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wttcsms · 5 months

Note

grumpy tenured professor Naoya x new, sunshine-y associate professor reader !!

lessons in intimacy, naoya zenin ;

pairing naoya zenin x f!reader word count 4.5k synopsis naoya zenin, phd, still has a lot to learn, and you are a surprisingly good teacher content contains fluff!!!, academia au, and they were office roomies!, naoya-centric, he bashes the arts </3

Learning Objective One: Notice Things About Your Partner

Naoya Zenin stares at the heart-shaped cake you left on his desk and refrains from going absolutely batshit.

He can feel the pinpricks of irritation poking his insides, making him curl his hands in annoyance. Two weeks prior, there was a staff meeting informing the business school that they would be sharing their classrooms and offices with the English professors since apparently, due to poor plumbing and a lack of funding, their shack of a school building got flooded and was therefore deemed “unsafe” and “unusable.”

Naoya distinctly remembers making a snide comment about how majoring in something as worthless as English or literature should be deemed a safety hazard and that the degree is basically unusable. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling everyone in the school to get a grip and let the entire English department just float away into a nearby swamp.

The business professors all agreed and considering that all of their students end up becoming wealthy alumni who donate money to ensure that their buildings don’t go under, Naoya doesn’t care about the enraged comments from the English department.

All his rude remarks seem to ensure that he’ll be left alone, which is exactly how he likes to be. It seems that he’s the most hated business school professor and no one is willing to share a space with him.

Because you are the youngest and newest member of the faculty, you end up being the unfortunate soul paired up with Naoya Zenin, PhD. When you first step into the office, big box filled with your printed lesson plans and desk supplies, he refuses to lend you a hand.

Instead, he sits back in his seat, staring at you with such an intense look in his eyes that you decide to look at anything but him, and he watches you struggle to maneuver around the tight space. Because of the funding, the business school offices are spacious, but to maintain some semblance of privacy, minor renovations were made. Crammed in a corner is a new desk meant for you. If he keeps staring daggers into your very soul, you’re going to make a request to have a room divider put in place so you can cower behind them and avoid his glare.

While your side of the office is small, you make it as unique to yourself as possible. There’s a Cinnamoroll plushie sitting on your desk, a cup holding glittery gel pens, and inside your desk drawers are scratch-‘n-sniff sticker sheets with colorful words of encouragement because the world has already beaten down your students enough — you might as well give them back some of their childhood enjoyment.

Naoya’s desk is vintage mahogany and rarely has anything sitting atop it unless he’s inside the office and on his laptop. Hanging on the wall behind him is his doctoral degree that is forever put on display in a massive, ostentatious frame. Naoya Zenin, PhD from Keio University. Economics, you recall him telling one of his colleagues. Because finance is the poor man’s idea of a prestigious field.

It doesn’t take a degree to know how Dr. Zenin feels about a degree in the arts.

Upon your first awkward meeting with Naoya (where he let you nearly trip and spill all your meager belongings onto his pristine office’s floors), you immediately head home and look at your new office buddy’s RateMyProf reviews.

⅕ OVERALL QUALITY BASED ON 986 RATINGS | 0% WOULD TAKE AGAIN | 5.0 LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY

Professor Zenin’s Top Tags

#lotsofhomework

#getreadytoread

#lectureheavy

#skipclass?youwon’tpass

Review 1: i dropped my econ major because of him. this wasn’t even supposed to be a weeder class

Review 2: DR ZENIN IS THE WORST PROFESSOR FOR ECONOMICS. HE MIGHT BE THE WORST PROFESSOR IN THE BUSINESS SCHOOL. HE MIGHT EVEN BE THE WORST PROFESSOR IN THIS WHOLE DAMN UNIVERSITY!!!!!! DO NOT TAKE HIM! I regret not taking everyone else’s advice and going with Dr. Gojo instead

Review 3: only redeeming quality is being hot, but he’s still an asshole

Review 4: Misogynist, doesn’t believe women can be leaders in the business world, has God awful takes that literally no one sane would agree with, teaches what HE thinks is right and refuses to acknowledge any opposing viewpoints, talks down on students, and that’s all i can say about him from the TWO DAYS i attended his class. i immediately dropped his course LOL

Review 5: Dr. Zenin’s rigorous coursework and unforgiving grading has prepared me for graduate school, and I still believe all the courses I had with him provided me with a better foundation than my other peers in my doctoral program. However, he did make my undergrad experience a miserable one. His lectures are hard to follow at times, and he creates his exams with the intent of making it unpassable. He’s the professor that you wonder why he hasn’t been fired yet.

You search for any positive comments about him, but it appears that the students hate everything about him, to his tests, his teaching style, and his personality.

In all honesty, it’s kind of sad. What must it be like, you wonder, to be so hated by the very students you’re meant to teach and inspire? You’re willing to give Naoya the benefit of the doubt — you know how one student’s misconception against a professor can paint a bad picture overall. Maybe Naoya is just a difficult person to understand! An undercover softie, if you will.

There’s no harm in trying to be friendly with him. After all, the two of you are going to be partners for the foreseeable future. You don’t have the energy to remain constantly on your guard around him.

You start off with little things, like burning candles in the office to fill it with sweet, welcoming scents. You offer to let him borrow your extension cord so his charger doesn’t have to bend all awkwardly when he plugs in his laptop. You make an effort to ensure that the classroom is clean before his class enters because that’s a courteous thing to do. You notice that when he eats his lunch on campus, he’s always unwrapping a sweet treat afterwards.

You can’t be a truly bad person if you have a sweet tooth, you rationalize.

So, you bake him little goods and leave them on his desk. When a week goes by and he doesn’t acknowledge your actions but the goods are always gone by the time lunchtime is over, you think you’re making progress. You notice that he seems stressed and annoyed every time he storms into the office, and so you start adding tiny notes of motivation alongside the goods, too.

Written on a pink sticky note that’s in the shape of a heart (probably to match the fucking miniature cake you baked), Naoya’s eye almost starts to twitch as he examines every loop and curve of the letters you personally handwritten for him.

I hope you have a great day today! Look on the bright side, you’re done with all your lectures for the week!

Naoya angrily takes a bite out of the cake as he waits for his laptop to turn on. The sugary sweetness does very little to alleviate his annoyance, but he can begrudgingly admit that the cake is good. Delicious, even.

This makes his scowl deepen.

How annoying, he thinks, tossing your note in the trash bin (not having the heart to crumple it up like he used to do with your previous notes). What are you, some kind of a stalker? How is it any of your business to know that Thursdays are his last days for teaching since business schools don’t believe in having class on Friday? And why do you always do that? Saying I hope?

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Momo,” he remembers you telling your blonde-haired student. “But I hope you consider sticking with your creative writing major. We’ll lose a very talented student if you choose to go, you know.”

Naoya had let out a little snort of amusement at this. Who the fuck cares about whether or not students drop out? If they can’t handle the coursework, clearly they’re not cut out for the real world. He finds it annoying that you practically hold their hands, coddling them, always tacking on an I hope because you don’t want to demand people to do things. So much damn consideration, he wonders how you even survive in this big city. You’re probably the type of person who apologizes when someone else gets in your way at a busy store. You probably let yourself get cut in line. You definitely give money to panhandlers who are only posing as the homeless and needy.

