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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 1 month

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I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him.

“You’re quiet.”

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer.

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“I like watching you clean.”

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress).

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?”

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.”

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.”

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.”

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Something wrong?”

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?”

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“

“I wasn’t gonna say that.”

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?”

“Can I give you a tattoo?”

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!”

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much.

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.”

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?”

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.”

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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tomlinfonda · 9 months

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"Why are artists so butthurt about AI art? Horse carriage drivers didn't complain when they invented the car, they were just grateful that the technology evolved and made it easier to get around."

Art is not a carriage, it's not a vehicle. Its purpose is not to be efficient, to do a practical job with as little effort as possible. Art is not something that can be automated, because its artistry lies in the humanity of its creator. Art is wonderful, from a baby's first drawing, inexperienced and unskilled, to the paintings adorning the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

If you consider yourself an AI artist, I ask you: are you proud of yourself when the computer has completed another image that you will claim as yours? Do you look at it and feel the joy of having created something?

Does the generative process teach you how to see the world better? With every image created, do you evolve? Do you understand the planes of the face better now than 1000 images ago? Do you know what rim light is, and where to put it? Do you understand light sources? Tones? Could you take a piece of paper and shade a portrait by yourself?

"AI software is just like Photoshop or Blender, the next step in artistic technology".

It's not though, is it? A digital artist uses a pen to put colors on screen, chooses where to put each brush stroke, when to smudge or use the liquify tool. A 3D sculptor manipulates basic shapes into characters just like a traditional artist molds clay. An AI "artist" doesn't make any of the thousands of choices that lead to the creation of a real piece of art.

"But art is hard, and I'm not good enough."

Neither am I! Man, I'm not the worst artist in the world, but I'm not great, still not at the level I would like to be. Sometimes I draw something and I look at it and realize that it sucks ass! Sometimes I post a drawing online and realize that I drew a character out of proportion, that the light source is not consistent, that I've shaded outside the lines! And you know what's great? That I get to have an understanding of what I did wrong! I get to evolve! I redraw something from 5 years ago and realize that my composition is much better, my shading more believable. And I know that in 5 more years, I might redraw it again and pride myself in how much I've evolved.

I've been drawing since I was a baby, and I still have a long way to go. And that is also fine, because art is a lifelong pursuit, growing, changing, just as I am.

It's okay to not be good. Hell, it's okay if you don't even try to get better. By drawing, you WILL. It's inevitable that, by practicing, you'll learn.

You know what will not make you a better artist? Software that will generate your "art" for you. The result might look more complex than what your skill level allows you to create right now. But it doesn't look better. You could draw a crooked circle on xerox paper and it will look better than all the AI art in the world. Because you made it. Have some faith in yourself. Your vision has more artistic value than what that computer generated.

"If you're afraid that AI will steal your job, learn to draw better!"

I'm trying. Are you?

#anti ai art #ai art is not art #ai art is stolen art #ai art is theft

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mangomonk · 8 months

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call me whenever

↳ summary: remus is a clingy lightweight ↳ content: fluff, mentions of alcohol, established relationship from i caught myself, rock band!muggle ↳ a/n: i love writing remus x winnie, i'll prob keep writing more oneshots of them out of order if y'all have any scenario requests!

"Merlin, why do Muggle contraptions always have so many bloody buttons—"

"Did you finish putting her number in? It's 34—"

"Hello?" Winnie asks uncertainly into the receiver.

A pause. And then an overly bright voice, shouting into the phone. "WINNIE! SWEETHEART, JUST THE PERSON I WAS LOOKING FOR!"

"Sirius, you don't have to shout, I can hear you perfectly fine," Winnie sighs, wincing away from the receiver.

"Oh, really?" Sirius sounds genuinely bemused.

Winnie hums. "Where are you calling me from? I don't recognize the number."

"One of those phone-telly boxes," Sirius says. Winnie has to bite her tongue to prevent herself from correcting him. "Anyways, we were— oof." His voice cuts off mid-sentence with a grunt. "I mean, I was wondering if you were home and free right now?"

Winnie hesitates warily. "I am both home and free."

"Brilliant," Sirius sighs. "Do you think you could come and pick up Remus? He's had one too many Firewhiskey's and he's always been such a lightweight—" His voice cuts out for a moment amidst a lot of shuffling. "—and I think he's one wrong look away from biting mine and James's head off— oof."

"Is he with you now? Can I talk to him?"

The shuffling stops abruptly. A pause, before Sirius speaks up again, his voice a little wheezy. "No, he's not out here. Or with me right now."

Winnie's brows shoot up. She bites back a small smile, now able to imagine the two of them squished in a little phone booth. "You guys are at the pub downtown, right?"

"That's the one."

"I'll be there in fifteen," Winnie says, already looking around for her keys.

"Brilliant, we'll— I'll see you then!"

Winnie is about to hang up when she can hear Sirius grumbling on the end of the line. Knowing him, Winnie bets that he left the payphone hanging. "I don't see why you couldn't just send her an owl."

Another voice, heart achingly familiar. "She's afraid of the owl's claws."

Sirius huffs. "You could've just called her yourself then."

"Didn't want to bother—" The line cuts out.

Winnie puts the phone down, smiling widely as she grabs her keys.

— — — — —

When Winnie enters the crowded pub, she spots him immediately. He's slouched on a barstool around a table, head resting in his hand and his long legs kicked out under him. Contrary to Sirius's description, he doesn't look like he's about to murder anyone. He's watching James waving his hands animatedly at Sirius, the corners of his lips twitching.

Winnie steps around the room, careful to hide from his view before she moves behind him. "Come here often?" She whispers into his ear, grinning already.

Remus straightens, his head whipping over to her with such speed that she's a little worried for his neck. Up close, Winnie can see that his cheeks are flushed a rosy pink so pretty that dimly, she wishes she was an artist so that she could capture this view of him. She thinks she could write a song about his pretty flush. "Winnie," he says, mouth curving into a smile, her favorite kind — white teeth flashing, dimples showing. Her heart is squeezing so painfully in her chest, but she's sure that Remus has no idea what he's doing. Remus has never been big on PDA, so Winnie's a little surprised when his big hands start reaching for her hands.

"Hi lover boy," she says, letting him pull her towards him.

"How was your rehearsal?" He's holding both of her hands now, his thumbs rubbing circles against her skin.

"It went well," she says, smiling. "Hi guys," Winnie says to the others.

"Hi darling," Sirius drawls, lips twitching behind the rim of his glass. "You came right on time — another minute and he would have had our heads." James snorts, nodding in agreement.

Remus ignores this, his brown eyes not leaving hers as his fingers reach the sleeve of her turtleneck. "Is this new? I like it," he says, smile turning dopey. "You look lovely, cariad."

Winnie's cheeks go pink, half because of how he's looking at her, pretty eyes soft with unabashed adoration and affection, half because she can see Sirius and James's mouths go slack.

