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#which I like crunchy but only when it's MEANT to be crunchy
dan-crimes · 1 year
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I gotta complain abt being a picky eater here for a sec cuz I'm lookin @ all this stuff on the breakfast menu and there's always the SAME ingredients in all these SAME food items and it would be SO much easier if I could just order food without having to think of all the stuff I DON'T want on my food cuz I always gotta put in so much effort to look into every single ingredient in every since food item that I order bcuz I DON'T LIKE MOST FOODS !!! SMHH !!
#mostly making a post abt this cuz there are ppl out there who think picky eaters are just childish and need to grow up#as if I'm CHOOSING to be a picky eater#and they call it childish cuz they think ppl just don't wanna be healthy and eat veggies and it's not THAT bad or whatever#THE THING IS! I FUCKING LOVE VEGETABLES!! THAT LITERALLY PROVES IT'S NOT PEOPLE JUST THROWING HISSY FITS !!!!#I literally LOVE fruits and veggies and I'm honestly not a big fan of candy like I enjoy it but I have a pretty low limit for em#like I could just eat tons of fruits and veggies no problem but candy makes me sick if I eat more than a few of em#snacks on the other hand like chips and nuts and granola and stuff are a different story#which btw my family does NOT have the same taste buds as me they are all SUPER unhealthy and I like the most healthy foods#not including my outer family members I mean immediate ones that I actually care abt and effect my food palete#ANYWAYS I will say I don't like tomatos that's one of the few I'm not a fan of I don't even really like ketchup that much#tho I have gotten better about spaghetti sauce which I'm sure people would CRY from how plain my pasta is lmao#the sauce is literally called tomato sauce it is LITERALLY tomato sauce it has nothing else in it and it has absolutely no chunks#probably the reason I never had sauce on my spaghetti for so long is cuz it always has CHUNKS in it or little leaf things that would crunch#which I like crunchy but only when it's MEANT to be crunchy#anyway all I'm sayin is it would be nice to get a breakfast burrito but I feel bad changing the order SO MUCH just for me to enjoy it#and most the time other ingredients will get in it regardless and I can't eat it anymore cuz that entire area is infected with the taste#even my Mom thinks I'm crazy for that 🙄 LISTEN IF YOU PUT PEPPERONI ON PIZZA THE FLAVOUR STICKS TO THE PIZZA#DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU TAKE IT OFF THE JUICES THE FLAVOUR IT GOT ON IT I CAN LITERALLY TASTE IT BRO !!!!!#or even a half and half situation if any pepperoni touched MY side of the pizza I am TASTING it and I cannot eat it#trust me it's not a mind thing it has been tested on me before and no one has tricked me into eating it bcuz I simply DO NOT LIKE IT !!#there is no trick to be had I can simply TASTE IT !! smh smh#anyway that is my rant abt being a picky eater quota met for the first half of the year#I have one more I have to make before the end of the year (just saying it'll likely happen is all lmao)
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honeymaki · 3 months
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𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 .。.:*・
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Warnings: mentions of bodily harm, oral sex (f → receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, unneeded religious themes, mentions of body hair; reader has a hydro vision and is from Inazuma.
Words: 6k
Characters: Cyno; mentions of Tighnari as a reluctant tutor.
→ Notes: this is my first fic in honest to god years, proper thought out all consuming insane in the head fic; and I am proud of this.
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The heat of Sumeru was different to the heat of Inazuma, the sweet smelling summers and the cool touch of the vast ocean on your toes were now just memories wisping like the steam that rose from streams, and the breeze that picked up the morning dew drops from leaves larger and thicker than any you had ever seen.
Inazuma summers meant blue ice pops and sweet milk beverages, lounging in you underclothes on the veranda, fanning yourself and whoever was your companion for the day, sucking on juicy melon slices and watching the fishermen bring in their catch of the day down by the shore, the crystal waves just beckoning you in for a much needed swim. The heat there was bearable, almost, with the promise of a fiery red autumn to follow if the sun got high enough and always smelling oh so sweet in the evenings when restaurants and common folk would move their cooking outdoors, smoke from the barbeques dancing in the mellow breeze like rice plumes in their paddy fields, carrying drippings of fat and roasted lavender melons to your nose. If the night was just right, you could just catch the slow baking of Tomoki’s dango, sweet rice cakes lathed with caramel or a soy glaze, both welcomed after hours wandering the slopes beneath Narakumi. 
Sumeru summers, despite only experiencing a few in your recent years, were so stiflingly different and yet, a gentle reminder of what it was like back home. It was definitely - wetter with sweltering days that made it hard to breathe and made way for almost frigid nights, dew settling fat and heavy over the land, clouds gathering to tease a storm but only showering a gentle drizzle. The sprawling fields and jagged islands of Inazuma made way for the jungles and vast forests of Sumeru, sunlight dappled and sparkling no matter the time of day, shining through leaves and spider webs and flowers you had yet to name, catching in the estuaries and ponds snaking across the landscape. And the desert, dry and barren with the formidable beast in the sky baring down at all moments, was teaming with the same greenery as your new residence. You didn’t often venture past Caravan Ribat and the few times you did travel there, the sun was shielded behind great hanging cloths and rugs of immense beauty, some old and worn and some witnessing their first day protecting the residents and travellers of the threshold of the desert. Though the shade and protection of the trees was much more suited to you and your gentle memories of Inazuma, flitting from branch to branch the way you used to with the sea caves and shipwrecks of your home.
Sumeru summers meant ripe Zaytun peaches and crunchy radishes pickled with chilli and mint, sipping on lukewarm water from your pouch but wading through ice cold streams to document new outcrops of lotus’. It meant the constant shout of brightly coloured birds beyond your window, the low hum of traders passing through and offering their wares, the enticing aroma of curries and unleavened breads, both sitting heavy and comfortingly in your belly after every sweltering excursion. 
There were times you missed Inazuma, deeply and painfully, but as it was, fate had called you beyond the services to the Shogunate and beyond the great sea which had previously been barred. The lifting of the decree saw a mass migration of people, some back to their original homes and many off to new, including yourself in the form of a letter from the Akademiya offering to school you in the great city of Sumeru. 
That summer saw your first sea voyage, and your last taste of Inazuman sweetness for many years. The Akademiya was good to you, one of the first Inazumans in an age to study among their natives, bringing your knowledge of Inazuman biology and medicine to their foresight and introducing them to a world of eternity and strange new ways to ferment soybeans. It was difficult to grow accustomed to their culture, their ways and laws, and their itchy uniforms, preferring the loose garb that the forest rangers wore, their bows and their nimble knowledge. Studying under the Amurta discipline was a gentle reminder of home, reading about all sorts from around Teyvat, wishing so dearly to travel even beyond Sumeru to see it all for yourself; sitting at your desk in the early hours of the morning dreaming of the mountains of Liyue and the beauty of the Qingxin that you would find, wondering what it would be like to swim in the waters of Fontain and venture among the ancient forests of Mondstadt. Your love of the forest, of all things green and living and thriving sent you to Gandarva Villa, under the apparently famed and somewhat reluctant mentorage of Tighnari. Reluctant in that upon reading your thesis and realising that you had already submitted your first manuscript, and concluding that he had little idea of the basis of your study and that you had already nearly finished it entirely. 
Inazuma had been closed off, shut to any and all outsiders for a generation, prompting only theories and wild ideas about your archon and her dealings; which lead to a dramatic decline in knowledge flowing from her shores, not only technologically but also botanically. Growing your first successful lavender melon on a rickety trellis in your front garden was talked about for weeks, fuelled only by your multiple displays of how one could cook, eat and utilise it. Food from Inazuma was indeed traded in the cities, but many of the forest rangers rarely ventured into the winding, bustling streets so in between studying and writing up a new version of your manuscript; you took it upon yourself to grow as much as you could from home to share with your new and beloved friends. And the Sumeru summers were the perfect growing conditions to do this, spending your pink and orange evenings pruning the naku weed and spreading straw beneath the amakuno fruits, tending to the delicate blooms of your unsuccessful dendrobiums. 
Which is where you found yourself one calm and thankfully cool evening after feasting with your companions. Knelt on the grass, books and papers surround you and your distinct annoyance, chewing your lip and pondering on the answers you finally found regarding your one nemesis. A single sprout curls and threatens to wither before you, rejecting the sprinkle of water you summon from your palm, looking very sorry for itself; a sad reflection of its carer, 
“I didn’t think I’d have to resort to such sinful methods little one,” you grumble, theory confirmed by the pocketbook of your own writing completed some years ago, “But I promised Tighnari and he looks really silly when he pouts,” as if your words would suddenly spark the sprout into blooming, a crumb of soil instead shuddered and dropped from its crisped leaf in defeat. A creature called out in the distance, wind blew gently through the valley and rustled your papers, concealing the staggering breaths of a person advancing on your delicate little world, and concealing the unsheathing of a small pocket knife. It was clear your intention, fuelled by your field notes and the archived history of Nazuchi Beach, and in a dramatic display; you held your hand out over the sorrowful sprout with the blade kissing your skin. 
A hiss of breath and the nicking pain never came, pressure and a grunt revealed a hand holding your wrist far from the shining lick of the knife. 
