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alienzil · 7 months

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DP x DC Prompt/notion # 4

So Danny has the classic reveal gone bad scenario and the Fentons try to capture him to "tear him apart molecule by molecule".

Danny escapes into the ghost zone with the help of Sam, Tucker and Jazz but he's in bad shape.

What Danny had never been told is that newly formed ghosts like himself are considered babies until they're at least a century old. Baby ghosts generally either have parents if they're born in the realms or get adoptive parents shortly after forming and are highly dependent on their guardians until their core is fully matured. Every ghost can sense a baby and has the instinctual urge to protect them (especially if they haven't been adopted yet). Every baby ghost has the instinctual urge to find a compatible parent or parents. A baby won't imprint on just anyone and will hide or run from most ghosts until they find one that they can imprint on. The majority of the ghosts that have met Danny never knew he was a baby, both because he already had his living parents and his emotional connection with them was close enough to satisfy his ghostly need for a parental bond and because, with his abnormally high power level, it never would have occurred to them to think he might be an infant. A newborn ancient is exceptionally rare and your average denizen of the realms will have never seen one. Basically, to your average ghost, Danny feels like he's eons old and any hint of "baby" they get from him mostly just ticks them off because they think he's mocking them and pretending to be less powerful than they know he is. The other ancients knew of course, but they also knew that Danny's human guardians were satisfying his needs for now and most assumed he would be adopted once they passed. Half a century or so isn't very long to wait after all and the new baby is half human so it's probably best to let these things happen naturally.

Knowing none of this, when Jack and Maddie rejected Danny it severed their connection and the backlash of losing that bond caused his Phantom self to naturally revert to a smaller form that more closely matched his actual age as a ghost. Still in shock and operating almost entirely on instinct and emotion, Danny started to search the Realms for what he had lost. He needed to find his parents.

*****

Meanwhile, John Constantine had a problem with an upstart cult that had summoned an interdimensional...something. He really didn't care. Whatever it was, was behind a barrier they'd thrown up that he couldn't breach. He'd be perfectly willing to leave them to their own mess except their whole damn town was behind the barrier so now it was his problem to fix.

Interdimensional problems call for interdimensional solutions so he'd called Bob. Bob wasn't really his name (nor was he really a he) but he hadn't objected to the moniker or the pronouns John had given him so Bob it was. Bob was an eldritch nightmare of a creature who kept the bulk of his true form politely out of this dimension and only just barely inched in for a quick visit every 20 years or so. Constantine had worked with him before, he was a pretty nice bloke for an unknowable monstrosity.

Bob fed on energy and his usual diet consisted largely of the background energy of the cosmos but he liked a special treat now and then (who doesn't?). So John made a deal with him. Bob took care of his little cult problem and John spent a very... ahem... "energetic" evening with Bob in exchange. Not really a hardship on John's part, Bob wanted more energy, not less, and knew a thing or two about how to get it.

*****

The creature known as Bob was preparing to withdraw the small portion of his presence that was currently on Earth with the human called John Constantine when another part of him noticed something. Bob smiled to himself (as much as Bob could smile that is). What a wonderful coincidence that the Constantine human's energy would be so perfectly matched to this other beings and that Bob was here at the exact right moment to assist with their meeting!

"I thank you again for sharing your energy John Constantine. It was delicious as always."

"Don't mention it mate. Look me up next you're in town and feeling a bit peckish. Always happy to oblige." John replied with a smirk.

"I will heed your words John Constantine and seek your presence upon my return. As a token of my affection for you, a small gift that you might enjoy until we meet again." Bob briefly opened a portal between the Infinite Realms and the House of Mystery as he left. He hoped his human friend would enjoy the gift. Bob had never spawned himself but he'd heard parenthood was one of life's great joys.

"Gift?" John had just enough time to say as he was hit in the face by a chirping, wriggling, excited creature.

"Oi!" John stumbled back a step as he reached up to try and pry the thing off his face. He managed to grab ahold of the damn beast and held it out at an arms length to get a look at it. Deprived of his face, it wrapped its body tightly around his arm and nuzzled its head into the palm of his hand.

John stared at the creature. It was the roughly the length of his arm, mostly black with white markings and white floating hair on a human shaped head and face, complete with glowing green eyes. It was vaguely snake shaped...or... one might say...tentacle shaped...

John gulped and pictured Bob. Bob's appearance, or what little bit of his appearance John was able to perceive, was a writhing mass of black tentacles that glowed a bright, luminous green.

So, the "gift" Bob had left him mostly had Bob's coloring and was kinda Bob shaped. Except it had small human arms and hands and a tiny mostly human head and face and... was that his nose?!

"Oh bollocks, I'm a dad!"

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #John Constantine is Danny's dad #Except he actually isn't #Except he really is now since Danny imprinted on him #Little baby man #Bob the eldritch entity #Prompt/notion

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solarmorrigan · 11 months

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You know how cats seem to have an innate sense of when you’re about to get up, and they choose that exact moment to sit down on your lap? And no sooner have they made themselves comfortable than you realize that you have to go to the bathroom, or someone calls you over, or the phone starts ringing, and you have to shove the poor cat off your lap?

That’s basically Eddie’s sex life right now.

Well alright, no, not entirely, but – it’s a component that’s certainly starting to become an irritation.

It’s just that Steve has a wonderful lap.

At least, Eddie assumes it’s wonderful. It’s wonderfully inviting, at the very least; it’s wide enough to offer Eddie (who is not quite as generously endowed in the whole… thighs-ass department, he’ll admit) a good seat, and he’s had his hands on the area often enough to know it’s firm but with just the right amount of give to be very comfortable.

But Eddie’s never actually gotten to spend much time on it.

He doesn’t even mean that in a sexual way (although that much is also true). Every time he’s so much as tried to plop himself down on Steve’s lap to do something as innocent as watch a movie, Steve seems to remember something he needs to get up and do within just a few minutes.

For a little while, Eddie had been worried about what that meant. Did Steve not want to spend time with him? Did Steve not want Eddie near him? Did Steve not find him attractive? Did Steve just find him annoying?

But further time spent together has given Eddie more confidence. Clearly Steve enjoys spending time with him—submits to it willingly and often—and does find Eddie annoying but in a way he enjoys. Steve also most definitely finds Eddie attractive (and, in fact, has no trouble at all spending extended time on Eddie’s lap). So at this point, it’s more of a puzzle. A frustration.

It can’t be that Eddie’s too heavy for him; Eddie isn’t a small guy, really, but he isn’t huge, either. He’s seen Steve push and pull bigger people around – hell, he’s seen Steve carry Mike a good ways through the woods and back to the car after the kid had slipped and twisted his ankle when they’d been out walking (an incident which none of them are allowed to speak of ever, for varying reasons of blackmail and dignity), and he’s not too much smaller than Eddie.

Eddie is nothing if not a direct sort of guy, though – if he’s thinking something, he’s going to say it. This is mostly because he has very little brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s learned to make it part of his image. He’s pretty sure it works for him.

All of this to say that one afternoon, as they make out on Steve’s couch, Eddie freshly settled on Steve’s lap, Eddie decides to just… ask.

He waits until he can feel Steve’s hands sliding down around his thighs—not groping, but with the intent to move him—before he pulls back to say anything.

“Hey,” he says—gasps, really, still a little breathless with his attempt to seize the opportunity, “question.”

Steve blinks up at him, startled. “Uh. Shoot.”

“Do you not like it, when I sit on your lap? Because it kinda seems like you find other places to be when I try to make that happen.”

If Steve had been startled before, that’s nothing on how he looks now. He covers it in an instant, but Eddie’s seen it; Steve’s good, he’s very good, but Eddie is literally right in his face.

“What?” Steve pulls back, brows drawn in confusion. “No. Why would I have a problem with you being in my lap?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not a damn clue. That’s why I figured I’d ask. It’s just that whenever I get myself settled here, you suddenly remember you have to get up.”

“I don’t do that,” Steve scoffs, throwing in a good-natured eye roll.

“You kinda do, babe,” Eddie says, keeping it light; this isn’t an argument, nor an accusation – it’s literally just a question, and he doesn’t want to scare Steve off.

“So you’re saying, that every time I have my boyfriend on my lap – a guy I find insanely hot, by the way,” Steve’s hand slide back up Eddie’s thighs, edging towards his ass, and this time he’s groping, “you’re saying I don’t want him there, is that right?”

Eddie’s resolve almost breaks as Steve stares up at him with his ridiculous, pretty eyes (he’s good, he’s very good, Eddie will give him that) and tugs him closer with his ridiculous, strong hands, but he knows Steve is lying. He knows it.

He just doesn’t know why.

And isn’t that interesting? Eddie wouldn’t exactly call Steve an open book, but they know each other pretty well by now; Eddie can usually read Steve, but he has no idea what he’s thinking just at the moment.

So he decides to allow it.

He’ll see where it goes.

“Hm,” Eddie hums, as if he’s thinking. “That does sound a little silly, if you put it like that.”

“Completely silly.” Steve grins up at him, but there’s a thread of very genuine sincerity in what he says next. “Of course I want you here.”

And Eddie’s not sure what to say to that, so he leans back in to kiss Steve again.

And for a while, it’s fine. Great, even. Steve is a very good kisser, after all, and Eddie likes to think he’s no slouch himself, and a good time is being had by all, except before too long Eddie can feel Steve starting to tense up under him.

