#when a purple person and a green person meet it's all over they're bonded for life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yesyourstalker · 7 months

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Mahi: hey, some guy in a suit came in today and he handed me this paperwork. I think it's for you. You need to sign some things

Neta: let me see........... Why'd they make this shit so small?......

Mizole: uh-oh looks like Grandpa needs glasses

Neta: hey, I can ban you from the store at any time so keep playing with me... I do have glasses hold up. I don't know where they are........I usually put them under the register.... Here they are

Mahi: those are actually really....... Interesting Where'd you get them from?

Neta: I got them from eel eyes they're prescriptions... I really need to renew them...... eye sight getting worse...

Mizole: ohh ma eye sight's going and ma knees are popping ohh cod I'm a feeble old man.... I could die any minute

Neta:... One of these days I swear ..... mahi take care of your boyfriend before I take care of him myself

Mahi: okay that's enough babe....... It was really funny though.... if they're prescription shouldn't you wear them everyday

Neta: Not necessarily, but in my case I actually do need to start wearing them

Mahi: so why don't you wear them?

Neta:.................................. Because...... I don't know!! they didn't match my aesthetic at the time..... Stupid reason I know

Candie: Maybe you should get nicer glasses like they're nice but the rim is too thick Maybe get some rimless ones that would be nice

Mahi: Maybe circular ones or maybe semicircle like oval glasses

Mizole: that will make him look even older!

Neta: you get one more old joke and after that I'm yanking that thing you call to goatee off your face

Mizole: oop calm down sir. We don't want you to overexert yourself... hehehe...ok..ok I'm done... Maybe try being a different color glasses I mean turtle shell is nice but a solid black or maybe a silver would be good

Warabi: you should get contacts

Neta: I figured it out later!!!..... Shit. I really need to get new glasses. These things aren't working... I need to get them before I leave next week

(after work)

Neta: what about these ones?

Ikkan: mmmmm... No... I don't like those

Neta: okay how about these?

Ikkan: why does everything you have to have be green?

Neta: because I like green! Why is everything you own purple?

Ikkan: Not everything I own is purple!

Neta: what color is your phone case..... No wait better question. what colors are your underwear?..... It's plum. You're wearing the plum ones right?

Ikkan:.................................... Shut up....

Neta: uh hu...yeah.....ohh how about these?.......

Ikkan: ..... Those are nice. I like the thin frames.... They kind of look like mine

Neta: yeah except yours are lavender which is....purple.... You need to wear them more.

Ikkan: it's actually actually mauve..... I don't need to wear them that often not as much as you do

Neta: you squint when you drive! You pretend like I don't I don't notice but I do babe. You need to wear glasses and I need to wear mine......oooooh. We were matching glasses!

Ikkan: no... Babe, that's- no

Neta: yes!! look they have it in.......'red shiso'...........Oh! and they have it in 'deep forest!'.... That's it! Send me your information. We're getting matching glasses!!.... *gasp* they have them in kids sizes! Cirrina-

Cirrina: no!

Ikkan: hahahaha! you're ridiculous.....fine.. just send me the link and I'll order them myself

Neta: hehehe yes ..... I Love you...bye

Ikkan: love you too...bye

Cirrina: You guys are dorks

Neta: but we're your dorks crab cakes!

The gremlin known as Mahi was discovered by by@fish-at-fish-fish-resort

#neta has the looks of a 20 something but performs like someone who's pushing 50 #He's like a bowl of Rice Krispies every time he moves something snap crackles or pops #mostly because his position being a backliner he was on his hands and knees or crouched behind something or someone most of the time #and staring at people from a distance didn't help either #mizole hates anyone over 30 #it's ok when mahi calls him old they can do whenever they want but mizole get 3 three strikes and then he's out #ikkan is nearsighted because....... I don't know because I'm nearsighted why not #when a purple person and a green person meet it's all over they're bonded for life #red shiso is actually a really dark shade of purple It's a really pretty color

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aroaceconfessions · 1 year

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I always see other aspec people, whether aro or ace (or both), talk about wanting to know someone in real life who's also aro, ace or aroace, and I get that sentiment since I am the only asexual person in my entire social circle, yet at the same time I know another aromantic person because they're my friend's best friend, (like "you are my favourite person" level best friend,) and while we have being aro in common, and I do love that solidarity, I like knowing someone I can talk to about how stupid some romantic tropes are without having to go do the whole "obviously there's nothing wrong with being in love or feeling romantic attraction towards someone, and people have the right to enjoy this kind of stuff, etc. etc." shtick, I enjoy that they just get it, and don't take personal offence to the idea that romantic love isn't the end all be all greatest thing in the world, but at the end of the day we're not really anything to each other.