“What exactly are you doing?” the familiarity of that gruff voice causes a chill to ripple down your spin, hanging your head with heat in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it was Inazuman custom to sacrifice oneself to plants, dead ones at that,”
“I wasn’t going to entirely sacrifice myself, these plants grow only where blood has been spilt and I'm not going to ask someone else to do it for me, or start a war like they did back home so I figured -,” turning to face him, something catches you off guard. It wasn’t unusual for the General Mahamtra to pass through the valley, even stay for a few nights with his fellows, but it was unusual that he seemed - not quite right, despite still gripping you and staring at you with unimpressed judgement. So much so that you abruptly ended your swotty explanation and tried to pull away from him, to no avail,
“Are you okay? You look kind of unwell?” voice gentle and curious, causing Cyno to tighten his grip on your wrist even more, “Ah ! - you’re hurting me,”
“Where is Tighnari? I need to see him, something has happened…I’ve done something regreful,” even though he seemed to have been speaking perfectly fine a few seconds ago, Cyno suddenly sounded a thousand miles away and almost intoxicated. Eyes glancing around furtively, searching for nothing and everything, specifically your reluctant mentor who currently -,
“He’s away right now, Liyue - ow ! - there was a cooking event he wanted to go to and so I asked if he could pick me up some Violetgrass and also some starconches,” you say through your teeth, struggling out of his grasp and rubbing your wrist, squinting at his figure in the doctor-ish way Tighnari taught you. All of a sudden, he didn’t look much like a General Mahamatra, or even a matra; trying desperately to hide the sways in his body and the shaking of this fists held tightly by his side, tongue dipping out of his mouth to lap at the beads of sweat rolling down his upper lip, eyes red and rimmed dark. Words seem to be a loss for him at the news, swallowing thickly and looking down at his feet, toes digging into the carefully curated moss of your garden,
“What did you eat?” your sharp question stuns him out of his stupor for a moment, scrambling to your feet to assess him properly, “Or drink, but I assume it was something edible that has you sweating like the grand sage in a brothel,”
“Don’t - ,” he spits, “Don’t mock me,” you step back, hands up in submission, face shining with the want to help, 
“I wasn’t Cyno, I promise, Tighnari isn’t here right now so I’m going to help you, but I need you to answer my questions so I can do that,” it occurred to you for a moment that as the General, Cyno probably knew about his friend’s little excursion and yet, came straight to you instead of the Akademiya. But a sharp exhale banished that thought from your mind, 
“In the North, near Vanarana, there were Fatui breaking protocol,” at the mention of the mysterious and mostly unmapped region, you usher Cyno into your humble hut, drawing the wicker shutters and lighting a candle in the dwindling dusk, “they had stolen goods - crests from all over Teyvat, mostly food from Inazuma, some kind of mushroom …,” 
“Oh Cyno, we have both told you never to -,”
“Yeah, yeah, never eat something I can’t name, I know; but it looked like a starshroom, it was glowing and I can obviously name that so, I ate it,” sinking into a chair, Cyno suddenly looked pale in the candlelight, wiping sweat from his brow and shifting his hips beneath your scrutinising gaze,
“Did you say it was glowing? You ate a glowing mushroom?” this was hardly the time for jesting but you couldn’t help but grin, vanishing in a second under Cyno’s scowl, “Tighnari is going to be so mad at you, I thought it was obvious not to go around tasting things that glowed! We teach that to children! And newcomers who have never seen anything like it before,” your berating is only half serious, rummaging around you various knapsacks and baskets for the ingredient you needed to ease his pain, handing him a strip of dried something or other with a kind look, “Chew on this, it should stop the pain in a few seconds but just hang tight okay? I’ll take care of you,”
As much of a mother you seemed around those who made mistakes, berating them sharply before showing them the right way or the solution; Cyno almost felt like a lover to you in the way you cupped his jaw to make sure he was indeed chewing on the bark, stroking the tops of his cheekbones and the round of his collar in search of a rash, fingers soft and methodical, loving in a way he was unsure of whether you used towards other patients. He watched you work, content with his stabilising condition and preparing some kind of drink, back facing him and sweetly busy at your workbench. You were so precise and aged in your movements, picking the right herb and concoction without having to think, mixing them perfectly into a hand thrown cup with an extra spoonful of something for good measure,
“Here,” you sat down in the chair next to him, pressing a cool palm to his forehead beneath his headpiece, “I put some sugar in it to make it a little easier to drink, m’fraid I didn’t have any lavender melon syrup left,” the cup is heavy when you push it towards him, eyes curious and ever watchful, “If you need to throw up then warn me first,”
That struck him as odd. “Why didn’t you make me do that as soon as I arrived here? Surely that’s the first protocol in eating something dangerous?” you jerked your head, an indicator for him to drink and truly, the sugar did nothing to hide the foul taste and Cyno couldn’t hold back the winces and the gags as he swallowed,
“You ate fluorescent fungus, probably a rarer sub-specie that is very similar to the starshroom and native to Inazuma, obviously. The spores would have touched your lips first and as it is a very delicate plant -,” you fiddle with a small pocket book left on the table, showing him a beautiful painted depiction of the yellow-ish fungus he ate, “your saliva would have dissolved it before it even hit your stomach so vomiting would not have done much,” he nods, somewhat in defeat, gulping the last of your concoction with a poorly hidden gag, “We can sit until you feel better if you’d like, I’m surprised you didn’t have worse symptoms. Usually people get hallucinations, fainting, loss of limb control; the usual when one eats a poisonous mushroom, but you’re strong I guess,” you steal a glance at his body reclined and tense in the chair, “or just resistant,” Cyno doesn’t reply, tilting his head back and taking a shallow breath, still uncomfortable and unwell, “Just relax, it’ll take effect in a little bit, I’ll take care of you while it does,”
There was that strange feeling that made Cyno want to suck in his cheeks and puff out his chest, but it was not all that unfamiliar. Moments like this were common, more so in the recent visits, the ones where he felt like you could be a little more than the Inazuman who knows surprisingly too much. Sat around the fire in the cool nights, palm held in yours, tracing the deep callouses and lines and pretending to be a mage from your home city, making up some jumbo about his future and him suddenly so wishing you were in it; waving at him from down in the valley, wading with the fishes and the fungi, trousers rolled up to your knees and looking just about the happiest he had ever seen you; listening from the shadows as you animatedly retold stories from travelling around Watatsumi and foraging the pearls hidden beneath the glowing waters, an eagerly fond look twinkling in his eye; slyly asking about you at the Akedamiya, wondering about your studies and pretending to be interested in your thesis when all he could see was your printed name at the top of the manuscript; times when you thought he couldn’t see you looking at him with his headpiece off, a cut on his brow or a set of cards on the table in front of him, noticing your longing gaze and keeping it safe for the lonely nights in the desert. 
You were looking at him now, thinking he was resting, allowing your eyes to trace the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft skin of his stomach and the trunks of his thighs, spread and inviting. It takes all he has not to smirk, or flush, or even move. It’s strange, he thinks, he feels almost uncomfortable in that he desperately wants to do something about it, in an all the more wanton way. Makes him feel wound up, on edge almost, biting his tongue and scrunching his toes in case he might stand up and simply confess. 
“How do I know if I’m hallucinating?” Cyno knows he isn’t, but it fills the heady silence and he hears you readjust yourself, sitting up a little straighter, 
“Well, first of all, you shouldn’t be hallucinating now since the medicine should be working,” there’s concern in your voice, licking like a lover over his ears, feeling you press forward and he feels you caress his closed eyelid, “look at me? Why could you be hallucinating now?” he’s lazy in aiding your poking and prodding, allowing you to remove his headpiece and place it on the table, blinking blearily, “Describe what you are feeling please, and what you’re seeing,” 
“I’m not sure how to describe it,” he grumbles after a moment in gathering his thoughts, struggling in your close proximity, “You’re so close, it’s interfering with my concentration,” you furrow your brows, confused and more than concerned, that same soft scowl of a lover settling on your face at his words, “there, you’re doing things and saying things and making me feel things I’m not accustomed to, it feels wrong; like it and you and all this shouldn’t be here,”
“And so, you think that you’re experiencing a hallucination of what exactly?” you feel for a temperature, sitting back in your chair at his leaning forwards into the touch of your hand, “I’m not sure you’re hallucinating Cyno, your vitals are - ,” precise fingers dig into the doughy, giving skin under his chin to feel for a pulse, finding it strong and fluttering like a small bird, “Let me get you something to drink, water this time I promise,” you’re not angry with his feigning symptoms, or that concerned at his apparent anxiety, not berating him in that motherly way like you usually do and that only causes his pulse to rocket higher and the anxiety creep further into his gut. You’re acting in that way again, sweet eyes and a sweeter voice, like honey, fetching him a cool welcomed cup of water in the way such as after a night of -
You distinctly remember hearing absolute silence in the seconds between you standing to get your guest some water, and then feeling his imposing presence behind you, close enough to feel his breath on the back of your neck. Time stops at the sound of his fists clenching by his side, swallowing thickly at the sight of your inviting skin, physically shaking in his restraint,
“I feel like I’m dreaming, like none of this and none of what I am feeling is real,” you’re silent still, barely breathing in the confined space he’d boxed you into, a small corner of your hut with a sink that provided you some much needed physical support. Psychologically however, you were in turmoil. Cyno, the Great General Mahamtra, felt as if he was having a hallucination or some kind of dream in his apparent romantic or lustful pursuit of you, and the implication of what was standing behind you was suddenly too much to bear. 
“I could - pinch you if you’d like,” the voice that leaves you doesn’t sound like your own, shaky and shy, “Dreams aren’t real, you shouldn’t be able to feel or touch or taste in a dream, if you concentrate hard enough,”
A beat passes, filled with sharp, quiet breaths passing between you and it aches that you cannot see what he’s doing, or what he looks like or how he feels. Your heart flutters like a sakura petal in the spring breeze, mouth dropping open when you feel his hands rest on your hips, burning hot through your clothes. Cyno sucks in a breath, lips dry and cool as they part against your neck, tongue darting out to taste the damp saltiness of your skin, 
“I feel you,” he mumbles into your jugular, thick hair sticking to the side of your face and his nails dig into the cushiony flesh of your hips, “I feel you, and you feel - soft, so soft,” hips press into you, strong and hard and fluid, “And you taste like nectar, like honey and wine and - like a dream,”
“It’s been more than enough time for the medicine to take its full effect, you shouldn’t feel any more side effe…Cyno,” his name comes out a sigh at his attaching his mouth fully to your throat, wet and warm and causing your knees to buckle. He catches you, almost, slinging an around around your middle and hoisting you back against him, panting against the back of your neck, 
“I guess you’re right,” one hand grips your wrist, urging you to put down the cup and Cyno lifts it to his lips, nose running down the pulsing veins as it trying to absorb your scent and the effect he has on your pulse, throbbing beneath the delicate skin, “How could this be a dream, a hallucination if I can feel everything, taste you on my tongue, touch you like this?” 
He’s grinding against you, body writhing in tandem with his in response, mouth open with heady gasps and mewls that remind him over and over that not only did you save him from certain madness, but you also were eagerly reciprocating his equally eager advances. Long fingers unlace the ties of your trousers and dip beneath your waistband, instead dragging up into your shirt, loose and comfortable for your planned evening of study, now easily parting like clouds on a blustery day for him. The first touch against your chest sends you shivering into his grip, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast oh so softly and politely before gripping a little firmer, then altogether greedily. Flesh spilling between his fingers, nipple catching on a callous, rough and a little mean but eliciting such a submissive little reaction that Cyno nearly folds forward against you. 
“Please, please, please,” you’re muttering desperately, sacred like you’re saying a prayer, pushing your chest further into his touch and arching your back, “Touch me please,”
“You’re always so polite,” he isn’t much for words, let alone praises but you’re so dear and so sweet in his arms, shivering like a little lamb and even bleating at the slithering of his other hand into your trousers. With his face still nuzzling into your neck, Cyno is only just able to hide his distinct devastation at how wet you are, positively soaking your underwear and covering his fingers in honeyed slick. He grips your breast harder, plucking at your nipple at the same luxurious pace as his forefingers sliding through your cunt, slipping sloppily over your clit and you all but howl. You aren’t quite sure what to do with your hands, the one he was previously lathing kisses to was now somehow tangled in his hair, holding him in place and it’s grounding, it’s anchoring you to the intense, gooey pleasure coursing through your gut. Your other hand is gripping his forearm, the one deep between your thighs or the one greedily fisting your breasts, you aren’t sure but your nails hurt and you think it’s because you’re holding on too tight, but how can you not when too much is happening all at once? 
Cyno feels your arousal coating his hand, palm sticky and fingers pruning with his assault, languid circles over your clit, following the shivers and writhes of your body with grinds and jerks of his own. Gods, he’s so hard that it hurts, and he knows that you’re so close, so fucking close to cumming but he can’t help but still worry if he’s dreaming, if this is all an after effect of his incident, if you’d neglected to tell him how long something like a hallucination could last. He vaguely hears you howl in agonising dejection when he rips his hand from your trousers, strings of arousal glistening in between his fingers in the light and he’s struck with how you’d much prefer to cry over the loss than watch him lick up the mess you’d made. You only just manage to catch his eyes rolling back at the taste, dripping down his wrist, three fingers shoved into his mouth and positively devouring the essence of you. Tears leak down your cheeks, replacing his fingers with your lips in a whirlwind of need and hard, hot desperation, swallowing his surprised grunt with a whine of your own. Cyno doesn’t respond for a moment, shocked at your display of wantonness, tongue licking inside his mouth in a thinly veiled attempt at tasting your own arousal and his grip on you suddenly becomes all the more fierce. 
“I can’t - I can’t -,” your kisses grow sloppy with your begs, struggling to pull your trousers down, almost losing your balance and it pains Cyno to part from you for even a second to disrobe himself. Red eyes follow your every movement, toeing off your shoes and ungracefully kicking away your trousers, bending over for a moment and it takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. Nestled between your thighs, dripping and plump, the scent of it wounding him to his knees, crawling half dressed over to you,
“Gods - fuck,” eyes fluttering closed at your suprised gasp, tongue darting out to lick gently, lightly like he was licking honey from his finger, catching the leaking drops and feeling his stomach clench, and his cock kick against his thigh. You remain in place, frozen against his curious, pointed licks, flattening his tongue after having his fill and splitting your pussylips with a lewd noise. He could be content between your thighs for the rest of his life, Akademiya be damned, coming home from his duties to this lifeline of saccharine sin that he swallows down greedily and selfishly. The wings of your shirt sit bunched over your hips, sliding low over your ass until he frustratedly fists the cotton against your cheek and spreads you enough to put his whole mouth against you. 
“Cyno! Ah - !” you startle forwards, but he only follows like a worshipper, slurping and swallowing every flutter and every throb of you, fingers digging hard into your thigh and ass to keep himself in place. A tentative hand cards into his hair, a question and his answer was a long, slow moan directly into your cunt, vibrating between your hips and the result was your closeted strength almost shoving him over, nose hitting your clit and causing you to gyrate deliciously. 
