#this one was much harder to limit in case you were wondering
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Two's company, three's a family - Part one
Summary: As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn't get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn't bring yourself to give them up, not oblivious to the reason.
Pairing: Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).
Masterlist : Here
Warnings: foul language, alcohol use, slow burn, english isn't my first language.
Words : +3k word
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You were mopping around, wondering how the fuck you still hadn't managed to get those two sugar-rotten bird brains to get together ! You ran your hands through your hair and went down to rub your face. You reached for your glass and drank down every last drop.
6,000 bloody years you spent with them, and nothing !
So much work for no true result.
And, just for the record, you wanted to insist that you are really good at your job.
No, you weren't bragging; you really were ! A lot of cupids were cruel little things, and it had to do with the fact that you feed on the love a person feels for another. And since it didn't have to be reciprocated, most preferred to work less—well, smarter—rather than harder. But you just loved love stories. Of any kind, really ! Motherly, fatherly, between siblings, friends... Nevertheless, being able to form a perfect match and seeing the joy you brought to others always filled you with joy.
A cupid is just a specific type of angel meant to spread love all over the world. Which included humans, animals, and supernatural beings such as demons and angels. However, your peers weren't your favourites. They were too focused on their jobs, being either neutral towards each other or straight-up hateful. And hate tasted too bitter to your liking.
Which was probably the reason why you were so interested in Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship to begin with. They were so friendly and caring that something inside you just clicked. Even if their love story was the slowest burn you ever encountered, you couldn't bring yourself to give up.
Hell no ! Mmh, no. You were too stubborn to accept your failure. Yes, failure. Because despite spending every moment with them (well, when they were together) and using so many arrows, those two just wouldn't come together ! And to make sure your bow and arrows worked, you almost paired up every goddamn duck at St. James Park.
Nothing worked ! Nothing !
Ugh, so annoying...
In your case, the only connection you seem to have in this vast universe is with the pub and your drink... And to the generations of barmen you complained to.
"How can someone be so oblivious ?" Your drunken words slipping out of your mouth without anyone to talk to.
"Tell me about it." A voice said next to you.
Oh, you recognised the voice alright; you just didn't feel like engaging in a conversation with anyone right now. Still, you were polite enough to acknowledge their presence.
"Hi Mihael." You mumbled.
"Good evening to you too, Y/N !" She chirped, her voice too positive for you to appreciate right now. You groaned and rested your head on your arms.
"What do you want ? It's not your type to be staying down there once your shift's over," you said before looking up at her.
Her dark pink eyes were scanning the pub warily. You rolled your eyes, her attitude reminding you how atypical you've become. Being among humans, eating food, or even walking on earth was something Cupid didn't do. Flying around was the most common attitude, as was having really limited contact with humans, or "clients," as Archangel Chamuel calls them. But you loved your time on earth with every creature, though eating ex-living animals isn't your thing. And being a freak was actually something you were doomed to be. You knew you were different from other mystical beings, and it was really fucking lonely.
"You're right ; I don't know how you can stand all the smells and, ugh, sensations." She shuddered.
You sighed, waiting as patiently as you could in that moment.
"But I guess you should enjoy as much as you can while you can."
What ? Why would she say that ? Did you do something wrong ? Did they realize you... No. And they never noticed that you spent your time with a demon (angels were obliviously okay) and tried to match up said demon with Aziraphale. Did they finally catch up ? Or were they upset that you mostly lived with humans ? No, you are almost the best cupid, producing so much love, as proved by how many ducks you shot.
"M-Mh.. sure.. but, mmh.. I didn't know my time on earth was on a timer." You tried to joke lightly, which was heavily ineffective in calming your nerves.
"Of course not silly," she beamed. "Armageddon is coming !"
"Wha-" you sat up, almost tumbleling down. "Already ? Are you sure ?"
"Affirmative ! The anti-Christ is being delivered as we speak."
"Oh, great..."
You just wanted to cry right here and now, but you really couldn't afford to. It would be crossing a line.
It wasn't fair. You still had so much to experience on earth and so many love stories to create, and you wanted to spend so much more time with Crowley and Aziraphale. They still needed to be together ! You couldn't let the End begin before you even saw the beginning of their love story. No, uh-hu! You will go down with this ship!
"How long before Armageddon ?" you asked.
"Oh, I would say around ten years."
Alright, you could do it. You just had to help two opposite beings, who spend almost all their existence together without technically being a couple, become one. Because how thing should be. And you had ten years to do so, even if you hadn't succeeded in the last 6,000 years. It could work ! You knew them and their love for humankind and their world. They would certainly team up to prevent the war and apocalypse from happening. And you were there to help. In every way. You scratched your itchy right arm.
"Right, sure... well, thanks, Mihael. Send my regards to Adriel."
"I will, thank you ! Oh, and Chamuel ordered that we lay off all the workers during the last week before the war, so we could be ready to fight."
"Mmh-hm." You nodded. Alcohol was messing up your communication skills.
"Great ! See you at the war."
When you turned, she was gone, leaving you wondering how you'd end up like this.
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(4004 av-JC)
In the beginning, you were in the Garden of Eden. You were here to supervise Adam and Eve's love development; you didn't shoot the arrow, though. They would have never let you do it anyway. Actually, every creature in the Garden had been paired up, but you didn't get the chance to create any of them. As disappointed as you were, you were not the type to overstep and you couldn't express anything. So you decided to be patient and walk around the garden discretely.
You suddenly came to a stop when you spotted something unusual slithering around the diversity of plants. You walked up to a 'lilac' tree, which looked more like a bush than anything else, and you saw an animal that was crawling on the trunk among the beautiful purple flowers. The creature was so long yet flexible that it didn't have any problem staying on such a small platform. His colours intrigued you too—mostly black with touches of red—and you had never seen anything like this quite yet. Your eyes widen, and you slightly rush to observe it further. The snake, while taken aback, didn't move and instead glared at you. His eyes were so beautiful and golden, and his scales were spotless and sleek, but touching the poor thing would certainly scare him away.
"What a beautiful thing you are... I'm glad God decided to make you !"
The creature started to retreat as soon as your words passed your lips, looking flustered. Declining his embarrassment, you chirped hapily. And with a glimmering smile, you resumed roaming around the paradise.
The wall was growing bigger and bigger as I approached one of the gates of Eden, curious to see the border and maybe get a peek on the other side—a glimpse of the barren and dry land. You were an inquisitive thing; your curiosity was way stronger than your fear. Despite anyone says or believe. But as you gently approached the door, someone called you.
"Mh, excuse me ! Little cupid ?"
Oh ! You weren't that small ! Pff, guardian angels could be so strict sometimes.
You rolled your eyes, soared up in the sky, and let yourself turn upside down to see who was interrupting your investigation.
"Yes ?" you sighed. "Mh !"
You weren't acquainted with lots of angels outside your group, but you were sure that you had already seen him before. His appearance was so welcoming, despite the raging, flaming sword that carefully remained in his firm grip. His hair was white and as fluffy as a cloud. You couldn't quite grasp his eye colour, though, which was always changing between blue, brown, and green. His human body was round and large, a body type you'd never seen before. Yet you smiled at his soft appearance. His tunic seemed to be slightly covered with bright purple petals here and there. You turned over, lying on your stomach in midair, looking at him expectantly.
"Hello." He smiled, then took a ragged breath, looking for words. "Mh, I'm afraid I must request that you not go closer to that gate."
You looked away, apologetic.
"Oh, I see... Sorry."
You were conscious of how leaving your station could get you in trouble, and being so close to the door could bring him problems as well. You sensed how agitated he was and went on to leave him in peace.
"Well, mh, good luck with, huh, guarding the door," you said, trying to look less churlish than the way you acted merely seconds ago.
"Oh well, that's kind of you." He smiled, touched by your words. "Good luck with all the love."
Seeing how thrilled he seemed made you happy. Your body was taken over by the intense emotion in your heart, and you began to fly while looping and spinning vigorously.
Suddenly, you stopped. You've never experienced anything like it. Your primary role as a cupid was to make matches between creatures by shooting them with arrows. Your vision allowed you to perceive the chances of happiness and love each creature could produce while bound by the other. There were hundreds of possibilities, and your job is to make sure your "client" finds the perfect match. In order to do so, you had to be able to identify each emotion with clarity and precision. Minimising your own emotions to work in the most efficient way possible Thus, you shouldn't feel too much emotion despite the satisfaction of your good job and all the love you could eat. And in your case, anything...
Feeling such a rush of emotion shouldn't be something you're capable of doing. You shouldn’t be feeling anything. You observed your right hand, confused and visibly shaking. Closing your eyes, feeling irrated at yourself, you marched back to where you came, hoping to find new animals to shoot to occupy your mind.
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Adam and Eve were gone. Apparently, a snake—well, a demon—tempted the first human, and now they had to leave the garden. Just because they wanted answers to their questions. Needless to say, you weren't very keen to try and look beyond the wall without permission.
So you were simply floating in the air right next to the wall, waiting for an order from your Boss. Gazing up at the sky, you noticed how its blue colour darkened as the first rain approached. You sighed and decided to just go back to Heaven, hoping you'd finally get the chance to shoot at someone. Some may call you obsessive; you prefer the term persistent.
As you were sitting up and flying up. And the moment you saw the tall structure disappearing in the corner of your eye, you kept going up. But, afraid you might regret not gazing back, you dared to dart your eyes down to the rest of the world.
"Huh?" you softly gasped.
You saw the desert spreading from your heart to the horizon, arid and lonely, with the clouds darkening the land. Your heart ached as you watched what lay ahead. And as you felt your eyes water, you lowered your gaze. And the sight that welcomed me was so out of this world yet felt so... right.
An angel and a demon stood next to each other, talking and fraternising. You didn't really fight the war, but you knew how both sides hated each other. The metallic taste was already way too familiar in your mouth. But the premise of their relationship already smelled so sweet, despite a wisp of sourness.
A wave of euphoria struck you in the most unexpected way, and the sensations it brought you were simply too delightful to feel queer. You saw their bound, so precise and distinct, that you nearly thought you were a part of it. It just felt so real. So good.
You were so excited ! You beamed with all your might as you desperately tried to manifest your bow and arrows as quickly as possible.
As a novice in archery, you wanted to correctly seal the bound, so you decided to place three arrows because, like no one has said yet, "Three times' the charm". You aimed leisurely, breathing deeply and checking the quality of your multi-coloured arrows. The grey head of it is silently hurrying you to shoot.
And so you did. With a faint whistle, the arrows raced towards their target. The first one landed right in the back of the demon, on his left side. The second was pierced lower, in the calf of the angel. It didn't even hurt them; it was a great shot, really.
You retracted your arm, proud of yourself.
Then, you simply went straight back to Heaven. Still, the sky looked so dark, and the rain started to pour down on your cheeks.
And you don’t know why, but a profound need to seek comfort made you look down one last time. The guardian had stretched out his wing for the demon to hide under. So thoughtful, so caring, so warm...
You left after your first match was a success.
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(Present days)
You later learned that matching an angel and a demon was strictly forbidden. You blushed at the thought, embarrassed. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to abandon the relationship. Well, now you had to be super efficient if you wanted that ship to sail at all.
You drank down your last glass of your favourite alcohol, paid for your decent amount of beverages, and wobbled yourself towards the Aziraphale bookshop.
You weren't always invisible when you dealt with them; you gave yourself plenty of time with them along the way. They were aware that you were an angel, just not the exact type. You don't think they mind your company, but you prefer to limit your interactions.
However, you were running out of time, and you really didn't want to miss a thing. You hummed the song that sneaked into your head on your way. Once you arrived in front of the door, you tried to stabilise yourself by resting your whole weight on it. And you tumbled down into the shop. In your defence, the door was always closed !
Aziraphale and Crowley both looked towards you, shocked. Well, Crowley was more amused than anything. You rasped into the carpet and pivoted your head to greet them profusely.
"Hellooo !" you exclaimed, your tone drowsy.
"Y/N ? Why, dear, what are you doing here ?" Aziraphale promptly came to your side, helping you up.
"On the floor ? Well, I obviously just fell," you jested. You felt weightless as Crowley joined you two to carry you somewhere other than the dusty floor.
"So, you heard about the End of the world, I presume?" Crowley asked. They both let you down slowly on your assigned divan. You felt a hand brush a lock of hair out of your eye.
"Mmh." You rolled on your side to face them as they sat down on the opposite side. You'll have to work on that too.
"Yeah, someone mentioned it..." you waved. A few moments passed in silence. You guffawed when you noticed the bottle settled on the table.
"Sorry, it seems I had a bit of a head start, but go on!" You laid down on your back. "I'll wait for you to catch up"
Aziraphale shot a slight disapproving look in your direction, pouting a little, while Crowley reached eagerly for the bottle.
"Don't mind if I do," he said as he poured himself a large drink.
Shortly after, the angel followed you two. Alright, setting up the mood... This silly matter is going to be settled in a matter of hours now! You were perfectly capable of doing so. Aziraphale raised his glass to you, and you flashed your teeth. They don't know what's going their way.
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And they didn't, because your smartass decided to evacuate all the liquor from your body by sleeping.
Now, as you wake up, they're talking about dolphins. Oh, sure, what adorable and romantic sociopaths they are. It's obviously the best choice of conversation !
"Everything will just turn into bouillaba-bouil... bouilla..."
You sat up, pushing away a blanket, and listened to those dorks trying to pronounce bloody "Boui-...llabai...." Well, that dish !
"Fish stew," you concluded.
"Anyway," Crowley said with a weary tone. "It's not their fault. And that's the same with gorillas! They'll say : 'Woop, the sky's gone red! Stars crashing down ! What do they put in bananas these days ?!'" His drunkenness struck you, and you realised what Armagadon really meant.
"All the creatures..." you started.
"Whether they'd be great or small..." Aziraphale ended.
You both looked distraught. You loved all those little things; you spent countless hours discovering every one of them. The first time you saw a whale, you got so emotional that you cried. Thankfully, you were underwater, so Aziraphale, who came with you that day, didn't see your unusual sensitivity.
"And there's worse ! When it's all over, we're going to have to deal with eternity !" he yelled, his voice squeaking like that of a chipmunk.
"Eternity ?" Aziraphale wondered, disoriented. He didn't quite understand why on earth Eternity would be worse than the End itself.
"You're just upset you won't be able to listen to musicals, while we will," you teased.
"And you'll miss my very constructive critics, especially on The Phantom Of The Opera !"
"You utterly roasted it !"
You were ready to argue your arse off, but Aziraphale had his own things to say.
"I don't like it more than you do. I can't disobey... I've got to do what I'm told... right Y/N ?" He asked for your support.