"Merlin, you're in deep, Moony," Sirius exclaims.

Next to him, James makes a gagging sound. "Please spare us and take him home," he begs, but he's grinning. His grin falters when Remus turns to shoot him a withering glare.

"Right, I heard you were in need of a ride home," Winnie says, trying to keep a straight face when Remus turns back to look at her, his expression softened from his previous vitriol.

He's gone puppy-eyed, his eyes big and brown as they stare up at her hopefully. "Let's go home?"

Saying bye to the boys is quick work. Sirius is practically shoving them out of the pub with James making gagging sounds behind him.

As they walk to the parking lot, Remus's arm winds around her waist, his hands fiddling absentmindedly at the knitted material of her turtleneck. It feels as though ever since she's come, he hasn't stopped touching her — not that she minds, of course. When his fingers brush against her skin accidentally, it sends a shiver up her spine.

"Cold?" He asks, already stopping in his tracks to shrug off his jacket. Winnie doesn't bother saying no or pointing out that it's a warm night. Remus has always been endearingly bossy when he's sober — she can only imagine him now refusing to budge until she takes his jacket. Plus, she likes the smell of his jacket. And with the way he can never quite look away from her when she's wearing it or one of his lumpy jumpers, she reckons he gives them to her for his sake too. Remus drapes his jacket over her shoulders, his fingers tugging at the collar.

"Thank you," she says, smiling up at him fondly.

"Were you busy?" He's tugging her even closer now, his arms bracketing around her as he straightens the shoulders of his jacket.

"Never too busy for you," she says meaningfully, reaching up to fluff at his hair affectionately. Remus seems to melt into the action as she threads her fingers into his sun-kissed hair, his warm cheek settling against her palm. His eyes have gone sleepy and soft on her, his lip jutting out stubbornly. God. She wants to kiss him senseless. "You can call me whenever. Owl even, if it keeps its claws off my furniture."

Remus's brows knit together for a moment before his face falls. "You heard?" He asks, lips twitching into a deep frown.

Winnie laughs, squeezing at his cheek. "Sirius is not exactly subtle or good with Muggle technology."

"I didn't want to bother you," Remus admits, letting his head drop forward against her shoulder. He's really too tall for this, but somehow he manages to slouch enough so that he can rest his forehead against her shoulder. "But I wanted to see you."

His honesty makes her stomach do loops. "Yeah?" Winnie hums softly, impossibly endeared. She runs her thumb over his splay of freckles, faint now against the warm tan of his skin. "I always want to see you too, so call me whenever, okay?"

Remus's hands find their way to her waist. "Yeah, okay," he mumbles into her shoulder. He turns his head, his face pressing against her turtleneck. She can hear him inhale deeply. "I don't like this," he grumbles, one hand reaching up to tug gently at the high neck of her shirt.

Winnie blinks. "You just said you liked my shirt," she says accusingly, a little offended now.

"I did," he agrees solemnly, pulling back away from her just enough to look at her with big, sincere eyes. Saccharinely innocent. Then his eyes dart down to shoot her shirt a baleful look, his lips jutting out in the closest thing she's ever seen him get to a sulk. "But now it's in my way."

Winnie can feel her face flush, but she tries to hide it with an arched brow. It fails, clearly, because she can see the way Remus drinks in her flustered expression, his sulk disappearing immediately, lips hitching smugly. "Yeah? Well I guess you'll just have to deal with it because I like this shirt," She grumbles mulishly, pulling away in embarrassment but Remus gently grabs her hands again and sets them firmly on his shoulders. Winnie's stomach is doing flips now.

"I think I can find a way around it," Remus murmurs distractedly, nosing against her jaw and already hooking a finger into the neck of her turtleneck and tugging it down gently to reveal the nape of her neck.

Winnie can't help the happy sigh she breathes out when his lips ghost against her skin, his hair tickling her ear. He presses a firmer, open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone, his fingers still dipping into her shirt. His other hand rises to cradle the back of her head gently, his long fingers threading through her hair as he noses along the nape of her neck, lips soft and ticklish. "My heart," he mumbles against her skin fondly. Affection blooms in her so violently, all she can do is grasp at his shoulders. When she tilts her head back a little to give him more access, she can feel his lips curve into a smarmy smirk. The bastard. ""Shall we go home?"

— — — —

my masterlist!

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bananasfosterparent · 4 months

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For some reason it seems hard for people to understand a magical fantasy couple in a magical fantasy world outside of real life can have a relationship that's:

Evil (selfish)

Unhealthy

Dark

Morbid

Codependent

Posessive

Obsessive

BUT still be:

Functional

Enjoyable for the couple themselves

FULLY HAPPY

A positive experience for the couple

Just because a certain type of relationship will go a certain type of way in real life, doesn't mean it has to in an excapism fantasy where it wouldn't even need to.

Are Ascended Astarion and my Evil Tav a healthy couple that practice safe boundaries and constructive habits? No, absolutely not. Not at all.

Are they content with one another and able to find complete and utter joy in their union and dynamics in a way that is so overwhelmingly positive for both of them? Yes. And that's the fun of it. Since they don't exist in real life, there's no reason for their story to be tragic unless if I wanted it to be. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Nothing about real life matters in this context because I (as the artist and writer for my character and crafter of her story) am not someone who blurs the lines between fantasy and reality, therefore it is safe to indulge in this fantasy and not have to worry about myself wanting to seek this lifestyle in real life.

It's wild to me that so many seem to want to "protect" people from seeing the content and seeking "that sort of relationship" irl. As if it's some infection that will render people mindless. Why think so little of others? Can they not figure out how a block button works? Can they not block tags and keywords? Can they not remove themselves from posts and conversations that make them uncomfortable? Can they not distinguish real life from fantasy? Can they not research BDSM relationship dynamics for real life on their own?

They have google and access to real world communities for healthy couple dynamics in real life. Just as the rest of us do.

While you shouldn't purposely use a trigger against someone, there is no reason for people to censor themselves for roleplaying something innocent and fun, in the way the game intended.

You can disagree, hate AA all you want and that's perfectly fine. But please stop trying to make everyone else who likes him, hate him too. It's counterproductive, it's selfish, inconsiderate, and sometimes borderline victim blaming (when a great many AA fans themselves have trauma experience as well).

Our Tavs and Durges can have a perfectly imperfect relationship with him, be evil and happy with one another as much as we want them to be, and there's no argument against it that makes it a bad, non-canon, or awful thing.

#ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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abridgerton · 1 year

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My Duty, My Honor {Reader x Anthony}

Part 1/?

Word Count: 1.5k+

Triggers: Kissing, suggestive talk, forced marriage

Summary: Lily Wickham was caught with Anthony in a secret rondevouz in the garden, leaving her and the rakinsh Viscount no choice but to get married - even if she detests him.

A/N: Hello! I adore writing for Anthony, and I particularly like where this story is going - so please, if you enjoy reading this, please let me know that it would be worth writing a part two!

