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inkofamethyst · 2 years

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September 2, 2022

The fear of making a mistake is paralyzing, actually.

One of my roommates has just accepted a full-time job for after graduation which is... wild, to say the least. It did briefly make me wonder whether graduate school really is the smart way to go but also like 1. what am I gonna do with a BS in biology and 2. what could I do with a BS in anthropology and I mean like yeah I’ve still got a choice and I could totally go and just teach myself how to code or whatever but also I don’t know if being stuck in a corporate machine is really for me. It’s either grad school, minimum wage lab tech, or minimum wage retail.

I must admit that in my attempts to simplify my weekly cooking and make it easier to choose things to make by developing a ton of possibilities I have inadvertently given myself too many choices and have made it more difficult for me to choose things to make, somehow. Ultimately the goal is to try two new recipes a month to gradually grow my repertoire but we’ll see how that goes.

Today I’m thankful for the Star Trek pre-TNG book I bought today for... wait for it... ninety-four cents. I mean it’s basically fanfiction I think (there are so so many star trek books, it’d be pretty wild if they were all cannon) but STILL what a great price!!! If I manage to finish the other Grishaverse books this semester, I’ll probably start on that one. Today I’m also thankful that I had the foresight to make some thicc shortbread cookies before I left home because these things have been fantastic little treats this week. A shame I’m going to gobble down my last one in a few minutes, but they brought me joy while they lasted.

Oh also I’ve been listening to EXU: Calamity E4 sporadically all week and I still have an hour and a half left and it’s fantastic and I am shaking down to my bones. The crew is trying SO HARD to stop this inevitable event from happening. This event that’s shaped the history of Exandria. I need to get back to reading Crooked Kingdom; Midsomer Murders (the cowboy episode basically called me the n word and told me to go back to Africa (they had Confederate flags hangin about for a reenactment lol) but dang if it wasn’t a good’un) has held me in a chokehold during mealtimes (and during post-meal resttimes which is when the temptation to nap bubbles its way up) but I may have to force myself to call it quits. The OG Barnaby leaves after this season I think anyway (and we still haven’t had a black speaking role (I’ve only seen two black extras, both dancers I think) (there’s been some East Asian rep but still, broken English stereotyping (more gay murderers than black ones, more trans representation than black representation oh my god (nothing against trans rep (though to be frank it was in the nineties and not favorable in the slightest) I just think it’s funny (or... perhaps culturally telling?) that there have been no black characters (and idk maybe that’s just a product of the setting: small, rural villages comprised mostly of the older well-to-do upper middle class))))).

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hunterwritesstuff · 29 days

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So, like, also have OCs as well if you want! Any ocs like with ur au (from the ask blog.)

Sure! Only gonna be doing my ocs because those are the ones I know best, sorry :( Also, just doing my ocs in general, not all of these are confirmed for the Askblog in future.

Charcoal Cookie - German(because of an in-joke costume I made for him-)

Papyrus Cookie - British

Rainbow Sherbet Cookie - Whatever accent most Disney princes had in the older movies like sleeping beauty 'n' shit

Shortbread Cookie - SLIGHT southern,,,

Grape Overture Cookie - British

Strawberry Trifle Cookie - British

Choco Cherry Cookie - Eldritch monster

Lemon Zest Cookie - British

Creme Brulle(OC NOT CANON I MADE HIM BEFORE CANON CAME OUT) - Southern

Starfruit Ice Cream Cookie - French

Caramel Cage Cookie - French

Snickerdoodle Cookie - Transatlantic

Goatmilk Cookie - New York

Kitchen Sink Cookie - New York

Nightmare Cookie - German

Dreamsicle Cookie - Light British, like, barely detectable

Coconut Cookie - New York with a small touch of french

Chocolate Chip Cookie - Transatlantic

S'mores Cookie - VERY LIGHT British

Saltwater Taffy - Whatever the typical sailor accent is. he sounds like that.

Choco lavender teacake cookie - Light British

Mirror Cookie - Scottish

Choco Cream Centaur Cookie - Irish

Veridian Spearmint Cookie - Brooklyn

Vanilla Cupcake Cookie - British.

Borealis Sherbet Dragon Cookie - VERY SOFT Russian

Sleepytime Dragon Cookie - Soft Russian

Death Warden Cookie - Light German

Apple Crisp Cookie - Brooklyn

Shooting Star Cookie - He just sounds like a deeper Alex Brightman idk what to say

Sugar Cookie - Soft New York

Juniper Cookie - French

Starburst Cookie - Soft British

Static Sculk Cookie - New York

Shade Cookie - Soft southern

Glitched Marshmallow Cookie - HEAVY FUCKING BRITISH ACCENT.

