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#which is probably part of why it looks quite wonky

aphpuffinchild · 3 months

Text

since it's out i can finally post my piece for @hws-anthology as well as the timelapse for it. as is arguably all my hetalia work, it's a love letter to my friend @pyrrhocorax 's fic Sendlingur og Sandlóa - i'll ramble a bit about how much it means to me, as well as the symbolism i wormed into this piece below the read more :)

i originally had two pages planned for this piece, potentially more - the fic is a good 74k words long and certainly not light on scenes i could and wanted to pull from, but various things led into other various things and one page was all i could manage, so i tried to cram in what i could, so here's that (in a rough, somewhat arbitrary order of focal points)

the opening chapter! the car is a framing device for the piece as much as it is for the journey the characters will take following that first chapter, so i wanted to use the car window/shapes as a literal framing device in my drawing

joi, shaky at best in his sense of self, sees no reflection in the window, instead there's a silhouetted raven to signify the search he must go on to find it

while not perfectly transcribed by virtue of wonky (plus an extra) line(s), the notes coming from joi's headphones are the opening to the song sendlingur og sandlóa, the fic's namesake, which a loved one kindly transposed by ear for me for the purpose of this piece

in a similar vein, the stickers on joi's suitcase are of a purple sandpiper and a ringed plover, the birds after which the song is named - here they are as transparents and in their original colours

i wanted to create a sliiight impression that joi is the one knocking over the chessboard, representing his repeated rejections of it (both physically, and the things it represents)

the chess pieces were also chosen specifically! originally i was going to use a black rook and a white pawn to match chapter 41, but for the sake of having alternating colours and the rest of my metaphors working (iirc) i swapped those colours around. that, and i wanted to match chapter 13's white king and black pawn - the black pawn stuck, the white king was colour swapped for colour cohesion reasons like the other's. (visual contrast was important to me, but the white queen blending slightly into the sky was okay for symbolism reasons) (there was also black king, white rook from chapter 3, so it all worked out anyway - there's a lot of chess in this story and i only had space for so many pieces and colours, basically)

speaking of which, the black pawn is for joi (chapter 13), the white queen is for halle (someone who, from joi's perspective, can go anywhere, vs joi's pawn, someone to be used -> see chapter 35 and perspective).

the king piece is falling (but hasn't quite fallen) between halle and henrik (chapter 3, 7, 13, though i most clearly thought of 19)

the person in the top right corner is eduard! i desperately wanted to include him because i think he's deserved it, and i considered a lot of ways of working him in, but i think an ambiguous silhouette that isn't Quite part of the main picture works better narratively

note also that he's separated from the other's through a red curtain, to represent the iron curtain (naturally) i wanted it to match ber + tino's part in some way, to sorta emphasise their similar foundations despite being split apart across places

the flowers at eduard's window are placed and chosen purposefully as well! orange/red zinnia's outside (for familial ties, steadfastness, friendship and remembrance) for what eduard puts out in to the world, then lily-of-the-valley for tino and cornflower for him inside to show what he wants to hold close :)

halle and joi are the only characters with their eyes open - halle looks towards the viewer/author/reader/joi, while joi looks away all together. if you've read the fic (which i assume you have because i can't imagine this is interested to read otherwise) you probably don't need me to explain why that reflects their roles in the story

similarly, every character apart from the brothers is turned towards another in some way (eduard does not count when his flowers do, and his role in the story is based around that disconnect partially anyway) tino towards ber and eduard (and hana, i guess), ber towards tino, henrik to halle, halle to henrik (though he looks away - his values are elsewhere even when they are together). joi, at best, looks at his own reflection in the window

the colour scheme, while arbitrarily picked from gradient maps based on what i felt "fit" has been approved by the author as being very "SoS core"

finally, the poem on the note, chapter 46

all that being said, i can and will now talk about my personal relationship with SoS, so unless that interests you i imagine the post is done now! thank you for reading :)

the first comment i posted on SoS is dated 2nd November 2016 - logging into my old account i can see i bookmarked it on the 31st August that same year, so i can safely assume i first read or at least found it then. a month after my first comment, i posted another on a different account, pouring a few bits of my heart out and the author responded! we went back and forth a bit and eventually talked (i think) via tumblr for a little, but the majority of our conversations were via skype for whatever reason (we didn't call, just texted). it was a lot of me looking for writing advice, insight to their work/process/skill, talking about The Brothers and talking about psychology/the brain on a general and personal level. i think if i read our conversations back now i'd cringe, given that i was an awkward, fumbling 16 year old, but i dont think anything else wouldve been fitting given the subject matter. eventually our conversations fizzled out and we stopped talking for years, but i'd go back to SoS routinely and cry.

in may of 2021, i posted another comment during what in hindsight was definitely another relatively minor mental health episode - i think it was half trying to emphasise how important the work was to me on the off chance pyrr saw it, and half a bid for connection since i had no idea if they even remembered us talking. i assumed nothing would come of it, and for about a year that was true - until pyrr responded after all in february of 2022 - i'm happy to say we've been talking consistently on discord since then. i feel a little weird speaking too intimately about our friendship as it is now since it's not just my story to tell (though pyrr, if you're reading this) (i'm sure you are at some point) (you're welcome to talk about it however, i just didn't want to without consulting you) but i can say with some certainty that it's at least a little bit my fault that we have a sequel now - cementing my place as official number #1 fan and validating the me from almost 8 years ago in a way i don't think either of us processes well.

it's here that i feel the need to talk about my other dear friend, @hws-lceland , who i'm grateful to have met through the zine's discord server. i'm sure they're reading this too, and a lot of what our relationship means to me is stuff that's probably a bit too vulnerable for either of us to speak publicly, but i *can* say that i love them very much, and i'm really grateful to have someone else to understand, and that he read SoS for me. i thought he needed it, and i hope i was right

sendlingur is...endlessly important to me. i'm aiming to not write an essay here (a goal i think i've already sorta shot in the foot) but i think it's important for me to talk about some of this a little loudly, all the same. my writing has changed because of the series - remeeting with pyrr and showing them some of my more recent work was interesting since it was apparent even to them the influences i'd taken (to be fair, in one section i explicitly asked and did borrow a format of theirs, but this goes beyond that). when i was 16 i asked my mum to read the fic in a desperate bid to be understood. i've cried reading the fic many, many times. i've signed off letters and poems with my switched around version of i'm sorry / thank you / i love you (i swap the first two around) many, many, many times, including in a close friend's wedding gift. SoS has very sincerely changed my definition of love. the name halle is a part of my abstract mindscape. id already considered changing my name to johannes anyway and this fic certainly didnt help. i've gained a friendship of 7 and a half years through it. i've gained another newer one now, too. i am not well. i wasn't well then, reading it, and it hasn't fixed me (i am worse, now, arguably), but it healed something, or at least made me feel understood. i could go on, and maybe sometime i will (there were so many things i wanted to include in my piece and pay homage to!), but for now i will thank anyone who took the time to read all this (again), and say that i look forward to experiencing the sequel

as always, i'm sorry, thank you, i love you

#hetalia #hetalia nordics #hws iceland #hws norway #hetalia iceland #hetalia norway #hetalia denmark #hetalia sweden #hws sweden #hws estonia #hetalia estonia #hetalia finland #hws finland

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shkika · 8 months

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do you think slugcats actually wawa? It is a fairly popular fanon sure but I have been wondering for the last few days. We know slugcats must have some decent hearing - some of the map markers are explicitly the slugcat using its hearing to differentiate between other living creatures in other rooms and so on (although the actual passages they apparently just commit to the memory). Probably not as good as black lizard hearing but pretty good. However this part of gameplay as proof of canon worldbuilding might be taken with a grain of salt

that may suggest that audial communication between slugcats may actually be pretty hard to hear for humans - similar to how we cannot hear most of audible signals of various rodents. The problem is, well, it is a gameplay concession for the most part and tbh the way gameplay is integrated with worldbuiding - the devs made an attempt but the realization is imho wonky at best and misleading at worst.

back to wawas, we can try to draw a comparison between domestic cats and slugcats wherein meow is something mostly relegated to 'babytalk' and a specific type of call which some cats, especially those who grew up with humans, adopt for cat to human communication (with cats who grew up without much human interaction sometimes never taking up a habit of meowing even if they end up living with humans later on and actively engaging with them positively). In this case a wawa is a specific signal that is either used for example in danger (owing to how we hear a wawa like sound in one of the danger alert osts) or during communication with the young.

this assumes we take danger osts as actually symbolically reflective of something.

Howerver! While just like the map it seems to be largely a gameplay concession, most of slugcat out of cutscene (aka the gourmand ending slides) communication is reliant on body language. Pointing, jumping, things like that. Even with the pups we mostly interact via those things. Which... either suggests a dimension of pup interaction we do not see because of the gameplay limitations or we should take it as wawa not being a slugcat 'babytalk'.

Which leaves wawas with a very dubious space as a potential 'can be fit into canon' or not.

Oh I'm SO sorry, but I don't think slugcats wawa at all,,

I just think Rivulet ONLY can scream.

Slightly longer ramble under cut!

I think lore and gameplay are mostly done pretty well! For example the cycle mechanic is something you can only really theorize on if you look at both gameplay and lore. You get to experience the pain of cycles all on your own!

As for wawas.. as you have mentioned, they mostly use body language and art. Picture from Gourmand campaign ↓

Spearmaster draws too, and uses sign language to communicate with Suns. And I hear you. "Spearmaster is domesticated, they don't count" and you're right!

BUT

The fact they can learn such complicated sign language would imply they have the capacity for it in their brain to learn and memorize a language so complicated in the first place. Unless that was modified as well.

But it is more intuitive for slugcats to understand gestures than speech, which is why they need the mark of communication as they otherwise just hear incomprehensible garble. Their brains weren't made for many complicated noises. Yet when they DO have the mark they are capable of understanding extremely complicated sentences and such.

The wawas in threat themes are just the track not actual noise your slugcat makes. A lot of tracks have quite the bizarre sounds in them.

I think slugcats draw, point and jump to communicate. They're rodents that sign!

My only self-indulgent funny headcanon is.. as forementioned, that Rivulet can scream. There is no proof or basis for this. It's just incredibly creepy and funny to me.

This is why that creature wanders alone. Cursed being.

#ask #anonymous #rainworld #rain world #rw rivulet #AS ALWAYS #THIS IS ALL #my headcanons #im not forcing this on anyone!! have fun #i think wawas are cute #i just think demonic riv around mostly silent companions of its kind is hilarious #moons cat is an evil demon that will kill without hesitation #long post #kiki rambles

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zeestarfishalien · 1 year

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Part 7: Leaves a Debt

TW for use of cigarettes I think.

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Taking a long drag on his cigarette and slowly exhaling as he stares fixedly at the open coffin and the being within, Constantine finally says, “ghost. That’s a ghost baby.”

“Well, not so fast." Captain Marvel holds up a hand to slow Constantine's roll.

“Huh?” He physically jerks back in affronted confusion, flicking ashes from his cigarette in the process.

Zatanna cuts in, “don’t jump to conclusions.”

“I’m jumpin’, I’ve jumped. I’ve landed. It’s a ghost,” Constantine insists, almost like it's some sort of competition.

Jason wasn’t sure how exactly they ended up here. Zatanna took one look at the being within the coffin and promptly dialed up both Constantine and Captain Marvel, saying nothing but, “You guys need to see this.”

Now the three are standing around the open coffin arguing and pointing about the thing inside. They look like a young teen with some major radioactive glowing going on, like those cats that scientists gave jellyfish glow genetics to. Beyond the seeming age, the kid doesn’t appear much in the way of human, human adjacent, but not human. They’re a little on the thin side but not too bad considering. They’re a spirit…of some kind. Which kind seems to be the topic up for debate.

What Jason would like to know is, what is up with these emotions radiating from the being? They're overjoyed and it kinda seems like it's because they can see/sense him. It feels directed at him somehow.

Jason blinks and realizes he’s a lot closer to the open coffin than before. The magic users are still busy arguing with each other and so Jason takes the chance to approach.

He’s careful not to touch the edges of the coffin, he still remembers the nasty little shock it gave him. Feeling for a pulse is the instinctual thing to do despite it being rather illogical. He’s seen weirder.

“You won’t find anything.”

The voice makes him jump. Captain Marvel is looking at him now, having edged out of the battle of wits.

“Whether or not they’re a regular ghost, a concept spirit, or some hybrid of those or something else, they won’t have a pulse. They aren’t ‘living’ entities per se. You can feel the energy pulsing from him though. Spirits don’t have a heart, but instead a core. Even non-magical people can feel it in a way.” He shrugs as he watches the resting spirit.

Jason watches him carefully. “Why aren’t they moving or waking up?”

Captain Marvel shrugs again. Something about the move is wrong, other. But then again, the hero has never quite looked ‘human’ to Jason.

“Could be a curse or something preventing them from waking. Or it might revolve around power levels. It sounds like they’ve been trying to call you for a while.” At Jason’s guilty look, Captain Marvel backtracks, “oh but don’t worry about that too much. Time for spirits is wonky and this one hasn’t been in any danger beyond being stuck here as far as we can tell.”

"They look like a kid,” he points out.

"Oh yeah, that happens sometimes. Could be a mental age thing or just a preference. It can be hard, but you can't trust looks with the supernatural."

"Yeah..." Jason acknowledges distractedly.

"Guys, guys," Dick cuts in between Constantine and Zatanna's arguing. "As riveting as this debate is, it is nearing dawn. We need to get outta here before someone decides to call in the cops."

“I’m tellin’ ya. It’s a ghost,” Constantine insists, not quite able to let someone else have the last word. Zatanna looks ready to fire back with some profound argument, Jason is sure, but Captain Marvel catches her eye and shakes his head.

She sighs but gets to work refilling the hole in the ground. Captain Marvel turns once more to Jason.

“Do you have somewhere you want to hold them? It’s probably best not to go too far from the cemetery.”

“They’ll heal best near death energy,” John cuts in unprompted. There’s a cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hands as he moves to stand with them all around the wacky glowing coffin on the ground.

Jason is sure they all make quite the scene but that’s neither here nor there.

“I have a small emergency base near here,” Damian offers. “It’s across the street, underground. You may use that if you are lacking accommodations.”

“Right. Take this then, put it on the ground and stand back.” Constantine chucks a small drawstring bag at Damian after finishing his impromptu instructions.

“Tt…I don’t take orders from some half-baked n…” Dick cuts him off.

