#SO WHAT IF MAYBE WE DID A GOOD FEATURE COPY!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

garoujo · 11 months

Text

✩ ˛˚ . 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓔𝓣𝓔𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓞 𝓑𝓔 𝓐𝓢𝓛𝓔𝓔𝓟 𝓐𝓡𝓞𝓤𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓜 & 𝓨𝓞𝓤𝓡 𝓒𝓗𝓘𝓛𝓓𝓡𝓔𝓝 feat. JUJUTSU KAISEN!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento & geto suguru!

warnings! sfw, dad!au, all characters written age 22+, f!reader (they’re referred to as ‘mommy’) ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! guys i literally found these hcs written & finished at the very bottom of my drafts so i’m posting idc, theyre v old & short so they may suck but pls accept my love!

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

you hear him gossiping to your daughter who’s only a toddler when they return home, hearing her gasp dramatically at his words as they get closer. “sweet thi— oh?” gojo cuts himself off, followed by a few seconds of silence before you hear him whisper “hm, looks like mommy’s all tired out, princess. maybe we should just forget movie night and eat dessert before dinner.”

his words are goading and you try to hide the pout on your lips when they’re followed by a few of his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, like he’s trying to size you up for a reaction — looking for it as he pays careful attention to your features like he doesn’t have ever inch of you mapped out by memory.

it seems like an instant before they’re by the side of the couch, crouching down slightly to place a gentle kiss to your cheek, soft despite the way his lips linger on the skin as they move against you — enough for you to be able to feel the signature smirk you can only assume paints his pretty features right.

“really, sweet girl? i thought you knew me better than to pretend to be asleep.” gojo drawls and you almost jolt when he whips the blanket off of you with a gasp. “awake? all this time? princess i just don’t think they wanted to watch movies with us.” his tone laced with teasing as his lips curl into a smug grin — while you watch him turn to your daughter with a hand on his hip, yes you’re roped into it, not that you’re complaining.

✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI

you hear their shared footsteps running up the hall as you quickly pull the blanket over your body, closing your eyes just as they burst through the door, closely followed by a gasp from your husband before you hear your son copy him — you always found it charming the way he truly seen him as his idol.

“oh no, mommy’s asleep so we gotta be quiet okay?” yuuji whisper shouts, a smaller voice piping up after with a just as excitable “bu’ you said we should never sleep with no goodnigh’ kiss.” your son tries to whisper back and you want to laugh at how loud they’re both talking while also trying to be quiet.

“you’re right! good job remembering!” you’re trying your best to bite back the smile you can feel twitch at your lips — the interaction making you feel warm in the best sort of way, but you hear them both begin to approach you before there’s a suspicious silence and you wonder if you’ve been caught.

“okay you go first then i’ll go!” you finally hear your husband say and you want to smile when you feel your sons lips press against your cheek before he pulls away again, whispering as he does “goodnigh’ mommy” followed by yuuji’s shortly after with a “goodnight baby.” hearing them leave after with a very quiet high five “wanna play a game now?”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

you hear your husband’s chuckle as he returns home from picking up your daughter from school, your daughter rambling about what she learned before they enter the living room, noticing you asleep on the couch before nanami shushes her gently.

“how about you tell me all about it in the kitchen, princess? let’s let your mom rest.” he grumbles and it’s silent for a moment until you hear a cabinet close, feeling the familiar touch of your husbands lips on your skin when he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“sleep well, sweetheart.” nanami breathes, calloused thumb smoothing over your cheek soothingly incase he woke you, but allowing your daughter to kiss the same place he did before she’s copying her dads movements and tracing over the same spot with her smaller hand.

“that’s it, good job, princess. you want to help daddy make them some tea?” he grumbles, followed by a whispered “yes” before they move quietly to the kitchen.

✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

it’s quiet when you hear megumi and your daughter return home from school, her smaller hand still wrapped in his bigger one as he carries her pink bag pack over his shoulder with a pout on his lips (he knows he spoils her).

but as soon as they meet your figure draped so dreamily on the couch, pretending to be asleep — all sound dies down before you’re only met with light shuffling, the noise accompanied by the feeling of a soft blanket being draped over you a few moments later.

“like this.” megumi whispers, tucking it underneath you gently, he’s being careful not to wake you and you can’t deny the way it makes your heart swell. but not as much as it does when you feel the same movements on the other side — except by a smaller pair of hands this time and you can almost imagine the soft, proud smile on his face with the little. “is mommy warm now?”

your daughter tries to whisper, the sound comes out a little louder than intended, but you don’t mind when you hear your husband huff out a laugh after. “almost.” megumi hums, silence following his words before you feel him rest his lips along your forehead a few moments later with a soft breath. “there, perfect.”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU

you hear the gentle of hum of geto’s soft laugh as he returns home with your daughter after the school run, both of their shared footsteps shuffling down the hallway as you work to quickly make yourself look comfortable on the couch. you lie back, pulling the blankets up to your chin just a few moments before their careful steps stop in the doorway, followed by a gentle shhh from your dark haired boyfriend as you hear them both fall silent.

“is mommy sleeping?” your daughter asks before it’s followed by a set of heavy steps—confirming that’s it’s exactly who you think it is when you sense his presence squat down at the side of the couch as his dark eyes probably settle on your features.

“seems that way.” geto grunts and you give it a few moments, hoping he hasn’t picked up on your little act before you feel his fingertips brush along your cheek, followed by a sigh before he’s falling into his place beside you softly. he moves you carefully until you’re pressed in his lap and you feel his other arm raise as your daughter asks “what’re you doing?” despite the way she approaches anyway.

“hm? i think i should get to cuddle with my favourite girls. cmeer.” and you think maybe you should keep up your little act a while longer as you nuzzle yourself into his chest with a content sigh when his lips press softly against your temple. but then he speaks against your skin and you can’t help the way you have to bite back a grin. “you really think you can trick me, pretty girl? i thought you knew me better than that.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #geto x reader #geto fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #itadori x reader #itadori fluff #nanami x reader #nanami fluff

3K notes · View notes

lizard-on-a-window-pane · 3 days

Note

sunlight ☀️

hii it’s me againn. could you also do tasm peter who is nerdy and nerdy reader? and it’s kind of like a meet cute at the library? that’s literally my dream 😔 (you can tell i’m in my spiderman kick again)

-🎀

love a good spiderman kick ☺️ hope you like it!

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader word count: 1.4k tags: just fluff

The exam was next week, and Peter still hadn’t gotten a chance to so much as glance at the most helpful textbook. The only copy the library carried had been way over due for ages, and the damn things were way too expensive to buy. He hoped it would be back by today because the late fees would be so much worse after today’s cut off. So, into the library he strode to look for it for what felt like the millionth time.

He was sure the librarian remembered him, and which book he was after, after so many attempts, so he went straight up to the desk. Peter raised his eyebrows in question, in hope. He wrung his hands together as the librarian gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “So?” he finally couldn’t help.

“You just missed it,” the librarian deadpanned. How could she be so damn calm? She must know his life depended on getting his hands on this book! Well, maybe not his life, but definitely his grade… important enough.

“What?! And you didn’t hold it for me or something?” “Hold it for you? What do you think this is, kid? We don’t take reservations.”

After a moment, though, she sighed in slight defeat, something akin to pity entering her hardened features. She gave a sideways nod toward the person standing at the other end of the desk.

“Maybe she’ll share,” she whispered.

Peter followed her look. His eyes landed on a girl. She looked mortified. Given the books lying next to her open backpack on the desk, she’d clearly been packing them up. At the top of the pile lay the coveted textbook. And she’d clearly overheard his whole exchange with the librarian.

You lock your gaze onto the books in front of you. You could feel your cheeks warming, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally make eye contact with this stranger. This ridiculously attractive stranger you’d noticed in class before… Peter Parker… who had clearly had the same idea about the book being returned today…

You feel terrible at having snatched it up just before him. You hadn’t known someone else was after it, too, but you could’ve guessed, and it felt like pure luck that you got it first. You have no idea how to react, and before you can come up with any idea at all, you sense him stepping toward you and freeze in panic.

“Um, hey,” Peter whisper-says. God, why didn’t he just speak at a normal volume? He was in the library, sure, but just the entrance. He’s sure he sounded weird, and that’s the last thing he wanted after his little outburst clearly made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten the book before him.

Your eyes dart up to meet his at his words, and when they do, his nerves increase tenfold. Your eyes are so damn pretty. All of you is. And you look half way to an anxiety attack at his approach. “Hey, sorry,” he tries. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other, but I just… Um, well… Sorry about that,” he ends lamely, gesturing back to where his exchange with the librarian just occurred. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ears. You look back down at your hands, pulling at the too-long sleeves of your shirt.

Peter’s hand comes up to his head, messing with his hair in a typical nervous tick. He can’t stop staring at you, and you can’t stop avoiding his stare. He had to say something else before the mounting awkwardness blew up. Why couldn’t he think of anything? God, why was his heart racing faster than it ever did when he had to fight giant, scary monsters? Somehow you were scarier.

