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#my beef's not so much with his story but his statement on stories in general
fictionadventurer · 7 months
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I would like to publicly debate Mr. Andrew Peterson about his stance on endings please and thank you.
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thefangirltreehouse · 4 months
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general observations (cyberpunk 2077)
just to preface, i’ve not played through the main story at all since 2021 on my base playstation four and i’m currently replaying on my playstation five. i played as fem!corpo!v both times. this will probably have continued updates as i get further into the endgame.
“don’t look now, but that’s jenkins’ girl.” i know it’s probably not intentional but that sounds like a loaded statement.
the way kerry calls fem!v “doll” is so fuckin’ cute.
wakako calls her “honey” which again, very cute. also was dying at her “is this the dali lama?” when v sarcastically implies she simply couldn’t fathom murdering for money.
the peralez’s are one of those couples and i cannot get that out of my head.
fuck the voodoo boys. i didn’t pay much attention the first play-through and ended up siding with them because of how much the game makes it clear that you shouldn’t trust corpos and i hadn’t wrapped my head around the evelyn stuff. choose netwatch and felt a little better this time.
joshua still makes my skin scrawl and i dislike those like him irl but i wish we had more interactions like what happened with vasquez - him seeing v as a legitimate dangerous liability. (i’m genuinely surprised they didn’t do that with river, surely he done some digging into v?)
i’m terribly paraphrasing but i’ve noticed there is a couple of thugs in a coronado / arroyo side mission that are like “yo, that’s v.”
i saved brick and royce, kinda disappointed you’re stuck with royce in the totentanz mission - nice to see dum dum remember v by name and how nippy v gets over jackie’s mention.
royce - or millitech obviously kill brick because his grave is there
honestly i just wanted more of the ol’ samurai geezers.
i forgot just how many npc’s hit on fem!v in comparison to male!v like, fingers guards, jacob, the roadie, general population, the bargest guards when leaving the black sapphire (that might be both v’s), they also say “ooh! you little whore!” and also kerry’s “nice rack” dig at johnny. not to mention how many folk call her a bitch, slut, cunt and white during combat.
skippy’s disturbia never gets old, especially considering it’s seventy-years-old at that point.
i still don’t understand why there isn’t an option to give kerry back his guitar - that he clearly wants back - if you’ve met him before the padré side-quest.
really not a fan of having to build quickhacks when you’re essentially buying a blueprint.
“where’s kerry been hiding you?” oh he definitely told them the ‘new output’ shtick.
jesus christ it is so much easier to make money now.
i know it’s the future and things are a little more blasé plus he’s an old, jaded rockstar but i was a little taken aback with just how much kerry calls us cracks “whores, cunts, sluts and bitches” like chill.
a little disappointed aurore had no intention of fucking v.
i can’t stand grimes but i wish we had one more mission for lizzy wizzy
style-wise, phantom liberty is a massive step-up but the clothing in this game is atrocious especially if you want to wear anything girly.
it’s nice to be able to see the colour of v’s hair this time.
i love my little type-66 avenger.
corpo!fem!v is the perfect foil to johnny. also love how some the most notable people in johnny’s life are women. alt, rogue, denny, nancy and depending on your choice, v.
i don’t really ship johnny with v, but the “old married couple” dig was spot-on.
i’m personally conflicted on so-mi, but i’d probably lean towards saving her. that said, i fundamentally believe v wouldn’t. she’s looking for a lifeline and so-mi purposely dangled it over her. she’s not got beef with the nusa, they’re offering what so-mi cannot.
still cannot stand the photo-mode filters.
i’m forever curious about the sobchak cut storyline that was given to river and takemura.
vik’s mocking, “ooOOoooh” towards zetatech and not being allowed drink on the job.
leigh’s acting when johnny simply takes v’s body after the rogue arasaka mission and just the entire langley section are so well executed. v and river’s farewell’s in langley and in the badlands will always break my heart.
sampson’s grave just read’s “he loved his car.”
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nonbinarylocalcryptid · 3 months
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MAG8 - Burned Out
I don't Know where to start with this one. Construction guy has beef with spooky tree. Statement of Jonny Sims, regarding worldbuilding within his horror podcast. Hm, both seem like good ways to aproach it.
It has a lot of stuff going on ngl
Quotesssssss:
"There was a knock at the door, and the feeling abruptly vanished. I was cold again, lying on the bare floor. I struggled to my feet as the knock came again. My hand shook as I opened it. By now I didn’t know what to expect. Would it be Raymond again? Agnes? Or some other thing to announce the end of my sanity.
What I did not expect was a Catholic priest." - Ivo Lensik, March a3th 2007
The statement it's creepy and mysterious and then, pum, Catholic priest. Why is it so funny?
"As I stood there in the cold, my eyes fell on the tree. That creepy, damn tree." - Ivo "I had beef with a tree" Lensik
"Ah, head trauma and latent schizophrenia – the ghost’s best friends. Aside from excessive indulgence in psychoactive drugs, it seems to me that there is simply no better way to make contact with the spirit world." - Jon Sims, April 8th 2016
Joooon, why are you so mean? xD
"There doesn’t seem to be any print evidence of what happened to the house; no news stories or similar regarding the fire. But one resident did provide a photograph of the house in flames." - Also Jon
this bit is so, so funny, like, that resident really said "yeah we didn't call the firefighters but hey, I took a photo :D"
Small review:
God bless worldbuilding
Spoiler Stuff, go to General Overview if you don't want to read it:
Well, Ivo Lensik's father wasn't schizophrenic, he just happen to know Michael a bit too well I guess
General overview:
Vibe: wut
Horror: spooky, but not too much, I may be wrong
Audio: nice
Humour: Jon being, someone throwing hands with a tree
Score: 10/10
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spicyicymeloncat · 2 years
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One thing I need the fandom to drop when it comes to Wu is them thinking he never talks about the ninja’s parents to them. It was never his information to disclose to Jay that he was adopted if he was even aware of that, it was up to Ed and Edna. If Jay’s mom had to make the tough decision of leaving her child behind and was never seen or heard from again despite being married to a movie star I don’t think she would’ve ran up the mountain to tell the Bros what just happened. I’m 75% sure he hardly even knew Dr. Julien or that Zane was a robot (poor guy probably couldn’t comprehend that robots could exist and be so human). Somewhere in the comics he holds a baby Cole and he was good friends with Lilly. Cole would’ve been surprised or confused when in S13 Wu says she never had a necklace like, “What do you mean? You knew my mother?” I feel at some point Cole either realizes he knows Wu from his childhood or Wu’s cryptically like “I remember you used to fight your parents on bedtimes constantly” and giggles
(Disclaimer: this is all my opinion, if anyone reading this doesn’t like Wu or disagrees with me ur valid to do so. Love u all really)
Yeah I’ve had a bit of time to think over the “Wu didn’t tell the ninja about their parents” and my blanket statement response would just be Wu couldn’t have told the ninja about their parents before their parents have even been conceptualised as characters.
The reason the ninja are continuously interesting for this many seasons is partially because their backstories weren’t told right at the beginning and they have room to develop and grow. Their parents characters are only introduced when it’s relevant to the plot, and are only canonically conceptualised right up to the season they get released. Which does make sense considering how many times the show was going to end. There’s no point planning seasons ahead of time if you aren’t sure those seasons will exist, otherwise you end up with unfinished and unsatisfying story arcs. The price of this is that the retcons contradict either Wu’s integrity or knowledge. Or do they?
Yeah I agree 100% with you on Jay’s mother. Wu probably doesn’t even know what happened to her, and considering what Nya said in s5, that elemental powers can skip generations, Wu may not have been sure Jay was her child. But even if he was, if Ed and Edna hadn’t told Jay, then it’s not really up to Wu, or at least he shouldn’t be held accountable more than Ed and Edna.
With Cole, I don’t think Wu really withheld any information about Lilly. I haven’t seen anyone debate this yet so maybe Cole doesn’t apply lol, but yeah I think Wu has been transparent about her probably. I mean considering how Wu and Cole were close, and Cole told Wu about her death as seen in s8/9 in his flashback. I haven’t seen the comics so idk how true this is (I don’t really consider the comics truly canon anyways) but I sometimes hc that Lilly kept her identity as master of earth from her family as sort of a way of dividing her work and home life, which is why Cole’s dad was originally against him being a ninja.
I also think that Wu knew Dr Julien (not very well) but didn’t know he died or got kidnapped afterwards and when he discovered Zane as a loner, and realised he didn’t remember, Wu told him that Zane had a family and that they’d look for him (which was a fruitless search bc dr Julien was at a lighthouse at sea) BECAUSE LOOK
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EPISODE 2 of Ninjago and this is my favourite scene ever look look lok at this
…anyways. I think this argument is strongest with Kai and Nya’s parents. In my personal opinion I still think maybe they didn’t want Wu to tell them due to them feeling as if their parents abandoned them on purpose? Idk that’s just a theory based on how quick Kai was to turn on his dad and how much beef Nya had with her mum. Although I still think that Wu offscreen told the siblings what he knew if they asked, or that he’d make off hand comments about how cool their parents were (they were friends). Or maybe he didn’t out of fear of pressuring them. I’d feel like he’d relate considering his own father. Maybe that’s the whole reason why he didn’t tell Nya about her water powers. Because she was doing so well as a samurai and didn’t want her to live through that pressure.
Idk I think there are so many cool options when trying to make sense of Wu that I feel like it’s a shame no one sees that potential. On that note, thanks anon now I have generated more ideas about Wu and I really want to make something out of them now :P
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lyrebright · 2 years
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I mentioned in my last TMA post that I wasn't sure if I wanted to take a break or go charging on ahead--well, the answer was both, apparently, because I did go charging on ahead, but then I hit MAG030 and halfway through had to take a break. I don't think I like the meat episodes.
I am jumping ahead here a bit but I just needed to get that out!! I was cooking beef mince for dinner while I was listening to that episode and it made me unbelievably queasy!! No Thank You!!
Jon's closing statement for it did get a chuckle out of me though. Yes, precisely, my thoughts too, my guy.
MAG027: I actually have immense paranoia about being alone at night so this one Got Me. Outside of the "oh I can relate to that" vibes though I honestly didn't find it very...visceral? I get the vibe from the writing style that the horror in TMA doesn't come so much from making you afraid as it does just simply making you feel, and this one was like. Too generic spoopy horror story to carry that through?
MAG028: another live statement! It's cool to get some further fleshing out to the worldbuilding; this is someone from an established YouTube channel, and also apparently the Magnus Institute has an established reputation, which. Hmm. Interesting.
I liked both the focus of the statement this time and Melanie King. Since the only other live statement givers we've had so far are the...first one? And two 'recurring' characters I wonder if that means they're all like...important? I'll have to to back to the first statement giver and remind myself of her name so I can keep an ear out for it in case she turns up again.
I hope Melanie turns up again too I like her and I wanna know more about her IRL spooky YouTube happenings.
In the first live statement I actually did feel like Jon was trying to be tactful in his words to the woman at the end and she simply took them the wrong way, but oh no the bitch energy came out full force for Melanie (she gave as good as she got though!)
OH I am looking through the episode transcripts as I write these to remind myself of what went on in them so I know what points I wanted to ramble about and that's right. Jon said something in the closing statement about Sarah Baldwin being a familiar name Hang On.
Yes I Am Going To Go Backread The Prior Transcripts What Of It
Oh I did. Not have to dig too deep I was just going to skim through them from episode one and There She Is.
Hmm.
Much to think about.
MAG029: this was an episode I listened to the same night as MAG030 and it was ALSO not a pleasant one to cook dinner to.
At least I wasn't cooking meat at the time? I was frying onions.
I don't have much to say about this one other than that I am Updating my Worldbuilding Databank.
MAG031: I actually just finished this one today (I also finished MAG030 today and it's still BLEGH) so it's a lot fresher in my mind. Also I was doing the dishes while listening, not cooking, so it made me feel MUCH less queasy.
Oh my god I know Jon like gets really into delivering those statements but the like. The poshness he slips into for this one had me cracking up.
Sounds like something that would happen in America, yeah.
The whistling hovered between sinister and taking me out of it entirely tbh. I do not think it would have felt nearly as cringe if Jon did not sing along at that part in the statement.
Like I dig the commitment but Come On. He was totally a theatre kid.
Closing statement was the most interesting part once more.
So it's been two months since Martin endured a worm siege and he's just living at work? That poor man.
Jon's work/home balance sounds atrocious and he does NOT have the excuse of living at his workplace get some sleep???
He sounds so like...exhausted ): and the worms keep just turning up...sounds like some psychological warfare to me!
Wormfare, even,
Does make you wonder though. Jon aren't you meant to just be archiving these? Digitizing these historical records? Jon won't people listen back to these for study one day and hear all the personal shit you are saying?
Imagine being a uni student in like. Current day listening through some tapes for, idk, your thesis or whatever (I have no idea how higher education works) and you get taken through this wholeass journey of this man being snide to his coworkers before worms and you are just. I am just l. I am just listening here.
I'm pretty close to the season one finale now!! I'm excited!! Worms!!
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aquillis-main · 3 months
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No blame, only a pointed finger. (Which is no longer pointed as I am choosing to take your word on your meaning.)
If you agree with someone without a "but" you are agreeing with their entire statement...that is how it will be read by everyone on the outside. If someone says, "I love cheese. And everyone who doesn't like cheese deserves to die." and you say, "Yeah." without specifying that you were only agreeing to the first part you can't expect anyone else to know that you weren't referring to the whole statement.
Immediately? My first ask was rather benign. It was only after your sarcastic reply that I gained any sharpness (which wasn't the best approach, admittedly.)
I DID read the entire "thread," multiple times.
As it stands, I don't understand why you can understand the nuance of Shadow but can't for the movies? It feels like you watched it only once or something. Because you've got the completely wrong angle and there's some story and character stuff that aren't quite correct.
Honestly, I thought we were getting somewhere in understanding one another, but I was shocked by the ire radiating off of your last post. If you want, we can part ways here, since you're mad at me and we're not getting anywhere... :I
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All caps 'now', using a morality argument ('the would-be-child-murderer'), and making a false equivalence between me saying that the script for the Sonic Movie was poorly thought out, to me not liking people joking about a fictional character's death I would not call 'benign' in the slightest sense. In fact, your tone was extremely accusatory, and going 'how dare you act like this isn't okay, when you acted like this earlier!' doesn't make me feel willing to chat to someone who only wants to be an ass about my opinion on things. Forgive me for being rude, but I'm seeing someone be rude to me, so I act as such.