“Thank you, we appreciate not having to lug this coffin around.” He strategically places his hands on Damian’s shoulders in order to gently guide him away and keep him from insulting the sad trench-coat man.

“Thanks Lil’ D,” Jason placates. “I appreciate the offer. I don’t have anything nearby.” His attempt at defusing works seeing as Damian collects whatever wounded sensibilities he had and leaves with Dick.

The sound of light footsteps and something in the corner of his eye is all the warning Jason gets before Cass brushes his arm. He leans into the touch, an encouragement. She leans into him as well. Jason knows it’s her way of showing her support and it’s a comforting gesture.

~*~

Having what amounts to a corpse on the dining room table is a very weird thing to get used to.

Technically Damian must have planned to use this dining table for spreading out clues and information. This isn't exactly a full on apartment or house, just a nest in the basement of one of the buildings. It connects directly to the sewer maintenance tunnels, because of course it does.

Back to the corpse...

Comatose spirit?

Not something in their contingencies (it will be from now on). Is it weird that Jason is kinda becoming accustomed to a lifeless body just chilling on the table?

Okay, clearly the answer to that is yes, but when you've spent four...almost five days living in the same small living space as the un-moving glowstick, you see if you don't get used to it.

The table thing is necessary and Jason isn't about to leave them fully unattended. (he maybe kinda sorta feels more comfortable sleeping near them. Not that he'll ever admit it) He still goes out on his nightly work, but he spends his off time here to keep half an eye on Glowstick McGee and the various runes and artifacts the three magic users finally agreed upon.

They said, "something something, energy...something, feeding...channeling it to them." Jason tried to pay attention, but they were kind of all talking over each other and all he knows is that this will keep the spirit alive...or well, existing.

And...it should help them get better, hopefully wake up, but possibly just maintain them while Constantine, Zatanna, or Captain Marvel figure out a way to suss out the problem.

Something catches his eye. A flicker in the shadows... No, must be the lighting. Glowpaint Ghost sometimes throws the shadows off. Jason turns to leave the room only to nearly run over Spooky.

In the flesh. Or shadows?

Jason may or may not have let out an undignified scream.

Spooky is just sitting there, watching Jason have his little freak out moment like he's been here the whole time. Jason didn't think they could leave the cemetery. They certainly couldn't seem to last time.

"What are you doing here?"

Spooky, as expected of a dog, doesn't answer. Their gaze flicks past Jason, to the comatose spirit. Jason supposes their presence is answer enough. Somehow Spooky can follow this spirit or Jason, or both?

It doesn't matter, because Spooky is okay. Jason had kinda been worried about them.

He pulls out his phone to dial up Zatanna.

First | Previous | Next

I have no excuses, neither will I apologize. Red Dead Redemption 2 has ate my right up and refuses spit me back out. My brother bought it for me on like...Sunday? Monday? Idk but it has taken over practically my whole life. I legit just didn't have enough time in the day to write more than a few sentences or paragraphs a day. Luckily rainycat from Batpham server gave me some of their writing juice. From there it's just been a few days wait bc brain funk. Gotta love brain funk. References to Shane and Ryan from Buzzfeed Unsolved (this episode) and the book Maniac McGee (mainly the title as inspiration for Jason in dubbing Danny Glowstick McGee)

Hopefully the tag list is still tagging everyone, I had to remove the links bc my laptop wigs out and won't let me even save the draft or post or anything

[Tag List] @emergentpanda-blog @my-perfect-storybook-love @gunebugfic @thegatorsgoose @thewondersoflebanon @bobred18 @d4ydr34min9 @ver-444 @redafi @echoednonny @greenmuffinofdoom @mentalcarebear @fisticuffsatapplebees @vythika96 @writer-extraodinaire @meira-3919 @yjfk @oddlydrawnpuppets @crystalqueertea @lazy-bouqet @darkthunder1589 @mnemovoid @keimiwolf @aarinisreading @love-has-no-labels @terzatheunderscorerima @idkmrpianoman @mur-ururu @chip-thief @kawaiikenna

@rangerhorsetug @treepainting @thatonegirl10 @demiourgias @spooky-fm @antagonisticly @fluffy23sblog @manglethemingle @kyrianclawraith @layyeschips @shepardking @asphyxia778 @ballzfrog @fluffen-spooky @drowningroane @deathsdaisy @malaayna @mistyaltair @potatoeofwisdom @heartsong18 @nixthenerd @icedbluesoul @the-church-grimm @overtherose @sara0055 @banishedthumbs @tired-yet-awaken

@dannyphantomphan @nonbinary-disaster @depressed-bitchy-demon @8-29pm @addie-lover-of-stories @lifefilledwithstories @apointlessbox @skulld3mort-1fan @katgirl05 @spookytragedyshark @mandyne-1001 @ascetic-orange @booklover9114 @qualifiedpasta @mouzerequis @fleeting-mists @gin2212 @rollthatcritical @kaitouhime @itsloveleo @litlecameron @phantom-dc @hippityhoppity-iownyourbones @pastalavistamf @kokoroluna @legowerewolf @riasthelustful @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @mysterimax

#dp x dc #church grim danny au #the black dog danny #jason todd #dc x dp #danny phantom crossover #dc crossover

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idontknowreallywhy · 5 months

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A Part of Her

For various reasons (train strikes etc) I haven’t done a commute fic (where I just thrash something out in a linear form and don’t obsessively edit it later) for a while, but a little idea occurred to me today so here is a hurried lunch-break fic…

What do we call these two? Was it Astro Turf?

Whatever, a bit of Allie and Virg…

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

“Virg?”

“What’s up, Allie?”

His little brother had drifted across the room and was slowly running his hand along the edge of the piano lid watching the hammers rise and fall as Virgil played. He’d not said anything for a while and not wanting him to believe his presence was unwelcome, Virgil had just smiled at him and waited for whatever was coming. When he eventually spoke, Alan’s voice was steeped in uncertainly.

“This was… Mom’s, right?”

“Yes Allie it was. We had it shipped over when we moved here.”

Alan nodded and was quiet again for a while. Clearly something was brewing. Virgil shifted from the concerto he was niggling at into a slightly sparser, atmospheric piece which gave more space and time for any words that might be coming.

“She… played a lot?”

“Pretty much every moment she got. More than me I think.”

“Why do you play so much?”

“Why do I play?”

Virgil paused to consider, looking down at his hands as he ran a couple of gentle arpeggios through a series of chords. There was a lot more behind that question than there appeared and he needed to choose his answer carefully.

“Firstly, because I enjoy it, I like the music I create and I like the fact it’s something I’m creating, even if it goes a bit wonky.”

Alan nodded, blue eyes met his with very deliberate focus. He was clearly concentrating on every word Virgil said.

“Secondly, because you guys enjoy it. I like being able to help Scott relax, or Gordon laugh… or cheer you up sometimes.”

Another nod. Virgil stopped playing a moment and rested his fingers over the black notes.

“Um, I also often play to try and process how I feel about things. Sometimes it’s hard to put the difficult stuff into words but…” he played a series of chords around D minor and then coughed and reverted back to a slightly cheerier key as he noticed Alan try to cover up rubbing at his eye by scratching his nose.

“Then I guess the final one is… it helps me feel close to her, to Mom. I imagine her hands on the keys, making the same sounds and I feel like a part of her is still with me.”

Alan closed his eyes and whispered something hurriedly. Virgil leaned over to put his right hand over his brother’s left where he held the side of the instrument in a vice grip.

“I didn’t quite catch that Allie?”

He opened his eyes and looked Virgil full in the face again, eyes wide. “Can you teach me?”

Virgil knew his expression must have betrayed his surprise as his baby brother rushed on hurriedly.

“I know you did before when I was a kid and I sucked, I didn’t try very hard or practise because I didn’t get it. I didn’t get what it meant. And I’m probably still going to suck at it Virgil, I know that.”

Alan swallowed hard.

“But I want to try because maybe, maybe there is a part of her inside me too and if there is I want to find it.”

Virgil pulled gently on the young man’s hand and guided him around to perch next to him on the stool and wrapped him in his arms.

“She’s in your every cell, your every breath, Alan. And she would be so proud of you.”

Alan sniffed and tightened his grip on Virgil’s shirt. Virgil unpeeled his little brother’s fingers from the flannel and guided his right hand to rest on the keyboard.

“If you want to play it would be a privilege to teach you, but you need never doubt she is a part of you Alan.”

Alan twisted and placed his left hand on the keys alongside his right.

“Show me. Please?”

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alan tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #commute fic #music is everything #piano!virgil #lucy tracy #is there such a thing as slightly sad fluff?#Thunderfluff #Sad fluff?

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itsnothingofinterest · 10 months

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I have to say the reasoning behind Toga’s quirk being on the fritz was kind of neat. Even if you focus on the biological aspect of quirks, considering how our mood can influence how well we function, it’s a fascinating look at how quirks work when under duress. Although I admit I think I’d prefer a more angsty route honestly. Mostly in the ‘even if you listened to me I’m still not sure that I can trust you even with the confession’. Idk, I feel like the current situation is a bit too optimistic, which is fine, but I’d rather see a slower, more developed transition into her recovery. Granted, I could say the same for a lot of the recent events *cough*Spinner&Shoji*unconvincing cough* but I digress.

Eh, honestly I find the reasoning behind the quirk not working being this idea that Toga needs to feel “pure love” still a bit wonky, maybe even contrived. I think it’s mainly because we know it worked when Toga fought Curious, and she was also running on a considerable amount of fear for her life in that moment; so I don’t get why her drive for revenge would be different. Well we got a cool conversation with Uraraka out of it, so it’s whatever.

Regarding the confession & the pacing of everything around it; I totally get you about feeling things should be less quick and smooth than they look, given the circumstances. One of the many reasons I keep hoping for an MHA part 2 after the war arc is that a lot of the major conflicts feel like they need a lot more time to resolve. Especially looking at the two major plots that have already ended, Spinner, & Dabi, and how unresolved they still feel.

And this’ll probably be its own post but in brief, there's still some of that here too. While Uraraka offering her blood to Toga is surely very touching to her and she's surely already made much more progress with her villain than Shoto did; just brushing past Toga’s “you’re just gonna lock me up for life or execute me” accusation with, from what I can tell from the leaks (so excuse me if they're wrong) something like: “well yeah that’s just common sense” really feels like a major misstep right at the end. Because while I'm sure the confession & blood offer will be quite significant to Toga; Uraraka still feels off the mark from actually saving Toga to me if that’s how she responds to the actual threat posed to Toga’s life. She's almost there, but not quite.

That's my thoughts on that particular topic anyway.

#ask & reply #bnha #bnha 393 #toga himiko #dabi #spinner #paranormal liberation front #PLF #uraraka ochako #shoto torodoki #mezo shoji #class 1a #hero society #my stupid long term predictions #quirk analysis

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thesuetyouforgot · 3 months

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What do you think of the German comedian Loriot? And about the TV show 'Sketch History'? I absolutely love both, and 'Sketch History' reminds me of Monty Python soo much (the team must have been majorly inspired by them). They really nailed the humour and came up with their own recurring characters and creative sketches. I wish I could translate all the sketches into English and show them to an international audience 😅

Omg I LOVE Loriot! Especially the TV series/the sketches. I could write entire essays about it. Did you know that he actually stole from Monty Python quite a bit? (I will put a paragraph on that below the cut bc I've wanted to talk about that for years now lol but feel free to just ignore that part)

Sadly I'm not the right person to talk about Sketch History with. I dislike that show so much for no apparent reason. I just really don't enjoy it and never found it that funny tbh, it's so far off my humour... I'm sorry. But after hearing your praise I will definitely give a few of their sketches another chance now and find out if they maybe remind me of Monty Python as well. Do you have any recommendations for which sketches are the best/most like Python?

And thank you for your ask! :)

Now, what did Loriot "steal"?

Most famous example is the Wrong Interview Partner sketch in which the wrong person (with an ordinary job) accidentally ends up in a TV studio, getting asked the questions which were intended for someone with an extreme job. (In one version it's a deep sea diver and in the other one it's an astronaut, can't remember which one is by whom.) Why is this one 'famous'? Because John Cleese himself spoke about it, pointing out that it really is copied in an obvious way.

A really obviously stolen sketch is the 'Superscope' sketch introducing a revolutionary new invention of an extremely wide screen on which you can watch entire races without a single cut or camera move. Since it's just a tiny strip of white across your TV screen you can't even hide that it's stolen. (In one case it's a horse race, I believe, and the other one a 500m sprint?)

Another one which is less obvious but I still believe was inspired a lot by Monty Python is the beloved "Das Bild hängt schief" in which a salesman is to wait in a room until someone has time for him and in the meantime -due to butterfly effect really- accidentally demolishes the whole interior piece by piece. Monty Python has a sketch where we have someone waiting for someone in a room, too, but in this case he ends up accidentally killing everyone of the staff who enters that room. (That would probably have been too extreme for German TV, while the need to correct a wonky hanging painting is way more realistic. But I wouldn't be surprised if Loriot did get inspired by MP.)

The last one is something that could also be wrong because I might have mixed it up in my memory but MP has the Hide and Seek Olympics. And in a little Loriot intersection we see a reporter (unsuccessfully) looking for the Hide and Seek finalist, too, if I remember correctly.

On the other hand I think it's not a bad thing. It was a normal thing to do: You see something you like in another country and try to bring it to your own people, too. It's been done with songs, game shows, anything... Its just interesting because at that time Monty Python's Flying Circus wasn't even that famous and loved in Britain itself. So knowing of its existence and deciding to use some of their material is quite fascinating to me. (The wrong interview sketch by Loriot was aired one day prior to the airing of Monty Pythons Fliegender Zirkus in 1972. The other sketches weren't aired until 1976 though.)

#monty python #loriot #asks #marcus-the-ant #Sorry. accidentally ended up using your nice ask for my self indulgent rant

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narrators-journal · 4 months

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Part 9

Ngl, I procrastinated on this part bc we’re getting into the chapters I’m not suppppper confident in. Like, I like them, but I feel like the characterizations aren’t the strongest, or the plot was too boring or confusing. Then, I ended up hitting a sort of slump in my interest in this fic. I had a lot of fresh ideas, this one felt kinda weak, then life has been rough, so I ended up putting it off MORE as a result.

But! I am determined to post this bitch! Even if it’s not my strongest work! So if you’ve stuck around this long, you are so fuckin’ great dudes and dudettes! I hope you can forgive any wonky writing or missed stuff going forward, I just wanted to get this part done since I’d left it so close to done, but left it hanging lol. Admittedly, no garuntee on when part 10 will be done, but there’s only 3 more chapters! So hopefully I can knock them out soon! Soon-ish! Before the next god damned Christmas!