Once again, Eddie doesn’t mean this in a sexual way.

It’s not the fun, anticipatory kind of tensing, but the ready to run or punch something kind of tensing. The kind of tension that comes from a threat, not from having your boyfriend on your lap.

Eddie waits to see if Steve will do anything, say anything, but he does nothing. His kisses grow more distracted, quicker and shallower, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push Eddie away.

It’s when Steve starts shaking that Eddie gives up.

“Okay,” Eddie pulls away, shifting himself to the side so he doesn’t have more than an ankle draped over Steve’s legs, “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who pulled away,” Steve snaps.

“Yeah, because it feels like you don’t want me up there,” Eddie shoots back.

Steve rolls his eyes again, irritated this time. “What, you don’t like it if I don’t let you sit on my lap, you don’t like it if I do let you sit on my lap– What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Maybe just the goddamn truth.”

Whatever Eddie expects, it isn’t for Steve to just… stare at him.

He stares at Eddie for a good five seconds in full silence before shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly, “you don’t want that.”

His sudden reticence only sparks Eddie’s irritation. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want, Steve. You don’t want to tell me, that’s on you, but don’t decide for me what I don’t want to know.”

“Well what do you think you’re going to hear, Eddie, huh?” Steve barks. “What do you want to hear? You wanna hear how Billy Hargrove sat on me – pinned me down while he beat me unconscious? Or you wanna hear how it felt to be handcuffed to a fucking chair while some Russians– while they– how it felt to be held down and not be able to stop them from doing anything?”

Steve has stood up now, pacing in front of Eddie, and Eddie wishes he could do anything other than fucking stare while his boyfriend has some kind of breakdown that he started.

“Or – or how about how I ruined multiple dates, or hookups, or whatevers when someone tried to sit themselves down on top of me and I damn near shoved them off onto the floor and then had to make up some dumb fucking excuse and run out on them before I had some kind of fucking panic attack? You wanna hear all that?” Steve demands, rounding back on Eddie. “No! You don’t… you don’t want to hear that.”

“Steve… no, I don’t wanna hear all that,” Eddie says, and hurries on when he can see Steve practically crumple in on himself, “I don’t want to hear that all that horrible shit has happened to you, but I need to.”

“Wh– what?”

“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want, but I need to know what might set you off so I don’t accidentally do it, okay?” Eddie says. “It fucking terrifies me that you went through all that, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m at least not going to be one more thing that makes you hurt. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”

“…Oh.”

It’s clearly not what Steve was expecting to hear, and for a moment he shifts uncertainly in front of Eddie. He wraps his arms around himself before seeming to think better of it and crossing them over his chest instead. Eddie wants nothing more than to draw him close and hold him, but Steve’s not quite ready yet.

“I’m not… I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want it to be an issue,” Steve finally says.

I don’t want you to treat me differently, he doesn’t say.

“Then we won’t make it an issue.” Eddie shrugs. “You got some kind of trauma associated with sitting on other people, or can you come back over here to me?”

Steve blinks at Eddie, startled, before he gives in to a little huff of laughter, slowly crossing back over to the couch.

“You’re an ass,” he says, all fondness.

“Mm, so I’ve been told,” Eddie says, aiming a smug smile up at Steve as Steve settles himself right over Eddie’s lap. “And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah…” Steve leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, quirking a little smile as he pulls away. “Here I am.”

#This week on Steve's Got Trauma: whatever this is #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #this got a bit sappier than intended but here we are I guess #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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commsroom · 25 days

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circumstances surrounding the “leaked” documents about eiffel’s sentencing in need to know, as i understand them:

one of the very first things kepler does is offer eiffel, minkowski, and lovelace a drink. in true “at any given moment, kepler has about eighteen ulterior motives” spirit, it is, among other things, “hospitality”, sure, a test for eiffel, definitely, but… i think the main reaction he was checking for was minkowski’s. will she look at eiffel, or react to his reaction? how much does she know? how much does he trust her?

in don’t poke the bear, jacobi and maxwell stop lovelace from breaking into kepler’s server by pretending to be in on it with her: “she’s very good. it might turn into a problem.” / “i’ll run it by kepler.” two episodes later, files from kepler’s very secure server are “leaked.”

(the words "need to know" are spoken offhandedly by eiffel in the episode itself, but it also calls back to the excuse maxwell gives lovelace: "colonel kepler practically lives by the words 'need to know.' and, apparently, nothing i can say will ever convince him that i 'need to know' everything that's in our databanks.")

need to know opens with minkowski finishing an eleven hour shift, and then finding out kepler moved that shift to, well. now. she’s already frustrated and sleep deprived.

minkowski complains to kepler. jacobi and maxwell, on cue, barge in and complain to kepler. kepler assigns minkowski, jacobi, maxwell, and lovelace to punishment detail, taking eiffel out of the group because “you’re the only one who hasn’t wasted my time with pointless whining.” lovelace says: “um, i don’t think that i did any complaining either, so…” but that doesn’t matter. it’s just an excuse to remove eiffel from the group; he could just as easily have been singled out for special punishment. either way, it was going to happen.

hilbert isn’t there. not the most significant factor, since he’s already been effectively sidelined by kepler, but remember he already knows about eiffel’s sentencing, doesn’t care (about eiffel’s history OR about anyone else’s personal drama), and will later respond to minkowski asking by telling her to grow up and get back to work. it simplifies things to not factor him in.

consider the files themselves: we know from happy holidays that maxwell not talking to her family is common knowledge, but jacobi reacts like it’s news. we know from hera’s performance review flashback in memoria that kepler and jacobi were aware of “multiple attempted crew member homicides” in her record. the file about hera’s bentham directory was on kepler’s server. if there’s one person who would’ve been briefed on everything there was to know about hera, it would’ve been maxwell; her shock is entirely feigned. in fact, almost every reaction from jacobi and maxwell here is feigned. they’re black ops specialists who arrived prepared with divide-and-conquer tactics. there’s no reason they wouldn’t know these things. also note that none of the “leaks” reveal anything about the mission they didn’t already know, and that nothing about the si-5 is incriminating - if anything, it’s mostly silly and even humanizing. and, yes, all of that contextualizes maxwell’s reaction to “skiing?!”

eiffel’s file comes through last, once they’re already worn out. kepler sends eiffel to check on them at the same time so that he’ll walk in. jacobi shows minkowski the file. he lurks around waiting to see how her not-confrontation with eiffel goes, and then cements the thought in her head: what about you? are you going to care?

it’s true that there are aspects of the mission only kepler knows, but as far as information on the hephaestus crew goes (barring one very particular detail about lovelace)? that’s part of the job they were chosen for. when they kill the plant monster, kepler says: “you think we didn’t know about that thing? please. we listened to every log that you beamed down to canaveral.” kepler’s entire foundation is shaken when jacobi turns on him because this is how they operate: “have one person take the blame, say the mean things. meanwhile, the poor, betrayed little guy gets a bit more leeway - just enough to sneak up and hit you from behind.” the show is not subtle about any of this. you can pick apart any early-s3 interaction between two hephaestus crew members and an si-5 agent and see the same divide-and-conquer tactics at play. jacobi and maxwell are always - in morals, loyalty, job description - closer to kepler than they are to the hephaestus crew, and to even sort of believe otherwise is falling for that facade. it’s worth remembering that the hephaestus crew are prisoners. some of them were aware of it from the start, and some of them were lied to, but none of them were meant to leave. the si-5, on the other hand, went up there with a unified goal, and the knowing intention they would be, among other things, prison guards.

#wolf 359 #w359 #i see posts about this from time to time like hey they planned that didn't they? and well. yes.#i don't think that's a theory. i think it's the canon intent. and this is why. i think people on the whole also give jacobi and maxwell #... too much leniency. it's buying into the roles they play. even kepler's role as a strict disciplinarian is playing into this to a degree #... this is longer than i intended. sorry.

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iamcalmdammit · 2 years

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Dirty Thoughts || [Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader]

Note: Dirty thoughts don't care where you are, they just appear. Ghost learns this the hard way while he's waiting for Soap with you in that church tower.

(Sort of a part one here. But it can be read without that.)

Ghost and you made it to the church a few hours after escaping Shadow Company and he quickly set up a sniper position in the tower. He'd been keeping in touch with Soap the entire time, relieved to hear that the sergeant made it out of the situation alive. His thoughts were focused on the task to survive in a hostile environment, but the two of them tried to lighten the mood a bit by telling jokes to each other.

But then Soap went awfully quiet and he was beginning to worry. Did they find him? Was he in danger? Well, in bigger danger than usual, that is. "Where the hell is he?" he asked quietly, mostly from himself.

"I'm sure he's fine," you said with a reassuring smile as you pointed at two Shadows across the square.

Ghost casually took them out then turned to you. "He hasn't said a word in half an hour."

"Maybe he has to stay quiet now."

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, even closing his eyes for a second while he took a deep breath to calm himself. "I hope he's okay out there," he spoke up eventually.

"It's cute that you're so worried."

"I'd rather call it annoying."

"Hey, look at me." Ghost did as you said and turned to you with a questioning look. There was something about the tone of your voice that managed to calm his thoughts in an instant. "He's a big boy, he can protect himself," you told him.