Naoya wants to take joy in the fact that you are the type of person who could easily be taken advantage of, but as he finishes the cake you made for him, the idea of people purposely giving you a hard time just because you’ll take it lying down makes him feel even more irritated than before.

He takes out his frustration on his students. A first-year student emailed him asking for an extension, so Naoya tells them either they get it done by the original deadline, or he is more than willing to just give them the zero right now. In the real world, your boss and your clients will not give a single shit that you are hospitalized after being hit by a truck. Perhaps, if you used the brain inside your head and the eyes on your face, you would know better than to cross the road when a speeding truck is heading your way.

Then, he thinks that you would probably gladly give your students an extension if they asked. You’d probably even visit them in the fucking hospital, like the saint you think you are.

You’re so helpful to the point of your kindness being detrimental to your own wellbeing. You extend deadlines, and then have to beg and plead with the dean and bust your ass to get final grades in by the required date. All that struggle could have been avoided if you just gave the zero. You hear out your students, letting them speak their minds, and it cuts into your lecture time. Nobody is paying tuition to hear another student’s ramblings. And how long does it take you to bake him these desserts? It’s something different every day, always fresh, always seemingly made with care.

He doesn’t even know how you know he likes sweets. Lucky guess, he tells himself.

You see, Naoya knows that he is respected (somewhat) and feared (most definitely). He knows that he is not loved, not by his colleagues (who are all intimidated by him), not by his family (who thinks becoming a professor at a prestigious research university is dogshit when he should have been a global economist), not by his students (the university-mandated end-of-the-term class surveys are always sent to him). So to him, despite the ego he presents to the public, he cannot fathom the idea of someone noticing little things about himself. He definitely can’t imagine someone noticing and caring — it would honestly make more sense if they used private information against him.

He doesn’t think about you noticing him, and he refuses to think about all the things he subconsciously notices about you. He can recognize you by your perfume alone; someone had passed him by in the hall, and his eyes searched for your figure, only to be greeted by a student who just happened to favor the same fragrance as you. (He had snapped at the poor girl, telling her to walk faster or get out of the way.) He’s certain he knows the fucking HTML color code for the specific shade of lipgloss you’re always constantly applying in the office. One time, against his better judgment, he saves the place you’re at in your book. You had fallen asleep at your desk, your finger pressed on the page you were struggling to read, and then your head banged on the desk, hand slipping away. He doesn’t know why he didn’t leave you alone in the office; he had no business staying that late since none of his students were brave enough to turn in any assignments to be graded. There was an on-campus police alert the day before, though. Naoya rationalizes that he just didn’t want any criminals or deviants breaking into his office and destroying it. That’s all.

He actively avoids any thought of you, not realizing the irony of how, in his vehement attempts to ignore your existence, he is very much acknowledging you.

Learning Objective Two: Have Meaningful Conversations With Your Partner

“Why do you do that?” Naoya snaps, breaking the silence in the office.

Naoya is the type of person who does not simply say things — he snaps, he sneers, he smirks. And he has the exact tonation, voice, manner of speaking, of someone who grew up and was never told to shut the fuck up. With his current position in life, it seems like no one ever will.

“Do what?” You look up from the papers you’re grading, staring at him all doe-eyed and genuinely confused that Naoya discovers the unfortunate fact that he does, actually, possess a heart. An annoying one that gets all tight in his chest and starts beating against his rib cage every time you look at him. He’d charge you with a hospital bill from a top of the line cardiologist, but he knows you get paid like shit in comparison to him. Also, because he doesn’t like the idea of women spending money on his behalf.

“Give out pity grades.”

It’s like you’ll do anything in your power to not fail a student. You’re just pulling out participation points straight from your ass! And the comments — don’t get him started on the amount of comments you waste time leaving on your students’ papers. There’s a reason why his grades always get entered before deadlines. He’s efficient.

“And ruthless.” You tell him, after hearing him tell you all about his “efficiency.” “We’re here to help cultivate their minds. Get them to think. College shouldn’t be about getting grades based on your professor’s mood.”

Was that somehow an attack on him? He should be annoyed. Instead, he finds this side of you less annoying.

“I’m always in the same mood every time I grade.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, vindictive?” You’re teasing him, and he wouldn’t let just anyone get away with such a comment. He’s bored, he tells himself. That’s why he’s entertaining this. Unlike someone, he doesn’t have anything left to grade.

“Nah. Irritated. They’re all idiots.”

You frown. “No student is an idiot.”

He gives you a look. “You teach English.”

“Intro to Classic Lit.” You correct him.

“Right.” He says this slowly. “Idiots.”

“Maybe yours, but definitely not mine.”

“Let's compare our students’ majors and potential earnings after graduation.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look. “There’s nothing wrong with pursuing your passions.”

“Great. Do you tell them that when the cashier tells them their card declined? Or, does the passion end up paying the total? Are grocery stores accepting passion as a form of payment now?”

“Don’t be as mean as people say you are.”

His signature smug air of superiority momentarily dissipates at this statement. It’s not often that someone can get Naoya to shut up. To be bested by someone who grades using pink gel pens is so humbling, the only thing keeping him on his pedestal is the fact that he knows he’s the youngest tenured professor in this whole entire university and an acclaimed researcher (he always makes the list for top five most cited economic researchers). You’re fresh out of a doctoral program, and even being tenure-track would be a pipe dream for you.

“There’s nothing mean about being honest.”

“You can be honest without being mean.”

“It’s the truth. Students are idiots.” He shrugs, because what the fuck is he supposed to do about it?

“Then why become a professor?”

“Sweetheart, professors that work here are researchers first, teachers… no, not second. Maybe third? If they’re that dedicated to shaping young minds, or whatever fantasy you’ve got going on.”

“Well, I believe that the students are here to learn. And before you call them stupid again, that’s the great part about learning. You don’t have to be smart to do it.”

Growing up, Naoya had to be a lot of things, smart being one of them. No one in his household was ever capable of producing an ounce of empathy, and considering all the people he’s been surrounded by since his prep school, university, and internship days have all been raised in similar environments. The world is unforgiving. Naoya lives by the ever-so-poetic motto of “sucks to suck.”

He will go home and lay in bed and stare at the crown molding on his ceiling, and he will recall your sunny disposition. He wants to shame and berate you for being so damn optimistic, for believing in those words, and he will think to himself wouldn’t it be nice for it to be true?

Instead, right now, all he does is huff. The truth is, Naoya is well aware that his students aren’t stupid, even if he tells them that they are every time they’re in class and every time they dare to come to his office hours to debate their grades. They aren’t stupid in the booksmart sense, but they are very dumb when it comes to the real world, and Naoya considers it a ruthless kind of mercy that he exacts on them. They’re idiots because they have all the potential in the world and would rather waste their time on stupid shit and procrastinate on their assignments instead of putting forth any real effort.

If they tried, he would give them an A.

Learning Objective Three: Be Specific and Sincere With Your Praise

You’re crying.

In his head, Naoya tries to force himself to roll his eyes but finds his body unwilling to comply with the demands of his mind. He’s annoyed, but the irritation isn’t directed at you.