~ Sometimes, when I close my eyes I can imagine myself in a world where I am free; someplace where I am not bound to my duty or my family. To love freely with whom I choose - to find happiness in my other half. Oh, I long for the day I find romance and acceptance; for the first time in my life I shall know joy ~

My hopeful dreams of a love match have disappeared entirely as of last night. The Viscount Bridgerton asked for my hand in marriage two twilights ago, and upon the insistence of my mother, I accepted.

When I was a young girl I entertained myself with fantasies of my prince charming - a gallant man who would sweep me off my feet and carry me into the sunset; a man who was decorated with manners and grace, a man who I would be proud to father my children. Viscount Bridgerton is far from what I had in mind. Perhaps my disdain for him stems from the wild cowlick hair that stands up off the back of his head, or that annoying purr in his voice when he speaks.

"Lydia," he panted in agony, "we should not be here..." His shimmering green eyes momentarially connected with mine, as he ran his devilishly dark irises along the length of my body - up and down before landing on my lips, and planting a soft kiss. I have never known such bliss, or such rebellion. Something about the impertinence made him so .. exciting. Anthony was the forbidden fruit, and I could not help but take a bite.

"Something about his arrogant countenance displeases me," I thought as I sat near the foot of my bed, staring at the gold trimmed white wall in front of me. To my right, on the nearby wall sat my families tapistry, woven from the finest gold, green, and red threads my ancient family could source. It displayed my families crest - an ornate display of leopards and snakes intertwining a large shield engraved with the family name, Wickham.

This tapestry was purposefully placed in my chambers as a permanent reminder of my duty to the family. No matter the circumstance, it is my duty to populate my family line - and I must do so by marrying well. As far as Viscount Bridgerton goes, he is head of the wealthiest estate in the county. Though I disapprove of him, I cannot deny the advantages of giving him my hand - a sizeable dowry for my future daughters, a place in society, an esate to own; oh, this life would be any womans dream.

Sometimes , late at night when I'm alone , I envision myself as Viscountess and head woman of the Bridgerton house; I will not jest, the idea of such prestige is a pleasant one. The union would bring me a new wardrobe, fine carriages, and luxury beyond anything I have ever known.

Marriage to this rakish man is my one chance of living in such splendor. Why must it he him that I marry? Why could Colin have not been first born? Or Benedict? Why Anthony?

I would rather resign my life away to an artist or a nomad than a man of such disgusting hubris. Nonetheless, I am the first born daughter of my family, and thus I must secure my position. After all, I will be the one responsible for paying their dowries and assimilating them into society.

What a terrible burden.

"Madam?" My ladies maid loudly called out from behind my chamber room door, "it is time to be dressed."

"Already?" panic resounded through my head, "I'm not ready..."

Despite my internal doubts, I beckoned my ladies maid to join me. As she entered the room, I noticed an emerald green silk gown with silver embellishments sprawled across her arms. I had never seen this gown before, a genuine suprise to me.

"Where did you get this?" I asked the ladies maid in an accusatory tone.

She waited to respond, continuing to lay the wrinkles out on the dress - but after a few beats she met my eyes for a moment, "It was picked up today from the modiste," she answered in a flat tone, "I'm told it was a rush order."

This response was shocking at first, for I did not know my mother was already arranging my marriage wardrobe. It is true - the Viscount and I had a whirlwind romance; it had not even been two weeks after we met that we were declared to be married. It had all happened so quickly that night in the garden ...

I remember the way his fair skin shone in the ambient starlight - his radience illuminating the vines around the garden wall - and the way the flowers around us smelled after the fresh rain that evening. He bewitched me with just one flash of that charming smile, just one glance with him was enough to break down my walls and give myself to him. "You are utterly breathtaking," he whispered into my ear, the heat of his breath warming the full of my lips, "I cannot control myself ..." Even the memory was intoxicating - ruining my head all over again.

It was only a kiss. Just one.

Thats all it took.

Now I will be Viscountess Bridgerton - what a terrifying thought.

I wish so terribly that Mrs. Featherington had not been out for a promenade that night. I wish we would have chosen the library, or the closet, or anywhere more discreet ... but the garden? What were we, animals?

My daydreaming was swiftly interrupted once again by a hughty womans voice, "Ma'am" my maid beckoned, "we really must begin.."

I loudly huffed, forced to remember that my time is never truly my own. "Right," I replied, "we must be going soon." She nodded with me in agreement.

With a heavy sigh, I positioned myself in front of my bed post, and grabbed hold-

"Breathe out!" my maid shouted, "Suck in!" she barked, and I did as I was told. She pulled the laces tighter, and tighter around my chest until I was sure my ribs would snap. What would society say then? Would they say I was unfit to marry due to injury? Perhaps I could befall some tradgedy, so I may spare Anthony and I the impending disaster of this match ...

-she began to work on my hair. I watched as she pinned my long stands of platinum blonde hair into an updo upon the crown of my head. She separated thin locks of my hair into tight spirals, exposing the back of my neck and freeing my shoulders from the weight of my hair. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see the uncertainty written across my features as plain as day. What if he changed his mind and left me jilted? What if we truly were miserable together? Would I be able to love him?

Ouch! I gasped as my maid mistakingly nicked my scalp with a starp hairpin. She immediately recoiled and appologized, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I did not mean to be so careless-"

I met her eyes in the mirror and cut her off, "It's fine, Mary," I let out a small exhale and looked down at the wooden floor below by vanity, "just continue, please." Mary nodded and swifty began pinning my hair again.

I hate the fuss and the frills and the dancing that is expected of a lady. Its all so ... dramatic! Why should I be forced to ready myself for hours to be considered presentable to society? Why should I not be given the privilege of skipping out on events of the ton like my brothers?

As much as these questions bothered me, I could not focus on them for too long. Mary had finished my hair and powder, which meant I was officially ready to be transported. Mary placed her hand gently on my right shoulder - just next to the lace trimming of my dress, and spoke, "M'lady, its time." I rose from my chair with a grim expression and began straigntening out the front of my dress.

I could not let the Viscount see me in such a distressed state.

"One. Two. Three," I counted slowly, "inhale, exhale .."

"Okay," I said to Mary, "I think I'm ready."

She turned to me and smiled with her dark lips curled into a delicate smirk and her eyebrows tightly drawn. Perhaps she saw the desprate look on my face, or the small bead of sweat forming on my brow, because she felt the need to remind me of my duty.

"You know what you must do," Mary whispered as she grabbed my hands, "you know what must be done."

Her words awoke something in me - something dutiful and ancient. Like my mother, and her mother, and back and back and back, I would marry well and secure my position for my future children.

Though these things were true, I might as well have been walking to the gallows. This was the end of my feedom; my secret horseback rides at dawn, lonesome walks into town, silent nights - these would all be stolen from me within the confines of marriage. My life would never be my own.