"Mmh nh.. Yes, sure, but I don't think they pay attention to these sorts of things." You suddenly gagged. You weren't sure that giving back the liquor to the bartender was such an idea, but you couldn't afford to throw up.
"Maybe we should sober up."
They both agreed and quickly got sober.
"Listen, even if I wanted to help you, we just can't." Aziraphale explained while glancing at you, once again to encourage him.
"It's true, Crowley, we're angels. We cannot interfere with God's plan," you said, lying back on the couch.
"But what about Satan's plan, mh ?" His red hair framed his head, and your eyes focused on his, snake-like and wide. His whole face was encouraging you to listen further.
"It's your job, right ? Thwarting the demonic plan. Encouraging humans to be "good", mmh ?"
"No need to quote..." you sulked.
"That's broadly what we do, indeed." Aziraphale conceeded.
"With that in mind, it would be totally reasonable for you to act on the birth of the Anti-Christ. To thwart my demonic influence on the child while he grows up. I'm the only one managing his evil upbringing. Against two angels with such pure hearts, I would highly struggle to stand my ground."
Wait up, two angels ? Uh, you were getting way too involved for the two of them to easily seal the deal. You needed a way out. Aziraphale was considering the idea, giving you enough time to hastily prepare a counterargument.
"M-mh, so much good energy would change the boy too much. Everyone will realise it. I think it's too much of a risk. No, it would be best if the two of you took care of him. You know, like, uh, godfathers !"
The pleased and hopeful look on the fluffy angel's face caused you to sigh in relief. Crowley, however, was frowning. You just grinned, gathering all your charm to erase any suspicion.
"Still, he's made to be evil; surely the influence of two angels wouldn't hurt."
Think of something. You had to get those two together !
"I'll be your safety net ! Assuring the Heavens that Aziraphale is doing an excellent job !" You gestured towards him, nervous and frantic. The angel flinched slightly but didn't say anything. You nodded and smiled before turning to Crowley.
"And ! I'll mess with other people's demon jobs ! Giving them plenty of things to keep their minds off the Anti-Christ's childhood." You clapped your hands and tied your lips together, praying it would be enough.
The demon was scanning your face, taking in what you just said and your attitude. Aziraphale then faced his friend and supported your plan by taking a place beside you.
"It would be safer and less noticeable." He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him. When he noticed, he smiled in his reassuring way.
Meanwhile, Crowley had closed his eyes tightly, exhaling more air than normal humans actually had in their bodies. The dude's a balloon, apparently. His eyelids opened abruptly, and he offered his response.
"Ngh... fine."
Yay, victory.
"I can't believe I have to convince you to agree to a plan you created," you teased him.
"Er."
"It might work !" said Aziraphale happily. You hoped everything would go smoothly and that you could prevent the Earth from boiling, causing the destruction of either Hell or Heaven. You felt the angel almost wriggle next to you, and the demon smirked his way. Maybe it would be easier than you thought.
"Well, I'll be damned !" he exclaimed quietly. His brighting up the room.
"It's not so bad when you get used to it," Crowley answered mischievously.
And there it is. Hardships. Aziraphale lost his smile and looked at him with a warning. It really stuck in his craw.
"Crowley, don't they say thingz like that !" he scolded vigoursly.
"It's just a joke; don't make a big deal out of it." Crowley finally sat back, waving off Aziraphale's arguments. The angel took a step towards Crowley, standing in front of you. While he continued his rambling, the red head peeked your way and winked, obviously amused.
You rubbed your face with your hand but grinned as well. Easy ? Yeah, right.
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This is the first chapter of this series : "Two’s company, three’s a family"
I hope you enjoyed it and will stay around to see how all of this will play out.
Bye !
Parts : Next
#good omens#good omens s2#crowley x aziraphale#crowley x reader x aziraphale#aziraphale x reader#crowley x reader#polyamory#david tennant#neil gaiman#micheal sheen#ineffable husbands#lgbtq#twoscompanythreesafamily
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hi so uh could I request a really short (like less than 1000 words) blurb for Peter of him just comforting reader with physical affection cause she's having a depressive episode please (I really need a hug omfg)
i’m at work but i really think you needed this, call it a gut feeling.
peter’s love language is physical touch to the max.
he needs a hand on you at all times, riding in the car? hand on your thigh, if you’re sitting behind him, his hand is wrapped around your ankle. watching a movie? you’ll be tucked into his side, or he’s resting his head on your chest, at the very least your legs are tugged over his lap so he has something to run his hands over. out at dinner? he’s holding your hand across the table almost the entire time, unfortunately you make him give it back when the food arrives. eating out with friends? his favorite, because then he has a reason to sit in the booth next to you and there’s nowhere that’s off limits. hands on your thighs, knees, hands, elbow, neck, face, anywhere he deemed necessary for his touch.
most times you push him off, and he doesn’t take it offensively because even he can admit when he’s being a little too much. there’s only so much you can take of being trapped under his arm in new york summer weather before you shake him off and tell him not to touch you for ten minutes because you’re about to scream. or when you’re out at dinner with friends because he really does have wondering hands, you can see when it’s getting a little much so you have to take his hand and rest it on the table with a pat or grip it in yours so tightly it’s sent into rigor mortis.
there is one time you don’t push him away, when he doesn’t think it’s possible slump into him further, the one time he truly can’t tell where you start and he stops.
he just wishes you weren’t so sad when you needed him like that.
peter thinks you fell asleep on him and he doesn’t mind one bit, sometime after finding you buried under your covers. which he knows is your hiding spot when things just get a little too rough. you’re good most times, but every once in a while you forget how special you are, and he knows when you don’t respond to his texts or snapchats or don’t show up to school.
you didn’t text him much last night and he figured you were tired or sleeping early, then you weren’t at school this morning and he would’ve thought you were feeling sick until it hit ten thirty and you haven’t responded to anything in over twelve hours. his suspicions were confirmed, you were sick, but not with a bug or virus.
peter did the only thing he could think to do, not that you’d believe him in that moment anyways, and sends you three words.
I love you.
if you were to only look at one message from him he wants it to be that, so he doesn’t send anything else for the rest of the school day.
he went straight to your place and let himself in, heading for your door where he knows you’ll be collapsed in bed and have to fight his own upset that you haven’t ate or drank water today because it’s the wrong thing at the wrong time.
sometimes he doesn’t like being right, seeing you swallowed in blankets, facing the wall with your eyes shut, he sees tear marks and doesn’t have to ask, he stopped asking months ago, it was always the same answer.
“why are you crying, hm?” he’d brush your hair away so it doesn’t stick.
and you’d sniffle and blink more tears to fall and whine, “i don’t know, it just has nowhere to go.”
“what has nowhere to go?”
you’d cry harder, “the sadness.”
sometimes there was no good reason to be so sad and it makes it worse, like you needed to justify how sad you felt.
peter took in the darkness, you pinned blankets over your windows, it was as black as you felt. he doesn’t even think you’re sleeping, just… dreading your existence.
in case you don’t know he’s in here he speaks soft and slow so he doesn’t scare you, also because cheerful doesn’t really fit the mood.
“hey, trouble. feelin’ okay?”
he knows you’re not okay, okay. but it’s not about being fine, it’s about checking in with each other because you’d swore you’d tell him if it ever wasn’t okay.
peter can’t hear you, he puts his knees on the bed and shuffles towards your back. “what’s that, mumbles?”
your fingers claw at the blanket around your mouth, “‘m okay.”
peter is the fixer, he fixes everything, you even call him your little engineer. but this is one thing he can’t and never will be able to fix but he’ll gladly hold your hand and cheer you on from the side while you fix yourself.
“wanna hug?”
and you don’t know why these cuddles, these touches, these actions of love that feel the most warming and comforting to you. he always loves you, that’s his thing, but when it’s times like these when you’re so emotionally raw and vulnerable you want to curl up and hide, peter embreases it and doesn’t tell you to hide it, it’s human and he’s happy you trust him enough to see that side and he’ll never take it for granted.
you nod, peter scoots enough to pull at your hip and pull you on your back, he’s looking down at you and doesn’t take offense when you look away.
“wanna be on top?”
sometimes you wanted peter to crush you with his weight, he used to hold back because he didn’t want to actually hurt you until one night you called him out, “peter, please I just need to feel… i don’t know.” so he let himself settle all the way down on your chest and heard how your breath caught, you gripped at his shoulder when he tried to move back up, you gasped it but you needed it, needed it for a few minutes.
“thank you, just… please stay here.”
that’s when it was really bad, you needed him to drown out the whole world, the thoughts, the insults, anything that wasn’t screaming at your brain for breath, and when he moves that first real gulp of air feels like heaven and even if it’s for one second you have two things to be grateful for.
most times, you crawled high into his lap and looped your arms around him so tight he felt like he couldn’t breathe, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, sometimes you’d dot kisses, sometimes you’d cry, and sometimes he feels nothing but eyelashes every few minutes as you blink and shut them, each attempt of opening them like, ‘you ready yet? no? alright.’
or nights like tonight, when you curl around him and doze off because you had a night where instead of sleeping for fourteen hours you stayed up blinking at the wall.
and because if you’d learned anything about his love language, he wouldn’t let go until you asked.
#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker blurb#peter parker fluff#tasm!peter one shot#tasm!peter fluff#my writing
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Mother Knows Best
Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader
Warnings: (angst, fucked up family dynamic)
A/N: This is the dress I had in mind in case my description doesn't do it justice. All credit to the artist here. and hair inspo (top right). Also I'm not sure why I keep writing that Blaise hates yellow but it feels right, idk.
Summary: With your parents abhorrent views you doubt they could choose a decent partner.
Word Count: 5.6k
The wizarding community was small which meant that Hogwarts was even smaller. Thankfully you had been able to slip under the radar, which in hindsight was easy since your classmate was Harry Potter. Either way, people wrote you off as timid and boring but the truth was far worse.
Growing up everything seemed fine you came from a prestigious family that was more than respected. With that came expectations as you were told but understood, you made sure your magic was comparable to no one. You had practiced so much that there were cramps in your hand and wrist regularly. However, the expectations that your parents meant were far more nefarious than being a prefect.
For your sorting ceremony, you had come from a family of Ravenclaw’s and Slytherin’s so when the hat called out Hufflepuff it seemed a slight pause was taken. There wasn’t explicit disappointment written on your father’s face but you knew what he would have preferred. But in his words at least you weren’t Gryffindor.
Motivation thrummed through your body to make up for less than adequate house. You’d managed to become quite knowledgeable on many subjects, even things as taboo as muggle studies. You’d never dared to take the class but had read a few books out of morbid curiosity. There was never anything explicitly anti-muggle spoken about in your household but deep down you knew better. The kind of family you were born into would never be outspoken about that sort of thing, it’s unbecoming in your mother’s words.
After the death of Cedric Diggory, more talks of he who shall not be named permeated the community. Some believed it was an unexplainable tragedy while others were in complete denial. Not only were you disgusted by what they did to him you also felt sad for Harry, it was crystal clear what happened. Your parents on the other hand seemed unaffected, that should have been the first sign but you were too busy giving condolences to Harry.
Next was the stream of people they contacted in the coming months. At first, none of them rang any alarm bells but more and more suspected Death Eaters would permeate your childhood home. A small riff formed between your parents and you, the seemingly loving people who raised you held such nasty views. Visits to your childhood home soon became limited to mandatory holidays under the guise of you studying for your O.W.L.s.
Soon enough you could see exactly where they stood and it terrified you. There wasn’t anyone you could turn to without fearing it would get back to your parents.
……..
On your scheduled visit home you were indifferent to finding certain members of the Ministry leaving your parent's home. However, as your father stood before you in the foyer expectantly you couldn’t help but wonder why. Usually, it would just be your mother receiving you due to the constant stream of ‘meetings’ your father held. No words were exchanged between you two before he gestured for you to follow him to his office.
The once warm memories that this house provided now gave way to shivers down your spine. It felt like the closer you were to approaching his office the harder your heart thundered in your chest. Uneasiness settles within you because of your father’s seemingly cold nature.
Inside his office, he gestured to the seat across from his chair and your heart sank. Although you didn’t feel at home anymore, you didn’t have the heart to fully distance yourself. For so long all of your work was due to upholding the family name and reputation and if you let that go there was nothing else. Your mother gave nothing away while she stood off to the side.
“As you know darling a war is brewing, and now is the time that our Dark Lord needs his loyal correspondents.” His hands on your shoulders send a cold shiver over you. “And it worries me that my daughter seems to sympathize with mudbloods.” Even though you couldn’t see his face you could only picture the defeat on his face.
“I-” Before you could attempt to defend yourself you were interrupted.
“I thought I had made my expectations for you obvious child.” Your father’s fingers dug into you causing a grimance across your face. “Only for you to embarrass me after I put all of my hopes and dreams into you.” Tears well in your eyes from the pain of both his words and his harsh grip.
“Have I not given you everything?” In spite of how you’ve felt about his purist ways, his words cause you to scramble to reassure him. After all, you didn’t put in as much work as you had to disappoint him.
“You have and I-” The words become stuck in your throat because of how much you are trying to say at once. “I’m so sorry.” Shame has your head hanging low while your tears wet your pants. “I saw Cedric as a friend and I let my judgment get clouded.” Sobs wrack your body and your father lets his death grip go to comfort you.
“It’s okay darling sometimes we become a little misguided. As long as we find our way back that’s all that matters.” The same hands that caused your breakdown are now nursing you back with slow circles. Your breathing begins to even out and your father takes that as his cue to continue with what this meeting is really about.
“Now that we’ve taken care of that, I wanted to talk about what we are gathered here for.” His hands clap together in what you assume is excitement, and a glance at your now-smiling mother confirms it. “Tonight we are celebrating your impending nuptials.”
Never has your head swiveled so quickly, you weren't privy to any marriage conversations. As far as you knew you weren’t promised to anyone but you knew better than to question anything in this moment. From the corner of your eye, you see your mother leave the room and the thundering in your heart amps up once again.
“And what better family to be joined with than the Zabini’s?” Your mother is the one to drop the name of your future husband as she glides into the office again. Behind her, you see the infamous Zabini’s. Everyone is familiar with the Zabini’s, more specifically the rumored black widow Domenica Zabini. Her track record of 7 dead husbands speaks for itself. There was nothing short of perfection about their appearance, not that you expected less.
The joy on your mother’s face feels like you’re in an alternate universe, one that involves a happy family. Somehow you didn’t see the gilded cage that had slowly been closing until it was too late. If there was food in your stomach it would have been thrown up by now.
