#i tried writing guys <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bruisedboys · 10 months

Note

STAR TRIPPING, blurbs ─── send in a character + a prompt from the lists above and I’ll write you a blurb!

could do you do a fluff blurb with miguel o'hara for~

❛ was that your first kiss? ❜

❛ do you think i’m a good person? ❜

❛ what if i hurt you? ❜

ive never really requested anything and i don't if that's too many prompts, so very sorry, ignore this if it's too much !! <3

hi angel!! thank you so much for the ask. I just used one of these prompts, I hope you don’t mind! 🤍

SPOILERS FOR SPIDERMAN: ATSV BELOW THE CUT!

miguel o’hara x spider-person!reader, no pronouns used, fluff and a tiny bit of angst!

prompt — ❛ do you think i’m a good person? ❜

Miguel isn’t used to feeling judged. He doesn’t care what other people think, especially when most people who don’t like him are much younger and much more inexperienced, in his opinion (Read: Hobie Brown).

But with you around it’s different. He feels like he needs to be better. Kinder, maybe. He’s not exactly sure why. Or rather, he knows exactly why but doesn’t want to admit it.

You’re kind, you’re really kind, probably the sweetest most selfless spider-person he’s ever had to deal with. And he’s dealt with a lot. Miguel likes how kind you are. At first it sort of stopped him in his tracks, threw him for a loop. Now that he’s known you for a while he’s found himself acting differently, being more forgiving of mistakes, letting things go that he usually wouldn’t. He’d never admit it out loud, but he knows it’s because he likes you. And, more importantly, he wants you to like him.

Still, he messes up sometimes. A mission to catch a Vulture variant turns messy when the Spider-Woman from the dimension he’d landed in gets stuck in a problem she can’t get out of. Gwen Stacy — she’s young, and she’s on her own, and she’s lost. Miguel is hesitant to let her on. He’s more rude to her than he should be. Snarky, mean. But in the end he lets her come, because what kind of person would he be if he left her there alone?

When he gets back he doesn’t mean to seek you out but finds you anyway. You’re in his office, of all places. He stands in the doorway feeling awful, feeling like you’d hate him for how he treated Gwen today. After a while he clears his throat though he doesn’t have to, you probably already know he’s there, what with your spider-senses and all.

You turn from your seat and smile at him. “You’re back. How did it go?”

Miguel doesn’t smile though he’d like to if he could. You’re the only one who can ever get a smile out of him. “Good. Everything’s taken care of.”

“Heard you picked up a new recruit,” you say with a little lilt to your voice. You’re always excited for new recruits. Quite the opposite of Miguel, really.

Miguel nods. The topic of Gwen makes him feel nauseous. Why did he have to be such a jerk to her? “We did. Gwen Stacy, she’s in the med bay right now.”

Your brow furrows. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Just a little scratched up.”

You nod. “Well, you probably want your office back,” you say softly, gesturing to the desk you’ve been occupying in place of him. “I’ll go.”

You get up and walk past him and Miguel almost lets you go but doesn’t. He calls your name before you make it out the door.

“Y/N?”

His voice comes out more strained than he’d meant it to sound. You don’t say anything but when he turns you’re looking at him with a worry to your pretty features. Miguel figures he must look quite troubled because you actually take a step forwards and put your hand on his forearm, so gentle it’s barely there, but it’s there, and it’s feels like dead weight to Miguel.

“Yeah?”

Miguel bites the bullet and asks the question he’s been asking himself for a long time. “Do you think I’m a good person?”

You blink at him. You’re silent for a beat. Then, “What’s making you ask that?”

Your hand drifts up his forearm and comes to rest at his elbow, your grip tightening ever so slightly. Miguel’s eyelids flutter lazily at your touch.

“I’m short with people,” is all he can manage to say in way of an explanation.

“You’ve got a stressful job,” you say reasonably. “It’s only human.”

“I was short with Gwen,” Miguel explains, finding the longer you touch him, the more he unravels. He stares at a point over your shoulder, “She didn’t deserve it.”

“Oh,” is all you say.

Miguel thinks his heart might drop out of his chest. Maybe it will and then he’ll keel over and die and never have to worry about what you think of him again. Unlikely. He’s never been that lucky.

He doesn’t realise how heavy the silence feels until you break it.

“Miguel? Can you look at me?”

Miguel looks at you. You’re pretty as ever. He’s always thought you were pretty, but now it feels suffocating. Like, if he doesn’t tell you soon, he’ll die.

“You’re not a bad person,” you say. “You’re good. You are. Everyone gets a little impatient sometimes.”

“You don’t,” Miguel says, because you don’t. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you get angry or upset with someone.

“That is so not true,” you say, shaking your head. “Ask Peter B, the other day I blew up at him for leaving Mayday’s toys all over the place.”

Miguel fights a smile. He can’t imagine you ever ‘blowing up’. “This is different, Y/N. You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean,” you say, your hand squeezing ever so slightly at his elbow. “And yeah, you have a short temper sometimes but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. What you’re doing here is good. You’re a good person, Miguel.”

You smile then, like you mean it, and Miguel knows you do. If he’d heard it from anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed them. But from you it feels real. He knows you wouldn’t lie to him, even if it was to make him feel better. You might be kind but you’re not dishonest. Yet another reason why Miguel likes you so much.

“Thank you,” he says. “You’re—“ He stops himself before he can say anything too serious, changes tactics though what he comes up with instead is still very much true. “I value your opinion more than you’d think. It’s important to me.” You’re important to me.

Miguel shifts his arm so he can take your hand in his. It’s bold. It’s unlike him. But it feels nice and your hand is soft in his and he hopes it will say what he can’t. He only holds your hand for a second before dropping it but it feels like an eternity.

“That’s okay,” you say sweetly. “Your opinion is important to me, too.”

Then, and Miguel is familiar with this by now, you get this look on your face like you’re going to make a joke, one that’s bad but will probably make him smile anyway. “If you still feel bad, you can always go and apologise to her,” you say, a cheek to your tone that Miguel adores more than he’d ever admit.

Miguel groans. You both know he’d never stoop that low. He smiles for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Would you do it for me?” He asks in a strained sort of voice, half joking and half serious.

You burst into giggles. Miguel feels his heart soar.

645 notes · View notes

goldenhypen · 5 months

Text

⋆｡⠐ happy ✧｡♡

✴︎｡⠐ birthday ⠐⚬⋅｡

⋅｡⠐ to the kindest cutest most loving cheerful hard working greatest prettiest handsomest funniest hottest jakey sim 🦭 ⚬♡⋅｡

⎯ ⋅ ♡ ⋅ ⎯

jake, my love and admiration for you go beyond words. thank you for blessing me with so much joy and love in my life. you’re an inspiration to so many and i’m so grateful for you and incredibly proud of where you are and who you’ve become. and you deserve all the best things, or at least to have the best birthday of your life this year <3 eat well and celebrate lots my love <3 i love you and happy birthday <33

#THE FIRST PIC #has me on my knees 🥲🧎🏻‍♀️#I CANT TELL YOU WHY I HAVE REAL TEARS IN MY EYES AS I PUT THIS POST TGT #i RLLY miss him :(#i love you jake with my whole entire heart #have the best day ever :’> <3 #sparing you all from the spam like last year djsnjd #life has gotten the best of me lately but i hope to be more active soon :’>#sorry i keep disappearing my loves #OH i also tried so very hard for the past idek how long.. MONTHS? to write smth for this special day but aha..#it looks like your girls stuck in a bad case of writers block again :’>#anyway i’ll come back soon #i miss you guys :(#i hate that i’m using his bday post as an update post 😭#happy jake day my loves 🥹🫶🏻#em speaks #♡#happy jakey day! <3

295 notes · View notes

tillman · 2 months

Text

The writing in part 1 of jojos specifically really gets to me because dio is such a fascinating villain for a story with such heavy themes of nature vs nurture and humanity and what not but also they do the “you disagree with this mans morals. He puts dogs into furnaces” bit and constantly go “he was born evil hes the devil its in his Blood” its so fucking funny. I dont know im genuinely obsessed with how poorly it fumbles its very few themes. And I know thats not the point. But its just a hysterical reading to me.