It was true. Soap was an experienced soldier, he could surely do it. He had been doing well before he went no contact, so maybe you were right, maybe he was just at a place that was full of Shadows. "You're right," he noted.

Letting out a sigh, he checked the square again but there was no sign of the enemy. Even though he tried to focus, his mind kept wandering back to the one thought that had been returning since the Shadows' betrayal. What happened was his fault alone, he was in charge, he should have put the pieces together sooner.

Shaking your head, you suddenly moved over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" you asked with your eyes focused on him, and he could tell you were worried about him.

"This one's on me, I should have known better," he told you.

"What are you talking about? None of us saw that coming."

"You told us you didn't trust Graves."

You rolled your eyes at this. "Yeah, because he's like Prince Charming from Shrek," you began to explain. "Perfect and gorgeous on the outside, and an amoral idiot on the inside.

Perfect and gorgeous on the outside? Interesting. "Does this mean he's your type? Looks-wise, I mean," he clarified.

Ghost expected you to think about your answer, or at least hesitate to say it, but you immediately stated, "He is."

"So you're the type of girl who's head over heels for guys with blond hair and blue eyes," he noted quite sadly, believing for a moment that you wouldn't like what he looked like. After all, sure, you flirted with him when he had the mask on, but what would you think once he took it off? If you weren't his type then he didn't stand a chance.

Focusing on inhaling and exhaling, he looked into the scope of his weapon to check the square. He found a Shadow, eliminated it, then glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. It was strange. When he had told Soap not long ago that he was handsome under this mask, he wasn't lying. Past girlfriends said that often, picking up women had never been an issue, but this situation? This scared him.

What if you rejected him despite everything?

As if you figured out what was on his mind, you grabbed him by the chin to make him look at you. "Your eyes are just as beautiful. Just saying," you added with a warm smile.

"But you haven't seen my face yet," he pointed out.

"Yet? So there's a chance I will?" You sounded so excited all of a sudden, that it made him laugh. If only you knew what was going through his mind lately whenever he looked at you… Well, he could just as well tell you. "What? Why are you laughing?" you asked confusedly.

"Because I wouldn't do the things I want to do to you while wearing a mask," he said bluntly.

Your face lit up and you laughed a little as well. "You have my attention. Could you elaborate?"

"Ghost, you copy?" came Soap's voice through the earpiece.

Finally. "Johnny! Where are you?" he asked hurriedly.

"Not far from the RV point."

"We're already inside the church."

Soap remained silent for a few seconds. "We?"

"Y/N's with me," Ghost informed him. The two had talked a lot since the incident, but this was the first time he mentioned you at all.

"I thought she was on their side."

"Apparently not. We'll be waiting for you. Tell us when you get here."

"Rog."

"And keep me updated while you're on the way."

"Sure."

When Ghost looked over at you, relieved that Johnny was okay, he noticed that you were watching him with an expectant look. When he let out a questioning hum, you said, "So will you elaborate?"

Oh, that. "No." This wasn't the right time to discuss his dirty little thoughts with you. If he went into the details, there was a chance he would use the opportunity that you're alone to get what he wanted from you.

"Okay, keep your secrets then," you told him eventually, moving back to your previous spot and turning back to the square.

He did the same, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand. Soap would soon show up and it would be time to move. He had to make sure the area was clean by the time he got there, so he kept scanning his environment.

But it wasn't enough to avert his thoughts. Even the way you breathed caught his attention, and he kept finding himself looking over at you out of the corner of his eye. "You're killing me," he noted quietly.

But apparently he wasn't quiet enough because you turned to him with raised eyebrows. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to. Just being around you is getting frustrating," he admitted, talking about the effects of thinking about being intimate with you.

You looked around then pointed at the door. "Should I leave?" you asked.

"No."

Upon hearing this, you let out a quiet chuckle. "Thought so."

"Shadows are committing war crimes outside, Soap's fighting for his life somewhere, and here I am, having trouble not thinking about fucking your brains out. Unbelievable," he groaned.

"I'm a distraction."

"That you are."

"That's bad."

He nodded. "Really bad, yeah."

Once you broke eye contact and turned back to the small window, you cleared your throat. "Well, you'd better figure something out because Soap will soon get here and it will be time to move. You need to focus."

"Trust me, I'm on it," he barked, maybe sounding a little colder than intended.

Just before you could come up with something, Soap's voice filled his ear. "I'm almost there."

"We'll meet you outside."

"Copy."

"Let's go, he's almost here," he told you as he stood up and began to gather his things. You did the same then began to walk towards the door, but he quickly reached out to grab your hand. "Hey, wait." You stopped and gave him a questioning look. "Be careful out there."

"You too," you said with a smile as you squeezed his hand.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare ii #modern warfare

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rawliverandgoronspice · 6 months

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I think what particularly annoys me with the "zelda was always gameplay before story" is that... it's not true? At least I don't think it's true in the way people mean it.

Zelda games were always kind of integrating story based on the standards of the time. When game stories were in game pamphlets, Zelda's stories was in the pamphlets. ALTTP tried to tell a pretty complicated stories with the limitations of the time. OoT was actively trying to tell an epic, cinematic tale packed with ambiance and expand what 3D could offer that 2D games struggled with. Majora's Mask is deeply character-driven in many, many ways. Wind Waker and Twilight Princess are both pretty concerned about their stories, down to the point that some people were bored by TP's cutscenes in particular. Skyward Sword, from what little I have played it, is very very invested in its characters and their journey (and 2D Zeldas have Link's Awakening, Minish Cap... None of them are visual novels, but they are concerned with emotional journeys, character arcs, mysteries about their own world...)

What is true is that the narrative wraps around the mechanics, and not the other way around. The mechanics drive themes, aesthetics, emotional beats and character journeys; and that's great. The world is a puzzle, and the world is delightfully absurd when it needs to be, full of heart when it calls for it, dark and oppressive when it suits the player experience.

That does not mean the games aren't invested in their stories. Even BotW has a pretty complicated story to tell about an entire world rather than one specific tale or legend --all of it at the service of the gameplay, which is exploration and mastery of your environment.

So. Yes, none of the Zelda games are million-words long visual novels that care deeply about consistency and nuance; but stories don't need consistency or deep lore to be meaningful and serve an emotional journey. Again: gameplay is story. The two cannot be so easily parsed from each other.

And Zelda as a franchise obviously care deeply about story, characters and setting (and still does right now --otherwise there wouldn't be a movie), even if it doesn't try to imitate prestige narrative-driven games, which is great and part of why I love this series so much. Doesn't mean it couldn't have done better in the past, it obviously could have, but I feel like pretending that nobody ever cared about story or character is just... false? It's a huge disservice to the devs too. Some of them obviously cared immensely.

The "gameplay above story", at least in the extent to which it is paraded today to defend TotK, mostly, is a really recent development. And I think it's one that deserves to receive some pushback.

#thoughts #tloz #zelda #the legend of zelda #totk critical #(sort of)#(I mean this is the subtext)#guys in 1998 nintendo was trying its darnest to make an epic story (with uhhh the writing that it got)#(love that game to bits but won't defend the actual writing)#the fully gameplay-driven game was mario 64!!!#I think this perception is also partially the fault of that “narrative game” category that is just.... kind of like Prestige TV but for gam #as if most games don't have some form of storytelling within them #and that coherence and vision and consistency are part of game design too #and will hurt a game's enjoyment if not handled correctly #a really really paired back narrative game is really difficult to pull off actually!#because you still need stakes and some degree of intrigue #so you need to figure out how to introduce this without walls of text and is it narrative design? is it game design? it's both!!#anyway anyway

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mikavlcs · 1 year

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White Flag

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Tyler is infatuated with you. Wednesday puts a stop to it.

Warnings: possessive-ish/ooc!wednesday, tyler slander, kinda abrupt ending, this is Not Good

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: this was requested by @vorsdany (mother<3), it’s bad but i hope you enjoy it at least a little!

Masterlist

Wednesday had never been one for sharing.

She had no problems sharing general family items like poisons, explosives, or, if she was feeling generous, torture devices. But when it was her things, it was a different story.

On more than one occasion she had bitten Pugsley for trying to take her dolls that she was in the process of decapitating (the boy even tasted weak). Thing only needed to be punted once to learn not to take her throwing knives without asking.

And Lurch, well… Lurch was virtually unkillable, meaning that she was able to get more creative with her methods of discipline for his rare missteps.

Not even her parents were exempt from this behavior, though they adored her viciousness and feverishly encouraged it rather than punishing her for it.

Naturally, this only worsened when she entered what she considered to be the seventh circle of hell—public school.

In the many years (and schools) that followed, there were many, many injuries ranging from scrapes to broken bones, and she felt bad for none of them. They all served a purpose: to teach their recipients a lesson.

Words like possessive and territorial were thrown around often in regard to her temperament, and while she enjoyed the negative connotation of those words, she didn’t believe that they quite fit.

Wednesday saw her behavior as perfectly reasonable. Her things were hers, there was no reason for anyone else to try and take them from her.

And that was still as true now as it was then.

This mentality was what got her to Nevermore in the first place. When she started caring for her brother in some capacity, she wasn’t sure, but he was her brother, and no one else was allowed to torment him but her.

And she made sure that the boys that shoved him in her locker were well informed of that fact.