It feels like there's this expectation that a fellow aspec and you will automatically get along and be each other's best friend and rock in a world full of people who will inevitably prioritise another person over you, even a hypothetical person, because you're "only" their friend, when in reality you might find yourself meeting aspecs, bonding a little over similar experiences, and then never get any closer than being acquaintances, or even if you do end up being friends they might still choose someone else over you. I don't want this to be a bummer or make fellow aspecs feel like they're doomed to be lonely forever, I just feel like, to a degree, we've been repackaging the age old "a relationship will fix me/make me happy" or "I just haven't met the right person yet" sentiments in purple, white, grey, black, and green striped gift wrap, to explain why we're so lonely, why we feel so unwanted and unappreciated.

#aromantic #asexual #aroace #arospec #acespec #aspec #aroacespec #arose #friends #friendship #community

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nectarous · 3 years

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TOOTHSOME ⇋ OJIRO ARAN X F!READER.

TAGS: strangers to soulmates. suggestive themes [no smut]. constant changes of pov. slowburn fluff with angst ending.

W/C: 3.3K

SUMMARY: a simple study of intimate bonds and tasting love.

⇦ SEWER SOULMATE SYNDROME COLLAB MASTERLIST ♡

there’s something about the world that’s absolutely and wholly dull. waking up to blistering rays glaring through open windows, working at a lackluster club, coming home to your barebones apartment that you’ve never bothered decorating. you only look forward to collapsing into a steaming bath, dreading the fact you’ll have to repeat this all over again once the sun starts to peek up from the horizon.

it’s what’s deserving of such an uninspiring, miserable personality. you’re not interested in much outside of the bubble you crafted. you’re indifferent to the fickle things; love, bonds, and that mouthful of flavor when you meet your soulmate for the first time. it doesn’t interest you in any capacity.

you know that there’s a lot to be desired with you. your people skills need tinkering and while your work ethics are respectable enough, all you can think to describe yourself is boring.

you’re interested in surviving and supporting yourself. living long enough to enjoy yourself, but short enough to not have to work hard—you’ve never been interested in the company and passing affections of others.

the idea of a soulmate is a delicate one to some, daft to others. you’re more indifferent on the topic, leaning closer to disdain, about the idea of a fated second half.

how naïve you are for thinking that you’re lucky enough to escape it, unaware that in a short twelve months, it’ll only take one stranger to ruin your perception of love, of the world, of yourself.

just like everyone else, you’ve been taught about soulmates, raised around the idea that finding them would finally open you up. from an outsider's perspective, you understand how they work, how they feel. you’ve spotted that glazed over look in their eyes more times than you care to count. you’ve witnessed soulmates bumping into each other for the first time, seen how eyes light up, and heard the crashing of heart beats from across rooms. you swore you could hear them salivate at the taste of each other’s presence.

you’re certain that’s something you’ll never experience. you hope you’ll never meet them, hope that they're dead or far away in some other continent, or that they’re as much as a homebody as you are. you covet to be in the majority that never meet their soulmate, and have to settle for yourself and

you’ve made it this far alone. why bother searching for your other half now?

• • •

even at 27, aran’s still hopeful he’ll find the person he’s supposed to spend his life with. it’s a silly little fantasy, one that has settled deep in his core, meeting the love of his life and instinctively knowing. all through his teenage years, he’s been teased for being a hopeless romantic. but who could blame him? what’s more serene, more absolute than the idea of finding the person who will love you for who you are, for the rest of your life?

his romanticism has mellowed out over the years, and he’s become a reasonable man with a successful career and lifelong friends and a dog he spends a fortune on every month. he’ll let life take its course, pray for the best, and continue on.

everyone has a soulmate. he hopes it’s only a matter of time before he meets his. but it’s not a necessity for him.

