#well i learned a solid amount from that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farmerstarter · 9 months

Text

The Bachelors on their Wedding Day

Hi Hello have this short list of my little Headcanons of the bachelors on their wedding day. Hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!!🌷🤍

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :

🏈 Fiddles with his tie relentlessly and ends up ruining it. He runs to Evelyn to ask her to tie it up again. The only other thing he fusses over is his hair.

🏈 Alex keeps a rabbit's foot in his pants, wanting all the luck he can get.

🏈 Spent literal days writing his wedding vows. Ends up opting to wing it. It wasn't the most eloquently worded thing you've heard but it was sweet.

🏈 He gave himself a pep talk in his bedroom before the ceremony. You only know about this because George was complaining about how loud he was to you.

🏈 Dusty the dog is the mermaid pendant bearer, I decided.

🏈 Also, the song that plays during the wedding is the same tune from Alex's music box. 🥺

ʚ🪶ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :

🪶Beach wedding. You guys have a beach wedding. You've expressed your interest in one and Elliott, with the eager help of Willy, clean up the beach for your special day. Elliott's shoes would fill with sand but his discomfort is overpowered by his delight when he sees you all dressed up.

🪶 He reads you one (of many) of his poems about you. You later learned that he's got a whole book of poetry about you that he's been writing ever since you two started dating. The poem he read on the wedding day was the very first one and is the first page of the book.

🪶 He spent hours trying to make himself look good. Asking for Leah and Willy's input on what he should wear for a solid 3 hours.

🪶 Aside from him worrying over his appearance, Elliott is more excited than nervous. He's on the verge of creating a new chapter in his life with someone else. Gone are the days of his lonely shack and the empty (well, not as empty since you moved into town) beach. Honestly, to say that he's excited is an understatement.

ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :

🛩️ Gets awfully shy when reading his vows, stuttering his way through his words and being a blushing mess. He has no problem with the one-on-one check up sessions he does with the other villagers of Pelican Town, but to read aloud in front of all of them at once threw him off. But he kept his eyes on you and managed to power through it.

🛩️ He considered shaving off his mustache for the wedding at least twice. But he decided against the idea.

🛩️ Insisted that you eat Farmer's Brunch the morning of the wedding. Even during your wedding day, he wants to make sure you're feeling healthy.

🛩️ Holds your hands throughout the whole ceremony. Whispering apologies for how clammy his hands are.

ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :

🎸 He wrote a whole song about you and played it on your wedding day. He made it a surprise for you and the moments of him hiding his guitar and shoving music sheets under his bed when you visit his room were all starting to make sense to you.

🎸 Couldn't sleep for the whole night before the wedding. He worried over the ceremony and wanted to make it go smoothly. He's not one to meticulously plan every detail, opting to engage in spur of the moment decisions, but he tried his best to make everything as close to perfect as he can get.

🎸 Jodi tried to gel Sam's hair back, but no matter the amount of gel and hours, his hair would always spring back. Sam wasn't a fan of dressing up in a "dorky suit" but he did anyway, for you.

🎸 Sam didn't want to see you until the wedding so he got Vincent to play messenger for the two of you. He wouldn't do it at first but only agreed to do it because he likes you (Cue a dramatic gasp from Sam).

ʚ🐸ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :

🐸 Ends up smiling through the whole ceremony, looking at you with such a brightness in his eyes.

🐸 He isn't one to wear anything fancy. The closest thing he ever wore that is considered formal was the suit that Lewis got him and the rest of the dancers to wear for the Flower Dance. He asks his mom to help him dress up for the wedding, asking her about it while she was building furniture. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it, but he liked watching his mom so happy over something that was so mundane to him. He makes sure to keep the suit in perfect condition throughout the ceremony because of it.

🐸 He tells his very heartfelt wedding vows. And while he does, you could hear the faint "that's good," from Elliott before a grunt, inevitably elbowed on the side by Leah.

🐸 You and him ride on his motorcycle after the wedding. He drives you two to the cliff overlooking the city, the same cliff where he confessed his true feelings to you. Under the full moon, the two of you would look at the stars with Sebastian occasionally pointing at a constellation that Maru taught him to find.

🐸 Consider: winter wedding.

ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :

🐣 Genuinely doesn't believe that you want to marry him. He thinks it's a dream at best and a prank at worst. It wasn't until you were tying his mermaid pendant around his neck for him to know that you do love him. He still has trouble understanding it sometimes.

🐣 Shane asked Marnie to teach him how to waltz for your wedding day. Sure, he's danced in the Flower Dance countless of times but he wanted to learn something new to surprise you. And he did. After dancing with you, he dances with Jas. Well, it's more of Jas standing on Shane's feet while he walks and glides around.

🐣 He gave his chicken, Charlie, a bow tie for the wedding and everything. Even got a picture of you and Shane with the little guy. The picture ends up being hanged on Shane's side of the bedroom for many years to come.

🐣 Has his pocket full of corn chips, let's be honest. He offers one to you before the ceremony starts.

2K notes · View notes

lynnlovesthestars · 6 months

Note

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened.

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory.

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize.

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place.

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you”

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up.

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready”

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no”

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything”

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch.

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission.

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other.

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing.

595 notes · View notes

star-anise · 4 months

Text

now, hold still—

I'd kill for some resources on body image in the context of disability, chronic pain, and having grown up with a complicated and intense medical history. I think I've exhausted my local library's offerings. Yes, I'm seeing a counsellor who focuses on this, and he's probably got recs, but I'm pacing my cage and lashing my tail in between sessions.

"Body image" has a particular connotation most of the time, because it comes out of the field that deals with eating disorders. Which is great and I'm glad for the people it works for, but its basic principles and assumptions are for completely different problems than the one I have.

I can't track down who said it first, but in my reading I keep coming across this narrative of, "I saw my body as something to be disciplined and controlled, an object only seen by external eyes. Now I've learned to take joy in what my body can do and experience, and to see it as a site of pleasure."

...Sounds fake, but okay.

My body is a site of pain. It cannot do or bear the experience of many things. I have to exercise a huge amount of discipline and control just to get out of bed every day. I can't imagine my body being a visible object that other people might find pleasing; it's incredibly hard to look up from my continual tooth-and-nail fight getting my body to let me live to imagine what someone who doesn't live with all this shit might see.

When I was a child, I learned to hold myself very still. For a hairdresser, or photographer, or a dentist, or someone who wanted to measure my height, or an injection, or a doctor who wanted a demonstration of how one of my joints looked, or an X-ray, or an IV inserted, or a CAT scan, or to have a cast taken off, or a PET scan, or to have a wound treated, or an MRI, or to have a pin pulled out.

And you know, I got proud of that. I felt like a brave warrior in a fantasy novel. I learned to take deep breaths, and take myself in my mind away from the anxiety and unpleasantness, until I could shut down my reaction to it. So that I didn't flinch or scream or cry. Because there was something wrong with my body, and doctors knew how to fix it.

When I was getting assessed for fibromyalgia, this new doctor told me he was going palpate areas in my back, arms, and knees. I get a lot of massage; I knew what was coming. I slowed my breathing, concentrating on the long outbreath. I took myself away from my reactions and thought continually, obsessively, about letting my body droop, weightless, like the moment when your aching limbs meet a solid surface and fresh cool sheets.

"Hm, I dunno," he said. "A lot of this checks out, but your trigger point exam was totally negative. Most people, when I touch those points, they have a big reaction. Some people even scream and jump off the table."

"Well, no," I think I said. "If I'd done that, it would have hurt way more, for like, hours." And I was polite about it, because you have to be polite to doctors; doctors know how to make you feel better. But what I felt at the time, and still feel today, is a kind of outrage I labelled was unreasonable the moment it was born: You wanted to hurt me, and it's my fault for not letting you?

How do you learn how to ask for things, when you've taught yourself to lie still and cry quietly because the nurse who said they'd be right back is helping someone who suddenly needs the help more? How do you express yourself, when you've spent your whole life gritting your teeth?

The problems I have about my body are not about being attractive or thin. They are, however, about being small. Learning to cry less, scream less, and ask for less. About feeling like my body is a burden to anyone who comes to know it, and like that's a burden I can't ask other people to take on unless I'm staggering under the weight of it.

Right now, what I've got is this:

Remember, you weren’t the one who made you ashamed, but you are the one who can make you proud. Just practice, practice until you get proud, and once you are proud, keep practicing so you won’t forget. You get proud by practicing.

#staranise original #chronic pain lyfe #gore tw

294 notes · View notes

mixtapedoh · 23 days

Note

How about lonely boy, lee know, and forced proximity?

@eclliipsed — i am thinking of you, specifically while writing this <3

;༊ — lonely boy

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre: fluff, office setting word count: ~3.6k warnings: language, situational stress, han is here stirring the pot, a startling amount of homicide jokes

olive’s notes: a unique challenge of writing lino fic that i did not before account for or even conceptualize is that when i think of said silly little stray kids cat boy, i think of him almost 99% of the time as 'lino' and like 0.9999999999% of the time as 'lee know'. lee minho? you mean the actor? it's not clicking up here, asdfghj. all that's to say, if i make a mistake and call him lino instead of minho, i'm so sorry, feel free to stone me in the square on whatever day is most convenient for you <3.

☄. *. ⋆ lee minho x forced proximity...

— society, as a collective, just loves their 9 to 5, right?

i mean, if it were actually a 9 to fucking 5, maybe you wouldn't be screaming, crying, throwing up, gnawing on the iron bars of your enclosure.

— but haha, as a general rule (collectively agreed upon at some point, or perhaps no one agreed so much as they were browbeaten into submission), more than society loves their 9 to 5, they love their workplace grindset culture.

gotta get those financial gains, amirite?

— which is all to say, you were simply enamoured, quite totally besotted with, completely captivated by and hopelessly devoted to your demanding, grueling, parasitic life-force of an office job.

and people had the gall to say you didn't have romance in your life.

clearly, they hadn't seen the zeal and devotion with which you dedicated yourself to your company issued computer, stacks of files, and white-walled cubicle.

after all, regular hours simply weren't enough for all the worship you had within you — you simply had to have both your mandatory overtime and your Implicitly Dictated and Oh-So-Reasonably Expected overtime hours as well <3 you did want to keep your job after all, and job security is such a silly little thing <3 corporate culture really is just soooo romantic in that regard <3 complete and utter devotion <3 commitment almost pious <3

until you managed to break away from the curse of Living in a Society and could live without bills, debt, responsibilities, more bills, more debt, and the desire for silly little (but financially substantial) hobbies to make this existence of yours worthwhile, your love affair with your job would simply have to stick.

— which made for the perfect little soup you were currently mired in. a thick broth of learned helplessness seasoned with intense loathing, a dash of interest in low stakes coworker drama, a sprinkling of compulsory people pleasing, a garnish of yes man energy, and an optional mix-in of untapped, constantly simmering rage.

so, of course you were best friends with han jisung.

— the universe really did do you a solid when they placed han jisung in the cubicle next to you.

perhaps the only employee that hadn't succumbed to the incessant humanity-sucking leech affectionately called a company, jisung was the only one who kept you sane when you were 56 hours deep in your work week and considering moving to a homestead on alaska where you would likely not even last a whole 72 hours — but, hey, you would at least get some sleep at the end of it when succumbing to the effects of hypothermia, so it didn't seem that bad of a gig, really (jisung always offered to cover half of the down payment cost, but at the end of the conversation, he'd just buy you a coffee and the two of you would call it even).

— and being friends with jisung was, all at once, both a blessing and a curse.

(because this is corporate living and existence is a fucking nightmare ~°~♫⭒~꘎ )

— poor excuses for jokes in your company chat box, sticky note battles during days when the mundane tasks you were assigned were mind-numbing enough to fell the strongest of corporate warriors, the constant "i owe you" back and forth when one of you went on a coffee or vending machine run and grabbed something for the other, and, of course, juicy gossip during your lunch break — all of these were the positives of being jisung's partner in captalist crime.

