#was wearing a bright orange coat and green hat
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Random but I just realised I can access colour history
I think this section is trying to tell me something but I’m not sure what
#sp creek#south park#pattern recognition goes crazy tho#today I was walking to class and someone in the distance#was wearing a bright orange coat and green hat#I started hyperventilating#oml#I need help
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A Far Out Look at Gaby Teller's Costumes in the Man from U.N.C.L.E.
The fashion in this movie is amazing, let's talk about specifically what Gaby is wearing and what it tells us about her character.
We meet Gaby working as a mechanic in East Berlin. So obviously the this the least put-together we ever see her. I couldn't get a good picture of her jumpsuit but it seems pretty standard. The scarf in her hair is rather fashionable, hinting at what is to come.
Female representation: 10/10 It looks mostly like what a real mechanic would wear, with nothing to emphasize that she is a female mechanic (other than her nice scarf).
Practicality: 10/10 Presumably the most practical thing we see anyone wear in this movie
This is one of the dresses she tries on while getting under cover. I wish we had gotten more of a montage of her different outfits but this one is pretty fun. It is a vast improvement over the one Solo had her wear first. The orange coordinates with what she wears in the climax, which is fun. And perhaps a nod to the fact that she is playing a part here as much as she will be then.
The dresses she wears going forward are all of the same style, chosen to be both 60s and modern. Watch this video by Cinema Cities for more on the choices made for the costuming. As is discussed there, the choices for Gaby are young and fresh, with bright colors. Geometric patterns, mod shape, an emphasis on legs instead of the hourglass. She stands out from the other leading lady, whose costuming is very complex - doing the most with her hair, make-up, accessories. Gaby, on the other hand, tends to wear earrings and a ring or a bracelet.
Female representation: 10/10 She looks fantastic, even for this short scene in the boutique, and is a spy being outfitted to go undercover. This scene establishes what her style is without deciding to ogle her at any point.
Practicality: 9/10 Compared to the jumpsuit, it's obviously less practical but it's pretty great in general.
Now undercover in Rome, Gaby wears a white dress with an overcoat that we also see worn with the other dresses. Both are very stylish and fit the silhouette that was popular in the 60s. As far as being fully white goes, that makes sense for a scene in which she is out for a walk with her assigned fiancé, making sure that their cover is convincing (even when they are mugged). White emphasizes her status as a pawn in the game right now (as does the shape of the outfit), as well as implying a woman in need of rescue. It is effective way to trick both their marks and her fellow spies into considering her to be helpless.
Female representation: 10/10 Still fantastic, gonna break my rating system. She looks good but is not eye-candy despite her role in the film.
Practicality: 9/10 The coat doesn't seem especially warm but the ensemble is certainly practical for what she is doing.
She wears this dress to the races, including a large hat, to meet with Uncle Rudi as well as Alexander Vinciguerra. It is her first job as a spy and this dress reflects that. Instead of pure white, most of it is green, a color generally associated with duplicity (like a snake). The scene includes Gaby doing quite a bit of angling to move the mission forward, which involves playing up what Solo and Kuryakin believe she is there to do as well as her own agenda, so while she isn't exactly a double agent, she is certainly deep in the plot.
Female representation: 10/10 These are all great, what can I say?
Practicality: 9/10 As above, perhaps not as useful as her jumpsuit, especially considering she does work on a car in this scene. But it certainly serves her purposes.
I couldn't find a photo, but I couldn't leave out her charming pajamas. She wears these in two scenes with Illya Kuryakin, when they are hanging out in their hotel room. The first night, she insists he dance with her and the second night she appears to betray him. So the outfit itself is mostly grey, since we can't be sure what her motivation is (until later in the movie). Plus they look like great pajamas, especially for being undercover and having to share a room with a stranger.
Female representation: 10/10 Some of the best pajamas I've seen a lady wear on film, especially for a spy movie.
Practicality: 10/10 They seem to be very practical, especially for wrestling.
And here is the showstopper. Gaby wears this for the climax of the film, through a lot of twists and turns. It is the same silhouette as the others, though the neckline is a bit more formal. Following the theme of the last dress, she started in white and now appears to have added a lot of cover on top of the white. The pattern is also reminiscent of camouflage. This makes sense because now is when her status as an agent all along is revealed, as she appears to betray first Kuryakin and Solo and then deceives the Vinciguerras along with her father. Again, she has minimal accessories in contrast to Victoria and she sets herself apart from everyone else in this outfit as she does so in the movie as well.
Female representation: 10/10 For a double-agent and/or damsel in distress, she is very well dressed indeed
Practicality: 9/10 It works well enough but I'm sure she wishes she had something else to wear when they are going off road through the rain.
The final shot, where the team is now put all together. The show features just the gentlemen and it's great to have her be at the center (the lack of a sequel is devastating). She is back to wearing a white dress, now that her true role in the story has been revealed and she made a significant contribution to the cause in the process.
Female representation: 10/10 Again, it is fantastic, especially for the female member of the spy team
Practicality: 9/10 Same as the others, I daresay
Want to hear more of my thoughts about female characters and fashion? Check out my other costume reviews or my YouTube channel (episode on Gaby out now!)
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Until Our Secrets Drift Us Apart [8]
Y'all this is horny
I don't sorry but still, fair warning!
Viktor x Fem!Reader---Modern AU/Marriage of Convenience--- 4.9K ---NSFW
> MASTERLIST
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Summary: Upon the surprising death of the CEO of Daxer Corp., the battle for the presidential chair began with unexpected violence. Threaten to lose everything you’ve been working on during your entire life; it’s time you must find a desperate solution to grasp the control over your part of the emporium, and even your own freedom. Which better idea than solidifying your subsidiary's future than ally with the rising tech company, HexTech? And oh, what a special type of alliance it would be…
Tags: Not-So-Forced Proximity| Marriage of Convenience| Strangers to Lovers| Domestic Fluff| Post-Wedding| Crushes | Fake Dating| NSFW Tags: Nipple Play, Grinding, Semi-Public Sex |
Chapter Summary: With winter arrives new blooming feelings that complicate the situation.
What is real, and what is an act?
8: Lover or Stranger
Cold wind flew across the boulevard carrying the winter, which made the living room window mist when Viktor stayed too late at night scribbling away at the coffee table. This time of the year was always rather grim, with dirty snow and the lead sky with no signs of sunlight—it made his bones ache, all his energy drained.
A pain resonated deep within his chest at passing by the one-level houses back to the apartment, with their porches lit gold by the streetlamps like a lighthouse guiding the family home.
While they sat idly on their couches, eyes crinkling with smiles and sounds of laughter echoing by, so fleeting Viktor couldn't even dream about grasping them between his freezing fingers.
Loneliness was a norm by now, as kids didn’t like a child that couldn’t run just like teenagers were too poignant with their words for Viktor to try. He became a boy—a man—between machines.
No matter how hard they beeped and hissed, with their wires breathing life, there was still a void where the sound of an interrupted conversation ought to be.
Thick as the shell was, it started to crack by the time he met Jayce Talis, which made it easier to let the walls down once he got himself in the middle of your life without much of an afterthought.
He started to turn on the AC and closed the door of his bedroom to envelop himself in the warmth that would be stolen once he got inside his car toward work.
This year would’ve been the same, lethargic season it had always been; with the same faded shades of grey and blue he sometimes felt being knitted inside his chest like a blanket too heavy to hold, to even stand up too much.
And yet, he found flashes of colors peeking beneath the enormous layer of grey, black, white, and blue of his everyday heating shirts and robust jackets. Bold pinks and bright oranges beneath your coats, red scarfs that matched the color of your lipstick.
He even started to wear those matching, colorful gloves and hats Jayce not-so-jokingly had bought for last winter’s festival Viktor couldn’t assist due to the ache in his leg.
The living room was decorated in vibrant greens from all the plants you have moved inside since the first snowfall.
Viktor had been at a loss for words once he entered the house earlier than usual—a custom he was taking slowly, unconsciously gazing at the clock once the sun started to dip between the skyscrapers.
Rio was perched in one of the swings Viktor hung from the ceiling, swaying side to side while you were humming, hands busy with the honeysuckle you were trying to perch by the window.
"What are you doing?" he asked, worried that your precarious stance on the stool faded once your head turned toward his voice.
"I'm putting them inside," you huffed, jumping out of the seat. Your fingers were covered with black earth, and the living room was a concoction of at least six different essences of plants mixed with newly made dinner. “They will die in the cold, you know.” You went toward him with a small wisteria whose leaves were starting to get yellow after being in contact with the snow.
Viktor blinked. He barely had the energy to walk from work back to the house, and you were bothering to move all his plants inside the living room.
“I didn’t know you like plants.”
You shrugged, one of the sides of your sweater falling from your shoulder.
"I prefer trees, but these are cute too," you chuckled, putting the wisteria on a coffee table near the balcony. “Trees are more resilient than flowers, but they grow slower.”
“Hmm, yes, that’s true. I’d say that resilience comes from patience,” Viktor said, standing next to you while helping you thread a money plant in the wall over the TV. "Everything that makes you wait is worth for.”
He gazed at you, memories recounting the sensation of your lips against his, how his hands found purchase in the soft skin of your waist.
Yes. Albeit Viktor wasn’t sure if he had the privilege of patience in the actual circumstances.
The least he could do was seize the time presented in front of him before it would slip away alongside those rudimentary sketches of prototypes and hurriedly written to-do lists Viktor ended up locking in a bottom drawer, fearing that Jayce or you could discover it otherwise—could discover it before he’d solved his problem.
Thus take his chances he did, even when he didn't wish to assist this snobby soirée, knowing there would be barely any seats for him to rest, without considering prickling pride of you discovering his diminishing health.
He wished many things from you; pity wasn’t one of them.
It wasn’t like he didn’t catastrophize every once in a silent night, but rather that his mind had started to create a sanctuary, a small pocket of possibilities in which you wouldn’t mind—that you’d be one, maybe the one, not to commiserated him for who he was.
An outsider.
“Vikky!” you called him, fighting among the crowd to make your way next to him. “I found you!” You beamed, looking so breathtaking with your olive dress outlined in golden details, like a nature goddess he could worship any day.
Focus, Viktor.
“I, eh, apologize for vanishing," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks red once your fingers touched his while taking the delicate steam off the glass. "I didn't wish to interrupt your conversation.”
It wasn't that, but the sensation of staying at the edge of a precipice, where a false step and then someone else would push him into oblivion only because he couldn't stand on such treacherous ground—not like you. Or like Jayce.
He watched how you both climbed further and further away that at some point you wouldn’t hear his voice anymore.
“Could you talk with Jayce?”
Between his grim thoughts, Viktor smiled despite himself.
“I did,” he lied. The chargeable air conditioners they were developing to donate to orphanages, shelters, and other organizations could have been discussed with an email.
