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#i just. hmmmm. a lot of things to think about but nothing to think about.
sysig · 4 months
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It’ll all go fine if you’d just don’t worry about it, probably (Patreon)
#Doodles#Handplates#UT#Fellplates#Gaster#Toriel#And technically Sans and Papyrus are offscreen in that last one but they're there!#Starting with a dress because Gaster always needs some pretty clothes!#His cute little angel wings expanded into a shawl :D With a feather-themed dress as well#I was thinking he'd look good in a bleeding-heart pigeon getup - just a little on the nose symbolism hehe - but it'd be very stark as well#But I mean Monsters don't bleed it's fine probably it's just a pop of bright red! Doesn't mean anything!#Thinking about the symbolism of his decorative wings normal-like as well...and of Gerson talking about the Angel of Death.....hmmmm#I'm sure it's nothing haha :)#Thinking again about Toriel taking issue with Gaster's new hole punches but not necessarily of her knowing what they mean#He has to be careful how much he shares of his progress! If she knew what might she make of him? Of them?#Two new little things to be subjugated? Or worse? All the more reason to keep them secret#I like both so much but hmmm he also wouldn't be held as accountable if he kept them secret#It's interesting as well - Gaster had a lot of growing pains with his experiments initially - I wonder how much Fell!Gaster struggled?#He always seems so placid and put together but surely Something breaks him - hard to avoid where and how he is now#Maybe not forever but just for a moment! A moment of weakness is all it takes after all ♪#All the more reason to have safeguards in place!#Like teaching the boys how to heal! :0 Fellplates!Gaster would be able to heal wouldn't he? But nobody else could haha#Would the boys be able to from the beginning? Or do Fell Monsters have to develop it? :0 Through inaction or through intention? Hm ♪#It'd be nice proof of concept if they could heal :) No time like the present!
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plinkcat-gif · 2 years
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ok here’s the ramble
#prepare for the most abstract ramble in ur life#hmmmm. bad at. ideas i think.#original ones. i think i’m just not good at thinking.#i think a lot ab like. my lack of deep understanding of a lot of media#i will look no further than ‘did i feel something? ok’#which is fine but also. i want to be able to engage in creating and deconstructing media in an interesting fun way#but i think a majority of my takes and ideas are from other people#there’s no original great ideas from me i think. do u understand#my brain is just. creative in the sense of combining different things tk make sense not coming up with new things#which ik can be a good thing!! but idk. i just. i wish i looked at media at a deeper level#i can’t because i’m bad at making those connections but#idk. idk man#and i know that learning to do these things is possible but it’s. really fucking hard for me unless i’m fed the connections and the ideas#my understanding of characters too. does not come from my own analysis#i take ideas from other people and make them into my own#which. is. fine. but. i would like to have my own original thoughts too sometimes#the gray matter in my brain is doing nothing for me rn DKSJDJDK#also i’m just not really a relatable person and so i can’t relate characters to me yk???????#idk man sometimes i’m rlly j like is it autism or is my iq just 2#my autism causes me to have no thoughts except pointing funny arrows at the blorbo and yelling ‘AAA’ about them#i don’t have the cool fun ‘i think they do x because y’ analysis skills#idk. irrelevant i’m tired#i’m not looking for advice or support or anything btw#i will not implement it because i am busy w other things xoxo
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hypewinter · 11 months
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Bruce carefully approached the child playing by himself in the park. The child giggled as they played with chalk, the sidewalk illuminated by a single street lamp.
"What are you drawing?" he said softly, not wanting to alarm them.
The child turned, revealing themself to be a little boy, no older than 5. He had raven black hair and icy blue eyes. Bruce could practically already hear Oracle snickering on the other end of the comms. She had probably already taken a snapshot of the boy through his visor and posted to the batkids group chat which contrary to popular belief, he did know about. Bruce sighed internally. He'd never hear the end of it when he got home. Especially if he had the kid in tow. Let's hope that didn't happen.
"Hello Batman!" a cheery voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I'm drawing a gargaggle!"
Bruce refocused on the boy who showed no signs of fear. He didn't even look surprised which was strange to say the least. "A gargaggle? Do you mean gargoyle?"
The boy furrowed his brows for a bit before piping up again. "I do! It's such a funny word. I can never get it right."
"I know the feeling," Bruce said, crouching down next to the boy. "Sometimes I struggle with words too."
The boy's eyes went wide as if he couldn't believe the Batman struggled with words. "Say-" Bruce started, "-it's pretty late out are your parents nearby?"
The boy shook his head. "No, I don't have parents," he said as he went back to doodling.
Ok Bruce don't freak out just yet. "Oh, then do you have a guardian of sorts? Like an older sibling, or another family member? Like an aunt or grandparent?"
The boy shook his head again. "Nope. Oh! But I do have a friend. She's very nice and gives me lots of gifts and special things."
Alright, he could work with that. Maybe this 'friend' was the kid's guardian and he just didn't realize it yet. That could happen if he was put in their care recently. Bruce cleared his throat to get the boy to look up at him again. "Do you know where your friend is right now?" he asked.
The boy smiled wide. " 'course I do! She's right over there!" As he spoke, he pointed to a clutter of trees, just to his left. "She really loves you and your family," he said. "She's shy though, so she hid when she saw you coming."
"I see," Bruce replied as he got up. "Well maybe I can convince her to come out." He walked over to where the boy had pointed and pulled apart the bushes, hoping to find a woman who he could talk to about the dangers of wandering around at night. Instead he found nothing.
Bruce heard a giggle from behind him. "That's not where she is silly," he said.
"But that's what you-"
"She's not in the bushes, she's in the shadows. She's really good at hide and seek you know. Once we were playing and she hid in the shadows. Then she snuck up behind me from another shadow. It was really unfair! I never win hide and seek or tag against her," the boy said, starting to pout.
She's in the shadows? A meta? And one with a similar power set to Signal no less. Hmmmm.
Bruce began making his way back to the boy. "Then where is she right now?" he asked.
The boy shrugged, as he returned to his drawing once again. "I don't know. Sometimes she leaves and doesn't return for days. Since you're around, I don't think she's coming back for a while."
Great, just great. He had managed to scare off a little boy's only guardian in the middle of the night. Good going Bruce. he chided himself. He crouched down next to the boy again. "Do you know how to get home? Maybe we can wait for your friend there."
The boy turned to Bruce again. "Sure do!" he said, puffing out his chest. " 'cause I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home on their own." he recited.
That was another point for the growing concerning information checklist. "Okay let's go wait for her then."
The boy's face dropped as he looked longingly at his gargoyle drawing. For a moment, Bruce thought he would have to bribe the kid with a lollipop but instead he held up his arms to be carried. "Okay," he said solemnly.
Bruce exhaled in relief as he picked up the boy. After pulling out his grappling gun he turned to the boy. "Where to...." Shit. Had he really forgotten to ask for the kid's name?
The boy in question didn't seem all too bothered by that fact. "Danny," he answered seamlessly. "And it's that way." Bruce aimed his grappling gun and off they went.
----
It took Danny all of two directions before he was out like a light. Bruce sighed, switching directions. Yep, he would truly never hear the end of it.
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gatorbites-imagines · 2 months
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Hmmmm 👁️🫦👁️ yandere Doflamingo X from male reader who develops stockholm syndrome (I'm it isn't scientific but it's helpful ;-;) and ends up slowly warming up to/falling in love with him?
Doffy can be sickly sweet, always holding reader close, lavishing them with praise and buying things for them, but when reader tried to escape or got -what Doflamingo thought- was too close to someone else, he gets kinda dark. Cue some kind of punishment followed by him acting all good cop and doting on reader.
Some fluff/smut peppered in if that's okay 😭
Hope this is alright and doesn't break any of the rules
Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo x male reader
Headcanons
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Tw for darker stuff ig? I love Doffy, hes my little crazy muffin. Probably not the best Stockholm syndrome, mainly just the reader being dumb and easily manipulated.
i feel like my obsession with doffys tongue is visible in this... exposing myself.
Doflamingo is known for being a master manipulator, so once he turns his attention to you and wants you for himself, he will have you one way or another. Theres a big chance you won’t even realize what’s happening until its way too late, and you are completely caught in his web of strings.
You had just been the average dock worker, working for one of the many companies working under The Joker in the underworld, smuggling all kinds of stuff. It was never your job to question what you were shipping, and not asking questions meant you got to stay alive.
You just happened to be at the wrong place at the same time. You just happened to be dumb enough to not have a sense of self preservation. You just happened to not recognize the 10 ft tall blonde in a pink feathery coat and goofy sunglasses. And you just happened to look so… cute.
You didn’t really have any friends on this island. It wasn’t the place you got close to anybody, and you sure as hell never trusted anybody, as everyone here was some kind of criminal. You were one of the few who wasn’t a blood thirsty psycho. You just had been given a bad hand in life and a lot of bad luck.
When the tall blonde started appearing near the docks on the regular, you didn’t question it. Questions should never be placed, and even though you had no idea who he was, everyone else seemed to fear him. So, no matter how handsome he was, you tried to stay out of his way.
You were a clumsy fool. It had resulted in a lot of punishment and beatings, but to Doflamingo, you were just so adorable. Like watching a little lamb running around thinking they were safe from the pack of blood thirsty wolves always circling.
When gifts started appearing in your dorm, as you were so low ranked in the system that you didn’t even have enough money for your own place, you didn’t know what to do.
You had never owned expensive things, so you knew nothing about the quality of things you were given. You didn’t understand just how expensive the shirt you were given was, or that the bracelets that looked a little too much like shackles cost more than someone like you would ever see in their life.
The gifts kept coming, and somehow your roommates disappeared, leaving the room all for you. One day when returning from the docks, it had even been redecorated. You almost had a heart attack, thinking someone else had moved in. But when you asked your superior, they had just glanced around nervously and said it was for you and to not question it.
Through all of this, Doflamingo watched your every move. From the moment you got up in the morning till you went to bed, and sometimes even as you slept.
Being who he was, Doflamingo had nothing against sneaking into your room as you slept, just so he could watch you. Or if he was feeling starved enough, he would lean down and kiss you, sometimes letting that long monster of a tongue slide into your mouth for just a small taste.
Before you knew it you were pretty much Doflamingos property. In the beginning you didn’t wear any of the fancy clothes or jewelry, not wanting to dirty any of it. But from one day to the next, all your old clothes went away, leaving you with only the clothes so expensive the majority of the world could only dream about owning it.
You didn’t understand why most of it bore a specific shade of pink, or that the symbol sewn into most of the clothes in one way or another was a jolly roger. You, in your oblivious mind, just thought it was a brand or print.
Doflamingo couldn’t help but feel pleased as everyone stared at you with fear and dread, avoiding you every chance they got, as everyone but you seemed to know you were his, and his alone.
You were right where he wants you, and little by little, Doflamingo would insert himself into your life. At first, you’d see him in passing, but soon you would see him every shift and you two would talk.
You were so concentrated with working that you didn’t notice how he always seemed to stare at you, and if he hadn’t worn sunglasses, you might have seen how he so rarely blinked, as if wanting to eat you up.
At some point he just happens to “offer you a job”, giving you the job of a lifetime. Doflamingo could almost have writhed in pleasure when you agreed, smiling so brightly and looking so deliciously stupid, to him at least.
All the many mysterious gifts you were given were moved, and soon you worked right under Doflamingo. Maybe as his assistant or something like that, some job where you would be right by him every day. Of course, you weren’t actually do any work that mattered, he just gave you fluffy paperwork that would be thrown out, since there was nothing of importance on them.