— but on the other hand, should either of your work be wanting in any regard... well... accountability is a word long enough to stretch between two.

— which led you to your current state of affairs.

"the next time you forget to delete your 'tongue-in-cheek' speaker notes on the powerpoint we're submitting for review from higher ups, i'm breaking your fingers so you can't type them in the first place."

but of course jisung just turns it into a joke about a hand kink.

— your punishment for 'distasteful' jokes left in the margins of official company output wasn't anything too severe — bless whatever cosmic force made it so that the generally easy going mr. ok taecyeon was the one to see jisung's fuck up, and not someone less forgiving — but it meant the next few weeks would be hell in the form of grunt work.

see, your company was expanding in the industry, and it meant that the building you were currently working in wasn't big enough to house all the ✨aspirational goals✨ it was just starting to believe in. thus, the majority of higher ups were going to move into a new office building... and for some ass-backward reason, so, too were all of the archives.

and someone had to go down there and box it all up, making sure it was properly labeled and in order.

sure, the company was just head-empty enough to have the desire to move physical archives to a new office building. but at least they wanted it all in order before they stuck it in a different dusty basement.

— the very first day you went to the basement and saw the sheer level of work the two of you had in store, you locked eyes with jisung and just knew that fucker was going to find some way to get out of it.

— on your lunch break you tried to beat him to the punch and defend your honor against the soul crushing weight of undue punishment. but alas! you had already taken vacation days in the last month (damn that kpop concert - did you really have to be that devoted to your ult group??) and han hadn't had a day off for the last 6 months.

how the hell did you end up doing the punishment work for actions that weren't even (mostly) yours?

han jisung better move to that alaskan homestead after all, nowhere else would ever be safe from your wrath... once you got out of this basement, of course.

— the most you were given was help in the form of lee minho — who would have thought that he of all people would be your saving grace?

maybe he'd help you plan jisung's murder. they were friends, true, but anyone who was around han long enough would not be opposed to plitting his demise. it was part of his elusive charm, after all. everything wonderful about him also lent itself to fodder for plotting his demise.

convenient, really, given the circumstances you were in.

— but back to lee minho. perfect performance lee minho. always last to leave the office lee minho. infuriatingly not suffering from looking chronically fatigued or daunted, overwhelmed, or simply fazed by the overzealous work culture you found yourselves in, lee minho. curt and focused but lacking of an edge that would make him unapproachable lee minho. impossible to pin down, the vitruvian man of corporate dreams, somehow the bosses favorite despite failing to do any of the sucking up some of your other coworkers engaged in almost religiously lee minho.

he didn't frustrate you; he didn't even really baffle you, but he didn't exactly occupy your brainspace in a way that could be described as indifference, y'know?

maybe this was something you could blame of jisung, too. he always talked about minho an ungodly amount, waxed poetic about how it was a shame that minho worked in a different department — how the two of you really would get along famously, but damn, if he couldn't convince either of you to spend any of your (perhaps two (2)) hours of off-duty life in the same place at the same time.

social lives, after all, were laughable, where the both of you were concerned.

— the day you walked down there and saw minho already elbow deep in a filing cabinet seemingly older than your parents (which, lamentably, was the worst organized filing cabinet you'd ever seen, and was regrettably representative of 95% of the work ahead of you), you laughed out loud and took the moment to convince minho to take a picture for you, so you could tell jisung that he was missing the Historic and Long Anticipated Meet Up, and that was the moment you realized that you were so deep in the basement, phone service was a pipe dream.

it wasn't a concern, really — you were both benefiting from the random employee benefit of free spotify premium, so your downloaded content was enough to get you through the long hours of organizing and packing, and hey! being in the basement meant no one really expected any more out of you than your required hours and whatever mandatory overtime you had left to complete.

— so really, jisung had been stupid as hell to avoid this punishment. it was effectively less work than you were used to (though tedious) and you were far enough away from your desk that the thought of the work piling up in the world above wasn't eating at you that much (at least not any more than usual; workplace anxiety and you were well acquainted, at that point <3)

— and minho! — god forbid you say anything complementary about that bastard han jisung while he left you (more than) 6 feet under, doing work that was, by many rights, his punishment — but he had been right when he said you and minho would gel.

he didn't disturb you, for the most part, but working in the same space for full work days with nothing to do but listen to podcasts and check the dates on dusty files meant that Annoying The Only Other Person In Your Vicinity became a welcome distraction from wallowing in the fact you were moving at a pace slower than desired. and he responded quite well to any question you threw his way - no matter how brain-dead, invasive, or embarrassing. in fact, he'd hit something back - put the ball in your court in a question almost more ridiculous, leaving you to question how jisung hadn't forced the two of you together sooner (but fuck jisung; all my homies are blaming this comedy of errors on jisung and are in this basement actively plotting his demise).

— and it didn't take you long to realize charming minho is almost exactly like getting a neighborhood cat to endear itself to you.

pspspsps at random (bat a stupid ass joke his way);

give him space but respond to his random bids for attention;

have a snack drawer (one of the first emptied out file cabinets furthest to the back of the archival area) and occasionally offer something sweet as a reminder that the snack drawer exists and is for joint indulging;

entertain him with logic puzzles and psychological warfare;

and, of course, shit talk your coworkers and company.

indulge the cats desire for destruction and mayhem; tell minho that whenever he was ready to put in his two-weeks, you'd be right there beside him and would run the paper shredder all night while he corrupted the files.

exist calmly and comfortable in the cat's space; work so well in tandem that you began anticipating the movements of the other.

spend quality time with the cat; both of you begining to wordlessly take your lunches at the table in the archival basement, instead of going all the way back up to the cafeteria, choosing instead to chat with each other and indulge in the other's niche interests and stupidly staunch opinions on poor pieces of media.

slow blink at the cat; catch yourself staring for a bit too long when he doesn't notice you looking, your thoughts getting all muffled and sappy as you become wholly fascinated by the slope of his nose and the softness of his big, dark eyes that look perpetually half-bored at work but sparkle with intelligence and mischief when you call out his name — lighting up with interest and disguised delight as that lazy, gummy smile makes it's way onto his features, eyebrows quirking upward, already expecting a challenge and...

— wait... what was that?

— is there absestos in the company walls, and that's why they decided to randomly move buildings? is there lead lining these filing cabinets? black mold in the ceiling? were you perhaps inhaling narcotics in this dusty ass air and hallucinating something vivid?

you were not developing a crush on someone just because you were stuck in the basement with this fool for going on two weeks now and hadn't seen another good looking coworker in quite some time. this wasn't some kind of drama where the ceo has a strange delight in forcing company employees into situations laced with ✨sexual tension✨. you weren't a main lead suffering from romantic withdrawals. remember your leech of a company. you have no time for shit like that.

— but, i mean, if you're never out of the office, perhaps finding romance in office is a solution...

shut the fuck up, you and minho weren't even in the same department. that point was moot.

— because damn, maybe asbestosis really was getting to you, and that's what was knocking the wind out of you any time minho smiled. yes, certainly the absestos in the walls was what was informing the way your heart constricted whenever the two of you brushed hands passing a file between you. maybe you should sue your company and have some hospital use you as a case study. maybe all the distracted daydreams was a new symptom of your newly contracted deadly disease.

see, that would make sense. you weren't catching a mean case of crushing on your forced proximity coworker, you were simply dying. because of the absestos.

— but even still, the day both of you piled all the boxes of (appropriately lableled) filing into a work car, and minho drove you over to the new building, the fresh air didn't seem to be a cure all. you were still a little more than distracted by his messy hair and black sunglasses... his concentration on the road... his pushed up sleeves... not to mention his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

(but of course you'd snap out of your thoughts when you remember that joke jisung made about your supposed hand kink at the beginning of all this nonsense. shut the fuck up, memory ghost jisung. you don't know shit. you and minho had already talked about it and were coming for his broke ass the day he had the courage to step foot in the office again.)

— yeah, haha, you weren't crushing on lee minho because of a comedy of errors you had never dreamed would befall you in the first place. working alongside him hadn't woken anything in you. certainly not.

— and yeah, haha, you'd definitely be able to hide this from jisung when he came back. not a problem at all when he asks you about how sorting archives went (he had the gall to bring it up every five minutes — taunting you with the fact that he got to have 4 days off and was then reassigned to do answer all the emails that had piled up during his time out of office. yes, he had picked up some of the work originally meant to go to you, but still. a veritable traitor who deserved your absence from your usual lunch dates. and yes, it was hard to be slick when he'd bring up your casual absence from lunch — were you finding minho's company to be more than enough? — but you'd manage. like hell were you going to give the smug bastard satisfaction after he made you atone for his and also your crimes.).

— and yeah, haha, you'd would definitely be able to explain to a suspicious and put out jisung why you were canceling anime re-run night with him to instead go with minho to this hybrid cat-and-comic-book-cafe he had mentioned never being able to get a reservation for, despite living two blocks away from it. silly little things like that would be easy to wave away, right.

it's like, totally platonic for you and minho to meet up on your only day off to spend hours lounging at a cafe retreat together where you cooed at semi-sociable cats and joked about adopting and co-parenting the one who enjoyed wearing cute hats, and read comic books for hours and order food to share and have low-stakes debates about the best tropes and characters of shared beloved media.

it's not like that whole set up is incredibly date coded.

and it's not like it would become a recurring habit for minho to invite you to do things with him that would have jisung waggling his eyebrows even as you pleaded innocence and smacked him with whatever quasi-weapon you just so happened to have on your desk (mostly file folders and your favorite cat themed mini calendar).

— haha... it wasn't like you were down bad and incredibly bad at hiding your crush.

...right?

— you fool. you absolute buffoon. han jisung could smell your lies and poorly contained crush from thousands of leagues away. even if you weren't shit at hiding it, he would have known. he could have actually been on that remote homestead in alaska and still picked up on just how brain dead you were over your crush. you thought you were slick? when han jisung has a doctorate in anxious suspicion and twelve master's degrees in the art of bullshitting?

hell, he knew you were going to fall in love with minho before the two of you even met. why do you think he'd wanted to connect the two of you in the first place? because he thought you two needed a social life? please — he knew going in that putting the two of you in the same room was horrible for his self preservation; he knew it was practically undermining company goals because your joint productivity would fall 2000% and the amount of cat memes you two would send on company time would increase so exponentially, you'd both resort to making your own memes using your company paid subscription to adobe creative cloud; he knew that the two of you were almost scarily well matched and equally devoted to drinking your refusal-to-believe-i-can-be-loved-romantically juice.

he knew that you and minho would develop glaring crushes on each other and wouldn't do a damn thing about it beyond smoothly flirting for an afternoon, inviting the other out on dates-that-aren't-dates and promptly fake-gagging and denying in a manner almost theatric that you might *gasp* enjoy the other's company in a way not-so-platonic, only to do it all over again. a vicious cycle of 'stop feeding the rest of us lies and just kiss with tongue already, damnit.' and he knew all of your coworkers would be caught in the middle of it.

— which they were. for, like, a solid five months.

— now, it wasn't too bad, considering the fact that you and minho worked in different departments, but anytime there was cause for collaboration, suddenly you were clambering to be considered, no matter the intense workload or the way the task was slightly out of your wheelhouse. suddenly, it seemed you were incredibly eager to learn and prove yourself.

at first, your team leader was overjoyed. initiative? drive? a seeming zest and fire for more commitment? say less and do more! marry yourself to the dumbass collaboration with the other department! perhaps this could mean freedom for their long suffering servitude under the corporate thumb!

but then they saw you flirting with minho and making plans to spend an afternoon together at a book signing while still on the clock. and while they're not opposed to a bit of misuse of company time (vive la révolution contre les régimes capitalistes, and all that), it was a bitter and sobering pill to watch that shit happen daily while not getting any yourself, and then stomaching the fact that these clearlly love-struck fuckers won't admit their own transparency-set-to-0% feelings and put their chronically-single corporately-suffering coworkers to rest. either say you're in love and just be done with it or take the rest of us out with a shot gun. goddamn.

it's like a sitcom's mind-numbingly over-the-top valentine's day special. someone make it stop.