Thank you for hanging on for this beast. I really do appreciate it. I’m gonna try my best going forward, and I hope you continue to enjoy!

Previous part: Here

Next part: Here

The morning after Yukari's questions was a bit tense. At least, tense enough for Ryoji to ask if they'd fought again when he noticed Yukari's vicious glaring.

Yet, with a limited time of her stay remaining, Minato ignored the dirty looks and kept his mouth shut. If she didn't learn her lesson with her first attempt, that's her issue. He told himself on his way to the kitchen on her final day. Only to freeze before grabbing the handle of the cracked-open kitchen doors when he heard the conversation. "Why are you so close to Minato?" Yukari was questioning. Which, while annoying, did pique the man's interest as much as it made him bristle. Stop that. Ryoji liking us does nothing to hurt us. Quit it. He scolded himself, shoving those anxious feelings back down. Him having feelings for me, good or bad, doesn't affect our relationship, it's fine.

That point didn't stop Minato from listening against the kitchen doors for Ryoji's answer, though. "I'm not that attached to Mina, am I?" He asked, a pause his only response before he hummed, "Well, if I must try to explain myself. He's not the first sacrifice to not fear Thanatos, but he's probably the most interesting in how he goes about it. Usually, even the most resigned offering snaps at least once, but...I think his only escape attempt was moreso because of what I did, not the threat of dying." he began, adding in a brighter tone "Oh! I also like his sense of humor, or, at least the way he's not as judge-y about mine. He's also got a nice laugh, and he's smart! Granted, he showed that by trying to escape. But, he was smart enough to try and cover his tracks, and use the snow to his advantage! Most sacrifices go for the doors, so, y'know, refreshing at the least. I get tired of the corpses only digging straight up to get out of the graves."

Naturally, the morbid attempt at a joke only got another unamused silence from the girl. "Okay, then why does he get special treatment?" "Huh? Whoever said he got special treatment?" Minato heard the brunette squawk. Sounding almost offended at her words before she continued with a light, but pointed tone, "I mean, you two seem close, you trust him enough to not be up his ass 24/7 around here," Ryoji cut her off, "Jokes on you! I simply haven't gotten around to asking him if I can be up his ass yet." Which, got an annoyed half-scream that time instead of a silent look. "Wait, where are you going?! Breakfast isn't done!" Ryoji called. Minato left to scramble away from the doors before Yukari threw them open as she snapped back, "Ugh, no! fuck your breakfast, I'm not going to sit down here when you're being gross!" "I was only joking! It was a joke, I didn't think it was that gross!- Oh, good morning Minato."

The pair stopped when they spotted the blue-haired man in his pale dress in the entryway of the fancy, gothic home. Yukari eyed him as Ryoji smiled at him. "I only came down for some breakfast, I didn't mean to interrupt anything." Minato offered, but Ryoji waved it off, "Don't worry, this works out great for me! I need to talk to the both of you, anyways." Which, got a suspicious look from Yukari as she squawked, but he added, "But it's okay! Nothing bad's going to happen." Not that it helped soothe her. "Why did you need to talk to us both?" She asked, "Why are you so hostile about it?" Minato asked her in return, getting his own glare from her.

He simply returned the evil look, his deadpan expression not shifting an inch, even as she asked, "Oh what, I just trust the immortal helper of the god who's keeping me trapped here?" and while her reasoning was sound, her sharp tone dug at Minato yet again. So he once again turned to his usual sass with her. "I mean, what's your other option? Try to bolt out of the door again? Because that worked so well the first time."

Thankfully, before she could smack the midnight-haired sacrifice, Ryoi caught her hand. His laugh a bit tense while he tugged Yukari further from Minato, "Chill out you two, I promise there's no need to fight over this. I'm not throwing anyone to the wolves, or implementing some form of torture." He assured, "I only wanted to tell you both at the same time that I've gotten permission to take some of my leave. So, you two will be here alone for the most part, but I'll come back to feed and water you." "Oh great, so we're like gerbils-" Yukari paused. Minato able to see the ideas in her brown eyes as she looked back at Ryoji, "Wait, you're leaving us alone? What about you being, like, a guard though?" she asked, the taller brunette giving a bit of a nervous laugh at her surprise. "Well, I mean...you won't just be here unsupervised with the doors open, y'know? That's asking for creeps to get in, or for you two to get out and freeze to death, or get kidnapped, or attacked by animals. In short, yeah no, Thanatos obviously isn't letting me leave you guys unprotected." And like a house of cards, Yukari's expression fell.

And, Minato couldn't deny that he felt bad for the girl. He may not have wanted to go back to the village that threw him to the wolves, but he recognized the pain that replaced the hope in her eyes. He'd felt a similar way when he'd woken up in the hospital after the crash.

However, the sacrifice mentally shoved that sympathy back down. No! No no, Ryoji is probably fucking Thanatos, getting attached to him is acceptable. Yukari is a bitch. She'll bolt at the first opportunity, she doesn't fucking like me. Quit feeling bad for her. He scolded. Taking a deep breath before zoning back into Yukari and Ryoji's conversation. Only to finally register that the taller of the brunette duo was looking at him. "Huh?" "You didn't catch a word of that, did you?" Ryoji laughed, making the sacrifice scowl a bit before he continued. "I was saying that before I go, I'll need to lock you in your rooms and leash you to the bed. Do you understand, Funeral lily?" "Oh, yeah, whatever." He hummed, shrugging it off. Which seemed to throw Yukari for a second, but instead of nagging him for it, she shook her head with an annoyed huff.

Ryoji, though, smiled brightly at his compliance. Giving the grumpy man a quick hug before he continued, "But! Until I leave, you two can roam around freely, I promise! So, how about we take advantage of that freedom and have some breakfast, hm?" before herding Minato and Yukari back to the kitchen and the breakfast he prepared.

Yet, regardless of the food's flavor, Minato ate it. For no real reason but to watch each of Yukari's plans flick in her warm brown eyes like movie screens. As well as talk to Ryoji for the morning. Though, once his food was gone and the conversation had dwindled, he returned to his room once more. Content to melt into the mattress and watch whatever tv shows or Christmas specials came on. Even if some part of him found it a bit repetitive.

However, the curse of a woman out in the hall interrupted that plan. God damn it, is Yukari gonna try to bolt out the door again? He thought with a sigh. Rolling his grey eyes before he pulled himself out of bed to trudge over to the door and look out.

Sure enough, the brown-haired girl was creeping down the gothic hallway. Past the pale vases of colorful, plastic flowers and gorgeous paintings. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got nuts at least. “Yukari, what are you up to?” He asked. Watching the girl jump a bit and whip around to look at him like a deer in headlights for a brief second before she relaxed. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m not going to sit here like a trained bitch.” She hissed back. Spitting the last word out like a poisonous barb at him, but he swallowed down the urge to return that poison and only blinked at her. “You’re being stupid, is what I think.” He stated blandly, “Do you even know where Ryoji is?” “He’s in the shower, I checked.” alright, fair I suppose. “And what’s your plan? Run out the door a second time? Go out the back and try to climb the brick wall? Try to dig your way out?” “I’m gonna try something, I don’t want to be tied to a damned bed!” She argued, throwing it into his face as if she expected him to react to her words. And, when reiterating Ryoji’s plan back to him didn’t get more of a reaction than his usual look, she barred her teeth at him. But, she let the conversation die there in favor of continuing her way down the stairs

Minato ended up trailing after the woman without another word between them. Playing as her shadow while she circled the cold brick wall that enclosed the snow-layered garden. “Is there a fucking reason you’re following me around? Are you looking for evidence to report to Ryoji?” She asked, spinning on her heel to fix the shaggy-haired sacrifice with yet another one of her dirty looks. “No.” he hummed, his casual tone offering little to soothe the melancholy anger in her face. “There’s not much else to do but follow you around, or sit and watch tv.” “Then go watch tv!” “Nothing good’s on.”

Yukari screamed through her teeth at that. Spinning on her heel without a further word to return to scouring the yard for some crack in the bricks, or tunnel hidden in the long dead fauna. Minato, meanwhile, hung back to watch her go for a moment longer before he finally decided to finally go defrost from the cold.

And, not too long after he’d left the girl, Ryoji poked his head into the living room, where the sacrifice had settled with a grilled cheese and a cup of hot cocoa. “Hey there, funeral lily, where’s Yukari?” he asked. His hair damp and hanging in his face, and somehow, his soft face and vibrant eyes were even prettier than before. “Oh, uh, she might still be outside.” Minato hummed, blinking a bit to bring his focus back to the conversation. Not the mental image of the man naked in the shower, rubbing soap over his soft body beneath the warm water- “Minato? You still with us, space cadet?” Ryoji hummed, suddenly leaning on the back of the velvety couch instead of the doorway. Bringing with him a cloud of sweet florals and honey from his soaps, and a casual smile. As if his suspenders weren't hanging from his pants, his button-up wasn’t open, and the shaggy-haired man wasn’t replaying their time together in his head. I need to jump this bastard again.

But, for now, he shoved those thoughts away. “Why wouldn’t I be?” the sacrifice asked instead. Doing his best to be as casual as he could be while an alluring mix of honey and flowers seemed to aim to seduce all the conflicted emotions it could out of him. His companion, meanwhile, only shrugged, “You looked a little spaced out is all, anyways! Did you bury Yukari alive?” He asked, only for his smile to drop when Minato shook his head, “Wait. So, she’s outside alone?! Fuck!”

And, before the midnight-haired man could explain any further, or suggest a second bath, with him included this time, the brunette was out of the room. Leaving him in a rolling boil of lewd thoughts and those usual barbed questions that always came up. Which, Minato took as his sign to move his grilled cheese and hot chocolate up to his room. Where, for the rest of the day, he stayed. A choice he soon thanked himself for when he heard Yukari and Ryoji fight from the top of the gothic home’s stairs. So, instead of getting tangled up in that, Minato made a beeline for his room and just sat in bed and watched TV once more.

Not that there’s much else to do around here. He mused when the daylight shifted from the sunny glow of afternoon to the warmer gold hues of later hours. A fitting transition. As, like the darkening sunbeams, his thoughts began to drift into darker hues. Maybe Yukari’s got a point...can I live like this? Spending my days watching TV and sitting inside all the time? Ryoji’s fun to sleep with, but the best-case scenario for me is that he is just a god’s assistant. Should I be okay with living on a leash until the day I die?

It wasn’t a fun train of thought to chew on. It was bitter and dug into the roof of the sacrifice’s mouth like a goathead. Not helped by the mixture of guilt and disgust it dredged up from the depths of his ignored feelings. Is this all it takes for me to submit to living in a dress? Captive for a stranger god? A nice house and a pretty captor? What the hell am I? The dumb protagonist of a paranormal romance story? Yet, at the same time that those thoughts had been dug up, other sour thoughts leaked out of their jars. Images of what memories he had of his parents, the crash, the family, and the institutes he bounced between. The dirty looks of others in town, the whispers, the avoidance. They joined in on the skeleton dance in his head.

With a firm shake of his head, Minato tried to disperse the horrible memories and the slurry of emotions they brought with them. Only for them to creep back in like the tide over the sand. Shit. Arisato, stop it. Think of something else. Think of fucking Ryoji again! He ordered in an attempt to distract himself as his fingers tangled in his shaggy hair and he pressed his palms into his eyes to try to force the tears that welled up in his eyes away.

But, a knock at his door interrupted his impending breakdown, soon followed by Ryoji’s voice. “Mina? You decent?” “Uh, give me a moment.” He called back, quick to try and wipe away any sign of emotions before he got up to let his companion into the room. “Hello again,” He chirped as he came in. The smile on his face that of a dog excited for a walk, which, almost awoke a pang of bitter jealousy in the male sacrifice. After all, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt more than a blip of joy. Yet, even then, it was never as strong as the excitement that glowed in Ryoji’s eyes.

Yet, Minato stomped that feeling down with the rest. “Sorry if I’m interrupting, but the sun’s going down, so I wanted to pop in and make sure you’ve eaten, taken your medicine, y'know. All that. Also! Explain that, because you’ve been here so long, I got permission from Thanatos to leave you untied in here! Of course, your room will still be locked, just to be sure, but you’ll have free reign of the room!” The brunette hummed, a sunny smile on his face as he hopped back to his feet. “Of course, if you try to take advantage of this, I will find out, and I will come back to catch you and tie you to the bed.” “You don’t have to threaten me to tie me up, Ryoji.” Minato snorted. The bark of laughter he got for his blunt flirtation a lovely sound after his earlier thoughts. “Behave yourself, Funeral lily. I’m too busy tonight to play.” The brunette scolded with a laugh as he headed for the door. And, while the midnight-haired sacrifice gave a light-hearted boo, he let the man shut and locked the door for the night.

With the door locked, and no plans to go a second round with Jack Frost, Minato kept to his word. He crawled into bed as the evening darkened outside to try and sleep the encroaching night away. Which, wasn’t a hard task under his plush, crimson comforter in such a comfortable bed.

So, before he knew it, he was jolting awake to the sound of a distant crash. Either downstairs, or in Ryoji’s bedroom. I guess Ryoji’s back. He thought as he buried his face in his pillow, That, or Yukari’s throwing a fit. Either way, the man curled up under his comforter and tried to let the infomercials lull him back to sleep.

But, when he heard his doorknob start to shake, he shot straight up in bed. His senses were immediately on high alert as he sat up in bed and scanned the dark room for an explanation. His heart thundering in his ears and time felt sluggish and thick. Yet, at the same time, those attempts to open his door continued.

Upon that second rattle of the nob, Minato’s body finally kicked into gear. Throwing his blanket off of himself to get to his feet. His storm-grey eyes widening at the light clicks of his door’s lock undoing. Whatever time Minato had to hide, was dwindling.

So, thinking quickly, the sacrifice squirmed beneath his bed. Oh god, this is so stupid. This is such a cliché hiding spot! He chided himself, yet, before he had any chance to bolt for the balcony doors, his bedroom door unlocked. And, from beneath the bed, Minato could do little else but try to keep his breathing quiet and watch as not only Yukari’s shoes, but those of strangers came into his room. Four pairs in total, plus Yukari. “Are you sure there’s another sacrifice here?” A man asked, only to get a hiss as one of his companions likely spotted the disheveled bed. “Oh, shit.” he breathed, before he spoke in a louder voice, “Hey, miss! Don’t hide, it’s okay.” “Minato’s a guy,” Yukari provided as she opened the balcony doors to look down to the distant trees and brush. “A guy? I thought women were the only ones sacrificed from your town.” He said back, and, some dark part of Minato wanted to snort at that assumption. But, he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut and only watched the feet shuffle around his room. One of the people checking in his bathroom, someone heading out to check other rooms. As well as another checking within his dresser, as if Minato could squish into the drawers.