From then on you gave you his presents in person, leering and grinning when you became flustered and stuttered before giving a shy thanks.
Everyone in the donquixote family knew you were off limits as they saw the possessive look Doflamingo always gave you, or how he would pull you into his lap and claim there weren’t any more seats, using his strings to whisk whatever chairs were around away.
Working for Doflamingo, you ended up growing, what should I say, used to the treatment. You had come to expect his praise and lingering touches, or the gifts hed rain down on you. So when he kissed you the first time, you weren’t too surprised.
Sure you still blushed up a storm, but it had all seemed to lead up to this. To you, who still had no idea of Doflamingos darker side, thought he may just have been shy and expressed his feelings for you through gifts.
When you guys started “officially” dating, he got worse, or better, depending on who asks. I’m putting officially in quotations, as to Doflamingo you had always been his.
Forget about any type of work you were doing before, you were always seated in his lap now, wearing the clothes he picked out for you, and being a good little lover for him.
Dating Doflamingo also meant you quickly got used to gagging, since he’s the type of guy that always tries to shove his tongue down your throat, and with Doflamingo having the tongue he does, he actually succeeds in doing so.
Hes sickeningly sweet to you, fawning over you and piling praise on you, his large hands wandering and making you see stars whenever you are even a little bit in the mood. Its because of this it takes you so very long to realize what kind of monster he is.
The reveal was never meant to happen, but you somehow ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you got to see Doflamingos true colors. Seeing him tear someone apart with his strings, that large grin on his face, made you feel sick.
After that you grew distant, and Doflamingo pouted and kissed your face all over, trying to get him to tell you what was wrong. But you never told him, just shrinking away from him, as the seriousness of the situation finally seemed to dawn on you.
Even to you, who wasn’t the smartest person around by far, it all seemed to click into place. From your job, to your clothes, to how everyone seemed to avoid you, isolating you to under interact with Doflamingo.
You needed to get you, that’s what you became sure of. Its only because Doflamingo never thought you’d actually try to leave that you got the upper hand. In the end you didn’t even get off the island, but you were smart enough to get out of his base and to the docks where you had worked before.
But as you were about to board a ship to get outta there, strings seemed to cage in the entire island, like a birdcage. Doflamingo had realized you were gone, and he was pissed.
Before you knew it, conquerors haki covered the entire island, knocking you out almost immediately, but not before you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your feet, the reality of Doflamingos strength finally hitting you.
When you wake up again, you find yourself in Doflamingos bedroom, golden shackles similar to the bracelets you were given keeping you locked to the bed.
It takes you a moment to notice him, but when you do you almost throw up from the fear it causes. There in the corner sits Doflamingo, but for the first time since you’ve met him, he looks angry. No, he doesn’t look angry, he looks enraged.
He doesn’t even demand an answer from you as to why you tried to run. He just gets to his feet and approaches you, and for the first time his 10 feet of height scares you. But then he doesn’t something unexpected. He cradles your face in his hands and coos at you, treating you as if you were some kind of child or animal that had broken the rules, not because you wanted too, but because you were so very dumb you didn’t realize you broke them.
All these months of being with Doflamingo from morning till dawn as caused you to love him, its no secret. Its just a reaction of the human psyche, so part of you had been scared of disappointing him. It also makes your insides flutter at his cooing, even as he calls you a brainless stupid idiot who can’t think for themselves.
All his cooing and sugar sweet but cruel words makes you cry, making Doflamingo smirk when you sob into his chest, apologizing for running away. When you agree with him that you are stupid and can’t make decisions on your own, he knows he’s won. Well, he’s known he’s had you for months, but seeing you admit it is euphoric.
Doflamingo ends up holding you in his arms and cooing at you, pouting and sounding of so sweet as you cry, telling you he forgives you. But there must be consequences, and you have to be punished.
You’ve never been punished by Doflamingo before, so you have no idea what to expect. Knowing the kind of role Doflamingo wants to play, the punishment is probably something along the lines of overstimulation until you pass out, and when you wake up, he will do it again and again, repeating the process until he feels you’ve paid for your sins.
When hes strung you of everything you’ve got and you cant even think straight, he would pick you up and kiss you all over, praising you in that sickeningly sweet honey voice of his, carrying you to his personal bathroom.
Here he would get both of you into his large bathtub, where he would scrub your limp and hickey covered body dry as you whine and whimper, almost melting against his chest as his large hands massage all your sore muscles.
As you bathe, you most likely end up with him fucking your thighs, Doflamingo cooing in your ear that he will have mercy on your cute little holes for now, since they’re still so sensitive from your punishments. But next time he won’t be as lenient.
As he slides his shaft between your thighs, Doflamingo would slide his tongue down your throat again, smirking to himself as you jolt and twitch, still arching into his touch even as your body ached and burned from all the overstimulation.
After he finishes, he would praise you more before getting out of the bath, where he would dry you off in the softest of towels, before Doflamingo would tuck you both into bed. You would pass out immediately again, slumping against his chest as Doflamingo laughs, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.
He loves you, as much as someone like Doflamingo could love. And because he loves you, he owns you. That’s his logic at least. This also means you will never be allowed to leave, and no one will ever be allowed to take you away. And he will do everything in his power to make it a reality.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 5 months
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Hello!! I'm back for: more whining about TotK Quest Design Philosophy
I can't reblog a really great post I just saw for some reason (tumblrrrr *shakes my fist*), but hmmmm yeah not only do I completely agree, but I think I might expand on why I feel so much annoyance towards TotK's quest design philosophy at some point, because it does extend past the fundamentally broken setup of trying to punch a pseudo-mystery game on top of BotW's bones, where the core objective was always explicit and centered and stapled the entire world together; or the convoluted and inefficient way it tells its story through the Tears, the somehow single linear exploration-driven quest in the entire game.
Basically: I'm talking about the pointless back-and-forths. There were a lot of them, a lot that acted against the open world philosophy, and almost none of them ever recontextualized the environment through neither gameplay abilities nor worldbuilding nor character work.
I'll take two examples: the initial run to Hyrule Castle (before you get your paraglider), and then the billion back-and-forths in the Zora questline.
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I think?? the goal of that initial quest to Hyrule Castle is to familiarize you with the landmark, introduce the notion that weapons rot, tell you about the gloom pits, and also tell you that Zelda sightings are a thing? But to force any of these ideas on you before giving you a paraglider is, in my opinion, pretty unnecessary. I think the reason it happens in that order is to prevent Link from simply pummeling down to the gloom pit under Hyrule Castle and fight Ganondorf immediately while still introducing ideas surrounding the location; but genuinely, the Zelda sighting makes the next events even more confusing? Why wouldn't you focus all your priorities in reaching the castle if you just saw her there? Why lose time investigating anything else? Genuinely: what is stopping you from getting your paraglider and immediately getting yourself back there, plunging into the depths to try and get to the literal bottom of this? (beyond player literacy assuming this is where the final boss would be, and so not to immediately spoil yourself --which, in an open world game, you should never be able to spoil yourself by engaging with the mechanics normally, and if you can that's a genuine failure of design)
I think, personally, that you should not have been pointed to go there at all. That anything it brings to the table, you could have learned more organically by investigating yourself, or by exploring in that direction on your own accord --or, maybe you think Zelda is up there in the castle, and then the region objectives become explicitely about helping you reaching that castle (maybe by building up troops to help you in a big assault, or through the Sages granting you abilities to move past level-design oriented hurdles in your way, etc). Either way: no need to actually make you walk the distance and back, because the tediousness doesn't teach you anything you haven't already learned about traversal in the (extremely long, btw, needlessly so I would say) tutorial area.
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But to take another example, I'll nitpick at a very specific moment in the Zora Questline, that is honestly full of these back-and-forth paddings that recontextualize absolutely nothing and teach you nothing you didn't already know. The most egregious example, in my opinion, is the moment where you are trying to find the king, and you have to learn by listening in to the zora children who do not let you listening in.
So okay. I think Zelda is great when it does whimsy, and children doing children things guiding you is a staple of the series, and a great one at that. But here? It does not work for me on any level. Any tension that could arise from the situation flattens because nobody seems to care enough about their king disappearing in the middle of a major ecological crisis, except for children who are conveniently dumb enough not to graps the severity of the situation, but not stressed out enough that it could be construed as a way for them to cope about it and make anything feel more serious or pressing. It feels like a completely arbitrary blocker that isn't informed by the state of the world, doesn't do anything interesting gameplay-wise with this idea, doesn't build up the mood, and genuinely feels like busywork for its own sake.
This is especially tragic when the inherent concept of "the zora king has been wounded by what most zoras would believe to be Zelda and is hiding from his own people so the two factions do not go to war over it" has such tension and interest and spark that the game absolutely refuse to explore --instead having you collect carved stones who do not tell you anything new, splatter water in a floating island, thrud through mud who feel more like an inconvenience than a threat or, hey, listen to children playing about their missing king less than a couple of years after being freed from Calamity Ganon's menace. It feels like level designers/system designers having vague technical systems that are hard-coded in the game now, and we need to put them to use even if it's not that interesting, not that fun or not that compelling. It's the sort of attitude that a lot of western RPGs get eviscerated for; but here, for some reason, it's just a case of "gameplay before story", instead of, quite simply, a case of poorly thought-out gameplay.
Not every quest in the game is like this! I think the tone worked much better in the sidequests overall, that are self-contained and disconnected from the extremely messy main storyline, and so can tell a compelling little tale from start to finish without the budget to make you waddle in a puddle of nothing for hours at a time. It's the only place where you actually get character arcs that are allowed to feel anything that isn't a variation on "very determined" or "curious about the zonai/ruins", and where you get to feel life as it tries to blossom back into a new tomorrow for Hyrule.
But if I'm this harsh about the main storyline, it really is because I find it hard to accept that we do not criticize a structure that is at times so half-assed that you can almost taste employees' burnout seeping through the cracks --the lack of thematic ambition and self-reflection and ingeniosity outside of system design and, arguably at times, level design-- simply because it's Hyrule and we're happy to be there.
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There's something in the industry that is called the "wow effect", which is their way to say "cool" without saying "cool". It's basically the money shots, but for games: it's what makes you go "ohhhh" when you play. And it's great! The ascension to the top of the Ark was one of them --breathtaking, just an absolute high point of systems working together to weave an epic tale. You plummeting from the skies to the absolute depths of hell is another one; most of the dungeons rely on that factor to keep your attention; the entire Zelda is a dragon storyline is nothing but "wow effect" (and yeah, the moment where you do remove the Master Sword did give me shivers, I'll admit to this willingly) and so is Ganondorf's presence and presentation in the game --he's here to be cool, non-specifically mean, hateable in a non-threatening way and to give us a good sexy time, do not think about it too hard. What bothers me is that TotK's world has basically nothing to offer but "wow effect"; that if you bother to dig at anything it presents you for more than a second, everything crumbles into incoherence --not only in story, but in mood, in themes, in identity. This is a wonderfully fun game with absolutely nothing to say, relying on the cultural osmosis and aura of excellency surrounding Zelda to pass itself off as meatier than it really is. This is what I say when I criticize it as self-referential to a fault; half of the story makes no sense if this is your first Zelda game, and what little of that world there is tends to be deeply unconcerned and uncurious about itself.