• • •

the first time you see him, your soulmate, is outside some onigiri shop, bathed in the purple shadows of sunset. you instantly turn the other way, stumbling into some random convenience store and ignoring that lightheadedness, and the urge to gag at the rich flavor soaking into your mouth, hoping he doesn’t feel your proximity.

all of a sudden, you’re not that hungry anymore.

• • •

aran feels it. his knees grow weak, his heart swells twice as big, there’s a pressure in his sinuses that almost has him stumbling back. and then that feeling’s gone. when he looks around, no ones there, but the residual feelings still linger.

this is the taste of aran’s soulmate. he always expected love to taste like bubblegum or the strawberry mochi he used to split with his sister. he expected to savor the color pink, or red, delicate colors that remind him of spring and joy.

instead, there’s a bitter, heavy metallic soaking into his mouth; like antimony and lemon rinds. it clashes against his taste buds causing his face to scrunch up in distaste.

it tastes like gray.

• • •

the overwhelming taste in your mouth is pastel green, tooth-decaying sweet, and tart. it drips down your throat, makes your gums and your heart ache and throb. it feels like you’re going to choke right here, in the snack section of a convenience store.

granny smiths, heavy molasses and acerbic echoes of sumac sticks to the insides of your cheeks. the emotions so saturated it starts to burrow deep in your teeth.

you hate how warm it makes you feel.

• • •

you recognize him immediately when you’re flicking through the channels waiting for your dinner to reheat. of course the universe decides to pair you up with a fucking olympic volleyball player with amazing things going for him. you can’t change the channel, can’t ignore that he looks a little too good panting and covered in sweat. his voice rumbles smooth, his eyes glimmer, his quiet chuckle makes you throb.

you’ve been laying in bed and trying to push out the sneaking thoughts of him, trying to erase the green flavor that creeps back in ever since.

it’s been two weeks since you’ve been anywhere near that shop. the fear that you’ll bump into him again is… overwhelming. but you’re exhausted, working through the day for the second time this week. and of course, you forgot your umbrella at home, forcing you to run through the muggy rain in a ratty shirt and soggy sneakers.

you told yourself you’d take the long way home, but now that cutting through this block will get you out of the rain faster, knowing it’ll get you back home in time to catch that cooking show while you take a bath, tempts you too much.

but of course, nothing that life hands you seems to go your way.

and of course he’s out there again. out of all days. you hope he’s not some mindless sap that waits outside of the shop everyday, aching for the chance to bump into his soulmate and live happily ever after. that might be the only thing that would make this soulmate bond even more painful.

you really should’ve just gone the long way home.

he looks happy and, you begrudgingly admit to yourself as you wait for the crosswalk to turn green, even more handsome than on your tv. big. he’s on the phone, protected from the rain under the shop’s awning. the taste of green’s already oozing it’s way back in.

apparently, that perspective ability you admired while watching one of his first matches bleeds outside the court too, because he immediately makes eye contact with you. eyes widen, he hangs up immediately, and his hand raises in a wave.

and the first thing you can do is run.

• • •

he can sense that his soulmate’s near, that sharp tinny taste overpowering the onigiri osamu forced him to finish. it has his nose crinkling up before he whips his head up, staring at a girl. his heart soars a bit, finally he gets to meet you, before crashing down upon seeing that expression of horror on your dripping face, before you trip your way into some alley. he doesn’t second guess running into the sheets of rain, not hesitating at the sudden chill of rain.

he can tell that you’re scared, terrified, disgusted at the idea of having a soulmate. is it because of him?

the taste of each other is overwhelming, gunmetal grating and foiled and loud crashing into his. can barely swallow it down, eyes rolling back.

you can’t handle the onslaught of pungent syrupy sour, it’s soaking into your head more than the rain. it makes you hunched over and soaked, retching bile and the remnants of breakfast, you want to die.

you want to tell him to fuck off, let you drown in apples, in the vomit and the rain, but he’s insistent. he keeps a polite distance, a safe distance, from you. arms flex in his soaking pale t-shirt while he looks at you like some kind of wounded, rabid animal.