Part of him was ready to justify. That he was there because he’s your husband, and his job was to back you up. Thought Viktor couldn’t lie to himself so blatantly, he was too curious to see you out in an ambient familiar for you, as he couldn't think of many opportunities he had to get closer to you, fear still pouring out his heart, nerves on edge just waiting for your backtrack. For your regret.
It was a known feeling by now—so many nights looking at the ceiling inside his bedroom while a thousand possibilities passed by, almost any of them auspicious.
What did you think about him? Why did you kiss him that day, when nobody was watching?
“Are you alright?” you muttered, your voice driving him away from the endless spiral of allegations. "I'll give you a taste of my wine to ease you if you want."
“I don’t think getting intoxicated would be the best option if we wished to walk out of this with our reputation intact.”
Especially with all the dirty looks you both were receiving; if it was because of Viktor’s presence in the very selective party or because you've made more enemies in the last few weeks of your last public appearance, he wasn’t sure.
Especially with how he would react once his shame was washed away by the liquor. As now, Viktor found it incredibly difficult to tear his gaze away from how the soft fabric of your dress hugged and fell around all the right places from a tailored piece, something like relief flooding his chest once he saw the golden ring on your left hand glimmering against the light of the chandelier.
You were addictive, he dared to say, the same way he had grown needy of discovery and mastery of his craft. He wished to memorize the sensation of your pliant lips molded against his, how you tasted after snacking on fruit from the bowl while he was working in the living room, that the texture of your hair against his palm could get engraved in his memory just like the smell of your shampoo no matter how long you take to return home.
There was a longing under his touch so hard to contain, an ache that soared and reverberated ever since he looked at you waving him in a hurried goodbye as you were being taken away to chat with some guests, only the outline of your backless dress visible before being devoured by the crowd, terse skin glowing against the hue of the chandelier.
He was embarrassed by how much he wished to touch the delicate curve of your back, theorizing already if you'd shivered once his fingers traced along your spine to then dig in the supple skin of your hips.
Your finger was warm against his cold brow for staying too close to the window when you poked the crest between his eyebrows.
“Easy there,” you muttered, standing right in front of him. “You’ll get wrinkles here if you keep frowning.”
Viktor chuckled despite himself. “We’re all going to have wrinkles, my dear. I don’t mind.”
You faked a pout, he was already familiar with the shape of your mouth to notice it; how your bottom lip puffed out and quivered, your eyes widening like those of a puppy—all dramatic flair.
A dramatic scene he didn’t mind one bit. Rather…
“Hmmm,” he hummed, looking around the room for any curious guests stealing glances at you. There wasn’t any, and yet Viktor leaned closer to you to steal a kiss from those pouty lips.
Just like a doting husband shall do.
You smiled against him, the hand that wasn’t grabbing the glass of wine against his chest.
Could you feel how his heartbeat scrambled around because of you?
"You're cold," Viktor said once you had parted, the aftertaste of the pastries you'd been eating still clinging to his tongue like a temptation to challenge him to go for another kiss. And another one, and another. His hand ran up and down the curve of your bare shoulders. "Take this."
His coat was too long and too narrow on the chest for you, albeit in his mind the mere thought of the cloth smelling like you made him brace himself against the chilly current of air filtering through the ajar door of the balcony.
"Thank you," you beamed, rolling up the sleeves to fit the size of your arms. "But I think we can go home now. I've talked with Mel already, and that's the only reason why I came, so…"
“Is that so?” Viktor arched an eyebrow. For some reason, he had always imagined you enjoyed yourself in these kinds of events.
After all, he had seen you in a myriad of them during his years of university assisting galas and banquets as one of late Mrs. Daxer's protégé, in a way.
Even if he was just a piece to show off that wealth's compassion was a thing, Viktor got his eyes trained on your figure navigating through the tide of people surrounding you like an amorph halo as if they were sunflowers and you were the sun.
He never thought he could have a chance to stand so close to your rays, for the world had always taught him he was but an ugly, moribund flower that didn’t have a chance to be part of a bouquet.
So Viktor watched, taking as much as he could—from a distance.
Even now, he could compare the images of the young bachelor student you used to be back then and the businesswoman you had become.
Though your world tried to make you endure, the shine in your eyes persisted yet slightly muted, though now Viktor could observe glimpses of that unrestrained delight every once and then.
Just like when Rio dropped that seed on the bar for you.
Ever so insignificant for others, and yet you had the little seed in a pot inside your room, all protected from the harshness of the season.
How much time had he dedicated to thinking about you in the last few months?
Viktor was afraid of answering because, for the first time in so long, work wasn't the only priority posing on his mind.
“We can go now if you want,” you said, leaning closer to his chest so nobody in the vicinity could hear you. “Besides, it seems it’s about to snow at any moment. Driving could get dangerous.”
Viktor shivered when your hand slid down his arm until stopping in the crook of his elbow with a gentle pat. He wasn't sure if the culpable was the chilly wind blowing at his back from his place tucked between a pillar and the entrance of the lonely balcony.
Before you could pull away, his fingers brushed the reverse of your palm, with him enjoying how your eyes sought his.
“Perhaps you could concede me a dance first?” he heard himself saying, almost deluding himself he just did it in his mind. “Could warm me up before getting out into the cold.”
“I didn’t consider you like to dance. I would’ve asked you to dance first before I went away to talk with potential investors.”
With small steps, Viktor guided you to a corner of the ballroom, the handle of his cane locked in the crook of his elbow so both his hands were free to take you in between his arms.
“I’m not a good dancer,” he said, loathing how his cheeks felt hot after the confession. “But I have great company I wish to spend a moment with.”
“You don’t have to impress me, Viktor.” You put your hand over his left shoulder, feeling the soft patch of his back brace underneath. “I’m not one of those sponsors you need to convince.”
It wasn’t a need, but rather a childish desire.
He cleared his throat, not wishing any kind of improper thoughts to get ahold of his mind.
“Sometimes I forget it. Because you’re still part of this world.”
Your chuckle reverberates against his chest when you lay your cheek over his shoulder, steps matching in a slow and intimate melody.
“I’m not. Not really,” you mumbled, face looking away from his seeking eyes. “A fish being dragged inland is forced to grow legs to walk or else it’ll die. Would you say it belongs on the surface then?"
Viktor swallowed, words slipping out of his brain as he tried to roll them out his tongue. He had never been great at eloquence, which was why Jayce is the face of HexTech and not him.
This wasn’t a pitch sell, though, so he wanted to believe you didn’t expect a well-rehearsed line filled with bland and dishonest words.
“Where do you think you belong?” Where do you think I belong?
“I don’t have many options where to choose from, do I?” You raised your head to lock eyes with him. “The orphanage, without a family name, or with a stolen one? I don’t think either of those are especially welcomed.”
Viktor smiled. "And what about creating your own?" he muttered, his body adjusting to the new rhythm of the song starting to play.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” you admitted, defeat and shame tinting your voice from being heard too loud. “It’s been so long since I’ve lived under someone else’s name that…” you sighed, trying to form a smile that wasn’t lacking in sourness. “I shouldn’t be saying this out in the open.”
Viktor nodded. “You’d never know if you don’t try, hmm?” he offered, extending his arm for you to twirl, your skirt hitting his legs.
“Do you speak for experience?”
He tended to forget about your background, that perhaps at the beginning you weren’t as different as sometimes his mind obliged him to consider albeit it could give him hope that maybe the differences weren’t too grand for you two to try.
He didn’t like to be considered a fool carried away by feelings. Viktor was an engineer for a reason—leaving high hopes out of the equation, where they couldn’t enter through the polarized glass doors of the lab.
“I do,” Viktor said, patting the small of your back before retreating his hands. “Let’s go home, shall we?”
The windows of the car were fogged once you slipped inside, freezing air cutting at your face in the open parking lot.
Viktor groaned when he sat against the driver’s seat, the joints of his legs creaking after being standing up for quite a while.
“Do you want me to drive?” you said, your gaze burnt into his side profile as he took the seat belt with frozen fingers.
“I’ll get warmer soon. Don’t worry.” While the engine purred alive, Viktor took the steering wheel and decided to give you some answers about his life, in the remote case you’d be willing to do the same.
“I decided to leave my hometown and chase my chances in the city of progress when I was around sixteen years old." He tried to gesture away, but his hands were too numb from walking out of the building down to the basement, so he only got them hit against the windshield with a mumbled curse and his cheeks embarrassingly red. “I had your mother to thank for giving me a chance to enroll in such a prestigious university. She gave me a chance when many others just gazed past me.”
You parted your lips with a muffled ‘pop’ in the charged silence, windows blocking the blows of wind from a desert highway.
“Did you accept my offer because you feel like you owed my mother?” you asked quietly.
Viktor observed the bleak landscape outside, the night black with snow starting to fall out of the sky like small ghosts haunting the darkness.
“I did not,” Viktor said simply, not daring to gaze upon you.
It was a half-truth, but he didn’t dare to say it whole.
Not yet.
"I did it for HexTech," he ended up saying, closing his eyes with regret for a moment once the car stopped at a red light. It was too late to backtrack now. “It’s part of our dream, as you may know. It’s an opportunity we couldn’t pass.”
You chuckled, facing toward the window. "Of course. I thank you for accepting, nevertheless. I think you’re the only one who would do something like that.”
“Thank you, I assume?” he replied, voice filled with faux offense, which made you giggle.
“It was a compliment.”
He shrugged. “Sure sounded like one.”
"I want to thank you for accompanying me tonight," your voice flew softly inside the vehicle, as if time had stopped and you were inside one snow globe. “I enjoyed it, unexpectedly. And… it was because of you.”
“Did youenjoy it because of me?”
You crossed your legs, trying to appear easy-going though Viktor could see your hands fidgeting with the edge of your dress. “I usually don’t enjoy going to parties like those—I always have to be mingling and smiling and making chit-chat you won’t remember tomorrow. But alas, it’s work, too.” You shrugged, your finger drawing faces on the window. “But today was different.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Different how?”
“I felt at ease,” you chuckled, looking at the looming apartment complex approaching. “I do when I’m with you. So… thank you.”
He couldn’t know if it was the alcohol you had drank, or if the special circumstances had driven you so to speak so comfortably in his presence; maybe it was the many weeks passing by in each other's company inside the apartment, how you were more than existing together in the same space.
“It is my pleasure,” Viktor said, extending his arm so you could give him his coat as your body leaned toward the back, grabbing all the jackets and sweaters before heading outside. "I enjoy your company, too." Much more than just enjoying it, but it was a step closer to admission.
“That’s good,” you chuckled. “Or else it’ll be a rather awkward marriage.”
“And you’re just saying it now?” Viktor teased, hands brushing each other’s when you passed him his long, heavy brown coat. You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your mouth raised in a sheepish smile. “We should head inside before the car grows colder.”