That was all he wanted, this drawn out stupor only stabilised by your shuddering grinds against his tongue, palm slapping against the countertop. If you’d allow him, Cyno would do this every day, he’d gladly station himself in the city if he got to taste the heaven between your thighs even for a few seconds in the mornings before he was called in to deal with the country’s worst and the best. It would be a welcome reprieve, one he’d been craving without even knowing it; in the moments alone with you, sacred and secret, soft and sweet and warm. To feel you gushing down his chin, moans reaching their crescendo and legs shaking on your tiptoes, all but sobbing into the crook of your elbow as you cum; it would be worth the sacrifice. 
Cyno felt selfish, detaching himself from your cunt, resting his forehead against the back of your thigh and smoothing his hands over your shuddering calves, down to your ankles and then back up to your ass. 
“Are you okay?” his breath is hot on your skin, and through your gulping pants, you manage to answer with a cracked ‘mhm’. You feel him smile wide and smug, standing and hiccuping at the state of you, slumped against the sink and writhing as if in pain, whole body breathing with your dwindling orgasm, “Come here, I got you,”
Carefully and all too greedily, Cyno scoops your torso against his with his hand angling your jaw, tilting your face up to his. A kiss is pressed to your lips, languid and lazy, a stark contrast to the blunt head of his cock kissing the lips of your cunt. You shudder, unable to return his kisses but trying so desperately to keep his stare, eyes boring into yours as he angles his hips. 
“I got you,” he murmurs a promise, feeling your fingers lace with his over your throat, watching your lids flutter as he presses into you, “Stay with me, I got you I promise, just a little more,” 
Breathy and fleeting, Cyno recites his words like a prayer, thrusting gently and shallowly at your wobbling bottom lip, swallowing your discomforted hiccups. He doesn’t thrust to the hilt like he so dearly wishes to, filling you in one swipe and leaving you reeling - no, he’s slow, methodical, precise and doesn’t break eye contact for even a second. Keeping a firm grip on your jaw, chasing the breaking down of your resolve every inch he slides into you until there’s no more, snug and warm and so fucking wet. He feels you against his pelvis, against his thighs, sticky and warm, shuddering when he kisses you once more, almost like a praise for taking him all the way. 
You’re trying to speak, trying to make any sort of sound but the breath is stolen from your chest when he starts an agonisingly deep grind, up into you, hardly leaving the warmth of your cunt and digging hard into your belly. It feels as though he’s in your throat, eyes never leaving yours and sending you spiralling, gasps turning into whimpers turning into hiccuping sobs of his name with every defying push of his hips. Cyno sees your eyes flutter for a second, lips parted and brushing yours, swallowing every delicious sound you make, responding with grunts of his own in both encouragement and sin. 
“Eyes on me,” he purrs, a crack in his voice at the sudden way you choke him, cunt clenching at the drop in his tone. Cyno shudders, pace slipping and he slides his hand down over the swell of your belly, feeling for the slippery bud of your clit. When he decides to match the slow, heady pushes and pulls of his hips with heavy thrums over your clit, you’re quite unsure of how you manage to stay standing upright. 
“Ah - ! Cyno !” he never falters, not even when you grind back up against him, not even when you try to lick into his mouth for even a semblance of grounding, not even when you cum so hard that fat tears roll down your cheeks, not even when you finally catch your voice and reach back to grip hard at his hair, “Again, make me cum again please,” you beg, “Please Cyno, please - inside, cum inside, make it deep - please,”
Begging didn’t seem to be about your usual person, the one he knew that shared their meals and knowledge with anyone who asked, so to hear it fall from the heaven of your lips was surely his downfall. It was unexpected, it tore a deep and long snarl from his chest, grinds turning into thrusts turning into something damning and gut wrenching. The fingers on your clit were kinder, swift circles to keep you leaking down your thighs but the cock battering your sensitive walls was less so. 
He never stops watching you though, even when you reach a second completion, all the more messier and sloppier than the first, red heavy eyes boring into yours without faltering for even a second. Cyno presses his forehead to yours, the angle causing your neck to ache but it goes unnoticed through the life giving pleasure he brings you, with every greedy slam of his pelvis against your ass. Lips touch yours in the moment he cums, eyes finally snapping shut and you think he looks beautiful through the fog of your orgasm; illuminated by the candle light, sweat flecking his brow, hair mussed and tangled in your fingers. Jaw ticking with every twitch of his cock deep inside of you, warmth spreading through your hips and thighs, feeling his hand flatten over your stomach as a kind of worship, caressing the space he fills so deliciously. 
“I - ,” he swallows heavily, 
“It’s okay,” is the first thing you can think of, “I wanted it too,” Cyno’s eyes open and he searches your face, “For… a while,”
It feels like eternity before he answers, nudging his nose against yours affectionately,
“Would it surprise you to admit I felt the same? That I waited far too long, and chose a rather idiotic time to do it?” the corner of his lips lift in a smirk,
“Honestly and with your track record? Not really, you have a bad habit of keeping things to yourself,” with bated breath you lean to kiss him softly, “But so do I, I guess,”
Cyno clenches his jaw as he pulls away from you, surveying the mess of your coupling before surveying the mess between your thighs. He flushes dark, lust threatening red again at the white threatening to spill to the floor, 
“Here, let me - help you,” he aids in removing your soiled shirt, using that as a rag between your thighs and he hisses along with your protests at the sensitivity, “I’m sorry, I’ll be gentler next time, I promise,” you aren’t shy in your nudity, how could you really? And you turn to Cyno with heated cheeks, 
“Next time? When - urm - when do you plan on having a next time?” Goosebumps flurry over your arms, nipples perking in the coolness of the night and Cyno can’t help but reach out, cupping the weight of your breast and sighing at the feeling, “I can’t, not right now - that’s too soon Cyno! You gotta let me rest! Don’t be so - !”
And he laughs. Full and loud and hearty, gripping you and embracing you and kissing you with laughter wrinkling his face, craning you backwards and swaying you to and fro. You squeal, thighs tacky and sticky but following his movements, allowing him to swing you over to your cot on the far wall. 
“I would never defile you without asking, and not before tasting you thoroughly too,” Cyno kneels before you, a covenant and their disciple, hands tucked together in prayer, “And besides, I’m still questioning whether this is a dream,”
“I could pinch you, again, if you like?” You draw your blanket up around your shoulders, sliding backwards further on to the bed, noticing for the first time that Cyno still had a majority of his upper clothing on and there was something about the exposure of his abdomen, the ripples of his muscles, the thatch of white hair trailing down from his belly button to his cock resting between his thighs that gets you all tingly and warm again. He folds himself into the small space with you, catlike and flexible, kissing your forehead with a hum, 
“Maybe in a few hours, I’ll probably wake up and need a splash of something on my face to remind me I’m not hallucinating,” it takes you a second to catch on, hiding your face in your hands with a mortified groan and Cyno laughs again, gathering you close, keeping your quaint reaction to his terrible joke a secret, a safe little slice of heaven only for him to enjoy. In the back of his mind, he remembers suddenly that out of everyone; you’re the only one who entertained his jokes and silly puns, and the first time you genuinely laughed at one was also probably the first time he decided that he loves you. The word chases tails in his mind as he succumbs to sleep, tucked up against you and keeping his lips firmly pressed to your forehead, an imprint of himself for you to feel even when he wasn’t there.
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Copyright of honeymaki. Please do not repost, translate or upload to any other media sites or ai engines.
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txttletale · 7 months
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Wtf is Lancer and why is it shit (serious question)
lancer is a tabletop roleplaying game made by the guy who drew kill six billion demons and another guy. i wouldn't call it 'shit', necessarily--it's good in a lot of the ways that matter. it's first and foremost a tactical mech combat game and on that level it's incredible. its ruleset is finely tuned, provides great amounts of GM support to make running what might otherwise be overwhelmingly crunchy combat easier, and has a truly stunning and cool level of character customization available. so as a game, i think it's great fun to play and run, genuinely innovative, and a huge step forward for battlemap tactical wargame type TTRPGs in general.
the lore though, kind of sucks. i think it has two clear and overlapping core problems. problem #1 is that it is a utopia as envisioned by a social democrat. it's a world which the text describes as 'post-capitalist' (but there are still evil megacorporations with private armies who own slaves) and 'post-scarcity' (but only in the developed 'core' systems, so. y'know. there's scarcity). at many points in the text they say that Union (the game's main faction) is utopian, throwing around that exact word a bunch of times as well as 'mutual aid' and 'direct action' and the like. but what they describe is just kind of an imperialist Space Sweden with several distinct forms of slavery that constantly expands and uses its Benevolent Imperial Power to intervene on the Backwards Violent Worlds on its outer border but its good because its just trying to bring them UBI.
to show what i mean, here's one of the game's writers¹ talking about how it would be morally wrong for Union to, say, appropriate the property of a private military corporation that also operates as a fascist nation-state:
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it's 'revolution' as imagined by the limpest of social democrats. and of course this would honestly be fine, whatever, most sci-fi settings are fundamentally achingly liberal, but the game goes so out of its way to signpost how Radical it is and how Hopeful and Liberationist you're meant to see the setting as
the other core problem is closely related--it feels like the lancer guys put every cool sci-fi idea they had into lancer even when it completely clashes with the core ideas behind it. like, AIs in this settings are callled 'NHPs' (non-human persons) and they're eldritch god-like beings from another dimension who have be kept 'shackled' (lancer's words, not mine!) to keep them as pliant and obedient AI assistants instead of hostile eldritch abominations. this is obviously horrifying and dystopian but it rules, it would be sick fucking worldbuilding for something with the tone of 40k or a one-off doctor who or star trek episode--but as a fundamental technology foundational to what we are supposed to believe is a post-revolutionary society founded on mutual aid and solidarity and blah blah blah it's glaringly dissonant.
bear in mind this is all just going off the rulebook. lancer fans have told me that the supplements and campaign modules fix some of this or contextualise it. but on the other hand communists have told me that they make it worse and i trust the communists more. i leave you with this incredible passage from the game's foreword:
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heybiji · 3 months
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hi!!! i just wanted to say i really love all of your MASKS stuff. i'm something of a newbie when it comes to the TTRPG community, but MASKS seems to be not very well-known and i think that's a real shame. i'm a huge fan of old-school superhero-adjacent stuff, especially the silver- and bronze-age ones!
by the way, i was wondering if you'd be willing to share some tips for a first-time GM? you don't have to if you'd rather not! i just figured i'd try asking since i was planning on GMing a MASKS campaign for some of my friends later, but despite my decade's worth of roleplaying experience i've never been in a TTRPG campaign nor a GM (or similar) role before
Thank you so much!! I was just lamenting about how I felt bad for the MASKS tag because it is now flooded with all my npc nonsense hahah so this is really nice to hear.
It's awesome you're planning on running a MASKS game for your friends!! There is an indispensable post on twitter I saw that has a LOT of great tips for running MASKS that I recommend checking out. But for my own personal tips that are just me things, here's what I got. Sorry it's gonna be extremely long-winded, it may take a few months to read through it.
(Note: I am also hugely into RP and probably put more into it than what is necessary, especially with MASKS which is meant to be able to be played out of the box. It was definitely not played out of the box in our case because I require a lot out of myself and everyone else to feel good about running something. if anyone else wants to continue seeing me as a normal human being please don't click the Keep Reading)
Since you're running it, make the world interesting to you. If the world runs around themes you're personally interested in then you'll have a much easier time coming up with answers on the fly. For me, themes I'm interested in that lend themselves well to a superhero world: money, power, family, celebrity, media, the 24 hour news cycle and the desensitization of violence. Because I'm interested in this stuff anyway, wrapping a world around them makes it much simpler for me to figure out how the world ticks and thus how the characters fit into it and how the world reacts to them, and I am DESPERATE to find out how the characters react to all the questions and expectations the world is imposing upon them.
Make sure your players have a good grasp of the tone of story so they can make characters that gel well within it. For me the tone is a lil more adult because I'm not personally into younger morality tale stories in tone, it's pretty grounded, and I think comedy and tragedy work hand in hand so I lean into them.
Talk. A lot. Talk about the characters, talk about the world. MASKS is fun because it's a LOT of talking and figuring out the narrative together. It's not a lot of crunchy mechanics, it's all around seeing how the characters react to the world narratively, all hurt and comfort and emotions which (for me) requires people to have a good grasp on their characters and the world. I like to give my players "homework" where I ask them a question involving their characters in some way like "what hero did your character look up to as a child?" so they get to come up with past heroes, or "How does your character feel about _____?" etc etc. The only fans are gonna be your table and fans love to talk so be the biggest fans of the PCs!!