Blue Raspberry Knight Cookie - Southern

Blackberry Knight Cookie - Eldritch Monster

Enjoy :D

#hunter screams

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mellaithwen · 2 years

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how my day started vs how it ended :) :) :)

#anyway - if you can you should buy yourself some flowers - and a penguin shaped shortbread biscuit and go to the sea....#I mean I had zero breakdowns today so if I can channel this feeling of idk resilience? or calm or whatever into tomorrow when I have work #(and should probably do some postgrad work...)#that would be swell #there were lots of puppers at the beach - and I went into the sea as far as my knees even though it was 11'c haha #and you know what? i felt ZERO GUILT for skipping my lecture <3 #mellaithwen takes a photo #this is what self care looks like i'm telling you #at least mine anyway #and i forget how much i need it - or i just get so distracted by the buzzing and the work and not taking friggin lunch breaks #and then i took a whole day and it was like oh shit - this is what breathing is like okay

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littlefoxwithbighat · 2 years

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I'm up to date with penumbra and Ive finished stellar firma. What's left? The void? I have 2 mbmbam episodes left in my repitoire but soon those too will be consumed. How do I fill the space in the air? I'm fading. I can see the lights of the other side. Of a world without listening to podcasts all the time and having to be bored and engage with people. Socially. The horror. The terror. Take me back. There must be something more here. Kismet.

#So if anyone has any recs Id love to hear them #And like stuff you've actually listened to and enjoyed not stuff you've heard about preferably but I mean whatever #Also I thought I was going to die 20 minutes ago because I had to walk through a pitch black wood without a torch #Um so there's that #I had to get groceries #I got shortbread as well because screw you I want shortbread #And I have found a good shortbread that tastes like peanut butter and smiles #I have a torch in case I need one but I had my phone and I was like oh ill just use that #A twist! The battery was too low #Plot twist again! I had anticipated this and bought my charger #Twist the third!#The frickin lead didn't work so I stood outside the grocery store fidgeting with a lead for 10 minutes while it got darker outside before #Giving up #And that also meant I couldn't listen to above mentioned mbmbam ep on thr way home #Anyway moral of the story #Always have a torch buy nice shortbread be glad your alive send me podcast recs #Why did I write this all out idk

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royalsunshinehotel · 3 years

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Hi! I dont know if you take requests or not but I saw your sheriff hassan imagine and omg it was everything!

I had an idea like the sheriff having feelings for reader but he may feel conflicted because he still loves his wife or something, so he avoids reader. Then maybe Bev or something happens and Hassan tries to comfort the reader, feelings exposed, eventual smut? Idk, feel free to add or just ignore if you don't like something

Again, sorry if you don't take requests and I just overstepped. Have a nice day/evening

7:45 AM (18+. Sheriff Hassan x Reader)

A/N: So I've got a lot of thoughts about a previous ask I got, regarding some racial microaggressions used against Sheriff Hassan el-Shabazz. I don’t know if this counts as a warning but the debate about his and Ali’s names is used in this fic.

Hassan always knew that he wanted to be in law enforcement. Yes, even despite all of the ‘bad apples’ and horrible choices made by smaller men than him, at its core, the police force was supposed to help people, and that’s what he wanted.

One thing he learned early on was how to de-escalate. If he was breaking up a fight between two men, he, at 6’4, could puff himself up and put himself between the two. The men would back off near-immediately, and he could go from there.

Women, as he knew now, were a different story. Hassan reminisced about getting a call to a diner parallel to one of the public schools. Two girls were tearing each other apart, so Hassan tried to get between and break it up.

They were hurling horrible names at each other, and Hassan, three years on the force at that point, was still under the impression that things make sense most of the time.

“You stole him from me!” Hassan flinched as Rebekah, now a Biochemist, married to a woman, bit down on his hand, hard. He didn’t let go, not until he was sure they’d both be alright.

“I fucking didn’t he’s a creep!” He and his partner shared a heavy look as a pasty sixteen year old boy named Trevor looked a little too pleased in the corner, relaxing in the booth.

The broad man stiffened as he heard the teen boy laugh.

Hassan, barely twenty three, blurted out “you’re fighting over that?”

And both teenage girls burst out laughing. Not professional, or traditional, but it worked, even if his hand was a bit worse for wear.

The tension he felt in the air that day had nothing on the impact of Beverly Keane. He’s taking a breath outside the grocery store, trying to fight the urge to order cigarettes from the mainland, when he hears your voice carry on the wind.

You, lovely, beautiful you, agitated.

Hassan had been trying to keep his distance, but it hadn’t been working in such a small town. When he and Ali first got settled on the Crock Pot, you were the first to bring a casserole over, and he knew you were the type of person who could make him feel like things were going to be alright. He had to keep his distance, because the impending sense of doom he’d felt since his wife’s passing kept him safe.

Hassan runs a hand over his beard. He's not proud of the way your tone gives him pause. Whatever it was, you could handle it. You were perfectly capable of handling whatever it was.

Until Joe comes jogging up. Joe. Jogging. Not a good sign.

“Sheriff, you should come quick.” Wheezes the town pariah, and Hassan straightens up, following the stout man’s directions to your little blue house, about a block away.

A little piece of Hassan dies when he sees Bev on your porch, prim as ever, clearly getting off on your discomfort.

“It’s el-Shabazz, two Zs!”