“Um,” he starts again. “You in, uh, you in Vidal’s biology class?” he ventures, guessing you need the book to study for the same exam as he. It blows his mind he hasn’t noticed you before if you are.

“Mmhmm,” you nod softly.

“Me too,” he says and cringes. “I don’t recognize you.” “Oh, I don’t know. I tend to sit in the back.” You finally look up at him as you say this. Your eyes meet, and it’s too much to handle. After what feels like an eternal instant, you both look away chuckling.

Peter’s just nodding like an idiot, chewing his bottom lip, reeling for something else to say but failing miserably. At this point, the thought of getting the book has totally vanished from his mind. The fear of failing next week has been completely replaced with the fear of failing right now. The idea of your walking away and his not getting to talk to you again makes his stomach sink.

You’re just staring at your hands, unsure what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. How do people just know what they’re supposed to do when other people are involved?

You still feel really bad that you got the book first, and you figure he’s only still talking to you to ask when you’ll be done with it. The exam is so soon, you hadn’t really been planning to return it till after. But keeping it to yourself when he needed it too made your stomach twist. You didn’t even know him, but you wanted to help him. So, you mustered the courage to do something you know, from experience, you otherwise wouldn’t do.

You say softly, “If you want… um, I don’t know… maybe, we could share it?”

“What?” he responds, too quickly, confused, his voice nervously airy.

You’re not sure if he didn’t hear what you said — possible with how softly you’re speaking — or didn’t understand what you meant, so you don’t know what to say. Words are too hard, so you just grab the book — your hands grateful for something to do — and hold it up to him like an offering.

“Oh!” he hiccups. Then, “Oh,” he says more quietly, chuckling lightly. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you. You got it first fair and square.” “Yeah,” you shrug. “But you need it, too, right?”

“Yeah…” His mind begins stirring up images of the two of you studying together… maybe laughing together eventually… sitting closer together to both get a good look at the book…

It’s making his heart beat faster, and he realizes he’d be an idiot to not seize the opportunity. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you, and he doesn’t even have to ask you out. Yet.

So, he quickly says, “Yeah, um, sharing would be great. If you don’t mind. I can just meet up with you whenever you were going to study anyway… Wherever is good for you; I don’t mind; you choose; whatever you prefer is good with me —” Having started, he can’t stop talking now, his nerves morphing into words, eager to leave his body.

You giggle at his garrulousness, and he knows he’s in trouble when the sound of it makes his breath hitch.

“Well,” you say. “I was planning to get started now… you know, since I’d been waiting to get my hands on the book. If you wanted to, um, maybe go to the café maybe?”

You hadn’t in fact been planning to start right away. If you were honest with yourself, you’d been planning to put it off till you couldn’t not… like you always did no matter how hard you tried to get an early start. Note to self: the only cure you’ve found to procrastination so far: ridiculously pretty boys with warm eyes and a voice you could listen to forever.

“Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be great,” he nods, smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully smile. You’d be happy to just hand him the book as long as you could watch him study, the exam be damned.

“Great,” you repeat, grabbing your things and turning toward the café. Your eyes widen in panicked disbelief at what just happened. You glance slightly back just to make sure you hadn’t imagined it, and sure enough: Peter Parker is taking a quick step to follow you. He falls in step with you as you walk, and it’s terrifying and invigorating just how much you like the feeling of him close beside you.

#peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter imagine #tasm! peter oneshot #tasm!peter fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #ria1k

160 notes · View notes

highlandwhackamole · 1 month

Text

A Grand(ish) Theory of What the Heck

I love the utterly unhinged, super detailed theories about what's going on in Good Omens, especially in season 2. I hope one or more of them turn out to be true, as some kind of glorious puzzle-box-hidden-code monstrosity. And also I think that there has to be a simpler explanation for things, for the people who are at least Somewhat Normal (tm) about this show. (... I assume such people do exist somewhere...) This is what I have been pondering recently.

The thing that started me thinking about this was this post, containing some promotional materials for season 2 that feature main characters with scenes in their heads. Like this:

Seeing this created a very similar situation in my own head, but with a nice shiny lightbulb.

All the weirdness: the car, the sideburns, the clock, the behavior of the folks of Soho, the vanishing storefront signs. The absence of God. I think this is all because everything we see is in their heads.

I don't mean it's made up. At least not entirely. Memory is already a plot point. Why not explore it on a deeper level? I've read theories emphasizing the minisodes' stories being retold by Aziraphale and Crowley. I think the whole season is like that.

You know that sort of conventional-wisdom-fact-concept that you can only dream faces of people you've seen before (or variations therein), because your brain can't make new faces up? So it just fills in what it thinks is close enough? I think that idea, applied to remembering or recollecting things, could explain so many things that are wonky in this show.

Wonky Things

Crowley parking in an impossible London location? He definitely remembers it was in London, so his brain just stuck some obvious London landmarks in there.

Awkward clattering happening when Crowley throws the stacks of books he's inexplicably carrying around the bookshop? He wouldn't actually throw Aziraphale's books! But he'd like to think he's cool and nonchalant enough to do that, and if he did it would definitely make Some Kind of Noise.

Jim walking toward the bookshop from somewhere mysterious? Maggie and Nina saw him first, and he came from that direction, so he must've walked all that way. They don't know about the elevator in the Donkey.

Aziraphale remembers tartan hills and the Loch Ness monster because he was having a jolly time driving through Scotland, so obviously the scenery must've been whimsical Scottish things.

Nina put the Honolulu roast sign up, so she remembers its presence, but perhaps the occult/ethereal visitors to her shop do not.

Maggie really did text Aziraphale about the rent, but a note through the mail slot is a much more dignified way for a scholarly angel to imagine he received a message.

On the Fallibility of Recall

This season is loaded with unrealistic inclusions. The colors are turned up to 11. Some of the scenes are more caricature than believable interaction. Remembering things never copies or reproduces them with what one might call high fidelity.

Scenes recalled by separate memories will inherently vary. One person's hefty jigger might be another person's dash. Who knows for sure where the sun was that day? You and I might recall an event having different lighting or a different color palette, sort of like viewing something with different lens filters.

According to Neil, Crowley is an unreliable narrator of the story of his Fall. He labels the variations in clock times as a continuity error in a show where Everything Is Meant, but he doesn't say whose continuity error it is. He insists that the Bentley is the same through the whole season; maybe it was the same, but remembered differently. Maybe this is part of why there's more CGI but it's harder to spot.

So What?

Is this all there is to it? I sure hope not. I like my Good Omens with enough layers to put to shame an onion wrapped in a cake and covered in a parfait.

Is this possibly the fancy footwork that's distracting from the real magic trick? I wouldn't put it past Our Gaiman. There are a lot of things one could hide in the narrative of unreliable memory.

Is this going to stop me from rewatching and repondering and remaking theories for the next couple years? Not even at gunpoint.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable mystery #neil gaiman #good omens questions #good omens 2

175 notes · View notes

starjaeyun · 10 months

Text

MINE : you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter !

— dating hanma shuji was the best reckless decision you have ever made

includes! hanma shuji x fem! reader

warnings! smoking, verbal abuse & mentions of it, mentions of a controlling father, toxic parent (father), use of pet names (baby doll)

note! speak now (tv) is out now‼️ i absolutely had to write this w/ hanma bc i remembered him n came up w/ this scenario while listening to mine (tv) 😞

being the daughter of one of the top lawyers in tokyo, you'd say your 'perfect' life was practically scripted. from your words, expressions, mannerism, everything! literally, every single thing you did had to be criticized and changed by your father. you had to be careful of everything you say or do as your father paraded you as his 'perfect daughter' when he didn't even treat you as his

you were the typical rich girl who had everything but love and freedom. clearly, your father cared more about his name than you, his daughter.

you've accepted long ago that this is how you were going to spend the rest of your life until your father's death and you were secretly wishing for his lifespan to shorten every time he insulted you for the slightest mistakes, sometimes you didn't even make a mistake he just thinks you're not perfect enough to be walking around and being called his daughter

naturally, it hurt you. but you've gotten used to it and have learned to ignore him

as much as you didn't want anything to do with him and his filthy money, he wouldn't allow you to move out as "it would not look good to the public for a lawyer like me to allow my daughter to move out and for all i know, you could just run around and throw dirt on my name" you could still vision the disgusted look on his face as he spat those venom laced words

though he was right, you did want to throw a little bit of dirt on his name. and what better way to do that than by dating a delinquent from shibuya?

"doesn't it scare you?" hanma asked as he gave you the cigarette in between his fingers and made himself feel at home, sitting on your bed with his back against the headboard and an arm slung around your shoulder

"what's there to be scared of?"

"maybe how your father is a top lawyer in tokyo and how a delinquent is climbing to your balcony every night since two months ago? doesn't it scare you how we could easily get caught? for all i know one of your neighbors could just spot me tryna climb the tree next to your window"

your eyes met his, a lazy smile painting your face as you gave the cigarette back to him, "but that's what makes it exciting" hanma blinked in surprise but soon enough a playful smirk painted his features, "you're so much more than what i thought you were, baby doll" he says, arm leaving your shoulder and going down to your waist as he guided you to sit on his lap

"how so?"