The fact that she effectively neutered one of the jocks was just a bonus (and a favor for every woman that came into contact with him in the future).

Just before she left for Nevermore, she installed a lock on her bedroom door that only she could unlock, and if anyone else tried, they would be lucky to only lose a finger.

To her utter dismay, she did something at Nevermore that she had never done at any of her other schools—she grew attached to some of the students there. Mostly Enid and Eugene.

They were people she would (hesitantly, especially in Enid’s case) consider friends. And with that elevated status came the same begrudging care she had for her brother.

Eugene was the same type as Pugsley—soft, squishy, and entirely too weak to defend himself from his tormentors. Thus, Wednesday did it for him.

Enid, on the other hand, was too nosy for her own good and incredibly annoying, but no one was allowed to tell her that but Wednesday. And anyone that tried was met with swift and just punishment.

So when you confessed your disgusting feelings for her to which she unfortunately reciprocated, and you got to the point where you could, in a sense, be considered hers, this mindset carried over to you as well.

Still not as intensely as with her physical belongings, of course—you were your own person with personal autonomy and agency that she would never try to take from you.

She didn’t care about you spending time with other people or being affectionate with your friends, no. What she cared about was other people trying to actually steal you from her. That was what she wouldn’t tolerate.

Those other people had no chance, of course. The two of you complimented each other perfectly. Like sodium and cyanide.

But that didn’t stop imbeciles from trying… and many certainly did try.

A group of furs made a bet to see who could successfully get you to go on a date with them first. They approached you periodically throughout the day—the stink of overconfidence and wet fur radiating from each of them.

All Wednesday had to do was flash a few select pieces from the vast silver arsenal she accumulated, and they were running away with their tails between their legs.

There was a vampire, far too ambitious for his own good, that attempted to court you from afar by…staring and lingering around you.

Enid said he was doing it “Twilight style” but Wednesday hadn’t the faintest idea what dusk had to do with his poor flirting, nor did she care enough to find out.

She instead woke him up with a stake pressed just above his heart and a threat. That worked spectacularly.

And the traces of garlic that ended up in his soup at lunch the next day were merely a coincidence.

There were others—a few more idiotic furs, some gorgons, a siren—all of which Wednesday eliminated one by one with ease.

(Non-fatally, unfortunately. Because even though you liked Wednesday’s quirks, you still disapproved of cold-blooded murder…she would work on that with you.)

Until, finally, they seemed to learn and accept that you were hers and nothing was changing that—especially not any teenage boys with egos too big for their bodies. No one dared to approach you with their romantic inquiries. And she liked it that way.

Even Xavier, despite how empty his skull seemed most of the time, knew better at that point.

But there remained one person that routinely exceeded her low expectations. One annoying thorn that dug itself deep in her side refused to go away.

Tyler Galpin.

The Weathervane barista was Jericho’s de facto golden boy. Devoted, handsome (allegedly), and a royal pain in Wednesday’s ass recently.

She didn’t hate him at first. In fact, her limited interactions with him were entirely uninteresting, something she would have forgotten if it weren’t for what came after. But what Tyler lacked in personality, he more than made up for in audacity.

He was hopelessly infatuated with you and made no attempt to hide it. Blatant longing stares,

And he knew that you were unavailable. You literally told him you were on a date with her once and he just…smiled and nodded.

Homicidal didn’t even begin to describe how she felt in that moment.

For a time, she tried to steer you away from the Weathervane, but you loved the quaint café, so it was impossible to keep you away from its cozy seats and overly sweet drinks for very long.

And it seemed that no matter when you guys went, he was there, grinning like an idiot behind the counter as you walked in.

His constant presence irritated her to no end. It didn’t help that he was fervid in his pursuit of you, despite Wednesday being literally sat across from you every time he made his advances.

Every visit, she had to watch him hand deliver drinks with hearts and compliments in the foam art, had to watch you try to politely deal with your discomfort.

The urge to throw the drink in his face was so potent that it took every single ounce of self-control to hold herself back from doing it.

From then on, she ached to teach him the same lesson she did everyone else, but every time she saw him, you were also present. And to subject you to such acts when she knew you wouldn’t approve would be unbecoming of her.

She would also prefer to be with you and her friends at Nevermore instead of sitting in a jail cell.

So she decided to take it easy on him. The next time she was subjected to the displeasure of sharing space with him, she would give him a simple warning and from there he had two options.

He either got the message or the sheriff would be burying his only son.

In recent times, Fridays had become something to look forward to for Wednesday.

Since you’d begun seeing each other, you were insistent on taking her out every Friday after classes were over to “celebrate the weekend.”

In reality, Wednesday knew it was just an excuse to spend time alone with her without calling it a “date” because she loathed the term. She accepted it, for your sake.

This tradition is how you both ended up on the school-provided shuttle into Jericho, your book in your hands as you idly watched the passing scenery, Wednesday watching you in turn.

She would have invited you to her dorm, but Thing liked to take up as much of your attention as possible when you visited, so instead she decided to take you into town.

Predictably, the moment you stepped off the shuttle, you were begging her to go to the Weathervane.

She wanted to say no. Honestly, she would rather subject herself to the depths of hell that was Pilgrim World than step foot inside that place, but you were utilizing a recent favorite tactic of yours—a brutal combination of pouting and begging incessantly.

You cradled her hand between both of yours, wide eyes drenched in overblown sorrow and, to her amusement, oncoming tears.

The act was topped off with an occasional pleading, “Please, Wends,” taking extra care to extend the word please to infuriating lengths every time.

But even with how well-fortified her mental walls were, there was only so much her sanity could take. So she let you drag her through the doors of the coffee shop, vowing to get sweet revenge on you when you least expected it.

Of course, Tyler was there, lurking behind the counter with his eyes already intently trained on you, likely already spotting you outside the window.

Not noticing her tension, you turned to her, excited as could be. “I’ll order our drinks. Can you get us a booth?” you asked before walking up to the front.

Her eyes followed as you set your hands on the marble, leaning to look at the full menu board behind Tyler, then she turned her attention to him.

He had that look again, “heart eyes” as Enid would call it. It made her want to rip them out of his skull.

Wednesday tore her eyes away from the interaction and looked for a seat as you asked her to. Knowing you liked the booths near the windows, her gaze traveled there, finding most of them vacant.

Usually, she preferred sitting in the back corner, but this time she strode toward the booth all the way up front, wanting to be both as far from the barista and close to the exit as possible, and sat with her back to the wall.

Her mind wandered as she waited for you to return. She thought of Thing, who she had given permission to prank other students in exchange for him remaining at Nevermore while she brought you to Jericho.

She hoped he hadn’t hurt anyone too badly—at least not while she wasn’t there to watch.

Soft footfalls brought her from her musings, and she looked over just as you neared the booth.

You set her drink down on the table in front of her with a smile brighter than the sun. She gave you a nod in lieu of thanks and watched as you settled back in your seat, flipping open whatever fantasy novel you were immersing yourself in now atop your crossed legs.

Wednesday never fully understood the love you harbored for this place, but she had to admit that at times like this, the café was pleasant to be in.

Like her, you were in casual clothes, freed from the striped confines of the Nevermore uniform, and your relaxed posture reflected that change. You looked at home in the cushioned booth with pages nestled between your fingers and a furrowed brow.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to set outside, painting the sky a vibrant mixture of oranges, pinks, and purples.

Wednesday normally hated any color besides the dark crimson of freshly drawn blood, but the way this specific kaleidoscope of hues highlighted your features made it impossible for her to feel anything akin to hatred for them now.

The way the light refracted off the glass and onto your face was reminiscent of the Renaissance-era oil paintings she had been forced to analyze in art class. Easily more captivating than anything da Vinci or Michelangelo could ever dream of creating.

Even the sterilized music they played from the café speakers was less grating than usual (or she was being slowly indoctrinated… she would have to investigate that later).

You looked up, reaching for your drink, and your eyes found hers. A warm, if slightly mischievous smile appeared on your face, growing as you held up your cup.

“You wanna taste?”

She scrutinized the drink in your hand—some sugary monstrosity called “hot chocolate”—and immediately shook her head. “Absolutely not, I value my digestive system.”

You laughed, nose scrunching in that way that Wednesday found herself just a bit enamored with. Once your laughter subsided, you took a long sip, heaving an exaggeratedly satisfied sigh afterward.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulled her own book from her bag, a spellbook her mother had given her for her birthday. She’d been studying it for weeks now, wanting to see if she could tap into the supposed magical capabilities that her distant ancestors wielded.

The booth lapsed into silence, the only sounds being the background chatter of the few other café guests and the low overhead music as you enjoyed each other’s company, taking sips every so often.

But the peace didn’t last, for Tyler just had to pollute the air with his presence again. This time, completely uninvited.

Wednesday recognized the footsteps before he even properly approached the table, but you didn’t notice until he was in your space, feet coming directly into your line of sight as you read. You glanced up at him, brows drawn in confusion, and he gave you that stupid grin.

His hand moved and to Wednesday’s shame, it was only then that she noticed the plate he was holding. Shyly, he set it down in front of you, presenting what looked to be a Danish of some kind.

“For the prettiest girl in the café.”

Wednesday made a mental note to check if her spellbook contained any particularly debilitating curses.