“Don’t play coy darling, they’ve come all this way to meet you.” As if your breakdown didn’t just happen your mother ushers you out of the seat before urging you closer. “This will be good for you, for us.” The low tone of her voice leaves no room for opposition.
Domencia’s keen eyes take you in and you almost can’t believe this woman killed her husbands. There’s nothing overtly cunning or evil-looking about her presence as one would think. Her son, on the other hand, had a menacing demeanor for someone who you’d never heard utter a word. Since Hogwarts was small his best friends Theo and Draco more than made up for his silence.
His brown eyes are calculated while he takes you in and your heart betrays you by skipping a beat.
“You’re even more breathtaking in person.” Were the first words you ever heard him speak and you hated to admit how your whole body fluttered. The low register of his voice made it feel like only the two of you were in the room despite your parents lurking off into the corner.
“So the mythical Blaise does speak?” You keep your voice low like his.
“Considering you are my future wife I’d say it’s imperative.” And just like that the reality of your future comes crashing back to you.
Blaise gently grabs your hand and brings it to his lips before running his thumb across your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours and you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to disarm you. Either way, you remember to keep your guard up around him.
“Is there anywhere for us to talk, privately?” Although you doubt your parents can hear you he still goes the extra mile to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Your eyes dart around the room in an attempt to get out of the situation you’ve landed in.
“Afraid you’ll actually come to like me, sweetheart?” Blaise, as observant of ever, notices your hesitation to him despite his very convincing charm.
“No.” Even you weren’t convinced by your answer however, you refused to give him the satisfaction.
An amused smirk plays on his face and he finds himself more than pleased with this arrangement. The air between you was thick with undeniable tension.
“You know,” Your mother places her hands on your shoulders gently but that doesn’t stop the small wince on your face, “You should show Blaise around the grounds since he’ll be around a lot.”
“That would be lovely.” His award-winning smile splits his face in agreeance with your mother.
Seeing no way out of this you tell him, “Stay close to me.”
Many would say that your familial land is almost as grand as Hogwarts, but that only applies if you enjoy greenery. The house is incomparable to the vast amounts of land you can explore and observe. Your mother favored her garden and maze, so much so that the familial home was inconsequential to the lands she demanded.
“I take it you weren’t as up-to-date as your parents led me to believe?” Now that you two were truly alone Blaise saw no need to hold back.
“I wasn’t but I can’t say I’m completely upset with their choice.” The truth is they went far beyond your expectations.
“So I still have a chance?” He pulls back before the two of you are more than a couple feet from the house. “I must plead my case.” His general nature gives you pause, you’ve never met someone so magnetic.
“And what exactly is your case?” Your curiosity gets the better of you.
“We could make this a long engagement, I don’t mind a wait. Frankly, I enjoy your presence and I wouldn’t mind growing from that.” His hands reach for yours, and somehow it doesn’t seem desperate.
“You’re making this feel so easy.” As much as you wanted to reject any man sent your way through your parents, Blaise was different. Not to mention you weren’t in a position to bargain.
“I don’t want to force you, but I will promise absolute devotion.” This time when he kisses your knuckles there’s no prying eyes, making the moment much more remarkable.
Truth be told above all else you wanted someone exactly like Blaise, but your parent's involvement sort of ruined the moment. Emotionally you were still reeling from your father’s outburst, and you know it won’t be the last. If you could keep him off your back with this there would be less pressure surrounding any future mistake.
But that does peg the question of how you’ll fare should this relationship get serious. Would you be the first of many wives for Blaise? The thought sent a chill down your spine and there’s no way you could outright ask. For the time being you decide being a team player is most important and string Blaise along until he tires of you.
“I would love nothing more.” Maybe you laid it on a little thick but Blaise doesn’t seem to notice or care.
………….
With news of you and Blaise’s engagement spreading amongst the parents, you knew it wouldn’t take long for the gossip mill at Hogwarts to circulate. By the time you return from your visit whispers follow you through the corridor.
“So you wanna tell me why everyone is talking about your engagement to Blaise?” Madeline, your closest friend, saddles up next to you as you barrel down the hall.
You slow down your fast pace to pull her into an empty classroom. “I knew my Father held some anti-muggle ideals but now he’s talking about doing the Dark Lord’s bidding. I went home this weekend to find out they had me betrothed to Blaise Zabini.” Your hands find their way to your face in an effort to rub the emotional distress out. “Not to mention he completely freaked out on me for expressing my sympathies for Harry. Mads I’ve never seen him like that, it scared me.”
“Godric,” She made her way to stand beside you before rubbing your back in gentle circles. Madeline was first assigned as one of your dormmates, she took it upon herself to adopt you. She'd seen first-hand the immense pressure your parents put on you, and in turn the pressure you placed on yourself. “You know you’re always welcome around mine?”
Although you did know that it would only prolong the inevitable with your parents. Nevertheless, you thank her and rest your head on her shoulder.
“The worst part is the fact that I don't completely hate Blaise, I mean he would be perfect if my parents hadn’t been the ones to arrange it. Now it feels tainted you know?” Your eyes are glued to the floor while you pour out everything you’d had to hold in this past weekend.
“Of course, not to mention his mother has an interesting romantic history.” You are glad that you’re not the only one who noticed.
“But he’s so gorgeous.” You tilt your head away from your best friend with a whimsical sigh.
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Her agreeance has you craning your neck to blink in surprise at her.
“Not too much, he’s still my fiance.” Playfully you narrow your eyes at Mads before bursting into laughter with her joining you.
With your spirits back up the both of you head back into the hall and make your way to the grand hall. Studying would help in taking your mind off of everything else, somehow it was relaxing. The table was decorated with textbooks as you and Madeline delved into your academics.
“You look even more radiant when you’re focused.” That low drawl had your head quickly swiveling to meet Blaise’s eyes in surprise.
“There’s a lot I need to stay up to date on.” Your answer must have been enough for him to take a seat next to you. But you don’t let his presence deter you from your agenda. Madeline squirms in her seat across from you to get your attention only to give you a knowing look.
“I’m sure there is,” He lets his eyes fall over your form, and warmth spreads throughout your body at his brazenness. He clears his throat before continuing, “ My mother’s hosting a party next weekend and I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of being my date?”
From the corner of your eye, you could feel Madeline’s widened eyes taking in this conversation. You’re not sure why you expected Blaise to ignore you once you returned to Hogwarts, but strangely you’re pleased he didn’t. Finally, you set your quill down to properly address him.
“I would love that,” You school your features to not look as giddy as you feel. “Any specific dress code requirements?”
“If you don’t mind I got your measurements from your mother and had a dress commissioned.” He had the gall to look sheepish.
“And what if I find the dress ugly? What if I had said no?” The questions fly out one after the other.
“Your mother promised me you had no shortage of beautiful gowns, and if you had said no I would have found another way to gift it to you.” His eyes peer down at you while you bashfully glance towards Madeline. Once he leaves you know you’ll never hear the end of this.
“Well thank you,” For once you are truly rendered speechless and there is no other feeling more embarrassing.
Blaise, as observant as ever, senses the end of the conversation and readies himself to leave. Before he completely takes off he places a folded piece of paper in your palm and closes it. When his back faces you you let your eyes wander after him with a stupid smile splitting your face. You realize too late that once he reaches his table his friends have already caught you grinning like an idiot. They proceed to clap him on the back and you quickly face Mads only to be met with a teasing grin.
You resign yourself to laying your head on the table until the smile on your face calms down. When you unfold the piece of paper you find a rough draft of a fluffy green gown. His penmanship impressed you but his eye for detail on the various layers of dresses solidified your opinion.
…………
The box holding the dress Blaise commissioned is sitting on the ottoman by the foot of your bed. It was a deep emerald green with a light green bow wrapping around it. Your mother delivered it with a bright smile as soon as it arrived in the morning. She was adamant about opening it but you wanted to wait, even if the anticipation was killing you too.
Your parents were attending as well but they had been rather agreeable lately. Just as you assumed once you showed interest in being with Blaise they seemingly backed off. The last thing you want is a repeat of what happened.
With the sun setting you begin taking down your hair, and the curls bounce as you rub oil on them. You deliberately save the front braids for last while you finish individually placing each curl. The front of your hair is parted to the right side, and you begin gathering half into a small ponytail. You decide to leave a small piece of hair out from the right side that is curled away from your face.
A smile graces your face at the finished product and you turn to the box that’s been calling to you all day. The note attached to the bow was the first thing you read.
I hope the dress is up to your standards -B.Z.
You place the note on your bed and untie the bow before lifting the top. A lavish hunter-green bustier greets you, before fully pulling it out you take note of the silver and black jewels lining the entire top. You carefully grab the strapless top to pull it out of the box and a gasp involuntarily leaves your mouth at the mass of the dress.
Flowers made of sheer fabric litter the waist and sage green fabric lines the sides of the dress. Layers of tulle overlap with leafy designs that feature silver accents. You had never seen a dress as beautiful as the one in front of you, Blaise clearly had an eye for fashion. The drawing he gave didn’t do the dress enough justice.
Progressively you place the dress on the floor and step into it. Perfect is the only word to describe it as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Even in low light, the jewels sparkle enticingly and you note that he used his house color on you. You do a spin before heading to your jewelry box, only to find that you missed a matching necklace and earring set at the bottom. The dangly earrings remind you of snowflakes and the necklace matches the gems atop your dress.
“Please tell me you’re rea-” Your mother bustles into your room but pauses mid-sentence at you. “My, you look stunning.” She slowly circles you before noting the jewelry in your hand and she gestures for you to face the mirror. She delicately takes out your stud earrings and replaces them with the one Blaise gifted you. When she reaches into the box for the necklace a gasp, much like your earlier one, leaves her red-tinted lips.
“When he asked me about your measurements I never expected this.” She circles her arms over your head to gingerly lay the necklace over your sternum. Her polished nails circle your shoulders for a gentle squeeze, “Let's finish up before your father storms in here.”
She sits you down on your vanity chair before pulling out a brown lipstick and gloss. You tilt your head back to allow her an easier time and her sweet perfume fills your nostrils. Once she finishes she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile. She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your father’s call.
“We are now thirty minutes late,” The both of you share a silent laugh before heading downstairs to put on shoes and meet your father.
………..
Blaise is bored out of his mind waiting for you, he was surrounded by friends but it was clear he was anxiously awaiting your arrival. Although he thought you would like the dress he couldn’t be sure, maybe it was a bad idea to not consult you.
“Oh cheer up Zabini your girlfriend’ll be here soon.” Theodore’s quip was met with laughter from Draco.
“Not girlfriend, fiancee.” Malfoy corrects Theo before Blaise can open his mouth to say the same thing. While they laugh Blaise rolls his eyes before scanning the hall once more. Theodore could sense how his friend felt despite him trying to downplay it.
“Is there an actual ring or is this a vocal agreement?” Draco decided to push his limits
“There’s plenty of rings but we aren’t there yet kind of like you and Astoria.” Draco rolls his eyes at the reminder of his love life. “And who knows when a woman will become agreeable to your presence Nott.”
Both boys exchanged looks of amusement at Blaise’s snappy tone.
Time seems to stand still when he spots you at the entrance of his mother’s grand hall. His heart thunders as he realizes you are wearing the dress he helped create. The low light of the room captures the shimmering jewels that line the dress and he can’t recall anyone as lovely as you. For once he is rooted in place unable to fulfill the greeting he had prepared.
“I think I understand now mate.” Theodore is stumped in place as well when he follows Blaise’s line of sight.
Everyone in the hall spares a glance at you, how could they not? The dress gives the illusion that you are gliding across the floor. His mother intercepts your family and focuses on you. It’s obvious she’s fawning over how alluring you are. Your eyes scan the crowd scantily and Blaise takes that as his cue.
“I’ll catch up with you two later.” He doesn’t spare his friends a glance as he makes his way through the crowd to you.
When your eyes lock with his he internally melts, the closer he gets the more you steal his breath away. A symphony with booming music plays in his head to match his beating heart.
You straighten your posture when Blaise stands before you in a three-piece emerald green tailman suit. His hand collects yours before bowing to kiss your knuckles, and after he comes up you curtsey before him. Your dress pools around you in the most elegant way before you slowly come up again. It was nearly impossible to rip his eyes away from you but he had to greet your parents before whisking you off.
“Would you mind excusing us?” Blaise’s polite manner brings joy to your mother’s face and approval to your father's.
“Of course not,” Your mother and Domencia are quick to shoo you and him away.
His hand glides around to the small of your back while he guides you to the refreshment table. The array of food makes it hard for you to pick anything and he senses your indecision. He hands you a plate to pick as much as you want.
“Thank you, for the dress it really is amazing. Your drawing was beautiful but I never expected anything like this.” The sparkle in your eyes is all he wanted to see.
“Anything for you.” His declaration left you speechless once again so you focus on picking your food.
He then leads you to your table to eat but you hesitate before moving to sit. Blaise angles your body and dress to sit comfortably in his lap. Your stomach flutters for the umpteenth time and you try to look anywhere besides his face.
“This was your plan all along huh? Create this elaborate dress so I’m woefully dependent on you.” You begin trying the various foods on your plate while Blaise watches you.
“If I’m being honest I wish I had come up with that, but I did want to see you in a beautiful gown. Maybe steal a dance or two.” His complete focus was on you enjoying your treacle tart.
“Nobody else is dancing though,” You spare a glance around to find everyone mingling while the live band plays quietly.
“So?” His head was being cradled by his large hand as he searched your eyes.
“You must be the fiancee, we’ve heard so much about you.” Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott step into view on the other side of the table.
“I kind of miss Zabini when he was quiet and mysterious.” Theodore jokingly pouts his lips at Blaise before taking his seat.
“Fuck off,” Blaise tries to look annoyed but everyone catches the slight crack in his face.
“The only Blaise I’ve encountered is the lovesick puppy variant.” The boys roar with laughter at your one-liner.
“As much as I love this conversation, I should probably do a couple of laps around the room,” He places his hands on your hips before addressing you, “You think you’ll be okay with these vultures for a couple of minutes?”
“I think I’ll be alright,” The mischievous grin on your face convinced him and you stood up so he could fulfill his hosting duties.
“That's the spirit,” Malfoy clapped his hands at your willingness to entertain them. “Shall we get you a drink to catch up with us?”
“As long as it’s fire whiskey.” Your agreeance has them flagging down the nearest server for a round of glasses.
Surprisingly talking with Draco and Theo is easy, mostly because they’ve been shit-talking Blaise. You keep your intake of whiskey to two glasses to keep your wits about you. This wasn’t that kind of party.
