march 7th truly needs a fully fleshed out story arc and everything, a 5-star form of her tew!!! truly the xianzhou arc felt so badly paced bc of all the exposition nd lore for dan heng but it all lead to a whole bunch of nothin..... could've spent that time with the more interesting characters like jing yuan, fu xuan, yukong, idk the list goes on
i need 50 in depth march 7th back story quests right fucking now with a different little outfit to go with each one like what the fuck does dan heng but stand there? the trailblazer has more character and they literally do not speak. xianzhou arc is literally so full of cool shit but every section with dan heng as the lead is soooooo boring like the trail blazer is already the blank silent protag that had their memory wiped and THUSLY is the viewpoint of the audience so why the sections with dan heng? we just walk around talking to infinitely more interesting characters as he says 'im not dan feng' and in the flash backs dan feng looks boring as hell too like wtf.
got me running around with this boring ass green man while blade is begging for jingliu to try and kill him and it's so interesting but we only get snippets presented in the most boring way 😭😭😭😭😭 i literally roll my eyes whenever i take a xianzhou quest and i see that the focus is dan heng. even as a broody man lover (blade baby ilu prostate orgasms can fix mara >.<) im not compelled by dan heng. he has no other side to him like he literally does nothing im sick of looking at him all the goddamn time like everyone else is so much more fun. i LOVED the quest with yanqing and jingliu bc he was nawt feeling her shit and there was PERSONALITY. yukongs companion quest was fucking amazingggggggg like i felt EMOTIONS. why the hell did we see bailu for 2 minutes in the arc but we got like 60 of dan heng following behind that blonde bitch thinking he shouldn't but still walking? dan heng is a walking piece of cardboard that would not shut up abt his past just for it to mean nothing like throw his ass in prison see if i gaf
THE FOCUS SHOULD BE ON MARCH 7TH
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Taking the current topic as an excuse to ask you to tell me all the reasons you love Rarijack. Your art for the ship is so sweet and intimate I'd love to hear any in depth thoughts you have.
Breathes in.
I think what makes their dynamic really strong is that they have opposing personalities but aligned values. It's deeper than just "opposites attract." Rarity's fancy, prissy, and femme while Applejack's modest, rough, and "masculine." But both value hard work (to the point of being workaholics), their families (both have guardianship over their little sisters), running successful businesses, and eventually each other. Their relationship can be boiled down to, "Despite our differences/disagreements, I still like you because we value the same things."
We see their relationship develop so much. In the first season, they can't stop bickering about surface-level differences. By season four, they still bicker, but will mend their relationship because they can't help but do nice things for each other. In Trade Ya, they start off arguing over personality differences (Applejack likes old junk and Rarity likes useless crap). Then they pivot and start arguing that they value their relationship more than the other. In the end, they mend things by sacrificing their needs and buying each other a gift. Even if they don't understand it, they know it'd make the other happy. And that's all that really matters. It's a genuinely sweet moment that shows how arguing can be healthy and necessary for relationships to strengthen.
We even see them dropping their hang-ups about each others' personalities. In Made in Manehattan, when Rarity runs off in dramatics about someone's fashion, AJ doesn't roll her eyes or scoff, she smiles. Oftentimes, their conflicts are very common domestic conflicts romantic couples face. Applejack's Day Off is about a woman's inability to balance work and life and find time to properly spend with her partner, causing her partner to feel neglected.
By season seven, they're actively participating in each others' interests. Any problems or conflicts that arise are dealt with, and they come out the other end stronger and closer. In Honest Apple, AJ pretty much spells out why their relationship works so well: even though she doesn't understand fashion, she can recognize and appreciate how much work it takes and wants to respect that. When she realizes her mistake in the episode, AJ goes above and beyond to fix things and apologize to Rarity. They care about each other so much.
The two go out of their way, sacrificing their personal desires and beliefs and doing things they normally wouldn't, to make the other happy. That's just love.
There's Simple Ways, where AJ gets stuck in an unwanted love triangle between Rarity and her hipster crush. And her frustration and anger can be so easily interpreted as AJ finding herself in a terrible position; the girl she loves wants another man, and that man wants her.
I dunno. I've always had a preference for opposites attract ships, but Rarijack's stuck with me like a brain worm because they have the perfect chemistry. The way they show they care, or do things for each other, I've always read it as the truest representation of romance in the show.
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Prompt 204
Danny is on a bit of a roadtrip. An accidental roadtrip and might be getting chased by some sort of assassins or whatever they were. Look, it’s not his fault, he was injured and out of it! How was he supposed to know that the Pits or whatever the people were yelling about were important. Or sapient.
Actually, he should like… “How do you even know how to drive if you’re like, thousands of years old??” That was not what he was going to ask his current roadtrip buddy, but maybe he had a concussion.
Ectoplasm-green eyes turned towards him from the road, framed by a mixture of black and white hair that shifted like his own. “You most likely don’t want to know the answer to that, actually.” Okay, but what if he did, huh?
“Okay, but where are we going, because I don’t think this is my dimension…”
They shrugged, their clothing shifting with the motion. Ha, ninja clothing for a sapient pool of ecto, or whatever it had been. “I am, not exactly familiar to things that were not known to those thrown into my blood, so we’re, I believe the saying is going in blind?”