Your lips pulled back into more of a grimace than a smile, but he accepted it with enthusiasm, nonetheless, and walked off before you could give any sort of proper response.

Wednesday decided that was it. She downed the rest of her drink and stood, muttering a foreboding “I’ll be right back” in the process.

The weight of your gaze settled on her shoulders as she stalked over to the counter but she brushed it off, her focus set firmly on the boy operating the machines behind it. A conscious effort was made not to crush the cup in her hand. She didn’t want to alert you to her pursuit.

Silently, she placed the cup down on the marble and rang the bell.

Tyler’s face lit up at the sound, but it fell when he turned and locked eyes with Wednesday.

“Oh, Wednesday, hey. Do you need something?”

Her lips curled into a sinister smile. “Yes, actually, I do.”

Reaching over the counter, she grabbed Tyler’s apron and pulled him forward. Tyler, eyes wide, sputtered but was quickly silenced by the murderous glint in the seer’s eyes.

“I need you to get it through your thick, bulbous skull that she’s not interested. And quickly, or I promise that you will be eating through a straw for the rest of your short, miserable life,” she assured him, speaking low so only he could hear.

She dropped her voice even lower to the barest of whispers, leaning forward as her apathetic eyes bored into his.

“Don’t think that you’ll be safe from me just because you’re the sheriff’s son. Do you understand?”

Tyler nodded hurriedly, his normally pallid complexion growing an even starker white.

Wednesday abruptly let go of his apron, sending him stumbling back on unsteady feet. She gave him another frosty glare, for good measure, before casting her gaze down to her cup.

“Oh, and I need a refill. Make it on the house,” she said, pushing the empty cup toward the unmoving boy then walking back to her table.

The curious looks you were giving her went ignored as she sat back down and opened her book to continue her studying.

“What did you say to him?” you asked, eyeing the boy’s terrified expression.

Wednesday shrugged. “I simply asked him for a refill.”

She knew you didn’t believe her, but she also knew you wouldn’t question her further, so she kept her eyes on the pages in front of her and waited for her drink to arrive.

Tyler returned minutes later, noticeably more withdrawn. His eyes never left the ground as he delivered Wednesday’s drink and immediately hurried back behind the perceived safety of the counter.

Your wide, concerned eyes followed him as he left.

“Just a refill?” you reiterated, skepticism dripping from every syllable.

Wednesday smirked. The familiar vindictive feeling of victory set in, creating a terrifyingly satisfying afterglow for her to bask in as she took your hand in hers, and squeezed it lightly.

“I swear on my late scorpion’s life, mon cher.”

#this one might suck ngl...sorry about that #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

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gavisfanta · 3 months

Text

ENJOY THE SILENCE - GAVI

summary: you and Gavi don't need words to communicate.

a/n: short one but Im working on the requests

warnings: none

"words are very unnecessary"

Gavi asked you out on the 24th of April 2023.

You said yes, nothing more.

Unlike others relationships, yours and Gavi's was... quiet.

"How was your day?" You sometimes asked after he came from practice, you always waited for him to come home before going to sleep.

"Good, yours?" He asked while taking off his shirt and his pants too.

"Good too." You answered and he flashed you a quick smile before going to brush his teeth.

After he was done in the bathroom he crawled onto the bed with you and fell asleep, with his head on his chest and your arms around him.

Sex wasn't diffrent either.

Nothing more escaped your lips than a few moans and swearing under your breath. For Gavi it was the same, after you two were done and all cleaned up, he mostly sealed the act with a short and quiet "I love you" to which you responded quickly.

"I love you too."

The friends of you two considered you crazy.

"Relationships are based off of communication?!" Pedri asked the two of you, but in reality, a relationship was built off of comfort.

Gavi and you didn't feel uncomfortable while being around eachother. It was exactly the other way around.

You two were both very shy, quiet and not talkative. That's why it was perfect that you two found eachother.

Even if people often told the press after being asked about your and Gavi's relationship that you two are crazy and never talk. That wasn't entirely true.

Gavi learned to read your body language and your looks, just two days after meeting you. Now he could easily tell if you wanted to leave the place, and that only by a single motion.

The same was for you with Gavi.

One move with his arm or his head and you immediately understood.

So one day you and Gavi were sitting on Pedri's couch, on the opposite side of each couch, still facing each other.

As soon as they started talking about their hookups, Gavi and you made eye contact. He raised his brows as soon as he saw your eyes. He saw that you were uncomfortable since some of the guys have been hooking up with your friends and you didn't wanna listen to them talking about it. He then tilted his head to the door and you nodded. Then you two stood up at the same time and Gavi put his hand on your lower back and then turned his head back.

"We'll be right back." Pedri nodded as soon as Gavi said that. As the two of you left the room and went outside, Ferran spoke up.

"That's actually creepy, did you hear them talk?" He asked and looked around the room.

"I told you its creepy what they do" Pedri laughed out and Ferran shook his head.

"Insane."

"taken only to heart"

#barca #fc barcelona #gavi #pablo gavi #football #futbol #fanfic #mustread #espana #gavi x reader #gavi fluff #pablo paez gavi

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

What you Deserve

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris x Max Verstappen

Genre: angst

Summary: Max deserves to be loved in every way, and she, along with her two partners, are determined to give him that.

Warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of Max's childhood, use of whore as an insult, domestic dispute, implied smut,

Notes: No hate to Kelly. I just needed her to be the villain for the plot

Masterlist

Her life was, and is still, a Rollercoaster. Being the daughter of Christian Horner made it so. Her life has always been with cars. Her soul felt connected to them in a way.

Along with the cars, there also came the people. Seb, Daniel, and Max had become her attachments. Specifically Max since she's only a year younger than him.

You'd think they were in love by the way they acted with eachother. And she would be lying if she said she didn't want that. He, however, wanted to focus on his career and she respected that.

In 2019 she met Charles. An inevitable meeting since she was alway running around making sure things were going to plan. And by running, she means litterally.

She collided with the Monegasque while neither of them were paying attention.

He took her to dinner that night to apologize despite her protest.

It ended up being a fun night. After three after race dinners or outings it felt like tradition.

Something that started as friends didn't last long. Neither are sure who fell first, just that both of them did. They couldn't stay away from each other.

She told her dad. She was terrified and shaking and wanted to cry the entire time, but he took it well. He'd never had a problem with Charles and outside of racing he invited him in. The garage was still off limits.

She remained friends with Max during this time. Even the next year when he and Kelly had been getting closer. She knew it wasn't her place to say anything, but something felt off about it. And the ache in her heart for the blonde Dutch boy hadn't left despite her years with Charles.

It made her feel guilty. Everytime her thoughts flickered back to Max, she felt herself spiraling to places she shouldn't be.

Charles had caught her in such a state. He'd panicked when he saw her glassy and absent stare.

"What's wrong, chéri?" He knelt down next to her and took her hands in his despite his own body shaking.

"I'm not good for you."

"Well that's not true at all." He coos at her. Though it only makes her tears fall harder.

"I love you but I also love Max. Always have. It's not fair to you."

"I already knew amour." He chuckles. "And I don't care. I think your heart os big enough to love more then one person. I'd even be open to seeing if he wanted to join us."

Things changed for the better after that. She felt safe enough to talk about feelings she'd never been able to explore previously.

They'd made a few attempts at asking him about his relashonship with Kelly. None of it had gone anywhere. They didn't go out with them and Max seemed to get rigid and defensive at the subject. So they dropped it until they had more information to work with.

Lando came to them out of nowhere. One day he just exploded with life and laughter into their world and never left.

The Brit had made it very clear that he liked it with them and the other two felt the same. It worked in a way people would find unconventional. But it's their relationship and nobody else's business.

That conversation with her dad made her laugh instead of shake. Mostly because he decided to give a stern lecture to both boys about how he would not hesitate to send Max into the sides of their cars if they hurt her.

Similarly, Max also had a few things to say. Despite him and Kelly going public with their relationship, he still cared for her. A small part of him even knawed with jealousy at times.

Their love for each other felt so different. They openly expressed it and were always smiling around each other. Max had to do something amazing to get that kind of affection from Kelly. Or he had to do something for her first.

But it's all he knows. He'd never had affection modeled for him growing up. He'd seen more hurt then anything. And he can't help the part of himself that wants what they have.

"I'm getting worried about him." Says the female who is currently curled across the laps of her lovers.

"Pretty sure you're always worried about him." Lando smiles at her endearingly. His head is resing on Charles' chest and his fingers idly stroke through the females hair.

She hums in agreement. It's not unusual that she's worried about Max. But this felt different.

Three days ago, Max had made history. Yes everytime he was next to Kelly, the Dutch looked almost pained. Even at the after celebrations he tried to stay with the three of them and not Kelly who looked interested in chatting with other people.

"I believe Kelly is gone for a few days." Pipes Charles. He sets his phone down and cuddles closer to his two lovers. "We could see if he wants to go out with us."

"Wouldn't he be cheating on her then?"

"Realistically it could just be Max hanging out with friends. Plus what Kelly doesn't know won't kill her."

Max says yes. It shocks her that he does so. Max has always been loyal to a fault. Maybe he is in a worse situation then they thought.

They met at the restaurant. It wasn't anything high class and discreet enough that they would hopefully be able to eat in peace.

Max arrived fashionable late and looking mildly anxious.

"Sorry I'm late." He says while getting comfortable in his seat.