They tell the story of how Blaise was knocked off his broom by an ex-girlfriend's spell. A re-enactment of how he flailed for 30 feet ensued but luckily the table was toward the back. You’d been breathing in short bursts for the past few minutes and you hope for a reprieve.
“Alright if you all don’t mind I’ll be stealing her for a dance,” Blaise’s hand stretches out to you before he calls, “M’lady.”
One last giggle escapes from your lips when you place your hand in his and slowly rise from your chair. On the way to the middle of the floor, you realize the band is playing a much louder tune than before. Blaise’s steps slow and his hand guides you around to the front of him while your dress flows flawlessly.
Each of you repeats the bow and curtsey from earlier but this time you keep eye contact. Once both of you are upright you wait for the musical cue to begin your first step. When the violinist begins their solo you step forward attaching one hand to his right shoulder and the other in his left hand. His hand envelops yours before sliding down to the small of your back, just above the flowers.
Just like you thought you two were the only ones about to dance, and people were quickly realizing that.
“Don’t look around, I want to see those beautiful eyes aimed at me.” With warm cheeks, you gaze up at Blaise who smiles back at you taking the first step in the dance. Completely confident in your steps, you follow his lead while he guides you in circles.
“This dress is the best gift anyone’s ever given me and don’t even get me started on the jewelery, thank you.” You step back as Blaise raises his arm to spin you, showcasing the multiple layers of tulle whirling around you.
“Does this mean I need to begin drafting another?” The moment you step back into each other’s space it feels as if the whole room is empty save for you two.
“If I could make a request, would you mind yellow?” The slight grimace crossing his face makes you laugh.
“And your very first flaw rears its ugly head.” You swallow the chuckle that wants to escape so that you can back away from Blaise once more. This time you both take a step to your left before holding your palms close but not touching. With your left hand behind your back, you keep your eyes on the only person in the room as you walk in a circle.
“Where would I even wear another dress like this?” Events like this don’t exactly happen every week.
“I’ll plan another party for you.” His words cause your heartbeat to thunder in your chest you almost thought he could hear it.
All playful banter between you ceased and all that could be heard were the strings of violins increasing in tempo. At the same time, you turn so that your right hand can hold a sliver of space between them. Something within his eyes made a jolt run through your body as if you took Amortentia.
With the tempo slightly decreasing it was time for you to stand side by side, facing the fireplace and his hand guiding you backward. Now that the both of you are facing each other once again you circle the other in a figure-eight motion. If you were thinking about anything other than Blaise you would feel ridiculous but there was nothing else running through your mind.
His mouth firmly remains in a smile and yours mirrors his if the strain in your cheeks had any say. Your dance comes to an end when you face each other before your last curtsey. Applause fills the room and you remember you’re not alone.
“I think it’s time for a tour.” Blaise bends down to speak lowly into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.
“I would love that.” You place your hand on his bicep and follow his lead out of the ballroom.
The corridors are dim with only candles lighting your path. Your heels click rhythmically in time with Blaise’s steps, echoing off the walls.
“You’re enjoying yourself I take it?” Even though he meant to sound sure you could hear the doubt in his voice.
“I love it, I love this dress, and spending time with you isn’t terrible.” Everything about tonight has been great and you were starting to come around to the idea of actually being with Blaise. Maybe the deal with his mother’s dead husband had a logical explanation.
“That sparkle in your eye tells me it’s a little better than terrible.” He slows to a stop before sliding his arm around your waist. An alcove that has stained glass lets the moonlight shine through allowing the colors to reflect off your skin.
“It would kill me to admit my parents are right.” Your whisper causes the biggest smirk to split his face and you almost retract your statement.
“It would kill me if you were to let that stop you.” Both of his hands find themselves planted on your waist playing with the jewels.
After a moment of looking at you his thumb and forefinger lift your head so he can press his lips delicately to yours. You tilt your head to kiss him back while your hands find purchase on his biceps. The way his thumb caresses your cheek makes you lose all inhibitions. Suddenly your hand wraps around the back of his neck to bring his lips closer, your poor dress getting squished in the process.
It felt like the two of you were molded together, if someone walked past they wouldn’t know where you end and Blaise begins. A groan sounds from him as he slides his hand from your face to the back of your neck, balling his fist full of your hair. When he pulls a gasp leaves your lips and allows him to slide his tongue in.
“Godric, save that for the honeymoon.” Theodore’s voice and Draco’s laugh feel like cold water being poured over you. Blaise’s hand leaves your hair but stays around your waist while you keep both of your hands at your side. Lip gloss makes his lips irregularly shiny and you're tempted to wipe it but you're interrupted.
“Your mother’s asking for the both of you, so we did you a favor and came ourselves.” Draco smiles before raising his glass of fire whiskey and tipping it back.
You and Blaise begin leading the long trek back to the ballroom.
“They’re going to breed like gnomes.” There was no telling who mumbled that out but it resulted in laughter spilling out from everyone.
#blaise zabini x female reader#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini imagine#slytherin boys#slytherin#harry potter fanfiction#hufflepuff#hufflepuff x slytherin#hufflepuff reader
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hey big fan of your channel and art!! was wondering if for the midnight snap series what kind of sound design you were doing it rlly sounds nice!! (also smth that could be nice with it is maybe a little bit of like tape saturation or something might be able to make the audio sound "warmer" if youre like not already doing something like that already, but you probably know better than me!!) feel free to ignore that, but wanted to say in general its so well done and sounds so good!!! its really cozy and nice!!
hey thank you!!! yeah i'd.... genuinely LOVE to talk about my thinking and approach behind the sound design, i'm actually so happy you asked me this LOL this is the kind of shit i live for.
you might assume that it's just me recording the game audio and talking quietly with my normal stream settings, and that is kinda how it STARTS, but there's actually a bit more i've been doing behind the scenes :) nothing too crazy just yet but a little goes a long way when it comes to sound! i'm hoping to really nail down the soundscape and increase the quality over time and specifically up the soothing vibes by a lot. as well as get a little better about mic etiquette and my style of speech. BUT in terms of what i'm doing in post:
the first piece of the puzzle and definitely one of the most important sauces in the whole mix is the Hard Limiter. it does what you might imagine it does, basically just places a hard barrier and says "any sounds that exceed this volume.... no you don't", sort of like a much more intense compressor. currently i have a Hard Limiter on both my commentary AND the game audio, commentary i have set to peak at around -15 to -12 db, whereas game audio is more around the -23 to -20 range. in my more polished audio from later in the AC episode it's enough difference that one doesn't drown the other out in most cases, but not a wide enough gulf that people are struggling to pay attention to one in particular or have to frequently change volume (preferably they don't have to change it at all!). i took this screenshot of the episode's complete waveform when rendering out the audio-only version of AC part 1 and it was super satisfying cause like.... yeah. this is exactly the kind of waveform read i was going for. just super even and smooth across the board, save for a couple anomalies i'll buff out over time.
the next thing i do to both my own commentary and the game audio is actually just cutting down on harsher, higher frequencies with an EQ and just upping the bassier, warmer tones. i started with something super small in the first couple of episodes, i'm probably gonna go a bit harder on it for future stuff though. i wanna find a balance that doesn't make the game sound unrecognizable or anything but is noticeably easier on the ears and sounds more like a nice rolling wave rather than beep boop pac-man time.
past this i have a couple more things added to the commentary track:
to intensify the previous effect mentioned and cut down on harsh frequencies in my speech, i actually have a dedicated de-esser on my voice as well as my usual warmer EQ. i have the de-esser going pretty hard too, you might hear the difference from my usual stream commentary if you were to listen closely. really just taking those harsh t's and s's in my speech and making them sound more like a nice "shhhh", this one is super important i think
last thing i have to speak on otherwise is actually a plugin i found and bought specifically for this show and ends up being subtle but i think SUUUPER helpful in the long run, and that's this plugin called "spiff". spiff is a plugin by oeksound and i guess it's referred to as like, a transient editor? i'm actually not sure how it works at all on the nitty gritty level BUT the important thing is that they have a very important preset in the software, and that is a preset specifically designed to lessen and/or remove like... mouth sounds. yknow like lip smacks and the like. just kinda the gross smacks and clicks you don't hear as much in normal speech but can come through really intensely on a recording and kinda make ya uncomfortable. it obviously doesn't remove a lot of the more intense stuff, it's not a magic wand in my experience. but listening to the output of what it's removing on its own makes it REALLY clear there's a lot of little things it picks up and just kinda makes speech more soothing to listen to. not something i'm racing to apply to my normal streams, BUT for a sleep aid series where good audio is key????? 100% worth it, i like it a lot.
anyway yeah that's about it for now! a lot of it is pretty simple in and of itself but it's stuff i've been working at and experimenting with since i first started doing tests for the show and it's gonna be real nice to keep honing this stuff in. also cool suggestion with the tape saturation idea, i might look into something like that! once i nail stuff like leveling and frequency tuning for this show, i wanna look into some fancier ways of making the soundscape unique to this show compared to my normal streams so ideas like that are super helpful!
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Orochimaru with a s/o who grabs and slaps his ass at every opportunity?
Slapping And Grabbing His Ass At Every Opportunity || Orochimaru x reader
A/n : Heyyy friend ! I'm so happy I found time to write this because it's specially beach made lmao. I remebered writing something similar once but I don't remember if it was for him or someone else 😂
Warnings : No mention of gender, spanks, rough sex, mention of boner, grinding, mention of cream pie, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it
Masterlist ⚜
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Word count : 615
He can’t lmao. Just the sight of you is too much to handle for his wild hormones
It drives him wild each time you hand make contact with his ass. And you know this that was the point, making him fall for you even harder in the most unexpected way
It all started with subtle, almost shy touches. Just to see how he was going to react
But then you moved things up a gear. When he was in the kitchen area making himself lunch you’d pass by and give his ass cheek a firm slap before running off. This first time he jumped up a low squeak coming past his lips. His eyes were wide as he froze in place. He knew it was you but he didn’t want to face you yet, he was so goddamn red ( like me and my sunburns )
Since he didn’t punish~scold you for that you started doing it more often. You sized every possibilities to give his behind firm spanks
It could happen when he was getting out of the shower. When you were at your private hot spring
Well this time didn’t end well for you because let’s say that when you slapped his ass the wet sound of your hand against his ass echoed in the room. Since you were alone he didn’t prevent the high pitched squeak coming from his mouth, making him extremely flustered
You then saw him move on the other side of the pool, you were anxious about having crossed a line. But little did you know that he was only brassing himself not to rail the fuck out of you. And regardless of your gender just staying in the same water as him in this moment could get you pregnant
Without surprise he still railed the daylight out of you but at least you only struggled to walk for a day. It could have been three 👀
From the moment you understand that it’s exciting him you use it to make him understand you need him. And he is in love with this kinda animalistic way of asking for him to claim you
You’ve never done that when other people were around. you knew it was off limits. I like to think that he can’t help but squeak each time you do it so if others were around it would lead to really awkward situations
He’d be so mad that he would ignore you so much that you’d wonder if you really exist. He would stay away from you and not speak as kindly as he does. Don’t get me wrong he still loves you, but he needs to make you understand that you crossed his boundaries
Anyways
When you’re both in bed in the morning, you bodies still pleasantly heavy and tingling from your nightly activities, your hands would snake around his waist and rest against the small of his back
He loves getting booty rubs. Either dressed or naked. But the latter seems to increasing your connection so he prefers this one
After some time your hands would travel to the swell of his ass and gently squeeze the plump flesh. Either he is sleeping or not you’ll be able to hear him moan softly in your ear
His body would react naturally to your touch. His previously soft length, getting progressively hard as it swells against your thigh. And if you keep going he might as well start to grind against you
In this case even if he intended to get up early he was going to spend as much time as he now needed
Spoiler alert : you’re going to get cream pied 🙂
#naruto#naruto imagine#naruto smut#naruto shippuden#naruto shippuden imagine#naruto shippuden smut#orochimaru#orochimaru imagine#orochimaru x reader#orochimaru x reder smut#orochimaru smut#request#smut#miri-writes
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❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿
Chapter Masterpost: [ ♡ ♡ ♡ ]
Chapter Six; Gifted
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Though a few of the neighbours had offered to clean up in the morning, by the time anyone got to the clearing, it was long gone. Even Frank’s expertly crafted bonfire pit looked like nothing had ever happened, the grass flat and pristine as ever. Most of your neighbourhood shrugs it off, but you do take a note of Detective Julie on the case, dragging Frank around the clearing with an adorable outfit and a magnifying glass that is just far too big. She keeps calling him ‘Watson’ and you vaguely wonder how she knew a reference like that. You file the situation strictly in ‘not my circus, not my monkeys,’ and resolve to let yourself just be thankful you didn’t have to move your own record player again. Everything was returned in perfect condition, after all, even set up exactly as you liked it. Though, you will admit it was a tad worrying that someone had come into your home while you were sleeping. Though if it really was one of the neighbours, just too nervous to admit to such a sweet deed, you sincerely weren’t worried in the slightest. You were thankful for the spare time, vaguely remembering something important you needed to look into.
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Alright, so here’s the plan. We’re gonna make up yesterday’s lazy day, which had turned into such a wash. Barnaby decided before even heading to sleep last night; he had SO much relaxing to catch up on, and nothing was going to stop him. He was going to wake up nice and late (He did not– the hustle and bustle of the clearing stirring him before he was ready), He was going to head to the bugdega for not one! But two! Of the most perfectest hot dogs ever! (How was Howdy out of ketchup? Of all the condiments to miss on the perfectest hot dogs– Why ketchup???) and he was going to return next door to his own home, where his newest friend had promised a dip in what was now going to be the warmest, nicest water ever–
Why was he out? Now– Barnaby was NOT the grumpy type, but even he had his limits. Despite the warnings, here he was in the felt; Wally Darling, set up off the beaten path with a huge easel and canvas, staring intently at the landscape before them. Barnaby watched for a minute, and Wally just never moved. His exhausted eyes blinked one, then the other, and the only further movement was him squinting even harder.
He couldn’t just sit and watch this. But… He peered past his darlingest friend; The paddling pool sat there, beckoning him… He let out a pitiful whine before succumbing to the responsibilities that came with being a good friend.
“What’cha painting there, Buddy?”
“Huh? Oh! Barnaby!” Wally, startled, turned up towards the dog towering over him, “I… Was just… Ah, I was painting Home, of course!” He finally dug the brush into his paint, swirling it around and lifting his hand towards the canvas, trying desperately to work around his trembling arm.
“Home, Huh?”
“Yes! Home,” Wally nodded firmly, and stubbornly pressed the brush into the fabric, sketching in the familiar box that he called his home, “You see, I saw the morning sun hitting it, and,” He mimicked a chefs kiss motion, completely forgetting the ‘kiss’ part before returning to his work, “I need to focus! Can’t dillydally, now!”
