Tumgik
#why her name like that tho
nightthinker-08 · 6 months
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I couldn't sleep so I drew some Pomnies shes surprisingly fun to draw lol Oh and some doomed yuri too I guess xD buttonblossom is cute n all but calling them doomed yuri or digital yuri is a lot funnier to me
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justcommander · 4 months
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And that's why Michael got cool shades in this AU.
That feeling when you're just a teenager and already got cataract. Amongst the other things that damn possession and truck accident caused you But John is doing his best all on his own...!
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you drink your coffee black and we are afraid of each other ; shoko ieiri
synopsis; shoko makes you a morning cup of coffee; turns out she’s not very good at that, but it’s the thought that counts.
word count; 4.2k
contents; shoko ieiri/reader, gn!reader (but written w a fem!reader in mind), fluff fluff fluff!!, just normal morning shenanigans at the ieiri household, implied stsg (my brand), shoko can be a girlfailure. as a treat, reader is absolutely whipped (and so am i)
a/n; been writing too much gojo n geto lately. neglecting my wife :((((((( let it be known that i am a shoko stan first human second. this one is for my wlws pls eat up!!!!
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you wake up to the sound of your girlfriend’s voice.
melodic and soft, low and saccharine; almost like she’s coaxing you out of hiding. a sound so lovely you wish you could drown in it, laced together with a distinctly raspy tilt, one you can only attribute to the copious amounts of cigarettes she smoked back in high school. one that gets you a little bit weak in the knees.
a leftover residue, bittersweet memories ghosting her lips. in the mornings, it’s particularly prominent. a little intoxicating. manifesting itself as a shiver down your spine, a jolt of your heartbeat, a flush on your skin for every word that she speaks. it’s enough to have you slipping from sleep’s embrace, carried back into the cradle of reality.
why you notice her voice first, and not the smell of something burning — or the sound of insistent beeping — is honestly beyond you. 
it doesn’t take long for your sleepy brain to react, however, a pang of anxiety rushing through your slumbering veins. hurriedly stirring you awake. abrupting your dreamlike, drowsy state, tangled up in silken sheets with your neck smudged by lipstick marks; an alluring red, one shoko typically favors when she’s going out for a drink. coming home just a tiny bit tipsy, affectionate and giggly.
and when your eyelids finally flutter open, your mind melting into the motion of the waking world, you shoot up in a sudden bout of panic.
because fuck, you belatedly, groggily realize — that’s the fucking fire alarm.
and shoko is spewing curses, from afar, loud enough that you can hear it even through the fog of fatigue that clouds your brain. a raspy string of words that you don’t quite catch, but they’re enough to have you scrambling out of bed, nearly bumping into the doorframe as you kick the blanket off your legs.
”what happened?” you croak out, chest heaving a little, having stumbled into the smoke-filled kitchen. disgruntled, reeling with the aftermath of your deep slumber, cold air nipping at your bare skin. the balcony door is open, and the smell of rain invades your apartment.
when you look out the window, all you see is a gray sky, blanketed by a thick coating of wool. smothered by clouds, not a single ray of sunlight slipping through the cracks. the world smells dewy and sweet, asphalt and flowers melting into a nostalgic fragrance, one that reminds you a bit of high school smoke breaks — huddling under the slide at the nearest playground, watching a pretty girl wrap her lips around a cigarette, exhaling smoke just for it to melt into the pouring rain.
one that reminds you a bit of the woman right in front of you, balancing on a chair and stretching her goosebump-ridden arms towards the ceiling, wearing nothing but a lacey bra and a pair of unbuttoned jeans. messy hair that cascades down her back, brows furrowed, eyes simmering with irritation — before flitting over to meet your own.
shoko blinks. then sighs. ”you woke up?” she mutters, and you try not to shiver when the tremor of her voice deepens, morning-fatigue seeping into the syllables. “fuck. sorry, i —”
she stumbles a little, shifting her weight from one foot to another, and you take a step forward. on instinct, as if getting ready to cushion her fall. ready to be of service, in any way you can.
”don’t worry,” she fumbles with the fire alarm, clicking her tongue. nails scraping against plastic. “it’s fine, i just need to — there we go.” 
finally, the beeping stops. and your shoulders relax, immediately, the tight little ball inside your chest untangling. with a deep inhale, the fragrance of espresso and smoke fills your nostrils, and a sense of calm washes over you. rooting your feet to the floor. 
shoko settles down, too, seating herself on the wooden chair. a huff slipping from her lips. they’re smudged, a blurry red she still hasn’t found the energy to wipe away. 
bringing a hand up to card through her hair, lithe fingers in between her messy auburn locks, she exhales. a blend between fatigue and relief.
”god. i need a cig.”
a moment passes. she raises her head, and sees the sleepy little pout playing at your lips — her eyes softening. blooming with something fond. giving you a smile, tired, small. but reassuring. 
”i’m just kidding, love,” she chuckles. “relax.”
”don’t joke about that,” you frown, rubbing the sleep from your weary eyes. stifling a tiny yawn. ”.. took me so long to get you to quit.”
(sometimes you can still see the smoke leave her lungs when she exhales.)
shoko keeps smiling, but doesn’t say anything else. the pitter patter of rain against your balcony railing fills the silence of the kitchen, still brimming with a light layer of smoke, slowly dwindling. cold air drawing it out. clad only in one of suguru’s old t-shirts, you shiver, and shoko seems to notice.
“good morning,” she coaxes, opening her arms slightly — and you move forward, a moth to a flame. without thinking. “sorry for waking you.”
she wraps her arms around your waist, attaching her jaw to the curve of your shoulder, and you melt into the embrace. leaning close, to tuck yourself into her neck. she smells like lavender shampoo. “‘s fine,” you mumble, a yawn muffled into her collarbone. “what happened? are you okay?”
when her plump lips press against the sensitive skin of your neck, right next to one of the kiss marks she left there last night, you can’t help but shiver again. she must feel it, because you can hear the smile she’s trying to bite back in her voice when she answers.