One stolen moment in the garden left me bound to a man I could not detest more. The heavens must be frowning upon be in this moment.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #edwina sharma #king george #violet bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #period drama rp #period drama #regency era

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safety-pin-punk · 8 months

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Damn its like people aren’t allowed to have an opinion on this site.

So instead of relenting, I will repeat myself. I did not misread the post. I understand the post was saying that being punk requires both enjoying punk music and being inherently leftist. I get that. Really I do. I just. Do not agree with it. Sue me.

Punk is SO much more than just a music genre. (Though yes I am FULLY AWARE that it is a music based culture. And it started because of the music. And etc etc etc.) i’ve actually written an entire post on EVERYTHING ELSE INVOLVED IN PUNK CULTURE BESIDES THE FUCKING MUSIC (you can find it here)

I simply, in the year 2023. Do not understand WHY you would so heavily enforce the idea that someone HAS to like punk music to be a punk. If there are two people who are dressed alternatively, and engaged in leftist actions, it doesnt matter which of them likes punk music. To the outside world, both of them are troublesome punks. Hell punk used to just be a word used to refer to gay people. I hate the idea that there is this defined line between who qualifies as punk and who doesnt. Its a word with a definition. Words and definitions change and evolve over time. Get over it.

And even going back to just punk music. What even is punk music? How do you define the genre?? You dont! Because its SO diverse!!!!!! The only common thread is that the lyrics have leftist values! And if you want to go that route, a lot of hip hop artists or old country songs are actually SUPER leftist!! But you wouldnt call them punk. Is it the distorted sound? Well distortion goes all the way back to rock music in the 60s!! (And honestly probably further). The use of the word punk to describe music doesnt even start with punk music in the 60s/70s! IT GOES ALL THE WAY BACK TO 1899

Sure we can all look at the Sex Pistols and agree that is punk music by a classic punk band. But what about Green Day? Or is that just alt rock? Or Rage Against the Machine? Are they too metal despite their obvious punk influences? Do you see what I mean??? Its all alternative. To anyone outside of these subcultures they dont care. It just. Gets WAY too gatekeepy for me with these kinds of stupid arguments. Just let people listen to whatever the fuck they want. I’d rather call someone listening to pop music but hates cops with a burning passion and is willing to do something about it a punk than someone more concerned about peoples music tastes than actual fucking problems in the world.

And you dont have to agree with me. Thats fine. You are entitled to your opinion as well. But next time, instead of assuming I’m stupid and being a prick about it, how about you just unfollow. Cause you can do that. Hell if I really annoy you, theres even a button to block me!

#rant #okay yeah I popped off a little too much its just really fuckinh annoying when people assume I cant read #no #ive just formed my own opinion on the topic

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tater-tot-jr · 4 months

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I think I should put in my two cents considering the Hazbin hotel leaked Angel Dust clip. I’ll say that this post should be one absolutely massive trigger warning. If you’re sensitive please don’t read this, I’m pretty blunt. Also I’m only talking about a small leak but SPOILERS!!!

So before I make any points I’ll start by saying that I’m not an inherent fan of vivziepop, this isn’t meat riding, it’s a genuine attempt at open conversation and discussion. I’ll also say I’m a survivor myself and while I don’t claim to speak for anyone else I have some ground to stand on here. I completely understand that people can be triggered by this type of imagery and will at least skip this particular scene or episode, I promise I’m not talking about you guys.

You wanna know who I am talking about though? The weird ass moral police I’ve been watching mobilize. It’s crazy how people are making a big deal out of this. I’ve seen three arguments and all of them are terrible in themselves and being used to justify terrible behavior.

I’ve only seen people claim three major things, this is a bad depiction of a s/a survivor and situation, this is something that’s too graphic and immoral to put in a TV show, the fact that the singing and dancing lightens the tone in a way people find distasteful. I’m going to be trying to prove why I find these arguments mostly ridiculous and unfounded.

As for argument one, s/a survivors come in all shapes and sizes and hyper sexuality happens to be an incredibly common reaction to sexual trauma. I haven’t watched episode one and two but even if I had I’d still have too small of a sample size to determine the entire tone of an incredibly messed up complex dynamic between too incredibly interesting and layered characters. It’s ridiculous to have so many assumptions and expectations of an *11 second leaked clip.*

Secondly. Creative freedom is possible the most important thing in art. If we didn’t have the freedom to put what we wanted on paper or on screen then we wouldn’t have had so much societal change recently. Just because you might find something distasteful and immoral doesn’t mean it absolutely has to be hated on and removed. It’s okay to not like things because you find them gross, it’s okay to not enjoy graphic depictions of serious subjects, it’s not okay to start internet wars over moral bullshit. It’s okay to be mad in silence sometimes, guys.

Thirdly. I kinda get this one, I don’t agree with it but I do understand the point. The idea you don’t want a serious subject framed with a sexy pop song is not inherently bad, it’s just something that makes me think you wouldn’t have liked Hazbin Hotel anyway. I actually appreciate the fact they are using the creative medium to make bold and shocking decisions but I get some people are sensitive to new things, that’s fine. Where this argument gets ridiculous is when people act like this is very out of line for a show like this. This isn’t a Saturday morning kids cartoon it’s and adult animated show about people in hell. It’s highly likely that this won’t be the worst thing we see, you either need to heed the trigger warnings at the beginning of each episode or get over it.

You’ll notice that I didn’t bring up anything about the merchandise pins or the storyboard artist, I did this because they aren’t arguments but barely related attempts at character assassinations. When you spend five minutes thinking about them critically you come to realize that there is nothing substantial to those arguments.

I’d like to finish up talking about how I think this scene is doing more good than harm. It’s important to make people uncomfortable when you’re talking about things so horrible like s/a and rape. It shouldn’t be meek and palatable for a general audience, it should upset you. I remember hearing something in a video game once that stuck with me. There was a character who said that when you’re sick you need strong medicine and that the strongest medication is very bitter.

I think episode four will be some very bitter medicine.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #feel free to leave a comment if you disagree #it’s important to engage in discussions and I’d love to hear some other perspectives #if you leave a comment with arguments against any points I made I’ll do my best to respond to you with a potential counter argument #and it should go without saying that if I watch the episode and realize I’m completely wrong I’ll post a public apology

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sircesimblr · 4 months

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Manon: Pardon me?!

Stam: What kind of a suit is that?!

Klaus-Ove: Me? Mine?

Manon: Why, yes!

Orbin: Mine, probably.

Stam: Orbin! You're positively reeking of mothballs! Don't - ugh, don't even think of coming near Rachel in that thing. You'll ruin your... why! am I even saying this?

Orbin: Sorry. It's my father's wedding suit. He wore it on the happiest day of his life. I don't own a suit myself so I figured it "suits", haha, to borrow it, for a special day like this. Don't I look, like, "flashy"?

Manon and Stam: "Flashy"?

Manon: Oh, my eyes are hurting me, Mr. Larsen. I cannot look at you. Flashy? Those colours are thunder flashes to the soul. You may be artistic, little pup, but this isn't exactly a display of good taste and modesty!