#its like genuinely astounding how it tries to take dio somewhere with the nature vs nurture thing.#and then ends up going ITS IN HIS BLOOOOOOD !!!! like lmao. ok.#txt #I dont know I think dio is too fucking good of a character. god damn.#part 3 doesnt even bother with writing dio as like a foil to the joestars in a thematic narrative sense #just in a very literal narrative sense. and thats fine. its fun. maybe it goes harder in the last half I dont recall #but its just hysterical how p1 really wants to lean into it. and then just kinda stumbles its way into HES WVILLLLL #GUYS YOU HATE HIMMMM HE BURNS DOGGGS HES WVIL like its just comedic

104 notes · View notes

lesbaurinkos · 7 months

Text

my g&g designs from this :D gryphons and gargoyles you are everything to me

#I LOOOVE THEIR LITTLE PARTY I LOVE G&G #no one asked about my thoughts for their party comp but they’re imo a tank (archie obvi) and 3 dps #in my vision here sorceresses are a healer class and alice woulda tried to raise betty to be one too (safe & off the front lines) but #obvi that’s not what betty really wanted. so she’s a dps but she’s still got rudimentary healing spells in case of emergency #(guy frantically writing a g&g au in their notes app between classes. i think about this all the time)#if anyone plays ffxiv. in my head betty’s basically a red mage but more physical fighting less spells. just a mild vercure. hope that helps #and archie’s paladin design while it’s based off ffxiv’s paladin armor i would say his skillset is more like dark knight. self-sacrifing et #riverdale #archie andrews #jughead jones #betty cooper #veronica lodge #riverdoodles

134 notes · View notes

zushimart · 7 months

Text

crossed wires, ch.2. m!spiderman!reader x civilian!scara. friends to lovers, childhood friends. 2.6k words. warnings: a car almost hits someone, no one is hurt. read ch.1/the teaser here. and remember to leave feedback if you enjoyed!

there’s quiet chatter in the blindingly bright classroom of his morning lecture. the professor is filing through papers in his office a room over, so students are free to flit from one table to the next and examine the different instruments organized for the laboratory.

he takes a seat in the chair at a table farthest from the door, a good distance from the board. it used to be an issue – just last year he was squinting to make out little letters on a powerpoint slide – but now, his gaze is crystal clear. must’ve gone to the campus café together, he notices, eyes glancing at the neighboring table of pre-med sorority girls sipping through straws while trading their phones around.

“i don’t think i’d be into him if i could see his face,” one says, passing a phone back. “like, not to sound shallow…��

her friend pulls her hair back into a pony, shrugging, “so what if you can or can’t see his face? either way, he’s still spiderman.”

“what if he’s bald?” the third one asks, scrolling to another video of the hero taken from the night before.

“some bald people are cute!” the other girl protests. “and he’s better than anyone on your roster,” she says, earning a laugh and a smack to her shoulder.

and despite them paying him no mind, he shrinks into his seat, embarrassed. he keeps an eye and an ear out, though, unable to staunch his own curiosity. he hadn’t had time this morning to see the videos the public managed to catch. the haphazard stop of a grand theft auto almost escalated into a sticky car chase with him attached to the trunk, flying in the wind like a piece of paper.

“i would let him,” the first girl admits. “unless he’s like, over forty.”

“that would make it even better,” one of them giggles.

“what are you staring at?” a familiar voice cuts through his eavesdropping and he tilts his head to the side just before scara can shove him forward, evading the playful blow. “how do you always manage to do that?”

“‘cause i know you so well,” he says, not looking up. “good morning, scara.”

“yeah, hey,” scara mumbles while pulling out the seat beside him. “signora texted me this morning saying she’s using one of her free skips and childe’s traveling for a varsity game.”

“so… we’re alone?” he tries not to sound too excited.

“for lecture and lab, yeah. it’s in pairs anyway. they’ll have to make it up together.”

a yelp from the table over startles them both as one of the girls fights her friends for her phone back in a fit of giggles. he tears his eyes away from them and looks to scara, pulling out materials for class.

“hey…” he bids and scara hums expectantly. “how do you feel about spiderman?” he rubs the back of his neck. “i heard them talking about him earlier…”

scara raises an eyebrow. “what about him?”

“like,” he blows air, “would you consider yourself like, i dunno, a fan?”

“do you?”

he chews his lip. “i-i guess?”

scara nods slowly and shrugs. “hmn.”

“what?”

“don’t really have an opinion. i haven’t thought about it.” scara’s pause stretches into seconds before he opens his mouth again. he likes to make people wait for him. “i guess if it’s one guy… it’s nice that he can protect people from like… i dunno, freak evil scientist shit,” scara says. “vigilante shit is weird. i’ll think about it more.”

“mn. i didn’t really mean morally,” he says, twisting the string of his hoodie around his finger.

“then how did you mean it?” scara asks, tapping the tip of his capped pen against his lips.

“do you think he’s… like…” he asks. “you know…”

scara’s lip puckers like he’s tasted something sour. “are you into him?” he asks like lightning.

“i asked first.”

“i haven’t looked hard enough.”

“fine, then me neither.”

scara laughs, crossing his arms. “yeah right, you’ve totally got spiderman underwear, maybe some toys to match,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“i do not!” his voice cracks with indignation. “he’s not my type at all.”

embers burn in scara’s heart, pumping hot blood to his face and turning it pink. he props his chin up with his hand, head firmly turned. “and what’s your type?” he mumbles, muffled through his fingers.

but the professor strides into the room. the chatter stalls as he readies his powerpoint and podium before staring expectantly at the clock to strike eight on the dot. textbooks slam onto the table, laptops open, pens and pencils hit paper – their conversation lost in biology.

he hands scara a pair of forceps, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while a question bounces around his mind a few times.

“you look stupid,” scara says, catching him in the periphery.

“i like people smarter than me,” he blurts. “a-and… mean to me. what do you like?”

scara blinks.

“still on this?” he asks, blasé concealing how his hands falter.

“don’t squeeze too hard,” his labmate says with his way of twisting a command into the whisper of a suggestion. at anyone else’s correction, irritation would pickle scara’s mood.

“are those your only qualifications?” scara snaps.

he blinks. “should i have more?”

“lots of girls are smarter than you,” he points out. “your iq’s not anything special, anyway.”

“i said people?”

“what?”

“i said people smarter than me,” he says.

scara swallows hard, looking up to meet confusion written in those eyes. “oh.” he mumbles, heart slamming uncomfortably hard against his ribcage. “…then even more people are smarter than you.”

“but not a lot of people are mean to me,” he points out, reaching over to turn the burner off before their solution bubbles over. “not like it makes a difference, anyway,” he says with a decorative smile. “because maybe the people mean to me aren’t very smart at all.”

if he didn’t know any better, scara might think he was flirting. “maybe,” he blurts, nervousness ballooning in his throat.

“so, you didn’t know?”

“know what?” he snaps, blush blooming.

“people not girls.”

“you don’t talk about it,” scara points out. “you’re secretive about… that.” he always has been, dodging truth or dare at middle school sleepovers and avoiding drinking games at high school parties like he’s afraid he’ll admit something or kiss the wrong person.

“so, you thought i was off the table?” he teases with a half-smile.

well, yeah. scara’s only ever seen him with a girl before. he remembers, the colors still vibrant and the shapes still sharp, unlocking their cramped first-year dorm without warning only to catch him tussling teeth and tongue with his half-sister, mona. scara’s mouth twitches into the ghost of a grimace in the wake of the resurfaced memory.

this time, scara successfully pushes him away, but he’s giggling as he takes stumbling steps back.

he can’t deny how revolutionary the admission is. they’d somehow veered into a timeline where the weed of affection growing a woody stem in scara’s stomach could blossom. maybe he could even pluck it as it grows up his throat and hand it to the boy next to him. and maybe he wouldn’t sneer. maybe he might quite like it, think it nice and keep it in a vase.

a part of scara hopes he might have a type. that type. smarter than him, sure. mean to him, of course. with dark hair, blunt bangs, and maybe… ugh.

“i can’t believe you kissed my sister,” scara mutters under his breath.

“i-i, what? where is this coming from?” he squeaks back, throwing a pair of hands into the air. “that was, like, years ago and it— you know what? you keep dodging my questions,” he accuses.

scara rolls his eyes, scissors slicing fine white lines of paper into test strips.