You smiled at him from the copilot seat, so close he could take a whiff of the special perfume you wore for these types of occasions; with jasmines and sandalwood, a touch of lavender to calm down your nerves. “Wait a little. I want to stay here for a bit. It feels… good.”
Viktor had counted his drinks with diligence tonight. Two glasses of red wine and half a flute of champagne, which to him wasn’t much, accustomed to stronger drinks from back home, and yet… he couldn’t restrain himself this time.
The small locks of hair tickled your forehead when he leaned toward you, eyes locked into the other in a silent spell that seemed to envelop the quiet ambiance inside the car half-tucked between the shadows of the parking lot and the nearest streetlight, making your eyes shine like stars.
“Jsi krásná,” he muttered, your eyes widening slightly as his hand cupped your cheek.
By now, he was getting used to the way you felt against him every time you kissed, though it was always a marvel trying to guess where your hands would be this time, either in his hair or cupping his cheeks, maybe over his chest, seeking his accelerated heartbeat.
But it was never enough. And it was oh so terrifying.
You dipped your head so he could take the lead, slipping his tongue inside your mouth to taste the sweetness of the dark chocolate with strawberries that still clung to you, so deliciously mixed with the sour essence of the wine you had cheered with all night.
A little moan escaped your lips, his fingers sliding down the outline of your jaw, barely brushing the soft skin of your neck and the halter of your dress, a piece of silk and jewelry that felt so easy to unclip beneath his gifted, crafty hands.
It was a rather selfish desire, the one to take you in so much that he ended up engraved in your memory once this contract arrived at its end, wishing that perhaps that way he could make you stay.
You sighed his name between kisses, your nails gently scratching his skull, fingers tangled in his hair. He replied the only way he could, breathing your name like a prayer once he tugged you closer, defying the separation between the two seats.
It was the first time he felt your weight atop his; such a blissful sight of you gazing down toward him, hair framing them away from the outer world as your hands kneaded at his shoulders. Even in dreams, he could've never matched how it felt to truly have you between his arms.
You were bold tonight, too, stumbling across your seat to settle on his lap. Even if your pulse was too agitated to unbutton his vest and shirt as fast as he did to unclip the ends of your halter dress.
“Mmmm,” you hummed, Viktor’s eyes growing a burnt amber hue at taking in the sight of your skin covered in goosebumps against the cold air, nipples hard and small. “Viktor.”
He hovered his lips over the right one, his hot breath making it grow softer and bigger. It was your opportunity to turn away, to tug the ends of your dress from your waist upwards, and call it all a mistake.
And yet, you only arched your back at him, your nipple brushing against his ajar lips before he sucked it inside his mouth, drawing it around his teasing tongue as his hand sought the warmth of your skin, pinching the other small bud in rhythm with his licks.
“… Vikky…” Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently as your lips repeated his name in keen sights and lewd moans matching his.
The hand grabbing your hips caught the movement of your grinding against his lap now that he had woken up and gone hard at the taste of your body lotion, of your skin in his mouth, and the way you were leaning so needily against him.
“Call me Vitya, moje láska. Please.”
Your pants mixed with his made the windows of the car fog up so much Viktor was surprised there was still oxygen inside the closed space.
You looked down at him, hands gently cradling his cheeks. “Vitya?”
He flicked your nipple between his fingers. “Mmmhmm.” His voice was gentle, merely above a whisper while praising you in his natal Czech. He had no other choice—he mumbled all the loving words he didn’t dare to speak in English, too afraid still of your rejection as he passed from one pampered nipple to the other, enjoying how it had changed color thanks to all his attentions, the scientific, always-curious part of him thinking how much your skin would change in tone under his bites and kisses.
Between the hot coil starting to pour down between his legs and pressing uncomfortably against his pants, he saw the yellow headlights of an upcoming car.
Sure, the windows were all fogged up by now, but he couldn’t assure whoever was going to enter the parking lot couldn’t notice them in such a… compromising position. Married couple or not.
He called your name, though as soon as he did Viktor was sure you did not hear it, too lost in the repetitive motion of your hips buckling against the hardness in his pants.
Then, he bit your nipple, teeth pulling it harsher than he had done.
Hissing you tugged his head away, your eyes dark with lust and brows furrowed, both aroused and confused.
“Vik… Vitya?”
He felt his cheeks hot red, and Viktor knew the blush crept up his ears and down his chest. “E-eh… someone’s coming.”
You blinked through your passion. Once. Twice.
Before your brain could wire the information, the sound of the car’s engine echoed in the underground parking lot, and you jumped, scrambling toward your seat while covering your breasts with your hands.
“Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry!” you exclaimed, jumping out from him into the copilot seat, hands hurriedly taking your dress upwards to cover your hard nipples. “I’m sorry. We… um, we should get inside now,” you muttered, your hand wiping down the fog layered in the window of the car. “Well, maybe once the other people get down their vehicle.”
“I… I suppose so,” he said, shaky fingers buttoning up his shirt.
Perhaps it was for the best, that the cold air would calm down the lustful thoughts running through his mind enough that you wouldn’t notice the bulge in his pants once you entered the well-lit apartment.
“Viktor?” you said once he opened the entrance door with shaky hands, and after had dropped the keys at least twice before the victory.
“I… eh, I’ll take a quick shower,” he excused, passing next to you as fast as his cramped leg would permit him. Because your close presence and the recurring thoughts of you weren’t helping him to calm down.
The freezing air only made him fantasize how warm the bedroom would turn out if he dared to invite you to his bed tonight.
But you both had taken alcohol and perhaps it was just a spur of the moment—a defeated sigh and annoyed grunt in the morning once the events of last night had sunk in completely.
He didn’t want to be a mistake for you, because you wouldn’t be one for him.
So Viktor preferred to wait. He’d been patient for almost eight months now, he could wait a little bit more, too.
In the meantime, he would try to win your heart.
#arcane viktor x reader#viktor arcane x reader#viktor x reader#viktor fanfic#arcane viktor#viktor arcane#viktor x you#arcane viktor x you#viktor arcane x you#arcane x female reader
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ultrakill request: gabriel dressing as tacky as possible he just found out what humans were doing with clothes and he is fascinated
id: a digital drawing of gabriel from ultrakill. he's pictured as if he's walking with one arm hanging at his side and the other behind his head. he's wearing a wide summer hat with heart shaped sunglasses sat on top of it, a bright pink fur coat with a leopard print, two layered crop tops, one blue with a spiral pattern and one pink with a butterfly wing pattern, bright green shorts and brown cowboy boots with a floral pattern. the background is a flowy, flower-like pattern drawn in yellow, orange and light and dark blue. end id
ANON YOU'RE SO SO REAL FOR THIS o7 (<-salute). HOPE THIS IS TACKY ENOUGH ALSO
#i had another sketch but i didn't like it quite as much so you're getting. um beach episode gabriel ^__^#art#fanart#ultrakill#gabriel ultrakill#bright colors#eyestrain#i just threw a bunch of shit i find super cool into one outfit. once again hope this qualifies as tacky *bows*#i feel like i learnt from this request also. i don't know what exactly yet but i feel like i know more
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Hello! Okay so I saw your dress scene! Reader hcs (and dude I ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE IT LIKE OMG)
So I was a bit curious if you’d be willing to do Wally x Gn! Reader that wears Classic lolita! (Of course if you do not mind at all!! And remember if you don’t feel comfortable with this like AT ALL whatsoever feel free to ignore it!!)
Now you have a lovely day, splendid evening, and a AWESOME night and a WONDERFUL MONTH!! (Despite its the last day of April😕)
Absolutly, I love this idea so much! I've dabbled in lolita fashion a bit, so I'll see what I can do!
Wally Darling x GN Reader Lolita fashion show
Julie has been begging you for weeks to hold a fashion show, dressing everyone up in your lolita clothing. You were definitely hesitant at first, but after some convincing, and help from Sally, you agreed. Sally helped you to make clothing for everyone, after all Howdy, Poppy, and Barnaby were far larger then the rest of the neighborhood, and your outfits could only possibly fit Wally, although they might even be a bit big on him. After a long week of sewing and getting ready, everyone had these beautiful lolita outfits.
Barnaby had on a large blue dress with white lace and a rainbow of flowers delicatly placed throught it. The sleeves were off his shoulders and he had a large blue bow to tie his eyes up, a small group of flowers at the base of it. Howdy had a green velvety dress with wite lace as the sleeves. He wore long black gloves on all four arms and black ribbon was laced across his horns. Poppy wore an orange and beige drapped coat that drapes across her back. She wears a bonnet that matches as well. Eddie and Frank are wearing matching outfits, the same fit and style, although Eddie wore a suit and pettie coat made with bright flowery colors and gray lace while Frank wore a gray suit and pettie coat with a bright flowery lace. Julie wore a light pink lolita dress that opens to a white skirt in the front. It is adorned in white lace with a large bow at the center of her chest. She wore a large pink hat with holes tp show her horns through the top, and her horns were adorened with a light pink lace. Sallys was extreamly extravigant, a light yellow dress with white lace and covered in bows. It was stunning and definitly fit her personality. You were most proud of Wallys outfit. A extravigant blue tailcoat with a white undershirt and white pants. This outfit was paird with white platform kneehigh boots that had blue hearts on the bottom.
You, embarrassingly, spent the most time on his because you were a bit excited to see him in similar clothing to you. Currently, you were in a dressing room back stage, your dress has been a suprise from Sally, so you were ecstatic to see what she came up with. After only a few moments, everyone else was dressed and Sally walked in with your outfit...it matched the outfit you made for Wally, it was made from all the same fabrics and the design was almost identical, except it was formated more like the classic lolita dress, instead of a tailcoat. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as Sally handed you the extravegant dress. "Here you go [Name]! You get to walk out with Wally, so hurry and get ready!" Sally winked at you before turning and closing the door behind her.
As you looked at the dress you couldnt help but feel nervous. Still, you promised to do this with everyone, and it isnt much different then what you wear daily. So...you could play it off! Once you got yourself calmed down, you put the dress on and looked at yourself in the mirror. You couldnt help but smile a bit, doing a small twirl. Once you built up the confidence, taking a breath you opened the dressing room door and stepped into the main area where Wally was waiting for you. All your friends were waiting to watch already, so all you would have to do is take Wallys arm and walk out. Yet, it seemed both of you were frozen. You were absolutely in awe at how Wally looked in the outfit you made for him. You knew he would look amazing, but not this amazing. Little did you know, Wally was thinking the exact same thing. He felt an emotion he wasnt familier with, flustered.
After a few moments Wally collected himself and walked over to you, holding his hand out "Well you look just stunning Neighbor." You could feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment as a dorky smile reached your face. "Oh! Thank you, you look amazing as well..Darling." You took his hand, glancing away from embarrassment, not even realizing Wallys face had a rising flush to it as well. Still confident as ever though, Wally guides you past the curtains and onto the long catwalk. All of your neighbors began cheering as you both strutted down in these new outfits. Once you both got down to the end, Wally took your hand and knelt down. Oh god your mind is racing and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. "U-um, Wally?"