Klaus-Ove: And why not?

Manon and Stam: Why not?!

Klaus-Ove: People, look at the big picture. Squint your eyes. I am just a simplified representation of this breathtaking nature all around us: the green and mustard grasses, the grey skies and waters, my seven ginger strands of hair, hahaha. I could've gone a little more with the greys, I admit. But imagine Rachel next to me. She's got her hair up. She wears a long dress, like, teal, or soft flaxen... white? Would she not be the only one, anybody would be looking at, next to me? Exactly. And nothing would make me happier. Mr. Stam "let me show some more of my chest so everyone will notice how hot I am" Hardenes!

Stam: I.. I... Oh, shut it.

Klaus-Ove: Hahaha, just teasing, man. You don't care about looks, I know, it's okay, you probably lost a button when you changed. I'll help you look for it later.

Manon: Oh, this is terrible. Absolutely terrible. My apologies, dear Rachel, this was a true misreckoning on my part. Please, please, erase their formal appearance from your mind when this is over... They were such fine, charming gentlemen before... Do - I urge you - do take them to a taylor's first, before you'll debut with either of them in society! Now, gentlemen, let's not prolong this and take our leave. A final bow, a kiss, to our esteemed lady!

And with that, Miss Rachel Murray, I feel my little adventure, my story about love, is coming to an end.

It wasn't an easy task, but I'm honoured to feel a little of what it must have been for you. My big little nibbles, presenting their solemnest of hearts to only you, dearest and loveliest you. By now they're all behaving like loosened hosiery, pardon me, but you've seen them. Their ways and wishes, words and dreams, and in between the lines, who they truly are.

Dearest Rachel, I wish you the very best of luck. Meeting my gentlemen, and the many more that seek your friendship and affection. Have fun, dear girl, on your journey. I bow to you too. And please, let me, or let my Watcher know some day, how it all turned out for you. It's not only love, it is life.

So, good-day, Watchers, Authors and Readers! Thank you so very much for spending your time with us. And now: back to our own worlds.

(behind the scenes:)

The gentlemen: Thanks, Miss de La Haye. A bow and a kiss for you too. Here. Here!

Manon: Stop it. Stop it.

The gentlemen: Well done! Good job. Rachel will be over the moon. We'll take it from here! But we'll forever and always be your big little nibbles too.

Manon: My heart. My goodness. Give me a minute to breathe, to recuperate, before our Watcher just magically poofs us back to where we came from. Please excuse me, lovelies. This is not the easiest thing to say good-bye to...

My big little nibbles. This desolate, lovely island. My heart, my heart, connecting with these gentle souls, like it does with each and every one of my children... it's, it's - how did I ever get to experience this? How do I go back to Praaven remembering this? Knowing these kind of men exist, knowing this kind of love exists, ready to be given to one special woman... Not me...

How do I live on, with all this inside of me?

What... And what... if she makes me... forget? What if my Watcher makes me forget this ever happened, when she sends me back?!

Heavens, no! To forget what became so dear... I don't want to, no... she can't - is that hell? Will she truly send me through hell, to get back?! All of us?!

My goodness, my goodness!! May the heavens help me!!

Stam: Guys, something is wrong with our hostess. She's having a ... meltdown? Miss! Miss de La Haye, are you alright?!

Orbin: Miss de La Haye? Are you in pain?

Klaus-Ove: Miss de La Haye!

(prev)

#a man for rachel #@kimmiessimmies #intermezzo AU mini story #that's it!#we'll see what happens over on kimmiessimmies' simblr!#and don't worry about manon #she came through hell remembering nothing but she awoke with a sudden strong determination #to raise her little nibbles a little different than she used to do #she would send a whole different generation of men into Praaven's historybooks!

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afraidparade · 1 day

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✨ How often do you draw?

🌊 What’s the hardest thing for you to draw?

📚 How many layers do you typically use?

☕ Do you do warmup sketches before drawing? (Bonus: do you have any to share?)

📏 What’s your go-to canvas size?

🖍️ When did you start drawing? Do you remember?

My bad, if this is too much for one ask, oops.

ur art tastes like Lays or Ruffle flavours, I dunno why but it does. oki bye

✨ - i usually draw every day, but since i’ve been busy & art blocked it’s gone down to maybe three times a week

🌊 - i’ve always been pretty trash at drawing backgrounds/props, but i’m trying to get myself to actually draw them more and more rather than using the csp 3D model shortcut

📚 - i am so weirdly economical about my layers LOL i’ll make things harder for myself just so i have fewer layers, i’d say the average is 3-4 (sketch, colors, lines, and text if there’s any dialogue)

☕️ - sometimes, but i either get carried away and end up finishing + posting it, or it’s just complete nonsense and gets deleted immediately

📏 - 2000 x 2000, 300dpi, sometimes i’ll end up trimming it down while drawing though

🖍️ - i’ve been drawing for as long as i can remember, though i recall that being 3 and drawing an apple tree with crayons was the first time i consciously thought “i want to be an artist”

also, you’re fine! this was a nice way to wake my brain up lolol. also thank you i like ruffles (lays are on thin ice), i’ve always been a wavy potato chip truther. people just don’t understand that the optimal potato chip has texture 😒

#asks #ask game

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zombieekittens · 6 months

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Wanted to jump on here and make a positive post, since I saw a post targeting newer comic artists.

I just want to say that just because you see people talking badly about Asmundr / Home ( and yes I’m using this one as an example because it is a very popular comic. ) don’t feel discouraged. Cause the thing here is, we’ve all tried to help Kique, in the 10+ years he’s been making his series. As a new writer, you WILL learn more and more as you write and create your comics, because honestly, I can overlook A-LOT of things in a comic as long as it has a good story to follow. Art / the overall design of the comic doesn’t really matter to me, again, as long as it has a good story I can read a comic with stick figures all day lol. The problem here with Kique and why everyone rips into him, is because he is not new to this. He has been doing comics for a decade now and is only getting worse at his craft. Nobody can give him an ounce of criticism or you will be booted from his circle and possibly even banned from reading his comic. As an artist or writer who develops things for the public, you will need to expect criticism. 80% of the time it’s from other people who are genuinely trying to help. The other 20% are actual trolls, because unfortunately they’re out there. I can understand with Kique why he may feel attacked sometimes, but if someone is just pointing out something that doesn’t make sense and you give them the ban hammer, yeah, you won’t step off on the right foot with the public lol. I will say, I am trying to write a comic myself and I have spent MONTHS trying to perfect the plot before I even start on it. If you’re going to make a role play comic, that is fine, but at least specify that in your description. We all believed Kiques sequel was going to be another part of the Asmundr story, but come to find out it’s is basically the Sims game in comic / animal version lol.