“let’s get you warmed up, ok?”

that tart taste eats away at the rancid bile in your mouth, and you hate to admit that his charcoal eyes start to slowly thaw you.

you’re a mess of chattering teeth, goose pimpled skin. your nipples are poking stiff peaks into your shirt and your fingers are shaking, but he politely ignores both, stepping over the puddle of vomit to pick up your dropped bag, hot hand on the small of your back as he leads you in through the back entrance of the onigiri shop.

two identical faces, the only thing separating them is the shock of pale blond hair, are watching you from a distance as aran presses soft cotton into your arms and leads you into the locker room. they both feign boredom as you shuffle by them, but even in your bleak state, you can’t ignore that interested glimmer in their eyes from behind the register.

the sound of slopping clothes dropping against the cold tile makes your skin crawl, your eyes sting, and your head ache like it was just banged into the concrete. you don’t know whether to be humiliated or thankful, unsettled or grateful that ojiro aran’s actually nice. such a simple word. just these last 10 minutes has proved his heart of gold and, as you tread back into the main room, you think you’re going to cry.

no one talks as you collapse and curl up on one of the farthest seats, as you start to lose yourself in the sounds of thunder and the stifled radio, the cold bleeding it’s way into your brain. you can start to feel yourself dissociating, vision starting to blur, losing yourself in the numb.

the delicate placing of six onigiri snaps you out of it, aran’s look of concern makes you curve over your knees as you drag the plate closer. his eyes tickle at your soul, baring deep into your bones, as if he can see how much you're hurting, how much you don’t care. compared to him, you look like a drenched rat, hair still damp and feet bare.

you really might cry.

because it hurts. the thought that he’d treat you good like this, every day, for the rest of his life. you can tell he’s kind, the way he sets down a cup of tea and brings you some food. the way he offers you a change of clothes. he’s a gentleman, and you feel pity for him, that he’s attached to you.

the tilt of your lips in gratitude probably translates more as a grimace than a smile.

he waits until after you finish eating to start talking, “i’m ojiro aran.”

“i know,” you respond back. “that volleyball player.”

your droning voice doesn’t make him flinch back as you hope.

“i hope i’m not overstepping, but i can tell that you’re not the happiest with — ” finally he hesitates, flicking the sugar packets, eyes tracing over your face. you make it a point to not return the eye contact.

“look. i’m not sure if it’s because of me, or you’re not happy with the idea of soulmates in general.” he overlooks the way your fingers twitch around your mug. “and i’m not going to force you to do anything, because i can tell that you’re on edge right now.”

he lowers himself so he’s not towering over you, balancing on his toes, still toying with the condiments on your table.

“to tell you the truth, i’m a bit of a romantic,” something sweet starts slipping into his voice. “i can tell that you aren’t. we don’t have to rush into anything, say the word and we can forget we ever met. but i think this can work out. we just need to pace to our comfort levels.”

and as you stare into his eyes, him squatting in front of you and holding your still shaking hands, the utter care, eyes almost pleading, and a soft smile that he’s emitting, it makes you feel peace for the first time. the stains of melancholy in your bones start to fade, and pastel green leaks from the sides of your cheeks making the corners of your lips involuntarily twitch up.

maybe, just maybe this’ll work out.

• • •

it’s been months, and aran’s learnt more about you than you know. he’s picked up that you despise physical affection just as much as the rain, but that you crave the heat from his body.

he thinks about you constantly. he replays your ‘dates that aren’t dates’ on repeat at practice, printing your face in his head on his morning runs, and he welcomes that metallic bitter that comes with you before he goes to sleep.

you’re standoffishness is soft and appealing at first glance, like antimony you taste like. the more time he’s in your presence, the more that lack of intimacy burns at his eyes, and his lungs. his hands sting with rejection every time you inch and shrug away from his touch or grimace when he laughs at your half-jokes. he knows there’s a separate woman bedded underneath. he saw her at the restaurant, he sees it whenever you watch the sunset. he notices it most behind the closed doors of his apartment.

he’s come to appreciate your hands. your hands convey the things you’re too nervous to say. he can feel the adoration pulsing underneath the fragile skin in your fingers and your wrists, whispering the things you can’t always say out loud. they speak to your sense of comfort with him, the vulnerability you only show with him. the way they sneak under his shirt to run down his smooth back when you're cold, only to pull back and hope he didn’t catch your slip up.

he notices the chipped polish that you pick at when you're stressed over deadlines. how your hands shrink in comparison to every part of him, tracing the callouses and scars from decades worth of volleyball. he loves how you bring his hands up to kiss on his knuckles after hours in bed, before you make up excuses as to why you can’t spend the night.

much to your annoyance, it makes him want to try that much harder.