“mm,” she hums, a gravelly noise that makes your throat clog up a little. “just burned something, it’s fine. don’t worry.”
tentatively, you take a step back. just to see her. gazing down at her, into her hazel eyes, the fading crescents beneath them. not as dark as they used to be, not as heavy with lost sleep.
shoko is gorgeous. always, every single day, but you think she’s particularly breathtaking like this. when it’s early, and she’s groggy and a little disheveled, eyes weary and lipstick smudged — bra strap close to slipping off her shoulder, black lace against pale skin, moles littering her forearms and chest like star clusters. oversized jeans that expose the curve of her waist, the fat of her hips, and you don’t notice how intently you’re staring until shoko’s raspy voice reaches your burning ears.
“eyes up here, baby.”
you do as you’re told, and she stifles a chuckle. eyes rich with amusement. you try not to blush.
“sorry.” you chew at the inside of your cheek. eyes trailing to the houseplants by the windowsill. “.. you’re just so pretty.”
shoko tilts her head, an exasperated little breath rolling off her tongue. almost a coo. she’s incapable of blushing; but if she wasn’t, you’re sure she'd blush. 
“thanks.” her touch is light, fingertips trailing down the expanse of your arm. “you are, too. red is a good colour on you.”
you blink. shoko’s eyes are crinkled at the edges, soft lines of crows’ feet, and you huff when you realize she’s talking about the marks on your neck. suddenly a little self-conscious, you bring a hand up to rub at the skin — as if hoping to wipe them away. you doubt it works. shoko just breathes out an airy chuckle, getting up from her seat.
she looks tired, still. stretching her limbs out, sleepily, blinking drowsily.
and it’s odd, you think. that she got up this early, that she didn’t cling to you and make you stay with her in bed like she usually does. you don’t know anyone who loves sleeping in more than shoko does. especially after a night out.
so it’s strange. very strange.
“hey, sho.”
“hm?”
you tilt your head. “why are you up this early, anyway?”
she blinks, and then glances at the clock on the wall. ticking idly, counting down. when she looks back at you, she’s got a single eyebrow raised. “it’s not really early.”
“for you it is,” you quip, something resembling a grin tugging at your lips. and she rolls her eyes, smiling, before linking her arm with yours. bringing you to the stove.
“i was, uh —“ a pause. she does a little cough under her breath, clearing her throat. “trying to make coffee.”
silently, you look at the mess in front of you; what used to be your squeaky-clean stovetop, now stained with a muddy, rusty residue. an unassuming coffee pot sits to the side, having seemingly boiled over, smoke still drifting up into the air.
shoko cringes, a little. before a wry smile makes its way to her lips. ”it was…” she clicks her tongue. sighing softly. ”an attempt.”
”… wait.” you turn to look at her, dubiously, and she avoids your gaze. ”that’s what you burned? coffee?” still no answer. a tiny smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help it if your voice comes out sounding a little teasing. ”how is that even possible?”
”look,” shoko exhales, heavy. ”i don’t know, okay? i think it was the coffee grounds, or something. i look away for one second, and it’s just —”
a little giggle slips from your lips, and shoko shoots you a glare. mostly harmless, but she untangles her arm from your own. ”sorry, it’s just —” you apologize, failing to hide your amusement. ”why didn’t you just use the espresso machine, honey?”
she bites her lip, and you think she might be just a little embarrassed. averting her gaze, briefly flitting towards the machine in question. ”… i didn’t know how to use it,” she mutters. ”i’ve seen you do it, obviously, but i never paid attention to the steps.”
a smile graces your lips. consoling. “it’s not that complicated once you know how it works,” you nudge her arm with your elbow. ”it just looks that way.”
she hums. a click of her tongue, as she adjusts her bra strap. ”well, anyway. i tried. so.”
”right.” you try to stifle a grin, to no avail. ”so… you burned your coffee.”
”and woke you up.” she grins, herself, just a tiny bit self-deprecating. but pretty, always, hair falling over her eyes when she tilts her head. ”a mess, aren’t i?”
”not at all.”
shoko looks at you, and your eyes meet hers. unflinchingly. tired irises falling into the gentle hue of your own, trickling down to the curve of your lips. there’s an honesty to your voice that she’s never quite been able to deal with. 
(love, she thinks. a kind of love she finds somewhat hard to stomach. a sea of acceptance that she fears she’ll eventually drown in.)
before she can properly fall into a morning spiral, you stretch your neck a bit, idly, and she gets a good look at the red marks littering your skin. the way your pulse beats at the base of your throat. tender, slight, a mantra she’s grown just a little bit addicted to. 
”why, though?” you hum, and shoko blinks. snapped out of her thoughts, and back into reality. back into you, the faux pout on your lips. playful, but a little confused. ”i thought i was the coffee brewer of this relationship…” 
and it’s true. you’ve been making shoko’s morning cups of coffee for a while, now, even before you moved in together. she likes it black, sometimes with a drop of cream, sometimes with a cube of sugar. never both. you think it’s very like her, to tiptoe that line between bitter and sweet — never entirely giving in to one or the other. there’s a balance to shoko, something stable. something for you to hold on to, a bitter tinge or syrupy taste that always leaves you yearning for more.
truthfully, your coffee brewing skills aren’t anything special. but it makes shoko happy, to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, being able to hug your back. being handed a cup of fresh coffee. sipping from it in silence, muttering out a groggy good morning that makes your heart flutter.