And no, Breath of the Wild wasn't like this. Breath of the Wild was deeply curious about itself; the entire game was built off curiosity and discovery, experimentation and challenge (and I say this while fully admitting I had more fun with the loop of TotK, which I found more forgiving overall). The traversal in Tears of the Kingdom is centered around: how do I skip those large expanses of land in the most efficient and fun way possible. How do I automate these fights. How do I find resources to automate both traversal and fights better. It's a game that asks questions (who are the zonais, who is Rauru and what is his deal, what is the Imprisoning War about, where is Zelda), and then kind of doesn't really care about the answers (yeah the zonais are like... guys, they did a cool kingdom, Rauru used to run it, the Imprisoning War is literally whatever all you have to care about is who to feel sad for and who to kill about it and you don't get a choice and certainly cannot feel any ambiguous feelings about any of that, and Zelda is a dragon but we will never expand on how it felt for her to make such a drastic and violent choice and also nobody cares that's a plot point you could *remove* from the game without changing the golden path at all).
I'm so aggravated by the argument "in Zelda, it's gameplay before story" because gameplay is story. That's the literal point of my work as a narrative designer: trying to breach the impossibly large gap between what the game designers want to do, and what the writers are thinking the game will be about (it's never the same game). And in TotK, the game systems are all about automation and fusion. It's about practicality and efficiency. It's also about disconnecting stuff from their original purpose as you optimize yourself out of danger, fear, or curiosity --except for the way you can become even more efficient. And sure, BotW was about this too; but you were rewarded because you had explored the world in the first place, experimented enough, put yourself in danger, went to find out the story of who you used to be and why you should care about Hyrule. I'm not here to argue BotW was a well-written game; I think it was pretty tropey at large to be honest, safe for a couple of moments of brilliance, but it had a coherent design vision that rewarded your curiosity while never getting in the way of the clarity of your objective. There is a convolutedness to TotK that, to me, reveals some extremely deep-seated issues with the direction the series is heading towards; one that, at its core, cares more about looking the part of a Zelda game than having any deeper conversation about what a Zelda game should be.
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Black Light 13
Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.
Note: Thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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You don't go home. He might be big and scary but you're a grown woman. He made sure of that, didn't he? So you disappear into the shadows and lurk, watching the girls in their shimmering dresses and the men in their open collars line up for entry.
August stands on one side of the doors, Lee the other, and they go about their work. They stop pairs and groups to check cards and wave them inside, pointing others back onto the street. One man refuses and receives a violent shake from your man. You almost giggle as you peer around the chipped brick.
It slows down to only a few ambitious clubbers here and there. It must get boring just standing outside and staring at the street. No wonder he's so moody. The only thing exciting in his life is his own emotion. You can't judge, you don't have much going on either. You haven't even got a summer job. Wait, that's a brilliant idea.
You calm yourself. Tonight, you have another mission. You just have to be patient.
You smile and nearly bounce in place. Oh, you are excited. It will have to wait of course, but it's always nice to have a purpose.
You yawn as your phone jitters. You turn away to hide the glow and check the notifications. It's Hottie. Her ID makes your stomach churn. For some reason, the idea of seeing her again makes you nauseous. Almost as if she did, she'd see right through you. She's so smart and tough, and you... you let him follow you and then...
Oh but it's such a special moment, you just want to bask in the afterglow just a little longer.
-
It's early. Or late, depending on your point of view. Time has always been a conundrum to you. A line with no end.
You watch as the club empties out, last call ending with a deafening silence. The absence of the blaring music is louder than its thumping bass. You linger, rubbing your eyes, yawning once more.
You back up as girls teeter past drunkenly in their heels. You can't see the front doors but you know he won't leave right away. He has to make sure everyone's out. You wait until the coast is clear and go to peek out once more.
Your mind wanders, as it often does, and you think of that day when he came to get that couch. You remember his truck... Hmmmm.
You creep across the street like a cat. You stay close to the wall as you approach the club and dip around to the lot. There aren't many cars there. You turn on your phone light and squint; you think that's the right plate. It is the only truck in the lot.
You shut off the light and put your phone away. You hug your scrapbook under one arm and step up on the large tire. You haul yourself up and flip over the top, landing heavily as the book falls out of your grasp. You retrieve it as you gasp for breath and drag yourself into the corner. He won't check back here, besides it's too dark.
You lay folded against the metal and try not to fall asleep. It's tempting as it's nearly three in the morning. You hear a door clatter open and shut, voices tossed back and forth. A deeper voice met by a sheepish murmur. You hold your breath until they fade away and the door opens again.
Footsteps and nothing else. Boots mulching on the stray bits of gravel across the pavement. The truck chirps as it unlocks and shifts as the driver side door swings out. Oh, it's him!
You lock up and fight the urge to jump out and holler 'surprise'. In due time.
He turns the engine over and reverses out with a sharp veer. You're jostled by the movement as he puts his foots down on the pedal. Oh god, he's an aggressive driver.
You're wide awake as he takes corners with no caution. He is consistent. You latch onto your scrap book, not wanting it to slide around and give you away. The cool night blows over you and sends a shiver up your spine.
Finally, he slows, coming to a halt after another jolting veer. You wait and listen as he gets out, grumbling in that cute way he does. You sit up and edge over to the other side. You watch his shadow and push yourself back as he passes.
As he turns between the next row of cars, you scramble to hope out of the truck bed and use the bumper to lower yourself down. You run after him, puffing as he walks steadily towards the apartment building. You're caught off guard as he turns and catches you by the throat. You squeak and drop the scrap book, clasping onto his thick wrist.
"Ach, Poo-kie," you croak out, "it's just me--"
He grunts and squeezes tighter before relenting, instead grasping the front of your shirt, "what are you doing?"
"Um, duh, I came to see you. My boyfriend--"
"Stop," he hisses, shaking you. "You're really starting to get on my nerves."
"Hey, don't be so rude," you hit his chest, "I came all the way out here in the middle of the night--"
"How did you get here? How do you know where I live?" He snarls.
You're silent. The truth might not help your case.
"Lucky guess?"
"Goddamn it, what--" he rasps, "you are insane. You are going to get yourself hurt, little girl. I told you, we only fucked."
"Well..." you bat your lashes, sliding your touch down his forearm, "we can do it again..."
"Huh?" He recoils, letting you go as you stagger on your feet.
"Yeah!" You clap your hands, "maybe this time it won't hurt that bad."
He's quiet, only letting out a deep exhale.
"You need to forget what happened--"
"How can I?" You counter, "it was my first. You're my first." Your voice grits as a swell of heat flows up from your stomach, "I won't forget."
"I'm telling you to go--"
"You said you love me," you pout.
"You made me--"
"And you made me do... do that thing," you accuse right back, "you don't just get to walk away."
Silence, again. He rolls his shoulders and crosses his arms, his silhouette looming even larger.
"You should," he growls, "walk away before this gets messy."
"I'm not going to," you say, lip trembling.
He shakes his head and drops his arms. He steps closer and reaches for your shoulders, gripping tightly as he leans in.
"You don't learn easy, do you?" he sneers and lets a hand snake up to the back of his neck. He twists you around, pinching meanly as he marches you ahead of him. "I'll fucking teach you.”
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sporesgalaxy · 3 months
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I know this is something u were probably asked before but as the guy that has a good relationship with art....how do you do that??? I mean I get that this question is vague but how do you not care if it looks bad? Do you just?? Keep on going till it looks like you want it to look? Despite the agonies? You seem like you enjoy talking abt this thats why im asking, dont feel the need to answer if u dont wanna
hmmmm. You know, I don't think about the agonies much these days. But it's not that I don't care. I guess I've become a freak who sees beauty in the agonies, sorta? It's kind of complicated! I will do my best to explain!
First of all, I know that I have the unfair advantage of having no ambition. I don't have a goal for my art besides making art when I feel like it. That makes it easy to be less judgemental-- I remember having a rockier relationship to my own art during the time when I thought I would make it my career.
This is why I like talking about my perspective, though!! I think it's important to try not to let yourself be consumed by self-criticism as an artist, even if self-criticism is necessary for you, and hopefully my carefree way of looking at things can help balance things out haha.
Anyways, ambition or not-- and I know how this sounds but bear with me-- art doesn't ever look bad.
(Barring ethically harmful art, ugh, I don't want to get into ethics so just-- surely you know what I mean!!!)
Art gets a lot less stressful if you can tell yourself that no art is bad, and remember the reasoning behind that until you really believe it. It isn't a fast process, but it's very worth the work.
The truth is that art either looks how you want it to look, or it looks different from the way you want it to look, but both are ultimately neutral. You CAN make art that looks different from what you wanted, that you still feel pleased with.
When art looks different from how you wanted, the gut reaction you have is often to call it bad or get frustrated. And of course it's frustrating! Maybe you feel it's not as effective at communicating something as you'd hoped, or you feel it's not as visually impactful as you imagined...but it's important to remember those things are only your perception. Not an objective fact. And art is a two-way street! A communication between creator and observer! And communication is really weird and complicated.
•••
Other people's perception of your work won't ever be exactly the same as yours. Sometimes this is desireable and sometimes it isn't! Maybe your art will communicate the thing better to someone than anything they've ever seen-- even if a more effective version could theoretically exist, the "imperfect" version that actually exists and communicates is all that matters to the observer. Or, maybe a feature that turned out exactly how you wanted it to will fly completely over an observer's head, and not have the effect you wanted at all. A lot of the time, you'll never even know.
An artist can NEVER fully control an observer's perspective, so at a certain point you have to live with what you have. You already do this, to some degree, if you have ever EVER decided to stop working on a piece of art and share it. You can always keep adding to something. You can always keep editing. But sometimes, you stop. And perfection doesn't exist, so when you stop it must be because the art is good enough for now. And nothing about "good enough" is objective!
And is that really so bad? Surely people who grow fruit understand that a fruit which is smaller than they imagined can still feed somebody-- that at the very least it will feed bugs and microorganisms and be useful as fertilizer to grow more apples. Your art still means something, still accomplishes something, is still worth making whether it turns out how you imagined or not.
A lot of art is learning when to quit and move on. As a habitual perfectionist, this was something I had to learn early, to stop myself from erasing holes into every piece of paper I drew on.
There's this rule I was taught in middle school drama class: if you fuck up, act like you didn't fuck up. The audience doesn't have your script memorized, so odds are they won't have any idea you fucked up unless you tell them. Other art works the same way. No one knows what you wanted to make but you. And more importantly, a "perfect" version of your art doesn't exist (no "perfect" version of anyone's art exists, or ever will).
The version you made exists, so you have to find what's worth loving about that version. You have found what's worth loving in the imperfect art of others many times. Many observers will treat your art the same way you treat others' art. Why not treat your own art that way, too?
It sounds really REALLY corny, but I try not to think of this as embracing "mistakes." I think of it as celebrating coincidences.
I really really like coincidences. I like that every circumstance wasn't guaranteed to happen, that everything comes down to chance. I think all the little random things are beautiful because they turned out however they did, and not any of the millions of other ways things might have turned out. It's a coincidence that my genes expressed the way they did. It's a coincidence that my parents met in college. It's a coincidence that my oldest friend and I both got to middle school early every day, and stayed close even when we didn't share any classes.
Art is full of coincidences! I try to draw a straight line. The line does not turn out straight, because of the way my hand is shaped and the way my muscles contracted, because my body is not exactly like anyone else's in the world. No one else would have drawn that slightly not-straight line just exactly how I did. It's mine, and it's crookedness is what makes my art mine. Okay, maybe it's a little too crooked for what I want this time-- I'll erase it and draw a new crooked line at a bit of a different angle. There we go, I like that! Now it's my beautiful, irreplaceable crooked line! And the ghost of its predecessor guides the eye just so, and no one else's two crooked lines would guide your eye the same way, only mine! Isn't that nice on its own? Just to have made something that can't ever be replicated? To have made something no one else has ever made before?