— and it didn't take a genius to connect the dots and realize that the employee responsible for all of this was han jisung.

after all, he's the mutual friend between them. no doubt he talked about the other constantly in glowing terms. no doubt he planted the seed they'd be a match made in heaven. no doubt he was the one to blame.

and! wasn't it his fuck up that forced you and minho to work together in the archives to begin with?

maybe killing han jisung wasn't going to make you and minho confess to each other, but it would be some kind of catharsis for the people who were stuck in this hell of Watching You Two Take Your Sweet Time With It.

— so jisung had to understandably think of some kind of plot. after all, the two of you were his best friends, but to hope that you would admit your feelings for someone to save his livelihood? don't be ridiculous. the both of you were quite happy with the flirting stage, as it currently stood.

— how to get your stubborn friends to admit their (very real and very reciprocated) feelings for each other... when there's no external or even internal pressure (on them, at least) to do so... jisung would have to think outside of the box.

or perhaps inside of it.

— which i'm sure is reason enough to explain how the both of you managed to get stuck in a closet during your company's holiday party.

and, through it all, is minho's mischievous eyes and your flair for the dramatic.

"do you think we should tell our coworkers we've been dating?"

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

#olive.writes #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know imagine #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #yeah i still dk fully how to tag but hey; my other headcanon set did good so maybe i'm doing something right #also hi please tell me if you've ever been personally attacked by nosy coworkers and what your coping strategy is #mine is also compulsory and pathologically lying so i feel like lino and i understand each other that much at least

129 notes · View notes

syrupfog · 8 days

Text

Law thinks he has it figured out.

That scrawny kid who just wandered into the university’s yearly flu vaccine clinic Law was manning and just DECIDED that Law was his new best friend— Luffy, he said his name was. Monkey D. Luffy, as if anyone could take that name seriously.

Law thinks he’s figured it out, though. How Luffy CHOOSES the people he does, and adds them to his group.

(not that Law is IN his group, absolutely not).

Sanji’s the most obvious one. He’s INCREDIBLY useful, no one could deny that. He cooks obscene amounts of food for everyone.

Nami, too, feels like a given. She has CONNECTIONS, knows how to use them, keeps records and receipts and organizes all the parties that Luffy spontaneously seems to decide on. She’s the brains.

Zoro Law struggled with at first, the man seems to just think about swords—

but seeing them out in public, Law realizes he’s like a human guard dog, leering over Luffy’s shoulder at anyone who disagrees. Chopper seems a little young— is the kid even in undergrad?— but he’s first aid trained and Law’s seen him put it to use on numerous occasions already.

Now Nico Robin— how on EARTH Luffy managed to make friends with the youngest tenured professor GLU has ever had is beyond Law, but she has connections in academia the way Nami does on the streets. Law would bet money that Robin’s the only reason Luffy is still enrolled.

Usopp’s an odd one, but he’s… well, funny might not be exactly the right word. Entertaining. And more importantly can fix anyone’s computer or phone within an hour. He adds weird features when he does, but his work is solid.

Franky is a GIVEN, he’s the one with the converted old double decker bus — Law didn’t think they even HAD those here — and auto garage. Luffy says the word and he’ll fix anyone’s car free of charge. It’s ridiculous what Luffy can get people to do.

Brook is also obvious. Most famous musician this side of the East Blue, how on EARTH did Luffy meet him? Regardless, the man’s surely a millionaire slumming it with the rest of them for the chance to play what he wants to play and be appreciated for it

Jinbei was confusing until Law learned how they met — that protest that Luffy (along with half his crew) were arrested at last semester. Professor Emeritus in the law department, he was once famous for organizing protests around campus, and eagerly bailed them all out.

So, Law’s figured it out. As much as Luffy SEEMS like a carefree brainless soul, he’s been strategic from the very first step, surrounding himself with everyone he needs to stay on top. He’s incredibly devious, honestly, Law’s almost intimidated.

He also knows that this means he doesn’t have a place among them.

As much as he’s always planned on being a surgeon, things just don’t work out sometimes. Like when your adopted uncle frames your adopted father for tax fraud and make it look like HE’S a millionaire—

Meaning you suddenly end up with a dad in jail AND getting rejected for FAFSA. No money, no loans, one single scholarship that Law’s about to be dropped from. Sorry Luffy, you’re going to have to find a surgeon somewhere else. Chopper will be good enough, surely.

He tries to separate himself from Luffy, but that’s easier said than done, as Luffy sticks to him like glue when they’re in the same place. The man’s incorrigible, impossible, guileless, brazen…

Law ends up yelling at him in the middle of a party thrown at Jinbei’s house.

Shouts that he’s dropping out, failing, not going to live up to whatever role Luffy’s recruited him to fill. Tells him to find another surgeon, they’re a dime a dozen on med campus anyway. Storms out before he does something dumb like tear up.

Oddly enough it’s Usopp who follows him.

He sits down next to Law, looking stiff and uncomfortable, and declares that he “knows what Law’s going through”, which feels, well, patently untrue.

“I did this like a year ago,” Usopp says. “Tried to tell him to drop me.”

They’re sitting on the curb. Law scrunches grass between his fingers and stares at the road.

“I had a car,” Usopp says. “She was BEAUTIFUL. Best car you’ve ever seen. Two hundred miles to the gallon and ran on French fry grease.”

Ah, this is one of those stories.

Usopp deflates. “Then she died,” he says. “We’d just met Franky and he told me she was beyond repair. Then he offered up that bus he has, replacing her before she was even in the ground yet! And like, I’m not going to say he was replacing ME, but like—“

Law nods.

“It’s not like I had a lot going for me anyway,” Usopp says. “Not compared to Nami or Sanji or Chopper. I thought I was just lucky Luffy found me early, when his standards were lower.” He laughs, but there’s no joy behind it.

“Anyway,” he picks at the laces of his shoes. “That car’s at the bottom of a lake now, may she rest in peace. And after I tried to pull what you just pulled, Luffy really fucking let me have it.” He ducks his head. “Told me I was being fucking stupid, and he was right.”

He glances up at the sky and Law watches, a queasy feeling in the base of his stomach.

“Turns out,” Usopp says after a long pause, “Luffy really does just choose people he likes.” He sighs. “You’re just lucky, actually, because I don’t think he’s liked anyone as much as you.”

Law grimaces. He doesn’t FEEL lucky.

Usopp, taking his queue, stands up. “The sooner you admit what you’re dealing with, though, the more he’s able to help.”

Then he leaves Law alone.

And Law… finds he doesn’t want to BE alone.

He slinks back into the party maybe twenty minutes later. It’s chill. Brook is taking song requests. Sanji is handing out grilled halloumi.

Luffy immediately walks up to him. “Why didn’t you TELL ME,” he asks, indignant.

“What, that my life is a mess?”

“Everyone’s life is a mess, silly,” Luffy says. “But we can HELP, duh.”

“I think even YOU can’t keep me from getting kicked out of GLU,” Law says.

“No,” Luffy agrees. “But HE can.”

He points to Jinbei, sitting at an old yellowed desktop computer in the corner.

“I have friends in the law department who haven’t retired yet,” Jinbei says. He has small spectacles perched on his nose. “They know people. Sending a few emails now.”

Chopper walks up to the two of them, looking shy. “I can help you study,” he says. “N-not that you need it!”

Nico Robin comes over, cocktails in each hand, pushing one of them into his. “Student services is accommodating,” she says. “If you know who to ask.”

“YOW!” Shouts Franky from the couch. “And I just hacked their system and changed your grades!”

Law chokes on his drink.

“SEE?” Luffy huffs, crossing his arms. “It’s FINE. You freaked out for nothing!”

Law squints at him. “And if it’s not fine, Luffy-ya? If none of this helps and I still fail out of school?”

Luffy purses his lips. “Duh, then you can just come live with me.“

He looks incredibly petulant. “It’s not like I like you BECAUSE you’re a surgeon. I like you because I asked for two of every shot and you said I’d have to choose a fake name instead of telling me no!”

Ah. He did do that, didn’t he.

“And anyway, *i* don’t have a degree and I’m fine!”

“You’re GETTING one,” Law points out.

Luffy looks at him like he’s lost it. “I attend classes because they’re fun,” he says. “I don’t even have a high school degree, I don’t care about that stuff.”

…huh.

“Now come on,” Luffy says, wrapping small boney fingers around Law’s wrist. Zoro’s going to play snooker with me and I need you to watch to make sure he doesn’t cheat, because I don’t know the rules.”

And Law follows him.

And follows him.

And when he starts his next semester with his dad out of jail because Jinbei’s connections are honestly a little scary, and when he doesn’t sleep for three days in a row during finals week, and when he gets into the exact fellowship he wants, working under Marco himself—

Law follows Luffy.

Because nothing else makes sense.

Law hasn’t figured Luffy out at all But he’s figured everyone else out. Understands the magnetism they’re all drawn to.

And when he falls into bed with Luffy at the end of long days and weeks, He knows he’s the lucky one.

#lulaw #lawlu #my writing

75 notes · View notes

edith-is-a-cat · 6 months

Text

Malleus Draconia x GN!Reader (No pronouns used or mentioned, can been seen as romantic and/or platonic, and written in second person)

Word count: 651 TLDR: Showing Malleus Howl's Moving Castle with a side of some sad thoughts. Comments: I honestly think Malleus would love Howl's Moving Castle. I may be bias because it is my favorite movie..

You are sitting in Ramshackle after the events of Idia's overblot, still having so many memories of previous ones on your mind. You're laying on the couch trying to think of what to do to take you away from the intruding thoughts of what could go wrong next. Grim is already asleep even though it just barely hit sundown. You decide to take a walk.

You throw on an old hoodie from when you first arrived, it gets surprisingly cold in Wonderland at night. Just when your hand meets the cool metal of the doorknob three solid knocks are heard from the other side. You twist the knob slowly creaking it open just enough to see who is there. Surprisingly, the figure was familiar, looming and almost eerie in the low lighting, Malleus Draconia. "Greetings, child of man." the still shrouded figure softly spoke, as if he could spook you, "May I come in?" You nodded as you opened the door for him. Why not, company could be better than a walk to shut your nagging and anxiety filled thoughts up. Your eyes follow Malleus as he walked around like he knew this places as well as the back of his hand. You invite him to sit down in the lounge while you go back to rummage in your room for anything to entertain the prince with. You carefully sift through your belongs that have been mostly in your room's closet ever since you arrived. As luck would have it you were going to a sleep over when you were almost ran over by that damned carriage. You wonder if your friends worried where you went... you stop your thoughts right there. No time to worriedly wonder about your presence back on Earth, you had a guest over. You continue to rifle through your closet when you reach into the bottom of your old backpack for your hand to hit something hard. You pull it out to see it was a DVD copy of Howl's Moving Castle. Score! you found at least something to show him, hopefully he will take an interest in it. You shake off any dust that might have gathered on it, you were going to watch it at that sleep over. If Malleus was to stay the night then you guess its quest would be fulfilled. Either way it would be fun showing him something from your world. You go back to the lounge with your prize from the hunt in hand. Holding it up like a certain lion cub. You look to Malleus, who sits perched on the couch, for any comment. He cocks his head as he softly asks, "If I may ask, what may you be holding?" "Movie, from my world." You proudly say as you beeline over to the TV and all the tech stuff you got as an apology for what happened with the last overblot. You have to take a minute to look around the TV and figure out which gadget would work with what gizmo. After a taking an almost saddening amount of time turning on everything, you grab the remote from it's spot on the TV cabinet. You then turn and take your spot by Malleus. You finick with the remote until you can finally get the correct setting to work the TV. Malleus looks at you with pity but decides it's better for you to learn by yourself. You eventually figure out how to work most of the remote and have satisfied yourself with the setting enough to finally play the movie. "I really think you are going to like this" you chirp as you lean back into the couch. The prince silently nods as he intently watches the the TV. Oh, only if you knew what you had done. He did not stop talking about it for weeks, even suggested commissioning a gargoyle of Howl's bird form.