Maybe checking under the bed is so cliché this’ll work? The hopeful part of the male sacrifice suggested in the back of his mind. Yet, as if that thought had given him away, a pair of shoes came over to the side of his bed to pat the bundled-up blankets before a face appeared to the side of Minato to look under the bed. “Oh! I found him!” He called, while the midnight-haired sacrifice wiggled away from him. “Hey, wait! We’re here to help you! You don’t need to be afraid!” The hat-wearing man said, grabbing his ankle to tug him back before the sacrifice swat at him. “No! Fuck off!” Minato snarled while Yukari huffed, “Look, he likes it here, can we leave him? Before the keeper comes back?” scolded by a gruffer man, “Of course not. If he’s got Stockholm syndrome, then he especially needs our help.” which, got another huff.

While they discussed what to do, though, Minato took stock of his new situation. Under his bed, surrounded by Yukari at the foot, a wall behind him, and two strangers on either side of it. God I should’ve jumped off of the balcony. A broken ankle would be better than this. Should I try to bolt for the balcony while they’re talking?

Yet, before he could decide, the man who’d grabbed his foot and injected something into him. “The hell was that?! What did you do?!” Minato snapped, but the tall man only sat by the side of the bed with the others. They had cornered Minato under the bed. Likely drugged. “Ryoi?! Ryoji!” Minato called, squishing himself to the wall, “Who’s Ryoji?” the first voice asked, and while Yukari explained, Minato’s mind scrambled for a way out. Only for the drugs to eat his thoughts and energy. Shit...Wait, no...don’t… Before he could even finish the thought, his vision dimmed to black.

#Persona 3 au #Winter is a lovely season for romance and funerals #Persona 3 #Persona #Ryoji Mochizuki x male!Persona 3 protagonist #Minato Arisato #Makoto Yuuki #Ryomina #MinaRyo #Ryoji Mochizuki x Makoto Yuuki #dark #fanfic #Ryoji Mochizuki x Minato Arisato #Ryoji Mochizuki #Fanfiction #passion project #part 9 #alternate universe #au

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therealrosebuddies · 2 years

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Good Red, Bad Red

Part three of What’s Love Got to Do with It?

Steve Harrington x Babysitter!Reader (maybe soon to be FinalGirl!Reader)

Desc: Well, Steve and babysitter!reader have finally made it to Starcourt. All they need is a dress and between the two of them, that shouldn't be that hard. That is, as long as they don't bump into any one they hate. That would be terrible.

Notes: (sorry haha) Hi, thanks again for the support on this fic, I really, really appreciate it. Also, in the flashback, the POV gets a little wonky, and I wanted to apologize for that. I'll probably fix it later, but I'm tired and I wanted to get this chapter out! It really helps to connect these upcoming parts, so I'm excited to keep laying the ground work. Also, I may start releasing separate smaller one shots for this version of Stranger things, ones connected to this story. idk though haha

warnings: violence, character jumpscare

(set between season 2 and 3!)

Part 1 Part 2

read on ao3

Breathing in the smell of soft pretzels and a clean waxed floor, Steve decided that he liked this new mall. Of course, it wasn’t just because of the smell- that would’ve been weird. No. it was the throngs of people that littered the three huge floors, the bright shapes and colors that battled for his attention. It was a far shot from what Hawkins usually was and he liked it.

He glanced back to look for you, realizing that his thoughts were directly contrasting yours.

Pressing closer than you usually cared to, you almost clung to the back of Steve’s jacket, head on a swivel. While he was excited by the mass hysteria that was Starcourt- you eyed the crowd warily, as if any one of them was going to jump you. You were acting like a skittish, traumatized baby deer, and he was the park ranger ushering you to safety.

It was quite the change of pace from how your dynamic usually went.

(Most times, he was still attempting to be a park ranger and you acted like his smarter, more competent boss.)

“How’re you doing back there Chief?” He asked, making his way toward the escalator.

You repressed a sigh, elbowing past a group of teenagers with a wrinkled nose and brow. “There’s a lot of people here.”

“That’s a bad thing?” Steve stepped onto the revolving steps, turning to watch your feet as they followed.

“No.” Answering distantly, you place a hand on the railing, head tipping up to take in the bright signs and gaping skylight. “I just like being able to get places without…” you trailed off, jaw clenched. “…without much in the way.”

Steve’s eyes widened as he fully faced you, both hands on the railing. “Do you really think of people as things in your way?” He asked, flabbergasted.

“No!” You insisted, voice high and head-shaking rapidly as you tried to dissuade him. “No- I just… I’m used to having a plan for everything I do. And my stupid little unconscious ideas don’t usually include dodging and weaving! I just don’t like the extra-”

“Oh my god. You’re like my old next door neighbor.” He breathed, twisting his body so he was looking half at you and half at the approaching end of the escalator. “He throws things at kids as they run over his lawn.”

You gaped at him as he jumped off the escalator. “I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.” You hissed, pushing forward in an attempt to get away from him. He watched you walk past, glancing fervently around the second floor. He smirked, waiting patiently for you to turn around. He knew you were more stubborn than you liked to admit, but also knew that you hated providing evidence for that stubbornness. Which is why he stood there with a smirk, watching as you slowly turned to face him.

“Which way is it?”

Steve shrugged, rubbing his face like it was the greatest mystery in the world. You rolled your eyes at him, brows low. He just walked over to you, gesturing ahead with his hands. This way, he could still lead the way and force you to tag along right next to him. And despite your little made-up plans, you followed after, complying with his actions.

Only a few minutes pass as the two of you walk together, Steve’s head snapping back and forth to make sure he was actually leading you in the right direction. Heaven forbid if he wasn’t. Then, as he was passing a flashy athletic shoe store, you got a little distracted.

He feels more than sees you leave his side. Steve turns, neck twisting this way and that. Despite your hesitation in this place, you sure didn’t seem too nervous enough to drift into the crowd. Luckily, he caught sight of you before the annoyance took root. You had slowed to a stop next to one of the displays, transfixed by the scene inside.

A girl was standing on a pedestal, dressed in a bright white gown. She twirled hesitantly in the dress, looking at herself in the multifaceted, full-length mirror. You stood with an unreadable expression, fingertips ghosting across the glass. Your eyes, normally fire bright and present, were distant and soft, lids low. There was a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You had left him by accident, and were now a million miles away, somewhere deep in that head of yours. Steve looked quickly between you and the crème-colored shop, connecting the dots.

“You know, I didn’t take you for the wedding type of girl.” He tells you, unaware of the way it sounded. The expression that crossed over your face dunked Steve’s nerves in ice.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You inquired as you snapped out of your quiet reverie, eyes narrowing sharply. “You don’t think I’m good enough to marry?”

“No!” He refuted immediately, “No, of course not- you… you’re great! Any guy would be lucky to land you!”

Your narrowed eyes softened slightly and pulled away from him, back into the store. But that distant look was gone- overtaken by your usual blazing alertness.

“I just…” Steve continued cautiously, hoping not to stick his foot right back into his mouth. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who would stop and stare into a boutique window.”

“I have my layers.” Your eyes drift slowly from the store as you take a step back. He follows, eyes trained on the way your head bobbed as you spoke. “I can manufacture a mean flamethrower and plan a wedding- they’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Okay, well for now, we aren’t here to plan for your future wedding. We’re here for Prom.” He reminded you, feeling like he needed to really stress the importance of this dance. If you could be that transfixed by a wedding dress- how hard would it be to get you excited about these ones? And, the more excited you were, the more painless it would be for the both of you.

And he needed that night to be as painless as possible.

He suddenly felt your gaze on him, burning mischievously behind innocent lashes.

“You know, with the way you talk about it, I think you’d be someone who’s planning their wedding right now.” You prodded, voice bouncy as you bumped his arm with yours. The sly little smirk that stretched your mouth was covering something- some kind of hidden motive. The thought of you trying to dig for something- some other hidden reason of his- inflated his ego. Instead of ignoring or tolerating him- you were actively trying to pull him apart like a Rubix cube. And if he was being honest- it was fun.

Playing along, Steve looked at you and shrugged, cocking his head left then right, making a show of contemplation, his eyes squinted. Your mouth popped open, brows shooting up.

“Wait- have you?”

“No! I mean, I’ve definitely thought about it.” He admitted, saying much more than he let on. If he was telling the whole truth, he'd done a lot more than thinking about it. Honestly, it was a dream of his- a life goal. He wanted the wedding, the house, the kids, and the steady job. Everything that came with it. The wedding was just part of it. Well...That, and a wedding included being legally bound to someone who really, really loved you. He wanted that kind of life- badly. He wasn’t going to tell you all that of course, not if he didn’t want to look insane. “But not to the extent of you know, what type of flowers would be on the tables or who would actually be invited.”

“Oh my god.” You breathe and Steve turns at your much less giggly voice. You’re looking up at him with a slack jaw, fingers pressing against your cheek and grazing your lips “You’re a total sap.” You laugh, the sound jumping out of your throat as you drop the hand.

“Hey! Don’t laugh.” He hisses, face burning as he's sure it starts to turn pink. Why’d he even admit that anyway? Was it just because he wanted to relate to you? Was it because he wanted you to feel comfortable? Or was it just because of the soft, easy way his words seemed to tumble out of his mouth when you were around? Either way, he was starting to regret it. He shook his hand and pointed it at you, vying for reclamation of his dignity. “You’re gonna want to cut that shit out if I’m going to be paying for both the tickets-”

“Steve- it’s not a date. I already told you that I can-” You stop in your tracks, mouth snapping shut. For a moment, Steve wonders if it’s another bridal boutique.

And then he sees what you do.

And his nose aches to think about the last time he had been this close to Billy Hargrove.

*****************************************

It was a few days after Halloween, only thirty minutes after the rest of the team had left to take care of their separate missions- and Steve’s group was left at the house.

That lucky group included you.

And you weren’t happy about it.

You had been literally benched by Hopper, grounded after you had voluntarily driven his adopted daughter off of his secret property. From what he could gather, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing you had done. But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed about being left at the Byer’s house.

And now, there was this.

Between the two of you, Steve had assumed you were the smart one.

But oh my god, he had been so wrong.

Instead of dissuading the kids from their stupid, reckless plans to distract those weird dog things, you were agreeing with them. It was driving him crazy, watching you scramble around the house with them, trying to decipher away to fight an all-powerful interdimensional being. What were you guys even going to do? Hit it with Lucas' dinky little slingshot?

But honestly, he should've been prepared for your strange behavior. He should’ve known you'd be on board the second you showed up that night, freshly decked out in your all-black outfit, a shadowy specter cloaked in leather and Demodog blood. Oh- and Eleven, who most everyone thought had died about a year ago.

The biggest red flag should’ve been your makeshift flamethrower, a dangerous combination of hairspray and a tiny pink lighter. It was terrifying to see the distance between your fingers and the roaring flames.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered any of that.

You were standing next to the kids, staring over Dustin’s shoulder at the weird, pasted map. A flicker of excitement was blazing in your kohl-lined eyes, as if an unseen plan connected in your brain. “We can take my car. I still have an extra lighter left over-”

“Hey. Hey! Hey!” Steve exclaimed, clapping loud enough that he finally tore your attention away from the quickly spiraling plan. The blaze faltered, your head snapping towards him questioningly “This is not happening.”

“But-”

“No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe- we promised-'' Steve looked pointedly at you, swathed in your unfamiliar cloud of coal, really trying to convince Dracula rather than the kids. If there were two ‘babysitters’ saying no, there was a much higher chance of nobody dying. You just stared at him blankly as he continued. “-and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?”

You shook your head slightly, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Steve, if we can help at all-”

“I said, does everybody understand that?” Steve repeated loudly, no longer asking. You stared up at him as something changed in your pointed, blown wide pupils, your stained lips forming a silent ‘o’. Your gaze flickered across his figure before you looked at the kids- and they looked at you. Once again, they were referring to your reaction, your judgment of the scenario.

He would’ve been mad about it if he hadn’t been wanting to do the exact same thing.

“I’m going alone then.” You decided, arms folding defiantly as Steve pinned you with an unbelieving look. All he was asking for was one thing. One.

You were being difficult on purpose- he was sure of it.

Yelps of resistance rose up from everyone else in the room as you placed your hands on your hips, mirroring Steve in his posture. Eyes narrowing up at him, you stood as an unwavering point of night in the yellow seeped house. You were intimidating for someone your size- but Steve didn’t care. He wasn’t letting anyone be stupid on his watch- and that included you.

“Like hell you’re-”

That’s when the loud roar of a car rips through the night, stopping all of the commotion to a dead halt. Max rushes to the window and her round pink face grows pale, blue eyes clouding over. “That’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”

For a tense moment, no one moves, the sound of tearing gasoline flooding the air with anxiety. Steve looks at you, trying to gauge your thoughts. He wanted to make sure you weren’t going to run out the back door and head off on your own. But you’re just staring out the window, attention firmly set on the dark Camaro. It didn’t look like you would be moving any time soon- not with Billy Hargrove posted up in the driveway.

Steve looked at the rag-tag group, a lump hardening in his throat. He knew you were a capable person- he did. You and El had literally just taken on a pack of Demodogs- so he couldn’t rationalize that you weren’t able to take care of yourself- or the kids.

But this was a fragile situation. He wasn’t sure what Hargrove was capable of- but he didn’t want to find out.

“Everyone stay here.” Steve ordered.

You moved to follow him, pent-up emotion roaring beneath your gaze.

“Hey. No- stay with the kids.”

“Steve.”

“I’ve got this,” he assured you, pointing back at the kids on the couch. “If a Demogorgon comes in, use that can of hairspray you love so much.” Plastering a smirk across his face in an attempt to loosen your tight fists, he turned toward the door and let the cold November air swallow him up.

He could handle this. The fewer people he had to worry about, the better. As long as everyone was inside, he just needed to scare Hargrove off.

Piece of cake.

He stood expectantly at the foot of the porch, dread grinding his stomach as the reckless driver kicked open his door. Steve could smell his cigarette from there, the smoke announcing his presence.

“Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?”

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” Steve said, trying to move the whole thing along. He didn’t have time to put up any resistance to his shitty attitude.

And for a minute or two, Steve thought it was going well. Maybe he had it handled enough that your little group would leave this night without a scratch.

And then Billy saw the kids- and you- in the window.

Steve should’ve known it was going to come to blows. Or at least, he should’ve been ready for it, or thrown the first punch. If he had, the guy wouldn’t have been able to stomp up to the door and smash it open, coming face to face with you.

Steve groaned on the ground as Billy stomped past him, beating you to the door before you could lock it. The door slammed, sounding far away as Steve tried not to throw up across the grass.

While he did so, you had other problems.

Billy had taken one step inside the house and was looking at your little group like it was something to eat. His eyes eventually landed on you, planted firmly between him and the kids. He let out a short laugh, teeth sharp.

“Hey Gatekeeper, you in on this with Harrington?”

You kept your jaw clenched, unfazed by his jab at your Halloween costume. The Halloween costume that you had worn for the very kids behind you. The kids that were relying on you to keep them safe, some even gripping the edges of your jacket on reflex.

The act made your heart heavy, fists clenching as you stared down the teen goliath before you. If he thought he was going to get a chance to even yell at one of them, he was dead wrong.

You decide not to indulge him, face stony.

A stitch of silence passes and Billy shifts his eyes off of you- and onto Lucas.

“Sinclair.” You stretch your hand out a little farther, hovering close to Hargrove’s next target.

He makes a purposeful lunge in Lucas’s direction and you seem to make up your mind, launching forward without fear. The contact is fast- and the sound is immediate. It was like watching a forest fire colliding with a mountain. Your hand snaps out at a speed and ferocity that only the last year and a half would have given you, striking across his face like lightning across the sky. The rings that you had acquired from your recent makeover shine black on your retreating hand, explaining the fresh split in Billy’s lips. He stares at you in momentary surprise, eyes flaming as he realized what you had done.

“Okay.” He muttered, wiping the bright, sluggish blood from his growing smirk. “You first then.”

He’s on you before you can stop him, rough hands digging into your collar. You’re drug backward by pure force, sneakers dragging against the floor. You hear the kids screaming. The struggle you put up barely has any effect as Billy slams you up into a cabinet.

You honestly should’ve thought this one through a little more. He was bigger than you- and he wasn’t some kind of Demogorgon that you could light on fire. He was a human. A giant, hulking, insane human- but a guy nonetheless. If you really wanted to take him on, you needed something that was going to really hurt him- even kill him.

And you don’t think you were ready for that- physically or mentally.

The world is spinning and your head rings, reeling from the impact. Your hands fumble for purchase as he pushes into you, burning hot knuckles bruising your collarbone. He’s looking at you like you were the one who was doing this- like you were the one who deserved to get thrown into the looney bin.

“You do that again and I’m going to make sure the next place you end up is a hospital.”

You ignore his threat as you glare up at him, contempt rolling behind closed lips. He was stronger than you- there was no arguing that point. But you’d be damned before you let this guy get anywhere near those kids. As soon as he felt finished with you, he’d go straight for Lucas.

That wasn’t going to happen.

You push out your neck and sink your teeth into one of his thumbs.

Billy drops you with a scream. Falling to your knees, you scramble away, head reeling and lips smeared with blood. You hadn’t hit bone- but you know you had made a dent. The taste fills your mouth, warm and metallic. You didn’t like it. And if you didn’t get away from Billy now, you’d be tasting more of it pretty soon. That thought was enough to push you toward the table, head ringing. But before you can lift back up, one of your ankles is yanked backward, slamming you back to the ground.

There isn’t time to brace for the impact. Your jaw connects hard with the wood and stars explode across your vision. A noise squeezes through your clenched teeth. You hear a strangled laugh pierce through the blended shouts for your safety as you’re drug back across the floor. You move to fight back, but a hand fists itself in your hair, slamming your face straight into the hardwood.

Pain explodes through your nose, eyes pricking with tears. Before you can even react, you’re being raised to your knees, yanked up by the hold on your hair.

“You know what? I take it back. We aren’t going to need a hospital tonight.” Billy threatens, pointing at you with the hand you had tried to take a bite of. If you hadn’t been so out of it, you probably would’ve laughed at his bloody finger. His grip on your hair grows tighter. “You’re dead.”

And honestly, you might have been. You might have gone out against a sociopathic musclehead, splattered against the Byer’s kitchen floor.

But then you catch sight of a familiar mop of brown hair over Billy's shoulder, and your heart performs a weak jumping jack. You struggled against your aggressor's grip, keeping his eyes on you.

Steve had managed to make his way back into the house. He had stopped momentarily at the sight in the kitchen, panic shooting through his veins the way he imagined heroin would. Your limp figure was just barely visible behind Billy’s and he couldn’t see what was happening. He couldn’t see you.

Steve blinked out of his momentary hesitation and rushed forward, pushing Billy hard in the back. You dropped out of his grip, hands barely planting before you hit the ground.

Hargrove turned with wide eyes, coming face to face with Steve, a savior in blue denim.

“No. You are.”

For the second time that night, Billy was struck across the face, Steve’s fist just barely missing the spot where you had slapped him. He watched, stone-faced as Billy stumbled away, a bone-chilling cackle rising up from his throat. Steve stole a glance at you, pushing away slowly from off the floor, nose dripping with darkened blood. Dustin and Max were pulling you away from the scene, coaxing you back from the danger.

For now, you were out of harm's way.

If he had gotten there sooner, you wouldn’t have had to be in it in the first place. Your blood wouldn’t have been smeared across the hardwood floor, dark against the dinky yellow lights of the house.

Billy pointed at Steve, pulling his attention back to him. “Look’s like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” He taunted, smile full of teeth and half insane. He stepped forward as he pushed his hair out of his face, eye to eye with Steve. "I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

Despite how much he wanted to kick his ass, Steve knew they had bigger problems to deal with. The sooner they got rid of Billy, the better. He was wasting their time, and he wanted him gone. “Get out,” Steve ordered simply, contempt straining against his steady words. He didn’t want to waste more breath on this guy than he had to.

And apparently, Billy felt the same way. At this point, words were useless.

Which is probably why he swung at him.

And for a while, Steve was doing pretty good. He landed a few punches and kept his head down and for a few moments, it seemed like the two guys were on common ground.

That was, until Billy smashed him overhead with a plate.

That was when everything went downhill.

Steve had ended up with his back against the floor, mirroring your situation a few minutes earlier- except he was getting punched over, and over, and over. The contact rained down repeatedly, his face beginning to feel like a tenderized piece of meat. He probably would’ve been a goner if you hadn’t keyed Max onto the syringe next to you. She had plunged it into his neck without so much a flinch, injecting him with the strange tranquilizer.

Everything sounded underwater as Steve lay on the floor, lights dancing across his eyes. He only really registered what was happening when you appeared over his head a few minutes later, head haloed by the yellow light.

“Hey.” You slapped his face lightly, Steve barely feeling it. “Hey, Steve, you need to stay awake. I think you’re going to have a concussion.” You informed him, hands now planting firmly on his shoulders and shaking. But his head felt like cement. Even if he had understood a single word you had said, nothing but a groan would have passed his swollen, bloodied lips. “Come on. You did pretty good. If he hadn’t had the plate, my money would’ve been on you.”

You were lying, but he appreciated it anyway, even through the fog.

Steve spit up a weak chuckle and you flinched, dodging the spray of blood. “Sorry.” he mumbled between split, swelling lips, trailing your movements as you pushed up his coated, sticky bangs. Your hand was warm.

He wondered if you were always this warm.

In the back of his punch-drunk brain, he registered the jangling of keys and pieces of the conversation between you and the kids. He’d feel you shake him every few moments, right as his vision would start to fuzz, growing black at the edges. Eventually, you were pulling at his shoulders, trying to get him out of his steadily growing puddle, hands and face streaked in red.

“Steve…” you sounded far away. “We need to go. And we can’t leave you here… not with all this blood…” He watched your lips move but didn’t really understand what you were saying. Go where? And why did the blood factor into his need to tag along?

When he didn’t respond, you just sighed, a strange sort of pity hanging across your face. He blinked lazily, watching as you turned away from him, obviously talking to the kids. He would’ve liked to hear what you were saying, but it was too late for him then.

He had already begun drifting off.

********

“Huh. I see you took my advice.” Billy called out, stopping the both of you in your tracks. He was standing a few feet away from you, accompanied by some of his block-head cronies and rim-lit by the turquoise lights of a nearby store. Pushing away from the pillar he leaned against, he began walking towards you, smile dangerous.

Usually, Billy stayed out of Steve’s way. After last October, he had seemed to give everyone Max was friends with a wide berth, holding fast to his promise. Steve didn’t think he would be the type of guy to honor a sister’s wish, but so far it had looked that way. Until now, it seemed.

He hopped down the two small stairs, hands dug deep in his pockets as he came to stand right in the way. Steve would’ve groaned if he hadn’t known better. Billy’s razor-sharp gaze flickered your way as Steve felt the weight of you at his side. He almost sneered, a hand twitching reflexively, as if cowering before your bared teeth. “And look at that- it’s Max’s new mommy.” he looked at Steve. “That must make you Dad huh?”

“We’re friends.” You answer, harsh and hatefully hot. Steve realizes then that as much as you like to argue with him, he was nowhere close to the level of dislike you had for Billy. You looked at the leather-bound prick in front of you like he was a Demogorgon. Not a human- a monster that you needed to get rid of. In your hate, you beat Steve to the punch, poison dripping from your tongue. “But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”

Billy tilted his head at you, pink lips curling over blinding fangs.

“I forgot you were the ones with the balls in this relationship.” His gaze tracked you up and down, a little huff leaving his mouth. “Did you have fun cleaning up after me and your little boyfriend?

This time, you didn’t flinch.

“Not as much as kicking in your nose.”

Oh. Yeah, Steve had forgotten about that.

Before you had left the house that night, and even before you had gotten him in the car, you had recruited Max and Lucas to help drag Billy out to the garbage. The literal garbage. The three of you had left him propped up against one of the cans, keys dropped into his lap. As little as you had wanted to help him out, you had wanted him gone as soon as you could.

Then, after Max had gone back inside, you kicked him square in the nose.

You had thought it poetic- and payback for you and Steve’s matching injuries.

Billy let out a terse little chuckle, strain rolling in his darkening eyes. Steve had been ready to jump in, to say anything. But you had beat him to it- reminding Billy exactly why he had been staying away for the last few months. When it came back down to it, you were all friends- and shared a deep dislike for Billy, one that went deep enough to cause violence. So if he ever tried something, he knew there were plenty of people waiting to get back at him in return.

Steve was one of those people. If it ever came to a head like that again, he wouldn’t be going down this time. Especially not when there were no plates around.

Air tense, Steve tore his gaze from your rocksteady stance, ready to back you up. If trading insults was the agenda today, he could do that with you.

But that’s when he saw it.

While you absolutely loathed Billy- he found you entertaining.

It was the searing heat in his eyes as he had looked up and down, smirking close-mouthed and taunting. He had been much too pleased by you jumping into the conversation, forcing yourself between himself and Steve. He had seen this look before. It was the one guys would throw at each other after passing a girl on the street- or talking about someone in the locker room.

The flash of panic hit Steve in the chest, throat closing up like a crushed coke can.

He didn’t deserve to look at you like that- he didn’t deserve to look at you in any way besides apologetically. From like- the bottom of a six-foot grave that the two of you had dug.

Or something like that.

Either way, he wasn’t going to get to be around you anymore. From what Steve was gathering, Billy wanted you to take a bite out of him.

But you didn’t seem to realize this- probably focused on every way you’d like to hurt the mulleted barf bag in front of you.

Steve took a chance and caught your shoulder. “Okay, back up.” He advised, coaxing you back as Billy leared closer. Luckily for him, you didn’t fight back, letting him step in front of you. If he hadn’t, you probably would’ve lasted a few more moments before trying to tear into him. Billy scoffed, reluctantly drawing his eyes away from you before stabbing them into Steve.

“Yeah. Put that new bitch of yours on a leash.”

The rush of anger that punched through his throat came so fast and so hard that it almost knocked him off his feet.

Okay.

Maybe you couldn’t do anything violent.

But Steve hadn’t made any promises about himself.

He pushed forward, intent on getting Billy to apologize. Whether it was through words or fists, he wasn’t really sure. But before he could even open his mouth, a toddler burst between the two men, laughing maniacally. Following quickly after was his mother, offering quick apologies after she raced past.

Steve looked at the gap caused by the interruption, blood quieting in his ears. Whatever tension was there before had snapped, dissolving into the commercialized air. Billy seemed to figure that out too. He looked up at Steve, blue eyes narrow before relaxing into a cocky nonchalance. The guy threw his arms out wide, shrugging at himself- as if daring Steve to resume what he started. He was trying to make it look like he was inviting a fight- like he wasn’t concerned about the aftermath it would bring.

Luckily, Steve knew better.

And, he had an errand to run.

He let out a dry chuckle, nudging the back of your jacket. “Let’s get out of here. We’re wasting our time.”

You nodded, never keeping your eyes off of Billy. Steve held his tongue, knowing he couldn’t tell you to stop glaring. That would just open up a whole can of worms.

Hargrove watched as the two of you passed, smirk unflinching even as Steve turned his back. He could feel the burning sensation as you walked away, drilling into his back. And then it was gone, replaced by the carefully controlled air conditioning of the mall.

“God, that guy is a dick.” You groaned, knocking Steve out of his paranoid thoughts.

“I dunno, I think he was pretty pleasant,” He tried joking, the words feeling forced on his tongue. He grimaced at that, annoyed that he still felt Billy’s presence. He swallowed, trying to banish the dry scratchiness in his throat. ”But in all seriousness, I was worried he was going to swing at you.”

“Aw, you were worried about me?” You asked, the pitch of your voice rising in mock flattery.

Steve just blanched at your funny, but clueless reaction. “Yeah. I was a little bit worried about you. I mean, you were the one who almost bit his finger off.” He answered, completely honest. “I thought I was going to have get another concussion.”

“Defending my honor?”

“Saving your scrappy ass.” Steve corrected, smothering the brief moment of vulnerability a few seconds earlier, hoping his humor did the job. You hadn’t seemed to notice his admission, but he just wanted to make sure.

He didn’t need you getting any ideas.