You can also apply this in a bit less dreamy and more practical ways, I promise haha.
For example...I've never been a canvas flipper, as a digital character artist. I don't mirror my canvases to see if they still look preportional to me from either direction. I also don't usually draw visual novel character sprites that need to look good mirrored in either direction to serve their function, so it's never been a practical concern of mine.
I consider many kinds of distortion on a character I've drawn to be a good part of the visual flow of the image. Like a smear frame in animation, distoriton in the right places can make character art look dynamic and energized because it can lead the eye through a certain visual flow over the form of the character. If I were to flip the canvas, that eye-leading effect might hit differently because my American eye is used to reading from left to right-- perhaps it doesn't feel as "smooth" going in the opposite direction. This doesn't mean I need to change the distortion necessarily, it just means I prefer not to flip the canvas.
Often, these distortions aren't intentional. They're a coincidence of how my muscles move as I draw, and the areas my left-to-right American eyeballs instinctively pay more attention to. But the effect is still desireable to me. So, happy coincidence!
I think...that's the best I've got for now? Feel free to ask for clarification. I hope it's not total nonsense!
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apollosgiftofprophecy · 3 months
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So I was reading your Athena & Apollo headcanons and it made me think of a hc to help fill a (very mild but infinitely frustrating) plot hole in the books! (Well, plot hole is stretching it, it’s not even a plot dent, more like a detail inconsistency that affects Literally Nothing but it has driven me crazy since I read mcga)
The detail in question: Why are all of Athena’s kids blonde and (possibly) curly-haired, when Annabeth is said to get her hair from her dad and Athena has never actually appeared as a blonde? (Aside from that time in Sea of Monsters but tbf that was a hallucination so possibly not accurate). It’s bothered me for a while, because Athena doesn’t Do romance and therefore it wouldn’t really make sense for her to have a Type, right? Why would someone attracted to mortal’s intellect care about their hair color? I guess I just figured she’d been blonde for a while and decided to go brunette later, but the “dumb blonde” stereotype has been around for a long time, having been especially prevalent since the ‘50s, and I can’t imagine Athena to want to be seen as anything less than the smartest person in the room.
But then your hcs got me thinking… we know that Athena is very proud, but she’s also deeply insecure. Like, “she got made fun of for playing the flute One Time by two goddesses known to be bitchy that she already did not get along with and threw it into the woods with a curse and refused to pick it up again (until Apollo coaxed her to)” insecure. And she doesn’t have very many friends, does she? Apollo’s kind of all she has, other than mortals, but her relationship with mortals is that of a devotee and a god. Reverence is not the same thing as connection. But Apollo, who is in a similar boat to her, makes connections so easily! Even at his worst, he makes people like him against both his and their will. Even his relationships with his devotees were… well they were messy lbr but they were also very genuine, most of the time. There was something more, there.
So, all this rambling to say: what if the reason Athena’s kids all look so similar is because Athena chose to look like Apollo? I don’t think she chose to act like him, but. I dunno. Maybe she thought mortals would like her better if she looked more like her pretty, popular brother. She’s always had to listen to people, mortals and immortals alike, praise her brother for just about everything while she had to fight for even a scrap of respect. Maybe she thought she could absorb at least a little of that something that makes people genuinely like him. That something that draws her to him again and again. Maybe it’s like armor, pulling on her brother’s face. If they don’t like her, it’s not because it’s her, right? Apollo’s been driving everybody crazy lately, anyway… (and yet, he’s still more beloved than her…)
And that ALSO feeds into my preexisting headcanons about Apollo looking like a Chase, which is fun!! (I think his modern godly form looks more similar to Magnus but Lester has a face/hair texture that is really, really similar to annabeth’s! So when he bashes the two forms together he makes the two of them look even more like siblings because he’s basically a bridge between the two of them, lol. But his old godly form looked strikingly similar to Annabeth in a lot of ways… hmmmm.)
Anyway it’s kind of a convoluted hc and once again falls into the “Apollo is the specialist little guy in the WORLD” mindset but I!!! Just like it!!!! When siblings are weird and messy!!! And admiration gets mixed up with jealousy and genuine affection is twisted by circumstance and time!!! And identity issues!!! And loneliness!!! It’s latching on to someone and having them be your whole world when you know that you’re just a small part of theirs!!! AUGHHH. Weird fucked up Olympus dynamics my belovedddd
HELLO LONG ASK
I never noticed this before, but this explanation seems Interesting👀
And don't worry, this fandom basically goes "AND THIS IS WHY APOLLO IS [insert description here" ALL the time XD
BUT YES THE COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP EAT THEM UP WE ARE EATING THEM TOGETHER!!! :D
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demonslayedher · 3 months
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Things that went through my mind while watching this episode: --Gotouge must had been in A Mood when writing these chapters, and the animators were probably like, "sweeeet! I love weeks like this!" with those silly and simple scenes of Tanjiro Being a Dork feat. Kotetsu, feat. Kotetsu/Haganezuka/Kanamori, feat. Genya, feat. Nezuko, feat. Nezuko/Muichiro.
--but then partway through they probably dragged themselves back to more detailed serious work like Hantengu dragging himself to work. Sniffle, sniffle, fine, they expect so much out of us, fine, here's all the bone and muscle fibers of Karaku taking shape from a head still falling through the air.
--Speaking of animation details--the glow on Muichiro's eyes as he runs through the dark forest? Nice. So nice to see him using a sword modeled after the one which his "ancestor" used, even if he did steal it off a doll modeled off his "ancestor." (Side note--wouldn't it be fun to see the Tokitou twins with inherited memories?)
--Also, I am pretty forgiving of the CG fish (of anything, I was impressed). They didn't totally meld with the 2D environment, but for what Gotouge gave them to work with, they moved them around in a pretty satisfyingly believable way.
--So anyway, back to this first round of Tanjiro being a dork, I love the range of emotion we get him in this episode, when he gets to relax and just be a teenage boy. SWORD, COOL!! I can has it? I no can has it. Panic-and-protect-the-child mode. Haganezuka-san was working hard for meeee? Panic-and-protect-the-child mode. Haganezuka-san said not to peek. You think I can go peek? Friendship senbei! Tooth. I'll bet I can figure out how to braid Nezuko's hair like Kanroji-san's! Zzzzz. Oh, hahaha, Tokitou-kun, surely you'd never attack me in my sleep! Now I can go peek on Haganezuka-san like I was totally going to anyway even though he told me not to. Hmmmm. Oh, wait, what, that's a demon, nevermind--
--It's just so nice seeing him be some annoying random guy sometimes instead of just The Eldest Son.
--So, Haganezuka-san. It's not just that he was physically training himself to smith a better sword for Tanjiro, but he in fact had already made a new one, but he didn't feel it was good enough. Perhaps he spent some of those nasty letters in his initial outrage at seeing the chipped sword, but then after being scolded for making something that would chip so bad in the first place, he felt dissatisfied with the sword he tried to make better, and maybe some of those "I have no sword for you" letters were just a way of expressing "I suck at this (because I am a perfectionist)"?
--More Haganezuka-san: He was essentially raised by Tecchin because his parents couldn't handle his fits when he was a child (which is very, very sad), but he practices a sword polishing technique that has been handed down through the Haganezuka family (and in real life, sword polishing is recognized as a skill totally separate from smithing (though smithing does involve some preliminary polishing stages), so I love that a later Taisho Secret shows him doing finger push-ups because yeah, he's gonna need those fingers ready for a lot of the detail work in the polishing process). While I would also love to see "inherited memories" explored more in Haganezuka, this more likely means that he learned from the father who essentially abandoned him. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in that workshop.
--But also... this three day polishing process which has killed people for how extreme it is. Tanjiro, if he says not to bother him, please, don't both him. Have you learned nothing about the risks of upsetting Haganezuka-san? And this is of course not endearing you to Genya, who at this point still has every reason to find you annoying. You keep giving him reasons to dislike you, too.
--Classic Muichiro-Nezuko Head Tilt
--I wonder if Kotetsu lured Nezuko away with toys so that she wouldn't interfere with Kotetsu nearly killing her brother
--But also, mad respect to Kotetsu, he really was doing his best against that fish
--Might I just say, that little gasp Muichiro has when he remembers Tanjiro's words? So elegantly subtle in the sound design. --Interesting that Gyokko does not appreciate the flesh of the swordsmiths, even though eating strong people would presumably be nutritious. Hard to digest? Maybe not as nutritious as a Breath-using Pillar? But also, what with "Kakushaku-no-Ko" culture among those who use fire, perhaps all their work with fire (which demons show a distinct dislike of), or more directly with the metal of Nichirin blades is part of what makes them distasteful?
--My favorite Hantengu form is his basic sniveling "woe is me, I'm so weak" old dude form, because it's so ironic. He is the Zenitsu of demons.
--And bam, we already have his full set of four! That didn't take long at all. Also, Tanjiro is now back in The Eldest Son mode and Nezuko is in oh-yeah-she-is-A-DEMON mode, that didn't take long either. Oh, and Genya has already sustained what should be a fatal injury. That also did not take long.
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dark-frosted-heart · 2 months
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The Fairytale Keeper's Final Assessment - Roger (Premium End)
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This is the 1st anniversary event and is in his POV.
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
Roger: Kate, I’d die of boredom without you. I’d miss you. So stay as a fairytale keeper.
Kate: Roger…
Roger: So, what are you going to do, Kate? Continue being a fairytale keeper? Or are you going to say farewell-to me.
Kate: I…
Roger: How about I give you an extension. I’ll wait for you at Crown Castle ‘til midnight. If you don’t want to be a fairytale keeper anymore, then you don’t have to come back.
Kate: Don’t need to come back…?
Roger: Yeah. I’ll just write “NO” on the agreement letter and that’ll be it. Alright, I’m heading out. Make a choice you won’t regret.
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Alfons: So, you just abandoned Miss Kate? You’re the worst. Just like how the hunter abandoned Snow White. You’re a heartless, muscly glasses-wearing walking egoist!
When I got back to the castle, I grabbed Al, told him the whole story over drinks and he fired complaint after complaint.
Roger: You got some nerve hurling insults at me while ignoring how much of an ass you are yourself. Kate wouldn’t have been able to make a choice if I was there. And if I stayed, I would’ve been in trouble.
Alfons: Don’t tell me you were going to bring her back by force?
Roger: Hmmmm………?
Alfons: Oh this is not good. You’ll always be an egoist.
Ice clinked in Al’s glass of whiskey.
Roger: Al. I’m definitely egotistical, but that doesn’t mean my head’s empty. We’re all cursed, part of Crown, and killers. It’s a parade of misery and disaster. It would’ve been better if she stayed uninvolved.
Alfons: Well, I agree with you on that point.
Roger: And yet… There’s lots of things you can’t give up on. I’m sure the same can be said for you.
Alfons: … I don’t know about that. My glass is empty, so I shall be taking my leave. I hope that losing Miss Kate will make you fix your ways.
Roger: Haha, thanks.
How much time’s passed since Al left?
It’s not even because of my abnormally sharp hearing, but the clock sounds really loud.
(30 minutes ‘til midnight)
(What if Kate doesn’t come back?)
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I’d definitely miss her a lot.
And then rationalize it as “it is what it is”.
(As we get older, we get a whole lot more decisions to make)
Five minutes ‘til midnight.
