or speak up. He didn’t move, though, so that’s a good sign. Now he can strike.

Crowley fluttered his tail back and forth, like a rattlesnake in slow motion. Aziraphale huffed.

“Is that you down there?” He asked, voice a little wobbly like trying to hold something back. Got ‘em.

“Is what me?” Crowley said in his tired, I’m-far-too-comfortable-to-care voice.

“It is you!” Aziraphale let out a giggle through his words, moving Crowley around in his lap to stop the incessant tickling that was still taking place on his lower belly. “Aha-! Crowley, stop!”

“I really don’t know what you mean,” Crowley yawned. “And stop moving me, m’comfortable.”

“I will not!” Finally, Aziraphale found the end of Crowley’s tail, pulling it out of his shirt and readjusting Crowley in his lap. “Now you stop that or I will be putting you off to the side.”

Crowley huffed, his body adjusting under his head in a way that almost looked like his head was laying in his arms. “Whatever. Didn’t even do it anyways. Punishing me for something I didn’t do? Now that’s just cruel.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, going back to petting Crowley while fixing his gaze back on his book.

Well, he really didn’t wanna risk ending this. Might as well enjoy it and plan for the next stage in his great scheme.

Which, as it happened, took place the very next day, snake Crowley no more.

Aziraphale sat on his favorite chair, listening to a record he recently bought at Maggie’s shop. He was the picture of content.

Crowley was bouncing on his heels ready to ruffle the angel’s feathers.

“Mmyes, some good ole’ Stravinsky. Rather liked that guy, with the whole y’know, riot debacle,” Crowley made his way around Aziraphale’s chair, leaning against its back. “Great fun that was.”

“Yes, that was a rather difficult event. I was there, you know, but I truly was only there to see the show,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley hummed, having heard the story before. He looked at Aziraphale’s ear below him, giving a puzzled look.

“What’s that in your ear?”

Aziraphale furrowed. “My ear?”

“Yes yes, there’s something in your ear.”

Aziraphale’s hand shot up to feel around his ear, “Where?”

“No you—you’re missing it, it’s nothing but a piece of fuzz, I think. Here, let me-“ He shooed Aziraphale’s hand away, before using his pointer to gently prod and scrape along the shell of his ear.

Aziraphale’s shoulder shot up. “Aha, wait, wait—there’s really no neheheed-“ He batted at Crowley’s hand, but couldn’t dissuade him.

“No seriously, I can get it if you just give me a moment-“ he wiggled the finger, and this time Aziraphale shot out of his chair with a quick giggle before turning and giving Crowley a pointed look.

“You’re messing with me,” Aziraphale straightened his coat before giving his ear a quick scratch. There was a smile small on the corner of his lips.

“Now why would I do that?”

Aziraphale shot him a look, “I’m not sure, but I know that’s what you were doing.”

Crowley walked toward Aziraphale until they were eye to eye. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, before walking out.

Stage three: complete, but Aziraphale was definitely onto him now. Time to set the real plan in motion.

Like it started, Crowley’s plan took place in the back room, wine in each of their hands as they talked and bickered and laughed with each other.

After having made Aziraphale laugh at one of his favorite stories to tell, Crowley smiled and remembered. Admittedly he had gotten a bit tipsy and nearly forgot about the whole thing until he saw his angel folding over in laughter just moments ago. Made him remember what this was all for.

He glanced over at the desk, noting Aziraphale’s current book having a very familiar bookmark peeking out of its pages. He had actually noticed this days ago, but was waiting until now to bring it up. Clever demon, he thought.

“What’s that there in your book?” He gestured lazily at it, sitting up like it was of great intrigue to him.

“Oh that’s…” Aziraphale looked at the book, like it was the first time he’d noticed it there. “Well, it’s my bookmark, of course.”

“Mmyes obviously it’s your bookmark. I meant what is it, exactly? Cause I don't know if I recognize this one.”

Aziraphale looked a bit flustered. “Erm, well it’s…it’s a feather, actually. But it works just as nicely as a bookmark.”

Crowley hummed. “Aren’t your feathers white, angel?”

Aziraphale looked without words for a moment (oh how Crowley just loved flustering his angel), before straightening his back with newfound confidence. “Well I didn’t say it was my feather, did I?”

“No, you’re right, you didn’t,” Crowley said, resting his chin in his palm as he relaxed over the arm of the sofa. Sometimes he likes letting Aziraphale think he’s won before pulling the rug out from underneath him. “Is it mine?”

Aziraphale was definitely blushing now, but he stayed on guard. “Yes, it is. You…put that blasted thing in my shirt the other day when I wasn’t looking. When it fell into my book I…well, I didn’t have a bookmark before and then I did. It’s really as simple as that.” He smiled at Crowley all clever, taking a sip from his wine.

Crowley gave Aziraphale a puzzled look. “You think I put that in there?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Well obviously. You’ve been messing with me for days.”

Crowley smirked. “Have I now?”

Aziraphale glared at him. His eyes were a bit squinted, very suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything. You’re accusing me of something I have no recollection of. I’m just asking how you think I was messing with you,” said Crowley, thinking ‘that’s right, lure him in.’

Aziraphale hesitated, like treading over thin ice. “…you’ve been teasing me, and you know it. You—you’re doing it now!”

Crowley couldn’t hold back his grin anymore. “I mean, can you blame me?” said Crowley before standing abruptly. He took a swig from the bottle, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and sat it hard against the table. “You messed with a demon angel. You never mess with a demon.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He set himself back further into his chair, hands holding onto the arms.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ohh, don't act all innocent now. You were quite the tease a couple weeks ago, as I remember,” Crowley pointed a finger at Aziraphale, who actually started…grinning.

“You’re still worked up over that, aren’t you?” Aziraphale asked, a clever smile taking him.

“No—no, that’s not what I mean-“

“Oh I’m sure. But you can’t really deny that apparently, you’ve been thinking about this quite a lot,” Aziraphale looked as smug as ever.

Crowley was admittedly a little stuck for words at the moment. His mouth formed around rebuttals but they never made it past his throat.

He growled before rushing over and grabbing Aziraphale by the lapels.

“Maybe so—but only because I needed to plan out exactly how I was going to get you back,” Crowley growled, grip tight on Aziraphale’s coat. He liked how nervous the angel suddenly looked. “Like I said, angel. You don’t tease a demon.”

Crowley let go of him, walking back and almost pacing in thought. He waggled a finger in the air, “But I can’t do it now. No, no you’re expecting it now. I’ve gotta get you when you’re totally off your guard,” He plopped himself back down on the couch, pointedly not looking at Aziraphale.

“So…you’re not tickling me now?” Aziraphale raised a brow his way, taking a slow sip.

“No, I’m not.”

Aziraphale shrugged, placing his glass on the table. “I’d let you.”

Crowley paused. He looked at Aziraphale like the angel had grown an extra arm. “You’d let me?”