You laughed, and the tension left in his shoulders evaporated. Whatever had just occurred minutes earlier- or even months ago- was now completely out of your head, replaced by his own clever jokes. He would’ve patted himself on the back if it hadn’t made him look stupid.

The remaining walk to the store was short, filled with relative silence or little comments on items that stuck out in the windows. By the time you made it, Steve had five more solid reasons why he liked the mall.

Stepping into the department store, Steve was immediately hit by the flowery perfume, face scrunching.

“Dress first?” You asked, biting back a laugh as you drifted over to one of the display racks, fingers ghosting over the fabric. Steve shook his head, mostly to get rid of his reaction to the perfume and partly to answer.

“No. I already have a suit.” He answered easily, still focused on taking in the advertisements and strange decorations.

You spun on him, dress quickly forgotten. “ You already have a suit? Then what are we matching with?”

“The tie and the corsage.” Steve answered easily, passing you and heading over to what he thought was formal wear. You stared at him, for a moment refusing to move. He looked over his shoulder at you, miming confusion. “You coming or not?”

“I can’t believe-” You stared, but quickly cut yourself off, eyes closed as you took a deep breath through your nose. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” you decided, eyes flashing open to stare at him. “If we aren’t looking for a suit, you’re going to be at my every beck and call.”

Steve had just laughed at that, unaware of how serious you had been.

You made good on your promise, quickly getting the gist of the department store before he did. You swept through the isles quickly, grabbing dress after dress. He followed your lead, throwing in a few of the dresses you had passed by. If he was going to be here, he might as well join in on the fun. He preferred the ones with lots and lots of sequins. You hated them. Around thirty minutes later, the cart Steve pushed was piled high, threatening to topple over.

Conceding the need to empty the cart, the two of you found the dressing rooms, connected to a wide, mirror-lined hallway. Steve stopped the cart in one of the first open rooms, watching as you disappeared behind a curtain.

The first dress you tried on was a disaster. It had been one of the ones Steve had pulled- the one with huge, arcing frills that seemed to make up the straps. He had seen plenty in the store like that- so he had just assumed it was what girls were wearing to prom. He didn’t claim to know much, but he could see all of the mannequins and the other girls in the store carrying dresses around that were just like it.

But when he threw it over the dressing room door, all he heard was a groan.

“No way.”

“What?!” Steve asked, genuinely confused. It was pink- you liked pink. Hell, your nails were painted pink. “What’s wrong with that one?”

“I just- I don’t like it. Give me a new one.”

“But you were the one who set it in the cart.” He reminded you, eyes wide and pointed at the wall. There was a door between the two of you, but he still saw the perfect picture of your reaction in his head. You had most likely rolled your eyes, all haughty and annoyed, arms folding as you crinkled the dress in hand.

“I was distracted!”

“Listen, if you try it on and don’t like it, you don’t have to try on any of the other dresses I picked out.” Steve promised, a smirk on his face. Of course, he meant it if you didn’t like it. But you were going to love it. He knew that. As a guy who really didn’t care that much about fashion, he still had excellent taste- so the promise wasn’t going to matter.

At least, that’s what he thought until you actually pulled back the curtain.

“I look like a half-eaten cotton candy stick.” You bit out, bare feet smacking against the linoleum as you spread your arms out wide. The bright pink material was poofy and wide, the curved sleeves sticking out and digging into your jaw, while the shorter skirt rode up your thighs with every small step you were taking. It was... it was a terribly awful dress.

But the thing that broke him was the fact that you were in it, all edges and blazing personality, stuffed into a pink, oversized, paper mache finger trap.

“No! No, you look…” Steve tried his best to keep it together- to keep that stiff smile firm upon his lips. But one look at your smoldering expression broke him. He ducked his head down toward his feet as the laugh burst from his nose. “Yeah, yeah the cotton candy thing is really accurate. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He apologized, watching with a rising, weakly sympathetic grin as you snatched the next dress from the cart- one he hadn’t picked out.

Fair was fair he guessed.

But, there wasn’t much luck on the next one either. It was a color you had liked- shimmery, iridescent turquoise. Steve had insisted was going to make you look like the little mermaid, but you didn’t care.

You had shuffled out, holding the skirt high along with your hopes. Those quickly came crashing down as you had to admit to him that he was right. The dress did look a little like Ariel’s seashell bra.

So, that dress hadn’t worked.

No biggie.

You had a huge pile of them in the cart next to Steve, so you weren’t running out of them anytime soon.

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

Morbidly wrong.

You tried on dress after dress, but none of them really worked. Sometimes it was the fit, the color, the way it made you look like a cartoon character- nothing was working out. Steve had handed you each dress, knowing that this would be the one.

It never was.

You kept throwing them back at him after changing out of them, your frustration quickly beginning to be taken out on him. At one point, Steve felt like he was drowning in fabric, choked by colorful skirts and sleeves. He had let you do it though, knowing a sarcastic comment offered by him would’ve been met by more crankiness.

And honestly, he was starting to worry that you were going to give up. The huge pile the two of you created was down to its last few dresses. And the odds of any of them working out? Dismal.

Steve’s feet ached, having tried a million ways to stay on his feet. But after as long as you had been inside that partition, he couldn’t take it anymore. He slid down to the floor, finding heaven on the cold, squeaky floor.

“Steve.”

He grunted in response.

“Throw me one.”

Without much of a complaint, Steve got up onto his knees and slid one of the dresses from the cart, balling it up and throwing it over the top of the curtain. If he hadn’t been so tired, he would’ve pumped it fist as an excellent show of marksmanship. He slumps back against the wall, resigning himself to sit and agree with whatever you veto next. After a minute or two, the curtain rod shrills at the drag of metal. Steve drops his head to look at you and…

Huh.

You looked really good.

Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes wide as his gaze traveled from the very edge of the skirt, up to the off-the-shoulder neckline. You had shoulders- and a collar bone. He had never seen those from you. He swallowed slightly, stomach burning with something like indigestion.

The red of the dress stood out like a firecracker against the unoffending beige of the hallway, punching through the unerring boredom. It followed your curves like a car on a track. Your hands follow those curves, a scarlet vision straight out of fiction. He straightened up slightly, eyes blown wide.

“Hey- that looks-”

“It’s too much.” You muttered, a hand smoothing up and down your bare arm as you looked at yourself in the mirror. “It’s tacky. None of the other colors are half as loud as this one.”

Steve faltered, eyes landing on the curve of your butt. He cursed silently, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

This was you.

You were his friend- a surprising gorgeous one- so the fact that he had looked was an accident. One he definitely would not be thinking about later.

He cleared his throat, re-engaging you as he moved to stand. “Even the cotton candy dress?”

You didn’t answer him, lost in your own head as you turned this way and that, nose wrinkling and brows forming their familiar concerned curves.

On one hand. You were right. Most of the dresses in the store- or just in general- were pastel-colored, light and unoffending, or just slightly off-color. He couldn’t even remember a time a girl had worn a dress that bright and distracting- he would’ve remembered it.

“It fits you,” is what he finally manages to offer. He had moved closer behind you, now visible in the changing room mirror. The fluorescents overhead burn his eyes and are giving him a headache, but he sucks it up anyway. The picture of you in the mirror makes eye contact with him, frown jagged. Steve returns that expression. “You don’t like it?”

How didn’t you like it?

You held your tongue for a few moments, your fingers swinging slightly in the loose fabric.

“I like how it looks on me. I’m just worried people will think I look stupid,” you admitted. “Is that a totally ridiculous thing to worry about?”

You.

You of all people were worried about looking stupid.

Through his exhausted haze, Steve felt the deep sickness of confusion. He watched as the person who had stolen a police chief’s gun worried about what would happen when you settled on the wrong dress. He didn’t think you felt fear. You had never shown it before. Maybe the closest he had seen was annoyance or uncomfortability- but even in the face of monsters and sociopaths, you kept up a defiant image.

Maybe that was one of the reasons he had asked you.

Deep down, Steve had been too scared to show up to a stupid high school dance alone. And you? He thought you wouldn’t have broken a sweat.

But here you were, greying and panicked over your slim dress options.

For every time you had saved his ass, he owed you this one at least.

The thick confusion starts to dissipate as he makes up his mind and he’s back to quickly answering your concerning, but albeit endearing question. “(F/n). Look at who you’re asking,” He joked, warmth curling in his chest as you heave out a barely audible laugh. You turn over your shoulder to look at him and he continues. “Honestly, I think that’s the first dress that’s worked for you- and I’m exhausted. We’ve been here for two and a half hours.” Steve whined slightly, making a show of his sagging and weary bones. You narrowed your eyes at his act, lips pursing to keep back what he knew was a smile. Encouraged, Steve shot out one of his arms, ready to wrap it up. “And, just for a little more incentive, I’ve already got a tie that matches the dress.”

Your eyes widened, mouth breaking open with curved corners that you didn’t care to hide. “You just want to spend less money!”

Steve just shrugged, prideful in the way you had seemed to blaze back to life. “Finally figured that out huh?”

Gracing him with a biting, forced laugh, you ruffle up your hair and turn back to the mirror, hands atop your hips. Steve was starting to get used to how you looked, chest loosening. You were still your over-critical, annoying self. It put him at ease to see those familiar expressions crossing your face, returning you to normal. Everything about you was the same- you were just wearing a dress.

The soft worry that had filled your face was gone, replaced by serrated caution of the red garment. You were weighing your options. Lip pouted slightly, you took another spin, head on a swivel as you made sure to capture every angle of the dress.

Steve would’ve teased you for being so meticulous, but he knew how long it took him to do his hair. Instead, he just offered a soft roll of his eyes, folding his arms.

“Shut up.” You muttered, grabbing two fistfuls of the dress and lifting. Walking in place, your focus was solely on the wily fabric.

Thinking he was going to be stuck in this department store for decades, Steve let out a played-up groan, gaze finding the ceiling.

“Do you really think this works?” You ask finally, now facing him instead of the mirror.

That momentary shock of emotion flooded his system, limbs tensing. Steve loosened his jaw- repeating the same phrase over and over: she’s annoying, she’s annoying, she’s annoying. Steve nodded reassuringly, the confusion gone. “You look great.”

“Are you sure?

He took a deep breath, knowing that he could handle it. He could just tell you the truth. No big deal. “(F/n), if I didn’t already know how much of a nightmare you are, and I saw you in that dress, I’d be asking you out.” As it rolled off his tongue, cheeks slightly pink, the pressure he’d felt on his chest lifted.

“A nightmare?” You gasped, eyes wide as you spun to face him.

“Hey- that was a great compliment. I was basically calling you hot.” He pointed, correcting you for your own benefit. Then he winced, tilting his head. “Platonically.”

“Good.” You nodded matter of factly, turning to look at yourself in the mirror, smile growing as blinding as your eyes. “Platonic is the only option.”

With that out of the way, you hopped back into the dressing room. After a few minutes, the dress was off and situated, and the two of you dumped the discarded dresses back into the cart. It was a high stack- the ladies at the desk hadn’t been exactly happy when you brought it back.

But that didn’t matter.

Because you bought the dress.

After those long few hours, you were done. And Steve couldn’t be happier. Until you forced him to carry the long plastic bag that is, almost skipping along as the two of you left the heavily flowered store. He couldn’t complain though. Well, he could, and he did- but there was no real emotion behind it. He liked spending time with a friend- and right now, you were one of the few he had. Even if it was holding your bags or almost falling asleep on a department store floor.

On the way out of the mall, the two of you stopped and grabbed Chinese food- because by the time you had finally finished, it was time for dinner. Steve had wanted a burger- and you had wanted tacos.

You had met somewhere in the middle- somehow.

Eventually, dinner was eaten in the parking lot, sitting atop the hood of Steve’s car, sharing the chow mein and two sides meal.

You pushed away from him as he grabbed at your box.

“Hey!” You yelped, watching helplessly as Steve was able to snag a wonton from your grasp.

He shrugged, making a sort of ‘duh’ face at your expense.“We’re supposed to be sharing.”

“You said you didn’t like wontons.” You reminded him, repeatedly stabbing your chopsticks into the box, glare weak.

“Well, I didn’t love how they looked.” Steve explained, shoving his stolen food into his mouth and pushing it aside. “But now I know they taste great.”

He watched as you shook your head at him, tugging your bent legs closer into your body. Your silhouetted hair shook as you did so, drawing his eyes to the mellowing red sun.

“You’re like a little boy,” you grouch, shoulders hunched as you eat your own wonton.

Glee rising in his throat and stopping from swallowing his food, Steve coughs slightly, barely avoiding choking.

Beside him, you smile, red light reflecting in your eyes. “Gag.”

Steve snapped back to look at you, eyes blown wide. “What?!” He asks, trying to sound shocked and hurt- but can’t help the delight driving up the pitch of his words. “Did you just tell me to gag- so I would drop dead?”

You looked at him over your cup, mixing your chow mein slowly. “Yeah.”

“That’s it,” Steve began, slapping his own box down next to him and turning towards you. “I’m taking all of the wontons.”

“No-” You cut yourself off as you let out a scream, pushing out with one arm and extending the other, far away from him as he reached over. You caught him sharply in the chest and he barely grunts, reaching in a display of desperation. He can feel your breath bursting against his collar as you wind up for another yell. “You don’t even like them!”

“Stop complaining- just hand them over-”

“(F/n)?”

Steve freezes, ice-cold fear running through his bloodstream. Throat drying, his gaze dropped from yours, panic overtaking his motor functions. You take his momentary stillness to jab him with your elbow, pushing him off your shoulder and turning toward the voice.

He knew who it was before having to turn around.

He heard that voice... saw her face whenever he closed his eyes. She was the one person he wanted to see the most, and the one person he couldn’t talk to. And- she was the only reason you were going to the prom with him. If had had the choice, he would be with her in a heartbeat. He loved her- and it was sucking the life out of him.

The relaxed air he had felt sitting beside you caught in his chest, easily swept away by the girl approaching.

“Nancy?” You ask, grin growing wide as you recognized your friend. But as you actually took a second to look at her, a good forty feet away, you were able to get a look at her face. She was walking toward the two of you at a brisk pace, expression unreadable. Typically, you would’ve received a swift smile back.

That couldn’t be good.

Usually, she would offer him an awkward smile- even a wave if they somehow crossed paths. But the two of you got neither.

“Steve.” You turn to look at him, brows low and expression confused. “You told Nancy about us going to Prom- right?”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Now he knew why she was walking so fast, an uptight vision of pale purple hurtling straight for the car. The realization grabbed him by the throat and squeezed, threatening to stop the flow of oxygen to his brain. He’d really screwed up and his own body knew it before he did.