It’s at the man sitting across from you. Dr. Kimura got his PhD from Cambridge and thinks he’s hot shit, but out of pure curiosity, Naoya found his dissertation online and still uses it as free melatonin. Two paragraphs in knocks him out faster than a whole bottle of sleeping pills.

Dr. Kimura asks him to leave, into which Naoya reminds him that this is technically his office, and that Dr. Kimura is an intruder. Too much time spent with you in such a confined space has some of your little lessons rubbing off on him. Words are so important to you. Naoya decides that visitor and guest are too kind, too euphemistic, for Dr. Kimura. Call it like it is.

Kimura’s business for being here is to give you your first ever teaching evaluation. It’s actually just a poorly disguised attempt at trying to lowball professors’ salaries, but this is the type of schtick that only works on pushovers like you. Naoya leans back in his desk chair, arms crossed, and it’s obvious that he is going to be listening in on the whole entire ordeal. You’re embarrassed to be put on display like this, not knowing that he isn’t here to scrutinize you (for once), but rather he’s your backup.

Before things take a turn for the worse, you’re actually all smiles and sunshines and rainbows.

Stop smiling at him, Naoya thinks. He hates your smile. Hates it the most when it’s directed towards anyone but him.

Kimura begins with a compliment. That’s how all the professors in the arts are taught. Compliment sandwich! Praise, constructive criticism, more praise! What a fucking joke. Naoya thinks his way of handling things is much more efficient. Talk about all the stuff they need improvement on, and whatever isn’t corrected clearly is okay. Don’t you people know how to read in between the lines? Context clues ring any bells? Fuck, what did you all go to school for?

Disaster strikes, just as Naoya predicts.

“Listen, we know that this is your first year of teaching, and you’re still getting settled into your role of professor and not student, but clearly there’s some leniency when it comes to your grading…”

Kimura’s listing all sorts of shit. Grade inflation is what he claims one second, next he’s claiming you have subjective grading criteria. No other Intro to Classic Literature course has a similar class average to yours.

Kimura shakes his head, like he’s disappointed in you. Another tactic that would only work on someone as sweet as you.

“If this continues to be an issue, we may have to reconsider renewing your contract.”

And there are those waterworks Naoya is expecting.

The thing is, Naoya knows a bully when he sees one. Naoya knows all about being cruel just for the sake of being cruel. As cold, shriveled up, and worthless as it seems, Naoya does have a heart.

“That’s bullshit.” He inserts himself into the conversation. You’re staring down at your lap, twiddling with your fingers. Kimura turns to look at him.

“This is a private matter—”

“If it was private, you would have done it in your own office instead of mine.”

“This is a matter that concerns the English department, not yours, Dr. Zenin.”

He’s right. And yet—

“Have you even read any of her students’ papers?”

—Naoya is your backup.

“How is this relevant?”

“Read their papers. Read their first one versus their most recent one. Hell, read every single essay a student has turned in over the course. I guarantee you they deserve the marks she’s given them.”

“Their papers are filled with corrections and questions, and yet, she gives them an A.” Kimura knows all about Naoya’s reputation. He’s infamous. He’s the reason why everyone’s scared of majoring in economics. Naoya Zenin is the toughest grader there is.

“I’ve seen the mental state of your department’s students. She’s doing them a favor by not crushing them.”

“You’re saying they deserve those grades?”

“She lets them redo all their papers within a reasonable period of time and grades based on the overall improvement.” Naoya shrugs, like it’s just that simple. “I don’t see an issue.”

“She’s manipulating grades.”

“She’s giving them a second chance. I personally find that to be admirable.” Naoya is not lying. This is what makes you look up. “And she cares. I think she’s the only one of your faculty who gives a damn about whether her students are learning or not.”

Naoya doesn’t hate a lot of things because he doesn’t like giving certain things so much special attention, but he does dislike insincere people. People like Kimura are the worst because they hide behind fake niceties and table manners, but if you peel off their skin, they’re secretly lizards in disguise. At least in Naoya’s case, no one ever has the luxury of being shocked when he says something very mean and unpleasant because he will never filter himself or put on a mask that gives off the vibe that he practices civility.

As a matter of fact, Naoya has a nasty, serpent-like grin on his face as he locks in on Kimura, caging him in.

“After all, isn't that the point of becoming a professor, Dr. Kimura?”

Gotcha, you slimy bastard.

Learning Objective Four: Be Vulnerable, Put Yourself Out There

“Would you say I’m an asshole?” Naoya brings this up as he helps you pack up your belongings. He claims that it’s because he can’t wait to have his office all to himself again, but really, he’s starting to realize that lending a helping hand every once in a while can’t hurt. He hisses when a sharp edge from one of the many stacks of paper you possess cuts his finger.

That’s the last time he’ll ever help someone, he thinks bitterly.

“Not to your face.” You reply back, giving him a grin. He wants to take your smile and store it in a moving box and then keep that box underneath his desk and have it be one of his most prized possessions.

“Hm.” Then he tells you, “A student called me that.”

“To your face?” You look equal parts shocked, amused, and delighted. It’s a good look.

“No. RateMyProfessor.”

“Oh, I think I saw that one. They called you hot, right?” You’re busy packing up your sticker sheets and binders. Naoya wonders if he’s reading too hard into what you’re telling him.

“You’ve seen my reviews?”

“Of course I did. I looked you up on the Internet the day we became office roomies.” You throw this information out so nonchalantly that Naoya almost feels like he’s the weird one to have a reaction from it.

“You looked me up on the Internet?”

“Duh. Naoya, we live in a world where AI is writing essays for students. Of course, I would look you up online.”

“But why?” He presses you, latches on to the idea that there is a world where someone wants to look him up online and it’s not to find his home address so they can get revenge on him failing them.

“Because I wanted to know more about you, silly.”

It would be nice to be known. It’s already nice to have someone who wants to get to know you. Naoya Zenin does not settle in life, but he thinks he could settle for this and be content for the rest of his days.

Of course you would. He would say this, all snarky and egotistical, but he knows better. He won’t have an excuse to see your four times a week, won’t be cooped up in this office with you late in the night, won’t get to smell the remnants of your perfume when he’s up at the podium, lecturing his class. But there’s a chance that he could see you in different settings, too. Getting coffee together in between classes. Sitting next to each other during university-wide faculty meetings. Taking you out to dinner, because he’s reviewed your contract, and he’s not sure how you’re surviving financially.

“I would like that.” The words come out rushed, all jumbled and smushed together. He’s a grown man. He doesn’t blush. This is what he tells himself when he feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I would like for you to get to know me. And to learn more about you, too.” He swallows. Hard. “I sound stupid, I meant to—”

“It’s okay, Dr. Zenin.” You have the prettiest smile in the world. His dissertation should have been on that. “The fun part about learning is that you can still do it, even when you’re being stupid.”

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #fluff #drabble #one shot #college au

701 notes · View notes

mangowafflesss · 5 months

Text

HATRED FOR YOU | PART 4

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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Writer!Reader

Summary: You spend the day with Simon [Simon performing multiple book boyfriend activities]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 5]

{Tags: @dontyouworrydaddy @chrrybl0ss0m @skulfan1 @lialacleaf @ghosts-cyphera @delaynew @arminarlertssword @vynz0ne @the-faceless-bride @plk-18 @gluttonybiscuits @jinxxangel13 @redrumarsenic @redheaded-hobbit }

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Simon opened his metal mailbox with the key and grabbed the contents inside before locking it shut. He flicked through the letters quickly before his eyes lit up at the brown package in his hands. He doesn't bother waiting for the elevator to come and instead bolts it up the stairs, skipping a couple at a time till he reaches his floor.