(to you, it’s precious. that lilt of her voice, that bittersweet tinge. the dearest thing in the world.)
plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth, shoko furrows her brows. ever so slightly. nails tapping at the edge of the kitchen counter, a series of satisfying clicks against the marble. “… well.” 
she clears her throat, but doesn’t say anything else. a moment passes. you try to find the answer in the curve of her lips, the crease of her brow, in the depths of her eyes — but you don’t succeed.
something discomforting settles in the bottom of your throat. almost uncertain, maybe a bit anxious. sheepish, as your tired mind spins in circles. parting your lips. hesitant.
“do you… not like the way i make it?” there’s a dejected tilt to your voice when it spills out, one that makes you feel a little silly. so you smile, or try to, eyes trailing towards the windows; you note that the rain has grown heavier. “i can change how —“
“what?” shoko cuts you off. “no. no, of course not — your coffee’s perfect. honestly.”
again, your eyes meet. and again, shoko seems to be struggling with finding the right words. or maybe she’s struggling to voice them.
“i just… haah.” she brings a hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. you just watch, silent, hungry to hear the thoughts she’s not letting you in on.
a beat. again, the sound of the rain against steel railings, the scent of honeydew and concrete. espresso-flavored smoke, almost entirely faded, leaving only cold air to nip at your thighs. 
and again, as always, inevitably, your eyes are fixed on shoko — a moth to her flame. helpless to the cinders that ghost at your skin whenever she looks at you. a certain contemplation swims inside her eyes, simmering beneath the surface, as she chews gently at the plush of her lips. before turning to face you.
you can only blink. but shoko finally speaks, clearing her throat in a way that strikes you as rather sheepish.
“well — you’re always the one doing all the work. aren’t you?” her voice trickles out into the air, low and saccharine, a blanket pulled over your shoulders. so soft you hold your breath and strain your ears, just to make sure you hear it. “i guess i figured… i don’t know.”
shoko pauses, again, and you can almost delude yourself into thinking there’s a cherry red tint to the tips of her ears. when she parts her lips, that usually carefree voice of hers sounds almost meek. almost, but not quite. more like unsure. embarrassed?
another moment passes, entirely silent. shoko swallows her pride.
“.. satoru always brags about suguru making him those fucked up sugary drinks he likes,“ she mumbles. turning around, to rest her back against the counter, looking out at the downpour. “says it makes him feel so loved. or whatnot. so i just —“ 
she waves her hand, haphazardly. 
“you know.“
a beat. then another. you can physically feel your lips part, a kind of surprise weaving itself into the contours of your face. 
and when you finally speak, your voice comes out a little garbled, scrambling for the right words. not sure if you should feel deeply amused, or just a tiny bit horrified. “wait. you’re saying you…” a moment passes. silent, slow, and all you can do is blink owlishly. in disbelief.
“… got inspired by suguru?”
shoko groans, deep and gravelly, almost comically agonized. covering her face with her pretty hands. “don’t say it,” she pleads, “you’re making it sound as dumb as it is.”
a little giggle slips from your lips. accidental, but she still shoots you a displeased look, huffing under her breath. crossing her arms just to tap at her forearm with her nimble fingers. frowning.
“don’t laugh at me.”
“sorry,” you search for her gaze, but she keeps looking ahead. so stubborn. “i don’t mean to, ‘s just — not very like you, y’know?”
shoko exhales. nearly a huff, but not quite. and you think she must be embarrassed, gnawing at her lip like that, fingers eagerly searching for something to fidget with. it makes you soften, impeccably, the blood inside your veins warming up beneath your skin. stirring you, coaxing you into soothing her. your very own heartbeat seems to be a little enamored with shoko ieiri.
”i appreciate the thought,” you smile. a tender tone, sincere. lingering with amusement. “really. but let’s not base our entire relationship around satoru and suguru of all people, alright?”
and again, she sighs. brittle, a little fatigued. brows scrunching together. ”look, i —”
a pause. she gnaws at her plump bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering like a battered heartbeat. her voice comes out sounding soft, all duvet pillows and fresh lavender, a lilt that anchors you to earth. sweet words. so honest it makes your breath hitch.
”i want to take care of you.”
and this time, you’re the flustered one. burning under her gaze, feeling a heat blossom on your skin. feeling the fervent pitter patter of your heartbeat, as her pretty eyes look into yours. a nice mocha brown. 
but even with the fresh embarrassment trickling through your veins, you find it in you to speak. desperate, maybe, to cross the distance between you — even when it borders on non-existent. desperate to feel your heartbeats synchronize, figuratively or literally. to stitch them together.
“i want to take care of you, too,” you echo, looking down at the floor. and then back at your girlfriend. hesitant, a tad shy. but sincere.
a sincerity so palpable it makes shoko feel a little jealous. 
(sometimes, she finds herself wanting to put a hand inside your chest. dig around your organs, run her fingertips down every single one, until she finds what she's looking for. that miraculous something that makes you stick around, that makes you so frighteningly easy to love. that makes her want to safeguard you so terribly.)
”then let’s take care of each other,” she breathes, a small smile slipping into the curve of her lips. reaching out to brush against your knuckle, weave your fingers together. delicate. 
she clears her throat. “… i guess.” 
and you can’t help but smile. somewhat cheeky, a little teasing. “ah,” your eyes crinkle, and you stifle a coo. “did that embarrass you?”
a sharp little scoff. shoko gives you a lazy grin, paired with a soft roll of her eyes. brushing her thumb across your knuckles, even still. “oh, shut up.”
the world seems to still, ever so slightly, as you look into each other’s eyes. like everything else is just background noise, from the pitter patter of the rain to the fading smell of coffee all around you. shoko looks at you like she’s trying to see inside your brain, see what makes you tick, see you for what you are.
and when she eventually leans in for a kiss, you’re pliant. expectant. her lips against yours, breathing you in, as soft as ever. like she’s afraid of getting too greedy. she tastes like nectar and cosmetics.
“give me some time,” she says, after pulling back. hands on your waist, squeezing softly. “i’ll make you another cup right now.”