Ending comment: Uhm! Hi!! thank you for reading.. I wrote this in Auburn's inbox and though "eh I'll post it too"

#twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #I still don't know how to tag this #silly little bear tries to write :]

147 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 7 months

Note

Greetings! I truly enjoy your writing, and I would like to see more of the Tim/Kon soulmates AU, if you feel like it!

Thank you! I do have a bit more of it lying around, sooooo . . .

Continued from here, for anyone who needs the setup.

It's early morning in Honolulu and Tim is very, very tired. He didn't sleep on the flight because he was making plans, but to be honest said plans are all shit. His best option is gonna take six months to fully execute, for starters. Which is a reasonable amount of time to have to spend getting a near-complete stranger to trust you enough to let you kidnap them away from everything and everyone they know, he knows, but still. It's not even that solid a plan, even discounting the frustrating time delay. It's just the best of a bad lot.

Maybe Tim should've, like . . . actually stopped long enough to tell Bruce what he was doing and get some advice. Or at least Alfred, anyway.

Just . . . it's fine, Tim tells himself as he and his go-bag get a taxi. This is just preliminary work anyway. Recon more than anything else. Ideally he'll manage to "meet" Superboy, but he's not dumb enough to think he's going to get the guy to like him this quick, much less trust him. The goal is "passing awareness of his civilian identity's existence" and nothing else.

Then the street kind of blows up in front of his taxi.

So that's a whole thing.

And here's Tim without so much as a damn domino in his pocket.

People are screaming, things are very literally on fire, and some rando in lycra is yelling at the cop car on the corner. Normal Tuesday, really, except it's broad fucking daylight and again Tim doesn't have a mask on him, much less his bo staff or utility belt or anything actually any kind of useful.

Fuck airport security, Tim thinks.

"Who's the jerk with the monologue?" he asks the driver, who seems largely nonplussed by the whole situation and has definitely left the meter running while they're trapped between the other cars and the blown-up street. Priorities, Tim guesses. Can't blame a guy for having them.

"Beats me, man," the driver says with a shrug. "I don't keep track of the spandex set, I just take the necessary detours around 'em when I'm working."

"That might be lycra," Tim says, reaching for his wallet. "But fair enough. How much do I owe you?"

He doesn't have a mask right now, no, but he can't just leave civilians unprotected. He can at least help people get out of the area and maybe distract the lycra rando for a bit, if it comes to it. If nothing else, he can–

Somebody in flashy red and blue and a black leather jacket crash-lands on top of the lycra rando with very deliberate flair, and then the street blows up again.

This time, though, the explosion is definitely telekinetic in origin.

Specifically tactile telekinetic, Tim thinks it's safe to assume.

He pays the driver, then grabs his go-bag and gets to getting people out of the area as subtly as possible while Superboy and the lycra rando tear up the street even worse. Like, almost impressively worse. Tim really wouldn't have thought the damage could even get that much worse, but they both find a way.

He is going to have such a hard time convincing Bruce to let him drag Superboy to Gotham.

Well, it's a six-month plan. Maybe the guy will mellow out a bit somewhere in there. Learn some subtlety. Pick up a bit of finesse.

Tim isn't actually that delusional, obviously, but that's the lie he's gonna tell Batman.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #dc robin #superboy #elf-kid2 #rinfic #wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit

235 notes · View notes

ofcowardiceandkings · 8 months

Text

companion piece of young Link

AAHH i finally finished something :'D

i've uh had some very specific Thoughts about Zelda's childhood for a while now so its about time i put them to paper - this is actually round TWO since the original doodles are lost to ... somewhere ... i like these second editions better though so alls well that ends well

we're looking at ages around 4, 7 and 10 years old here touchin bugs in the dirt, archery practice, and playing a lyre ;w;

more detailed Thoughts under the cut 💙

iiitssss customary ranting about my BotW/TotK opinions tiiiimeeee welcome my darlingsss jfkdjfkd 💙

i had a much more solid idea about where i was going with Zelda than with Link but some of it is kinda abstract or weird lol

we know a fair amount about her upbringing in general, or can infer as much from Zelda's interactions with her father and what they and people around them wrote. she was clearly a smart and vivacious kid with a strong personality from the start, no matter how much you sort of squash that shit for the public face, repression etc. so yknow, her mother's death when she was 6, awful. her father's change in attitude especially in her teens, awful. being under public scrutiny her whole life, awful. restrictive structure of royal life, dull (i bet it bored Zelda to death at times no matter how strongly duty-oriented she is). having said that though, she got by and just by looking at her study, she clearly got stuff done to herself - you can take the kid away from the science but the science stays with the kid !!!

additionally, forgive me for mentioning ... timelines ... but in my humble onion, BotW/TotK serve as a Dragon-Break scenario which are SO far in the future from other entries that ALL timelines will inevitably converge and lead to that point, so it doesnt matter any more (i dont like extended Timeline theory, Nindooty doesnt like extended Timeline theory, the current writing team seem to want shot of it, let me be). being a history guy i also subscribe to leaning on the LEGEND aspect of 100 and 1000 year games of telephone, it makes things spicy. tradition is a strange thing, we do things we dont have much of a context for anymore, we're still living with the cultural hangovers of people living when mammoths were around and no thats not hyperbole lol its WILD. ive typed around the point enough lets get going

she was a bugs girl !!!! she still IS a bugs girl lmao but if our 16 year old girlie is gonna pounce on frogs apropos of nothing, that 4 year old girlie is gonna go catch bugs in the Royal Gardens and freak out her maids or escorts with them, good for her 💅

the other two are where my timeline thing comes in; the triforce is never mentioned by name, its just there in symbolism ?? something about the blood of the goddess ?? divine sealing powers ??? no one knows in the same vein, i like to think that its traditional for Hylian Princesses to learn archery and play a lyre or harp ... but no one remembers quite WHY ?? so Zelda does. the Priestess-Princess* role means the public is aware that Zelda had formal singing training, but its not really common knowledge outside of the Castle that the Royal Girls do THIS (no one knows why that part is important either, but it stays in the Castle). she might be a little out of practice now, but give that muscle memory enough time and she might be able to really surprise people.

*this is part of the Japanese translation, at least in Kass' final song Zelda is referred to as an term roughly meaning Priestess-Princess - which makes total sense to me

ohhh my god i talked a lot okay i just love my gorl fhjdkfjdk

actual footage of me explaining my shit and going way long

#tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #botw zelda #totk zelda #totk fanart #botw fanart #loz zelda #botw/totk #pilots doodles #botw/totk blogging #zelda blogging #rory's ramblings

194 notes · View notes

clangenrising · 2 months

Text

Month 12 - Leafbare

Time was hard to hold onto these days. Scorch blinked and suddenly spring had arrived, cautiously thawing out the gardens and poking its flowers up through the soil. If she thought back, she could remember that she had spent the time studying to become an interpreter in between visits from Razor but the actual experiences of those moments tended to feel fuzzy and loose. She was grateful that she somehow managed to hold onto the knowledge of interpreting.

The act fascinated her. Each Name Charm was marked with symbols that the Folk used to convey meaning and slowly, she was learning to interpret it. Confined in her house as she was, Portia wasn’t able to do much teaching so she had put a young molly named Marmalade in charge of teaching Scorch how to understand the symbols.

Marmalade took Scorch through the neighborhood, usually with another cat along to ‘escort’, and showed her the symbols in different places. Now that they were pointed out to her, Scorch couldn’t stop seeing them. They were on the corner poles and the fronts of houses and the sides of cars and nearly every wall in the downtown area had some cluster of them somewhere. Marmalade would teach her what they said and then teach her how each symbol made up a piece of the meaning. She learned how to recognize the individual symbols wherever they appeared in the clusters and how there were two versions of each symbol for some reason.

It was honestly exciting. She couldn’t believe that all her life there had been meaning spread across the surface of the world and she hadn’t even known. When she was at home, when time was the most solid, she would wander around, discovering all of the different symbols in her home and trying to interpret them. They were everywhere, on the food boxes and her dish and flashing across the magic window that her Folk would watch and the pages in the kits’ rooms and the warm thing the adult human pawed at on her lap and even though Scorch didn’t know what some of the words meant, she knew their pieces and that felt like power.

It wasn’t power that helped her much, though. Being an Interpreter did come with a certain amount of prestige. She and Marmalade were sometimes sent to deliver blessings from the Folk. They would go to cats who were ill in their homes or to new mothers and their kittens and bestow gifts upon them. Cats always thanked them and looked up at them with worshipful gazes. They parted to allow them through. Chaff asked them for blessings as they passed and thanked them profusely when Marmalade bid them “be well.” Yes, there was definitely power there, but it never did anything to get rid of the babysitters that followed her everywhere she went.

And it never stopped Razor from calling on her.

Today, after an Interpreters’ meeting in Portia’s garden, he had arrived to collect her, all toothy smiles and pet names and suffocating touches. She purred and fell in beside him and let go of her grasp on time. He’d invited her to accompany him to another meeting, this one about the warfront, and she had agreed.

Now she found herself draped against his side as he lounged in the grass of his own backyard. Several toms sat around in a circle, discussing strategy. All of them, except for Ghost, were Exalted.

“Hunting operations are continuing as planned,” Oreo was saying. “We’ll have to increase our presence, though, if we want to account for spring prey numbers.”

“Do you think we’ll still be able to starve them out?” Razor asked thoughtfully.

“I do,” Oreo nodded. “The Chaff are hungry enough, the only problem is the risk of getting attacked by wild cats. We need to find a way to make it seem like the threat is minimal if we want them hunting in droves.”

Ghost cleared his throat and said, “From what my cats have been saying, most encounters can end without bloodshed as long as we don’t antagonize the Clans. If a cat apologizes and leaves they’ll get a torn ear at most. If you’d like, I can spread the word about-”

“No,” Razor rumbled darkly and Scorch felt her throat tighten. “No, we’re not going to teach the Chaff that they should run from these savages. We won’t show weakness like that when that territory is our right.”

“But, sir,” Ghost shifted uncomfortably, “most of my cats aren’t fighters.”

“Then pair them with fighters,” Razor said as if it were obvious. “If they need protection, give it to them.”

Ghost’s throat labored for a moment before he said, “Yes, sir.”

“I think it might also be a good idea to take a more proactive approach,” said Sardine, a younger tom who had only recently been allowed into these kinds of meetings. “You know what they say: the best defense is a good offense.”

Razor smiled and nodded in his direction. “I’m listening.” Scorch listened too, with bated breath.

Sardine continued. “Part of the reason the Slaughter of Sycamore was such a decisive loss was because our position wasn’t easily defensible. The wild cats had the home turf advantage and, given their surprisingly large numbers, I reason they must have had somewhere to organize themselves before the attack. If we could take that location for ourselves, we would have a much stronger foothold from which to orchestrate our campaign. We could even move a number of chaff to the front full time.”

Scorch repressed a shiver as the image of Razor and his followers carving their way through RisingClan’s camp flashed through her mind. The calm, detached manner in which Sardine said it rubbed her fur the wrong way. It was almost like he didn’t care that he was toying with the lives of cats on both sides.

“And how would you propose we do that?” frowned Tiger, his muscles rippling under his pelt as he shifted forward. “We have no idea how far that location might be and clearly inching our way bit by bit doesn’t work.”

“It could,” Oreo countered. “Another big reason we lost that battle was because of the snow storm and we’ll have all summer to retake that ground.”

“We’ll still be out in the open,” Tiger growled. “I don’t like it.”

“Please,” Razor said, his chest rumbling smoothly against Scorch’s side, “I’m sure Sardine has a plan. Don’t you?” He tilted his head to regard the young cat and Scorch heard the familiar undertone in his voice that said ‘this is a test.’