“Oh. Okay. Y’know you’re kind of nice for an ecto-death pit thing.”
“... I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that, child.”
“Okay. I’m going to go to sleep because my head hurts.”
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How would Farmer Sans handle hearing that MC was sick? Maybe they usually meet up a certain time while managing their morning chores and they’re just.. not there, only for him to later find that they’re bedridden
"hey, pumpkin."
The sound of Sans' voice, regardless of how soft it was, made you panic.
You sat bolt upright from your spot curled into the couch, jolting out of your strange fever dream. A cooling pack fell off your head, and a blanket you didn’t remember grabbing slipped from your shoulders to your lap.
Immediately, you could tell that you weren’t on your home couch. You didn’t recognise the blanket someone had tucked you under. You weren’t cold, you couldn’t smell the usual mix of dust and gradually fading damp - in fact, there were many wonderful scents mingling in the warm air, soup and tea and a sweet bread aroma that made your stomach rumble.
It certainly wasn’t where you expected to wake up, after you fell asleep in front of the dodgy TV once the painkillers finally kicked in. This was someone else’s couch. And after a few bleary moments, you recognised it all.
... It was Sans’ couch. You were in his house.
You looked up a little to see the man himself, as handsome as ever, leaning over the back of the sofa and looking at you. A gentle flicker of relief passed over his face.
“rise and shine,” he said, voice as warm as the room. “how’re you feelin’?”
Huh?
...
Your eyes widened. "S-Sans!?"
Bad decision. At such a sudden vocalisation, your body decided that was the perfect moment to send you into a horrendous coughing fit that made the inside of your throat feel like someone had gone at it with sandpaper.
Sans just put a big gentle hand on your back, letting you work through it, quiet as you hacked your lungs up.
Eventually the coughing eased off; once you had control of your body again, you turned your gaze back to him.
"Y-you...” Your cheeks were starting to burn. “why am I...?"
“you weren’t answerin’ the phone. i got worried.” As he spoke, you kept messing with your shirt, nervously pulling it down over yourself. “came to check on you, an’ you were totally out of it, could barely answer me. i had to go work, but figured i should bring you somewhere me an’ pap can keep an eye on you.”
... Oh no. You put your hands over your face, slowly getting quieter and quieter as the situation dawned on you. “Y-you really didn’t need to...”
“course we did. ain’t safe for you to be so sick all on yer own.”
This was a nightmare. Now, on top of being sick, you were absolutely mortified at Sans seeing you in this state. Tired, achy, sweaty... you were dressed in a stained old shirt and pyjama pants, visibly unshowered and pretty much as ungroomed as one could get. You distinctly remembered throwing stuff on your floor before you fell asleep, too weak to get up and go put it in the garbage - empty blister packs and used, crumpled tissues. Did he see all your dirty trash when he came to find you?
You wanted to melt into the couch. He had seen you delirious and ill, at your absolute greasiest and grossest. Stars, what did he think of you now?
“I-I’ve been out for hours?” you asked.
“mhm.”
Your whole world was coming down around your ears. Why couldn’t Sans have just let you die at home, where no one would see your shame?
“you didn't tell me you were sick,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear. There was a strangely... sullen edge to his tone?
Your face was on fire. You had already intruded so much on him and his brother’s kindness over the last few weeks. Sans had repaired your stove and water pipes, bought you fresh food from the farm, helped fix a leak in the roof, not to mention when you asked him to stay the night like you were a frightened baby. Now here you were; being sick and disgusting right in the middle of his house.
Before he could say anything else, you pushed the blanket off you, swinging your legs over the side of the couch and scrambling to your feet.
“I-I should get home,” you said, hoarse.
Immediately, Sans’ brows raised. You didn't look at him for long, walking unsteadily and trying your best to concentrate on not tipping over.
“I’m so sorry to intrude. I’ll just-”
... Your feet went out from underneath you.
You squeaked, loudly - but Sans didn’t care, he scooped you up like you didn’t weigh a thing. To him, you probably didn’t weigh a thing. You could feel his massive strength through his clothes, and you immediately knew that if he wanted to, he could’ve thrown you straight into the air like a child.
You couldn’t tell if it was the height that was dizzying, how close your face was to his, or if you were just way weaker right now than you realised. But immediately your hands balled in his shirt.
"... easy," he murmured, one arm under your thighs. "i don't bite."
... Your face filled with so much heat it felt as if the tips of your ears were going to set alight. You tried to say something, but when you opened your mouth, literally nothing came out. Not a sound. All you could do was hold on to his shoulders.
Sans’ voice became normal again, jokingly stern. “sorry. not goin’ anywhere on my watch, pet. you need to rest. look at you - yer burnin' up.”
Your whole body had tensed up. But not out of fear. You just stared into his eyelights.
He very gently sat you back down onto the couch, putting the cold pack into your hands. “you stay right there, ok? i’ll getcha some soup. it should be ready by now.”
"O-ok," you helplessly replied.
Sans moved away, disappearing into the kitchen.
...
There wasn't much else you could do, but lay down and put the cooling pack back on your head... trying to figure out how to make your heart slow down.
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