”sure you don’t want me to do it?” you ask. “i don’t mind.”
another little scoff. offended. ”look, i’m not incompetent, okay? i’m just not used to it.” she untangles herself from you, warmth slipping away. you will yourself not to chase it. “just stand there and look pretty for me.”
and she smiles, when those words make you giggle, infected by your sleepy joy. something soft and silky blooms inside her ribcage, mirrored by the glimmer in your eyes when you intertwine your hands again. fingertips brushing against each other, delicate, a love that’s handled with care.
”.. i like making you coffee,” you whisper after a beat. smiling. under your breath, like you’re telling her a secret. ”it makes me happy.”
a moment passes. something in shoko’s bones still, for a second, enough for you to notice. and her eyes fill with a kind of hesitance. doubt, maybe. or fear.
when shoko opens up to you, it’s always like this. sleepy, rainy days, or tipsy afternoons. in no more than a whisper, a fragile breath, the ghost of a confession. when you can feel her heartbeat, one finger on her wrist, listening to the rhythm of her pulse. intimate. a little clumsy, but…
”i just don’t want you to spend too much of yourself on me.”
the words are spoken in passing, almost casually, a lighthearted kind of resignation. a hungry ghost. one that follows her, follows you. suguru and satoru, too. there’s a lump in her throat, you can tell, something that makes it a little harder to say what she means. an intimacy that frightens her in a way nothing else can; frightened to hold it in her palms, to keep it close without having it break apart.
(not just her — you all are. all four of you. that’s why you've always been together, you think, why you always will be. four hedgehogs huddling together in the cold of night, too desperate for warmth to stay away from each other's spines.)
carefully, almost cautiously, you bring her hand to your lips. as if you’re handling a flimsy sheet of glass. featherlight, a touch so tender you hope she knows what you’re about to say before the words leave your throat.
“you’re worth it,” is whispered against her skin, your lips against her knuckles. shoko softens, but you think the sigh that slips from her lips sounds just a little shaky. “always.”
and finally, you know you aren't deluding yourself. it’s there, visible, the cherry red of her ears; a red that matches the lipstick on your skin. a flush that never travels down to her face. but it’s enough.
she clears her throat. voice beginning to change shape, slowly but surely, morning fatigue peeled off with the ticking of the clock. there’s still a raspy residue, leftover smoke that’ll never quite leave her lungs, but it’s silkier now. trickling like honey from her parted lips.
and it’s terribly soft, her tongue twisting around the vowels, a low lilt that drips with tenderness. she wills herself to smile. tired, but fond. “just let me make you one cup, then.”
so you do.
you let her, after briefly pointing out the functions of the far too expensive espresso machine that satoru bought you when you first moved in, and she listens intently. those pretty eyes, the intelligence behind them, her lips pursed in focus. shoko’s a genius, you’ve always thought — so effortlessly good at memorization, at figuring out how things work. what ties everything together. 
you think it’s a little comical that she struggled so much with making coffee, of all things, but you choose to attribute it to her slight hangover.  
because she’s focused, when she begins to fiddle with the machine. attentive. as if she’s dissecting it. a satisfaction in the way she moves, the way everything clicks into place as she works. everything serves a purpose, every single part in the machinery, every tube or pump of caffeine. she compares it to the human body, a glint in her eyes, and you can’t disagree.
all you can do is watch her. silently, entirely mesmerized. sitting on the kitchen counter, bare thighs against the marble, swinging your legs. telling her about the dream you had, while she listens. always.
a fresh, thick aroma of espresso and rainwater begins to waft through the apartment. one you drink in, greedy, steam filling your lungs. as you admire how the tiny droplets bounce off the hyacinths blooming on your balcony.
and when she’s finished, producing one cup of espresso, tailored to your liking, you can’t still the beating of your heart. unsure if you should blame it on the caffeine yet to enter your veins, or the proud smile that lingers on your girlfriend’s lips. maybe the way her fingers curl around the handle, the way a soft here, baby, spills from her smudged lips. all of the above, probably.
she’s gorgeous. breathtaking. sometimes you want to give her everything, more than you could live without. your heart, your lungs, your eyes. anything she asks for.
but she would never. all she’ll ever need is for you to keep sticking around, keep telling her about your silly dreams, keep letting her feel the beat of your pulse at the base of your throat. a mantra she’s fallen a little bit in love with.
and when you put your lips against the ceramic, and a bittersweet scent fills your lungs, you think you can taste it. that care, a love soft enough to mend all the jagged edges of your heart.
shoko smiles. smoothing a stray eyelash from your skin, thumb against your cheekbone. “how is it?”
(you swear it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.)
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flovoid · 1 month
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—oc evolution tag: FLOYD
thank for the tag @elderwisp !!!
floyd is an old sim of mine that I created for the HSY pack, like he was supposed to be a townie and a BFF of my main sim they were but unfortunately when they reached adulthood they separated because apparently my sim was an assehole lmao
and omg- the fact he is now MY MAIN SIM is insane. I just really liked him and I got very attached to him as well, he literally was cool ingame, always positive, never was the annoying townie at all, he literally is the friend of the world gosh I love him.
tagging: @kuroashims @alientown @buttertrait @ezra-trait @xpeachynotes @simminginstars @sertrallne @machinegrl @talentedtrait !!!
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gay-strawberry · 15 days
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me watching the first 11 episodes: 😐
me when bunnies: omg bunnies !! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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nylesart · 24 days
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🍜🫤
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drinkingdeadpeopletea · 2 months
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does anybody else ever think about how moc weepe sold saskia out by name and with a completely casual tone but also screamed her name for no apparent reason while he was being functionally tortured. anyone else just sort of rotating that around in their mind.
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frostwing213 · 12 hours
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I keep getting a lot of Elain stuff popping up on my dash. Mostly about shipping, and I'm like:
How'd this girl end up in a love triangle????