Also, is clarifying what I specifically find egregious about what I have an issue with along with posting another person's ask not also showing my opinion on the subject as well as adding onto what I agree with, even if it's contradictory to what the anon stated? I only fully agreed with an anon once, and all of the other 'agree' asks have extra bits that have additional bits that says 'I have a beef with this'.
Also, I have watched the movie once, and all the stuff I have said about the movie could be glossed in the first run. I don't have to go back and watch it again when I know the points, especially about the random turtle Sonic saves. Maybe some things are fuzzy about the movie, like the bit about the stuff Sonic had in his cave, but you got to admit they never explained where Sonic got any of his stuff from, nor is it given an explanation in general. You can think up stuff like that because of the lack of focus on Sonic as a character, and more as a plot device in general.
I can understand the nuance with Shadow because it's there. With the movies, there's not much nuance in the First Movie, and the Second movie abandons almost all the concepts introduced in the first movie entirely.
And now you're telling me I'm mad, when I'm actually frustrated with you and your refusal to read between the lines and your constant telling me about how you 'can't read' every time. I feel like I'm clearer than glass with you, yet you refuse to open to the possibility that some people are going to walk away from the first Sonic movie feeling like Sonic seems like a jerk, and not in a good way. That refusal you need to let go, and grow up to realize that you have to look in more than one angle about the media you consume. Don't follow what the narrative pulls you into, look at what you enjoy and what you don't like.
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Patton and Monty at War: Unbelieving the unbearable rivalry.
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Monty is trying to steal the show and with the assistance of Divine Destiny [Eisenhower] he may do so.
- General George S. Patton, on the Sicily Campaign, private diaries 16 July 1943
So every week I play my usual game of chess over a glass of wine with one of my neighbours in my Parisian apartment building. He’s a retired army general but remains active as a military historian and speaker. He’s curmudgeonly but one warms to him quickly as he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. He’s not a fan of women in the military but reluctantly concedes he would make an exception for me (besides who else could he play chess with?). We get on really well now because of the Covid lockdown this past year. We often have long discussions about military history and current politics until the bottle of wine is completely drained.
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On one occasion he invited me to watch the 1969 classic war film, Patton, about the life of one of America’s greatest iconic World War Two generals, George S. Patton. It’s been years since I’ve seen it and I almost had forgotten how great the movie is with George C. Scott as Patton and Karl Malden as General Omar Bradley. We watched it in English and then discussed many things that came out of the film.
Hollywood and history usually do not mix. It is quite common for  filmmakers to take a historical subject and to distort it for their purposes and to dumb it down for entertainment purposes. In the case of the movie, Patton, there was no real attempt to distort the story of Patton. It was a fantastic and stirring Hollywood movie. Moreover it was an excellent study in character given Oscar worthy heft by the great George C. Scott as the crusty General George S. Patton. Francis Ford Coppola’s script was severely under-rated.
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However there remain glaring inaccuracies such as Patton’s opening speech in the movie - admittedly a an iconic bit of cinema - but even this was based on his statements and captured the character of  the man, something even acknowledged by the Generals’ family.
Much  of the details of his role in the defeat of Germany are true. The only real omission was the lack of focus on Patton’s Lorraine Campaign, where he distinguished himself. There are some exaggerations in the movie and some minor distortions such as in the weather-prayer scene. In general,  the movie managed to produce a great overview portrayal of the  character and career of an extraordinary American leader.
The film does accurately relate the leading role played by Patton in the  liberation of Sicily. His daring use of armour was crucial in the defeat of the German army on the island.
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However long after the film had ended I did think about one thing that irked me. And this was how the movie seemed to linger on the belief Patton was motivated by the desire to do better than General Montgomery, the victor  at El Alamein. Indeed the film probably reinforced the accepted conventional wisdom that these two driven and ambitious men hated each other.
There was a great personal rivalry between the two men.  They were both driven and wildly ambitious. The movie suggests that the rivalry between Montgomery and Patton was the main feature of the Sicilian Allied campaign and was perhaps a factor in why it ended so quickly with a  decisive Allied victory.
The rivalry was not as intense as the motion  picture suggests and the two men worked together when needed for the  good of the Allied cause.
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Born two years apart, both were commissioned within a year of each other  and both were wounded in France in the First World War. Both men  encompassed very different but very valuable characteristics in combat:  Monty-careful and meticulous, Patton-dashing and diplomatic.   Despite  the differences, both generals demonstrated striking similarities:  commitment to their careers, a ruthless egotism, interesting when you  consider neither held superior command. This did not impede their desire  for the limelight and fame in warfare, arrogance and the manipulation  of colleagues in high places to advance their careers.  Both were  machiavellian in their own affairs and self-interested in their own  personal progression.
The great rivalries amongst the Allies that made a real imact were Marshall and Brooke over war policy, Nimitz and MacArthur over resources, Eisenhower and Montgomery over strategy; and then between Percival and MacArthur for incompetence,  Patton and O'Connor for aggressiveness, MacArthur and Clarke for vainglory,  (and possibly  Clarke and Wavell for the stupidity of letting defeated enemies escape),  were the issues that defined the war for the Western allies.
The idea  that a competition between Patton and Montgomery was more important is cute, but naive. I am not even sure where the idea comes from. 
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Much is made of the bet between Patton and Montgomery over reaching Palermo in Sicily first, but in practical terms that was the only time in the war that Patton ever appeared on Montgomery's radar.
For the rest  of the war Monty was so much higher up the food chain than Patton that  he was unaware, or disinterested in Patton's opinions. Montgomery  was, by 1944, an experienced general who very successfully fought extensively in both combat and staff roles for 4 years throughout World  War One. (Patton got a combat command for a few weeks when the Germans  were already collapsing.) Montgomery led a division very successfully  through the Battle of France, and a corps through the crucial Battle of  Britain training and rebuilding years. He led an army in combat for two  years, through many successful battles both on defense and in attack.
By  1944 Patton had led a corps for a few months, and an army for a few weeks. For the very brief period of the Sicily compaign they were  theoretically equals in command, but probably only in Patton's mind. Montgomery saw Patton as an enthusiastic if amateurish old man but respected his aggressive boldness. Montgomery saw his HQ 'betting book' as a bit of fun (and was delighted when bet a  B17 by someone who should have known better).
When he and Patton met  and co-ordinated the Sicilian campaign Alexander seemed not interested in co-ordinating, Monty saw Palermo as a similar bit of fun to pursue, no bigger or smaller than the hundreds of other bets in the book.
Patton saw it, as he saw anything relating to his persona, as the most vitally important challenge of his whole life...up until the next one.  Montgomery lost a bet and moved on to the next challenge. Patton won but  didn't. (Or at least that is what bad writers have tried to suggest. I  think he moved straight on to the next challenge anyway.)
That  was the last time Monty and Patton were in direct competition, no matter what revisionists or romantics would say.
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The next time Patton was  allowed in the field he was one of half a dozen army commanders in  Monty's Normandy army group, and, familiarly, he did not arrive until  the Germans in Normandy were already collapsing. Very soon afterwards Eisenhower split off Bradley's army group, and Monty had no control, nor much interest, in what Patton was up to thereafter.
The  romantics like to suggest that thereafter Monty railed against Patton's supplies, and that Patton railed against Montgomery's caution. The truth is less foolish for both of them. In fact Montgomery railed  against Eisenhower's broad front strategy regardless of which of the  other sub-commanders was benifitting (to the point of Montgomery making  an offer to serve under Bradley as long as someone got single control to  pursue a single strategy). He railed against the diversion of resources  anywhere not at the main point where a thrust might have achieved early  victory.
Leaving aside whether that victory could have happened,  Montgomery's beef was with Eisenhower first, his appalling chief of supply Lee second, fellow Army Group Commanders who couldn't control the excesses of their subordinates like Bradley (and to a lesser extent) Devers third, and only then with the several army commanders who each tried to do their own thing.
In practical terms Montgomery seemed more appalled by the negative effects of the incompetence of Hodges (1st US Army,) and  the obnoxiousness of General De Gaulle's orders to 'his' army (French First Army), and perhaps even  the ineffectiveness of his own subordinate Crerar  (Canadian 1st army) , than he did by Patton's enthusiasms. There is  hardly a mention of Patton in his diaries through this period, compared  to several comments on Bradley and De Gualle, and endless ones on  Eisenhower.
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Patton too is being maligned by the pretense that his  war was taken up with a vain competition with Montgomery. Patton, like  Montgomery, was totally concerned with the main issue of defeating  Germany. But unlike Montgomery, he did not have Brooke  -  the Chief of Imperial General Staff - to rely on for support against  Eisenhower's broad front strategy.
Patton too was convinced that this was the wrong way to go, but to get his version of a thrust (with him at  the front) happening, he had to be a bit more manipulative than Montgomery.
Every word Patton used to wheedle and manipulate  support, or at least a blind eye to what he was doing, was designed to  get more resources from his superiors. Indeed, if he couldn't get them from Eisenhower, he was willing to steal them wherever he could, and  then get Bradley to pretend to not know what he was doing. In this he was quite willing to encourage Bradley's inferiority complex in relation  to Montgomery, and to happily manipulate Bradley into tantrums to get  what they both wanted, but it seems likely that Patton was more  interested in getting his way by making his superiors compete with  Montgomery, than in competing with Montgomery himself.
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Patton is  actually a more complex and clever character than the romantics give him credit for. His 'kill them even if they try to surrender' speeches in  Sicily were part of his stage management of troops, not part of his innate personality. HIs 'us against the world' propaganda was more  manipulative, not so much like Bradley's inferiority complex. He wanted to win, and he would use anything to get what he needed to win, even  ramping up his superiors to distrust their allies. But his genuine competitiveness with Montgomery at this stage was less about him and Montgomery, and more about him and how he could maneouvre others to  support him. He would have shown the same level of competitiveness, and  the same willingness to undermine, any competitor at this point, British, French, Russian or even American.
Montgomery on the  other hand only saw Patton as one more junior general syphoning supplies  from an inadequate source. Montgomery was in competition with  Eisenhower for control, and possibly with Bradley for resources. Minor  army commanders in other people's army groups only registered on his horizon if he could get their armies assigned to his army group.
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Just for amusement, it might be fun to consider how Montgomery and Patton might have worked together?
Montgomery was notoriously superb to serve under, no matter what your nationality.  British, Australian, New Zealander, South African, Indian, Canadian, French, Polish, and American troops who served under him  were all very happy to do so. So were their generals. Bradley certainly learned more  about being a field commander from a few months of Montgomery's distant mentoring than from anything Eisenhower ever did for him in their much closer relationship.
There is no doubt that Montgomery preferred effective subordinates to ineffective ones, and it seems possible that Patton would have made a preferable subordinate to Crerar or Bradley in his mind.
As for Patton, he would have served anyone who got him what he wanted. Had Montgomery offered him the chance to spearhead the attack into Germany, there is virtually no doubt that Patton would have  jumped at the chance.
Patton was not the racist that Bradley or Eisenhower were, and was happy to have black troops. He was not the American supremacist that Roosevelt or MacArthur were, and worked well with others (as long as they let him have enough lime light).
Had Montgomery been left as land forces commander, there is little doubt that he would have used Patton's aggression in a way that would have  made Patton much happier than Eisenhower's broad front strategy ever allowed.
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It is fun to imagine Montgomery as land forces commander using Patton's 3rd Army in conjunction with British 2nd to leapfrog ahead at top speed into Germany. The best British tactics were never the  broad front strategy that the worst American's like Marshall and Eisenhower fancied. They were always the 'hold the enemy, crumble the  enemy, breakthrough the enemy, and pursue with as much force as fast and  far as possible' skills that had worked since the development of  mechanised warfare in 1918. (As demonstrated by the Germans in Poland  and France and Russia, the British and Germans in North Africa, the  Japanese and British in Asia, and the Russians in Eastern Europe.)
Montgomery would have used his traditional two corps up, one back, one resting deployment, adapted to armies, to keep up the momentum. Patton's preferred tactics were almost exactly the same, and he and his 3rd  Army would have fit it like a glove into Montgomery's thrust strategy.
Personally  I think that the limited reality behind their competitiveness paid trumps in Sicily, and I wish that it had been repeated in France. Patton could not have been a worse Army group commander than Bradley was, and would almost certainly have been better.
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It is amusing to think of Patton and Montgomery effectively conspiring to destroy the broad front strategy while they got on with winning the war in the best spirit of competition. Although I have a sneaking suspicion that one of Patton's biographers was right to suggest that by 1945 he had suffered a few too many hits on the head, there is little doubt that he would have been almost as valuable to the Allied cause in Bradley's place against Eisenhower's policies directly, as he would have under Montgomery's army  group. That might have been a useful version of rivalry.
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Hypothetically Rewriting Assault’s Story + Some General Assault Opinions
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There’s a game my husband and I like to play when we watch a movie, play a game, or read a book that has a story that we don’t really enjoy or we enjoy certain parts of but not others.  We look at things we’d keep and things we’d change and we build a story from there-- sort of like an AU but we don’t really go into the writing part, we just stick to theorizing and mapping a general story.
I decided to play that game with Star Fox.  Not because I think Star Fox has a bad story but because sometimes I think the stories could have been handled better.  Note: for the rewrite game, I only really look at story, even for video games, I don’t really look at gameplay mechanics, but I do understand those have a lot to do with story potential so I do take it in as a factor... I just don’t bother to “rewrite” the mechanics, if that makes any sense at all.  Some of my list today will include boss encounters but I wouldn’t necessarily say those are mechanic-related... more like “event-related”.
I’ve mused a bit in the past about rewriting Adventures and Command and I do have plans to do a mock up of an Adventures remake eventually.  However, today I was thinking about how I would go about handling an Assault re-write in particular.  Much like Command and Adventures, I don’t have any beef with the core story but I do think there’s a few things that could’ve been better about Assault’s storyline-- like they had good ideas rolling but they didn’t quite refine them.
Under the cut because SUPER long.
My basic feelings on Assault are pretty positive.  I think the game is generally just fun and I like that it feels like the natural progression from SF64.  I liked getting to see planets we haven’t seen since the N64 era in better graphics and I liked seeing Star Wolf return.  I also just thought the aparoids were neat enemies. 