Wally just looks up at you with a smile, your friends still cheering as Sally and Julie fist bumped without even looking away. "[Name], my dear neighbor, would you be my partner?" Your heart was pounding in your chest and suddenly the rest of the world was silent, everything seemed to fade away except for Wally in front of you. In only a few moments, you picked Wally up, him going limp in your velvety arms as you twirled him around. Your dress puffed out, his tailcoat floated out with the wind, and your words were clear as day. "Yes! I would love to be your partner Wally!" You're friends began to cheer louder as Wallys smile grew even bigger, a lovesick expression on his face.
I may have went overboard with just talking about their designs, but hopefully you liked the chapter! Have an amazing day!
#wally darling#welcome home#wally darling x reader#gn reader#gender nuetral reader#oneshot#lolita fashion#Wally is such a sap#I swear I cant stop writing wally as a lovesick dork
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[ID: Digital art of the 13 Wyatt Masons from Blaseball in the outfits of the respective Doctors from Doctor Who. They are drawn in chibi form. They all have bright pink eyes. Wyatt Mason 1 (Jas) is a girl with dark brown skin and curly black hair in a high bun. She is wearing the First Doctor's outfit of a white shirt under a black coat, tartan pants, black shoes, and a deep blue tie. Wyatt 2 (Di) has pale skin and short, spiky black hair, and is wearing a black coat, a bowtie, a light blue button-up shirt, tartan pants, and black shoes. 3 (Trip) has pale skin and long, straight brown hair, and is wearing a white shirt, black coat and bowtie, brown pants and shoes, and a black cape with red lining. 4 (Ivy) has pale skin and short spiky brown hair in a ponytail, and is wearing a long brown coat over a plaid vest, red shirt, dark pants and shoes, and a long rainbow scarf. 5 (Vybie) has medium brown skin and short, spiky dark brown hair with blue, pink, and purple streaks, and is wearing a cream coat, white sweater, red striped pants, and a Panama hat. 6 (Vi) has pale skin and long straight brown hair with green streaks and purple flowers, and is wearing yellow pants, a red shirt, a blue tie, and a long coat with many different colors. 7 (Seven) has pale skin, short yellow hair in two ponytails, and four eyes, and is wearing plaid brown pants, a yellow sweater with red question marks, a beige coat, and a Panama hat. 8 (Wy8) is a robot with light brown skin and short, spiky black hair that covers their eyes, and is wearing a long brown coat over a brown vest and brown pants tucked into tall brown boots. 9 (Nines) has brown skin and long, curly brown hair dyed pink at the bottom, and is wearing a leather jacket over a dark blue shirt and pants. 10 (MaX) has pale skin and short brown hair in an undercut with a pink streak, and is wearing a brown pinstripe suit. 11 (Lev) has light brown skin and orange hair in short dreadlocs, and is wearing a brown jacket, gray button-up, blue pants, and a bowtie. 12 (Midnight) has pale skin and long, wavy dark brown hair, and is wearing a black coat, white button-up shirt, black pants, and black boots. 13 (Thirteen) has pale skin and short, spiky black hair, and is wearing a blue shirt with a rainbow stripe, blue pants with yellow suspenders, brown shoes, and a gray coat. End ID.]
all the hype on my dash about doctor who has got me thinking about my other favorite group of approximately thirteen guys who are all the same guy. doctor mason? wyatt who? mason....who... eh we'll workshop it
bonus drawing under the cut for those In The Know
[ID: A digital sketch. Wyatt Mason 19 (Sunny), drawn in yellow lines, looks up at two large pillars and says "pleeease?" with a pleading expression. One of the pillars has "sigh..." written on it in script. It then shows a police box, like the Tardis, drawn in gold lines, with "the vault" written in yellow where "police box" would normally be. Sunny, who has medium golden-brown skin, short brown hair with gold tips, and a small halo and angel wings, and is wearing overalls over a yellow shirt and bowtie, holds open one of the doors, beaming. End ID.]
#wow look something original!!#sondart#fan: gnym!!#blaseball#im not tagging all of the wyatts. Theyre In There#i WILL however tag#wyatt mason xix#oc: sunny mason#doctor who#< not maintagged hopefully lol#first drawing project since getting back from college woooo!
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Would never describe myself as "a bright little patriot" but an all-black outfit with a grape-colored bag absolutely sounds like something I would wear
What are you wearing?
Transcription:
Photoplay, December 1941
Be a bright little patriot and take your color cue from your state flower for the gayest-hued season that's ever dazzled America
BY MARIAN H. QUINN
Alabama…goldenrod
A bright gold wool furless coat with a taupe belt
Arizona…saguaro cactus
Be as draught-resistant and as showy in the Lasso boots on page 60* — maybe a pair of red ones
Arkansas…apple blossom
The apple-blossom pink and blue wool striped collars and cuffs on your wool dress
California…golden poppy
The gold buttons you'll wear on anything; maybe they'll be massive carved ones for your suit
Colorado…columbine
A purple crepe lining for your black day suit
Connecticut…mountain laurel
The new plaid combination — purple with mountain-laurel pink, navy blue and white
Delaware…peach blossom
A wool dress the color of peach blossoms under your dark coat.
Florida…orange blossom
A needlepoint purse worked in orange-blossom pattern
Georgia…cherokee rose
A simple white crepe dinner skirt; a sweater of yellow pailettes
Idaho…syringa
White or cream rayon slipper satin waltz dress; wear a black snood and black gloves with it
Illinois…wood violet
Violet silk stockings (honest!) with your violet evening dress
Indiana…zinnia
Be as vivid in a bright orange or red hat worn with black
Iowa…wild rose
Sequins forming a pattern of roses all over your evening bag
Kansas…sunflower
Bright woolen jacket of orange; matching orange gloves
Kentucky…goldenrod
Circular yoke of gold crocheted yarn topping a black wool
Louisiana…magnolia
Magnolia-pink rose on the big pillow muff of black lace you'll carry with your chemise dress
Maine…pine cone
New combination of pine-cone brown with baroque pink
Maryland…black-eyed susan
Smart suit: A black jacket with a yellow skirt
Massachusetts…mayflower
Interpret it broadly; be shipshape in a wine middy-top dress
Michigan…apple blossom
Pale pink crepe blouse; deeper pink jacket; black skirt
Minnesota…moccasin flower
Soft-soled moccasins of gold-trimmed white kid for dancing
Mississippi…magnolia
Pink velvet piping on your black dress
Missouri…hawthorn
A waist-length red velvet cape trimmed with jet for evening
Montana…bitterroot
A whole suit of peachy pink for the tea-dancing hour
Nebraska…goldenrod
The gold service insignia of your beau on the left-hand (nearest the heart) glove
Nevada…sagebrush
Sage-green shoes to go with a sage-green monotone costume
New Hampshire…purple lilac
Clogs of purple satin for your purple dance dress
New Jersey…violet
A purple felt hat with your dark blue wool suit
New Mexico…yucca
A creamy white dog collar of pearls to make you as imposing
New York…rose
Red-as-the-rose red with black; perhaps knitted red gloves
North Carolina…oxeye daisy
A snow-white angora felt cloche with a yellow grosgrain band
North Dakota…wild prairie rose
Belt with a buckle that's made of a cowhide prairie-wagon wheel
Ohio…scarlet carnation
Carnation-red wool jacket piped in black to wear with a black skirt
Oklahoma…mistletoe
The dress on page 63**; wear it and see what happens
Oregon…Oregon grape
A grape-colored suede bag, only contrast to an all-black outfit
Pennsylvania…mountain laurel
Pink brushed-wool hat for your dark suit
Rhode Island…violet
A violet plaid tweed coat
South Carolina…jessamine
Over your black dress wear a tight-waisted tunic of yellow wool
South Dakota…pasqueflower
A purple wool suit and its surefire accessory—a yellow sweater or blouse
Tennessee…iris
The lining of the black peplum on your black wool, a blue as deep as the iris
Texas…bluebonnet
Blue suede gloves, blue velvet bag as an accessory team
Utah…sego lily
The white and orange cockade of finely pleated ribbon on your red velour hat
Vermont…red clover
A clover-red corduroy dress
Virginia…dogwood
A creamy satin waistcoat to wear over a black-velvet skirt
Washington…rhododendron
Deep pink snakeskin gloves to match the belt on a black dress
W. Virginia…great rhododendron
Combine a pale pink with Dublin green in a jacket; wear it over a nut-brown dress
Wisconsin…violet
Dog collar of purple velvet on your beige dress
Wyoming…Indian paintbrush
A harlequin necklace; one side orange-red, one side green
*aforementioned boots for Arizona:
**aforementioned dress for Oklahoma:
#photoplay#film magazine#movie magazine#vintage style#vintage fashion#1940s#1941#forties#40s#maureen o'hara#ootd#vintage inspiration
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[ID: A digital drawing of Cel Sidebottom from Rusty Quill Gaming wearing a fancy suit. They are a tall half elf with short vertical blonde hair. They wink and skip forward, on hand lifting a top hat with goggles off their head. The top half of the suit is split down the middle with the left half resembling a dark tuxedo and the right half a brown patterned waistcoat and ruffle shirt. The waistcoat extends down into 2 long coat tails with bright green lining. There are several gold accents, including a gold chain hanging off their waist with an orange bow at the end. The bg is a light orange with a white outline of a fancy photo frame. End ID]
Happy 3rd Anniversary to RQG 130!! aka Happy Birthday Cel!!! 🧡💚🧡
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WAIT HOLD ON I HAD AN IDEA!
So with the gift giving of feathers and scales, and the way you describe Emmet’s monster form I was hit in the head with a few ideas.
So male birds are the pretty and flashy ones, so that got me thinking, he is try to be flashy and show off around his darling? Bright vibrant colors, maybe battles, and how pretty he is.
And to piggy back off that, what about gifts from darling? Like homemade chocolates, rocks, shiny things.
Would the two eldritch twins see that as their darling courting them?
And with Ingo being being lizard like and shadowy, aside from scale giving, does he try to give off a comforting scent to show he’s approachable? Or flash a bright color as a warning?