—The sound of Kate’s voice and footsteps reach my ears.
Kate: Roger!
(Ah…)
Roger: “Welcome back” Kate.
I looked up at the clock and saw that it was exactly midnight.
Kate: You must have felt a little worried. About how I might not have come back.
Roger: Well, maybe a little.
Kate: I was troubled. I mean…I have friends, and I was pretty useful as a postal worker.
Roger: Hm, I see. So why’d you come back with Liam?
Kate’s eyes dart side to side.
Kate: Well…um…it just happened that way.
Roger: I heard something like “tell it to Roger straight!”
Kate: !
Roger: Well?
Kate: The truth is…I couldn’t stand being alone so I went to see Liam at the Scala Theatre. I hung out with him…to kill some time.
Roger: Why?
Kate: Because…
Roger: Because?
Kate: Because…I wanted you to think about me of course.
Roger: …
Kate: Saying what you want, leaving everything to me… I…You know there was a chance we would've never seen each other again, right?
Roger: Yeah
Kate: You knew and yet you left just like that.
Kate started tearing up.
Kate: I thought…you’d want to spend more time with me.
(Really…this girl)
The day I met Kate, I tried to draw a line between us and have her live wisely.
A brief time at Crown as a fairytale keeper should’ve been enough.
(And yet)
~~ Flashback ~~
Kate: I still don’t have an answer on whether your betrayal was evil or not. Therefore— Can I not continue to think about it while being by your side? 
~~ End flashback ~~
Kate said that and tried to get to know me and Crown.
(Nothing’s changed since that day…)
(No, she’s been chasing after me incessantly)
(Ah, damn it…)
(Everything about her’s so cute. It can’t be helped)
I drew closer to Kate and pulled her into a hug.
Kate: Ro…ger?
Roger: I still want to be with you. Let’s stay together, Kate.
Kate: I’m not doing this because you told me to. I’ve…made my decision.
Roger: Pfft, hahaha. Nice. I love a woman who can think for herself. But, do you really know what this means? If we’re together, then that means you’re gonna be at my mercy.
Kate: Bring it on. I still want to know more about you and Crown. Besides…I still haven’t proved that love exists yet.
For me, love’s something that has no proof. So I don’t have any faith in it.
What we call love is a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.
That’s my definition of love—Kate wants to prove me wrong.
(It's like saying you stayed for me, isn't it?)
Whether Kate’s affections can be called love is something yet to be seen.
Roger: In the meantime, let’s kiss.
Kate: ……Huh?
Roger: Didn’t you hear me? Kiss. Kissing. You like that, don’t you? Kissing and being affectionate.
Kate: O-of course not!
Roger: I thought you really liked me if you kept chasing after me.
Kate: That’s because…it’s my duty as a fairytale keeper.
Roger: Such a hard worker. I’ll talk to Victor about giving you a raise.
Kate looked at me in annoyance.
(You’re so cute)
Roger: Well then, let’s start with this “again” form here. Let’s get along, Kate.
I held out my hand and Kate grasped it in hers.
Kate and I are connected.
Once again, with a certain temperature.
Fairytale Keeper’s Letter of Agreement From here on, Kate will continue her role as the fairytale keeper. Because she’s a valuable dog, or assistant, in my research on curses. Beyond that, I’m simply curious -Roger Barel
(Kate’s POV)
It was a few days after I chose to continue my role as the fairytale keeper.
I had suddenly received a notice from Her Majesty the Queen. Kate, I’ve heard much about your work. Thank you for everything. Therefore, I would like a reliable woman to assess something. Whether Roger, who is cursed, is suitable for Crown.
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yongislong · 1 year
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love language + dreamies.
genre: fluff and domestic! nonidol!dreamies but tbh its not really implied, i just love college au nct lol
note: tysm for requesting anon! i hope this is what you wanted AHH and i hope you all enjoy, kinda proofread
mark... honestly i feel like a mix of words of affirmation, quality time and physical touch. he likes to show you how much you mean to him and he's not afraid to tell you often. also likes spending time with you, even if it's time spent doing nothing, it's still meaningful to him because he has you there with him. as for the physical touch, i think i've said this before but he is touchy just, without realizing it lol. his skin to skin affection would be so subconscious to him. he likes receiving affection in words and physical forms but also likes giving it! sometimes he doesn't realize he's being touchy lot of the time, it's just this pull that he has towards you and he can't seem to shake it
renjun... hmmmm acts of service? he gets told on a daily basis how amazing, wonderful and pretty he is but when someone actually does something about it is when i think he finds it more meaningful, so i feel like that would trickle into the way he shows you how much he loves you as well. would want to do things for you and would honestly also buy or make you things that remind him of you just because words can only do so much in his mind. he likes quality time a lot, any time he gets to spend with you is nice. would prefer to do something alone though, like just the two of you spending time together in the privacy of your super cute apartment :) really good listener and gives good advice with whatever issues you may be going through at the time
jeno... oh gosh his is a little hard, i think physical touch? he's said before he's quite shy so i think once you guys are established he would find it easier to show you how he feels rather than tell you because he strikes me as someone who may probably have a hard time expressing how they feel through words. likes squeezing your hips and poking your butt and waist lol. acts of service is a big one though omg. he would find so much pride in doing things for you. knows he's tall and strong so he uses that as an advantage when you need certain things and it makes him feel pretty wanted and needed yknow?? likes to be a big man muaha. quality time is also important to him i feel. likes just talking with you. he's a great listener but sometimes he stares for too long and you have to snap him out of his trances pft. likes showing you off
haechan... physical affection 100% i feel like thats a given with him LMAO. if he had it his way? OHHHHH, he would have you glued to his side 24/7. quality time is also something he enjoys, i feel like he is such a movie buff tbh, from watching a movie series or a full tv show would be really enjoyable for him because its ALSO an excuse to wrap your arms around his waist hehe. likes giving gifts sometimes but it HAS to be perfect especially if its for you. but yeah, physical touch is a big one for him. he just, likes you so much and finds a lot of joy in being able to touch, peck and hug you whenever he wants. likes running his hands on your back, shoulders, lower stomach, head, neck, etc, y'all get the jist!!
jaemin... okay so physical touch LIGHTLY, because sometimes he just can't help himself but, he usually shows his love through words of affirmation and gift giving! absolutely adores telling you how much he loves you and how beautiful, lovely and amazing he thinks you are and he is SO good at articulating what he wants to say to you and how he wants to say it. never fails to leave you flustered and fulfilled. it would be so hard for you to not feel loved with how much he spoils you haha. always buys you random knick knacks and clothes/accessories he thinks would look good on you. and listen, idk if showing off is a love language but he loves showing you off like jeno i think it goes along with words of affirmation for him. very gentle when it comes to physical touch btw :") just overall very kind and considerate, treats you like a doll
chenle... gift giving obviously as well as quality time. like i've said before, he's pretty clingy with you but i think giving you things and having the ability to work hard and make money makes him all the more inclined to want to give you everything you want and more. really really enjoys being able to have you all to himself. adores the idea of being domestic with you and just doing something in silence and being in each others presence. calms him so much and he feels he really should give you his full attention not because its something he has to do but something he really values and wants to be able to do for you. can be clingy sometimes but is mostly a quieter pda type of guy. you can never say no to him buying you things though HAHA he'll always find away, fills him with a lot of pride that he feels/proves he can provide for you
jisung... words of affirmation and acts of service. just likes being able to be seen as an adult. he's been around people older than him all his life and constantly in the state of being babied so he would like to be able to be seen as someone who could do valuable things for his partner. which is why he's always trying to help you! gives good advice and gives an even better hand around the house PFT. i mean c'mon he's so lanky and lean and obedient. so smiley whenever he sees you need something or you come to him for help. but also never wants you to think you can't do things for yourself just because he has a need to be helpful yknow? so he never fails to tell you how well you're doing and how much he loves you. has a hard time being vulnerable but it gets better since he knows you won't ever judge him for being shy about professing how highly he thinks of you always
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fungalittleweirdo · 2 months
Note
Maybe one one of the brothers(rise) with a crush on reader but hears from Casey that resder marries/falls in love with someone else/doesn't make it.Whatever you feel like.ALSO LETS GO NEW WRITING BLOCK‼️‼️‼️
cyrill my friend i am going to feed you so well here
hmmmm
donatello x male reader, set a couple years after kraang-- the good timeline
i asked my friends at college to pick a turtle and a gender so i got that lol
i'll get more organised as i write more on this blog trust meee </3
enjoy!
Communicate With Your Lab Partner, Donatello!
"I see the way you look at him, Donnie."
He blinks, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head with an awkward laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about Casey, it's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about him lately. I hope he and his eventual partner are happy together, that's all. I want my lab partner to be happy." Donatello's face contorts for a moment before it finally lands on an off-putting smile, "Anything but could affect the efficiency of which our labs are conducted."
Casey shakes his head and looks away, "Now I regret telling you about them." The time traveller sighs, standing up to frown at the softshell mutant. Donatello waves him off and urges him out of his lab, muttering about how Casey has nothing to worry about and that he would carry on like normal. But that very night he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his lab, blinking away the blurring of his vision. Donnie reaches for his phone without adjusting his posture, holding it above his face to check the time.
2:42 am.
He yawns, scrolling up to find his lab partner had texted him a funny picture of some cat meme. Donnie's lips curl up and his chest blooms with warmth as he reacts to the photo with a laughing face emoji, then responds with a meme of his own. His friend reacts with a straight faced emoji, responding with you're not funny, stop pretending you are. Donatello rolls his eyes, continuing to talk to him as the hours pass by, and when he checks the time again it is seven in the morning. It's time for the spiny softshell to head to bed even though he was meant to stay up all night regardless.
Lab Partner (7:02 AM): I know you should be heading to sleep now, but before you go, what's the weather going to be like Friday night?
Donatello sits up straight and winces as his neck's pain receptors send massive signals to his tired turtle brain, screaming at him to go to bed. He opts to shrimp over his keyboard as he checks his weather prediction algorithm, finding that there would be a seventy percent chance of rain over the tri-state area. He texts the extensive information to his lab partner, then asks him why he needs to know.
Lab Partner (7:11 AM): I asked this person out to go to Central Park expecting it to be sunny because of this week's forecast
Lab Partner (7:11 AM): But I trust your weather algorithm a lot more
Lab Partner (7:12 AM): Especially since they let Warren Stone back on the air
Delivered (7:12 AM): Scoff, any weatherman who associates themselves with that literal worm cannot be trusted for the weather. You came to the right turtle.
Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Yeah, I know I did
Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Get some rest, okay Don? I love you <3
Donatello's heart skips a beat and he stares at the screen for a moment, blinking at the three silly little words he somehow feels like he stole. Just for a moment, I could pretend... he thinks, pursing his lips as he responds in kind, then gets up from his chair to turn everything off in his lab, save for the emergency low lights. He begins heading toward his bedroom with his phone off in his hand.
The softshell is now lying awake, staring at his ceiling as he lay in bed fantasising of silly things he thought could never happen. It's bothering him, he knows it, but he doesn't feel like paying a visit to Dr. Feelings. His hand's gentle caresses on his plastron remind him of how his lab partner would hug him from behind and sway with him as he works, even though it always distracts him for a moment. The stim always brings him down to earth when he is in too deep in his work. Donatello misses the way he nuzzles into him when he's sleepy, spending days working on something together and letting him sleep on the air mattress he has set up in the corner. He misses the opportunities in which his lab partner would ask for him to sleep beside him, curling up in each other's arms.