“Well, yes. I don’t actually hate being tickled. You just keep doing it when I’m in the middle of something, or I’m trying to relax,” he said, which was the last thing Crowley was expecting. “If you just asked I’d be happy to oblige.”

Crowley was near seething. He wasn’t actually mad, just utterly irritated by how nonchalant Aziraphale could be about the whole thing. Crowley was beyond embarrassed when Aziraphale tickled him the other week. How could someone not be embarrassed by it?

Crowley shook his head, “It’s the principle of the thing. You tickled me when I wasn’t ready, I’ve got to do the same back,” Crowley took a much needed swig. “S’how revenge works, angel.”

“Be my guest then. I’m happy to wait,” Aziraphale grinned, so pleased with how quickly things had turned in his favor. Sure, he was still going to get tickled eventually. But now he knows the real context.

Crowley was still so flustered over his little tickle attack the other week, that he had been meticulously planning on how to get Aziraphale back just to regain his dignity. He couldn’t deny how adorable that much effort and thought was.

Crowley grumbled, throwing his head against the back of the couch. “Grrrrbut it’s not as fun now,” he slumped. “Now you know it’s gonna happen. Shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yes, maybe you shouldn’t have,” Aziraphale said. “Because now, once you do tickle me, I’ll have no choice but to tickle you back immediately after.”

Crowley gaped at him, actually letting out a low chuckle. “Oh really? Well that’s not fair, is it? Supposed to be tit-for-tat, don’t you think?”

“No, no I don’t think so. See, it doesn’t affect me nearly as much as it does you. That’s the fun in it.”

“It does not affect me. S’just not right for a demon to have such a weakness. Makes sense when you’re an angel, s’why you don’t give a shit.”

“I’ll have you know it’s perfectly normal for a demon to be ticklish. I tease you for it because it’s fun, but it’s not like you can help it. It’s your vessel, dear. And it’s a vessel I think you should take much more pride in than you’re giving it right now.”

Crowley just grumbled again, not really having a good response. He knows he can’t help it, but it’s still so…weird. It’s not just because he’s a ticklish demon. It’s that he’s a ticklish demon who actually finds it a little bit fun when his angel is the one tickling him. That’s the part that’s got him all screwy.

But it’s not like he could just say that.

So he stewed for a bit, thankful for Aziraphale allowing him his stew time in peace. The angel sat contentedly, sipping on his wine and basking in the lovely tension their bookshop always seemed to hold.

Crowley stewed and stewed. Pinching his lips together, sipping on the wine, reaching over and filling Aziraphale’s glass when he realized it had gone empty. But he had to say something eventually, because obviously Aziraphale wasn’t going to speak first.

And also because he kind of still wanted this to happen. Just a little.

“Fine.”

Aziraphale looked up. “Fine?”

“Yes, fine, whatever, just get over here and let me get my fffffucking revenge already.”

Aziraphale grinned, already beginning to stand. “I thought you said I couldn’t expect it when you get your revenge?”

“Oh that’s still gonna happen,” He smiled as Aziraphale sat next to him, the demon already crawling into his space.

“You do remember I’m getting you back as soon as you’re done, right?” Aziraphale said with a nervous titter in his voice, backing up towards the arm of the couch.

“Yeah I know. Guess that just means I’ve gotta make this count,” Crowley said as he fully closed in on Aziraphale, cornering him into the couch. He just hovered, for a moment, his hands floating over Aziraphale without touching him.

Aziraphale swallowed. “Well…?”

Crowley grinned. “Well, what?” He wiggled his fingers, and Aziraphale tittered anxiously.

“Are you going to…?”

“Can’t say it now?” Crowley’s eyes were devilish as he smirked. “Is someone getting nervous now that I’ve got him cornered?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, a meek attempt at confidence over the situation. His slight squirming and tight lipped smile gave him away. “No.”

“No?” Crowley asked, before jerking his hand down near Aziraphale’s side, laughing at Aziraphale’s flinch. “I haven’t even touched you!”

“But you’re going to!” Aziraphale practically whined, a ghost of a giggle lacing his voice. “Just get on with it, I’m not sure I can take this.”

Crowley smiled genuinely. “Oh alright. But just because it’s you.”

Finally, after waiting oh so patiently for this moment the past two weeks, Crowley struck. He went straight for Aziraphale’s sides, thankfully unguarded since the angel had taken his vest off hours ago. Aziraphale yipped, trying to hold in his laughs for a brief moment before falling into those angelic cackles Crowley could eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“AH! Ahaha—Crohowley!” he laughed, sliding down unconsciously and only stretching his body out more for Crowley. “Wahahait!”

“Oh no, I’ve done plenty of waiting recently,” Crowley said, delivering sporadic pokes up and down Aziraphale’s torso, the angel’s cackles shooting up as he did so. “See, s’not so fun when it’s you getting tickled, huh?”

“It’s fuhuhun! Just—“ he was cut off by his own loud laughter as Crowley shot his hands into his armpits. Arms slammed against his sides, twisting and turning every which way because it was just too much. “—tihihickles!”

Crowley chuckled, ecstatic. “Bet it does,” he said, pulling one hand out from its trapped state in Aziraphale’s underarm to reach up and give his ear gentle scratches. Aziraphale squeaked, a hand shooting up to protect the ear. Seeing the opportunity, Crowley shot his hand right back under his arm, and Aziraphale shook his head through his laughter and shock.

“Nohot fahahair!” Aziraphale blushed, unsure of what to do with his hands. He opted to batting them around uselessly.

“You’re playing with a demon, angel, what did you expect?” Crowley said, before taking both hands out to squeeze, pinch, poke, prod and scribble all over Aziraphale’s tummy.

Aziraphale’s laughter was all over the place now. It was like he couldn’t decide whether to give deep, belly laughs or squeals and giggles fit for his angelic persona. The tips of Crowley’s ears grew warm at the sound.

“This is hysterical, by the way,” Crowley laughed, pinching Aziraphale’s hips and watching as he barked a laugh, twisting and gripping onto Crowley’s wrists. “I mean I knew you were ticklish, but this is priceless.”

“You’ve made your point!” Aziraphale giggled out helplessly. “I gehehet it! It’s bahahad! It’s sohoho baahahad—!” He fell into a giggle fit that made it impossible to hold a conversation, wheezing pitifully.

“I could keep going, yknow. Show you actual demonic torture,” Crowley grinned when Aziraphale shook his head, cheeks plump and pink from mirth. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll consider it.”

Aziraphale slapped Crowley’s arm playfully. Crowley poked softly but quickly over Aziraphale’s torso, easing up on the tickling just enough for him to get some words out. Aziraphale panted a bit, giggles lacing every breath.

“Okay okhahay! I’m sohohorry!” Aziraphale giggle, pushing Crowley’s hands away from him. Crowley let his hands be moved for just a moment, before giving one last quick squeeze to Aziraphale’s hips just to make him yip.