Generally speaking, though, when it comes to Assault, I think it suffers from the thing it tries to push the most-- the story.  I think a lot of people get caught up in thinking the story is better than it is because it’s the first game since SF64 that really follows the same Star Fox vibe without retelling the Lylat Wars.  Don’t get me wrong, the overall plot is great but the execution and pacing are... wonky.  Certain characterizations also take a hit in some regards but no one really talks about that when Command exists. That’s something we’ll talk about later on with this post.
That being said, Assault really does have a lot good going for it.  An absolute banger of a soundtrack, some great dialogue, a neat story synopsis, the introduction of cool characters like Panther and Beltino (who existed but was always off-screen), and just good levels.  
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So, here’s what I would add, I suppose, if I were to somehow have the ability to rewrite Assault.  Originally I had this in paragraph form, but I’ve made it into more of a list under topic segments with main points bolded for your viewing pleasure.  Some of these points might be considered nitpicky and while I do understand that yes, this is a game about space animals, I do hold the developers in high enough regard to make a game with a continuity that makes sense.
The Story Changes
- Reduce Pigma’s storyline in Assault.  This is the biggest one for me because a bulk of the plotline feels like a giant chase to just get at Pigma and it feels like it derails from the actual plot with the aparoids.  We only go to Sargasso because of Pigma.  We only go to Fichina and then back to Meteo again, because of Pigma.  That’s 3 levels in a 10 level game devoted to just tracking down Pigma and chasing him.  While it makes the build up to fighting Pigma kind of nice, I personally feel like the plot could be reduced to 2 levels.  If Assault overall was a longer game, I could see them making it 3 levels.  Overall, though, in its current state, I feel like the side plot overstays its welcome and the aparoids promptly get shoved to the side in favor of “Oh no, we gotta get to Pigma!” And I get the main motive here is to show how the aparoids affect people and because of the build up, it does a good job at showing how utterly terrifying the aparoids are.  But it’s still too long given the length of Assault’s story. The only alternative to this is make Assault longer, which... honestly, it should be.  
- Revise the scene with Tricky.  I’m obviously not well-versed in dinosaur biology but I’m pretty sure dinos didn’t grow that fast from what studying I HAVE done.  And why is he suddenly king now?  Did his parents die?  He seems not affected by this at all?  Like it’s a funny scene with him, Fox, and Krystal, but it’s odd if you really look at it.  Give us, as players, more context because I’m still not even sure what happened to make Tricky suddenly the leader and... big.  As a note, you’re gonna hear me gripe a lot about the Sauria level in this post.
- The Star Wolf + Peppy sacrifice is a low effort way to raise tension/stakes and then cop out.  Oldest trick in the book, imo, is to act like you’re going to kill off important characters only for them to be alive miraculously.  And let’s face it, as an audience we all know they aren’t going to kill those characters because it’s Nintendo and those characters are too beloved.  I would’ve forgiven them for only doing this with Peppy or Star Wolf, but when you tack them both together and throw in the fact they make it seem like you’re going to have to kill General Pepper too... yeah, it’s just a bit much of the same trope over and over again.  I wanted to put a note in here about how I’m fine with the Great Fox being “sacrificed” but overall, it needed to return to the series because of it’s icon status, but I think that’s more of a gripe at Command instead of Assault.
- Keep Pigma alive.  This will conflict with a point I have later on about the game consistently having characters cheat death for easy drama points but with Pigma, I would’ve kept him fully alive... but maybe with some physical damage from the aparoids.  I understand he’s semi-alive in Command and tbh I don’t know where I stand on that.  Why keep Pigma alive, you might ask?  I feel like his character has a lot more potential than being “just the greedy guy”.  Like he’s got good potential future villain material for future games and... if I’m honest?  I just don’t see Nintendo wanting to keep Pigma dead so why even bother killing him off?  They couldn’t even commit to him being dead in Command anyways so it seems very moot.
- Bring Bill and Katt back.  Assault is acts a bit like a big reunion of all of our SF64 favorites but our two favorite side characters are suspiciously missing.  Wouldn’t Bill be out on the front lines fighting against Andrew in the beginning?  Or maybe back in Katina?  And wouldn’t Katt inevitably show up in the midst of the invasion, maybe to pointedly check in on Falco?
- Bring Andrew back for the final fight. I think Andrew being defeated early into the game is fine overall but I think bringing him back in for a reunion final fight against the aparoids would serve to really solidify that it’s really everyone vs the invading aparoid force.  It would show that not only is Star Wolf willing to put aside their differences but so is basically everyone in the Lylat System in the name of survival.  Imagine the Venomians and Cornerians working together against an aparoid fleet, giving Star Fox and Star Wolf time to attack the queen?  I just think it’d be neat and it’d open up the potential for some fun banter mid-mission.  I do understand that quite a few people consider Andrew canonically dead after Assault but personally, I feel that his defeat left his fate questionable (I’m a staunch believer that unless there’s a body, they’re probably alive, especially for Nintendo games because, again, they never like to kill people off) so him returning in Command never really bothered me.  
- In general, reconsider some of the character portrayals.  Unfortunately, when a series has a different studio for each game, character portrayals will inevitably have inconsistencies.  While I give Namco a lot of credit for putting in oodles and oodles of detail into the game (particularly the levels), I think they failed in their portrayal of Fox, at the least, and Wolf is a considerable offender as well.  While it’s obvious that Fox in Adventures was effectively modeled off of Sabre even in terms of personality, Rareware was at least able to justify Fox’s newfound jaded attitude with the passing of many years and a distinct lack of steady income, resulting in the team being in disarray.  Assault’s Fox is a stark contrast to his cynical interpretation with seemingly no explanation other than maybe “Oh, I have more money and a gf, maybe I should behave myself”.  As if the sudden change in personality wasn’t random, Fox also just seems very blah, like a blank slate stereotypical shooter game protagonist dude with little to no emotion.  Wolf is less obvious but gets slated into a mentor-like role midway through the game and ends up in a respectful rivalry with Fox... which there’s nothing inherently wrong with that except for it happening abruptly (and, I mean, Peppy is right there).  But I take less issue with this and more of an issue with the fact that there’s an entire level establishing that Wolf now runs a crime den with effectively what seems to be an army and no one bats an eye at this.  He doesn’t even call on them to help with the aparoids.  Did they all die when the aparoids attacked Meteo?  Are they safe somewhere else?  Where do they go?  How was Sargasso able to operate without the CDF being on their doorstep with warrants for arrests?
- Don’t kill all the dinosaurs.  A bit of a dramatic statement but the ending screen that showed all the damage to Sauria really bothered me.  While I understand that the dinosaurs had less of a chance against the aparoids than a more technology-focused society like Corneria, I was a bit disappointed that the decision was made to just state that a lot of tribes had been wiped out.  I know this could easily be retconned in a future game and I feel like it should be.  “But why, Amalia?  Why are you disappointed by that?”  1) It’s a little too grimdark for my tastes.  2) The fact it all happened off-screen felt very hand-wavy.  And 3) It brings into question the entire point of Adventures.  Why did we bother to save this planet if it was going to be reduced to rubble and ash 1 year later?  Where were the Krazoa in all of this?  Why did they not make an appearance at all to try to stop the invasion with their alleged powers?  It just raises too many weird questions and I feel like Namco didn’t think it through too much.  Which I mean, sure.  Family, kiddo game.  I’m not asking for bigbrain plot and lore but I’m squinting at this bit because it does feel very contrary to the lore from the previous game.
- Make the aparoids more relevant.  As nice as it is to have a random bad guy from another galaxy, I feel like there was more that could be done with the aparoids in terms of their origins.  Tiny things, mind you, not huge revelations.  Off the top of my head, they could have been tied into Krystal’s backstory to help alleviate some of the complaints that she was too random to be added to the series’ main cast.  Alternatively, they could have been a product of Andross or even a weapon prototype from Corneria that fled the lab (I actually thought the game was leaning in that direction for a bit then just Nothing Happened).  I get that the vagueness of their origins leaves room for people to speculate and speculation is nice but... when you leave too many things unknown, it starts to feel less like giving fans room to interpret and more like just doing random things for the sake of it.  I think a lore tidbit here or there would work wonders for the aparoids instead of leaving them as just borg/zerg clones.
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Level-Based Changes
- Add either Aparoid RedEye or Aparoid General Scales as a boss to Sauria.  Given that this level mysteriously lacks a boss, which is just weird compared to the other levels, I think that they had the opportunity to add something cool to go along with the cinematic feel they were going for with Assault.  Assault’s cutscenes do play in a movie-like fashion and it’s clear they’re trying to make the game as epic as possible.  It’s a shame they had so much fodder for a great boss here but they failed to go through with it.  Alternatively: Add a Krazoa-Aparoid fusion.  Why?  Because Star Fox is about cool epic sci-fi and that would be cool epic sci-fi incarnate.
- Add a boss to the Aparoid Homeworld Level, aka the penultimate level.  Another one I felt was personally weird that there was no “final defense system” to challenge the team.  Would be cool to do an aerial battle over the aparoid planet with some giant flying aparoid.
- Be kinder to Sauria.  The level had some good homages but overall was incredibly small and incredibly short.  It felt like a bone tossed to Adventures fans but was not entirely true to the setting built by Rareware.  I’m... not even sure where the Sauria level is supposed to take place?  I presume it’s Walled City but it doesn’t really have the same color scheme or aesthetic?  Also where is my revised Adventures music?  Why do all the other levels get it but Sauria doesn’t? 
- Put some of those funky items from the multiplayer into the main campaign.  I don’t know why some of these things, items especially, were omitted unless it was purely due to time constraints.  I remember having missile launchers and jetpacks in the multiplayer and was a bit sad that they were not in the main campaign.  Retuning the levels and adding those in would be a nice breath of fresh air for the more tedious on-foot missions.
- More levels.  Self-explanatory.  Still sad we didn’t get the Zoness or Titania levels in the single-player mode.  
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I think all of the above changes would improve the game, though I recognize all of this is being said 16 years later after lots of time to contemplate Assault’s weaker points.  I’m not entirely certain how long Star Fox Assault took to develop but given that there’s obviously quite a bit scrapped from the game (an entire arcade mode was scrapped as well), I’m going to assume that the studio felt pressured to shove the game out the door and into the hands of customers.  It’s a shame, really, because I think a little bit longer in the oven would have done a lot of good.  Still, the product we got was good in its own right and a game that many people look back on fondly.  I haven’t gotten to replay it in years but I hope to quite soon.
You might wonder why I bothered typing this all out and I guess my point was this-- Assault was great but it wasn’t perfect, and while a lot of other games fall under a crushing amount of scrutiny, Assault seems to dodge it.  And don’t get me wrong-- I adore Assault.  But given that not many takes exist out there about rewriting it, I decided to give it a shot.  For variety’s sake.  
I do want to a mock up of a revised Assault story, which I think I will get to work on after completing this while all my ideas are still fresh in mind.  So stay tuned for that sometime in the near future.  I will also be doing my Adventures mock up at some point but probably not for a little bit as I do wanna focus some of my free time on actual fic-writing.
Anyways, if you stuck around this long, thank you for reading!  Have any changes you’d like to see to Assault if you could time machine your way back to the early 2000s?  Feel free to post in the comments, I’d love to read your ideas!
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aceofspadegrass · 3 years
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Testimony
Characters: Aguni Morizono, Niragi Suguru, Ann Rizuna, Last Boss, Arisu Ryohei, Usagi Yuzuha
Genre: Crack. It's just Y/N telling a story, but I, the writer, went off the wall and now you have the misfortune of figuring out who is who.
1.2k words
Remember when I was talking about writing a story that included none of the AIB characters names? Yeah, this is pretty much it. I didn't add all the characters, but then it would've just been a chore to decipher what I was even saying.
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Yin sits down at the table, the officer in front of her nodding their head in greeting, Yin keeping a blank face as they fold their hands in front of them.
“ You are aware why you have been called in here for, correct?” Yin hums, kicking their feet idly. “ Well, kind of! I was a witness, and you want my statement, right?” The officer nods, Yin nodding and tapping their chin in thought. “ Well, I can describe it pretty well, but only problem is that I kind of don’t know any of the names of the parties it involves. Do you mind if I just described them instead?” The officer waves at them to continue in response, Yin grinning as if they were the cat that caught the cream. “ Okay! Strap in, this is gonna be a doozy.”
“ Alright. Remember that anything that you say will be recorded and documented for evidence.”
Yin nods, smiling and eyes twinkling.
“ So! Basically I was walking down the street, right? Minding my own business, bought a snack at the nearby shop, munching away. Gotta make sure to keep my energy up, you know? And suddenly I see what was basically a giraffe wearing a rather sketchy fedora running past me, apparently either training to become the next Olympic runner, or he got in trouble with his mom and she’s coming to smack him sideways to Tuesday evening on a Wednesday morning.
So I turn and watch this oil spill book it, and when I turn back around I see several other people. One was this really pretty lady with fashion that I thought I’d only see in Vogue and the strut that makes me think she’s like some goddess coming to talk to the manager only to point out how terrible they were treating the staff, and the other was like…. dad material. He looked like he belonged in an army or something but would also totally have unironically cried during a sad scene involving a kid in a movie, but at the moment I’m pretty sure beefcake over there was gonna bust a skull open like a weak watermelon. Probably the burnt coffee bean wearing guy. The swan queen probably could’ve annihilated him with just a fucking stare, I swear.
So anyways, they walk past me and I’m pretty sure I got hit with so much raw authoritative energy I could’ve taken over the prime minister or something just by politely asking, and I couldn’t help but be like….. curious.”
“ So you went ahead and followed them.”
“ So I went ahead and followed them! Did you know giraffes run at 37 miles per hour? Crazy, isn’t it! Well this guy was actually running pretty darn fast, but then he kind of tripped and ate shit on the sidewalk. Not like, literally, that’s a figure of speech, but like he went bonk on that sidewalk. I think he was okay though, but then the army general looking guy grabs him and kind of pins him to the ground, and the fancy fashion lady just stands there to the side like a disappointed secretary who is standing behind the boss and only makes you feel super fucking tiny in that situation.
So the raccoon man is screaming, with papa beef on top and reprimanding him, and I have noooo clue what was going on here. That is until some more people show up. There was this guy that I’m pretty sure looks like he belongs in some cheesy superhero cartoon with how much tattoos he had on without it being like…. a bunch of pictures that cumulated, but like one coherent design that took up his whole body, and a guy who looks like he rolled out of bed at 4 in the afternoon in a shopping cart. This girl wearing a windbreaker was pushing the cart, and she looked really disappointed for some reason, and I think she was disappointed at the chocolate rice krispie man.