“so, what kind of people do you like?”

“i like guys dumber than me, obviously,” scara mumbles. nice to me, he thinks to himself. “maybe someone funny. i don’t know.”

and this time, in his periphery, he catches sight of a bit back smile, lips stretched over hidden teeth. “spiderman’s your type, then?”

“i wouldn’t know,” scara grumbles at the reintroduction. like the arrival of a rival, he bitterly reflects. “maybe he’s yours. i don’t care for celebrities.”

“fine,” he draws out the syllable, almost annoyed. a hand pushes scara’s shoulder as he dips the test strips into the solution, knocking him a step to the left and interrupting his ministrations. pressure builds like steam in the teakettle of scara’s little body, but before he can open his mouth to admonish, his labmate is staring at his phone.

“gotta use the bathroom. might take awhile. feels explosive,” he mumbles, body moving to catch up with how faraway his mind has already run. like a flash, it happened.

and scara grabs his wrist before he can take a second step.

“you’re lying,” he says, eyes a little wide as if he’s surprised with himself… surprised by the motion sickness surging from the unpredictable swings between giddy excitement to sharp frustration to sluggish disappointment.

the boy looks from scara’s hold, tight enough to cut off circulation, to his eyes. surprise mirrors surprise. his mouth opens, but this time, nothing comes out.

scara looks away. he pulls away. he makes himself smaller. “whatever. just go. fuck off.”

he walks away without a word.

he sips from a juicebox while mentally mapping his patrol route for the rainy afternoon on his walk home from classes. he couldn’t make it back from the corner store robbery before the end of biology and he winces when he remembers the look on scara’s face. guilty conscience manipulates his fingers into sending another apology text that’s delivered but never read. maybe if he finishes the report before scara opens the document, his haughty prince will forgive him.

muscle memory takes him up a staircase, fingers fishing a ring of keys from his pocket to unlock a heavy 19th century door. it swings open on rusty hinges, screaming loud enough to inspire ghost stories at least three floors down. he gives a tentative hello to his aunt, smoke billowing from the kitchen as may disassembles the beeping alarm dangling from the ceiling. she gives him an apologetic smile and he rolls up his sleeves to open rusted-shut windows, fanning for a moment before she shoos his help away.

he holes up in his bedroom, keeping a careful ear listening till minutes later, like clockwork, he hears a goodbye followed by the heavy door swinging closed with another awful groan. after double-checking the stove to avoid another building fire, he’s ready to exit.

patrol is slow. between stopping a simple collision and rescuing a cat from a tree, nothing calls his immediate attention. and now, he sits in wait. the sky looks heavy, but not exhausted — just tired enough to droop. he blinks rain from the eyes of his mask, thinking to himself how useful it might be to have doc ock’s personal phone number so the guy could shoot him a text when he’s on the move. until he catches sight of an achingly pretty face amongst a sea of multi-colored umbrellas.

it isn’t stalking, he thinks to himself as he sticks close to the wall across the narrow street, unspotted by pedestrians below. just curiosity. making sure he’s safe. scara disappears into a flower shop. a few minutes later, he blossoms from the door holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath and a single carnation, eyes glued to his phone as he takes a stumbling step forward onto the sidewalk.

he smiles, a big tenderness swelling in his chest as he imagines himself wrapping an arm around scara’s shoulders to steady his gait.

until there’s an eerie tingle singing up the back of his neck.

the sound of a taxi hitting the brakes after a sharp turn echoes between buildings. tires hydroplane across slick city streets and the yellow cab hurtles over the curb like a speed bump, giving scara a single second between looking up and being hit by two tons of metal.

webs have shot out and stuck to the back of the car. the force of his superhuman pull, leveraged by swinging around a telephone pole and a streetlight, brings the taxi to a screeching halt just a hair’s length away from where scara stands.

some onlookers offer a quick cheer as spiderman jumps down onto the sidewalk before returning to busy lives, but a few linger to watch and film the superhero skitter over to the boy standing stock still in front of the car, frozen in shock.

“are you okay?” he asks, hands reach scara’s shoulders just before he’s shoved off with alien strength — shocked into the realization that he is a complete stranger.

he takes a step back and lets his eyes flit to the taxi to check if the occupants are okay. the driver’s stumbling out, unharmed and apologetic as he surveys the damage to his vehicle.

the hero’s attention snaps back to scara when he stutters, “s-sorry.” he’s white-knuckling the bouquet in his hands, stems broken.

spiderman clears his throat, coughs once or twice as he tries to drop his pitch, “your flowers,” he says. scara shakes his head like he’s coming to and looks down, quickly loosening his grip. “that was scary,” he supplies.

scara swallows hard. “yeah,” he manages. “holy shit. um, thanks,” he bows his head with gratitude. “yeah, thank you,” he repeats a bit firmer.

“no problem,” he says, devoid of all usual disarming charm as his mind conjures a world where he took a minute longer during lunch or made a left instead of a right on the boulevard.

actually, he almost throws up.

scara walks off.

he stares after him, legs moving to catch up quicker than his thoughts can.

scara glances to his right and almost jumps. “w-what? why are you following me? did i forget something?” he slows down, almost to a stop. he looks around at the eyes glued to their interaction, spotting a few phones pointed their way.

“yeah, my number,” he jokes, the delivery falling flat, tripping over the crack in his voice.

scara’s face twists in confusion. “what?”

“a-actually, i can’t give you that,” he stutters. “sorry. it’s just, that was scary. and i was worried and i’m still worried. like, i’m shaking,” he says, raising a hand to show scara the tremor. “but maybe that’s ‘cause you’re really, like, totally beautiful.” oh my god, shut the fuck up, he thinks to himself in a panic. “that’s not what i meant, sorry. wait, i do mean that. you are beautiful. that’s not the point, though, i wanted to make sure that… you’re okay? because if i’m like this, how do you feel? you know?”

he spoke so much for so long that, at the end of his stream of consciousness, the street somehow feels quiet despite the bustle.

with wide eyes, scara tries to placate. “i-i’m okay. thanks to you,” he offers, uncertainty dripping from the words.

“good!” he chirps, clasping his hands together. “okay, yeah. good.”

scara shies away from the superhero and his onslaught of audience attention as pedestrians rubberneck. “i’m gonna… go now,” he says, slowly backing away with another nod.

“right!” spiderman says, “yeah, be safe! safe-r, i guess…” he calls after scara as he’s swallowed by raincoats and umbrellas. stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks to himself. even superhero status can’t save the idiot he becomes in front of indigo eyes.

the small crowd descends, a courageous few opening the avenue to a few lucky celebrity selfies. ugh, he always has a hard time saying no.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #i tried to incorporate prev criticisms tbh LOL #i think i avoided using a name placeholder for reader entirely this time around #ch 3 is almost written tbh it just needs heavy editing #guys it literally gets kind of angsty #anyway i really hope you like this i spent a lot of time on it #and i would love if someone left a comment or an ask #:3 #its my first time writing scarafic in foreveeervevevrrr #as we know #tbh #the absence has been sorely felt

94 notes · View notes

blu3b1rd · 6 days

Text

Little storms edge animatic thing because I felt like it :P Imma be pretty fair, the skylanders fandom itself recently has been reallllly stressful for a number of random reasons, and i'm currently not physically well enough to constantly deal with stress, hence my extended break from really posting a lot I promise I'll be back but just leaving this here above the drawing so yall read it :)

Anyway, I'm too lazy to explain the lore behind this, the au's gone very far in the opposite of whatever canon skylanders has, uh that last parts after a time skip, thats bout it for me even trying to explain it. I dont know where the audio is from, i just kinda yoinked it from insta, so if yall want the mp3 file ill just toss it to you.

#blu3b1rd #skylanders #au #flynn #cali #both this au and my non fandom comic include a doomed romance and i think my aro brain just cant write them very well #dont worry yall hes probably fine #i try to include little doodles after dropping heavier things just cause its still skylanders and i feel a smidge awkward about it #its not an animation if i tried to animate these guys i would probably throw my cintiq into orbit after 3 frames.

35 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 3 months

Note

Hi Beans, I’m finally here. Diluting the sad with fun and very OOC.