"No need to apologize." Reassures Charles. "Is everything alright?"

Max hesitates, his body going rigid like recalling a bad memory. "Kelly's trip got delayed and when I told her I had plans she tried to keep me home instead."

"She doesn't think your cheating or anything does she?" Lando almost whispers across the table. Eyes filled with concern.

"I don't think so? She's accused me of it a few times with y/n but not recently that I can remember."

The female, who's been fighting the urge to punch Kelly since she started dating Max, decides holding his hand is probably better then her words at the moment. He smiles at her in endearment and appreciation.

"Let's move to another topic, shall we?"

The rest of the dinner is spent conversing about nonsense. Nothing about racing or work just everything and nothing all mixed together.

Max is finally looking more relaxed. His phone forgotten in his pocket. His smile lighting up at silly stories and funny jokes. It's refreshing to see him like this and the female finds herself melting into the fact he looks so comfortable with them.

Three days after their dinner date, Max calls to ask if they'd be willing to come to his place for drinks. Which is how they find themselves standing in the doorway of Max's apartment almost dumbfounded.

There is hardly anything around that feels like Max. No redbull posters or racing themed items. No pictures of Max and Kelly together and nothing of Max with his family.

Even when Max is giving them a tour of the place, she spots a shelf that gives evidence this isn't a strangers place. A singular shelf. Again she's fighting the urge to rip all of Kelly's clothes to shreds.

"Mate, your apartment feels like it's a display case." Lando's nose scruntches up in confusion.

Max leads them over to the bar area and starts pouring drinks. His shoulders shrugging and the Brits comment. "Kelly says it's better for my focus if it's like this."

Charles must have caught the way she moved. Her body ready to throw all Kelly's personal belongings out the window. The Monegasque's hand on her thigh stops her from doing so. He shoots her a pointed look that says 'violence is not the answer'.

Joke on him. Violence is always the answer. She just needs to wait for the perfect opportunity to unleash her fury. Just like her sarcastic father and hard to faze mother taught her.

They spent the evening in relatively deep conversation. Not awkward, flowing and comfortable. Max was opening up about his. She knew majority of what happend in his youth but the things about Kelly are new. How Max talks like it's completely normal is beyond her.

They continued this dance for a few months. Waiting for Kelly to not be looking before showering the Dutch in affection. They didn't push anything, just tried to give Max the love he'd been missing and craving for so long.

She would say it was cheating. The three of them are simply being good friends and making sure Max is doing okay mentally. And physically.

Until they probably go a step to far. All of them buzzed with liquid courage. The tension from the last few months finally spilling over.

The intimate a passionate night brought then all together in ways she didn't know were possible. The way Max was tearing up at being taken care of for once made every piece of her melt.

They couldn't go back after this. Max had said so himself. He wanted to be done with Kelly but felt stuck.

They reassured him that whatever happened they would be waiting, ready with open arms.

A week after, Lando woke up to his phone buzzing at an ungodly hour in the morning. Her and Charles shot out of bed out the sound of Max's broken sob and the sound of something smashing in the background.

The car ride felt blurry. The anger rising in her chest making it hard to breathe. Lando's voice is swimming in her head as he tries to keep Max on the phone with him and keep him breathing.

When they get to Max's apartment, the door is unlocked. Charles swings it open to reveal Kelly angrily stomping around. The place is a mess and there is shattered glass covering majority of the floor.

Kelly stops over to the female and lands a finger in the center of her chest. "This is your fault. You made Max into a damn whore for you people."

"Pretty sure you're the whore. Aren't you the one who feels the need to keep yourself young by sleeping with people who are barely legal behind Max's back?" She spits.

Kelly's palm connects with her cheek. Her face stings but her knuckles are burning with fiery rage. She doesn't give Kelly time to recover. Her fist connects with her jaw and sends her reeling backwards.

She'd been so engrossed that she didn't realize the boys had pulled Max out of wherever he was hiding. Now in the saftey of Lando's arms. Charles is the one who ultimately pulls her away from the scene. Despite her fighting him at first to get another hit on Kelly in before they leave.

The next few days are filled with attempting to get Max's things, phone calls, and the ensuring PR circus. The legal things worked themselves out since technically it's his apartment and Max never layer a finger on Kelly. Furthermore, Kelly hit her first so she got away on the 'self defense' excuse.

Max had his stuff mixed in with theirs. She'd printed pictures of them all together and pinned them to the wall. His presences in the house is known.

As she stands in the doorway of their room, her three lovers curled up together, snoring peacefully, she knows it was always meant to be.

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taahko · 3 months

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I just found your blog today can you please explain or point out a post that explains the MASH timeloop thing? I love the show but I've never heard anyone talk abt it that way before

oh yay hurray ive been waiting for an excuse to talk about this lmao sorry this is long

ok so basically maeve (my gf) and i started watching mash for the first time about a month ago and we started joking about it being like the characters were stuck in a time loop mostly because the same basic episode format is repeated over and over, because it's a sitcom from the 70s and the episodes arent meant to be watched en masse where you can start noticing all the little repetitions and plot holes and inconsistencies that naturally occur in longform tv

but then i started to pay attention to the dates being mentioned in the show - famously the korean war never technically ended, but american troops were involved in active on the ground fighting between 1950 and 1953, so the entire 11 seasons of mash have to be squeezed into that three year period. with 251 episodes occurring within 1,129 days, that gives every episode about 4.5 days of real time. so it works right? no time loop right? well wait a sec

for the first 5 seasons or so of mash they give very consistent dates about when things are happening. for example, bj arrives in korea in september of 1952, at the start of season 4. colonel potter arrives about a week after him, and talks about how he has 18 months left before his retirement. that gives us about 7 months for the shows final 7 seasons to take place in, meaning that by the episode 'point of view' in season 7 we should be around december of 1952. in that episode the pov character starts writing a letter home and in the corner he writes the date:

september of 1951. ok, could be that this episode isn't meant to take place in the regular timeline of the season - maybe for some reason its just like, a random flashback episode. but bj, charles, and potter are all present, even though none of them got to korea until 1952. now i KNOW that this is not like, the True Hidden Secret Lore of MASH, this is the writers realizing they were running out of road and turning back the clock a bit to accommodate for how long the show was running on. but play in my time loop space with me please

more talking points:

consistent jokes about time zones and how difficult it is to call the states because "our today is their yesterday but if you call them now it might not reach them until our tomorrow and by that point our yesterday will be their today"

hawkeye's increasing mania over the seasons and his conviction that the war will never end, comparing the camp to dante's inferno multiple times. maeve once pointed out that the closer hawkeye comes to realizing that he's trapped in a time loop the closer he gets to being institutionalized - and what does the series finale cold open onto ? hawkeye in a mental institution. the only way out is to lose yourself etc. sidenote frank also escaped the time loop by going insane and getting institutionalized

in a war for all seasons bj potter and charles are all present at the 1951 new years party as well as the 1952 new years party

there are three christmas episodes, two of which bj is present for even though he should only have spent one christmas in korea

details of people's families and lives shift around - sometimes potter's got multiple grandchildren, sometimes he only has one, sometimes its a girl, sometimes its a boy, sometimes she's 5, sometimes he's 2

we're not the first people to talk about this either, here's a good video compilation posted a couple yrs ago of time loop moments

overall ive been using the time loop thesis to add another layer to my mash viewing experience. it increases the already present sense of constant dread, anger, frustration, and disgust with their situation that the characters feel, plus it feels like a very poignant take on the united states' constant warmongering and violent existence. it really never ends, it just goes on an on. the future's been canceled by the war department- we're just gonna replay the past.

#shut up aggie #mash #might add more to this later

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actual-changeling · 6 months