Now that he thinks about it, Donatello and his lab partner are not strictly platonic, the way they interact with each other is quite intimate. The turtle blushes at the memory of his lips carefully planting kisses on his lab partner's head, and him doing the same. It was kismet, the way they met, since Donnie's lab partner was a former member of the Purple Dragons. Kendra let him go after he started spending too much time with the softshell rather than just spying on him. He risked so much for me, Donatello thinks, wringing his hands as he blinks away his exhaustion. He decides to take matters into his own hands, falling asleep with an uneasy feeling in his gut.
~
Donnie's lab partner wakes up with a start after a four hour sleep, promising Leo he would sleep more, then berating him for staying up late too. He makes himself a small breakfast and goes through his phone, then gets ready for his free day. Donnie calls him and he answers with a dramatic groan of annoyance. "Don, I swear, go back to sleep," he starts packing a bag to go out while listening to Donnie whine over the phone.
"I know! I know! You told me to rest and I already did. But you didn't sleep enough either so you're a hypocrite. I... wanted to talk to you about something."
"Can it wait? You need to sleep, dude."
"No, it can't."
Donnie seems to take a shaky breath, then speaks again.
"I need to tell you something important and I can't wait another day to tell you."
The mutant's lab partner sighs, then nods, even if 'Tello couldn't see him make the gesture.
"Yeah, I'll be over tonight. As long as you rest."
"I promise... I love you."
He pauses, the words ringing in his ears, bouncing around in his head like a screensaver avoiding the corners of its device. He's never heard Donnie say those words out loud before. He's never said them to him either, so the initiative shocks him into silence. Before the boy could respond, Donnie hung up the call and he stands in the kitchen with toast crumbs in his palm and marmalade on his fingers.
The difference between saying it out loud and sending it over text is made apparent in the boy's head, a realisation taking over as his heart beat faster in his rib cage. Oh... no... Being Donnie's lab partner has been fun these past few years, especially developing a close friendship like the one they have, but he finally realises how he must have come across. I should get my errands done quick to be at the lair in a timely manner, he thinks, washing his hands and grabbing his things to step out of his apartment, locking the door and starting his day.
~
Donatello is bleary-eyed and yawning to the point where his throat is dry. He stumbles into the kitchen to look for a glass of water, asking S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to serve him some hydration. He gulps it down instantly and slams the glass down on the counter, then jumps at the voice in the corner of the kitchen.
"Happy to see you're drinking water, 'Tello."
An awkward smile plasters itself upon his face as he turns toward his lab partner, looking him up and down. He is wearing comfortable clothes as if he plans to stay a while. His tail twitches before he stops it from wagging in excitement.
"Ah, my favourite friend! I... I expected you to come to the lair much later."
"I can see that," He raises an eyebrow as he gives Donatello a once over, noting the black sweatpants he donned. "Cold?" The boy's arms snake their way around Donatello's waist and he jumps at the contact, nudging him away with a robotic laugh.
"Cold? Scoff! Who said I was cold?" Donatello now feels awake enough to serve himself his own water, watching it fill his glass as his friend stood beside him curiously. Then he gulps the entire glass down again.
"You usually wear clothes down here when you're cold. You don't opt for pyjamas like your brothers either, so you must be cold."
"Oh dear lab partner, how dare you use your observational skills on me."
Said lab partner chuckles and leans against the fridge. "You also don't reject my physical advances toward you... Is today a bad tactile sensory day?" He taps in a pattern against the countertop, signalling to Donatello that he is mildly worried. The softshell sighs and puts the glass down in the sink, stretching and cracking his limbs. He inhales through his nose, then exhales cool air that gradually calms him down.
"I am afraid of what I want to talk about."
The boy's eyes widen, his face depicts concern, and he moves on to sit on the stool beside the rack holding the pots and pans. Donatello goes to sit on the counter across from him. A couple beats of silence pass as the two look at each other, studying one another's body language. The turtle came to the conclusion that his lab partner is laidback enough to take the conversation seriously but without too much panic. He feels relaxed enough to continue talking, so he does.
"I am aware that the future Casey speaks of—whenever he feels ready to, that is—is much different compared to ours. Everything that happened in that timeline is completely irrelevant to now due to the butterfly effect. You know, how a flap of a butterfly's wings could summon a hurricane? Well... something he told me keeps nagging me. It keeps this voice in my head rambling on and on, it won't stop telling me things that make me feel... Things. I don't know what! I am feeling things and I hate when I do because I can't label them!"
Donatello stands up and begins pacing, cracking his fingers one by one as he continues to talk and his lab partner listens.
"Casey told me you had a partner in the future. It was great at first... spending a little under a decade together... then they were possessed by Kraang biomatter. You... you disobeyed Leo's orders to look for them, to capture them and keep them under control for when I found a serum to inject in them, one that could kill off the Kraang schmuck but leave their human flesh unaffected... But you didn't make it back to base."
He stands from the stool he sat on and approached Donatello, carefully holding his hands out, palms facing up. The softshell takes his hands and revels in their softness, visibly relaxing and staying put.
"Your passing is not what affects me the most," Donatello reaches up to cup his friend's cheek in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across his face. "It's you sharing your affections with anyone other than I. That is what is bothering me."
The boy freezes, blinking up at Donatello with a confused smile. "You're the only one I share moments like these with. I don't understand what you're saying," he giggles, reaching up to squeeze Donatello's hand. The scientist is equally as perplexed.
"I'm saying that I love you."
He stands up straighter, rigid and unyielding. Heat spreads upon his face and he looks away, his laugh wavering.
"You know, hearing that in person sounds a lot better."
Donatello still holds his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.
"I love you too, Donnie."
The mutant feels lightheaded when he exhales, then leans in for a second before stopping himself. His lab partner grins, nodding while he bites his lip knowingly. Donatello springs into action, gripping his friend's shoulders and pulling him in to meld his lips on his, tasting, savouring, fluttering his eyes shut as a grin stretched across his face, parting from the kiss with muddy, blushing cheeks.
"Can we do that more? That was really nice. I would like to open a document for this... if you let me."
He rolled his eyes and pulled his favourite turtle closer.
"Yes, you may, 'Tello. We have all the time in the world."
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lulublack90 · 3 days
Text
Prompt 22 - Evoke
@jegulus-microfic April 22, Word count 966
Last one guys!
Previous part First part
For the second time that week, James woke wrapped around Regulus. The TV was still switched on. Matthew Broderick’s young face smirked back at them. James reached for the remote to turn it off. 
Regulus stirred. He nuzzled his face into James’s chest. James gently ran his fingers through the other man’s hair. 
“Morning, love,” He murmured into the quiet room. 
“Hmmmm,” Regulus groaned as he slowly woke. 
It was their last day together. Tomorrow morning, they would be leaving and returning to their homes. James didn’t want to think about tomorrow. He wanted to make today count. Regulus’s ankle was almost better, but still got sore if he exerted himself too much.
“So what have you two got planned for today?” Sirius asked as they crowded around the sofa with their breakfasts. “More canoodling?” He snickered. 
“Oh, with what I’ve got planned, almost definitely.” James winked at Regulus and watched him screw up his face as he pretended not to enjoy James’s attention. Sirius’s face replicated Regulus’s expression, and Remus clapped him on the back, doing nothing to hide the laughter in his voice. 
“You did ask, Sirius,” Sirius grumbled something under his breath but cheered up when Remus ruffled his hair and pecked a kiss on his cheek.
Soon, Sirius and Remus disappeared together, leaving James and Regulus to themselves. 
“So, do you have something planned, or did you just say that to shut my brother up?” Regulus asked, trying not to look too interested. 
“Can’t it be both?” James answered, wiggling his eyebrows wildly. Regulus huffed out a laugh. 
“Alright, spill it. What are we doing today, then?” James reached into his pocket and tugged out a slightly rumpled leaflet. 
“Did you know that the hotel has a selection of private hot tubs you can rent?” 
“No, I did not,” Regulus leaned closer. 
“We’ll they do, and I’ve rented one for us for this afternoon. So we can watch the sunset together.” James had thought it was a perfect idea, but Regulus’s silence made him second guess himself. 
“And what if I didn’t bring my swimming things?” Regulus broke his silence. 
“Oh—er—erm.” James stammered. He hadn’t thought about that. He always brought his swimming things just in case when he went on holiday. “Well, it is completely enclosed, so it’s up to you. We could go into town and get you something, or you could just wear your undies…” 
Regulus moved so his mouth was whispering against James’s ear. James had to concentrate on breathing evenly so that he didn’t pass out. 
“There’s another choice, you know.” James gulped at Regulus’s sultry tone. “I don’t have to wear anything.” James’s mind went white. Everything became static, and it took him a minute to recover. 
By the time he could think again, Regulus was back on the sofa licking chocolate from his fingers left over from his pain au chocolat. “What about this morning? There are a lot of hours between sunset and now.” Regulus finally took pity on him when his mouth opened and closed a few times, and nothing came out. “ Shall we go have a wander through the shops, get some lunch and then come back and watch a group of kids try and find pirate treasure?” James shook his head. 
“Sounds perfect.” 
The shops were a lot more interesting than James had thought they’d be. There were the usual tourist traps full of crapy overpriced souvenirs. But tucked away at the back of an alley was a little reading cafe. Regulus yanked James into it and refused to leave until it was nearly time for them to get back. 
“Reg? Just so you know, we’ve been here six hours.” Regulus’s head snapped up.
“What?! How?!” He looked shocked and spotted the multiple tea cups on the table. “Oops, sorry. Got carried away.” 
“Absolutely no problem at all, love. I enjoyed watching you enjoy yourself as much as you enjoyed reading. Did you find any you wanted?” James asked indulgently. Regulus looked at the small pile beside him, but before he could narrow it down, James scooped them all up and went to the till to pay. He carried them dutifully up to Regulus’s room, refusing Regulus’s offer to pay for them but accepting his thanks before they headed back outside.  
They settled back into the warm, bubbly water just as the first pink rays began to cross the sky. James leaned his head back on the side and let the water relax his body. He let out a contented sigh as he closed his eyes. 
“James?” Regulus said quietly. 
“Yeah, love?” James replied, keeping his eyes closed. 
“Will we see each other again? You know, after we leave tomorrow.” James cracked an eye and stared at Regulus. 
“You just try and keep me away.” He growled playfully. 
“You promise?” 
“I promise.” He vowed and let his eye droop closed again. 
He felt the water shift as Regulus moved but wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Regulus hopped into his lap and grasped either side of his face with his pale hands. James’s eyes flew open as he stared into those quicksilver eyes. Regulus hesitated for a second before he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to James’s. 
James wrapped his hands around Regulus’s waist and pulled him closer as he deepened their kiss. 
They lost themselves in each other, missing the sunset entirely. 
They moved away from each other when the stars lit the sky, and Regulus began to complain about pruning. James held Regulus’s hand as they made their way back into the hotel and up to Regulus’s room. James looked back fondly at the hot tub, knowing that every time he saw one now, it would evoke memories of their first perfect kiss. 
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blueparadis · 2 years
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EX- LAWYER HIROMI HIGURUMA ! !
+. CWs — afab-reader,she/her pronouns,age gap, bad relationships, highly suggestive themes, cockwarming, edging; word count — 0.5k | ex-lawyer!hiromi higuruma just fancies his young confidant.
+. notes — for @luvbladez ’s all suited up collab.
+. EXTRAS— tap here to browse my works !
⌗ tags — @tokyometronetwork
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Ex-lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma who stopped practicing law for a while is now a loan shark who happens to meet a young aspiring girl full of dreams while carrying out one of his jobs.