“Mm,” Barnaby smirked, and flopped down a little, resting his big doggy head on Wally’s unsuspecting shoulder, “Weird– I didn’t know Home was blue. We have that in common!”
The snicker from his shoulder shook Wally to his core. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his darkened gaze shifted to the peripheral, examining the blue mass on his shoulder carefully.
“You gotta rest, buddy.” Barnaby was firm on this, gingerly taking the brush from his hand. Wally grasped for it again, but was held back by Barnaby’s massive paw on his face. It muffled the ‘I do not!’s as Wally squirmed desperately, tantrum noises rumbling the blue felt in his face. Barnaby waited a few moments for him to tire himself out, before scooping him under his arm, the man hanging there limply, but continuing his grumpy mumbling. What a drama queen. “Yeah, yeah. I getcha. Sometimes things don’t go as planned, Buddy. But you just gotta–” He sent a tired look into one of Home’s windows as they approached, and the door swung open easily for him. Barnaby lifted Wally with one hand, and readied himself, before bowling the puppet through the door, “Roll with it,”
Home’s door snaps shut before Wally realises where he is, and Barnaby gives the structure an appreciative pat on it’s trim,
“Thanks, Bud. Take care of him, I’ll be back,”
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You take another bite of your peanut butter toast, and flip the page in your notebook. It was as you thought; Last night should have been a bright, beautiful full moon. The weather said nothing about clouds, either, not a dang one! So what was that strange phenomenon? Perhaps it had dipped so low that the trees had hidden it from that angle, but… Surely you still would have seen the light? You take another bite, puzzling your question over with it, and staring lasers into the far wall. You resolve to answer this question later, closing the book and leaving it on your kitchen island, turning away to wash the crumbs off of your plate.
You fully expected a knock on your door sometime today, what with Sherlock out in full force, but you definitely weren’t expecting Barnaby. Especially not this early! You treat him to a big smile, though, and open the door wide,
“Barnaby!! I don’t have snacks ready yet, but you can come in if you like, I’ve got the a/c running full blast and–” He holds up a paw to stop you, and takes in a deep breath.
“It is time.” You stop in your tracks. “I have to admit…” You’re holding your breath. “... and this is hard for me, y’know,” Your brain is practically vibrating out of your skull. The excitement on your face is impossible to ignore, and leads to a steady laugh from Barnaby, “I, Barnaby B. Beagle… Might, just possibly!!!” He continues to draw it out, wondering how long you’ll go without blinking. “Might!!! Not know everything. I have a question.”
All the tension leaves your body. You might just be able to die happy. After all this time, after all these adventures, Barnaby B. Beagle had a science question for YOU! You squeal with delight, and grab at his ginormous paws, pulling him inside and making a beeline for your lab, not even bothering to shut the front door. You scramble to shove your arms through your coat, and hurry to the table, pushing a few forgotten experiments out of the way haphazardly as you peer up at the dog, bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement.
“Honestly… Its more of a request. Y’see, I need some medicine.”
You look crushed. He takes one look at you, and lets out a set of wheezy belly laughs, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Oh, Barnaby. Shouldn’t you maybe go to Howdy’s for that? There are lots of kinds, and you really should leave mixing those things to the professionals–” You’re cut off as he finally manages to finish his riot, sniffling the last bits from his nose,
“Not that kinda medicine, no ones sick!” He explained, resulting in a soft ‘phew!’ from you, “Y’see, I need something to make someone sleep. He’s havin a lot of troubles lately, ‘n he needs somethin’ nice to just put him to bed for a lil’ bit. Y’know?”
Hmm. You did know. Though the ‘perfect cure’ had certainly worked, and continued to work when you were desperate, you too were plagued by fitful sleeps. You explain your hypothesis, but Barnaby shoots it down pretty quickly, explaining that the friend didn’t really like to have company in his home after dark. Huh. You wrack your brain, tapping a finger against your lips to try to help you concentrate. There were things you knew of, teas and smells and flowers and honeys…
“Though,” Barnaby muses, tilting his head, “... He might not mind as much if it’s you.”
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This was how, despite your protests, and after an hour or so of mixing and chopping things to bring with you, you’ve ended up on the doorstep of Home. You peer behind you; giving a bitter stare to the dog that had made himself comfortable in your paddling pool, balancing a beach ball effortlessly on his nose and jamming out to your radio. Unfair; completely unfair. Though…
You turn back to Home. You hadn’t spent much time with it since you arrived, and nervously, you give it a good morning. It creaks in response, and you can see the windows bend in to a cheery smile. Truthfully, despite your reservations, once you’d known one of your friends was in need you probably would have dropped all your plans anyways. Wally, however, wasn’t the type to need things.
“May I?” You ask, raising a closed fist to the door. Home creaks agreeably, and you give a gentle but firm knock on the door. You wait a minute or so with no reply. You can hear noises from Home, though you don’t believe its directed at you. “... Home, I know I should wait, but I have some things I need to drop off for Mr. Darling. May I come in a moment?” You lift the basket that is hanging off your other arm to show to it’s waiting window. Another few internal noises sound before you get an affirming clap from the shutters. The door squeaks open, and you take the invitation heartily, stepping over the threshold.
Home is decorated exactly as you’d expected. The living room is spacious, with an armchair big enough to get lost in, facing an intricate fireplace that looks well maintained. In fact, everything looks well maintained. Despite the dense collage of paintings decorating the walls, not a speck of dust is visible. From the entryway, you can see into his kitchen. You’d swear it had never been used before if you didn’t see the bowl of apples, piled higher than necessary, sitting on the counter. Despite the light pouring into the front rooms, the stairway just in front of you is shrouded in darkness. A shiver of fear runs down your spine, but you can’t put your finger on why. Wally wasn’t dangerous, he was Wally. He was sweet and charming and agreeable and polite. You push through your reservations, and call out through the dim halls,
“Mr. Darling?” You pause, waiting for a response that doesn’t come. Your heart stings a little at this, hoping that at least the two of you were friends enough that he wouldn’t ice you out like this. “... Wally?” You ask again, a little more firmly. It takes another moment, but you hear a weak noise from somewhere beyond the staircase. There he was. You take the first step, and reach for the lightswitch, waiting a beat for the affirmative squeak from Home before you flick it, and complete your ascension.
You find Wally in the room at the end of the hall. He is in his bed, blankets wrapped tight around his body but especially his face, leaving only his unblinking eyes visible. This look gives you pause. Barnaby said that he was exhausted, but the Wally in front of you looked so wired that he might just never sleep again. For some reason, you thought he looked an awfully lot like… A stray cat, ready to swipe when given the first affections from a good samaritan. Your lip wobbles a little with this adorable thought, and the worries you have for the situation fade away. You know exactly how to handle this kind of situation, easy peasy.
You don’t acknowledge him, strolling over to his bedside table and setting a cloth wrapped parcel on top.
“What’s that?” He asks in a hushed tone, obviously apprehensive about the whole situation. You unwrap the top, and the sides fall to reveal a plastic tupperware of sliced apples. His breath hitches, and you crack open the top, before turning on your heel,
“I’ll be right back.” You promise, and stroll back downstairs.
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By the time you return, the container has been practically licked clean. The top had been set back where it belongs, and a bit of the tension in Wally’s form had fallen. You take this as a sign to continue the calming assault, stepping back into his bedroom with a tray. Two mugs are balanced on it precariously, and you announce your presence softly,
“Alright, Mr. Darling. I’ve got some–”
“Wally.” He says sternly, and it stops you in your tracks.
“What?”
“You called me Wally. Earlier.”... He wasn’t wrong about that. A pang of guilt hits you in the chest. Did… He feel left out? It was true that he was the only one that she wasn’t on a first name basis with, but… Well, he’d never seemed to mind. You wonder for a moment if there were other ways you’d treated him differently, or unfairly. The thought of that nearly breaks your heart.
“... Is that tea?” He asks finally, breaking you from your haze. You nod. “... Can you turn off the light?”
This was a request you completely understood. A smile returns to your face, and you oblige, turning back and stepping into the hallway to turn off the light. You make your way carefully back to him, and sit yourself on the floor next to his bed. You take one of the mugs, and hand it to him, mentioning to be careful of the heat. You hear him untangle his hands, and though your eyes hadn’t quite adjusted, you feel him pick up the mug out of your hands. You pick up the other one, and take a sip.
“It’s chamomile, and honey.” You explain quietly, gazing down at the mug as the shapes in the dark start to form again. “It helps with circulation. It’ll make you sleep better. I think it tastes pretty nice, too,” You give the liquid a quick swirl before taking another sip. You feel the warm edge of a mug bonk you on the cheek, and you turn back to the other puppet in the room, “Wally, you really should at least try it–”
“Drank it all,” He promised, and when you lift the cup, you’re surprised to find that its completely true. You must’ve been so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear him sipping. Strange. You decide not to press it, though. You tend to act a little weird around Wally as is, it wouldn’t be out of the question that you’d missed some things.
Or a lot of things.
You pull the basket back to your side, digging around in it for the last gift. As you lift it up and turn back to Wally, your vision has adjusted enough to finally see him. His grip on the blanket has relaxed, and it's now just draped over his shoulders. His eyes have returned to their half-lidded gaze, and hes watching every movement you make in the darkness. His pompadour has deflated, and blue locks curl across his face haphazardly. You set a tiny cloth bag, tied delicately with a pair of swirly ribbons and a tiny star-shaped charm, down next to his face. He stares at it, and picks it up, turning it over with a confused look.
“It’s lavender, amongst other things,” You explain, “I mixed it up myself. The smell is known to be relaxing. I thought if I packed it up, you could keep it nearby to help? You know, with the sleeping?”
He takes the package and lifts it to his face, giving it a short sniff. You briefly wonder what orifice he smells through, but again abandon this line of questioning. All your new friends have quirks, Wally could have this one too.
“... Smells like you,”
A squeak escapes you. He’s staring again. It was true that on occasion you’d mixed up a batch for your own spastic sleep schedule, but you didn’t think it was that strong. You lift your wrist to your nose and give it a curious sniff. Wally finally lets out a dry laugh in return.
“... How do you feel? Sleepy?” You ask quietly, and tilt your head. Wally doesn’t move for a moment… Then he turns his face away from you guiltily, mumbling something under his breath. Oh, dear. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but you came prepared. You gently push the tray of mugs off to the side where they won’t be stepped on, and stand up. You can do this, you’re so brave, and you’re going to be so unbelievably normal about this. Wally is your very dear friend, and you’d done this with practically every other friend you had at this point. You could give him the courtesy, too, even if it made your brain swim and your stomach flop. Start small.
You climb onto the bed, Wally sitting up with a start. He narrows his eyes at you defensively. You reach a hand towards him slowly, giving him a chance to pull away if he needs to, and brush the strands of hair out of his face. Your hand presses against his bare forehead. He hesitates a moment, before you feel him pressing back against it. You trace your thumb across his brow, and move your hand down slowly to cup his cheek. The tension in his shoulders all but disappears, and you can see his kitten grin broaden as he melts into your touch. You didn’t know how long you’d been holding your breath, but you finally release it in a soft sigh. You release him, and scooch yourself over to the head of the bed, making yourself comfortable before patting your lap. He blinks at you curiously.
“I can’t take credit for this one,” You admit with a smile, “Poppy showed it to me. It’s scientifically proven to help you sleep, though. Promise.”
You take his hand, and guide his head onto your lap. Hes stiff, gripping your previous gift in his hand so tight that you briefly worry that it might break. Luckily the tie holds, and slowly he relaxes. You tell him to close his eyes. He obliges.
“... Can you sing me a lullaby?” He asks under his breath. Your cheeks flush, but you can’t possibly say no to such an adorable request. You bury your fingers in his hair, rubbing the top of his head with your thumb, and relaxing back onto the headboard before you start to sing to him,
“If the stars were mine, I’d give them all to you,” Your voice is low and hoarse, still a little nervous that he was only joking, and that he’d pull away from you and laugh. That wasn’t the Wally Darling you knew, though, and you took his contented sigh as reason to continue,
“I’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue… I would never let the sun forget to shine upon your face, so when others would have rain clouds, you'd have only sunny days.” You can feel his smile at this against your lap. Somehow you knew he’d like this one.
“If the stars were mine, I'd tell you what I'd do… I'd put the stars right in a jar and give them all to you…”
His breathing is slow. Nearly there. You continue the hypnotising movement in your thumb, trying to keep your mind from dwelling on just how soft his hair is.
“If the world was mine, I’d paint it gold and green~” Wally’s soft voice cuts through the darkness, and nearly scares you out of your felt. You hadn’t expected a reply, and you press your free hand against your chest to try and slow the rapid beating of your heart.
“I’d make the oceans orange… For a brilliant colour scheme. I would colour all the mountains, make the sky forever blue, so the world would be a painting, and I’d live inside with you…” His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled himself closer, making himself comfy closer to your tummy than your lap. You lift your chin to stare at the ceiling, trying to keep any bit of composure you have, for sleep’s sake. His voice was wavering, you could hear his exhaustion creeping through.
“If the world was mine, I tell you what I’d do… I’d wrap the world in ribbons, and then give it all… to you…” He breathed the last line in a satisfied sign, nuzzling his head directly against you. His breathing slowed. His body fully relaxed.
Finally, Wally Darling rested.
(A/N: Another long one! I think we all deserve a nice rest tonight.)
@elegantkidfansoul
#Wally Darling x reader#Welcome home x reader#Welcome home fic#ive been waiting to use this song since i started the fic eee
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It's me again🌚 can you do a Buddha,Jack,Beelzebub with a reader that has the ability to split their soul and physical body?It makes them harder to kill(they have to be fused together to kill permanently), with the downside that their physical body is weaker and is more prone to die first (if one part dies the other regenerates the other).The reader has been disguised as twins,only merging when alone, with one day they're find out?
It’s been a while since I replied to a request of yours- Since I wrote for Dorohedoro-
-
𝔹𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕙𝕒:
He just wanted to check in on you, since you seemed slightly light headed. So after a small bit of wondering, Buddha decided to check in on you by dropping into your house with some snacks. But when he did, he saw a duplicate of you merging into your body.
It seemed a bit awkard, but Buddha just kept dropping in like nothing happened, giving you your treats and the things you needed.
But eventually, he decided to question what happened. Apparently, it was your ability. You could split your soul into a physical clone.
Hey, that could be pretty useful- And it is, in your case- Some people tend to both get confused by your clones, even if they’re slightly weaker the more clones you go by with.