People are very opiniated too, fighting over and making essays about it. There's Elain/Az and Elain/Lucien (There's also Az and Gwen, but I understand how Az got in a love triangle.)
I'm just, struggling to care. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate Elain, I just find her kinda boring. She doesn't do much. She feels like that classic fairytale princess that looks pretty and sad in a tower.
Off the top of my head, these are things that define her (Without being linked to men, becase I'm not there yet. Plus, a female character should be able to stand on her own without the men in her life)
She gardens and is primiarily associaed with flowers
Pretty
Nice
Weak
She kinda killed the king of Hyburn
Didn't want to be a fae
kinda wishy washy
Achreon sister
Quiet
Her sisters want to protect her
Future seeing powers
And I'm out of ideas. From my point of view, she doesn't have any discernable personality. Her three major defining things when people think of her are: Pretty, flowers, soft.
She doesn't act for herself, she doesn't speak up. She goes with what happens and gets sad when she doesn't like it. (Becoming a fae was traumatic, and I understand her reaction, but I don't really like it. AND I HAVEN'T EVeN TOUCHED ON THE GREYSON[was that the human dude's name???]THING YET!)
So, when the books start, early ACOTAR. Archeron sisters are in the woods. Feyre is the only one doing something to support the family. Who is Elain in this book? Pretty gardener. Delicate. She isn't doing anything. Some can argue Nesta isn't either, and as a Nesta Supremist, I have to say she was willing to get married to someone cruel to make it easier on her family, and although that isn't much, it's still something. What does Elain do in this book? Be pretty. Please, someone give me an example of Elain doing something constructive and I will edit it in. Please.
Moving on. Next book. She... hosts the house along with Nesta. Oh! She's engaged to a fae hating guy (Who i think is named Greyson. I can't remember and I'm currently loaning out my 2nd and 3rd book, so I can't check rn). Uh.... I don't remember if she does anything else until the end, where she is captured and dumped in the caldron. We find out Lucien is her mate. EDIT!: As @devi1sange1 pointed out to me, Elain did stand up to Nesta about using their house as a meeting spot for the queens. She also takes responisblty for how they treated Feyre. 2 points for Elain. I give her those
She shows up more after that, so I'm not doing book by book, but she gets dumped fast by her fiancé and hangs out in the house of wind, being very sad. I almost wanna describe her as floaty, because she's acting like a ghost, just existing and mourning what is gone. This is a vaild response, and I understand why she responds this way, it just annoys me because she has not shown any autonomy so far. Anything. I think I remember her asking her ex-fiance to take in humans, but that was after being pushed by the inner circle. Uh... she gives a few prophecies, yay that. When the fighting starts, she stays on the sidelines, which I don't blame her for. She kinda kills the king of Hyburn. I think that's all she does in that.
After that. What does she do? Other than hang around??? I DON'T KNOW!
Elain shows no real drive! She exists and sometimes does stuff to push the plot!
Now onto the (possible) romantic interests she has.
Greyson: Uhhhhh, they like each other. She likes her because she's sweet and pretty. I didn't catch anything else between these two. Uh, he dumps her as soon as she's fae and she gets depressed over it
Lucien: Mating bond. She doesn't like him, I get it. He tries to back off. I think Lucien acts responsibly in this situation. Elain is at no fault in this situation either. Mating bonds don't always pair up the most romantic pair, and it doesn't always work out well. Honestly, I never saw much chemistry between these two, and if not for the bond, they likely would have forever ignored each other.
Azriel: (Random, but I searched him up on tumblr because I couldn't remember how to spell his name, and WOW, there's a lot of Azriel x reader. Yall really 'like' him) How, just how did this become such a popular ship? I never even caught this on my read through. Yeah, Az is nice to her, but he's nice to anyone considered friendly. He's just as nice to Feyre and I don't see anyone shipping those two. I just... don't get it. Is it because we want the sisters paired up with the bat boys? Is that it?? I don't understand. I see no chemistry. It's just two people being nice to one another guys.
I think those are the major ones. I don't understand any of them. Lucien and Az are such powerful charters, while Elain is... 'pretty flower girl'.
I don't hate her, but she kinda annoys me with how much crazines she's getting with people shipping her. Wanna know what i think would be great? She ends up with no one romantically. She has friends, just no romantic partner and that is perfectly fine. Lucien will live. If there's nothing between Az and Gwen, then Az will live.
To wrap up, I find Elain to be a pretty boring charter, I just feel indifferent towards her. I love the other two siblings, but I feel like Elin could have been improved.
Feel free to talk to me about this! Throw out your own opinions! Give me edvince that supports or opposes any of my points! Correct me on stuff and ignore my spelling!
I love a good debate! Give me one! Please.
Interact with me.
Edit!: Thanks for interacting! I swear I'm reading everything! I just didn't expect this to blow up so fast!
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synthshenanigans · 6 months
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I find it hilarious that like, most popular headcanons/ideas of HMS come from something that's in the actual album. Whether its the cover art or from a lyric, it makes sense with context or a metaphor. Then there's just a random ass chicken that came from nowhere.
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yeoldwebkinzcollector · 2 months
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my beautiful whimsey dragon JAMES! (yes, the all caps is on purpose, no i don't know why my younger self did this either)
She was my first ever dragon webkinz, me and my cousin got the same one and we spent hours having them fly around with each other
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jaxxsoxxn · 7 days
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I love the flash design, but I hate drawing the goggles, I'm sorry,, also Flashes design with whited out eyes (tho it might be Wally? Imma be honest, I skipped his ass somehow in the flash fam ladder, even if he seems cool af)
Also tiny Boomer, accompanied by a smaller star glider (? Or light glider? I keep forgetting) and even smaller weather wizard bc I enjoy shipping him with C.C, sue me.