Figure out your framing. I know in MASKS they suggest framing it like a comic book, and basically talking about the frames on screen. For me, because I'm more into movies and tv than comics, I frame it like that. So I have an active "camera" in play during sessions and will ask things like "would anyone like to grab the camera?" to encourage the players to put the character into a scene or "what does the audience see as the camera focuses in on your character in this emotional moment?" There is a LOT of playing up to the camera and framing the sessions as episodes of a show, so it's like, okay, you have several options but what is going to be interesting for the audience to see? I find this encourages the players to have their characters take bigger swings and feel comfortable letting us into how their character is feeling because it all looks GREAT on camera. The camera loves it. The PCs are the story after all.
Because I frame it a show, I also like to play individual ending songs over the "credits" at the end of each episode. So I asked my players to make playlists for their characters so if I feel an episode had a lot of emotional focus on one character in particular, I can play one of their songs at the end of the episode! I also made a general MASKS playlist with a bunch of songs from the era we set it in (2004) to pull from. It's a fun little addition that I really enjoy and that I hope makes it all feel more special.
The Dino Donut Effect: create landmarks in your world. (OK THIS IS GONNA BE LONG BUT WORK WITH ME HERE) They don't have to be locations, more solid landmarks of the story that the characters can refer back to and lean on to make the world feel more "real." I call it the Dino Donut Effect because in our world the thing that made everything click into place was talking out the backstory of one of the PC's figuring out they had the power negation ability. We were talking one night trying to figure it out; we wanted the character to fall out of a building and be caught by a flying superhero and accidentally turn off their powers, so they toss the kid to another flying supe whose powers also get turned off. But we were like... holy shit what is the height of a building needed that can handle this much action in the air without them hitting the ground in 3 seconds. So after a long night of talking about terminal velocity and looking at Splat Calculators we figured out the height of the building, and we needed them to crash into something that wouldn't fuckin kill them. The first suggestion was a truck full of bananas. Nah. We landed on a giant balloon that could take the impact. And the balloon became a giant T-Rex holding a donut that was the mascot of the city's beloved decades old donut shop Dino Donut. And so we decided that one of the two flying supes grabbed onto the kid and the other and flew into the giant balloon to try and keep them all alive, which destroyed the balloon, which was a city institution, and there was a crowd of children there that day that saw their friend Dino Donut die. Killed by a superhero. The balloon deflated loudly so it sounded like Dino Donut was screaming in agony. All the kids were traumatized (screaming crying throwing up), the city was furious because everyone loved Dino Donut, it was constantly in the news cycle, and it ruined the career of the supe that "killed Dino Donut." AND THEN THEY REPLACED THE DINO DONUT BALLOON WITH A LAME "UPDATED DESIGN" DINO DONUT STATUE which everyone hates and people consider to be a memorial to the old Dino Donut. ANYWAY, the Dino Donut effect is that now all the PCs have one single incident to refer back to that they all have feelings about. A couple of them were there that day and heard Dino Donut scream, one is now the protege of the disgraced superhero that killed Dino Donut so she feels uncomfortable talking about it, there's the kid that was saved that day but was sworn to secrecy by the supe so no one would find out about his power negation ability, and then there's the kid that wasn't there because she's an alien that just arrived to earth and now the kids have to explain the incident to her with all their varying opinions. Now the PCs' meeting spot is at a Dino Donut. Having this one solid incident that is both funny and kind of goes into the themes of the world has been an absolute treat. Creating "landmarks" like that in the world has done so much and now I'm like okay I'm gonna try to do this moving forward with any other thing I run.
anyway these are my extremely specific to me tips. my RP standards are kind of high which makes me a bit of a terror but also when the flowers bloom from it it feels GREAT. i'm not sure if this will help but hopefully there is something there that can be useful!
MASKS is fun and simple once you get the hang of it, though, so I'm sure whatever you do you and your players will have a lot of fun! especially if you're someone who is into RP which is the background I'm coming from too; MASKS is extremely narrative! i'll be looking in the tag for your game hehe
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(The Day Dino Donut Died art by JD)
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crushedgraham · 8 months
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Headcanons for female reader who’s dating Mercy and Widowmaker when reader is sick? :)
Poly! Mercy x Widowmaker x Sick Gf
i didn't know if you meant poly or separate so i just did poly 🥲
update: IM SO SORRY IM TAKING SO LONG WITH REQUESTS, im getting kinda busy with school but i promise to have most requests done on the weekend!
babe you're literally dating a world renowned doctor.
you'll be getting the BEST treatments on the market
but that also means she won't have much time to take care of you...
she can take like 2 days off at most
which is why she writes out long, intricate instructions on how to take care of you for amélie
in my opinion amélie thinks sickness is disgusting.
like whenever you have a crunchy cough or you throw up, she'll have to physically hold back from making a disgusted face
but she pushes through for you
amélie wont spend that much time in the same room as you because she doesn't want to get sick, but she will occasionally come into your room to check up on you
(i feel like her immune systems much weaker now that her heart beats so slowly)
whenever she does visit you, she sends a short text to angela to keep her informed
she may seem cold and nonchalant about your sickness but when she thinks your asleep, she'll sit on the edge of the bed and kiss stroke your sweaty hair
amélie will press her cool palm to your forehead in hopes of relieving your fever
seeing you so weak and broken down sends an ache deep into her heart
she'll complain to angela about how she can barely sleep in a bed with others, especially when one's "infested with diseases" but when the angel comes back from work shes welcomed with the sight of amélies arm wrapped protectively around your waist to keep the fever away as you two sleep soundly
angelas heart Explodes.
after carefully renewing the cool towel on your forehead and checking your temperature, she'll start taking pictures of you two from EVERY angle
her pictures aren't really the best but it's cute!
she makes it her lockscreen and she'll open her phone in between shifts just to look at the picture with a love sick smile
once shes all cleaned up, she'll slide into bed in one of your oversized t-shirts and whisper a small "goodnight liebling, goodnight schatz"
in the morning, angela's exhausted since she usually sleeps in after long shifts but she forces herself to get up so she can take care of you
she sits up in bed for a good amount of time just trying to gather all of her energy to get out bed
but before she can move another muscle, a cool hand is on her wrist, gently tugging her back
"rest. i can take care of her"
the angel eagerly lays back into the bed and knocks out almost instantly
though she wakes up only about an hour later to the smell of burning...chicken??
she quickly rushes to the source of the smell until shes face to face with amélie who's scrubbing away at a blackened pot
empty cans of chicken noodle soup litter the counters
amélie turns around with the burnt pot in her hand and a sponge in the other and they just stare at each other for a moment
"do not say anything."
"i didnt plan to, how about we grab breakfast at that café you love so much?"
"oui, ange"
they walk to the nearby café together, talking about how their days went
"YOU FED HER BURNT SOUP TWICE???"
yeah...at least you got delicious pastries to make up for those...
liebling - darling
schatz - treasure
ange - angel
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batrachised · 5 months
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Adventures in Maud's Recipes
Tomato Jelly Salad
The Recipe
It's been a while since I've picked up LMM's cookbook, after the successes of the New Moon Pie, the cornbread, and the potato soup! I experienced hit after hit - New Moon pie was light and delectable, the cornbread a taste of Eden, and the potato soup apparently academy award worthy. Why at this point, I thought to myself, I should trust Maud's judgement implicitly when it comes to the dinner table. But then I pondered: I'd only tried the recipes that are difficult to get wrong. What if I tried one of the more out there recipes? Cornbread is one thing; raisin pie another. I considered my options. There was dandelion wine, but that required wild dandelions and I didn't feel like curling up with a book and a glass of pesticide; salmon jello molds (yes, really) but that was too much for me (there are some paths even I dare not tread for the sake of lm montgomery); or, I found, there was the aforementioned tomato jelly salad. This salad involves tomato juice, vinegar, onion, sugar (hold on, now we get crazy) which you combine with gelatine to make a jello (keep holding on) and then while the molds are forming, you add a vegetable such as peas or cabbage. For the crunch, I suppose. After all, everyone wants their jello to be crunchy. For obvious reasons, I hesitated. While I do not hate jello, I am suspicious of jello combined with tomatos and peas. In fact, it took me months to build up the emotional resilience to try. Yet, try, I have, and you shall hear of it.
The Results
After a rather disastrous mold experience (I made the mistake of pouring into a floppy dish instead of a metal one, thus meaning any movement of the dish resulted in tomato jello liquid everywhere), we landed on this:
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Do you see the peas? Waiting, in the jello like little minnows? What's not to like about this presentation? I love all of my meals to look like bloodsoaked peas. I go for "Veggie Tales mass murder" when it comes to meal presentation, personally.
After bravely moving past the Veggie Tales crime scene, I popped a piece out onto a plate. Here's what it looked like out of the mold (featuring wizard hat roommate's banana chips in the background, my food photography skills are truly impeccable):
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That looks vaguely pretty, if it weren't for the peas. One last photo - much like a crime scene, I feel obligated to provide photos from multiple angles. The mold is definitely molding. I suppose you could argue this is vaguely Christmas themed due to the red and green.
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The Review
You're supposed to eat this wrapped in a lettuce leaf, but I detest lettuce leaves in that form and refused to do so. I would take this pure, raw, unfiltered by any form. Wizard Hat Roommate insisted on watching as I took the first bite. Tremulously, I took up the fork. Would it taste all right? Would the texture be too much? Would Lucy Maud deliver? I paused, then boldly took a bite.
I want you to imagine the flavor of ketchup. Then I want you to imagine this flavor transmitted via the medium of jello. Then on top of that, as the cherry on this veggie tales sundae, I want you to imagine this ketchup has peas in it. Needless to say: I did not enjoy it. It tasted wrong...disordered...as if the earth itself shuddered as I bit into it. Is this how Frankenstein felt, feeling his creation lurking in every corner of the world? Haunted by the work of his own two hands?
Okay, in all honesty: it wasn't that bad. It wasn't good, but it wasn't bad. The taste was okay - I didn't like it but it wasn't disgusting. The texture was weird - I didn't like it but it wasn't disgusting. The two combined admittedly pushed it, but it only toed the line of being gag worthy.
It didn't help that the color of the jello meant my subconscious kept expecting a sweet cherry flavor, only for my mouth to meet vinegary tomato and peas. Ketchup jello with peas on top is not for me personally, though I won't speak for anyone else. Wizard Hat Roommate insisted on trying one, and actually finished hers. She described it as something she'd never make, but she could eat. We shall see if Clifford Roommate has the same opinion.
So, what would I rate this? Well, if a zero is a mouse in a pudding sauce, and a ten is Susan's monkey paws, I rate it Aunt Martha's ditto served cold and topped with peas.
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golvio · 11 months
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Really not thrilled with the general trend I’ve been seeing of people being like, “Ganondorf’s motive is that he’s Literally Just Demise! He’s a direct continuation of Demise’s existence, who remembers Hylia and all the events of Skyward Sword and is acting on that, and literally nothing else about his backstory matters! ☺️”
Like…no? Even if you’re a total newbie who’s only ever played TotK, he was pretty clearly a Gerudo who was reacting negatively to Rauru’s rule, even if the English translation didn’t really go into detail about why. And he hates Zelda because she’s Rauru’s sole surviving heir in the present and was the one person who actually posed a threat to his plans, considering Rauru’s general hubris and ineffectuality meant he could only serve as a stopgap (and even then, not a super effective one, given that the seal was already leaking 10,000 years ago) while Zelda could actually destroy Ganon after Link softened him up for her. By that point, Hylia’s been dead ingame for like a zillion years and is only remembered as a crunchy granola nature goddess instead of an artificer, and isn’t mentioned by any of the major characters including Ganondorf in flashbacks because Fujibayashi couldn’t stand the thought of accidentally having a woman in an important role that’s not “your mom/your girlfriend who smiles and waits for you on the sidelines” in Skyward Sword and now needs to make a self-sacrificing salaryman father figure who’s emotionally neglectful but trying his best even if His Ungrateful Kids Just Don’t Understand How Much He’s Sacrificed To Support Them (and also just happens to be absolute king of everything) the center of attention in every story he directs.