He fumbles with his keys to his front door and eventually drops them on the floor, with a huff he bends down to pick them up and as he does he hears your door open.

“Oh, morning neighbour” he heard you say in a strange country accent. He peered at you over his shoulder to acknowledge your presence and stopped when he saw you dressed like you’re about to fight off the biggest breeze in history.

Turning around fully he cocks his head to the side as he takes in your appearance, a massive scarf is wrapped around your neck almost covering your mouth and a matching hat sits upon your head. A woolly, knee length coat swallows you and he watches as you pat your pockets with an annoyed huff.

“It's not that cold today” he states and you stop your pocket tapping before returning your attention to him. “It says it's going to snow today. Can't be too careful with the weather” true, but also Simon can’t remember a time when it had ever been that cold when living here, but he doesn't know what people feel.

You unlock your front door with slight annoyance before picking up your gloves you left inside and place them safely in your pocket while you lock the door back up again. When you return back onto the landing you notice Simon is still standing where you left him, your gaze lands on the brown package nestled under his armpit and you nod your head towards it.

“What've you got in there?” you ask while pulling on your gloves. He lifts it from under his arm and waves it “A book” you hum softly and see the faint sticker that has your publishing logo printed on it peeking through a gap in his fingers. “I hope you enjoy it” you take a step towards the doors of the elevators and hear Simon move behind you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, curious as to where you’re about to spend your day. “Why? You want to come with me?” you joke but he doesn't say anything so you clear your throat in the awkward silence. “I was going to go for a walk, clear my mind then perhaps stop by that new bookstore in town” he looks into the air as if he's picturing where the bookstore you’re talking about is and simply nods.

When he turns to his door, you move forwards towards him and as he gets through his door you catch his attention. “You could come with me, if you aren't busy. I could always use a second opinion when buying books” you smile and point towards the one still locked in his grip.

Please say yes, please, please, pleaseeee don't leave me here looking like an idiot (again).

“I'll come”

“Perfect”

You wait as he rummages through his apartment before coming back out with a jacket to put over his hoodie. You raise an eyebrow at him as you both walk towards the elevator doors, he presses the button and as you wait you speak “I thought you said it wasn't that cold?” you gesture to his jacket and he shrugs before answering “Maybe you might need it, I’m very considerate” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

He walks into the elevator and you follow closely behind. On the ride down it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence as it usually is when you’re with other people who live in the building.

The doors woosh open and you both walk towards the front door of the building. He pulled open the door and held it so you could walk through first. Saying a quick thanks, you go out into the street and wait for him to join you, it doesn't take him long due to his big strides.

You walk side by side down the street, cars drive past while birds fly over your heads with a small tweet. It was peaceful at this time of day and you loved it. There was a small breeze and the further you walked you realised that maybe you were being a little over dramatic with the accessories.

Not wanting to show he was right, you continue with the small conversation you were having while you walked through the town you lived in.

“So what you’re telling me is, you can’t tell me what you do but all I need to know is that it's dangerous?” you say slowly, trying to put his previous words together in your head. He hums softly and you look up at him with questioning eyes.

“Is this why I don’t see you very often?” he hums again and you scoff “You're a man of many words aren't you” another hum comes from mouth and you groan in fake annoyance.

“Well alright, I’m not telling you about my super dangerous job either” you say with a smirk on your face as you turn the corner to your favourite place.

You walk through the door with a smile on your face as you hear the very same jingle you always do. The overpowering smell of everything sweet just hits you and you turn to Simon who is looking at his surroundings.

“I know what you’re probably thinking… ‘What are we doing here? This is not part of the plan’ well Mr I don’t take shortbread from strangers, we’re here to get the very thing you’ve yet to try in my presence” you point to the display cabinet and smile brightly at the options.

“You really want me to try it don’t you?” You nod slowly with the same, slightly creepy, smile on your face. He sighs softly and gestures for you to move towards the counter that you’re not paying attention to.

When you turn around after the customers in front of you leave your body lights up. “Rocco! Your finest shortbread my good sir!” You pat the marble top and the man behind rolls his eyes “You’re very energetic this morning, does it have anything to do with the fella you walked in with” he points at you and then at Simon with metal tongs and you shake your head immediately.

“We’re neighbours” you say simultaneously and briefly glance at one another. Rocco puts his hands up in a defensive stance before returning to his task. “I wanted him to try your shortbread, he refused last time so I’m determined to shove it down his throat” you smile sweetly up at your neighbour who just playfully shoves your knee with his.

“Well, I hope he enjoys” Rocco pushes the bag Simon’s way and as you hand the money to the shop worker he shakes his head “You know everything’s on the house for you. Have a good day” you scoff before shoving the money into the tip jar like you always do and follow Simon outside.

Not even two seconds out of the door and you bounce on your heels and practically jump at the man next to you. “Try some!” You urge and watch him pull out a piece and put it in his mouth. You watch him intensely and see the change in his expression when he swallows the sweet treat.

“So…”

“It’s good”

“Just good?”

He hums and you punch him in the arm “You’re playing with me! Tell me how you really feel” you wait for him to answer you and as you do, you reach into the bag but before you get near it he holds it close to his chest “I thought these were for me?” He teases and you glare at him. “I hate you”

“Fine. They’re great, the best I’ve ever had” he admits in a rather unenthusiastic way but it’s probably the only answer you’ll get. “I knew you would”

The rest of the walk went well, you chatted about random subjects while spotting things in your environment. You both snacked on some shortbread and Simon broke the last piece in half to share so you’ll have ‘equal pieces’ even though you’re sure you had one extra than he did.

When you arrive at the new bookstore you’re blown away at the size of it.

“It has three floors?!” You pull on Simon’s sleeve as you look up at the other floors above. He follows your movements and takes a look at the sheer size of the place.

You browse through the many rows of books and skim through different pages of certain ones you’re thinking about getting, you ask Simon for his opinion and he says some very good points. Sometimes.

“It’s just another romance” he states and you look at him with a deadpan look.

“And?”

“You have three already, don’t you like any other genres?”

“Don’t you like romance?”

“Do I look like I read romance” he points to himself and you take a chance to look at him from head to toe very slowly while humming to yourself as if you’re thinking.

You already know the answer which is very amusing.

“I think you enjoy a good old romcom” you say while turning back to the shelf in front of you and reading the blurb of a book. You add it to your pile in your arms and leave him standing in the romance section to be with his thoughts.

You walk past a sign of worldwide best sellers and see yours at the top of the pile in all its glory.

“Have you ever read their books?” A voice says behind you and you nearly drop all the books in your arms. Swirling around you see Simon standing there with his hands in his pockets while reading the sign of best sellers.

Have you ever read their books? Yes, In fact I wrote them but no one knows it’s me because I’ve hidden my identity the entire time except from a select few.

“No, are they good?” You try to act normal but you’re most definitely not acting normal right now. Is it really hot in here all of a sudden?