Sardine smiled and said, “I do. I propose we form strike teams of three to six cats and wait for the ‘border patrols’ to come by then kill as many cats as we can.” Scorch swallowed. “Soon enough, their numbers will weaken and falter and we will be able to find and clear out one of their bases and take it for our own, thus acquiring a proper encampment from which to stage our own assault.”

“Not a bad strategy,” Razor complimented and one of Sardine’s ears twitched in satisfaction. “What do we think, boys?” He looked around the circle, one brow raised. Scorch did likewise, trying to keep her expression passive as she judged their reactions.

“It could work…” Oreo hummed skeptically.

Ghost shifted, a grimace on his face, and said, “This all assumes that they have a fortified location we could use. There’s no way to know if that's the case. They could live in scattered nests or isolated burrows.”

“Who cares,” Tiger brushed him off. “Even if there isn’t some central location we can take over, I think the effort put into the strike teams would be worth it.” He smirked and looked at Razor. “I wouldn’t mind the opportunity for a bit of extermination.” Scorch’s blood ran cold. Tiger seemed to notice and his eyes twitched over to meet hers. She quickly ducked her gaze and leaned away to nestle her cheek into Razor’s fur demurely.

“We would need to be careful,” Ghost said. “The wild cats are a lot stronger than we first thought. I’m not sure many of my cats could go blow for blow with them for long.”

“They don’t need to,” Oreo said simply. “If we get enough of them in a group they’ll be able to wear the wild cats down even if they take losses.” Scorch spared a glance at Ghost to see his jaw working. He was furious. Still, he was hiding it well, she thought. It was only her experience with him that let her recognize the subtle tensing of the muscles in his neck and the way his tail tip was poised to start twitching if he let it.

Razor seemed to notice too and said, “True, but there’s no need to be so wasteful if we can afford not to be. It’s our job to look out for the Chaff, is it not?”

Oreo’s whiskers twitched and he looked down. Tiger huffed softly through his nose.

Sardine nodded and said, “Indeed. Perhaps combat training could be provided?”

Razor smiled. “Good idea,” he said. “Why don’t you and Ghost organize training for the most promising candidates. Once you both feel satisfied with their progress, we can start implementing these strike teams, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Sardine said, glancing at Ghost. Ghost grunted affirmatively, his jaw still clenched.

“Good,” Razor said, moving to stand. Scorch stood as well, pressing close to him and keeping her head low to avoid too much attention. “Is there anything else we needed to discuss?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Oreo said, standing as well. Tiger and Ghost both shook their heads.

Sardine took a step forward. “Actually, Razor, I was wondering if I could have a private word?”

“Of course,” Razor said, jerking his head towards the rose bush in the corner of the yard. Tail brushing across Scorch’s belly, he leaned into her ear and said, “Wait here for me, would you, dear?”

Scorch chuckled to hide the shudder of disgust that went through her. “Always.” His smile widened and he ran his tongue over her cheek and up her brow before gesturing to Sardine and padding off to the rose bush. She was tempted to try and eavesdrop but knew that she wouldn’t be able to get close enough without being seen.

In addition, she had a more important task to see to. She looked over at the others. Oreo and Tiger had started off across the lawn together, talking amongst themselves. Ghost sat still, his eyes closed as he breathed slowly in and out. Scorch cast one glance over her shoulder to make sure Razor was occupied then slipped over to stand next to Ghost. His whiskers twitched as she drew near and he opened his newly scarred eye to look at her.

“What do you want?” he grumbled. His eyes also darted over her shoulder to where Razor and Sardine were talking.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said softly, offering a smile. “I was under quite a lot of stress last time we talked and I did a lot of things that I am not proud of.” She held her breath, hoping he bought it. This part was integral if she was going to accomplish what she needed to.

He scowled at her. “You nearly got me in serious trouble, you know that?”

“I do,” she winced, hoping she looked sufficiently remorseful. “I’m sorry, Ghost. Really.” He stared at her for another long moment before sighing, his gaze softening a touch.

“I appreciate it,” he said, looking her over. She smiled and sat down. Good. He had never been able to stay mad at her for long.

“I did mean what I said about looking out for Smokyrose,” she whispered. “If you helped me escape, I could bring them a warning.”

Ghost shook his head. “And then what? My cats get killed instead? No, I can’t do that.” Scorch felt anger rising in her again. There was always an excuse with him, wasn’t there, some reason why he couldn’t do what she needed him to. She focused on keeping calm, though. Trying to threaten him hadn’t worked at all. She needed to use a softer touch.

She shifted closer, her eyes big and sincere, and said, “Then I’ll tell the Clans not to kill the Chaff. Goldenstar would listen. She took in Scrap despite my warnings. If she can spare a life, she will, I promise.”

“So Scrap is safe then,” he said as if he’d caught her in a lie. Scorch tried not to let her irritation get the better of her. Like he cared about Scrap at all.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “And I can make sure that she stays that way. Both her and Smokyrose.” Instinctively, she brushed her tail tenderly over his, satisfied by the way he tensed and then relaxed under her touch. “Please, Ghost. Won’t you help me?” She tried to make her eyes water as she held his gaze. Hopefully he would prove as predictable as always and be unable to resist the pleadings of a woman who needed him.

She watched him thinking. His eyes darted down to her paws like he wanted to place one of his own on top of them. He leaned forward almost imperceptibly, their whiskers almost close enough to touch. His mouth opened, a hesitant word on his tongue, and she felt her spirits soar. Yes! She had won! She had-

His eyes flickered over her shoulder and a scowl returned. “Razor is watching,” he said. Bile swelled to overtake her lifted spirits and drag them back down to the pit of her stomach. She knew better than to look over her shoulder or quickly fix her posture. She licked her lips and very carefully sat back.

“Think about it,” she said. “You know where to find me.” At this point, she could hear Razor coming her way. She let one ear twitch back, then stood and turned to face him, hiding all evidence that she had been touching Ghost. She smiled fondly at Razor and moved to meet him, butting her head against his chest.

“Ghost,” Sardine said, a dubious tilt to his voice, “Shall we talk logistics?”

Ghost cleared his throat and nodded, standing. “Yes. Let’s.” Stiffly, he turned and followed the younger tom and Scorch cursed him in her head. He was being too obvious!

Razor curled around her, his brows furrowed, and asked, “What was that all about?” As he did, he nosed the fur on the back of her neck and she went rigid at the touch, heart suddenly hammering.

“I was urging Ghost to have faith in your leadership,” she lied, trying to turn her head to look at him, but he opened his mouth and gently placed his teeth against her scruff and she immediately froze again. A purr rumbled through him and he removed his teeth. This time, she stayed exactly where she was.

“Is that all?” he murmured warmly against her skin. “It seemed like there was more to it than that.” He padded slowly around her, always keeping some part of him in contact with her.

Scorch fixed her eyes on the rose bush as she spoke. “Maybe for him,” she said. “You know he never really got over me.”

“Mm,” Razor hummed, unsatisfied.

Scorch swallowed. “But I promise, things were strictly professional. I have no interest in any other kind of relationship with someone like him.”

Razor came back around to look at her face again and she dared to turn her head to meet his gaze. “Not even a little?” he asked, “for old times’ sake?”

“No, of course not!” She promised with a worried expression. “Razor, I’m yours now. That’s all I could ever want.”

Razor looked her over and then sighed with a dejected glance downward. “I know. I just… after you went missing and everything…” He shifted his weight and sat down. “It feels like you sometimes don’t think about how your actions affect me. I do so much to make sure you’re taken care of and it’s like you don’t even care.”

“No, Razor,” she swallowed and stepped in to wrap herself around him instead, “of course I care! I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel that way.” She knew his game. This trick was the oldest in the book. But she had no choice but to play along. “How can I prove how much I love you, honey?”

Razor leaned into her touch with another sigh. “Just… promise you won’t talk to Ghost anymore?” he asked tiredly. “It would make me feel so much better if I didn’t have to worry about him and you.”

“Of course,” Scorch promised, pressing her forehead against his. “If that’s what you want, I’ll try and avoid him.”

“It is,” he purred. “Thank you, Gingersnap.”

“Anything for you,” she swallowed.

“Why don’t I walk you home,” he offered, pulling back to meet her gaze again.

“Oh, that’s alright,” she shook her head. “I can get back just fine on my own.”

“No, no, I insist,” he said, standing up. “I’ll feel a lot better if I know you got home safe.”

Scorch sighed. It had been worth a try. Smiling, she tried to play her reaction off as fondness and said, “Alright then. Whatever you want, dear.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Razor #Ghost #Oreo #Tiger #Sardine #Marmalade #Leafbare #clangenrising

67 notes · View notes

prey-4-me · 10 months

Note

Ooman pet of a bad blood?

Thx for your request; hope you like it! ♥️

Bad Blood Yautja x pet!reader

Yautja Translations

Da’dtou-di — name, meaning little knife

Kv’var — hunt

***

Cetanu roughed you up a bit as a greeting. “You’re up early, my Da’dtou-di,” he growled. Smiling, you nodded. “I wanted to clean your gear for the kv’var… I know you don’t like to wait.”

He grumbled. “Yes.” Clicking his mandibles, he continued, “Anyway. You are going to come with me today.” Surprised, you looked over at him. Usually you stayed at camp to ‘protect’ it. He had his back to you, concealing his face. You couldn’t tell his motives. But you were pleased all the same.

“When do we leave?” You tried to sound casual about it.

“When we are packed. Hurry,” he growled again. You got busy.

*** Snap! Cetanu swiveled around and boxed your ears, hissing, “Ooman! Quiet! Why are you so heavy footed??” He turned around again. Creeping forward, he was strangely silent for something so large. You looked down at the ground, searching for more twigs. You needed to avoid them at all costs. You fell behind as you struggled to be as quiet as Cetanu. You knew it didn’t really matter; he always charged his prey so he would lose you for certain then. But you could easily follow his path of destruction, as well as the typical sounds of Bad Blood battling their future trophy.

Cetanu roared, dashing off. Trees cracked and foliage gave way as he crashed through the jungle. You heard his prey roar back, and the battle begin. You continued carrying his gear, slowly gaining on their position. Roars and the sound of impact reached your ears. You climbed up a small hill and stopped, crouching. Cetanu and two large, lizard like creatures were battling. You watched Cetanu land several solid blows on one of them. It shook its head, dazed. The other lizard took the opportunity and charged him from behind. Hearing the approaching animal, Cetanu leapt an amazing height into the air. Folding his limbs in, he flipped backwards and land on top of the furious creature. It turned its head, snapping and hissing.

The fight raged on until only Cetanu stood. Victorious, he roared into the dusk air. Covered in blood and gore, he turned to you. “Come, come. Let’s field dress,” he roared, blood still obviously hot from the fight.

Cautiously, you approached. He was still raging, growling and snapping his mandibles. He was still ready for a fight.

“Okay, here,” you set his gear down a little bit away from him, but conveniently located next to one of the lizard things. He grumbled, “You do it.” Surprised, you froze. Cetanu never let you touch his kills.

“Do it.” He snarled. Quickly coming to life again, you relied on muscle memory. You used to field dress your own hunts back on Earth before Cetanu ‘found’ you, as if you had been a stray. Originally terrified, you had learned that although incredibly violent, he was mostly all bark and no bite with you. But his temper still kept you on your toes. You didn’t mind. He still took care of you better than anyone else in your life ever had. Plus, there was a certain amount of notoriety that being a pet of a Bad Blood brought, and you definitely didn’t mind that.

Thoughts returning to the present, you found yourself elbow deep in teal and purple innards. “You want the teeth from this lizard thingie?” You asked casually as Cetanu growled and chuffed, trying to calm down.

“YES,” he roared.

“‘Kay,” you calmly responded.

Cetanu made one of his strange Yautja noises, releasing aggression. Finally he calmed and sat down near you. “Give me the teeth,” he commanded.