Now, the puppy looking fellow was clutching a bunch of shirts, a box of crackers, and there was a pack of toilet paper at his feet, so I’m pretty sure that either they stole a shopping cart, or the raisin man made the rest of this squad have to run from a nearby supermarket to chase him down. Either way, there’s a man who looks like he hasn’t showered in weeks in a cart, a disappointed mom, a marble countertop if humanised, a second, more disappointed mom, a rooster, and a puddle of tar mud just there in front of me, with the latter being hung up on each other. The kangaroo was winning though, but kangaroos are fucking built like a wrestler, so even I wouldn’t fuck with that. So there’s yelling, there’s a lot confusion, and I’m kind of alone in this because other people were doing other shit and didn’t get to see whatever the heck was going down here.
So finally the black bean guy is allowed to get up and gets a pat down, so I guess he stole something? I dunno, but the crane looking manager lady was the one to do it, with the other man holding him still. Guess he has a lot of fight in him. It was like holding a feral hissy cat at the vet, it was kind of funny to watch. I don’t know if they found something or not, because I couldn’t actually understand what they were saying. I think it was Japanese? But I can still sense the energy, and I guess the guy got in trouble.
Now, this is the part that you probably wanted to hear, officer. Because moments after whatever was going on, suddenly this car pulls up. Really nice car, standard brand and practically inconspicuous. It opens up, and apparently it was like….. some drive by robbery or something, but I really don’t know what the people wanted. Toilet paper? Crackers? A shirt that was very neon yellow?
Anyways, what I saw was nothing less than something that came out of a movie. So one of the robbers tried to steal from them by pointing I think a gun at them, but the buff potato attacks and very quickly disarms them. Meanwhile, the one that kind of was wearing a pink peep jacket? Yeah, apparently she wasn’t having any of it as well when another approached the trolley containing what might have been her best friend or something, because she absolutely punches them in the face before they even got too close. Oh, and remember the blackberry yoghurt parfait and the guy that got tackled? Yeah, so turns out the pool noodle giraffe whips out a slingshot from his pocket and pops a rock into one of the robber’s eye, and the tiger man just takes his sandal off and smacks them like a grandma. It was very weird to watch.
But it like…. worked? Somehow? Because these robbers were, no offence, dumb as shit to try to rob a group of six people, especially when one looks like he could punch a tiger and not care at all. So they were knocked down, I guess the shopping cart chilling border collie man called the police, which is when you guys came down to arrest said robbers, aaaannnnd here we are!” Yin finishes, smiling proudly.
The officer can only stare at them, trying to process whatever the hell that story meant.
“…. Alright, thank you.”
Yin nods again, still smiling at the officer until they were escorted out, the officer looking up at the camera that recorded everything. Their eyes only showed pure confusion and a silent hope that the rest of the statements weren’t as….. chaotic.
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bl--ankhaeji · 3 years
Text
Five Months(yuta)
Pairing ~ Yuta x Reader
Genre ~ A little bit of angst, fluff, humor if you can find it and bittersweet
Warning ~ uhh I don’t really have any 
A/N ~ so for this i felt like my writing changed a little. like so far I haven’t written anything with this type of atmosphere or theme so it was something new and I really enjoyed writing this. I also want to say thank you to my beta readers Xiami and Mylin. 
W. Count ~ 2.4k
Hii, before we get into the story. Wanted to let you guys know that this is my fic for the Secret Santa collab that @neoculturechristmas held. @neonun-au I am your secret santa 😊 or 🎅🏽anon. I am sorry I didn’t talk to you that much in your asks, but when we did I really enjoyed it. I hope you enjoy.  
On to the story
You and Yuta have been broken up for around five months now. Over what, you truly don’t even remember. Some petty argument got out of hand and it caused you guys to break up with each other in the heat of anger. Usually when things like that happen the couple gets back together within a week and everything is fine, but sad to say that’s not what happened with you and Yuta. 
You both were entirely too stubborn for your own good, and with both of you refusing to even so much as speak to the other you managed to stay broken up for five months. And that’s what led you to where you are right now. Stranded on a snowy mountain trail with said ex. 
The sound of snow crunching underneath your boots was deafening,but even this noise couldn't drown out the sound of your thoughts. You ask yourself, how did what was supposed to be a quick stroll on a beautiful snowy trail to clear your mind end up becoming a meet up with your ex?
Oh, maybe it’s because life is a bitch that loves to fuck with you. What are the odds that you and your friends plan a Christmas trip to the same resort as Yuta and his friends? And what are the odds that your cabins are right next to each other? And what are the fucking odds that you both picked the exact same time to step out for a walk on the same trail, and you both manage to get lost? 
“Yuta, I really don’t think you know where the hell you’re going.” You say halting your steps, the icy tone in your words almost rivaling the cold outside. You both have been lost and aimlessly walking around for the past 20 minutes and the temperature continued to drop as it was getting later and later into the night. Yuta swore he knew the way back, but you were cold and tired and seriously doubting this ability. 
When you first realized you were lost, you tried to retrace your steps only to find out the consistently falling snow had already covered them, making it look as if no one had even been there. At first you thought, maybe this was a sign, an opportunity for you and Yuta to rekindle your relationship, but you quickly realized how wrong you were. 
Yuta’s hand reached up to his head, “Just, give me a minute okay. I know how to get back, we're almost there.” He said as he continued to pace forward. 
“Yuta, stop! Just fucking stop and admit that you don’t know where the fuck we are or where we are going! This is just like you, I see you haven’t changed in these last five months.” You scoff looking away as you wrap your arms around your waist, trying to generate some warmth.
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?!” A fiery Yuta inquires, turning around to face you. 
“It means that even with our breakup, you still can’t admit when you’re wrong and don’t know something. You keep pushing at it, not listening, feeling like you have to know it all on your own.” The words fell out of your mouth unforgivingly, packing a punch in every single syllable. Finishing your statement, you roll your eyes, shifting your weight to your right side. 
“Wow, isn’t that fucking rich coming from you. I’m not the one who bottles everything up and whenever they feel is convenient enough decides to blow up on her boyfriend for no reason. Just like the one that broke us up, this argument was started by you. So don’t act like I’m the only problem.” Just like Yuta said, you may have started the argument but he seemed intent on finishing it. 
The cold was suddenly unbearable, and all you wanted right now was to just go to sleep in a warm bed. No words were spoken after that, and like that you and Yuta just pushed past it, continuing to walk forward and ignoring the venomous words you both spoke in hopes of forgetting this event. This really was no different than five months ago. 
The want to cry your heart out was almost all consuming, but you didn’t let a single tear fall. In hopes of not appearing weak and also because you believed with your whole heart that if you were to cry right, now the tears would turn to ice on your face instantly from the cold. So you kept your head down, trying to not think about where you actually were. 
You were completely zoned out until you heard, “Y/n, we’ve made it.” Raising your head, you see a wooden cabin in the distance. Finally, you thought, it was starting to get dark. You instantly start sprinting to the cabin. “Wait up.” Yuta said as he started to run behind you. The sounds of crushed snow and huffed breaths filled your ears. 
Upon getting closer to the cabin you realize something is off. Looking through the uncovered window on the door, you realize that this wasn’t the cabin that either of you currently occupied. You could tell not only from the emptiness in the house but also from the lack of lights and the quiet that rang through the air. “Yuta, I don’t know where we are but this isn’t either one of our cabins.” You tell him through bated breaths, your teeth slightly chattering, looking as he slows down until he stops in front of you, also out of breath. 
“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks as he tries the doorknob only to see that it’s locked.
“I mean that this isn’t where we’re staying. It’s just a random cabin in the woods.” Yuta swears loudly at the revelation. You both are stranded at some random cabin at night while it’s snowing and almost below freezing outside. “What the fuck are we gonna do? We could barely manage to find our way here. There's no way we’ll be able to navigate in the dark and find our way back.” 
“We have no choice, we have to break in. Our clothes and shoes are almost soaked through from the melted snow and I can practically hear your teeth chattering. Also, I’m hungry.” At the mention of food your stomach chooses now to rumble loudly almost as if agreeing with Yuta’s statement. 
A small chuckle leaves Yuta’s lips, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go hungry.” He proceeds to take off the flannel he has underneath his snow jacket and wraps it around his hand making a fist. He lifts his fist getting ready to punch the glass before you stop him, your hands coming around fist. 
“Woah! Stop right there, we can’t just go vandalizing this random cabin hell we’re already breaking and entering. Just step aside, I got this.” You tell the man as you push him aside. You slightly tilt over, surveying the type of lock on the door and inwardly rejoice at the fact that there’s no bolt lock and it’s just a regular handle lock which seems to be quite loose. 
Good thing you brought your wallet in case you went to the convenience store. Taking out an old card, you proceed with breaking into the cabin. Sliding it in between the door handle and the frame, a smile takes over your face when you feel the door give and start to open. 
Standing straight, you look towards Yuta while inwardly praying the owners don’t have a silent alarm for the cabin. “Woah, that was kinda hot. When did you learn to do that?” He questions, leaning against the wall of the cabin watching you with predatory eyes. 
Something stirs in your stomach at the look on his face. Deciding to ignore it, you just say, “A lady never tells.” and waltz into the cabin with a wink. You hear a low whistle flow from his mouth as he follows you into the currently uninhabited cabin.    
You look around the room searching for a heater, preferably gas when the room suddenly gets flooded by light. “We have electricity, so that’s good.” Yuta says before he makes his way to the kitchen, “Now let's look for some food.” You hear a couple cabinets open and close before Yuta finds some canned food. Luckily, there’s three cans of beef soup that you guys can heat up and eat. 
Yuta gets the food going and you continue your search for a heater, finding it near the back of the room. You quickly turn it on in order to warm yourself up, while proceeding to take off your wet jacket and boots. It was a good thing the wood floor was covered with a rug. Yuta calls your name, telling you the food was ready, and you walk to the kitchen reluctantly, leaving behind the warm rug underneath your feet. 
You take the first sip of your soup, the warmth it radiates heating you up internally as it travels down your throat, and part of you feels relieved. The prospect of freezing to death wasn’t knocking at your door anymore and you had food in your system, but you and Yuta eat your soup in silence. Though the room was draped in a comfortable warmth and you guys weren’t yelling at each other you still couldn’t help but feel like something between you two just wasn’t right. 
After washing the dishes, you make your way back to the main room, tuning in on the softness of your sock clad feet padding against the wood floor. You spot Yuta standing near the heater and you notice that he had draped your wet jackets above the heater, possibly so they would be dry by the time you guys left in the morning. 
Lowering yourself to the rug, you sit down criss cross, busying yourself by braiding the tassels on the sides of the rug. You hear Yuta clear his throat as he sits across from you on the spacious rug. “Do you want to play a game?” He asks you looking up from his hands to gouge your reaction. 
“Sure.” you reply, waiting for him to tell you the game. He replies, telling you he wants to play          questions, and you prepare yourself for the possible shit show that might ensue. 
“I’ll go first. Are you still cold?” His simple question takes you by surprise. That’s not even close to what you expected for him to ask.
“Yea, just a little though.” You reply honestly shrugging your shoulders, “My turn.” What did you want to ask? you thought to yourself. You didn’t want to lower the atmosphere with a question about your relationship just yet, so you also decided to play it safe. “Are you still hungry?” 
“You know I am.” He quips a little smile playing at his lips. “Next question. Since you’re still cold, can I cuddle you right now?” Your eyes grow larger at his question and you can’t deny that the thought of it made your heart race a little. A slow nod is all the answer Yuta needs before he is scooting over behind you wrapping his arms around your torso. 
You never got to tell Yuta how good this hairstyle was on him. The bleached hair with lilac highlights fit him so well, and that’s all you could think as his head finds a home on the side of your neck and his semi long hair tickles the side of your face. You’re so focused on the sensation of his body against yours filtering his warmth to you that you don’t notice that it is now your turn for a question. 
“Y/n, it’s been your turn for a while.” Yuta speaks as his warm breath dances on your skin.
“Why have you not tried to mend things with me?” You don’t know if it’s just your curiosity or if it’s your brain trying to ruin the moment so you don’t get hurt but you decide it’s time to bring up your relationship.
“Well you can’t say you’ve tried all that hard either. It goes both ways y/n-” 
“Actually,” You interrupt him, “I did try, once. It was three months into our breakup and I was tired of missing you and missing us and I wanted it all to be over and to just put this behind us. So I went over to your house to mend things and I saw some girl leaving, and before you say I jumped to conclusions, I saw her kiss you.” Averting your eyes to your sweaty palms, you watch yourself rub them against your knees. You can feel the telltale sting in your eyes signifying future tears.
“That- Y/n no it’s really not what you think.” You feel Yuta’s arms wrap tighter around you. “That girl was a project partner and she came over so we could work on it, but she had heard that me and you broke up so she thought it was okay to try and shoot her shot by kissing me. I didn’t kiss back, nor did I enjoy it. I even ended up doing the rest of the project on my own.” 
You turn to look at Yuta to see if he’s telling the truth and you see no hints of falsity. Instantly you feel stupid, and you go to look back at the floor until Yuta grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.  
“My turn. If I were to tell you that I was willing to change for us right now would you believe me?” His eyes burn intensely as he waits for your reply.
“If I were to tell you that you don’t have to change for us would you believe me?” Was your reply and you could see the hope forming in his irises
“If I were to tell you I still love you-” His words fall off as your lips meet his and they become occupied with something else. 
Five months. It had been five months since you heard his voice. It had been five months since you felt him against you. Five months since you tasted his lips. Five months since he had last declared his love. 
If you could go back in time and make it to where you never had to suffer that drought without him, you would. But for now you just wanted to enjoy the time you would get from today forward.   
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ffwriterbts · 3 years
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Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 2
AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! I’m also looking for a beta reader or two for this story, if you’re interested in that! Just shoot me a message or leave a comment and I’ll get in touch!
Word Count: 2455
Warnings: None
Posted: 12 Dec 2020
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Eventually YN fell asleep, but she couldn’t remember when. When she woke up, however, she was laying down, with the wolf’s massive head resting on her stomach. Absently, she strokes the soft fur around his ears, sighing and curling into the blanket. She can’t help but love the feeling of it between her fingers, smiling to herself as she thinks semi-clearly about the events of the night for the first time. 