• • •

love. a complicated, sinister, four letter word you never thought you were built for. you think about it a lot, in tandem with aran. probably too much to be healthy. he’s the first thing you think of when you wake up, plaguing your mind as you work, and leaving you always wondering what time he goes to sleep.

it's embarrassing. the three hours you spend with him every weekend has turned you into some sort of sap, haunted with his musky scent, that soft smile and that embarrassing craving for him to pat your head again. like your some fucking puppy. and you swear, that syrupy green apple taste is stained into your taste buds, it’s seeped into your bones and ruined you.

the last thing he deserves is you. you know that. but he doesn’t think that, he’s letting that metallic taste run him around lovesick. he makes you feel blistered; every touch and adoring glance burns into your flesh in permanent, achy reminders. he has your number, knows where you live. but he respects you and the distance you’ve placed.

he’s getting too comfortable too quickly, and he keeps surprising you with how patient he is. he’s adaptive, tenderhearted, almost philanthropic with the way he took in the charity case of you.

it didn’t pan out the way you expected the first few months. you expected failure, for him to snap at your constant rejections and complaints. apparently, experiences with his childhood friends prepared him for you.

he's too helpful of a person, wanting to talk about feelings and cooking you food when you didn’t ask for it. it scared you, how fast he accepted this soulmate thing, how fast he was able to care. his hugs lasted too long. he's suffocating you in adoration and care, and you can tell he’s almost to the point of being in love with you.

poor aran. you’ve been destined to be with this man, who’s been destined to be alone since birth, all because the universe promised you to him.

you know you’re going to destroy this beautiful bond that the universe crafted. you’re bitter and mean and unable to open yourself up to him; he almost knows nothing about you, and you know almost everything about him. you know how his younger sister wants to become a physical therapist, how the owner of that little onigiri shop has been one of his best friends for almost two decades. and you know his favorite food’s ritz crackers, that he’s a morning person. he loves dogs and hates horror films, and his two greatest joys are his family and volleyball.

there’s an unspoken hint that he wants you to join the former.

and it’s unfair; who wouldn’t fall in love with that scar on his neck. you try to focus on his bad parts, of which he only has one. his stupid dog, adzuki. that mammoth of a german sheperd that follows you around, places it’s paws on your lap when you come over for dinner.

he laughs every time you grimace at him, looks like we both have a weak spot for you.

• • •

you shatter his heart on the first year anniversary since you’ve been bonded. you were already dangling by a heart string, and that little band of gold and red he gifts you is where you force yourself to draw the line.

all you can think about is how you need to abandon him before either of you get too attached. you’re teetering on the edge of ignoring your gut instincts, of collapsing into him, wanting to let him see the shattered pieces inside you. but then he’ll do something as mundane as calling you over for dinner, and you remember.

he terrifies you.

there’s a reason you haven’t spent the night again. the intimacy of you and him, and his ugly dog, and that picture frame of your date at the beach hung right next to one of his family portraits.

he loves too much and too hard, he’s too intense. he makes your skin prickle in hot fireworks, the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight with unease. he’s beautifully passionate about everything he lays his eyes on. he lives life to the fullest and all of a sudden, you want that too. he makes you crave domesticity, waking up next to warm umber hands tracing patterns in your skin, cooking breakfast together, a house in tokyo. a wedding band on your finger.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

you remember the dulling of gray eyes, and his hunched over figure bathed in the ashy violet rays of the sun setting. you try to hold onto that flavor of green before you swallow it for the last time, saliva and tears welling up, before you press one last kiss on his cheek before stepping out. pastel green fades to emerald fades to black. you can’t taste apples or sumac anymore.

no, as much as you wanted to be, you weren’t built for love.