I am still figuring out Captain Cold, but this man n Boomer having a friendly relationship enough for him to try to fistfight Harley every time she's mean to him in a friendly way and the other way around, my fav hc <3
Boomer, watching his ex bestie (ex only bc he got kinda kidnapped) and actual bestie fight, while him and the rest of his two gangs are eating ice cream (above Mr. Heat's ass, who's drinking some hot ass coffee bc he built different): damn, that has nothing to do with me, at all.
I believe in graying C.C supremacy, this man has so many grey hairs, yall ain't ready for the yapfest I can unload about that.
Also lil sis Glider, beloved <33 she n her bros bf have book club Sundays
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jay-wasreblogging · 20 days
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Lestrade is canonically hot because she's a woman. If you know you know.
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basilibino · 1 month
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Season 8 was like 6 years ago(I feel old) and I know ppl have differing opinions on the Mr Echo thing (but it was intended, made it to storyboard and blocked animation and then dropped, soooo) but. I can see his recruitment p easily tbh. Bc the whole reason Dr J was in that lighthouse was because he was resurrected, forced there, and ordered to build Skulkin vehicles by Samukai. But Samukai in the flashback we see has already been deposed as leader of the Skulkin/Underworld. Which means the orders to do so most likely came from Garmadon.
And since Mr. E is one of the head honchos, he's likely an early arrival to the team, so I don't think Harumi has a whole lot figured out at this point, she's just got her Trauma and some Bad Influence Friends and an obsession with Lord Garmadon. So. Like. Plausible deniability road trip that she's just visiting important markers of Ninjago's recent past, all of which involve Lord Garmadon in some meaningful way; its sightseeing, its cathartic, and it gives her time to develop her dream Motorcycle Gang/Resurrection Cult. She's not looking for anyone at the Lighthouse, but she is looking for vehicle blueprints so she can be the Koolest leader on the block. But oops she looks in the basement and there's an Echo.
And she's flipping out bc??? A Ninja???? In the Lighthouse basement??? I mean it makes sense that it would be this one but???
Except this rusty old robot has no idea what she's talking about with this Ninja stuff, he's just waiting for his dad to come back.
And Harumi pauses.
Because how long has he been waiting? He's not sure, he had no proper way to measure time in the basement, and he doesn't have the best view of his clockwork heartpiece. But it was after his father saw a strange ship docking; Echo was worried it was the People who had locked up his father in the first place, but instead his dad sounded happy when he saw whoever was out there. It could have been a front, though, as clearly it was never safe to let Echo back out. Then Dr J popped down briefly, while everyone above was resting, to tell Echo he was desperately needed elsewhere, that it wasn't safe to bring Echo, but that he'd be back in no time.
And the pieces are fitting together for Harumi. And she's like. Your dad's dead, bro.
And he's like. What? Did he die doing what was needed of him?
And she's like. Oh, no. He died a few years later.
And he's like. Why didn't he come back for me????
And she's like. Probably because they kept him away.
And he's like. Who's they?
And she's like. The Ninja I was talking about earlier.
And it surely can't be hard in universe to find pictures of Zane and Dr J post s2-pre s3, so she pulls one up and shows Echo who is freaking out bc why is that one kind of like him and Harumi explains that that was the droid his father created first, that he became a Ninja, and that hes probably the one who took their father away and kept echo waiting for years.
But Echo has doubts, shocked as he is abt a new older brother, he wants to believe the good in the situation so he's unsure. But Harumi mentions that the Ninja's failures to uphold more than their self preservation/interests has led to uncountable losses and devastation in Ninjago time and time again, before delving into her own story. And she seems so kind, and so hurt, and I do think there's a genuine connection btwn these two that forms from this shared emotional torment that they decide came from the Ninja, and now Echo is more receptive.
And then Harumi gets to start her Garmadon pitch because wait! If Echo was made here, then that could only have happened because of Lord Garmadon. And she reiterates that he's the reason she and her city could have even survived The Great Devourer. And maybe Echo's family-by-creation left, maybe they were untrustworthy and lacking, but that's OK bc if you look at it all a certain way, Garmadon is more of a father to Echo than Dr J was. And Echo is a vulnerable, overwhelmed mess who just found out his dad fucked off for years without him and also died, and also he has a brother??? Who their dad clearly seems to have favored??? Did they even know about Echo??? Did they delight in their life free of him???
Basically. Kinda Spinel-core but getting abandoned and left completely alone does that to you. Especially when the first person to find you after being abandoned is a deeply hurt and misguided teen who is probably kinda desperate for someone, anyone else to see the Ninja the way she sees them.