I don’t really have a lot of ideas about what to write, but I remembered that I shared my idea of Es with the chivalrous Argenti's personality. So. AU in a vacuum (maybe an actors AU, maybe not), where Es thought that it would be funny to surprise the prisoners with the behavior of a knight(maybe Jackalope came up with that idea, maybe just strange sense of humor). What about the prisoners' reactions? (gallantry and compliments to plants attached) I think Mahiru would have joined the drive even if she didn’t really understand what happened. Fuuta would probably say "ugh, cringe" and that would make him a great target for the rest of the day.

YESS ahahaha, this is such a fun idea! I wrote a little scene with a few characters, but honestly it's hysterical picturing any of them trying to figure out how to react to this new and sparkling Es... I went for a version where not even Jackalope was prepared, but I can certainly see him suggesting something crazy like that to shake things up omg. Thank you so much for the request! The original meme was made by Mug, and I couldn't help but do a doodle myself ✨🌹

Amane was the first to witness it. She fled as soon as possible, finding sanctuary in the common room. The others were surprised as she stumbled in, face pale and eyes wide. Very little could frighten the girl; it was not a good sign.

Yuno moved to comfort her. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes went distant with the harrowing memory. “It’s Es,” was all she said.

“Did they do something cruel?”

“No. Worse.” Amane shivered. “They were… nice.”

“They were what?”

Amane opened her mouth, but paused at the sound of heels clicking down the hallway.

She stiffened. “If you need me you can find me in my cell.” She disappeared as quickly as she came. The others, who had been listening in on the odd conversation, gaped after her. They tried to piece together what had been so unsettling. Still, Es’ boots approached.

All eyes landed on the doorway.

And Es appeared. They looked very normal. Jackalope hopped up behind them. All shoulders sagged in relief. Es surveyed the room, slightly surprised to find everyone staring.

Then, they smiled.

It was a genuine, bright smile. The blue-gray of their eyes sparkled with a new light. Their lips parted to release a lighthearted laugh, unlike anything the prisoners had heard from them before.

They glided through the room, heels clicking lightly behind them until they came to Muu. The others stood frozen in place.

Es swept their cape aside with a grand flourish of their arm. They held both her hand and her gaze with warmth.

“Why, hello, Muu! You’re looking as positively lovely as always. Has this fine morning treated you well?”

“Um…” She looked to everyone, her face pleading for a little guidance. They were too busy looking eagerly to her in astonishment. “Uh… yes?”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” They reached behind themself. The room let out a soft gasp as they produced a pale pink flower from underneath their cape.

“For you, my dear.”

They didn’t wait for her to finish stuttering a confused ‘thank you’ before they turned to whoever was standing closest. Mahiru’s own face lit up as Es turned their glimmering gaze her way. Fuuta scoffed, muttering something about this being the lamest, cringiest thing he’d witnessed. Es pretended not to hear.

“Shiina Mahiru… a smile like yours is rare to find in a place like this. I thank you for it.” They pinched their chin and angled their head, thinking. “The meaning of your name has to do with light, correct?”

She nodded, unable to keep the giddiness from her face. The others watched as Es moved their glove behind once more. Surely there was no room for any more flowers hidden there…

Surely they were all mistaken – Es flicked their wrist to present a small gathering of yellow blooms.

“Something radiant for someone as bright as you.”

She fell over herself with gratitude and giggles. She tried to tuck it into her hair, and Mikoto stepped over to help her. The pair raised their eyebrows at each other in disbelief.

This time, Es retrieved their gift before turning to their next victim. A classic red rose. They caught a prisoner’s gaze.

“Oh, no. Nope. No way.” Fuuta held up his hands, as if it could ward them off. “I don’t want your stupid-ass flowers.”

“Now, now, I see you’re playing hard to get, as usual.” They brushed their thumb along the thorny stem. “You know, the rose has a very similar approach.”

Fuuta’s face now matched the flower’s color. “Wha–” He stumbled backward, then took off running to the door. “I don’t know what weird mind games you’re trying to pull, but I’m staying out of it!”

Es only clicked their tongue gently when he disappeared. “Always making things difficult, that one. All part of his charm, I suppose.”

They followed to the entrance. Turning briefly, they flashed their smile once more.“It was wonderful to see you all! I will await our next meeting eagerly.”

With a fluttery wave, they vanished.

Everyone’s attention shot to Jackalope, who had paused in the doorway. No one could understand his voice, but his little rabbit face seemed to say, Hey, don't look at me. I have no fucking idea.

#milgram #es #muu kusunoki #mahiru shiina #fuuta kajiyama #featuring others #asdfsadfs its so silly i love that for them 😂#i hope i wrote them alright -- i dont usually analyze that character type for writing too much 😅#i think yuno and muu would be suspicious at first since theyre used to fake people but would see it was all harmless and accept es' kindnes #haruka and mahiru are super flattered all the time <3 mikoto enjoys it but doesnt really take the compliments to heart #fuuta is downright disgusted but YES it makes him the biggest target 😂#shidou and kazui dont quite understand #but theyre both poetic guys and would probably nod along and muse on what es is saying about flowers and beauty #i wrote amane uncomfortable for the comedy but honestly i think shed enjoy it too after getting over her confusion #kotoko just tries to talk to es as normal #theyll give her a poetic speech complimenting her only to be met with #'yeah i know but thats not important. now as we were talking about...'#no one knows where they keep getting all these flowers from #asdfsdf the art had me cackling the whole time -- if you post yours lmk!!! it was so perfect omg #drabbles

44 notes · View notes

saeiken · 1 year

Text

based off of this incredible shot

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash trigun #my art #been watching old trigun w my sister and its rlly fun #did not expect to like it as much as i do #its so so good... vash my silly little guy <3 #started watching it bc we tried to watch stampede for cool animation but hated the writing sm lol #but old trigun is good 👍would recommend

174 notes · View notes

pe0ple3ater · 2 months

Text

Hello! As per request, here is my full analysis on Cellbit and his turn to cannibalism!

Before you read, here are some things to keep in mind!

This is only my interpretation, you're allowed to disagree. If you do, I'd really be happy if you, respectfully, added to the post! I want to hear your thoughts and analysis. Or you can DM me! Let me say it again, you will respectfully disagree with me. If you're rude, I'll ignore and or block ^^

I am just some guy, I don't have all of the answers. I'm only a casual watcher of Cellbit and only know his lore from what I've read! I may be wrong! However, I have taken a lot of time reading up on him and watching as many videos and clips as I can hehe

This dives into some heavy shit., such as Cellbit's negative feelings about himself, delusions, and unhealthy relationships. You need to be aware while reading this!

It's written a bit like a fic, because I can't help but be dramatic

Enjoy!

An exploration of Cellbit, violence, cannibalism, and love.

The first we know of Cellbit is the Hunger Games event, made canon by his conversations with Bad.

Cellbit was young, a child soldier thrown into these harsh games for the pleasure of faceless watchers because it was either die in the streets or die trying to get some quick cash and possibly win.

The whole situation is fully out of his control; this is the beginning of his spiral.

Keep in mind that he's a child. These conditions are not what he should be dealing with. His mind is forced into a survival mode where he has to do whatever he can to stay alive.

He has to kill people to survive, and then when things get bad, he has to eat people to survive. It's what he has to do. He has Bad, the first person he’s ever looked up to and has wanted to make proud, showing him how to butcher a body and what parts taste the best.

Cellbit has to do this, or he'll die.

It's out of his control.

To deal with the disgust, the fear, the self-loathing, and the trauma. His brain forces him to convince himself to like it. It's easier to enjoy the things that scare you than to be constantly disgusted and afraid by them. He convinces himself he likes it all, the blood, the killing, the cannibalism. It still makes him sick; deep down, a part of him knows he's wrong. He hates these acts and feels disgusted; he manages to drown it out with the screams of the people he has to kill.

When they win, and he looks over to see Bad smiling tiredly at him, ragged and flushed with victory and pride, it solidifies that enjoyment in his head. He won, he did everything he had to, and he feels good right now, and that means that everything he had to do to get here is good as well.

He's a child, remember that.

Next, he's in prison.

Another situation where he has no control other than what he can force himself to have.

The phone becomes a comfort, a lifeline he uses to force the people around him into respecting and fearing him.

People being scared of him feels good, incredible.