#aran x reader #aran fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! x reader #soulmate collab #aran #collabee <3 #this is my 1000th post... im leaving #ty sm to lee + emi for editing my 3am ramblings :*#and 2 annie for hosting the collab wooo

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houseforarmys · 4 years

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SO CUTE(｡♥‿♥｡) There was a quote once I think in which you only see black and white and the moment you meet your soulmate you start seeing colors again! So what if namjinseok all see only black and white and one day, without knowing it, they realize they're neighbors because they all moved in the same pink building and slowly they start seeing colors again, realizing they're all 3 soulmates QnQ It sounds cute imo (ᗒᗨᗕ)

that is super cute :( lowkey wondering how life would be if that were true, now i'm gonna daydream about the idea of love🥺

pairing: namjinseok

genre: fluff

seokjin was, mostly, a hopeless romantic. but with the idea of life being colorless, it was complicated to preach. he slept with a smile, thinking of how pink would feel or how yellow would make his stomach turn. other days, he slept with tears because he didn't get to feel those yet. he hoped his love life would happen, maybe not soon, but if it just happened, someday, he'd be satisfied.

it wasn't that he lived to love like that, but to grow that bond with someone was something he had always wanted. in a way, the dreams of falling in love were accompanied by the fear of ending like his brother, dating a woman but still seeing black and white.

he sighed as he left the clothes' box on the floor. the last place where he lived had been hell, because it had many lovers that smiled and named colors and it made his blood boil. that new place, however, it seemed to be better.

then it came a knock, and he looked back to the door beford hanging the shirt and walking towards it. the moment he opened it, he pulled his welcoming smile and welcomed the stranger.

"hey, how can i help you?" a simple question requires a simple answer, seokjin thought. and then he met that guy, namjoon, who he learnt in one go that was few years younger than him, a student in the biology university department and whose desk had terribly fallen after he had sat on it. "oh, uh, sure?" he replied, uncertain, after the question of asking for help was done.

"great! thanks!" namjoon replied.

seokjin was fucking sure white had never been that bright. he shook the thought off because after all it was just that, white.

once inside namjoon's place he smiled, because it smelled nice and by the looks of it, it felt warm. there was a second guy –which namjoon explained was hoseok, the same age as his, in the dance department and the guy that rented the room in the house– that caught seokjin's attention as he was nothing but smiles and laughter at the mess in namjoon's room.

"well you see, i thought there were extra-"

"i think he got the idea, joon," hoseok said and seokjin smiled. white was still too bright for his liking.

"oh yeah!" namjoon replied, grabbing a round pot and hugging it close to his stomach. seokjin smiled.

"well, i am not expert in building furnitures but i may need some help to lift it and to grab that wooden plank under it. i'd say that's a leg of the desk," seokjin said. namjoon nodded and hoseok took the first step closer to help him lift what was left of the surface of the desk.

with namjoon crouching and getting the leg of the desk, seokjin and hoseok let go. but when seokjin turned around, he decided it was the best moment to break his strike of three weeks without cursing.

"holy fuck," he said looking at the other two. namjoon looked behind, as if anything had been there all the time and it had scared seokjin. hoseok kept his eyes straight. "do, do you see it too?" he asked, eyes on hoseok.

hoseok, with soft brown hair, tan smile made out of honey and sunrays. a bright green sweater with orange words all over it and wooden brown pants that fit perfectly with his shade of eye color.

"yeah," hoseok replied, almost out of breath.

"what? there's nothing there," namjoon said, and then he turned to look at them. "oh my god! my house walls are pink?"

"are you serious? namjoon, look at any of us!" hoseok replied.

"oh uh, woah! jin hyung, your hair is black! it suits you!" he said and jin chuckled. "this is gonna sound ridiculous but i love the blue of your shirt, hyung,"

"i love the purple of your shirt too, joon," he smiled.

"and holy shit, hoseok! you always wear such neon colors?"

"i never knew they were neon!"

namjoon laughed, hugging the plank close as he smiled seeing the other two react awkwardly. hoseok stood in place, seokjin too but looking around blaming his curiosity to have his eyes unfocused. namjoon however just laughed.

"can we go to a museum? a park! or a botanic garden! i don't know, i just want to see the colors of nature!" he said. "please?"

and honestly, they had met each other for less than forty minutes but yeah, they found themselves unable to say no to namjoon's excitement. seokjin found his hand being linked with hoseok's once outside, with namjoon walking around from every plant, taking pics and reading all the information given about it.

now, seokjin understood why every single person in love never shut the hell up. he'd make sure to do the same.