I apologize for the rambling! And possibly flooding your in box, I hope I’m not doing that. I’m very excited and in love with your writing! - noodle
Hnnnnn Noodle I love all of these ideas
I like to imagine Emmet is the bigger show-off of the two- He adores your praise and attention! He wants more! Constantly! He'll practice with his pokemon to perfect elite-rank-contest-worthy attack combos on his opponents to dazzle you. I think he also spends a lotta time grooming and preening his feathers- they're very sensitive to touch as well so they feel very refreshing after he's washed them- and he finds it especially nice if you're the one doing the grooming! And like with his feathers, he's obsessed with keeping his coat and hat and outfit as immaculate as possible- He's practically glowing every time you see him. Ingo might have to point out sometimes that actually, he is glowing- And-people-are-staring-so-please-stop-
He loves light and color and life and vibrancy- After all, he is an eldritch entity of light. ...and other things
While he prefers his light/white aesthetic for himself, His halo has prismatic layers to it that can change the intensity and hue of the radiance he's giving off, making it reflect various colors- All of the colors are fairly intense, but also all tinged with his Eldritch light; Making them, unfortunately, difficult to look at. And of course, he doesn't want you looking around the room for the cast colors- He wants you looking at him! He can flex his wings and feathers to catch all the radiance himself- Making his wings look intensely, eye-catchingly rainbow, or whatever colors are being reflected. Usually, the colors aren't rainbow- but a grouping of similar toned hues as that's what's easiest for him to make.
You'll be coddled in a shimmering feather-nest of warm glittering golds and autumn oranges and yellows and earthen browns and scarlet reds and hints of rosy pink- Or forest greens giving way to skylight blues and cerulean and cyan, flickering like emeralds and sapphires over silver- giving way to deep indigo and violets and amethyst purples and rosy maroons.
Like I said, It's only when he's really trying to wow you that he's busting out making his halo/general radiance super vibrant and prismatic and rainbowy. This also leads to Darling becoming Dazzled by Eldritch lights which Ingo will have to fix
He will gift his darling vibrant colored things and if you really like brightly colored things, he'll accessorize as well; If his hair is long enough for a ponytail, the ties binding it back are colorful. If it's cold, he's wearing a vibrantly colored scarf- that sort of thing! If you catch him outside of Gear Station on the rare occasion he is physically out of the Station, he'll be wearing mostly white/grey/black, with considerably more colored accessories/accents than before. He adores shiny things that reflect his light as well- Especially when you're the one wearing them.
He gets annoyed if you don't notice these things though; He wants your praise and attention, and if the extras aren't wow-ing you he'll move onto something else.
And to piggy back off that, what about gifts from darling? Like homemade chocolates, rocks, shiny things.
Would the two eldritch twins see that as their darling courting them?
Gifts are a big thing for soulmates to share- Ingo and Emmet are aware you can't exactly do any Eldritch magic stuff on your own, and ergo can't give them what they'd consider normal gifts- But you can give them human gifts, and they love it. If it's before you're dating, then they absolutely take it to mean you're trying to court them- And they're probably right- And are responding accordingly.
They especially like gifts that take time and effort to prepare. You've been thinking of them the whole time you've been making those chocolates, pouring your love and energy into them! They may have to shoo you out of their office after you give them such treats, however- As it's difficult for them to remain human when they're so very elated.
Also, being weird eldritch-demon things, they love offerings and rituals- I can see them handing Darling a pair of Grimoires; Sucker for Love style ones that detail not how to get them to do stuff for you, but their favorite offerings, incantations, ritual-space preparations, incenses they like, etc.
One's black as night, etched with a silver insignia that has a shape vaguely like an upwards-pointing triangle; And the other one's blindingly silver-white and shiny, etched with a tar-black insignia looking vaguely like a downwards facing triangle. I also think the whole "Eldritch entities like being worshiped by humans" is partially why Emmet likes being praised so much. (On that note Ingo also likes it but doesn't really realize how much he likes it- Until Darling starts laying the praise on thicc, and from then on when he's particularly deep in the brainrot he'll beg for praise as well, if you aren't already complimenting him and showering him with your love.)
And with Ingo being being lizard like and shadowy, aside from scale giving, does he try to give off a comforting scent to show he’s approachable? Or flash a bright color as a warning?
I imagine Ingo's preferred method of courting would be to show off that he's an excellent protector and supporter. He really likes to lean over or hover around you- You'll probably feel a little hazy while he's doing this, unless it's after they start dating you, in which case he doesn't need to make you hazy-headed to get you to be blissfully unaware that he's extremely close and leaning over you in a way your boss should not be.
Also if he did give off a scent (IDK what scent to give him but I'm sort of imagining that he'd smell like incense of some kind because eldritch occult monster guy or possibly warm bread because warm bread is comforting and the only scent I can think of right now b/c I just made bread and it's the only thing I can smell) of any kind, I think he'd try to rub it off on Darling- And you can't quite remember where you picked up this lovely scent on your skin and clothes, but even after you wash you can still smell it on you.
I think Ingo would have less "warning signs" than Emmet does- Eldritch Demons normally have only one warning they issue; They'll tell the offender something along the lines of "You're not wanted here, go away," or other appropriate phrases depending on what sort of harassment they're receiving; And then go back to doing whatever they were doing.
Attempting to harass an Eldritch Entity even more after this warrants them preparing to attack.
Emmet's feathers become rigid and pointed- The fur on his body falling flat and becoming coarse and rough and sharp, and he'll drag his clawed feet along the ground- Tearing up the Earth before launching himself at his opponent in a bullet-fast flurry of knife-sharp feathers covered in thousands of needles- And burning radiance.
If someone's managed to piss off Ingo enough (Congratulations how the heck did you manage that?!) to get him ready to attack though... His coat starts fraying at the edges, dripping into shadows and darkness and his hands are curling weirdly into claws as he gradually loses more and more of his form- a shambling mass of shadows, dripping with ashen venom and malice for whomever is in front of him. And the only indications there's anything within the shadows is the strange, silvery slitted lights peering out from the depths, and occasionally, a shape of a tail or claws or the mouth from which the acrid venom is drooling out. Whatever the shadows touch melds into them- losing it's shape and it's life. Ingo does not need to move fast to take down an enemy, either. His enemy lost the moment the shadows touch them- And they'll be eaten away by the darkness until all that remains of them is nothing.
It's worth saying tho that neither of them, however, have really encountered anything in the pokemon world strong enough to warrant an old fashioned Eldritch showdown- In this realm, they both just probably issue their warnings and then if the idiot continues to bother them, they just go snap and the bother is gone. (Unless they were trying to impress you. Then maybe they'll show you how scary they can be!)
I also love love love the idea of Ingo flashing a bright color as a warning sign too adkajd that is so good; Like some enemy has managed to piss off The Eldritch Entity of Darkness so much he's giving off so much magical energy and malice that it actually turns into a bright aura around him, electrifying the air and settling over his scales in a stark contrast- The colors themselves would have a violent feel to them, if that makes sense. Looking at this entity's scales, which are naturally and meant to be dark, black voids- To see them so horrifyingly vibrant feels inherently wrong and sickening. And it is. The colors are disorienting and painful and getting worse every second the victim looks at them-
And it's the last thing they'll ever see.
#Demon AU#Monster AU#Demon Submas#Monster Submas#Emmet X Reader#Ingo X Reader#Ingo/Reader#Emmet/Reader#I have brainrot#<3
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what if you lived in the roaring 20s but were a little kibby cat (style is based off of the lackadaisy comic by tracy j. butler!) thornwhirr, moldbright, and yarrowclaw belong to @lasilhouetteinbianco, @headphonecables, and @transsexualprophet respectively!
[ID: two colored drawings of anthropomorphic cats dressed in clothing from the 1920′s. The first picture features Thornwhirr and Dustmill. Thornwhirr is a tortoiseshell cat with heterochromia, with a noticable triangular orange patch over xir right eye. Dustmill is a grey cat with grey hair, and dark birthmarks on their face. Thorn is dressed in a black and gold flapper dress with a golden headband, scarf, and flats. Dustmill, meanwhile, is dressed in a white coat with a fur collar and golden tiara and golden heels. They have their back turned to the audience, looking over their shoulder mysteriously as they hold out a peacock feather fan. Thorn leans on a cane as xe smirks at Dustmill. The highlights in the piece make them both look glossy.
The second picture is of Moldbright and Yarrowclaw. Moldbright is a fawn colored cat with a white patch across their face and green eyes. Yarrowclaw is a grey spotted tabby with amber eyes. Moldbright is dressed in a light yellow shirt and overalls, while Yarrowclaw wears a grey shirt, dark blue vest, and orange neckerchief. Both have paperboy caps. Moldbright looks to the left, hat raised in what could be a polite greeting with a calm expression, while Yarrowclaw looks to the camera with a bright expression. End ID.]
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The Various Unlockable Outfits
Remember my posts on how I would make Balan Wonderworld a better game and the posts on the hypothetical quotes of each of the Inhabitants?
In this post, I'll write down the various outfits that can be unlocked for each character. Each character will have six outfits in total, including their default outfit. Some of the females may have their hairstyle changed.
Leo Craig:
His default outfit
A red hoodie, dark blue jeans, black headband, and red shoes
A loose-fitting dark blue tank top, black shorts, white socks, and dark blue sneakers
A male school student's uniform which consists of a white shirt, a bright red tie, a bright red-lined black blazer, black slacks (pants), and brown shoes
A black leather jacket, a maroon shirt, navy pants, black fingerless gloves, and brown boots
A white suit over a red button up shirt, black tie, white dress pants, and black shoes.
Emma Cole:
Her default outfit
A pink jacket over a ruffled white shirt, a red skirt with white lace trimming, white socks, and pink shoes with a small red rose on each one. Also sports pink hair ties
A soft pink short-sleeved dress, black leggings, and green sneakers. Wears her hair down and a green hairclip
A female school student's uniform which consists of a white shirt, a bright red tie, a bright red-lined black blazer, a black pleated skirt, and black loafers. She wears knee-lengthed white socks
A pink elbow-sleeved shirt under a light blue denim vest, red capris, and red sneakers. Wears her hair in a ponytail with a pink hair tie
An asymmetrical magenta dress with a black belt, a soft pink bracelet, and fuschia dress shoes. Wears her hair down
Jose Gallard:
His default outfit
A spring green plaid shirt, light blue overalls, tan gloves and work boots, and a red handkerchief
A long-sleeved blue and white striped shirt, a dark brown vest, denim blue jeans, a dark brown belt, and black work boots. Wears a dark brown cowboy-like hat
A denim blue jacket, brown gloves, a red and black plaid shirt, black jeans, and brown cowboy-like boots
A sky blue and white loose fit shirt, beige pants, and cream colored shoes. Wears a spring green handkerchief
A black suit over a white shirt, black dress pants, black shoes, and a corn cowlpin on the left side of his chest
Fiona Demetria:
Her default outfit
A sea-blue halter bikini top with a form-fitting sea-blue skirt and navy sandals. Wears her hair down
A blue and white short-sleeved diving suit that also reaches the top of her knees and matching diving shoes. Wears a white hair tie
A yellow halter swimdress and a pair of sunglasses with a navy blue frame. Wears her hair in a bun
A light blue mermaid seashell bikini top and matching bottom. Wears light blue sandals and wears her hair down
A royal blue one-shoulder dress, navy blue heels, and an amulet with a dolphin charm. Wears a royal blue hair tie
Yuri Brand:
Her default outfit
A short-sleeved purple shirt with magenta trimming, red shorts, and purple shoes with red soles and magenta trim around the top of the shoes
A white cap, a white coat over an indigo shirt, a white pleated skirt with indigo stripes, and red boots
The same female's school uniform as Emma's, but wears navy loose-fitting socks
A red zipped-up jacket over a purple shirt, denim blue jeans, and purple and green shoes.