Still, you make it work-
Buddha generally has no problem with it, but he does prefer to have only one of you so he has a proper target for affection-
But in the case of battles, he’ll gladly fight with you to make sure you don’t need to waste energy. If his lover’s facing some not worth it, why should they waste their time-?
Still, since you tend to be twins, it does get difficult- Even for him, he has trouble deciphering who is who, so he always just gives one of you a lollipop so he can figure out which is which-
Well, whatever- More kisses for the both of you-
𝕁𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣
Honestly, he figured it out before you told him. His eye told him all there was needed, since you two had the same color, and your auras were linked when you had stood together.
Still, he does find it useful when you split into different souls or bodies just to get something done. He doesn’t want you draining yourself too much though, so he’ll remind you not to use too much power.
While Jack does enjoy knowing how you two are, he does prefer only one of you. It gives him much more opportunities for small kisses, as well as small hugs without having to see your other body simply standing there-
Still, your abilities help a lot in certain situations, whether that be the kitchen, multiple step things, or multi tasking.
But especially in battle, where you have improvised to your very best, figuring out every weakness and strength you have. You use it to the best of your ability, both confusing and maybe slowing down your opponent.
𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕫𝕖𝕓𝕦𝕓:
He’s not too stunned by it or anything. But instead thinks of it as interesting. You’re limited by the amount of clones and power they have, but can still use them to certain advantage.
Beelzebub might end up asking you questions of your ability. He might want to find out all he can with it.
You may even help him around with it as well. Just be careful with your clones- Even if you’ll make work faster, there is a chance of you getting hurt- Beelzebub doesn’t want that-
So he may keep certain watch while doing his own thing, ensuring that you don’t screw anything up and hurt yourself-
But to have you help him around with comforting is pretty nice. Even if he seems cautious of it, he’ll slowly tend to tense down when he realizes that he hadn’t punched a hole through your heart-
#record of ragnarok#record of ragnarok x reader#jack the ripper x reader#jack the ripper record of ragnarok#beelzebub record of ragnarok#Beelzebub x reader#buddha record of ragnarok#Buddha x reader
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Publishing is notoriously competitive and difficult--I've been hearing other authors and publishing people saying it's now harder than it's ever been to get published.
I'm not daunted! This path is hard periodt. But I'm more like wondering to myself "Is it really harder than ever to get published?"
I would love your thoughts.
That doesn't really resonate with me.
It's always been extremely difficult. It's weird to me that anyone would think otherwise. We know that being a successful actor or musician or athlete is difficult -- so, too, is being a professional writer. It just *feels* different, maybe, because people think "anyone can write." Sure, just like just nearly anyone CAN bounce a basketball -- that doesn't mean most people are good enough at it to be a Laker!
In the past (like, 20 years ago and earlier), there were IMO many more hurdles in publishing. Like you think "Publishing So White" *now*??? What about in the 20th century, or before then?
Back then, before the dawn of the computer age, the pool of people trying to be writers was probably a lot smaller. BUT, most people who were successful probably went to certain schools and knew certain people and had a certain kind of background and a certain amount of privilege. But without those things? Ehhhhh. The barrier to entry was pretty high.
Just... logistically, in terms of *steps* to it all. ALL THAT TYPING. The research? If you weren't connected AT ALL, you hadn't been to a "good school" or anything, you didn't have a professor or somebody to emulate -- how would you even know where to begin? You could DO it, it just would take a lot of time to figure it all out and it wouldn't be "easy" by any means. The postage alone would have been a problem!
Now there is much more broad, readily available and FREE access to all kinds of information about writing and publishing -- querying and submissions are free, and pretty simple -- you don't have to lug around a heavy-ass typewriter -- you don't have to go to a certain school or know certain people (I mean, you still CAN do those things, but you don't HAVE to). There are more options than ever in terms of what publishing looks like, and the barriers for entry for people who want to attempt it have been lowered to the point of barely being a speed bump.
This does of course mean that there are more people than ever TRYING to get published, so maybe it is "more competitive", but IMO, it's definitely not more difficult in a literal sense.
Annnnd.... I also don't really believe in the "competitive" part, so much. Like, yes, a LOT of people want to get published, few ever will be. BUT, I don't think of those other people as your competition. That implies that you are up against a bunch of other people in a race or something and only one can "win" and everyone else "loses."
I'm thinking it's more like, authors are poppy farmers, and manuscripts are a vast field of pink poppies. They are all shades of pink, mostly pretty light, but some are hot pink, some are orange-red, and some are RED-red. The reddest ones get picked. Sometimes ones that are very hot pink or orange-red get picked, too. There's no limit to the number of red ones that CAN get picked, it's just that there are only a few RED red ones. The more poppies there are, the more red ones there are, and the choosier the picker can be about getting the reddest of the red.
Lots of people are not great at poppy farming. They get a case of poppy-mildew, or their poppies come up scraggly and weird, and they give up. The successful poppy farmers are the ones who research poppy variants and poppy care, who take the time to water and weed and all that stuff, who learn about how to get the reddest poppies and implement that knowledge. They aren't really "competing" with other poppy farmers per se -- rather, they are striving to to be the best possible poppy farmers they can be. And most of all -- THEY KEEP FARMING.
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Dungeon Meshi rewatch ep 10 notes
so I always play the intro and outro because I love them so much and another thing caught my eye that might be nothing but is there a reason the women and men are reaching up, with Falin and Laios the ones in the center, and then them grasping hands? it feels meaningful anyway
ah it's the frog costumes ep hahahaha
they've reached the stairs they have to take to reach the 5th basement floor, near the orc's settlement (where the orc leader told them the red dragon was seen, hanging out and causing problems)
but the staircase is filled with tentacles so they can't just stroll down lol
Chilchuck is upset bc the tentacles mess with traps making it even harder to disarm them
KENSUKE SHOOK ALERTING THEM AGAIN but Laios didn't react fast enough and poor Kensuke got SNATCHED by froggy bad froggy let Kensuke go!
LOTS of notes for ep 10 so imma cut it off here
aw bye bye Kensuke (and Marcille's staff is called Ambrosia bye bye Ambrosia)
lol Senshi calling Chilchuck a kid again
he saves the day by using frog skin to wrap his hands so that tentacles don't hurt him smart kid hehe (sorry Chilchuck)
Marcille's weakness as a fashion girlie exposed lol
THEY'VE REACHED THE 5TH FLOOR castle town
lol the frog skin is stuck to them hahaha
(Chilchuck and Senshi's faces tho akjfiashioaghoa they look like Russian dolls help)
Namari gets motion sickness from the return spell portal thingie (bitch, same, that would totally be me, I get motion sickness from walking a little faster lol)
ahhh right right grumpy mcpants works for the "lord of the island" (ig the dungeon is on "his land"?)
hmmmmmmmmmm dwarf mines you say 👀 is that how Senshi got into the dungeon before it officially got discovered?
anyways, he's suggesting to the haughty looking dude to deploy troops in order to take care of the orc "problem"
hm lord haughtypants calls dwarfs "abominable" and says they're like moles
OH LORE ok let's see
so the dwarfs and elves were at war (no reason stated) and
not sure what that means exactly but I'm guessing the elves went to the west and the dwarfs to the east?
the dwarfs hid in the lands (where haughtypants is a lord now ig) and waited for the elves, and even after the war they continued to dig tunnels WHICH ALLEGEDLY SWALLOWED THE GOLDEN CITY AND TURNED IT INTO A DUNGEON wait wasn't that the dark evil crazy magician's work (allegedly)? hmmmmm interesting
he also says that the surviving dwarfs are responsible for the dungeon's continued expansion
grumpy mcpants says (his name is Mr Tansu just in case you think I am using the dumb nickname bc I don't remember) that rumor can't be trusted
ok so he copied a magical circle, I'm guessing before they met Senshi & friends bc afterwards they just bailed right? and it's in elvish, the same individual as before
AHA so his theory is that the crazy evil magician is an elf and these magical circles are his work, interesting (he says the work is beyond the abilities of dwarfs and tall-men)
OH EVEN MORE STUFF wow how did I manage to miss all this I'm such a clown
anyway, the western elves are sending letters now being like "the dungeon is ours we want it back" (well, our "heritage" is what they said, which is interesting bc weren't the king and Delgal tall-men?)
oh EVEN MORE INFO so they won the war with the dwarfs? bc they took the land from them and gave it to humans bc they apparently "didn't know what to do with it" (their king granted it himself even)
this evil magician, if it is an elf the only one I can think of is the crazy eyes elf from the living paintings, so I wonder if it has something to do with him
lordy mcislandpants doesn't want to give them back the island bc he wants the treasure that must still be in the depths of the dungeon lol
MAN we're getting so much lore and theories and everything now, the hamster in my brain is being pushed to his limits
grumpy mcpants says that the elves aren't after the treasure but the immortality spelll that's been cast on the dungeon (that does seem more valuable lol)
he tells mr lord to get his hands on the blueprint of the spell before they do and then he'll finally be treated as an equal, or even their superior
he says the lord of the dungeon possesses it (is that the evil magician or does he mean whoever "beats" the dungeon?), and tells him to keep supporting adventurers and not to cut down prices for hunting monsters etc
oh he'll issue a reward for taking down the orcs (that does not sound good)
ah yeahh I remember, Namari goes to the resurrection office and she asks about Falin (no luck of course)
on the 5th floor, outside the golden castle is the castle town (now abandoned and in ruins)
right, so Laios did mention that the red dragon is supposed to hunt once a month and then sleep until the next hunt but this red dragon has been active nonstop, even going as far as getting the orcs to flee their settlement which Marcille finds odd (but it's also no good for Falin bc she's getting digested faster)
aw cute detail look at Shuro all blushy as he's looking at Falin here hahaha
fun fact: the weak spot of a dragon is the underside of his neck
there she goes again saying her protective magic isn't as powerful as Falin's. She was the best in school, right? It's making it seem like something either happened to her or the school didn't have any good students in it hahaha I mean, I don't really have anyone else to compare her to (besides Falin who is apparently better than her in everything magic related) so I can't tell if it's just normal for her not to be able to do this stuff or what.
ALSO not me just realising Falin is a tall-(wo)man and aren't tall-men supposed to be weaker in magic than elves by default? hm
listening to their plan of trapping the dragon now after I know what happens makes me think that they should have known this wouldn't work out. they're all humanfailures
hmmmm I don't think anyone has mentioned this before but where are dragons normally bc apparently not on the 5th floor lol my guess is lower? hm does that mean something chased it up, like the orcs were chased up by the dragon WAIT IS WHAT SENSHI WAS TALKING ABOUT ACTUALLY HAPPENING????? Did something fuck up the ecosystem? 👀
Senshi guarding his special knife hehehe
and oop the red dragon is here
random screengrabs:
them in Mr Tansu's imagination tho LOL
Idk about you but I ship Senshi x bread 100%
same Chilchuck, same
paused and laughed
his timing is impeccable truly I love him
#dunmesh#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi ep 10#so many juicy tidbits in this ep had my hamster wheel spinning mad#love it#but also so many notes and ss
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Me!!! Me!!! I just got an idea!!! What about reader asking Sherlock to read her the book he is reading?. she lays between his arms and he starts reading to her but it's about anatomy and it's about blood and tissue and disgusting stuffs and she laughs, then he laughs and he grabs another book.
Awe this is cute! I hope you like this little blurb. There is a tad bit of spice/implied stuff towards the end. Graphic by @firefly-graphics
Anatomy of Boredom
All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03).
You sighed, walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water, watching Sherlock in his chair, engrossed in some book to enrapture his mind distracting it from the lack of cases he had the past week. He murmured to himself, yet his shoulders were lax, and his lips pursed into a thin line, making him appear bored.
What didn't make sense to you was the book he read was obnoxiously large as if he expected you to ask what it was about. You hadn't talked much to him at all today, as you were busy scheduling courses and filing for job applications. leaving little room for discussion and John was out and about leaving you alone together for the rest of the day.
"What are you reading?" You asked, curiosity getting the better of you as you settled in John's chair, your cup of tea in your hands. Sherlock barely passed you a glance, which was more of a glare, and you huffed in annoyance.
If he wanted to be difficult, you would wait it out, letting him get over himself but he prided himself on waiting, which he was mostly good at it. When it came to you, however, well you pushed his limits at times, this being one of them.
He groaned stretching out a leg. "Why don't you find out?" The corner of his lip twitched, and you decided to take the challenge in stride no matter the fact he was acting like a petulant child.
You less than gracefully take the book from his hands as you sat on his lap his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against his chest, his breath warm along your neck sending tingles down your spine.
"Anatomical Principalities, Third Edition," You read the title aloud, thumbing through the pages, greeted with countless diagrams and descriptions of matter you had no interest in reading. "How riveting, no wonder you can't sit still looking through this."
Sherlock chuckles, pressing kisses in the crook of your neck, leaving your mind swimming. It'd been far too long without his touch and you are all to apt to let him take his time with you. not wanting it to end.
"Read me a story," you gasped as his hands slide further up your chest, teasing you, slowly making your walls crumble apart.
He nipped harder along your neck, eliciting a whimper from you and he didn't stop his conquest. "Would you like me to read aloud a sequence from your favorite romance book? Perhaps recreate a few scenes..." his voice deepened, and you willed yourself not to squirm because you know you're going to be in for an interesting anatomy lesson and experiment.
******
@bakerstreethound @starks-hero @frostandflamesfanfic @lilythemadqueen @strangelockd @sobeautifullyobsessed @azu21 @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @thealleydog @starstruck-loner @groovy-lady @withalittlehoney @asherloki @darsynia @honeybeezgobzzzzz @aephereal @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds @lady-harvey @zombiesnips-blog @asirxrowena @battledress
#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes imagine#sherlock holmes fanfiction#sherlock holmes fanfic#sherlock fanfiction#sherlock fanfic#bbc sherlock#sherlock bbc#benedict cumberbatch#sherlock tv#writing request#writing prompt#writing blurb
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sky
TW: depicted gore, blood, violence
The grass glistened with morning dew as the sun rose over FallenClan territory, a peaceful sight to behold. Sunlight shimmered in the dewdrops like it was a mirror, the grass bending over with the weight. The trees stood still, only their leaves trembling ever so slightly in the gentle breeze.
The serenity was shattered by a white and grey blur of a cat shooting through the grass, cyan eyes wide with adrenaline. The cat let out a howl, a mix of fear and excitement. Because behind the cat was a huge dog, its short black and tan fur a startling contrast against the peaceful green of the morning. Drool dripped from the beast’s jaws as it barked loudly, the sound rippling through the mountainous terrain.