TotK Ganondorf may not mention much about his motives in the English version beyond “Hrrrgh! I hate the world and wanna destroy it because I came outta the womb all intrinsically mean and bad! I wanna stay up late and ride across the plains on my favorite horsie with all my monster friends all day long!” which is about the caliber of writing SkSw gave to Demise. However, he also never mentions Hylia. He never mentions having mysterious visions of any past life as Demise, or the voice of a dead dark god telling him what to do. Ganon’s motives are firmly grounded in the present, informed by the life he’s lived. Demise himself, at least in the English translation, never said that he himself would return, merely “an incarnation of his hatred,” presumably someone who’d step into the role of causing problems for Zelda and Link’s descendants. He never specified who, or that it would only be one person forever. Ganondorf just happened to be the most “successful” and longest lasting one because he just so happens to be exactly the kind of tenacious bastard who never lets go of a grudge who’s a natural fit for the cosmic “Professional No. 1 Hater” role.
Like, stop acting like who Ganondorf is and his motives don’t matter Because Demise. He’s pretty clearly not Demise or a mere extension of Demise, even if his Demon King form is superficially similar to Demise from a distance. (Not to mention even the superficial details of DK!Ganon’s design point to him being a human who turned into a demon like a kijo or oni as opposed to a “natural born” demon like Demise).
And, like…if you’re going to accept lazy writing while speculating about TotK’s plot or writing your own fic, at least accept what’s actually there instead of making your own even lazier assumptions. At least try to use your imagination and get curious when you’re speculating on what Ganondorf’s friggin’ problem was! Even Original Japanese Script!Demise got a teensy bit of depth with wanting to take over the world so his children could rule over the earth.
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skoople · 1 year
Text
astronaut food
i've been meaning to outline the eating habits of the main wolf 359 characters. specifically, what do they eat and drink, what do they enjoy, what are their kitchen sins, how do they eat, and why. this is going to be a combination of canon, implications, and my personal read on them. let's get right into it:
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DR. ALEXANDER HILBERT
his view on eating is utilitarian to the point of reddit-ness, and he'll often go without meals to get something done or to prove a point (see: Succulent Rat-Killing Tar, What's Up Doc). his palate is a very "get what you can out of whatever you can" approach without considering much in the way of taste or texture (seaweed coffee is his invention). HOWEVER! hilbert has one prized treat that is his achilles heel/autism samefood: Pecan Pie (see: Mission Mishaps Cold Turkey). i think it's got a unique texture, and a comforting smell that meshes with his suppressed desire for family and safety well.
kitchen sin: he regards the human need and desire for food as both frivolous and an unfortunate necessity.
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LIEUTENANT RENÉE MINKOWSKI
she definitely enjoys fruit, or she wouldn't've cryogenically sealed a Braeburn apple (which are excellent for baking or dehydrating, btw) and brought it to space (see: What's Up Doc). she's also a planning type, and i think an efficient and tasty meal that involves the preparation and presentation of a fancy yogurt bowl is a favorite of hers and a dietary staple. minkowski is highly conscious of table manners, although that slacks a bit on the hephaestus, because she's eating across the table from hilbert and eiffel, for god's sake. still, clean and organized is her food philosophy. she owns possibly the only tupperware collection on the planet that includes every matching lid. the wine has almost no canon basis, and is mostly just a nod to voice actor Emma Shierr-Ziarko's own love and knowledge of wines.
kitchen sin: she thinks a clif bar counts as a real dinner if it's a weeknight.
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CAPTAIN ISABEL LOVELACE
lovelace's favorite food is appetizers for the whole table, a team pizza party, a big awesome-smelling potluck, or anything meant to be shared. for her, eating is a casual and (more importantly) a communal activity. the social engagement from a loud brunch will nourish her just as much as the food does. besides that, i think she likes chocolate with nuts in it (e.g. snickers, chocolate covered almonds, rocky road ice cream, etc), but one of her favorite desserts is probably a strawberry milkshake. maybe it's a way to make up for all the protein shakes and high-efficiency smoothies (that taste like wet cement) she has to chug on account of the intense way she lives and works.
kitchen sin: she is a vulture if anyone else is cooking or eating. "you gonna eat that?" and picking off searing hot pans and baking sheets. she's really just curious but she never asks until its already burning her mouth.
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COLONEL WARREN KEPLER
ok, the drink is a given. it's even on his official wolf 359 store merchandise. he likes the feel of it in his hand. but what does kepler eat? when does he eat? in private, obviously. his job is an exercise in restraint and perception, and he is his job (see: A Matter of Perspective). monsters under the bed don't need to eat, and they certainly won't be that vulnerable in front of a superior. but he's still a person, so i struggled a lot trying to figure out what he would crave. fish tacos, biscuits and gravy, and a loaded chicago hot dog were all floated, but the only meal i could picture kepler ordering where anyone could see him was lamb with mint sauce. it's expensive, recognizable, difficult to cook exactly right, and almost bloody.
kitchen sin: he will go out of his way to make you feel bad about what you're eating no matter what it actually is. he doesn't even have to say anything, he'll just glance at you or shift his posture slightly.
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DANIEL JACOBI
this is a guy who loves to snack (see: Time To Kill. pringles: popped). he likes crunchy, salty snacks a lot, but it's more about the activity than the taste. that doesn't stop him from ritualistically complaining (see: Mission Mishaps No Complaints). he takes his time eating, but he doesn't pay much attention to it, which is why the longevity of a slushy is a favorite of his. jacobi lives off road snacks, but will find a way to complain about the points of a michelin star. he just likes bitching! the stinky cheese (see: Need To Know) pictured is a baked Camembert, because it's my post and i get to pick the cheese. Camembert is one of my personal favorites, but it can be fairly pricy and is a pain to clean up, which doesn't matter to jacobi (goddard company credit card please!)
kitchen sin: he spends an excruciatingly long time on any meal to the point where, if he had his way, they'd bleed into each other by taking an average of one bite every 15 minutes.
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DR. ALANA MAXWELL
the drink pictured is a rockstar energy, but whatever legal(ish) stimulants can get inside her body the most effectively is maxwell's favorite. she eats a lot of takeout (see: Mission Mishaps Happy Holidays) because it's quick when she forgets to eat all day and it's tasty and she has the pay grade for it. she grew up in a tiny nowhere town that was in all likelihood at least partially a food desert, and her family dinner table warranted a restraining order, so i think in her adult life she tries to get as far away from that as possible. this often manifests in trying all the outlandishly spicy things she can get her greasy mitts on, because she is both inquisitive and masochistic. fuego takis are pictured because theyre a staple snack that jacobi will buy for her if she promises to share (she's lying and will eat the whole bag)
kitchen sin: she allows the nearly-empty cans, bottles, bowls, and bags to sit out and fester. once every 2 weeks she sets a timer and rushes through dumping it all into a giant black trash bag so that she doesn't get an infestation of ants again.
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OFFICER DOUGLAS F. EIFFEL
and the "F" stands for food! eiffel definitely spends the most time talking about food. he's hungry! since his eating habits are so prominent in the show, i figured a compilation of his food and drink moments in canon would work a little bit better than my own personal extrapolation. excerpts from Limbo and Boléro were omitted.
kitchen sin: while some people might argue that pineapple on pizza belongs in this spot, i am not so judgemental. i just want him to eat from dishes that aren't visibly dirty.
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HERA
[insert byte joke]
kitchen sin: she doesn't have a mouth.
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bonnvivre · 4 months
Text
a funny thing- ch 24/25 word dump
WUAHAHAHA 4AM BABEY YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS
i’ve been cookin low and slow with this one and i mean real slow like. too slow . as in 2 weeks later whoops
this one’s a real doozy so grab a snack
FIRST PAGE ON THE GOSUKU TAG WHEN YOU SORT BY KUDOS LETS GOOOOOOO major rweiser W
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ch 24
thinking abt yuuji flying down the sidewalk and megumi becoming the equivalent of a flag whipping behind him pls yuuji not everyone can keep up 😭
fred says fuck
mmmmmm crunchy cookies i love me some egg shell
yeah with cooking, you can play around with the measurements and adjust along the way, but baking is whole different beast :[ i made creme brulee for our new year dinner, my first time baking actually, and i was terrified the entire process cus one wrong step and its over (they turned out good in the end, though i wanted to leave it in the fridge longer) 
sukuna and uraume on the same wavelength love that
daww megumi just be a kid its okay 
gojo’s nicknames for toji PLS father-fushi and fraidy-guro
hehehe he technically called sukuna pretty ,, i agree
LMAOOOOO AINT NO WAYY OFC HE SABOTAGED HIM 
i feel like toji would actually do well in getting sales (if he had the proper cookies) considering he’s “a pro at freeloading off women” which leads me to believe he’s got hella charisma . 
“Fushiguro stops just before the table, one hand balled into a fist so tight, the muscles of his arm are easy to see, flexing dangerously beneath his skin.” uwwheheheerhfbud sorry
OH SHT THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING YOOOOOOOO AND SUKUNA JUMPING IN FOR GOJO ???? in front of the kids in a school fundraiser is crazy lmao
pinky
gojo taking bets on who’s gonna win reminded me of mei mei betting on the gojo-sukuna fight
i had a crazy amount of secondhand embarrassment going thru that hhhhhh yknow that feeling when you just wanna curl up and cover ur eyes and you’re fighting to even look back ? yeaaaaa
“Hurting people is bad. And you’re not bad!” ohh yuuji ughhh he has no idea of what sukuna was before, that he’s done more than hurt people .. children really only see the side of their parents that they’ve allowed to show them. it’s why kids usually think the highest of them, so yuuji saying that sukuna’s not bad gets me cus he’s known and seen only the best of him. but it makes me feel gooey inside cus, while everyone else sees the former king of curses, yuuji sees his dad and when he does eventually find out, he’ll still always be his dad before anything else (does this make sense i hope it makes sense im trying to make my thoughts coherent)
oh hey they’re talking abt it !
I GASPED OH MY GOD PLEAS EOLASOE APLEAS EPLAS EPALEAPSLEAPSH NOOOOOOOOO FFGGHGBBVV HITTING MY BED GRFGHJVNGRRAAGGHHFEG
im being tortured i thinj you’re trying to kill me here this is the worst case of edging ive ever had in my life (no not like that) 
post-chapter notes:
IM ALREAYD RIOTING YASTOP BLUE BALLING ME
id read real housewives of jujutsu sorcery
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ch 25
GRADE 1 ?? AS IN ONE ?? AS IN  O N E  ?? AS IN, YUUJI IS NO LONGER A PRESCHOOLER
when you said small time-skip, i thought you meant a few months later . i was wrong
aight time to update the time board: yuuji’s in first grade so he’s 6 yrs old, we’re in 2013 now (i think), gojo is 24 yrs old  23 yrs old (chap takes place during summer, bday not passed yet)
it’s 2013, he can get a 3ds now :D im gonna get him on smash bros . OR KID ICARUS UPRISING IT SHOULD BE OUT ALREADY
they should totally name the potential pet after me (jk)
OKAYYYY THATS A START HE KISSED HIM ON THE HEAD !! WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE :O now go lower. preferably on the li
oh yeah yeah definitely not together whatever helps you sleep at night man
im gonna need the bad bitches birthday bash one-shot someday with the way shoko’s bringing it up
the fact gojo’s heard the threat so many times before that he can finish it and brush it off
CANDY CRUSH  !!?!??