“I thought it was Sharif?” Bev

“That’s literally an actor you asshole!” Hustling over to you, Hassan takes two steps at a time to reach you and Beverly, bringing her signature shortbread which wouldn’t be half bad if it wasn’t potentially poisonous.

“Oh, Sheriff, here to detain your valiant knight,” oozes Bev, stiff as ever.

“There a problem here?” Asks the Sheriff, stepping between Bev and your front door.

“No, we're great!” You seeth sarcastically.

“YN’s always causing trouble, which is why I came by to invite her back to Mass.” Beverly was terrifying. In your few interactions with the Sheriff, your disdain for her was clear, but he’d never seen her get this reaction from you before. It’s a little alarming.

“I’d rather be home, I work all week.” You’re a fucking teacher. Hassan couldn’t think of a worse fate. If he was charged with teaching the young minds of tomorrow anything, he would imagine his hands would be a lot more torn up than they were at that moment.

“One should never be too tired to praise the lord.” Hassan resists the urge to roll his eyes, thinking about how Allah would want you to rest and take care of yourself.

“Sheriff, here to detain your valiant defender?” Asks Bev, eyes betraying her cool tone.

“Hassan, get this bitch off my porch.” Hassan blinks, never having heard such venom coming out of your tone.

“No, we’re just going to take a walk, cool off, right YN?” The Sheriff reaches a hand around your upper arm, ignoring that you sent sparks into his hand.

“This is my house!” You snap, pulling out of his grip.

“And you need air.”

“There’s air inside.” You take a handful of his muscular arm and try to pull him indoors instead. He lets you, just because your hands feel good on him.

“Okay, Miss Keane, I’ve got this handled.” Hassan tries to brush the pest away, as this irritant has you upset. He doesn’t need you to be upset, not if he can fix it.

“Good Sheriff, please bring this wayward lamb back to her flock!” Beverly Keane didn’t get to finish, voice muffled by the stained glass of your front door.

The next thing Hassan takes in fully about his surroundings, is the soft yellow wallpaper of your kitchen.

The two of you hover there for a moment, before he asks, “Are you okay?”

“No.” You reply softly, as Hassan lets himself indulge in something good, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you to his chest.

Your face is wet, and your warm hands take fistfuls of his soft blue shirt. Hassan lets you muffle your face in his chest, resting his hand on your hair and the other on the small of your back. He hums a song you don’t know and your house suddenly feels less empty than you kept it.

Hassan ignores how you whine when he gently pulls your face away from him.

“What’s happened, hm?” He asks softly, trying to ignore how the object of his yearning was so close and so soft.

You shrug past the obvious answer, like you do.

“I’m tired.” A piece of your hair is sticking up and he wants to reach across and smooth it back, but he doesn’t.

“That can’t be all of it.”

“Every week when you and Ali go to the mainland, I want to go with you.” He wants to say he’s thought about a great escape, Ali, Hassan, and you.

“Why don’t you? We could take the trip.” You know why she doesn’t come, you’ve never invited her, dumbass. He scolds himself.

“I don’t want to come back. I don’t think you do either.” Hassan’s breathing hitches at this. It was quickly becoming clear that Crockett wasn’t the best choice as a place to hide.

Hassan couldn’t explain, but he knows his words are safe with you, that you feel the same.

“No. I don’t.” He replies, being honest for the first time in who knows how long.

“I’m gonna take the ferry with you guys this Friday.”

“I would love that.” breathes Hassan, feeling the tightness in his chest start to release.

“Omar Sharif, he was good in “13th Warrior.” And a whole bunch of other stuff, you think, clearly more than a weapon to use against the one man in town it could hurt.

“But you’re not from Egypt.” Your voice is as cool as the weather outside.

“No. Harlem.” You smirk at his tone.

A dismal cloud moves from the sun, and for a moment, light floods your kitchen. If that wasn’t a sign, he had no understanding of anything ever.

“There’s a bakery near where Ali and I used to live. When you come with us this Friday, we should go.” spills Hassan, words bordering on frantic, but not so much so that he would scare you.

“Like a…” You try, moving his hands a little lower on your waist.

“Like a date. I’d like to ask you out on a date.” This was almost as clumsy as when he’d asked his wife out, but that worked out well.

“What about Ali?” You chew on your lip, letting Hassan’s thumb tug it out from beneath your teeth. You resist the urge to bite it, but you could only do that for so long.

“He can catch up with family for a few hours,” says Hassan.

“While we’re on our date.” Your voice saying those words sparked a heat Hassan had almost forgotten about.

“Yes. Exactly.” You smile up at him.

“Now, how are you feeling?” Hassan questions, running his hands up your sides, making your body start to humm.

“I’m mad. I don’t like the way she speaks about you .” The sheriff’s eyes soften, as his hands wander down, he

“I don’t like that much either.” He cocks his head and you match the gesture, "How can I make you feel better?”

You shrug, enjoying the change in his tone. His voice feels almost patronizing, but in a way that makes your skin buzz.