To be honest, Kique sets the bar extremely low for what it takes to be a comic artist. If anything, people should use it as an example of what not to do. Again, we’ve all tried to help the guy, but he takes it as a personal attack and goes extremely over the top to get back at people, which is extremely immature. Bottom line here is, produce your comics, if it makes you happy. Don’t let what you see affect your comics about the critics pointing guns towards Kique because trust me, he pointed first lol. And again, I can over look a lot in a comic if it has a good story and a plot that makes sense and carries the story well.

#asmundr #home comic #kique #kique7 #home #kique nordin #kiquenordin #bit of a vent #drawing #asmundrcomic #asmundrhome

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happyinjection · 1 year

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♠️♥️High Card Short Story 4 “The Hectic Daily Life of Wendy Sato” (2/3)♦️♣️

Stopping at a ramen shop for lunch, Wendy came across the familiar faces of Finn and Chris.

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1537269060185993218

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

Vijay’s chai seemed to permeate into every pore of my being, I felt so much more energized after I drank it.

As I was the office manager, naturally the morning is the busiest time for me given that the number of customers peaked in the afternoon. I made some progress, but when I glanced at the clock, it was almost noon before I knew it.

“Wendy, go take a lunch break.”

Leo said as he kept his eyes on his laptop.

“Eh...... I still have work to do, though.”

“You always say that and end up missing lunch. I’ve already said you can go. Aren’t you supposed to do as your boss says?”

“No, but..... ah, Leo. In the afternoon I must attend the usual appointment with the president, and then tomorrow there’s also a meeting with the manager of head office—”

Leo waved his hand lightly without bothering to look over, shooing me away.

“Fine, fine, I got it. I’m going now.”

♠️♥️♦️♣️

It had been a while since the last time I went out for lunch at this hour. Most of the time, I skipped it altogether due to not having much time to spare, or simply bought whatever I could get my hands on at the store.

That’s why today I picked a place which I’ve been interested in for some time. I took a seat near the counter. However.

“..........ugh.”

“Oh, Wendy. It’s rare to see you having lunch out.”

“Heh, it’s you again. So you're craving for ramen too, huh—”

The place I entered was a popular ramen shop. In the afternoon, it was usually bustling with customers that people had to line up, and thus since I felt uncomfortable eating by myself, I thought it was the perfect time to try it out, but...

“Finn said he’d never had ramen before, so I brought him along.”

“Yeah, I’m hella pumped!”

I rested my elbow on the table, sighing.

“Of all people, why must it be you two who caught me...”

“Huh? What’s wrong with getting caught eating ramen?’

Finn looked confused, but Chris quickly cut in.

“Finn, you idiot. At her core, even Wendy possesses the heart of a lady.”

“What a roundabout way of putting it.”

“Finn. One remark such as that could spell your own demise. Those words may as well be the last message of your soon-to-be-dead senior, so make sure to never forget them.”

“Can you please stop pinning me as a dangerous guy in front of Finn?”

Suddenly Finn made a face as if he just remembered something. “Oh, right, I wanted to ask you, Wendy.”

“..........What is it?”

“Uhhh. You see, about that dish you like so much. Ehh~ What do you call it? Chris, that thing, y’know. That,”

“Oh, that. It’s that thing, ain’t it, that.”

“Yeah, exactly that! So what is it called? That thing?”

“What is it again. Let me think. That thingy? Thingy-thing?”

“Damn you, stop playing! You know exactly what I meant! The thing!”

“Just what are you guys on. Are you talking about takoyaki?”

“That’s it! Tako-yaki! I want to try it too!”

“Wendy’s got a takoyaki maker at her place, let me tell ya—”

“Do you usually eat takoyaki at home?”

“Takoyaki is not something you usually eat alone at home, isn’t it.”

“Don’t make it sound like it’s common sense, how am I supposed to know. You know what, maybe you should bring that takoyaki maker to the office sometime.”

“Ooh~ Sounds like a plan. So there’s gonna be a party. I want to join, can I invite some girls?”

Chris put on a pointless show of fixing his collar.

“Yaaay! It’s a tako-party!”

“Hahaha, don’t get too excited, Finn. Hahaha.”

“Not a chance! We’re going to get everything covered in grease.”

“Told ya there’s no way I could’ve known that. Hey, Chris, let’s pester Leo later. Deep down he’s still a kid, I bet he would become elated at the mention of a party.”

I let out a long sigh.

“The thing is, Leo would never allow such a—”

“Hush, Wendy. I don’t care about what you think. It should be acceptable if it’s the manager himself who wants to throw a party, is it not.”

“Yeah. Wendy’s a samurai, so she would never disobey the whims of her superior.”

“Woah, samurai! Also, harakiri! Bushido! Onigiri! Harasho!”

“You, are you stupid or what. The last one’s clearly wrong.”

Chris and Finn were having a blast on their own.

“I’m guessing you’re going to drag Vijay into this too, aren’t you? He won’t approve of it.”

“Uh-huh! Vijay!?!? Feed him leeks!”

“Exactly, just give him some leeks and he will be happy. Wait. Do takoyaki have leeks in them?”

“Why is Vijay so fond of leeks, anyway?”

Just then, our ramen orders were brought in and placed in front of us. Bundles of noodles steeped in transparent golden broth, with garnish arranged neatly on top.

“Woow~ looks tasty! Itadakimasu!”

My hunger had got to the point where it became unbearable, so I immediately put my hands together.

“What’s that, some sort of ritual?”

Once again, Finn had a confused look on his face.

“Back at home, we often say ‘itadakimasu’ and ‘gochisousama’.”

“I see. Then I’ll do it too. Itadakimasu!”

Finn put his hands together as well while still holding his chopsticks.

“Eat your heart out, Finn! Today’s meal is a treat from your senior Wendy! Grab some more eggs!”

“When did I ever say that!”

“Ya....hooo......”

Finn brought the noodles to his mouth in one awkward movement using his chopsticks. And then, after a moment’s pause,

“So good!”

He flashed me a boyish grin. Following that, it occurred to me.

“Hang on, Finn. You’re not holding your chopsticks right.”

“Huh? So what, does it even matter.”

As he fiddled with his chopsticks, Chris commented,

“I can’t believe there are still people who can’t use chopsticks nowadays. You can find them at any Asian restaurant, can you not.”

“I rarely eat out. Come to think of it, Lindsey had once made us use chopsticks during mealtime when we were learning about food in different cultures.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’ve used them before?”

“Not really. I fled from home that day. They’re such a hassle and making it difficult to eat.”

“Well, practice makes perfect. You will be able to hold them properly once you’re familiar with them. Here, try holding them like this.”

I grabbed on his wrist and corrected his position. While maintaining the new stance, Finn tried to pick up a mouthful, but the tips of his chopsticks were visibly shaking.

“..........It’s insanely hard to eat like this, though.”

“As long as you practice, you would definitely get used to it. Do your best.”

“There you go, the moves of a master swordsman!”

While Chris took the opportunity to tease me, Finn yelled out his frustration.