You scooped up the ones you had already carefully removed and passed them over. He took a shiny little tool and started to work on the teeth in some way. Trying to stay focused, you turned back to the mouth you were performing your gruesome dentistry on.

***

The sun went down just as you finished the first beast. “Come. We’ll do the second one tomorrow. I’ll hang it above camp so nothing messes with it tonight.” He lifted the dead weight easily. You quickly picked up Cetanu’s gear and rushed to catch up with him, using the the ample moonlight to guide your way.

You arrived to camp huffing and puffing. The gear was heavy. You set it down carefully as Cetanu descended from a tree. You looked up; yup there was the lizard, hanging safely overhead.

“Let’s eat; this meat is good.” He grabbed the package of meat you had carefully wrapped earlier. You started a fire as he tenderized and seasoned it.

“Okay. Here.” He tossed the meat to you. Carefully, you put it on your little griddle. It sizzled deliciously. Your mouth watered. You tended to dinner as Cetanu worked on his tooth project. He was using the little tool on them again.

Finally the meat was perfect. You opened a container of a seaweed-like salad you had prepared before leaving home. Making two plates of food, you presented Cetanu with his. Waiting for him to eat, you sat with your plate in your lap.

He grumbled and set his project down. Curious, you tried to figure it out. “Stop guessing what I’m doing. It’s for later,” he grumbled softly. Picking up his utensil, he tried the meat. “Mm, good job cooking. Very nice.” Happy, you dug into your own plate.

***

“Here.”

You sleepily rolled over. “Huh?”

“This is… yours.” Cetanu’s tone was weirdly soft.

You sat up. You rubbed your eyes; you had been half asleep. “What’s mine?”

He threw something small at you. “Don’t be ooman about it,” he growled.

“Okay,” you laughed, picking the thing up. You held your hands up, angling them towards the campfire. It was the teeth, strung on a small, black cord. But the teeth weren’t smooth anymore. You furrowed your brow and took a closer look. English lettering had been precisely carved into them. You read them out loud, left to right C-E-T-A-N-U-S.

You gasped; a collar? For you?

“Did I spell it right in ooman? Your letters are… stupid.” He commented.

You fastened it around your neck. The teeth hit your collarbones in a pleasing way. “Th-thank you.” You stuttered, unsure if saying thanks was ‘being ooman about it.’

“Don’t be ooman about it. Now everyone will know you’re mine. It’s just being practical.” He grumbled.

Turning away from him, you laid back down. You had a huge grin on your face, but you calmly replied, “Yeah, definitely. Makes sense.” You kept on smiling as he gruffly continued to defend his actions. “I see how some other Bad Bloods look at you. You’re taken; they need to get their own.” He growled angrily. “Now, go to sleep. We wake early again to continue the kv’var.” Smiling, you closed your eyes. It would be hard to sleep, but you would do your best to please your Yautja.

#predator x you #predator x human #predator x reader #yautja x human #yautja x you #yautja x reader #yautja boyfriend #yautja thirst #predator fanfiction #yautja fanfiction

336 notes · View notes

depravitycentral · 7 months

Note

Hii I think I've read all your hxh stuff but the Tumblr blog search is kinda scuffed so if you've already answered something like this just ignore me

Anyway I was curious to know how/if you think the phantom troupe members would share a partner. Like maybe not all of them sharing one partner (that's the dream fr tho lol) but maybe 2 or 3 members sharing one if any of them are into that

Then that leads me to my next two questions, Kurapika and Leorio, would they share a partner or are they just not into that

Then lastly (and if you don't write for them or have any ideas that's fine ignore this) do you think Silva and Kikyo would keep a little "pet" around?

Anyway sorry for the long ask, I guess I could have split this up but I didn't want to spam your box 😅 have a lovely day! ❤️

Please ignore how late this answer is... Also the answer to the Silva/Kikyo question will be posted separately!

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of physical violence, manipulation, mentioned non-con

I was wondering how long it would take before poly yanderes would be discussed on this blog!!

My personal philosophy on poly yandere relationships is that they only work in very, very specific circumstances. The whole concept of a yandere is someone who feels such blinding and overwhelming love and desire for another person that they literally throw their morals out the window just for the chance to bask in a bit of affection or love from their special someone, and adding another person into the equation doesn't exactly fit this vision.

Most yanderes don't want to share you - you're theirs, simple and plain, and often only a very specific person could be the one exception to this rule. Even then, the relationship is often still strained, because unless feelings develop between the two yanderes themselves, jealousy will always be an issue and you as the darling will have to be very careful about making sure you give equal amounts of love and time to each yandere.

But instead of focusing on the logistics of it, let's discuss the actual pairs/their dynamics!!

Machi and Pakunoda are the least resistant to sharing. They respect each other, and while it may be a stretch to call them friends, this respect and trust has led to a solid foundation for them to build off of. Neither are especially forceful with their darlings, instead preferring to hover and take care of them with minimal physical force, and this helps keep both of them placated. Machi is sort of the bad cop while Pakunoda is the good cop, but the reason this pairing works so well is that they help bring out qualities in each other that would normally be their weak points. Pakunoda helps Machi relax and warm up to physical affection with her, because her own natural touchiness is easier to convince Machi that touching you won't be the disaster she's so sure of. And Machi helps Pakunoda attend to every facet of your wellbeing - Machi properly feeds you, tends to any wounds of yours, makes sure that you're getting enough sunlight, that you're still moving and not becoming lethargic, all things that Pakunoda knows she should do but sometimes skips in favor of kissing you or spoiling you. These two are definitely the best pair to get stuck with - still overbearing about your safety and hard to handle always watching you, but certainly better than others.

Shalnark and Chrollo are, admittedly, not equal players in this partnership. Most likely, Shalnark initially became interested in you, and upon Chrollo's eventually learning of your existance, he found himself charmed as well. Shalnark wasn't the happiest at the notion of sharing, but he sees the partnership as an opportunity to help keep you in line and make himself look good. He and Chrollo are both very, very talented manipulators, and by playing off of each other, they're able to present themselves as simply loving partners, managing to gaslight you into thinking that you're overreacting about them being 'horrible' and 'evil' for kidnapping you and forcing you to be their partner. And frankly, it works - they're convincing, and because you get no reprieve or time away from them both at once, eventually you will begin seeing things their way. This isn't a particularly desirable relationship, if only because while you'll eventually be happy (your mind too mixed up to even realize you're unhappy, that is), you'll lose a piece of yourself in a way that you wouldn't with other pairings. You'll be somewhat of a shell of your former self - still you, but with the parts that they like emphasized, and the more problematic parts of your personality (like your desire to leave them) being repressed.

Uvogin and Nobunaga is possible, but it's unlikely that things would last long. This is because Nobunaga is particularly delusional, and Uvogin is particularly lucid. And this combo - Nobuanga's infantilization of you and Uvogin's leniency in your independence - spells out disaster. Things would be tense; arguments would sprout often, with you left to awkwardly stand in the middle, desperately hoping that Uvogin will win the argument. (You don't like him either, but at least his ideas are less dehumanizing than Nobunaga's.) I think it could work, if they worked hard enough to establish how to treat you, but you'd be constantly walking on eggshells around them. (Plus, if you think your poor pussy is getting a little too much action with just one of them as your yandere, then get ready - they fuck you every night, nearly, one taking your cunt while the other shoves himself down your throat. Occasionally they'll even try for your ass, though Uvogin has the sense to force Nobunaga to get you properly prepped before he fucks what he thinks is 'her best hole - it's so tight'. They're just gross, and you'll very obviously favor Uvogin - which once again sparks problems of jealousy. So it's possible, but unlikely to work out.

Phinks and Feitan is another unlikely combo - their types are very different, firstly, but if they did manage to develop feelings for you, things will become very violent very fast. Neither wants to hurt you (at least, not deep down), but they don't exactly agree on how to punish you or respond to your misbehaviors. Feitan is more strict, deciding that you must be punished when you act out because it's the only way to get you to behave how they want. Phinks doesn't share this mindset - he's more of a sucker than Feitan, more inclined to just make you promise not to do it again and then naively believe that you meant it. And this leads to problems - their treatment of you is so radically different, both in the way that they speak to you and how they touch you, that they'll be fighting over nearly everything. And while you won't ever be physically harmed, you'll be subject to watch them physically fight when they're arguing, swinging fists and lightning fast moves making you curl up into a ball because god, they're monsters. Again, it's possible if they can figure out a system that's a compromise for both of them, but it's unlikely.

This probably isn't the answer you're looking for, but it's my opinion! There are probably some more pairings that could potentially work, but these are the ones I see being most likely.

Unrelated to the Phantom Troupe, some other pairs I could see being potentially successful are: Leorio and Kurapika (they're into that!! more protection, as far as Kurapika is concerned, and Leorio is more clingy than possessive, so he wouldn't mind sharing with his best friend whom he is already displaying borderline homoerotic tendencies towards), Knuckle and Morel, Misturi and Obanai, Uzui + wives, Douma and Akaza though it would be very, very rocky and is significantly more unstable than these other matchups, Aizawa and Hizashi, Overhaul and Chrono, Tendou and Ushijima, Bokuto and Akaashi, Hinata and Kenma, don't ask me why but Goshiki and Kindaichi, Kita and Aran, Suna and Osamu

#_lee discusses #yandere hxh #_hxh #yandere kny #yandere bnha #yandere haikyuu #_bnha #_haikyuu #_kny #_all fandoms

120 notes · View notes

luvfy0dor · 3 months

Note

Hiii can I request teen reader who didn’t know their dad (fyodor) was a terrorist so now they avoid him like the plague with no explanation

“Beyond Terror in the Nightfall ♡” Fyodor Dostoevsky w/ Child!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; mentions of blood, murder, and terrorism, loosely proofread

Description; Fyodor decides you're old enough to learn about his job, and your reaction certainly isn't ideal

A/n; There's explanation here because I forgor that you said you wanted none so I'm so sorry 😭 I hope it's still good, I got really sad writing this for whatever reason. Also, f/n is friends name

• Fyodor would go through extreme lengths to keep his occupation to himself and out of your knowledge, so if you're finding out you're gonna find out because he wants you too.

• I think the most likely way is spotting blood on his usually pristine white outfit and being prompted to further investigate.

ೃ⁀➷

The only thing your father would ever tell you about his job was that he worked with tech and computers, which you didn't doubt because of his home-office space that he spent a solid amount of time in. It never explained the long trips away, though. It made you sad to see your father always away, but he did call you every night to remind you that he loves you no matter how far away he is, and it would turn your frown momentarily upside down.

One evening, you ate dinner at the dining table with your dad. Your conversation revolved around the usual things, school, upcoming events, your interests, etc. Fyodor had his usual soft and small smile on his face while listening to you talk. His head rested on his hands while his raven colored bangs fell in his face. Upon concluding the dinner, Fyodor took your dishes and brought them to the sink. "Ah, malyshka, could you start my laundry for me?" He calls over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'll do it right now." You respond, heading to his room to grab his laundry basket, immediately spotting his bloodied and previously completely white pants. You immediately felt worried for your father, taking the pants and bringing them back upstairs. "Papa, are you alright? What happened to your pants? Should I bleach them?" You asked with concern.

Fyodor sighed and paused his task of doing the dishes, turning to you after turning off the sink. "You should bleach them, but do not worry, it's not my blood." He says, his eyes flickering from the pants to your face. Your eyebrows furrowed and you just stared at the pants for a minute before dropping them. Fyodor sighed and watched the pants fall to the ground. "Sweetheart, you're only going to get them dirtier." He said with a chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a little bit. "Who's blood is it then?" You questioned him, your eyes wide with inquiry. He exhales and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n, it's the blood of a man I've killed. You're old enough to know about my real occupation now, and I'd rather not leave you in the dark. You cannot tell anyone about this." He says, looking at you with a serious face. You felt as though you were in shock, trying to tear yourself out of your dissociation that had occured the moment you heard his words. You were successful enough to utter "No, Papa, that's not a funny joke."