“Oh you don’t know? No ideas?” You gasp lightly as Hassan puts you up on the counter, hands gripping your thighs just tight enough. He gives you a peck, as if he was trying to taste you

“How about I ask you to trust me, can you do that?” His voice is even. And you should know better.

You nod, “Yes.” And you do, even as he takes your forearm and puts you over his shoulder. You could take a crack at his age if you weren’t already worked up at being handled so easily.

“Where’s your room?” questioned Hassan calmly, as you squirm in his grip, you’re choosing to ignore how wet this ride was getting you, and he’s going to ignore that your perfect ass was right next to his face.

“Two doors down! This isn’t fair!” With little warning, Hassan lowers your feet to your cold wood floor, and lets you work at the buttons on his uniform.

He’d make a joke about how you seemed worked at his clothes like you were shelling a walnut, but he actually wanted to fuck you today, and tomorrow, the day after that too.

When you get a glimpse of his chest, he takes the power, and backs you into the mattress. The anticipation of the moment had a bit more weight behind it than you realized. This was months in the making for both of you. Hassan was trying to think of every boring thing he could to keep calm, as you pulled your fuzzy pink robe open, revealing yourself.

An absolute gift.

“You were practically naked in front of Bev Keane and the Lord? For shame!” Your eyes pop open as you glare at Hassan, determined to make your life hell with his beard.

“Shut up!” You laugh, taking a grip on his hair and pulling his face up to yours in a heated embrace. Since you’d known the sheriff, he’d come across as one to calculate every move he made. People don’t come to the crock pot without a plan, or purpose, and you were no different. You needed to get as far away from this place as you possibly could, but then there was the Sheriff. The crack in your helmet, the chink in your armor. He’s trying to comfort you, and you just want to do the same for him. It’s a lot more simple than either of you want to make it.

“You want me?’ He rasps, angling himself over you. He’s warm, and he’s strong and you want him, of course you did.

“Mhm, yes.” Your eyes half closed as he nuzzled into your neck, beard scratching in the best way.

You feel a blunt pressure poking at your wetness, and your eyes go round as he slowly opens you up. He’s gentle, measured, but his magnitude in you left evidence as scratches on his back.

“You can do it,” he praises, getting half of his length inside of you, “that’s it.” You pout as Hassan lowers his body to be closer to yours. As he pushes himself all the way inside of you, he takes one of your shaky hands and rests it on your lower stomach.

“Can you feel me?” He asks, knowing full well you can. A pathetic whimper escapes your lips that makes the Sheriff’s whole body twitch.

A beat passes, and you scrabble on his shoulders as he begins to roll his hips down into you.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” You’re his good girl!! He said you were his good girl! The excitement brough by the praise made you want to smile, but he rolls his hips again and steals your breath, your train of thought.

Your mind is blank as you let him toy with your clit, bite at your skin, spoil you absolutely fucking rotten just because he could.

When you finish, it’s loud, and lovely. Hassan’s forehead is pressed against your own and he’s right behind you.

You wince as the fog he’d hung over the two of you began to clear. It’s silent, but somehow comforting.

You’re drunk on his dick, so when he tells you, “amazing job sweetheart,” you simply say “thanks daddy.”

“Fuck.” Hassan growls to himself, tightening a grip on you, as if you’d leave your own bed. If you said that again he’d have to fuck you open again, and he had chores he had to do today. He had to feed his child, and be somewhat productive.

“What?” You were in a strange headspace, unaware of what you’d just said to him.

“I have to work.” With a low groan, the sheriff leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, taking in how your soft eyes bat at the contact.

“I’ll see you Friday? At 7:45?” asks Hassan, sighing as you stick out your lower lip into a pout. There’s a moment where he takes you in, your sweet face, your soft skin, as well as the pale blue comforter wrapped around the two of you.

You're so clearly home, it makes something inside of him start to hurt.

“Definitely.” You giggle, as Hassan grips you tight and brings his mouth back to yours. He’ll get up. Eventually.

#sheriff hassan el shabazz #sheriff hassan #hassan el shabazz #midnight mass #rahul kohli imagine #rahul kohli #midnight mass netflix

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monsterfloofs · 3 years

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idk if requests are open but i got this idea and wanted to send it in before i forgot-

Rich dragon/dragonborn who is an avid collector of artist!reader's paintings. They're always at any exhibitions they can go to, they get first dibs on commission slots- just this dragon being the reader's best patron. This isn't that weird since dragons are known to latch onto a certain thing for their hordes, but what the reader doesn't know is that the dragon also wants them, to be the "centerpiece" of the their horde. (not yandere, just pining-)

Dragon could be any gender, gn for the reader :D thx again, i love your drabbles and art ;3; <3

Yup! Still doing requests! It has felt like a fun little heartfelt collaboration between me and the requesters and I have been really enjoying telling stories together! I just hope I have been doing a good job and people are happy with what I have written for them! Since people are still asking if I am doing requests, I think that’s a good sign! ^v^ )9 This is such an adorable idea and I am really touched that you shared it with me! I shall try to do it justice. ;u; )

skldflksklf and thank you again for the compliment I feel so spoiled everyone is so kind ahhhhhh

Female Dragonborn (Amaltheia) x Gender Neutral Reader (Sfw)

You had prepared iced tea and shortbread for your first lone gallery showcase. It wasn’t a large collection, but you stood in the center all the same, beaming with pride. Standing amongst the paintings in the gallery, you were more radiant than any of the pieces you have created.