"hmm..thought you were a rebellious little girl tryna get revenge on her controlling daddy"

"but it was your doing"

hanma raised a brow, "how so?" this time it was him who asked the question

a shy and out of character smile spread across your lips, "never had the guts to really do stuff like this..always had to be prim n proper, had to be careful with my words n actions ya know what i mean, but the thing is before i met you all those thoughts were just...thoughts"

hanma pulled your body closer to his own, "made daddy's careful little girl a little rebel hmm?" he spoke with that arrogant tone he used whenever he won a fight so easily as he littered your face with kisses

"mhm..you're indeed the best thing that's ever been mine"

479 notes · View notes

nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Part 17)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

“People of Panem, we fight, we-” Katniss freezes, staring at her own reflection. Makeup done, hair styled to perfection, holding up a stick for the camera. This isn’t real. This isn’t war.

“Does she know the line?” Plutarch asks, into the microphone, for all to hear.

“I know it.” Katniss shakes her head to clear it.

“She’s just warming up.” Effie explains. Even she has joined the effort, leaving behind her drab quarters for Katniss.

“Alright, let’s go again. Whenever you’re ready.” Plutarch instructs.

Y/N sways, soothing her tired infant to a sleepy submission on the opposite side of the glass. Daisy May is not fond of sleep, especially with the world bustling around her.

Katniss gets back down on one knee. This is take three.

“Maybe if you show her.” Cashmere whispers to Y/N.

“Might not be a bad idea.” Plutarch watches the mockingjay, with a hand to his head.

“Yeah?” Y/N is willing to try.

“Here,” Cashmere puts her arms out, “gimme the baby.”

Y/N looks down at her daughter, kissing her tiny nose and handing her off.

She fusses for a moment, in Cashmere’s hold.

“Shh,” the blonde coos, allowing the baby to take a fistful of hair. “It’s ok, my Daisy.”

The little girl sighs, closing her grumpy eyes, never letting go of Cashmere’s waves.

“Ok, Katniss, Y/N’s coming in to do a demonstration. Just follow her lead and we’ll go from there.”

“Yeah, ok.” Katniss’ eyes scan the reflective surface, searching for her.

A second later, her mentor pops through the connecting side door. She is not made up, or wearing some crazy outfit, her stylist squeezed her into; she is just Y/N. Somehow that is enough.

“I’m a method actor, obviously.” Loved her fake husband so much that their staged marriage became a real one.

Not that Haymitch is any better. Content to kiss the ground where she walks, if he couldn’t be with her.

The joke lands only with Plutarch and Cashmere. Katniss thinks she understands, but doesn’t find it all that funny.

“First thing’s first, I’m gonna move around a little, get the blood flowing, get that shortness of breath.”

Katniss moves with her, trotting in place like a show horse.

“Good, now we’ll go down on one knee.” Y/N demonstrates and Katniss follows. “Slowly and with some effort, I’m gonna rise to my feet.”

“Because you’ve just been in battle.”

“Exactly,” Y/N smiles, before her features harden.

She is a thousand miles away, just stormed the outskirts of the Capitol. The ease with which she shifts from one to the other terrifies Katniss.

“People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!”

Even with the wind and the stupid stick in Y/N’s hand, raised in the air, Katniss almost believes it. This is the type of person that fuels a rebellion.

She was the people’s victor. She won her own way, same as Haymitch. So Snow manacled them together and scarred them with his brand.

The more Katniss learns about Y/N the more her heart aches, for the indifference she held toward her for so long. To know her is to love her and it’s a shame that not many people ever did.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Plutarch exclaims, “Katniss, now you try it. Just like that.”

“O-ok,” Katniss stammers.

Y/N moves aside, switching places so that Katniss is on the pedestal.

Katniss repeats the words verbatim, copying Y/N’s performance as best she can. She only agreed to be the face of the revolution after seeing what happened to district twelve. After seeing the reaction to Peeta’s interview with Caesar, she knows this is the only way to protect him.

There’s a slow clap from the corner, growing closer until he steps into view. The top of his blonde hair covered by a dark knit hat. “And that is how a revolution dies.”

Katniss glares at Haymitch, his hand resting at Y/N’s waist, as if no time has passed between them.

“Is this how you greet an old friend?” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.

“Maybe I don’t recognize you sober.” Katniss bites out.

“I guess it looks as bad as it feels.”

Y/N turns to him, whispering something Katniss can’t make out.

He offers her a smile and a chaste kiss.

Katniss sees herself and Peeta. The way they might have been, ten years down the line. Peeta would love her like that…and she’d love him the only way she could.

It would bubble up and swell in her chest, until she burst. Just like Haymitch, pouring from an empty cup.

————————————————————————

Katniss sinks down in her chair, as the propo plays for the team. Wishing she could melt into it, disappear. No one’s going to buy this.

Y/N rubs at her back, “it’s not as bad as you think.”

“You’re right,” Haymitch cuts in, “it’s worse.” He’s always been a tough love kind of guy. Even with an infant strapped to his chest, he isn’t brimming with compassion.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “not helping.”

“Indulge me for a moment.” Haymitch holds both hands up in surrender. “Lets everybody think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you.” He moves to the digital display, in front of the meeting table. “One moment where she made you feel something real.”

“Ooo,” Effie waves a hand. “When she volunteered for her sister at the reaping.”

“Excellent example.” Haymitch uses his forearm to clear data from the screen. He’s observed enough of Y/N and her tablet over the years, this technology is no different. “Hope that wasn’t important.” He steals a glance over his shoulder, before scribbling in, ‘volunteer 4 sis,’ with the stylus.

“And when she volunteered for Y/N.”

“When she sang that song for little Rue.”

Haymitch adds it to the list. “You know Effie, I like you better without all that makeup.”

“Well, I like you better sober.” The woman says in return, causing Haymitch to glare at her.

“When she chose Rue for an ally as well.” Beetee chimes in.

“Now, what do all of these things have in common?”

“Nobody told her what to do.” Gale understands better than anyone.

“Unscripted,” Beetee agrees, “yes. So maybe we should just leave her alone.”

“And wash her face.” Boggs narrows his eyes, “she’s still a girl, you made her look thirty-five.”

Katniss smiles at this.

“The opportunities for spontaneity are obviously lacking, here below ground.” Plutarch points out. “So what you’re suggesting is that we toss her into combat?”

“I can’t sanction putting an untrained civilian into combat for effect. This isn’t the Capitol,” Coin argues.

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Put her in the field.” Haymitch knows this is the only way.

“No, we won’t be able to protect her.” The president looks to Y/N now. Surely she is not onboard with this.

“It has to come from her, that’s what people respond to. You want a symbol for the revolution, she cannot be coached into it. Trust me, I know.” Haymitch presses on.

“He’s right,” Y/N sighs. “It’s not ideal but…it’s our only option.”

“Maybe there’s someplace less dangerous.”

“District eight, they sustained heavy bombings last week. No military targets left.”

“We can’t guarantee her safety.”

“You’ll never be able to guarantee my safety,” Katniss adds. “I wanna go.”

“And if you’re killed?” Alma’s words hang heavy between them.

“Make sure you get it on camera.”

————————————————————————

“You realize this is dangerous, let alone highly irresponsible.” Haymitch remarks, watching his wife load her gun. The bullets are color coded; black for regular, yellow are incendiary, and red for explosive. Though they’ve been asked not to fire the red ones down here.

“Yeah.” Y/N cocks the gun, squeezing the trigger and letting the bullet fly. She’s gotten better with practice, now hitting her target at dead center. “You don’t approve?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying, Haymitch?”

“As your former mentor, I’m not inclined to advise you waltzing into a war zone.” You search for water. High ground, stay away from the cornucopia.

Y/N nods, “and as my husband?”

“I’m even less inclined.” Though his feelings for her have shifted over the years, the need to protect her is fierce and unwavering.

“I can’t lose Katniss.” Not like we lost Peeta.

“Yeah,” Haymitch huffs, “I get that.”

She sets down her weapon, on the steel table in the training room. “I’m a good shot.”

“You are.”

“I’ve been working on my stamina, I’m almost back to where I was before Daisy.”

Haymitch won’t deny it. “You’ve got good aim, you’re fast, resourceful and a little bit scrappy. You can survive in harsh conditions.” You’re my victor. “But there’s a hole in your uterus the size of a dinner plate.”

“Was,” Y/N corrects him. “The doctors cleared me for this.”

“I watched you almost bleed to death; twice. So you’ll have to forgive me for being reluctant to let you risk your life. I understand that this is important to you-”

She turns, cupping his cheek, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I wouldn’t want you to go either. I love you too much.”

Haymitch affords her a soft grin, “that always gets in the way, doesn’t it?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “somehow I just keep getting sucked in deeper.”