Crowley smiled down at his angel, watching him catch his breath and try to will away that blush from his cheeks. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with a pointed expression, “Wily serpent.”

Crowley laughed, “You asked me to!”

“I did not ask you to. You obviously wanted to do it so I…obliged,” Aziraphale shrugged, the lie plain as day on his face. Crowley couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yes, of course. Obliging the temptation of a demon really is your forte, after all,” Crowley teased, laying his front down on Aziraphale’s, making himself comfy. “Had your fun?”

Aziraphale sighed through a smile, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Crowley’s back. “Well…not quite.”

Crowley’s face puzzled before feeling Aziraphale’s grip tighten around his torso. His snake eyes grew twice their size, “C’mon angel, play fair.”

“This is fair. I told you what I’d do if you tickled me,” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead, not giving him a moment to think about that shit before digging his fingers into the backs of Crowley’s ribs.

“FuhuAHK-!” Crowley jolted, falling into helpless laughter on top of his angel. He squirmed and giggled and held onto Aziraphale’s body even tighter just so he could resist throwing himself off.

“‘Demonic cackle’ my behind,” Aziraphale teased. “You’re far too sweet for that, my dear.”

Crowley blushed, hiding that and his smile in Aziraphale’s neck, not missing the way the angel giggled whenever his nose brushed the skin.

The plan ended up being much more than successful. It was everything Crowley could’ve ever hoped for.

. . .

a/n : hope u enjoyed! consider reblogging if u liked it <3

#tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #good omens #good omens tickling #lee!aziraphale #ler!crowley #lee!crowley #ler!aziraphale #ticklish aziraphale #ticklish crowley

90 notes · View notes

yourcarnevoreuspal · 4 months

Text

Anyways, I keep seeing posts on carnivorous plant preds, and that's what sparked my rant because I have carnivorous plant preds whom I told everyone I know about, and I love them.

So, while I won't go into too much detail on them, I'll share a few ideas I have about the concept.

I have two kinds of plant-people characters, ones who are the plant and ones that look human but have plants growing as part of them. Coincidentally, both my carnivorous plant bois are the latter.

The first boi has a big ol pitcher plant growing out of his abdomen/stomach region but is mostly concealed by the leaf that covers the opening, so the pitcher itself is at an angle and is his actual stomach. All you can see is a cute leaf on his belly til he decides you look tasty-

The second boi I don't consider a pred as much just due to my preferences in vore, but could totally be one if it was in your interest. This is because he doesn't have a stomach, not really. His carnivorous plant is called a Butterwort and is a massive one growing from his back. The butterwort eats bugs by producing a substance on their leaves that resembles water, luring the bugs but actually causes them to stick once they land, the substance then also digesting the bug. I'm sure you can see now why I don't consider him a pred, not to mention his docile nature. I think it could be interesting to see a character like him in g/t vore or the like. However, it's not my cup of tea.

My last plant pred is the first type I mentioned, but he's not a carnivorous plant. He's just like a humanoid onion guy. He's also a farmer and despises pests in his garden. Should he catch one in or near his precious garden? Well, it just so happens his favorite meal is meat. You might be wondering 'oh why does a plant guy who's also a farmer eat meat?'

Listen there are reasons and more details I'm not mentioning about my plant characters / species ok, ?? I'm just hesitant to talk about them cause ?? I've told everyone I know about these guys and if I go in to all the cool details---

Another idea I have but haven't executed yet is an Anemone boi. Yes, I know they aren't plants, but they do fit in nicely with my other plant people. Just thought I'd throw them out there to the vore community as an option, too.

Oh, and if you're into d/n&/d you should check out the Body/taker Plant. Massive plant that eats creatures and replaces them with po/dling copies.

#male pred #unwilling prey #male vore #fatal vore #vore talk #vore rant #carnivorous plant preds #vore ideas #vore inspiration

6 notes · View notes

shit-talk-turner · 5 days

Note

it seems like you don’t really follow her now because that’s not really her entire personality anymore. I genuinely think she’s hilarious, I love her sense of style, could listen to her have a conversation with a potted plant she’s so entertaining, and find her refreshing //

Yeah admittedly I don’t see much of her because I blocked her and a lot of her fan pages because I’m just not interested in her and that’s the best way to avoid it. However I’ve seen a few videos over the years (I watched a few on her YouTube channel because I liked the sound of the titles) and I still just got those same pretentious, obnoxious “I’m so quirky” vibes. It’s definitely toned down more, but it’s still there maybe just more subtilely. I thought she wasn’t a particularly good interviewer or conversationalist in those videos and it just reminded me of a certain type of woman I know and loathe very well. Like I personally would rather just watch the potted plant and I’d probably be more amused/engaged lol.

Also in regards to her style, I’m really not a fan either. I think she can look as strangely mismatched as Louise, some genuinely horrific sartorial choices played off as “fashion”. (Feel like I need to now add a disclaimer that I’m not a Louise defender. She can’t dress for shit.) It’s that classic dilemma of ‘is it a fit or are they just skinny?’ - like with most models awful outfits, it’s usually the latter. Like Louise, I think her outfits could be genuinely nice if it wasn’t trying so hard to do so much at once, shoving on as many vintage numbers as will fit.

Thank you for a nice response though because I genuinely do find it intriguing how people are so fascinated by someone who I just don’t understand why. I respect your opinion, even if it’s not my own, and yours it’s clearly the majority opinion so it might just be a me problem lmao

It might also be more our sense of humor/style/whatever. You’re totally entitled for her to not be your cup of tea.

4 notes · View notes

archesa · 1 year

Note

have anwen and/or galaed for the ask game, if you’d like! :D (and hope you feel better soon! <3) @kerra-and-company

Thank you 🥰 It's already better than this morning but i'm not out of the woods yet 😅

Anwen, my beloved:

01. Full name: Vicountess Anwen Evergreen (if Snargle is to be believed, Faren would be a Duke... Anwen's bloodline is nowhere as prominent and influent as the Farens but her parents did bestow upon her a title – mostly honorific – to go with her estate in the Reach)

02. Best friend: Meryw 🌲💙 (though one could argue that Meryw is her sister and Canach is her best friend 😅)

03. Sexuality: Quarterly bi! (courtesy of @lilypixy) Demi but so slow to work out her attraction that she only gets half of that label 🤣 !

04. Favorite color : Sapphire blue

05. Relationship status: Taken (by Trahearne)

06. Ideal mate: clever, thoughtful, gentle, supportive... Trahearne.

07. Turn-ons: Neck kisses, being swept off her feet

08. Favorite food: Orrian truffle risotto, New Kaineng Noodles (the extra spicy ones), white chocolate and raspberry cake 🍰

09. Crushes: Sieran, Trahearne (insert 'not sure if' meme : not sure if bi, pan, or just really into sylvari)

10. Favorite music: Balade, sung poems and festive music (she particularly loves the bell choirs of Wintersday because the crystalline sounds remind her of Aurene)

11. Biggest fear: "That one day through my actions I'd condemn someone to suffer in agony." - Her worst fear comes true both with Apatia and Trahearne. In a broader sense, she's terrified of failing to protect her loved ones, of outliving them...