AWWWWWW THATS ADORABLE ;____; sukuna wanting to do something to surprise gojo’s first day as a teacher and yuuji suggesting to make a cake cus he knows his daddy loves sweets AND they spent the whole day prepping awawawawaw so cutee
they called on uraume for help too LOL poor them 
yuuji being a snitch HA i can’t help but think of my siblings
you can’t be serious gojo, not after that? people also don’t usually sleep and cuddle the homies cmon man
mother is mothering and mother is leading the herd (no but i love how he adapted to the role very easily, likely to prior experience)
whuh the fundraiser was last year ? am i overthinking the timeframe … ok im back after going thru the calendar that makes sense 👍 carry on wait hold on first semester of first grade ended so they’re on break ... summer break ?? unless this is going off of a different schooling system (oh yeah duh japan lol)
ohhh please let them meet mama-guro i can imagine the absolute shock on their faces trying to comprehend how someone like toji managed to marry someone like her 😭 bonus points if toji is much more softer around her too and the sheer whiplash of seeing him having ANY sort of loving side is enough to send gosuku into a spiral
“It’s exactly the type of thing Sukuna would never be caught dead wearing, which means Satoru must do all in his near-infinite power to make him wear it.” real
THESE THREE ARE RIDICULOUS LMAOOOOOO sorry kids your fathers are busy trying to one-up each other
“But, then again, these are just go-karts; how much damage could he really do?” famous last words before disaster
oh no
hey sukuna’s living life at least he’s having fun and that’s all that matters 🥰
not the pyramid projectiles
CONICAL AMMO !?$&7)-)26 MARIO KART IRL GONE WRONG oh my god its too late for this i need to sleep
OH MY GOD ?????? 
WHADDYA MEAN THEY’RE GONE ??????
post chap notes:
what just happened
no really what jusr happened
the amount of times i’ve said oh my god throughout the entire go-kart scene i was clutching my pearls
he recreates his reign in the silliest ways, all while wearing nice little red bow :3
nah i get it the entire first arc was dedicated to how messed up he was abt suguru so i understand the doubts but they’ve also near kissed multiple times .. unless they were super down with kissing the homies 
“I sure hope nothing bad has happened to them...” STOP
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im2tired4usernames · 3 months
Text
@oceanlaceagate
Well ok you asked for explaining so I'm so sorry about the rant that's bound to happen I have beef with this woman like many many MANY homeschool co-op mothers I would like to meet her IN THE PIT
uh I guess trigger warning possibly would be like food diets and possibly eating disorders I'm not sure but I would rather be safe then accidentally harm you friend?
my mother was a crunchy homeschool nutter and her entire social group was crazy homeschool mom cultists.They were all obsessed with clean godly eating and losing weight they constantly kept repeating that they needed to treat their bodies like temples and it really wasn't healthy or good for so many reasons.
well one of the women in that group for as long as i can remember (I've know this lady since I was a lil kid) she believes it's impossible for European women to get fat because of *spins the wheel*
She just has some fucked up made up facts about Europe in general like WARNING SHE'S ACTUALLY ON PURPOSE STUPID
like she has for as long as I can remember believed with E V E R Y FIBER in her body (i have argued so much with her she will not budge in her world this is fact) no one once they hit preteens in france eats bread.
France home of the croissant, baguette and many other carbs bready bakery wonders...
Yeah no one there eats bread that is why French women are so thin and healthy they don't eat bread or any kind of sweets! (She and my mom then tried to make me do that for a bit they were always "suggesting" diets on me it sucked in expecting the thm diet and the melted butter+coffee+ apple cider vinegar diet to have fucked up my body somehow)
Apartly in her world no one in Ireland uses any kind of fat when I asked her to explain wtf that meant she said no one in Ireland uses oil or butter which like..
No that makes no sense where did she even come up with that?!I
Once I took a picture of like some fancy imported butter from Ireland at the store to show her and she and the other moms all straight up walked away and would not look at it. They would not talk to me kept actually doin the "talk to the hand" thing and covering their ears and telling me I'm wrong and stupid and to shut up they will not look at the evidence.
This woman is in her late forties to early fifties she has convinced half the homeschool mother cult that no one in France eats bread with no evidence other then she said so!!!!!
They honest to God believe it also!!!!
Recently she was trying to tell me that no one in the UK eats chicken that it's "looked down on as a disgusting poor man's food" she just went on n on on this long crazy rant that made no sense at all but she acted like she was very intelligent and cultured for knowing this.
My best friend and wife is from the UK and frankly i quickly asked them and they were able to point out this lady is just batshit insane.
Like my wife mentioned there's Nandos everywhere in the UK and that serves chicken mainly I have no clue where she's getting her info or ideas.
She got super angry amd defensive and has gone off saying she has two sources "two very reliable very real and very British people who totally aren't made up there her real Facebook friends that told her yup no one in the uk eats chicken only the USA makes fried chicken poor England is missing out on chicken because they're a bunch of snobs who think it's poor people food" so that's what she believes despite a lot of common sense and evidence to prove otherwise but "how dare I question an elder?!'
I really can't explain it like there's no logic or facts in it I myself don't understand it? I have gotten into many fights with this women.
So many fight
so so so many fights
Stupid amounts of fights
not just over this but like over everything under the sun I swear this woman is living a different reality then everyone else.
she just makes stuff up on a fly and then somehow convinces herself and like a dozen other women in they're 40s-50s that everyone in Europe is significantly skinner because they just happen to not eat the food that one lady dislikes...
like I can't really explain more then that this woman has no evidence, refuses to listen to evidence and has the firmest faith in stupidity I've ever seen it's truly kinda terrifying i wish i had her self confidence but also just wow....
I don't think that she's normal I think a lot of American children do actually learn about other countries? I learned about other countries when I was really young my mom would focus on one a month and then I'd have to do a lil presentation at the end of the month in front of my grandad and we'd cook a meal with some traditional foods from there if possible I had a lot of fun learning recipes from all over the world and we'd get a monthly cd with music from all over the world it was so cool! one of my favorite games when I was little with my grandad was he'd spin the globe point at random n then i had to say thw county, the capital, a famous food item from there and one history fact is famous person if I knew one and it was SO MUCH FUN!!!
maybe it's a new homeschool thing or a church thing or maybe this lady is just straight up purposely stupid I'm not sure? I have no fuckin clue this woman is insane I avoid her every chance I can.
#rants#ignore me I'm stupid#just yeah#she was one of my mom's bffs and lord she made life hell#Narnia a book written by a Catholic man with DJ much religious imagery and symbolism in every single book in the book series#and progressively gets more n more christan the further into the series you get#was evil and satanic#she yelled at me for liking old yeller#she was CRAZY#but the scary thing is she got a lot of women believing her every word especially European diet shit it was CRAZY#only Americans have addresses no one else dose i guess according to her she got my grandma to believe that for a bit until i pointed out#THE MILLIONS OF BOOKS WRITTEN BY A BILLION AUTHORS ALL OVER THE WORLD THAT MENTION ATREET NAMES AND ADDRESSES#LIKE EXAMPLES PRIDE N PREJUDICE AND SHERLOCK HOLMES HABE ADDRESSES MENTIONED#JUST TWO BOOKS NOT WRITTEN BY AMERICAN OR RECENT WITH ADDRESSES#that got my gran to think a bit but that lady thinks they must have been influenced by Americans aomehow shes SO STUPID IT FILLS ME W RAGE#her daughter told me jesus didn't eat seafood and seafood was unbibical#i.... I do not understand#like do you know where jesus lived do you know what some of his friend's jobs was or like the sermon on the Mount#dis you not read the Bible? why you mad ay me for eating all the time#now that i think of it a lot of times her crazy food things tend to be things i was currently eating kr talking about that i enjoyed eating#huh#weirdo lady#she yelled at me for eating two Oreos once#like yeah i wasn't being greedy but yeah she really got mad over that#now that my mom's passed she texts me randomly because she misses my mom n i think she wants me to fill the void i feel kinda bad for her#but i can't#i can't be her friend not after the shit she influenced my mom too be so cruel to me in the name of God growing up#i will not be her friend#that and she's stupid ofcorse people eat chicken bread and butter that's kinda the most basic human foods i feel like#EVERYBODY HAS BREAD EVERYWHERE BREAD IS THE MOST HUMAN THING
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naehja · 1 year
Note
I have a question- Have we ever seen Robin-sensei's familiar? I watched the show on Crunchy Roll and I'm trying to obtain the manga or novel version (I've conflicting reports on what to look for or even available yet) to catch up on the reading, but.
I read a post somewhere about how each demon has a secret, parallel to Iruma's. Such as, the theory that Clara doesn't have wings and Asmodeous chooses to use fire magic instead of his bloodline ability, Shichiro-sensei has his face mask, etc.
But the first day of class, Robin Bars had the class show off their summons, but he didn't show off his, and I don't recall ever hearing about his familiar either.
And there are instances, similar to Kalego-sensei's, where they don't have a familiar, but instead have something else. Or that student I learned about who may summon a familiar in the future. Is Robin teaching a class he doesn't have any experience in? He goes on and on about 'strengthening the bonds' between the summoner and the familiar, but he didn't demonstrate his bond with his own familiar.
Has this been addressed? (There's a nagging thought I had from the test to gain entry to Royal One, and the Battra Party- the teachers have a lot of abilities, but I didn't see any long range abilities, such as Robin's one hit ability. Is Robin the only long range fighter on the staff? Which led to the thought- is Robin there only to be a teacher? Or did Chairman Sullivan navigate to protect his students with the next best archer after Bachiko- since she's a candidate?) Ah, sorry. That was meant to be one question. What is Robin Bars familiar? And if we don't know, when do you think we'll find out?
Hum
I will say that it's likely a bird. Maybe a kind of demonic eagle? Or a demonic hawk? A bird know for have piercing eyes. Who sees their prev from far away and dives from the sky to catch them!
yes, probably a bird of prey.
I would say that the hawk is more likely.
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im-an-anthusiast · 1 month
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I'll Let You Have a Bite
Maxwell couldn’t see the man up in the tree. He couldn’t see much of anything, not ever since he lost his eyes. Yet, the presence of Magic – which he could usually feel permeating and infusing every inch of the world around him – had a suspiciously human-silhouette-shaped hole torn into it. And Maxwell could tell what – or who that meant by now.
“Albion.”
“Maxy! Dear, what a surprise it is to see ya!” Albion drawled out, taking a loud bite out of something crunchy and juicy.
“You are in my backyard. Can’t be that much of a surprise. And do not call me that,” Maxwell replied, keeping his voice flat and trying not to let his annoyance seep into it.
Albion laughed softly, bringing the something to his lips again – which Maxwell couldn’t help but notice was gushing with Magic. Magic wholly distinct from that all around them, only similar to one thing Maxwell has ever felt before.
Albion exclaimed, “Smart boy. I knew you’d sense it right away.” He continued, asking sweetly, “Tell me, what d’ya feel when you look at it, dear?” In reply, Maxwell merely did his best to point his eyeless gaze at Albion, who - with a chuckle - added, “Oh, you know what I mean. Sorry Maxy.” Maxwell scowled in response – but focused on Albion’s snack. It seemed to be in the shape of an apple, and most of its Magic was gathered along its outer edges. The Magic itself felt oddly mixed. Maxwell was taught that everything in the world was either infused with Magic – no matter the intensity – or it wasn’t. Yet the apple felt like a coalescence of the two, both devoid of Magic yet brimming with it, projecting it outward. Much like Maxwell’s own flesh was.
Maxwell’s features tugged into a frown, and he flexed his jaw in thought. "I sense... something. Something I don't understand. However, I can hardly think it is very special, if you're here bothering me about it. And eating it with such an... appetite," he said matter-of-factly, though a slight sneer – further denoting his last point – did grace his face. Albion made a loud sound with his mouth in response, (poorly) imitating a buzzer. “Not quite, my dearest Max, ‘tis something very special – an Epli."
“And that is...?”
“An Iðun’s apple – they're quite legendary. I had expected Erin to have told you a hundred times over by now.”
“She’s hasn't had much of a taste for mythology these days. And we haven’t talked in a while anyway.”
“Ah, right. The drama. The point is, these are very sought-after. They’re said to have kept 'em Norse “Gods” youthful," Albion said before scoffing and taking yet another bite.
“And you’re explaining your beauty plan to me... why exactly?”
“Figured you’d want a bite.”
“May I?” Maxwell asked inquisitively, raising an eyebrow.
Albion burst out laughing. “That looks creepy as all fuck, honey...” he said, before sobering up and turning his voice serious, “Seriously, don’t do that. That shit is scary. You need eyes.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“So impatient.”
Annoyedly, Maxwell held out his hand and stared at where he hoped Albion’s eyes were. He was heavily considering wiggling his eyebrows again for good measure. Albion’s response was a hum, as if in mock thought – before he spoke up, “I’ll let you have a bite if you let me have one.”