“You keep getting sucked in?” He chuckles. “I was perfectly content on my own for over a decade, before you put your hooks in me.”

At this she laughs, harder than she should. “Don’t make it sound so romantic now.”

Still his arms are around her. Y/N’s at the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that has started growing in with gray peppered throughout and makes him feel every bit his age.

Their lips meet, by her accord or his own; he can’t say for certain. Y/N bids him closer. Deeper, harder, more. I’m yours. Nothing more, nothing less…just hers.

“Stay off him!” Cashmere scolds from the entryway, effectively breaking them apart. “It’s like you’re trying to singlehandedly repopulate this hellhole.”

“Our contribution to this great nation,” Haymitch salutes her.

————————————————————————

“We’ve gotta be quick about this. Get in and get out.” Boggs orders, as they file out of the hovercraft. Nobody wants the mockingjay on the ground for long.

Introductions are brief. Commander Paylor, of district eight, shows them to the makeshift hospital.

Bodies of fallen civilians line the entrance, covered only by tarps. “There’s a mass grave, about two miles west. But I can’t spare the manpower to move them.”

This place is a breeding ground for infection. All the wounded in one place, nothing sterile in sight.

“Don’t film me in there. I can’t help them,” Katniss says to Cressida, as they move farther into the masses.

“Just let them see you,” the woman insists. She left the Capitol for this, she knows what she’s doing.

“Come on,” Y/N gives her shoulder a squeeze.

Katniss opens her mouth to speak but Y/N disappears into the crowd, helping nurse the wounded.

There is someone in the corner; no one tends her, she is alone and clearly suffering. A bucket of water, with a single sponge inside, sits beside her, bandages to the left.

“I’m surprised they let you out just to show face. Thought you were more important than that.” The woman from district eight says.

“I’m not here to show face. I’m here to support Katniss and what I believe in.” Y/N takes a seat, beginning to clean her wounds.

“You sure this is the side you fall on?” She chokes out. “There’s no fancy parties or big houses here.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “I never liked the parties and the house wasn’t very homey. The only good thing about it was my family inside.”

“People used to look up to you.”

“That was a long time ago,” Y/N murmurs.

“They will again.” The woman is sure of it, “and when they do, make sure you’re ready. Make sure you stay on the right side of things.”

“I was just trying to survive, couldn’t see beyond that.”

“He’ll kill you for this.” President Snow. “For standing with us.”

Y/N nods, with a tired smile. “Yeah.”

“Then why are you here?”

“This is what I believe in…a new Panem. Where we are equals and have a say in our own lives. It’s worth the risk. It’s gonna take all of us, every person in every district, we all have to fight for it.”

The woman presses her lips together, allowing Y/N to dress her wounds. She says nothing else, looking up at the victor, from time to time. I see you.

It feels good to be seen, by a stranger who owes her nothing. Someone to see her without the tainted film of rose colored glasses.

————————————————————————

“How have things been since your release?” Dr. Aurelius inquires.

“Alright, I guess.” Haymitch is not here of his own free will. “Never gonna be good, given the prohibition you have going on around here. But I’d rather be with my family than locked up a mile away.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“My son’s name is Everest, he’s ten. My daughter, Arista is six and Daisy is four weeks old. Then obviously Y/N and her family. Katniss.” Peeta.

“Were they planned? The children.”

“Yes and no.” Haymitch scrubs a hand over his face.

“Can you explain what that means?”

“I don’t want…” Haymitch pauses, “our children are not burdens, Y/N and I have always said that. Those kids are everything and I don’t want that getting twisted. Ever.”

“Of course.”

“Snow gave us deadlines and we met them. With Everest and Arista, we had a year. In that year Y/N needed to be pregnant.”

“But not Daisy?”

“They screwed around with Y/N’s birth control. We’re fertile people, it doesn’t take much.” Haymitch admits.

“And your marriage, would you call it a happy one?”

“Yes, by my account. But I’m sure she’s told you all about me.” This is a joke, for the most part.

“I can’t say much, as it would be a breach of confidentiality. Still you should know, she speaks highly of you. She loves you very much.”

Haymitch drops his gaze.

“Where did you go just now?”

“Nowhere.” Haymitch brushes it off, “I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about Y/N?”

“Isn’t it fucked up how someone like that could love someone me?”

“In what way?” Dr. Aurelius asks.

“I mean you’ve met her.” Haymitch huffs, “had a few sessions.”

“Sure.”

“She’s special.”

The doctor lets him speak.

“She’s a good person. She’s smart and she’s funny and she deserves the world.” Haymitch shifts in the chair, “she got me instead. Not exactly a fair trade.”

“I don’t think she feels that way.” The doctor informs him.

“Hmm,” Haymitch mulls it over.

“From the sound of it, you have always been very protective. Now you tend the children, so she can aide the rebellion. That must be hard for you.”

Haymitch scoffs, “I want to chase her down and bring her back.”

“Then why haven’t you.”

“If you love something, you set it free or some bullshit like that.”

“You love her deeply.”

“Coin offered to ‘dissolve’ our marriage. Did Y/N tell you that?” Haymitch changes the subject.

Aurelius sighs, “she didn’t mention it.”

“Tell me, oh great one, what does that mean?”

“Her mind is made up about you, Haymitch. Whether it’s right or wrong, no matter who deserves what, the heart wants what it wants. You are what she wants.”

“I want her too,” Haymitch snaps.

“You’ve mentioned that you struggle with the fact that Y/N didn’t get to choose you as a partner. Yet each time she does, you cannot accept that she is choosing you. As though you feel unworthy, unlovable.”

“Is that your official diagnosis?” Haymitch wonders, making no effort to confirm or deny.

The doctor flips quickly between entries in his notebook. “There is no distinction in any area of your relationship, a true lack of boundaries. All of your triumphs and failures, all of your sadness and your joy, is either sourced from her or the lives you’ve created together.” Dr. Aurelius tosses both hands up. “The greatest tragedies ever written are love stories, after all.”

Part 18

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

#haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x yn #haymitch abernathy fanfic #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #moves & countermoves

407 notes · View notes

babyhatesreality · 1 year

Note

The little one seems like a adventurous one.

What if they have placed to be and they are a little late. Bucky put you on his hip so you would run around all the time while they try to get everything ready to go.

But when Bucky wants to get the stairs down fast, maybe a little to fast, he is slipping whit you and now rushing the stairs in his behind all the way down.

And little ones reacting would be like „AGAIN?! I was flying!“ 🥺😂

While they both try to calm down

HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE

This request gave me life. And made me laugh so hard. I love it. <3

Time is a Flyin'

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader (featuring Bucky)

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

He wouldn't look at the clock. He wouldn't look at the clock. He WOULDN'T look at the clock.

He looked at the clock.

Shit. Even later than he thought. Steve was gonna kill him.

"Baby, where are you?" Bucky hollered as he raced around the house. You suddenly popped up from the couch, the blanket slipping off your head.

"Here I yam!" you cheered. Bucky did a sudden about-face and raced back into the living room, making you giggle. You reached for him but squeaked in surprise when he hoisted you into his arms so fast the room became a blur.

"Listen up baby, Daddy's running really late to meet Papa," Bucky explained to you in a rush as he ran down the hallway, holding on to you tightly. "So I need best behaviors right now, okay?"

"Okay Daddy!"

"Good girl," Bucky muttered as he plopped you down on the bench by the front door and began quickly shoving your shoes on. He deliberately chose the ones with the velcro straps so he didn't have to waste time tying laces. He suddenly realized you weren't wearing a coat and just managed to catch the swear word before it left his lips.

"Bunny, go run and get your coat. Fast as you can, chop chop," he said, clapping his hands playfully at you. You squealed with delight at the new game and took off for your bedroom as Bucky flew back into the kitchen to refill your day bag with snacks. He cursed under his breath once he knew you were out of earshot; he just KNEW not refilling it immediately after yesterday's trip to the library was going to be a mistake.

He looked at the clock again. SHIT. He was so dead.

"Baby, got your coat?" he hollered loudly, throwing the backpack on and racing towards your room. He screeched to a halt in your doorway. You had put your jacket on, but had gotten distracted by your stuffies.

"Daddy can Jellybean come?" you asked innocently, turning to meet his eyes, but instead gave another squeak as Daddy swooped you up into his arms again.

"Not this time, Baby," he said, before giving you a long kiss on the temple to take the sting of not being able to bring your bunny along. "We gotta go meet Papa and fast, don't want Jellybean getting lost along the way." Knowing Daddy needed best behavior right now, you just sighed and waved to Jellybean as Daddy raced towards the front door.

"JARVIS, doors!" Bucky yelled as you approached. You heard the click of the locks right before Bucky practically ripped the door off its hinges, slamming it quickly. "Lock it up," Bucky ordered the AI as he ran down the hallway.

"JARVIS, PLEASE," you said deliberately, your voice jolting a bit as Bucky ran, which, in turn, made you giggle. You weren't allowed to run in the hallways- this was FUN.