It was something that clutched at her heart, wanting more than anything to have yours. To see you painting in the garden of her estate, gently rendering the delicate rose petals as you study them with keen interest. The cool winter months spent inside beside the hearth, reciting poetry and snuggling close.

It was these romantic revelries that caused her to act as she did. Dressing up as a member of staff of her own house, but doing this gave her more freedom to be able to interact and flirt than if she came as herself. You beam when you see her, “Hello Amaltheia, is the Master of your house intending to buy up my whole gallery this time around?” She grins back at you wolfishly, her sharp pearly whites flashing for just a moment before she bows her head. “I can’t say for sure,” she growls, “But if she did that now, you wouldn’t have much of an exhibit to showcase for the rest of the weekend. I shall try to fend her off the best I can until it’s over.” You laugh and Amaltheia’s tail swishes back and forth. Watching how your eyebrows raise and your eyes crinkle, your face wholehearted partaking in joy and mirth. That was one of the things she loved about you so dearly, you were an emotional and lovely soul that she couldn’t help but feel attracted to.

“I have to thank you and your Master again,” You say as you start pouring Amaltheia a cup of tea, “Without your support I don’t think I would have even been able to make it as far as I have in my career.” Amaltheia gives a snort but takes the cup gently from your hand, “I am sure you would have flourished all the same. Even without her help.”

“I’ve come to think of you as a friend,” You murmur, your voice suddenly turning soft as Amaltheia perks up to catch the words, “You’re always so kind to me, I wish there was a way I could repay your kindness.” Amaltheia swallows hard, her golden eyes shifting. There was a pang of guilt that pulsed against her heart, but she decided to ignore it for just a little while longer. “Then, as friends, would you allow me to treat you to dinner after the show? I am sure after today you will be tired.”

You laugh, though your voice holds nervousness in it. “I said I wanted to repay your kindness, not for you to feel as though you owe me some--”

“I don’t!” Amaltheia balks, cutting you off quickly. “I have also. . .” An awkward grumble rolls in the back of her throat as she tries to formulate words. “I have also. . . grown very fond of you. Think of it as. . .” her shoulders shift and she sighs, “An apology,”

“An apology?” You echo, your expression turning inquisitive, “Whatever do you have to apologize for?”

Amaltheia gives a soft crooked smile, “It is a little complicated, but I shall try to give you an explanation over dinner. . . that is, only if you feel comfortable in accompanying me.”

You think about it for a moment before you smile, “I hope you don’t mind a tired artist keeping you company then. Dinner sounds delightful, I actually wasn’t sure what I was going to eat when I got home,”

Her tail thumps against the floor, nervous, but a very much elated gesture.

#monster x reader #monster x human #dragonborn x reader #dragonborn x human #fluff #sfw

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

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just curious, what’s your favorite and least favorite character design? my least fav for sure has got to be female byleth for reasons i don’t want to get in to yep ok have a good day 😁

IOops this accidentally became a rant, sorry

Okay so, to preface this all, I’m not a character designer and I’m actually pretty bad at it, but my rule of thumb with really unappealing or fan-service outfits is whether or not it makes sense character-wise and how much it tells the player about the character. For example, I think we can all agree that there’s quite a bit of fan-service elements in Hilda’s design. Boob window. However, it’s not unrealistic to imagine Hilda picking out those clothes for herself. Her costume tells you almost everything you need to know about her character on a visual level. She’s confident, pretty, attention-grabbing, and high maintenance while the gloves and laced girdle give a nod to her Viking-maiden roots.

Taking it to female Byleth, I don’t think that her outfit works on either front. Her design is definitely my least favorite and it’s not helped by the fact that you have to look at her at all times. Whatever. The huge, solid mass of boobs, the buttoned bib, the big eyes, the feather hair, the bellybutton, the ripped tights, the booty shorts. She’s a merc out in life and death situations with an accessible, pale, tacky 2000′s “stab me” stomach cut out and a wedgie. Which could be excusable if, like Hilda, there was reason to believe that that her costume was character choice. But she doesn’t really have much character, and what there is gives the impression of a very stoic, dry, blunt person. I have no idea why they’d have gone that route when the sexual appeal of more “utilitarian” costuming (aka, form fitting armor that at least pretends to be functional) for characters like her is scientifically proven AND would say more about the singular personality trait she possesses. Okay, well, I know why they didn’t do that and I think it’s lame. This dysfunction of “character designer wanted a sexy girl but it’s kinda random and just shoved in the game without any thought” actually reminds me a lot of Xenoblade 2′s leading ladies, Hikari and Pyra. Although considering that their bad designs led to a lot of people hating the game for superficial reasons while accepting female Byleth’s design, I guess I’m just bitter. Jumping to a different comparison, then, look at 2B from Nier Automata. Her design is fine as hell which is kinda hypocritical of me considering that it's explicitly fan-service, but I think it also shows the most damning thing for female Byleth. Her whole look, despite having a dozen different element thrown in, is boring. Maybe it’s the colors (dressing her in all black and white would have been really interesting considering the colors of the three lords are so heavily emphasized as a part of their characters) or maybe it’s just the way the desperate elements come together. But, like I said, I'm not even slightly knowledgeable about character design and I know that despite Three Houses being mostly separate, they had to appeal to a larger aesthetic brand to which I have little experience with. And, ultimately, a lot of people find her cute or sexy which...To each their own, I suppose. I don’t pretend that fan-service doesn’t work on me (2B... Cloud’s arms in the remake... Seph's shirtless Smash skin...) but when it’s this obviously inserted in by the character designers rather than feeling organic in any way AND looks bad I'm just not super interested.