#i was thinking abt the idea of citrusshipping#and how it could have flowed into Mr Echo. with morro as the vengeful influence tinting these#one sided experiences to associate ninja with loss#but theni was like 'wait a sec tho bc Harumi does that also and its her gang called the sons of garmadon#and if youre very carfeully squinting and cherrypicking out pesky details and nuance. like harumi would be.#echos existence is thanks to Lord Garmadon. and there is no better replacement dad than garmadon. you should be a son of garmadon.#and echo would probably listen and she could get him out the lighthouse and off the island'#and anyway i kinda ship Harumi and Echo now?#i like citrusshipping its funney but i think i actually ship this dynamic now#its. fucked and manipulative but its also like. genuine and just. two scarred young people and harumi gives echo her distorted view#of the world as the gift of her love#so its like she wasnt trying to manipulate echo. not like she was trying to manipulate Lloyd.#but she did take someone in a v fragile state and begin shaping his worldview to match hers. unconciously but still done.#like i can also see her bringing him to the mainland and she and UV and Killow are his tethers which means everything he sees radicalizes#him further...and draws him in closer to the fold#anyway if he and harumi smoochie kiss then shes why he got rebuilt in Crystallized. also i think mr F stands for 'Mr Fun Guy'#echo zane#harumi jade#ninjago harumi#quietmystery?#idk what the ship name would be but im here for it#mr e ninjago#mr echo#echo/harumi#tbh i said i kinda ship it now but it could also be friendship#sons of garmadon#...ok til abt the morro-echo-harumi trio hcs and Yes#this is just more of a like. canon compliant ish take where morro is still gone from the narrative#love the idea of the 3 in a vengeance trio tho
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I think people overestimate how feminist team black is. If someone brings up how Baela should be the heir to Driftmark, it's always "she would've been Queen if not for the Greens!", ignoring that 1, she would be Queen consort, not a Queen in her own right, and 2 she has a legitimate claim in her own right to Driftmark. Team Black's goal is to crown Rhaenyra, but Rhaenyra becoming Queen isn't a win for feminism because it does nothing to dismantle the rest of the patriarchal system that exists in Westeros. From what we've gotten so far, it reads that Rhaenyra wants to be the exception and not the rule. Rhaenyra has made a lot of bad political decisions, which means she can't acknowledge Baela's claim because it would weaken her own claim (blatantly admitting her eldest sons are illegitimate would not end well for her to say the least). So she betrothes Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena to kind of atone for that, like as a consolation prize Baela will be Queen and Rhaena will be lady of Driftmark, neither of them would hold either title in their own right. It's good matches because the kids like each other and will treat each other well, but it's not a feminist win or a feministic liberation. It's usurpation, usurpation that takes place because Rhaenyra has to do damage control after having illegitimate children and after a serious of bad political decisions (both hers and her fathers, Viserys is the arbiter of this entire mess). To me, Rhaenyra is very reminiscent of Mary Queen of Scots, I can see a lot of elements drawn from Mary's history in Rhaenyra's story and character, down to their sons eventually taking the crown they failed to claim/keep.
#hotd#hotd spoilers#house of the dragon#house of the dragon spoilers#Rhaenyra targaryen critical#I'm going to do a rewatch prior to season 2 & I'm going to analyse the bad political decisions from vis & Rhaenyra that lead to the dance#like by no means the only factors at play lets not forget otto daemon larys etc#but it's an interesting factor that the fandom doesn't really acknowledge#and a lot of Rhaenyra's bad political decisions are understandable because of her youth and because viserys does fuck all to prepare her#like even if she wasn't who he choose as heir she should've been given a better political education as a princess#but vis fails his most of his other four kids in that regard to#i mean he also fails to acknowledge them or remember them but anyways#he is a huge part of the reason aegon and aemond became he they did#props to whoever probably alicent for sending daeron to oldtown so he could grow up well adjusted#alicent: i'm writing a letter to daeron is there anything you would like to say to him?#viserys: daemon? why are you writing to daemon?#alicent: daeron?#viserys: who?#alicent: our son? the one you sent to squire in oldtown?#viserys: i think i'd remember if we had a son who's name was one letter different to my brothers#viserys: in fact i do alicent do you mean the one who lost an eye?#alicent: *screaming internally*#viserys targaryen#king viserys#rhaenyra is such an interesting character but i hate how the fandom sanctified her because how dare characters be complex and have flaws#like you dont have to justify their actions or bend over backwards to deny their faults to like a character you know 😭#and the same thing is done to daemon who is far more fucked up and far more flawed in the show than the fandom allows#i hate the team stuff tho i get hbo going for it as a marketing move that was genius but my god are certain stans insufferable#the entire point of the dance is that its a pointless tragedy there's no good or bad side theyre both awful in their own ways#but thats a longer rant for another time outside of the tags
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hellafluff · 2 years
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The Spamton Sweepstakes lore is fascinating but I haven't really seen anyone talking about Noelle's mother in all this, because there's been a lot of references to her and how she is really really not a nice person, which we got a bit of in the game itself but seeing so much of it here is interesting...
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Like, I assuming the "rich and powerful bitch" (implied) who gave Noelle the watch is her Mayor Mother. And we also see how scared Noelle is to make noise for fear her mom will take away her game. I think this may also be why Dess is gone, having been driven away by their mother, but there's not as much info there without delving into pure speculation
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spaceratprodigy · 12 days
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could i bother u for more thoughts on faith and max in a mock apple orchard 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
@gayafsatan — I would absolutely LOVE to brainstorm some fun ideas of them in a mock apple orchard!!
I've been replaying again so they've been rotating around in my mind a lot extra hard and was especially thinking about mock apple picking bc the botanical labs also has a lil orchard where you can pick mock apples up off the ground! But I'm currently in Roseway so oughhh.. ideas....
I want you now I am going to ramble a LOT so please bear with me I swearsies it'll be more fun if we get the full lore dump from my brain 😩💖💕
👇 ROSEWAY THOUGHTS 👇
(I AM GOING TO TALK ABT ROSEWAY THOUGHTS AS A WHOLE AND THEN EASE INTO SOME SILLY MOCK APPLE ORCHARD IDEAS AT THE END OKAY. OKAY ILY THANK YOU).
My thoughts are very chaotic and rambly so let me try to walk though my ideas lmao
Roseway is typically where I peg Faith's death wish arc happening, and to summarize what all that entails, it's when the mask slips and the weight of everything finally hits her in full force.
I always envision this story happening over a long period of time so a lot of time has passed since first arriving at Edgewater and the Groundbreaker.
Halcyon. Her situation. Her identity. The life Phineas threw her into abruptly and his expectations for her. Making split second moral decisions where no matter what someone is going to get hurt. Being so alien and alone, no one to understand her or believe in her predicament but having to be the mysterious competent captain regardless.
It finally gets to her. Bad. And she makes some self destructive decisions. She gets sloppy, careless, hoping someone else will end this nightmare for her. Until they almost do.
I am swiftly brushing past many details so we don't get too lost in the sauce. But Max went after her, found her collapsed and injured bad, carried her back to the ship for Ellie to do whatever she could, and then stayed by her side for as long as it took for her to wake up.