YN is completely shocked by the events thinking about them now. This giant wolf not only understands her, but he talks back. He was comfortable in her home, the doors were big enough to take him in easily, and he was oddly sweet, in making her finish the chicken. And to top it all off, he was severely injured! Taking a quick glance at the bandages, YN has a passing wonder as to how much healing the wolf had done overnight. 
Quite suddenly, the wolf lets out a short growl, and YN jumps. The massive head lifts, looking her in the eye, her hand still tangled in the fur behind his ears. It seems like forever that the two stare at each other, eyes locked, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. 
He breaks the intense eye contact, turning his great head and yawning before standing. YN watches in awe as the wolf stretches, careful of his injury, before he turns back to look at her expectantly. 
‘Eat?’ 
The voice, low and clear and much less pained, startles the girl into motion. 
“Yes of course, let me make you some meat. How’s beef sound? I’ve still got a lot of that in the fridge.” YN stands, quickly clearing the blankets and pillow from the ground. Hearing no clear objections, YN heads into the kitchen, ready to prepare enough food to feed an army. 
She doesn’t pay too much attention to where the wolf is or what he is doing, but she can feel his eyes following her from one place to the other, and she can feel the draft from the door that he had nudged open. Quietly, she explains what she’s doing to the wolf, wanting him to be comfortable. 
She couldn’t have explained why she felt the need to tell the wolf everything she was doing, but for some reason she felt that it was important that this wolf trusted her. 
It is because of this that YN is in the middle of explaining why she prefers to use one seasoning brand over the other when the wolf lets out an ear-shatteringly loud howl. She flinches so hard she almost spills the cooking meat, hands flying to cover her sensitive ears as she whips around to find where the wolf is and what he’s doing. 
The great wolf, his beautiful black coat shining in the morning light, is standing just outside her back door, eyes gliding over the trees as he lets out another howl, his face turning up to the sky. He looks like he is waiting for a response, and YN can tell that he got one when his head snaps sharply to the left of the small path YN loved to take. 
Quite suddenly, the wolf turns around, padding back into the house and partially shutting the door behind him. He leaves enough room that he could stick his nose or paw into the crack and open it if he needed to, giving himself an out. YN lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the wolf returns to lazily lying in a patch of sun in the kitchen, his attention fully on YN and her movements while she makes the food. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the wolf to leave just yet. 
                                                           ~~~
The rest of the morning and the afternoon go well, with no hitches or startles. YN quickly falls into the habit of telling the wolf all the things she’s doing, not wanting him to be startled by anything she’s doing, and the wolf just watches her, not reacting much to what she does, and instead occasionally bumping his head into her hand for a light scratch behind the ears. 
When YN changed his bandage after they ate, she was shocked to see how much he had healed. While the wound was still clearly very tender, it looked like it had been healing for weeks or months instead of just a few hours. YN shook it off, deciding that it was just some strange ability this even stranger wolf had. It had been shown to her clearly before this point that he was special in more ways than one, so why not have accelerated healing? 
After the bandages were changed, and YN told the wolf just how well he was healing, the pair went back into the living area. YN took a seat on the lovely leather couch her uncle had left her, taking her usual seat and telling the wolf that he could come up if he wanted and was able. With a small noise that YN couldn’t place, the wolf clambered onto the sofa, laying his great head in her lap again. 
Without a second thought, YN turns on the TV and absently begins to stroke the fur around the wolf’s ears, relaxing at the repetitive motion and mindless noise. Together, they sit like that for a few hours, both of them resting and healing and mulling over the events that had happened to both of them. 
                                                             ~~~
There they stayed, for a long while, both half asleep and mulling over the events of the past 24 hours. YN was slowly coming to terms with everything that had been happening around her, with all of the weird things this strange, inky wolf could do. Absently, she wondered what else the wolf could do, and if the fanciful bedtime stories her uncle used to tell her were actually true. 
The wolf seemed to be resting peacefully, seemingly completely unaware of the turmoil swirling around in YN’s head. The wolf was just waiting, wondering when the rest of his pack would get there, and what the determination about YN would be. He knew that, despite his growing fondness for the strange human, if the rest of the pack didn’t share his liking for her, he would be forced to do things he would rather not do. 
When the door bursts open, YN might as well have jumped completely out of her skin. When before there was relative silence and peace, the room now had an unknown number of bodies snarling and pawing around. YN was understandably terrified, not having any idea as to what was going on or how that would affect her. 
The black wolf that she had been sharing her home with for the past day rose to his feet, eyeing up the other wolves that had entered the room. YN could feel the tension as the black wolf snarled, snapping as the other wolves did the same. All she could think about were the sharp, gleaming teeth and huge bodies around her in a way that was almost suffocating. 
Fear was rolling off the girl in waves, to the point that the wolves all were put on edge, looking for a threat deserving of that great amount of terror. 
It takes a couple minutes, but eventually all the bodies in the room calm down. YN gets off the couch and heads towards the kitchen, giving herself the illusion of an escape that puts her mind at ease. At this point, she is able to see that a  beautiful grey wolf and two light brown wolves have joined the black wolf she had opened her home to. 
Her living area is filled with the sounds of the wolves “talking” to each other, which YN decides not to break until there is a reason to. 
‘Who are you?’
Once again, the voice is directly in YN’s head, but this time it isn’t the black wolf. It seems to be coming from the grey wolf, but YN couldn’t be sure of that. 
“I’m YN, I moved in a few months ago. My uncle left me the house when he passed.” She answers simply, eyes flitting between the new wolves as “her” wolf comes to stand beside her. There seems to be some sort of silent communication going on between them that YN isn’t privy to, though she feels that it’s important for some reason she can’t place her finger on. 
‘Niece? Good.’ 
The same voice is in her head, and the fierce look in the eyes of the wolves fades into a softer, more general one. YN is confused by the statement, and the actions, remaining on edge, awkwardly shifting on her feet. 
“So, uh, do you guys want some of the beef I made earlier? I don’t know how far you guys have gone or have yet to go but food’s always a good idea, right?” YN can feel her ears burning with an unknown embarrassment, as she looks between all of the wolves before her. 
One of the light brown wolves yelps and heads towards YN, who puts her hands up on instinct, fear rising in her chest that she was going to be the one on the menu. Instead of attacking her through, the massive animal licks her palms, yelping some more as the word ‘eat’ is exclaimed into her mind. 
Letting out a little giggle and petting the massive head before her, YN is put more at ease, smiling as she turns and walks into the kitchen properly. 
“Well, I’m not quite sure how I’ll do this, because I only have one of these big bowls and there are four of you here, but I’ll figure it out.” YN muses to herself, again telling the wolves everything she’s doing so they don’t think she’s up to something, completely unaware of the fact that each and every one of the wolves in her home can read every one of her thoughts with complete and utter ease. 
“Oh! I have a baking sheet! I can just put it on there and you guys can share, yeah?” YN asks, dropping to her knees to rustle through a cabinet and find the baking sheet in question. Hearing no complaints, YN prepares the meat for the wolves, placing it carefully on the floor, holding onto one corner so it wouldn’t slide around on them. The two brown wolves quickly move to take tentative bites, the more playful of the two occasionally tossing his head over towards YN to receive a few scratches before returning to his eating. 
Once they finish, YN takes and dutifully cleans all the dishes she had made that day, ears straining to make sure she wouldn’t be attacked from behind, but yet trusting them enough to turn her back to them. She sings softly as she works, playful kid songs that she used to sing with her grandparents as she did her chores, inadvertently playing those loving memories for the wolves in her room as she does so. 
By the time she has finished with her chores, she turns to find the black wolf asleep directly behind her in a nice patch of sun, the grey wolf is carefully watching her actions from the corner of the room, and the two brown wolves laying further away, also having found nice patches of sun to lay in. YN smiles to herself, finding the sight of the wolves lounging in her space oddly sweet, before stepping over the black wolf, crouching down beside the great beast, giving him a few soft pets to partially rouse him, waiting for his eyes to open before letting him know that she would be checking his wounds and changing his bandages. 
She could feel the shift in tone as the great wolf let out a bit of a whine as the bandages come off, the others perking up a bit to watch what YN was doing, immediately ready to jump to his defense if she were to try to hurt the wounded wolf any more. 
Weary of the eyes on her, YN sets about making sure that she has everything she needs to clean the wound and change the bandages with as little pain to the wolf as possible. 
“Alright wolf, this is the part that stings, I’m so sorry.” She mutters under her breath as she does what has to be done, impressed by the amount of healing that’s been done already. 
“At this rate, you’ll be good to go by late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” YN sighs, taking the old bandages and throwing them out, before turning towards the wolves again. 
Checking the time, YN shakes her head and explains to the wolves that she is going to go to the study and write, as that’s what she usually does during this time, and that they are welcome to come with her if they want to. Turning on her heel, she heads towards the study on the second floor, fully expecting the wolves to either leave, or to just stay where they were. She really did have work to get done, regardless of the strange wolves that seemed way too comfortable in her space. Deadlines were deadlines, and she really didn’t want to have to crunch out a crap chapter for her editor, regardless of everything going on around her. 
What YN didn’t expect was for the black wolf to follow right behind her, limping slightly as he goes, but following nonetheless. Or for the two brown wolves to half-bark at each other, following behind their inky counterpart much more playfully, bumping into each other in a way that YN would have said must have been painful. Or for the grey wolf to follow behind them, much more somber than the duo in front of him, moving smoothly and surprisingly silently through the house.
“You do know there’s no sun to lay in, the study is the innermost room. Please don’t mess anything up, if you can help it, the study is my private place, really.” YN speaks much softer than she had been, causing the wolves to pay more attention to her words than before, feeling the importance of them. 
She opens the door, smiling to herself at the sight of the beautiful old books, the scattered journals, the overstuffed-and-ancient chairs, the slightly dusty paintings on the walls from artists YN couldn’t hope to know, the soft lighting, everything. It was comforting, but packed full of memories, some of which were still too painful and fresh to think of. 
YN heads over to the giant desk, opening her laptop and settling into the seat. She was aware of the four pairs of eyes that followed her movements, and she similarly followed theirs as they each found areas to curl up in. The grey wolf stayed by the door, facing it as if to make sure nobody tried to come in. The two brown wolves circled around the room a bit, before settling down by the overstuffed couch against one of the walls, both of them moving around periodically. Something in the back of YN’s mind told her that they were young, restless in a way that gave away their age.
It was the black wolf, however, that captured most of YN’s attention. He decided to place himself directly behind the huge desk chair, similarly positioned to the grey wolf, in the way that he seemed to be there for some sort of protection. She thought it was strange, the way these giant wolves were being so gentle, so protective. 
They settle in like that, with YN quickly getting immersed in the chapter she needed to finish, words flowing out of her in a way that made her feel almost buzzed. She loved that feeling- the feeling of creating, of making something out of nothing and breathing life into something so dead as a piece of paper or a computer screen. 
The whole scene was peaceful, in her opinion. She felt protected, she had ideas flowing out of her, and despite the fact the desk and it’s accompanying chair were both way too big for her and a little uncomfortable, she absolutely adored the study and all it had to offer. For whatever reason, it felt to her like home- the wolves in her space, the ideas, the old-artsy style of the room, all of it. 
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second-chance-stray · 3 years
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RP Log: Dorn and Cravs talk over a campfire.
Cravendy Hound - Weather and the coming of night would interrupt Dornn and Crav’s training session, though by the time they stopped, they had already been beating each other up for several bells. With rain at their backs, they would find shelter underneath a rocky alcove and watch as the sky steadily went from blue to black.
Cravendy Hound had kept an eye out for firewood and, by the time they settled, she had gathered a sizable pile. For now, she simply dumps the wood onto the ground and takes a seat next to it, exhausted.
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn had just about finished the wrapping of his old bandages--his ivory bicep now surrounded with a pristine, new layer of cloth coddling it warmly. Once the lass found her footing back, the male planted himself on his knees, dipping his chin approvingly of her yield. The brittle clink and brutish thud of the wood, as it piled together, prompted him to wind his palm lower, diving it into the confines of his pocket... And withdrawing a moderate pouch from within. Fishing thereonafter inside, he finally plucked out a diminutive, crimson crystal, before chucking it haphazardly into the midst of the wood, and gripping each piece of lumber readily, assembling a proper pyre upon a circle of stones. His runic palm danced alight anew, as he bore it before the hearth--and with the ignition of the runes, so too did the crystal within the wood grow saturated with fiery aether... Until a spark came to life, rupturing from its breast. Clapping his palms together, he drew back, exhaling profoundly. "...Aye, there we are."
Cravendy Hound takes half of her hair in hand and wrings it out like a washcloth. A line of water drips down between her fingers and falls from her wrist. It seemed every outing she went on resulted in her becoming absolutely drenched - perhaps it was Llymlaen? It certainly seemed that the gods had some beef with her. With a sigh of relief, she sidled up to the fire and warmed her palms.
Cravendy Hound: “I’m gonna be feelin’ this for days, ugh...” She gives her arm a painful stretch, sure of the bruises that were hidden underneath her glove. “Guess I should’ve expected as much, given that ye’ve been trainin’ on rocks for who knows ‘ow long.”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn gripped the loose end of his bandage betwixt his fangs, straightening it firmly, as he tied the remnant around his arm until the runic light was snuffed out from beneath. A wholly entertained rumble stirred within his breast, hinting at his approval of her predicament. Shuffling on all the closer, he'd rip the bandage's end off with a jerk of his burly neck, before planting both of his paws atop his thighs, wistfully exhaling. "...Mm, not too long. Should be 'round two moons now, dependin' on what day it be t'day..." Admittedly, the lattermost part infused his voice with a lasting confusion, only to be broken by a raise of his palm behind his head, idly scratching away at his pelt. "...Eh, apologies fer the sudden downpour earlier. Seems I let loose on me control a tad too much, so do try to dry up now, aye?"
Cravendy Hound shifts forward, arms wrapped carefully around her knees. Now that her body had time to relax, it was like all her soreness could now be at the forefront. Cravs lets out a hiss as she moves in just the wrong way for a split second. “Well, when did ye start? And don’t tell me ye’ve been out in the wilds this entire time. Don’t ye come back to town for supplies?”