“I love them. Mystery’s are my favourite” he answers and you point to a sign saying romance below the sign “oh yeah? And what does that say?”

“There’s a small amount of romance, it’s not entirely romantic”

“Mmhmm, okay lover boy. It’s okay to admit you like something you know” you laugh and he stands there with his arms over his chest like a toddler.

“C’mon lover boy! We’ve got another floor to explore” you shout over your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs leading to the higher level.

You move around the last floor with excitement, this is the darkest level. Low lights to match the content of the ink in the pages all around you. You readjust your grip on the books in your arm, which were getting heavy, and look in awe at the books around you.

The covers were decorated beautifully, the ends of pages were sometimes covered by the most beautiful colour of gold or red you’ve ever seen.

You bend down to pick a book off the bottom shelf and as you do so a book falls off your pile you created in your arm.

When you go to pick it up you’re already beat to it. “Pass them here” he reaches for the books in your arms and you don’t have a chance to do anything as he takes the pile from you.

“It’s okay, you don’t have-”

“Go pick whatever you want” he nods his head to the shelf and you give him one last look before piling more books into his arms.

You leave the bookstore with a bag full of new reads to put on your new shelf. Simon got one book which you paid for after a small fight in front of the cashier.

You both walk back to your apartment building, Simon holding the bag of books as if they don’t weigh a ton.

It was silent for a while until Simon decided to talk first. “How do you know Rocco?” He asks and you take in a deep breath before releasing it into the now frigid air.

“I was new to town. I was exploring and saw the bakery with only a few customers inside, I didn’t go in straight away. I waited a couple of weeks before I actually ventured inside and when I did it was amazing. He helped me when I couldn’t and I feel as if I owe him everything” you speak fondly of the man as you zone out of reality for a second.

“He seems like a nice bloke”

“Very. His wife, Steph, is lovely too. Sometimes I feel as if they’re my second parents” you laugh softly at memories of them in your head but they fade away as you feel something touch your nose.

Stopping for a second, you scan your surroundings and see small flecks of white fall softly in your vision.

“Oh my god! I was right! It’s snowing” you turn to Simon and see some of the snowflakes settling into his hair. His nose and cheeks are a little pink due to the temperature drop and you take in the scene for a second before carrying on your walk.

As you arrive at your building, you open the door this time and let Simon enter first. He dips his head to you and shakes his head to let the excess water weighing down his hair out. You let out a squeal and shove at him to move him.

“Hey! That’s not fair” you wipe the water from your face with a scowl but stop when you notice how adorable he looks right now. Messy hair, cold bitten face and a cheeky smile on his face.

Before you do something stupid you take off towards the elevator and press the button. He arrives next to you a moment later and you both wait before getting inside and riding up to your floor.

You silently tap your finger against your bag before hearing the familiar ding and the doors opening.

You both get out and you walk towards your door before hearing him clear his throat behind you. Turning around you see him holding up the bag of books into the air as if you had forgotten about them, his book already in his other hand.

Taking a step towards him you grab the handles and when you do you feel the coldness of his hands. “Your hands are so cold!”

“It is snowing outside”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t hide the smile on your face and retreat to your front door. “Thank you for the fun day”

“It’s my pleasure” he says before unlocking his door and disappearing inside, you do the same and get to work putting your new buys away.

Simon enters his apartment and spots the brown package still waiting for him on the table in his living room. Abandoning the new book he you bought, he goes straight for that and rips it open, eager to get inside.

The silvery cover shines brightly in his eyes and a small smile breaks out onto his face. Carefully opening the cover he’s met with something special.

To Simon,

Thank you for your support of loving Hatred for You! I hope you enjoy your special edition copy.

Lots of love, Y. N. ♡

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader

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ribbonstrawberrysurprise · 6 months

Text

TMM Character Bios over All Versions

At long last, my collection of TMM bios, both transcribed and translated.

Sorted by source here. Sorted by person here. Collection of pictures of chara bio stickers, mostly from (expired) auction/sale listings online here.

List of sources:

Manga-related:

Manga character info page: that page that appears at the beginning of each volume of the manga. Very short. Does not change over time (with one exception), so sometimes it doesn't highlight the character's main personality trait…

Manga character info page (a La Mode): Same as above, but for a La Mode. Only appears in volume 2. (Note: Re-Turn does not have one of these)

A La Mode Intro Boxes: the little character bio charts that Berry and Tasuku get in A La Mode chapter 1

PS game manual: manual from the PS game. Contains the most direct ages for all characters and the only info on game-exclusive characters.

2002 Anime-related:

Profile stickers: square stickers with a picture of the girl on the front and a little chart of character info on the back. Comes in 2 distinct styles: One with a headshot of the character inside a heart on the front and the back printed in the character's theme color, and the other with a sparkly full-body shot + closeup of their head on the front and the back printed in red/hot pink.

2002 Anime Fanbook: artbook/fan guide for the original anime. Character pages have 2 taglines, a short bio, and a chart containing information similar to the stickers. Not well edited, so there's some inconsistent formatting/punctuation.

2002 Anime Insert from the TMM New Artbook: small section on the original anime within the New season 1 artbook. Character pages have a tagline, a short bio, and a chart containing information almost identical to the 2002 fanbook. The text for the bios are similar to the 2002 fanbook, but with more kanji and some editing for consistent style.

TMM New-related:

TMM New website character page: page on the official TMM site that has designs, birthdays, and short bios for all major characters. The one source that lists Seiji as a major character.

TMM New season 1 artbook: artbook with background information on season 1 of New. Only contains info on what appears in season 1, but the 2002 insert has spoilers for that whole series. Character pages have a tagline and a short bio which is very similar but not identical to the bio from the website.

If you want to see some of my thoughts on the info here + interesting changes/differences I noticed, that's below the cut!

It's obvious the original anime was aimed at kids and the new one is aimed at adults because sources related to the original manga and anime use lots of kana instead of kanji and have furigana on all kanji they do use. New-related sources use way more kanji and have no furigana.

Possibly related to this, older TMM stuff tends to use ミュウプロジェクト (Mew Project) vs New, which uses 「μ」プロジェクト (μ Project).

The original TMM fanbook has spotty editing which is especially visible in the charts. There's lots of small inconsistencies, like some words being spelled slightly differently (e.g., らっきょ instead of らっきょう for Pudding's least favorite food) and punctuation being inconsistent between the girls (e.g., items in lists being separated by interpuncts ・ except for Pudding's special skills, where it's inexplicably a comma 、). The biggest, most glaring issue is actually with a section I'll be posting slightly later, but I'll go ahead and list it here too: out of all official sources, the TMM Fanbook is the ONLY one who lists the Mew Mews' attacks as begining with リボン (ribon) instead of リボーン (riboon). This would be conclusive evidence in the Ribbon/Reborn debate if I didn't have the suspicion it's just a typo no one double-checked…

The stickers are in a slightly weird place continuity-wise since they have anime art on the front but refer to some manga-only information on the girls (e.g., Pudding having a pet monkey).