The other worst designs for me would be all four of the Ashen Wolves post timeskip. I don't think it's controversial to say that they didn't try with the clothes, even if I love their designs from the neck up (Yes, even Balthus. He looks like the type of guy that would let you sit on his shoulders at a rock concert so you could see the stage). While there are other designs I think are unappealing, those are for purely aesthetic reasons and so I can't maintain the opinion that they're actively bad or that I even truly dislike them.

As for favorite looks... I actually have a few so sorry you're getting all of them because despite the shit I'm talking, I actually really really love the character designs in Three Houses.

Ferdinand's post timeskip is one of my favorite designs, if not my favorite. The hair, the coat, the armor, the spurs, the colors. You know exactly who Ferdinand von Aegir is just by looking at him. He’s wealthy, handsome, confident in his appearance, a hero, a princely type character, his battle form is mounted combat which is traditionally aesthetically reserved for nobility and leaders... I love it. The only reason I cannot say he IS my favorite is because of the three Lords. But before them, my honorable mentions include post timeskip Hilda, Dorothea, Lorenz, Felix, and Hubert. Granted, I could make a case for why I like almost all of the student’s post timeskip looks.

For the Lords, I obviously have to start with colors because, weirdly enough, Persona didn’t invent primary colors but are actually used as shorthand. Blue is the color of honor, loyalty, sincerity, sadness, and depression. Something I’ve always found very interesting is that blue is very rarely found in nature. To me, that’s always made it seem more lonely which, at least in this case, is thematically relevant. People call Dimitri boring pre timeskip and while I won’t defend his hairstyle (okay, actually, I probably would because he tucks it behind his ears and idk why but that’s one of the cutest things ever) I really like how unassuming he is. Bland. He’s supposed to be the plain shortbread cookie to caramel deLite Claude and strawberry meringue Edelgard. It is not in his character to draw attention to himself or stand out. To me, he kinda looks like an old Barbie prince, like he should have been named Dominic. Also I love the blue eyes/blonde hair thing and his more angular features. It really helps to sell him as the fakeout chivalrous prince type. Post timeskip, Dimitri's black armor is amazing. I love the fact that it’s a lot more intricate up-close with the different little shell-like pieces and the fact that his boots are furry. I love the big cape and the black and white fur around his shoulders. It’s really cool how they used his costume to change the shape of his in-game model to match the bodily proportions of the character art. It’s easier to see when you change his costume into the DLC ones, but the fur and cape build up his shoulders and chest look more broad while keeping that tiny little waist. The choice to give Dimitri an eyepatch is probably my favorite thing about this design. It’s genuinely inspired. Such a simple detail yet it tells the player everything they need to know about adult Dimitri when they see him post timeskip, in one frame the player can begin to understand the extent of his loss over the past five years. The subtle shadow under his eye in the first few Azure Moon chapters and the messy long-ish hair really help to sell the feral prince aesthetic as well, as it’s from those small cues the player gets that he’s exhausted (in more ways than one) and doesn’t maintain himself. None of these things are intentional choices by Dimtiri, they’re the result of what his character has been through.