"Of course, Mr. Barnes and Princess," JARVIS replied politely. You were already too far away to hear the clicking of the locks, but you knew JARVIS had it taken care of. You tried to pat Bucky on the cheek to get his attention as he huffed towards the elevator, but he was going so fast and you were bouncing so hard you accidentally smacked his forehead.

"Sorry Daddy!" you chirped when he gave you the side eye. "But did you see that I helped with the door??"

"Yeah, good job Princess," Bucky said with a quick grin, before focusing back on the path in front of him. He came to a halt right in front of the elevator. He mashed the button quickly, but it didn't light up. He pushed it again- nothing. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, practically putting his fist through the panel in his frustration.

"Excuse me, Mr. Barnes, but I'm sorry to inform you that the elevator is currently down for maintenance," JARVIS said apologetically.

"SHIT," Bucky hissed, then immediately held up one finger in front of your suddenly excited face. "Don't even think about it," he warned. "That's a no-no word."

"How's come all the fun words are no-no words? Dat's not fair."

"Life ain't fair, kiddo."

"Papa gonna wash your mouth out with soap, Daddy."

"I'll give you an extra cookie after dinner if you don't tell Papa what I said."

"DEAL!"

That having been settled, Bucky looked over at the stairway door. At least he managed to only think the swear word instead of saying it this time. He sighed heavily, and shoved open the door. He looked all the way down the stairwell. Your apartment was on one of the upper levels. It was going to take forever to walk down the stairs and make him even later and Steve was going to kill him even harder. He came up with a plan, but didn't have time to really think it through- except one thing.

Bucky's head snapped to you, looking you right in the eye. "Listen up, Private Baby," he said, using his Sergeant voice. You instantly paid attention, looking at him with wide eyes. "You hang on tight, you hear me? Don't let go for anything. I'm not gonna let you fall," he said firmly. "And don't you DARE try this on your own, got it?" You had no idea what he was talking about, but you were intrigued, to say the least. You had no fear of Daddy ever dropping you- he and Papa were the strongest in the whole world and you knew he would never let you go. So you did as he asked- you gripped him as hard as you could around his neck and locked your legs into place around his waist.

"Okay, Sergeant Daddy!"

The next thing you knew, you were flying through the air. Daddy was jumping over entire flights of stairs, holding on to you so tightly it took your breath away. Your focus kept snapping back and forth between the intense concentration on his face as he leaped and the whoosh of air blowing your hair back as the concrete stairs just disappeared underneath you. You were just completely at a loss for words or actions as you held on for dear life and the floors of the tower passed by in a blur.

Bucky finally made it to the ground floor where the garage was, and stopped. Super soldier or not, he needed a moment after that. Breathing hard, he craned his neck to look down at you. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked, trying to regulate his breathing as he swallowed hard. You didn't answer for a moment, you just stared at the ground, then slowly turned your head to look at him. You blinked twice, but didn't say anything. "Baby?" he asked again, starting to panic a bit. "Are you okay?"

"AGAIN!!!" you suddenly screamed joyfully, catching him completely off guard. "AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN!!!! DO IT AGAIN DADDY!!!!"

Bucky's face couldn't have been more shocked if he'd tried. "Wh-what?" he said stupidly, not believing what he was hearing.

"CAN WE DO IT AGAIN????" you begged, bouncing in his arms. "That was the mostest funnest thing ever!!! We was FLYING!!!" You were wiggling so hard in your sheer delight that YOU were now shaking HIM. "Can we please do it again??? I promise to be good forever!!! Please please please again again again!!!!"

Knowing he now had TWO big problems on his hands, Bucky just started storming towards their car, which, of course, was all the way at the other end of the floor. The world was against him today. "Listen, Trouble," he said. "You remember how I said we weren't telling Papa about the no-no word?"

"Yeah, and da cookie!"

"If you don't tell Papa about flying down the stairs like we just did, I will let you pick out three new stuffies this weekend."

"WOW!! Dis many??" you asked, delightedly holding up three fingers. He couldn't help but grin.

"You are so smart," he said, kissing the side of your head as he hurried. "Yup, that many. But you CANNOT tell Papa. You tell Papa and the deal's off, got it?"

"Got it!"

"It'll be our little secret about flying, okay?"

"Okay! I am really good at secrets about flying, Daddy! Like how it's a secret when Uncle Sam is watching me and we go flying around the city with his falcon wings."

"Wait- WHAT?!"

#daddy stucky #daddy!stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!steve #daddy steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy bucky #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky x little reader

615 notes · View notes

britany1997 · 1 year

Note

Hello!! I was wondering if I could request a blurb with the lost boys where the reader is a vampire as well? Like, maybe they find the reader in the video store or on the beach and one of the boys asks, “Are you scared of vampires?” and reader just replies something like, “I don’t know, are you?”

Vampires Everywhere

Of course you can! Hope you like this💕 s/o to @crustyraccoon for offering to pre-read this for me! Ily🫶🫶🫶

UPDATE read smutty part two here

Poly! Lost Boys x GN Vampire Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

You were scanning through the Horror movie section at Max’s video store, looking for something to satisfy your craving for some gory entertainment for the night. As your hand brushed over a copy of Fright Night, so did another hand. You looked up to stare into the mischievous blue eyes of a tall blonde boy. You smiled thinking you’d found a way to satisfy another much more persistent craving.

He smiled back at you slyly, “so you like vampires?” He asked.

You laughed softly to yourself, “love them,” You told him.

He slung his arm around your shoulder, “it’d be such a waste to watch that all alone wouldn’t it sugar?” He asked, “my buddies and I love Fright Night, sure they’d be thrilled to watch it with a cutie like you. If you’d be up for it”

This was almost too easy. You loved the hunt, but you could never say no to fast food. “Sounds like a blast” you told him, smiling sinisterly.

The blonde boy brought you back to his friends, they looked like they were in some sort of biker gang. They might have been intimidating to a human, but you know they’d be no match for you vampire strength.

“This is Dwayne, David, and Marko, and I’m Paul.” Paul told you introducing himself and his friends.

You flashed them a smile, and introduced yourself. Looking at them you were struck by how incredibly handsome they all were, not enough though, not when you were this hungry.

The bleach blonde one, David, smirked “it should be illegal to walk around Santa Carla looking that attractive babe, you look good enough to eat.”

The boys chuckled at his words, and to their surprise, you did too. “You flatter me,” you said, “I feel the same way about you.”

The strange boys took you back to their place, which David had explained was a sunken hotel. You looked around at the cave curiously, maybe you could live here after they were gone, it seemed like the perfect home for a young vampire in Santa Carla.

Paul led you towards the couch, “want anything to eat sugar?” He asked you.

“No thanks,” you replied smiling, “I’m um…I’m on a special diet.”

Paul shrugged, “suit yourself” he said before sitting down next to you and slinging his arm over your shoulder again. The angelic looking one named Marko hopped in on your other side, as David stood behind you, smoking, and Dwayne popped in the movie.

It only took fifteen minutes for your hunger to become undeniable, as pretty as they were, you knew you’d have to tear into these boys soon.

You brought the hand Paul had placed over your shoulder to your lips, pressing soft kisses all along it. Paul’s head snapped to watch you, smiling as you toyed with him.

You continued to kiss him while he watched, the other boys seemingly oblivious. Just as he looked like he was starting to get comfortable, your eyes glowed a bright yellow, and your teeth elongated into sharp fangs. You bit down into his hand and started to suck.

To your surprise, he laughed, yanking his hand out of your mouth with more force than you had ever felt a human exert. You stared at him in shock as he held your jaw in his unbitten hand. “You’re a vampire?!” He asked excitedly. All the boys were looking at you now as you nodded in response, unsure of what to say.

“Get out!” He exclaimed, “so are we!” You watched as his features shifted, until his own yellow gaze met yours. “We were gonna eat you too! Damn this is wild!” You gasped, you had never met another vampire before, much less four.

You pulled your jaw from Paul’s grip and looked around at the others who were now all donning their vamp faces as well. “How bizarre…” you said.

“It’s strange for us too,” David told you, “we thought we were the only vampires around here. Why haven’t we heard about a spike in kills?”

You smirked at him, “I’m very discreet,” you told him.

He ruffled your hair, “cute” he said.

You raised your eyebrow at him and nipped at his hand affectionately.

“Hey guys,” Marko piped up, “I don’t mean to interrupt this beautiful moment, but I’m fucking starving. What are we gonna do now that we can’t eat them.” He said pointing at you.

“I was thinking the same thing,” you said, “I’m famished and I was gonna eat you.” You said pointing back at him.

Marko smirked, “we kinda figured when you took a bite outta Paul,” he said back to you.

“You’re welcome to do that anytime by the way sugar,” Paul said while winking at you.

You rolled your eyes but smiled, you really wouldn’t mind sinking your teeth into him again.

Dwayne checked his watch, “not enough time to lure someone else back here,” he said.

David smirked “guess we’re eating out.”