An indigo A-line dress with red lining and magenta dress shoes.
Haoyu Chang:
His default outfit
A grey hoodie over an orange shirt, brown pants, and green and white shoes
A green tank top with an orange stripe, white capris pants, and orange and green sneakers
The same male's school uniform as Leo
An orange long-sleeved shirt underneath a grey jacket with green lining, green pants, and white shoes
A white suit over a green dress shirt, a white tie, white dress pants, and black dress shoes
Sana Hudson:
Her default outfit
An army green forest ranger shirt with light yellow buttons and a badge with her last name , a brown belt, an army green hat, army green shorts, and brown hiker boots. Has her hair straightened
A light yellow tank top, black biker shorts with a yellow stripe, and yellow and black sneakers
A sky blue short sleeved jacket over a light green shirt, light blue denim shorts, and light green and yellow shoes
An orange cardigan over a sky blue shirt, beige capris pants, and orange flats
A light green v-neck dress, diamond earrings, and light yellow stilettos. Wears her hair in a bun
Cass Milligan:
Her default outfit
A soft pink hoodie with cat ears on the hood over a fuscia shirt, a black pleated skirt, white socks, and black Mary Janes
A white, short-puffed sleeved shirt underneath a pretty pink overall dress with soft pink buttons, white tights, and fuschia boots. Wears a pretty pink bow
A long-sleeved navy seifuku with a red mini scarf, navy pleated skirt, white socks, and black shoes
A fuschia jacket over a black shirt, a white frilly skirt, black socks, and white Mary Janes
A yellow dress similar to what she wore as Princess Merry, but the skirt is shorter and there are no gloves
Cal Suresh:
His default outfit
A light yellow polo shirt with two small white buttons, a black belt, beige pants, and brown loafers
A grey loose-fitting shirt, indigo capris pants, and black sandals
A black cardigan over a red shirt, black jeans, and grey boots
A white long-sleeved shirt under an indigo vest, a red bow tie, khacki pants, and black shoes
A black suit over a white shirt, a black tie, black dress pants, and black dress shoes
Iben Bia:
Her default outfit
A denim blue jean jacket over a lavender shirt with a dark blue stripe on the collar, light blue denim pants, black socks, and lavender sneakers with blue shoelaces. Her hair is tied in a ponytail with a lavender hair tie
A turquoise buttoned up cardigan over a black shirt with a red collar and stripe, blue denim capris pants, and purple boots
A lavender hoodie with purple strings, dark blue denim jeans, and black and red shoes. Her hair is tied in a bun, but her wavy strands are loose
A maroon biker jacket over a blue shirt, black denim shorts, white socks, and red and black shoes
A purple cocktail dress, pearl earrings and necklace, and lavender high heels. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail with a purple hair tie
Attilio Caccini:
His default outfit
A light blue long-sleeved jacket with light green rings at the cuffs and zipper, beige pants, and black shoes
A magenta long-sleeved shirt underneath a light green vest, a yellow unitard, yellow boots, and a magenta and yellow striped jester hat
A fuschia sweater, black pants, and brown boots
A light blue short-sleeved shirt with light green trimming, khacki shorts, and brown sandals
A white suit over a light green dress shirt, a black tie, white dress pants, and black and white dress shoes
Lucy Wong:
Her default outfit
A yellow summer dress, a cream colored sun hat with a yellow sash, and yellow flats
A magenta apron over a black dress, magenta earrings, and fuschia flats. Wears her hair down
A blue top with a turtleneck collar, a black skirt, and black and blue flats
A fuschia short-sleeved shirt, a white flowing skirt with floral print, and white heels
A magenta ball gown with fuschia stilettos and diamond earrings. Wears her hair down
Eis Glover:
His default outfit
A red short-sleeved shirt, brown suspenders, denim blue jeans, and brown boots
A black long-sleeved shirt, brown pants, black sneakers with orange shoelaces
An orange tanktop, white shorts, and black shoes
A variant version of his firefighter uniform, but it is beige
A black suit over a bright red dress shirt, a black bow tie, black dress pants, and black dress shoes
Bruce Stone:
His default outfit
A long-sleeved white shirt underneath a cream colored vest, a mauve bow tie, a grey fedora, mauve pants, and black shoes
A brown jacket over a mauve shirt, a black belt, a mauve fedora, beige pants, and brown boots
A mauve sweater with black lining, a black fedora, black sweatpants, and beige loafers
A cream short-sleeved shirt, a cream fedora, brown suspenders, blue jeans, and brown shoes
A grey suit over a white dress shirt, grey dress pants, black dress shoes. Doesn't sport a fedora
#balan wonderworld#emma cole#leo craig#jose gallard#fiona demetria#yuri brand#haoyu chang#sana hudson#cass milligan#cal suresh#iben bia#attilio caccini#lucy wong#eis glover#bruce stone#random thoughts
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Faust needs to take a self-care day {Guilty Gear}
I got this done last night, but I immediately had to crash to bed afterwards ahsgas I have no clue what to name this.
More Faust, another thing based off of his Strive design. Complicated-ey designs aren't my strong suit. He may technically be less depressed in Strive than compared to his previous appearances, but he still looks like a walking corpse and sleep paralysis demon, which his old acquaintance Testament (who I represented with the angry top hat) 100% would not abide by lmao. He needs a nap, a baker's dozen of doughnuts, and clothing that fits better and doesn't make him the butt of "children's hospital/color theory" jokes. Also, more belts. Two belts on his waist, belts on the sheath holder, belts on his gloves...
I gave him a sheath for Margarita (his scalpel) because I A) Wanted more gold/yellow to balance with the green and B) Felt it'd be weird for him to be waving around his big scalpel without protection, particularly outside of combat. He still holds the scalpel in his mouth and skitters on all-fours when he's in a fight, though. Old habits.
I hope you like it!
Design notes/other info under the cut.
Design notes/Other notes/etc. :
- I gave him a bluish-green main color as a mid-point between Strive and Dr. Baldhead. In all of his non-Strive designs, he's had green on his design somewhere (ML: Primary color. X: Pants. XX: Pants. Xrd: Pants). His "thing" is that he went back to "Square One" and is mentally overlapping a lot with Dr. Baldhead, so I decided to bring back being primarily green with a bit of a blue tint because he does not want to go full serial-killer again. I also removed the red splotches because he's just asking to have the Tumblr "children's hospital/color theory" joke used on him lmao.
- His glove cuffs are longer overall and he can adjust the glove tightness with the belts.
- He has his shirt tucked-in, though it is still rather loose/baggy on him.
- The pack he wears on his belt is much bigger on the inside (...and occasionally spits out straw).
- He got the sheath from ties with the Kiske family. The inside of it has "Margarita" engraved in it near the opening (the name given to the scalpel in pre-release articles for the original GG).
- His voice is less gravelly, but is still rather deep compared to pre-Strive.
- He still has trouble summoning flowers, and he decided to give his sheath floral motifs because he still likes plants. The texture on the very end is based off of sunflowers.
- For the pack on one of his belts, the pin is based off the design present on the front of his coat in Xrd. The handle is a bright red-orange to make it easy for him to see
- He often hangs out with Testament and they like talking about their hobbies/history together.- His sense of humor leans less towards being crass (i.e. Kancho attack) or lolzXDsorandum, and more towards black comedy/doctor humor/gallows humor. That'd basically be the only reason for his Mini-Fausts to still have nooses around their necks lmao. There's a certain flair to laugh at death. I've met a few doctors and they all have some flavor of black comedy/morbid humor and thought it would fit the funny sleep paralysis demon.
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LU Character Design Analysis 3
In case you haven’t seen the previous two posts yet, I’m doing this thing where I’m analysing and subsequently ranking all the designs of the chain in LU. I was going to do it 2 at a time, but I’ve got so much to say that I’m doing it one a time.
All the designs are really good, it was hard to come up with a decent ranking system that I was happy with and even harder to apply it. The numbers I scored them are subjective and any one of them can be debated.
With that said, onto the next person on the list...
7th place: Wind
His design is simple and that’s the beauty of it, but it’s also why he’s only number 7. Truth be told on its own it’s near perfect for me; I just so happen to like the designs further up the list more than this one and these clothes aren’t appropriate outside his era.
Pros: His clothes are lightweight allowing him to take full advantage of his small size and superior agility in combat- it’s difficult to hit a moving target after all. The four long coat tails are genius as they really help push the pirate aesthetic without weighing him down with a bulky coat (an exaggerated collar and cuffs would ruin his simple silhouette), plus they add a lot of style when he’s drawn in action.
I’m so happy he’s wearing a modified version of the lobster shirt (JoJo even kept the v-line!), I like to think his Grandma made it for his 13th birthday. The white patterns look spectacular and give the design some interesting visual flare without making it look too busy.
The orange 3/4 trousers and ankle boots are adorable, they look comfortable and breathable, which is perfect for travelling the vast sunny seas. I also like the tiny amount of baby pink in his necklace, it works well with the light blue and oranges in his clothes.
The colours are bright and happy, not only for reflecting the sun’s rays but also reflecting the lighthearted mood of Wind Waker and Phantom Hourglass as well as Wind’s adorable personality. He’s definitely the moodmaker of the chain, able to lift the spirits of the others with even just a smile. His wide eyes, animated facial expressions and sun bleached hair make him look friendly and outgoing.
Btw, I’m fine with him not wearing his pointed hat because it’s not very good for sun protection. And anyway Tetra definitely would’ve made fun of it.
Cons: I don’t really get why he’s so pale. Back in his era he’s out in the sun 24/7 doing all kinds or heroic shenanigans and cool pirate stuff, and I don’t think he’d always heed his Grandmother’s advice to stay in the shade or wear a hat to avoid sunburn. I’m not saying he should be tanned bright orange because it’ll blend in too much with his trousers, but realistically his complexion could be darker.
I know I said it’s great that his clothes are lightweight, and it is for running around on a ship or dipping into quick battle encounters, but not long drawn out fights. There’s a another reason the chain always have a watchful eye on him and it’s because the boy’s clothes aren’t very protective. Even brushing up against a thorn bush looks like it would tear him apart; his clothing looks too thin and flimsy.
Can Legend please lend this child some magical items? Just for this adventure. My heart can’t handle the thought of anything happening to him.
Wishlist: I’m conflicted again. To be honest I really don’t have anything here. I like his design for what it is and I like that it’s kept simple, but at the same time there could be more pirate elements added in. Like a little compass on his belt, or a bandana scarf or maybe a white bandana headband to protect his face from the sun or a trinket given to him by his sister.