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i am incapable of talking about an idea without automatically turning it into a ficlet. this was supposed to be a one-sentence post but uh. have this instead i guess

~~~

It's awkward at first, being around each other again.

They cannot talk about any of it, really, not with another apocalypse so close to succeeding that he can already smell charred earth and burned feathers. Opening that box, those six thousand years of something, would come with more than either of them is currently prepared to handle, and so they don't.

No apologies but no accusations either, only a silent but mutual understanding to save their home once and for all—and then they would have the rest of forever to verbally tear their relationship apart.

Still, despite keeping his distance, despite locking up the more tender feelings simmering in his chest, despite refusing to take his glasses off or coming within arm's length of aziraphale, Crowley can feel himself softening by the hour.

Three days. He makes it three days before he slips up—or rather, before Aziraphale slips up.

They are back in the bookshop, and Crowley is side-eyeing his usual armchair like he has been doing since he first set foot in the shop again, but for now he is content leaning against a pillar and watching Aziraphale sort through his bible collection.

"If only I could remember which one- I swear I read something relevant, I just need to find it again."

He discards another one after impatiently thumbing through it, and he carelessly sets it down on top of a swaying tower of scripture. Crowley briefly considers making it topple over—and then it does so without any demonic intervention, crashing down in a flurry of ripping paper and hardcovers, hitting the stone floor head-on.

"Ohh f-" Aziraphale stops himself, angrily staring at the mess as if it hadn't been mostly his fault in the first place. He takes a deep breath, then another, and to Crowley's utter surprise, he says, "Fuck."

A half-choked laugh escapes him, closer to a giggle than he would care to admit, and it's the word itself and the furious expression directed at a pile of paper that rips it out of him and through every carefully constructed wall.

The smile is foreign on his face, the sound of his own laughter even more so, and yet he finds it remains, small and fragile but visible, when Aziraphale's head snaps up. A myriad of expressions flicker across his face, too quickly for Crowley to keep up, and fear freezes him in place, his mind scrambling for some sense of control and finding none.

Aziraphale doesn't lash out, nor does he ridicule him; there is no bitter disappointment or confused anger. No, Aziraphale looks at Crowley with eyes the colour of the fading night sky and smiles back. A true, wide smile, all teeth and sunshine, and he is so disoriented by the entire sequence of events that it takes him almost a minute to label the emotion coming off of him in waves.

Relief. Aziraphale is relieved.

He steps over the mess on the floor, slowly and carefully, as if approaching a skittish deer, and considering the tension tightening his muscles, it is not an unfit comparison; he stops an arm's length away, still smiling.

Someone help him, the universe might be doomed because Crowley lifts one hand and pushes his glasses up into his hair, soaking up the breathless gasp he gets in response. So much for waiting.

"There you are," Aziraphale whispers, steadily holding his gaze, and Crowley's smile deepens, overshadowing the river of doubt coursing through his veins. For the first time since being torn apart, the world feels worth saving again.

"There I am."

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce

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7ndipity · 7 months

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When Their Crush Has a Crush

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: In connection with the Secret Crush HCs, how they would react/get jealous to finding out that their crush has feelings for someone(or even another member)

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! We’re back with more of that unrequited angst that y’all apparently love lol! This also kinda reminded me of this jealousy reaction I made awhile back, so there’s that if you want to check those out too!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Jin:

Oh, he HATES it. And does not hide it, though he’s giving you five different reasons why he hates it, and none of them are the truth, at least not entirely.

“They don't strike me as the relationship type.” “I think they might be a murderer.” “They’re just not good enough for you.”

Tries to make himself look better in comparison.

But he’s not trying to make a move! Nonono, he would never do that. He just wants you to know what a better option looks like.

Yeah, that’s it.🙄

Yoongi:

Tries to not let it bother him, and by that I mean he’s like “of-course-you-would-find-someone-why-wouldn’t-you?-it’s-not-like-he-ever-told-you-how-he-felt-but-it’s-totally-fine-and-not-haunting-his-every-waking-moment-but-omg-what-if-you-actually-get-with-them-”

Yeah, no, he’s going to majorly overthink the whole situation, like it’s bad.

Would probably withdraw for a bit, but then realizes that he can’t stand the distance and gets kinda clingy.

Which clingy Yoongi is like? A whole different person?

This would probably be one of the few moments that would tip you off about his true feelings.

Hobi:

Tries not to be bothered at first, bc it’s just a crush, it doesn’t mean anything… Right?

Queue him getting in his head and starting to worry about literally everything.

Throws so much side eye though and knit picks whoever's caught your attention, but he can’t quite help it.

Would end up slipping up and saying something about he doesn’t think they’re a good match for you. Which leads to you asking who would be a good match for you then?

And then he either just says idk, or ends up basically describing himself and hoping you don’t notice how desperately he’s trying not to confess right then and there.

Namjoon:

Gets jealous super easily, you already know, though you don’t quite know why.

As I said before, if you so much as even mention being into somebody, he’s pulling back and distancing himself a bit as a kind of defense mechanism.

Or else he tries to avoid being around them or bringing them up in conversation, though he’ll deny that’s what he’s doing if you ask.

Is so fucking passive aggressive about anything relationship related, you end up thinking that he must’ve got dumped or smth and feeling kinda bad for him.

Which ends up triggering this weird sort of truce between you where you just don’t talk about it for a while.

Jimin:

Lowkey panicking inside. Because yeah, hypothetically he wants you to be happy and live your best life, but does it have to be with them? Or anyone?

Would want to try to dissuade your feelings for them a bit, but he doesn’t want to come off as manipulative or disrespectful of your opinion.

“They don’t seem like a good match for you.”

He’s mostly kinda mad at himself, cause if he’d just told you how he felt earlier, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Would probably start seriously considering actually confessing, cause he cannot stand being in this weird limbo state with you.

Taehyung:

Ngl, he’s so dramatic, even if it’s just a tiny crush, he’s going to be kinda heartbroken, like you might as well have kissed them in front of him.

Okay, maybe it’s not that bad, but you get what I’m saying. He’s not cool with this.

Does not hide his feelings of disdain for whoever’s caught your attention.(they are not passing the vibe check)

Gets hella clingy and wants to be with you constantly, so that you don’t really have time for them? If that even makes sense?

Tries to find things to impress you and get you to take notice of him cause don’t you think he’s nice too? Don’t you think he’d make a good partner too?

Jungkook:

The sulkiest man to ever exist.

He can not stand it, even if it's a purely theoretical situation, like all you said was that you thought some guy was cute, and now he’s imagining all the worst case scenarios where he could lose you to them.

Like Tae, he’d get soo fucking possessive and clingy, trying to prove himself to you, though he might not exactly be sure what he’s trying to prove.

Would actively try to put himself between you and them if at all possible.

As I said before, this would probably be his achilles heel that pushes him over the edge and leads to him confessing, even if he knows it’s the wrong time.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @captainorangegoose @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis

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thegoldenhoof · 6 months

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After reading multiple metas on all sides, I think the biggest problem with OFMD, specially Season 2 is that it is almost entirely built on tell don't show. Worse sometimes it is hint, don't tell or show. This is not great writing in itself but it is made worse when the POV characters are all shown to have a rather unstable relationship with reality and memory.

Stede is self-centered enough to just not acknowledge or even notice things around him that don't actively interact with his focus which is mostly just Ed. He is self-centered to the point of being delusional about other people and reality of circumstances. Season 2 sees him doing better and his rescue of the crew is his highest point. But we see this even through Season 2 in his interactions with Lucius and during Ed's apology his interactions with Zheng Yi Sao.. Basically anyone not Ed.

Ed is shown to have a negotiable understanding of truth - seen with his Ed/Blackbears/Kraken split, his "I didn't kill them, the fire killed them" dissociation with his own actions, his rewriting of the context of his own memories (Knife parade) or just straight up forgetting shit (Talent show). And yes all of these are trauma responses but that does not dismiss the fact that his perception is far from objective.

Izzy is straight up shown to be lying in his first interaction with Ed regarding Stede. He is aware of his surroundings better than Stede and Ed but he is also supremely blind to himself and his interpersonal relationships. Where Stede is delusional about the world he can be interpreted as delusional about himself.

We as the audience ofcourse can put context to their words from their actions and this worked ok in season 1 (not always but mostly and that becomes important later) But Season 2 leans much more heavily on tell without show. (Yes yes budget cuts...but that doesn't change the final product).

Where season 1 added some flavour of back story with tell dont show, Season 2 expects dialogue to do all the heavy lifting (none more than Izzy's death speech) without this dialogue being backed up by action. Worse (or better) this dialogue isn't exposition which makes the scene better but which also means more often then not it is merely hinting at a meaning.

So we have half explained dialogues, sometimes with dubious context, used as a substitute for action given to us by characters with established unreliable perspectives. The heavy lifting of understanding the meaning of these dialogues, their significance and weigtt, has then been shifted to the audience interpretation. This interpretation is of course done per individual interest and bias. This is not bad in itself but remember this has been happening since season 1. Which means the new interpretations are being built on older interpretations. Those little flavour back story hints have now become the lens through which the entire season 2 is meant to be understood.

We are all watching a different show in a sense and that us not a failure of the audience. It is, rather, an accidental byproduct (and a failure) of the show's design because of the combination of all the above factors which was (made worse by the budget cuts leaving less time/space for action)

The show then unfortunately comes down to whose POV are you accepting (and certain fans have turned this into an exercise of moralizing self righteousness.) and to what extant.

A true understanding, imo, can only be by accepting that none of their perspectives are absolutely true and trying to center the objective narrative between all of them in a way that best fits all their perspectives AND accounts for all their blind spots, rather than lift any one POV as the absolute uncritical truth. (And fans on all sides have been guilty of this)

(P.S. I think this may also have worked positively towards making this show so huge is season one because it left enough ambiguity for us all to project on it multiple complex and sometimes contradicting interpretations creating an Illusion of much greater complexity that was more in our collective heads than in the actual show.)