Yellow is an intense, energetic color. Mostly, people think of it as being warm and inviting, the color of the sun and positivity. That intensity can be overwhelming, though, too visually demanding when compared to its primary counterparts. Don’t stare at the sun too long. Buuuut, it’s okay to stare at Claude. Claude not wanting to wear tight pants in either of his costumes is not only a mood, it is iconic. Pre timeskip, the softer lines of his silhouette makes him look kinda slouchy, kinda lazy. Like he’s not too concerned with appearances. But those adorably messy curls, the little braid, the clearly tended eyebrows, and earring make it clear that he DOES care about appearances and is very aware of his allure. And that’s before he even starts winking. It is honestly so in character that as many people picked him first on the basis of being thirsty, that feels like an intentionally Claude thing even if it was inserted by the designers. The contrast of his complexion with his seagreen eyes is gorgeous and instantly adds a kind of mystery and intrigue to him considering the setting... but it’s sf funny that nobody looked at bronze god Claude among a sea of white faces and thought something was up. Post timeskip, they used the same trick like they did with Dimitri to change Claude’s in-game model to match his canon appearance. The way they designed his uniform makes him not look as twink-ish, like he’s actually muscular and imposing and has the strength he’d need to shoot a war bow with a 120lbs draw weight. Also like Dimitri, you can instantly tell what Claude’s been up to. Like, he was very pretty pre timeskip but when he shows up in the Goddess Tower after those five years in all that gold, he demands your attention. Like a gentleman general with the excessive aesthetic ideals of the Alliance and details to imply his heritage. The quilted pants are amazing from both an aesthetic and practical standpoint. He’s a mounted unit riding a creature with scales, of course he’d want something on his legs for protection. And the chinstrap. I love that so much, it definitely makes him look more adult. He’s got such a cute soft baby face, it’s fun imagining him experimenting with different styles during the five years to get the most desired physical reaction to him as a leader.

Frenchfries, meet forehead. No, actually, Edelgard’s design is really fantastic. Claude and Dimitri both have realistically colored eyes and hair and then there’s Edelgard. Dimitri shrugs off attention physically and Claude shirks it with a wink but Edelgard commands the players attention from the very start. Although I’m sure there’s a lot of things to associate with white hair and purple eyes, my first thought was Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Otherworldly beautiful by with an edge. Red, of course, is The power color. Strong emotions, love and hate. Red is also associated strongly with blood, which is very important to Edelgard’s plot. Granted, I think the red and black association is even more powerful than JUST red and red is the cheapest play to make in regards to displaying villainy (I mean, there are some pretty universally recognized associations with red and black and it led to people making some unfair comparisons between Edelgard and a famous dictator) but I think it was effective and well used and I genuinely enjoy its use in her case. Anyway, if I had a major complaint about her design it would be the weird ashy color of her hair whereas Lysithea’s hair is pure white. Which doesn’t even matter with the AMAZING hair horns. Ram horns can actually symbolize quite a few things, but their association with power and strength is pretty universal I think. They’re also used in demonic imagery. I love that THIS was her alternative to a crown. Edelgard views herself as a force of war and power before she thinks of herself as royalty. She also mentions that she isn’t super vain, but she loves to do her hair, so the hair being the most elaborate part of her look is entirely in-character. Edelgard’s ensemble is, like Claude, very militaristic. I love that they kept her in a dress that embraces femininity without showing skin as that wouldn’t really suit her Also, again, Edelgard demands your attention. She’s dressed all in bright bright red waving around a giant axe. She is a symbol as much as she is a combatant, someone to follow. I didn’t really mention their secondary lord costumes, but a girl in sexy armor is literally everything and I love that they had the balls to put their main sexy waifu girl in full body armor.

Okay I’m sorry I realize this was excessive and probably didn’t need explaining and I’m not sure I even articulated my thoughts properly but anyway I love their designs so here is the positivity I’ll put into the world.

#fe3h #ferdinand von aegir #claude von riegan #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #haha i htae byleths design this was all just to justify my abject disgust for the way she looks #nobody sent me anything about dimitri's dick so this is what i've been reduced to

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nimblermortal · 2 years

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@homoqueerjewhobbit, for your collection:

Chocolate Shortbread Cookies

.5 c sugar .75 c butter (1.5 sticks) 1 t almond extract 1.5 c flour .25 (HA!) c cocoa powder 1 egg yolk 375 F, 10-12 minutes

Cream butter and sugar and almond extract. Add dry stuff - 1/3 - 1/2 c cocoa powder for proper chocolateyness. Add egg last and mix until it becomes a dough. Roll out and cut with cookie cutters.

You can roll these out to about cookie thickness and they’re bready, which is my favorite, or you can roll them out to about half that and bake them until they snap like a British biscuit. Tea recently mixed in garam masala for flavor, which was fine if you’re into that. You can also add sprinkles etc for fun.

Rosemary Shortbread

2 c flour 1.5 T rosemary 1 c butter (2 sticks) 1/2 c brown sugar salt Bake at 300 for 45-55 minutes

Cream butter and sugar, add other ingredients, press into a pan to, idk, about 1/2 inch thick? Shortbread thickness. You might want to play around with the butter ratio a little, Mum’s been making these a lot lately but she’s been getting them very greasy which is not my preference; but I haven’t done this recipe in a while.

In conclusion: Whatever you choose to bake, I hope you have some form of electric mixer.

#replies #food #also these were written for my reference so they are just a list of ingredients a time and a temperature #if you need more I can always bake up a batch and tell you what I've left out #I have been needing to make Christmas cookies and in particular chocolate shortbread ones are on the list for tonight

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

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Tieguanyin (Barbatos x Reader)

Idk. I just like the idea of soft tea time with butler demon. Enjoy the soft I guess? Unedited because we die like heroes here.