Cravendy Hound - Dornn’s second claim goes unnoticed at first - she’s too busy warming up by the fire and licking her wounds to notice his odd statement immediately. She makes a sound of agreement but, after a delay, tired contentment twists into confusion. “Whuh? Are ye claimin’ control over the weather? It did get stormy back there but...”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn appeared all too befuddled by the erstwhile sentiment, prompting his furred noggin to turn sideways in a quizzical tilt. "Nay, I... Hunt fer my supplies? Y'can find just about all you need in the wild, from berries t' meat an' lumber alike. The Shroud is known fer its rich game, 'fter all." The Aerslaentean tint to his voice swelled with pride, as his Northerner accent grew all the bolder. "Not that the Lohengarde will tell ye aught different. Twelve know me life's condemned t' their company more oft than not, as it seems..." A fond smile washed those words down, before his palm swatted the idle recollections away. "Bah! I claim no mastery o'er the elements, nay. 'Tis one of the highest staples of our people to possess such skills to command the weather... Yet it comes with some ease, with a clear plateau at yer disposal... As well as the teeny-tiny presence of the Red Moon's vast aetherial reserves amplifyin' me command o'er the weather. Blame me uncle fer puttin' me on this path." With a somber shrug of his bulky shoulderblades, he peered up at her, inspecting her thoroughly. "So, a vaunted... Drunkard an' ne'er-do-well, then? Strange track record ye've claimed so far, accordin' to that runt from afore."
Cravendy Hound mouth curves into a smile. “The Shroud is also known fer, what’re they called...the Elementals? So ye best be careful, unless ye want a swarm of bees to be sent yer way for takin’ too much honey. That, and I’ve never found a good bottle of drink in the wilds.” With that, she pulls out a metal flask half full of liquor and unscrews the top. After taking a hearty sip herself, she offers it to him over the fire. “‘’Ere ye go, weather boy.”
Cravendy Hound: “Seems...dangerous to be tappin’ into that aether. Ye must ‘ave a good reason for seekin’ such power,” Cravs muses, gaze shifting over towards Dalamud’s general direction. “Ye best be careful to not let it taint and control ye.” She raises a brow.
Cravendy Hound then stares back into the fire, red refractions dancing in the pit of her sea blue eyes. A somber mood takes hold. “That’s a good way of puttin' it. A lotta folk get riled up by the way I live, or the fact that I’m still livin’. Or both.” She lets out a prolonged breath. “And it’s fair, most of the time.”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn hoisted an index digit aloft knowingly so, waving it up and down as he spoke. "Somethin' akin to that. The Elements 'ave yet to catch me, alas an' alack. All you hafta do is know how to conceal yer aetherial print with that of earth, wind and stone." Though, the mention of honey /did/ make his ears perk up at attention. "Kind of ye t' remind me, I could go fer fetchin' a comb or two right 'bout now..." Regardless, the offered flask made him rumble with even more curiosity, yet his customs compelled him to accept the offering, gingerly grabbing it out of her palm's domain. "Many thanks, yet I be 'ardly a -boy,- tsch." Peering over his shoulder as he pressed the drink to his lips, his concealed hues scoped out the outline of the lesser Moon. A generous chug or two, and he'd take abandon of the lid, handing it over with a hearty sigh. "...Aye, I ain't got plans t' mingle meself with whate'er that abomination behind me be. As fer ye, lil' munchkin..." His keen hues refocused upon her form, pondering over her own aetherial stream. "All the more of a reason t' piss 'em off with spite, I'd say."
Cravendy Hound takes back her flask. Without hesitation, she finishes off whatever’s left and shoves the thing back into her pocket, not bothering to cap the now emptied container. “Oy, if yer gonna be callin’ me shite like munchkin, then I can call ye whatever I want, -weather boy-.” She chuckles to herself. Both names fitted terribly, like a baby’s glove on a hulking beast. But that just gave her more reason to use them.
Cravendy Hound: “I’m done bein’ like that....or at least, I’m tryin’. Only so far ye can go til ye find the ‘ole ye’ve dug is too deep to get out.” She shakes her head. “Maybe it’s already too deep, but one can try to make things better anyway.”
Cravendy Hound: “‘Aven’t figured out the logistics, though, of ‘ow to make up to someone who wants ye dead without givin’ up my ‘ead as an peace offerin’.” Cravs shrugs.
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn kept a valiant vigil over her form as she spoke her case, his lips twisting into a half-smirk as she insisted on the nicknames. His barreled breast soon slumped thinner, as he exhaled a generous gale... Though her story had him issue no sentiment until it was fully told. At length, he'd plant his palms back onto his thighs, a timid growl rumbling in his chest. "Mm... Matters are e'er as simple or as complex as we think 'em to be. The truth is always somewhere inbetween." Nodding sagely, his digits patted against the plate of his legs, ere her resumed. "Northerners value deeds o'er empty words and silvery tongues. It has proved a grand solution t' solvin' disputes--either by trials by combat, or by feats o' heroism t' redeem one's name. Sometimes, all ye hafta do is look back to tradition, an' a simple solution may present itself, lass."
Cravendy Hound cranes her neck downwards and places her hand above her neck, each finger balanced on a boney ridge. Face hidden by untamed locks of hair, she lets out an even longer sigh. “But we’re not in the North, brother. We’re ‘ere. And specifically, we’re where Ul’dahn influence can reach, and the games they play in court are far beyond me.”
Cravendy Hound lifts back up and pulls her hair back behind her shoulders. Her eyes remain downcast, haunted. But the moment passes. “So, son of Hyrtfyr, ye claim to be a captain but I don’t see any crew. It seems clear to me yer in some kind of trouble. What ghosts do ye ‘ave locked in the closet?”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn balled up a fist proper with the might of his right hand, his pale, bare thumb stroking over the index digit next to it. "Ul'dahn courts, huh..." He mused to himself, seemingly drowned in a deeper well of thought. "We be not in the North, aye--but peoples' hearts dance the same, even if a few scores more cowardly they be. Though, I be curious as to who 'zactly ye've stepped on, now..." On the subject of his own ghosts and mates, he momentarily fell quiet, only to wave a dismissive paw away. At length, he'd raise it to his breast, pressing the fist against his collarbone. "Eh, I'm 'ardly worth talkin' 'bout, as are me... Ghosts. Still, if ye've a mind to visit me crew, they live in no mountains, I promise ye--fancy a lil' hideout in the Mists, even. Can show ye 'round one day, if ye'd like."
Cravendy Hound is taken by a bout of incredulous snickering. “What? Ye claim to be hardly worth talkin’ bout, but then ye go around introducin’ yerself as Captain and throwin’ around some oldblood names. Yer an odd one.”
Cravendy Hound: “W-who I stepped on isn’t yer concern. All ye need to know, is that while wounds are things that’ll ‘eal, a man’s pride is ‘arder to put back together. And I may as well ground my victim’s into mincemeat,” Cravs waffles, arms crossed and lips lifted in a pout. She dips her head in thought. “Crew in the Mists? Guess I wouldn’t mind meetin’ them but do they know yer out ‘ere?”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn rebutted with a simple, affirming nod of his chin. "Aye, I'm but a simple Sea Wolf man, no more, no less." He took vast pride in his heritage, that much was certain--yet he also did his best to shy away from her further prodding. Still, he managed to pursue the subject until she would yield no more answers. "Aye, pride is a bloody fickle mistress t' please. I'd know, 'tis me prime vice." A slight smile crowned his lips, as he confirmed her suspicions. "They be used t' me fleein' out an' about unannounced, worry ye not. I make sure t' leave them in proper care an' situated ere I sod off t' train me runic brawlin', 'fter all... An' apparently that entails bumpin' into fledglin' lil' she-Wolves in the wilds. Not e'en the Styrm whispered any o' that, aye."
Cravendy Hound: “What an introduction that’d be...oy, crew. ‘ere’s some random, wanted lady I found in the wilderness while I was out wagin’ war against rocks.” Cravs smirks somewhat, though it’s quickly brought back down into a snarl upon hearing his next few words. “F-fledglin’?! Oh, think yer a smart one, don’t ye? Call me somethin’ like that again and I’ll give ye a new ‘ole right between the eyes, ye oversized snowman."
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn presented both of his palms before himself, raising them in a surrendering fashion near-like. "Now, now, fair's fair... Those mean rocks had it a-comin'. Standin' 'round there, all... Menacingly... An' gray..." He hissed under his breath; the mere thought of rocks sent his blood to near-boil. Or so. Regardless, her reaction elicited a far more amused one from his end. "Somethin' like what, an itty-bitty she-Wolf that be by the fire sitty?"
(Cravendy Hound) the mere thought of rocks sent his blood to near boil.............. (Cravendy Hound) I am living (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Heph. Heph. Heph.
Cravendy Hound hates this. SO MUCH. But as much as she wanted to grab her gun and turn her smug companion into swiss cheese, she had -just- spoke on not wanting to dig herself deeper into holes. And murder over sassy remarks, while something she had done in the past, was no longer acceptable. Think happy thoughts, Cravs. Think. Happy. Thoughts.
Cravendy Hound can’t. She instead gets up and menacingly steps (for the second time today) into Dornn’s space. If there was scruff to grab him by, she would’ve tried to lift him onto his feet and over the fire. However, his size and armor made such a gesture impossible. Frustrated, she simply puts her hand over his hat and pulls it down.
(Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Down as in off or down as in one of those comfy ear-warming caps that you just grab by their dangly things and pull over your eyes-- (Cravendy Hound) the second for sure (Cravendy Hound) bonus if this messes up his hair too xD
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn || The pale giant stood--or sat, rather--oddly calm in his perch, even as she abandoned her own lodge to assault his. Watching her near-boil over, then attempt to pacify her own thoughts, then inevitably fail and fall flat on her proverbial rear seemed of great amusement for the lad. Yet, as the rather fluffy, warm pelt of his head was tugged lower, he squinted momentarily up at her, only to grunt something fierce. Without a second thought, his ivory paws latched onto her wrists, commanding her to stay her movement in an instant. "Grh. Now'en, ye've had yer fun--don't make me make roasted cinnamon rolls from the cinnamon roll o'er this fire, 'ere."
Cravendy Hound winces from his grip, her body still tender from the training that had happened less than an hour prior. But like a wild animal caught in a trap, she didn’t know what to make of the situation. When you can’t bite anymore, the only thing left to do was bark. “Tch. ‘Hope ye like yer rolls with salt instead of sugar.”
Cravendy Hound - As Cravs rages on, tendrils of fire sputter from campfire, pulled thin from its source by an unknown magic. Like swirling threads, they reach towards the small of Crav’s back, eliciting a surprised yelp from her. “Bloody ‘ell! Dornn, I didn’t think ye were serious about roastin’ me, gods! Pull me out afore I melt!”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn knocking his helm back into place with a stern jerk of his noggin, the man's lips, ever-confident, now equally proud, bent upwards in his trademarked, half-smirk. At once, his feet collected beneath him, elevating him to his natural, imposing height. At eight full fulms he stood, towering and proud--but still, he clutched onto her wrists, this time invading -her- personal space--snout to snout, nearly. "Lass... I'm a Sea Wolf. Salt runs in me veins." He appeared wholly entertained by her antics, going as far as to smirk right into her own face. Regardless, the proud brawler only tantalized her by the fire for a spell longer, intent on the innocent torture for just a few more moments.
Cravendy Hound: “When ye finally croak, I ‘ope ye dry into a piece of jerky, saltblood, and get eaten by the gulls,” Cravs tells Dornn off, the fire behind feeling like blazing flowers blooming along her spine. She sweats under the collar and then finally shoves herself free of his grasp. When she turns, the campfire has gone back to normal, and despite the sensation, her armor remains unscorched.
Cravendy Hound brushes herself off. “I don’t know if I should ‘ate ye or like ye. But, by the goddamn twelve, does bein’ around ye wind me up like a pissed off cog. Bah, I’m too sober for this.”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn seemed in higher spirits from the ordeal indeed--as she wrung free of his grasp, he gestured with a free palm before him, while its twin saddled his hip in earnest. "Would ye -really- prefer t' see me in such a state?" He inquired with an innocent smile donned upon his lips, and a puppy-like tilt of his noggin to boot. "Sounds t' me like ye welcome someone bein' straight with ye... Even at the cost of it bein' infuriatin', eh lass?"
Cravendy Hound narrows her eyes at him, and if looks could kill, this one could’ve sent a primal whimpering back home. But despite that, he had hit the nail on the head. A small part of her enjoyed his company. “I’d pay a premium to get front row seats. But unluckily for me, ye seem the type to cling onto life like a bloody determined tick.” She slouches over, wrung out by his sass. In a much smaller voice, she speaks to no one in particular. “Lucky for ye though...and. For me. I guess.”
Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn maintained his good posturing and hearty attitude to the extent of planting his large paw upon her shoulderblade, issuing no small amount of comrot through a tap upon her shoulderblade. "A premium, aye? Ye honour me, lil' she-Wolf. Though ye don't stray far from the truth o' the matter--ain't allowed the Sea t' swallow me up yet, despite its efforts. Yer tongue, while a fierce contender fer it, shan't avail ye either, am 'fraid." Giving off a tender squeeze, he'd mull over her previous sentiment, his own shoulders now rumbling with a baleful storm--that not of thunder, but of bones crackling, as he stretched prim and proper. "Mmh... That be 'nough trainin' fer the moon, methinks. Parched o' throat, are ye? Care t' join me on the road back? Y'seem like ye bear a good tale or two on yer breast."
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4dtk · 4 years
Text
familiar routine (johnny)
it’s quiet when johnny comes home, the lock turning in silence in order to avoid waking you, settling for hushed steps as his feet padded across the dining hall.
the rest of the boys tried their best to keep quiet and they retract at the way he hisses his warning out, not wanting to be on the bad side of your boyfriend.
the others scramble for the bathroom and the tv, but he makes a beeline straight into his room, knowing that you were soundly asleep waiting up for him. it was something you’d say: “i’ll wait up for you, don’t worry,” but always found you asleep once he’d stepped into the familiar room.
johnny wasn’t annoyed or anything by your white lie, and rather found it endearing and cute for you to wait up until you’ve reached your limits. he knows you love him, but he knows that you value your body as well — it makes him fall deeper that someone close to him doesn’t put their health aside.
“hey, baby, i’m back,” he could only whisper into the night, shaking you quietly as the small crack of the door had caused some light to seep into the moonlit room.
hearing johnny’s voice always had you smiling, and that’s what you did, giving him a small smile with eyes closed even when you’ve had a long day of university and undone assignments. the circles he had rubbed on your forearm had you opening your eyes to glance at him sleepily, taking in the way his hair was parted in the middle and how it curled due to the hairspray applied on before that.