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @pixielostboy @solobagginses

#the lost boys #paul lost boys #dwayne lost boys #david lost boys #tlb #tlb 1987 #marko lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys fic #poly lost boys #gn reader #vampire reader #b97fic

990 notes · View notes

where-does-the-heart-lie · 8 months

Note

Can we have a deeper analysis in Sabo's shape language study please? It's amazing how you make him give different vibes with just his hair and I like to understand how does that work.

Oh. I'm SO glad you asked.

(The Post In Question)

Okay so this isnt the first post ive made about shape language,

Here are the others:

ASL Shapes Strawhats Shapes

i'm just gonna copy and paste the definition i have for shape language from those posts here so i dont have to write it all again.

Shape language is defined as “a concept used in art and animation to communicate meaning based on shapes we are familiar with” (source). This concept uses circles, triangles, and squares to convey an idea of the “personality” of the design without using any words.

In designs, using circles and rounded edges in your silhouette and detailing gives the design a soft and squishy look. They tend to be harmless, approachable, or changeable.

Designs using squares gives the design a solid, sturdy, and strong look. They are supportive, reliable, and inflexible

Lastly, triangle designs are sharp and directional. They are dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable.

That's base level but here's more in depth description of each design for ya:

this one is up first!

You may notice how in this design, his hair isnt in large clumps like the others are. His hair falls delicately and waves gently with little to no hard angles.

In this design, i was trying to convey the idea of "he wasnt born to fight, but he's molded himself into someone who will." I tried to depict that by making his hair all light and feathery, his facial features soft and rounded, but also showing how he's modified his body in a pointy and aggressive way.

I didn't want to only go hard edges with the piercings though because much like he's strayed from his mold of being delicate, he's also strayed from his mold of being a cruel noble. so some of his piercings are rings, AKA: Circles.

You may also notice the different in how I've drawn the collars of these guys. the collar of this Babo's black coat falls softly, and its' arc is rounded. The shoulders don't have any padding and it rounds at the corner.

This Man Is Round.

Next up is this Freak

This is supposed to be Triangle Him.

His hair is in larger, hard angled clumps. Indicating that he probably cut his hair himself. He did... greattt. I already headcannon him as someone who cuts his own hair, but i dont think this one ever gets any better at it.

The hard angles on his teeth, his scar, his jaw, his collar, that line i forgot to erase on the left, and his coat all give indication that this guy is Dangerous and you probably shouldnt mess with him.

I didn't have any real deeper meaning to this version, I just wanted to make him look as opposing as I could. this guy is "what you see is pretty much what you get."

Even though he doesn't have a lot of deeper meaning, I think this one is my favorite of the designs. I really love these colors on him and his hair was really fun to draw. I think I wanna draw him again at some point. I think this version of him would be very funny paired with Koala. I'm chuckling thinking about it:

Koala and her Armed and On Fire kindergartener

And lastly this guy

Sabo's base design is very rectangle coded. From his Hat, to his face shape, to his coat. So this version was very easy to make as I didn't actually need to change that much!

I think maybe I could've made his design a little more complex? But also I think there is a beauty in simplicity for this one. He looks straightforward, reliable, and kind. He seems like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty, not because he likes doing it, but because he does what he must for the greater good.

I really love his hazel eyes, too. I think it brings a nice warmth to his design that is really nice.

Additional comments:

I love talking about this stuff. I love designing. I love art. I love drawing so much it's so fun

Everytime I get to sit down and make some funky doodles my brain feels like 🧠🤸🧘🧜🧚🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🧚💃💃💃💃💃💃

If you got this far thanks for reading :)

I usually have a description for my designs and my choices and stuff and I forgot to do one for this post, it makes me happy to see that it was missed :)

#ask reply #@naniguini #shape language

185 notes · View notes

superlinguo · 2 months

Text

Research Data Management. Or, How I made multiple backups and still almost lost my honours thesis.

This is a story I used to tell while teaching fieldworkers and other researchers about how to manage their data. It’s a moderately improbable story, but it happened to me and others have benefited from my misadventures. I haven't had reason to tell it much lately, and I thought it might be useful to put into writing. This is a story from before cloud storage was common - back when you could, and often would, run out of online email storage space. Content note: this story includes some unpleasant things that happened to me, including multiple stories of theft (cf. moderately improbable). Also, because it's stressful for most of the story, I want to reassure you that it does have a happy conclusion. It explains a lot of my enthusiasm for good research data management. In Australia, 'honours' is an optional fourth year for a three year degree. It's a chance to do some more advanced coursework and try your hand at research, with a small thesis project. Of course, it doesn't feel small when it's the first time you've done a project that takes a whole year and is five times bigger than anything you’ve ever written. I've written briefly about my honours story (here, and here in a longer post about my late honours supervisor Barb Kelly) . While I did finish my project, it all ended a bit weirdly when my supervisor Barb got ill and left during the analysis/writing crunch. The year after finishing honours I got an office job. I hoped to maybe do something more with my honours work, but I wasn't sure what, and figured I would wait until Barb was better. During that year, my sharehouse flat was broken into and the thief walked out with the laptop I'd used to do my honours project. The computer had all my university files on it, including my data and the Word version of my thesis. I lost interview video files, transcriptions, drafts, notes and everything except the PDF version I had uploaded to the University's online portal. Uploading was optional at the time, if I didn't do that I probably would have just been left with a single printed copy. I also lost all my jewellery and my brother’s base guitar, but I was most sad about the data (sorry bro). Thankfully, I made a backup of my data and files on a USB drive that I kept in my handbag. This was back when a 4GB thumb drive was an investment. That Friday, feeling sorry for myself after losing so many things I couldn't replace, I decided to go dancing to cheer myself up. While out with a group of friends, my bag was stolen. It was the first time I had a nice handbag, and I still miss it. Thankfully, I knew to make more than one back up. I had an older USB that I'd tucked down the back of the books on my shelf (a vintage 256MB drive my dad kindly got for me in undergrad after a very bad week when I lost an essay to a corrupted floppy disk). When I went to retrieve the files, the drive was (also) corrupted. This happens with hard drives sometimes. My three different copies in three different locations were now lost to me.

Thankfully, my computer had a CD/DVD burner. This was a very cool feature in the mid-tens, and I used to make a lot of mixed CDs for my friends. During my honours project I had burned backed up files on some discs and left them at my parents house. It was this third backup, kept off site, which became the only copy of my project. I very quickly made more copies. When Barb was back at work, and I rejoined her as a PhD student, it meant we could return to the data and all my notes. The thesis went through a complete rewrite and many years later was published as a journal article (Gawne & Kelly 2014). It would have probably never happened if I didn’t have those project files. I continued with the same cautious approach to my research data ever since, including sending home SD cards while on field trips, making use of online storage, and archiving data with institutional repositories while a project is ongoing.

I’m glad that I made enough copies that I learnt a good lesson from a terrible series of events. Hopefully this will prompt you, too, to think about how many copies you have, where they’re located, and what would happen if you lost access to your online storage.

#language #linguistics #data management #archiving

70 notes · View notes

thecoleopterawithana · 6 months

Text

Eras: The Beatles | Episode 6 - Now and Then

In the final episode of Eras: The Beatles, we hear the story behind The Beatles' final single Now and Then, including new interviews with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. Narrated by Martin Freeman, the episode also features insight on the new track from Sean Ono Lennon, Olivia Harrison and Peter Jackson.

[This episode features more complete audio from the soundbites included in the 'Now and Then' short film/documentary. Under the cut are transcriptions of some of my favorite sections. Including Paul's interpretation of the meaning of 'Now and Then' (bonus points if you guess his answer!)]

PAUL: And then 'Now and Then' just kind of languished in a cupboard and we didn't do anything with it. I kept saying, "You know, maybe we should do something with this, seems a bit—" "Hm, I don't know..." There wasn't a great desire to do anything with it. So it hung around for a while. Years! And every so often, I'd kind of go to the cupboard and think, "There's a new song in there! We should do it! We gotta do it!" But it'd go back in the cupboard.

[...]

PAUL: Peter [Jackson] had sent me a text while he was doing the 'Get Back' thing. He said, "Here's a piece of dialogue of John's that I'd like to use, but George is rehearsing in the background," and you could hear George's guitar and you couldn't really make out quite what John was saying because it was distracting. He said, "But we've got this new technology: Machine Assisted Learning. M.A.L., so we're calling it MAL." Which was like— that was really cool! Because our old road manager and dear friend was Mal [Evans].

[...]

PETER JACKSON: I'd had this idea for two or three years about him [Paul] singing a duet with John. And the fact that we'd developed this software now allows us to separate the voices and the music meant that I could take a song that John and Paul were singing on, just separate John's vocal only, and Paul could have that for playing on stage. And then his band and himself could do the vocals and the playing for the rest of the song. So he could do a duet with John. He didn't even blink, he just said, "That's a fantastic idea, I love it! Let's do it!" And so we quickly turned that around and got that underway. So Paul was now touring with a John Lennon duet on 'I Got a Feeling'.

[...]