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the-satellite · 3 years

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Hello friends and welcome to ☆Hateful Nostalgia☆. I was exposed to the mob talker mod WAY too young bc I was an unsupervised child on the internet watching mod showcases and SkyDoesMinecraft. Looking back these sucked, the stories were often bland and the designs were milk toast at best and tits out at worst. So for the sake of procrastinating on working on anything substantial I grabbed the main 6 I remembered and gussied em up. Redesigns, rewrites, better names, all that bullshit. If your interested in better photos, design notes, story details and rambling hit the basement, otherwise here's a line up you should click for better quality.

Also I wrote all this once before already but I deleted it like a dumb bitch. On the night Unus Annus was murdered in front of my eyes no less. Was a rough fuckin night.

The Creeper- Kupa. An explosive pyromaniac with a habit of making empty threats and yelling. She protects what she believes to be her territory with a suicidal passion, but if you manage to get her to cool down and soften up she's pretty sick to hand out with. Hard of hearing, has at least one bout of head trauma at all times, and deathly allergic to cats.

Because the creeper is kinda the og I wanted to reference AT2's design more than the others, but I'm p sure the only thing I actually kept was the red hair and brown gloves. Otherwise I was doing whatever. I really wanted to lean into the explody bit of creepers, so I gave her some bite and dressed her in clothes referenced from Irish railroad workers. This may also be why I keep imaging her with a very heavy Irish or Scottish accent, whichever would be most incomprehensible when angry. Every color but her skin was color picked from one of the references, with some minor alterations for makes my eyes happy reasons.

With Kupa I imagine a story line with her would largely be about her as a character and her development than like an actual adventure narrative like everyone else. She starts off ready to blow up both you and herself in a misguided attempt to defend what she sees as her's and opens up and learns not everyone is out to get her. Lots of time taken to understand her childhood and how she ended up how she is. Very simple, probably the default or tutorial run people would go through.

The Zombie- Bee. The ill husk of a missing explorer suffering from a less than conventional appetite. She wallows in her self imposed loneliness, believing herself to be an irredeemable monster doomed to hurt those around her. What she really needs is a buddy and some clue to who she used to be. Rough voiced, chronically fatigued, and prone to spontaneous combustion in sunlight.

I definitely consider this one the weakest for design sadly. I imagined Zombies as humans who went into strange caves and caverns and didn't come out for years, only to pop up as completely different people. I just tossed AT2's design. The first thing I did was make her a bit of a genderbent Steve and tinted her green bc Zombies in game are just Steve but green. Tore up her clothes, colored picked the darkest colors I could from the clothes on the in game and boom, Bee. I do vaguely regret not making her eyes pure black but I also still wanted her to be human enough to fit with the other overworld mods.

Ok so Bee actually has a basic story. When you meet her she's aggressive, but as a warning. She fears the possibility she may hurt somebody so heads for threats immediately. Going back and forth between her cave and village for a while you learn more about the situation with the missing folks who come back and Bee as a person. After a bit you pick her up off her depressed ass and start a nocturnal adventure of refinding your past, adapting to who your becoming, overcoming self destuction, and slow burn babey!!!

The Skeleton- Ulna. One of the few surviving warriors of a now destroyed kingdom and dead culture. She spends most of her time now traveling alone, hiding in trees and shooting anything see sees as a threat- which is everything- in the face with homemade arrows. Very much suffering from loss of her home and a bad case of lost purpose. A woman of few words, very antisocial, and naturally nocturnal.

I came in with the Skeleton wanting to make her seem mysterious, so my first thought was immediately a cloak and a mask, but I wanted her face to like be visible so I went with the face paint. I didn't actually know that I wanted to do under there so I went with wraps that are reminiscent of the original outfit but still not tits out bc it's so fucking easy! Gave her a quiver, color picked the cloak and face paint from the in game model and the wraps from AT2'S art. I did like. Subconsciously draw her eyes the way I do Asian characters but I didn't have anything specific in mind so like go nuts with what you think she is.