But what could he do?

He just inhaled through his teeth, shoulder’s raising apologetically.

“Damn it, Steve.” You groaned and turned back to Nancy’s ever-approaching figure, ready for the worst.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #x reader #reader insert #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #y/n #fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #x you

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tavina-writes · 10 months

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about loch-are there really no good available translations? it's a shame. 2017 is really good, are any of the other adaptations worth looking at? does 1983 have subtitles?

Hi Nonny! Oh boy, this is going to be long, so answers to this under the cut.

Regarding LOCH, which I love dearly but find myself frustrated with consistently regarding translation style and quality, there is an official English translation, which I cannot in good faith recommend given that uh, there are whole sentences and passages that Jin Yong never wrote in there. There are character names translated literally and others left in their original format. There's just, mmmm stuff I could never in good faith recommend to people as someone who dearly loves this book. The translator took it upon themselves to also make major writing related edits which as someone who has a long history in fan translation myself, I could never in good conscience recommend. It's kind of like how we have routine "why didn't the mdzs translators do x?" about some things people mention as differences between the Chinese edition and the English edition, except, the edits were absolutely on purpose and uh, not an improvement! Imagine a translation of MDZS where Lan Wangji's name gets translated as "Blue." His name is just Blue now. Wei Ying calls him Blue. Lots of other beloved characters will now get weird English translated names that flatten their nuances. Lan the Teacher. Separation Jiang. Jade Meng. Mulberry Nie. That's. The severity of the problems with the official English translation, and it kind of breaks my heart that it's like that. Why would you read that and why would I suggest that you read that? The sheer condescension towards both the original text and the abilities of the English language readers just drips from these name changes alone.

The fan translated version of LOCH that I know of is here. It's quite rough in some parts grammar wise, and due to the sheer number of translators that worked on this, not always entirely consistent in formating/spelling/etc, but I have spent a lot of time on the spcnet forums, and wholeheartedly appreciate the efforts of the translators there. I think the issues with translating Jin Yong is a matter of both scope and depth. Jin Yong's books are extremely long. Most of his major novels are close to if not over a million Chinese characters each, and DGSD famously features over 200+ named characters. The spcnet translation of DGSD, for example, took 12 years and countless translators to complete and burned out so many of us. It is a major work to translate a Jin Yong book on length and time input alone.

Further complicating matters, Jin Yong wrote wuxia with the insistence that it could be literature instead of merely genre pulp fiction, and his books are deeply rooted in references to Chinese history and literature. I distinctly remember at least four poems and one song as well as an extended discussion of the Jingkang Incident, (also if you've seen the Temple of the Iron Spear sequence in 2017, you can start to understand the scope of the "Jin Yong writes in a way that is rooted in his book being in Chinese for the wordplay alone and it sounds SO WONKY outside of that Chinese context") among lots of other things I probably didn't catch in LOCH alone, which also makes the task of translating his books harder, especially when you have to not only get the plot across, but somehow make accessible all of his wordplay and references as well as the poetry he interjects at various points to heighten certain scenes and their emotionality.

So yeah, it's a task. I'd recommend checking out the fan translation I've linked above if you want to read it though instead of paying money for a book where the Love Interest gets translated to Lotus Huang because the translator....could? Like bonkers English naming conventions aside, I'm not a great recommender of Blue Lan and I'm not a recommender of Huang Rong being turned into Lotus Huang either.

REGARDING THE ADAPTATIONS:

1983 is my beloved childhood adaptation but please remember it is also. It is. It was made by TVB in the 1980s. The accessibility of this to people who do not speak Chinese is rather...low, given the lack of desire from subtitlers to subtitle things made by TVB in the 1980s. (It's also more readily available in Canto though there WAS a Mandarin Dub, that I watched because I don't speak Cantonese.) I think the first third of the series is available on Youtube with the English autotranslate feature? I can dig up this link for you if you would like to see it because 83 is dear to my heart, but I would not make anyone who isn't a LOCH fanatic sit through this merely for my sake, yknow.

1994 I am unfortunately not really that impressed with 1994, and 94 is kind of like the ignored middle child of LOCH adaptations so there is also no english subtitling anywhere and it's also more widely available in Cantonese. This was a 90s TVB production. I am not sure you want to watch this one.

2003 is one of my favorite adaptations! when it's going well. When it's not going well [lolsob] truly the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, the hands down best in some areas and the "I fear you did not realize this CGI would not be cool" in others. Find the first 41 episodes here and the last episode here. This is LOCH for LOCH/Jin Yong nerds, the pacing is incredibly tight for the first 3/4ths and the expansions were made with the book in hand and the themes in mind. I would say though that 8 episodes of Mongolia is likely not where one wants to begin when watching LOCH 😔.

2008 .....I am a professional 08 LOCH hater. 😔It decided a sex pest needed nuance when the original rightfully gives him NOTHING. NO INTERIORITY. THE MALE EQUIVALENT OF A SEXY LAMP. I cannot explain to you how much I hate the Ouyang Ke - Mu Nianci - Yang Kang love triangle in 08 because my homeboy (evil trash son) Yang Kang does NOT have enough good qualities for you to subtract some so a 30+ year old sex pest can share. The storyline edits were at times just "I see you did this for drama, but tell me why???" 😔 It does have Hu Ge in it though, though I would say that this was not Hu Ge's best work given that he was coming off of a really bad car crash.

2017 I think this one is the most accessible and most book faithful adaptation for LOCH and also the one that I'd most recommend people to see, since it both has good English Subtitles (and is on Youtube and IQiYi if you look for Legend of the Condor Heroes 2017). Also great fight scenes. 2017 loves its fight scenes. And is also a remake of 1983.

2023/2024/the Yao Ke LOCH - This one isn't out yet! The trailer looks absolutely BANGING though. This one is uhhh apparently a more deconstructed LOCH version where we get extra backstory details so I have no idea what we're getting into here but the production quality looks insane. Anyway who knows when the censorship board will have mercy on us and lolsob when this will appear or if it'll get lost in Tencent's giant cdrama vault to haunt me from now until the end of time. You'll hear me scream if it comes out.

https://m.weibo.cn/status/N5ZMnAMmw?refer_flag=1001030103_

Thanks for the ask Nonny! Uh! I'm not sure if all this was helpful but maybe it was? I love LOCH very much so if you have more questions and or thoughts come back to my inbox and tell me! (also who's your favorite character from 2017 so far?)

#legend of the condor heroes #asks and answers #lolsob #long post #my posts

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rubberbandballqueen · 5 months

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About your tags: is there more that you can share about the OW fandom and fics? This was a phenomenon I wonder about too. It was one of the most popular fandoms around 2017-2018, but the way the fandom stopped on its tracks around 2019 was hard not to notice. Especially from people who didn't play the game but were aware of it's fandom.

oh! overwatch is one of about 50-ish fandoms i track for this one spreadsheet project i do as a hobby (which i Technically blog about @fandom-data-scientist, but i've been too lazy to do a proper writeup to explain what the hell it is i do), wherein i try to answer the age-old question: when did the weebs move to ao3?

(the answer is late 2015/early 2016. most likely this was in large part a result of undertale and sports anime, but that's currently just my own conjecture)

According To My Research(tm), the overwatch fandom peaked in late 2016/early 2017 when it comes to the number of new fics posted per month. after this, it declined quite rapidly, as it didn't even get to enjoy a plateau period.

(there's a reason why the plots are really wonky towards the end of this graph-- it's bc i found the past dates for number of fics archived to a particular site via the wayback machine. since those snapshots are typically bot crawls, the number of fics shown on the fandoms listings will not include fics that have been archive-locked. although i technically started this project in august 2022, i did not add overwatch to my tracking list until this june/july or so. my current guess for the small uptick in the rate of ow fics published to ao3 in october 2022 is that the sequel came out? and then the rate plunged for january 2023 bc of the ai scraping scare that happened at around that time-- nearly every single fandom i track had a significant drop right then bc everyone was archive-locking their fics. the rate shooting up in like july 2023 on this chart is bc like i said, that's when i added ow to my list of tracked fandoms; because i'm logged into my own ao3 acct when checking these numbers live, i get access to the archive-locked fics and so the display number goes up.)

in my experience, fandoms will generally kind of plateau in their fic production after their peak, which will ofc normally gradually taper off. games that receive regular lore or story updates probably have fairly long or stable plateaus, although i haven't made scatterplots or made any comparing analyses to prove this rigorously. this plateau period generally represents a time of fandom stability as the fair-weather, casual, or migratory slash fans run off to the next big thing.

if we ignore the fact the plague and quarantine happened, we can see a nice, steady, and very consistent plateau period for the danganronpa fandom from about 2018-2020!

let's look at an older fandom, like my archnemesis final fantasy:

granted, the ao3 numbers are kind of all over the place these days, but you kind of get my point by now, right? that healthy fandoms tend to plateau as the wind carries away the faintly-interested and leaves the long-haulers behind to form their communities.

overwatch struck me as unusual when i was on one of my long wayback machine trips because of the way there was a net increase of only two fics published from 1 july 2021 to 1 october 2021, when before then it had usually been in the hundreds or so. i then went on a work tangent n googled around n more or less concluded it had Something to do with some kind of scandal with the development company, but otherwise i don't really have any more comments on it hahaha.

#asks #Anonymous #long post #i was too lazy to open my other spreadsheets in the project but i probably could've gotten clearer/longer plateaus #out of some of the western tv shows i've been tracking. like glee. or spn.#glee is INCREDIBLY funny to me bc of the way it just DIES right after the finale. like a bubble POPPING #although frankly maybe naruto would've been a better example for a peak n a plateau bc of how steady its fandom is #anyway this felt kind of like an odd ask to answer on this blog bc i keep it Very Separate from my fandom blog(s) hahaha #anyway i also looked at the rate of fic postage for the kingdom hearts fandom n although i didn't talk abt it here in this reply #i thought it interesting how it seemed to plummet on ffn around when ao3 n tumblr started getting a foothold #and then after the weebs moved to ao3 post-undertale/sports anime boom it had a nice steady 300-ish fics/month there #ANYWAY the reason final fantasy is my archnemesis for this project is bc ffn has each game split into its own category #and so i have to count them all up every single time n when doing that for every single fucking date i have marked in the wbm #for 20 YEARS' WORTH OF DATES. well. it upsets a man just a little bit.#BUT I'M DONE I DID MY TIME ON THE FINAL FANTASY BACKLOG I'M FREE NOW I JUST HAVE TO DO IT EVERY THREE MONTHS WHEN I RECORD LIVE DATA #i talk abt this shit at parties btw. people love to hear me talk abt my fandom spreadsheets at parties.

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adobe-outdesign · 2 years

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Thoughts on the sawsbuck evolution?

I'm a big fan of winter deerling and sawsbuck with its fluffy legs <3

Deerling is pretty simple, but I do like the design quite a bit. The specific shape of the colored areas combined with the lovely gold accents just looks really pleasing to the eye. I also like the spots (appropriate for a fawn) and the cream-colored base.

With that said though, the face does bug me. It has that kind of generic nondescript muzzle and sideways mouth that always bother me. Pokemon don't have to be anatomically correct all the time obviously, but something a little closer to a proper muzzle would've worked better, especially when the evolution has one. (The legs are also a little wonky, but that's not quite as bothersome as the face.)

In terms of the seasonal forms: First, I should mention how crappy it is that we never get the other non-spring forms due to the season mechanic being scrapped. Why not correlate the forms to the user's season instead of in-game seasons? Or even better, why not just have different forms appear in different climates? Winter in snowy, icy climates, Spring in rainy climates, Summer in general climates, and Autumn in cold-but-not-freezing climates. Or hell, just introduce items to change the forms, I don't care, just bring them back; they're really the main concept of the entire line and it doesn't work nearly as well without them.

Anyway, with that said, Deerling's different forms are just kind of recolors, and while they all look fine, I do find the difference between it and Sawsbuck to be jarring. Why does Deerling not change its design but changes colors, while Sawsbuck changes its design but not its base color? Some consistency would've been nice. I also kind of feel like you could've just not introduced the season thing until Sawsbuck, seeing as Deerling doesn't do too much with it. Still, like I said, all of them look nice. Summer's probably my least favorite--I would've preferred a less saturated forest green--while autumn and winter are tied for my favorites.

I was today years old when I learned that Sawsbuck is S.A.W.S.buck, IE Spring, Autumn, Winter, and Summer.

Anyway, as a whole, I do like these guys fine; the markings still look very nice (though I do question the spots. Wasn't the idea of spots on Deerling because its a fawn?) and the seasons are implemented and distinctive. Part of me wonders if they should've kept the different base colors of Deerling to differentiate them even more, but part of me also likes the subtle brown.

Between all of them, summer is once again my least fav. Aside from some seemingly random choices (why is it the only one to not have chest fluff? Why is it the only one to have its tail going up? Why the fur on the back of the head?), the green is once again a bit too intense for my tastes and clashes with the brown when it comes to the back spots, and the leafy antlers are a bit much and distract from the actual deer.

Autumn form has a similar problem with the antlers, but at least the colors are nicer on that one and the overall design is better. However, I do wish the color was more orange-y to match Deerling and to keep it from looking so similar to the spring form. Speaking of which, I also feel like those two look too similar; the colors are close, and the bodies are near-identical except for the antlers. Summer form's changes may be random, but they at least make the design a bit more unique.

Spring is looks pretty good, but only having a few small flowers on the antlers feels a hair understated. Feels like they could've worked more of them into the chest fur, in place of the spots, or around the legs. This would've helped with the aforementioned issue of it looking a bit too similar to the autumn design.

Winter, meanwhile, is probably my fav. I really like the contrast of the white and how nicely it compliments the brown and yellow, but I also like how it's actually adapted to the season it represents, with a full-on winter coat.

Also, as a final note: while normal/grass makes sense, I do question if these guys could've gotten away with different typings, just for fun. Grass/water for spring (it's wet out), normal/grass stays for summer, grass/ghost for autumn (spook season), and grass/ice for winter. Might've added a little extra something.

Overall, these are some pretty nicely-designed deer with a simple but unique gimmick that really needs to make a comeback. As a whole, I'd say the summer forms are my least favorite, while the winter ones are my favorite.