PETER JACKSON: I got a phone call from Paul saying, "Is it possible to use that technology for another project I've been thinking about? [...] Would it be possible to take John's vocal and clean it up and get rid of everything else? Because that would allow us to finish this Beatles song." And absolutely, it didn't take me more than about a second to get back to him and say, "Of course we can do it!"

[...]

PETER JACKSON: We assumed that the copy of 'Now and Then' that they were working to in the studio in 1995, where the vocals were coming from, was probably not a first-generation copy. [...] So we though, well this is probably a third generation [tape copy]. [...] And so we contacted Sean Lennon and he was very helpful. And sure enough, we got a digital copy of the original. Which is the same demo, same performance, but two generations better.

[...]

RINGO: I'm sitting there thinking, "I don't remember George doing that solo?" It was just like practicing, maybe. Cus it sounds like George! Then Paul said, "No, it's me." [laughs] But Paul did a great job. I mean, he's very good, you know, Paul. He's a very good musician.

[...]

RINGO: Giles [Martin] had to fly out to LA one day to listen to a four-hour string session that Paul wanted, and then fly back to England! [laughs] There's no string sections in England!

[...]

PAUL: Eventually, when we got to mix number 7 it was, "Wow, this is it! Now it's a Beatle record!" And we played it to various people, some of whom cried. Some of whom said, "Jesus Christ! It's a Beatles record!" But the reaction was very favorable.

[...]

RINGO: The difference from the two tracks of John, the old track of John— you know, we have to thank Sean as well, because he found the original tape. So that's the one you can really hear John, not the copy-copy-copies. And... it's like John's there, you know. It's far out. It's so clear now you know it's him. Cus on the original one we were working to I couldn't tell if it was Paul or John singing half the time. But now you know it's John! [chuckles]

[...]

PAUL: I think it just means 'now and then'. "Now and then, I have a cup of tea". I'm not sure it means an awful lot more than that. But, looking at it from today's perspective, now and then. Then you can start to get all sorts of meanings in. The modern-day, the historical past of the Beatles. It lines up with all of that. But we were always very happy to let people make their own minds up. "Here it is, it's a song. Now, the minute we deliver it to you, it's up to you. You can do anything you want with it." And people do!

[...]

RINGO: And that was what it was like for the three of us when we started this role in the 90s. We had to pretend— it always makes me laugh when I think of it— we had to pretend that he'd gone for a cup of tea or his lunch. But that he was still around. Because it was very strange when we started there's only three of us, after all those years, and all that life, that there were four of us. And I still miss him, man!

[...]

SEAN LENNON: It feels very synchronous that the lyric speaks about time and that it's taken so much time. That it sort of fuses the past and the present. It's like a time capsule. And it all feels very meant to be — or fated, or something — in the nicest sense.

[...]

PAUL: When I remember the Beatles, I remember the joy, the talent, the humor, the love. And I think, if people remembered us for that — for those things — I'd be very happy.

#(the fact that I'm back to spending +2h transcribing audio from these guys is a pretty good indication I'm back in the throws of Beatlemania #The Beatles #John Lennon #Paul McCartney #Ringo Starr #George Harrison #Now and Then #Peter Jackson #Sean Ono Lennon #Mal Evans #the person i actually picked as my partner #solo #2023 #my stuff #audio

105 notes · View notes

ohblackdiamond · 15 days

Text

the story of mandate (conclusion)

Part I is here. Here is the completely signed magazine.

I went to a Paul event thanks to my dear friend @elrohare and I was a woman on a mission. This was my holy grail, my twelve labors of Hercules, my ultimate sacrifice of good sense, my Mandate, if you will. Paul is a man of constant sorrow who's seen trouble all his days. Paul had not known trouble until he saw my face again a mere two months after his last time.

Unlike Gene, who will randomly set a date to hand out his crap for hilarious prices, Ace, who will appear at any 500-1000 seater across the country and balefully advertise his meet and greets onstage, and Peter, who will roll out of bed every six months for a horror convention, Paul does his events at Wentworth galleries across the country. Paul is basically like Pokemon Red's Porygon. You can get him, but he'll take everything you have.

I was prepared. I had done the legwork and the paperwork. Part of my purchase included an autographed item. (Please note that this is not nearly the entirety of the, uh, Paul Stanley Experience, if you will-- this is only the Mandate aspect of it. There was more!)

Paul remembered both of us. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah, couple months, since February, yeah." I'm actually sort of not shocked he remembered us since neither of us look like typical KISS fans. There is also a very large height difference between us, so we are distinctive. We talk. I manage some conversation, some of which is sort of funny. But I'm not here to provide Paul with wit and candor. I'm here for Mandate, which he has already by that point seen the back of even with me trying to cover the naked men in the tub with my phone. He has already also seen the front of it, with its doodled-on-by-Gene cover. He has seen it open, because I had to set it down in order for us to take our picture together. He has probably spent the whole rest of our conversation leading up to this determining what to say to the lone weirdo that has not given him RARO, his solo album, his other solo album, the KISS comic book (mint condition), or various and sundry other KISS collectibles.

He has hit on it. He gestures to the president of Wentworth who is, incidentally, the one that's borrowing my phone to take our pictures. He comes closer as Paul shows him the magazine, along with me.

"Gene drew on it [the front cover of my copy]," I say.

"Mandate... this is the very first magazine we were ever in." (Peter said the same thing in his first book. They are both technically incorrect, but far be it from me to correct Paul Stanley on things that happened before I was born-- and to be honest, knowing what I know about how slow it could end up being to go from writing a feature for a monthly magazine to it actually being published, it wouldn't surprise me at all if they'd done the magazine some months prior to it being on the shelves).

"Our manager at the time said he could get us into a magazine. We didn't know it was a gay magazine. I mean, whatever you're into, but... ["I wasn't," basically, though I don't know if he said those two words specifically]....." as he flips, completely needlessly, through the pictures, sort of slowly, until he gets to page eight and page nine, where all three of his bandmates have signed in black Sharpie. "Of course, they blew me [the photo] up. ... And Gene drew on it."

I finally manage to pipe up.

"Yeah, Gene texted you about it, purportedly, anyway...."

"Yeah, he did."

"He did? Really?"

He looked like he was weirdly thoughtful. Well, sounded like he was. Maybe even a little bit amused. I had a hard time looking too hard at him while this was going on, and I found myself looking more at the naked men he was flipping through. But I had my plan and I would not be too distracted. I had brought my own black Sharpie, since I knew he had a penchant for signing in silver (this is because his Wentworth artwork always comes with an inscription on black paper that he writes on in silver). The Sharpie was right there and, possibly because he was keenly aware of my level of distress at the thought of Mandate being signed in a different color, he obediently took it and signed it and shut it, and handed it back to me. My smile could've broken through my dimples.

Triumph complete. Thank you, @elrohare for again allowing me the pleasure of coming with, and I was glad to plus-one and for once, return the favor.

Thank you, Mr. Paul Stanley of KISS. And thank you to Peter, Gene (especially Gene!), and Ace. I hope Mandate gave you all an unexpected blast from the past, and I really wish I'd told Paul that Peter quite appreciated the ass on the guy on the front cover. Maybe next time.

#kiss the band #paul stanley #peter criss #ace frehley #mandate magazine #gene simmons

31 notes · View notes

familyvideostevie · 1 year

Note

Hey hey! Can I request number 19 with steve please?? thanks <3

hi! you sure can! the prompt for this one was personal gifts. here's that -- a small, sweet pre-relationship moment with steve. i hope you like it! __

Steve's car smells like teenagers, like Will's paints and Dustin's latest gum flavor and El's gentle perfume. You pop open the glove box and retrieve the small tube of your lotion that Steve keeps for you, putting just a little on your knuckles so the car smells like you, too.

"Thanks for picking me up," you say. Steve hums. He's taking you to the library to grab your newest stack of loans. You could very easily take the bus, or walk, even, but Steve has told you a million times the he likes to drive you.

"Did you bring you returns?" he asks. You nod. Time alone for the two of you is hard to get -- there are kids to be dropped off and jobs to work and errands to run. But you soak up every second you can get with Steve because, well. Because he makes your somatic flutter and your heart pound and you love it.

"How was work?" you ask and fiddle with the radio.

Steve looks over at you. You want to brush the hair out of his face. "The usual," he says. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "I think next week we'll have Say Anything back, if you still want to watch it."

You grab his shoulder. He's warm through his jacket. "Really? We'll have to have a movie night." You mentally scan your own work schedule for next week. "Can I invite Robin and Nancy? If you want to watch it, I mean."

"Why wouldn't I want to watch it with you?" he asks. His cheeks are a little pink. "If you want me there, I mean."

"I just said I did, didn't I?" More and more of your conversations end up like this -- hesitant reassurances, gentle admissions. Like you're both shy around each other all of a sudden.

Steve pulls into a parking spot in front of the library. "Before you get out, I, uh, I have something for you. Don't want to forget." He unbuckles and leans into your space so fast you swallow a gasp, but he's really just reaching behind your seat to grab something from the back.

It's a file folder. You take it from him gingerly, noting how eager he looks.