No one has ever really been afraid of Cellbit before. If they're scared of him, they can't hurt him. He learns to manipulate people, and he garners the respect and control he’s been grappling for. He becomes some twisted form of friends with Felps, someone who respects and fears and helps him. It's good, he's settled.

He keeps trying to escape because that's just another thing he can control.

Then he meets Pac, and maybe he falls in love, but at this point, he is an amalgamation of trauma and violence. He has never been in love or been loved, not by anything but the hilt of his knife. Pac is like him; he can see it in how he throws himself at situations that scare him. Cell can see the flash of interest in his eyes when they look at each other. Cell wants to have him. He makes Pac afraid of him; he controls him because if Cell can control him, maybe he can keep him. It’s what he’s learned to be true of himself.

They plan to escape, and they try to leave him alone. Cell's control on the situation slips, and he lashes out against the people trying to take it away. He feels nothing when he kills JV other than rage and his blood on his hands.

He needs to restate his control over Pac. He needs Pac to be his forever, in some way. So he eats his leg.

He likes eating people, and he likes Pac. These wires are crossed in his head. All Cell has ever known is violence; every time he's cared about someone, it's always ended in pain. He doesn't know any other way to be. He hurts Pac, and he eats his leg so that Pac will bear that mark forever. He will never exist without the mark of what Cell did to him. He will never escape from Cell’s love, and Cell will always hold that over him. It makes Cell so happy; he thinks he loves Pac, and now Pac will always know how Cell feels about him.

He kills Felps. It hurts. He doesn't want to, but he can't leave any ties to be found; if Felps hates him, it's easier.

They escape, and he gets left behind. He does what he needs to do to survive; finally, his life is his.

He gets "better," goes to therapy, and tries to fix himself. He learns that he is fundamentally wrong and that his brain doesn't work as it should. He understands that he is a monster, and Cell can't look at himself in the mirror for a long time. He stays away from people, mostly.

He goes to Quesadilla Island, and for a while, things are okay.

Pac is there; every time Cellbit looks at Pac, the broken part in him purrs and claws at his throat, and the new parts of himself he's trying to establish shrink away in disgust. He apologizes and makes promises he doesn't know he can keep. Mike glares at him, he’s always been the angry part of Tazercraft. Pac looks at him wearily, leans away when he gets too close. Yet he accepts him without much fight. Cellbit tries not to think about other times he accepted him without a fight.

Cellbit has a fragile control over his life.

He spends many days barely holding himself back from hurting Roier. He loves him, and no matter how many times Cellbit tells himself it's not true, he will always be made of violence. He forcibly files down the parts of himself that he knows hurt people. He tries so hard. He dreams of Roier under him, chest open and heart bared to him. Waking up from those dreams he’s filled with pride and love. He curls around his husband and sobs into his chest, and Roier tries to reassure him that it's okay; he knows Cellbit would never hurt him. Cellbit keeps himself on the brink of exhaustion; if he's too tired to think, he's too tired to hurt people.

He still tries not to look in the mirror.

He kills the Fed workers when the eggs go missing. He hates them. He eats at the raw flesh like he did so long ago because he needed to do this. He can't control where their children are, but he can control these worker's deaths, make a statement that he knows the Feds will see. Cell and Cellbit are not two separate people. They never have been, they are the same, and Cellbit has never felt more himself than when he ripped into those fucking bears. He goes home, cleans up the blood, vomits, and lays awake, wondering what the fuck is wrong with him.

Cellbit hates himself, Roier kisses his cheek and climbs into bed. Cellbit hates himself. He selfishly clings to Roier and lets himself be loved in a way that doesn't hurt. Cellbit hates himself. He squeezes his eyes closed and thinks about ripping into his husband the way he had those innocent workers.

Cellbit hates himself, and Roier mumbles that he loves him.

#peopleeater writes normal thing #cannibalism #cellb!t #p@c #ro!er #b@dboyh@lo #here it is!#Cellb!t and his complicated relationship with control and violence #this isn't meant to be read as “cellb!t is a control freak!”#it's meant to read as “cellb!t has never been in control and when he gets the chance he grapples for it in the only way he knows how”#he's just a little guy actually #i think reducing his character to a crazed killer is an injustice #he Tried to be better #he's just made of broken glass and shaped from shadows idk what you want me to say #I <3 you btw #please send me asks about this #cannibalism doc

23 notes · View notes

qroier · 5 months

Text

always on that stupid boat eternally on that stupid boat. aka what i imagine was roier cubito's reaction on that boat as it sped away from egg island, with some bloodhounds included for fun. full thing under read more and link to this on ao3:

Roier was still standing near the stern. He'd been there for hours. It was the same place he’d been standing at when the bomb had dropped, and he hadn't moved since. Not since the boat had started speeding away after Tubbo finally figured out how to lift the anchor, and not even since the rocky aftershocks had finally stopped churning the waves. The rest of them, the rest of them that had made it onboard, kept checking in on him, occasionally, when they could. Walking back to stand next to him as he faced the ocean and an island that could no longer be seen. Motionless. Soundless.

Bagi had tried, initially, to guide him to a seat, back when everyone else’s shock had started to set in. He had shrugged her off without a word. He’d done the same thing to anyone else’s attempts since. Etoiles softly calling out his name, saying, “Roier, bro? My friend?” had had similar results. So they left him alone, and hoped he’d resurface. A blanket that Phil had found somewhere deep in storage while trying to scrounge for supplies was draped over his shoulders like a cape and like the comfort he was refusing.

Hours more pass like that by the time a rustling arises from Roier’s corner. Most of them are asleep or at least trying to be, and the loudest sound apart from the ocean’s lapping waves hitting against the boat’s hull is the twinkling of stars overhead and occasional snores from the cabin below. The rustling jolts Etoiles from the half-doze he’d fallen under while standing guard to Roier’s left. He reaches instinctively for a sword that’s not there. Right. It’s turning to dust somewhere, back on that island, after being dropped by Phil and lost mid-flight to the boat.

There's movement. That's new. It catches Etoiles’ attention from where he notices it out of the corner of his eye, and he only barely manages to scramble fast enough to catch Roier as he crumbles.

They both hit the floor. In Etoiles’ arms, Roier shakes as his murmurs whisper “Pendejo no duro nada, nada.”

They both know the tremors are tinged with something more than heartbreak.

“Nada,” Roier repeats, picking himself up and away from Etoiles while glaring back toward the same spot of ocean he'd been looking at before. Ese culero, his eyes try to say.

He looks back down at Etoiles, still on the floor and staring up at him. A- something, drags its way across his face as he scoffs. It might be a smirk. “Man,” he calls down, “No mames. Why are you on the floor, pendejo? Are the- are the fancy boat beds not toxic enough for you? You miss the ground?”

Etoiles just looks back up at him. Okay. “Are you stupid, bro? Don't be stupid, man. I was waiting for you, pendejo,” he tells Roier, putting on a similar grin as he stands up and dusts himself off.

He shoves at Roier’s shoulders, gently, playfully, when Roier says, “Hm, no, I don't think so.”

“You don't think so? Oh, well, if you don't think so! I guess I must be a liar, then!”

Roier starts to direct them forward, as if he's the one that explored the boat instead of the one that stood at the stern, motionless, for hours. There's not a single glance back to that invisible island.

“You just don't think the beds are toxic enough. You need it more toxic? Don't be so mean or I'll cry for the beds, I swear man, I'll cry for the beds.” Neither of them comment on Roier’s desert dry eyes. How they're tinted red not with tears but from being open for so long.

The lack of direction seems to catch up to Roier, suddenly, as he stumbles while turning about to look for the cabin door. Etoiles reaches out, hand to his shoulder to steady him.

“Roier, man. You uh, you good, bro?” He asks, not removing his hand even after Roier stabilizes.

“Fuckin boats, man.” A chuckle. “I'm not a mermaid. Is Cucurucho too poor for a plane? We're so poor, man. Quesadilla Island is so poor, what the fuck.”

“Now you are the one being toxic, bro.” Etoiles says, turning them, pointing them in the direction of the cabin door and the beds underneath. He looks at Roier again. At the tightness in his shoulders. At how he's refusing to turn back toward the island. “Roier, my bro, do you want-”

“Sleep!” Roier shouts, nodding like the idea will save him. “Yes. On a not toxic bed, because man, I'm not like you. I'm not mean to the beds like you.”