12. Biggest fantasy: The dragon cycle has ended, Aurene is happy and at peace, her friends and family are safe from all harm and she's living her life alongside with her loved ones. There's a library with more books, scrolls and tablets that could be read in a dozen lifetimes, and the more they read the more volumes appear. Running out of time is not something either of them has to worry about, though. There's a garden that needs tending, and a plum tree with a blanket underneath and fairy lights in it, and always a glass of wine or a cup of tea at hand. — a little sneak peek of their "after" 😌

13. Bad habits: Takes more than she can shoulder and hides it till she breaks ; inadvertently ghosts people because she has time blindness and picks up relationships where they left out

14. Biggest regret: Being unable to save Sieran and Blish... there were other deaths she wish she could go back in time and do things differently to avert, but none feel more unfair than these two..

15. Best kept secrets: A generous and totally anonymous donation she made to the Shining Blade, in hope to commute some of a certain sylvari's service time.

16. Last thought: as in... her last thought, or the last thought I had about her? For the latter I was wondering which Aurene legendary to give her before the new content drops... whether to finish Aurene's Insight – that I could use on a LOT of my characters – or finish the shield or get her the greatsword... I love her wielding Caladbolg and I don't want that to change but a branded Caladbolg would be... somewhat bittersweetly fitting. I don't really know how to explain 😅

17. Worst romantic experience: The amount of stress she was under when she realised she was in love with Trahearne, the fear of losing him and the dark relief she felt when the many deaths they encountered were, at least, not his.

18. Biggest insecurity: She wonders if she could have done more to protect Aurene from the crushing weight of her destiny... to buy her some time, some peace, some safety...

19. Weapon of choice: Greatsword and shield

20. Role Model: The people she loves have shaped her throughout her life and keep shaping her as she journeys forth. Violet and Conrad Faren, with their kind heart and sharp spirits ; the memory of her parents, a legacy she wanted to honour ; Logan Thackeray, with all the dumb courage and chaotic energy of a golden retriever; Sieran, for her unbridled joy in discovery and for being the first person Anwen could really infodump to without seeming to tire her; Meryw, for the constance of her heart, the brilliance of her mind and the valiance of her soul ; Trahearne, for his openness, his dedication and the brightness of his hope.

Both @dumb-dumb-mander and you requested some insight on Galaëd so I'll make an Autumn Birch centric post tomorrow and tag you both, if that's okay 🥰🍂 gonna hit the hay, now!

#archesa answers #thanks a lot for asking #i enjoyed answering these a lot!#anwen evergreen #I'm thinking a lot about her lately with new content dropping next week 🤩😍

11 notes · View notes

much-ado-about-whumping · 1 year

Text

A small note - I've seen that I have some new followers after that "help for when you're having a rough time" post. Welcome! I want to give you a gentle heads-up that the majority of the content on my blog is 18+ non-con nsfwhump. I like hurt/comfort, and my whumpees make it out okay in the end, but the hurt part gets dark. I try to be thoughtful about putting graphic details under a cut and tagging my own work carefully. I'm not always awesome at tagging other people's work when I reblog. Just want new followers to get a heads-up in case those vibes aren't a good fit for you! I won't be hurt if you unfollow, and you're still welcome to DM me or send asks anytime.

If you liked my tips and want others like them, you might enjoy my general sideblog, @gutterdiamond (which I currently cannot tag or receive DMs on for some reason). The tags there that are most like my tips post will be #how to be a person in the world, #touchstones, #soothing reminders, #trauma and storytelling, #mental health toolkit, and #recovery toolkit. You might also like #adulting toolkit, #conversation scripts, and #solidarity toolkit. The latter is my tag for when I learn new ways to take better care of others in my community, or when someone articulates one of my care needs really well. Warnings for that blog are occasional mild nsfw content (R-rated, not X-rated), and liberal and untagged reclamation of slurs related to queerness.

These tips aren't about me, and I tried to decenter myself when compiling them. I hope you can use them even if I, personally, turn out to be super not your cup of tea. A community takes many different kinds of people, and all of us deserve to feel safe and loved! But I also know my blog can press some precarious buttons for some people, so I wanted to be sure to give everyone a real chance to stay safe. Love and solidarity, y'all. 💙💙💙

#bel talks #whump community #bel's housekeeping #edited to fix MY OWN URL that i somehow misremembered lolsob

9 notes · View notes

padfootastic · 2 years

Note

Jegulus baffles me but as long as they treat Sirius fine and there is no wolfstar , the enemy turned lovers trope can be interesting to read. Because otherwise they just copypaste sirius and his troubles onto his brother to make him sympathetic to readers which why??it just ends up being James with a younger slytherin sirius lol while villainising the actual Sirius . I feel they want prongs to be gay but not gay with padfoot because wolfstar would be in serious danger then lmao

(combining these bc they’re in a similar vein and i don’t wanna clog people’s feeds w too much ship hate lol)

i think i’m not a jegulus person first & foremost bc the enemies to lovers trope isn’t my cup of tea but also that’s the only way i can see them work so it’s just not my ship in general ykno? i don’t mind talking about/discussing it but i don’t think i can read proper fic where this whole thing plays out in detail.

also no, anon, how can james be gay with sirius, that’s i n c e s t didn’t u know 😒 it’s ok if it’s regulus tho (even if they’re in the same family tree) bc no one ever described them as being as close as brothers (and ofc remus hugging sirius like a brother was just harry being oblivious 🥰) so yah. prongsfoot is really not okay, alright? 😤

and i’m gonna be honest, that dumb jock stereotype was so prevalent in jily fics too my god. it’s one of the reasons i developed such an aversion for both jily & lily (altho i think it’s gotten much, much better now?). it was rly just a doubly whammy bc u had both jily and wolfstar (neatly fitting boxes 🥰) and both of them fully defanged both my fav boys. it was the most annoying stuff ever. i’m seeing something similar w the jegulus + wolfstar fics too but like. yah. can’t say much there bc the former isn’t my thing and i’m too biased w the latter.

also (warning: this is tipsy pen speaking henceforth so don’t expect coherence) i just think sirius and james are inherently more equal & balanced than literally any other couple on earth. and like,,,i’m not saying i don’t like fucked up dynamics (bc some of my ships would vehemently disagree lmao) but it’s just. so. uncomplicated so fucking simple. and so good to read ykno? and it never feels like you’ve to demean one to prop up the other (what i mean by balanced) because like. for one thing, if you’ve ever written anything, u know how dominant ur characters can be. so do any of us rly think that james or sirius would be ok with their best friend/partner being undermined like that? they’d literally burst out of the page to smack u in the face if u tried like that lol and that’s not something i can say for r/s tbh