“hey. you’re back.”
the sheets rustled under your twisting body as johnny continued to hold your hand, just appreciating the soft moment in the comfort of his room.
“i am.” was all he said as he planted a kiss on your forehead, grabbing his towel that lay on the piano at the corner of the room. he returned a while later, having gotten a place in the showering line after drawing lots with everyone. it wasn’t that long, and he didn’t really wanna shower straight away anyway.
“how was the concert today?” you ask sleepily, forehead on his shoulder as his arm rested on your hip. it was the only comfortable position you could find yourself in, your boyfriend sitting sideways on your bed.
“it went okay, generally, just how it always has — the dream members had come over to watch us after their schedules, though. we went out to eat tonight, that’s why i’m back home so late, sorry.” you could feel him shrug after the last statement, having him rest a hand on your thigh.
you hummed in response, in a way to say that he didn’t need to apologise.
with the soft music drifting from the playlist you made, you sat in silence as you caught some sleep on his shoulder, falling back onto your pillow briefly when it was his turn to shower.
he was quick as always—on his toes and ready to give his all. but it wasn’t his all now; he was tired and drained, and he just wanted to curl up into your arms as he put on a familiar hoodie.
johnny was delighted to just have you dozing off on his side of the bed, entering into the still room fully clothed and fresh from the rinse.
your breaths were even, but he knew you were half asleep in the way you peeked up at him, assuming he couldn’t see you in the dark. he had his glasses on, thankfully. it was a little hard to tell the difference if you were awake though because you were quite active while asleep—thrashing around on the sheets, kicking stuff off the bed, even talking a little when you had dreams.
johnny tried to stay quiet as he removed the fabric covering the keyboard, the brush of the velvet against the floor made you stir a little; and in the dimly-lit room, there was his faint figure taking his seat on the bench, warming up with a few keys before quickly reaching forward to turn down the volume.
“sorry, hun.” johnny said apologetically, hoping you heard as he played the pieces that were on his mind, as well as the usual piano solo he practised for the concert. he let out a tired sigh before his fingers lingered on the starting chords for clair de lune, wondering if he should play it.
the moon seemed to agree, shining bright outside the dorms like a sign.
play the song of the moon, it said. play it for her, since you love her so much.
it’s been so so long, but his fingers still find the keys of its beginning notes, familiarising itself with the melody as it progresses. he remembers playing it at fourteen, when his mother was making beef stew and the moon looked like the one gleaming outside now, stumbling over as he struggled to see the notes on the score. bummer, his bad vision stayed, but he hoped, at least, that his piano skills had improved even a little.
you loved the song. it might be personal, but you heard it once in a museum and fell in love since. and then you fell in love again, with the man currently serenading you to sleep.
despite that, you lugged your body over to his, dragging your sock-covered feet to his back where his fingers travelled across black and white keys to provide you with clair de lune.
you had his arms around his neck, resting your tired head on his and feeling a soft kiss on your forearm. it’s reaching the climax, and you loosen your grip in case you felt like it was restricting him.
“it’s okay,” johnny murmurs when he feels you pull away, using a hand to tug you back into him, “i can’t play that loud anyway.”
he displays his skills when he smoothly transitions into make you feel my love by adele, a song which he weirdly holds close to his heart. johnny hasn’t mentioned the song in interviews and whatnot, but you guessed it was the memory of walking into a room of post-its, along with ten’s hilarious “i wanna have xxxx with you, fatass.” message.
he played the melody while you whisper-sang the words, swaying lightly to the solemn song and the keys that your boyfriend’s playing. you felt like sebastian and mia in their cramped apartment singing city of stars, but you figured you had your own story to craft with johnny suh.
and to end off each chapter, you were glad to say that he’s loved you through every one you’ve written, and you’re prepared for more where you love him a thousand times more.
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Text
Fukuzawa Yukichi: INFJ [BSD]
Ni > Fe > Ti > Se
*Based off Season 1 of the anime [Chapters 1-12] with character-based spoilers from the Wikis. I’ve also read a synopsis of “The Untold Story of the Founding of the Detective Agency,” which gives lots of insight into Fukuzawa and Ranpo in particular, and also I know Yosano’s backstory. The Onsen Drama will also make an appearance occasionally. I feel like I have a good enough grasp on their characters for this and will only add more examples rather than changing types in the future. (At least, I think so.)
I’VE ALSO SEEN HIM TYPED AS: ISTJ, ISTP, ENFJ
Ni is a tricky function. It also doesn’t help that Fukuzawa is very well-balanced. Many people reference the fact that he values tradition and the past to say that his dominant function is Si. Which isn’t necessarily true. Both INFPs and ESTPs can be kind from the outside, but the real difference is in their motives and reasons for behaving that way. I like history. So I must be an ISFJ. (And there are plenty of ISFJs who hate history.) It’s the reasons for liking / doing something that differentiates type. For all we know, he could like tradition because he connects to many of their intuitive values and ideas (Ni) or the visual aspects such as clothing design (Se). I know that applies to me, for sure. We also aren’t aware if Fukuzawa’s respect of tradition extends past Japanese culture as an overall Si value. It’s also worth mentioning that respecting others’ traditions, beliefs, and culture isn’t applied to just Si. Fe keeps tabs on exactly that; other people’s feelings, values, etc. Now that we’ve combed through why he’s not automatically an Si-dom, I’ll get to why I think he’s Ni dominant. He continuously thinks ahead. Si also does this, but not to the extent that Ni does. In ‘The Untold Story,’ we see Fukuzawa’s attention focused on the future in more than one instance. He planned about ways to ditch Ranpo and created the Agency to fight for justice even after their deaths. That’s relatively big-picture thinking to me. The difference between Si-dom Ne-inferior and Ni-dom Se-inferior is this: ISxJs need to learn to accept different was of doing / looking at things while INxJs work to bring their vision and ideas into the concrete world. Fukuzawa seems to fall into the second category. (I also think it’s quite obvious that he’s not Fe dominant.) I’m also trying out this theory that generally someone’s likes and dislikes correspond to whether or not they’re a sensor or intuitive.
LIKES: Cats, beef hot pot, alcohol, equality
DISLIKES: Feudalism
Surprisingly quite equal between sensing and intuition. (Or not so surprising, as he’s balanced.) However, I don’t buy Fukuzawa having a large gap between his Thinking and Feeling functions. So, by default, it must be between Sensing and Intuition. It’s also worth noting that his only dislike is intuitive in nature.
When Atsushi was kidnapped, Fukuzawa needed to ask the world’s greatest detective for help. Ranpo mentions not being interested in a promotion or bonus (likely due to past experience with Te-using bosses), but Fukuzawa offers praise (something his Fe knows that Ranpo loves). Which works. Te would behave in the same way that Kunikida responds (duh). We all know that Kunikida is very moralistic -- but he was also the one to suggest Kyōka be handed over to the authorities. In this case, both Te and Ti would be on the same page, which we see with Ranpo and Kunikida. However, Fukuzawa disagrees. While an IxTJ’s Fi could definitely place value on its members, it would likely see the potential threat of Te reputation tarnishing (like Kunikida did) and still side on letting one member that he wasn’t very connected with go, for the sake of the ADA. Ranpo states to “Consider the reasoning behind it.” Fukuzawa answers with “One of our own is in danger. He needs help. Are you telling me that there can be any better reasoning than that?” A Thinker wouldn’t say that. Though developed ones may place more value on Feeling, they’d fundamentally disagree with that statement.  Tertiary Te has an Fe blind spot that, however developed, they won’t necessarily care much about. They may realize its potential, but won’t be worried about using it. And that doesn’t seem to apply to Fukuzawa, in my opinion. It seems like clear tertiary Ti filtering through auxiliary Fe, which is also the exact same judging axis and positioning as Atsushi and Tanizaki (ISFJs).
Again, Ti often filters through Fe with Fukuzawa, but paired with Ni, can create an illusion of Te. However, he doesn’t use logic in the same way that people like Kunikida do. His Ti can often keep up with Ranpo -- at least, significantly more than other people can (other than maybe Dazai). But that does make sense; an xNFx and an xSTx would understand an xNTx pretty well, but not completely. I previously did consider ISTP, but dominant Thinking doesn’t seem right. Even with somewhat developed Fe, IxTPs will still primarilly use Ti in decision-making. They won’t turn into Feelers. And I really just can’t imagine Fukuzawa with inferiro Fe, even if he is well-balanced.
Naomi went to get Fukuzawa because of his position as the organization’s president, but also because she needed his Se push that she wasn’t able to do. And, as stated with the Ni section, he was able to create the Armed Detective Agency as an outlet for his vision. Fukuzawa is also said to be quite skilled in martial arts. However, this doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a sensor. I mean, I’m an INFJ who took MMA for three years and was pretty decent at it, but all that did was develop my Se more. I’m not a sensor now. And besides, he’s not only had plenty of opportunities but plenty of time to develop his inferior function.
Te Blind Spot: Ti combined with Ni or Fe can often give the illusion of Te. Of course, he definitely has Te skills due to development, but much of the legwork for this function rests on Kunikida.
Ni-Ti Loop: ‘An INFJ in an Ni-Ti loop attempts to suppress their emotional side, shutting themselves off from others and becoming unable to share their feelings with those around them. They will become extremely withdrawn and private, attempting to become analytical and logical without employing their feeling side. They will attempt to view everything in a logical light while shutting off their tendency to consider things in the light of the feelings and values of those around them. In addition, they will repress their feelings.’ source Just head on over to Fukuzawa and Ranpo’s Dynamic.
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talldecafcappuccino · 3 years
Text
Title: Between Close Friends
Rating: General Audience
Chapters: 1/1
Relationship: Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton
Summary: Ted is bad at social media, but is that a bad thing?
Ted, what the fuck are you doing????
Ted peers at his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes and reads the message again.
He scrolls down and sees he has twelve more texts and three missed calls all from Keeley Jones. He turns off his nighttime notifications with a few exceptions for emergency contacts, so it’s not surprising he slept through the messages.
He scratches at the stubble along his cheek and checks his clock. It’s seven o’clock here in Kansas, so it must be . . . early afternoon in London. He thinks through the last day, but he can’t remember anything interesting enough to have Keeley on the case.
Henry came over to his extended-stay hotel, they went to an American football game, got a late dinner in downtown Wichita, and watched a movie before bed.
They did make it on the Jumbotron for the Lasso-off, the team’s half-time dance contest, but his moves weren’t especially embarrassing. At least not in his opinion. Unless one of the moves was actually an insult to the English in which case, oh jeeze, he needs to get on this quick.
The call barely connects before Keeley’s voice echoes in his ear.
“Oy! Ted!”
“Keeley, I am so sorry for whatever I did to offend the great people of the United Kingdom. I am ready to make a statement and an apology tour as soon as you tell me which dance move I need to retire immediately.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I need you to log out of the AFC Richmond Instagram account. Like, now.”
That stops Ted in his tracks.
Does he even have access to that? He remembers a post-it note of accounts and passwords from Beard on their first day with Richmond.
There was an account run by the previous manager, but Keeley had taken it over long ago, converting it to the official team account. She had also made Ted a personal Instagram for his own use and brand development, but he never posted publicly.
He puts her on speaker phone and opens the Instagram app. She’s right. He’s logged into the team account with all 25 million followers. Well, shoot.
There are about a dozen stories posted from last night. All of Ted and Henry’s day together. There’s puns (“having a cow” at dinner with an image of Henry holding up a beef rib and screaming his head off), Ted and Henry singing at a dueling piano bar, the two brushing their teeth together in the bathroom mirror.
“No offense, but I think this may delay the Tom Ford deal you asked me about.”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“It’s just, you know, dads aren’t quite their brand. Or our brand. I mean we’re not anti-dorky dad, but you know with the whole comeback narrative during the season hiatus . . .”
“No I get it. You’ve put a lot of work into rebranding this team and I just undermined that.”
She sighs, but it’s fond.
“Sorry, Ted. It’s not like what you posted was bad, it’s rather sweet actually. It’s just a little different from the posts I had scheduled.”
Ted nodded. It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, but he felt bad for making Keeley’s job harder than it needed to be.
“No, I’m sorry Keeley. I swear, it won’t happen again.”
****
“Can you believe what Ted did last night? I’ve never seen someone so bad at social media.”
Rebecca has no idea what Keeley is talking about when she walks into her office. She flops onto the couch, feet splayed on the coffee table, clearly exhausted by whatever Ted has done from 4,438 miles away.
“So many puns. Which, don't get me wrong, I love word play more than most people. But I don’t think it’s right for the team right now.”
Rebecca shuts her laptop.
“You’re right about puns not being part of the team plan, but what’s this about Ted? What did he do, exactly?”
Ted hasn’t posted anything in at least 24 hours. Not that Rebecca is keeping track.
“Oh he managed to switch to the team account on Instagram and posted about his entire evening out with Henry. It was quite sweet, actually. The ones that made sense,” but then she pulled a face.”He’s like, really, really bad at social media.”
Oof. Well that isn’t great, but Rebecca doesn’t think there’s anything particularly terrible about Ted’s social media use normally.
“But everything seems under control? No big PR actions needed.”
“It’s fine. I had him log out and wrote a post about Coach Lasso’s surprise social media takeover from America.”
Rebecca nods. Okay, so it was all sorted. Keeley has things totally under control.
But she reaches for her phone anyway. She opens Instagram, taps through the AFC Richmond stories, and snorts at the image of Henry with the rib as big as his head.
“Are people at least being kind?” Rebecca hopes Ted logged out without seeing any messages about Henry. Not that she could see any reason for it, but people were shitheads on the internet.
“Well, wanker is still the most common response. But many of them are wanker with a little heart at the end, so I think it’s fine. We actually got a lot of responses, proper engagement and all that,” she looks up at the ceiling, considering it for a moment before rolling her head to look back at Rebecca.
“If we weren’t trying to present the team as a badass phoenix rising from the ashes, I’d say a Ted takeover isn’t a bad idea. He just needs some supervision. Maybe a phone with a better camera.”
Rebecca is only half listening as she taps to the next story.
“Aw, they went to dueling piano night. That must have been fun for Henry.”
She’s smiling at her phone when Keeley asks, “Dueling piano night?”
“Yeah, you know at Jim Bob’s Bar.”
Keeley is looking at her blankly.
“Fine. I know it’s not really Jim Bob’s bar. It’s probably not even a bar if Henry’s there. But I can’t remember the real name off the top of my head.”