This is such a key moment for them getting closer. Because there was a lot of frustration and emotion and being forced to confront the possibility of feelings existing, but nothing they fully understand or are ready to acknowledge as such yet.
She tries to brush past the subject of what happened, deflecting everything until he raises his voice in a way he hasn't since she gave him the journal and she threatened he never talk like that to her again. And it was enough to break through her facade, for her to show just how utterly broken and vulnerable she is, and they have a proper fucking conversation about where she's at mentally. He still isn't ready for the truth about her life before. But it's a step forward.
There is a lot of patience and understanding and just. Yeah. A lot happens here. Some walls come down. There grows some room for them to become softer and closer over more time.
All of this is important because a short piece I had written a long time ago took place in this area roughly after this incident.
It was a personal outlet vent piece, I will be honest. When I wrote it it was after I had a very bad panic attack after an awful scare. And I wrote it into Faith because I just wanted to get some feelings from that experience out of my system.
The shortened version of that one is Faith recovering from a bad episode, trying to calm her breathing, waiting for her ears to stop ringing and for her vision to come back. Her legs gave out on her and she was sitting under the mock apple trees. Her voice locks up on her when she's seriously distressed. Yadda yadda yadda, Max had brought along his datapad so she could communicate anything important and she was incredibly confused because she knows he doesn't like using his datapad ever and then rendered even more speechless to know he brought it specifically for her in case something like this were to happen again. It ends with her just asking if he would keep talking to her, and they sit there under the mock apple trees for a while, in no particular rush to get anywhere.
And after this point, I think the mock apple orchards become a really peaceful, therapeutic spot for her when she just wants a moment to herself. Sits there, breathes, takes in the Roseway scenery and collects herself before jumping back into the horrors of Halcyon. Spends some time picking mock apples to take back to the ship.
I've been having a lot of ideas of her asking Max to go with her. I'm of the mind if she'd ask directly that he'd either decline, or at least pretend to be uninterested but she's the one who asked so he accepts the offer.
But I can see her being vague and just saying that she's heading out if he'd join her and she leads him to the orchards. By this point they're already often in each other's company, she indulges his interests often, letting him be the one who is finally listened to. But in general, they get along very well in conversation when it comes to a handful of similar interests and their personalities and attitudes bounce off of each other well.
(In my story anyway, since she spends an extended amount of time in Edgewater and the Vale, there was also a lot of time spent doing some early bonding with Max. So do with that info what you will. They're not likeee besties yet but they're much more than strangers by this point, ya'know? Just to get an idea of where their familiarity with each other is at and why there's enough respect and trust to some extent already existing. Not to mention how much time they had spent on the Groundbreaker).
They'd be having such a peaceful time away from the rest of the crew.
Oughhh hear me out, okay, Faith loves to bake. She doesn't even ask, she just makes Max hold her bag open while she starts collecting mock apples and after they finally head back to the ship she figures out how to make mock apple pie for the crew 😭 we already know Max doesn't care much for sweets (I wonder how sweet or tart a mock apple pie would be.. Faith girl what all Halcyon ingredients are you adding to that bad boy) but.. what if.... After everyone goes to bed...... He tries some anyway........ Because she made it..........
Most of what's bouncing around in my brain is them early on having wholesome bonding time in a spot just for the two of them. Just enjoying each other's company. Realizing they have genuine respect for each other, Faith feeling like she found a genuine friend who went to lengths further than anyone had in her entire life to make sure she survived. I am specifying Faith's feelings here intentionally. I write Max in a more complicated spot very blinded by his revenge scheme more or less unaware for a long while just how much the lines start blurring between his faith and his Faith. To put it succinctly. (Look I know I'm always drawing The Good Stuff™️ but in actuality their relationship is suchhhh a slow burn. They are not the most romantically inclined people lmao).
But also.. once she realizes she can talk to him when she needs to. I think coming back to this spot, off the ship, away from the crew, she just likes it there. She likes being there with him. She finds comfort in that spot.
OKAY BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE WOULD BE CUTE.... they should come back here.. post-scylla and post-gorgon...... Ya'know......... The first being when they establish not wanting to be apart and the second being when they want to make that partnership a permanent one......... ASKING HER IN THE MOCK APPLE ORCHARDS WOULDN'T THAT BE DARLING ough okay I need a minute my brain is going too fast to comprehend
My Roseway ideas aren't the most cleaned up I know BUT so many important bonding moments exist and oughhhh LOOSE IDEAS ARE STILL WORTH TALKING ABOUT OKAYYYYY
I just want them to go mock apple picking together and learn how to get smiles out of each other and not understand why it makes their chests hurt but they know they need to do it again
ACTUALLYYYYY post-scylla when he's much more mellowed out and they're the closest they've been I think would be so so nice. they'd be so much softer and he'd probably be so much more involved in wanting to enjoy silly lil activities with her.....
Currently imagining him reading out loud to her, all the conversations they'd have, maybe he brings his tossball cards to show her, maybe they bring one of the lil games, have a lil makeshift picnic....
Godddd the transition between just how much enthusiasm he shows spending time with her is enough to make me explode. Can you see my vision. The reluctance, to the hesitancy, to becoming absolutely inseparable.
I HAVE A LOT TO THINK ABOUT BUT I'M GETTING SLEEPY SO SENDING IT!!!!!!
Literally feel free to add on or share your own thoughts I'm begging you lmao I promise there is so much room for ideas to be fleshed out and better put together, I'm mostly just spitballing what all I think would be incredibly fun ideas to work with. Plus I'm kind of thinking across the timeline and how much their relationship would change between each visit. And how over time they would enjoy it more and more and make each visit more special than the last.
WAIT BEFORE I LOSE THE THOUGHT!! They make a stop RIGHT BEFORE HEADING TO SCYLLA TO GO TO THE HERMIT'S LODGE!! Oh that could hurt so good omgggg. Okay okay I need to stop now I NEED TO STOP.
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