#sirius black #wow really channelling all that suppressed sarcarm there huh #it’s just. some other level of cognitive dissonance lol #i’m sorry friends tags are not my friend rn #i can barely type #or think #but rest assured i have a lot of thoughts about this #altho i think most people would know then by now #i’m so repetitive i swear #no original thoughts #pen’s asks

13 notes · View notes

we-return-in-waves · 2 years

Note

multiples of 9

did u know i am deeply in love with you

9. i think of any character i’ve written across all the fandoms i’ve tried the hardest one is a tie between takashi morinozuka from ouran high school host club, and rock lee from naruto. the former, because he’s a dead silent character and while there’s absolutely character development, we don’t hear enough of his “voice” as a character to sort of explain his thought processes and feelings. most of my character voice for him is inspired by other fanfics. the latter, because shippuden and bort really did less than nothing in terms of character development and what voice we have that actually seems rounded and developed is almost exclusively a character at like 8-14 years old, and writing someone who is an adult in my fics when you don’t have much “adult” voice to go on is hard — i’ve never felt like someone as a preteen is the same as an adult, but the question becomes how to write that in a way that fits the base personality but reflects emotional development/change that we never really seem to get with him.

18. i think you can interpret wildest in a few ways! for wildest as in most likely for people to go “lmao this is insane content” it would be We Don’t Talk About Fight Club, because that whole fic is absolutely balls to the walls self-indulgent horny gaalee nonsense based on a very weird dream. For wildest as in “you put those dudes in really really out there situations ಠ_ಠ ” i would say march of progress, because even though i’ve heard many a comment saying it’s canon! and they’re right it’s probably the fic that is least likely to be someone’s cup of tea.

27. i think the nicest comment i’ve ever received is

thanks @abetterversionofmyself hkgdfgjlfdh

no in all reality i don’t know if i could pick a single one. i’ve been blessed with so many discord friends who have left reviews that leave me in tears on the floor with delight, and even more discussion behind the scenes! i definitely extra love reviews which mention smaller details or talk about their predictions because i delight in when they are right (and delight even harder when they’re totally wrong lmao)

pls give me an excuse to talk i’m bored yall

#fanfiction #writing #writing gronp hours #ask game #gaalee #<- since i linked two fics of mine lol #ao3 #kelposting

6 notes · View notes

hopefullystillliving · 2 years

Text

Tag 10 people you wanna know better

Tagged by @miriel-therindes, thank you!

Relationship status: Single as a pringle and perfectly content. (also alsjdflsj Lyndeth I've proposed to people with ringpops before as a joke)

Favorite colour(s): Blues, teal-greens, purples, gold, silver

Favorite food: Specifically my mom's cucumber sushi. It's to die for.

Song stuck in my head: Don't Stop Believing. I heard it over a store radio and it's been haunting me. I hate it.

Last thing you googled: Ring verse black speech

Time: 8:18 pm

Dream trip: I literally don't know. I want to visit all seven continents (3/7 so far) so maybe get Antarctica out of the way?

Last thing you read: Today's Dracula Daily

Last book you enjoyed reading: In full? Lord of the Flies

Last book you hated reading: Jane Eyre. Not my cup of tea.

Favorite thing to cook/bake: Hmm. Probably devil's food cake or chocolate chip cookies. The former because it's to die for and the latter because they're super easy. I like making lots of stuff though.

Favorite craft to do in your free time: Well if writing counts, that, I do origami sometimes when I'm bored and I've been trying to get into embroidery...

Most niche dislike: Bad history teachers, specifically. More than any other subject to me, a history teacher makes or breaks the class, and even I who loves history will grow to hate it.

Opinion on circuses: I haven't been to one since I was six, and barely remember it. I remember thinking it was pretty cool- the acrobats are definitely a highlight, but I'm glad that less circuses are using animals now.

Do you have any sense of direction? ...A little. A very little. I can figure out NESW via the sun and can sorta recognize how to get to places I'm very familiar with but. Yeah. GPS is a wonderful thing.

Tell us about your D&D character(s): HAHAHAHA!!! INFODUMP TIME!!!

Kaelind Siankiir-Kranuv: Half-elf Bard/Cleric (College of Lore/Life domain), my perfect angel of do no harm take no shit. She's got wanderlust and a tendency to never fit in, made worse by her setting, but she's shockingly well adjusted overall. Her backstory is very jack of all tradesy- her parents traveled for her mother's seasonal dock-work and her father's scholarly odd-jobs, she was involved in both of those and music from a young age, she became a cleric bc her mother was healed by one after a serious accident. She actually isn't a cleric to her primary deity (his domain is mostly music) so her service has some interesting warlock-pact undertones since she is doing it for power, even if that power is intended to help. Which is kinda heresy but unbeknownst to me at the time actually fits her god's backstory really well. Her campaign has been set aside for now in favor of Aret's bc hers is all homebrew while theirs is Waterdeep: Dragon Heist so it'll be easier to get everyone used to each other/the game. She's my pfp!

Aret "Reign" Pyrnomos: Tiefling Sorcerer (Wild Magic) and also an investigative attorney. They came about bc I thought "You know what would be funny? A bunch of demon tiefling lawyers who love order but have super chaotic magic. And like a really big family. I mean really big. The family tree I made has 75 people. The family business (Pyrnomoi & Co. at Law) was started by great-great grandpa who made a pact with his grandmother Fierna for power and prosperity of his descendants so long as the law firm stands, more or less. Aret and their family and the business are all kind of inexorably linked? As a result of prejudice everyone is hyper aware of how what they do affects the family and business, and are very strict in how they act publicly. We have a rogue on the team but Aret literally refuses to aid/abet crime without serious backup plans so that's gonna be interesting! Also they have half-proficiency in animal handling bc of all their little cousins XD

Aster Stardew: "Drow" Oracle Track Druid (1st lvl but he's gonna be Circle of Stars). His name coinciding with my favorite game was unintentional on my part but delightful- I translated it from dndelvish "Holistacia" without realizing lol. Drow is in quotes bc his campaign is in a homebrewed Owl House setting (hence the Oracle Track)! I know very little about the Owl House, so it's gonna be interesting to play! He is best characterized in short as "neurodivergent and a minor", and also "looks like he wants to kill you (edgy), is actually a cinnamon roll". He tries to be edgy (his background is "haunted one" bc it's hilarious but also suits if I play up the edgelord a little) but literally can't stop himself from being nice, to his dismay and his therapist's delight. He's probably read the Boiling Isles version of My Immortal unironically. I just made him a few days ago, so he's still percolating in my mind, but he's babie and I love him.

Tagging: anyone who sees this and wants to. I don't have the brainpower to tag people right now, but rest assured I want to get to know yall better!