I’d also like to sea some green on him- maybe a light green. I’m not too sure where to put it on this design, but I’ve always liked the idea of him wearing a little waistcoat or maybe he could have some seaweed inspired details on his belt?
Ooh would it be a good idea for him to have an aspect of his design inspired by Linebeck? Like having a waistcoat as part of his civilian clothing or something like that. I’ve not played Phantom Hourglass, but that guy was like Link’s father figure or uncle figure right?
Score:
Aesthetic and visual score (/10): 7
Character representation score (/5): 4
Practicality score (/5): 2
Total (/20): 13
I placed him higher than the other two because I like his design more, it’s cohesive and every bit of it makes sense.
~~~
Thanks for reading! What modifications would you make to their designs? And do you agree with me or not? I’d love to know :)
Masterlist
9th place in the character design ranking
8th place
6th place
4th place
3rd place
Character analysis posts:
Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors
#linked universe#lu wind#linked universe wind#lu#lu analysis#linkeduniverse#character design analysis#part two#lu tier list#lu rambles
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a collection of hermit clothing: part two
(part one here)
——
Pearl’s clothes didn’t feel quite right. Her worker’s overalls had been worn so often they were now a faded green, so by all means they should fit great by now, as they were practically a second skin. And they were soft and fitted well, but something was just off about the whole thing. Maybe it was the trash smell. Maybe not. And there was the orange hard hat too, of course. She had to hide the antenna growing out of her head somehow.
——
Keralis kept a meticulous collection of pristine plaid shirts, a rather stunning collection of suspenders, and jeans that showed off his… assets. Despite working hard every day, under the bright sun (and sometimes moon), his clothes always looked immaculate, like he was on the cover of a modern homes magazine.
——
xB had stuff to do, alright? No time for fancy outfits or elaborate costumes. Hoodie. Jeans. Shoes, preferably two. Bam, done, out the door, done.
He had a couple of hoodies and pairs of jeans, but he had a habit of losing track of them, often finding a hoodie in, say, the output chest of the slime farm, or amongst the moss on the ground.
——
Each lab coat Doc owned was full of memories. He had a lot of them, all hung up in a little closet, and every morning he would choose one to wear. They were all raggedy, some stained, some torn, some with holes. This one he had perfected shadow technology in. That one shimmered with ghast tears he couldn’t seem to clean off. The memories went on and on.
——
Grian’s classic red sweater was one of many- he had a brand, and he had to stick to it! His sweaters were all a little worn, but repaired expertly. A little patch here or there, some simple sewing with red string, and all was well again. His sweaters seemed to be collectors of all sorts of bits and bobs. Feathers from his wings, bits of dirt and stone, even some redstone dust from time to time. Shake out one of his sweaters, and who knows what you’ll find trapped in there.
——
Only the best for King Ren. Ren dressed in long dragging robes of blood red, often with diamonds sewn in that jangled merrily together. His collar was of the finest white wool, and his crown, although small, was adorned with so many precious stones that it was a struggle to keep his head raised. He made sure to smell good, keeping a bottle of doggy cologne on him at all times. King Ren was elegance and grace, and everyone must know it just from looking at him.
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"Monomyth"
The metro is loud. Full of loud people, yes, sometimes, but that’s not what I mean; even when it’s empty, the metro is loud. The trains rumble like there has never been silence—like all of Turku has always just been engine noise, the shriek of metal on metal, the rush of air outside the windows that never quite shut properly.
A young girl sits alone, the entire car empty but for her. No bodies fill the battered seats, no markers scrawl graffitied runes on the plastic seat backs, no hands grip rails that were once painted yellow and have since worn down to the silver metal underneath.
Yes, I know you’ve been on the metro, muru. I know it’s different now. This was a long time ago. Let me tell the story.
The girl leans her head against the window, ignores the way it jostles her skull. Her breath fogs the glass until she isn’t really looking out at the world anymore, and her gaze remains fixed on some distant point purely out of a desire to stay still. She has a coat draped over her shoulders; it’s a large, thick, patchwork thing, all mended elbows and mismatched buttons, too big for her. She clutches it tightly around herself. She isn’t going anywhere specific. She just needs to be somewhere else, somewhere that isn’t where she was.
The lights in the car are off, the illumination glyphs that normally cast the space in a bright white light all either damaged or drained of power. This is not so out of the ordinary, the girl knows. The metro system is in a constant state of disrepair, and it’s not dark in the train car, not by any means: The cool light of a winter sunset filters in through the misty glass. Even so, without the familiar bright glow, the space feels eerie. The girl clutches her coat closer around her.
Don’t be ridiculous, of course this story isn’t about me. I was never a young girl. I came into this world your mumma, old and witchy, and I haven’t changed a bit in the many years since then. No, I don’t have more wrinkles than the last time you were here. Stop interrupting with silly questions. Let me tell the story.
The train reaches a tunnel and the window, until that moment fogged and white and glowing, suddenly drops to a deep black. The girl sits up in surprise, looks around the darkened car, but there is nothing to see. She leans back against the window, waits. The tunnel seems to go on forever, and then just as suddenly as the space had gone dark, the train rushes out the other side, plunging back into light, and the girl has to squint against the sudden brilliance. When her eyes finish adjusting, she is no longer alone. There is someone sitting in the seat next to her.
The girl frowns at the stranger—all these empty seats to choose from, and she had to sit right next to her. She doesn’t try to hide her annoyance, and the stranger smiles apologetically from under the wide brim of her hat.
“The other seats were taken,” she says, and when the girl furrows her brow in confusion, she adds “The haamut—the ghosts? Can you not see them?”
The girl blinks, looks the stranger up and down, her frustration slipping away. Though the stranger is not much older than her, she is dressed as though she stepped out of a history book: a dark cloak and capelet, the material thick and warm looking—maybe wool, the girl thinks. Brightly colored birds and delicate flowers embroidered in careful stitches decorate the stranger’s garb, and an intricate knot of golden cord clasps it shut. She wears an old-fashioned witch’s hat, adorned with orange and green feathers that match her cloak. The girl isn’t certain, but the feathers look fake: maybe conjured, maybe crafted. They lack some subtle detail of life; no living birds gave these feathers, nor did any die for them. I like her, the girl finds herself thinking.
The stranger leans towards her, squints, and the girl cannot help but notice the freckles that dust the stranger’s cheekbones, the small mole under her left eye. The jagged edge of her bob, as though she cut her hair herself. Her lips.
“I’ll take that as a no,” the stranger says and the girl jumps slightly, and then the stranger asks “Would you like to be able to?”
“What?” the girl asks, trying to brush her distraction aside.
“See the ghosts.”
“The ghosts?”
The stranger laughs, a bright, joyful sound.
“Aren’t you quick?” she teases, and then more gently, “I asked if you wanted to be able to see the ghosts.” After a pause, she adds “It doesn’t much matter if you can’t—they don’t mind sharing space—but they do love it when someone stops and notices them.”
“Yes,” the girl says, and she thinks she might have said yes to anything the stranger asked—but no, she chides herself, she’s smarter than that. She’s not so reckless.
The stranger reaches out and cups the girl’s face in her hands, presses her thumbs gently into the bones beneath her eyes, and the girl forgets how to breathe.
“What–,” she starts, but the stranger says “Shh,” and then she says something in a language that feels like the sound of buzzing flies, that makes the girl’s bones ache—and then everything is too bright, everything is pitch dark, everything is hot and cold and sharp, and the girl has to squeeze her eyes shut. She jerks away from the stranger’s touch, presses a hand to her temple.
“Shit–,” she manages, “what did you do? Why– jumalat, why does it hurt so much??” She fights to keep the rising edge of panic out of her voice.
“Open your eyes,” is all the stranger says.
People fill the metro car, bodies of all shapes and sizes packed together. Tiny keiju perch on the rails that run along the ceiling, and a pair of looming peikko stand in the aisle. All of them are translucent, wispy. The girl cannot make out the features of their faces. An unseen breeze tears at the edges of their forms as though they might dissolve, might be pulled apart at any moment. The faint, distorted sound of laughter and conversation reaches the girl’s ears.
She sees too, though, other things. Some of the messily drawn charms and glyphs that graffiti the seat backs glimmer faintly. Outside, the conduit lines glow. The stranger’s cloak shines faintly. An ethereal form, feline—a house cat, the girl realises—lifts itself from its place on the stranger’s shoulders, and leaps gracefully into the girl’s lap, and when it rubs up against her she can almost feel it.
She looks back to the stranger. “That was Väinämöisen kieli, wasn’t it?” she demands, and when the stranger, startled, manages a nod, the girl grabs her hands, leans in, eyes shining with excitement.
“Teach me,” she says.
———
It is pouring rain, and the girl stands out in it with someone who is no longer a stranger—someone who is now a friend. They have shared their names with each other, now.
What their names are isn’t important. Now, hush– Well of course I know their names, but that’s not the point of the story. What did I tell you about silly questions? Just listen.
As I was saying. The girl’s friend looks up into the rain, and she says something in a language that feels like the sound of cracking bones, that makes the girl’s eyes sting—and then the rain that falls towards her friend slopes away, as though rolling off some invisible surface. She grins at the girl, and the girl smiles back, tries to mimic the sounds, piece together the words she’s learned.
It takes a couple tries, and then there is fire rushing in her veins and her skin feels tight, and the rain above her does not reach her. It pools above her, though, doesn’t run off properly, and then after a minute the girl looks over at her friend and her concentration slips and the puddle of rainwater falls all at once, drenching her to the bone.
There is silence for a moment as she stands there, her dripping hair hanging over her face, and then her friend starts laughing and she is laughing too, and they both stand there in the downpour, laughing until they run out of breath.
———
They are on the metro again. They aren’t going anywhere specific, but they’re going there together, the girl and her friend. They sit next to each other, and the girl plays with a cat named Fish that has used up each of its lives but lingers still to knock crystals and bottles and books off of shelves in her cramped apartment every time her friend visits.
When the doors of the train car rattle open with the tinny ding of the many small bells that hang from them, the girl and her friend leave together on a whim. The girl catches her friend’s hand in her own as they walk, and her friend says nothing, just smiles and bumps her shoulder lightly into the girl’s.
When they pass a vendor on the street with a stall full of fresh fruit, the girl says something in a language that feels like the sound of stone grinding against stone, that makes her spine crawl—and then the vendor’s eyes pass over them without seeing, and she grabs a handful of fruit, a luumu and a fistful of mustikoita, as much as she can hold, and she and her friend run off, giggling, hearts pounding with the fear of being caught until they are safely around a corner, leaning against an alley wall, breathless and grinning.
When the light begins fading from the sky and the streets of the market are crowded with people and lit by hundreds of lanterns, glyphs scrawled on their paper shells, the girl and her friend explore another layer of it all. Fish leads them to it when he darts away to chase a ghostly rat: a spectral market superimposed over the corporeal one. They wander among ethereal stalls, watch haamut of every shape and size bustle about, so full of life even in death.