“Enough! This is impossible! I’m just gonna use a fork!”

“You’re no longer a kid, Finn. Watch this, my smart, elegant, slightly risky chopsticks wielding technique.”

Chris wildly swung his chopsticks around to all directions with one hand.

“Ooh, cool!”

“Listen, it is no different to driving a car. Move your fingers passionately, like how you would treat a woman.”

“You two have no manners! Come on, the noodles are getting soggy! Eat up then leave!”

“But you took part in our conversation too, right.....”

“J-just as he said, Wendy.”

The moment I shot them a glare, both of them shrugged in unison and went quiet, then began slurping on their ramen.

Once we had finished our ramen, the three of us drank tea before returning to the branch office. I let Chris pay for our bills.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: I’m in no way a professional translator so if you find any mistakes, please do not hesitate to inform me right away. I love the High Card gang and I found it very unfortunate that while it is meant to be a multimedia project, I can’t seem to find the translated versions of any materials (beside the anime) anywhere (if this is against copyright, I will take it down). Hopefully this small TL would help international viewers gain better understanding of HC universe and characters. The author of these SS himself said that he hoped fans would have their “so that’s what it is!” moments when they watch the anime after reading his short stories. So with that in mind, let’s enjoy High Card together~

#highcard #high card #short story #hcss #wendy sato #finn oldman #chris redgrave #translation

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turnthemasunder-if · 8 months

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Happy STS! But oh no! One of your characters has been stabbed! What chaos does this bring about? Who's been stabbed, who did the stabbing, who yanks the sword out without thinking, etc.? ♥️

Hello Tori thank you for the ask and I apologize for not answering your first ones been busy haha. So reading this made me laugh(Alot) because on the crew's line of job its very stabby Hazard lol.

Let's try to interview them shall we.

(Chase) Author- Hey buddy I got an ask?(Seeing a scissor on his arm)

Chase- Oh this? It's nothing(Waving it off) tried hitting a girl on the way home.

Author- What does this girl looks like?( Inquire getting curious)

Chase- Wellll...She's wearing a mask and carrying a scissor for some reason and oh she has the biggest smile you ever seen( He says happily.

Author- Uh huh!...It seems that you have met Ms. Kuchisake-onna and let me guess she ask if she's beautiful and you replied no?

Chase- Yup(Removing the scissor on his arm) but I was gonna say she's hot and well she stabbed me on the arm and run off. I feel so wozzy!(Then he fall faced first to the ground passing out maybe from blood loss)

(Charles)

Author- Hey there princess!(Waving him off)

Charles- Damn it! How many times do I have to say to you bastards that don't call me that!(He says and plucking out some glass shards on his hands)

Author- Are you alright?(Eyeing him with concern)

Charles- Am I alright?( He ask exasperated) I swear MC will be the death of me and I think they're doing it on purpose just to smite me! I mean who is on thier right mind will be jumping out of the window?(He chuckles crazily)

Author- At least you surivived?( I don't really know how to comfort him lol))

Charles- Oh yes I'm grateful for that(He rolls his eyes) MC landed on pillows while I landed my ass on beer bottles(He begins to walk away and muttering along the way)

Author- Oh one more thing Charles

Charles- WHAT?!

Author- (Stifling a laugh) Careful your leaking(Pointing to the blood on the floor)

Charles- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! KILL ME NOWWWW(He continues to laugh along the way)

(Angel)

Author- Heya Angel?(Seeing a finger missing on her hand)

Angel- Oh this? I just got out from playing Five Finger Fillet(She brandishes her stump in front of me)

Author- I see your having fun( I chuckle)

Angel- Oh yeah! You have seen the cheating bastard when I rip his fingers one by one( He grins and retrieving a knife from her belt)

Say fancy for a match?

Author- No thanks I rather keep my fingers where they are

Angel- Your no fun Author(Pouts) Oh well maybe Charles or Chase will want to play

Author- Charles is having his tantrums and removing glasses from his body and Chase is passed out on the floor right now!

Angel- Passed out eh? Well I'm feeling rather artistic today so if you excuse me I'm just gonna draw lots of dicks and slurs on his snoozing face(Laughs maniacilly)

(Maria)

Author- The last but not the least our cute bunny(searching for her)

Maria my fellow countrysister how are you doing this fine night?

Maria- If you count being stabbed a lot fine! Well I'm peachy!(She says sarcastically)

Author- What happened?

Maria- Oh nothing much just out patrolling and got ambushed by those bloodsuckers and using a kid as hostage!( she nurses a bruise on her cheek with ice)

So letting my guard down they stabbed again and again and again. So I got pissed and killed them all except for one and stabbed a lot for payback

Author- Remind me not to get on your bad side(Distancing myself from here!)

Maria- Oh yeah that reminds we can I find Charles?(She stands up from a chair with a dark look on her eyes)

Author- In his room why?(Poor...poor Charles)

Maria- Let's just say we have unfinished business and I don't like the words he used on me(Cracking her knuckles) and did something horrible to my stuffs.(Leaving me alone and exacting her revenge)

Author- Well that's all folks I hope you love my crazy cast and for those Charlesmancers out there well better pray for his soul LMAO

#charles #maria #angel #chase #thanks for the ask #ask me anything

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bonesandthebees · 3 months

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YEAHHHH LMAOO that was the only time I've sent an ask on anon idk why I was so anxious that day LMAOOO

Tho I will say I've debated asking this one question to u so many times and everytime I wanna go on anon but then I realise it would not. Make any sense . If I was on anon so I've just refrained from asking lmaoo (which wow brain as soon as I typed this I've forgotten the question. Good job brain)

ANYWAYS MHMHMHM it's of a strawberry flower!! It's genuinely just such a gorgeous tatt I'd want it for myself even if it wasn't matching so I feel very comfortable getting it in the case we ever split up or anything <3

OOHHH THANK YOU YES PLS FEEL FREE TO GIVE ADVICE I AM ALWAYS LOOKING FOR MORE both for traveling solo in another country (I am Scared) and also tattoo after care?? Like. It's gonna be above my ankle how careful of socks/pants should I be :000

I mean if you ever wanna go on anon to ask me something that's totally fine I get it, and also if you're ever worried about asking me something just know that if I ever don't want to answer a question for any reason (ie: the answer isn't something I want to divulge publicly, I don't feel comfortable talking about that subject, I feel like I just don't have a good answer, etc.) I just won't answer it. it doesn't mean I'm going to hold a grudge against someone who asks me something I don't wanna answer. I get it, people are curious or have questions or whatever and that's fine! if I don't wanna answer I simply won't and that doesn't mean I'm upset or annoyed or anything like that

oooo a strawberry flower sounds so pretty!! I'm sure that's gonna look amazing

okay advice time for travel + tattoos under the cut bc it got long

oh yeah I was gonna say you're from canada right? I think going through customs is a bit easier for US/Canadian citizens traveling between the two countries, but still good luck with the lines. other advice I have for traveling in another country solo... while you might consider getting your currency exchanged, almost everyone and everywhere takes card these days so as long as you have a card that can be used internationally (I believe mastercard and visa are pretty much usable in every country, although I'm sure if it's just between the US and Canada most cards are fine, just make sure to check). but also if you do wanna do currency exchange, wait until you're in the US to do that or else you'll get ripped off. once you're in the US just go to an ATM and withdraw cash from your bank account, and it'll come out in US dollars without the additional fee you'd get from going to a currency exchange place