#tag game #my ocs #kaelind #aret pyrnomos #aster stardew

1 note · View note

the-pen-is-mighty-and-so-are-you · 8 months

Text

A petit cup of tea - from wp blog, 17/11/2019

Now, let's return to the (relatively) real world for a moment; I know I probably left you with a few questions with my last post. Why is a famous writer going to meet up with a child? What exactly are the worlds of the first and second section? Where is Busan? And I did say I would explain. So, I'll sprinkle that somewhere in here, like a little bit of ketchup on your sandwich to spice up a café review - which, indeed, this shall be!

The café in question again happens to be in my hometown which, considering I've technically moved on to pursue the high-end city life of a student, I've been returning to quite a bit. My visit took place on yet another productive-seeming Friday: I'd been flitting up and down the high street between charity shops, desperately searching for a job interview outfit, trying to find one that struck a balance between a neutral-yet-trendy and mature-yet-youthful look, one that really shouted, "Hello! I'm energetic and fashionable and perfect to work behind your ultra sleek bar in your ultra sleek club!" It was not easy - by the time the feat was achieved, it was past three o'clock, and I hadn't yet had lunch.

Usually I would be in a barely-contained foul mood, slouching and suffering from an empty stomach. However, I had also purchased A Very Nice Coat (although some pesky folk might insist it's a jacket), and so I made my way down the high street slope with the confidence of someone wearing something that actually fits them. In fact, after such a wondrous experience with the coat, I've considered that perhaps I just need to buy everything I have in my wardrobe but a couple of sizes smaller. I don't need more expressive clothes, I need clothes that express my actual size. It's a small, but hugely important aspect that can help you live in your skin a bit better.

Huh. Maybe I'll turn into a 'beauty blogger'.

Wardrobe revelations aside, by the time I'd made the march down to the foot of the high street hill, I was yearning for a wholesome lunch - and Le Petit Café certainly did not disappoint. I remember visiting the place when it was still fresh and new around a year ago, and since then it's clearly only improved. With an upside down bicycle in the window and artwork for sale on the walls, it's a nice, quietly hipster venue with a tasty menu: speaking of which I had a delicious cheddar and cauliflower soup, the likes of which I've never had so creamy. Of course I had the mandatory hot drink with it, a chai latte (pictured) which matched in creaminess. I enjoyed both too much to focus on the laptop I'd put with good intent in front of me, and after I'd consumed both the friendly staff seemed eager for me to move onto my second course - I got the sense that it wasn't a place intended for lone reflection. The fact that I wasn't with someone seemed to compel the staff into making up for it by frequently approaching me, urging me onto the next course. I thus enjoyed a 'caramelita' for pudding: spiced caramel with white chocolate chips and an oat base, and so sweet that I had to hide half of it in a napkin to finish later.

But, let's pretend I did in fact get something productive done on my laptop that afternoon - that I tapped away and worked on writing the explanation I said I would provide for my last piece of writing. Well, here is what I wrote then, definitely copy-and-pasted from a separate document, and definitely not written at the same time as the rest of this post.

When considering how best to 'explain' the context in my life within which My Dream Korea was written, I am faced by two paths - the Dream and the Korea. The latter is perhaps more deserving of its own post another day, so I will focus on the former.

Writers are all full of dreams, I think. Well, all people are, to an extent. Mine have proven particularly strong, propelled by a continuous imagination and occasional inspiration. This has formed a sort of 'dream world' in my mind. It's different from the worlds I create for my stories, because this world is entirely selfish - it's main purpose is for me to explore possibility in alternate realities, and virtually satisfy my deepest desires. Flying, for example. Leaping off a tall city building in slow motion, stretching my arms out as large black wings grow and feather and flex their muscles on my back, swooping down to a bridge and then nosediving into the water only to break through, as I pierce the surface of the water, into the sky of another location. Things like that - anything is possible, and I can zoom in on and replay any detail I like, like designing, directing and acting in my own film, except it's a form of life.

I am fully aware of the deep-rooted psychological facts about myself this can reflect. I know that it is probably a defense mechanism, given as it is most used when I need to restore hope for myself. It's also constantly changing, and sometimes when I'm going through a period of extreme change, it can take me a while to find what thrills me. Recently I've been in a kind of limbo, unable to create and settle on a new idea - which is why I wrote some of the world down, to try and focus my brain enough so that it can enjoy that side of non-reality again.

My Dream Korea opens with a version of myself that represents some of my darkest moments, suffering through feelings of desperation and frustration, and yearning so much for hope and happiness that I would intoxicate myself to try and reach the 'other side'. It is a hyperbole that serves to contrast with the warmth of the dream world I then describe. And then, what I write is really just trying to convey the blissful experience I had in the real world, when I visited South Korea - when I felt like I was living so contently that it became a dream while I stayed there. This version of my dream world is trying to preserve and maintain those ultimate feelings of happiness from my memories, while exploring what my future could have been if I had stayed there a bit longer. In a sort of loose, fanfiction-style, 'if I was already a famous author' kind of way.

So I'm exploring this world along with you, visitor. The next chapter isn't written - I don't know what will happen next. In this way, my dream world, and My Dream Korea, is a form of life. I hope you will join me on its journey.

Speaking of journeys, the trip I made to Le Petit Café certainly paid off. It felt far warmer and more personal than the previous chain cafés, as I expected, although the downside of that was they didn't leave me in peace to get any writing done. It would have been perfect, however, if I had gone there with the intent of socialising - so it would be a good place for you and me to catch up over a cup of chai someday. We can always sneak a bourbon in when they're not looking, or convene in the toilet to have a biscuit break. Sound good? Yeah, I think it's a plan. Anyway, overall, I give it:

8/10 petit croissants

#this cafe no longer exists #i don't know why i analysed the last post when i literally analyse it here #creative writing

1 note · View note

sylvctica · 2 years

Text

@goldenorder ➤ unprompted

“As you may already know, today marks the Qixi Festival. It is customary to express love through food, so I thought this would be an opportune time for us to indulge a little.” Though ‘a little’ may be understating it with the numerous snacks he has laid out: an assortment of fruits and nuts, confections including fried bean tea and rice sticks—all to be enjoyed with tea on the side, soaked in fresh honeysuckle. And of course, there is no Qixi without Qiaoguo, which is already packaged in his hands to be personally handed off.

Now that he actually thinks on it—yes, he may have gotten a tad carried away. And while both do not need to eat, to share food is to share a part of yourself. To eat is to trust and accept. So it became only natural to pull out all the stops for his preparations.

That, and he simply saw the chance to spoil them.

“If we trace back to the origins of the festival, the legend speaks of two lovers stripped of one another by forces out of their control. It is only through their perseverance and devotion do the two find each other again despite the odds…I believe that should we ever find a time where we are apart, we will meet again—as proven twice before already." As cliche as that may sound. Cupping the handmade treat into their hands with care, he gives them a chaste kiss to their lips.

"A happy Qixi Festival to you, my jade."