"What is this, Steve?" you ask. He runs a hand through his hair. He seems to be fighting a smile.

"Well, Jonathan developed his roll from the party last week? And he called and said he had some nice ones of uh, you. And us. So I asked him to print them." You open the folder and see what he's talking about right away. You remember posing for most of these, your features captured in black and white. One of you and Robin clinking your glasses, another of you with Nancy's head in your lap. You, both girls, and Eddie eating popcorn.

And then one of just you, smiling softly. Jonathan told you to think of something that made you happy for that one. The last photo in the folder is one of you and Steve, his arm slung around your shoulder. You're beaming at the camera, but Steve's face is in profile. He's looking at you, his grin soft and happy.

"These are great," you tell him. "Thank you for asking Jonathan to print them."

"I was going to get them framed, actually," Steve rambles. "But I wanted to give them to you first, see if you liked them. And then if you want we can stop by the store and get them measured and stuff--"

"Steve," you interrupt. "Do you have a copy of this?" You're looking at the one of both of you. He clears his throat.

"Yeah," he says. "I do."

"Good," you tell him. "We should frame yours, too. But after I get my books." He grins. You want to touch him. Maybe today you will.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve Harrington blurb #blurb

536 notes · View notes

inagetawaycarxo · 1 year

Text

Friends Or Something More

— ❄PAIRINGS: Evan Buckley x F!Reader

— ❄FEATURING: Evan Buckley, Y/n, Y/n’s elderly neighbour.

— ❄SYNOPSIS: Y/n’s elderly neighbour suspects that Buck and you maybe more than just friends.

— ❄WARNINGS: errors I missed, just some wholesome fluff, shenanigans, elderly neighbour trying to play matchmaker, slow burn.

— ❄w/c: 800

— ❄AUTHORS NOTE: please note Xmas requesting is closed. But you can request non-Xmas things for 9-1-1.

— ❄DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT give consent/permission for my work to be copied and pasted on other platforms. HOWEVER, I highly encourage feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments.

Buck quickly checked himself out in the rearview before getting out of his car. Seeing if he looked good. Once he was satisfied, he quickly undid his seat belt. Taking the keys out of the ignition. Grabbing the food container on the passenger seat. He reached down and grabbed his overnight bag.

He checked to see if the lights were off. After checking they were, he got out of his car. Shutting the door and locking it.

Rushing over to his best friend's apartment complex front entrance. Punching in the code for the door. The door unlocked. He grabbed the door handle. Balancing the food container against his arm and side, he opened the door. He walked inside. Using his body to close the door.

He ascended the stairs quickly. Anyone would think he was rushing to his apartment so he could use the toilet.

Buck felt his heart racing as he finally got to the floor of your apartment. He didn’t know why his heart was racing. Maybe it was the way you made him feel. He knew he had feelings for you, feelings that a best friend shouldn’t have. He didn’t say anything because he feared rejection, and he didn’t want to lose you as his best friend. You understood him, you were there for him if he lost you he would be lonely.

Buck finally reached your apartment. Putting his overnight bag down so he could knock on your door.

The door swung open revealing your neighbour inside.

“Oh it’s buck,” She beamed. Grabbing the side of his cheeks. Slightly shocking him.

She looked behind her to see what you were doing. Then looked back up. She lowered her voice so only he could hear.

“You should ask her out,” She spoke. Buck let out a scoff.

“I don’t have feelings for her she is my friend,” Buck denied. Only making her scoff at this boy's stubbornness. Though you were stubborn too. She may be old but she could tell Buck and you had feelings for each other. Feelings that weren’t platonic.

“If you keep telling yourself those lies you will never get her,” She spoke.

Both of them heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Buck,” You beamed, as you came into view. Buck beamed at you. Making your neighbour smirk.

Buck and you quickly hugged each other. To your neighbour, she thought it was a little bit longer than what a friend should. Almost like Buck and you didn’t want to separate when Buck and you did. She decided to leave. Hopefully, her words to Buck would encourage him to shoot his shot.

“I will leave you and Buck to it, Happy holidays,” she spoke, as she hugged both of you. Before she left she whispered in both your ears to make a move.

When she left Buck grabbed his overnight bag and walked inside.

“This is for you, it’s dessert, I made it, well I didn’t make it Maddie made it, I helped though,” He rambled. Making you giggle.

He placed the food container in the fridge. Turning to face you. You were leaning against the counter. Staring at him with amusement in your eyes, and something else.

“Do you need any help?” Buck asked. You shook your head.

“Everything is done, just have to wait for the chicken to cook, so, all we have to do is relax, want to watch a movie?” You spoke.

“You always outdo yourself, one day I’m going to help you out,” He spoke. Walking closer to you.

“Keep dreaming,” You teased. Buck tickled your sides making you let out a gasp and then giggles. Begging him to stop. When he did you realized how close he was to you. Both of you stared at each other. The only sound that could be heard in the room was his breathing as well as yours. Hearts pounding.

Taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. Your neighbour's words swirl around in your mind. Telling you to go for it, that you will regret it, but you were scared he wouldn’t feel the same way.

“Let’s watch the movie,” You spoke. Breaking the silence and pulling away from him. Buck nodded his head. Making you smile. You took a hold of his hand. Butterflies swarming in your stomach as well as his, you quickly lead him into the living room.

“You pick, I’m going to get us something to drink and eat,” You spoke. Handing him the remote, you then walked to the kitchen.

Lucky for you, you couldn’t see the living room from there. You pressed your back to the wall, letting out a shaky breath. Evening your breathing. Until it was steady enough for you to go back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Buck was doing the same thing…

LIKES ARE AWESOME, BUT COMMENTS/FEEDBACK ARE GEMS! HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x y/n #buck x reader #911 imagine #911 x reader #xmas imagine #christmas edition #christmas imagine #christmas imagines

358 notes · View notes

weirdmarioenemies · 1 year

Photo

Name: Chemitory

Debut: Kirby: Planet Robobot

Hello everyone! I hope you’ve remembered to take your medicine lately! And I hope you take it from a secure and clean container received from your pharmacy, and not from a funny robot who throws ambiguous pills at you! Because that would not be healthy. That’s a Science Fact!

Of all the robobots they put in Planet Robobot, Chemitory is my favorite! This design is so so pleasant, and as it idles, it waves its hands gently and happily. Perfectly pill-shaped, since it is all about pills, with floaty hands and an eyes-in-a-void face! That is such a common kind of face for Kirby characters, but it works so especially wonderfully here! Perhaps this is a Haltmann Works Company healthcare robot, here to allegedly help. Instead, it throws pills at what it considers a problem in hopes that it will go away. A scathing satire of modern psychiatry!

Of course, Chemitory has a big clear dome full of pills, and it is here to throw them at you! This dome, delightfully, swings back on the two hinges on either side of its head, allowing it to reach in! What is Chemitory’s prescription?

Chemitory has been officially diagnosed as Mad Scientist! If it doesn’t have its pills, it probably turns into a boring ol’ Regular Scientist. Doing dilutions in a lab. Wearing proper protective equipment. That’s not Chemitory’s style! Chemitory would rather endanger lives and not be approved by the FDA, like a GOOD mad scientist!

Kirby can swallow Chemitory, OR its pills, to obtain the Doctor ability! I am a little surprised the ESRB was fine with letting Kirby consume strange pills, and receive a benefit from doing so. Again, please don’t consume strange pills. But I’m glad Kirby does it, because Doctor is perhaps my favorite ability! It is so fun! Kirby can throw pills like Chemitory, as well as lots of other medical-themed stuff! It is also probably the silliest looking Copy Ability. That is so many accessories! Wonderful.

Something I think is so delightfully wacky about Chemitory, and Doctor as a whole, is that they may very well owe their entire existence to the Dr. Mario amiibo! Planet Robobot allows for amiibo to be scanned to give Kirby certain abilities, and it seems that its new abilities were designed with this in mind! ESP is obviously a Ness reference, almost obnoxiously so. Poison, while the most original of the three, can be reasonably linked to Splatoon, since it features goop that splatters onto surfaces, and damages enemies that touch it. Doctor, of course, is heavily based on Dr. Mario!

Do you think, if amiibo did not exist, or if Dr. Mario was not added to Smash 4, the Doctor ability, and by extension Chemitory, would have never even been conceptualized? It feels rather possible to me, so I am glad both of those things happened!

Chemitory is a sort of one-hit wonder, appearing only in one game. At the end of Planet Robobot, when the mechanization is reverted, maybe every Chemitory even ceased to exist! I have faith, however, that we will see Chemitory again, since Copy Abilities always make their return eventually! And hopefully, Doctor will make its comeback in Kirby Star Allies 2: Chemitory Is In This One And Is Playable!

#chemitory #kirby #kirby planet robobot #kirby enemies #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako #a very funny thing about Chemitory is #before its name was confirmed #the Fandom Kirby Wikia just sort of assigned it the name Pillah with no actual basis #and we all just went with it #because a wiki is supposed to be trustworthy #always check sources for claims folks

152 notes · View notes