#deerling #sawsbuck #pokemon #pokemon reviews

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domjaehyun · 1 year

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i never said i looked through the tags. i simply placed hc’s name on the search bar and looked through it (i was looking more for fics but i was looking for pics and updates too). i know i can just filter the tag (which i don’t and won’t bc tumblr’s filter tends to be faulty & filters whole unrelated posts e.g. “funeral” = post with “fun” gets filtered), but tumblr did put the community label now for a purpose too, right? it’s easy to put it too, so may i politely ask why not just turn it on?

sorry this got long and i don’t wanna make ppl scroll past it so it’s under the cut !!

i didn’t say you looked through the tags :) i asked if you did, what did you search? and searching haechan’s name is essentially looking for him in the tags of #haechan posts (and apparently similar tags), no? either way, me asking what you searched was the point of the question because i deliberately tag my fics a certain way. i also find that searching by tag as opposed to regular searches makes the search a lot more specific; as we know, apparently #haechan smut will appear in the “haechan” search but #haechan posts wouldn’t bear the same results! not pressuring you to do anything btw, i’m just making a light suggestion that might make your time here better :)

and you could block the tag, though? as opposed to the keyword? a post with #haechan smut or #nct smut wouldn’t get through the filter and you wouldn’t be seeing anything you didn’t want to, with no extra effort on your part or the parts of the writers you don’t want to see.

tumblr, quite frankly, did not think that feature (community labels) through very well. a large number of blogs haven’t changed their settings to view posts with mature/drugs & alcohol/violence labels, because they most likely still don’t know, and tumblr defaulted to setting everyone’s filters to “hide” as opposed to “blur” or “show.”

not everyone checks up on tumblr’s new updates (i happen to but that’s just me) and reblogs of posts about the community labels only get so far. additionally, i’m p sure turning on/off your community rating filters is only available on desktop as of right now, so mobile users might not have gotten around to it/might not have access to desktop.

so essentially? a lot of people won’t see the post that would normally see it if there’s a community label slapped onto it. it limits the visibility of the fic and it’s a little frustrating to work for ages on a story and post it, knowing that probably dozens, maybe hundreds, possibly even thousands, of blogs haven’t turned on the feature to be able to see the post.

it just seems like a lot of extra work for you to go through searches where you haven’t filtered smut and appeal every single smut fic you find. i’m sure there are a lot. i have a bunch of things blacklisted as tags specifically and tumblr never messes up with filtering them. (i will agree with you that filtering keywords as opposed to tags is still wonky.)

you could also just block this blog, btw. i wouldn’t take it personally (i’ve blocked literally hundreds of blogs just for posting things i don’t like) especially because this isn’t my main blog so blocking it wouldn’t affect me much. i don’t post anything but smut in my writings and that’s the only stuff i put in the tags, so you wouldn’t have to scroll past anything of mine :)

anyway sorry for going on for so long !! but yeah that’s my (albeit lengthy) response as to why i don’t use the community labels (and won’t until tumblr makes the system more functional). :)

#answered #anon #sorry this got lengthy my adderall makes me talk more #also the colors are just for highlighting the important parts i read this over and didn’t want it to come off as like . rude

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littleshysheep-at-da · 16 days

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Hello, I hope you are well. Can you please share some headcanons and canon reflections about Karnatia and Schlain? I really loved the ones that you did for Wrath. Thank you so much!

Thank you so much for the well wishes! I’m still VERY ill but have a support system trying to get me help ☺️ so we keep chugging! Still won’t be super active here but I LOVE answering these asks 💕

And THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE VALIDATION ❤️?! Like I am so incredibly happy people enjoy my ranting and want to hear/value my opinion, it’s wild and super enjoyable.

Still considering just posting my whole current Kumoko Headcanon (I have expanded some points from previous Kyouya/Wrath one too haha) but it’s suuuper long and I am CONSTANTLY adding too it. Let me know if anyone is interested.

Kyouya is def my fav so I have waaay more for him but I do have some for Katia and Shun (probably more on Shun just cause we get more from his perspective in the Novel)! As a massive Shipper again most of them revolve around my OT3 (I have no shame there haha).

Heads up for Spoiler Warning (I think I give mostly vague Spoiler for the entire series but except the Kumoko/Wakaba thing is directly said).

(Again I’m ripping this from my KumoDesu Fanfic ideas Doc so if some of the wording is wonky that’s why because it’s older and I write this just to get my thoughts down).

Trans Katia: Update: 16 novels we get two chapters from Katia’s perspective but I think there is one or two more shorts from her perspective in the Ex-Ex2. Okay so far in all 12 novels we get one (1) chapter from Katia’s perspective so there’s not a lot to go off but Katia was definitely closeted/uncracked egg Trans Girl in her past life fight me. Cracking the egg/getting outed via isekai lol. Out of roughly 30 reincarnations Katia is is the only one that switched gender and it’s explained (aside from Oka which D did just to cause trouble) the system puts them in bodies that best fit their soul this being why some characters reincarnated as not humans and why Katia is a girl. So the only characters who changed gender or race are Katia, Fei, Sophia, Kyouya, and Oka who doesn’t count in this. Shiro was always a spider thus why she is a spider. Kyouya deeply agreed with the Goblin’s mentalities and morals. We see later that Fei’s personality and morals really fits with the dragon's code of conduct. Sophia being a vampire isn’t super explained and more how people viewed her. So like failing in line Katia must be a Trans Woman basically.

Katia Anxiety: I think Katia is very protective of her boys. It’s kinda obvious when she meets Shun again and then when they get in dangerous situations. She’s so scared of losing the people she cares about (I think she’s often the most aware of how different and how dangerous the fantasy world is compared to their previous lives). I think the realization Kyouya probably isn’t on their side (because of how Oka kept avoiding the topic) probably hurt her a lot, because she doesn’t want to abandon him but also is too scared about losing Shun as it is (and I feel like when she puts everything together after the fact she feels super guilty for not pressing more). It kinda seemed she really didn’t have many people she was close to in her past life and the fact that Shun (and I’m gonna Headcanon here later Kyouya) still accept her despite everything that’s “different” (cough cough eye cracked) is huge to her. I’m glad in the Novel Shun always does a very good job conveying how much he appreciates, relays on, and trusts her because god she needs it.

Shun and Julius: The fun part about Shun as a Character is he is painfully aware how much of an NPC he is and that he doesn’t fit the role of Hero. Which is why I think he looks up to Julius so much and later on tries to emulate him. He quite frankly knows he has NO IDEA what he is doing and wants to be as level headed and smart as Julius. I think that his idol-like obsession with Julius comes from his own insecurities.

Shun, Katia, and Kyouya are Weird (aka Poly):“They're weird about each other” is one of my favorite Shipping reasons because it’s so true. I mean Shun and Katia are pretty solid in Canon and I would say I’m just adding Kyouya to it to make it an OT3 but also once I see it I can’t unsee it. Just the fact that all 3 of them single out their “Friendship” as something special. I don’t think Katia super had other friends in her past life (being an uncracked egg will make that hard) but Shun and Kyouya did and they never really mention it. Shun was peak NPC and was not super close but friendly to most of the guys but he NEVER mentions it until running into them again (apparently he was on a soccer team and just, never thought it was important or that big a deal). And it’s Shiro who mentions it seems like Kyouya and Shinobu were friends in their past life, Kyouya barely mentions it even after seeing him again. Just the “you're weird about each other” being a way of saying “that’s a little more than a friendship I think” basically.

Polyamorous not having Legal Marriage: So at the end of Volume 16 they mention that nothing is know about Shun’s love life, which might mean he never legally married. Now I like think Shun and Katia legally married and then Kyouya is their lover (they have a non-legal marriage for the 3 of them in private). But I am just saying this can support my Ship because Polyamory isn’t really that accepted publicly so they keep it secret (open secret among their friends though). It’s sort of an AU but I’m just saying.

Shun Salaryman: So it says at the end of Vol 16 Shun goes back to help his Brother and all I can think is he’s finally becomes a Salaryman. Imagine he helps with all the paperwork instead of decision making. And he’s really good at it to the point of everyone’s surprise. He finally realized JUST how lost he was trying to be a Hero (he always sort of knew but now that he’s found his calling it’s super obvious to everyone else as well).

Shun’s Accidental Rizz: So we see that Shun is always ridiculous earnest about his feelings and has no qualms expressing his appreciation (we see this most to Katia early on where he always thanks her for helping him). So I like to think for my OT3 he accidentally says the most romantic shit to Katia and Kyouya all the time unprompted because he’s just being honest about it (Kyouya Bluescreens because he’s so unused to verbal affection (he likes it he’s just used to the Demon Army’s brand of nonverbal love) and Katia goes Tsundere Mode when flustered).

Shun: Shun is an Emotional Support Dumbass. And anyone who hates him (usually people who only saw his botched Anime version) can meet me in the pit. I also think his general easy going-ness probably helped both Katia and Kyouya a lot in their past lives (because it seemed like neither of them had the easiest home life’s and then they have it rough again after being reincarnated rip).

And that’s all I have at the moment! I’m always adding more though haha. Feel free to keep sending KumoDesu Asks I love them!

#trash meme #ask #kumo desu ga nani ka #so i’m a spider so what #kumoko #kumodesu #shun x Katia x kyouya #the fact that you used their actual names instead of nicknames is impressive #I gave up on spelling their full names

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veebs-hates-video-games · 6 months

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I'm trying to stay on top of things while they're still fresh in my memory, but sometimes brain no worky. I'll get a couple out of the way quickly that won't take long because I didn't last long with them though.

Fate/EXTELLA LINK was probably the most unpleasant experience I've had with a game in the past six months at least. I kept seeing people say how if you like Musou games it's a pretty decent one, so I eventually gave in and tried it when it was on sale. Bad move on my part.

I could maybe have stuck with it a bit longer to see if I could get used to the kind of wonky UI (why can I do the same thing in like three different places, and why is so much of it uglier and harder to read than it really needs to be?) or if the unbearably long recovery lag on basic combos gets better with upgrades/unlocks or there's some way to cancel out of it, but the writing is insultingly bad and made me quit out of the game pretty quickly.

The premise is...fine? Whatever? I guess? Nothing super original, but they could do something fun with it...except they can't go five seconds without pandering to their target audience of horny guys simping for their waifus. I can tolerate a little bit of that even if I don't like it, as long as there's enough other stuff to like and it's not the main focus of things, but this is just ugh.

I will give it points for unintentionally having one of the more confusing perspectives on gender I've seen recently. It lets you choose your player character's gender at the start, but as far as I can tell from the little bit I played that affects literally nothing other than the character model it uses. You can be standing there looking like a teenage girl while someone very vigorously calls you their husband, because the dialogue doesn't seem to change at all.

That could actually be really fun if it were on purpose and it were a femboy malewife situation or a non-transitioning trans man or whatever, but instead [see above about not being able to go five seconds witout pandering to etc.]. It almost makes me want to start yet another sideblog to post about crimes against gender I see in media.

And then the other one I abandoned fairly quickly was Inscryption, which is sad because I was really looking forward to it after how much I liked Pony Island. After like 20-30 minutes though my main reaction was bro, I am straight up not having a good time. It probably does something interesting eventually, but I'm not going to find out because I'm not willing to suffer through playing any more of it to see what happens next.

The UI and controls are annoying, quite possibly deliberately, but that doesn't make me feel any better playing it even if it is on purpose. I don't really like the general aesthetic or tone much either. I don't think there's necessarily anything horribly or fundamentally wrong with it, it's just really not my thing and kind of grating for me. Oh well.

And then I'm behind on a couple things I did play all the way through and had a good time with but haven't said anything about yet: Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow and Ys VIII: Lacrimosa of Dana. Totally coincidentally they're both things where I really didn't like the early entries in either series much at all but was convinced to try a newer one by the sheer number of people saying how good they were, and for a change I actually agree with them.

#fate/extella link #inscryption

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gardengobbo · 11 months

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June 4th 2023

Nature adventures part II

I really should have brought my camera, oe at least my smaller digital camera, with me during this walk. I was really kicking my self for not doing do when I realized the wonky sound we were hearing was a baby deer. So I'm sorry in advance, my stupid phone camera has a horrific digital zoom and the photo is awful. But trust me there's a sweet little deer in this photo lmao.

Prior to the deer spotting though, someone had spotted a turtle off the side of the pre-woodland area. Closer to the main pond. She didn't know what kind of turtle it was, and I'm not an expert on turtlea bit I'd guessed it was a painted turtle. Looking it up, the markings on the edge of the shell seem to match up with that so I guess I know more about turtles than I thought lol. No photo to share of this one though!

Continuing along we'd come across the Red-Osier Dogwood and as I was identifying that, I noticed a little caterpillar munching away.

Well munching and scurrying away from my bothersome phone.

Following the trails we eventually came to a partly fenced off tree. It was huge and marked as a heritage tree. It certainly was impressive looking and honestly quite beautiful. Turns out it's an over 250 year old white oak tree. Which I suppose is probably the reason the general area that these trails are in is called White Oaks. I imagine 200+ years ago there were plenty of white oak tree in the area, only to have been chopped down for city expansion.

Again, I wish I had brought my camera. Next time.

Another nifty sight is the sort of natural steps that form from various tree roots. This isn't the best looking spot of them, but I wasnt willing to go back down the cooler looking set ti photograph it and climb back up. I may be getting out and being more active that I've been for a whe, but I'm still an out-of-shape goblin and doing it once was enough to get me outta breath 😅

Last thing to share from this trip photograph wis is this interesting mutation? or something, on this leaf. Not sure why but a couple of them almost seem to have decided half way through forming that they no longer wanted to be one type of leaf and just changed course.

It's definitely all one leave, just looked really funky!

We also saw a pretty decently sized garter snake, maybe a bit over a foot long? I don't think I've ever actually seen one that large but to be fair I've only ever seen one before that and it was just a baby.

Overall it was a beautiful day, and lovely walk, and just really nice to enjoy the ambient sounds of nature for a while.

I look forward to doing it again. Maybe next time we'll bring along Oy too. He's just not good at meeting people, so I worry that on sort of close quarters like the walking paths he's going to be uncomfortable. We'll see!

On that note, him not doing well meeting people is why I don't take him with me on my solo plant ID'ing walks. If I'm busy flipping through my book and someone bikes or jogs by, he'll get spooked and try to take off after 'em. When we go for walks, it's all about him so I can keep an eye out for his triggers and such. Just in case anyone was wondering. Not that I mention my pets much here!

I'm now gonna head outside and give the garden a once over, so maybe we'll have some more garden pictures for layer too.

Much love!

#nature walk #nature photography #caterpillar #white oak #white oak tree #woodlands #tree roots

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