Ulna's deal is very much her lack of purpose or home and the entire thing is about finding that again. She's found sitting up in a tree during a storm pointing a bow and arrow into your face. She eventually let's you stick around until the storm is over and theres some bonding into deep night until the rain stops. You ask if she wants to come with on your little travelling sword for hire business, she says sure, sleep schedule shenanigans, backstory angst, and road trip bonding happens and she eventually decides that helping people is her new purpose and you're her new home

The Spider- Park. A young adult experiencing the world for the first time through her tribe's rite of passage. She's really just trying to figure out how to live life outside of the cave she's been stuck in her entire life and aggressively trying to be an independent adult despite not knowing anything about being an independent adult. Its projection. Blind in the daylight, naive and excitable, and taken to refusing help at her own risk.

Ok so. I don't know who looked at the spider and said "purple haired loli with puffy pants" so I once again yeeted the whole thing, only really keeping the kinda cutesy and childish bits. Spiders are a tribe of humans what live in caves unless they've broken off to live on the surface. Kids are kept inside until they hit a certain milestone, where they come up to explore at night. They're usually small and pale, but are pretty kickass when necessary. Again picked the colors off the in game model, played with the lightest gray for the skin, and bc I couldn't figure out anyway to use the stripes so they're on the patches lol.

Park's meeting is probably the funniest and most meet cute one here, in that she accidentally drops on top of you from a little cliff drop off. Cue loads of apologies and an explanation about the spider deal and being blind in light. She asks for some help getting around and bam babey friendship and emotional attachment! What follows is kinda a buddy of coming of age story with the obligatory goes home and is miserable scene. Generally it's just about being a scared young adult and having someone to fall back on and why that's important. Also crushes and young people being bad at that.

The Blaze- Amber. A demonic entity who would let the world burn and the sun die if it meant she'd get her soul back. She's known for being ruthless, taking souls through force instead of making deals like other Blazes. Keeps this forceful nature even once she's become friendly, makes you do dump shit. Territorial, eyes glow and dim with her life, and runs remarkably warm.

Amber here is the first one I actually did! I was just. Really tired that she was in a bikini. I decided early on I wanted overworld mobs to be human and everyone else was decidedly not, so Blazes are demons who gave up their souls under false pretenses to other Blazes. Because of how little clothes AT2's design wore I had essentially free reign and my thought was immediately to lean on golden knight bc of how Blazes are found protecting fortresses. The gold isn't picked from anything bc I was looser with the colors, but everything else is, and the hair is supposed to represent the smoke. Also the sticks in her hair are blaze rods bc I don't like them just floating around her.

Amber is found in the Nether obviously, protecting a fortress and immediately trying beat your ass and either incinerate you or make you give up your soul. During you prove yourself a p damn good fighter and she makes a deal to show you how Blazes exist and pursade you to give your soul up willingly. Bonding happens and she explains where the souls go and what happened to her. Insert line about how she dug in the sand for her soul until her fingers bleed bc I'm an Arcana freak lol. In general I'd just like her to learn to adapt to who she is now and learning to live life well instead of letting her anger burn her up from the inside out.

The Enderman- Violet. A confused but sweet young bit of void created by and connected to the Ender Dragon. Her relationship with reality is tenuous at best and abusive at worst, making stable existence rather difficult. She doesn't know a name, age, gender, anything about herself aside from that she likes sweaters. Communicates primarily through psychic connections, docile and sweet, and melts like a witch in water.

Violet was incredibly easy, so this may be way short. Endermen are decidedly human shaped void from the End with varying sentience. They're direct extensions of the Ender Dragon, and nobody knows how they're made or where they come from, not even they do. Adventurers who escaped The End say they seem scared of it though. Violet in particular is pretty damn new and extraordinary nonconforming, and I tried to show that with her sweater and ponytail. Once again, literally all colors picked. Definitely the simplest but one of my favs.

Violet is the sweetest meet up I think. As your traveling between villages you notice a strange enderman watching you and plant a little flower in front of her. She picks it and you hear a happy little trill come from you and a pretty voice say thank you in your head. Now you have a tall dark teleporting travel buddy! After a little bit of back and forth she tells you in some broken English that the Ender Dragon made her but she doesnt know how, and that it's bad and needs to be killed for the sake of Endermen and that's the new goal. Spoiler they're the corrupted souls of those that died fighting it, with it gone Endermen are free to exist as their own being and do whatever, hurray!

#cosmic entity's art #minecraft #mob talker mod #mc creeper #mc zombie #mc skeleton #mc spider #mc blaze #mc enderman #character design

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