You knew just as well as the next person that he wasn't joking, he was far too serious to joke with you about such a horrible thing. The disbelief made it seem that way- as a child he always taught you that violence was never the answer, so why was he partaking in it for a living? He was so smart, he could have gotten a job in ANY field he desired yet he chose to go against his own words that were spoken to his child. You could feel tears of frustration forming in your eyes and your fists balling up. "It's not a joke. Please don't cry, sweetheart." He tried to comfort you by pulling you into a hug, only to be pushed away by you. His mouth hung agape while you stormed off to your bedroom. In any other situation, he would have scolded you for pushing him away, but he understood your sudden aggression in the moment. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He proceeded to do the dishes after being snapped out of his moment by the sound of your door slamming behind your heavy and angry footsteps.

He reflected for a moment and though that maybe he shouldn't have told you at all, but then he thought about how much worse it would be to hear about his job from someone else. He knew you would feel betrayed, but your trust would be more likely to be fixed the sooner he told you. He was your father, after all.

♡

Fyodor let you sleep with your feelings for the night, walking to your bedroom door next morning. He gently knocked on the hard wood surface only to be met with silence from your side. "Y/n? It's time to wake up, you have to go to school." He spoke. When met with silence once again, he opened the door slowly. He was met with your body facing away from him. His eyebrows furrowed and he walked to the bed, gently shaking your shoulder. Your hand abruptly shoved his off of you before retracting back to it's spot curled up against your chest. "Go away. I'll get up as soon as you leave." His eyes widened as he backed up a step.

"Very well, but dont speak so harshly to me next time." He says, his annoyance and disappointment clear in his voice. You could hear his footsteps walking away, followed by the gentle click of the door. You took a deep, shaky breath. Slowly but surely, you rose from your safe haven under the blankets. The cool air immediately collided with your skin and made you shiver, but you held up and didn't retreat back beneath the covers. You tried to suppress the memories of your father's confession, not wanting to believe it as you stood up and picked out an outfit for the day. You fulfilled your morning routine and walked out to the kitchen, headphones in your ears as an attempt to discourage Fyodor from talking to you. He only frowned when he looked at you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

"Y/n, do you have any extra curriculars after school today?" He asked you. You shook your head and scavenged through the cabinets for something to eat. "My friends mom will bring me home." Fyodors eyebrows knitted together as he leaned against the counter. "Why would she do that? I can get you like I always do, that way you can tell me about your day." He says, kind of upset that you're going out of your way to be as far from him as possible. You gave a short and simple yet insufficient answer. "Because."

"Because, what?" He asked, crossing his arms. "Because I don't want to go for a car ride with a murderer! She would have brought me to school too, but she was busy!" You shout, angrily walking out of the kitchen and the house, sitting in the car in the back seat instead of your usual spot in the passenger seat. It didn't take long for Fyodor to follow, locking the door behind him while you waited in the car, scrolling through your phone. He settled into the driver's seat and looked at you in the mirror, huffing and buckling his seatbelt. "You get upset with me for my work, but you don't seem too upset about having that phone, and my job pays for that, Malyshka." He says bluntly. You take a moment to breathe instead of yelling at your father because you know that would only make it worse. "Any other job could pay for it just the same. Why do you kill people? What are you, an assassin?" You inquire while making eye contact with him from the back seat. "I'm a terrorist." He says with a sigh.

"Even worse then." You turn the volume on your phone up and listen to music to drown his voice out. You had to bite back your tears of betrayal and disappointment, small whimpers escaping from your throat every now and again. Fyodor felt a bit remorseful upon hearing that. He never had felt any sort of guilt when he killed and injured, but because you were his child, hurting your feelings was enough to make him feel penitence. He didn't show it in his face, though. He wore the same flat and neutral expression he always had.

The rest of the ride was inordinately quiet. He let you out of the car and wished you a good day at school and told you he loved you, but you didn't care to reply. You didn't turn around to watch his car drive off either. Walking into the school, you met your friend and decided to keep silent about the situation. You didn't want to be known as the kid with the terrorist dad, and you REALLY didn't want him to be persecuted. You just sucked it up and went on with your day. A few periods before dismissal, you asked your friend to sleep over instead of being brought home. Their mom agreed because it was a Friday, but said you would have to return home early in the morning because they had stuff to do. You didn't mind and went along with it, hopping into the backseat of the car with your friend.

"How was school for the two of you? Good?" Their mom asked while pulling out of the parking lot. "It was good, I turned in some late work." F/n says. "Good. And how about you, y/n?" She asks with a welcoming smile. "It was good."

The car ride back was mostly just you and your friend talking to eachother with the occasional comment from their mother. They lived pretty close to the school, only two miles away. The older woman pulled into the driveway and your friend immediately got out of the car, urging you to do the same and follow them up to their room. You did with some shared laughter and playful banter, plopping on their bed when you make it up the staircase and through the door frame. Your school bag with your phone in it gets tossed somewhere while the two of you decide on a movie to watch. Unbeknownst to you, your phone was ringing with calls from your father and hour into the movie. He was also texting you, the notifications making your screen glow in the confines of your bookbag. The device didn't cross your mind until the end of the movie, fishing it out of the bag. When you turned it on, you had a solid 10 messages from your father and five missed calls. Suddenly, your friend's mom's footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. She gently opened the door and locked eyes with you.

"Did you seriously not tell your father that you were sleeping over? He's worried sick over you!" She softly says. "He's going to come get you right now, so gather your stuff and come wait down stairs." She says, waving you along with her. You could almost feel your heart in your throat with anxiety of facing him again. You reluctantly gathered your stuff and bid your friend goodbye and gave a brief explanation on the situation. You only let on that you were in an argument with your papa but never mentioned why. They frowned and walked downstairs with you, their shoulders slumped and spirits seemingly broken. "I still don't get why you wouldn't just ask him first." F/n said exasperatedly. "Don't worry about it, we'll have a sleepover at some point. I'm sorry." You say, just as upset as your friend. Only a few more words are exchanged before you see your father's car in the driveway. You sighed and made your way outside, waving to your friends family before walking to the driveway. You looked only at your feet, refusing to make eye contact with Fyodor through the windshield.

You opened the door to the back seat and tossed your stuff in, going to sit down before Fyodor stopped you. "Sit in the passenger seat, I think we should talk about this." He says calmly yet sternly. You didn't have the energy to argue back, so you did as told. You begrudgingly sat yourself in the passengers seat and looked at your hands in your lap instead of him. It was quiet until he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. "I'm aware of your disapproval of my job, but you cannot ignore my phone calls and messages when I don't know where you are. If I hadn't called f/n's mother, God knows when you would have gotten back to me." He strictly tells you, subtly distressed over your sudden rebellion. You silently collected your thoughts and then opened your mouth. "It's more excusable than killing people, papa." Your voice was soft and quiet. "Malyshka, I do it for the greater good of the world, you don't understand because you are just a teenager. You do not get to criticize my job until you've lived in the real world instead of in the comfort of your adolescence." He says, his voice rising a bit.

"Yeah, but-" you started, but he cut you off. "No, you need to put an end to this behavior right now. My job does not need to align with your personal morals." You felt your throat tighten, keeping more words from escaping your mouth. You say silently for the rest of the ride, swiftly exiting the car when he parked it in front of the house. He followed after a moment, unlocking the door for you and closing it behind him. "I understand that you're upset, but please do not avoid me like that, y/n." He pleads with you. If you looked closely, you could almost see it in his face. You sighed and relaxed your shoulders. "I'm sorry, Papa. I'm still mad at you, but I'm sorry for what I did today. That was a little uncalled for." You admitted. A small smile appeared on his face and he pulled you into a loose hug. "I love you, papa, just dont make me wash your bloody clothes ever." You demand. He hums and kisses your head affectionately. "Alright, I think that's fair." He agrees. He released you from his hold and started towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make dinner, is there anything specific you want? If we have the ingredients I'll make it for you." You contemplated your options for a moment before settling for a meal that you used to make with him when you were little. "Can we make beef stroganoff?" He hummed, content with your choice. "Yes, start getting the stuff out." Your frown finally left your face and you also entered the kitchen, happier to help your dad make dinner than to avoid him.

A/n; Hey y'all this got kinda long but ykw it's okay. I think I made the reader get over it a little too quickly, but for the purpose of happy ending it's also okay.

96 notes · View notes

lingering-42-long · 10 months

Note

Hiiii. I really wanted to ask for a fic about Captain Price. Something telling about him being in a relationship with someone who is younger (an appropriate age). Details: Can be an NSFW or SFW, either option is.

Thank you, I love your stories ^3^)

Age

John price x f! reader

Hello everyone! Once again, I have failed to load on a daily basis lol. I blame my writers block.

The story you are about 12 year separate in age. You are 23 and he is 35.

Enjoy!

Warnings: fluff, no mention of (y/n), John being slightly insecure about his age.

John felt old, like really old. When he got out of bed this morning, he could feel his bones crack and pop underneath the pressure, his back hurt slightly, and he was already in a grumpy mood, without his coffee or cigar for that matter, but deciding it was too early for the cigar, he settled with the coffee.

Looking over at you, he couldn’t help but feel old. Between you and him, It was an age gap of 12 years. It wasn’t a super big gap, but it definitely was off putting one too some. Some people called her a Golddigger and some people called him a creep. He didn’t care so much what they called him. As long as they kept you out of the picture he was fine he could deal with the torment.

Being a military wife wasn’t easy and he knew that. There have been multiple times where you had to make the tough decision of choosing between attending school or helping him on more than one occasion. He hated that. Being in the military meant that you moved a lot online school was an option, but you really wanted to attend inside a building with other people, your age, studying and learning together. John sometimes felt like he had ripped that away from you.

John rarely felt loathing for himself. He was very comfortable in his own skin and his own decisions. Sure, he had made decisions poorly in the past, and he does regret those, but he sees no reason onto why he should linger what he can’t fix. But it was days like these, where he got to really reflect on his life did he realize how much of an impact he had on other people… on you. If there was one thing, he hated the most it was the fact that he had to constantly be on the move leaving you to fend for yourself, in a new town that you had just moved in only to be picked up once again by the winds to move to another new town, again.

He knew that your education was so important. You’ve been working on your bachelors in your respected field and it had taken so long for you. With the constant moving and readjusting almost every two years or so, it was hard on you both.

John also regretted not having a proper honeymoon with you or a proper wedding for that matter. Yes you too did have a wedding with close friends and family members and it was really cute a little backyard wedding at one of his friends cottage farms, But he knew that you liked the city. He knew that you had a ton of other people that you wanted to invite, but due to him, leaving for departure soon, getting married, and at that time, not really having the greatest amount of money… it was rather hard for both of them who they wanted to invite.

The honeymoon was also postponed for a solid year as well, and when he was able to take you, it wasn’t nearly as long as he wanted. Once again, getting whisked away to serve his country. What was supposed to be a whole month was reduced down to only two weeks.

You were always OK with it. You always understood that this was just a part of being in the military. There was barely any time really for you two, as you both were competing for one another, as well as for the workplace calling out for him. Any time he had to tell you that he had to pick up and go again, you always gave him a smile and said where to and always try to make the best out of the situation…. He loved that about you. He loved how resilient you were. It took a lot to really irritate you and that’s what draw him to you. What had become a simple greeting at a local grocery store, had become their lives now.

Going back to reality he finally made his way to the kitchen to make coffee for both of them. He knew you would be up soon. You rarely slept in when he woke up. He was an old man with old habits. Waking up at three in the morning was some thing he was very accustomed to. You had adapted to that.

He made his coffee black while fixing yours the way you like it. Milk with a little bit of sugar to cut the bitterness out. His mind returning back to his wariness about his own issues. He didn’t understand why he was so reminiscent and methodical about the past.

He felt a hand, gently rest on his shoulder, followed by a head. It was you. You had just woken up and was still coming around.