OKAY TATTOO TIPS

I think most tattoo artists these days use second skin after giving someone a tattoo. it's basically a sticky thin sheet of plastic that the artist will put on top of the tattoo after it's finished, and usually your artist will instruct you to leave it on anywhere from 24 hours to several days. any artist worth their salt will properly explain how long to keep it on for, what to expect and look out for, etc. the second skin will protect the tattoo so you won't have to worry about it rubbing against fabric in the initial few days after getting it. although I'll say taking that stuff off is a BITCH it's like peeling a bandaid off but so much worse

however, your artist might not use second skin. out of my five tattoos, only two of the artists I've been to used second skin which is apparently unusual because from what I've heard from tattoo artists is that it's pretty much standard at this point to use it. however because only my latter two tattoos used second skin, I didn't realize that I have reactions to second skin that make it not suitable for me to use. you might have a reaction as well and that's ok! for me at least my reaction wasn't anything bad, it's just that I noticed a lot of redness around the second skin and when I took it off (earlier than I was supposed to) it left marks around my tattoo that didn't go away for 6 months. so yeah in the future if I go to an artist and they want to use second skin, I'm going to refuse because I've healed 3 tattoos perfectly fine without it. so if your artist doesn't use second skin (and tbh even if they do because you'll need this once you take the second skin off) buy some aquaphor. your artist is probably going to instruct you to wash the tattoo with antibacterial soap 2-3 times a day, and afterwards you should put a thin layer of aquaphor on top of the tattoo to protect it and soothe any dryness or scabbing. it might seem annoying to wash a tattoo so many times a day, but trust me once it starts scabbing you're going to want to wash it because it itches and the aquaphor calms it down.

having the tattoo on your ankle might be tricky since it's too cold to wear shorts, and the hem of your pants might rub against it. try to wear pants that are looser around your ankles (no skinny jeans or leggings) so that the fabric doesn't irritate it. and try to wear socks that don't touch the tattoo.

above all though, your tattoo artist should be able to tell you everything I just told you. don't be afraid to ask them questions. they want your tattoo to heal nicely bc that's their work! and just in general don't be shy to talk to your artist. my first two tattoos aren't bad by any means, but I don't love them because I was too anxious to properly communicate with my artist about what I wanted. don't be afraid to ask them to change something in the design, or if they put the stencil on and you want a different placement tell them! your artist is there to work with you so just talk to them :)

okay that got so much longer than I meant it to hope that helps!!

#ask #icyfox17

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contentexplorer · 4 months

Text

Hello Tumblr

Well, I am one year old.

After watching Dragon Ball Super SuperHero and letting my curiosity lead me to this place known as Tumblr last year, I can say it has been a fun and inviting experience to be on this platform. I've never had this kind of interactive and social outlet ever in my life. My creativity and ideas developed or were expressed in ways I never thought I was capable of doing; my discovery of all these talented artists, writers, opinions, everything I find on Tumblr has me feeling excited, attentive, and more curious each time I'm online. And all the support, likes, reblogs, and comments from all you wonderful people just make it worthwhile. It truly has been a blast of a year to be on here. : )

So that's why it saddens me that I will be inactive following the new year of 2024. : (

I've been considering this course of action for a while, and I've fully decided to go through with this.

Allow me to explain: The bottom line is stuff has come up. I don't feel comfortable to specifically state what that 'stuff' is, but I can assure you all that it's nothing life-threatening or life-shattering. Situations have arisen for me, and honestly, they're the kind of problems that I could ignore and still be fine. But that way of responding just doesn't sit well with me. I have to deal with them, so the issues won't build up over time and bite me back in the future. Unfortunately, that requires of me to cut my time here.

I wish to say that I'll return and resume my activity, but even I can't guarantee that. My process, if you will, will be of me accomplishing each obstacle, but once done, they'll lead to more handling of their consequences, both positive and negative. Coming back here: I just don't know.

But in case I don't return, I want to say something: When I started my account I had no intention of making posts or interacting with anyone. I just wanted to see what you guys were writing/making about Dragon Ball (The K18 material, TBH), like it, and have some asks of my own. But thanks to the suggestions and informative answers from @fantasyrecolors / @thefantasylife (you're the best), I put more effort into distinguishing myself from a bot to an actual person.

I figured I would repost stuff I liked and write the occasional, original post about anything on my mind, never having ambitions of being popular or affecting the Dragon Ball Tumblr community. But when I posted my Android 18 Not You Meme, you guys liked it and that just made me feel so appreciated. It was just an idea I had which I wanted to put out there. That inspired me to be more involved in this Dragon Ball Community. You see, I'm a dork, but I've always been one solo. I never had anyone to ask their opinions or say to them I enjoy their fan-work about a property we both enjoy, and vice versa. But as I continued to settle and develop my blog, I just kept finding so many incredible individuals here with their fabulous art, engaging stories, intriguing takes, and hilarious jokes. And these people/you guys took time to see and support what I brought to the table. Even beyond the Dragon Ball series. I felt inspired and motivated by that to keep doing what I could to support and join this rad community.

And I mean where to start with the list of creatives here:

-Dragon Ball Meta/Ultra Dork

-SweetEscapeArtist

-LongMonthArtist

-IncognitoMan1-2-3-4

-Chestnut Island/xfadedmemoriezx

-NiccoloYo

-Certified Krillin Stan

-Neterukuroino

-Everyone's Tea Room

-FuturisticBouquetdeer-451f4dcf

-DeadlyBeautyZ

-Koine Kid

I know Tumblr isn't a perfect social media platform with all its faults, but these people and many, many more made Tumblr an awesome playground to be in.

You all made my time here wonderful and jaw dropping. You guys make Dragon Ball fun. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

I won't delete my account. I love this blog too much to see it all gone in a flash, the same unfortunate fate to fellow comrade Certified Krillin Stan. I'll just leave my blog here and step back from the Tumblr website; the most I'll do is just view (rarely) what's new. There may be a chance I could fully return when DB Daima rolls around, but no guarantees. I hope how I continue in my future will lead me back here to keep supporting this section of the DB community and any other cools guys I see here; possibly return with more resources/skills to do more for this group and my account than I could do now. I do hope so.

Until then, Keep spreading that K18 Love, Let your Creativity Roam Free, Keep Supporting Each Other, and above all else, Have A Great 2024 Everybody.

#ContentExplorer #Tumblr Milestone #Goodbye #For Now #I Hope #Have A Nice Day

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