Oh, they were already more than aware, bearing their own gift( s ) for the other god which were tucked away, but their thought of handing those over was shelved once his work was shown off ... that being quite a hefty banquet with an assortment of snacks that were tickling all the good spots in their eyes, making them unintentionally lick their lips as green eyes swept over each item to take it in.

“Is this then a sign of an overflow of love through food?” The words were accented with a soft laugh, but they didn’t linger longer on offering any additional commentary when he began to speak again; the corners of their eyes crinkled alongside their smile, only widening near the latter half of his sentence.

‘We will meet again,’ indeed.

Fingers closed around the offered gift as the kiss was returned just as chastely, knowing that it was his own hands that put the work into making it ... and his love, and himself. A handwritten love letter to be consumed.

“I think all we’re missing the magpies then to really make it fit for us as well, and maybe an old and wise cow somewhere. A happy Qixi Festival to you too, my mountain.” Just as he had offered his own gift, it was their turn to hand him what they’ve gotten in his free hand.

Their time in Inazuma helped inspired them to create a little something that was right in their skill-range: a lacquered bento box, made by their own two hands. Although they cannot say they were the most artistic person, subtle carvings were made into the wood in patterns of woven vines and leaves.

“... it’s no feast, but I thought it might be nice for days you do take meals to work, having everything in either small compartments or a big one is quite nice. Has some treats inside too, for you ... which would go with the tea you made too.”

Inside the box was a small assortment of gifts: hand-made baslogh, covered with coconut shavings, and a small satchel of black dragon pearls, perfect for a rich, black tea later down the line ( considering he already made tea in the first place ). “I thought I’d try my hand at a Sumeru recipe ... quite a small quantity compared to what you made here, huhu, but I hope you will enjoy it. I suppose now we have a full course of snacks to choose from—and a very special one for me—so ... shall we indulge then?”

#[ food is love and tea is gay ]#[ i dont think that was what's on sarah z's tshirts but it feels contextual here ]#[ ANYWAY JUST TWO OLD GODS HAVING A FEAST FOR 5 ]#SYLVIE // ANSWERED.#goldenorder

1 note · View note

vinniehackedmyheart · 2 years

Note

hii! can you do imagine were the reader is sick an vinnie take care of her?

pd: i love your work🤍

“Yeah, sick with love…” - Vinnie Hacker Imagine.

“…vinnie that’s not funny…”

requested : yes!! by @imsmols-blog , im sorry it look me so long to get round to <3

warnings: none just fluff !!

summary: the reader falls ill and vinnie cares for her

you woke up with the most painful ache in your head you think you have ever felt.

sweat was practically dripping from your forehead and out the tiny pores on your nose as you pried your eyes open slightly and winced instantly as the light invaded through.

your palm drives straight onto your forehead and is met with a temperature you are sure could cook an egg if someone cracked one on your head.

admittedly, that’s of an out there thought but your boyfriend is tiktok’s most sought after man, Vinnie Hacker.

you wouldn’t put it past him…

vinnie wakes up from his peaceful slumber next to you from the sound of you in pain.

he scratches his head before opening his eyes, a furrow nesting nicely on his brow as he located the source of the wince.

“y/n?…” he says in his hoarse, raspy morning voice which, on a normal day, would make you absolutely swoon but today, all you can do is muster up a quiet groan.

“hey y/n, are you okay?” he says loader this time, becoming more alert due to your situation.

“i feel so ill” you say as you pull your mouth into a frown, feeling the need to be sick.

“okay hold on i’ll be back in minute” he says and you watch as your boyfriend rises from the bed, his fair flopping loosely onto his forehead as he stands up and stretches slightly.

his bed shirt life’s from the hem of his sweatpants causing the small trail of hair descending from his bellybutton to be exposed.

“you can go back to sleep if you’d like, i’ll try to be quiet” he says before coming back to the bedside, brushing your baby hairs back from your forehead and kissing just in between your eyebrows.

his sweet gesture makes you cheeks heat which, in turn, makes you feel worse as the added temperature is not what you desire at the moment.

you feel the breeze from the window he must have opened ceres your face as your boyfriend pats your shoulder slightly before you feel a light dip in the bed next to you.

you open your eyes once again to see vinnie and his sparkling eyes next to you with a tray of fruits and vitamins and a cup of herbal tea on it.

you can’t help it as your eyes begin to tear up.

you don’t know whether it’s because you are an emotional person or it’s the illness getting to you but you chose the latter as you wipe your eyes.

“god,im so i’ll” you say to him with a slight laugh at yourself as you push yourself up against the headboard of your bed, many pillow up against it.

“number one, im not god i’m vinnie. number two, yeah, sick with love!” he says laughing at himself but as he sees your stoic face he attempts to stop himself.

it doesn’t work.

you sit there as hera jumps up onto your lap and curls up in between your crossed legs.

you reach down to tickle under her chin as you look back at vinnie.

you pull your lips flat in a line as you hear him muting apologies to himself as he wipes his under eyes.

“vinnie that’s not funny”

“you’re right, you’re right im sorry” he says as it goes to silence.

and then you hear him burst into fits of giggles again as you bite into some of the fruits he has bought you.

“i’m so sorry my love” he says to you as he kisses your forehead yet again and pops out some pills from their foil packets.

“come on, swallow” he says and despite your foul mood, you manage to wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“come on y/n that’s really immature” vinnie says with a straight face.

you huff “seriously?!”

and then the giggles start again…

my requests are back open lovelies and so are my dms so message me <3

#im so sorry this took so long #i love you #love love love you #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker writer #vinnie hacker masterlist

834 notes · View notes

tealeafgrimm · 2 years

Text

Through The Crystal Ball

James Potter x Reader Words: 1.8k Summary: Basically, the four times James asks you out and you turn him down and the fifth time you say yes. Or: James Potter is a seer. A/N: I wish everyone Happy Easter!

If you were to describe James Potter in one word, 'headstrong' would probably fit best. James knew what he wanted and he wouldn't give up until he got it. Or lost interest. Unfortunately, the latter didn't apply to you. Admittedly, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the way he kept trying. But sometimes you wished he would just talk to you normally and ask you. For months, James Potter kept trying and he just wouldn't budge.