She’d looked it up once, after Ted first posted about the dueling pianos. For some reason she started calling it Jim Bob’s. Ted didn’t seem bothered and had even started calling it that himself.
When she looks up again, Keeley is staring at her, eyes narrowed.
“What are you talking about?”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you know so much about some bar in Kansas?”
That gives Rebecca pause. She isn’t sure what Keeley means by the line of questioning.
“It’s not some totally random bar. Ted posts about it whenever he goes for dueling pianos.”
If he gets to the bar early or she has a particularly late evening, Rebecca catches the story before going to bed. When she does, she always asks him to put in $5 for Wannabee by the Spice Girls. She owes him a small fortune by now, but it’s worth it to see the bar explode with cheers and jeers.
Some nights she misses the story, but he puts money in anyways and she wakes up to a shaky video of, Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.
Rebecca thinks this is a good enough explanation, but Keeley is still staring at her.
“I’ve literally no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Keeley, you know social media is not my thing. All I know is that sometimes Ted posts about this bar on his tiny friends list thing,” she waves her hand around, trying her best to describe it. “The one with the green ring around it.”
Keeley leaps to her feet, eyes wide.
“Am I not on Ted’s Close Friends list??”
Before Rebecca can say a word, Keeley is halfway out the door, texting furiously.
“Roy, better not be on there, if I’m not on there. Ted knows how I feel about being left out!” she shouts over her shoulder. “Sorry Rebecca, I need to do some investigating, asap.”
Oof. She may have just created a problem. It’s probably best to give Ted a heads up before Keeley gets through interrogating Roy.
She drafts a text once, twice, then deletes it and presses call instead.
“Hey Boss, let me guess. Keeley got a hold of you?”
It’s been a while since they’ve chatted, what with the time difference. It’s bizarre how familiar his American accent has become.
“She just left my office, yes.”
There’s a loud crack in the background and a metal clang.
“Where are you?”
“Oh, just the batting cages with Henry,” he says, cheering loudly. “Hey, do you guys have a sport called baseball that has nothing to do with American baseball? You know, like football and football?”
She chuckles, “I don’t believe we do. However there is always cricket.”
He hums, considering it.
“Now Ted, I think there’s something you should know.”
“Lay it on me Boss. I know I caused a headache this morning, what’s the damage? What do you need me to do? I am at your disposal or I’ll lay really, really low as long as you need me to.”
“It’s not that Ted. It’s Keeley.”
“Keeley?”
“Yes, she’s on a bit of a mission at the moment. It seems you left her off your Close Friends list? I think that’s right. On Instagram?”
“Huh. How did that come up?”
“I was telling her about Jim Bob’s. Apparently she had never heard of it and realized you had a whole social media life she was unaware of.”
“Right . . .”
“So do what you will with that.”
“You haven’t talked to anyone else about this yet, have you?”
Rebecca is confused by this new direction.
“No. Why? Ted, is something wrong?”
It takes a long moment for Ted to respond.
“What can I say, I’m just really bad at this social media stuff.”
It's a non-response and an overly folksy one at that. But Rebecca can’t be fooled by the aw shucks routine—not anymore. She tries again.
“Ted. Who is on your close friends list?”
“Uh. Not a lot of people.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“What can I say?” He huffs, a little frustrated. She would feel bad for prying, but she can't help herself. “The list of people I want to share silly life things with is small.”
“How small?” she wonders.
“Very small.”
The line goes silent and Rebecca swears she lost him. But then she hears him take a deep breath.
“It’s you. You’re the list.”
Rebecca feels flush. That’s not where she was expecting this conversation to go.
“I know that might be a lot. You don’t have to say anything. I just, that’s the honest truth and I’d like to get ahead of it before Keeley harangues the entire team.”
It’s a lot to take in, but it makes sense. Sometimes when she’s watching his posts, she wonders about his audience. Who else cares about his biscuit recipe improvements or Broadway Sundays (a recent development that’s turned into a shared movie night.)
“Rebecca?”
She realizes she’s been quiet for a while. The moment feels tenuous and she worries about saying the wrong thing, sending him running faster than Keeley during a social media snafu.
Finally she settles on, “You know, you’re welcome to text me silly life things. It wouldn’t be a bother.”
She brushes invisible crumbs from her desk, listening carefully to his breathing on the other end of the line.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Maybe I can send some, too?”
Rebecca can hear his smile from across the Atlantic.
“Well, alright then.”
****
That night, Ted’s phone pings and he rolls over to see a text message from Rebecca. It’s a picture of the sun rising over her garden wall.
Something silly to start the day.
But it doesn’t feel silly. Not at all.
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masjestickingdom · 4 years
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Parallel Lives
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Pairing: NCT x reader
Genre: Lighthearted, slight fluff, one shot 
Summary: You’re a studious university who’s on summer break, spending your spare moments with your best friend. After a random statement is thrown into the conversation, you and your friend wonder what it’s like to be in NCT’s position. Little do you know that your idols are simultaneously pondering about your position as a normal college student.
Note: Here’s a simple, sweet scenario that I wrote! Even though it’s simple, I really wanted to post this because it’s a nice, exciting thought to have a crossover conversation... Imagine if you were thinking about the same thing at the same time of your favorite idol! Anyway, I also thought it was important to post this to point towards the life experiences everyone has. While this story doesn’t cover every one of those experiences, I think it covers the bigger topics (youth, hate, missing out on experiences, dreams, etc) that I personally think about a lot, so I hope you enjoy! 
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   As a university student, you have worked your butt off to get good grades and make connections with your professors, upperclassmen, and peers. When you were a high school student, you didn’t care about any of that. In fact, you were the shy one and you got away with it because, hey, it was high school. Fast forward a few years ahead and here you are in the present day, socializing with every human being you could possibly get in touch with. What for, though?
   “For what are we grinding this hard?” you wonder out loud, grabbing your nth piece of chicken.
   Your friend sighs in agreement, spreads out her long legs over the table you both paid for, and rests them adjacent to the boxes of chicken and coke you ordered over half an hour ago.
   Exams are finally over, and you decide to spend the night on the balcony with your roommate, who’s also your best friend, before your two-month internship, which you earned in part to your networking skills. It’s a nice, breezy summer night. It’s one of those nights you want to enjoy in peace and quiet, staring off into the limitless expanse of the dark, but shimmery sky.
   You reach out for another piece of chicken when your friend chuckles at something on her phone.
   “What?” you ask with your mouth nearly full.
   “Nothing, it’s just this really funny meme about NCT,” your friend says with glee. “Very relatable, by the way.”
   NCT, one of the hottest international sensations taking the world by storm alongside living legends, BTS and BlackPink, according to news outlets, is a name you haven’t heard in a while. Personally, you used to be an avid fan since the SMRookies days. You kept up with the appearances they made as trainees in EXO’s EXO 90:2014 series, the cameos in music videos (including the ones in EXO 90:2014), the variety show Mickey Mouse Club, and the videos SM Entertainment would randomly post. As time went on, sadly, the determination to be informed of the latest news withered as your priorities changed upon entering your sophomore year of high school. Sure, you heard news here and there and occasionally checked out their social media accounts, but when you entered college, that was a territory you failed to explore. Other than awards and comebacks, you hadn’t heard much of NCT once you had indulged yourself in your studies, and everyone else around you were doing the same thing.
   It has been quite some time since you were curious about the idols. Your friend’s sudden comment on them resurfaced old fangirl feelings, luring you into an interesting discussion of NCT, idols, and life in general.
   “Another exam to go until graduation, another test to assess loyalty, another test closer to our deathbeds,” you mumble grumpily.
   At the abrupt foul tone that consumed your voice, your friend raised her eyebrows questioningly.
   “And an internship to be a prospect of a permanent employee for some company to work for others--exciting, right?” you said sarcastically before you took a long sip of ice-cold, refreshing coke, which did nothing to restore your mood.
   Understanding what you were getting at, your best friend calmly nodded.
   “They’re living their best lives,” she says, referring to NCT.
   You let a bitter smile form on your lips as memories about mistreatment and mismanagement whiz past your mind. “Or behind the curtains..."
   “They could be just like us,” your friend finishes off. “Tired, overworked, maybe even frustrated.”
   A soft smile overtakes your bitter one. “But probably in a different way.”
   “What would it be like to be an idol?” your friend sighs dreamingly.
   “What would it be like to be a college student?” a silver haired boy ponders aloud.
   His purple haired younger friend, Haechan, who’s grilling meat, replies ambiguously, “Stressful, Yuta. Pretty stressful.”
   “Probably fun too,” green haired Jaehyun chimes in. “Engaging with lots of people the first few weeks of school, trying out different clubs, and finding a way to fit in--that all sounds fun to me.”
   The optimistic boy joins Haechan in the adventure of grilling meat, switching with Taeyong’s position as a meat griller. While the rest of the boys prepare the dining table, placing the setting with kitchen utensils and side dishes being prepared by Taeyong, Doyoung, and Johnny, Yuta admires the busy streets of the city, listening for the distant sounds of cars honking and pedestrians screaming, with the cool night air breezing past his newly dyed hair. It certainly is one of the best ways he and the members could possibly enjoy the rare moments of freedom.
   At the sound of a whistle, Yuta is pulled from his cloud of thoughts, and he looks over his shoulder, nodding to his not-so-secret favorite member of the group at the simple gesture of a hand that urged him to go inside and help bring out the dishes.
   “We’ll never experience the glamor of getting dolled up almost everyday,” you state solemnly.
   “Or have fans,” your friend pitches in.
   “Or see famous celebrities literally every day.”
   “Or experience the trainee days, everyone trying to bring everyone down, or haters trying to drag you out once you gain fame.”
   You throw a strange glance at your friend for that last statement.
   “What?” she says, shrugging nonchalantly. “We need drama in our lives, or else life’s boring.”
   Shaking your head, you chuckle at her unique take on an abstract concept.
   A moment of silence engulfs the two of you as both of you fall deep in your thoughts.
   There was never a quiet moment under the roof of NCT, and tonight is no exception.
   “Hey, isn’t the beef really good?” Yuta’s favorite member, Mark, speaks, delighted at the flavors bursting in his mouth.
   “Haechan, don’t you dare pull a prank on us with coke and vinegar ever again,” Taeyong scolds the youngest member, recovering from his gagging session, while Johnny and Taeil are still chugging down glasses of water to get rid of the aftertaste. “Is it really necessary to do any of this?”
   “Sorry, mom, my hand itched,” the prankster smiles innocently.
   “Didn’t Haechan grow a lot?” you bring up, breaking the quietness.
   Your friend gulps down her coke before pointing out, “Isn’t he the same age as us?”
   Your crane your neck, your head now tilting sideways. “He is?”
   “Crazy, isn’t it?” your friend responds. “The majority of the Dreamies are the same age as us.”
   “Yuta, didn’t you say something about college?” Mark asks, chowing down pieces of watermelon.
   The older boy nods. “Wouldn’t it be fun to experience it? None of us went to college.”
   Taeyong uncomfortably shifts on the bench at the mention of college. 
    Like Yuta mentioned, none of the members of NCT went to college and probably won’t go because it’s not a likely option, considering their packed schedules. He knows that the mere mention of it can bring down the mood because for them, college represents the definition of normalcy, the life of a normal person, and with them not going to college or graduating high school, he doesn’t want them to have a chance to regret or have second thoughts.
   “Imagine if they visited our college for one day,” your friend mused.
   Extending your short arm to pour yourself another cup of coke, you wheeze between your breaths, “Hey, I bet that the professors would ask for autographs.”
   “Yeah, I think we wouldn’t stand a chance in the classes,” Johnny laughs, adding ice to his coke. “They would be too advanced for us to understand anything.”
   Yes, Taeyong let the conversation flow. He even joined in on the conversation a few times. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by switching the topic in a way that could be nothing short of a very obvious attempt, and if he didn’t say something, his group members, his family, would notice.
  “It would be nice to make new friends, right?” Yuta expresses. “New people to dance with, sing with, do sports with..."
   “I think Yuta’s tired of our awful soccer skills,” Jaehyun replies humorously.
   “I feel like they would say that they would want to make new friends, but it all depends on your personality,” you say, tucking your hands behind your head. “I only have you.”
   Your friend laughs, replicating your movements. “Loser, I’m on the same boat as you.”
   “Wouldn’t it be nice to go to game rooms or comic book stores?” Mark carries on as he stretches his arms out to the sky.
   “Wouldn’t it be nice to be your own karaoke room or be able to dance the trends?” you fancy.
   “Or be the trend,” your friend adds.
   “I just want to sleep,” Johnny murmurs, lazily dragging his feet across the floor to the cushioned bench placed against the white walls. Turning his large body so that his body faces the wall, he hugs an available pillow with his legs and remarks, “Idol or student, you don’t get to sleep that much.”
   “It would be nice to work hard for something that you know you want to do,” you dream. “We have no clue what to do in the future. Most of us blindly study and get internships.”
   Just then, a bright stream of light passes your eyes, and your eyes widen.
   “Did you see that? That was a shooting star!” Jungwoo exclaims, his eyes mirroring the sparkling trail.
   Everyone looks up at the sky even though the moment has well passed.
   “We’re living under the same sky as them, so how are our worlds so different?” you say without much energy, staring at the now dark sky. “I bet they were pitted against each other at some point in their trainee lives, but here they are in this world. Years of friendship, what would that be like?”
   Slightly offended, your friend sits up from her resting position. “Hey, we’ve been friends since middle school.”
   “Do you remember the time when you were young and saw your favorite artists on tv?” Doyoung reminisces.
   “They’re the reasons why I became one,” Haechan concurs.
   Taeyong thoughtfully fixates his eyes on where the shooting star once was, his arms acting accordingly.
   “They were so young when they were casted,” you whisper. “It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”
   Another wave of silence overwhelms you. Your friend spares another look at you and watches you stretch your hands to the sky, hands shaped as if you are taking a snapshot of your view.
   She responds with a quiet voice of her own, “Some of them didn’t even plan on being an idol.”
   Taeyong’s hands retract to his sides. “I remember when I first met you guys. I’m really glad that we have each other.”
   The sappy moment comes to an abrupt end when Johnny’s snores take over.
   You turn your head over to your friend who is fast asleep.
   Eyes averting to the inky sky once again, you contemplate quietly, “I wonder what they’re doing now.”
   Meanwhile, the boys are trying to stuff a sock in Johnny’s mouth to muffle his snores. Taeyong, not participating, stays in the background and enjoys the last bit of their night of freedom.
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