They reach the cabin door a half second later and Roier pauses, hand on the door knob. The humor slides off his shoulders, and the grin drops from his face.

“Did.” The tremors are still there, hiding under his hoodie. His hand had shaken when he reached for the door. Etoiles hadn't mentioned it. “Did anyone else make it on, after?”

Etoiles looks at Roier, at the way his gaze is glued to the door knob.

“No, my friend. I was the last one on.”

“Oh. Okay. Bueno,” he says, hand and gaze still on the door. “Bueno. Pues F, no?” He chuckles again, finally dragging his attention back to Etoiles as he opens the door. The humor slinks back. “Are you gonna tryhard sleep now? Is that what you'll do, man?”

“Bro, if anyone is going to tryhard sleep, it's the Mexican beast!”

“Ah, facts, factoids. Pure fuckin facts, bro.”

Although there are enough rooms to not, they'll share a room when they make it downstairs and to the sleeping quarters. They're used to it, by now.

And they'll never talk about it. At least, they'll never talk about it for however long they're on that stupid boat.

#tried really hard to make sure it sounded like them to the point i might have overcompensated and this is approaching parody territory #so if this doesn't sound like etoiles well. pues f no? guess i'll cry #sdlfkjkd #i hope you guys like this <3 #qbloodhounds #qsmp #my writing #? i guess tag debut #speaking #roier #etoiles #posting this at 11 am was not the smartest idea on my part i will admit but i had to put it out there #posts from me for me #y yo que anon i hope you see this one day #on that stupid boat

45 notes · View notes

rosesmusicandaloeveraplants · 2 years

Text

your name in my heart

hello my followers this is something different than my usual stuff

hello souyo enjoyers i bring this offering, sorry if it ain't the best :')

read on ao3 :D

#souyo #i tried writing guys <3

11 notes · View notes

homeless202 · 6 months

Note

I’m new here and I absolutely love your type of blogs with analysis and meta and long texts~~

I was wondering—is Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship the kind that could be interpreted as romantic?

first of all, welcome and ty! and sorry it took me so long to reply, i hope u're still around anon. now to answer ur question

i'll take this opportunity to share all my thoughts on the topic bc i have Many.

TLDR: it is possible to read it as romantic if you really want to, but it's not meant to (at least not as of right now in the story aka ch.224)

deep dive under the cut as to why

-> can Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship be interpreted as romantic?

i like how you phrased that bc, the thing is, interpretation is very subjective. you're welcome and allowed to interpret things however you want, but in EY&HJ's case, i feel like you'd have to work a lil extra hard to get to that point.

-> is Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship meant to be interpreted as romantic?

this one's easy bc no. objectively Not. the genre of No Home is drama and slice of life (and once upon a time, horror). even if they were to ever end up in a romantic relationship, that's not what the story is about.

when i ask myself what the author's intention is with this story, i'd say it's to (realistically) portray how a young person with trauma would navigate another young person's trauma. and showing how easy it is to unintentionally fuck it up for various reasons: lacking context as to what exactly said trauma is, generally not knowing how to navigate it, their own trauma getting in the way, lacking the necessary resources. take your pick.

think of it like "how should i carry someone else's baggage when i have my own to deal with?" while also keeping in mind they're kids; they often don't have enough experience to know how to help, and even when they know what the right thing to do is, they're not old enough to take (legal) action.

and especially, the most heart-breaking yet realistic thing, when you're just getting to know someone, you can't know everything about them. it's so easy to accidentally do or say sth that cuts or offends when it wasn't meant to. but when they've got their own issues, it's hard not to take it personally (eg. EY talking about HJ's parents without knowing his mom died not long ago in the beginning of the story).

-> what even is Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship??

this one's so funny bc i have no idea how to answer and i'm convinced not even EY and HJ themselves would know how to answer. they're not really friends; they got off on the wrong foot and kept walking with two left feet way too much to call themselves friends. the things that pushed them together the most were the dorms (not anymore) and the same friend group (more or less since EY has multiple).

what fits them best i'd say is "the universe forced us together against our will and now we're stuck with one another altho we hate each other" (<- at least in the beginning) extended with the "misery loves company" sentiment. finding comfort in someone who gets it, even tho they only kinda get it but not really but it works out anyway except it doesn't <- THERE'S NO NAME FOR THAT *cry* they invented a new type of character dynamic smh (i've never read a pairing with so much (romantic) potential only to see them completely fuck up their chance so royally by the end of their interaction EVERY SINGLE TIME. like yeah, enemies to lovers whatever BUT NOT TO THAT LEVEL HOLY SHIT)

they've changed each other, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. they're compatible in the way they understand each other on a deeper level and incompatible in the way they don't.

...however...

this is how HJ thinks of EY: (and also what No Home is truly abt)

and this is how EY feels about HJ after EY found out HJ used to steal as well (aka that HJ isn't perfect like the stuck up bitch EY thought he was at first):

so...

<- -> EY's first impression of HJ was that he was looking down on him and sth like "does this guy have ulterior motives? or is he just that naive being so trusting?" until EY found out HJ wasn't that different from him. after that, EY started admiring HJ for still managing to achieve things in life despite the hardships he had to go through. the type of admiration that can easily (and sometimes does) slip into envy.

since the beginning, EY has helped HJ (or at least tried to) without him knowing. sometimes it worked out, sometimes not. most times EY tried doing sth nice for HJ was (from EY's perspective) in return to HJ trying to help him or doing nice things for him (which, again, sometimes worked out, sometimes not). EY was just paying back a debt to "this stubborn naive guy who keeps getting into trouble and butting into his business. gotta look out for this idiot or he might get scammed." (<- eg. when EY offered to get HJ's money back from his uncle)

he doesn't do it for credit or friendship or out of obligation, he's just doing what he thinks is the right thing bc he doesn't want to owe anyone anything. he can't accept people just genuinely being kind, genuinely caring and genuinely wanting to help. but he's been learning and slowly coming to terms with it.

<- -> HJ first wanted to try befriending EY despite not liking him bc, well, the guy did steal his wallet and stab him in their first interaction. after trying and failing at it multiple times, thanksgiving happened, and HJ started thinking of EY as his underclassman bc he realized EY's just a kid with issues and he should keep an eye on him (discretely bc EY hates pity).

with time HJ has come to understand EY better by going after him whenever he ran off and slowly realized that EY does mean well and has his reasons (as fucked up as they might be sometimes). but his mentality abt EY is still "i gotta push him in the right direction cuz he's my underclassman and i unintentionally got attached to him (somehow??)" (also bc he knows EY already gave up on himself so he needs a lil help to find his way again. also also bc he knows EY is lowkey suicidal and he's scared it'll be his fault if sth happens) <- his care for EY comes from a protective/nurturing (/possibly maybe guilty) place which started when he realized EY was just a kid^^. in other words, HJ still bothers with EY out of a subconscious sense of responsibility/obligation in a way (a good way tho. or at least a way that gets better)

see, sth i struggle with is if HJ thinks he has to or wants to or thinks he should or can't just not help/care for EY. i can't exactly pinpoint where the sentiment is coming from. his face is too blank for me to read sometimes T_T

to summarize: HJ is EY's goal, what EY wishes he could've been. and EY is HJ's 'responsibility' so to speak (bc 'burden' doesn't quite fit since HJ is there for EY willingly) -> EY has a positive opinion of HJ while HJ has a neutral opinion of EY (which is also gradually getting better)

note1: i think HJ's intention (maybe subconsciously) was to be to EY what HJ's upperclassman was to him. aka someone who's there when you need it and can help guide you. it would explain why HJ kept chasing after EY despite not really having a reason to and EY repeatedly rejecting HJ's care/help.

note2: i also believe the 'upper-under-classman' relationship dynamic fits them the best atm bc it also matches the way the story often singles EY out as he's the only second year (aka younger) of the 6 MCs.