“Morning love.” Price smiled softly as he turned around to hand you your coffee, and give your father had a gentle kiss. You had your hair in that cute little messy bun that he always enjoyed seeing you in, wearing an oversize shirt over his boxers that you had stolen. You had that tire drunken look that you always got in the morning when you were first waking up.

“Did I disturb you?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

You shook your head and gently slept on your coffee while leaning on your husband.

He carefully ushered you into the living room with him so that he could enjoy his coffee sitting down with you versus standing up in the kitchen. You carefully curled yourself around him and wrapped a blanket over both of you. As the coffee was slowly kicking into your system, you asked,

“Did you sleep well?”

He had to think about this one actually. Did he sleep good? He felt like he did but at the same time he didn’t really feel all that restful, not like the other times he had.

“ It was all right. What about you love? This morning I caught you snoring.” he chuckled as he made light teasing with her. She made a pathetic, whining sound, and gave his shoulder, a gentle slap, which in return, made him chuckle and give her a tighter hug before placing a kiss on the top of her head. They sat in silence for a few more minutes. This was their ritual to slowly wake themselves up from their sleepy minds.

Once again, Price’s mind wandered. It was drifting all over the place. He felt like he was on a raft in a very rough sea. He felt a tap on his shoulder before he looked at you.

“Hmm? Yes love?” He asked.

“ What are you thinking about?” You ask as you gently set up a little bit more straighter, watching and reading his expression. He may be a soldier and a captain At that, but you had mastered the ability to read this light little details in his face. The way his eyes creased when he was smiling or the way his brow furrowed when he was in deep thought about something that he wasn’t too sure about. The way his left eye would twitch if something was irritating him. And the way he would pop his hands if he was bored.

“Am I too old for you?” John never beat around the bush. He was straight to the point all the time, but this wasn’t also the first time he had asked this question. He had asked it a few times prior before marrying you and during your marriage.

“ you know my answer, no of course not. Besides, I like older guys they have better understanding of how the world works and they have a better grip on their shoulders.”

You looked at him, letting him know that you approved at his age. He gave a slight home as he took more sips of his coffee.

“ I’ve just been thinking… I guess my mind is playing tricks on me… I’ve never been the type to be insecure about myself, but… I guess this morning when I got out of bed and felt pain, It made me feel really feel old, And I guess it’s borrowed from there.” He looked at her. “ if we have kids by the time they turned 10 I will be well into my 40s or 50s…. Are you sure you still want a life like that with me?” He looked at her with those soft, steel-blue eyes.

“Always. I would always want a life with you. I looked back at my friends who are marrying young guys, and their relationship isn’t doing as great as ours. Either both or one of them is more immature than the other, and it leaves the relationship feeling hollow or unstable…. I mean I hope you feel that we have a strong relationship, I feel like we do.” His wife fiddled with the blanket that was on top of them.

“Love you make me the happiest man, I love you never forget that, yeah?” He smiled and kissed her, this time on the lips.

“I love you too, my captain.” You chuckled and kissed back, feeling his bristly beard hairs, tickle your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

“So….” She looked at him once the kiss ended.

“So what my dear?” He asked.

“When can we try for a baby?” You asked looking innocently at him which was the worst timing for him, as he was just taking a sip of coffee before nearly spitting it out, which still resulted in him coughing a little bit.

“Are you serious love?” He frowned looking at her “ I don’t want you making any irrational decisions on my behalf.”

“Don’t be silly! I want a child too! I’ve just been waiting for you.”

“But what about your schooling? Would it be easier for you to finish that first before starting a family?” he was also worried about his career, not being able to spend time with his children, but that was for a different note.

“ I think I’ll be fine.” You smiled. “Schooling will always be there for me to go anytime, but the opportunity for a child may not always be there.” John sat down his mug on the little end table and hugged her close. “When should I start?”

“How about now captain?” You smirked, also setting your mug down.

“Oh my dove, you are one feisty woman arn’t ya” he chuckled and brought his wife’s wish to reality.

#john price x reader #cod john price #cod x reader #cod x you #x reader #fluff #cod #captain john price #oldermen #i’m a sucker #for older men

244 notes · View notes

simplyender · 2 months

Note

You previously mentioned that Johnathon probably had a less than ideal childhood. If you are still in the mood for headcanons, would you mind sharing your thoughts on his upbringing/childhood/adolscence? The good, the bad, whatever comes to your mind. Thank you! (I wonder if he was still roommates with Quentin Beck in the movieverse)

Thank you so much for asking!!!! Sorry about taking so long to respond, work has been exhausting for me, and I really want to give my best answer, hence why I stew over asks quite a bit, lol

ANYWAY,

• Apparently, The Spot from the comics is originally from Spokane. Yeah, I'll incorporate that one in to my personal beliefs.

• He reads to me as having come from an upper-middle-ish class family.

• Only child, but his parents were frequently busy with their jobs, and when they were around, they didn't exactly have or bother to make the time for him.

• Pretty judgemental parents in general.

• Despite that, he still spent a fair amount of time trying to prove himself worthy of their attention, a difficult task with...Mixed results, mostly leaning towards failure.

• One of my friends was once like "There was definitely a time where he wanted to show them something he made and got snapped at for bothering them.", and yeah I totally agree with that.

• Over time he became more reclusive, spent more time in his room than anywhere else. He preferred reading, learning to code, and working on his own little projects over socializing, something he wasn't all too skilled at. It wasn't like there was much to socialize with at home, anyways, considering he would either be ignored or treated like a nuisance a solid 90% of the time.

• This was a double edged sword, though, since he'd also been yelled at for "being in his room all the time" a few times.

• Was used as a scapegoat quite often.

• After a certain point he moved on to trying to get his validation through other means. High grades, impressive science projects, plans to become a scientist and making the biggest damn breakthrough ever seen, do something that will change the world forever. Because then nobody could ignore him or treat him like he's less if he managed that.

• But obviously they're not the worst in his mind because they helped pay for college, so,,,,,,

edit: actually thought about this some more and he probably got a scholarship. oops lol idk high academics.

• Saw the 1933 Invisible man at a young age and absolutely loved it, he spent a short period of time trying to figure out how to make himself invisible, and kind of wished that dr. Jack Griffin was his real dad and that also maybe he'd kill his parents, healthy and not worrying thoughts from a probably 8 year old. It's been around 25+ years since then, but he'd still get seriously embarrassed if somebody brought up his old attempts.

• Had a massive growth spurt in his early teenage years, which automatically put a target on his back for even more bullying.

• Started experimenting with his fashion and putting some more work in to his appearance close to the end of high school. Still sucked at keeping up with haircuts and remembering to shave, though.

• Was probably at his peak in college, honestly. Nicest place he's been in. Least bullying he's experienced. He even made a friend or two!

• IMO he was totally roommates with Quentin in this universe too, they were on different tracks, but all in all, they got along pretty well! John was happy to help him with with whatever he was working on, although, John mostly kept his personal stuff to himself (still appreciated the extra hand with carrying things...), or at least tried to. Whether he was listened to or not is another matter entirely. When they collaborated, they were a real dream team. Unfortunately, they kinda fell out of contact after college, so it was a pretty big surprise to John when Mysterio got caught and it was released that his old college roommate had become a supervillain.

....Which only further entrench him in the "I'm meant to be Spider-Man's nemesis" mindset, by the way.

#the spot #atsv #johnathon ohnn #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #headcanons #character analysis #i guess?#whenever i thought abt the growth spurt hc id hear those lyrics from 'danny dont you know'#'you had a growth spurt and you're suddenly 6'2“....#the girls are steering clear #you walk like a newborn deer....'#thats him #anyway im still open to asks just expect me to take along time coming up w an answer #oh right bruef mention of #quentin beck #yippee

53 notes · View notes

cerastes · 2 months

Text

So, Tekken 8. I'm pleased with the direction it has fundamentally taken. In general, high profile fighting games have taken a far more welcoming approach towards newcomers, which is much needed and has thankfully gotten pretty good results so far: Street Fighter 6, for example, went lengths to provide a good, welcoming experience for new players, Granblue Rising retains its beginner friendly nature while expanding on systems to give it more depth at a higher level without stopping to be a fundamentally simple and 'easy' (but fun) fighting game with gorgeous flair, and Tekken 8 is following on the same road. It did this to some degree with Tekken 7, but Tekken 8 definitely goes a step further.

In general, Tekken 8 is much better geared towards user experience and perception than Tekken 7 was. I was a bit surprised to hear about friends that never really deal with Ranked in any game ever, tell me they were queueing up to climb the ladder. I started playing Tekken 8 a few days ago, and when I hopped into Ranked, I noticed small changes that carry a big impact with them in the UI, particularly in the loading screen pre-fight: What it shows.

So, in Tekken 7, you can see both players' Tekken Power, total wins as the character, rank, the results of their last 10 games, their 3 highest player tendencies, and personal match-up win and stage win rates.

That is a lot of information, and you'd usually think "more information is better, right?", I think in this case it was a double edged blade, however: If you're a newer player who's gotten wiggity washed four games in a row now, with your 13 total wins and 9k Tekken Power (or Prowess, as it was in 7) and your B/C/C tendencies, and get matched up a guy with a rank you've never seen before, with over 10 times your Power, triple S+es, 2.3k wins, on a 7 win streak... Well, you're probably going to be more than a little intimidated before the game even starts. For a lot of people, understandably, this immediately becomes the moment of "holy shit, I'm about to get ragdolled", so you go in with a different mentality than you might go against someone whose stats you don't know. Some people don't get affected by this, but a lot of people do, especially curious people that are trying to get into the games and might get put off when they mentally lose before the fight even starts.

In contrast, the Tekken 8 loading screen offers less information, but it's a far better user experience:

3 highest Tendencies, Tekken Power, Rank, and that's it. There's other stuff like console or PC, area, but it's otherwise a lot more laconic. And this works better! You just know their Power, their tendencies, their rank, and that's that. In the actual fight, you can see their current win streak, but no one can see if you or the opponent has 8 loses in a row. You don't know if they have 100 wins or 6000 wins, and so, you don't really think about it, you just go and fight. And if you lose, it's a world of difference to be "ok I got outplayed, that was some solid play from them" than it is to be "ok, yeah, they had ten times the amount of wins than I have lifetime games of Tekken, this was inevitable". So you can go and fight and win and keep playing. The user experience is much better.

I also really appreciate Arcade Quest: It's basically a short, very interactive tutorial: Instead of going through hours of dry tutorialing, a more inductive style like this is far better for newcomers, it's got basic, colorful characters, lots of tutorials peppered in throughout its run time, and a friendly coat of paint so you can get acquainted with the different systems at a nice pace: Your initial opponents are pushovers, letting you get a feel for movement and attacking, then you reach the third or so arcade, and your tutorial guy goes "hey, I heard they defend really well here, and they like opening you up with lows, let's learn how to deal with these" and you get your tutorials on how to open up opponents as well as dealing with lows, and then you fight the people in that arcade and it's mostly opponents like Law, Lili, Bryan, Dragunov, who have snake edges (strong low sweeps that offer good oki or launch for air combos, depending on whether its a counter hit or not) and their AI is specially geared to using these lows, as well as having better defense against highs so you use throws or lows. It's less a story mode and more a series of flavored tutorials, and I think it's really good for a game to have to ease players into the game's meatier systems.

The high level good ass Tekken is all there, it's just, there's a far more concise way of getting there for people that didn't grow up playing these games or had the raw gumption to deal with the sometimes Spartan fighting game community standards for onboarding. It's not a dirt road leading to the beach anymore, they paved it nice and easy so more people can get there, at their own pace, whether it be speeding there on a car, or through a nice leisurely stroll. It's something that I can appreciate both as someone who grew up in arcades playing fighting games with randos and regulars, and as someone that loves good, welcoming, efficient game design and wants more people to discover the joy of the fighting game.

#tekken 8

53 notes · View notes