Sky leaped longer as he ran, his heart thumping in his chest as his ears roared with blood. The initial adrenaline induced excitement had worn away to deep, primal fear. He raced faster, harder, pushing his muscles to the limit as he yowled for help.
The cat darted through the grass, swerving wildly and turning quickly in a feeble attempt to escape. But Sky was soon saved, as a brown tabby cat leaped into his sight. He internally let out a sigh of relief as he scurried to hide behind the cat whilst he caught his breath.
Sky turned and let out a thankful purr when he noticed a black and white cat barrelling into the dog, and a tortoiseshell cat attacking its other side. Once he’d caught his breath, Sky lunged forward and raked his claws down the dog’s snout, satisfaction flooding him when the beast howled and yelped and fled, its blood staining his claws.
“Thank you,” he panted to the four cats, a grey and white cat helping him to his paws. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem,” the tortoiseshell cat chirped, examining him for wounds. “I don’t think we did much though, you really scared it off, we were just there for intimidation.”
“Nonsense!” Sky purred, relaxing enough to sit down. “Without you guys I’d be crowfood!”
“Perhaps we should have our medicine cat check you over for injuries,” the grey and white cat murmured. “Just in case.”
Sky wondered what a ‘medicine cat’ was, but decided it sounded alright so he nodded. Together, the five headed back to what the strange cats claimed to be their Clan’s camp. Sky had heard of the cats of Clans, but he’d never met any of them.
When he did arrive in their camp, Sky was entranced by the strange cats all around him.
There was one young she-cat with silver and white fur and a bushy red tail. She was listening to a small black and white kit chatter about… slugs? Sky looked around further, taking in all the cats. Some had flowers or herbs or even collars, and they were all different!
He instantly loved this place.
“Goldenstar!” The tortoiseshell cat by his side called and a golden tabby cat turned around from talking to a black and red tom. Goldenstar - as Sky presumed - trotted over to them, greeting Sky with a simple bowed head.
“Who have you brought back?” The golden tabby asked, a teasing tint laced in his voice. The brown tabby cat beside Sky purred with laughter for a moment.
“We never did ask for your name!” The cat exclaimed, shaking her head. “I’m Hawkwish! This is Poppyfeather, Flyspots and Willowsplash.” Each of the cats Sky had met bowed their heads slightly in acknowledgement.
“I’m Sky,” he told them confidently. “I love your camp.”
Goldenstar erupted with purring and Sky instantly knew that these cats took great pride in their… Clan. For a moment he lingered on a thought. Could he possibly be one of those cats?
“Would you like to join us?” Goldenstar asked, glancing around at the camp as other cats perked up. “Join FallenClan?”
Sky looked around, hesitation creeping up on him. He’d never really had a permanent home, not for many moons at least. His eyes lingered on the brown tabby and tortoiseshell on either side of him, who’d been overwhelmingly welcoming. Doubt faded away to excitement as he nodded. “I would be honoured.”
And so, that night after being named Skyfrost, the grey and white cat sat by the Clan’s entrance, keeping vigil. Something about the quiet night in FallenClan’s camp felt different compared to the nights he usually spent hiding somewhere.
It felt like home.
A/N: HEY BEETLE! Is this the second fic I’ve submitted in one day? ………… yes. I hope you enjoyed!!! This new wheel of names is my saviour. Oh and I don’t think I ever mentioned this, because I’m Australian, some words may be spelt different as I use British-English not American-English or what ever we call it. Have a good day/night!!! :D
(beetle notes: THIS IS SO GOOD YESSSSS,,, i love seeing Skyfrost get the attention he deserves)
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Transformers: Mosaic #557 - "Loyalty Rewarded"
Originally posted on November 15th, 2010
Story - Zac DeBoard
Art - Kei Tomoe
Letters - Franco Villa
Edits - Juan Pablo Osorio
“Chopper” design - Andy Short
Whirl design - Paul Vromen
deviantART | Seibertron | TFW2005 | BotTalk
Later revised and annotated for Transformers: The Lost Seasons
wada sez: The last of three Sunbow-version-of-Animated-character strips. On the Machine Wars Starscream color scheme used for Scrash, DeBoard said on Seibertron: “I believe Scrash's coloring was a way to differentiate between he and Skyquake (even though they were pretty much consdered to be the same character), as well as being a shout out to MW Screamer.” Onslaught’s seeming death here appears to be an choice, as he’s alive and well later in the Sunbow timeline—but Cattleprod points out that the Combaticons first appeared reduced to personality components after a failed coup, so presumably this is intended to lead into that, with Onslaught just heavily damaged but alive. The blue character is an OC based on the Diaclone helicopter who, in later official sources, would variously be given the names "Fumes", "Rotorbolt", and "Skyklik"—the creators of The Lost Seasons apparently used a common fan-name at the time, "Chopper". I've tagged him as Rotorbolt, because of the Wreckers connection. On the strip’s ending, DeBoard said: “Personally, I love ol Luggy and I just assume that while his body may have been destoyed, his spark survived....like they put it in a machine like they have a Garrus 9 or something.” He explained the strip’s plotting as follows: “Again, this is just "in my head" but Megs was probably obsessed with The Autobots on The Ark (at least for the moment) and didnt bother to take attendance, so to speak, and therefore didn't notice Lugnut. Another thing to keep in mind is...we were kinna working within a set continuity and trying to fit stories and characters where we can. Obviously Lugnut wasnt in G1 originally so it's a tricky thing to do. I just kinna thought it was a pretty neat way to introduce him and explain his "absence" from the show. Believe me, I try to take all of this stuff into account when I write, but if I overthink it, I'd never get anything written! Hehe. As for the faces of the "transplanted characters. It seems to be harder to translate the facial features of the TFA bots into a G1 style (for instance, I felt Lockdown's face in the Drift mini was just horrific), but I think Lugnut came out very well in this. [...] We are floating around some more stories featuring G1 Lugnut so hopefully he will be fleshed out more in later stories. Personally, I hope to bring his personality closer to the fanatic he was in TFA, which is what made him one of my favorite characters. With the space limitations of the Mosaic, we really didn't get to do a lot of it (though it was more prevalant in the script).” This strip evolved from an earlier script of DeBoard's, which went unused: “Unfortunately, I realized there was already a Mosaic piece essentially telling this same story. This one however was set in the G1 universe”—I’ve reproduced the full text below, alongside the usual Italian translation. The earlier strip with a similar idea was “False Saviour”, in case you were wondering.
Before I was little more than a thug. Making a living by robbing those less fortunate than me. Feeling I was destined for a greater purpose, I had applied numerous times to the Cybertron Military Academy only due be denied due to what the Head of the Academy deemed was an aggressive attitude.
This would haunt me in my future endeavors as I could find little work.
Eventually I found the Arena.
It was there than I unleashed my aggression and anger, my strength was unparalelled and I became known as the Kaon Crusher.
And, as quickly as I embraced my newfound outlet, I soon found myself longing for more.
Was this all I was meant for? Mindlessly destroying mechs for little more than a thrill?
Blastburn lies defeated at my feet and I feel nothing. I walk away, feeling just as beaten as my foe.
"Your designation Lugnut?"
I nod.
"It is."
"My commander has had an optic on you for over a Vorn. He has seen your indifference and longing."
"What do you or your commander know of me?!"
"He believes he can provide you with a sense of purpose--a new life, if you will."
The blue mech (Soundwave) has my attention.
"And what do you call your glorious leader" I say to him mockingly.
"His name is...Megatron."
At the end would be a close up of Lugnut's single red optic, with an image or a shadow of G1 Megs in it.
#Transformers#Transformers Mosaic#Maccadam#Sunbow Transformers#Transformers: The Lost Seasons#Zac DeBoard#Kei Tomoe#Franco Villa#Juan Pablo Osorio#Andy Short#Paul Vromen#official creator#Lugnut#Skyquake#Archforce#Onslaught#Megatron#Starscream#Roadbuster#Springer#Whirl#Rotorbolt
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G Witch Onscreen Text: Episode 12
And so, we have reached part 13 in my attempt to transcribe and discuss the text that appears on monitors and screens in G Witch (and talk about stuff I think is cool)
This is the Episode 12, the season 1 finale: "Keep Marching on Instead of Running Off."
<< Click Here to go back to Episode 11
Oh, but you'll have to change before you can join me under the cut.
You have to wear a normal spacesuit while reading this post...
Like episode 11, this episode is actually very light on text, (for obvious reasons..) so I'll also spend some more time discussing little things in the episode I think are interesting.
The text on the panel for the EV (Elevator) reads
C BLOCK
No. C - 6
The EV is arriving shortly.
It also has 3 symbols on the bottom, with one crossed out. It's hard to know what they mean, but my best guess is:
- Communication (Which is currently unusable due to the attack)
- Multi-Directional (As in, isn't a one way elevator, can go back and forth)
- Capacity (In this case, multiple people can use it at once.)
Also, in this scene, Miorine talks about "opening the bulkhead from the control center." What she means is she wants to find the control center so she can open the giant wall that separated her and Suletta. The first thing that both girls thought of doing when they were separated was rescuing the other.
Also, also, the fact that C Block still has some semblance of power despite having been fully disconnected from the rest of the plant must mean that every individual block must have some sort of reserve power system in case something like this happens.
I wonder how expensive this place was to build....
I really like the scene where we see Sophie activate Permet Score 4, because I think they put so much focus on it in order to put a lot of things we've seen earlier into perspective.
Up until now, we've only seen 3 characters (other than Eri but she doesn't count) activate Permet Score 4: Nadim in the prologue, El4n in episode 6, and now Sophie.
I think the first thing we can see when we compare these instances is how, broadly, Gundam Pilots have generally been made to become more resilient to Permet in the 21 years since Vanadis.
As far as we can tell, Nadim was probably one of the most skilled Gundam Pilots at Vanadis. (Other than Eri but she's like. cheating.)
Even acknowledging that he hadn't piloted a Gundam in some time (He says as much when he first activates Permet 3), he's still incredibly adept at controlling GUND Bits and nearly singlehandedly holds off the attack by Cathedra. (Thought Wendy's efforts must also definitely be acknowledged.)
When Wendy starts suffering from Permet exposure, Nadim tells her that she can't raise her score any higher
We never see or hear exactly which score she's at, but her Gundam is deactivated by the Antidote, which only works up to Score 3. So she's either at 2 - 3, and she's clearly suffering its effects harder than Nadim, who's also at 3 at this point.
But despite Nadim's clear adeptness at Piloting the Lfrith and his much stronger resilience to Permet, when he activates Score 4, he dies nigh instantly. He doesn't survive longer than a minute.
When Gundams had first been developed, Score 3 was considered the absolute limit, both in terms of what a human could bear and what Gundam tech could handle.
We can see this reflected on the Lfrith itself. When first launched, and up to Score 3, Lfrith's body appears completely normal.
But when he activates Score 4, its entire body glows bright red as opposed to just its GUND components. A sign that its bearing a load it can't handle.
And when Nadim finally dies, we can see its body is also horribly scarred with Permet Burns.
Sophie's Permet 4 scene is a showcase of how Gundam Tech has evolved in the 21 years since Vanadis.
When Sophie activates Permet 4, she's pushing up against the human limit. Her heart is pounding so fast and so hard we can hear it over the music. She says she can't breathe and might even throw up, and unlike El4n, she's not an Enhanced Person. She's entirely unaugmented, but unlike Nadim, she lives.
Gundam Pilots have become more resilient since Vanadis, but also of note is that they've also gotten younger. We don't know the ages of Nadim, Wendy, and Elnora, but they're all clearly adults. In fact, we only ever see Adults piloting Gundams in the prologue. When Prospera realizes Eri reached Layer 33, she's horrified, and I wouldn't be surprised in part because a child piloting a Gundam is just something that had never been done before.
But now, Gundams are piloted almost EXCLUSIVELY by young people. Younger people are raised and trained and experimented on at earlier and earlier ages because it seems that, for some reason, they are just better at being able to handle them.
The tech has also improved much since then. Whenever Lfrith Ur reaches score 4, that device on its shoulder unfurls and activates, and retracts when it goes back under. the Ur and Thorn were built off of the pre-production Lfrith models, and in order to get around its Score limitations, they just added an extra Permet Processing unit to its back to bear the extra load.
El4n is a special case, and his reaction to Score 4 in comparison to Nadim and Sophie stands as a testament to the effectiveness of Bel's Artificial Nervous System. At Score 4, El4n acts more like he's under the symptoms an unenhanced person would experience at Score 3.
All that suffering just to reduce the permet load by 1. How sad.
Anyway, the EMERGENCY EXIT Suletta uses is labaled as an EVACUATION PASSAGE.
It also has the same 3 symbols as on the elevator. If we try and apply the same labeling method as I used on the elevator, then..
-Communication (Offline)
-Direction - One Way
-Capacity - 1 person.
The direction and Capacity make sense, but the communication is a little dubious? Maybe that symbol designates if it leads to an exit or something....
Normally, when Miorine refers to her dad, she calls him "Kusoyaji," which is a portmanteau of "Kuso" (a general swear word usually meaning 'damn' or 'shit'), and "oyaji" (which is a word for father) Calling him a terrible dad, but in this scene after he protects her and she sees that he's critically wounded, she shouts "Otou-san!" instead, which is a more common/respectful word to use for your father. This is localized into English as having Miorine usually call him a "Lousy Father," or something similar, but in this scene she just calls him "Dad"
We also learn a little more about Notrette in this scene, as when Delling tells Miorine to choose the best option of survival and leave him, he says it's what Notrette would do, and that they'd both decided at some point that if anything happened, one of them had to survive in order to raise her.
It's not much, but it seems that Notrette was a very logically minded person, who always looked toward the future in her decisions. I wouldn't doubt that Delling tried to save her, but left without her at her own insistence.
Sometimes I feel as though this scene is paralleling that incident in a way we can't know, and Miorine managing to save Delling here implies that if Delling had tried and not ran away, he could have saved Notrette. But that's just speculation on my part.
There's no real way to prove this, (other than the fact that their voices sound similar) but I've always believed that the closeup of this DOF member we see when they enter the plant is the same DOF member that Suletta kills at the end of the episode.
When Vim launches in the Dilanza Sol, he comments that he worked his way up the corporate ladder by "personally claiming his rivals' heads." It's most assuredly a figure of speech, but um, well.
Like father like son.
When Guel launches in the Desultor, he tries to communicate to the Dilanza Sol, but remember, the comms are jammed, so it returns an error.
After the deed has been done, the network begins reactivating, and we see NETWORK ONLINE appear on Guel's monitor.
This is our first sign that the DOF are starting to run out of time.
I think a lot about this scene. Maybe not in the way you're supposed to think about it though.