#ofmd #ofmd critical #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ed teach #Izzy hands #ofmd meta #narrative techniques #yes there are some pro Izzy interpretations i don't agree with either #because they are definitely guilty of this #a lot of very early Izzy meta before the annoying harrasment was actually much more balanced #but here we are.#but 'Ed ha never done anything wrong in his life and saying he did makes you racist' brand of fans are definitely the worst offenders.

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 2 years

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#331

“Well, well, well. Lookie here. When I heard that there was a faggot in the woods behind the rest area shithouse taking load after load in the early morning, I didn’t give it a second thought. I figured it was one of those San Francisco flag waving faggots passing through. It wasn’t until my truck driving buddy sent me a video of you getting plowed by this farmer looking guy and you were begging him to breed you right after you took my buddy’s load in your cunt and he pissed in your face. I had to see for myself. And here you are….

“You are handcuffed, naked, on your knees, head bowed, and crying like a total bitch. You know something’s up when I didn’t bring you in to the station, but rather took you here. You have been kneeling in that position for twenty minutes processing what’s going to happen to you. Well, let me tell you.

“Normally, had you been one of those faggots from the city, your ass would have been hauled in. But you are local, granted from the other side of the mountain pass. Yeah, I grabbed your clothes including your ID after I handcuffed you and placed you naked in the back of my squad car. After a quick search through my systems and then some independent internet searches I see you are a 52-year-old divorced father of four, three of which are on their own and the fourth lives with your ex-wife across the state. Being 6’ 4”, it’s obvious from the pile of hairy beef kneeling in front of me that your 320-pounds mostly comes from a long history of working as foreman at Hilbert construction after twelve years as a Sargent in the Marine Corps. Your ID says your name is Doyle Allen Delong, but I see you like to go by Allen or even more informally your initials, DAD to your crew.

“I did find that twenty years ago you were arrested for public sexual indecency at a public bathroom outside San Diego, but that charge got dropped. Interesting.

“Now I bet due to the torrential rain last night and the rain forecasted for this afternoon, construction has come to a halt today. That gave you the opportunity to be a cumdump for truck drivers beginning their day, and you made a bee line here. Now did I get any of that wrong?...

“Your silence speaks volumes. And I am assuming you are invoking your right to remain silent. Well let me address your rights here. You have none. You ain’t being arrested….

“Well that changed your demeanor. Look up. Look at me. Yeah, I figured as much. You are still hungry for cock, and you are salivating staring at my cock. Well bitch, you are going to get it. This isn’t some random spot I pulled you out of my cruiser. This is the backside of my property. Behind you and over the hill is my stable, and then another hill to my home. Since your work day went to shit, you have the entire day to spend buck naked in my stable like a beast that needs to be broken.

“I don’t need to ask your permission; your hard on tells me everything I need to know. Damn! That is one giant pecker you have there. Too bad it’s going to be ignored for the rest of the day. When I approached you spread over that fallen tree, I saw you had your cock and balls tucked under your belly so no one can see. I bet you did that so that no one would pay attention to it. I don’t think you can fit into my biggest cock cage. Fuck, you are leaking.

“Damn, this is some slimy leak. So you like being naked on your knees, hands cuffed behind you, your dick betraying an idea of you being any type of alpha male. I bet it kills you to be a foreman, bossing your men around knowing they are more of a man than you. I bet you fantasize about them pulling a train on you. I was a First Lieutenant in the Army. I know that you Marines are all alike. Either you are a sadistic bastard or the most depraved cumdump animal. Either you want to control, or you want to be controlled. There’s hardly a middle ground.

“You haven’t said one damned thing yet. You know it’s true. You know you want to be under the control of a natural superior, one who will put you in your place and expect you to remain there.

“I assume you have no plans for this weekend. If you do, you will be canceling them. You are going to be my beast, my animal. I’ll lock a hood on you, and a remote-controlled shock collar made explicitly to control animals. I have about 8 to 10 guys that I will invite over to use you. Your cunt and toilet mouth will be used continually throughout the weekend.

“So will your cock. I think I'm changing what I said earlier. There is no way that baseball bat is going to be ignored. I’m in control of it. There will probably be slaves over; their owners will want to see them get fucked by a beast like you. The thing is beasts don’t show mercy when they fuck, neither will you. The more savage the better.

“What you say, you want to be my beast, my animal for the weekend?

“…Are you cumming? Jesus Christ! You are. Fuck! Let it go. Damn! I've never seen a no handed eruption like that. That’s an impressive load. I hope you can remain hard throughout this weekend, if not, there are injections to keep you hard.

“I don’t care if you lose interest. You will be expected to perform continually. As you can tell, I am horned up. My dick needs attention, and you ass is going to provide it.

“Jesus! Now that is a fuckable ass if ever I saw one. Here lean forward, let me guide you down. Get that cunt up in the air. My driver friend said you were a sloppy fuck.

“And he was right. How many loads are up here?... Shut up! Animals don’t fucking speak. Grunt your answer. Four? It feels like a lot more. Fuck! After I dump my load in you, I’ll plug you up. Then tonight, I’ll have you dump the cum stew on the concrete in front of everybody. Then I will have you lick it up so they can see what kind of disgusting animal you are.

“Oh fuck, I’m getting close here. Clamp down. Jesus! You aren’t all stretched out. Here it comes. Uh! Uh! Ahhhhh! Ah! Fuck!

“Fucking hell. Clamp down further; I’m pulling out. There. You made a fucking mess on my trousers. I’m going to have to change them. Let me get you over on your back.

“You’re a fucking mess. You are probably thirsty. Open up that toilet mouth, and drink what you can. Ahh….

“Damn, you are one beefy beast. Normally I shave my slaves, but there is no way in hell I am going to touch one hair on you. Your chest is perfect. Your nips look a bit soft. Titty clamps will be in your future, angry ones.

“Close your mouth. We need to get you collared, hooded, plugged, chained up, and installed in the stable to start this weekend. Is there anyone we need to notify? I need to call a guy to get your work truck here.

“If you work out this weekend, you may be spending a lot more time here than you did at that rest stop.

“Grunt me your ‘Thank you SIR’… Atta cunt!”

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reasonsforhope · 10 months

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Is it true some parts will be under water in 2025? I'm kinda of worried cause someone told me about it bc it was on the news

Eh, not really. Like, technically, but that's a very dramatic way to put it.

What that person told you about was probably this prediction, which says that some roads on some of the Florida Keys might be underwater by 2025.

Does that suck? Yes. But it's also pretty limited in scope.

(And by the way, that's probably not "underwater all the time." There will probably be a number of years of "the roads will be underwater at high tide specifically." I can't currently find a source on this, but that's how tides work, and the Florida Keys article does specifically mention them as a main problem.)

The areas in danger first are pretty universally small, very low islands. Actually, a dozen or so small islands have already gone underwater in the Pacific Ocean, but very importantly, none of those islands were inhabited.

They were mostly small reef islands (that is, the entire island is exposed coral reef detritus) and other uninhabited shoals. Mostly, they were so small scientists had to check old satellite images to even figure out that they disappeared. Literally, we're talking about chunks of land that are just 100 square meters/300 square feet. Again, not great, but still very limited in scope.

As this Live Science article thankfully explains, it's pretty unlikely that any countries at all will disappear before 2100.

Also, just because land is below sea level doesn't mean it will be underwater, and there are very real steps we can take to defend a lot of endangered cities/islands.

For example:

Much of the Netherlands is already below sea level, but the country isn't disappearing, because the Dutch have put a lot of work into building and maintaining coastal defenses.

Multiple surveys (including the one that found the missing islands in Micronesia) also found that not all low-lying islands are vulnerable to erosion and flooding. This is because many islands are protected by mangrove forests, lagoons, or both

Mangrove reforestation in particular is genuinely a super effective anti-flooding strategy that is being deployed pretty widely, and is expected to increase a lot in the coming years. Mangroves are effective at not only preventing short-term flooding, but also mitigating sea-level increases (in part by preventing erosion)

Some islands, esp Pacific Islands, have actually grown during the past couple decades, not shrunk. It really depends on what the island is made up of. Not all land is automatically doomed

You can read more about how sinking countries are fighting back here, and the lessons we can learn from them:

-via Time, June 13, 2019

And finally, and this is good news for reasons I'll explain in a second:

Some of the largest and wealthiest cities in the world are at the top of the danger list. (Note: the predictions at that link are based on some fairly severe warming predictions. They do NOT necessarily reflect what's going to happen or when.)

The cities that are going to be in danger the soonest (still away btw) include New York, London, San Francisco, Tokyo, and Dubai. Lots of very rich people in those cities! Who would really like to not have to move (any of their ten different homes lol)

So, flooding aside, we're going to (by necessity) get a lot better at figuring out the quickest, cheapest, most scalable, and most effective types of coastal defenses real fast.

Are rich countries going to be way more able to get strong coastal defense systems up quickly? Yes. Does that suck? Sure fucking does!! But these solutions don't all require a lot of money or tech to implement, even at a large scale, especially when it's local communities driving the effort.

And, importantly, when rich countries pour a ton of money into figuring this out, that will hugely expand our understanding of what techniques work best, why, and how best to deploy them in different situations. Unlike physical structures, that's valuable knowledge that can be shared very, very widely.

And any technology that comes out of this is going to work like solar panels and other green energy: as more people use it, it will get cheaper and cheaper. Probably really quickly.

So, all told, no one's going to be swallowed up in the next few years. We have time to work on this and a lot of people are already doing so.

Mostly, experts predict that the first wave of large-scale issues will be happening around 2050.

Three decades doesn't sound like enough time, in the face of something like this. But you know what? Responses to climate change are speeding up exponentially, and different types of responses are multiplying and magnifying each other.

We went from inventing flight to landing on the moon in just 66 years.

I wouldn't count us out of the climate change fight yet.

(...I wouldn't count on retiring to Florida either, though)

#Anonymous #sea level rise #ocean #micronesia #pacific islander #mangrove #flood #flood mitigation #ask #me #hope #it does suck but I also really do think there is hope #this post was supposed to be like 2-3 paragraphs how did it turn into an entire essay #I have too many words disease #too much nuance #hope yall appreciate the extra context lol

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