Maxwell startled and retracted his hand, but Albion continued – the levity in his voice slowly dropping, “You can tell it’s just like you, can’t you? You’ve got enough Hexstarved blood to sense it. You play dumb, but you’re a smart, smart boy.”
“Once again, what is the point of this?”
Albion spoke again, and Maxwell could hear the smile return to his voice, “Epli are very expensive, Maxwell. They are made with the processed flesh and blood of your kind. You’re not careful enough, you know? Half-breeds like you are oh, so rare. And after what your father did to you,” Maxwell tensed, “you are especially unique. Which means that there are plenty of people who will want a taste. And we certainly don’t want that happening.”
Maxwell growled through gritted teeth, “People like you?” Albion retorted, “Exactly like me.” A hungry intensity oozing and dripping off his every word. Suddenly, the gap in Magic – indicating where Albion was – moved swiftly. Maxwell just barely didn’t flinch as the void appeared right in front of him – less empty than it felt before. He felt Albion’s hot, sweet breath on his face. His hand immediately darted to Albion’s grasp, snatching the Epli out of his hand. “It isn’t of much use to you, anyway. We both know old age is not what you have to fear.” Albion whispered, and any trace of him – of his absence of Magic – disappeared. Maxwell could feel his own Magic festering and buzzing at his fingertips painfully as it started flowing into that loathsome apple, which had been growing heavier in his hand ever since he grabbed it. A golden nugget, shaped much like the eaten-around core of an apple, dropped into the soft grass silently.
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oathkeeperoxas · 1 year
Note
AO3 wrapped!
Respond to this with what you would call the top 5 fanfics you’ve read in 2022. Any genre! Any ship! (Bonus points: if you’re a creator, make this a 5+1 and include your favorite fic you wrote in 2022!)
Then leave this in your friends’ asks too. Let’s give creators one more spotlight before the year ends, and share some of what we’ve enjoyed along the way!
You sending this: haha it'll be a fun way to wrap up the year!
Me for the past 2 weeks thinking about this nonstop every time I have a spare second: what WERE my top fics of 2022??
I've carefully picked out the below, but there are many, many, MANY fics that I enjoyed this year, so picking just 5 was so hard okay 😭 that being said, all of these are codywan recs except one (besides codywan and TOA fic I don't think I read anything else this year... Well, besides The Desert Storm which is an ongoing series, but which I recommend to every person, whether you like Star Wars and whether you like time travel or not). I've posted the below fics in the order I read them so no favouritism in the order they're listed!
this road is meant for two [10.2k] by @skatzaa
“Cody,” came a voice from behind him. The Jedi. The traitor. “Run. Use your jet pack.” “Shut up,” CC-2224 snarled. He could barely see through the pain, but he leveled his blaster rifle again. “I’m not leaving you behind again, General—”
This was my gift for FFFX and let me say I seriously won the jackpot with this one!! It really has so so much tailored for me, like time travel of codywan from tatooine into a clone wars fix it, the angst of purge trooper Cody and him struggling with what he did, trans Obi-Wan, hurt/comfort, established relationship, it was funny, and most importantly, Palps got killed 😊
Good Soldiers [7.2k] by @elwenyere
“Have I ever commended you on the vast array of sentiments you manage to convey with your ‘sirs’?” Obi-Wan asked wryly. “Someday I will persuade you to drop the appearance of formality - at least when you’re telling me I’m full of shit.” “You’re welcome to keep believing that, sir,” Cody allowed. “Everyone needs something to look forward to.” The rest of Obi-Wan’s smile faded, his expression growing thoughtful. “Yes,” he murmured, “I suppose they do.” ----- Or, 5 Times Cody and Obi-Wan Followed Orders + 1 Time They Followed Each Other
I just remember reading this summary, and even before I clicked it I was like YES!!!! This person understands the characters and their dynamic and the prose is excellent, this fic is going to be freaking awesome. And I was right! It balances character growth and plot brilliantly, and the construction of each section is so thoughtful and combines into an incredibly crunchy whole. I was so disappointed when I checked the author's profile to find that this was their only codywan fic, but elwen has since graced us with many excellent works, and I recommend anything that she has written!
Thirty-One Sons, Thirteen Moons [32.7k] by sual
“This can’t keep happening,” Jango says despairingly. He’s said this almost every year for the past twenty-five of them. “Well,” Cody slowly replies, looking down at the squalling baby the witch has left on their doorstep, “what’s one more mouth to feed when you’re already feeding thirty?" - In Cody's latest attempt to sacrifice himself for his family, he finally learns how to want something for himself. Modern AU with magic.
Urban fantasy is my favourite genre, and this fic captures everything I adore about it - the inclusion of magic into the setting is so natural and informs the plot deliciously. I usually am a very hard sell on modern AUs and on relationships of convenience, but the excellent writing and Obi-Wan's gender fuckery got me hooked, and I'm so very glad I gave this one a chance. It's such a great idea, executed super awesomely and the smut throughout is sooo hot augh
Meg & Apollo's Highly Limited Roadtrip Playlist [3.2k] by Curioser [and the prequel as a bonus!]
Fourteen hundred miles. Four radio stations. Two friends trying hard not to kill each other, or to acknowledge the fact that in less than a week, they may never see each other again. And Lizzo. So much Lizzo.
Reading this immediately after finishing the TOA books made me sooooooo emo like you have NO idea!!! Meg and Apollo's relationship was the core part of TOA that I enjoyed the most, and this fic made me see that relationship in a different light, gave me a different view as this is from Meg's POV instead of Apollo's like the books are, and introduced me to a whole bunch of new music too. It feels far too short for the amount of gutpunches contained within - the comparisons between their fathers, their situations and lives, and how they're coping with that, all made me sooo overwhelmed like aaaaaa *insert screaming cat meme* they're best friends. They're best friends!!!!
shelter from the storm [3.1k] by @inkformyblood
A sandstorm means that Cody and Obi-Wan have to spend days inside. They find ways to pass the time. - Obi-Wan’s voice is low and Cody can almost picture his expression despite not quite being able to pick out his features; the incline to his head is almost hungry, his eyes half-lidded and thoughtful. “I’m sure you have several suggestions already.” “Only several?” Cody punctuates the question with a kiss, drawing Obi-Wan’s hand to his mouth rather than chance finding his mouth in the semi-shadows. The split lip hadn’t been worth it with the benefit of hindsight, regardless of how attractive the gesture had seemed at the time. Cody’s lips brush against the rough edge of a bacta patch, an old one worn and reused until it is more placebo than curative, but Cody still skirts around the edge of it, kissing the seams of Obi-Wan’s fingers and tasting salt.
This was another gift for me and it is just so so so good 🥺 I love how magpie writes codywan as the flow between them, their characters, their banter and their relationship is so lovely and amazing! Codywan on tatooine are my favourite version of codywan, and it is nailed here - the yearning and the grief and the closeness that comes from being the only two people in the galaxy. Plus trans Obi-Wan has my whole heart, which was the cherry on top of the rest of this excellent fic
Plus 1 - the favourite fic you wrote in 2022
Whaaaat a question, oof. This was hard, but I've picked the one that I enjoyed writing the most, as well as one I've reread a dozen times or so this year since I think I did a good job in it!
Stand By Me [34.7k] by Serie11
Cody and Obi-Wan renovate a house together out in the Dune Sea. Along the way, they discover something else worth keeping.
I wrote this in like 4 weeks as a gift for Emi, and the process came together to really deliver what I wanted, and Emi really enjoyed it, so it was just a really enjoyable process the whole way through!
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north-blue-hearts · 9 months
Text
Family Practice
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: sex, language, violence
Summary: Modern Mafia-coded AU starts in last semester of College
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Chapter 4: Bonfire
Despite your desire to sleep an ungodly number of hours, you went to bed only a little bit early, and woke up a couple of hours before your alarm. Which was set to give you just enough time to make it downstairs for a free breakfast from the hotel. You turned off the alarm, dragged yourself into the bathroom and started up a shower. Thirty minutes later you were wide awake and brushing out your hair enough to pull it into a damp ponytail.
You: I’m up, and ready for hotel breakfast. Let me know when you’re gtg.
Pre-Med: I’ll be in the hall in a minute.
You pocket your things and head out to the hall, leaning against your door until Law comes out. T-shirt, sweats, and a hoodie - you were both wearing the same style of clothes.
“Pfft - the morning power outfit of college students.” You laugh, pointing between the two of you.
Law grunts and the two of you get down to the lobby which is set up for a breakfast bar for the hotel guests. Loading up on eggs and hash browns and a few other random items you sit in a mostly peaceful corner, joined by Law after a few minutes.
“Coffee, eggs and hash browns. No bagel?” You ask.
“Bread.” He says shortly.
“Bagels aren’t bread. Wait, do you dislike most flour stuff? What about cake?”
“Don’t like it.”
“Pretzels?”
“The crunchy ones are acceptable.”
“So it’s a texture thing?”
“Mostly.”
“Huh. Well, alright then. Do you like pasta or are you getting most of your carbs from rice?”
“Pasta’s alright. I’d rather rice.”
You grin. “I should ask you more questions first thing in the morning more often.”
“How can you say so much so early?” Law groans.
“I mean, I slept more than usual, even if I didn’t sleep in as much as I wanted. Took a shower, got dressed, and by the time I do that I'm awake. No one sees me groggy.”
“No one?”
“No one. Not since I was twelve or thirteen and Marco was trying to drag me out of bed for school.” You assure him, downing the last of your coffee. “Speaking of sleep, your trademark dark circles look lighter today. Are you actually relaxing a little?”
“I’m not stressed.” He insists. “I slept more than usual last night.”
“Mm.” You hum, pressing your lips together.
Law quirks an eyebrow. “What?”
“I was going to say you should consider sleeping more, more often, but if you didn’t look exhausted and stressed all the time your average confession rate would rise. Speaking of,” you say a little more quickly than you meant to. “How’s that been going for you since you made a useful friend like me?”
Law sighed, looking down at his food and hiding his face with the bill of his cap. “It’s lowered.”
“And that makes me a genius.” You insist with a grin.
Law scoffs. “Any issues?”
“Hm? Like jealous college girls giving me hell for hogging all of the soon-to-be-doctor’s free time?” You almost laugh. “It’s not a TV drama, no one’s bothered me. Nutmeg even had me join a group project with her and her gaggle and it was the best group project I’ve ever been on.”
“Oh I guess there was one misunderstanding,” you admit, looking up to the ceiling. “But it was kind of cute.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, someone thought I was your sister. I think they just wanted to know if you were single or not, but when I said we weren’t related she just apologized and walked away.”
You could see his ears turning pink, since they weren’t hidden by the cap.
“Heh, poor little Idol Doctor.” You tease.
Law almost growls. “I’d rather you call me Pre-Med.”
The rest of your morning goes easily, and you both change before heading out for the tour of the city. Law in jeans, boots, a t-shirt and hoodie, you in sneakers, jeans, and three tops - a crop top, long-sleeved shirt and a t-shirt over that. You had a sweater tied around your waist in case you got cold, but unless it rained or snowed you wouldn’t need it.
Your tour of the city was more of a parkour challenge than a walk, and you weren’t surprised as Law kept up with you, mimicking your moves as you slipped through the cityscape. The energetic manner of your tour was enough to wake him up, and enough to make you realize you hadn’t kept in shape since starting college. Struggling on your home turf was a little embarrassing, but you were doing most of the talking, so you didn’t let it bother you too much.
After a few hours you dropped in on the café, getting another set of onigiri from Sanji before heading out again, and making your way to the carnival grounds. Binks’ carnival was one of the last stationary carnivals you were aware of. The place managed to stay open most of the year, shutting down only a couple weeks a year for maintenance, repairs, and upgrades.
The two of you poked at some games and rode some of the rides, but mostly you just meandered around and watched people while the day dragged on. As you left the fairgrounds you ran into another familiar face.
You stood at attention, and put a hand up in a stiff greeting as a man with shock white hair, a scar on his face, and a cigar in his mouth came over to you. He had his partner with him, the fresh-from-the-academy go-getter who had been a classmate of yours.
“Officer Smoker, Miss Tashi- ah, sorry, should I call you officer Tashigi now?” You greeted and questioned at the same time.