-> Romance in No Home?

another thing i should mention is that No Home rarely leaves things open for interpretation. the deepest arguments EY&HJ had were always spelled out for us, to make us understand exactly what the problem was, and how there isn't a good guy and a bad guy. it's just two people with issuesTM.

from what we've seen in the story up to this point, i couldn't pick out a moment where i'd go "here! that's romantic! that's the moment they realized SomeThing!" yk

when it comes to romance specifically, i feel like a handful of opportunities were missed. there are scenes which could've easily been written trough a rosy lens but simply weren't.

exhibit A:

HJ was speechless bc "wow this mf really is actively picking a fight with an authority figure. i gotta make sure things don't escalate" not bc "hoLY sHiT hE's PreTTy. all his fangirls are on to something". however, this only becomes more clear when you keep reading the next few chapters, so i understand how you could interpret it as the latter.

exhibit B:

here they got so close and the moment was so deep bc "woaa he said he believes me. no one's said to me that before!". unfortunately, EY was panicking too much for it to mean something bc of the guilt he felt for HJ trusting someone so undeserving of trust like EY.

exhibit C:

this is maybe the closest we got to romantic between these two. i think this might be the only (or at least first) ever deep interaction between them that didn't end in a fight or misunderstanding. is it meant to be romantic tho? -> ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-> what do i think?

first, full transparency: i went into reading this story fully expecting it to be a BL and for EY&HJ to end up together. but the more i kept on reading, the more i got the ick thinking about them being in a (romantic) relationship bc, at least from what we've seen so far in the story, their relationship would be so ToxicTM (which i personally don't enjoy reading).

as they are right now, i wouldn't want them to be together like that. like, honestly, you still can't really consider these two even friends; they just tolerate each other if the stars align correctly (altho, i'll admit, their relationship is gradually getting better!!). every big argument they had i thought "god, there's no coming back from that. i'd cut ties so quickly if was them wtf". i still don't know how they managed to keep on interacting, props to them ig.

there's a lot of unresolved issues between them. and a lot of resentment which would not bode well in a romantic relationship. the smallest argument would turn explosive and they'd be, at best, in an on&off type of relationship. they both have the power to break the other and neither would be afraid to use it. they have a lot of history together, which is not always pleasant, so if they ever were to go the romantic route, it would have to be a long way to go.

technically, i could see them in a romantic relationship if they both went to therapy first and talked out all the baggage they're carrying (both individual and shared). realistically tho, what i think will happen at the end of No Home is that either they never cross paths again after high school ends (which would absolutely break my heart Wanan pls don't), or they somehow (unintentionally) end up living together bc they both desperately needed a roommate to pay rent (which would be a hilarious fucking gag LMAO). just, HJ going to uni/work and EY doing his own thing (prolly an actor) while still cohabiting together; hanging out to watch a movie before bed <- (whether platonic or romantic being left up for interpretation)

<- -> in conclusion, from what we've seen up to this point, their relationship is mainly upper-under-classman; reluctant (maybe) friends who tolerate each other but also care (too) deeply. they've changed each other, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. in some ways they're compatible and in others they're not.

all this being said, their relationship is improving and romance between EY&HJ is not impossible, just rather unlikely imo. but, again, interpretation is subjective and u're welcome to read their relationship however you want.

#ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE IF YOU ARE DELULU ENOUGH!! THAT'S HOW SHIPPING WORKS IN GENERAL. IN EVERY FANDOM.#anon. this shit fried my head. it 3.30am and my brain is not braining anymore. i love analyzing these two but goddamn is it HARD.#THERE'S SO MUCH NUANCE TO EVERY INTERACTION THEY HAVE *cry*#life's been hectic and this question demanded i sit down in 7 different sittings to get everything written down. hence why it took me a bit #i tried to write down all my thoughts and i don't think i managed. but i hope what i have here makes sense.#and i also hope i actually answered ur question. i feel like i got side-tracked and possibly missed the target.#no home #no home manhwa #eunyung baek #haejoon goh #ey hj parallels #meta #집이 없어 #webtoon #god u guys have no idea how many times while reading i was like 'omg they're gonna kiss omg pls do'#only to keep reading and going like 'hoLY FUCK PLS DO *NOT*!! get away from him omfg!!'#the whiplash was fucking unreal. i remember honest to god SOBBING at 4am every time they fought <- that first time read was rough #also! if you agree/disagree/want to correct me or just talk about the topic i'm open to discussion/criticism. (just pls be nice abt it ><)#my ask box is open <3

50 notes · View notes

mr-stottlemonk · 1 month

Text

made a timeline for monk tv for the folks cause it makes no sense sometimes.

[more in the tags]

[update: stottlemeyer's timeline found here]

#tried my best #math really churned itself out here #fic writing resources ahoy #feel free to use <3 #monk 2002 #monk 2002 timeline #this only counts adrian's age #i got tired of plotting a fic and going “errr wait when does this happen and does this thing im mentioning fit with this period of time???”#esp now that im going crazy about pre-series monk ideas #monk wiki says stottlemeyer is 17 YEARS OLDER THAN MONK #im just??? wot???#how can... that makes no sense. how can stottlemeyer be 81 and the head of security for some rich ass guy in mr. monk's last case? it dont #add up at all. ive always headcanoned that stottlemeyer is like 6-9 years older than monk #what were the writers thinking these ages are wacky #trudy is 4 years younger than monk too.#if we follow how she died when she was 34 #and theyd been married for 7 years... that makes her 27 but like. they met in uni. what age were they then???#monk def had to be 23-24 when he met trudy. which makes her 20 :“)#its whack man. making sense of this makes my head hurt #anyway im here to stop all that suffering #here we go #A BETTER TIMELINE #ill update with stottlemeyer's own age timeline soon :>

14 notes · View notes

liquidstar · 1 month

Text

a friend who'd wait :)

#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol #finn's ocs #finn's art #i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me #and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun #i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past #he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it #he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned #which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them #they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore #but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird #and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place #though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library #and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together #since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door #eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement #barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate #but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd #he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself #but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov #sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3 #but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh

18 notes · View notes

another-clive-blog · 3 months

Note

I know that I already sent an ask earlier but I haven't decided on a request then. I have an request of a fanfic being about Clive and co hanging out at the bookstore. Like maybe Clive and Luke are looking at some puzzle books together as a way to see who could solve the most.

Thank you so much !! That's such a great idea too !!! The siblings ever ;^;

Alright so this one is longer than usual ! It starts with light-hearted fun, then gets a bit angsty, and then a bit fluffy at the very end. Featuring Clive, Luke and Flora having a puzzle competition and talking a bit about emotions !! (Yes Clive does try. He's less mean here than I usually write him ahah)

It takes place at the library in Chinatown. Layton, Clive, Flora and Luke take a break there before heading to the towering pagoda =)

"This has been nice, but we should go back to our investigation now," Big Luke said politely, although these distractions were starting to be quite the bother. Could you blame him ? All of them were wasting precious time with people and activities that didn't matter, unlike his plan- which was exactly why they should focus on the investigation and quit running around in that stupid library.

"Stop being such a partypooper," Little Luke pouted, "you're giving me a bad name."

Big Luke almost choked. A partypooper ? Him ?? "I beg your pardon ?"

"Well, you're me." Little Luke explained, as if this was somehow the concept Big Luke was failing to grasp.

"That's not-"

"Which means," Little Luke added with a smile, "that I know you love libraries. Because I do ! And the professor said that we could stay here for a few more minutes, so we should take a look and have fun !"

Of course the professor had said so. He was probably busy borrowing hundreds of books he would never be able to return.

Apparently, Little Luke had decided to be annoying today. "Well, that's what I'm gonna do anyway. If you want to stop looking so miserable, you can always join me." He didn't wait for an answer, quickly leaving with a wide grin.

"Wh- miserable ?!" Big Luke- scratch that, Clive was offended. He was not miserable : he was just... standing right outside the store. With his arms crossed. And a frown on his face.

Because they were all annoying !! Not because he was a partypooper. And he would prove it to that brat ! "Alright, you asked for it. Hey Little Luke, I have a fun idea !"

Luke's face brightened with joy when he saw his future self join him among the rows of books. "Yeah ? What is it !"

Oh, Clive would absolutely wipe that excited smile off his face. "Let's see if we can find a book about puzzles. Maybe we could have a competition !"

Luke was practically jumping up and down now. "I'll look in this pile of books !!" He said before immediately diving in.

Wow, the kid was... really into puzzles, uh ? And here Clive thought that he was following the professor around solely for the title of apprentice : maybe there was more to it than a kid trying to feel important.