Speaking of the monkey, apparently at the time the stickers were coming out, Mia Ikumi had yet to finalize Annin's name, since here the monkey is called Mapo (i.e., mapo tofu)

The sticker bios have some otherwise-unseen info on character backstories: specifically, we find out that Mint's dad is a CEO and her mom runs a school, Zakuro's father is a producer and her mother is a model, and that Keiichirou is an orphan taken in by the Shiroganes at age 14. Also, apparently Ryou lives in the room above the cafe and Keiichirou lives in the secret basement.

Keiichirou seems to get way more impressive intros as time goes on. The manga bio comically undersells him, calling him "a waiter", and the PS game book only calls out his cooking skills, although Masha's bio drops the bomb that Keiichirou's the one who built him for Ryou. The 2002 fanbook mostly makes a point of how considerate he is, in contrast to the 2002 insert in the New artbook, where he's explicitly referred to as a researcher on cryptids/UMA. The New bios on the website and artbook go one step further and call him a "leading" researcher in the field!

Moe and Miwa's personalities seem to have changed or even reversed between the OG anime and New. Originally both Moe and Miwa are mostly defined by how they react to Ichigo. I.e., Ichigo says/does something weird (usually related to Mew Mew stuff or Aoyama), then Moe calls her out and Miwa either plays peacemaker or ends up joining in with Moe. So Moe snarky, Miwa gentler. New attempts to give them goals/personalities outside of this, so Moe becomes a "soothing" person with an interest in psychology and Miwa becomes a practical aspiring writer. I can only assume the writer thing is based on her writing Keiichirou a poem in the one episode where she and Moe get crushes on him and Shirogane, but I have no idea where Moe's career goal came from, much less how she became the "nice" one… I have to assume it's from her cutesy name??? Or maybe they thought that the one with blond curls looked "nicer/gentler" than the brunette with very short hair??? Weird.

The girls + Masaya (and Seiji, who is now in college so that he remains an older brother!) are aged up for New, but Ryou still seems to be the same age, which kind of makes the whole situation much funnier. Ichigo already had zero respect when he was slightly older, but now he's basically just one of her classmates. …of course, there's still room for him to be 16-17 instead of 15…

Sidenote: Ryou is consistently referred to as shonen/boy, which strikes me as funny despite making sense for his age. The narrator also doesn't respect him. Keiichirou gets seinen/young man, which trends a little older.

Ichigo gets referred to as ドジ (doji) in the '02 Fanbook which made me double-take since I'd usually associate it much more with Lettuce… I'd usually translate it to "clumsy", but in this case it's clearly going more for ditsy, flighty, disorganized, etc. so I went with "scatter-brained". The New bios do call Lettuceドジ, and I just used clumsy there.

Buling knowing kenpo/martial arts sure shows up more than I expected considering how little relevance it has to the actual show…

Zakuro, at least in the '02 anime, is supposed to be good with computers apparently! It shows up in her Fanbook bio as well as in one of the stickers (hobby: the internet). The internet being framed as a cool and mysterious thing for a smart character to know feels very 90s to early oughts, so maybe that's why it got dropped from her New characterization once everyone has smart phones… Saying someone's hobby is "the internet" reads more as neet or maybe influencer nowadays, as opposed to Cool Hacker or whatever. But I guess you could argue this is precedent for he inexplicable technological/manufacturing skills when she helps Minto make the prototype windmill thing?

In the stickers, there's a split between the Mew Mews favorite foods vs favorite sweet, but later on the sweets get lumped into favorite foods, which is how it's listed in the Fanbook and '02 Insert. But this does obscure the fact that Lettuce is the only one of them who just straight out has sweets as her favorite foods (shortcake, crepe cake), probably related to the fact that "cooking" and "making sweets" are listed as her special skills. 煮物/nimono (boiled or stewed food) is only added to her list of favorites in the Fanbook.

Weird that we never see Tasuku and Buling interact since he's explicitly compared to a monkey lmao.

#Tokyo Mew Mew #Tokyo Mew Mew a La Mode #Tokyo Mew Mew New #Ichigo Momomiya #Minto Aizawa #Retasu Midorikawa #Buling Huang #Zakuro Fujiwara #Ryou Shirogane #Keiichirou Akasaka #Masaya Aoyama #Translation #Meta #sort of

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heich0e · 1 year

Note

pleaseee can we get some nai college head cannons!

this is not headcanons my apologies

part of the trigun college!au (nai/f!reader)

You hear the jingle of keys against the marble countertop down the hallway. The thump of a backpack hitting the floor. The swish of plastic bags. The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to you.

“Hey, I picked up takeout from—“

Nai turns the corner into Vash’s bedroom, one hand curling around the doorframe as his tousled, white-blonde hair comes into view.

“Oh.”

You watch every trace of softness in his face harden. Harsh lines and ice overtaking the momentary glimpse of warmth you’d caught in his expression.

“Hi!” You wave from your place in Vash’s bed. You have a cozy blanket wrapped around you and your laptop resting in the cradle of your crossed legs. Your essay sits neglected on the screen, forgotten now even in spite of the looming deadline, your eyes glued instead to the boy hovering in his brother’s doorway.

“Where’s Vash?”

Nai has a tone that makes people flinch. You’ve seen it happen countless times with your very eyes—on campus, at the convenience store around the corner from he and Vash’s apartment, even at the rare party he frequents. But no matter how terse his words might be, you never do.

“He accidentally stole Nicholas’ laptop charger when we were on campus earlier, he just ran over to bring it back before Nico’s night class.”

At the mere mention of the brunette, Knives’ expression turns even more severe; his upper lip curls in visible disgust.

“He’ll be right back,” you add, smiling softly.

Why are you smiling?

Nai spins on his heel to slink away, but you stop him.

“Did you say you got takeout?”

“I got my brother and I dinner,” he makes sure to emphasize who the meal was meant for, though he doesn’t spare you a glance over his shoulder.

You laugh into your fist as he slinks away back towards the kitchen, and you hear him clunking around huffily as you return your attention to your assignment.

You reach for your cellphone after rewording a sentence that really doesn’t matter instead of adding another one that does, pulling up your text conversation with the boy whose bed you’re sitting in.

(6:15pm) Nai’s home! Hurry back or he’ll kick me out again plssss

As soon as you hit send, you hear a suspicious jingling from somewhere in the room. It’s too conveniently timed to be a coincidence. You slip your laptop off your lap, pushing it to the side, and lean your body over the edge of the bed to peer down at where you’d heard the sound coming from. Lo and behold, Vash’s cellphone is resting on the ground next to his bedside table. It had probably fallen off the bed while the two of you had been toiling away at your respective school work, just before he made a mad dash to campus when he realized he’d accidentally come home with two laptop chargers instead of one—and gotten a strongly worded text message from the other charger’s owner (who’d obviously just come to the same conclusion.)

You sigh, plucking Vash’s phone up from the ground. He’s constantly losing the thing, or cracking the screen, which is a little ridiculous considering the brightly-coloured case he has it wrapped in—cute little cartoon characters are printed onto the red plastic, and he’s added various stickers (and scratches) to accompany them. You’re laughing a little at the design when the phone jingles again.

6:16PM - New Message (1) Nai: Hi. That girl is here again

6:16PM - New Message (2) Nai: She’s in your bedroom

6:16PM - New Message (3) Nai: When are you coming back? Where are you? If you (…)

You snort to yourself as message after message pops up on the screen, the latter part of the last one lost to the cut of the notification preview. You know Vash’s passcode, but you also know it’s not your place to see what his brother is texting him—not that the younger sibling would care.