When the night is dark and the stars burn far above and they are walking back through the crowded streets and the market towards the train station, still hand in hand, the girl’s friend slows her steps. She stops to look at every stall and then ignores the wares, looks only at the girl.
When they stand at the edge of the platform, lit by the moon and stars and the glowing runes scribed into posts that illuminate the station, the girl’s friend reaches out and touches her chin, and then they are looking at each other like no one else exists and the world fades away around them.
When they kiss, it tastes like stolen fruit.
———
Another day, another time, the girl stays in the small building on the outskirts of the city that is full of translucent animals and drying herbs and pieces of half-used parchment, covered in symbols. The girl recognises most of them. She has been teaching her lover her city’s magic, symbolic and written and strict, just as her lover has been teaching her Väinämöisen’s tongue with all its ill defined phrases and shifting meanings.
When night falls, the girl learns that her lover’s body, too, is covered with symbols—glyphs and sigils, charms and runes and characters. They weave in complex patterns over her skin, twist into delicate shapes. The girl runs her fingers over them, traces every line of ink.
———
Years have passed, and the woman who was once a girl stands next to someone who was once a stranger, long long ago—someone who is now her wife.
———
And that’s it. That’s the story. No, it doesn’t end there, not quite, but the rest hasn’t happened yet. Yes, I will tell you once it has. No, I won’t tell you another story tonight. One is plenty. Now go to bed, muru, or I’ll turn your pillows to stone.
#short story#writing#finnish mythology#kind of#magical realism#sapphic#wlw#mood piece#-ish#see i told y'all this one would ACTUALLY be soon :)
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I hope you learned something today.
Kyle has been accepted! Please submit your blog for us to follow!
out of character info
Name/Alias: Sam
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 29
Join Our Discord: Yes
Timezone: est
Activity: 5
Triggers: none, unless you start involving kids and animals sexually, then we’re gonna have a problem
Password: randy marsh is a dilf
Character that you’re applying for: Kyle Broflovski
Favourite ships for your character: I’m down to clown with anyone usually, but I love me some style/kyman
in character info
Full name: Kyle Edom Broflovski
Birthday: May 26th
Sexuality, gender, pronouns: Bisexual(Openly), Male, He/Him,
Age and grade: 18, Senior
Faceclaim:
Appearance: Standing at 6’1” inches, Kyle tends to stand above many of his peers. Through the four years of high school, he shot up like a bean sprout, all awkward limbs and joints. It was as if his legs and arms were growing at a quicker pace than the rest of his body. His body has yet to even out, and Kyle’s legs still make up most of his height, something that delights the ten year old inside him who had wanted to be a basketball player.
Height aside, Kyle is a willowy thing. He’s quite slender, and very much boney. At one point, Kyle was round faced and a little plump, thanks to his mothers cooking. However the trials and tribulations of high school, and living alone in college, have done a number on his weight. Kyle is thin, ribs and knees and elbows all showing quite prominently. He doesn’t like it, though it’s difficult for him to keep any weight on if he does gain it. Across his body, Kyle’s skin is quite pale until he gets into the sun. Unlike many redheads, he can tan quite easily, and does so when the weather is warm and allows him to go outside. He sports no freckles, another oddity for being a redhead, though his abdomen is littered with small pinprick scars from his insulin injections.
Stemming away from his body, Kyle’s facial features often are a cause of teasing and ridicule. The first thing that’s noticed is the mop of thick, ginger curls atop his head. They’ve been a nuisance as far as he can remember, spending most of his youth covering them up with a long since worn away hat. Secondly, Kyle’s nose is prominent on his face. It’s far larger than he would like, often reducing him to plenty of ‘nose with legs’ jokes. At some point he would like a nose job to fix it, despite his dad insisting otherwise. Kyle was not about to trust the opinion of a man who thought his mother was the best looking woman on the planet. No shade to her, but Kyle knew where his bad looks came from, and they weren’t his father’s side.
Perhaps Kyle’s most pleasant aspects of him are the set of deep green eyes, standing out in contrast to his bright orange hair, as well as a plump pair of lips. Small they may be, but Kyle was just grateful they existed at all. They balanced his nose out, which was very much welcomed. There was no way in hell he’d survived if all he got was nose and no lip what so ever.
As far as style goes, Kyle has kept the cable knit sweaters he so desperately loves, though these days he’s taken to buying sizes that fit him a little better. He no longer buries himself under layer after layer, instead taking the advice by the girls he knew to get his clothes properly tailored. The difference was astronomical in how he stood. He’s since expanded his wardrobe from sweaters and whatever ugly piece he could find to sport coats, and, polo shirts, and sweater vests. Paired with tailored slacks or trousers, or a pair of jeans if he managed to find ones long enough for his legs. Though they often fit too tight for his liking.
His more adult and professional style, however, is often thwarted in stores any time Kyle sees the ugliest possible thing. This does tend to result in whoever he’s shopping with having to intervene unless they want Kyle to go around wearing pea green corduroy pants.
Because he will.
Personality:
Kyle is an interesting person, to the say the least. Starting off, he’s an angry young man. Through his childhood, he had quite the temper that never went away. Over the years, with the aid of Cartman’s torment among other things, his fury built. Kyle does his best to manage it. He takes long walks and sabbaticals to calm himself and focus, otherwise he has a penchant for violence. Though it’s quite often that Kyle will throw hands regardless of his anger levels. It doesn’t take much to set him off, and he won’t care much about what takes the brunt of his anger, be it a concrete wall or the nose of whoever he’s arguing with. The evidence is shown in his hands, crooked and bent from being broken over the years.
With that comes some paranoia. Kyle trusts no one, not his family or his close friends. There’s often times where he’s not sure if he can even trust his own judgement or rationale, an annoying voice in the back of his mind questioning his own actions. He blames Cartman, or course. Why else would he spend his life constantly checking over his shoulder, tense and ready to fight if need be? He’d spent his formative years under his torment, often manipulated into doing so willingly. He couldn’t trust himself to not fall into the same routine. He couldn’t trust his peers not to fall into it either.
Because of that, Kyle isn’t necessarily a loyal person. It’s safe to say that he’ll switch sides to fit whatever suits him best, and whichever is the least inconvenience for him. Kyle takes whichever path is most convenient for him. There are exceptions, naturally. He can be manipulated into doing things for the greater good, even if it’s at his own sacrifice. These situations get fewer and far between as he gets older, seeing that it often ends up quite badly for him. From the cow prophecy in the Middle East to his crippling debt from the economy crash, or more recently his attempt at reconnecting and attempting a friendship with Kip Drordy.
He’s not all bad, however. There are plenty of aspects about Kyle that are positive ones. He’s a passionate young man, and is unable to keep his mouth shut when he has something he needs to say. Even against his better judgement, Kyle is hard pressed to keep his opinions to himself. It’s the positive half of his aggressive coin. When the situation is positive or dire, his speeches and opinions can be that of influence, or inspiring. If it was in his interest, he would make an excellent public speaker or politician.
Kyle is an intelligent young man, as well. Unlike his brother, whose intellect comes almost naturally, Kyle has had to work for it from a young age. From self educating to taking extra classes, he’s filled his head with as much knowledge as he possibly can, wanting to excel at something. So he excelled in the classroom, coming out top of his class every year and garnering a scholarship because of it. It wasn’t Yale, a taste that was still bitter in his mouth that got worse when he was reminded of Cartman. At the very least, there was always graduate school. Somewhere he would be running off too the moment he was able to.
He’s desperate for peace. Peace of mind, peace among his family and his peers, among everyone. Kyle will always look for it, and fight for it if need be. Though his preferred method these days is to escape on his own. The years have taught him that, sometimes, the best solution is to simply remove yourself from the situation entirely. This is partially why he’s taken to spending most of his time outside. While many initially suspect Kyle to be exactly what he looks like; a stereotypical nerd, an indoor boy, the type of kid who wouldn’t be caught dead in the sun because they were so used to staying inside.
In fact, he’s quite the opposite. Kyle’s enthralled with the outdoors. It’s a comfort, in any season. The ability to escape to his baser sensations and clear his mind. Living in Denver, the city stifles him more than it had at home in South Park. The same stresses are there, if not more, only they come with the additional sights and sounds and smells. Because of this, Kyle is gone any chance he can get. His friends know his spots by now, since he can never be found in his room. If it’s the weekend, it’s not uncommon not to find him again until Monday morning. Chances are he’s driven back home to South Park for the weekend with his camping gear, spending it with his work and Mother Nature.
Like most people, one could go on for pages about who they are. Kyle is the same, complex as any other, if not more so than some thanks to the seemingly daily ‘adventures’ he and his childhood friends went on.
He’s sacrificial, though he’s self serving. Kyle thinks of himself and his own feelings first, how actions will make him feel before he thinks of how those actions may help people. He’s highly moral, but his morals are often skewed or can be easily manipulated. It’s a reason to never want to enter politics. Kyle is stubborn, matched with his passion and ability to inspire others with his words, these mixed or selfish intentions to try and do good could easily end up doing more bad. He’s quick to anger, as previously mentioned, and doesn’t like to admit he’s wrong.
History:
Kyle grew up in a fairly stereotypical Jewish household. Well, it was fairly stereotypical until he was ten and discovered his fathers very concerning internet hobby. But aside from that, it was Passover baskets, separate cooking utensils for meat and dairy. Absolutely no bacon. Or ham. Or mixing cheese and meat, which lead to a lot of envy over the other children who were able to eat cheeseburgers. But it wasn’t bad. The Christmas holidays often fell over Hanukkah, and even when they didn’t it was a few weeks off of school to bum around with his friends.
Everything with middle school was a preparation for high school, Kyle began to put most of his focus into preparing for high school. With the events of the town starting to slow to a near stop, the years following his childhood was boring by comparison to the shenanigans of times past. It gave him plenty of time to explore more of his interests alongside his school work. His grades remained near perfect, Kyle working to be top of every class and began to put a large amount of his focus into preparing for college. What didn’t go to his studies went elsewhere; camping trips into the woods by Stark’s Pond with the boys, basketball, student council being some of the things he spends his time doing.
As far as his personal relationships went, his friendships with Stan and Kenny remained as strong as ever, Cartman’s as rage inducing. The dating scene had been pushed to the wayside, never having spent too long in one, and all were few and far between. While he’d discovered and accepted his bisexuality in 7th grade, a clumsy kiss with Kevin Stoley* under the bleachers, he hadn’t done much to act on it. A couple odd dates, but Kyle found he would rather prioritize that time to spending it with his friends or other interests.
Headcanons:
- wears reading glasses
- is an absolutely terrifying driver, and no one has any idea how he got his license
- drives his dad’s old prius
- Sheila dotes on Ike, and as a result, Kyle is a “daddy’s boy"
- doesn’t have freckles
- will literally fight anyone at any time
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