It- eh, it didn't matter. He was absolutely going to beat the brat at his own game.

Big Luke started looking among the books right in front of him. He didn't know any of these books- he didn't even know if there was a book about puzzles here. He had only supervised the city's construction : he had asked for a library, not what was inside. Who had decided on that ? Dimitri ? The books were mostly about science, so Dimitri probably had-

"What are you looking for ?"

Big Luke almost screamed, but he didn't. He was a twenty three-year-old man, a criminal, a gentleman, and most importantly- he was in a library. "Can't you keep your voice down and behave a little ?!"

Flora giggled. "Oh, I'm sorry. It was just too tempting, but you're right. I shouldn't have surprised you like that."

Clive took a deep breath and pushed away the seven first replies that came to mind. "No, it's quite alright. I'm sorry too. What was your question ?" Big Luke asked with a barely strained smile. Why were they all testing his patience today ? They -purposefully ?- made it incredibly hard to keep up the act.

"It's fine !" Flora smiled. "I was wondering what you were doing. Little Luke seemed very excited, and he only ever acts like this when the professor gives him an especially difficult puzzle."

He... did ? "Uh. We were- we were looking for a book about puzzles. To have a puzzle competition." Big Luke stammered like an idiot. Very uncharacteristic, she was definitely about to call out his bluff now.

"Really ?! Can I join you two ?" Flora's voice was maybe a bit loud, but Clive decided to let it go.

Big Luke smiled serenely. "Sure, why not ! But we have to find that book first."

Flora enthusiastically nodded, a delighted smile on her lips. "I'll go look this way !!" And with that, she left a confused Big Luke behind.

Alright, that was... weird. Either these kids loved puzzles to a concerning amount, or... or what ?

Maybe this was a trap. They were trying to get him to slip up, reveal too much by acting so weird around him. Maybe they were glad he gave them a way to figure out if he really was Luke, because there was no way these kids weren't going to beat him- they were basically fed puzzles since birth. He was going to get absolutely destroyed.

Well, it was too late to back down now. All he could do was try his best at the puzzles and not act suspicious : and if this whole thing turned sour, he could always escape and get to the mecha first. He knew this town better than they did, knew all of its secrets.

Alright, alright, get it together. It didn't have to come to that. Maybe they wouldn't find the book before the break was over. Maybe there wasn't even a book to start with-

"I found it !" Luke yelled from the other side of the story and quickly apologized when gently hushed by Layton, busy reading a huge encyclopedia.

Oh, great.

-_-_-_-

"Yes ! Another win for me !!" Flora celebrated, and Luke shot her a nasty look, trying his hardest not to pout. With this victory, Flora and Little Luke were back to a tie.

And Big Luke was one puzzle behind.

It wasn't catastrophic. His opponents had far more experience and the greatest mentor anyone could have asked for, while Clive had none of that. He was doing pretty well, given the context.

But he needed to do better.

"Alright, that was well played," Little Luke finally smiled. Flora's joy was contagious, and he was having fun anyway. This puzzle competition was a great idea !

"Thank you," Flora said before turning to Big Luke with a grin. "Your turn !! Here is your puzzle, Big Luke..."

Clive frowned, staring at the page. It wasn't an easy one- of course it wasn't. They had deliberately chosen the hardest section of the book, these little brats. 'So that we get a bit of a challenge,' according to them.

Clive was already dealing with far too many challenges- for example, him pretending to be Big Luke. That one was going just great. What were they going to think, if he couldn't solve that puzzle ?

Because he couldn't, despite how much he tried. None of his attempts worked, none of the hints helped. He was going to fail. What should he do now ? Maybe-

Little Luke and Flora shared a concerned glance, before Luke suddenly closed the book.

Big Luke startled, looking at him in confusion. "I wasn't done," he pointed out.

Little Luke didn't say anything, only avoiding his gaze, so Flora did. "You're not having fun," she simply explained.

"What ?" Oh, he was done for. Luke loved puzzles, Luke wouldn't stop a puzzle competition because he wasn't having fun. "Of course I am. I-"

Flora held her hands up, interrupting him. "It's fine ! With Luke, we thought that... erm..."

"You're really struggling," Luke finished. "...It's because of the Professor of the future, isn't it ? You don't like puzzles anymore."

Clive just stared.

"It's hard not to notice differences between you and Little Luke," Flora gently explained. "But you seem... less enthusiastic. About puzzles. And... us, too. So we thought..." She got quieter and quieter, before she stopped speaking entirely.

Something finally clicked in Clive's mind. "Oh no- no no no ! It's not- I'm not- It's okay."

"Is it ?" Little Luke asked in a small voice. "You don't look okay."

"Things have been-"

"Are you okay ?"

Clive fell silent. Why were they asking him that ? They truly believed he was Big Luke, which meant that he didn't matter to them. The narrative here was that they were trying to keep this future from worsening and then they would go back to their own time. Big Luke was supposed to disappear, one way or another.

Maybe... maybe that's what scared them. The idea that things would disappear, that change was unavoidable- that familiar and pleasant things would become a source of pain. It was- it was a lot for a child, Clive realized.

He remembered things being a lot as a child.

"You will be," Clive gently told him.

"You didn't answer," Flora pointed out. Now that he really looked for it, Clive noticed that she sounded quite unhappy too.

They really were worried and scared.

Clive didn't know how to handle this. He wasn't really big on emotions and feelings or whatever, and why would he be ? It's not like stupid Dimitri and him would talk about their lives around a nice cup of tea.

But he couldn't just brush them off. "Listen," he sighed, "I don't know. Things are a bit crazy right now, so it's hard to say. We'll know in a few hours, I guess."

The kids still looked sad, but nodded nonetheless. Great, so his job was done. "How are you two doing ?" Clive asked, for some reason, although he had decided he was done.

Probably to make his whole Big Luke lie more believable.

"I'm... a bit scared," Flora admitted. "Well, not scared- I know the professor will fix everything. But things here are still... concerning. And sad."

Clive nodded before staring at Little Luke : the latter kept his head down. "I'm not scared. We're going to fix everything here."

Well, that sure sounded familiar.

He was supposed to answer, wasn't he ? What would someone who wasn't him say ? "It's... okay to be scared. It's a lot to deal with, and no one expects you to fix it all on your own," Clive said. Constance... used to tell him that. Why was he only remembering these words now ? "But whatever happens, you'll be okay. My life kinda sucks, but yours don't have to. Change the things you can change, learn from people's mistakes, talk to others, I don't know. Just don't let it end that way." Well, that part was not Constance's.

Flora laughed. "You're still very bad at comforting people."

"Hey !"

Clive smiled. "Some things never change."

"I'm very good at comforting people !" Little Luke protested. "I can prove it ! Bring me someone who's feeling bad !!"

"I'm good," Flora said, and she sounded genuinely happier.

"Well, Big Luke ?" Little Luke stared at him. "You did say that your life... uh..."

Clive scoffed. "I'm not asking a 13 years old for advice."

"You're just scared I'll be better than you, again," Little Luke smirked.

Clive crossed his arms, mocking his friend. "No, I'm not. And you know what ? Let's redo this puzzle competition. I'm going to beat you this time."

Flora hesitated. "Are you sure ? The professor-"

"The professor is busy," Clive replied. "What, are you two scared of losing ? That's pathetic, truly-"

Little Luke was already opening the book, looking for a new puzzle. "Alright, but you asked for it. If the professor wants to ground someone, I'm not the one who started this thing." He seemed even more excited than the first time.

"This is so much fun !!" Flora clapped her hands, waiting for the first puzzle.

Surprisingly, Clive found himself agreeing with her.

#Two overwhelmed kids and a traumatized guy walk into a library-#Anyway here you go !! =) I believe you wanted fluff so I tried to do mostly that. But in case there's also angst #I think there is much more to explore about their relationship. Especially the whole Little Luke and Big Luke deal. Lots of potential #I should try to do more stuff about them. I know I want to do more stuff about Clive and everyone but like. Clive and Luke. The brothers <3 #clive dove #luke triton #flora reinhold #professor layton and the unwound future #professor layton and the lost future #unwound future spoilers #lost future spoilers #My writing #Ask

12 notes · View notes