I just can't shake this idea that Prospera intentionally waited for one of the soldiers to be right in front of Suletta before killing them. She and Godoy had been standing there the whole time, on both sides of the hall. Surely there were better times to have attacked them than when they were right in front of Suletta.
Maybe I'm not giving her enough credit but wouldn't it make sense? She needs Suletta to be okay with the idea of killing someone. Wouldn't seeing her mother do it in order to save her life be perfect for that? Prospera barely comforts her afterward either. She immediately explains to her that if she hadn't done it, Suletta might have been killed, and that fighting can save everyone.
And of course, it's obvious, but I just love the symbolism in this shot. It's so good. Suletta stepping out of the darkness and crossing the line, led by her mother's blinding light, onto the bloody path. It's so good. Such a good fucking scene. Grrggrhgrh
The music that plays during this fight between Suletta and Sophie is titled AERIAL REBUILD
youtube
If you haven't already, you should give it a listen. It's genuinely one of my favorite tracks in the entire OST, top 3 at least, and we don't hear much of it in this scene.
During their duel, Sophie calls Aerial REBUILD's face "scary" and says she "liked her better before."
Aerial is no longer pretending to be a machine made for silly school duels, that line has been crossed, and its true purpose is beginning to be revealed.
The truly terrifying thing about REBUILD's GUND Bit Cannon is that we never see it at full capacity. In fact, this one time we see it, it's at its WEAKEST strength. All mobile suits used in Asticassia have a regulation program installed that limits the energy output of their beam weapons. (With this restriction, all energy weapons only produce green colored beams.) Despite being off Asticassia for months now, Aerial NEVER had that program uninstalled, so its Beam Weapons are still at their lowest output. And, Despite That, the beam produced by this cannon is...
This Powerful. It's so powerful, that when Aerial uses it, you can see it have to activate its back thrusters to counteract the recoil.
It's SO powerful, that it completely melts the legs of a Desultor who just happened to GRAZE it ever so slightly.
Not to talk about future episodes here, but I actually cannot stress that it is genuinely a miracle that Miorine forcefully shut Aerial down in this moment in episode 17.
Because, and I mean this with zero exaggeration, Suletta would have ERASED GUEL and SPLIT THE SCHOOL IN HALF if she released the charge on this god damn canon.
Lord In Heaven, Prospera.
TEXT:
SUBJECT: Business Correspondence
FROM: Peil Technologies
To: ELAN CERES
HIGHEST PRIORITY
An attack has been made on Plant Quetta by the terrorist orginization 'Dawn of Fold'
2 unidentified MS using GUND FORMAT were confirmed.
We will contact you later with further instructions.
This is the email 5lan receives from Peil after the DOF leave. They got that information quick, huh? I wonder how...
We also see that he only ever receives Business Correspondence emails from Peil and Course Schedule updates from Asticassia in his inbox. He doesn't have any friends.
And with that, we have completed Ep 12, the entirety of Season 1! Wow...what a ride it has been thus far...
Thank you for coming on this journey with me...!
Whatever happens next, we'll face it together, won't we?
Episode 13. >>
Masterpost.
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Dirty Old Money
A Mafia AU
Pairing: Accountant!Rowoon x Mafia boss reader (Female, practically an OC)
Genre: suggestive
Word count: 1,1k
Warning: bad language, mentions of selling drugs (no explicit consume).
Bunus song rec: Up Late, by Gemini
Summary: Rowoon is not afraid of dealing with dirty money but being with you makes his heart skip some beats.
Author note: this is all about sexual tension (which I actually love) but if you all need more than this, in part two, let me know.
Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.
Seokwoo was habituated to submitting to their excentricities. Giving weird, extravagant commands was part of being on the highest level of the food chain. The crest had a new figure, which finally gave him a thrill. Seokwoo has been in that life for five years now, he had been obeying a graybeard since he started on it. In any case, the new boss was still trying to figure the business out and the accountant was absolutely necessary during such process. Their wealth was ridiculous and there were numerous people to pay, to charge for, to destroy, whatever. She must need a daily dose of painkillers or maybe anything harder, he wondered.
That enormous mansion looked even more oppressive when you get inside. It was Seokwoo first time there, he was left right in front of one of the largest stairs he had ever witnessed. That was not a mansion, that was an actual palace. The handrails made of plaster gave the place an air of Greek mythology that pleasured the man's eyes. He climbed slowly and with a cocky smile. Meanwhile, the cold breeze messed his hair just enough to make him look less uptight.
"Lady is at the indoor pool" a well-mannered housekeeper notified him as soon as he reached the landing.
"Thank you very much. Where may I wait for her?" The accountant calmly asked.
"She is waiting for you there, sir. I'm guiding you toward the pool" She made a head sign and walked.
Seokwoo followed her expectantly, his breathing got irregular and he was afraid of his own appearance. That woman always caused him weird feelings that he could not name. Yet, he could not help wanting more. "fuck, fuck" he repeated inside his mind in hopes the curses could make him feel less flustered.
The immense room where he was conducted to was limited by dark glass walls. He felt the air prevenient from the heated waters hit his face as his eyes looked for the boss. Seokwoo was curious and she was nowhere to be found. The housekeeper left without him noticing, more silent than anything.
There was the boss, nonetheless. You emerged from the underwaters to face him. "Right on time" you murmured to yourself at the sight of that well-dressed guy staring at you. Nothing could be better.
"Thanks for coming, Rowoon" you said after wiping the excess of water from your face with your bare hands.
"Always glad to help, Miss [X]."
"There's a table there, see? You may sit there and open the documents I need to study today".
He assented like a trained puppy and you smirked. The fact that the man was 190 cm tall and still was at your beck and call fascinated you. Maybe you made a point of taking the lead in your father's business only for the sake of meeting him.
You climbed to the deck while Seokwoo setled what he needed on the table. He propped his Macbook on top of the furniture, made of dark glass and sat on a leather-covered cushion. That was more comfortable than it looked. His nostrils jerked as he tried to maintain his breathing healthy.
If only he looked at you as you dried your body. You decide to get closer wearing your bathrobe open. You picked that one-piece swimsuit especially for him: classy and not too revealing, just enough to make him want more. There was a loop that led to your neck, which was quite sensual.
"I know this is not the best place to have a business meeting with you but I'm trying something new. Something about positive reinforcement, you know.
You wanted him, that was sure, but scaring him would not be the right path.
He stared at you while you dragged a chair for yourself and that was evident that he almost forgot to answer.
"No problems, Miss X, I can do whatever is fine for you"
"Whatever" you repeated thoughtfully.
Once more you were by his side, facing those boring Excel spreadsheets. That was a different one, of course. Last time, you promised Rowoon you would study the company obligations until your next meeting. You were not the type to break promises.
"These are the most recent purveyors. Your father- I mean, Mr. X was very interested in those new 'substances'."
The way he avoided speaking 'drugs' was so adorable. Among so many of his traits, the way he chose his words was maybe your favorite. The said substance's name was described right on the screen nonetheless.
"Did he make a good choice?" you were genuinely interested but paid attention to your own voice in order to sound teasing in some way.
"He did. You can see that in this other spreadsheet"
"Great" you smirk biting your fingertip. "Can I ask you something, Rowoon?"
"Anything, lady." he nodded right away. His eyes laid on yours but that was only for a second. You still had a finger between your lips and apparently, that pleasured him.
"Do you think I'll do well regarding the administration of the Company?"
"You are absolutely capable, lady."
His hand softly played with his tie as he tried to control his heartbeat. One more time. You tilted your head and bit your bottom lip.
"But..." you pondered. " I'm a woman. Isn't it an additional concern?"
He gulped.
"I understand, lady. It's usually harder for women and I'm truly sorry for that. Still, you're not a regular woman.
His answer could not be more satisfactory. You uncrossed your legs but was not a calculated gesture. You were feeling hotter, more than expected. That could not be the heater, that thing was coming from inside you.
"Shit" you whispered.
The way the accountant's eyes wisened condemned him.
"Is it too hot for you too?"
"I'm good" he affirmed as his motion said otherwise. His hand loosened his tie right after he voiced that scandalous lie.
"Whatever" you spit, then slid your arms off the robe "Why ain't I a regular woman?"
He took a deep breath and massaged the nape of his neck. He seemed to be struggling against a massive force. Desire hits like a storm.
"The way you make me feel is not normal" he confessed.
Your breath too became difficult. You strengthened your back as if it was not already rigid.
"Do you wanna go away from me?"
"Not at all". Seokwoo could barely close his mouth.
"Do you wanna come closer to me?"
At that question, he dragged his chair backward and stood up, you followed him without any thought. He was clearly split between running away and pulling you against his body. Therefore you reached for his hand and did not stop your robe from dropping on the deck. Now you were exposed and not afraid of loosening him. That was ride or die, you needed that man.
He carefully leaned toward you, closer to your ear and asked:
"Can we study those sheets another day?"
#sf9 scenarios#sf9 imagines#rowoon scenario#rowoon imagine#sf9 smut#rowoon smut#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop scenario#sf9#rowoon
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Hello,I absolutely adore your work! I have been binding books for a few years now (mostly scanlated manga that hasn't been licensed,and some pdf books that are too expensive for me to afford or too rare to buy). I came across your work a few months ago,and absolutely relish your posts. I was wondering if I could ask for some advice?
Do you print your books at home,or use a printing service? Because they're such massive amounts of pages if I want to do a full series...once I printed a 24 volume series and my printer reached its page limit,and I had to get it serviced to reset it😭(I know a code can be bought and used,if it happens again I intend to do that but I'd like to avoid if possible). If you use a service can you recommend any,or any general advice for finding one?
And if you print them at home, could you give some advice on how to print Quattro or snaller books? I just use Acrobat (older versions) to print in booklet setting to get a half page sized book,I would really appreciate some knowledge on how to go smaller (and save some paper)
It's okay if you would rather not answer though,or if you want to take a while,I completely understand if that's the case!
Oh my gosh, you can absolutely ask anything you want, this is my favorite hobby to enable people for! (I LOVE that you're doing this for scanlations, also! My manga hyperfixation is mostly dormant right now, but once my brain locked on to archival work for fan translations of cnovels, I immediately started anxiously circling this idea like a dog whining because it can't fit all the toys in its mouth at once, so I'm delighted to hear someone has this interest!)
I print my books at home. I've considered using a printing service for some special cases, like large paper my machine can't handle, but it was ultimately expensive enough, and my personal needs were off enough (I do high-volume, fast-turnaround work) that I've never actually followed through. I'm fortunate that a few years before I picked up this hobby, I got a color laser duplex printer (canon mf cdw644, iirc) as a gift, and it's filled all my needs beautifully, so I never had to look for another way to tackle the issue.
It is still very expensive to make as many books as I do, I've spent unconscionable amounts of money just on toner, but the math shakes out pretty clearly in my favor. Now, an issue that has occurred to me for more graphic prints would be that if a comic page has a lot of hard blacks, I'm not sure how much it would take before it was cost-effective to go elsewhere. I'm not sure if a point like that does exist, but it's a question I'd be interested in knowing an answer to!
(Laser printers tend to be more expensive up front, but cheaper to use in the long term. I do know one person who owns an ink TANK printer and sings its praises, but those can be harder to find for home usage)
One thing that I'm not sure would apply to your printer is that for big jobs, I *think* my computer and printer run out of memory and it messes up not just the current print job, but future ones I queue up after it, and switching the printer off only makes it worse. My pages start looping back to the beginning of the print job and starting over and the only fix is to reset my print spooler in my system services directory and ruthlessly cancel jobs until my print queue stays empty. I can get around that by printing smaller sets of pages at a time (1-50, then 51-100, etc), so something like that might also help coax your printer into cooperating!
And ahhhh, yes, small books! I'm a HUGE fan, I rarely print anything larger than quarto these days. I use a free tool developed by other fan binders, which I'll link right here
https://momijizukamori.github.io/bookbinder-js/
It has a lot of settings that I haven't explored in too much depth, but I use it to impose almost everything I make. There are layouts for the straightforward divide-in-half imposition (half-letter, quarto, octavo, etc), but towards the bottom there are wacky layouts, like six sheets per side of paper. There might be resources somewhere in renegadepublishing that go into more depth, but like I said, my experimentation has been relatively bland XD In general, I recommend double checking the files you get from it for whether you want to flip on the long or the short edge, but other than that, I've found the tool very intuitive and easy to use!
I hope that helps!!! I'm always delighted to help people out with any of this stuff :D
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(since you reblogged the bother me with asks things, i’m sending you an ask instead of texting)
i feel like biscuits shouldn’t be allowed to have stuff in them
(there’s context for this but i think it’s funnier without)
The following assumes you are talking about the American biscuit and not the British biscuit. I have opinions on both, but the latter is for a different time / ask.
Broadly speaking, I agree. There is something so fundamentally good about a buttermilk biscuit or any other well made plain biscuit that further additions take away from it. Also the plain biscuit is so versatile! Want a savory snack -- eat with savory things. What a sweet snack -- eat with honey. Additions are limitations in this case.
That said, I think I would still consider a biscuit that had a reasonable amount of cheese, herbs, or other small what not (e.g. bacon) a biscuit. These seem very reasonable in the less structured drop biscuit (which, honestly, is biscuit in mostly just name -- delicious never the less).
I think the tipping point is when one passes from flaky and airy goodness to something more like a scone or short cake (which is what drop biscuits are closer to in my opinion). Too much of any inclusion makes that biscuit structure harder to achieve and you end up with a still delicious crumbly snack. Either it will be too dense or unlayered and just fall apart (I have had blue berry "biscuits" like this and they were amazing...but definitely closer to short cakes I have made. I should make blue berry short cakes...with compote...in the summer...)
This line of thought did make me wonder where the classic biscuit came from, and this was a very interesting read from KA flour. From this, it makes sense that early on inclusions in biscuits were either not worth the effort, increased the chance of spoilage, or was a waste of ingredients. Even after the development of leavening agents, I wonder if the pre-established notion of a biscuit was too solidified and versatile.
Another area I didn't have time to explore was what meal were biscuits longest associated with? My guess is savory with dinner. The rise of the sweet "biscuit" would be something to examine. Maybe whenever fresh fruit was more accessible.
The Red Lobster Cheddar Biscuits came in 1992 and probably falls into the category of drop biscuits -- so not really biscuits, but close.
This is long and rambling, but the result of a 20 min exploration during lunch....
(I am super curious to know what led to this question....)
#biscuit opinions#This was more involved than I expected#But the history of biscuits and the opinions of north and south on biscuits was fascinating#Especially how the types of accessible flours shaped opinions#soymimikyu answers#food history#food
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