“You can call me Tashigi, (y/n), we’re friends.” She says with a smile.
“It’s, uh, nice to see you. I hope you’re both getting Christmas off this year.” You say awkwardly.
“How’s college going, Miss (y/n)?” Smoker inquires.
“Great! I’m really enjoying it, and speaking of, this is my college friend,” you answer, grabbing Law by the arm and dragging him closer to you “- you’ll like him, he’s gonna be a doctor, and his name’s Law. Very respectable.”
“Good luck in your studies.” Tashigi offers cheerfully and Law mutters a quiet thanks.
“Are you going to be in attendance this year?” Smoker asks you, offering only a nod of acknowledgment to Law.
“Of course. I know your opinion, but Pops saved me and raised me.” You answer, your cheerful demeanor slipping away. “He’s also paying for my college, so - augh - forget it, now’s not the time to start arguing. I truly hope you both have a good holiday.” You say, tugging Law with you as you walk away. “Good day, Officers.”
“There’s a lot in that, isn’t there?” Law asks after a few moments, when you finally let his arm go.
You suck in a deep breath and let out a long, heavy, exaggerated sigh.
“Ah.” He says knowingly. “Another time then.”
As you near the street festival’s location you start to move vertically, getting up onto the rooftops. You sit on the edge of a roof and pat the space next to you. The festival is sprawled out below you, soft lights around the vendors and you can see the musicians setting up.
“I thought we’d be down there.”
“We will be, but this is the best seat in the house for the next few minutes.” You assure him as he sits beside you.
“I admit, your perspective is unique.” Law says quietly, watching the growing bustle in the street below.
“Just keep your eyes on the street, should be any second now.” You say, scanning until you find the void you were looking for.
There was a melodic holler in the street that was repeated and echoed down the street just before a small torch of fire was lit and tossed into the void.
The flames bloomed against the dark. The bonfire was a mix of accelerants and slower burning materials, with the wood making up the bulk of it. This helped it catch fire quickly and then stay lit long enough for the logs to catch well. With adjustments and practice, it was made to be ignited by a single torch.
The fire’s strength continued to increase, and the growing roar of flames was swelling with the growing collection of music. A single fiddle became two, and then a trumpet and drums with a bass coming in and voices rising on top of that, singing songs whose words were no longer known. The emotions had stayed and survived, and the flames carried those feelings to the stars.
“… Wow.” Law’s voice was almost breathless, his golden eyes focused on the flames.
“Best seats.” You say with a smile.
You motioned for him to follow after a moment and went down to the fire near the musicians.
“Okay, so hold my hand,” you said, offering your hand, relieved when he took it without complaint. “Now stomp your foot in time with mine.”
“No one else is dancing.” Law pointed out, stomping his foot in time with you.
“They will, don’t panic if someone grabs your hand.” You say, and there’s already people paying attention to the two of you. “And now just keep up!”
You move away from him a little, moving both your feet in time to the music, giving him a chance to adjust as you move faster and faster. You’re barely a yard from the musicians when someone grabs Law’s spare hand, and the line grows quickly from there, nearly full before you’ve cleared a full circle around the fire.
The ring of people makes another full rotation before a collective holler from the musicians causes the ring to break. Spinning Law around you keep a hold of his hand and drag him around, bouncing and kicking your feet. It had taken him a moment to get into it, but he’s moving well, and there’s a smile you’ve never really seen on his face before.
The two of you enjoy the music and the fire for a good half hour, switching partners and losing one another in the crowd of people a couple times. Every time you found him again he still had a smile on his face, and you were glad you hadn’t dragged him into something he truly disliked.
If he smiled like that on campus you wouldn’t be able to deter anyone from asking him out, girls or otherwise. Though the idea of stepping aside so he could-.
You swore internally, shaking the thought from your head. You weren’t standing by him that way to step aside in the first place. Besides, you both had other things you needed to focus on, and there wasn’t that much overlap in your schedules. You hadn’t gone to college to find love anyway, and his dedication to his dreams was obvious.
Enjoy tonight for what it is, you told yourself.
This wasn’t the kind of danger you thought that bonfire festivals posed. You sat down, a few paces from the crowd and waved at Law when you saw him looking for you. He handed his partner off and stepped around the madness, making his way over to you after a moment. Law sat down beside you, that genuine smile on his face still, taking a moment to catch his breath.
“I owe you an apology, (y/n)-ya.” He admits, taking his hat off and fanning himself with it. “I came along without much expectation, but – I’ve had fun.”
“If I knew you had been that unconvinced, I would’ve made a bet out of it.” You admitted, forcing a smile.
“Hey are-.”
“(Y/N)!” You hear Marco calling your name and turn away before Law’s sentence finishes. Law turns to look with you as you wave the older blonde over.
“Hey, hey – meet Trafalgar Law. Law, this is my brother Marco.” You introduce them, ducking down so they can shake hands before you stand up and hug your brother. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I’m just passing through to check on things, yoi. I just happened to see you on my way in and decided to say hello.” Marco looked from you to Law, and then back to you. “Look, I know you said you wanted him to relax, but you should bring him to the Christmas party.”
You looked to Law and then back to Marco. “Why?”
“If I’m right, Pops is going to want to talk to him, yoi.”
You’re utterly confused. Marco was good at reading your moods, but you were not struggling that hard with your feelings right now, you were sure of it. The confusion is blatant on your face and Marco leans in, whispering in your ear.
“Pops had a biological son; your friend looks like he could be his grandson.”
Your eyes go wide, and you look over at Law, before turning back to Marco. “Seriously!?”
“Yeah. Look, I don’t want to get into speculating on my own, but I think it’s important enough to bring up, yoi.” Marco explains.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, and sigh. “Alright, alright, but Marco, I haven’t told him anything about Pops.”
“Well, sorry then, (y/n), but you’re going to have to break into that before the party.” Marco says, patting your shoulder.
“Yeah.” You look up to the sky and sigh. “Thanks, Marco.”
Marco smiles and ruffles your hair. “I’m sure it’ll work out.”
“Huh?” You look at him again, confusion back on your face. Something in his tone made you think he was talking about something else suddenly.
“Your crush, yoi.” He said quietly, winking.
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knynumber1simphere · 2 years
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Iguro Obanai x Male y/n (Chap 2)
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I glared at him, “I’m fine where I am thanking you, plus telling people where there going would help too”, you scowled at him. He sighs starting to get annoyed, “My name is Iguro Obanai, and I’m one of the few Hashira, the Serpent Hashira to be exact”, he give me a stern glare and I couldn’t help but laugh/ giggle. I glanced at him and sigh, “I have a village to protect, and I’m not going to abandon my post. That’s known as weak to let your guard down”, I give him a deaf glace and teleport out, leaving him blank. I lean against the light of the moon on the wall next to a cloths store and rub my head trying to make sense of what’s going on, and why was he so concerned about what I can and can’t do. Hashira’s should really mind their own business and stick to what they know best. This is my town, my people, my family, not his or any other demons. I race to my cave outside of the village while passing throw the rivers of the town as the sun was going to rise any second now. I arrive just as the sun hits my arm and I rest up. I grab some lizards and start a fire, to make something scaly for dinner, but for some reason that weird, masked dude ;whatever his name is I forgot; just isn’t leaving my head. I sit there cooking and thinking of his gaze. It reminded me of my childhood friends, and sure it might have shown anger and no jokes, but the inside would always be hurt, but rarely shown, but I shrug it off. I sit there cooking and thinking of him when I see a little white snake slivering in the cover. I smile and grab one of the dead rats from the ground and use my demon techniques to control the rat to make it seem alive, a make it run to the snake which devoured it in on gulp. I smile, since I've always loved snakes. Slowly I eat the crunchy lizard and was going to give the rest to the little but, but then someone grabs my hands, “That’s cannibalism”, and no fucking shit it was Mr, snake. I growl, “Learn to knock will you”, I say while pointing to his nose, “And snakes need what they can to survive, dumb ass", I scowled at him. He tightened his grip which I guess would've broke humans arm since as soon as he did he groaned removing his hand and said, "Forgot your a demon for a second, sorry. Now come with me"
This was the last straw. Fist he comes out of no where and try to attack me, try to take me somewhere, to following me to my bidding place and now he's trying to make me come with him again, "Leave me alone Obanai", I suddenly pause since I remembered something being lost in my mind years ago.
Flash back: (3rd person)
"Who are you", y/n said to the boy hiding in the bushes, "Can you come out please", he asked gently. Little y/n was only 9 at the time and was camping with his father. The young boy stepped out slowly and y/n gasped in shock, "Your mouth, its, it's_
"Ugly, foul, un able to stand. I know all that"
Y/n giggled and gave the boy a hug, "Now, don't be like that, come on smile for me", he asked cheerfully. The boy couldn't refuse y/n with his cheerful smile. He smiled cutely, and showed the unique scar on his face. Y/n gripped the boy face, "The scar makes you look so cool, and you smile is so cute, what's your name?"
"My name is Iguro Obanai, I got this scar from the demon the protects my family and from my family covering my face. I've been in a cage most of my life because I'm meant to be feed to the snake demon once she's ready to eat me"
"That's alright, you can stay with is for now if you like"
"IGURO OBANAI, GET HERE NOW"
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morrak · 2 years
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Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 92
Saying I’ve had to have every hour of this week meticulously planned out since Sunday would be a stretch. In reality I’ve only plotted it in ~2 hour blocks. No slippage yet; doing great. So tired. Thanks for asking.
Anyway. One of my deliverables this term is going to be a list of botanical resources, probably (pending some meetings and archive spelunking) focused on the Edwards Plateau and/or Texas blackland prairie ecoregion. I’ve started my strategizing from base principles, which is where this week’s feature comes in.
Ross Bayton and Simon Maughan. Plant Families: A Guide for Gardeners and Botanists. 2017. University of Chicago Press publication; Quarto Publishing design. On to the good stuff.
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Skipping a picture of the spine tonight because (1) I’m pretty sure I can get away with it, and also (2) image limit constraints.
The How
Bought new somewhere. Dunno. I think this may have come to my attention by way of the venerable Tony Santoro, but I’ve slept since then. I have several books whose titles I read in his voice, at any rate.
The Text
‘For Gardeners and Botanists’ feels…mostly right? Plant enthusiasts might sit better. Some of this is high school biology review, some of it is a little more cerebral, but mostly it’s kept nice and approachable. No subject sticks around very long; between an intro and several dozen families with two (sometimes four) pages given to each, this things moves fast.
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This moves more or less in order of evolutionary appearance, which is both handy and a no-brainer. Some attention is given to uses — a thing I chronically feel conflicted about because I’m an asshole — but in general, evolutionary details, range, characteristic traits, and salient genera are foregrounded. It’s what you’d expect from Royal Horticultural Society/BBC show pigs, for better or worse.
I’m delighted to inform you that the text isn’t limited to Bayton and Maughan’s erudite jawing-off. Most of the RHS Lindley Library got slopped into/slathered onto/smeared all around this thing. Downright orgiastic is what it is.
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Obviously these are why you’d buy the book (though they’re barely credited; it’s practically impossible to find artist attribution). If you’re interested in getting a useful glossary or index, you could do better. This is for a narrow band of use and a wide band of readership.
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The Object
I was thinking earlier today that this is about as nice as a widely available hardcover can get. The binding is solid, the materials are quality, the printing is nice if a little affected (desaturating contemporary plant books as a shorthand for ye lithography is not cute).
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Endpaper registration? Mwah. Crisp. Good form factor and feels nice in the hand. Highly legible design work, against all odds. This is an object made to look appealing that actually (gasp) is.
The Why, Though?
I lend this out relatively often because it’s easy to convince people to accept. It’s a crunchy, satisfying read, and the real lessons it teaches are structural. Most people haven’t interacted with plant phylogeny and identification the way they’re presented here, but even five minutes of looking at the spreads gets the message across.
I do pull this (and a sister book from the same series; stay tuned for next week) myself only occasionally, mostly as a stepping stone for writing about specific families. As a teaching tool I think this is superb, but only as part of a larger set of resources. As a read, eh. It’s really meant to be bought (that is, sold) and handled; the rest feels like the kind of accident that tends to happen when big spenders find the right big names to rope into medium-sized projects.
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