But you suspect someone else might.

You pad out to the kitchen, Vash’s phone clutched in your hand.

Nai is standing in the kitchen in front of a mountain of takeout containers. They’re from a fancy restaurant uptown you know he likes, because Vash had mentioned it on a few occasions. Nai tends to have more… particular tastes than his little brother, who you’re fairly certain would be happy to eat out of a convenience store for the rest of his natural life.

The elder twin hears you come in and glowers at you at you hover in front of the island in the open concept kitchen, the expanse of marble separating you.

“He forgot his phone,” you say, holding up the device in front of you demonstratively.

Nai’s brow creases, his lips tugging down at the corners in an even deeper frown than before. You watch as he lifts his hand to rub at his temple in frustration.

Knives hates it when Vash doesn’t have his phone. Or forgets to charge it. Or loses it. Or cracks the screen. Or does anything that impedes him from getting in touch with him.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you assure the elder of the two brothers, setting the phone down on the countertop. “He left a while ago and he was coming right home.”

The phone is snatched up from the counter almost as soon as your hand has pulled away from it, and Nai shoves it into the pocket of his joggers. You watch as he reaches for his keys next.

“Are you going to find him?” you ask, and Nai ignores you, tugging his jacket on.

“If you leave now, you’ll probably just end up missing each other. He’s probably already in the elevator!” you call to the blonde’s retreating form as he stalks towards the front door angrily.

“It’s not even dark out, and campus is only 10 minutes away.”

He stuffs his feet harshly into his sneakers, though he’s careful not to crease the backs.

You glance around furtively, looking for another excuse to keep him from needlessly going chasing after Vash.

“Hey, if you go, do you mind if I have some of this?”

Nai whips around just in time to see you leaning over the counter to slip a finger under the edge of one of the takeout container lids to peek inside. He crosses the apartment towards you in three long strides, leaning over and snatching the box out from under your hand with a sneer.

“Was that steak?” you ask, eyes wide and sparkling, your hands clasped in front of your heart.

“None of your business,” he snaps.

It is steak. Wagyu. Cooked to a perfect medium rare.

Just the way he likes it.

He opens his mouth to snap at you again, probably about touching things that don’t belong to you, or getting the hell out of his apartment, when the front door swings open.

“Honey I’m hoooooooo—”

Vash spots Knives sneering down at you on the other side of the apartment, craning over where you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, faltering to a stop. The fist-full of heavy convenience store bags he has clutched in his hands rustle as the swing in his grip.

“Oh, hi Nai! You’re home early!” Vash smiles when he sees his brother, his eyes crinkling at the corners behind the round lenses of his glasses. He kicks his tattered boots off clumsily in the doorway before approaching you both. “I got us dinner! There’s lots, so we can all share!”

You see a twitch of irritation in his older brother’s jaw. Nai takes a step back from you.

“You left the house without your cellphone again.”

Vash’s eyes widen in the wake of his brother’s words. He uses his free hand to pat along his pockets, and then winces sheepishly when he realizes his mistake. “Sorry, sorry! Had to run to campus, and I must have left it—”

Nai reaches into his pocket and retrieves the device, holding it out to his little brother.

“What’s the point of a mobile phone if it stays in one place?” Nai mutters sullenly.

Vash takes it appreciatively, tucking it into his own pocket. Then he spots the containers on the counter.

“Woah, what’s all this?” he asks excitedly, craning up onto his tiptoes to peek around his brother’s shoulder at the food on the counter behind him. “Did you pick up food too?”

“My meeting with the department chair was shorter than I expected, so I thought it would be nice to eat together. I didn’t realize we’d have company.” Nai’s gaze flickers resentfully to you from the corner of his eye.

“Well, there’s so much food here now, it’s a good thing there’s three of us!” Vash chirps happily, turning to you. “You’ll stay, right?”

Your friend’s face is alight with expectation.

Behind him, Nai is scowling.

You smile brightly.

“Of course!”

#trigun college!au #nai x reader #knives millions x reader #trigun drabble #trigun writing #writing #liv got mail

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seedsofwinter · 1 year

Text

I have 5 boxes of Good Omens zines and merch in my house and I should NOT by the end of the summer. Did you miss these the first time around? Come talk to me!

🎶 “Don't cha wish your bookshelf was hawt like mine? Don't cha?” 🎶

Over 2 years, with a group of friends and fellow fans, I worked on 6 Good Omens print zines (plus another 7 or 8 digital only?) I wrote and was the editor for ones with stories; I did marketing for all of them. I know these books too well, their rising emotions, their jokes, the sexy bits...

Now, I’m the one who has all the physical overstock. Which accumulates..... Oh, does it accumulate haha

I’ve spent the past few days preparing to let you know what is in these boxes.

So!

Fellow Good Omens fans, drop me a line. I have all the books in the 2nd picture and they could be yours instead. I also have various merch which will need homes. Some more pics of those and books below!

This @oursidezines Pride 2022 book could be yours! I have most of the pride flag postcards too. Out of and low on a few.

This @WingZine could be yours! I have all postcards to join it as well. And a spare few bookmarks and stickers.

This @ineffableeraszine vol 3: Bookshop 1800s could be yours! I have the postcards that go with it; and a tidy number of bookmarks, the Aziraphale sticker, and the Crowley sticker. Plus the lanyard with PVC card.

This @IneffableEras vol 2: Soho 1967 could be yours!

I have the postcards that go with it, a handful of the “You Go Too Fast For Me” Crowley and Aziraphale charm, and a few pages of stickers. Plus the lanyard with PVC card.

Here's what the lanyards and PVC cards look like, so you can know! For other merch, come talk to me. 1800s' card is half an inch slimmer than 1941 and 1967.

All have an about 16 inch lanyard with "Ineffable Eras” printed in an Era-unique font. All with lobster clasp style hook.

I have a hold on all my remaining @IneffableEras vol 1: Blitz 1941 (if someone decides not to get it, or after held copies reach their destination). These were from my personal stash, so there were not many.

If you’d like to roll the dice I can take your name, but it's a long shot. Those who have a hold on a copy know it’s their last chance to get one.

I HAVE postcards, a few stickers, the Aziraphale charm and the Crowley charm, and the above lanyard.

THE EASIEST WAY TO REACH ME is twitter: https://twitter.com/OlivierHennis.

But you can message me here. I’m doing this all myself, so just give me a little time. I haven’t slept in almost 24 hours bc I hyperfixated on taking stock and doing the pictures. XD So I’m gonna go do that. [11:30am EST, May 10, 2023.]

I’ll make updates on this post if/when zines or merch are fully gone!

Thanks! And HAPPY GOOD OMENS 33RD ANNIVERSARY!

#good omens #good omens 33 #ineffable may 10 #ineffable may #crowley #aziraphale #good omens zine

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stimming-purple-owl · 7 months

Text

[Og post made sept 7, 2023 on Twitter]

Hobie headcanons cause exactly no one asked

Tw for 16-18 for mild gore and violence

Thread is over 20+parts so uh have fun and a pt. 2 will be there soon and yea these r all over the place

Og post from twt

Shhh tots not the reason I'm doing this💥💥

[Tfw ur body is deciding to break down so now all ur kins must have hcs that match]

1💥This one is like 50% stolen from @/nurtleteckye. he has tourettes/tics/twitches in general. His physical ones cause no harm to him.