At first,ex-lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma happens to brush her off but when his client mentions that the opponent lawyer is giving him a hard time yet Hiromi visits you just out of curiosity.
It was supposed to be a simple chat over Espresso but Ex-lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma is the alpha lawyer who turned stones to bread in his time. Naturally, along with people's attention his visit bestowed you with questions; questions from your heart as well as society.
She used to go to his penthouse, monthly because who wouldn't want to be under his wing? He was one of the best lawyers and if not work under his supervision you could get his advices. But nothing goes as planned, like always. Visits were becoming frequent.
Ex-lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma happens to listen her boyfriend problems whenever she visits. He mostly just laughs it off thinking kids these days. Sometimes, he'd join too when she cusses her ex-boyfriend.
It's been weeks since she started talking about her break up rather than her cases. He kinda hates how a chatty, reactive girl like you is suddenly silent and spaced out.
So, Ex-lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma sometimes jokes to lighten the mood,and ends up saying things he shouldn't. “Then, want me to make you forget those?”
You try not to think too much but being his confidant has it's perks. “Like sharing a blanket and watching crime documentaries together?”, was your reply.
You really could not think how a simple joke of watching crime documentaries together would end up with you cockwarming him.
Curtains drawn in, air conditioning on, the blanket tossed aside and you're barely clothed. And, ex-lawyer!Hiromi Higuruma was a man of great self-control and happens to aspire young hearts a lot.
With the crime documentary on, having you on his lap he grazes your bare back with the back of his fingers occasionally. You can't move, you don't wanna move. It is already annoying that he is winning.
Hence, you just sit with his cock inside your pussy, feeling it getting hard, swell inside you. Five minutes left before the documentary ends.
“Think you can come next weekend, y/n ?”, he whispers turning off the video. Now, she has to look at me.
But you can't let him down,can you now? You can just let him win that easily.
“Hmmmm?”, his nose almost grazes your warm cheek as he tries to have a glance of your pretty.
“No...yes...maybe?”, you murmur eyes stilled on the flower vase. He laughs before leaving a dry suck on the crook of your neck.
You heavily moan since sitting almost half-an-hour with his aroused cock inside your tummy was making your self-control fade away and now, he slides his hands under your bra giving your boob a squeeze.
“Sir...”, he finally has your eyes on him. Hands still over your boob while the other was curling around your waist to keep you in place.
“How about I don't have to come next weekend?”
You manage to look at his semi-chapped lips trying to read his poker face. But He pulls you towards himself with a strong jerk hitting your spot having you gasp into his mouth.
“sounds perfect!”
Finally, you could taste those smoky lips. You have won and you knew he was proud because he reciprocated your kiss.
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teecupangel · 3 months
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Thinking about nature spirit fifteen meter tall Desmond who lives in caves and travels by night. He can't speak but communicates by trills, whistles, chitters and growls he has deerlike ears and little nubby horns that have moss growing on them. His eyes are similar to a cat's, his teeth are pointed, nails are sharp, hard to file and he can smell a drop of blood from half a mile away. He doesn't need to eat a lot because he photosynthesises and chews dirt. He can make forests grow out of nothing but would rather not impact natural ecosystems.
He does NOT eat men OR kidnap their women... But sometimes he does rescue a few from unwanted marriages. Now because of that the tiny farmers like to fire arrows at him and scream when he's spotted in the area. Rude but more annoying than anything. Now he sleeps with boulders in front of his cave... The boulders don't completely cover his 'doorway' but farmers are apparently very bad climbers.
His ancestors on the other hand...
Now I'm thinking about all the misunderstandings that could come from this little brain baby... Maybe I should write this?
I'm a bad writer tho...
Hmmmm~
I just can't decide if he would be naked or wear 'clothes' similar to poison Ivy's.
I just love this setup too much of simply walking would make the ground bloom and wither.
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It’s one of the scenes that are etched into my brain since I was a kid and I want Desmond as a nature spirit have the same thing and not have any say on it XD
The clothes though… I guess it depends on how you want him to be able to use photosynthesis. Being naked and his skin being the ‘main tool’ for photosynthesis would work or his ‘clothes’ are actually a part of him that are the ones doing the photosynthesis. Also… having clothes would give you an excuse for Desmond to change clothes depending on the season. Like, something green with fresh leaves for summer, a myriads of blooming flowers in spring, orange and yellows for autumn and the most resilient plants that still strive in winter.
Keeping him naked also means that making him wear clothes would hinder the photosynthesis which might give you a chance for a little bit of angst.
I kinda like the idea that his horns are slowly growing and the final form of the horns is also like his clothes, shifting depending on the season. Flowers would decorate them during spring, fresh leaves would sprout from them during summer, orange and yelloe leaves would fall from them during autumn and they would be completely bare a shock of pure white during winter.
(aka: like the horns of Sawsbucks but more complicated)
I personally believe that people should write if they want. What is bad in your eyes might be treasure to a reader out there looking for something specific that your story happens to have. But that final say is yours, nonny, if you want. I think this kind of story would be interesting to read, personally. Start the story slow with Desmond learning about his new body and getting used to it, sprinkle in the incidents that made humans wary of him, then the midpoint would be the chapter when he and the ancestor of your choice finally meet.
If a full fic is too much for you, you can write little snippets of the scenes you want to write instead. Those are always fun to read and there’s less pressure in making it a coherent story with a beginning, middle and end. :)
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aritamargarita · 1 year
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GOLDEN || 008
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HOLD YOUR APPLAUSE!
now i welcome you back… you’ve landed at the golden train station destination, don’t forget your luggage when exiting the train yippee!
i hope you get a couple of laughs out of this…because after a certain point literally nothing is going to be funny anymore *WINK* you know, in both series, i think we just can't have nice things lol.
with this series of unfortunate events, i present to you [name]’s bizarre adventure. *lights dim, curtains fall*
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THAT MATCH MADE you feel pretty unsatisfied. All you can hope for is that this future Sable storyline can give you more than whatever you're doing right now. The night is still young, so there are many things waiting for you.
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BACKSTAGE // 7:24 PM
You’re the last one out. The other three were already making their way down the hall by now.
You’re not exactly satisfied with that match from earlier. Truth be told, you wanted to wrestle with Chyna a little longer. Even though you were goofing around, you knew for a fact that Chyna had more than an irish whip in her arsenal.
You want her at her full potential! You’re sure she wants you at your full potential too.
If only you were put in a storyline with her instead of Sable, sigh..
You're not exactly alone back in gorilla either. As soon as you hit those curtains, Bret was leaning on the wall. "Done for the night?"
You look at him with a smile. “Yes.” You weren’t really impressed overall with your match, and you’d tell him this much. “If you were watching, don’t be surprised. I didn’t do much this time..”
Bret shrugs it off. “I still think you did something out there. That’s all that matters. Let me tell you a little secret,” He comes closer so that you can hear him a little better. “Shawn’s got a real big habit of making things all about him. Trust me, I know.”
The way he said it makes you raise an eyebrow. Now you’re really curious..
“..Still, I think you stood out tonight.” He continues.
“Couldn’t keep your eyes off of me, eh?” You tease. “I get it. Everyone seems to have that problem when they meet me.”
“Your name must be trouble, then.” Bret grins at you. “Causing it everywhere you go. By the way, what ever happened to watching me wrestle? Think it’s a little unfair if I can only watch you.”
"Listen, I wanted to tell you sorry. I kiiinda just wanted to go back to my hotel." You explain. “Other than make that one ringside appearance, there wasn’t anything to do, you know?”
“I guess I better back out of our bet, huh?” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Don’t know if I can trust you to hold up on your end of the deal.”
Bret must think he looks really cool doing that. You’re almost flattered.
“Oh no!” You say, dramatically putting your hand on your chest. “Whatever will I do?!”
“Hmm. Could make it up to me.” He says. “What do you have planned tonight?”
“Nothing…but..” You cross your arms. “If you’re about to say what I think you are, I thought the whole deal was if I talked to your crazy friend?” You hadn’t seen Pillman the entire show, let alone the last show. “I haven’t even seen him yet..”
Bret shrugs. He didn’t have an answer at first. “Well, maybe the guy’s just a little shy. You might’ve missed him. I talked to him the other day and funnily enough, it just so happens he talks about you a lot. I don’t blame him, but if I were you, I’d check the match card for tomorrow.”
Hmmmm……
“You don’t blame him, huh..” Whatever that means. “And I’ll check. Now, what do you want from me?” You’re sure that Shawn must’ve been looking for you by now, especially since you fell back.
“You said you’ve got nothing planned tonight, right?” Once you nod your head as confirmation, he smiles. “We’re gonna grab something to eat.”
“Is that an order or a request?”
“Whatever you want it to be.”
You’re not sure how to take that, but if there’s one thing you like, it’s people who are forward with what they want from you.
It’s probably another thing on your imaginary list that Terry’s instilled in you overtime. Closed mouths do not get fed. He’s got a lot of good lessons..
“Okay, okay. That’s fine.” There’s something else that’s been killing you, so you just go for it. “When you mentioned Shawn making things all about him, what did you mean?”
Bret decided to put it bluntly. “If you really want to know, he’s just a smart ass. Guy thinks he’s at the top of the world these days. I’m surprised no one told you what happened last month..”
“Not at all.” What exactly happened?
“Last month, I lost the WWF Championship to him and not in the way you think. That asshole put me in the sharpshooter and the bell rung without me even tapping.“
Damn. That’s crazy. You couldn’t even imagine the atmosphere backstage after.
The only thing you can say is; “Wow.”
He chuckles, which makes you tilt your head. “You should’ve been there. I ended up ripping a chunk of his hair out.…can’t say it might not sound a bit anti-climactic in my words though.”
“And this was like a month ago?!”
“Yeah. You just missed it. Believe it or not, we were actually pretty good friends a while back.”
“Seriously?” Though you’ve only known them for a little while, they seem like they’re from such different worlds. Then again, opposites do attract.
“Seriously.” He nods. “My only advice to you right now is to be careful who you trust. You’re in the lions den. Personally, I don’t think it’s wise to stay there.”
If you leave the “lion’s den”, where else could you go? You’re fully capable of making a name for yourself, but the ladder may work a little different here.
There’s more questions you want to ask. Hundreds of them, even. But things are cut short when you see Shawn yet again sauntering down the hallway with his arms open.
“Heyyy, I knew something was wrong! Didn’t see ya’ behind us!” He chimed. “You know you’re apart of the group, what do people say these days? No one left behind? Because you’re apart of the group, you know?”
He placed a lot of emphasis on group. Something that makes you look at him in confusion and makes Bret raise his eyebrow at him.
“Man, I sure LOVE being with D-Generation X,” He continues. “You know, the group. Now if you excuse us, we’ve got somewhere to be!” Shawn slings his arm around you and tugs you down the hallway.
“Sorry.” You turn your head towards Bret with an apologetic look on your face. “See you tonight?”
Shawn’s really starting to get on your nerves with this. It almost makes it worse now that this ‘Montreal Screwjob’ put that slight sour taste in your mouth about him.
“I feel like I’ve gotta put a leash on you or something.” Shawn chuckles. “Always wandering somewhere else.” You want to find the sweetness in his words, but you literally can’t. You’re too pissed off with him dragging you away like that.
With you giving no response, not even a sarcastic one, he suddenly stops. You step away and just stare at him.
With what Bret told you, could you really find it in yourself to trust Shawn? Could you even trust D-Generation X as a whole?