Obey Me! Masterlist: here Pairing: Barbatos x Reader (GNR) Genre: Non-genre/Character study Wordcount: 1,000 ish Tags: Fluff, hopeless romanticism Summary: Teatime with Barbatos

Tea with two sugar cubes and the smallest splash of milk. Just enough to make the bitter brew palatable to you. The swirls of white meld into the dark liquid swimming and dancing in time with the silver spoon pinched between your forefinger and thumb as you mixed your drink to your liking. Not a word between you ever needed to be exchanged during this ritual. It was a sacred moment of peace from the world for the two of you.

Tea completely black, poured after a second steeping. Steam rising from the fine porcelain of a cup older than time. The gold leaf has peeled at some point but it only adds to the charm of the piece. He’s told you many times he would get to repairing it, but something tells you he finds the imperfection endearing. He waits only a minute and thirty four seconds before taking the first sip of scalding hot tea.

Barbatos’ long lashes brush his cheeks as he admires the scent and the flavor of tea. You never understood the appeal of tea until he told you to close your eyes. Only then could you see what he tasted.

Assam felt like fields of sunshine and a gentle spring breeze. A forest yonder and mountains on the horizon as far as your eye could see. A world built on scent and comfort all in a single ancient porcelain cup. He only ever chose that for you when the sky was dark and stress loomed over your head. “It’ll give you some energy without making you jittery..” He said, carefully dropping the sugar into your cup before adding the milk. He winks and adds just a drop of honey on top of it all. “For good luck.”

Rooibos was served when the weather was bright and after you spent most of the afternoon in the shade of some tree, catching up on reading. He served it with fresh scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam made last summer. “It’s refreshing even if it’s hot.” he explains, pouring himself a cup and you’re transported into a nest made of the softest sheets. They keep your spirit as warm as the sun you basked in hours ago. Even as the hours passed and it became late, you brought back with you the scent of butter and dried flowers.

He only ever gave you darjeeling when you felt down. The hints of citrus and spice always uplifted you just enough to bring you to a bustling market during the harvest season. You could imagine, if only for a moment, the two of you being human enough to wander the crowded alleyways and the cramped stalls. You could pretend that you weren’t oddly alone despite being surrounded by friends.

You didn’t ask for comfort during those long days. He would patiently wait while you cried whatever feelings you had out until there were nothing but hiccups and stilted sobs. It wasn’t until you’d reach out with trembling fingers that he would sit by your side and let you release the last of your homesickness onto his shoulder.

It was a burden he bore without words. It was a weight he carried silently with him and a wound he sought to help bandage with shortbread and another cup of darjeeling. This time, with a touch of honey to help sweeten the bitterness that no doubt welled up from insurmountable loneliness. The bag of candied orange peels he let you bring back with you would tide you over until the next time the weight was too much for you to bear.

Barbatos couldn’t ask to be a solution; but he could at least be a sanctuary of safety from the chaos.

He saved the tea from Sun Moon Lake as celebration for all the things you’ve accomplished. He only allowed himself to serve it during the full moon and with rice cakes. It was the only tea he insisted that you drink plain. You were allowed to argue with demons on a daily basis, but his prescriptions on tea were scripture.

You understood why he was so adamant as it was the only way to taste the faint traces of cooling mint at the back of your tongue while you drank it. Through all the chaos that surrounded you, he always found the best medicine through tea. That night, you counted the stars and drew your own constellations with your head on his shoulder. You told him stories of your home and the traditions that came with the bright harvest moon.

Chang’e and the bunny on the moon were your best friends and you recounted the timeless words of Li Bai, admiring the beauty of lunar light. While you lamented about the tragedy of poets, he wondered if you realized that you were more beautiful than any celestial goddess you named.

When you mulled over the last cup of the tea that night, he secretly wrote your name between Perseus and Andromeda, wishing he could immortalize his love for you as the stars had.

He’s burnt the tips of his fingers from drying young tea leaves over a flame. The wounds ached no matter how much salve he put on them. Barbatos floated chrysanthemum petals across the top of your usual milky mixture, letting a little bit of sunlight seep into the murky drink. Two cubes of sugar with a splash of milk and a tonic to fight off weariness was complete.

Seeing you smile as you sipped the drink that came from his hard work was worth all the pain and he forgot about the blisters hidden behind his gloves. It was hard to think of anything but what heaven looked like when you were happy. “What’s it taste like to you?”

“Safety.” You replied, taking a crumbling thumbprint cookie between careful fingers and nibbling on it. The crumbs dropped to your uniform, but you were too happy to care. It tasted like home, like where you belonged. You thought of all the comforting things in the world and each image came back to an ornate drawing room where two sets of cups and saucers sat on a silver tray. The only image that stood out was the ritual of brewing tea at the right temperature and the look of concentration on Barbatos’ face as he counted the seconds before he could pour your drink.

“It tastes like… spending time with you.”

From that day on, he took his tea with two cubes of sugar and a splash of milk.

#Obey Me!#Obey Me Barbatos #Barbatos x Reader #Gender Neutral reader #My writing #Wow it's not actually smut #Enjoy the fluff

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