It all started in the first class of Divination in your sixth year at school. Why did anyone volunteer for Divination? To be honest, you didn't know either. But it was easy enough to get a good grade and somehow you had to keep the timetable full. Since the time until your graduation was not too long, your teacher had announced that she would repeat all the methods of fortune telling to prepare you for the exams next year .Since none of your friends had chosen Divination any further, you had sat down in the first free seat you could find. Unknowingly sitting at the same table as James Potter. You had nothing against him. He was good looking, funny, but you also knew he could be arrogant. You had never had much contact with him. Hence it was all the more surprising what happened in your first lesson together.

~~~

"Now that you have finished drinking, I ask you to exchange your cup with the person sitting opposite you and interpret the tea leaves," you teacher said as she walked between the closely spaced tables. You looked into your cup one last time. To you it just looked like a brown lump. You hoped James had some imagination in interpreting it and handed him your teacup. His tea leaves, however, did not make it any easier for you to interpret a meaning. Concentrating, you leafed through your book to find a symbol that you could recognise and interpret. "Ah, I think I've got something," James grinned after a few minutes of turning your cup back and forth. Questioningly, you raised your eyebrows and looked at him, waiting. "This one is definitely a flower, which stands for love. And this looks like two people. And...from this I can see that we're going to have a date in Hogsmead on Saturday," James explained as he animatedly pointed at random dots in the cup. Slightly shocked, you looked at him. Was he really serious? Was he going to ask you out like that? "Well Potter, I see bats in your cup and they represent disappointment." "What, why?" He reached for his cup, searching frantically for symbols. "Because my answer is no. And besides, I know there's nothing remotely like a flower or people in my cup." If he'd asked you normally, you might even have agreed, but he wasn't getting anywhere with you with a cheap act like that. You wanted to make sure he was serious and not just making a joke at your expense. But what you didn't realise at that moment was that you had awakened James Potter's ambition.

~~~

The second time he tried it it was a few weeks later. You had gone from reading tea leaves to dream diaries. Dream diaries were definitely your favourite method of divination, because being a dreamless sleeper, you could come up with the best fake stories to present. Of course, that was not the purpose of it, but the main thing for you was that the grade was right. What you didn't count on, however, were the 'dreams' that James supposedly had and which he also easily presented to the whole class including your teacher. And he continued to do so in this lesson as well.

"Mr. Potter, would you be willing to share with us your entry from last night?" "Of course. I'm afraid, however, that my dreams haven't changed very much. It starts with me seeing a blurry person. I don't know exactly where I am, it's somewhere in Hogsmead, but the surroundings are too blurred. The person gets closer and closer and eventually I can make out the face and it's Miss Y/L/N. Then all of a sudden, the surroundings become clearer too and we are in front of Madam Puddifoots. Other students are around us, it's a Hogsmead weekend and Miss Y/L/N and I are on a date. And then my dream stops." You felt a blush come to your face as the other girls giggled to themselves and some of the other boys rolled their eyes.

Did James really have so little dignity for himself. Your teacher, on the other hand, found James' diary entries fascinating and apparently shared his views, as she repeatedly affirmed how expressive it was that his dreams did not change. When she finally moved on from James and his entry and moved on to a girl in the back row, James turned to you with an arrogant smile. "And what do you say to my dreams?" "I wonder if maybe you had a fever? That would explain these illusions you have. My answer is still no. And for your information, I would rather die than spend even one second at Madame Puddifoots."

~~~

After your last rejection, it seemed at first that James had finally let go and had come to terms with your decision. In the weeks that followed, he didn't try to ask you out again and your name didn't appear in his notes and homework. But you had rejoiced too soon. "In the next few lessons, I would like to invest some more time in palm reading, as I know many of you are still struggling here too." Faster than you could look, everyone else had chosen their partners, leaving only James for you. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned mischievously at you as you pushed your chair closer to him.

He held out his hand to you first and you looked back and forth between his hand and your open book. As if James' wide grin wasn't bad enough, your teacher had joined you first to look over your shoulder at your interpretation. "Your lifeline is quite deep, which means you go through life with ease, and you have some ascending branches, which represent positive change. Your head line is quite short. This stands for impulsive action. And it is slightly wavy, so you are creative. Just like your life line, it's very deep, so you have a good memory. And your heart line starts below your index finger, which indicates happy relationships. And it's slightly wavy, which could mean that it's easy for you to show your feelings." You looked at your teacher questioningly, but she just nodded happily and told you to continue. When you had also interpreted the other four lines, she congratulated you on your good performance and went to the next table.

You held out your hand to James and waited patiently for his interpretation of your palm lines. "Okay your life line indicates positive changes in the near future. And your heart line shows that you will soon be in a happy relationship...with a black-haired person. Oh yeah, and this line right here, shows me that you're finally saying yes to a date with me today." Annoyed, you withdrew your hand and looked at James. "Shame on you that you can't read statements like that from hand lines, because my answer is still no," you replied to him and began to write down your answers ignoring him. "I'll get you to say yes yet!"

"If you say so." You had to stifle a smile, because if you were honest, you liked James' attempts. Divination could be one of the most boring subjects, but he made it a little more fun. And yet you still weren't sure if he was really serious.

~~~

"Oh no, I hate card-reading. The last few times I've been told I'm going to die," James groaned as he spied the pack of cards on your table. "Maybe you'll get lucky and get cards that show you that I'm saying yes to a date with you," you replied as you shuffled the cards. "Wait, does that mean you'll go out with me?" You almost had to laugh out loud, he had straightened up in his chair so enthusiastically. "I didn't say that. But maybe the cards will say it?" He chose four cards and you spread them out in front of him.

"Okay, your first card is: the moon. It represents something hidden or suppressed. Your second card is: the jester." "Oh great! Now even the cards are trying to mock me!" "Well, the card is not that inappropriate. It stands for recklessness and carefree lust for life. It also stands for curiosity and sometimes rashness. Then we have: moderation. It symbolises the harmony of patience and last...ohoh...the hermit. You need time alone to find yourself. Well, doesn't seem like a date fits your cards right now," you said and took the cards back to yourself. Horrified, James looked at you, but you just smiled at him. "Maybe next time." A grin spread across James' face now too. Next time he would get it, he was sure of it.

~~~

And so it happened that you also expected James' 'predictions' in today's lesson of Divination. You sat facing each other, one of the large glass spheres standing between you on the table. Crystal balls were by far the most boring subject of the entire class. While you could at least interpret something when reading palms or laying out cards, you had never once seen anything in the sphere in your entire time at school. With your head propped up on your hands, you stared into the glass. James on the other side did the same. After a few minutes, however, James pushed his face closer to the sphere and squinted his eyes in concentration.

"I think...yes definitely...I see something," he said excitedly, straightening up and looking at you. "I see us both in Hogsmead, this Saturday," he continued, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. He'd been trying for months now and you had to admit you admired his determination. And admittedly James Potter WAS cute and by now you were more than sure he meant it with his advances. With feigned shock, you leaned closer to the centre of the table. James watched your movement closely. "You're right, I see it too," you finally replied, looking at him through the orb.

Astonished, James also leaned towards the ball again. "Really? I was just pretending I saw something, I didn't really..." "James? I don't see anything either. But I'm going out with you," you laughed as James tried desperately to see what you had seen. The speed with which James sat up was incredible and you were sure he must have suffered a whiplash. "On one condition." James nodded vehemently, the grin etched on his face. " You' d better not take me to Madam Padifoots, or this will be the first and last time."

#james potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter series #harry potter oneshot #reader insert #one shot #james potter #marauders era #james potter fluff #james fleamont potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #the marauders #harry potter

344 notes · View notes