Somehow, you feel like the only person you can trust is Chyna. But maybe that’s because you have an fondness for her.
"What?" He asks. "Why're you looking at me like that?"
You simply shake your head and continue down the hall. The locker room must’ve been only two doors down.
“Woah, woah!” Shawn yells, speeding up so he can catch up to you. “Hold on a second there..!”
You don’t slow down or say anything to him as you open the door and head over to your things to hastily pack them. You need to find a nice outfit and you’d much rather do it alone.
Chyna and Hunter give a look to each other before turning back to you in confusion. Shawn’s making hand gestures towards you, but they have no fucking clue what he means.
You shoot the other two a smile before grabbing your luggage. “Have a good night.”
“Yeah…uh, you too.” Hunter replies.
After his words, no one really says anything else to you. The three of them just watch you push past Shawn and walk out the door.
“Man, you must’ve royally fucked up that one.” Hunter muttered. You didn’t seem to be in a good mood at all. “The hell happened?”
Shawn waits a moment before finally gathering some words together. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, it’s for her own good. You don’t get it, she was talking to Bret. Shady business, guys! We’ve gotta follow her.”
“I don’t think you should do that.” Chyna recommends. “You should leave her alone.”
“That’s a good idea.” Shawn thinks about it for a moment. “Buuuuut that’s not gonna happen. ‘Cause what if she leaves us for the Hart Foundation?! She was talking to Bret earlier. Sounds like they’ve got plans. Plans for what exactly?!”
“Dude…” For a second, Shawn thinks that Hunter wasn’t on his side. “…Holy shit, you’re right. She might just leave us. The woman’s new, this may be a test drive!”
Chyna couldn’t believe that Hunter was feeding into this. Seems like you couldn’t have friends outside of them. The more overbearing they are, the more you’d want to leave the group, and she most definitely didn’t want that to happen. “You guys—“
She tries to be the voice of reason, but the other two just weren’t hearing it.
“Get the car ready!” Shawn yells, quickly grabbing his own stuff. “She’ll be gone before we know it, this is a mission we can’t fail!”
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You wanted to look nice. Not for any particular reason, of course. You think what you’ve scrapped together is good enough, so you pose in the mirror one last time for good measure.
This isn’t a date or anything. It’s just two co-workers hanging out in their spare time after the show. Yes, that’s right. Just two co-workers. It’s for business and whatnot.
Sure enough, the car ride didn’t entail anything that interesting. The two of you just sat in silence for the most part. Both of you were just focused on the road in front of you, with little small talk.
You didn’t know what to say. Neither did he. But there was a smile on your face that just wouldn’t go away as you idly drummed on your knee the entire time.
The thought crossed your mind to offhandedly mention how you almost cracked your head open when he called to tell you that he arrived. Just for light banter. You ended up not saying anything.
Finally getting there was different. The moment you two got out of the car was the moment you two could talk about everything in the damn world. At least he was nice enough to open the door for you.
You didn’t really know why, but you figured that you should get a feel for him, see what he likes to talk about..
This is really weird.
“Are you cold?” Bret suddenly asks. “If you want to, you’re free to use my coat.”
“No, I’m good.” You say. For some reason, this is genuinely making you nervous. Even though you’re hanging out.. “Thanks anyway.”
It is a bit chilly outside. Then again, it is December.
He opens the door for you again and you're suddenly hit with warm air. It feels much better. You just hope you don't start to feel uncomfortable with the heat by being there for too long.
It's not too much of a fancy restaurant, nothing five star or anything along those lines. It's just a local one in the town, you think.
It’s definitely not a Waffle House. This one guy in your life had a tendency to take you there at 2 in the morning and call it fine dining. By no means were you complaining about the food. The food is good. It’s just the idea.
The waiter greets you two. Bret’s the one that does all the talking as your eyes seem to wander off somewhere else.
You notice that it’s pretty quiet for the most part, though you can see people chatting away at tables.
Somehow, seeing people like just hanging around like this reminds you of when you were just like any other person. Right before you got into wrestling. It’s different this way.
The feeling of not being famous, you suppose.
It reminded you of that period of your life where you didn’t know what exactly you wanted to do. You guess you were at the right place at the right time because you got scouted in a strange way.
More than likely because you were nice-looking, of course. But you’re more than just looks and you demonstrated as such in your very first match.
Before you’re able to spiral in your thoughts any further, Bret has to tap you on the shoulder to get you to follow him.
“Whoops.” You mutter. And you follow right towards the dining room. Once you’re seated in a booth, the both of you are passed menus. “Ever been here before?” You ask, doing your best to make conversation.
“Nope. I just think it’s a nice change of pace. I’m the kind of guy who’ll eat fast food. But hey, I just said screw it, let me at least try to leave a lasting impression on a new friend.” Bret says, scanning over the menu. He wishes that the lights weren’t so dim in here…
“Ah. You and me both.” You too, we’re a victim of fast food. McDonald’s fries were too good to pass up. It’s like a tradition for yourself to go after every show.
Things are a bit different now. You want to try and get a better feel of the WWF’s schedule first.
On another note, it is safe to say you’re decently impressed. You just hope the waiters here weren’t as temperamental as Waffle House waiters.
“Hola! Oh shit, I mean, bonjour.” The waiter says in a terrible French accent. “I’m your waiter, Sèan, that’s right, don’t forget the apostrophe on the E, how may I take your order, eh?”
You don’t really comment on it, instead focusing on the menu. You’re not that hungry either. Somehow, that match had zapped away your appetite. Maybe you should just order ten cocktails and get drunk or something.
Actually, no, no. That’d be really embarrassing.
You lift your head up to give the waiter a smile, but once you do, it immediately falls.
…You look over at Bret, who was simply scanning through the menu unfazed. Did he seriously not know who this was?
Did his voice not give it away? You’ve gotta be kidding. This has to be some king of joke.
How did Shawn even nab a waiter outfit anyway? And most importantly, who glued that mustache to his face?! Is no one else pointing this out??
More importantly, he picked such a stupid name. Way to disguise yourself.
Still, Bret hasn’t noticed. But if he does, then you both more than likely are going to leave. While you’re pretty upset that he followed you here, you wonder how this’ll play out.
“Um..” You rub your temple. “Wow. Okay. Hi, Sèan with an apostrophe. Can I just get a water for now?” You start to wonder how in the hell he’s going to get access to the kitchen.
“Oui!” He gives you a thumbs up and you cringe. Honestly, you never thought you’d be in a situation like this in your life.
“Same here. I can’t figure out what I want for the life of me.” Bret says.
“You could get lost.” Shawn mutters, his eye twitching.
“Huh?”
“What? I didn’t say anything, kind sir. You wanted the water?”
As Bret gives his response to him, you start to wonder why your life has to be this way. Out of all things that could've happened..why in the world would Shawn follow you?
He leaves and you take a moment to rub your face with your hands. For once in your life, you'd just like to meet someone who wasn't that obsessed with you. You have had plenty of bad experiences already.
Meanwhile, Shawn is slightly panicking. You definitely knew that something was up. He goes over to another table, holding up a notepad. “Guys, we have a dilemma. I call this: Code Alfredo.”
“That is a stupid codeword.” Chyna blatantly says behind her menu. And quite frankly, she thinks what they’re doing now is stupid too.
Hunter slightly leans down the menu that’s covering his face. “I’m totally for it, man. Don’t worry. What happened?”
“I think she knows! I’m gonna try and get access to the kitchen. These idiots don’t even know I don’t work here.” He chuckles. “Slipped right under the radar. Hell, you could get your own uniform if you wanted to, Hunter.”
“Always wanted to try my hand at cooking.” He says. “Guess I’ll get ready for my shift, heh.”
“If she sees the two of you, she’ll know something is up. And I don’t want her to think that I had anything to do with this.” Chyna says, lowering her menu. But she, just like you, wanted to see how it’ll play out.
Shawn just laughs. What makes her think she’s not going down with this ship?! “The hell do you mean?! You’re deep in it now! You definitely play a part in this.”
“Ugh.” She groans, waving her hand and bringing up her menu to cover her face once again.
“C’mon dude. We’ve gotta get you a uniform.” Shawn nudges Hunter to get up. “And you’ll never guess what I did, I asked a camera crew to come over and we’re gonna….”
And back at your table, things seemed to be the same as always. You just can’t believe Shawn’s even here.
You’ve gotta find a way to make the best of this situation, maybe even try and distract yourself from the fact he came. Easier said than done.
“So, uh.” You cough out. “I’ve heard stuff about some kind of award show called the Slammy’s. Know anything about it?”
“Yeah. Most of the Hart Foundation is going, so I’m obligated to go too. I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to go.” He admits with a smile. “Thought it was dumb. Especially since I’ve already won last year. Three times.”
“Three?” You’re surprised. He must be good, damn. “What did you win it for??”
He counts them out for you with his fingers. “Best Submission. Best Music Video. Believe I was Hall of Fame bound as well.”
“That’s a lot stuff. Pretty cool.” You smile. And it was. You originally thought that you couldn’t imagine being picked for something like that, but apparently, you did! “I got nominated, too. Least I think I did. I think it was Miss Slammy?”
“Then I know who my votes going to.” He immediately says. “No question.”
You scoff. “Oh, you…”
“By the way, it’s pretty common for you to bring someone to the Slammy’s with you. Did anyone ask you yet?”
“No. Not at all.” To you, you figured that was a given since you were new and all. No one really knows you like that.
“Guess this is my opportunity then. Are you interested in going with me?”
Suddenly, yet another waiter comes by and you groan.
This time, you can identify him as definitely Hunter. He has a stupid chef hat on, and his glued on mustache may have been falling off, but he can’t hide those blonde locks of his.
“Compliments of the chef.” He sets your drink down and you look at it. Gotta be some variation of soda. This isn’t water.
“Hey, uh. I wanted a water…” You say.
“My bad.” He swipes it back up, then turns to Bret. “What did you want, dude?” Of course, his customer service was really bad. But you can’t talk…
“I just wanted a water too.”
You’re not understanding how Bret hasn’t caught on yet. Maybe he’s not paying attention too well enough. You kept seeing Hunter’s eyes darting behind Bret, which struck you as strange.
“Hey. Did you know Shawn Michaels won the Slammy’s five times last year?” Hunter suddenly says.
“What—?” As Bret is talking, a circular tray is smashed on top of his head and he crashes down to the floor. You immediately jump out of your seat.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.
Shawn dramatically rips off his apron and ushers the cameraman to come closer so that they could get a good shot of this beatdown. "You think you're better than us?! Tell your little foundation to stay away from our new recruit!" He kicks him.
"Stop that!" You yell. The attention was on all of you as Shawn continues to kick Bret. In attempt to stop his assault, you jump on his back. The people surrounding you are just enjoying the show at this point.
Because you're currently trying to choke Shawn out, Hunter takes over and starts laying blows onto Bret. Chyna has to come out of nowhere in order to try and separate you from Shawn.
Once she lifts you off of him, you look behind you. "Oh my god! You too, Chyna?!"
Well, now you know for sure this restaurant wont be allowing you guys to come back.
Ever.
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i'd like to give an explanation as to why she stopped having “a thing” for shawn so quickly.…..the answer is clearrrr, it’s absolutely raven’s fault…she will never see being the slightest bit clingy as a good thing again LOL.
ngl this chapter was a struggle thanks to motivation and tumblr breaking every 5 seconds. i wasn't very happy but i think it just needed a new set of eyes (aka you who's reading lmao) i thank you for reading, big things are coming!
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