2💥He lacks spatial awareness, and is totally(/hj) why he smacked into that bus during the rescue in mumbhatten

3💥 Hc that hobie that that one wick that straight up doesn't act right n he always hugs the wall so no one can't see it lmao

4⚡️his nostril piercings (as in he has both nostrils pierced incorrectly) cover the lines on his nose

5⚡️expanding on that, he does all his piercings himself, and does have a belly piercing. Some are incorrectly angled but that's only because he was going kinda slow when doing them.

6⚡️he changes color/ texture when you tap him, and can glow like a nightlight if he tries hard enough

7🎸stolen from @/circusmantis, he unknowingly displays his thoughts/feelings as text print on his body.

8🎸in the shots where he jumps off the building and does a flip, the first few times with his boots he would actually clip the building, and scuff the actual shit out of them. He still does from time to time

9🎸 he names every single one of his guitars and musical equipment, the red one in the movie is his MJ (maryjane) and his amp for concerts is also named MJ (Micheal jackson) (he thought it was cool they were matching)

10🏁his vest actually belongs to one of his older siblings, its one of the few things they left around before they all kinda grew apart

11🏁along w/ the vest, his first guitar (he keeps it in his boot somewhere no one can get it) , red boots that were originally white, and an old wisdom loc from his parents are all in his collection, they're in a trunk he lies about to others that's full of "extra band equipment"

12🏁and he hates lying, never does unless its something personal he doesn't wanna share.

13🧷the callus on his hands aren't fromt guitar playing, but actually from how much he'd hurt himself while creating his vest

14🧷has more than 1 vest n pants, and actually has jackets (cant wear them anymore so he lets his friends have them after taking certain things off)

15🧷 spends long periods of time as nonverbal, communicating through his guitar if he truly needs to (knocking,banging, string plucking, etc) [ he'd point at specfic stickers to answer questions]

Props for getting this far down‼️‼️

16‼️ tw// violence, gore for the next 3/ going forward

the first time he hit someone other than osborne over the head with his guitar, he learned to not actually aim for the head cause its deadly/paralyzing. And instead aims for the torso or legs with MUCH less strength

17‼️he doesnt often hit with his guitar, but there are spikes on the underside of the body to actually crush skulls if he needs to

18‼️one time he forgot he had a healing factor, so when he saw his bone once after breaking it BAD he actually lost it for a while (it healed in like a week and he was fine but best believe he started placing metal plates in his boots to reinforce them)

[Will update this as time goes instead of making a thousand posts to follow up]

#atsv hobie #punk #spider punk #spiderman atsv #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobart brown #headcanon #hcs

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netherworldpost · 6 months

Text

@cha0tician when I was Evil Supply Co., we had a newspaper for nearly two years.

Physically printed on large paper. It was part of a subscription box — Mister Ghost’s Highly Enviable Monthly Parcel of Simple Yet Amazing Wonderments

(Fun fact I came up with that name at a bar in one go and did not edit it — it was the pure first draft)

This was a 4 page (1 sheet of paper front/back) and folded into 11x14.

Subscription billing services add costs to the already base $0.30 + 2.9% processing of cards (fairly industry standard pricing), making inexpensive products affordable.

Two sheets of letter sized paper and a thin envelope is roughly one ounce, so a newspaper is probably 2 or even 4, driving up postage considerably.

Even printed black and white (instead of color) the pricing was difficult.

Newspaper ages quick (it’s very acidic) so back stock decays fairly rapidly…

…and this one trick (storing bundles of newspaper) is key to driving your studio-mates wild with passion for you!

The problem with having submissions is two fold — ensuring originality (vs stealth plagiarism) and having a clear focus on the stories.

My stories are very focused and narrow… it’s one of the reasons I change/am changing the name of the company.

A lot of people saw ESC and walked in the digital door looking for true crime and/or horror and got queer monster utopia and were disappointed. Which is fair with the name, and so in this second act I want to give a more straightforward “this is who we are and what we do.”

It’s all a really careful balance.

Going back to the pricing a moment — if the retail price is even as high as $5, after processing fees and postage, it’s maybe $0.50/issue profit into the coffers to keep the company going.

Miss one deadline (as a subscription your deadlines are right, and printing takes 1.5 - 3 weeks) and your customer numbers take huge hits.

Complicates the whole thing.

The last few Mister Ghost boxes ran late because of all the above, and timed with an industry decline of subscription boxes, hurt the whole company bad.

Advertising is… tricky. I would have to hire someone to exclusively work on ads.

The alternative I am working on is just having it as an occasional promotion.

That cuts out processing fees and taxes (it actually helps taxes as it’s a marketing deduction).

Just every once in awhile, on a non-specified time scale (alleviating all production deadline issues), printing a small run. “Okay the papers come in today, we have 200, so include them in the next 200 orders.”

It’s tricky (what isn’t!) because it’s not going to be “the next 200 orders get…!” because frantic ordering Creates Problems (I don’t want to tell #201 they should have been faster)

I keep coming back to the ideas of surprise and delight.

You won’t see a gnome every time you go to the forest — you won’t see them hardly ever — but once in awhile you will and then it becomes a truly magical day.

So once in awhile maybe you get a newspaper or a small painting or a foil sticker in your order, or you are a customer who hasn’t ordered for us and I say “hey rather than give Google more cash let’s take a month of ad budget and print glow in the dark stickers and send to people.”

(This is from my business ramble side blog)

I don’t know if “surprise and delight” will be effective marketing.

Maybe it is but it’s too expensive to keep up and it ends up folding the company entirely.

Maybe it’s wildly successful and we continue to survive to make the world weirder.

I want to be honest and open on any public domain research and development rambles that they easily could fail — have a significant chance of it. There are no guarantees, at all, that any of this will work.

It has to be said “the reason these things are not common is because the risk is, to put it mildly, extremely high.”

Without this honesty I am nothing more than a snake oil salesman peddling false hope about making the world a weirder and more fun place.

But what if it does work?

My risk tolerance in business is…

… significant.

This makes me fun to shop with but, hm, complicated, to invest in — which is why i don’t take investors, and when folks kindly offer to toss a few bucks to help us get going, I decline and ask them to shop at an artist store who they have always meant to buy something at but always forget.

I am uncomfortable enough with “we are going to launch.. someday!” — I cannot stand the thought of taking possession of someone’s money without clear lines of “you will get X by Y day.”

All of this is a massive, significant, frequently overwhelming risk.

But.

But!

If it does end up working?

It’s going to be magnificent.

I work on this company because doing this work makes me more “me” than if I didn’t. It’s part of my fabric.

These public domain research and development posts (and future blog versions which can go into more detail) are my way of (hopefully) giving back.

I can’t make a subscription newspaper work but maybe someone else can and then I get to subscribe to it and my world gets weirder because I can read it ;)

But

Whenever I go down these paths

I always want to be very careful and explicit:

Very few things are impossible

Most things are more difficult than they seem

I don’t have all the answers but I might be able to help start the conversations that get someone closer to them

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